A Call to Curiosity

I was all geared up to write a reflection in response to seeing this striking picture*:

But I decided that it might be interesting to leave responses open for sharing. I'd like to know your initial reactions/thoughts on this picture and I'll share mine, too. You don't have to write a dissertation or anything (though dissertations are welcome). Leave a sentence or two, or maybe even a couple of words. Leave a verse or a poem if you want. I would love to know your thoughts.

My blog serves many self-indulgent purposes, but it is also a safe place for reflection that, when shared, leads to further understanding. :)

*photographer is Mark B, the subject being, "from church whose name I forget at Little Venice, Regency Canal, London."

It never fails..

Notes on Traveling
Lesson 4: Always Be Prepared
For further enlightenment see the following:
Lesson 1; Lesson 2; Lesson 3

Our ship lightly rocked into the Skagway harbor on the Fourth of July, and after a leisurely morning at the bacon trough, Rich and I stepped off of the boat and starting walking into town, excursion coupons in hand.

To our happy surprise, Skagway is still a genuine small town, full of small town pride and personality. It hasn't lost that quality, even though they cater to thousands of (surprisingly international) cruisers each day.

The town was bustling that day, and the streets were adorned with everything red, white, and blue. As we slowly waddled into town, Rich and I saw that there was a parade happening. This is not unusual for a small town on the Fourth of July (or on pumpkin harvesting day, or homecoming, etc.), but what was unusual was the number of bystanders waiting to get a glimpse of Bev and her can cans, the local fire department who were riding atop the decorated engine squirting water at the crowd, and the local kids who ran behind the truck squirting back with their Super Soakers. People cheered for the chamber of commerce float and for the glittery confetti that seemed to follow it. The obligatory classic cars decorated with beauty queens practiced in the art of waving meandered down the parade route, and locals in all sorts of costumes - from clown wigs to mounty garb, from red lipped brothel women to dachshunds wearing hot dog costumes - marched by surrounded by balloons and crepe paper, and all threw candy and kisses to the enthusiastic crowd.

Seriously, this was a sight that originated in some Leave it to Beaver montage or maybe from The Little Rascals. If I weren't busy clapping for confetti, streamers, and the jolly ranchers that were beaming people next to me (who, by the way, I only remember as large smiles, mostly Q-tip ones*), I might have imagined that I was caught in some sort of prosaic acid trip. But who can be cynical when dogs wearing top hats are parading by you?

After the parade, the town erected food stands (hot dogs, BBQ, and Crackerjacks all accounted for) and game booths up and down Main Street. We witnessed the potato sack races, three-legged races, and egg toss. Shop keepers ran out of their shops to participate, and no one minded - not even the international tourists - because the day was filled with that much glee.

After buying a Skagway volunteer Fire Department t-shirt (all proceeds going to support them) and a hot dog from the Bank of America booth (all proceeds supporting underprivileged children), Rich and I decided to go in search of the local brewery (all proceeds supporting the... uh.. local brewery). And after sampling all of the Alaskan brews (and receiving my free baseball hat for doing so), we decided to go in search of fudge and our free "genuine fake Alaskan bear claw".

Just as I was thinking that perhaps I shouldn't have eaten the extremely creamy and wonderful handmade Alaskan fudge after the beer samples, hot dogs, Crackerjacks, and bacon trough, and as Rich was still inquiring about the "genuine fake Alaskan bear claw", I heard - very faintly and surreally - these two words in the distance:

"Ms. Haag?"

My heart stopped.
Surely not. No really. Seriously? Here? Don't look up.

And then came,
"Ms Haag!!! It is you! I can't believe it! What are you doing here?"

I looked up, and sort of tried to smile, though anyone who knows me knows that when I try to fake an emotion, it looks really scary. Some might even use the word "psychotic" here, as my eyes sort of bulge out of my head and my eyebrows lift into some sort of creepy clown mask that leaves a very unflattering impression.

That look coupled with my gaping jaw must have made her fling herself at me - so that she wouldn't have to look at me anymore - for a hug. It was happening. I had traveled thousands of miles away, secure in my anonymity on a ship of thousands of people!

