For the week ending 11/8/08
A word before we start. I am a compulsive list-maker. At any one time, I have a master list that is categorized (stuff for school, special projects, errands, etc.), and a list that breaks tasks down day-by-day. Lists help me keep track of all the many things I must do. I also find them fun. Why? God only knows. Anyway, I love making lists of things that make me happy, and so I introduce to you, the DecaAwesome List, a top ten of stuff from the week. Sometimes I'll include an explanation with the list item and sometimes I'll let these things speak for themselves. In no particular order:
1) The Big Bang Theory and Venture Brothers. The two funniest shows on television. And they're two shows that were specifically designed to be funny to complete nerds. Big Bang Theory is on Mondays at 8 on CBS. Venture Brothers is on Adult Swim (Cartoon Network) every night at 12:30AM.
2) Chipotle - the restaurant. I ate food from there for the first time this week. It's always been a favorite of S and C, but I've never eaten there myself because I'm so damn picky. But then S told me I could have them make my burrito as boring as I liked. So I did and it was delicious. I even liked the cilantro rice, and I usually HATE cilantro. Score!
3) Pilsbury Cinnamon Buns. It's WRONG how good they are. Wrong. Also, I'm hungry right now.
4) Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang. Robert Downey, Jr. is maybe the funniest guy ever. I laughed like a freak throughout the whole thing. I just love meta stuff. Shane Black is a genius.
5) My purple pen. It was the one perk I got from judging the student Talent Show at school. It's just a plain Bic, but it writes in purple ink and it makes me happy.
6) Hotel pens. Yes, the nerd has two entries about PENS. The bulk of my pens comes from hotels. Sitting next to my keyboard on the desk is a pen from the Hyatt. I love hotel pens because they're free, and I usually get them when I'm at a conference. Conferences give me that good feeling of possibility so, by association: hotel pens = possibility.
7) Change. Not in a nickel and dime kinda way and not in an Obama way either. I just mean that you can be unhappy and you can change it. You can change your reaction, change your actions, change your situation, and just generally flip the script on almost anything. You just have to be willing to do it.
8) The Artist's Way. I'm reading it. It makes me feel like I'm validating my desire to write more. By reading this book, I am silently saying, "I'm serious about this."
9) The drum part of "Cherub Rock" on Rock Band. One of the most enjoyable songs I have yet played on this addictive game. Also, my band, Monkey Deathcar is very big in Amsterdam.
10) Editing. I was up until 3:30 last night working on the Accreditation Document, and even though the job is a total pain in the ass, it feels really good to fix something that's broken. Who ever guessed that I would be good at fixing anything? I can't fix a car or a dishwasher. I can't fix elections or contests. I can't even glue something back together without bonding two of my fingers together. But damn it, I can fix a sentence that makes no sense. I can make your subject and verb agree. I can maintain parallel construction and proper syntax. I can translate "english" into English. And I can have fun doing it, even at 3 in the morning.
~Hero
Saturday, November 8, 2008
Friday, November 7, 2008
Dusty Corners of My Mind
Part VII in the Blog-A-Week Series
In addition to my normal blog entry, I am introducing a new feature this week: the DecaAwesome List. It's a top ten of things that have been awesome this week. I plan to make this a weekly feature and I might just make it its own entry. Stay tuned...
On the way driving to work today, I smelled tar. They must have been doing some road work or something, because as I drove by Alvarado on the 101, I smelled the unmistakable odor of tar. This smell has very powerful memories for me. When I was living in the Hunter dorms many moons ago (somewhere around 11-14 years ago), maintenance folks were re-tarring the roof of my dorm and the adjoining south building. The smell of tar permeated the air for weeks on end. God only knows what kind of lung disease I developed just from living there. So whenever I smell tar, it always reminds me of this particular period in my college history. And furthermore, it reminds me of a particular incident.
I was sitting in my dorm room, good old 1053 (spent every fall and spring there for 5 years). It was probably early afternoon. I want to say it was a Saturday...in Spring. And all of a sudden, the fire alarms started going off. I ignored them as I had learned to do from dozens of false alarms over the years. Until I heard commotion in the common area. I opened my door and leaned out to find people milling about and one very panic-stricken girl pushing the elevator button frantically and muttering something like, "On fire. It's on fire. Heh. FIRE." I turned around, grabbed a pair of shoes, my wallet, and my keys and fled down the stairs calling over to Panic Girl: "You don't take the elevator in a fire, you take the stairs." When I got outside, I joined a crowd of folks, and then I saw that the roof of the south building was en fuego. At first, I breathed a sigh of relief because my building wasn't in any immediate danger, but I reminded myself that fire is unpredictable, and that the two buildings were, in fact, connected. The more practical part of my brain started making a list of irreplaceable things I might have been about to lose.
