Tradition!

I've always liked traditions. They give me a sense of comfort and continuity. My family has a lot of traditions, they just don't happen to be traditional traditions. Like swimming on Christmas. Often, we don't even know how a tradition starts- we've just always done it that way. . .

My favorite untraditional tradition is the Solstice party. As far as I know, I have only ever missed one Solstice, when I didn't come home soon enough from Prague. I don't really know what anyone else in the world does for the Winter Solstice, but our holiday tradition is a sort of mish-mash of other holiday traditions all under the umbrella of Solstice. Usually there is singing and music. Always wassail and eggnog. Sometime long ago, there began the tradition of performing "St. George and the Dragon" a traditional mummers play from England. Over the years, I have played almost every part in this play. From the Dragon as a child to Lady Holly and this year finally St. George him(her)self. The play is fun and funny- Even though people have been performing the play for years, no one seems to remember their lines (except the steadfast Father Christmas, Charles). The collected costumes (where did we get a foam dragon's head?) only come out once a year.

The other major Solstice tradition is of course the Sword Dance. You can see the children grow from year to year. . . a baby that has to be held as she rides the swords, a child that balances and grasps tightly to an adult relative's head, a youth that is just too heavy to ride but can barely lift the sword above his head for the clanging, a teenager who is now strong enough to hold all six swords in the star formation high for the whole party to see. And then the years of dancing in between until it is time to hold our own children on the swords.

Over the years, the solstice party has been held in many different locations. Someone's house, someone else's house, a church basement (my least favorite), someone else's house again, our house, maybe your house, a rented hall. Many people have attended, some just once, some return year after year. But it doesn't really matter where it is or who comes, because the tradition is there. The tradition evolves some new things appear, some old things disappear, but the tradition is there.

Doing Research

I started to read a book about Albania: The Accursed Mountains: Journeys in Albania by a British writer named Robert Carver. I am about halfway through the book and so far it is a really good account of being a Westerner in Albania. The author has a good sense of humor and his stories are enlightening and a bit frightening (scary in that I will be there in just a few months). If you are curious about my destination, I definitely recommend this book.

Coulda Woulda Shoulda

There are several things that happened in the month of November that I wanted to write about. For some reason I just never got around to writing the following posts:


I am not Denver's Next Top Model

The place- Liz's living room. The time- now. The event- the first annual Denver's Next Top Model party. And who is Denver's Next Top Model? Well, not me. I got eliminated in the first round because apparently I was playing it safe and my walk was too clunky (it's not my fault that I have to wear big shoes, I'm like 5 feet tall!). But I'm not bitter. Actually being eliminated meant that I didn't have to make a dress out of trash bags or do a commercial for a random product. I did get to watch and drink and hang out with my friends as they all acted like models and judges and help with hair and make-up.

Casa Bonita

If you have never been to Casa Bonita, then you have never been to Denver. On this wonderful trip to the pinkest Mexicanish resturant in Denver, the joys did not cease. It was Krista's birthday and being new to this great town of ours, she had never seen the magical world of Casa Bonita. The cliff divers, the sopapillas, black barts cave, the skee ball, the stomach ache the morning after because you actually ate the food. John Shoe (a little bit obsessed with the Casa) gave us a grand tour that included every nook and cranny of this massive place. Even though I have been to CB many times, I have to admit that I saw some new things on this visit. And I learned something: go with the taco salad- it is really hard to mess up when you are dealing with ice berg lettuce, a few tomatos and some cheese. I didn't even feel sick the next day.

And my new job is. . .

I am an overachiever. It's true. If I don't have a lot of things going on I get really bored. I mean watch the whole second season of the OC in one weekend bored. So when Wendy asked if I would help her out at the museum that she runs, I thought it sounded great. Work a few days a week. . . earn extra money. . . get out of the house. . . do something besides subbing. Wendy is the Executive Director of the Denver Museum of Minitures, Dolls and Toys. Yes, it really exists. It is in an old house near City Park and it is full of fun stuff. Overall, the job is good. I am just helping out until she finds a permanent person and I get to do things like Gingerbread House workshops and decorate for Christmas. I added my own little touch when I brought in a collection of Driedles for a Hannukah display. And yes, it is really creepy if you are there alone at night.

Do you know how much you can do on a PC without a mouse? A lot actually. Today I am subbing at a middle school for an English teacher. Now whether on purpose or by accident, there is no mouse on the computer. Not being one to give up easily, I decided to see how much I could get done using just keyboard commands and the tab key. I have been able to check my e-mail, read some blogs and even write a blog. Ok, enough for now, I need to search for a recipe for cooking club. Wish me luck. Ctrl + S. Goodbye!

Anxiety Dream #1

Usually when I am about to start a new part of my life or I am in a particularly stressful period, I have dreams that illistrate my anxieties and fears. My freshmen year of college I had a series of dreams that involved broken films, screaming mobs and smashed laptops (movie theatre manager/stress about school). Last spring I had a series of dreams that involved birds, notably my darkwing duck dream, I think about the uncertainty of my life at the time (I had just quit my job, but didn't yet know when I would leave for PC). Last night I had the following dream:

I was sitting in a living room that approximated my parents house, watching cartoons in a recliner. I was very interested in the cartoon, although I can't really remember any of it now. About half-way through, my dad came in and sat down in the chair next to mine. We engaged in small talk, but I was not really paying attention because the cartoon was really good. At some point I got annoyed that my dad was talking to me and I snapped at him. He then went on a tirade about how I was lazy and self-involved (very unlike my dad would ever do in real life) and stormed out of the room. I woke up with the feeling that I AM lazy and self-involved and that all I ever do is watch TV. Untrue and annoying.

My interpretation of the dream is that I am having anxiety about the amount of technology that will be available to me when I get to Albania. There is really no way of knowing if the place that I will be living will have a TV, if my town will have a movie theatre or if I will even have electricity. In the grand sceme of things, all of this is really not that important, but in reality, the idea of giving up my electronics scares me a bit. It is one of the many things that I have to wrap my head around over the next three months.

Invitation!!!!

At 1:30 in the morning today I got home and found a package in my mailbox. I thought about waiting until morning, but decided that I just couldn't do it. I walked upstairs and opened the envelope.

Albania. March 20th. Community Development.

Albania? Of all of the countries that I could have possibly been assigned to, I honestly have to say that I probably gave the least thought and consideration to Albania. I thought about Ukraine, I dreamed about Georgia, I considered Romania, I pondered Kazakhstan. But Albania didn't enter my brain until I opened the envelope and read the invitation. I won't say that I was disappointed, but taken aback. I don't really know anything about Albania, do you?

Some facts about Albania:
There are about 3.5 million people living there, 70% are Muslim, the rest are Roman Catholic or Orthodox. It is one of the poorest counties in Europe with a GDP per capita of about $4000 . The terrain is mostly mountainous with a 350 mile coast on the Adriatic and Ionian seas.

The Albanian language is an Indo-European language, meaning that it is related in structure and form to a lot of other European languages, including but not limited to: Greek, Italian and Slavic (makes sense since those are the countries around it), but is not actually in a language sub-group with any of these languages and is distinct. It is written in Latin script (you know, the same one we use) with a few extra letters. It is nothing like any of the languages that I have studied. Albanian makes the sixth distinct language that I have or will have studied (not including English, the only one I actually speak) in the past 10 years (Spanish, Russian, Hebrew, Czech, and Arabic). To finish off my language package I need to learn an African language and an Asian language. Maybe I will actually become close to fluent in Albanian. . .


Albania. March 20th. Community Development. I'm excited. I'm nervous. Ok, I'm kinda freaking out. Yeah!