As a teacher, going anywhere public means that you will inevitably run into a student who doesn't understand that you are a real person outside of the schoolhouse. It means that in any given moment, you have to put on your school manners and stop saying, "fuck" every two seconds.

It means that you probably should not be wearing your newly acquired Skagway Alakan Brewery baseball cap, chocolate fudge smeared all over your mouth.

It means that under normal circumstances, you have carefully mapped out the local eating establishments and understand that if you go to that one, you might run into so and so, since she's worked there for three months - and you know this because you've read her reflective paper on how much she hates her job and that the boy she loves made it with her in the restroom there while on a break.

You know that if you travel across town to that establishment, there is less chance of being recognized, but that if you are, you have the following questions available on notecards for dialogue prompting: "So, how have you been this summer? Now, what college/trade school/ job will you being attending? How are your folks, brother/dog/ boyfriend/children?".

So, out of context, I am lost. I was completely unprepared when I saw this student in Skagway. I hugged her back, and awkwardly tried to chit chat with her in one of those conversations that you know is floundering with such verbal clumsiness that you and all of the animals within a mile radius are on edge, alert and awaiting some sort of predator warning. I excused myself from the conversation under the guise of caring about a "genuine fake Alaskan bear claw", and walked away a deer in headlights.

The rest of the day I looked for her. Just in case. I promised myself I would do better next time if I ran into her again because I didn't want her to feel like my blundering was a result of something she did, especially since my students and I have such a bond in the classroom. And I remember her fondly.

Unfortunately? Fortunately? I didn't see her again that day, and she wasn't on my ship. I spent a lot of time feeling bad about the awkwardness of our encounter, but at the same time, what the hell?!

Seriously.

* A Q-tip, in this case, is a person of a certain age, usually whose hair has turned white and who wears white orthopedic shoes. Q-tips are known to travel together to Alaska, especially on cruise ships.

A mill-yin doller night

Our very generous friend, Kim, gave us tickets to the Texas Rangers v. Seattle Mariners baseball game last night. We had excellent seats, plus it was $1 hot dog night! This game was the third in a three game series, and the Rangers won! Yay!



As always, I was on strict people watch duty since I think people are extremely amusing, but this time I didn't need my eyes to be amused. We sat in front of a row of little boys who cracked.me.up. They had to be from Podunk, West Texas because every single sentence that they yelled (volume control is for sissies) had a drawl that lasted longer than each inning. Conversations about the game played out something like this:

Boy 1: Hey. Hey. Haaay! Ah betchew a mill-yin dollers he stee-yuls a bayse. A mill-yin dollers! Hey! a mill-yin dollers!

[He steals a base]

Ah told yew! Yew owe me a mill-yin dollers!

Boy 2: We didn't shayk on it!

Boy 1: Fine. Ah betchew three dollers...

Boy 3: Hey! Haaaaay! He pitches like a gur-yul! A stinkin' gur-yul could throw better'n'at!

Boy 4: Yer cray-zy! That'uz the beyest play tonite! Ah garunteeit!

I actually have a video on which you can hear the boys, but it's in need of some serious editing, unless you would like to watch the longest inning of the game..
Trust me. They were hysterical.

No way! Is it really today?

So, I'm an idiot. (No comment necessary.)

Today Rich and I have been married for 9 years!!

But that's not the only reason why I'm an idiot. (grin)

The main reason that I am an idiot today is that I forgot that it is our anniversary. Actually, we both forgot. I guess we're just not into time... Whatever. We celebrate our love just about everyday, sometimes twice, even. ;D

Happy anniversary, Baby.

I love you.

Where have all my politics gone?

This summer I've sort of dropped the ball on my ranting and discussing of things that matter to me politically. In short,

I haven't been paying attention.

I haven't been watching any national or international news. I haven't read a newspaper, other than the day that Gordon Brown took power in the UK. Oh, and I glanced at the headlines in the New York Times because the paper appeared at my doorstep each morning, and I might have tripped over it in my haste to get to (ironically) my international conference at the United Nations International School.

