I met my goal for the new year! Well, my revised goal... Tonight I surpassed 40,000 words! I'm going to do this-- I'm going to finish a book! Whether or not it is any good, that's a whole other issue, but, not my current concern!
Only 10,000 to 20,000 more words to go!
Monday, December 26, 2011
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
31,128 words...
I just hit 31,128 words, which means that I'm more than half way through my book! Realistically, I expect my finished product to be somewhere around 60,000 words or 200-240 pages. The more I write, the more I am becoming fascinated with how writing changes the way that I see the world around me.
Lately, sitting in crowded rooms has left me quietly observing, listening, thinking of how I would describe the scene and people around me with words. Reading books and watching movies has left me taking notes about how story tellers cut scenes and purposely leave things out. Looking at pictures and listening to songs have in turn given me unexpected inspiration, helping me to fill in dead ends and set the tone. It is funny how ideas surround us if we stop to look and listen.
It's fun to find our passions, I think that I've found one of mine, (regardless of how it works out).
On a less-related note, here are three pictures that I want to share of my December so far:
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| Reluctant Friends |
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| Modern Solitude |
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| Candy Land! |
Monday, December 12, 2011
Young Adult
Do you remember the girl that you hated in school? The one with the clone worshippers that liked her even though she was blatantly mean to everyone?
If you were like me, you probably spent your high school days fantasizing about what that girl was going to end up like in her late thirties. I'll spare you the tasteless details of how I imagined my high school nemesis to turn out, but trust me, it was not pretty. I, on the other hand, imagined myself to be a sophisticated world traveler, educated, poised, wealthy. Always wearing heels and a dress from Anthropologie. Funny what we think will matter most.
This weekend I saw the movie Young Adult with Charlize Theron and was reminded of these teenaged fantasies. The movie was funny, dark, and unbearable at moments. I left hating it, even if it made me laugh. But, the more I thought about it, the more I realized that it was the moment that all underdogs wait for-- the chance to see the villain suffer.
The irony to me, is that I wanted the villain to change, to grow, to improve and to become likeable. Instead of wanting to watch her fail, I desperately wanted to watch her change. The suffering was not rewarding, it was depressing. I realized that I would much rather discover that my nemesis had changed and become her friend. What a departure from my 17 year-old self!
I was also shocked to see little pieces of myself in her, remembering moments that I had been shallow or unkind in life and laughing uncomfortably at some of her adult tastes and habits, (umm, pretty sure I own the same pair of sunglasses, have a pomeranian, and have been known to glue myself to "reality" television). Granted, these moments paled in comparison to this villain, but there is a certain shame in seeing the villain in yourself, as well as a certain introspection in seeing the mirror reflected back at you.
It made me laugh how she so adamantly opposed the idea of a life in her home town, set on the idea that the city would make her happier, cooler, more important. Been there, done that, (and returned home again). It also made me think about how much my vision of adult life has changed from the age of 17 to now. I would have never fantasized about being an elementary school teacher, married, living in Sacramento. But, now, here am I, consciously embracing all of those things. Life is funny.
It made me laugh how she so adamantly opposed the idea of a life in her home town, set on the idea that the city would make her happier, cooler, more important. Been there, done that, (and returned home again). It also made me think about how much my vision of adult life has changed from the age of 17 to now. I would have never fantasized about being an elementary school teacher, married, living in Sacramento. But, now, here am I, consciously embracing all of those things. Life is funny.
So, even though it was dark, a little over the top, and at times painful to watch, I change my review. I liked Young Adult. It made me think, a lot.
Monday, December 5, 2011
Jackets and Other Fun Things
Trying to write a book is zapping my energy to blog.
That aside, there are a couple of things that I want to celebrate.
First, I recently noticed that a handful of my students still do not have warm winter jackets. This was very saddening to me, (even more so than all of the challenging life stories that I hear everyday, funny where the line is for each of us). I shared my frustration with friends and family and received a huge response from people willing to help me find jackets for my students. My dad even went to Target at 10:00 at night just to buy a jacket for one of my students, (and showed up the very next morning to deliver it!). As much as I was saddened to think of my students cold, I was really inspired by how many people in my life care enough to change this.
Second, I worked 52 hours last week! This is a celebration because I had been working 60! I am cutting myself off at 5PM, (7AM to 5PM), and forcing myself to spend only a couple of hours planning on the weekend. It feels better, even if there may at times be a mess on my desk. My goal is to keep this new trend up. Eventually I want to join the 4:30 club, but I'm not there yet. And, yes, there really is a 4:30 club among some of the teachers at my school! But, that's a good thing. I'm feeling like the quality of my teaching is going up with the decrease in quantity of work, as I'm more patient and mentally prepared to deal with everything that comes my way.
That aside, there are a couple of things that I want to celebrate.
First, I recently noticed that a handful of my students still do not have warm winter jackets. This was very saddening to me, (even more so than all of the challenging life stories that I hear everyday, funny where the line is for each of us). I shared my frustration with friends and family and received a huge response from people willing to help me find jackets for my students. My dad even went to Target at 10:00 at night just to buy a jacket for one of my students, (and showed up the very next morning to deliver it!). As much as I was saddened to think of my students cold, I was really inspired by how many people in my life care enough to change this.
Second, I worked 52 hours last week! This is a celebration because I had been working 60! I am cutting myself off at 5PM, (7AM to 5PM), and forcing myself to spend only a couple of hours planning on the weekend. It feels better, even if there may at times be a mess on my desk. My goal is to keep this new trend up. Eventually I want to join the 4:30 club, but I'm not there yet. And, yes, there really is a 4:30 club among some of the teachers at my school! But, that's a good thing. I'm feeling like the quality of my teaching is going up with the decrease in quantity of work, as I'm more patient and mentally prepared to deal with everything that comes my way.
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
22,222 words
I hit 22,222 words this evening. Not bad for a month where I still worked pretty darn hard doing my day job. My goal is now a whole book by 1/1/12, (or at least a whole draft). Maybe I'll actually get to cross something cool off of my New Year's resolutions for 2011!
At some point in my life, it is now my goal to be a full-time writer, (and not one that writes economic reports...been there, done that!). I think I can, I think I can, I think I can.
It's fun to dream and even more fun to take real steps toward achieving that dream.
Thank you for the inspiration nanowrimo.
At some point in my life, it is now my goal to be a full-time writer, (and not one that writes economic reports...been there, done that!). I think I can, I think I can, I think I can.
It's fun to dream and even more fun to take real steps toward achieving that dream.
Thank you for the inspiration nanowrimo.
