Quick post.
Still not the post I want to write, but sorta funny none the less. I just got a call from a deep voiced, older sounding gentleman from the Multnomah County Department of Marriage Licensing.
Apparently in the hubbub and haste of Saturday night, someone forgot to fill in some necessary information, I think it was me. I meant to check on an address that I didn't know off the top of my head...the name and official address of the religious organization who made their wedding legit.
Seriously? I'm supposed to know this off the top of my head. I filled out a an online form almost 10 years ago to marry two of my friends and that was the last I thought about it. In the 5 weddings I have performed this is the only one who called to verify ANY information. Which in and of itself is funny. Portland is a stickler for the right information, really? But, the man on the phone was nice and seemed neither amused or annoyed at me so it was okay. He even knew the correct address off the top of his head.
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Sunday, June 26, 2011
A disappointing ending
Okay, what I really wanted to write a post about today was my dear friend's wedding yesterday. Beautiful and perfect, but I just finished the last 30 pages of a book I have been SAVORING and am so annoyed that I'm posting about it. I'll save the good post for tomorrow.
I've been reading "In the Woods" for a few weeks and was totally hooked. I liked the narration, and the twinned stories. It's about a guy who is a murder detective outside of Dublin. When he was 12 years old he was playing in the woods with his two friends and they disappeared and he was found with bloody shoes and no memory of what had happened. Flash forward 20 years and he finds himself working a murder of a young girl in the same woods.
Here's my issue, and I'm sure in some way it just proves I'm an immature reader, or something, but I need resolution at the end of books. I get that life doesn't always have resolution and that there are always things that don't work out, but it bugs the shit out of me when I don't get resolution from a book or movie. Something needs to come together. It doesn't have to come together neatly, but I want more. In some ways I feel the author has totally copped out. That he or she can't figure out how to end it with the same level of intensity or humor or intrigue or whatever as he or she has written the whole book and therefor just quits before the story is actually told.
Of course this is most bothersome when these are books I actually LIKE. For example, Christopher Moore. His endings suck. I loved the book Lamb. Loved it, like laughed out loud on an airplane, loved it. And then the ending just fell flat (literally for those of you who have read the book). That's how I felt about this book....so much build up and then nothing....so annoyed.
I've been reading "In the Woods" for a few weeks and was totally hooked. I liked the narration, and the twinned stories. It's about a guy who is a murder detective outside of Dublin. When he was 12 years old he was playing in the woods with his two friends and they disappeared and he was found with bloody shoes and no memory of what had happened. Flash forward 20 years and he finds himself working a murder of a young girl in the same woods.
Here's my issue, and I'm sure in some way it just proves I'm an immature reader, or something, but I need resolution at the end of books. I get that life doesn't always have resolution and that there are always things that don't work out, but it bugs the shit out of me when I don't get resolution from a book or movie. Something needs to come together. It doesn't have to come together neatly, but I want more. In some ways I feel the author has totally copped out. That he or she can't figure out how to end it with the same level of intensity or humor or intrigue or whatever as he or she has written the whole book and therefor just quits before the story is actually told.
Of course this is most bothersome when these are books I actually LIKE. For example, Christopher Moore. His endings suck. I loved the book Lamb. Loved it, like laughed out loud on an airplane, loved it. And then the ending just fell flat (literally for those of you who have read the book). That's how I felt about this book....so much build up and then nothing....so annoyed.
Saturday, June 18, 2011
Blogging
I've been a journal-er for as long as I can remember. My oldest attempts at journal-ing chronicle both my childish thoughts, which is okay because I WAS a child, as well as my horrible handwriting. Hopefully, my thoughts have matured and most of the time my students can read my scrawling on the board, so apparently I'm making progress. I don't journal as much as I would like and I actually blog more than I journal. This is strange to me. Blogging has not replaced the intimacy of a pen and paper journal, but it is a different sort of pleasure. It is more of a public attempt at organizing my thoughts.
What is especially funny about this is that in my head blogging is community minded. Not that I think these words have a huge audience, but I know that there are a few people who read my blog on a fairly consistent basis. This would be strange to me if it weren't for two things, one, I like that they are reading and hope they continue and two I also read their blogs. As I think I've mentioned before I am in a year long blogging contest with one of these readers and recently realized that one of my best-est friends is also blogging with some regularity.