I skip the headline news on my homepage and have neglected the 'Help Humanity' section on my blog. Sorry to the PiCs. I've only briefly glanced at those mails. I have even managed to bypass the "Talk Of The Town" section in the New Yorker Magazine which tends to be political rants and have jumped straight to the David Sedaris (fiction) section and cartoons.

Ani DiFranco is losing her mojo on me, except for the fact that I feed off of her empowering female angst and intense sexuality. But that's a different post, and this has turned into quite the confession..

The ridiculous paradox of this is that when one is secure and unbothered (fat and happy at the bacon trough), she doesn't HAVE to worry about the state of things around her. It's when things start going to shit that she is forced to pay attention.

I need to kick my own ass for being that complacent girl, especially since I still believe in the "no man is an island" philosophy (we - all of humanity - are in it together, regardless of age, color, socio-economic status, or creed; 'and the greatest of these is love..' and love should be foremost in our minds when making decisions.) So even though things are OK for me right now, they aren't for others, and therefore I should pay attention.

The world is changing. Quickly. New leaders are being/have been elected in many different nations, including in our own. Policies are being redefined. Even the words we use (democrat, republican, libertarian, green, left, right, ) are taking on new meanings.

Perhaps this is the BEST time for voices to be heard.

But paying attention is hard. It means reading several sources, watching news, digesting information, and forming my own opinion according to what I've learned and in consideration of the whole. It's work. And it's work that might lead to debate, and disagreement which is difficult for folks like me who would rather jump off a roof than willfully participate in conflict.

Fortunately for me, I have really smart people in my life who turn to me with genuine motives (they really do want to know my opinion, as opposed to setting me up to hear theirs) and say things like, "What do you think will happen in the primaries?" or "Did you know that Cindy Sheehan is running for Nancy Pelosi's spot in the House, possibly as an independent?" or "Did you see the email that is being distributed that makes Americans seem outrageously blind and ignorant? I'm outraged!"

But I think it's well worth my time, especially since it's what I teach my students. We all should avoid giving in to the "electric sheep" in the "card castle comfort of America."

INCUBUS LYRICS

Talk Show On Mute
'Take a bow
Pack on powder
Wash 'em out with buzzing lights
Pay an audience to care
"Impress me" personality

Still and transfixed
The electric sheep are dreaming of your face
Enjoy you from the chemical
Comfort of America

Come one, come all
Into 1984
Yeah, three, two, one
Lights, camera, transaction

Quick, your time is almost up
Make all forget that they're the moth
Edging in towards the flame
Burn into obscurity

Still and transfixed
The electric sheep are dreaming up your face
And judge you from the card castle
Comfort of America

Come one, come all
Into 1984

Yeah, three, two, one
Lights, camera, transaction..

Your foundation is canyoning
Fault lines should be worn with pride
I hate to say so much more
You're so much more
Endearing with the sound turned off

Hey, she has a new music thingy!

I'm trying a new Music of the Mo site from Project Playlist, as you can see as it is posted in the margins of my blog. I'm not sure if I like it or not, yet, and I guess it's really up to you guys. I don't want it to be annoying, especially if you have different music taste than me. (In that case, please feel free to hit the pause button on the actual player.)

I have very eclectic taste in music and some of the songs are louder than others. You're welcome to skip around and see what I've got goin' on. Also, I didn't have time to preview all of my selections, so some of the songs might be samples. I am still adding music, so keep posted.

Let me know if you HATE having the music pop up automatically (especially since some of the songs buffer for forever! If that happens hit pause or skip to the next song), or if you like the button list better. OR let me know if you dig it.
:)

On Church

I'm not sure I'm in the right time space at the moment to share this experience with you. I don't want it to sound too melodramatic or churchy so I am writing in the morning when I am at my most logical. It's just too oppressively hot to write in the afternoon for me, and my entries end up developing a major crankitude as a result. Nighttime generally gives way to sentimentality and clouded judgement for me (esp after a glass or two of Woodbridge), and this topic needs to be genuine in content. So, morning it is.

Notes on Traveling
Lesson # 3: Do Something Non touristy
You can find Lesson #1 here and Lesson #2 here.