Saturday, November 26, 2011
Perspective
This morning I woke up excited to go back to school on Monday. Instead of a dream where nothing was going right in my classroom, I dreamed that I had a fabulous day where everything was coming together and I felt like an effective teacher. Dreams are very powerful in setting the tone during my waking hours. Now, I am sitting here re-energized to go back to school, excited to see my students, eager to try some new tricks and to be consistent with my old ones.
It sure beats the dreams I have where everything is going wrong and I wake up a stress-case! It's funny too, just yesterday I was telling a friend how the end of breaks are always so hard for me, how I start to stress about time slipping away from me, about how quickly I'll be back absorbed in the challenges of my classroom. However, with a shift in perspective brought on by a restful week and an encouraging dream, I'm now sitting here excited to go back.
Realizing how easily my perspective can shift from a stressful one to an excited one causes me to wonder whether there is an easy trick for always remembering to reframe my thinking. I feel like it is trickier than it sounds, but I also think it is funny how often something seemingly little can help me change how I see things. In this case, I'd like to find a way to always remember to step back and look at my job as an exciting and rewarding challenge when I start to become stressed, overwhelmed, or nervous. I'm determined that it is possible. If you have any tricks, I'd love to hear them.
So, happy Saturday. I am determined not to look at today as two days before I have to go back to work or as "Oh no, time is running out." Instead, I am determined to embrace today as its own, completely independent entity full of events and activities that I have been looking forward to, as well as a chance to get caught up on little tasks before everything gets busy again. May you have an equally enjoyable and productive day and remember that how you look at everything around you matters too.
It sure beats the dreams I have where everything is going wrong and I wake up a stress-case! It's funny too, just yesterday I was telling a friend how the end of breaks are always so hard for me, how I start to stress about time slipping away from me, about how quickly I'll be back absorbed in the challenges of my classroom. However, with a shift in perspective brought on by a restful week and an encouraging dream, I'm now sitting here excited to go back.
Realizing how easily my perspective can shift from a stressful one to an excited one causes me to wonder whether there is an easy trick for always remembering to reframe my thinking. I feel like it is trickier than it sounds, but I also think it is funny how often something seemingly little can help me change how I see things. In this case, I'd like to find a way to always remember to step back and look at my job as an exciting and rewarding challenge when I start to become stressed, overwhelmed, or nervous. I'm determined that it is possible. If you have any tricks, I'd love to hear them.
So, happy Saturday. I am determined not to look at today as two days before I have to go back to work or as "Oh no, time is running out." Instead, I am determined to embrace today as its own, completely independent entity full of events and activities that I have been looking forward to, as well as a chance to get caught up on little tasks before everything gets busy again. May you have an equally enjoyable and productive day and remember that how you look at everything around you matters too.
Sunday, November 20, 2011
Abandoned Blogs
When I started blogging back in July, I had trouble finding a blog url that was not taken. I eventually settled on a truncated version of today is the best day of my life, todaybestlife. Adequate, but not my first choice, it reminds me more of a segment on Good Morning America than the place where I keep my musings on life.
Tempted to find myself a different url, I tried typing in some of the prefixes that I like and discovered a veritable graveyard of abandoned blogs. I find this irritating to discover that so many good blog names are wasted, but also fascinating, like stumbling across forgotten time capsules. The first one I tried had been abandoned for nearly ten years! I did not even know what a blog was in 2002. I was a senior in high school.
http://luckylife.blogspot.com/
Amused, I tried two more, which also proved abandoned. It makes me wonder how many are out there. Millions, I suspect. I invite you to try your own favorite prefixes and see what you get. I was hoping to stumble across like-minded blogs that maybe I'd like to follow. Instead, I found abandoned blog after abandoned blog, reminding me of how often we start projects and quickly lose interest.
This one was actually the most interesting to me:
http://luckyday.blogspot.com/
Someone started a luckiness experiment involving a crucifix and disappeared from the blog world after merely four days. Outcome unlucky, perhaps? I know, I know, my insinuation is creepy and unwarranted, I apologize.
At any rate, peeking into other people's abandoned blog projects is an interesting reflection on human nature and life in general. May we all find projects that keep us happy and engaged!
Happy Sunday!
PS. I think this is becoming an obsession, almost every blog prefix I try is abandoned...
olivia.blogspot.com
(my last name).blogspot.com (trying to protect my identity a little bit ;)
oliviaelizabeth.blogspot.com
wanderlust.blogspot.com
happylife.blogspot.com
happynow.blogspot.com
luckyheart.blogspot.com
The
List
Goes
On
And
On
So far, of all the prefixes I've tried, only one has led to an active blog. Maybe dead blogs should have a shelf life and then be thrown out so that others may claim their names?!
Tempted to find myself a different url, I tried typing in some of the prefixes that I like and discovered a veritable graveyard of abandoned blogs. I find this irritating to discover that so many good blog names are wasted, but also fascinating, like stumbling across forgotten time capsules. The first one I tried had been abandoned for nearly ten years! I did not even know what a blog was in 2002. I was a senior in high school.
http://luckylife.blogspot.com/
Amused, I tried two more, which also proved abandoned. It makes me wonder how many are out there. Millions, I suspect. I invite you to try your own favorite prefixes and see what you get. I was hoping to stumble across like-minded blogs that maybe I'd like to follow. Instead, I found abandoned blog after abandoned blog, reminding me of how often we start projects and quickly lose interest.
This one was actually the most interesting to me:
http://luckyday.blogspot.com/
Someone started a luckiness experiment involving a crucifix and disappeared from the blog world after merely four days. Outcome unlucky, perhaps? I know, I know, my insinuation is creepy and unwarranted, I apologize.
At any rate, peeking into other people's abandoned blog projects is an interesting reflection on human nature and life in general. May we all find projects that keep us happy and engaged!
Happy Sunday!
PS. I think this is becoming an obsession, almost every blog prefix I try is abandoned...
olivia.blogspot.com
(my last name).blogspot.com (trying to protect my identity a little bit ;)
oliviaelizabeth.blogspot.com
wanderlust.blogspot.com
happylife.blogspot.com
happynow.blogspot.com
luckyheart.blogspot.com
The
List
Goes
On
And
On
So far, of all the prefixes I've tried, only one has led to an active blog. Maybe dead blogs should have a shelf life and then be thrown out so that others may claim their names?!
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
Fall Colors
Yesterday I remembered why fall is my favorite season. Driving home from work at dusk, the sun shone through the brilliant oranges, reds, and yellows of the leaves on the trees. The green belt behind my school is alive with color. In fact, it's hardly green at all right now! Today I was determined to capture its magnificence in a photograph but missed my window, leaving just a few minutes too late to capture the light. It is so easy to forget to stop and look at the beauty around us, even in as unlikely a place as an older suburban neighborhood in Sacramento. This weekend I am determined to bask in all of fall's blazing colors before they slip away into the messy piles of rotting leaves that December brings.
