If ever there was someone to keep me at home it would be you.

question

Will Condy McCain join the 'Dancing' cast?



God, I hope so.

I really do.

could've been

I received an invitation to my ex-boyfriend’s wedding last year and decided to bring an extremely good looking man to the reception as my guest. The only problem is, Mike knows me too well. “How much did you pay for this one?” he asked coyly. “He’s my live-in boyfriend. We’ve been dating for over a year,” I announced to the entire table. With eyebrows all around raised, several awkward seconds pass before I, of course, cave and share the truth because it’s something we would have laughed for hours about over coffee in the morning, in a different world. I motioned him inwards and whispered in his ear, “He came with a deep discount because of the prosthetic leg.” Mike recoiled, trying to suppress the mad giggle I know far too well. Looking over at my date, his eyes traveled downwards and then back to me. We locked eyes for a moment and both had to duck into ourselves, checking outright laughter. This is, after all, a formal occasion. Red-faced and still sputtering, he heads back to kiss the little Mrs. when the champagne glasses start ringing. I can’t help but notice that he glanced over his shoulder at me as he walked away.

thunk

It’s one of the saddest things I’ve ever seen. Right up there with my father carrying one sixth of the casket of his best friend’s daughter and cracking up crying when someone says “it’s not a very heavy load, at least” and old men sitting alone and expressionless on park benches.

It breaks my heart to see it, but I keep turning the porch light back on and going over to see it, the little broken neck turned grotesquely into the snow that fell just this morning. The streak-free shine of the transparent murder weapon, blocking out the winter chill. I heard the bang on the patio door earlier in the afternoon, when I was watching the birds pick seeds one at a time out of the feeder we hung from the silver maple out front. I said to no on in particular, “stupid bird just hit the window” and went over to investigate. The poor little thing was on the ground, writhing, twisting it’s brown striped and freckled wings without effect.

“Daddy!” I cried, as if I were six again. “Daddy! It’s suffering!” Silence responded from the other room like a punch in the mouth. “Daddy!” I tried again, “shouldn’t we do something?” Still, no response. Finally the little bird ceased to move anymore and lay still. “I think its dead.” I announce, still talking to without regard to who’s listening. “Maybe it’s just stunned,” my mom interjects, unhelpfully. “It might wake up and fly away.” Several hours later and it’s still there. The sad little twisted bones and the possibility of flight cut short by an invisible foe. The tail feathers erupt at an odd angle, suggesting catastrophe.

Every time I think about the thunk and the show of death it performed I feel a little more dead on the inside; like the sadness is washing over more of me with each thought. And yet I know I’m going to walk back over there once again before I climb under my covers, flick the switch back to the on position and look at that little bird one more time.

the edge

I've heard it said that you've got your whole life ahead of you. Though all of a sudden, the rest of the crew has surged forward to center stage and I'm left standing alone in the back, trying to remember which foot is supposed to move where and wondering whether its worth it to try to catch up, or if it would be better just to run off stage and console myself over a basket of greasy fries in the cafeteria.

Of course, there remains the question of whether or not its really worth smothering my face in cooking oil when the zits start popping up. All of a sudden, center stage seven beats behind doesn't seem like such a bad option after all.
On the other hand, there remains the problem of trying to do something I was never cut out for in the first place. Turns out that during rehearsals, my mind was on the fryalator the entire time.

However, I am worried that if I don't do something, I will spend my entire life wondering who it was that put the toliet paper roll on backwards before realizing the only person it could have been was myself, then analyzing the whys and whatfors of backwards toliet paper for the rest of a wonderful evening with only myself and my basket of pimples for company.

juncture

New Year's Resolution.

Write.

You say that I can. That it's a natural talent given to me by the one that created and creates and cares and destroys, but I don't utilize it like I should. You say that when my thoughts flow out into letters that create words seaming into rivers of sounds, patterns of expression and conclusions it means something to those around me, but I choose quiet introspection and a silent inner commentary of the lives around me over communication.

I've wished to be talented my entire life. I wanted to draw cartoons of the nasty teacher and make my classmates laugh, but my artisan apprenticeship fell short with a few lines and circles. I wanted to be an athlete, running like I was born to, dodging defenses with the ball dancing at my feet, but my stardom fell short with a few clumsy passes and zero points. I wanted to be in movies, on stage or spend time behind a microhpone, but my inclination towards enternainment fell short when I realized I'm not entertaining.

I've wished to be good, to be famous, to be accomplished at anything, but discounted my ability to compose passages that mean something to someone. Ignoring the one thing I can do without wondering if I'm good enough. Blocking out the one thing I can do without having to constantly second guess myself. Ignoring my ability to put feelings into words, onto paper and spread. I'm done wishing for something that isn't going to happen. I'm done wondering why I'm not good at anything that counts, when something I am good at is right in front of my nose. Writing counts. Writing is my talent. I can't change it or make it count for less or more. Writing is.

New Year's Resolution.

Write.

I am an eight year old boy.

Yes, I know I haven't updated about Colorado, but really; no one reads this blog anyway, so it doesn't really matter, now does it?