It seems like forever ago that I decided to ask my school if I could go to England for the International Baccalaureate conference, but I'm pretty sure it was during the fall, close to winter break. The second I saw the Oxford conference on the IB website, I remember having one of those feelings - like I knew it was supposed to happen. But in the reality of the day, the idea of the school actually sending me all the way to England for training, especially since there were other conferences closer to home, was ridiculous. I actually had to get up the the courage to ask my IB coordinator if it was even a possibility, which means that I dreamed about it, had millions of conversations with Christine about it, and changed my mind a billion times. I remember asking on a day when I felt a little bit untouchable for some reason which means I had either had a really good day (rare last year) or an "I really don't give a shit" kind of day (more probable). I needed an adventure, after all, and I had been trying to get out of town for some sort of Jack Kerouac experience (with fewer drugs and less anonymous sex).

This is all a really long introduction to say that, to my astonishment, the IB gods smiled on me that day, and the verdict was yes. Go to Oxford, Ginger! My response was, "Really?!" followed by an internal, "Oh hell no! What did I just sign-up for? I can't fly by myself! I'll have to actually talk to people, and maneuver my way around England!? The Underground ticket people are scary, and what am I going to eat? I've only been to England 8 or 9 times! I'll have to make friends! How in the hell am I going to do this? Shit!" followed by, "This is exactly what you need. Get a grip. It's England. You love England. You are an empowered woman - read your 'cunt-lovin' womanifesto! Plus, you're not a complete stranger. You know people there.."

That's when I decided to write to Mark and let him know that I might be in his town, hoping that he would have dinner one night with me so that I would at least see a familiar face. He immediately offered me hospitality and invited me to stay a few days before/or after my conference.*

To make a long story short(er), I took him up on the offer and spent a few days in London (Southgate - sort of the burbs of London, in a very different burbs kind of way) before I headed to Oxford for my conference.

During this time, I was privileged enough to see the goings on in Southgate and to meet several of Mark's brilliant friends! They were all so receiving and kind! I felt immediately at home with them, a sure sign of good-hearted folks.

On my last day in Southgate, Mark and I opted to go to church, possibly an odd thing to do when one is in London for a short time. and definitely a non-touristy thing to do since it wasn't a service at Westminster or something like that. Mark apparently adores the Quaker church in Southgate called Winchmore Hill. I was curious about it, thanks to his description. I had never been to a Quaker church before and for some reason I was really drawn to the idea. I honestly had no idea what to expect, other than what I had read on Mark's blog and what he mentioned to me in some of our wonderfully eclectic (frantically ADD) conversations.

So we went.

The service was different than any I had ever attended (and I have attended several denominations of Christian churches here (Baptist, Methodist, Church of Christ, Lutheran, Catholic etc.) and have even been to a Mosque for prayer time and to a Krishna church) in that it was a service of meditation. You sit in meditation for 30 to 45 minutes and if you feel led to speak, you simply stand and say what you are moved to say, the idea being that the participants are unified in the spirit, and each person's words further your experience. There is no structure or sermon. There is no music. It is all about contemplation and "silent waiting."

Anyone who knows me knows that within my anxiety ridden bones, "silent waiting" would sound almost tortuous for me. I am, after all, a tad OCD and ADD and I have to get things done according to my list. But that day (the whole day, even before the service) I had been still. I was completely calm and could breathe mindfully.

And we waited, silently, in that wood paneled room.

The first thing I thought was, "OK. Here you have me. I'm still. Oh shit. You have me, still." And I was confronted about my angry bitterness and my overwhelming need to not rely on anyone or anything, especially something as abstract as God, or a husband, or friends. And I did some confronting about Dot Wonderful, too. Especially about my Dot. And as I was beginning to shake within all of these confrontations, someone stood up to speak.

She mentioned the laughter of children who were playing outside near the church and the beauty in the simplicity of that.

(tears - and I felt embarrassed to have them in front of my friend, Mark, and the strangers in the room)

And then someone else stood up and read from a Quaker book of advices and queries. She read #21: Do you cherish your friendships, so that they grow in depth and understanding and mutual respect? In close relationships we may risk pain as well as finding joy. When experiencing great happiness or great hurt we may be more open to the working of the Spirit.