I think that is the hardest thing about life, if you do not consciously stop to appreciate something, it will slip away before you realize it. I guess that is the truth to the saying in my family of this too shall pass. I think that we should add to the end that this too shall pass, whether you like it or not.
I know that I have said it before, but sometimes I wish that I could put life on pause and just stop and take it all in. Fleeting, but beautiful, but hard, but worth it. I know that each passing experience leads to another that has its own worth. I just want to remember to actually stop and appreciate what is around me before it is gone. A worthwhile sentiment for a month focused on gratitude, I suppose.
I know that I have said it before, but sometimes I wish that I could put life on pause and just stop and take it all in. Fleeting, but beautiful, but hard, but worth it. I know that each passing experience leads to another that has its own worth. I just want to remember to actually stop and appreciate what is around me before it is gone. A worthwhile sentiment for a month focused on gratitude, I suppose.
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
Ugly Face
This is probably going to sound really cliche, but today I was thinking about beauty and it really hit me that what makes someone memorably beautiful is not just how they look but who they are. We all grow up hearing that true beauty is on the inside, and while I have always agreed, I have never stopped to think about what this means to me.
Like most women, I have spent too much time worrying about how I look, but I have never stopped to think about how who I am affects this perception. The women that are most beautiful to me are the ones whose inner beauty shines. Likewise, the men that are least attractive to me are the ones that have "ugly souls," regardless of outer appearance.
As silly as it may sound, thinking about what I see as beauty in others is changing how I strive to cultivate beauty in myself. I would much rather be remembered for my inner beauty than my outer appearance. Moreover, it seems that the truer your inner beauty, the less you care at all about how others perceive you, inside or out. I want to get there. I'm trying to get there, but I still find myself critical of my outward appearance in most pictures that cross my path.
Maybe the first step to letting go of the importance of how people perceive you is by broadcasting to the world your ugliest face?
An old friend of mine recently began doing temporary street installations in LA called Ugly Face, where she projects "ugly" faces onto the walls of buildings in public spaces (http://uglyfacewednesdays.tumblr.com/). I admire her for challenging our cultural obsession with outer beauty. Seeing her facebook posts tonight got me thinking about all of this. So in honor of an old friend, here is my ugly face. I will admit, it took effort to try and not find a way to be cute while being ugly. I found myself trying to pick the cutest of my ugly faces, which made me realize that I wasn't doing it right.
So here are my ugliest. Stephanie you have my permission to have my ugly faces. Thanks for reminding me to laugh at myself and not take how others might perceive me so seriously. You rock.
Like most women, I have spent too much time worrying about how I look, but I have never stopped to think about how who I am affects this perception. The women that are most beautiful to me are the ones whose inner beauty shines. Likewise, the men that are least attractive to me are the ones that have "ugly souls," regardless of outer appearance.
As silly as it may sound, thinking about what I see as beauty in others is changing how I strive to cultivate beauty in myself. I would much rather be remembered for my inner beauty than my outer appearance. Moreover, it seems that the truer your inner beauty, the less you care at all about how others perceive you, inside or out. I want to get there. I'm trying to get there, but I still find myself critical of my outward appearance in most pictures that cross my path.
Maybe the first step to letting go of the importance of how people perceive you is by broadcasting to the world your ugliest face?
An old friend of mine recently began doing temporary street installations in LA called Ugly Face, where she projects "ugly" faces onto the walls of buildings in public spaces (http://uglyfacewednesdays.tumblr.com/). I admire her for challenging our cultural obsession with outer beauty. Seeing her facebook posts tonight got me thinking about all of this. So in honor of an old friend, here is my ugly face. I will admit, it took effort to try and not find a way to be cute while being ugly. I found myself trying to pick the cutest of my ugly faces, which made me realize that I wasn't doing it right.
So here are my ugliest. Stephanie you have my permission to have my ugly faces. Thanks for reminding me to laugh at myself and not take how others might perceive me so seriously. You rock.
 |
| Yes, I'm still wearing my jacket and scarf as I blog on my couch. I may be too tired to change clothes, my initial excuse was that it was cold when I got home, but the heater has been on for an hour and I haven't moved... |
Saturday, November 5, 2011
5,827 words...
Wow. I wish I had more time to write. This week has forced out more writing than my six weeks of summer vacation. I really think that the difference is writing without looking back instead of losing my energy worrying about word choice and reviewing each small piece over and over. Maybe the writing is better that way, but it does not matter if it keeps me from ever finishing. I'm excited that I'm actually making slow but steady progress forward.
Since I know that you're enthralled by my progress, you can track me here:
http://www.nanowrimo.org/en/participants/todaybestlife
If nothing else, holding myself publicly accountable is just one more step toward finishing a whole book. I may not make it to 50,000 words in a month, but if I make it to 30,000 words, I'll be more than pleased!
Happy Saturday!
Since I know that you're enthralled by my progress, you can track me here:
http://www.nanowrimo.org/en/participants/todaybestlife
If nothing else, holding myself publicly accountable is just one more step toward finishing a whole book. I may not make it to 50,000 words in a month, but if I make it to 30,000 words, I'll be more than pleased!
Happy Saturday!
Saturday, October 29, 2011
Hold the presses!!
I just discovered the most exciting challenge! National Novel Writing Month = 50,000 words written in November. Yes, I work about 60 hours a week, but, I get a week off in November, and always have my evenings. I think I can, I think I can, I think I can. This quote helps:
"Because of the limited writing window, the ONLY thing that matters in NaNoWriMo is output. It’s all about quantity, not quality. This approach forces you to lower your expectations, take risks, and write on the fly. Make no mistake: You will be writing a lot of crap."
Wow. I'm excited. Really excited. I'm seriously like a little kid right now. I think I must be destined to a life as a hermit by how exciting this challenge is to me. Now I have the next three days to pick my story idea. To restart one of my various previous book-writing attempts, or to start completely anew, that is the question!
If you want to join me in this adventure, check out the site:
Job satisfaction, life satisfaction
Alright, so this week has not lived up to last week in its revelatory nature, but it has been a good week. Not perfect, or over-the-top amazing, but good. I guess that few weeks in life really are perfect or over-the-top amazing, so good is satisfying enough.
When I left my old job, I left in search of job satisfaction. I was determined that there had to be a job out there that I could feel good about on a consistent basis. A job where I would not while away the hours feeling frustrated, bored, slave-like, and stressed simultaneously. For awhile, I even lost faith that such a job existed, at least within my grasp. This is why making the leap to teaching was such a gigantic leap of faith for me. I was willing to give up money and prestige for the fantasy of job satisfaction, but I was uncertain that job satisfaction was truly possible.
