Time Distortion

Yesterday, distracted and affected, I tried to teach a clock reading lesson to the 2nd graders.  I drew a gigantic clock on the board, and we went over how many minutes were between the big numbers. Then I drew the big hand and the little hand and we started telling time. I confidently noted that the big hand tells us what hour we are in and the little hand tells us how many minutes past that hour it is.  And we went on to draw our own clocks, telling time using this paradigm.

One problem, that's not how to read a clock, its the other way around.

I cited this example as a manifestation of my distraction to a girlfriend last night while I wept for unrelated reasons.  She replied that if the 2nd graders only have to worry about you helping them distort time than they are doing pretty well.

Sept 27 Horoscope

Sagittarius – You know, money is not a bad standard to judge your dreams by. I know you like to think you’re above the baser motivations in life. You do it for the love, not the money. You’re in it for the adventure, not the bottom line. I get it. But one of your major evolutionary lessons with Pluto in your money house for the next fifteen years is that your ability to fight for the little guy, soar with the eagles and generally heal the entire world is directly proportional to the resources at your disposal. Put more plainly: how much good can you really do if you’re always struggling to feed yourself and pay the rent? Without resources your dream isn’t a plan, it’s a daydream. So I want to give you permission to reevaluate your life strategy in terms of the bottom line this week. What do you need to change about your thinking in order to allow in the income you need to take that next big step you’re dreaming about?


From D.K. Brainard

Sunday Afternoon Bike Ride

Fixed a flat and took a joy ride:
Bywater apartment hunting
Remnants of past storm's debris
Midcity fly by
City within a city's city
Over the interstate
Broadmoor's jarbled streets
The architects delight
Carrollton and down towards the river
Uptown quietude bends at the water's edge
A straight shot down to town
Garden District, Warehouse, Arts to CBD
No hands riding Bourbon
Eighteen miles round trip

Flying home

Last night, I met a guy who works for a bike magazine. He and his marketing people were coming down here to NOLA to give away 30 bikes to people who wrote essays about 'Why having a bike will change my life' and also donate bikes to an elementary school. They are going to do the give aways on the steps of City Hall. He also told me that he was able to take a bike ride today so I told him to go to City Park.  I told him 'thank you' for donating bikes to my city and he seemed really confused why I would be thanking him. 

Isn't it so amazing how much is happening at any given moment, I'm so glad I eavesdropped on his phone conversation with his parents, I wouldn't have ever known that such generosity was unfolding...it happens so much in the empty spaces <3

Summer Vacation - Chicagoland

The next afternoon I was rolling my way through the Hudson Valley, to start the next leg of my voyage.  Chicago-bound.  Blissful and sore, I happily rested on my way to my family.  A particularly popular route, this train was noticeably more full than the New Orleans-New York train. I sat next to a teenage boy traveling with his parents. An American teenager through and through, annoyed to be still dependent on his parents yet asserting his independence through blaring headphones, I welcomed his disinterest in my story so that I could focus on recharging myself after such an eventful weekend.

Reaching Chicago a mere 45 minutes behind schedule, astounded, I gratefully climbed into Jenelle’s car.  We got breakfast and continued to gush about the wedding.  Everyone was out of the house when I arrived at midday to my family’s house.  The adults at work and the kids at camp, I made myself comfortable preparing for the force of the combined enthusiasm of an 11 and 7 year old.

I hung out with my niece and nephew for a week, reconnecting with them everyday after camp.  My mother found a walking tour book of Chicago. We amended that by driving the suggested routes. Wicker Park, Bucktown, Old Town and the Gold Coast neighborhoods all had beautiful architecture and all proved to be uniquely important to the overall development of the city.  I saw my sister and brother-in-law rarely through my visit because of their work schedules.  However, I did manage to bike throughout the city.  One of my bike trips was to the pier where the Aquarium, Planetarium and Field Museum are to see Jenelle’s favorite view of the city sky-line.  Another of my bike trips was to Wrigleyville where Jenelle, her college friend – Eric, our rez roommate – Heather, and I met for dinner.  I probably biked over 20 miles of the city’s pristine bike lanes.