(more tears - and I reached out my pinkie finger to Mark for him to hold with his pinkie finger - like Amy and I used to do when we were kids at First Baptist El Paso, and like I continued to do with Lisa and Jen during any time when we needed each other, and like I do with Rich when I want to remember that friendship first connection with him)

And there was catharsis in that moment. And I felt warm, like I was standing in sunlight on an almost cold day. I felt that for the rest of the day - when I was having tea with the congregation, avoiding pictures on the Winchmore Hill grounds, having lunch at the art gallery.. Even when I had to say a quick good-bye at the train station and was sad to go so soon.

And I carried that warmth with me to Oxford, where I had one of the best camp-like experiences of my life and met more dear, dear people.

Because of the cathartic peace and stillness of that particular morning, some of my anxiety was calmed and my mind released its tensions for the rest of my time in England.

*I have to express my gratitude to Mark for allowing me to stay at his place in London. Not only was it helpful to me in that it made my first lone excursion across the pond familial and less overwhelming, but it also made London "real" to me, as opposed to it being the dream-like, Shakespearean wonderland that is portrayed when one stays only in touristy parts of town. Plus, Mark is way fun! So, thank you Mark and Ilham for allowing me, without any hint of my being an inconvenience, to be "one more thing" on your overbooked agendas. Thank you for your generosity and complete kindness. Oh - and for showing me around your neck of the woods. Hi to the glorious green peas and kind people at Mr. Bagels!

2 things on my mind right now:

1. Diurnal is a disgusting word to me.

2. Do you ever think about your "crazy" cat lady neighbors and laugh at the stereotype of them? Then you realize that they were once 31, and they probably were productively creative at one point until they completely lost touch with the world. And then you look in the mirror and think to yourself in the horror of that futile recognition, "Oh Shit! Diurnal is a disgusting word to me!"

Happy Birthday!!

Welcome to the community Baby Allison!!!

And congrats to you Pat, Amanda, and Big Sister Ella!!

Wild Geese

You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting--
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.

by Mary Oliver

Glacier View. Bike and Brew. How'd you do?

I'm still not sure if my brain is ready to tell this story, but I think I'll HAVE to give it a try seeing as a very dear friend of mine recently informed me that I am his #2 favorite blogger. #1 updates more than me, so BAM. I lose. Sucks to my assmar. Just. like. that. So if this is long winded and heinous, send your hate mail to Buffalo.. (grin)

Notes on Traveling

Lesson #2 - Rain Gear Is NOT Embarrassing!

(a review of lesson#1 can be found here)

So before I left for England, the first of my summer tour trifecta, it was raining beaucoups* here in the Metroplex. It was STILL raining when I returned home 10 days later. It was raining so much that they posted those (seemingly obvious) highway signs that read "Turn around. Don't drown!" for those morons who 'take the chance' in their itsy bitsy Ford Pintos and Chevy Vegas and cross the white water rapids that happen to be newly raging (inconveniently) through an intersection, blocking the most DIRECT route to their IHOPian destinations.**

Anyway.

It was raining.

I knew Alaska would be cold and wet, too, so in between trips I went looking for rain gear. Even in the middle of a metroplex monsoon, rain gear is surprisingly hard to find, so my mom was generous enough to buy a raincoat for me in Lubbock(!)and brought it to me in Alaska. My amazing Aunt Gagi also brought rain ponchos for all of us, so you'd think I'd be covered.. Right? Literally. Covered - by a rain poncho, a rain coat, and a stylish brolly that I bought at Covent Garden in England where it also rained every day.

Too bad I forgot to bring any of this rain gear on my bike and brew experience in Juneau, Alaska..

The brochure for this excursion said that participants would take a "leisurely and scenic" bicycle tour to a gorgeous glacier where we would stop for a little ho cho (hot chocolate) and a picture op, and then head on to the brew part - a tour of an Alaskan brewery and free samples for everyone.

"Yes!" I thought to myself upon reading said brochure. "I've been cycling for a few months now, and am sort of in shape." AND "I like beer! Odd combo, but good for pictures.. OK, let's give it a go!"

We signed up.

