Well, I know that it has been a while, but I wanted to let you know I haven't fallen off the face of the earth. I have just fallen face first into my new job, and am loving loving loving it! Today was Freshman Move In -- forty five minutes ago, the parents ostensibly drove away and we've got six hundred some young people more or less on their own for the first time. Let the games begin!
This is going to be very brief -- but then, since I haven't written in weeks, it just might seem like a major tome. Here's the thing. Since moving to Delaware, since beginning my new position, I almost feel like I have been holding my breath -- waiting for the other shoe to drop. Surely things can't really be as good as they feel, as good as they seem. When is it all going to come crashing down? I like to put on a good front as an optimistic soul, but I am a realist at heart, and let's face it, my reality for the past couple of years -- not all that stellar. (With the caveat that my friends are truly fabulous -- any one who could stand beside me and not run away -- you are okay in my book!) But now... things feel very different. Things feel very good.
I am thinking maybe, just maybe, that other shoe isn't going to drop after all. And that's more than alright with me.
Thursday, August 19, 2010
Monday, July 26, 2010
The Plan
When I moved to Dover, I had a plan. This plan involved a great many things. Perhaps it makes sense if I rewind to New Years 2009. I had one resolution -- only one. Simply, not to mention bluntly, put -- to give a damn. This included, theoretically, paying more attention to a good many things to which I hadn't been paying any attention. Of course, we have the big ticket items of diet and exercise, but also things like investing more time in relationships my friends, keeping on top of my laundry situation, even taking the time to complete an outfit with a necklace or earrings, or, *gasp* wear make up. So, that was my one New Year's resolution. And then, thirteen days into the new year, I learned that I would no longer be employed as of July 1. (I'm not going to go there, I mention this merely as a place holder.) Suddenly, I shifted into basic survival mode. I no longer gave a damn about giving a damn.
Fast forward to July 1, 2010 -- or June 26, or whenever it was when I actually moved to Dover. As I said, I had a plan. I still wanted to pay more attention to diet and exercise. I still wanted to stay on top of my laundry (made significantly simpler given that I have a washer and dryer in my apartment). And even with the jewelry and make-up... don't think I need the make up, per se. I am growing to appreciate the polish it seems to provide, though.
Anyway... another part of the plan involves writing more. One of the reasons I decided to give this blog thing a try, I suppose. I've always dreamt of being a writer... almost for as long as I can remember. When I realized how carried away I could become reading... When I discovered poetry, be it Shel Silverstein or Robert Frost... When I felt that rush of pride when I wrote a silly story or poem and Grandma or Grandpa or Mom liked what I had written. I still dream of being a writer. Only now I suppose I know that it doesn't need to be a dream. And yet... I have such a sense of hesitation. Maybe it isn't hesitation so much as out right fear. I could pretend that I don't know what I am afraid off. But, I would only be pretending. I am afraid that what ever it is I have to say won't be "good enough." I am afraid that no one will hear me. And I want to be heard.
Back to the plan... part of the plan is basic housekeeping... not allowing chaos to get the better of me. I'm doing more or less okay on that front -- everything is relative. I think it's interesting, though, that the one space in my apartment that I haven't finished organizing is the guest room. That is, the guest room that doubles as a study... where I am sitting right now as I write this. I don't particularly enjoy being in this room, because it makes me a little nervous. It isn't going according to plan. And, as long as this room makes me nervous, I am not likely to spend a significant amount of time in it, writing. Hmm... can you be passive aggressive with your self, do you suppose?
Well, now I have said it... practically in public. Now, maybe I will finish organizing and be done procrastinating... and write and write and write...
Fast forward to July 1, 2010 -- or June 26, or whenever it was when I actually moved to Dover. As I said, I had a plan. I still wanted to pay more attention to diet and exercise. I still wanted to stay on top of my laundry (made significantly simpler given that I have a washer and dryer in my apartment). And even with the jewelry and make-up... don't think I need the make up, per se. I am growing to appreciate the polish it seems to provide, though.
Anyway... another part of the plan involves writing more. One of the reasons I decided to give this blog thing a try, I suppose. I've always dreamt of being a writer... almost for as long as I can remember. When I realized how carried away I could become reading... When I discovered poetry, be it Shel Silverstein or Robert Frost... When I felt that rush of pride when I wrote a silly story or poem and Grandma or Grandpa or Mom liked what I had written. I still dream of being a writer. Only now I suppose I know that it doesn't need to be a dream. And yet... I have such a sense of hesitation. Maybe it isn't hesitation so much as out right fear. I could pretend that I don't know what I am afraid off. But, I would only be pretending. I am afraid that what ever it is I have to say won't be "good enough." I am afraid that no one will hear me. And I want to be heard.