Fast forward one year four months, and, at least this week, I feel satisfied. Teaching, though full of its own stresses, moments of failure, long long hours, and public scrutiny, is also immensely satisfying when it goes well. Breakthroughs with challenging students, sparks of love for learning, and being able to share myself as inspiration to kids that really need it, feels good. Really good. My students are smiling more, I am smiling more. Thursday I actually came home from work with a big smile on my face and that sense of job satisfaction that had seemed so illusive.
Yes, I still feel stressed, and yes, I come home more tired than I ever have from any job, but I also feel passionate for the first time ever about what I do. This morning, I woke up to read a teaching book of my own volition. No one is making me read it. I want to read it. I am deriving pleasure from reading it. It is called The Book Whisperer, written by Donnalyn Miller, a teacher that requires her sixth graders, regardless of reading ability, to read forty substantial books of their choosing each year. I expected to find a book about reading less-than engaging, but instead it has reminded me of my own deep love for reading and ignited my desire to inspire that same love in my students. It is stuff like this which makes me love teaching.
Even this week, teaching has been a mixture of emotions, sliding back and forth on the job satisfaction scale. I began the week being observed by teachers from a neighboring school during a few of my less-fine moments, leaving me feeling shitty about my teaching, (for lack of a better adjective). It is such a strange part of teaching that what works one day may not work for the same students the next. It also seems to be a common trend that the moments I am the most proud of, the moments I wish the whole world was watching, are also the moments that my revolving door of observers are not present.
I ended the week feeling like I still have so much room to grow but also like what I'm doing is working, a little bit at a time. The students are beginning to do the right thing on their own, quieting down more quickly as I also grow in my own patience. I can also feel their engagement and love for learning grow, even if it is still just an emergent sprout in need of a lot of encouragement. I expect that there will be a thousand more highs and lows, including what seems to be the weekly moment where I ask myself how long I will last as a teacher. However, a deep, underlying sense of job satisfaction is beginning to emerge that is spilling over into my greater sense of life satisfaction. I have heard it said that teaching is more than a job, that it is a lifestyle choice. I am beginning to feel what this means. Today, at least, it is a satisfying choice.
When I left my old job, I left in search of job satisfaction. I was determined that there had to be a job out there that I could feel good about on a consistent basis. A job where I would not while away the hours feeling frustrated, bored, slave-like, and stressed simultaneously. For awhile, I even lost faith that such a job existed, at least within my grasp. This is why making the leap to teaching was such a gigantic leap of faith for me. I was willing to give up money and prestige for the fantasy of job satisfaction, but I was uncertain that job satisfaction was truly possible.
Fast forward one year four months, and, at least this week, I feel satisfied. Teaching, though full of its own stresses, moments of failure, long long hours, and public scrutiny, is also immensely satisfying when it goes well. Breakthroughs with challenging students, sparks of love for learning, and being able to share myself as inspiration to kids that really need it, feels good. Really good. My students are smiling more, I am smiling more. Thursday I actually came home from work with a big smile on my face and that sense of job satisfaction that had seemed so illusive.
Yes, I still feel stressed, and yes, I come home more tired than I ever have from any job, but I also feel passionate for the first time ever about what I do. This morning, I woke up to read a teaching book of my own volition. No one is making me read it. I want to read it. I am deriving pleasure from reading it. It is called The Book Whisperer, written by Donnalyn Miller, a teacher that requires her sixth graders, regardless of reading ability, to read forty substantial books of their choosing each year. I expected to find a book about reading less-than engaging, but instead it has reminded me of my own deep love for reading and ignited my desire to inspire that same love in my students. It is stuff like this which makes me love teaching.
 |
| A recommended read for all teachers! |
I ended the week feeling like I still have so much room to grow but also like what I'm doing is working, a little bit at a time. The students are beginning to do the right thing on their own, quieting down more quickly as I also grow in my own patience. I can also feel their engagement and love for learning grow, even if it is still just an emergent sprout in need of a lot of encouragement. I expect that there will be a thousand more highs and lows, including what seems to be the weekly moment where I ask myself how long I will last as a teacher. However, a deep, underlying sense of job satisfaction is beginning to emerge that is spilling over into my greater sense of life satisfaction. I have heard it said that teaching is more than a job, that it is a lifestyle choice. I am beginning to feel what this means. Today, at least, it is a satisfying choice.
Sunday, October 23, 2011
Revelations
Wow! There must be something in the air! This week has been full of some gigantic, life-shifting, earth-shaking revelations for me. Now that I have you on the edge of your computer chairs, I better find a way to convey these realizations in a way that lives up to my description of them.
1. Okay, so this first one probably is not going to rattle your world in any way, but I still want to share. In talking to my principal and teaching coach, it finally hit me that I've been trying to be someone that I'm not in my teaching style. Be yourself seems like such an obvious piece of life advice, but sometimes it is the obvious advice that is hardest to take. I spent the second half of my week being more myself in my teaching and it worked! Not to jinx anything, but I feel like I'm in the midst of finding my own true teaching style, which in turn is helping me to be a better teacher and like my job better.
2. Now I'm feeling like I built these big revelations up a bit too much, but number two came to me in a dream. Friday morning I awakened with a renewed sense that we choose to be here, to experience what we experience, and that I wouldn't trade it, even though it can seem really hard at times.
I'll try to sum this dream up into as few words as possible. I dreamed that I was driving through a series of underpasses with my mom, husband, brother, and grandfather, who passed when I was a teenager. The car broke down, so we were forced to walk on the shoulder of the freeway with large trucks zooming by and a sense of impending danger. The road began to narrow and become quite steep, making it hard for all of us to keep going. I wanted someone to carry my grandfather, but he refused and insisted that he had to do it himself. Eventually, the road ended at the foot of stairs leading into the most beautiful clouds I had ever seen. My grandfather told us that heaven can be hard to find but that we can all get there if we try. He said he was ready to return and asked if we wanted to join him. I was certain that I was not ready yet, that I still had a lot to do in life, that even if it was hard, I was nowhere near finished.
I awakened from this dream feeling as though it were real. All day, I felt renewed by the sense that I want to be here and experience what I have chosen.
3. The last of my revelations came with a lot of self-reflection this weekend. I was feeling extra emotional and sensitive in my relationships with others and instead of brushing it all off, I allowed myself to feel sad. In my sadness, I asked myself why I feel how I feel, and the self-reflection that ensued was the most productive I can ever remember. I felt like for once I really understood where all of my feelings come from. I also felt compelled to be more direct in communicating with the people in my life that matter to me. The results of which, so far, have been greater peace with the little things that bother me and what I believe to be the strengthening of my relationships.
