CIRCLE OF LIFE

This afternoon I went back to my Alma Mater to hear a senior recital. The featured artist was Christian - the "little brother" of my high school friend, Sandra. I met Chris when he was a pain-in-the-ass, eight year-old brat. When I was in college and Chris was in high school, I used to give him trumpet lessons. Who would have ever thought he'd also go on to become a trumpet-playing, Music Ed. major?

Christian is somewhere in his twenties now. On top of going to school, he works 40 hours a week to support his wife, two year-old son, and second baby that looks as if its about to be born any day now. I can't even fathom that lifestyle, but I certainly hold him in the highest respect for working as hard as he does. He's a good man.

He played an excellent recital - lots of challenging pieces. I don't know when he finds the time to practice, but his tone and endurance were great. I remember back in college - and especially grad school - when I would spend four or five hours a day in a practice room. It seems like it was a different lifetime ago.

Christian studies trumpet with the same professor I did, and I saw him today for the first time in many years. I had an unbelievable crush on "Dr. C" and, in my senior year, learned the crush was mutual. We attempted an awkward relationship for a couple months but nothing significant transpired. It wasn't the real deal -- just two lonely hearts in two very different places in life.

The music building at my old college looked exactly as it had when I was a student ten years ago. Dr. C is still there helping to make music teachers. Christian will graduate and soon find himself standing in front of hundreds of kids, sharing the music... inspiring the future teachers.

And ten years from now, he might very well find himself drinking wine and blogging about the recital he'd just heard.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, PUDGE!

Saturday we went to my brother's house for my nephew's first birthday party.

There were cute little kids milling about in the sunshine, eating cupcakes and playing with scooters, sandboxes and teeter-totters. If the maternal instincts were ever going to kick in, it would have been then.

Needless to say, they didn't. But as you can tell, there's not much I wouldn't do for this particular kid and his brother.

NEW APPROACH

There's a whole lot of turmoil going on in my school building because "The Administration" is moving everyone around to new teaching assignments. The changes wouldn't affect me even if I were staying because, let's face it, no one else would be stupid enough to want to teach the Band. But everyone else is up in arms and lots of tears are being shed. It really kind of blows.

Yesterday, I thought I might try a new approach to my last two months here. Rather than allowing it to continue sucking the life out of me, I decided to just let everything bounce off. I went up and spent time mingling with some of the disgruntled teachers and made it my job to say all the things that they were thinking but - as people concerned about their future employment - afraid to say. It was a good day. It added a bit of levity to a really negative situation.

Last night, HE and I were watching a couple travel programs that TiVo had recorded.

[Sidenote: I love TiVo so much more than I ever would have imagined... especially now that TiVo knows what I like to watch and goes out of his way to tape it for me. I love you, TiVo.]

The first one we watched was GlobeTrekker: California. God, I want to go to California. Not so much the southern part as the north. I wanna go to Big Sur and up to see the giant redwoods. I wanna hang out in Garberville and smoke some weed with the hippies. Most of all, I want NOT to be confined to a boring routine, paying out the ass to live in crappy New Jersey for the rest of my life.

I don't have the big dreams of a fancy wedding, white-picket fence or brood of children. I've never been a big fan of "stuff" -- as a matter of fact, I am probably one of the few women alive who detests shopping. I want to come up with a way to make a living while being able to travel around the world. I want to live simply and authentically. I want to live free.

Is that weird?

WHAT DO I HAVE TO LOSE?

Kate's right (thanks, Kate) - what DO I have to lose? I guess I feel bad about being so NOT into school. I really just have to get through the next nine weeks and then I'm home free. But patience is not a virtue that I possess.

You know those people who PUSH right up to the very end? The people who see the finish line and kick up their speed, balls to the wall? That's not me - I fizzle out. I don't know why it is. I'm just having a really hard time staying motivated to be here. When I wake up in the morning and think about the classes that I have to face each day, I get this sinking thud in my stomach. It's just a bad way to be.

In other news, our governor is on his deathbed. On his way to a Don Imus assembly, the SUV he was riding in was involved in an accident. Guvna was travelling 91 MPH and he was not wearing a seatbelt. I have nothing else to say about that.