I stood out there with my friend Dan and got giggly. I tend to do that when I'm not immediately involved in a situation. After a while of watching and smelling the tar burn (fire is a mesmerizing sight), a bunch of us--some in pajamas and slippers--walked to a Starbucks a couple of blocks away. There wasn't anything that we could do about the fire, so we figured: latte. Or in my case, a nice cup of tea.
There's something special about those moments that are so far out of the ordinary that they stand out. I knew it was unlikely I'd ever see the dorm fire again, and we also figured out that the FDNY had the situation well in hand right away. So we sat in Starbucks, sipping our drinks, savoring the uniqueness of the moment. A moment that I always remember when the good people of L.A. County public works are filling a pothole or patching up some street I'm driving by.
Amazing how the mind remembers such details. The smell of tar will forever remind me of: college, the dorm, Dan, fire, Panic Girl, and sitting in Starbucks across from someone wearing pajamas and bunny slippers.
~Hero
In addition to my normal blog entry, I am introducing a new feature this week: the DecaAwesome List. It's a top ten of things that have been awesome this week. I plan to make this a weekly feature and I might just make it its own entry. Stay tuned...
On the way driving to work today, I smelled tar. They must have been doing some road work or something, because as I drove by Alvarado on the 101, I smelled the unmistakable odor of tar. This smell has very powerful memories for me. When I was living in the Hunter dorms many moons ago (somewhere around 11-14 years ago), maintenance folks were re-tarring the roof of my dorm and the adjoining south building. The smell of tar permeated the air for weeks on end. God only knows what kind of lung disease I developed just from living there. So whenever I smell tar, it always reminds me of this particular period in my college history. And furthermore, it reminds me of a particular incident.
I was sitting in my dorm room, good old 1053 (spent every fall and spring there for 5 years). It was probably early afternoon. I want to say it was a Saturday...in Spring. And all of a sudden, the fire alarms started going off. I ignored them as I had learned to do from dozens of false alarms over the years. Until I heard commotion in the common area. I opened my door and leaned out to find people milling about and one very panic-stricken girl pushing the elevator button frantically and muttering something like, "On fire. It's on fire. Heh. FIRE." I turned around, grabbed a pair of shoes, my wallet, and my keys and fled down the stairs calling over to Panic Girl: "You don't take the elevator in a fire, you take the stairs." When I got outside, I joined a crowd of folks, and then I saw that the roof of the south building was en fuego. At first, I breathed a sigh of relief because my building wasn't in any immediate danger, but I reminded myself that fire is unpredictable, and that the two buildings were, in fact, connected. The more practical part of my brain started making a list of irreplaceable things I might have been about to lose.
I stood out there with my friend Dan and got giggly. I tend to do that when I'm not immediately involved in a situation. After a while of watching and smelling the tar burn (fire is a mesmerizing sight), a bunch of us--some in pajamas and slippers--walked to a Starbucks a couple of blocks away. There wasn't anything that we could do about the fire, so we figured: latte. Or in my case, a nice cup of tea.
There's something special about those moments that are so far out of the ordinary that they stand out. I knew it was unlikely I'd ever see the dorm fire again, and we also figured out that the FDNY had the situation well in hand right away. So we sat in Starbucks, sipping our drinks, savoring the uniqueness of the moment. A moment that I always remember when the good people of L.A. County public works are filling a pothole or patching up some street I'm driving by.
Amazing how the mind remembers such details. The smell of tar will forever remind me of: college, the dorm, Dan, fire, Panic Girl, and sitting in Starbucks across from someone wearing pajamas and bunny slippers.
~Hero
Saturday, November 1, 2008
BOO!
Part VI in the Blog-A-Week Series
Yesterday was Halloween. I wore two costumes. At school, I was a "sexy countess" (the label said so) complete with a "scarlett o'hara" wig. It was a strange little costume because it's not really anything specific. Just a vague 18th century-type thing. But it was a sort of theme with the other young faculty in my department. Then last night at a friend's party, I was a Playboy Bunny. I chose that costume because it was flattering, but more importantly, it was a costume that came in my size. So many of the other interesting costumes I saw came only in larger sizes.