First of all, the word "leisurely" means something VERY different in the lower 48. Apparently leisurely in Alaska means up-hill, across major intersections, at a fast pace, in the rain. I did not understand this initially. Oh and I can't forget to mention the bears. "There may be bears near and around you at all times. If you see one, ride faster than the guy next to you, and you'll be fine." (a small panic.)

But I digress (again).

While we were being fitted for helmets and bikes (-my assigned bike was different from the others and required special breaking instructions... holy shit..) the tour leaders offered us some rain gear. I thought, "Nah. It's not really raining. It's just a little drizzle. I'm not afraid of a little rain. Plus look at how silly Rich (who had opted yes for rain gear) looks in his "high water, a size too small" rain pants that don't completely cover his jeans.


There are attractive men around.


I'm not going to wear THOSE in front of them. I'm fine. Well, OK, I'll take the rain jacket, but I REFUSE to wear those goofy looking pants."

Having that particular thought process was a mistake that immediately came back to kick my ass. Literally.

Here's the picture proof:

My "special" bike with the "special" breaks did NOT have a "special" splash guard like the others, and as one may or may not understand (because she grew up in the desert), when it rains puddles form. If one rides a bicycle through said puddles without a splash guard on her bike, the mud and water spin onto one's back and back side - which is precisely what happened to me!

We had not even stopped for the ho cho OR brew part of the trip and already my ass was completely wet; my jeans were stuck to my knees because when jeans get wet, that's what they do, which, it turns out, makes pedaling very difficult. On top of that, I was way out of breath and was actually making excuses about not being used to the high Alaskan altitude - though I've since learned being at high altitude has nothing to do with being north on a map. Alaska happens to be right at sea level..


Also, there were times when we were riding up-hill, rain whipped and cold, that I should've walked my bike since I was riding so slowly that my bike almost turned over for lack of propulsion. I could audibly hear the freaking bears snicker and snear, "Too easy.. That's just too damn easy. Plus, get a load of her pants.."

(sigh)

The good news is that I was in high spirits (yes, before the brew) and was able to make jokes about wanting to find some sweet jumps.

The attractive men took it upon themselves to mention how wet my pants were. Perhaps it was because I kept shrieking like a teenage girl, "Hey! I can't believe how wet my pants are! Look at this! Ohmahgod! It's probably the altitude!" over and over.

I don't want to sound like it was a ruined excursion. In fact, it might have been my favorite one! And, after the brew, I really didn't care about my pants at all or about the fact that with every step, my panties wrung a tiny stream of water down my legs. I took out (literally in the form of a body check) any and all frustration on one of the attractive men hecklers at the end of our frantic hike back to the ship, which is a different story for a different post.

The moral is don't be embarrassed about rain gear. Wearing it could prevent high levels of embarrassment, though I'm sure I would've found a different path to total self-mortification on this excursion.

* So, here in Texas we say "boo coos", but I just realized that what we are really saying is beaucoups - as in the French merci beaucoups (thank you very much). We totally bastardized that one.

** "Wow, rants are easy to come by," said the girl who is now drooling for pancakes

Hush Hush. Keep it down, now. Voices carry!

Over the last month, I have experienced profoundly still, self actualizing moments (my breath is still caught in the inhale of some of them); horrifyingly embarrassing incidents (some hilariously entertaining, and others not so funny but entertaining nonetheless); and completely CIRCUSY, mad (!) mad (again!) moments of insanity.

I would like to share (most of) them with you.

Here's the problem:

All of these happenings seem to be lodged in a blurry, ooze-goozey milieu in my brain, and I can't really concentrate on one story or another without something else schlepping its way into what was, for twenty seconds, a concrete focus. For example, I was all set to write about this one specific happening in Alaska, but before the typing started I had already gotten up three times: to get a book that I read while in Alaska (for excerpt sharing), to get the email address of a new friend whom I met on my travels and of whom the excerpt reminded me at that moment, and to check my phone messages, speaking of friends, to see if P and A have a new baby yet. (She's due today. I'm not just randomly checking.)

Rich and I were having a conversation last night about having a Freaky Friday experience. (Was that really Lindsay Lohan in the remake?) I won't go into detail except to say that when I asked him if he would ever want to trade places with me, he laughed out loud and said he didn't think he could handle it..