Parts of our state are still underwater from the weekend's nor'easter. Driving to work the past few days, I see confused but happy ducks swimming in parking lots. "Global warming is a hoax!" -- Um no, not really.

I don't really want to talk about the Virginia Tech thing because I don't really know what to say.

And Sanjaya is gone.

With all that crappiness in the rest of the world, I suppose I should shut the f**k up and appreciate just how easy my simple little life actually is.

WHAT'S GOING ON...

Alright. So now that it's 99.9% official, I guess I can declare: I will not be a public school music teacher next year. My proposal for a leave of absence has been approved and, for the first time in eight years, I will have a new job.

A 12-month/year job. A job that doesn't require spending 6 daily 42-minute periods trying to corral a group of prepubescent middle schoolers. A job I don't have to be at by 6:45 AM every day - a ridiculous hour that my body has never been able to accept. A job where I can go to the bathroom when I want to, instead of waiting until the 10:17 bell rings.

I am taking a position as "Director of Education" at a retail music store. I'll be in charge of managing and increasing their lesson studio; organizing professional development workshops for public school teachers; and developing new community music programs for kids and adults of all ages. It's a position that has never before existed. But the owners of the store bought a new 16,000 sq. ft. facility last year and it is absolutely AMAZING.

And I am so ready for a change.

But at the same time, I am scared to death on so many levels.

I'm lucky that the Board of Ed. has approved my leave. That way if things don't work out, my current job will still be there in a year. But I so desperately want for things to work out. If they don't, I cannot imagine having to return to the same ol' rut and routine. I guess I am most scared of that. I want so badly for the new job to be all that I dream it will - and I just don't want to be disappointed.

So for the past few weeks I have been feeling as if I'm in limbo - counting down the days until my life changes. And I have felt numb and angry and tired and sad. I've been seeing a really cool therapist who is great to talk to. Every week as I'm driving there I think, "What will I say to him today?" And every week without fail, I develop verbal diarrhea as soon as I sit down in his office. And it feels so good to just unload.

That's where I am. And why I think I need to blog more. It feels good to vent - clears the mind a little when I have to actually write out all that I am feeling.

I feel better already.

NUMB.

I need to blog more.

Except that right now I feel like my world - as I know it - is about to collapse.

But not for another two months.

So in the meanwhile, my brain is spinning out of control with all the things I should be doing.

And at the same time, I am paralyzed into numbness and I end up doing nothing.

I really need to blog more.

CREEEEEPY....

My friend PMcQ visited Savannah, GA over spring break and went on a haunted pub crawl. She got lots of photos with orbs in them, the best being this one:



I zoomed in on one of the brightest and swear to God I see an image in it:



If there's anyone out there who's actually reading this, click on the image to enlarge it and tell me what, if anything, you see. I wanna know if I am indeed crazy.

HAPPY EASTER!

FREEDOM OF RELIGION

Last night I played at a Palm Sunday 'concert' as part of a pretty good-sized orchestra. It was at one of those mega-churches, with three large screens surrounding the alter. While the choir sang and the instruments played (complete with nauseating 8th-note rock beat on the drumset) the lyrics were projected on the three screens so the congregation could sing along.

The minister of the church was a young guy with blindingly white teeth, perfect hair and three perfect children. His perfect wife was one of the soloists in the choir. He got up in the beginning of the service to say a prayer and to introduce the music director.

The musical work itself was titled "Jesus: No Other King" and was an arrangement of about eight songs - all related to, as you may have guessed, Jesus. Mainly about how we as human beings just flat out suck. How we should all get down on our knees and PRAISE JESUS every single day, and know we're not worthy and Jesus is THE WAY. There was also a lot of stuff about Jesus' blood.

I don't know. Church. Dogma. It all just makes my fur bristle. It seems so paradoxical to what "spirituality" feels like to me. Okay, so Jesus is the Son of God... but aren't we ALL God's children? Is God really this big, pissed-off man in the clouds, sitting up there smiting the sinners? That doesn't make sense. It didn't make sense when I was a kid in Sunday School and then Confirmation class. And it doesn't make sense now.

