Oh Christmas. The weirdest time of year for me because there's just so much family and so much suburbs. I am currently sitting in my father's living room drinking copious amounts of coffee, breathing in the second hand smoke from my father and step-mother's ciggarettes, and watching the soccer mom's section of the Today show.
Since my mother moved to Colorado, coming home to my dad's house is just... awkward. There's no place for me here. Each of the other kids has their own room in the house, but I'm the one that didn't grow up here. I am the odd one who came to MD and stayed at my mom's house which (while I hate everything about the Kentlands and Lakelands) was home. So here... I constantly feel like I'm imposing in some way. This isn't my home. This is my dad's house. Oh well. There's cable and internet, what else do I really need? Seriously.
In other news, I AM SO HAPPY THAT IT'S WINTER BREAK. I feel like I haven't been able to catch up this year. I am completely planned, but have no real clue how to stay on top of everything I've planned. It's very frustrating. It's like running on a tredmill. I keep going and going and going but really i'm in the same damn spot I was yesterday only now I'm exhausted. (Side note: I changed stations, and now I'm watching Love Actually. I love Alan Rickman.) Basically I really need these ten days off.
Sunnier topics... I've been running around the past month with fun social events as well. Post-Thanksgiving Potluck was a lot of fun. Though we played Apples to Apples with lots of people, which did not work out so well. Mad River Happy Hour was a lot of crazy dancing, cheap liquor, and general debauchery. Jess' play was fantastic. Delivering Operation Santa presents was heartwarming, and not the least bit scary :) (gotta love nicetown).
I'm a bit doofy over a new boy, but you know i get like that sometimes. It's good and grown up and I'm playing it cool, calm, collected... or so I'd like to think. (And that's all of the gossip you'll be allowed to get from me on that.)
My laptop is about to die, and so I am going to go.
More another time my loves.
Monday, December 24, 2007
Sunday, November 04, 2007
"And that creaking you hear... is my brain's overload."
I have lots of little things that I want to say, and none would be able to make it's way to a full entry... so I made a list.
1. If I time my morning commute right, I can watch the sunrise over the delaware river when the EL goes up to Spring Garden. The row homes are silouhetted in black against the bright oranges and purples of the morning sky. It's enough to make North Philadelphia and even New Jersey look beautiful.
2. A BNL song popped into my head for the first time in ages on Friday night. "Oh alcohol, would you please forgive me? While I cannot love myself, I use something else."
3. The amount of grading i have to do might make my head explode.
4. Three cops were shot in Philadelphia last week in three different situations. One passed away, the other two are recovering. It's a tragedy, and slightly unnerving that criminals are now fine with shooting law enforcement. It makes me mad though that it took these three shootings for people to begin getting worried about the crime in the city. Since January 1st, 2007 to October 18th, 2007 there were 318 murders. And in the past week, they have just now figured out that Philly has a problem? Oh the town I love so much...
5. I wish I remembered all the things I wanted to say when I started writing...
1. If I time my morning commute right, I can watch the sunrise over the delaware river when the EL goes up to Spring Garden. The row homes are silouhetted in black against the bright oranges and purples of the morning sky. It's enough to make North Philadelphia and even New Jersey look beautiful.
2. A BNL song popped into my head for the first time in ages on Friday night. "Oh alcohol, would you please forgive me? While I cannot love myself, I use something else."
3. The amount of grading i have to do might make my head explode.
4. Three cops were shot in Philadelphia last week in three different situations. One passed away, the other two are recovering. It's a tragedy, and slightly unnerving that criminals are now fine with shooting law enforcement. It makes me mad though that it took these three shootings for people to begin getting worried about the crime in the city. Since January 1st, 2007 to October 18th, 2007 there were 318 murders. And in the past week, they have just now figured out that Philly has a problem? Oh the town I love so much...
5. I wish I remembered all the things I wanted to say when I started writing...
Saturday, October 27, 2007
"Takes two beers to remember why, and five more to forget..."
A warning to those that read this: This entry is whiny. This entry is melodramatic. To all those who are going to read it, I am aware that i am being whiny and melodramatic. No, mom, i don't want to talk about it.
Moving on.
Halloween reminds me of him. It reminds me of the party where we got drunk and I made him pinky swear that when he was 26 and I was 30 that we would date "for real" as I called it. He laughed and kissed my cheek. I was dating someone else, and i knew deep down that it was going to end. It was the night we stayed up all night telling secrets. It was a night that we just knew. The next day we debriefed. I told him that I wanted to stay with the boy i was currently dating, and reminded him of our pinky swear. A week later, I had been dumped, he'd been mugged, septa was on strike and he held me tight on the futon in the living room of kellie's apartment. Between October 30th and November 6th, I just remember him.
I remember that he's gone and won't come back. This year I remember just how alone i really am. I remember that at 25, I have never held a relationship longer than 7 months. I remember the men who i've driven away for whatever reason, and all the faults and cynacism that I have towards relationships. I sit here alone in my halloween costume, thinking of him, thinking of "all the loves that could have been, if i'd only thought of something charming to say."
I feel like I've "gone long enough, waiting for wonderful."
Moving on.
