10/20/14, a Monday
Therapy is hard.
I need more money than I have.
10/20/14, a Monday
Therapy is hard.
I need more money than I have.
10/11/14, a Saturday
Tonight was my 10-year high school reunion. I didn’t go. Maybe I would have gone if I didn’t live 3000 miles away from where I went to high school, or if Facebook wasn’t a thing.
I feel like spending an awkward, drunk evening with a bunch of people with whom I have nothing in common except for a shared set of intersecting experiences built off of now-arbitrary factors like birthdates and geographical locations during a time in our lives when we had little say in how these factors could impact our lives sounds, well, irrelevant. I have done an improvable but passable job keeping in touch with the handful I shared more meaningful experiences with, and have done an A+ job finding & lurking the rest of the people I only think about when I am trying to remember the name of someone else. The sensational aspect of “catching up” & “reconnecting” at a reunion has kind of been taken away from folks my age. I think it is different for those who graduated a few years before I did. And I’m okay with it, I think, except I always had Romy and Michele fantasies about the event. But the truth is that my time in high school doesn’t represent a monumental time in my life, and my life now doesn’t require any validation I might receive from people who “knew me then” and are “seeing me now.” Those who might wonder about me can do what I do when I wonder about them: look me up on Facebook and realize that they don’t give a shit what I’m doing now.
I mean, don’t get me wrong, if the reunion was happening during a time I might be back East anyway (say, Thanksgiving), I would go and probably have a weird but mostly good time. I was cool then and I’m cool now. You didn’t know anything about me then and you don’t know anything about me now. We didn’t sleep together then and we won’t sleep together now.
I guess what I’m saying is that it’s real easy for me to not be there. I think the very nature of organizing such an event using the best tools for the job (Facebook, classmates.com, online invitation lists, etc) defeats the purpose of having it; the “reconnecting” has already been facilitated, and now the “catching up” can happen in one-sided and self-directed ways. Chances are that we’ll learn more from creeping on each other online than we would spending a few hours sitting in a loud room at the same time.
10/09/14, a Thursday
Dogbreth* is in the studio today recording some new songs! It sounds like we might only get the drums done today, which means I’ll have plenty of time to get work done** in the lounge***.
*Tristan and I are the only ones who could make it today.
**feel stressed out and anxious about all the lesson planning I don’t know how to do.
***the couch by the soundboard.
10/08/14, a Wednesday
Got outta class early, light rail’d to the arena for a pre-season Suns game, unpacked an ancient photo trunk, started turning my room into 14-year-old-me’s idea of what my room would look like in my 20s. It feels good to settle in in a non-committal way; hanging up stuff even though I’m planning on moving out of the state in a year. This house is open & holds our junk well. I’ve been sleeping better, and eating sandwiches at home. Meanwhile my car is in the shop for an $1800 clutch job & I still have to prep for two months of lessons but for right now I feel good.
If you’re not following pancakeartist on Instagram then I’m sorry.
10/07/14, a Tuesday
Supposedly spending the day working on teacher stuff. I have four manila folders crammed with essays and worksheets and a grade deadline next week. Lesson planning my last quarter (there, I said it) with a checklist that counts down the number of class days left to teach (20,-1 for driving Whit to LA, -1 for presenting at the conference, -2-3 of bs pre-holiday days, = ~15 total). It’s not the students, it’s not (really) the administration, it’s me and this illness and this awful state in which formalized education is situated. Also accepting a part-time position to teach a full subject to two grades with no (zero, zip) curriculum guides, current textbooks, or even an existing scope-and-sequence was maybe a little bit of an unreasonable expectation to put on myself. This is why I avoid answering your questions that sound like “Soooo, hoooow’s teeeeeaaching?!” The short answer is it sucks and it’s fundamentally counter-productive to encouraging realistic and relevant skills in students.
I didn’t come on here to moan about this. My car just got towed to the shop again, I came on here to moan about that.
10/01/14, a Wednesday
Tonight we played a show with Joyce Manor at Yucca. I bought some killer tapes from Double Nickels.
I was asked to attend an unexpected and short-notice meeting with (school where I teach)’s director tomorrow. Oh, hey anxiety-induced nausea.
Though we’re all moved out of our old house, we haven’t really started moving into our new one. The stove works though, what a dream!
09/29/14, a Monday
This is an update about how we’re spending our first night in our new house.
I’m so tired. I woke up early to write a paper & to move the big stuff with a borrowed truck. Dropped off the truck, got a ride from Mom, & made it to my 4:30 class but could barely hold it together. Felt like people kept looking to me to respond but I kept missing the toss.
Now I’m in bed, we’re low to the ground again & that feels nice. There are ceiling fans & spaces for all the shit we accumulate & hold onto. The power’s on but the water doesn’t start until tomorrow. We bought a gallon of water & filled our bedside cups. I’ll brush my teeth with it outside.
I’m teaching tomorrow, I don’t feel good about it, but I guess I never do. I’m anxious that I’m especially unprepared because I’ve been extra swamped with moving, school, conference preparation, band stuff, etc, this past week. I’m trying to recall memories of middle school, and if I ever knew/cared when my teachers were just squeaking by. I feel like all I talk about when I’m not in my classroom is how to transform/dismantle the systems & structures that I actively perpetuate/reproduce when I’m in the classroom. It’s a complex & shitty space to be.
But maybe all I want right now is some pasta & a free night. Maybe it’s not so hard. On Friday I related my life’s events from May til now to my academic advisor and she looked at me & said “My god, you haven’t had time to breathe.” But I have been, I’m here now, I’m tired & sore & sad but I’m here & I’m trying & I’m grateful & I’m hopeful. I’ve got a small room and a small dog, and a desk & some of the best coffee cups I’ve ever seen. I share these things with a person who picks me up from class & helps me put it all away. I’ve got King of the Hill on DVD & a 6:30 alarm. I’m doing okay.