Going it alone

I am not a loner. Like anyone, I sometimes need time to be alone, but given the choice to be alone or be with someone, I will almost always opt for the company. I would rather watch a movie, watch TV, go to a party, go to a concert or go eat with other people. Going alone into social situations honestly scares me to death. I need a safety net of people I know. . . what if I walk in to the party and I don't know anyone? I don't mind being alone in some situations- sleeping, lounging, working out. I just don't want to be alone all the time.

A few weeks ago, I got free pass for two to see a screening of a movie. I got the pass late on the day before the screening and on the day of the screening I started to look for someone to come with me. I couldn't find a single person to come to the FREE movie with me. My friends were busy, working, out of town. I decided to go to the movie on my own. It was a movie that I really wanted to see (Martian Child with John Cusack) and I didn't want to pass up the chance to see a free movie (I really hate paying for movies- five years working in a theater can spoil a person). I loved the movie, but I hated watching it alone.

Tonight I could have gone to a concert in Boulder. A friend of mine was supposed to go with me, but cancelled at the last minute. I thought of a lot of reasons to not go to the concert- I didn't want to drive to Boulder, I have to get up early for work tomorrow, I don't really have the money. The truth is, I don't want to go alone.

In a few months, I will be leaving for the Peace Corps and living- alone- in a strange new country. If I can't even drive to Boulder alone, how am I going to survive being alone for two years?

Random thoughts. . .

I don't think I like daylight savings time. . . while the extra hour last Sunday was appreciated, I don't like having more daylight in the morning and less in the evening. It doesn't really matter if it is light out when I get up in the morning- I still have to get up. But when I get home, if it is already dark, it makes me want to go out less.

I finally got all the paperwork together for my medical screening for the Peace Corps. I finished my doctors visits over a month ago but couldn't send in the stuff because I was waiting on my insurance company to figure out my bill and I needed the bill to get reimbursed by Peace Corps. I put it in the mail this morning. This is the last bit of stuff that PC needs from me, so assuming that I pass the medical screening (which I should, based on my results) I should have an invatation in a month or so.

The Buntport season started again a few weeks ago- two serial live performances. Starship Troy, a live sitcom that spoofs sci-fi and is based on audience sugestions of books, movies, tv shows or songs and Trunks, a live comic book based on audience suggestions of childrens lit. The Troy episode last night was based on Fame and it was awesome. I always look forward to shows at Buntport to laugh a lot and see all my friends. I'm going to have to figure out a way to get them to send me videos of the shows when I leave.

I'm a multitasker. This is the problem that I have with walking (and also driving or riding a bike) I like to be doing more than one thing at a time. Obviously, reading or writing when driving or biking is not recomended. Apparently reading while walking is dangerous too. I have gotten into the habit of reading the paper on my walks to the library, park and store. Yesterday on the way to the park I almost got hit by two different cars in the space of about two minutes. I have also nearly tripped and nearly walked into a few poles. And they say that walking isn't an extreme sport.

When I was driving home last night, I say a women with a large tree branch hanging out of her car window. She did not seem too concerned about it. I thought is was a little bit strange.

I've never dieted before

I never thought I needed to. I was a skinny child and an active teen. I've never really had the body issues that seem to plague our society. Until recently. As I mentioned before, my activity level has gone down in the past few years. This has contributed to the little bit of extra baggage that I've put on recently. I now understand the phenomenon of the American bubble butt. The life of an average American: get up, drink coffee and eat something fatty for breakfast; drive 20-45 min to work; sit at a desk (or in my case occasionally stand in front of a class) for 8 hours; drive back home; sit and watch TV/play video games/surf the net for 4-5 hours.

It's not that I feel "fat" or anything, I just feel myself being less active and not liking it. I also wonder about my eating habits. I like food. I like good food alot.

So here's my plan, laid out for the world to see. First, I'm going to start keeping track of what I eat. I'm just a little curious. So for two weeks, without really changing my habits, I'm going to start keeping a food journal. At the end of two weeks, I'll evaluate and see what I need to change (I imagine I need to eat more vegatables).

Second, in my off time after school, I'm going to start walking to the rec center and working out. I've never been good about keeping to a work out schedule, so we'll see how this goes. I'm going to go this afternoon to check out the gym.

Wish me luck in my effort to avoid the bubble butt.

complete awesomness

Legally Blonde the Musical.

This is what happens when I'm home to watch TV on Saturday afternoon.

not a morning person

and I don't think I ever will be. Just ask my first period calculus teacher from senior year or any of the students in the first period classes I teach now. I've never understood why high schools start so damned early- in Denver it is between 7:15 and 7:45- and I don't think that I ever will. Studies show that teenagers are not alert until about 8:30. Neither am I. The worst part about having to get up early is the feeling that I have to go to bed early. I'm not to good at that. I should go to bed by 9 o'clock to get my required 8 hours. Throughout college, my earliest class was never before 9 AM and every job I've had since then started at 9 or later. So I got used to going to bed late- at the movie theatre I didn't even get off work until 1 AM usually. The problem is that now I have to get up by 6 but I don't really go to bed any earlier. Why does school have to start at 7 AM? Maybe I have to rethink my choice in profession.

why I love my friends or the schizophrenic birthday party

Friday night we celebrated the birth of three fantastic individuals: Jamie, Nick and Gail. This was a party with something for everyone: dancing, games, drinks, ghost stories and playing with a giant frisbee in the street. It was really like three parties in one.

My favorite moments: telling scary stories in the completely dark and damp and creepy basement laundry room, round the block giant frisbee relay in which I did a face plant on the sidewalk and Krista stole a wheelbarrow from a neighbor's front yard to carry me back and Scattegories- nuf said.

The next event: Denver's Next Top Model party hosted by Liz and J. It's gonna be fierce!

God, I love my friends ;).

I went out walking

Yesterday I took a walk. Walking is not something that I do very much anymore. When I was growing up, I walked all the time. At least to and from school every day from 3rd to 8th grade. Also to the library and the rec center. I very rarely had a ride anywhere and I imagine that I walked at least 3 miles every day for most of my childhood. In college I walked a lot as well. Back and forth across campus, sometimes 3 or 4 times in a day. It just wasn't worth it to drive, mostly because if I had a parking spot, I didn't want to move my car. Since I've been done with school I have noticed a serious decrease in the amount of walking I do. There is no reason to walk- it takes longer and most of the places that I go to now are not within reasonable walking distance.

I've never been a person that does anything- walking, running, driving- just to do it. I like to have a destination. The idea of "let's just go for a drive" is completeley foriegn to me. Why would I want to do that? I want to GO SOMEWHERE. But yesterday, I felt the need to walk. I have been feeling rather lethargic lately, spending most of my free time locked away in my room watching TV, movies and playing mindless games on my computer. I don't actually like myself like this, I feel like I am antisocial and boring and bored. So I decided to walk.

I had a book to pick up from the library and since I don't like walking aimlessly, this seemed like a good destination. I have walked this route before- the approxomately one mile to the Decker Branch of the Denver Public Library- but it has been years, choosing lately to make the trip by car, usually on my way home from somewhere.

Walking through the neighborhood that I spent my childhood walking through brought me back in time. I passed the Presbertirain Church that we had Girl Scout meetings in. There used to be a playground next to it, now there is a community garden full of flowers and ripe squash. I pass by houses that used to be occupied by my friends. I don't know the people that live there now. The nieghborhood is beautiful. Unlike many of the other neighborhoods nearby, there are not too many scrape off McMansions or unsightly add-ons. Most of the neighborhood is still well kept Victorians and cute bungaloos. The weather is perfect for walking. Sunny, but not too hot. Most of the trees are just starting to change color and the yellows and oranges are spectacular.