Halloween reminds me of him. It reminds me of the party where we got drunk and I made him pinky swear that when he was 26 and I was 30 that we would date "for real" as I called it. He laughed and kissed my cheek. I was dating someone else, and i knew deep down that it was going to end. It was the night we stayed up all night telling secrets. It was a night that we just knew. The next day we debriefed. I told him that I wanted to stay with the boy i was currently dating, and reminded him of our pinky swear. A week later, I had been dumped, he'd been mugged, septa was on strike and he held me tight on the futon in the living room of kellie's apartment. Between October 30th and November 6th, I just remember him.
I remember that he's gone and won't come back. This year I remember just how alone i really am. I remember that at 25, I have never held a relationship longer than 7 months. I remember the men who i've driven away for whatever reason, and all the faults and cynacism that I have towards relationships. I sit here alone in my halloween costume, thinking of him, thinking of "all the loves that could have been, if i'd only thought of something charming to say."
I feel like I've "gone long enough, waiting for wonderful."
Sunday, October 14, 2007
"So in the end it's not just you with your memories and your scars..."
Jess stole my journal entry idea. I blame the fact that she can stay up after a concert to update her blog, whereas I turned into a pumpkin on the ride home. Actually, I just think she and I think very similarly and we both love the nathanson so much.
Quick concert review: fan-freaking-tastic. He played the best of the new album, "then I'll be smiling," "loud," "church clothes," his standards from beneath these fireworks, "answering machine," "don't stop believin'," "laid," "lucky boy," and then CAME BACK after his finale to do one more song "little victories." I love him.
Still, much like jess, I was thinking about music and it's affect on me. I have songs for everyone. I have a soundtrack to my life at all times. There are songs that I equate with myself, and lyrics that i think sum me up. Like everyone, I have lyrics that I wish I associated with myself.
When this entry was first concieved, I was going to go through a bunch of songs that had to do with my life (very much in the way Graham and I spent time talking about our autobiographical songs), but now I think I'm just going to pass on that idea.
I was laying in bed this morning thinking about autumn. I'm not going to elaborate. I'm just going to post the lyrics to the two songs that popped into my mind.
"5 am, undressed
In your static, in your mess
I don't need any new voices
I'm thick enough with superstitions and choices...
Sing me sweet
sing me low
say you'll never let me go
'cause I've gone long enough
waiting for wonderful...
Just to stay like this
In the give of your lips
In the dim half-light dawn
Pinned below your undertow
When everything meant everything again
------"Sing Me Sweet"
"Since you went away the days grow long
And soon I'll hear old winter's song
But I miss you most of all my darling
When autumn leaves start to fall..."
------ "Autumn Leaves"
Quick concert review: fan-freaking-tastic. He played the best of the new album, "then I'll be smiling," "loud," "church clothes," his standards from beneath these fireworks, "answering machine," "don't stop believin'," "laid," "lucky boy," and then CAME BACK after his finale to do one more song "little victories." I love him.
Still, much like jess, I was thinking about music and it's affect on me. I have songs for everyone. I have a soundtrack to my life at all times. There are songs that I equate with myself, and lyrics that i think sum me up. Like everyone, I have lyrics that I wish I associated with myself.
When this entry was first concieved, I was going to go through a bunch of songs that had to do with my life (very much in the way Graham and I spent time talking about our autobiographical songs), but now I think I'm just going to pass on that idea.
I was laying in bed this morning thinking about autumn. I'm not going to elaborate. I'm just going to post the lyrics to the two songs that popped into my mind.
"5 am, undressed
In your static, in your mess
I don't need any new voices
I'm thick enough with superstitions and choices...
Sing me sweet
sing me low
say you'll never let me go
'cause I've gone long enough
waiting for wonderful...
Just to stay like this
In the give of your lips
In the dim half-light dawn
Pinned below your undertow
When everything meant everything again
------"Sing Me Sweet"
"Since you went away the days grow long
And soon I'll hear old winter's song
But I miss you most of all my darling
When autumn leaves start to fall..."
------ "Autumn Leaves"
Monday, October 08, 2007
"Why do they do it? Show up anyway?"
I went back through my livejournal a few weeks ago. There are very few things that are more humbling than going back and reading about what a loser you were in college. One thing that stuck out from my whiny brat college life, was how much fun I had hanging out with Graham. Sure there were those brief periods of awkwardness when mistakes were made, but for the most part I really do love my graham-elah. So this weekend, I packed a backpack of clothing, hopped a train, and made my way to Manchester CT. Here's a breakdown of my weekend...