I looked out into the congregation and watched the people sing along - wondering if they questioned what it was they were saying. I wondered if anyone was as confused as I was. Then I just decided to sit back and play my trumpet the best that I could, happy to be a part of a peaceful group of people. Happy that I'd be receiving a check at the end of the evening that I could put towards costs of living the life with which I have been blessed.

And I realized it doesn't matter what anyone else believes.

FUCK YEAH!

Today I ran the More 1/2 Marathon through Central Park. I had kinda been on the fence about doing it for the past few weeks. As I'd mentioned, the chicken pox debacle put a real damper on my training which, in turn, smooshed my motivation and confidence. I've been running fairly regularly, though just between 3-5 miles a few days a week. My longest 'long run' has been about 6 miles... and that was like 3 weeks ago.

Yesterday I went out and ran 4. The sun was shining and I felt great, so last night I'd decided to give it a go. We all met up around 6:15 this morning. There were 7 of us going in - 5 who planned on walking, the other girl, Allison, had trained to run. It was a cold morning but I felt really good.

We got into the city & parked no problem. I headed up to the start with Allison and decided I'd just see how long I could run before I had to walk. And wouldn't you know it? I ran all 13.1 miles! And I felt fucking great! I think I attribute it to mindset: for the first time, I wasn't concerned about my time and didn't psyche myself out. I just rode my feet and took in the amazing energy all around me.

I high-fived kids on the curb and admired the tall buildings. I smiled for cameras and sang along - out loud - with my iPod. I had the best race of my life! And here's the kicker... I ended up doing it in 2:04:18*. Huh!



The people I went with were so much fun. Four of the walking ladies were 'race virgins' and they had a really great time. One got shit on by a pigeon, and one was bitch-slapped by a hostile stranger while on line at Starbucks. It was just a really great day and it reaffirmed my love for running. It's an incredible activity - like nothing in the world - and I consider myself very lucky to be healthy and able enough to do it. And I shall run until I can no longer do so.

* UPDATED CHIP TIME AND NEW P.R. -- WOO HOO!!!

TURTLE UPDATE

Lots of exciting things are transpiring in my life these days. I've been hesitant to talk about the career end for two reasons: A) I don't want to write anything that could get back to anyone in a position of authority and harm any potential prospects; and B) I am far more superstitious than I care to admit and do not want to jinx anything.

But before we discuss such petty things as my future well-being, let us touch on something vastly more important... tonight's American Idol results.

Okay, I understand the whole San-gina thing now. Apparently I was onto something with the stoner college kids, and it seems as though they have an organization. Not only that, but I hear Howard Stern has his army of listeners backing San-gina too.

Actually, there's something intriguing about watching this kid every week. It's like watching a car accident or something - hideous enough to make you squirm and yet -- you just HAVE TO watch.

So I like Jordin Sparks a lot because she's young and fresh. For a 17 year-old kid, she is absolutely amazing. LaKisha is an amazing singer too, but I don't really "like" her all that much. But my #1 vote for this season goes to Melinda Doolittle. I love her. That's all.

Alright so I've applied for a leave of absence from my job for next year. My Principal approved it, as did the Superintendent. Next, my proposal goes to the Board of Ed. and they make the final call. I hope it's approved. I really feel like I need a change after 8 years, but it would feel really good to know that I had that safety net. Keep your fingers (and toes) crossed for me - more when I know more.

I did my first 5K of the year last Sunday. Actually, it was my first "official" race since the marathon back in October. I did okay for the first one out - 26:55. Not great, but not too bad. I haven't been very rigid in my running these days.

I am planning to do the More 1/2 marathon in NYC on Sunday and had been training pretty good for it up until I got the chicken pox. I figured I wouldn't push my body as it tried to recover so I lost a lot of long runs, along with the desire. So I'll go in on Sunday and do the best I can - even if it means walking a bit. As it is, two of the three other people I'm going with are injured so we may be crawling along together. It's all good.

The thing of it is, I've proven that I can train for and complete 26.2 miles! I kind of feel like I have a different approach to running now. It's as if I used to be a little intimidated by it -- was never quite brave enough to call myself "a runner." Now I can say it and I do so with pride. These days when I run, I have a confidence - I felt it for the first time at the starting line on Sunday. It was Excitement instead of Anxiety.

So yeah, that's what's been going on. Like sand through the hourglass...