I think I'm going to try walking more. I'll start with going for destinations and see how that goes. I may even learn to walk just to walk.

I got a sub call yesterday for a music teacher at a middle school with the name of Shawn Funk. With a name like Mr. Funk what else could you be but a music teacher? I didn't take the job, but I really would have loved to take Mr. Funk's music class.

If you want recipes. . .

We've been talking about it for ages. Maybe we were waiting to see if this whole "Cooking Club" was gonna stick. Well, it has been two years and we are still going strong. So we started a blog. Want to find out what crazy themes we have come up with now? (Next theme is "Make it More Joyful (update or improve a recipe from the Joy of Cooking)"). Want to see some recipes from past themes (I already posted from "Cooking with Alcohol"). Want to hear about the crazy things we talk about (Cindy and her Space Monkeys!). Want to see who cooking club really is (there's pictures!). All of that is now available. . .yeah cooking club!

How did I piss off the weather gods?

I have this theory. . . weather in Colorado and Wyoming is controlled by our own weather gods. I think that these gods take the form of gossipy teenage girls (not unlike the one's I deal with in the middle and high schools I work in). They are affected by the trends of the day. They are very finnicky and change their minds at a moment's notice. Most characteristic of the teenage girl- they do things on a whim, often apparently just to piss you off.




This weekend, the weather gods were not smiling on me and my dad as we tried to enjoy the last weekend of summer with a camping trip to the mountains just across the Wyoming border. The drive up on Saturday was lovely. . . we had blue skies with pretty white clouds. We set up camp and everything seemed peachy. Then in the middle of the night it started to rain. It rained all day on Sunday, basically ruining our plans to hike (although the clouds broke just enough for us to drive around and see the mountains a bit.) It looked like it might clear up on Monday morning. . . then the clouds came back and (in true first day of fall fashion) it started to snow. We packed up camp and made a hasty retreat, deciding that being cold and wet was just not that much fun anymore. Not exactly the best camping trip ever- but I spent some good quality time with my dad, so that's ok. And next time I'll check the weather report, not that that will probably make any difference (spiteful and pernickety weather gods we have here!)

bad tv and weekend plans

Why would they cancel a great show like Veronica Mars in favor of the putrid swill that is Gossip Girl? I have no good answer for that. . . except that the fact that since I am deprived of good tv, I watch the bad tv anyway.

Anyway, my plans for the weekend: big Flobots show on Friday(several of my constant musical crushes) all those in Denver should attend. Seriously. And then camping in Wyoming with my dad.

BFF with music

Hi, my name is Becca and I'm a musicianaholic.

I was thinking about the trends of my love life lately and I have discovered a very disturbing thing: I am addicted to musicians. A survey of my most recent boyfriends and crushes proves that Becca prefers musicians to all others by a more than 2 to 1 basis. In fact all of Becca's most serious boyfriends were musicians and the only recent crush that Becca has had that was not a musician was in fact an actor (who sometimes sings on stage) and so that almost counts. I will stop talking about myself in the third person now.

I don't really know what it is about the musicians that I love so much- it is not the rock star thing, none of them are famous (yet). It does have something to do with performance, but I needn't have heard them perform to be in love with them (although it helps). Maybe it is the intensity of musicians (and other artists) that I love. Maybe it is just that they are really good looking. Really good looking and talented- deadly combination.

Knowing that I have a problem is the first step on the road to recovery. Wait. Screw that, I like musicians and there is nothing that will change that!

Anyway, my latest musical crush is this guy. Not only is he an amazing singer/songwriter/guitarist, he also has amazing curly hair. And it turns out that we were destined to be best friends. Let me explain. Rob came up to camp a few weeks ago to perform with the flobots in a Sacred Slam. It was an amazing night full of music and poetry and magic. Before the show, I started to talk to Rob. I knew that I had seen him around several times in the past few months- it turns out that we have a lot of mutual friends. In addition to the flobots (MacKenzie actually played on his latest album), he knows people at Buntport and a ton of my friends, like he went to high school with one of my good friends. But I was sure that I knew him from somewhere else. It turns out that we almost worked together at a movie theatre in high school. He stopped working at the theatre at about the same time that I started. I continued to work there for five years, he went on to be a fabulous musician. It was destiny. BFF. That's what we are now. Who can argue with destiny. I know that I don't intend to.

End of summer-joys of subbing

Well, even though the season doesn't officially end until the 21st, I think that summer is pretty much done for me. Part of me is glad that the crazy summer is coming to an end. I feel as if I am still trying to catch up on sleep. I do have a lot to do over the next few months (getting ready for Peace Corps and all) but I don't have a lot of responsibility when it comes to work and that is weird. I'm a (just a little) over achiever, so without work to do, I have been volunteering a lot. Anyway, today was the first day that really felt like fall- I had to wear a sweat shirt when I came into school and the building was not as unbearably hot as it has been the past few weeks.

I am subbing now. . . oh the joys of being a fake teacher. Here is what I like about being a substitute teacher:

1) I get to read a lot- most teachers leave pretty simple things for me to do, often there is a movie or some sort of work sheet involved. I also get to read (or do my own thing) during planning periods and lunch.

2) I mostly sub at DCIS- so far this semester I have only been at one school, DCIS, which is great for so many reasons. I know most of the kids, so I don't get that "you are just a sub and we can do whatever we want" type attitude. I can also be relatively sure that I will have a fairly clear lesson plan and something to actually do, rather than the normal "let's watch a nature movie that has nothing to do with what these kids are learning" type lesson. Even with those good points, I still get the occasional little shits that bug me and don't do anything that I ask. I have a feeling that this is how they act for their regular teachers though, so I don't worry about it too much.

3) If I am every feeling crappy, tired or just plain lazy I can turn down a job. I can also turn down jobs from schools I don't like, teachers I don't like or in subjects I don't like. I have to be careful to sub a certain amount of days a week to make enough money for rent (which is the point, after all) but other than that, I can just say no.

4)I have no responsibilities at the end of the day. After I sign my daily report and leave the building, that's it. I have no homework or papers to grade, no lesson plans to make, no parents to call. That means that I can go home and watch TV, go to movies, go to cooking club/majong/concerts etc. with little or no guilt about what I SHOULD be doing instead.

5) I can be the NICE sub. We all remember that sub. The one you were happy to get because they were actually a better teacher than your regular teacher and they were always nice to you. I try not to be the mean sub. Or the crying sub. I'm the young sub, which I usually liked better than the old sub. It's funny how many times the kids tell me "I like you better than so and so." I don't take it too seriously (just like I don't take kids telling me I'm mean too seriously) but it is kind of funny.

Highlight for the day: three of the seventh graders that I know from last year told me that when I go into the Peace Corps they want to come and visit me. . . but since the tickets will be really expensive they will only buy one ticket and the other two will stow away in her suitcase. Cute.

Nomination!

I had my interview with the Peace Corps on Tuesday and recieved a nomination to go to Eastern Europe in February to work in Non-profit (NGO) Advising. This of course means very little until I actually get my invitation that will tell me the exact date and country that I will be going to. Anyone with experiance with the Peace Corps knows that everything is tentative, basically up to the moment that I leave and that there are still several steps to go through. So. . . provided that everything goes well, I will be leaving in 6 months. In the meantime, I am enjoying being almost unemployed and looking forward to the flexibilty and fun (yes, I have a strange idea of fun) of being a substitute teacher. Eastern Europe, here I come!

super fun in south dakota

I love road trips. Technically this is the first time that I have gone on a road trip that didn't involve at least one member of my family. I even drove to Vegas with my parents. Fun. But this trip to South Dakota was different. Me, three crazy Israelis and my Mazda.