My mother and I also took a drive to Evanston on one of her afternoon’s off from work.  We headed along the lake, admiring the gorgeous Americana classic mansions of Chicago suburbia, and further along into the town of Willette in which a Ba’hai Temple stood.  At first look, I thought it was a Jewish Temple.  Something about the lettering and the apostrophes, it looked like it could be Hebrew.  But as we toured the grounds, I discovered a brand new religious ethos that I had no concept of existing prior to taking that drive that day.  There was something very magnetic about the Temple’s presence. It drew me in.  There is a visitor center in which many questions are addressed about the ethos of the practitioners of Ba’hai.  Apparently the central tenants of this philosophy focuses on the acceptance of all beings on earth as one tribe of many.  That all religious thought - from Buddhism to Christianity to any other religion in existence – are right, they all lead to the one truth of a higher power.  The placards with interracial, inter-age, inter-sex couples stated that Ba’hais seek to end world poverty and work for global equality of standards for human rights.  The ideas really spoke to me.  I couldn’t figure out why I never heard of this group previously.  I also couldn’t figure out why, of all places, this glorious temple - with pristine lawns shaped like flower pedals encompass the structure drawing the circular energy into the center and up through the dome of the Temple – is in suburban Chicago.  And on top of that, the Temple was built with only contributions from the parishioners, no political or economic affiliations.  Who are these benefactors, so wealthy, so focused on peace and eradication of world poverty, and why does this seem so underground.

In the visitor center, I bought a book explaining the history of Ba’hai through stories of its prophet.  It started feeling close to a cult so I retracted. But there is a Ba’hai group in New Orleans and I got their contact information so I might sniff them out down here.

Jenelle arrived in Chicago to her mother stating that she is planning a surprise birthday party for her.  Tim Ritz, Eric, Heather and Pete, her siblings, and Matt were all in on the surprise.  Pete and Heather were out of town for Heather’s sister’s wedding.  Matt was by chance in town from NY.  Tim Ritz had just been in Brooklyn still convinced that I stole a taxi the night before the wedding. Eric and Jenelle went to Rutgers together and he lives in Chicago.  The surprise happened at Mickey’s Pub and I went to the 4200 block of Clarke instead of the 2400 block.  I was an hour and half late.  No one picked up their phones.  Then my mother did, and she began directing me to Mickey’s Pub.  Mid-way through my frantic disgust of being lost, sitting at a stop light I saw a biker get doored.  I said Mom I just saw a woman get hit by a car door.  Thud.  It was awful, one minute she was upright, the next she was on the ground. Thud. I heard it from the 50 or so feet I was away from the scene.  I stopped being up tight about being late for Jenelle’s party.  The biker got up, she looked a bit shaken up.  She wore her helmet and she didn’t look like she was bleeding but she would enjoy some really nasty bruising.  She was up like a champ, her bike was a bit mangled.  I continued on Clarke hanging up with my mom and shaking off the amplified sound of the car hitting the bike and the woman hitting the ground.  It was all too close to home since I fear the day that happens to me.

The last night in Chicago, my family went to the dog beach.  I love when we all do something together.  It happens rarely these days but feeling all of us together makes me really happy.  The dog beach is probably one of the happiest places on earth.  The pure joy and glee that dogs feel on this beach spills over into tangible excitement.  Dogs get this shimmer in their eyes when they are happy and feel free, its hard not to smile.  Its also hard not to smile when you can tell that a dog is also smiling.  Sitting on the beach watching all the dogs play freely I smiled.  I looked to my right and a medium sized retriever pounced on me. Pinning me to the sand, hurtling over me and running a circle around me, I think he felt my glee and was attracted to it. I think he wanted me to play with them and have fun with them.  I think he knew how much I’d enjoy that.  Sitting up, laughing, I look over to the water and see my sister in hysterics.  She caught the whole thing too.  We looked at each other and laughed.  The sun set and we all went home.

Summer Vacation - New Yorks

I boarded the first train out of New Orleans on July 1 at 7am. Heading north, by way of Atlanta the pregnant train lurched toward New York and the first leg of my summer vacation began. I chose to take trains for the first half of my trip from New Orleans, to New York and then on to Chicago. My choice was twofold: experience the country by rail and reduce my carbon footprint while doing so. Halfway to DC, the conductor got on the loud speaker to announce that we would be stopping in DC for an extended amount of time to switch engines from the current diesel engine to an electric engine. My carbon higher ground fallacy was instantly replaced by my growing affection for rolling through the American country side.  I brought sandwiches, fruits and nuts. I bought beverages: coffee and juice. I forgot a sweat shirt but had my sarong, so had some form of coverage. They gave me a pillow.

In Alabama, an Indian man sat next to me. He was headed to DC for the long weekend. He got on the train in the middle of the night and we didn’t start talking until we were about 30 minutes outside of DC. He is studying at Clemson, pursuing his graduate degree in Mechanical Engineering. He’s been in the country for about a year and heading to DC to visit a former classmate from India. His first time in DC.  I proudly showed him the Bollywood film I’d be giving Lauren and Brian for their wedding present. He obliged accordingly by telling me about, and writing down, the title of the sequel to that same film.  We shook hands as he departed for his weekend in the capital city of the United States.

I got to NY a mere 3 hours late, 33 hours after leaving New Orleans, spectacular in Amtrak terms.  Just in time for rush hour, me with an unwieldy amount of mismatched bag sizes and shapes, NY en masse collectively helped me to successfully navigate despite the obvious baggage hazards. I met up with Janna, who finished her last day of work and was cleaning out her office. I got to see her out of that office and into her summer.