The bunny costume was successful. It was not without problems, though. My ears got caught on all hanging decorations, and I spent the party tugging down the back of the skirt for propriety's sake. As costumes go, it wasn't too uncomfortable. Except for the shoes which were excruciating. I could barely walk this morning. Today I am wearing big, fat, clunky, flat shoes. Ahhhh...
So I started thinking about how we choose our costumes as adults and how we chose them as kids. It's kinda fascinating. When we're kids, we pick characters we like and identify with. Like Luke Skywalker or Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz. Or something more general like an army guy or a surgeon. Halloween gives us a chance--even when we're adults--to play pretend for a day. Dress up really fancy or, in contrast, go the ol' hobo route. Take all of Boba Fett's badass street cred without actually becoming a bounty hunter yourself.
Some people pick theme costumes they can wear with a significant other or friend. I remember P and S coming as doctor and accident victim one year. C and K always choose a theme for the two of them. Last night, K was a dragon and C was the warrior princess destined to slay him. A married couple came to the party as party games: he was Operation (complete with removable sticky body parts--entre nous, when I got home I realized his "water on the knee" was stuck to the bottom of my shoe) and she was Twister (her hat was the spinner). Or you could choose based on a group idea. When I lived in Queens, every year, my group of friends said it was doing Star Wars as a theme. I was going to be Boba Fett, but it never actually happened. *sigh*
Yesterday was Halloween. I wore two costumes. At school, I was a "sexy countess" (the label said so) complete with a "scarlett o'hara" wig. It was a strange little costume because it's not really anything specific. Just a vague 18th century-type thing. But it was a sort of theme with the other young faculty in my department. Then last night at a friend's party, I was a Playboy Bunny. I chose that costume because it was flattering, but more importantly, it was a costume that came in my size. So many of the other interesting costumes I saw came only in larger sizes.
The bunny costume was successful. It was not without problems, though. My ears got caught on all hanging decorations, and I spent the party tugging down the back of the skirt for propriety's sake. As costumes go, it wasn't too uncomfortable. Except for the shoes which were excruciating. I could barely walk this morning. Today I am wearing big, fat, clunky, flat shoes. Ahhhh...
So I started thinking about how we choose our costumes as adults and how we chose them as kids. It's kinda fascinating. When we're kids, we pick characters we like and identify with. Like Luke Skywalker or Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz. Or something more general like an army guy or a surgeon. Halloween gives us a chance--even when we're adults--to play pretend for a day. Dress up really fancy or, in contrast, go the ol' hobo route. Take all of Boba Fett's badass street cred without actually becoming a bounty hunter yourself.
Some people pick theme costumes they can wear with a significant other or friend. I remember P and S coming as doctor and accident victim one year. C and K always choose a theme for the two of them. Last night, K was a dragon and C was the warrior princess destined to slay him. A married couple came to the party as party games: he was Operation (complete with removable sticky body parts--entre nous, when I got home I realized his "water on the knee" was stuck to the bottom of my shoe) and she was Twister (her hat was the spinner). Or you could choose based on a group idea. When I lived in Queens, every year, my group of friends said it was doing Star Wars as a theme. I was going to be Boba Fett, but it never actually happened. *sigh*
As we grow up, getting a costume is really more of an inconvenience than anything else. Like, "Oh damn, I have to decide what to be by Friday." It's not like when you're a kid and you see a movie in June and you just KNOW that you're going to be so-and-so in four months. And if you're in a couple, you have to wonder if your significant other is going to be annoyed if you're something that stands alone ("So what am I supposed to be, honey?"). And if you're single, are you going to pick something that might get you someone's digits?
I admit, I kinda copped out this year. A Bunny? Really? As I said, it was the only costume I liked and fit into. I wasn't dying to be a bunny. But there wasn't anything else that piqued my interest either. I miss the days when I was a kid and picking a Halloween costume meant something. It was a statement of ideals, of what was important to you. Did you want to be the hero Luke (even though he was a little whiny)? Or did you want to go as the badass scoundrel Han? Did you want to be a heroic firefighter, or a rock out in a toga? Princess or pumpkin?
Is it just because I'm grown up that I don't care so much about what I am anymore? Or is it that I'm missing some heroes in my life? I don't know, but I do have hope that it won't always be an inconvenience. Next year, maybe someone--real or imagined--will emerge and I'll want to be them for Halloween for next year.
If not, there's always McLovin'.
~Hero
Thursday, October 23, 2008
Laughing Place
Part V in the Blog-A-Week Series
Five weeks and I'm still sticking to it! Yes!