"I want to travel like Duke Ellington in my own railway car..."- Ani Difranco. "Self-Evident"
I would like to start with a big "fuck you very much" to Amtrak. My train which was traveling the northeast corridor from DC to Boston (Springfield to be technical) arrived to Philly on time. I found a seat and began my journey. A half hour into the journey, the train slowed to a crawl and stopped with a shudder and ka-thunk. The electricity on the train went out, and the conductor got on the emergency PA and announced that we were having "technical difficulties." 20 minutes later, the girl in front of me (who was an '05 tfa person who still teaches in Philly) noticed a crowd of people had gathered on the side of the tracks, with fire engines and police. The engine of our train was on fire. 10 minutes later the "rescue train" showed up and we evacuated on to that (yes I spent a half hour on a train with a burning engine). The "rescue train" was just an empty NJ transit train, and it took us another hour to get everyone off the original train and on to the "rescue train." Finally we get to New York Penn Station at 8:30 p.m. I was supposed to be in Hartford, CT by 9:30. The NJ transit train dropped all of us off at Penn Station and we were basically told to fend for ourselves. So naturally the mob of angry travelers descended upon the customer service booth, and Amtrak put us on the 9:07 train to Springfield. We boarded that train and all was smooth sailing until we got to New Haven at 11:00 p.m. The electricity turned off, the train stopped (engine off) and we didn't move for 10 minutes. I called graham and loudly exclaimed "Now I'm stuck in fucking New Haven..." the expletives continued until graham hung up and we started moving 5 minutes after that. I got to graham at 11:57 p.m.
"There's nothing like looking at your own history in the faces of your friends."- Ani Difranco "Good, bad, ugly"
I assumed that once I got back to Graham's apt, we would make small talk and then opt for sleep since we both worked all day. I was wrong. It had been two years since we'd seen each other, so we started talking. And talking. And talking. And finally at 4 a.m. we gave up and decided we should sleep. For the record, graham has a beautiful apartment. True it is in a rather yuppie dorm-esque apartment building, but it really is a beautiful place.
The next morning Graham made omelets and we sat around watching episodes of TV shows that I am going to have to start watching (Curb Your Enthusiasm and Entourage) and a great "horror movie" called Behind the Mask which was thoroughly enjoyable. It was a lazy day filled with the same types of conversations Graham and I had been having for years. We talked about movies, music and books. We reminisced about old times, he showed me clips of things on the web that he discovered and needed to share. Occasionally, he picked up his guitar and we sang like we used to. It was two years of hang out time that we felt we needed to catch up on in one day. Around 4, we decided to get ready to go out to dinner with graham's gf, my ex-bf (not too random he's good friends with graham), and this gentlemen's new gf.
"Here we are again and we're looking at each other as if each other were to blame. You think your smart, but I've seen you naked... if all else fails you can blame it on me."- BNL
One of the benefits of my dating career is that I tend to have relationships with men that plan on leaving the city of Philadelphia within a certain time period, or that live elsewhere and commute to see me (such as this case). I would say that this has just been a freaky coincidence, but since my MO is to seek men that are emotionally unavailable for whatever reason, I think my subconscious finds these men more attractive. Fascinating as this thought might be, however, it is not the point. The point is with almost all of my old relationships living in different states, I rarely have to deal with meeting an ex-boyfriend and his new girlfriend. When Graham asked if I would object to seeing this particular ex and his new girlfriend, I agreed because it had been two years and there were really no hard feelings between us. I assumed it would be slightly awkward, but again it had been two years, HE had dumped ME, and I was okay with it so why wouldn't the other girl be okay with it. Clearly, I forgot to take into consideration the female psychie. I will not go into detail with how painful this four hour dinner was, but I will say I have never in my life sat across from another woman that wanted to see me dead more. (And I have pissed off alot of women in my life.)
"Seems like so long ago when we were carefree..."- Jamie Cullum
The rest of Saturday night into Sunday was more of the same graham and I telling stories and goofing off. Graham's gf joined in the fun, commenting on our stories and sharing her own. I like her. She's good for him. Graham and her got me addicted to The Office, and I'll now be spending time on various illegal websites attempting to watch the seasons I've missed. I finally saw Borat and this weird Canadian feminist horror movie Ginger Snaps (highly recommend it).
I don't really know what else to say about my visit. Graham and I had this conversation once in college about the people in our lives that make us crazy. They frustrate us, they make us mad, they disappoint and leave us, but they are still people that we love no matter what. He thought that this one girl was his in college. I think though that we are starting to learn that we are that person for each other. Graham makes me crazy. He frustrates me. He has disappointed me. He has left me. He has broken my heart. He is still one of my favorite people. He is still someone that I do love having in my life.
(Thus ends the longest entry EVER)
"I want to travel like Duke Ellington in my own railway car..."- Ani Difranco. "Self-Evident"
I would like to start with a big "fuck you very much" to Amtrak. My train which was traveling the northeast corridor from DC to Boston (Springfield to be technical) arrived to Philly on time. I found a seat and began my journey. A half hour into the journey, the train slowed to a crawl and stopped with a shudder and ka-thunk. The electricity on the train went out, and the conductor got on the emergency PA and announced that we were having "technical difficulties." 20 minutes later, the girl in front of me (who was an '05 tfa person who still teaches in Philly) noticed a crowd of people had gathered on the side of the tracks, with fire engines and police. The engine of our train was on fire. 10 minutes later the "rescue train" showed up and we evacuated on to that (yes I spent a half hour on a train with a burning engine). The "rescue train" was just an empty NJ transit train, and it took us another hour to get everyone off the original train and on to the "rescue train." Finally we get to New York Penn Station at 8:30 p.m. I was supposed to be in Hartford, CT by 9:30. The NJ transit train dropped all of us off at Penn Station and we were basically told to fend for ourselves. So naturally the mob of angry travelers descended upon the customer service booth, and Amtrak put us on the 9:07 train to Springfield. We boarded that train and all was smooth sailing until we got to New Haven at 11:00 p.m. The electricity turned off, the train stopped (engine off) and we didn't move for 10 minutes. I called graham and loudly exclaimed "Now I'm stuck in fucking New Haven..." the expletives continued until graham hung up and we started moving 5 minutes after that. I got to graham at 11:57 p.m.