From Wall Street to Coney Island, I found the Belski-Russ pre-party. Fireworks, beer, laughter, reunion, shoot the freak, wonder wheel, beach glass, joy. It all coalesced and I was so happy to be home. I rode bikes to the soon to be newlyweds homestead with Lauren, Jess, Mike and Jeff. And Lauren talked resolutely about keeping her name because, shit, its her name!

I had trouble sleeping that night, so I finished the other gift I prepared for all the OLL-ers that would be at the wedding – a movie to commemorate our time together on the rez.  Finished that, but still seemed uneasy.  Jenelle and I had a good talk and my nerves settled. Jenelle and I talked till past dawn and saw Kate and Will out, beginning their wedding prep work for the flower arrangements. I slept for maybe an hour or two.

Wedding rehearsal day! We were to be at the Boathouse for 1, 1:15 at the latest, do not be there after 1:30.  I got my baggage settled at the place I’d be crashing at, one of Kate’s friends has a flat in Sunset Park and was out of town for the weekend.  She also has a grey cat called Gusto, who made everything all right. Amanda, Cary, Jenelle and I crashed there for the weekend.

Walked through the ceremony, and I became keenly aware of the ritualization and ceremonial celebration of Lauren and Brian’s love. The night of the wedding rehearsal was a little messy. Open bar at Sunny’s, a dope spot in Red Hook, Brooklyn.  I indulged. And wore three inch spikes. I felt badddd. The wedding wasn’t until 7pm on July 4 and I didn’t have to be at the boat house until 5pm.  I offered to help hype-man for Pat while he mc’ed the reception.  I was also told of a party that would be happening after Sonny’s at Brian’s house. Or I possibly just hoped for that and convinced a car-load of people to storm the groom’s house post-Sonny’s.  Following this impulse, I also asked Alexis to meet me at Brian’s place as well.  Arriving at Brian’s after the car-load, I realized that I might have editorialized the party sentiment and Brian reminded me that it was in fact the night before his wedding and not his bachelor party.

Amanda and Cary reached the apartment in Sunset Park in the early afternoon the day of the wedding. Amanda and Jenelle rehearsed the song they were to sing at the reception, ‘No One’ by Alicia Keys – Amanda on vocal and Jenelle on guitar.  They practiced while Pat and I met in Sunset Park to work out details for the flow of the reception.  Time was winding down to the wedding. I arranged flowers and saged the boathouse before the guests arrived.  As guests arrived I offered them sage clearing and Jenelle offered them a tuning fork clearing.  It was great.

I had only previously considered the event to be a party to draw together the various cohorts accumulated throughout their lives into one communal and collective gathering. And it was!! But it was also so much more!! We collectively gave our intention to Lauren and Brian to support their loving relationship, and they vowed to do that for each other. Jenelle wept. I was struck by the purity and organic thoughtfulness displayed in the ceremony making it obvious that every detail was intended to reflect the love that Lauren and Brian share for one another.  They had a photo booth at the reception too!  Then the Beatles played!!

We went to Lauren’s bar afterward and drank until 4.  I sat on the pavement with Colleen and Ellen and lit sparklers while they told me ghost stories from their lives in Virginia. I sat at the bar with Ben and Joe and laughed while they sloppily sputtered about nonsense. I danced with Javier and Amanda while they started a Soul Train.  I drank with Steve and Jenelle while Steve recounted his vision for his mock-encyclopedic venture into medical misinformation.  I lovingly pet Christine’s puppy. As we climbed into the cab heading away from the scene, we heard a horn blaring at Pat for riding his bike in the middle of the road.  Reaching Sunset Park too tired to struggle with the blow up bed, Jenelle and I slept on top of the deflated bed. 

Drinking all night, the excitement of the trip, a warm New York summer morning all peeled me off the vinyl blow up bed five hours after plopping down on it. It was 11:30 at this point. I sat at the kitchen table, struggled to focus my vision, looked down and noticed a note requesting us to be out by 11:30-12. I woke everyone up and like champs we were out by 12.

Day after the wedding. Lauren’s parents hosted a brunch at the Park Slope brownstone they rented for the festivities. Lots of the previous night’s attendees were there, bleary eyed and blissfully touched by the force of love that we all mutually experienced in bearing witness to Lauren and Brian’s union. Its as if we all got married to each other that day.  We did in fact vow to Lauren and Brian that we would honor the sanctity of their union in our actions.  So we did more of that at the brunch. Sharing stories, pictures, hugs and farewells.