Today is Thursday and I have no classes to teach on Thursday. Usually, I use my days off (Tuesdays and Thursdays) to do errands and basically run around like mad. But I planned ahead, moved some things around, and made today a free day so I could go to Disneyland. I haven't been since last year when I sang with the choir there. I bought an annual pass on that trip and I never got to use it. Anyhoo, I went with a buddy and I spent the day riding rides, eating kettle corn, and taking a break from the crazy work that has been eating my head.
I haven't been on Splash Mountain in years, but it was a really hot day so we decided to go. I forgot that the theme of the ride is Song of the South. For a time when I was growing up, my Dad used to read my sister and me stories about Brer Fox and Brer Bear and that clever Brer Rabbit. And one of the things Brer Rabbit used to talk about was his "Laughin' Place." Brer Rabbit used to go there to laugh at how he'd outsmarted Brer Fox and Brer Bear. He also went there when things weren't going so well; it was a place to step back, reassess, and find ways to turn disadvantages into advantages. In short, a Laughing Place is a place to look on the bright side, whether reality makes that easy or not.
I had forgotten all about the laughing place, and I can name you a dozen times in the last few months when I could have used one. There have been some really tough moments where I just wanted to escape to a place where I could get some time to think by myself. So while I was on Splash Mountain, I started to think about where my Laughing Place is. Where can I go to get away from everything and everyone? What place feels so comfortable that my stress level goes down just being there?
I thought long and hard about this, and what I came up with proves beyond a shadow of a doubt that I am a nerd to the core. My Laughing Place is USC's Doheny Library. Like most libraries, it's quiet and cool and full of books. I spent so much time there when I was a student that I can pretty much find my way through it blind. Besides the hours and hours I was in there doing my class assignments, I spent two years researching my dissertation in the Cinema Library, the Music Library, and the regular stacks. God help me, I love it there. To me, it represents knowledge, but that library also represents something even more important: possibility. I can think there. I can plan there. I can gather my thoughts in the serene silence, and strategize. When I leave, I always feel revitalized and full of ideas.
As a bonus, out in front of the library, there's a little rose garden that surrounds a beautiful fountain. On my way in or out of the library, I smell the roses, just to remind myself that I'm not in so much of a rush that I can't enjoy the simple things. I always stop and smell the roses. No matter what.
I guess part of it is also what USC has meant to me. Nine years ago, when I was miserable teaching middle school, and I decided that I wanted to get my Ph.D. and teach college, USC was the place that was going to help me achieve that dream. When I was taking classes there and working my part-time job in the library, it was the place where that dream was coming true. I remember taking moments here and there to appreciate the fact that I was doing actually doing what I said I was going to. To me, it's magic because of that. It is a place where a dream came true, minute by minute, day by day, over five amazing, life-changing years. The day I graduated will always be one of the best, most magical days of my life.
So now, when I need a little magic or when I need to remember that dreams come true if you work hard and take some risks, I go there. I'm judging from the lack of shocked looks that none of you is surprised. My Laughing Place is a library. Hmm. Imagine that.
~Hero
Friday, October 17, 2008
Midterm Progress Report
Part IV in the Blog-A-Week Series
We've just about struck midterm here at school. Saturday will mark the end of week 7 out of 15. I thought that now would be as good a time as any to give myself a little midterm progress report. I've devised some categories and I'm going to evaluate how I'm doing in each.
School: I'm in the groove here. I have a big job ahead of me in the next week, making up the midterm for my Music Appreciation class, but it's completely do-able. My other classes are singing classes and we don't do midterms in those, so it's just like any other week. I've decided that I need to stay more in touch with changes in the educational zeitgeist so I think I might subscribe to the MENC (Music Educators National Council) publication. Also, I'm reading a couple of books to help hone my teaching technique. After all, I never thought I'd be teaching voice so it's high time I got fully on board with the program. This is my job now and will be for a while, so I might as well be the best I can be at it. Assessment: feelin' fine.
Accreditation: This would be going so much better if I had some time to do it. The report has been written (by many hands) in a language that is almost English. I'm constantly yelling at the computer screen nerdy things like, "No! NO! NO! Doesn't ANYONE care about syntax anymore?!?" or "That's NOT a verb! This sentence has no VERB!" or "For the love of GOD, stop misusing APOSTROPHES!!!!!" My roommate can attest that I spend as much time yelling at the computer as I do actually editing. It's slow-going, but it's getting done, and come hell or high water, it has to be done soon. Assessment: needs work (and time).