I promise that I'm in the process of making something cool for this blog about my trip, but all of a sudden, things got really busy and I haven't been able to finish it yet.

But I absolutely could not resist this. I was reading the news and came upon my new favorite person in the world:

"Schools Secretary Ed Balls told Sky News Mr Brown had taken "a risk" - but said it was the right decision.
He insisted the new business secretary was "devoted" to public service.
Mr Balls said: "Of course it's a risk, but at the same time, it's also a great opportunity for our country and our government."

Hee hee: Ed Balls. Mr. Balls.

payback in all its glory

Ernie knew what he was talking about.

On A Hill

She sits in a lonely field somewhere in upstate New York, the busy farm in the valley below suddenly quiet as the minute and hour hands meet together at the peak of the clock face. A solitary being seems to make sense.

With only the birds and the light breeze as distraction, suddenly the anxiety and business everday life brings melts away. Baking for a while in the sun to the satisfaction of the freckles whose existence sunshine births, she moves suddenly into the shade of the ancient maples lining the peimeter of the field. Surpsising, as she does, a rabbit and black bird out of their exclusive thicket.

She places her worn pack on the remains of a rock wall and takes a drink of sun-warmed water. Reluctantly taking note of the time, she shuffles through her pack, pulls out a book and settles down for a blissful two hours before being forced to re-enter the world of schedules and distraction.

Consolation Prize

As a consolation prize to myself for not finding a job and feeling a lot like a failure at life, I'm going to Colorado for a week and a little bit, most likely on September 18 until September 28 to visit my sister, Kelly.

I wasn't going to go, but every reason I could come up with in my head for not going seemed stupid when compared to every reason for going. When else will I have the opportunity to pack up for somewhere really awesome right at one of my favorite times of year? Exactly.

She works during the week, so I wanted to find someone to come with me, so that half the trip wouldn't be me sitting around, waiting for Kelly to get done. I asked a bunch of people and everyone was kind of lukewarmly interested, but Long Haired Jay said yes! I was kind of surprised because usually I come up with awesome plans, friends express interest and it fizzles out soon after.

We've got to buy plane tickets and I'm ordering a cheap-o tent online. My dad is lending us some camping gear and I am so, so, so excited to go take pretty pictures and be all outdoorsy and adventurous.

It's really nice to have something to look forward too again.

Defeat

Yesterday was Dan and Danielle's wedding. The ceremony happened in the cutest of all cute churches, out in the middle of nowehere in the Gunx and it was really nice. The reception was at the Thomas Bull Park, which, for some reason everyone calls the Orange County Park, even though it really isn't.

It was great fun hanging out with everyone: chatting, playing a coupla sports, eating and last (and least), ending the evening with a giant Nerf gun war.

We decided it wasn't time to end the party, though: and came back to my house and had a fire on the hill. It was a little too impromptu because we didn't actually have any food or anything, but somewhere along the line a few hotdogs and buns showed up along with chips. Sadly, it wasn't enough for some people at the party, who started eating raw corn out of the field. Did I mention they brought alcohol? No?

I was feeling like a Debby Downer at the party because when I got to the house, I picked up the mail and there was the "thanks for playing" letter from Seekonk High School. I found this one really tough to handle because it was the interview that I felt actually went well and it was a school I had a real desire to teach in.

I pick up the mail and I'm trying really hard not to cry, but I just couldn't stick it, so I went inside, smacked a few things around and really let it out. Then I washed the streaming mascara off of my face and went back out. I made it the whole night with only having to go off by myself and have a big cry...which is pretty good for me.

So it looks like I'll almost certainly be in New York for next year. It's not all bad, because I do really enjoy my friends and it would be much easier to keep hanging out with them, instead of having to come up with a bunch of new friends, but still: this isn't at all what I had in mind for myself after college. I feel pretty lost. I keep thinking to myself, "I just want to go home." But then I realize, I don't really know where that is anymore.

OMG! I (indirectly) know the Dalai Lama?

I just saw this article http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/25988549/?GT1=43001 that claims to confirm that game we all enjoy playing and in my case, enjoy being really bad at: Six Degrees to Kevin Bacon.

If you've no desire to read the article, it basically says that the game is true and that there are 6.6 degrees of separation between people linked through aquaintences.

However, the article continues on to pretty much discredit itself:

"The idea was taken up again, this time on a global scale, by Columbia University researchers in a 2003 report of an e-mail experiment. More than 24,163 volunteers agreed to try to send an e-mail through acquaintances to one of 18 target persons in 13 countries. Only 384 of those 24,163 letter chains were completed. Of those completed chains, the average number of steps was 4, and using statistical techniques, the researchers estimated that the average length in all of the chains was between five and seven steps. Still, it was an estimate."

Well if that isn't solid statistical data, then I don't know what is.

Besides, this six step theory cannot be true because there are people out in the world (like this tribe who haven't talked to someone from the outside in up to 60,000 years: http://www.survival-international.org/news/136 ) who don't have any outside contact outside their tribe. I can very safely guarentee you that I am not connected to any one of them in six or even six thousand steps.