SO... This week of revelations has reminded me to:
1. Okay, so this first one probably is not going to rattle your world in any way, but I still want to share. In talking to my principal and teaching coach, it finally hit me that I've been trying to be someone that I'm not in my teaching style. Be yourself seems like such an obvious piece of life advice, but sometimes it is the obvious advice that is hardest to take. I spent the second half of my week being more myself in my teaching and it worked! Not to jinx anything, but I feel like I'm in the midst of finding my own true teaching style, which in turn is helping me to be a better teacher and like my job better.
2. Now I'm feeling like I built these big revelations up a bit too much, but number two came to me in a dream. Friday morning I awakened with a renewed sense that we choose to be here, to experience what we experience, and that I wouldn't trade it, even though it can seem really hard at times.
I'll try to sum this dream up into as few words as possible. I dreamed that I was driving through a series of underpasses with my mom, husband, brother, and grandfather, who passed when I was a teenager. The car broke down, so we were forced to walk on the shoulder of the freeway with large trucks zooming by and a sense of impending danger. The road began to narrow and become quite steep, making it hard for all of us to keep going. I wanted someone to carry my grandfather, but he refused and insisted that he had to do it himself. Eventually, the road ended at the foot of stairs leading into the most beautiful clouds I had ever seen. My grandfather told us that heaven can be hard to find but that we can all get there if we try. He said he was ready to return and asked if we wanted to join him. I was certain that I was not ready yet, that I still had a lot to do in life, that even if it was hard, I was nowhere near finished.
I awakened from this dream feeling as though it were real. All day, I felt renewed by the sense that I want to be here and experience what I have chosen.
3. The last of my revelations came with a lot of self-reflection this weekend. I was feeling extra emotional and sensitive in my relationships with others and instead of brushing it all off, I allowed myself to feel sad. In my sadness, I asked myself why I feel how I feel, and the self-reflection that ensued was the most productive I can ever remember. I felt like for once I really understood where all of my feelings come from. I also felt compelled to be more direct in communicating with the people in my life that matter to me. The results of which, so far, have been greater peace with the little things that bother me and what I believe to be the strengthening of my relationships.
SO... This week of revelations has reminded me to:
- Be myself! Don't try to be someone that I'm not.
- Remember that I choose to be here.
- Allow myself the space to feel because feelings push self-reflection and growth.
- Be more open and direct with the people in my life.
- Take action to stop repeating the same old patterns.
Sunday, October 16, 2011
Escape
Sometimes I wish I could put life on pause and truly soak up the good moments.
We just got back from our little escape and even though I tried to savor every moment, it all still slipped by too quickly. This blog is beginning to feel more and more like a time capsule where I can capture the good memories for safe keeping.
We stayed at the cutest little cabin up in the redwoods in Cazadero. The location was gorgeous, beneath towering thousand year-old trees, adjacent to a beautiful clear creek, only 25 minutes from the crashing surf in Jenner. One of the highlights for me, was sitting underneath the stars, staring up at the nearly-full moon through the sky-high redwoods. We also discovered the quirky little town of Guerneville, full of good food, locally crafted beer, and an unusually high concentration of gay men, (whose overheard stories undoubtedly added to our entertainment).
The little bed and breakfast cottages where we stayed, (Elim Grove: http://www.elimgrove.com/), were run by a lovely young family who also owns a bakery on site. Our cottage was decorated with carefully picked vintage items that all came together perfectly. Sometimes "old decor" is a dissuading factor for me, but this was not old because it had been sitting there for decades, it was old because it was stylishly selected to all fit together beautifully in a modern way. If you're inspired to go, we recommend the Creekside Cottage or the Paradise Grove Cottage, as they offer the most privacy. We hope to return soon!
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
Control
I had big plans for my fall break. I was going to clean my house, get caught up on my to-do list for school, and take a trip with Alex. Instead, I got sick. The trip with Alex is still happening, but everything else has shifted into slow motion. Yes, I have muddled my way through some household chores and crossed off things on my school to-do list, but for the most part I have lazed around the house, watched t.v., surfed the internet, and thrown myself a pity party. While most of those activities would warrant envy from me on a typical busy day, the reality is that I have a really hard time sitting still. If I am not engaged in something either socially fun or personally productive, I go stir crazy.
Which makes me wonder, why is it so hard to sit still? Why do I feel like I always have to be accomplishing something? Why does "relaxing" not feel like an accomplishment in itself?
Even sitting here now, writing this all down, makes me feel stressed out. My house, while orderly, is far from clean and is definitely disorganized in places. Just going out to the backyard with the dog to pick the last of summer's tomatoes made my anxiety levels rise as I looked around and saw how much work I could be doing out there. Sitting on the couch now, the disarray of dvds in our entertainment center is making me desperately want to go straighten them out and then dust the entire house...
Earlier, when talking on the phone with my mom, she made the astute observation that maybe I need to become more comfortable with not always having complete control over my classroom. I know she's right. I also know that this connects to my obsession with having a clean house. Cleaning is something I can control, so a messy house negates this sense of control. Likewise, being sick pisses me off because I do not feel like I'm in control of my own body.
Now, I'm laughing to myself, because I've created an entry that makes me sound like a control freak, but I know that I'm not alone. I also know that I have gotten better at letting go of some control in my life. For example, living with Alex has taught me to let some things go, like learning generally not to let the garage and backyard bother me when they're not as orderly as I'd like. I have also learned to pick my battles, which is further testament to the fact that I'm not actually a control freak, (or at least not an out-of-control one!). Moreover, I have to let some things go in order to leave my classroom at a godly hour, otherwise I'd be straightening desks and cleaning surfaces until I was the last teacher left at school!
So, now, I wonder to what degree the desire for control is a bad thing and to what degree it serves a purpose. It seems like many accomplishments in life are fueled by the self-discipline that accompanies the desire for control. Likewise, I derive a sense of happiness, superficial or not, from checking items off my list and putting my life into an ordered state. Even so, I agree with my mom that I need to learn to let go of control more often and become more comfortable in this space.
Accordingly, I am now sitting here trying to embrace being sick. I am trying to allow myself the space to do nothing, which is terribly difficult for me.
Which makes me wonder, why is it so hard to sit still? Why do I feel like I always have to be accomplishing something? Why does "relaxing" not feel like an accomplishment in itself?
Even sitting here now, writing this all down, makes me feel stressed out. My house, while orderly, is far from clean and is definitely disorganized in places. Just going out to the backyard with the dog to pick the last of summer's tomatoes made my anxiety levels rise as I looked around and saw how much work I could be doing out there. Sitting on the couch now, the disarray of dvds in our entertainment center is making me desperately want to go straighten them out and then dust the entire house...