Such is my brain.

Despite the constant interruptions by the little distractions in my head, that miry ooze-goozum is slowly solidifying into firm memories. Unfortunately, they are also being molded and moulded by time so they may not be ALL THE WAY true. But I'll try to be honest in my sharing. Plus, you won't know if I'm telling the truth or not and you won't be able to tell because

I do some stupid shit.

Ask Christine who recently joined ranks with Rich, Mark, and the majority of my students in her verbalization of the opinion that I'm a tad on the crazy side "in a good way" --whatever that means. So unless you were with me as a direct observer and recorder of events, you'll never REALLY know the God's honest truth (laughing to myself maniacally).

AND This is a public apology to you, Christine. I'm sorry for frogging you (with great force and precision) in the arm, but maybe next time you'll think twice before attacking me with another ridiculously loud robotic phone rooster!

Wait. Who's crazy?!

More to come.

from Weeds

A conversation between a middle aged suburban (unhappily) married PTA attending soccer mom and a troubled 10 year old boy- on life:

Soccer Mom: Everyone thinks I've lost my mind.

Boy: Everyone thinks I'm weird.

SM: Well, I can see why you may give that impression.

B: I really don't care what they think.

SM: Good for you. Let your freak flag fly!

B: Really?

SM: Really. I've recently stopped giving a shit about what anyone says, and I gotta tell you, I feel great!

B: But you have cancer.

SM: And you have a dead father.

Both of us make people feel really uncomfortable. There is no way around it. So either we can feel all self-conscious and pretend that everything is normal, or we can just be our strange selves.

B. Thank you.

SM: For what?

B: For telling me the truth.

SM: You're welcome.

It's a bitch though, ain't it?

B: (nods)

The fun never ends! Also this week-end, I was lucky enough to fly home on the day that Cliff and Deidra were here visiting from Buffalo. Also, P-ta just returned from England three days ago and we were all able to connect and meet for one evening! Cliff (who married the amazing Deidra)and P-ta are two of my best friends from college and they are still so, so dear to me! Deidra and I have recently connected in the blogosphere. What a great reason to keep a blog! I am such a lucky girl to have such wonderful friends!!
left to right: Jeremy, P-ta, Deidra, Cliffy, Wratch, and me
(more pics on the flickr)

NYC Baby!

Here are the promised NYC pics! For only having from 5:00 pm onwards to explore the city, I think we did a lot: Central Park, Times Square, Trump Tower, Grand Central Station, The Guggenheim, Staten Island Ferry and Lady Liberty, a Broadway show, Chinatown (briefly), and more! On top of that we were studying and sitting in conferences, meeting new freinds, networking, etc. NYC was a whirlwind of a good time!

Click here for more pics.

Cowboy Cocktails and Craziness

Friend P-ta is in town and we decided to keep a live blog on the goings on so that you can be a part of the festivities. We are having what we call a Cowboy Cocktails sampling and gaming party which could end in a variety of very interesting ways. I've already smeared the new Nestles chocolate caramel crunch bar all over parts of my anatomy, and I was stone cold sober for that. So who knows where the evening will take us.



We selected several cocktails from the book, wrote their names on small pieces of paper, put them in my Olympic pith helmet, and drew the first drink. All recipes are from Grady Spears and Brigit L. Binns book called Cowboy Cocktails which pairs drink recipes with country music listening suggestions.
(disclaimer: we're only making one of each drink to share share among the three of us. Also, we're drinking them about an hour apart from each other)

Pick #1: The Texican
Ingredients: tequila, cranberry juice, and lime.
Music: "Did I Shave My Legs For This?" by Deana Carter, but we're listening to "Come On Eileen" by Dexys Midnight Runners.
Game: Der Untergang Von Pompeji which comes with a cardboard volcano and fake lava.

Verdict: I prefer the Cape Cod over The Texican, but if you like the taste of tequila, you'll like this one. It actually tastes really light. The game was fun, but most of my people died in the lava, so I lost.