We embarked late. . . 7PM Denver time and it was raining. It rained most of the way across Nebraska. Ilil asked what we were missing by driving across Nebraska at night. I informed her that all we were missing was a lot of corn and that we could see that on the way back. Luckily of the three Israelis, one had an international driver's license and could almost drive a stick. For some reason many people seemed to doubt her driving ability. I admit that I was one of them. She did a great job though. I slept though most of her driving, but as far as I know, we didn't hit anything of consequence. We arrived in Wall, South Dakota at around 2:30 AM. What is there to do in Wall at 2:30 in the morning? Not much. But we didn't really know where we were going. Luckily our friendly neighborhood National Park Ranger volunteered to give us a police escort to the place that we were staying. Good thing too, because I don't think I would have been able to find it during the middle of the day much less the middle of the night. We narrowly missed hitting a deer on our way. Stan was not so lucky and damaged his car quite a bit.

Advice- don't go driving in the middle of the night in the middle of South Dakota. There's a lot of deer and they like to run out in front of cars. Suicidal, I think.

After a few hours of sleep, we got up to see the Badlands. When you drive into the Badlands National Park, it is kind of like driving onto the moon. Seriously, I think this is what the moon would look like. There are slightly more plants than I imagine the moon would have, but not much. It was also hotter than the moon. But beautiful in that other worldly moon sort of way. This part of the park is known for it's many fossils of all sorts of strange animals. We stopped at the Big Pig Dig, where there found, you guessed it, a big pig. That's just fun to say Big Pig Dig, Big Pig Dig. . . hee hee. . .

Advice- If you go to a National Park, make friends with the park people. Not only did we have a place to stay, we also got a private (free) tour of the park. In a government vehicle. Did I mention it was free? And that we got to go behind the scenes?

The second day in the Badlands we went into the South Unit of the park. This part of the National Park lies entirely within the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation. There are much less people in this part of the park- less roads, less amenities. Just as much beauty. We also went out of the park to see the site of the Wounded Knee Masacre. The ranger that we were with was a little bit nervous to take us there. . . even though he is Native American, any one that works for the government is looked upon with suspicion by the people there.

The highlight of the trip (and possibly the coolest thing that I've ever gotten to do in America) was the next day when we went to Mt. Rushmore. We had to get up at 4:00 in the morning to make it (in the dark) to Mt. Rushmore by 7:00. We had to be at Mt. Rushmore at 7:00 because we were getting a private tour of the heads. Yes, I got to walk on George Washington's head. Only a few people get to go to the top. Being with three Israelis really tested my knowledge of American History. . . "why are these president's here? why is this important?" I think that I did a good job of answering. . . I could be a park ranger :)
I'll tell you this- it's not like the movies. There is (as far as I saw) no secret room behind the eyes. But there was an amazing view. And it was damned cool to get to go up there.

After Rushmore, we headed on home. . . Nebraska was much hotter and just as boring during the day. It was a short trip, but good. Yeah road trips. Yeah South Dakota. Yeah.

Home. . .

"You know that point in your life when you realize that the house you grew up in isn't really your home anymore? All of a sudden, even though you have a place you put your shit, that idea of home is gone. It just sort of happens one day and you can never really get it back. It's like you feel homesick for a place that doesn't even exist. . ."
-Zach Braff, Garden State


I have been thinking a lot about the concept of "home" lately. At the beginning of staff training Ian had us do a writing exercise about home. It got me to thinking how much my own home doesn't feel like home. . .

I know that I am ready to leave home because when I do go away I don't miss it. I miss the stuff sometimes. . . a warm shower, a soft bed, clean clothes. I could say that I miss my parents but I would be lying, I think. I miss my sister and my nieces, but I miss them when I am home anyway. . .

During the closing circle of the program I said basically the following: I have had a really hard summer and a really crazy year. It's not just that this program feels like home to me (although that is true) it is about who I am when I am here. I am the best version of myself. Everyone in the circle makes me a better person and I hope that I helped make them better people too. I am myself only when I am at home. . .

I don't think that my parent's house will ever really feel like home to me again. This year has been hard because I feel so uncomfortable here. This isn't home. . . but I'm not sure if I know at all what home is anymore. I don't know what home looks like or smells like or tastes like. But it isn't this. This is not my home.

I love the mountains, I love the rolling hills
I love the flowers, I love the daffodils
I love the fireside, when all the lights are low
Boomdiada, Boomdiada, Boomdiada, Boomdiada

We are up in the mountains, which is great. The situation in Denver was not ideal. . . we were in a basement of a church, and while we appriciate that free space, it was hot and cramped. For three days. Hot and cramped. But now we are up at our camp and there is lots of space (and also lots of cute little animals and dirt, yeah!) Camp itself is going OK, but you never really know until the end how things will turn out. There have been some administrative things. . . the worst part is that since it is such a short program, by the time we figure out what we are doing and get into a groove, camp is over. Either way, I'm looking forward to the next week and all the work that can get done.

they have arrived

The participants have arrived. Sometimes during staff training it feels like the participants will never get here. We are preparing and waiting and planning and waiting. The staff has managed to bond and grow together in ways that didn't seem possible just a few days ago. But now our dynamics will change- it's about the participants now. . . the staff time is over. Feelings going into the program- excited and nervous, but confident.

Other stuff: I had coffee with Nichole on Saturday. We spent more than an hour catching up and making small talk and completely avoiding talking about what happened last summer. Finally in the car after we left the restaurant we started getting down to it. I'm not going to go into details about it, but there were some tears. Basically, I'm still not sure how I feel, but I have to give her credit for reaching out and I know I missed her this year. Does that mean I forgive her. . . maybe not completely. Maybe it means that my eyes are a little bit more open. We agreed to try to talk. We'll see how that goes.

Kickball update: Science for the People played our last regular season game on Sunday against the Drinking 40's. Unsurprisingly, we lost 25-7. We are, however playing in the post season. . . look for us to go up against Always Drunk (who really live up to their name) in the Best of the Worst right before the championship. It might actually be a game that we can win.

Sleep deprivation is fun!

staff training is intense. . . Harry Potter is great, I'm almost finished. . . these two things combine to shorten my normal amount of sleep. Tired does not even describe it anymore. . .

end of one, beginging of another

For the past six weeks I've been working at a summer day camp for middle school students. For me, camp had a rough start. I didn't really want to do the camp, I didn't think we were ready to do it. Really, we weren't ready to do it. The first week was kind of a disaster- my ipod got stolen, I felt miserable, we weren't prepared and the staff fought the whole week. After the first week, things got a lot better. I relaxed and we were more ready. We had some fun field trips and great guest artists. The kids had fun, I think. We finished it all off with three days in the mountains; horseback riding, swimming in cold lakes and hot springs, chopping wood, scary stories and s'mores. Camping was great. It was actually a lot less stressful than I had expected and I had a lot of fun. From week one to week six there was an amazing turn around. I'm happy we did the camp (even though I still think we weren't really ready for it). Today was my last day at the YESS Institute. It was actually kind of sad. I have never left a job before I hated it before. Usually when you quit your job, it is because you can no longer imagine ever setting foot in that building ever again. With this job, I expect that I will be back to volunteer and visit. I really didn't hate my job. Weird.

Tonight was the first night of staff training for the next chapter: Building Bridges for Peace. BBFP is a program that I have been involved with off and on for the past 9 years. After a two summer hiatus, I am returning as a counselor for the third time. Tonight was great. People I haven't seen in years: got to see them. People that I met for the first time, but I'm sure that they will be great friends: got to see them. I'm so excited for camp. . . it's been too long.