Back to the plan... part of the plan is basic housekeeping... not allowing chaos to get the better of me. I'm doing more or less okay on that front -- everything is relative. I think it's interesting, though, that the one space in my apartment that I haven't finished organizing is the guest room. That is, the guest room that doubles as a study... where I am sitting right now as I write this. I don't particularly enjoy being in this room, because it makes me a little nervous. It isn't going according to plan. And, as long as this room makes me nervous, I am not likely to spend a significant amount of time in it, writing. Hmm... can you be passive aggressive with your self, do you suppose?
Well, now I have said it... practically in public. Now, maybe I will finish organizing and be done procrastinating... and write and write and write...
Saturday, July 24, 2010
Seven on Saturday
1. I am sitting in the back yard, because I can't pick up the wireless signal consistently in my apartment (the folks from whom I rent graciously share their wireless with me, but it isn't always all that reliable). It is hot out here. But not as hot, I think, as it was yesterday, when it was 98 degrees at 5:00. No thank you!
2. In spite of the fact that it was 98 degrees at 5:00 yesterday, I went to the Delaware State Fair after work. Sadly, ended up with a huge blister on the side of my foot. I have a thing about blisters. They make me almost queasy. Blood doesn't bother me, but blisters? Don't know what it is, but I just don't enjoy going there. But, ultimately the blister paled in comparison to a spontaneous evening of pulled pork, kettle corn, funnel cakes and caramel apples. Singular not plural. Stayed away from the fried Twinkies, though. Can't quite wrap my head around that. Felt badly for all of the pigs and sheep and cows and horses and such -- so very warm. So very smelly. Farm animals and fair food -- does it get any better than this?
3. Well, the grandstand entertainment last night, for which I splurged and bought a ticket, was none other than Paula Deen. She was so much fun -- I really enjoyed the evening. Even though the seats were nearly intolerably close together. I mean, come on! These are a bunch of people who like Paula Deen. We are butter people! We have hips!
4. I feel very fortunate to have such a supportive president, and upper level administration in general, as I get underway with this new position. Great meeting with the president yesterday. I can't say enough about how pleased I am to be here.
5. Speaking of the president... most surreal moment this week -- stopping at Five Guys (a greasy, greasy, but oh so wonderful burger joint with fabulous french fries), dressed in funeral attire, with the president and his lovely wife, while R.E.M. played in the background -- "It's the end of the world as we know it..." I kid you not.
6. Went to church last week in Bethany Beach. Can't remember whether I wrote about this or not -- I'm thinking not. Was a little apprehensive when I saw the right wing bumperstickers on the truck parked in front of me. You can tell alot about a church by the bumperstickers in the parking lot. But, I ended up liking the service. Kind of have mixed feelings about that, because I just can't drive that far every week.
7. Oh my. The older gentleman next door is doing yard work, without his shirt on. Let's just say it's not a good look for him. Maybe it's time for me to go inside....
2. In spite of the fact that it was 98 degrees at 5:00 yesterday, I went to the Delaware State Fair after work. Sadly, ended up with a huge blister on the side of my foot. I have a thing about blisters. They make me almost queasy. Blood doesn't bother me, but blisters? Don't know what it is, but I just don't enjoy going there. But, ultimately the blister paled in comparison to a spontaneous evening of pulled pork, kettle corn, funnel cakes and caramel apples. Singular not plural. Stayed away from the fried Twinkies, though. Can't quite wrap my head around that. Felt badly for all of the pigs and sheep and cows and horses and such -- so very warm. So very smelly. Farm animals and fair food -- does it get any better than this?
3. Well, the grandstand entertainment last night, for which I splurged and bought a ticket, was none other than Paula Deen. She was so much fun -- I really enjoyed the evening. Even though the seats were nearly intolerably close together. I mean, come on! These are a bunch of people who like Paula Deen. We are butter people! We have hips!
4. I feel very fortunate to have such a supportive president, and upper level administration in general, as I get underway with this new position. Great meeting with the president yesterday. I can't say enough about how pleased I am to be here.
5. Speaking of the president... most surreal moment this week -- stopping at Five Guys (a greasy, greasy, but oh so wonderful burger joint with fabulous french fries), dressed in funeral attire, with the president and his lovely wife, while R.E.M. played in the background -- "It's the end of the world as we know it..." I kid you not.
6. Went to church last week in Bethany Beach. Can't remember whether I wrote about this or not -- I'm thinking not. Was a little apprehensive when I saw the right wing bumperstickers on the truck parked in front of me. You can tell alot about a church by the bumperstickers in the parking lot. But, I ended up liking the service. Kind of have mixed feelings about that, because I just can't drive that far every week.
7. Oh my. The older gentleman next door is doing yard work, without his shirt on. Let's just say it's not a good look for him. Maybe it's time for me to go inside....