Program Notes: Can you believe I'm still writing these? Yep. St. Paul Chamber Orchestra still has me writing all the way through February. I have two notes due in the next few days and two corrections due ASAP. I'm getting them done, hopefully today. Assessment: Satisfactory, if slightly annoying.
Writing: I'm keeping up with the Blog-A-Week thing so that's good. However, I've completely neglected my two novels-in-progress, and I don't know if I'm going back to them any time soon. They're just not under my skin anymore. One of them, the adult one, I might abandon completely (for now, at least), just because it deals with a lot of stuff that was going on before the break-up and I don't know that I want to get back into that. I did come up with a really good idea for a funny book while I was on the couch at therapy yesterday. Might be therapeutic too. We'll see. Assessment: making progress, but needs work.
Social: Things are going well here. I think I'm making myself available for fun stuff. The duo I sing back-up for, Bunnies and Kitties, had a show last night and it was a very successful event. A lot of people came and I had a chance to hang out with Cael a bit. Maybe I'll have drinks with CP this afternoon (if I get my program notes done), and I think I'm going to see a movie with my roommate tonight. I have a dinner date with Cat tomorrow night. I saw Steve earlier in the week, and I had a chance to talk to Rebecca. I even got to see Pat briefly on Tuesday. In short, I'm maintaining a healthy social calendar. I do owe some folks emails. Assessment: Pretty good, but I better watch out that I don't overdo it.
Romantic: Let's not even GO there, shall we? Assessment: Ick.
Other: Well sir, I have some other projects that have been simmering on the backburner so long, I wonder if they're still viable. One is the Back to the Future paper. I feel like all I need is one full day to get this done. One full day of nothing but this, and I can get it into shape. If a full day of nothing does not present itself, I will take a mental health day from school and create one. All the other stuff (book proposal and article) will have to wait until after Thanksgiving, I think. Assessment: Entirely do-able.
Overall Assessment: I guess I'm doing all right. It helps to see it all laid out like this, I think. I've always been pretty good at prioritizing and keeping things on track. I find that I'm still catching up from summer work. Also, the events of the end of summer, i.e. the break-up and Singapore, sapped my energy for a period that was perhaps a little too long, but I must accept my humanity and extreme imperfection. Now I'm back and trying to go at it full force. I'm putting my head down and my shoulder to the wheel. Next time I look up, it might just be Christmas.
~Hero
We've just about struck midterm here at school. Saturday will mark the end of week 7 out of 15. I thought that now would be as good a time as any to give myself a little midterm progress report. I've devised some categories and I'm going to evaluate how I'm doing in each.
School: I'm in the groove here. I have a big job ahead of me in the next week, making up the midterm for my Music Appreciation class, but it's completely do-able. My other classes are singing classes and we don't do midterms in those, so it's just like any other week. I've decided that I need to stay more in touch with changes in the educational zeitgeist so I think I might subscribe to the MENC (Music Educators National Council) publication. Also, I'm reading a couple of books to help hone my teaching technique. After all, I never thought I'd be teaching voice so it's high time I got fully on board with the program. This is my job now and will be for a while, so I might as well be the best I can be at it. Assessment: feelin' fine.
Accreditation: This would be going so much better if I had some time to do it. The report has been written (by many hands) in a language that is almost English. I'm constantly yelling at the computer screen nerdy things like, "No! NO! NO! Doesn't ANYONE care about syntax anymore?!?" or "That's NOT a verb! This sentence has no VERB!" or "For the love of GOD, stop misusing APOSTROPHES!!!!!" My roommate can attest that I spend as much time yelling at the computer as I do actually editing. It's slow-going, but it's getting done, and come hell or high water, it has to be done soon. Assessment: needs work (and time).
Program Notes: Can you believe I'm still writing these? Yep. St. Paul Chamber Orchestra still has me writing all the way through February. I have two notes due in the next few days and two corrections due ASAP. I'm getting them done, hopefully today. Assessment: Satisfactory, if slightly annoying.
Writing: I'm keeping up with the Blog-A-Week thing so that's good. However, I've completely neglected my two novels-in-progress, and I don't know if I'm going back to them any time soon. They're just not under my skin anymore. One of them, the adult one, I might abandon completely (for now, at least), just because it deals with a lot of stuff that was going on before the break-up and I don't know that I want to get back into that. I did come up with a really good idea for a funny book while I was on the couch at therapy yesterday. Might be therapeutic too. We'll see. Assessment: making progress, but needs work.