"There's nothing like looking at your own history in the faces of your friends."- Ani Difranco "Good, bad, ugly"
I assumed that once I got back to Graham's apt, we would make small talk and then opt for sleep since we both worked all day. I was wrong. It had been two years since we'd seen each other, so we started talking. And talking. And talking. And finally at 4 a.m. we gave up and decided we should sleep. For the record, graham has a beautiful apartment. True it is in a rather yuppie dorm-esque apartment building, but it really is a beautiful place.
The next morning Graham made omelets and we sat around watching episodes of TV shows that I am going to have to start watching (Curb Your Enthusiasm and Entourage) and a great "horror movie" called Behind the Mask which was thoroughly enjoyable. It was a lazy day filled with the same types of conversations Graham and I had been having for years. We talked about movies, music and books. We reminisced about old times, he showed me clips of things on the web that he discovered and needed to share. Occasionally, he picked up his guitar and we sang like we used to. It was two years of hang out time that we felt we needed to catch up on in one day. Around 4, we decided to get ready to go out to dinner with graham's gf, my ex-bf (not too random he's good friends with graham), and this gentlemen's new gf.
"Here we are again and we're looking at each other as if each other were to blame. You think your smart, but I've seen you naked... if all else fails you can blame it on me."- BNL
One of the benefits of my dating career is that I tend to have relationships with men that plan on leaving the city of Philadelphia within a certain time period, or that live elsewhere and commute to see me (such as this case). I would say that this has just been a freaky coincidence, but since my MO is to seek men that are emotionally unavailable for whatever reason, I think my subconscious finds these men more attractive. Fascinating as this thought might be, however, it is not the point. The point is with almost all of my old relationships living in different states, I rarely have to deal with meeting an ex-boyfriend and his new girlfriend. When Graham asked if I would object to seeing this particular ex and his new girlfriend, I agreed because it had been two years and there were really no hard feelings between us. I assumed it would be slightly awkward, but again it had been two years, HE had dumped ME, and I was okay with it so why wouldn't the other girl be okay with it. Clearly, I forgot to take into consideration the female psychie. I will not go into detail with how painful this four hour dinner was, but I will say I have never in my life sat across from another woman that wanted to see me dead more. (And I have pissed off alot of women in my life.)
"Seems like so long ago when we were carefree..."- Jamie Cullum
The rest of Saturday night into Sunday was more of the same graham and I telling stories and goofing off. Graham's gf joined in the fun, commenting on our stories and sharing her own. I like her. She's good for him. Graham and her got me addicted to The Office, and I'll now be spending time on various illegal websites attempting to watch the seasons I've missed. I finally saw Borat and this weird Canadian feminist horror movie Ginger Snaps (highly recommend it).
I don't really know what else to say about my visit. Graham and I had this conversation once in college about the people in our lives that make us crazy. They frustrate us, they make us mad, they disappoint and leave us, but they are still people that we love no matter what. He thought that this one girl was his in college. I think though that we are starting to learn that we are that person for each other. Graham makes me crazy. He frustrates me. He has disappointed me. He has left me. He has broken my heart. He is still one of my favorite people. He is still someone that I do love having in my life.
(Thus ends the longest entry EVER)
Saturday, September 29, 2007
Holding the Universe Together
In a given week I get about thirty to forty emails from my three closest friends. We hit reply all, and spend any free moment we get sending small details from our day across the internet to all parts of philadelphia, the burbs, and cleveland. We rant about our jobs, tell stories, and offer advice about current problems. It's the only way we can manage our crazy schedules to maintain the strong bond we created a long time ago.
The concept of Liquid Nails was a joke born out of Amanda's drunken declaration that after our college graduation we would never see each other again, and Angie's calming logic that our friendship was the strongest force on earth, kind of like Liquid Nails. (We, also, cause neurological damage in california apparently.) Graduation happened, our lives really began and in our fits of life and email the three of us developed another strong bond with the one that really keeps us together (because emailing is what she does best).
Now we are four. We each have a different thing that connects us to each other. For Jess and I, it is our ability to talk for hours. For Angie and I, it's our desire for something greater in our lives, and our slight bitterness (let's be honest). For Amanda and I, it's so many things and so much history (after all, she and I were friends first).
I bring them up now, almost four years after our first drunken declaration of friendship, because of their uncanny ways of knowing what i need in my life. From the emails that keep me sane between classes, the phone message that tells me that i didn't, in fact, embarrass myself while I was out at the bar, or just the acceptance of me when I need that love and acceptance the most. Thinking about it now, they really do hold my universe together.
"I act like I have faith, and like that faith never ends, but I really just have friends."