Earlier, when talking on the phone with my mom, she made the astute observation that maybe I need to become more comfortable with not always having complete control over my classroom. I know she's right. I also know that this connects to my obsession with having a clean house. Cleaning is something I can control, so a messy house negates this sense of control. Likewise, being sick pisses me off because I do not feel like I'm in control of my own body.
Now, I'm laughing to myself, because I've created an entry that makes me sound like a control freak, but I know that I'm not alone. I also know that I have gotten better at letting go of some control in my life. For example, living with Alex has taught me to let some things go, like learning generally not to let the garage and backyard bother me when they're not as orderly as I'd like. I have also learned to pick my battles, which is further testament to the fact that I'm not actually a control freak, (or at least not an out-of-control one!). Moreover, I have to let some things go in order to leave my classroom at a godly hour, otherwise I'd be straightening desks and cleaning surfaces until I was the last teacher left at school!
So, now, I wonder to what degree the desire for control is a bad thing and to what degree it serves a purpose. It seems like many accomplishments in life are fueled by the self-discipline that accompanies the desire for control. Likewise, I derive a sense of happiness, superficial or not, from checking items off my list and putting my life into an ordered state. Even so, I agree with my mom that I need to learn to let go of control more often and become more comfortable in this space.
Accordingly, I am now sitting here trying to embrace being sick. I am trying to allow myself the space to do nothing, which is terribly difficult for me.
Monday, October 3, 2011
Two Years
In this age of over-sharing, I debated about whether or not posting this would cross a line for me. On the one hand, Alex and my story is our’s, and there is something special about keeping it that way. On the other hand, there were many people that made our wedding such a memorable day and it means something to me to be able to share these memories of love and gratitude with them too. It is also a story that I want to save and treasure for my whole life, so somehow publishing it symbolically adds to its permanency for me. I wrote it not to put on a show but with the sincerity of a story that I hope to share with my kids someday. So, at the risk of over-sharing and possibly causing some eyes to roll, I share with you my love letter to Alex.
If this is the kind of thing that makes you gag, save yourself the trouble and just don’t read it!
Dear Alex,
Two years ago, I was a nervous mess. I was afraid of getting the bird flu. I was afraid of forgetting some detail that would make our wedding fall apart. I was also excited, very excited. I had spent the past year waking up every morning with a smile on my face because I was planning our marriage. I am not exaggerating. Every morning following your proposal, I would wake up with a smile on my face as soon as I remembered that we were getting married.
I knew that you were going to propose. I was pretty sure that you asked my dad if we could get married when you had lunch with him in San Francisco. But, I liked that you were trying to keep it a secret, so I was not too probing with my questions. However, from that point forward, I was dying to know when you would ask. On our nine-year anniversary, when you took charge of our plans for the day and drove me out to our favorite little restaurant on the beach, I was certain you were going to ask. As the Irish music played loudly and we wove through the hills to the Pelican Inn, I could hardly take the anticipation. Then, as brunch unfolded and a walk on the beach ended with no question, I felt let down. It was not happening.
You were sneaky and you did not even realize it. By not asking on our anniversary, I thought that you probably wouldn’t ask anytime soon. I thought that there was still a small chance for my birthday, since August 8, 2008, 8-8-08, was a day that I had been looking forward to since I was a kid. However, then too, as an entire day passed packed with activity and no question was asked, I felt disappointed. All that remained of my 25th birthday was a dinner with my family, which did not seem like the setting you would choose. I'm happy that I was wrong.
The degree of fanciness should have tipped me off. You should have warned me to dress a little more nicely. I should not have drank such a weird combination of champagne and mixed alcohol with our friends before dinner. However, as everyone went around the table and shared their favorite memories of me, and as I realized that you were poised to go last and feeling nervous, it hit me that this was it. I could not eat a single bite of my food. I could hardly hold back my tears of happiness and excitement. Even with the queasiness from my strange pre-dinner drink selection, I was elated. I will always remember how you began to inch back your chair as you told the story of us to my family. Somewhere there is film footage that Debra recorded. That truly was one of those life-altering moments that will always be seared into my memory.
You were so sweet with the decorated room at the Sheraton after dinner. I remember devouring the left overs from dinner as my nerves settled. I remember sitting in the window seat, looking out over the capital park, calling and texting everyone in my phone book. The trip that followed to the Oregon coast and British Columbia was a dream, a dream filled with every Dixie Chicks song ever recorded, my over-priced Canon GL2, and countless lists of wedding guests and ideas.
Planning actually ended up being a lot of fun. For an entire year, we worked through the list of things to do, traveling to different venues throughout Northern California with my family, tasting delicious food, chasing down Celtic musicians. We really did travel all over Northern California to pick the perfect spot. I will always remember the displeased look on my dad’s face when we pulled up to that cute little B&B in Placerville. I will also always remember my face when I realized that the pretty little winery that put on quite a pretentious show outside of Placerville expected guests to use outhouses!
Nothing could compete with true wine country, however. The changing leaves of autumn and the sun shining just right through all those leaves felt perfect. No matter what anyone else says, despite its pomp and circumstance, the Napa valley is one of my favorite places on earth. I love its rolling hills and pretty towns. I love how it offers an escape from the ordinary, a chance to feel like you’re living a fairy tale even if afterward you go home to a 650-square-foot one-bedroom apartment in Berkeley. Visiting Hans Fahden Vineyards with you was like visiting my fairy tale wedding. We thought that we were playing make believe for the day and teasing ourselves with an option out of reach. Instead, it was just one of many visits before it was our fairy tale for the day.
After dragging my dad, Debra, and Kaitlyn to pretty much every option within 200 miles of Sacramento, we finally got them to Hans Fahden and Auberge du Soleil. I will always remember sitting around that round table in Auberge’s incredible restaurant, drinking delicious wine, voting on the winning venue. Even sitting in that glorious restaurant perched up in the hillside, Hans Fahden won, unanimously. I was beside myself that we were actually going to get married in my favorite spot imaginable. I had thought that a cliff side elopement over the sea in Mendocino was what I wanted, but Hans Fahden let me dream even bigger.
With the venue selected, it was time to pick the vendors. One of my favorite moments was when I suggested to the first caterer that I might like cheeseburgers as an entree. How lowbrow of me! At least I got to have them for our rehearsal lunch, gosh darnit. I really enjoyed breaking tradition and pushing boundaries with the planning and budgeting. A rehearsal lunch instead of dinner? Yes, and it allowed for a leisurely outdoor meal that could not have been better. “Flowers in Napa Valley for less than $1,500, are you crazy?” Yes, and I made it happen beautifully. Or, how about the magic of the Chad? Caridwyn and Sons, with Chef Chad and planner Deana was one of our best finds. What delicious and inventive food! The tasting in itself was an event and Deana kept us on our toes with the linens in that fabulous warehouse and by chasing us around to keep us on schedule for the big day, (not to mention also chasing our crazy-but-talented-but-late-but-dramatic photographer).