Other things: I saw Nancy Drew the other day. . . the critics have no idea what they are talking about. It was great. It was exactly like the books and seeing it with Wendy and Amanda was awesome. Next: Serial Novels Picnic- get your bobby socks ready!

into the woods

I'm off to the woods. I'm excited about going camping. I'm nervous about going camping with 20 middle school students. Have you ever been camping with middle school students? I don't think I have since I was actually in middle school. I think I would be more excited if I was feeling better, but I'm still a bit sick (sore throat now), and the prospect of non-stop pre-teen action for three days . . . well it's not for everyone. Wish me luck. Pictures in three days.

Kickball update: score of today's game- Tag Team- 17, Science- 2. Even though that looks like a blowout, it was actually a really fun game and we played really well. It is the first time ever that we have lost to TT by less than 20 and we actually scored, so we avoided shutout. Go us.

#23 likes #101

The weekend was a smorgasbord of parties and events. The mid-summer party hop began on Friday with Iyabo's birthday and continued all day Saturday.

My first event was a baby shower for Deegan and Brandi. Deegan is my mom's best friend's son. The baby shower was lovely- garden party brunch, kids playing in the pool out back, adults chatting in the shade. The only strange thing about it is that Deegan and Brandi weren't actually there. . . because they live here. We passed around phones and spoke to the parents to be. All of the gifts will be packed in suitcases and sent down when friends and family make the trip down to Costa Rica over the next few months. The best thing about this baby shower. . . no games. :)

After that (and a nap) I went to the opening of my friend Jaime's design show. Kagen had a puzzle box in the show and there was lots of fun, funky furniture and other functional pieces. Design can be fun but it can also be a bit strange. I love to look at all of this stuff, but I think I would probably have a hard time buying things. I have the same problem with a lot of art. I love it, I really do, I just often have a hard time imagining that I could spend several hundred (or thousand) dollars on a painting. This is my dream: someday, I will have enough money to buy art.

After the design show I party hopped over to birthday parties for Aaron and then Emily. I finished the night up with a stop at Hermans for the Flobots. If I were a Flobot, I would be #23. #23 likes #101. He might just be my new secret crush.

Today: Science for the People vs. Tag Team. TT is undeafeated and currently in first place. Since we have very little chance of winning, our plan for the day is to BBQ and try to get really drunk. This may be my last kickball game depending on my camp schedule for the rest of the summer. I'm going to make it a good one. BDK baby.

The return of. . .

Cooking Club-

after a month off, cooking club returned with a vengence. . . and video games. We cooked up fun themed like our favorite pastimes- I made Mario Mushroom Tarts. We played Mrs. Pac Man and Space Invaders and gorged ourselves on food that looked like qbert and pac man as well as other mushroom treats. We also played on Goodrich's Wii. I think I love the Wii. In addition to cool games and realistic sports and random good times, you can make your own little video game person, a Mii. Honestly, we had as much fun making Miis for everyone in Cooking Club as we did actually playing the games.


and Twin Peaks (also with fun food!)

Thanks to Rick and Margi for making log lady cake.

Yummier than actual logs! Pitch gum (actually star burst) included.

under the weather

Even though it is nearly 100 degrees and my face feels hot, I have chills. I can't breathe through my nose and breathing through my mouth makes it dry and sore. Every time I stand up I feel dizzy and probably look a bit drunk. The pounding in my head just won't stop. That's right, I have it. . . the summer cold.

It came upon me last night while flickin it up at the art museum. By the time I got home, my nose was sufficiently stuffed and I didn't get any sleep. I feel like it is always worse to be sick in the summer. In the winter, at least, I don't feel so bad about bundling up with a hot cup of tea and a good book or some bad TV. But right now, in the middle of the fun season, all I want to do is sleep all day and all night and not leave the house. "There is so much to do!" my brain tells me, as I contemplate missing my meeting tonight and skipping the outdoor movie fun. "You'll feel better if you rest," my body tells me, forcing me to collapse on the couch. I went home early from work today (camp planning) hoping to be feeling better as soon as tomorrow. If I don't feel better tomorrow, it will really suck since we are taking the kids river rafting. Not too fun when you feel like shit. Because of that, I think I will just stay in tonight. I'm almost done watching the first season of Heroes and that sounds pretty good to my body and my brain right now.

It feels like Sunday, but with fireworks!

My fourth was great, I spent it with Mica's family- her aunt lives a few blocks away from the stadium that has the big explosions. Ohhhh, pretty lights. We walked over to the park to get a better view. The park was full of amateur blowing things up and lighting things on fire. While I really do enjoy fireworks, living in the hot and dry part of the country that I live in (yes, Denver is a desert!), people playing with fire always scares me a bit. . . Anyway, good solid 4th- bbq, crazy family (even if it wasn't my own) and fire. Fun.

feel the burn

Different kinds of burn I am currently feeling:

a. sunburn
b. emotional burnout
c. fried brain
d. overall hotness (temperature wise)
e. all of the above

I'm feeling burned out and burned. It is hot. I am tired. I'm tired of the complaining. I have never met kids that complain so much. No matter what activity we choose they have something to say about it. They never give us suggestions for what we should do, but whatever we are doing is the wrong thing. This holiday came at just the right time. Two days off. Then two more weeks. Just two more weeks. Only two more weeks. I just need to make it through two more weeks.

Ok, so now you can stop asking

My application is in. For the past two years, I have been "working" on my application to the Peace Corps. PC is something that I have always wanted to do, literally since I was four years old. My parents are RPCV (Returned Peace Corps Volunteers) and have been involved in the PC association in Denver since before I was born. When I was a kid, we would go to meetings and my name tag would say "Rebecca, Future Volunteer: Location unknown 2004-2006" 2004 being the year I should have graduated from college (if I hadn't continued to get my MA). So I'm a few years late, but I'm finally following through. This is the right time for me to go. My job ends in August and although I could have extended my position another year, I don't think that this is exactly what I want to be doing. I'm not married, don't have a boyfriend to keep me here. I have been living with my parents for a year and have saved a significant amount of money. There is no reason not to go. I'm ready. I hope that they are ready for me.

Maybe he's just not that into you . . .

Ok, when you ask a (drunk) guy to make out with you and he says no. . . maybe he's just not that into you, right? I've never read the book, but I think I get the jist just from the title. I'm not sure what else I can do. I've always been a pretty big flirt. It has gotten me in trouble on more than one occasion. But lately my flirting skills seem to be diminished. I've lost confidence, maybe. Or I've lost "attractiveness". Whatever the case, I don't feel like my flirting is doing any good. Even when I basically give him an open invitation, he doesn't kiss me. How clear can I be? I want to make out with you. Nothing. Maybe he's just not that into me. The question is, why not????

my newest addiction is MAD. . .

I can blame my friend Wendy. . . meet Ms. Veronica Mars P.I.




My favorite episode title in season 1 is M.A.D. It stands for Mutally Assured Destruction. You can ask anyone in my class this year and they will tell you that MAD is one of my favorite International Political Theory terms. Basically it means that if we drop a bomb that would destroy Russia, they would drop a bomb that would destroy us, thereby assuring our mutual destruction. MAD is the crazy (mad) idea that if we have enough weapons, then no one would dare attack us because it would mean their own destruction as well. The kids in my class will also tell you that I am fond of using high school as an analogy for international politics. . . you better believe that if I teach this class again they are going to be watching part of the MAD episode (in which Veronica creates a "weapon" that would destroy a boy if he released the incriminating sex video he has of his ex). Hmmmm . . . I think I'm addicted.