FUTURE HEART-BREAKER

LUCK O' THE NON-IRISH

Oh hell YES today was indeed a snow day! As we speak, I am preparing a festive offering of 40-spice hummus and grapefruits for the Snow Gods. All hail the Snow Gods!

Last night I went to a tricky tray with some of my work friends. For those of you unfamiliar with what a "tricky tray" is, it's a fundraiser event where people and businesses donate baskets or certificates, and people buy tickets and put them in for the baskets they want. Then someone pulls numbers and whoever's ticket is pulled wins the prize. I guess it's like a Chinese auction? Maybe it's the newer, more PC term.

We've gone to this particular tricky tray for the past five years. It is a fundraiser for the Catholic school that PMcQ's daughter used to attend before she moved her into public school. It's a HUGE event held at a banquet hall and, for $40, you get a full 4-course, sit-down dinner and a sheet of white tickets.



There are five different colored tickets - each color representing a different value of prize. The white-ticket prizes are fairly crappy and overabundant. I think they range from like $25 and under. Next is pink which may go from $25-$50; blue is like $50-$100; red - $100-$500; and then the green-ticket items are worth $500 and up. Prices of colored tickets also vary accordingly.

In addition to my sheet of twenty crappy, white tickets, I also bought ten pink tickets, five blue and two red. The room with the prize baskets was jam-packed with big-haired Italian women all fighting to have a look at the items. Proper tricky tray etiquette requires one to crawl along, perusing the tables and dropping in your tickets. Like at IKEA, everyone is supposed to move in the same direction. Violators are prosecuted with dirty looks.

It was about 150 degrees in there and I lasted all of twelve seconds before I started moving in the opposite direction, reaching in between scowling mounds of Aqua Net to choose my baskets. I didn't even know where I tossed them, just that I wanted to be done so I could find my table and have a glass of wine.

On my way towards the door I realized I had a $10 bill left in my pocket and the green-ticket lady was right there. I figured, "What the hell?" and bought one. I scanned the big-ticket items, made a choice and headed to the bar.

They began pulling tickets and serving dinner at 7:00. As usual, we were a rowdy table and drew lots of angry glares from those around us. They called about 200 white-tickets and 150 pink. Three hours later they got through the blue and red. PMcQ somehow managed to win five times - out of the 500+ people in attendance. She has ridiculous luck. No one else at our table won and we were all getting a little cranky.

They called the ten red-ticket prizes and then got to the five greens. Someone won a flat-screen TV. Someone one a full-length leather coat. Someone won a 4-day pass to Disney. And then they called the final grand prize: an overnight luxury cruise for two around the New York harbor. And then they called MY NUMBER!

All in all, it was a fine evening. And then I got to sleep late today and lay around watching the snow pile up. And I realize that being me isn't such a bad deal after all.

PLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEASE

Pleaseohpleaseohpleeeeease let there be enough snow that school is cancelled tomorrow.

I'll be extra-good for the rest of eternity.
I'll floss twice a day.
I'll stop using the F-word in every sentence.
I'll eat all my peas and I'll go to church.

Please.

WTF?!

How is "San-gina" still on this show?? I can only assume that he is the Kevin Covais of season six.

Somewhere in America, a group of college kids is probably sitting around smoking weed, eating Cheetos and text-messaging votes for the worst possible candidate. To you stoners I say: STOP IT! Go steal some furniture from the dorm lobby or pull some fire alarms.

Speaking of fires...

The other night I was at HIS apartment making some dinner. Somehow I managed to set fire to a veggie buffalo wing in HIS microwave.

I've reached an all-time culinary low. I hope HE's not rethinking the whole engagement thing.

AMONGST THE LIVING

I finally returned to work Monday after being away for two weeks. As you'll recall, chicken pox kept me at bay for the first week and then we had last week off for mid-winter recess. It felt like eons since I'd been at school and the anxiety I felt Sunday night was nearly crippling.

I know I've mentioned my Dad in previous posts, though I have not really elaborated much. While I grew up in what was 'physically' a two-parent household, my father was never really 'there.' He suffered from severe manic depression. Saying he was World's Greatest Dad would be a stretch.