The concept of Liquid Nails was a joke born out of Amanda's drunken declaration that after our college graduation we would never see each other again, and Angie's calming logic that our friendship was the strongest force on earth, kind of like Liquid Nails. (We, also, cause neurological damage in california apparently.) Graduation happened, our lives really began and in our fits of life and email the three of us developed another strong bond with the one that really keeps us together (because emailing is what she does best).
Now we are four. We each have a different thing that connects us to each other. For Jess and I, it is our ability to talk for hours. For Angie and I, it's our desire for something greater in our lives, and our slight bitterness (let's be honest). For Amanda and I, it's so many things and so much history (after all, she and I were friends first).
I bring them up now, almost four years after our first drunken declaration of friendship, because of their uncanny ways of knowing what i need in my life. From the emails that keep me sane between classes, the phone message that tells me that i didn't, in fact, embarrass myself while I was out at the bar, or just the acceptance of me when I need that love and acceptance the most. Thinking about it now, they really do hold my universe together.
"I act like I have faith, and like that faith never ends, but I really just have friends."
Sunday, September 16, 2007
All we are we are.
I found a person on facebook who I hadn't talked to in almost seven years. Very common for facebook, we all find people here and there from our pasts, and "friend" them for no apparent reason. It's essentially a great big high school reunion, only less alcohol and less pressure to actually speak to people. It opens up a strange floodgate of emotion for me to re-meet people that I once knew so well. This person and I went to middle school together, and spent three or so years together in BBYO. We used to exchange writing, and occasional witty conversation. He was smarter than me (still is), but yet was rarely if ever the type of person to make me feel dumb. After reconnecting on facebook, he encouraged me to call him. So tonight, I did. Terrified, I dialed the number. I don't like the phone. I'm a writer by nature. I sound better on paper than I can ever express in words, and tonight the 20 minute conversation we had proved this point. It was, without a doubt, the most awkward conversation I have ever had.
We talked unelaborately about many things; college majors, writing, teaching, and americorps. (Side note: I am starting to embrace the semi-colon after years of hating it.) We touched lightly on my disdain for Gaithersburg and his love of it. We forced casual small talk, and at the end of the call I was left feeling... awkward and uncertain and somewhat embarrassed. I'm not necessarily sure why. I always feel weird when I talk to people I grew up with. It always leads me into a moment of asking myself: Who am I? Really? Am I the same person I've always been? Have I changed drastically? How do I define myself now? So here I am, about to tell you all (who know and love me on some weird level, or else you wouldn't read this) how I describe myself these days.
I walk when I'm contemplative; I clean when I'm sad; I sing when I'm angry; I sleep when I'm stressed. I drink too much coffee. I've been known to drink too much alcohol. I laugh at inappropriate jokes. I love my friends. I am terrible at keeping in touch. I believe education can be the great equalizer. I work a lot. I play a lot too. I love the ocean. I love books. I hate the phone. I have a cat, but no roommate. I am terrible in relationships. I find wisdom in songs. I don't dance, I bop. I can be catty. I, occasionally, have pedestrian rage. I am a forced extrovert. I love Philadelphia. I have a special place in my heart for broadway musicals. I daydream a lot. I sometimes feel like I ran away from home when I was 20. I want to see the world. I don't know how to drive. I'm an idealist, but not an optimist. I might be the same person that I was at 15, but I try really hard not to be.
And that's me.
We talked unelaborately about many things; college majors, writing, teaching, and americorps. (Side note: I am starting to embrace the semi-colon after years of hating it.) We touched lightly on my disdain for Gaithersburg and his love of it. We forced casual small talk, and at the end of the call I was left feeling... awkward and uncertain and somewhat embarrassed. I'm not necessarily sure why. I always feel weird when I talk to people I grew up with. It always leads me into a moment of asking myself: Who am I? Really? Am I the same person I've always been? Have I changed drastically? How do I define myself now? So here I am, about to tell you all (who know and love me on some weird level, or else you wouldn't read this) how I describe myself these days.
I walk when I'm contemplative; I clean when I'm sad; I sing when I'm angry; I sleep when I'm stressed. I drink too much coffee. I've been known to drink too much alcohol. I laugh at inappropriate jokes. I love my friends. I am terrible at keeping in touch. I believe education can be the great equalizer. I work a lot. I play a lot too. I love the ocean. I love books. I hate the phone. I have a cat, but no roommate. I am terrible in relationships. I find wisdom in songs. I don't dance, I bop. I can be catty. I, occasionally, have pedestrian rage. I am a forced extrovert. I love Philadelphia. I have a special place in my heart for broadway musicals. I daydream a lot. I sometimes feel like I ran away from home when I was 20. I want to see the world. I don't know how to drive. I'm an idealist, but not an optimist. I might be the same person that I was at 15, but I try really hard not to be.
And that's me.
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
Broke into the old apartment...
I live in chaos. I always have. I am not a neat person. I'm not a slob, I just creat clutter. That's what makes home to me.