You can call me firecracker

Tennis anyone?

The third annual Mixed Drinks, Mixed Doubles Mixer was a huge success. While the tournament itself fell apart after the first round and I'm pretty sure that there was no winner, everyone had fun, got drunk and hit some balls. As the reining champs, Kagan and I had a lot to live up to this year. We of course failed misserably to live up to those expectations and lost our first two matches. We redeemed ourselves slightly by winning the third match. This late victory, of course made no difference since the tournament had devolved into a drunken free for all.

Gail, Simone and Heidi made up a great new game called Bomabardment. Physically more challenging then tennis the way we play it, the point of the game is to hit as many balls to the other side of the court as fast as possible. If all the balls are on the opponents side, you are awarded a point. Extra points are awarded if you hit a ball over the fence (a "home run"). This game is best played with at least three balls and at least four people. It is also extremely entertaining after a few cocktails.

Thank you to Ewen for bringing the tennis fun. Next event- The Back Nine Golf Tourney.
Kickball update: Science for the People- 3, Shitkickers- 23. One of those points is mine in the ninth. Go me. You can call me firecracker.

First day of summer

I'm not even going to talk about last week. Let's just say that it sucked and leave it at that. Coming home from Maine was rough. But last week is over and this week has been much better.

Yesterday we took the camp kids to Water World. I now have my first official sunburn of the summer. What that means is that parts of me are unevenly sore. I never seem to get sunburned in a overall fashion. Mostly my sunburns are a result of uneven sunscreen application. What that means is that right now I am splotchily red and tan. Over the next few days, some of the burn will fade nicely, some of the burn with peel grossly and I will be left with lots of strange lines. I never really feel like it's summer until I get a bit burned. Over the next few months I expect to get burned again (especially with all the time I'm spending outside with the kids). It is now officially summer.

journaling

So some of my thoughts recorded in my journal over the week:

6/2/07- My first thoughts of Maine- You can smell the water. You can feel it all around you. The air was cool, so the humidity is not either oppressive of bitter. It feels like a warm hand enclosing you in the mist. You can feel the water seeping into your skin. Everything is green and thick. Forests that could go on forever. The lilacs bloom later here. In Denver they are done flowering, but here they are in full fragrant bloom . . .

About the conference so far- it is clear that I need to leave my cynicism at the door and be enthusiastic, or not only will I not fit in, I won't have any fun.

Note: It rained for the first three days that I was there. Then the weather cleared up and became gorgeous- cool and lovely. The only problem, that's when the mosquitoes came out.

6/3/07 (my birthday)- Singing at 6:30am. A great way to start my 25th year. I had a lovely conversation with Missy about kids and drugs and past lives. Sometimes I think I can feel other lives in me. Quieter lives- I was thinking about my personalities. Maybe my Gemini duality is a force of a remembered past life. Maybe not.

6/4/07- I had a wonderful birthday- I got sung to at lunch and dinner. It has helped people learn my name "Hey, you're the birthday girl!" Plus I got cake.

6/5/07- gallery opening. working in a gallery is hard work. nuf said. goodnight.

6/7/07- I went on a boat trip yesterday. There were no whales as we had been promised. In fact, when we asked the captain if we might see whales, he laughed. We did see a lot of birds, which is fitting. I've never felt any connection to birds really . . . but I have been feeling drawn towards the imagery of birds lately. In my dreams and waking life- birds. Anyway, we also saw seals, which was cool. I didn't really get sea sick, although I did get car sick on the bus down to the water. Silly, eh?

Note: I have been having dreams about birds lately and explored this in a dream/art workshop.

6/7/07- I don't think the band had ever seen anything like it. I know I never had . After three encores, the band finally started to pack up their equipment. The crowd had been wonderful- first, they fed the band dinner (something else that doesn't happen too often) then they started to dance. Slowly at first a few people braved the floor. By the break, the floor was packed and the people were loving it. There was an unpretentiousness to the dance. Moving freely and openly with their whole body. Young and old spinning and jumping around each other. Freely, openly, feeling every beat in their feet, legs, arms, heads and torsos. They danced together and apart, through and around, up and down the dance floor. The first encore was expected, even the second was not unprecedented. They relented a third time, but could do so no longer and put away the drums, guitars, piano and saxophone. But then it started. Someone found a drum- out of no where, there appeared the accordion. They chanted nonsense, stomped and clapped. They continued to turn and jump and cheer. The spontaneous music came not from the band but from the dancers, from the dance itself. They had the dance inside of them and even the band had never seen anything like it.

6/8/07- To sleep, to dream. Or, to not sleep and to not dream. In a room full of spirits and other sleeping forms I did not sleep. I strained for sleep and in that straining I struggled and in that struggle I lay awake. When you try too hard for something it invariably slips through your fingers. Now up in the loft, high above the multitude of people engrossed in the poets reading on stage- here I doze, here I dream. With the sitar as my soundtrack I go into a trance so that the dream and life are now one in the same. I have made a nest here- surrounded myself in warmth and comfort. I sleep now and the poetry enters my dreams and makes me live the poetry.

A word mumbled in the night: "Sandwiches"
"The kind you eat?" "Of course, are there any other kind?" And back to sleep.

Note: I didn't sleep much during the week, even when during an all night workshop about dreams, sleep was the main idea. Since I've been home I've been dreaming a lot.

6/8/07 (still)- The collective sigh "Ahh" "Ohh" when the poem is done and no one knows if they should laugh or cry or clap or cheer, but they just sigh. "Ahh" "Ohh" We feel together the poem and let the sound escape from our lips almost involuntarily. "Ahh" "Ohh" is enough to express how we are all feeling.

6/9/07- You would have laughed- because it really is silly. 100 people holding hands, chanting, dancing, circling through and around each other. You would have laughed because it was almost too beautiful to not laugh, not cry. This would have been funny as a parody if it were not so true. You would have laughed, but I could not laugh. Instead I sang and turned and let the remembering enter me. I could have laughed, but I did not laugh and I'm glad.

6/10/07- We painted our faces blue. I don't think the kids understood exactly why we were doing it. They ended up having to go to bed before the talk even started. Why we were doing it didn't matter quite as much as the fact that it was fun. When is it not fun to paint your face blue and lay on the floor to listen to stories. We were honoring Krishna; but we were really just having random fun.

6/11/07- We held hands and chanted. . . "Good where I am, good where I'm going to be" we started to circle around. Passing now familiar faces that just a week ago seemed strange. As the circle got closer the chant grew softer. Soon we were in one gigantic group hug. I hope no one is claustrophobic. I realized that I was no longer standing on my own but being held up, supported by the circle.

Small engine repair. . .

"Learn the Arts, Double the Madness!"

Ok, so I've been home from Maine for almost a week now. First, let me just say that the conference was awesome and Maine is gorgeous. My birthday was great- I couldn't have asked to spend my 25th in a more beautiful place with nicer people. Being in this great place with a whole bunch of artists and writers really got my poetic juices flowing. I wrote a lot. Being in the woods and not working allowed me the time and space that I needed to write. Not having my computer with me meant that I had to write the old fashioned way- in my journal.



Anyway, first, about the conference itself:

The Conference on the Great Mother and the New Father (GMC) was stared by Robert Bly over 30 years ago. My understanding is that the conference was started for the purpose of gathering together talented and interested men and women to take a soulful journey together through mythology, storytelling, music, art, poetry and community. It's not really a conference, but more of a summer camp for adults. The theme of this year's conference was Sufism and particularly focused on the poetry of Rumi and Hafez. Right now Robert Bly is in the process of translating Hafez (which is one reason that the conference focused on the Sufis). Before this, I had never heard of either of these poets and actually knew very little about Sufism. You may have heard of Whirling Dervishes. . . but like me had no idea what a dervish was or why they were whirling. Well, now I know. I think.