Social: Things are going well here. I think I'm making myself available for fun stuff. The duo I sing back-up for, Bunnies and Kitties, had a show last night and it was a very successful event. A lot of people came and I had a chance to hang out with Cael a bit. Maybe I'll have drinks with CP this afternoon (if I get my program notes done), and I think I'm going to see a movie with my roommate tonight. I have a dinner date with Cat tomorrow night. I saw Steve earlier in the week, and I had a chance to talk to Rebecca. I even got to see Pat briefly on Tuesday. In short, I'm maintaining a healthy social calendar. I do owe some folks emails. Assessment: Pretty good, but I better watch out that I don't overdo it.
Romantic: Let's not even GO there, shall we? Assessment: Ick.
Other: Well sir, I have some other projects that have been simmering on the backburner so long, I wonder if they're still viable. One is the Back to the Future paper. I feel like all I need is one full day to get this done. One full day of nothing but this, and I can get it into shape. If a full day of nothing does not present itself, I will take a mental health day from school and create one. All the other stuff (book proposal and article) will have to wait until after Thanksgiving, I think. Assessment: Entirely do-able.
Overall Assessment: I guess I'm doing all right. It helps to see it all laid out like this, I think. I've always been pretty good at prioritizing and keeping things on track. I find that I'm still catching up from summer work. Also, the events of the end of summer, i.e. the break-up and Singapore, sapped my energy for a period that was perhaps a little too long, but I must accept my humanity and extreme imperfection. Now I'm back and trying to go at it full force. I'm putting my head down and my shoulder to the wheel. Next time I look up, it might just be Christmas.
~Hero
Friday, October 10, 2008
One Errand at a Time
Part III in the Blog A Week series
When you spend a lot of time with someone who is good at something, I think it's tempting to let him or her do that thing whenever it comes up. Me? I am terrible at directions. I have a computer brain for some things--phone numbers, for instance--but remembering where things are or how to get from point A to point B is always going to be a struggle for me. J is a savant when it comes to directions so when we were together, I just let him do that. I didn't pay attention in the car when we drove somewhere, I didn't make note of where we were and where we'd just come from. Even when I got my own car 3 years ago, I still called him up on the phone when I needed to get to a store, or when I was in the midst of being well and truly lost.
But now I can't do that. And I shouldn't. I'm in my thirties, for heaven's sake, and I should be able to find a Trader Joe's by myself. Also, I should probably know where north is, but I think there's a magnet in my brain that thwarts that effort. Since the break-up, I toyed with the idea of getting myself a GPS. I probably still should, but I haven't yet. Nope, right now it's Mapquest, the Thomas Guide, spoken directions, and some roughly drawn maps from Steve.
For the most part, I'm getting where I need to go. I know this is pathetic--me telling you this--since I'm sure anyone reading this is like, 'yeah. duh. this is what happens when you get your own driver's license.' But it's not like that for me. I got my license at 17, but I didn't own a car until 14 years later. I drove to the same five places in New York, and for the last five years before I moved to California, I took the train everywhere. So it's not a skill set I've been using. Until now.
Yesterday, I had to give blood in Pasadena. I managed to find the place all right using the Thomas Guide. Sad as it seems, I did a little victory dance when I found it without getting lost. Small victories are sweet. Then, as I was giving blood, I realized the next errand was returning my non-working copy of Rock Band to Best Buy, and I had no idea where there was a Best Buy. Now, I'm the kind of person who will go completely out of her way to go back to a familiar place rather than figure out a new, riskier way. So I could have gone to the Burbank Best Buy or even the Los Feliz one, but instead, I got on the phone while I was eating my cookies and juice, and I called information. Like a grown-up! I found out that there was a Best Buy mere blocks from where I was sitting.
So I used my maps and I got there. I exchanged the game and went on my merry way. All without getting lost. I felt so proud of myself. Proud enough to write about it here. I didn't call anyone for help (except information, but that totally doesn't count). I didn't have to rely on someone else to get me where I needed to go. I got myself there and it felt pretty darn good. Small victories are indeed sweet. I'm reclaiming my independence one errand at a time.
~Hero
When you spend a lot of time with someone who is good at something, I think it's tempting to let him or her do that thing whenever it comes up. Me? I am terrible at directions. I have a computer brain for some things--phone numbers, for instance--but remembering where things are or how to get from point A to point B is always going to be a struggle for me. J is a savant when it comes to directions so when we were together, I just let him do that. I didn't pay attention in the car when we drove somewhere, I didn't make note of where we were and where we'd just come from. Even when I got my own car 3 years ago, I still called him up on the phone when I needed to get to a store, or when I was in the midst of being well and truly lost.