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Exhausted...
What a tiring couple of days. I have spent well over 12 hours in the car in the past two days, with various and sundry campus administrator types, traveling to calling hours and a funeral. It feels kind of odd to be, quite literally, along for the ride in so many respects. It feels very awkward to coming into contact with students for the first time in such sad circumstances. I feel at once detached and enmeshed, and it is kind of difficult to reconcile both at the same time.
And now, of course, the really difficult work begins, for the family, the friends, our students... figuring out what life looks like now. I look at their very young faces, and I know that they have been changed in very real ways by this tragedy. A loss of innocence, of invincibility. And that is the way of the world. I know that they have been changed, but I also know that, in time, they will be okay. Even if they don't know that.
I remember someone asking me, in the midst of their grieving, if it ever stopped hurting. How do you answer that question? I can only be truthful and say, not really but... but it doesn't always hurt like this...
And now, of course, the really difficult work begins, for the family, the friends, our students... figuring out what life looks like now. I look at their very young faces, and I know that they have been changed in very real ways by this tragedy. A loss of innocence, of invincibility. And that is the way of the world. I know that they have been changed, but I also know that, in time, they will be okay. Even if they don't know that.
I remember someone asking me, in the midst of their grieving, if it ever stopped hurting. How do you answer that question? I can only be truthful and say, not really but... but it doesn't always hurt like this...
Monday, July 19, 2010
Tough stuff
When you've been wading into a new position gently, there's nothing quite like getting shoved into the deep end of the pool. A student death over the weekend. Thankfully, I know what I am doing, although all of the experience in the world doesn't make this any easier. When I was having lunch with several folks in Res Life when I first got here, they asked if I had any special areas of expertise, so to speak. I feel like grief and loss kind of fall into that category. And then I wonder what that means. I think some times I have reasoned that it is a way for me to do something constructive with the all of the loss I have known -- and I tend to think that I have in fact known a fair amount of loss, more than the average bear. And, I still think that is true. But then there is the part of me that realizes that every time I sit with someone who is hurting it's almost like pulling off a scab that never quite has a chance to heal. And college students... they are at this point in their lives when the rest of their lives awaits then. Well, I guess technically we are all at that point in our lives, but... When you are 20 years old, your best friend isn't supposed to get hit by a car while she is out jogging. It's going to be a challenging couple of days -- calling hours, funeral... I wasn't involved with that piece of things before. But it is a good feeling to have confidence in myself, to know that I have it in me to do what I have to do (I was listening to Sarah McLachlan earlier today... a most appropriate song) and it is a good feeling to perceive the trust and confidence that has been placed in me. It is at once heady, and humbling.
Monday, July 12, 2010
Familiarity
I don't think familiarity breeds contempt at all. I think it can allow comfort to take root. Finding my way in a new place, with new faces, new streets, new everything I am grateful for glimpses of the familiar... glimpses, scents, sounds, sensations.
The chapel smells like Holy Covenant UMC in Chicago -- old wood and the furnace, even in the midst of summer's relentless heat. There is a wonderful meditation space that somehow feels familiar, somehow expectant. As though the walls themselves were eager to absorb whatever you would offer up or lay down. The flower beds outside in the front -- like the flowers at the end of my Grandma B's driveway -- marigolds, almost acrid, but also unapologetic. Then, the black-eyed susans around nearly every corner. Just like those along the path to the pond in Andover, MA.
So many of the sidewalks of Dover are uneven -- made of crumbling brick, just like Belle Street, where Grandma S lived, where I spent so much time as a child. The houses lining those sidewalks feel like Lakeside OH to me -- old Victorians with porches big enough for the family and then some. Even my apartment has the feel of a summer cottage. I am remembering the year that we stayed in that tiny garage apartment a block or so from Hoover. When they opened the garage door, the whole place shook and Grandma feared there had been a freak earthquake! My landlords don't often open the garage door, but when they do it is mildly jarring, but no fault lines are involved.
Even people, perhaps especially people, are familiar. There are so many folks who remind me of others. People I dearly love. And some, maybe not so much. That whisper of remembrance when I chat with these people is very welcome. It reminds me that in time, these too will be the voices of colleagues and friends.
The chapel smells like Holy Covenant UMC in Chicago -- old wood and the furnace, even in the midst of summer's relentless heat. There is a wonderful meditation space that somehow feels familiar, somehow expectant. As though the walls themselves were eager to absorb whatever you would offer up or lay down. The flower beds outside in the front -- like the flowers at the end of my Grandma B's driveway -- marigolds, almost acrid, but also unapologetic. Then, the black-eyed susans around nearly every corner. Just like those along the path to the pond in Andover, MA.