On March 9, it will have been five years since he's passed away. He died without warning on a Saturday morning from congestive heart failure. I was living with "CCC" (Crazy Canadian Chick) at the time, and was up early getting ready to go to Junior Region Jazz Band auditions when my brother called me.

By the time I got to the hospital, my Dad was already dead. My Mom and brother were there, as was the pastor from my Mom's church. It was all so very surreal.

When I was a kid, I truly HATED my father. I hated not knowing who he would be on a given day. I hated that he never came to any of my events or took an interest in his kids' lives. I hated that he'd go away to hospitals for months at a time. Most of all, I hated him for making my Mom so unhappy.

As I got older and learned about mental illness, I stopped hating my Dad. I tried to be more patient and had learned to lower my expectations (i.e. we'd never be the Seavers) But what started scaring me as an adult was the possibility of becoming just like my father. Mental illness runs in families. And the summer between graduating college and going off to grad school, I had my first taste of mental collapse.

Looking back, I realize it was a pretty normal reaction to my situation. I was leaving the comfort of a life I had come to love; leaving behind friends and family and moving 300 miles away to a school that I felt I had no business attending. During that entire summer I felt numb to life. Since that experience, I've never been the same. I think once you go through a big depression, you never quite recover.

I guess now I am hypersensitive to my emotions... like I'm just waiting to become my father. The textbooks say that it would have hit me by now (Dad was 18) but I am still afraid. And when I had the irrational anxiety about returning to work this week, it all came bubbling back up.

As it turned out, the week was one of my best this year. By Tuesday morning I was back in the swing of things and it was as if I had never been gone.

I still think it would be a good idea to find someone to talk to so I've kind of been thinking about therapy. I think I have some stuff to clear out of my head. How great will it be to have a captive audience? Someone sitting there listening to me talking about my favorite subject [ME] for an hour?

WEEEIRD

"American Idol, Season 6" is in full swing and HE and I love to sit on our Throne of Judgement (aka: HIS couch) and point out all the contestants' faults. HE gets props for this one...

PEACE

Today it was nearly 50 degrees and sunny - an absolute gift - and "my mountain" called.



It's not really MY mountain, but it's a place I have been going for almost twenty years. The first time was on a hike with my church youth group back when I was in middle school, and before I became a heathen. I've been going back ever since, my favorite part of the park being this beautiful overlook.

This is my church. This is where I feel connected to the Earth and to "God." I close my eyes and feel the sun on my face. The breeze blows through my hair and rustles the leaves. The world is silent except for the wind and the calling birds. Today I heard my beloved mourning dove sing its first notes since September. An old friend, it warmed my heart.



When I am on my mountain, I could be anywhere in the world. Trees, rocks and sky. Time ceases to exist and trivial things no longer matter. On my mountain, I am content. I am whole.

IT'S DEFINITELY THE LITTLE THINGS



I won my very first eBay auction yesterday. I can't wait until it comes!!

Today I'm wearing jeans AND deodorant for the first time in nine days. I miss my sweatpants. Still can't do the bra yet, too many little scabbies. Fortunately, there ain't too much boob to corral and I can get away with layering a few shirts.

About to make my first public appearance at the grocery store. I figure if people look at me funny, I'll just tell them I'm the first known case of bird flu in North America. That should back them right the fuck off.

COOKIE WISDOM



Good morning, new day
The sun's in the sky
I just ate some toast
And am wondering why

My life's been so lucky
While others' are rough
Me, I want for nothing
I always have enough

My job is a good one
With family, I'm blessed
In health I am solid
(Even pox I did best!)

And the best thing by far
To come along in my life
Is the lovable bald man
Who wants me for a wife

For such a long time
I've felt there should be more
Excitement and challenge
So I'd not start to bore

Flailing 'bout in calm waters
Trying hard to make waves
Stepping off serene pathways
To peer into dark caves

Never happy with "happy"
Just ever annoyed
By not finding SOMETHING
To fill up the void

But what if that SOMETHING'S
Not in one neat box?
What if I stop digging?
Or picking up rocks?

What if SOMETHING'S made up
Of little moments each day?
A wondrous mosaic,
I guess one could say

Tucked in Chinese cookie
That fortune, so wise
My life's big adventure's
Right in front of my eyes.