I was so excited when we thought to ask my Uncle Patrick to marry us. I did not want a stranger to do it and there was no better person in our families to stand in front and orate than Uncle Pat. It didn’t hurt that he is such a close extension of our family. Our day trip to Napa to get his officiant license was another of my favorite memories. Lunch at that little Italian restaurant in Sonoma was perfect. I will also always remember practicing our vows around the table in Dani and Pat’s breakfast nook, anticipating getting to say them in front of everyone, spending all that time crafting the words for our ceremony together.
After everything was planned, all that there was left to do was wait, which brings us back to two years ago from today. With the bridal shower and bachelorette party done, the dress fitted, all of the little details attended to, two years ago today, I was the most anxiously excited that I had ever been in my life. I took my eco-fair trade wedding band out of its pretty little teal bag to try it on repeatedly. I recited the vows that we so carefully wrote together just for practice. I was so excited.
If this is the kind of thing that makes you gag, save yourself the trouble and just don’t read it!
Dear Alex,
Two years ago, I was a nervous mess. I was afraid of getting the bird flu. I was afraid of forgetting some detail that would make our wedding fall apart. I was also excited, very excited. I had spent the past year waking up every morning with a smile on my face because I was planning our marriage. I am not exaggerating. Every morning following your proposal, I would wake up with a smile on my face as soon as I remembered that we were getting married.
I knew that you were going to propose. I was pretty sure that you asked my dad if we could get married when you had lunch with him in San Francisco. But, I liked that you were trying to keep it a secret, so I was not too probing with my questions. However, from that point forward, I was dying to know when you would ask. On our nine-year anniversary, when you took charge of our plans for the day and drove me out to our favorite little restaurant on the beach, I was certain you were going to ask. As the Irish music played loudly and we wove through the hills to the Pelican Inn, I could hardly take the anticipation. Then, as brunch unfolded and a walk on the beach ended with no question, I felt let down. It was not happening.
You were sneaky and you did not even realize it. By not asking on our anniversary, I thought that you probably wouldn’t ask anytime soon. I thought that there was still a small chance for my birthday, since August 8, 2008, 8-8-08, was a day that I had been looking forward to since I was a kid. However, then too, as an entire day passed packed with activity and no question was asked, I felt disappointed. All that remained of my 25th birthday was a dinner with my family, which did not seem like the setting you would choose. I'm happy that I was wrong.
 |
| Just hours before you proposed. In retrospect, you looked a little nervous! |
The degree of fanciness should have tipped me off. You should have warned me to dress a little more nicely. I should not have drank such a weird combination of champagne and mixed alcohol with our friends before dinner. However, as everyone went around the table and shared their favorite memories of me, and as I realized that you were poised to go last and feeling nervous, it hit me that this was it. I could not eat a single bite of my food. I could hardly hold back my tears of happiness and excitement. Even with the queasiness from my strange pre-dinner drink selection, I was elated. I will always remember how you began to inch back your chair as you told the story of us to my family. Somewhere there is film footage that Debra recorded. That truly was one of those life-altering moments that will always be seared into my memory.
You were so sweet with the decorated room at the Sheraton after dinner. I remember devouring the left overs from dinner as my nerves settled. I remember sitting in the window seat, looking out over the capital park, calling and texting everyone in my phone book. The trip that followed to the Oregon coast and British Columbia was a dream, a dream filled with every Dixie Chicks song ever recorded, my over-priced Canon GL2, and countless lists of wedding guests and ideas.
Planning actually ended up being a lot of fun. For an entire year, we worked through the list of things to do, traveling to different venues throughout Northern California with my family, tasting delicious food, chasing down Celtic musicians. We really did travel all over Northern California to pick the perfect spot. I will always remember the displeased look on my dad’s face when we pulled up to that cute little B&B in Placerville. I will also always remember my face when I realized that the pretty little winery that put on quite a pretentious show outside of Placerville expected guests to use outhouses!
 |
| Score on the Celtic musicians! |
Nothing could compete with true wine country, however. The changing leaves of autumn and the sun shining just right through all those leaves felt perfect. No matter what anyone else says, despite its pomp and circumstance, the Napa valley is one of my favorite places on earth. I love its rolling hills and pretty towns. I love how it offers an escape from the ordinary, a chance to feel like you’re living a fairy tale even if afterward you go home to a 650-square-foot one-bedroom apartment in Berkeley. Visiting Hans Fahden Vineyards with you was like visiting my fairy tale wedding. We thought that we were playing make believe for the day and teasing ourselves with an option out of reach. Instead, it was just one of many visits before it was our fairy tale for the day.
After dragging my dad, Debra, and Kaitlyn to pretty much every option within 200 miles of Sacramento, we finally got them to Hans Fahden and Auberge du Soleil. I will always remember sitting around that round table in Auberge’s incredible restaurant, drinking delicious wine, voting on the winning venue. Even sitting in that glorious restaurant perched up in the hillside, Hans Fahden won, unanimously. I was beside myself that we were actually going to get married in my favorite spot imaginable. I had thought that a cliff side elopement over the sea in Mendocino was what I wanted, but Hans Fahden let me dream even bigger.
With the venue selected, it was time to pick the vendors. One of my favorite moments was when I suggested to the first caterer that I might like cheeseburgers as an entree. How lowbrow of me! At least I got to have them for our rehearsal lunch, gosh darnit. I really enjoyed breaking tradition and pushing boundaries with the planning and budgeting. A rehearsal lunch instead of dinner? Yes, and it allowed for a leisurely outdoor meal that could not have been better. “Flowers in Napa Valley for less than $1,500, are you crazy?” Yes, and I made it happen beautifully. Or, how about the magic of the Chad? Caridwyn and Sons, with Chef Chad and planner Deana was one of our best finds. What delicious and inventive food! The tasting in itself was an event and Deana kept us on our toes with the linens in that fabulous warehouse and by chasing us around to keep us on schedule for the big day, (not to mention also chasing our crazy-but-talented-but-late-but-dramatic photographer).