Love your mother (earth).

The newest thing at Glen Arden is a sudden and intense need to recycle.

I've been working there for five years and have never once seen a recycling bin anywhere in the building. All of a sudden, starting this week, they are popping up everywhere! Recycling bins are nice and I am a large proponent of recycling, but what people don't realize is that when the housekeepers remove the liners of the bins, they and all of their contents go straight into the dumpster.

Recycling: It's the Thought That Counts!

Want

I find it really annoying when things that I think are cool suddenly become mainstream and all of a sudden, there are a bunch of people who want to be just like what they were making fun of before.

However, things I like going mainstream does make it a lot easier to get new things. No more shuffling through 3X nightshirts and Army-issue chemical protective pants (with what appears to be chemical spilling out of them) to find vintage tshirts!

Now I can just buy them online! (Rather, I could buy them online, if they didn't cost $25 each.)

Aren't they cool, though?

positives and negatives

It is now nearing the end of July and I have yet to land a teaching job for September. Considering the dimishing number of weeks between now and the start of school, the situation is not looking very good.

I've decided to come up with a list of the things that would be positive about living at home for a year. They are as follows:

1. I will be able to spend time with the friends I have gotten closer to this Summer.
2. I will be closer to my Grandparents.
3. My parents will charge minimal rent, allowing me to save almost as much money as I make (excepting car insurance, car payment and student loans).
4. I will be able to spend the year gaining classroom management experience substitute teaching.
5. My experience will move me up the pay scale for when I do find a job.

However, with the creation of this list, comes the counter list. That is, things that are negative about living at home for a year:

1. Glen Arden is stifling and working there every day for a year will damage my psyche.
2. Not having a full time job means no health insurance.
3. Even with working two jobs, I will be making about 1/3 of the money of most entry level teaching jobs.
4. I worry that my ever-increasingly good relationship with my parents will falter if I live at home for a long time.
5. I will feel like a failure.
6. My lack of upwards movement may create a serious rift between myself and my more successful friends from college.
7. I will lose whatever self-confidence I managed to gain over the last four years.
8. Boomerang children are portrayed in society as couch potato nothings who waste their education and have no aspirations.

community

I found this amazing website last night. It's the site of a company that makes tiny houses. When they say tiny, they mean it too! The smallest (the xs house) is only 65 square feet!

At first the whole thing seemed quite ridiculous to me, but then I got to thinking and realized how much simpler life would be if you only had the stuff that you absolutely needed to go through your days and didn't have to worry so much about always expanding upwards and outwards. In the confines of a tiny house, you would be forced to be ordlery and organized as well as clutter-free. In the light of my incredibly messy room and my boxes of belongings that are spread over two separate rooms, it seems like a really great lifestyle.

But then, I got to thinking that it would get tiresome after a while because if you wanted to have friends over for dinner or celebrate an occassion, it would be difficult to manage, which is when I came up with the grand plan.

You get a big group of people together and buy a good chunk o' land somewhere outside town. You build a clubhouse type deal with internet access, a huge TV, a bunch of comfy couches and bean bag chairs and other entertainmenty stuff and spread your tiny houses out on the property. That way, when you want to be around a bunch of people, you can, but then at the end of the night, you get to go to your eighty square feet or whatever that is yours and yours only. And of course, the group would have a giant garden to grow delicious-type produce. And maybe a couple chickens. And absolutely, a big floppy, friendly dog that could sleep in a differnt tiny house each night of the week. Plus, the land could be somewhere totally awesome, like right at the base of the Tetons or even up on the ridge in the Gunx.

How fun would that be?

Computer

My dad put some work into my computer, adding a new harddrive and fixing my broken cover. It runs amazingly and I no longer have to prop the screen up on something to see what's going on as I type. It's truly amazing.
One of the best parts is now that I have a giant hard drive, I can finally empty my memory card (I've got stuff on there from Christmas!) I've been working on it for a little while now and came across these really cool pictures of the moon that I took a while back at night, right on my back porch.
I thought this one was definitely post-worthy:

Salve Regina and the quest for everlasting financial security

For some reason I have had songs from Sister Act running through my head all day. I do not know what brough on this strange brain obsession, but rest assured, once I figure out the cause, I will avoid it at all costs. Even it's something really great like apple juice or hitting snooze one too many times.

I finally got a job interview today! It's way over in Fall River, Massachusetts. It's right near Rhode Island, which is kind of exciting because I've always wanted to live close to the ocean. It's about a four hour drive from New York, across Conneticut down by the coast. I'm so excited it's like I've been offered the job already and it's just an interview. I guess when you're as stressed out over the prospect of being employed at just over minimum wage in a place where your four year degree would be better put to use wiping the sweat off your brow, even the first step towards a real job is enough to lift your spirits!

the almighty map

I used Googlemaps and paint to make a visual representation of my job search. The job I applied for in Hartford is not on the map because it did not fit. It should be fairly obvious that the reds have said no and the greens have not.