Her blog is baby centered and filled with pictures of complete cuteness. Her writing is even more telling about what's going on. She and I have had conversations about the unexpected pleasure of this form of writing and a silly habit of composing blogs in our heads. Part of what I enjoy is the thought process involved with writing. Thinking about what to write, how to say it and whether it will get the point across. In college I was a communications and English double major (laugh all you want) and so essentially I spent 4 years writing papers, some of which I really enjoyed. As an adult there are very few opportunities to think about writing...
(well, that's not exactly true. I teach writing, so I think about it fairly consistently, but it is a formula driven coping skill that I try to teach my writing leery students. They are not, generally, the type to enjoy the process or even the outcome, an exception to that is poetry but that's the stuff of another blog)
These posts are self indulgent, intellectual fun and it still surprises me how much I like the process and the sharing out. Most importantly, it forces me to slow down and deliberately think about what I am thinking. Intentionality is important, another friend and I have had long conversations about meditation (something I do not do) but the effect (I would imagine) is similar. It is about mindfulness. In order to write I must slow down enough to examine a situation or my own thoughts about it. And though I do not get the opportunity near as often as I like, that is why I'm writing this blog.
post script: I had completed half of this post, saved it for later, then checked the post of my best-est. Her most recent post was about blogging. I didn't read it, wanting to complete my thoughts before I read hers. So I finished mine then read hers; she also referenced our conversation, which took place last weekend, about composing blog posts in her head. Reading her comments made me nod and not surprisingly, made me even more determined to keep up with this self indulgent game.
What is especially funny about this is that in my head blogging is community minded. Not that I think these words have a huge audience, but I know that there are a few people who read my blog on a fairly consistent basis. This would be strange to me if it weren't for two things, one, I like that they are reading and hope they continue and two I also read their blogs. As I think I've mentioned before I am in a year long blogging contest with one of these readers and recently realized that one of my best-est friends is also blogging with some regularity.
Her blog is baby centered and filled with pictures of complete cuteness. Her writing is even more telling about what's going on. She and I have had conversations about the unexpected pleasure of this form of writing and a silly habit of composing blogs in our heads. Part of what I enjoy is the thought process involved with writing. Thinking about what to write, how to say it and whether it will get the point across. In college I was a communications and English double major (laugh all you want) and so essentially I spent 4 years writing papers, some of which I really enjoyed. As an adult there are very few opportunities to think about writing...
(well, that's not exactly true. I teach writing, so I think about it fairly consistently, but it is a formula driven coping skill that I try to teach my writing leery students. They are not, generally, the type to enjoy the process or even the outcome, an exception to that is poetry but that's the stuff of another blog)
These posts are self indulgent, intellectual fun and it still surprises me how much I like the process and the sharing out. Most importantly, it forces me to slow down and deliberately think about what I am thinking. Intentionality is important, another friend and I have had long conversations about meditation (something I do not do) but the effect (I would imagine) is similar. It is about mindfulness. In order to write I must slow down enough to examine a situation or my own thoughts about it. And though I do not get the opportunity near as often as I like, that is why I'm writing this blog.
post script: I had completed half of this post, saved it for later, then checked the post of my best-est. Her most recent post was about blogging. I didn't read it, wanting to complete my thoughts before I read hers. So I finished mine then read hers; she also referenced our conversation, which took place last weekend, about composing blog posts in her head. Reading her comments made me nod and not surprisingly, made me even more determined to keep up with this self indulgent game.
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Dying flower....soft as I feel right now
Soft, like red wine, a long year, and two days left.
Soft, like things I'm too tired to write right now.
Soft and open like my heart feels lately.
Soft and safe.
Sunday, June 5, 2011
June 5th
Here is the invitation I sent out as a group, though not quite mass, text: "If anyone is free I'm doing a mostly impromptu bbq tomorrow, 5/6ish. (But fair warning, my house will probably not be clean and my dog is annoying.)
I got mocked for the text, but my house filled up anyway. I didn't think that was going to be the case, but happily all the "Maybe I'll swing by" responses found my house and I kept pulling out lawn chairs.
