It's been so long...

It's been so long since I posted, but I want to start again. Stuff's been going down in my life and the lives of those closest to me, and I feel the need to vent. So here goes...

My cousin lost her husband last week to a bone marrow disease. He was 29, and so full of life. I keep replaying their wedding over and over in my head; the sun is setting over the Hawaiian beach, I'm nervously clutching Brian's wedding band as I stand up there with them, Cindy is saying her vows, my uncle Mitch is crying. It's such a juxtaposition to what the reality is only a year and half later (to this day, in fact). Brian is gone; his funeral was Monday. Cindy is a widow, and I don't know how to help her grieve this man she loved so much.

I'm filled with anger; why couldn't it have been someone else? Why did pneumonia set in like that? Why Brian?

I'm also filled with despair; despite everything everyone did, he didn't make it. What else should have been, or could have been done? If I had prayed, or if this, or if that...

But mostly, I'm just filled with sadness, that a life so well lived was cut so terribly, terribly short. You will always be loved, Brian Swanson - and you will be so very missed.

I walk the line...

Hello all,

'Tis been a great while since I last wrote; in my defense, I blame my students. Seriously. Could I be more hyper-involved at school? It's madness. Including, of course, the fact that I'm here on a Saturday morning. And also, that this is far from the first time that has happened. Sigh.

What do you do?

I had a distinctly surprising moment this week when former roommate extraordinaire GINA got in touch. Seems Miss Albanese is headin' back to Minnesota from the happy hunting grounds of NYC. To that, I say - rotscada! It was so good to hear from an old friend, which got me to thinking (a la Carrie Bradshaw pondering out loud):

Why don't I get in touch with people more often?

So, my belated New Year's resolution (yeah, yeah, so it's March - get off my back!) is to spend at least one evening a week "catching up on my correspondence." So, coming soon to a mailbox, email inbox, or voicemail near you...

Di!

Still the same, still the same...

So I'm listening to Bob Seger on a Saturday evening (hence the title). All is quiet in the school building, except for the raucous rendition of "Hello Dolly!" being performed in the auditorium. And where am I, as usual? In my classroom, trying to get my crap together for next week! Would have done it today, except I was judging debate in Champlin Park for some extra $$. Can't do it tomorrow, as I'm at a wedding shower for my cousin all day. And so it goes on...

To say it concisely, I am in hell. My alternative learning center junior highers are killing me, bit by bit. Let me ask: Do I seem like the type who enjoys immaturity? Do I like responding to asinine questions that are completely unrelated to what we are learning in class? Do I really want to work with these kids?

If you know me at all, and therefore answered "NO" in a resounding fashion to all of the above, you are so totally my people!! (Can I get a shout-out for grown up conversations, what what?)

Kill me now. Bob and I are going to try to put together a hands-on activity for the little buggers, to keep them busy and me sane. Wish me luck and patience.

This town wasn't big enough for the both of us

The town in question: St. Paul.

The "us" in question: me and a Falcon Heights police officer.

So after I dropped off my marathon-running friend at the 'Dome on Sunday, I'm driving another friend (this one hungover and without a car) to her place in Falcon Heights. As I'm telling stories (and of course, not paying close attention to my driving), my eyes are drawn into the rearview mirror.

What are these flashing red lights I see?

Oh yes, you've got it. It's the Five-Oh, the po-lice, the man.

So I pull over, not sure if I ran a red, drifted out of my lane, or had the pedal a little too far to the floor. Given my particular gift for speeding, I was betting on door #3. Officer approaches, asks if I know why I'm being pulled over, can he have my license and insurance...and yes, ma'am, you were going 45 in a 30, didn't you realize it's only a 30? So back to his car he goes, to decide my fate...

And he returns, saying he's going to give me the benefit of the doubt, as my record is clear and I'm apparently not aware of where or how badly I was speeding. Warning, have a nice day, ma'am.

And slow down.

And I will. For now...

Blizzards or sunburns?

In a recent conversation with a friend from the warm areas of the country, I got to pondering an intriguing question: which to prefer? The blizzardy bitter cold of the Midwest, with its warm but not scorching summers and all four seasons, OR, the searing heat over-100-degrees-on-a-regular-basis but nicely warm during the "winter" of the Nevada/Arizona/New Mexico area?

I like myself a good snow fort.

Hell, I even go ice skating from time to time.

But seriously, can't we all live without the friggin' scraping of ice and snow that couldn't possibly have accumulated since the last time it was done, a mere 2 hours before?

However, given my inclination to all things sunburn, I don't know how I'd fare in another place. And, there's the hot/humid combination. You all know my hair goes all Diana Ross when it's that particular combo of elements (re: Nat - remember my night in Tampa? Ybor City + Di = scary Diana Ross impersonator mixin' it up with thugs near da clubs).

Plus, do they even have cheese curds in Vegas or Phoenix?

Week 1 Done: Still Alive

OK, so now that the first week of school is over, and I find I am still able to draw breath into my body, I should update the ol' blog. For all 5 people who read it. But whateva!

School is off to a bang. I have all interior design classes this quarter, which makes my life easier. I also have 35-36 students in each of those classes....yikes!! But it's not so bad, as most of them are fairly mellow females, and the classroom I'm in can accommodate that many bodies fairly well.

So there's always a caboose on the train, of course. Like 4th hour, a girl who sits right in front, flips open her cell phone "to check the time" every few minutes. No recognition of the HUGE CLOCK RIGHT IN FRONT OF HER ON THE WALL. But please, yes, let's have a stupid ass power struggle over the cell phone. Because apparently she cannot read an analog clock.

Or maybe the girls in 2nd hour, 3 of whom I switched into different seats after Day 1 showed them to be vicious in proximity to one another. Catfight potential? Perhaps. I better not wear any big earrings or things that could get pulled, just in case.

But overall, not too bad. I ask you: Did we notice these things when we were in school? The undercurrents, the petty I-don't-want-to-sit-by-her-because-fill-in-the-reason-here, the whining, the defiance? Or were we all just too damn good for our own good?