Pick #2: Well Water (but we're calling it Spring Water since we substituted vodka for gin)
Ingredients: voka, triple sec, and blue curacao over crushed ice
Music: "Blue Water" by Poco but we're listening to "A Little Respect" by Erasure
Game: Niagra which involves mining gems, a canoe, and not getting swept over a waterfall

Verdict: The drink is F.O.U.L. but would be worse with gin and my canoe went over the falls one too many times, so I lost.






Pick #3: Margtini
Ingredients: tequila, triple sec, lime juice, and soda
Music: "Mister Richard Smoker" by Ween, but we're listening to "A Million Ways To Be Cruel" by OK Go.
Game: Masons which involves building walls and cities

Verdict: The drink is extremely lime-y and tequila-y. It's pretty sour, but I like it better than the Well Water, but not as much as the The Texican. The game was fun, though I couldn't build enough walls to save myself, so I lost.



Pick #4: Purple Jesus (Steve in Rhode Island picked this one for us and then asked that I give him credit for it - that publicity whore!! Leave me a comment next time, Steve. I mean, wish you were here..)
Ingredients: vodka, grape juice, and ginger ale
Music: Honkey Talk Heroes by Waylon Jennings, but we're listening to The Sundays
Game: Einfach Genial (which means I'm a genius), a game about laying tiles (???) It's also a game where your highest lowest score wins and you yell "Einfach Genial" when one of your tiles gets the highest score. Everyone else yells, "yah!"


Verdict: The drink is alcoholic communion pretty much. I like it because it tastes like grape juice. So it turns out that Ich bin nicht ein Genie, and therefore I lost.
But P-ta won!!!
"Yah!!"

Pick #5: Texas Tea (Steve in LONG Island picked this one for us and then asked that I give him credit for it - that publicity whore!! I mean, I still wish you were here..)
Ingredients: A whole lot of stuff and Dr. Pepper (to make it Texan) and an asprin garnish
Music: "Sunset on the Sage" by Commander Cody, but we're listening to "Shout" by Tears for Fears
Game: Zooloretto where you collect and breed animals and put them in a zoo..


Verdict: The drink does NOT taste like any Texas Tea I've ever had which is disappointing, but the game is interesting already seeing as Rich and P-ta are separating pandas and elephants.. Most of my animals were sterile, so I lost.

***Reminder - We are sharing 1 drink at a time and have had 5 in 6 hours.***

That's all I can stand tonight seeing as we started this fun at 4:00 and it is now 11:20.
What a great day!!!

all of this AND they want my face on a marquee in Times Square!

I'm home from The Big Apple! They begged me to stay on Broadway since I'm (what they call) a natural; they applauded my sweet dance moves and natural, God given singing abilities. Ok, Ok.. so only a couple of people were enthusiastic. But they have connections, if you know what I'm sayin'.

Um. Right. So the rave reviews came from a homeless man who was already clapping to himself before I walked past and a guy from Brooklyn who said, "fogedda bout it."

And the guy from Brooklyn was actually responding to a question I had about a ferry ride and not my performing talents.. which I guess is a good thing.

Whatever.

I can say that made an impression there.

I'm home, safe and happy, but they'll have to calf-rope me to keep me here for long. :)

(pictures to follow)

Briefly..

Alaska is amazing.

That's really all I need to share.

I don't think that I can verbally express to you the beauty that is inherent in Alaska, the spirituality that accompanies the nature, and the miracles - the designs of water, ice, earth, and air that illustrate godly art (inspired moments !) sometimes configured in different orders , but crafted and purposeful.

And cruising is so much fun! It was nice to have a "home base" for all of the excursions. I even got to unpack. Also, there are always a million things to do on the ship: There were art auctions, wine tasting, karaoke, tango lessons, towel art class, a spa, and MORE! Rich and I didn't take part in many of the extras - we found other things to do.. BUT cruising is a lot of fun! See these pictures for the proof (of the ship activities and excursions):










(Click here for more Alaska pics OR visit the Flickr badge).

I LOVED getting to have this vacation! I am a very lucky girl! (Thank you, Mom!!!)

Home Again Home Again Jiggedy Jig

Now I am home from trip #2,
Alaskan cruise and bike 'n brew!

:)

Pictures and posts are coming soon, time permitting..