There were five dogs and 12 beautiful people and food that made everyone smile. What had been clear hot day (the very first of the year) flowed into a clear lovely night. And what I appreciated the most was that the group was simply a gathering of people, all smart, funny and friendly and really that's all a group of people need to go on. Moving from space to space I could hear and take parts in snippets of conversation and simply enjoy these people who I so admire.
My brother organized bocce ball and blends easily into mixed and varied company. And my handsome friend manned the grill and had to put up with more than one person whispering, "Is that him?". Neither of which he had any qualms about. He and I spent the day shopping and working, playing and talking. This morning I am thinking about the question my mom asked several months ago, "Does he make your life easier?"
At the time the answer was no, but I wasn't expecting him to... upon this morning's consideration, I find that the answer is yes, having him with me yesterday made the day both easier and simply better. Lucky me! (But, how the hell did that happen?)
I got mocked for the text, but my house filled up anyway. I didn't think that was going to be the case, but happily all the "Maybe I'll swing by" responses found my house and I kept pulling out lawn chairs.
There were five dogs and 12 beautiful people and food that made everyone smile. What had been clear hot day (the very first of the year) flowed into a clear lovely night. And what I appreciated the most was that the group was simply a gathering of people, all smart, funny and friendly and really that's all a group of people need to go on. Moving from space to space I could hear and take parts in snippets of conversation and simply enjoy these people who I so admire.
My brother organized bocce ball and blends easily into mixed and varied company. And my handsome friend manned the grill and had to put up with more than one person whispering, "Is that him?". Neither of which he had any qualms about. He and I spent the day shopping and working, playing and talking. This morning I am thinking about the question my mom asked several months ago, "Does he make your life easier?"
At the time the answer was no, but I wasn't expecting him to... upon this morning's consideration, I find that the answer is yes, having him with me yesterday made the day both easier and simply better. Lucky me! (But, how the hell did that happen?)
Thursday, June 2, 2011
addendum
One kid just returned from the bathroom. He was followed by a very determined looking collegue of mine. She (all 102 lbs of her)marched in behind the student and said, "No, I'll just go ahead and take that."
Took his phone and without a word, walked out of the room.
Sometimes this place I work seems slightly like a military state. But, most of the time it's justified and most of the time I think it's funny.
Took his phone and without a word, walked out of the room.
Sometimes this place I work seems slightly like a military state. But, most of the time it's justified and most of the time I think it's funny.
State testing.
At this very moment, I am administering a state math test. I am sitting in a classroom that is not my own and babysitting 14 students, only one of whom I see on a daily basis. One is in the restroom, one is sleeping, two drawing, and three fidgeting. All of them wish they were able to text right now; hell, I wish I were able to text right now. All of us would rather be in class. I'm all about the occasional time suck in class. Using class times for games or jokes or conversation about silly things. But I HATE the waste of time that is standardized testing. These students will sit in here for another hour with literally nothing to do. All but one are finished.
It is also a strange activity from my point of view. I am in charge of kids whom I do not know. Being a teacher, and one who strives to build rapport with kids, I'm generally pretty good at managing these type of situations, but it's an odd sort of organization, as I try to remain friendly when most of what I must say to them is literally printed on a paper in front of me. I must read a script: verbatim. I am just as bored as they are. But, I am writing this blog and they are keeping the whispering to the barest minimum. They are better behaved than I.
"Do you have any food?" A kid who slept through the test just raised his hand to ask this question. There is one kid still testing. I wish I did have food for them, as nice as they are. Teenagers are silly, high school is silly. State testing is dumb.
It is also a strange activity from my point of view. I am in charge of kids whom I do not know. Being a teacher, and one who strives to build rapport with kids, I'm generally pretty good at managing these type of situations, but it's an odd sort of organization, as I try to remain friendly when most of what I must say to them is literally printed on a paper in front of me. I must read a script: verbatim. I am just as bored as they are. But, I am writing this blog and they are keeping the whispering to the barest minimum. They are better behaved than I.
"Do you have any food?" A kid who slept through the test just raised his hand to ask this question. There is one kid still testing. I wish I did have food for them, as nice as they are. Teenagers are silly, high school is silly. State testing is dumb.
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