In addition to the Sufi stuff (which was actually only a small part of the conference) there were a ton of poets, both young and old, artists, music and dancing. My favorite poet was probably Tony Hoagland. His poems were funny but heartfelt and although I don't usually buy poetry, I bought his book. . . I also particularly loved Gioia Timpanelli (pronounced Joy-a), who is this amazing storyteller and the lovely background music provided by David Whetstone on sitar and Marcus Wise on tabla. Do you know how great it is to hear a lovely story being told or poem being read with a sitar? Well, let me just tell you that it is great. The sitar adds this dreamy, almost surreal quality to everything . . . I'll add some thoughts from my journal soon . . .

I'm off to the North

I'll be in Maine for 8 days for the Great Mother Conference. I am not bringing my computer. I am going to enjoy nature. Please don't call me unless it's an emergancy. I need this break from the constant wired state. It is possibly the worst time in the world for me to go away, and I don't care, which surely means that it's a good time for me to go. I will bring my journal and write in it. I will talk about my trip when I get home.

Bunnette Dreams. . .

Do you know what a Bunnette is? Neither did I until a few weeks ago when my friend Liz asked for help making this video. Apparently they are the girls that stand behind the guys eating the hot dogs at the big hot dog eating contest at Coney Island on the 4th of July and count the dogs eaten. There is a contest to be one of these girls. Liz really wants to be one. The funny part- Liz is a vegetarian.

Here is the video


Yes, that is me both eating cheese balls while waiting for a bus and eating 7 (vegitarian) hot dogs. A secret of film making. . . I didn't really eat 7 hot dogs, but I'm still the champ!

I'll let you know when the voting begins so that we can make sure that Liz gets to have her dream of being a Bunnette.

As the year ends. . .

I thought I was done with this stuff when I finished college. . .

Becomeing a teacher means that once again, the end of may becomes a bitter sweet time of goodbyes and good lucks. The seniors graduating this year are among the best I've ever seen. They are mature and thoughtful and caring and intellegent and all around pretty good kids. So here's to the class of '07. Good luck in college and life beyond.

Okay, enough mushy stuff. Some of the teachers went out for a drink after graduation the other night. My weirdness at drinking with my former teachers (as I now teach at the school I attended not so many years ago) including the principal, has lessened over the past year, but not completely gone away. I remember the first FAC (Friday Afternoon Club) that I went to last year. I had been subbing for about two months and one Friday when I was at West, a few of the teachers asked if I wanted to go out for a beer. I get to the bar and this wave of self doubt washes over me. Even though I am 24 years old and I work with these people ever day as an equal. . . they were my teachers in high school. I mean, can you imagine drinking with your high school principal? Changing roles (from student to teacher) is hard. Convincing the teachers to think of me not as a 17 year old is even harder. I have had to prove myself a lot. This felt a little bit like graduation for me too. I got to wear a robe and walk in with the teachers- the kids even call me Ms. Lipman and I don't mind. Growing up? Something like that.

P.S. It's true- the teachers go out after school and talk about the kids; who we love , who we hate; who we want to throw out the second story window during 7th period. Teachers really are the worst gossips in the world- next to high schoolers that is.

just dance it out. . .

Happy birthday to #3 . . .


I had fun yesterday- kickball in the park, bbq with jello shots and beer pong.

B-day party for my friend Rob- he's the one in the bunny suit. Let me tell you, nothing turns me on quite like a man in a bunny suit playing the cowbell. I was feeling pretty good all day until about half way through Rob's party. All of a sudden I was sad. I know what brought it on, but I didn't want it to get to me. Why should it get to me. Why should I let something like that ruin my good night and fun party. So the answer: dance it out. I was tired and I had a headache. Dance it out. Nothing to do about the situation. Dance it out. I danced until the lights came up and the DJ started packing. Just dance it out.

P.S. check out Rob's bands- Lion Sized and b.diddle

And when I say cave. . . I mean Vulva

This is about when the general public stopped watching because it just didn't make any sense at all.



I don't have any idea what is going on. . . and yet I can't look away. I'm glad that I have a fun group of people to watch with- they make the weirdness funny and I don't really care that I don't understand what's going on because we can hear funny stories about Lenny's grandma learning about tea baggin or Rob talk about the difference between Vegan and Carnivore p*ssy. It's a nice change from some of my other (less raunchy) friends. New friends, new addiction. Yeah. :)

"I like you." Why can't I just say that? Why do my words get all tied up and my brain gets stupid and I chicken out like the big fucking stupid shy unconfident loser that I seem to be? So there's this guy. Let's call him "Erik"*. I like him. I have him for some time now. We are friends and I see him on a pretty regular basis. The only time that I have even come close to acting on my feelings was new years this year in which I made out with him at midnight. The only problem was, that it was a big party, I was pretty drunk and I kissed a whole lot of other people too (someday I'll have to tell my grandkids about making out with a boy while in line for the bathroom. . . oh, fun times). When I saw him the next day, he didn't say anything about it and neither did I. It was like it never even happened. There's talking and flirting and that's all great, but at the end of the night it's just "see you later, drive safe." Am I just a complete idiot? No, don't answer that, I already know that I am. Someday I won't be an idiot. Someday I'll say what I feel. Someday.

*names have probably not been changed to protect the innocent

follow that friendship. . .

An update on a developing story:

In May of last year Nichole, my best friend of almost 10 years, moved out of our shared apartment unexpectedly leaving me feeling dazed and confused. She also left me with a bed (that I moved and stored) and no concievable way to pay the rent on my own, forcing me to move back into my parent's house (where I am still living, having decided that saving money on rent was a good thing). I've already talked a bit about this here.

Today I got an e-mail from her. It is almost exactly a year ago that the whole thing went down (she moved out a week and a half after Mother's Day, we had our big blow-out fight about it on May 30.) To sum up the letter, she said that she was thinking about me because my birthday was coming up (two weeks from yesterday) and that she treated me horribly, made mistakes in our friendship and took me for granted. She hopes that I can accept her apology and eventually become friends again.

I don't really know what to think yet. I have been saying all year that I would not make the move. I felt hurt and I wanted her to appologize. So now the ball's in my court, so to speak. I think that I forgive her, but I don't even know what to say to her. I don't know that I want to be friends again and I don't think things can ever go back to the way they were. She says that she misses me. Part of me misses her too, how could I not, after 10 years of friendship. But part of me doesn't miss her. I'll be honest: she is kind of a high maintenence friend. I don't know if I can take her drama right now. I think that I had thought that I had calmed down about this over the past year but maybe I'm still too angry. The one thing I know for sure: I need to do some thinking about what (if anything) I should say to her.

I want to be on a winning team. Just once, I want to be on the championship team. . . the team that makes it to the playoffs. . . the team that wins more than one game a season. It's not really about my team. I love my team. They are great people. They are super nice and super fun to play with. But, sometimes I just want to be on the winning team. In high school, I played soccer all four years. I think we won a couple games when I was a freshmen. During my sophomore year, we didn't even score a goal. All year long. My junior year, I remember the first game that we won. It was a great feeling.