But now I can't do that. And I shouldn't. I'm in my thirties, for heaven's sake, and I should be able to find a Trader Joe's by myself. Also, I should probably know where north is, but I think there's a magnet in my brain that thwarts that effort. Since the break-up, I toyed with the idea of getting myself a GPS. I probably still should, but I haven't yet. Nope, right now it's Mapquest, the Thomas Guide, spoken directions, and some roughly drawn maps from Steve.
For the most part, I'm getting where I need to go. I know this is pathetic--me telling you this--since I'm sure anyone reading this is like, 'yeah. duh. this is what happens when you get your own driver's license.' But it's not like that for me. I got my license at 17, but I didn't own a car until 14 years later. I drove to the same five places in New York, and for the last five years before I moved to California, I took the train everywhere. So it's not a skill set I've been using. Until now.
Yesterday, I had to give blood in Pasadena. I managed to find the place all right using the Thomas Guide. Sad as it seems, I did a little victory dance when I found it without getting lost. Small victories are sweet. Then, as I was giving blood, I realized the next errand was returning my non-working copy of Rock Band to Best Buy, and I had no idea where there was a Best Buy. Now, I'm the kind of person who will go completely out of her way to go back to a familiar place rather than figure out a new, riskier way. So I could have gone to the Burbank Best Buy or even the Los Feliz one, but instead, I got on the phone while I was eating my cookies and juice, and I called information. Like a grown-up! I found out that there was a Best Buy mere blocks from where I was sitting.
So I used my maps and I got there. I exchanged the game and went on my merry way. All without getting lost. I felt so proud of myself. Proud enough to write about it here. I didn't call anyone for help (except information, but that totally doesn't count). I didn't have to rely on someone else to get me where I needed to go. I got myself there and it felt pretty darn good. Small victories are indeed sweet. I'm reclaiming my independence one errand at a time.
~Hero
Saturday, October 4, 2008
Get Out of Your Own Damn Way
Part II in the Blog A Week Series
I'm just getting this entry in under the wire. Whew! Don't want to blow the whole blog-a-week thing on week 2. That is just not on. So, here we go. I am a moderately successful person in the world, I think. Sure, there are still thousands of things I have yet to do, but I'm doing all right: friends, jobs, hobbies, extracurriculars. Maybe if I continue to work really hard, I'll become a grand success. And if I do, I think I'll write a self-help book. I already have the name picked out: Get Out of Your Own Damn Way. And it'll have a kicky subtitle like: Removing Obstacles to Your Own Success.
Here's the thing: as an educator, I see people getting in their own way all the time. And it's frustrating, especially when you see it happen to people who could really make a difference in the world. Wasted potential is almost as bad as wasted time, but wasted time you can never get back. It breaks my heart that some of my students never got encouragement when they were younger, and they've suffered all of their lives because of it. And now, instead of just doing the things they want to do in life, they have to spend years finding ways over or around the junk that blocks their progress. Sometimes I think I was called to do my job because I was given so much encouragement by my parents. As if they trained me to do the very thing that I'm doing. Not the music part, but the encouragement part. The nurturing patience part. The love part.
Helping folks reach their potential is a topic that's always on my mind, so imagine my surprise when I read about this very thing in an article in The Key Reporter this week (this is Phi Beta Kappa's quarterly publication). The article was taken from a lecture by Richard Leo Enos from Texas Christian University. He uses Michelangelo and Victor Hugo as examples of people who were driven by some unseen force to use their talents to the full. What made these guys go out there and give it their all, while most of us let time pass us by? Some, like Greek educator, Isocrates believed that a smart and successful student has three traits: talent, the willingness to practice, and experience. Talent, well that's a given. Although baseball great Lou Gehrig maintained that he wasn't born with any more talent for baseball than anyone else; it was practice that made the difference for him. Practice, he said, turns failure into success. Experience is what happens when you actually try. There's no substitute for it. Problem is, a lot of people don't even get to that stage. Or they think they're not ready for it so they practice their life away, not realizing that at some point, you need to try whether or not you feel ready.
In his lecture, Enos cites Aristotle who said that in addition to talent, a person has dynamis, or power. It's this power that allows people to take risks and make that leap. Most people don't tap into this power. Or they wait for the signal to come from outside, not realizing that it's already there inside of them. Enos concludes by saying that the three things necessary for success are: hard work, effort, and risk-taking.