I've been thinking recently about the places I've lived since I moved to Philadelphia after college three years go. (July 3rd marked the three year anniversary.) I've been thinking about my four apartments and five roommates. I loved the apartment on Christian St. with it's minimal furniture, and transient roommates. It's proximity to everything, and it's multicolored living room. I loved the front porch on Spruce St., but mostly loved the company I kept on that front porch. I loved Hazel Ave. though everyone makes fun of my time at "50th and shoot you in the face". It was a small apartment that had a lot of character. I think I just loved living with Elena.
Now, though, I actually feel at home in this fourth apartment.. I have pictures on the walls, and furniture from Gaithersburg. Three years, three apartments, five roommates later... I am comfortable saying that have found a home in Philly.
I've been thinking recently about the places I've lived since I moved to Philadelphia after college three years go. (July 3rd marked the three year anniversary.) I've been thinking about my four apartments and five roommates. I loved the apartment on Christian St. with it's minimal furniture, and transient roommates. It's proximity to everything, and it's multicolored living room. I loved the front porch on Spruce St., but mostly loved the company I kept on that front porch. I loved Hazel Ave. though everyone makes fun of my time at "50th and shoot you in the face". It was a small apartment that had a lot of character. I think I just loved living with Elena.
Now, though, I actually feel at home in this fourth apartment.. I have pictures on the walls, and furniture from Gaithersburg. Three years, three apartments, five roommates later... I am comfortable saying that have found a home in Philly.
Thursday, August 16, 2007
"They all think I'm easy, well I'm easy, 'cause I let them win..."
A month ago, Jess chastised me with, "Would you update your blog? You're a writer for christsake!" Well, better late then never I guess, but there's not a whole lot to report.
I have almost completed my first summer off. I did not work at all this summer, with the exception of some curriculum work that I did from home. I got to travel a little bit, and read books for fun for the first time in a long while.
I went to visit my mother in Colorado. A beautiful place of mountains and small towns. She's happy there, which makes me happy, though it's not as convenient to visit as Gaithersburg. A few weeks later I ventured down to North Carolina with my Dad, Step-Mom and the gaggle of stepsiblings and other related types. It astounds me how much Duck, NC has changed since I was a little kid, and yet it astounds me how it has stayed the same. I read books that week, and window shopped at the same places I did throughout elementary school.
Since I last wrote, I started and ended a relationship which was very "when it was good it was very very good and when it was bad it was horrid." It's over though, and now I'm convinced that I'm going to wind up alone with cats. I'm getting more okay with that.
On August 27, I go back to school and my students arrive a week later. Year #2 will begin as will my attempt to make year 2 better than year 1. I want to learn from my mistakes. I want to have classroom management (or something that resembles classroom management). I want my kids to actually read a book. Who knows? I just want to get back to work.
Some reviews (in case you care...):
Book:
The Corrections by Jonathan Franzen- I liked it, but not as much as I thought I would based on the reviews that I read of it. The characters are deep and complex, the family dynamics are very real, but the actually plot is... drawn out. It was a good read though. (Note: it makes
Heart Shaped Box by Joe Hill- No it's not about Kurt Cobain. Really quick read, but a good ghost story. Aging rock star (ala Ozzy Osborne) has a fetish for the occult and buys a "ghost" off ebay. Thinks it's a joke, but then weird things start happening. Seems contrite, but actually it's done well.
What the Dead Know by Laura Lippman- It's been a while since I went out and bought everything an author has written, but this chick rocks. Two sisters go missing one afternoon at the mall in Baltimore county. Thirty years later, long after they are presumed dead, a woman claiming to be the younger sister is involved in a hit and run accident. Good characters, good plot twists, all and all a great story.
Okay...
I have almost completed my first summer off. I did not work at all this summer, with the exception of some curriculum work that I did from home. I got to travel a little bit, and read books for fun for the first time in a long while.
I went to visit my mother in Colorado. A beautiful place of mountains and small towns. She's happy there, which makes me happy, though it's not as convenient to visit as Gaithersburg. A few weeks later I ventured down to North Carolina with my Dad, Step-Mom and the gaggle of stepsiblings and other related types. It astounds me how much Duck, NC has changed since I was a little kid, and yet it astounds me how it has stayed the same. I read books that week, and window shopped at the same places I did throughout elementary school.
Since I last wrote, I started and ended a relationship which was very "when it was good it was very very good and when it was bad it was horrid." It's over though, and now I'm convinced that I'm going to wind up alone with cats. I'm getting more okay with that.
On August 27, I go back to school and my students arrive a week later. Year #2 will begin as will my attempt to make year 2 better than year 1. I want to learn from my mistakes. I want to have classroom management (or something that resembles classroom management). I want my kids to actually read a book. Who knows? I just want to get back to work.
Some reviews (in case you care...):
Book:
The Corrections by Jonathan Franzen- I liked it, but not as much as I thought I would based on the reviews that I read of it. The characters are deep and complex, the family dynamics are very real, but the actually plot is... drawn out. It was a good read though. (Note: it makes
Heart Shaped Box by Joe Hill- No it's not about Kurt Cobain. Really quick read, but a good ghost story. Aging rock star (ala Ozzy Osborne) has a fetish for the occult and buys a "ghost" off ebay. Thinks it's a joke, but then weird things start happening. Seems contrite, but actually it's done well.