So far this year, we have not won a game. We have actually come pretty close to winning a couple of times. Today was really discouraging. I didn't feel like anyone was really in it. During the game today, I had a few conversations about this issue. One of my friends pointed out that I could join another team; I knew what I was getting in to when I stayed on this team (we only won one game last regular season). True, I knew that they were not the best team in the league, but I felt like we were getting better. In fact, (with the exception of today) we have been playing great, but still just not able to get it together enough for the win. Another friend had a theory: maybe people are not trying as hard as they can because it is easier (mentally) to lose when you don't put all of your heart and soul into it. If you can just make it a joke then it won't hurt so much. I guess I just don't work that way. I'm a really competative person when it comes down to it. But I don't feel like my team is the same. They try, but I don't think that they really want it. I want it. I want to win. I love my team, but just for a moment, I wish I were on the winning team. Is that so wrong?

Score today: Drinkin' 40's- 4 billion, Science for the People-2

I wish I had someone to stay home with. When I stay in and watch movies or whatever by myself, I just feel like a loser. So I wish I had someone to stay home with. And it would be nice to have someone to snuggle too.

Hey there friends. . .

So, I have this great job working with kids. For some reason (I think we may have had one too many margaritas) we decided that it might be a good idea to have a summer camp. Great, execpt that it costs like $10,000 to have a summer camp. That's where you come in.

I'm not expecting big donations. In fact, if each one of my friends gave $20, I would be happy. I know you don't have money (I don't have any either), but seriously this is a good thing. Look at the website. . . you can donate by credit card (and if you are uncomfortable doing that, let me know and I can give you other options). And you can give as little or as much as you like. Thank you in advance.

Hang my curtains . . .

Tonight some of my friends from kickball got together to watch Twin Peaks. We started tonight with the pilot. I was only 8 years old when the series first aired on TV and we were not allowed to watch it in my house. We were also not allowed to watch the Simpsons, Married With Children or just about anything on MTV. Eventually I saw a lot of Simpsons episodes through reruns, I never really wanted to watch Married With Children and I don't feel like I missed too much on MTV in the early '90s. But I have always been a bit curious about Twin Peaks. Not curious enough to go out and rent it, mind you, but curious enough that when Lenny said he was going to do Twin Peaks night at his house, I was pretty excited. So far, we just watched the pilot; we are going to watch two episodes a week until we get all done. So far, a bit strange, but kinda funny in that "did he really just say that" and "what is up with this music" sort of way. I'll let you know how it goes.

Club Club

Cooking Club, Scrabble Club, Mah-jong Club, Story Club, Comic Club, LUPEC (Ladies United for the Preservation of Endangered Cocktails), the Gentlemen's Explorer's Club, Thundersneak (now defunct), Kickball. And now introducing Club Club!!

some of my club activities


















































Message from the Club Club founder:

Hi Everyone!

Get ready for the newest club in town, Club Club! This is by far the way coolest club around and I hope you all can make it! You must be wondering what sort of fun is to be had at the Club Club? It is something you will not want to miss. For our first meeting we will be making clubs. Haven't you always wanted your very own personal club? Clubs are very easy to make.. The only requirement is that one end of a blunt object be slightly more narrow than the other end. This being accomplished you are able to grip it easily with one hand and swing it at stuff. It was suggested the first meeting be held at my woodshop to allow us to easily manufacture our own clubs, but due to the simplicity of making such an item we can meet just about anywhere. If the cavemen did it so can we!

I very much look forward to seeing you all there,

Kagen Schaefer
(founder of Club Club)

P.S.
If we have enough time left over we can decorate our clubs with markers.

rain drops keep falling on my car . . .

The only time that I like rain is when I can sit inside somewhere and listen to it. I don’t like getting wet. I especially don’t like water in my face. But if I can sit on the side of the road or in a parking lot and listen to the rain hitting the car and just close me eyes and breathe the rain. . . oh that’s nice. I also enjoy when it rains and I am camping and I can similarly listen to the rain hitting the tent. I do not like if my stuff gets wet inside the tent, but hearing the rain almost makes up for it. Right now I am sitting in my car getting ready to go to an appointment and listening to the rain. In a minute, I will have to get out of my car and run across the parking lot in the rain (and a little bit of hail). In a moment I will be wet and unhappy, but right now I am content.

Bata- that's Arabic for "duck"

Last night I had a dream that I was a duck. I seemed to be a crime fighting duck (when I woke up, I kept thinking about Darkwing Duck). I don't remember what kind of case I was on, I mostly just remember the feeling that I wasn't like all the other ducks. I think I was like the renegade duck. The duck that just wanted to do my own thing. I didn't want to fly in formation with the other ducks. I wanted to run on the beach. I didn't want to quack like the other ducks. I wanted to talk and solve crime. I wonder what it all means. Quack.

middle school rejection

Apparently, this is a week full of nostalgia for me. I do tend to look back a lot, actually. I’m the type of person that likes to look at pictures and old journals and notes from people I don’t talk to anymore and think about stuff. Mostly how those people all kinda suck. And maybe how much better off I am now that I don’t talk to them anymore. This was the theme for my evening tonight. Buntport is doing this thing called Teacher’s Pet. Basically they have a theme and people have 5 minutes to read something or tell a story or sing a song about the theme. In February the theme was High School Confidential (old journal entries and yearbooks). I read from my journal from after 6th grade about my first kiss with Chris Davenport (he was dreamy . . . sigh . . . ) and then about my prom date (Brian Schoep) who made out with my friend Andrea in her tree-house at the after party. So last night, the theme was break-up notes and rejection letters. The only real break-up note that I have ever received was actually from three of my friends in the 8th grade. It reads like this:

Becca- (my name was actually misspelled Rebbeca on the front of the note- and these were my CLOSE friends!)

We talked it over and decided we don’t like you anymore.

Love, Allison, Erin and Elizabeth K.

[PS] I know it’s mean, but we aren't the only ones who feel this way. Take what you do (like cry to[o] much) into consideration.

That’s it. Two sentences. At the time (as you can imagine) that note rocked my world. When I look back on it now (more than 10 years later) that note actally was a turning point in my life. That note helped me make the final decision about where I was going to go to high school. Up until that point, I was still considering going to South, because that was where all of my friends were going. Of course, when three of your good friends give you a note like this, the idea of going to four more years of school with them becomes a bit less appealing. The great thing is that I went to West, met some great people (including Mitch) who introduced me to more great people (including the Buntporters) so when you think about it, that note led me to being onstage last night reading that note. If they had never written that to me, maybe I would have gone to South, never met anyone and would therefore not have been at Buntport last night to read (plus I wouldn’t have had anything to read). Or maybe (if you believe in fate) I would have found my way to Buntport last night anyway, because that is what was meant to be. Or something. Anyway, so that note changed my life. And even though at the time it was painful (middle school girls are mean!) my life is better for it. I think I am a better person and I think that my life has gone in a better direction. So thank you to Allison, Erin and Elizabeth K, wherever you are, for rejecting me; it’s meant a lot to me

On another note: Shout out to my friends the Flobots (no w). I saw them at Herman's Hideaway on Sat night. You can see them at Red Rocks with the fray on August 6th. Or if you don't want to wait that long (or pay that much) see them at Cervantes Ballroom on May 11. And thanks for always inspiring me guys. I love ya.

You are not alone
You don't have to do this on your own
You won't have to prove yourself to get through this
Don't have to lose yourself to this music
In fact you might find yourself
In a room full of strangers trying to help
In a flashback to the last time you felt
The presence of something divine well, this is
Hip-hop it's not just for profit anymore never was
It's too easy to live your life waiting for change to arrive if it ever does
It will come from a source that's infinite, not from a middle man
You can't measure it's force but you've got a sense of it,
and it's bigger than Hip (hop)

it's larger than life/death

much greater than us/them

One Love Agape One Love Agape