Amanda, Cary and I brought Jenelle to the train station where she’d begin her journey to Chicago. With Jenelle en route, Amanda, Cary and I went to Lauren and Brian’s house to soak up just a little more of their wonderfulness. They packed, we shared more stories and laughed and laughed. We all went to eat Mexican food.  Saying goodbye to the newlywed couple, wishing them well on their travels to Nicaragua and generally enjoying the high of the celebration, we got into Amanda’s rental car and they brought me to Harlem.

Three days of open bars, late nights and insanely compromising shoes, I got to Harlem ready to keep it moving with Janna to celebrate her recent extraction from corporate non-profitism. Alexis, wanting to shake her tail feathers, also met us in Harlem. 

‘Bobbito in the Barber-shop’ was a classic, straight off the street hip hop show on the infamous Hot 97 throughout the 90s. It was on Sundays at 7pm, something like that. Bobbito, being a cultivator of all things cool, showcased various up and coming artists that we as the masses should throw our attention towards. As hip-hop evolved and corporate culture subsumed the form in NY, his show became less and less relevant.  Artists didn’t need the street cred that Bobbito could offer, they needed the prospect of signing bonuses that record labels promised. So being the knowledgeable woman she is, Janna knew of a spot that Bobbito dj’s at monthly. Alexis, Janna and I headed to 115^th and 1^st. The music was great, my energy was low, but Bobbito was vibing and I felt so happy to watch him dig through his records.  I took a break for a while outside and noticed a garbage truck on the corner.  It’s logo said, “Its all about garbare” I asked a guy coming out of the bar “Is that a typo or am I just not aware of what garbare is?” He looked at the truck, laughed and responded, “I think it’s a typo, but I also think they’re business model is flawed.” I realized the complete sentence read, “Its all about garbare, Its all our bussiness.” He walked away as I giggled.

Last day of summer vacation

Today is Labor Day. I started my summer vacation 68 days ago, hopping on a train heading north. Exactly one week ago, I said matter-of-factly that, ‘Next Tuesday will be the official end of my summer vacation.’ I declared this with dwindling savings, a summer of art projects, no job, and no notion of potential paying opportunities.  Articulating the intention to close this chapter so clearly, propelled the domino effect of positive reinforcement that I, in fact, am doing everything exactly the way it is meant. Such reassurance is empowering and enlivening. 

Three interviews, two definite positions. One rejection with the door closing but the window opened a crack. ‘I’d like to stay in touch so that if there is a good fit we can work out how you’d be brought into the picture.’ Absolutely.  The last week of summer and I secured two paying jobs.  A couple more weeks and I might have had to make some decisions. I have a cat for crying out loud, I mean tough decisions.

I woke up on my last day of summer vacation to Ilan crawling out of bed. Ever since I needed a place to crash when we would go out late at night in high school and I would not have survived coming home that late, we’d slept in the same bed.  We’ve known each other 16 years. My soul brother. He visited for the long weekend. He is the window into my testy, Chris Farley-loving, poke-ya-till-it-hurts side.  He left at 10am, I could have slept until noon but instead I laid on my bed and decided to build anxiety around the fact that I’m taking a significant pay cut and have to find a more modest living situation.  I have student loans. I need to scale back.

So I fretted, my head at the foot of the bed, twisting my back to stretch. My mind chatter screeched to a halt. I will make it work.  I have chosen this path, I have chosen to work with kids again, I will make it work. I realized that I would rather work and enjoy my work life rather than work for spending money to do things that I’ll enjoy outside of a work situation that I don’t want to be in the first place.  I decided to be happy with what I have right now, right in front of me.

My job is to focus on doing the best I can as a leader. I think what happened was that I began projecting my fear of not having enough monetarily on the quality of my performance for the kids I’ll be teaching.  Meaning that I know initially I’m going to be hustling to figure out how to afford moving, a new apartment, my student loans, eating…a whole new budget to figure out because I’m completely switching gears.  And so knowing that this initial phase of my transition will take some savvy money management, I was fretting about compounding that with the fact that I would have to lesson plan and prepare for my teaching gig, that likely I won’t be paid for this preparatory work, and weighing the value of my time against these facts.  Should I get a job to maintain the level of comfortability I’ve come to know -working in an office like my degree has so aptly trained me, being the highly functional management material that I am?  Or should I take jobs to fulfill separate interests that which I’m inclined and have never previously pursued?

Instead of building anxiety around not having enough, I’m building excitement for meeting the new people I’ll be working with and the new children I’m going to instruct.  I think being connected to the children in a community is the most direct way to feel the pulse of the people as a whole.  They mirror all the good and the difficult stuff that surrounds them.  That’s why its so rewarding and so terribly hard sometimes.  I remembered that there is a reason I want to be around children again and there are steps along the process that need to be taken to build a foundation for a career in education. I’m working those steps. I’m really excited for this next phase to start.  Summer Vacation ’10 was one for the ages.  Its so gratifying to know how much I’ve seen and how much it all seems to stay connected.