What the Dead Know by Laura Lippman- It's been a while since I went out and bought everything an author has written, but this chick rocks. Two sisters go missing one afternoon at the mall in Baltimore county. Thirty years later, long after they are presumed dead, a woman claiming to be the younger sister is involved in a hit and run accident. Good characters, good plot twists, all and all a great story.
Okay...
Sunday, March 11, 2007
Family rituals and fading memories
This morning I woke up, made coffee, toasted a bagel, and sat down to watch CBS Sunday Morning. As I sipped my coffee and learned about chuck close, the youngest big city mayor, david stienberg, and old people roller skating my mind began to wander and I started thinking about my grandma.
At some point in my childhood, my grandma put a little black and white TV in her kitchen so she could watch the news while she cooked. Soon after she complained that she needed a color TV for the kitchen so she could get the full effect of the nature scenes on Sunday Morning. (The "moment of zen" on the Daily Show is a parody of the end of Sunday Morning where they show nature scenes.) My grandma was a woman of rituals. CBS Sunday Morning was a ritual for her. She would get up, make her black coffee, and watch and learn about the world around her.
Most people would call her a woman of habit, but I like to think of her life as classier than just habit. She held everything together through her rituals. She made the same style of dinner for my pop-pop every night. A cup of canned fruit, the meal, and then ice cream in a custard dish. She told the same stories at the same time of the year; birthdays, holidays, summer vacations, election years, etc. She read me the same bedtime story until well into my elementary school years. She made the same date nut bread holiday season. This consistency I am convinced at this point in time held my father's family together. Even today, the holidays with them are not complete until someone makes candied yams in the blue pot like she did every year. When she died and no one was there to tell her stories, make her food, continue the traditions the way she did, my father's family couldn't deal with it. Grandma's rituals and her consistency stay with me, in a way that I desperately wish I could emulate. I long for the ability to oganize the way she did, and keep the same rituals alive. I just don't have that strength and that discipline.
The realization of exactly how much my family depended on her didn't hit me until I was sitting on the couch watching sunday morning smiling and wishing that I had a sunday copy of the Washington Post as well. The problem is that the aniversary of grandma's death is a little under three weeks away, and my memory of her house, her life, and my childhood is slowly fading. There are somethings I will never forget. But for as much as I remember, the edges are starting to get fuzzy. Her voice stays with me, but her apperance slowly blends into pictures that span decades. The layout of her house, the furinture, the smell all slowly melt and move together and I can't remember what was the most recent.
Grandma passed away from colon cancer on March 3o, 1998. I was 15. Her death was increibly hard for me to deal with. As I sit her now on this sunday morning, thinking about our rituals and stories I can't help but hope that where ever my grandmother is now that she can see me and is proud of the person I've become.
At some point in my childhood, my grandma put a little black and white TV in her kitchen so she could watch the news while she cooked. Soon after she complained that she needed a color TV for the kitchen so she could get the full effect of the nature scenes on Sunday Morning. (The "moment of zen" on the Daily Show is a parody of the end of Sunday Morning where they show nature scenes.) My grandma was a woman of rituals. CBS Sunday Morning was a ritual for her. She would get up, make her black coffee, and watch and learn about the world around her.
Most people would call her a woman of habit, but I like to think of her life as classier than just habit. She held everything together through her rituals. She made the same style of dinner for my pop-pop every night. A cup of canned fruit, the meal, and then ice cream in a custard dish. She told the same stories at the same time of the year; birthdays, holidays, summer vacations, election years, etc. She read me the same bedtime story until well into my elementary school years. She made the same date nut bread holiday season. This consistency I am convinced at this point in time held my father's family together. Even today, the holidays with them are not complete until someone makes candied yams in the blue pot like she did every year. When she died and no one was there to tell her stories, make her food, continue the traditions the way she did, my father's family couldn't deal with it. Grandma's rituals and her consistency stay with me, in a way that I desperately wish I could emulate. I long for the ability to oganize the way she did, and keep the same rituals alive. I just don't have that strength and that discipline.
The realization of exactly how much my family depended on her didn't hit me until I was sitting on the couch watching sunday morning smiling and wishing that I had a sunday copy of the Washington Post as well. The problem is that the aniversary of grandma's death is a little under three weeks away, and my memory of her house, her life, and my childhood is slowly fading. There are somethings I will never forget. But for as much as I remember, the edges are starting to get fuzzy. Her voice stays with me, but her apperance slowly blends into pictures that span decades. The layout of her house, the furinture, the smell all slowly melt and move together and I can't remember what was the most recent.
Grandma passed away from colon cancer on March 3o, 1998. I was 15. Her death was increibly hard for me to deal with. As I sit her now on this sunday morning, thinking about our rituals and stories I can't help but hope that where ever my grandmother is now that she can see me and is proud of the person I've become.
Wednesday, January 24, 2007
"Nothing else makes such a desperate sound..."
I had a one on one with the principal today. We have to sit and talk about our year and what we'd like for the following year. Somehow we got on the topic of Americorps (i think because i was trying to explain how Americorps and La Salle are fucking me over), and I started talking about my experiences with CY. Suddenly I heard myself, rambling away with no real point. I felt 15 again. That awkward talking where you know that the person isn't really interested but you keep going. Cringe-worthy moment.