To these, I'd add attitude. Attitude turns failure into success (you learned from it, didn't you?). Attitude also turns anxiety into excitement, obstacles into challenges, risks into adventures. I don't know how to get my students to understand that they too can be successful. The best I've figured out so far is telling them what I know and modeling this behavior. When I figure out more concrete methods, I'll write my book.
This could be a scary time for me, newly single, on my own for the first time in forever. But I'm trying to take on the challenges as they come. Driving to places I've never been before (and getting lost), trying to fix things that I've never fixed, trying not to blame myself for every disaster. And it's all about my attitude, I think.
A song from the musical Wicked keeps running through my head. It's "Defying Gravity," and the song starts out, "Something has changed within me/ Something is not the same." Well, that's for sure. A few lines later, it goes on, "Too late for second-guessing/ Too late to go back to sleep./ It's time to trust my instincts/ Close my eyes and leap."
So that's it. That's what I tell my students and what I tell myself. The time for overthinking is over. Push through the moment of doubt. There's something great on the other side, so do it: close your eyes and leap.
~Hero
I'm just getting this entry in under the wire. Whew! Don't want to blow the whole blog-a-week thing on week 2. That is just not on. So, here we go. I am a moderately successful person in the world, I think. Sure, there are still thousands of things I have yet to do, but I'm doing all right: friends, jobs, hobbies, extracurriculars. Maybe if I continue to work really hard, I'll become a grand success. And if I do, I think I'll write a self-help book. I already have the name picked out: Get Out of Your Own Damn Way. And it'll have a kicky subtitle like: Removing Obstacles to Your Own Success.
Here's the thing: as an educator, I see people getting in their own way all the time. And it's frustrating, especially when you see it happen to people who could really make a difference in the world. Wasted potential is almost as bad as wasted time, but wasted time you can never get back. It breaks my heart that some of my students never got encouragement when they were younger, and they've suffered all of their lives because of it. And now, instead of just doing the things they want to do in life, they have to spend years finding ways over or around the junk that blocks their progress. Sometimes I think I was called to do my job because I was given so much encouragement by my parents. As if they trained me to do the very thing that I'm doing. Not the music part, but the encouragement part. The nurturing patience part. The love part.
Helping folks reach their potential is a topic that's always on my mind, so imagine my surprise when I read about this very thing in an article in The Key Reporter this week (this is Phi Beta Kappa's quarterly publication). The article was taken from a lecture by Richard Leo Enos from Texas Christian University. He uses Michelangelo and Victor Hugo as examples of people who were driven by some unseen force to use their talents to the full. What made these guys go out there and give it their all, while most of us let time pass us by? Some, like Greek educator, Isocrates believed that a smart and successful student has three traits: talent, the willingness to practice, and experience. Talent, well that's a given. Although baseball great Lou Gehrig maintained that he wasn't born with any more talent for baseball than anyone else; it was practice that made the difference for him. Practice, he said, turns failure into success. Experience is what happens when you actually try. There's no substitute for it. Problem is, a lot of people don't even get to that stage. Or they think they're not ready for it so they practice their life away, not realizing that at some point, you need to try whether or not you feel ready.
In his lecture, Enos cites Aristotle who said that in addition to talent, a person has dynamis, or power. It's this power that allows people to take risks and make that leap. Most people don't tap into this power. Or they wait for the signal to come from outside, not realizing that it's already there inside of them. Enos concludes by saying that the three things necessary for success are: hard work, effort, and risk-taking.
To these, I'd add attitude. Attitude turns failure into success (you learned from it, didn't you?). Attitude also turns anxiety into excitement, obstacles into challenges, risks into adventures. I don't know how to get my students to understand that they too can be successful. The best I've figured out so far is telling them what I know and modeling this behavior. When I figure out more concrete methods, I'll write my book.
This could be a scary time for me, newly single, on my own for the first time in forever. But I'm trying to take on the challenges as they come. Driving to places I've never been before (and getting lost), trying to fix things that I've never fixed, trying not to blame myself for every disaster. And it's all about my attitude, I think.
A song from the musical Wicked keeps running through my head. It's "Defying Gravity," and the song starts out, "Something has changed within me/ Something is not the same." Well, that's for sure. A few lines later, it goes on, "Too late for second-guessing/ Too late to go back to sleep./ It's time to trust my instincts/ Close my eyes and leap."
So that's it. That's what I tell my students and what I tell myself. The time for overthinking is over. Push through the moment of doubt. There's something great on the other side, so do it: close your eyes and leap.
~Hero
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