So many of the sidewalks of Dover are uneven -- made of crumbling brick, just like Belle Street, where Grandma S lived, where I spent so much time as a child. The houses lining those sidewalks feel like Lakeside OH to me -- old Victorians with porches big enough for the family and then some. Even my apartment has the feel of a summer cottage. I am remembering the year that we stayed in that tiny garage apartment a block or so from Hoover. When they opened the garage door, the whole place shook and Grandma feared there had been a freak earthquake! My landlords don't often open the garage door, but when they do it is mildly jarring, but no fault lines are involved.
Even people, perhaps especially people, are familiar. There are so many folks who remind me of others. People I dearly love. And some, maybe not so much. That whisper of remembrance when I chat with these people is very welcome. It reminds me that in time, these too will be the voices of colleagues and friends.
Saturday, July 10, 2010
Seven on Saturday
Other bloggers I read do "Ten on Tuesday," so I thought I would mix it up a little bit and do
"Seven on Saturday." I am nothing if not at least somewhat original.
1. I am now officially a Delawarean -- I have a Delaware driver's license, license plates, the whole nine yards. Two and a half hours at the DMV. And I thought it was bad in Chicago. I also registered to vote and I have a library card. And I think I've finally memorized my new phone number -- if not my office number yet.
2. Going to the Farmer's Market in the rain this morning might not have been the best idea I have ever had. But, I do have fresh sweet corn, plums, green beans, and cucumbers to show for it. And bread and butter pickles and stilton blue cheese with mango and ginger. I didn't realize that there was such a large Amish population in this area, but there is. The food they bring to the Farmer's Market is amazing.
3. I had a Pecan Pie Blizzard from the Dairy Queen last night. Not a big fan. It was sickeningly sweet. The pecans tasted great, though. I think I prefer the Turtle Blizzard. Chocolate makes just about everything better.
4. It is taking me much longer than I thought it would to get my office in order. Things just aren't coming together. Of course, it probably doesn't help that I decided mid organization to revisit the way I had been classifying some of my books. Why, I am not sure.
5. There is a drug store in town called "Happy Harry's." Maybe it's just me, but I just can't bring myself to have any prescriptions filled at a drug store called "Happy Harry's." It sounds like something from an SNL skit.
6. Several of the songs from "The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee" are looping in my head right now. Loved the show, like the music, but is very very very nice very very very very very very... annoying over and over!
7. I wonder if anyone at all is reading my blog, except for me. It's kind of strange, it is. To be writing, thinking somebody might be reading, but never really knowing. I seem to be on a Broadway musical kick of some sort, so please bear with me. I am thinking about Seussical, when Horton's clover with the small speck of dust is about to be boiled in oil. He starts calling to the Whos "Are you there?" and they try to respond, albeit weakly, "We are here, we are here..." How about you? Are you here?
Wow. I can't imagine coming up with ten of those. Seven was enough of a challenge for me.
"Seven on Saturday." I am nothing if not at least somewhat original.
1. I am now officially a Delawarean -- I have a Delaware driver's license, license plates, the whole nine yards. Two and a half hours at the DMV. And I thought it was bad in Chicago. I also registered to vote and I have a library card. And I think I've finally memorized my new phone number -- if not my office number yet.
2. Going to the Farmer's Market in the rain this morning might not have been the best idea I have ever had. But, I do have fresh sweet corn, plums, green beans, and cucumbers to show for it. And bread and butter pickles and stilton blue cheese with mango and ginger. I didn't realize that there was such a large Amish population in this area, but there is. The food they bring to the Farmer's Market is amazing.
3. I had a Pecan Pie Blizzard from the Dairy Queen last night. Not a big fan. It was sickeningly sweet. The pecans tasted great, though. I think I prefer the Turtle Blizzard. Chocolate makes just about everything better.
4. It is taking me much longer than I thought it would to get my office in order. Things just aren't coming together. Of course, it probably doesn't help that I decided mid organization to revisit the way I had been classifying some of my books. Why, I am not sure.
5. There is a drug store in town called "Happy Harry's." Maybe it's just me, but I just can't bring myself to have any prescriptions filled at a drug store called "Happy Harry's." It sounds like something from an SNL skit.
6. Several of the songs from "The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee" are looping in my head right now. Loved the show, like the music, but is very very very nice very very very very very very... annoying over and over!
7. I wonder if anyone at all is reading my blog, except for me. It's kind of strange, it is. To be writing, thinking somebody might be reading, but never really knowing. I seem to be on a Broadway musical kick of some sort, so please bear with me. I am thinking about Seussical, when Horton's clover with the small speck of dust is about to be boiled in oil. He starts calling to the Whos "Are you there?" and they try to respond, albeit weakly, "We are here, we are here..." How about you? Are you here?
Wow. I can't imagine coming up with ten of those. Seven was enough of a challenge for me.
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