Ooooh good song just came on my playlist.
I was going to write more, but I think I am just going to post the soundtrack to life right now and let other people's words speak for me.
"I still love what I know/I love to ride alone and sing a song and listen to the radio/You can ride alone and if you change your mind, well, that's just fine/But there is somethin' that you got to know/Just don't ask me for the for the truth if you choose to lie honey/And don't try to open my door with your skeleton key/Some folks seem to think I only got one problem/I can't find nobody as crazy as me." (Crazy as Me - Alison Krauss)
"Baby said he couldn't stay, wouldn't put his lips to mine, and a fail to kiss is a fail to cope. I said, 'Honey, I don't feel so good, don't feel justified, come on put a little love here in my void.' He said, 'It's all in your head,' and I said, 'So's everything.' But he didn't get it." (Paper Bag - Fiona Apple)
"Cynical town can be tough on an angel, clips her wings baby 1, 2, 3..." (See Her Smile - Tick Tick Boom)
Ooooh good song just came on my playlist.
I was going to write more, but I think I am just going to post the soundtrack to life right now and let other people's words speak for me.
"I still love what I know/I love to ride alone and sing a song and listen to the radio/You can ride alone and if you change your mind, well, that's just fine/But there is somethin' that you got to know/Just don't ask me for the for the truth if you choose to lie honey/And don't try to open my door with your skeleton key/Some folks seem to think I only got one problem/I can't find nobody as crazy as me." (Crazy as Me - Alison Krauss)
"Baby said he couldn't stay, wouldn't put his lips to mine, and a fail to kiss is a fail to cope. I said, 'Honey, I don't feel so good, don't feel justified, come on put a little love here in my void.' He said, 'It's all in your head,' and I said, 'So's everything.' But he didn't get it." (Paper Bag - Fiona Apple)
"Cynical town can be tough on an angel, clips her wings baby 1, 2, 3..." (See Her Smile - Tick Tick Boom)
Monday, January 01, 2007
"And if the world decides to catch up with me, it's a little victory..."
Welcome to 2007. Out with the old in with the new... Or maybe a little bit of stability and status quo for the new year.
2006 was a year of transition for me. It was a year that was in flux from almost the moment it started.
January was packing up my little South Philly apartment and preparing to move to West Philly. I quit my lights of liberty job, and prepared to teach SAT Prep to high schoolers.
February, moving day, adapting to life in West Philly, planning CY projects.
March - April saw me working on two of the largest project I'd ever undertaken: The library rennaissance and the college fair. It also had me frantically searching for jobs.
May - The library project finally ended, and I got my first job. My little brother graduated from college.
June- Was on TRL (looking bored apparently). Two years at CY ended. Ended my first real functional relationship.
July- Terrible month of working at a day care, and getting ready to move again. Had a couple decadent weekends with Danielle in there though where we met a man with sandwiches tatooed on his arms and took fishtown by storm.
August- Moved again this time deeper into West Philly, started working at Mariana Bracetti.
September- December- First year teacher life. Constantly in flux.
December - Got Latina eyed for the Jewish Girl (Elena and i went shopping and i learned that there are clothes that actually look good on me!). Got a PA State ID. Got a philadelphia cell phone number (after a jackass stole my old phone at a party).
With a year of changes behind me, I would like my life to regain some sense of calm. I want to spend this year figuring things out. Getting my act together. I want to be organized. I want the messiness of my life to sort itself out. These aren't new year's resolutions per se. They are mearly my hopes for the upcoming year, along with the hope that we (friends, family, myself) will all be healthy and happy.
Happy new year.
2006 was a year of transition for me. It was a year that was in flux from almost the moment it started.
January was packing up my little South Philly apartment and preparing to move to West Philly. I quit my lights of liberty job, and prepared to teach SAT Prep to high schoolers.
February, moving day, adapting to life in West Philly, planning CY projects.
March - April saw me working on two of the largest project I'd ever undertaken: The library rennaissance and the college fair. It also had me frantically searching for jobs.
May - The library project finally ended, and I got my first job. My little brother graduated from college.
June- Was on TRL (looking bored apparently). Two years at CY ended. Ended my first real functional relationship.
July- Terrible month of working at a day care, and getting ready to move again. Had a couple decadent weekends with Danielle in there though where we met a man with sandwiches tatooed on his arms and took fishtown by storm.
August- Moved again this time deeper into West Philly, started working at Mariana Bracetti.
September- December- First year teacher life. Constantly in flux.
December - Got Latina eyed for the Jewish Girl (Elena and i went shopping and i learned that there are clothes that actually look good on me!). Got a PA State ID. Got a philadelphia cell phone number (after a jackass stole my old phone at a party).
With a year of changes behind me, I would like my life to regain some sense of calm. I want to spend this year figuring things out. Getting my act together. I want to be organized. I want the messiness of my life to sort itself out. These aren't new year's resolutions per se. They are mearly my hopes for the upcoming year, along with the hope that we (friends, family, myself) will all be healthy and happy.
Happy new year.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)