I was so excited when we thought to ask my Uncle Patrick to marry us. I did not want a stranger to do it and there was no better person in our families to stand in front and orate than Uncle Pat. It didn’t hurt that he is such a close extension of our family. Our day trip to Napa to get his officiant license was another of my favorite memories. Lunch at that little Italian restaurant in Sonoma was perfect. I will also always remember practicing our vows around the table in Dani and Pat’s breakfast nook, anticipating getting to say them in front of everyone, spending all that time crafting the words for our ceremony together.
 |
| Beautiful flowers on a "budget" (above/below) |
After everything was planned, all that there was left to do was wait, which brings us back to two years ago from today. With the bridal shower and bachelorette party done, the dress fitted, all of the little details attended to, two years ago today, I was the most anxiously excited that I had ever been in my life. I took my eco-fair trade wedding band out of its pretty little teal bag to try it on repeatedly. I recited the vows that we so carefully wrote together just for practice. I was so excited.
 |
| Our vows |
When finally the big day arrived, I was beside myself that I actually fell asleep the night before. Sharing the room with Kaitlyn was one of my best decisions because having her there with me, instead of sleeping in a room alone, was surprisingly comforting. I remember awakening, shocked that I had fallen asleep at all. Granted, I had not slept much that week, so I was probably lulled to sleep by pure exhaustion. You and I spent the morning together, holding hands, greeting family members and friends that stayed in Calistoga. It was a good morning. I felt rebellious spending time with the groom before the wedding. It was important to me, though, that we had time together amidst all of the chaos. In other words, that multi-hour couples spa session the afternoon before was part of my master plan for togetherness!
After visiting my dad, who had set-up shop across the street from our boutique hotel to write his father-of-the-bride speech in that cute cafe, it was time for us to part ways and get ready. It turned out that I had miscalculated the time it would take to get me ready, or failed to calculate rather, but it retrospect, the time we spent that morning is more important to my memory of our wedding than more time primping. That was another way that I was not the typical bride, I insisted on primping myself (with the help of bridesmaids!), instead of hiring a team to get me ready. After all, what are bridesmaids if they’re not put to work? Despite my slight miscalculation in timing, we managed to be ready just in time for the music to begin and for our crazy photographer to arrive. We also managed to have a wonderful time shut away in that little room atop the stairs, getting ready with my mom, grandma, Aunt Dani, and Debra. My mom and grandma were so cute with their creation of a beaded dragon fly for my bouquet.
Walking with my dad down the stairs from the bridal preparation room was surreal. I remember exactly how the early autumn light hit the leaves on all of the trees. The high level of anxiety made me super aware of every sensation. I remember the breeze and watching my pretty bridesmaids giggle on ahead of me. Even though the walk to the aisle probably only took a few minutes, it felt like an eternity, like I was moving in slow motion. I was flooded with the emotions of walking with my dad beside me, about to “give me away.” I was surprised by his nerves and deeply touched by his sweet words and support. There was no one else with which I would have rather spent those last few pre-ceremony moments. Having my arm through his reminded me of all the years and San Francisco trips we had walked together through the city like this.
 |
| Bridesmaids about to walk... |
 |
| A very special walk with my dad. |
Finally, we crossed the bridge and the procession stopped for a moment to wait for our reluctant flower girl to make her appearance. I could see the eyes of our friends and family peering toward me, trying to catch a glimpse. My heart beat faster as I realized that this was it. I had been trying to capture every minute detail in our walk and now it was really time. I remember walking toward the aisle and smiling so big with anticipation at every guest along the way. Each face someone special to us. It was such a cool feeling! But, there was one set of eyes that I was most anxious to find. Your’s.
I will always remember peering past the standing guests and seeing your grinning face. I was so happy. I could not take my eyes off of you. Our long-planned moment was finally here! As we said our vows I felt excited and emotional. I had the kind of smile that cannot be stopped. I also had a few tears escape. The moment that Uncle Pat declared us man and wife, officially combining our two last names, everything felt so right. You were finally my husband. A title much more deserved that boyfriend of fiance.
As we walked away from the ceremony and the Irish music played in celebration, I felt triumphant. My favorite wedding picture is of us leaving the ceremony to have our few moments alone before the pictures and the guests and the celebration. I loved the way that the Irish music floated through the vineyards, reaching us alone in the little garden past the bridge. I really had never been so happy in my entire life.
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| Just married! |
The time that followed was such a hub-bub of pictures, and greetings, and hugs. I had not anticipated how difficult it would be to have practically everyone that we care about in one space and not be able to stop and fully spend time with them. As we took our photos, I was so anxious to get up to the guests. I felt like we were missing our own party! Our photographer swore up and down that when it was all over, it was the pictures we’d be happiest to have, but I’m still not sure that I agree with her. While the pictures were nice, I still wish she could have shot the wedding party before the wedding and left us with a bit more time to mingle. Even so, my memory of being together with our wedding party, that same beautiful autumn light pouring across the hillside, Celtic music floating from atop the hill, is cherished just the same.
When finally it was time for our big entrance and Michael Jackson started thumping, I could not help but feel the excitement of the celebration ahead of us. I was so tickled that our wedding party actually participated, more-or-less, in our vision of a dance party entrance. All of the groomsmen rocked it. My brother, Justin, and your uncle got down. My bridesmaids were a little less enthusiastic, but still managed to bust a few moves. Opening the doors to the caves for dinner and getting to see the tables lit up in the candle light was another moment that I had anticipated in the planning. I was not disappointed. It was stunning.
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| The caves! |
Dinner was a blur of trying to greet every guest and shoveling down the delicious food in my corseted state. The toasts were so meaningful. Beginning with Justin, who had us all in tears and rolling with laughter. Followed by Liz and her slip about you staying the night at our apartment in college, (not that it was actually a secret, but it made for some good laughter). Then, of course, my father’s masterpiece. Father-of-the-bride speeches are always my favorite at weddings, and my dad’s was, of course, the best I have ever heard. Again, we laughed and cried and felt grateful for all of the love and support in our lives.
Dancing. Lots and lots of dancing followed. My favorite, of course, was our dance together to “Stand by Me.” Watching my family get down on the dance floor was a close second. Thanks to my bridesmaids, I was able to relive the jumping up and down to the Black-Eyed Peas “I got a Feeling” from my bachelorette party. I remember finally taking off my horribly-uncomfortable-but-adorable purple heels and realizing that I had not noticed how much they hurt for hours because I was so pumped up with adrenaline. Cutting our cake was fun, even if we did not get to actually eat any of it that night. Removing my garter was more of a show than I had anticipated and, of course, watching Kiley catch the bouquet was pretty cool, since she really was the one that got married next!
As with any good party, it ended too soon, but I felt truly satisfied. I had the time of my life. Really, that is the song that we should have played last, instead of “You Shook Me All Night Long.” We thought we were funny. Even though I could have danced for hours longer, that will always remain the best dance party of my life. I did not mind leaving, because it meant that I finally got to be alone with you. Getting out of the parking lot will always be a funny memory, my dad’s Infinity decorated by the bridesmaids and my younger cousins, covered in lipstick, toilet paper, and some border-line inappropriate comments. Arriving at the hotel, the bar patrons cheered for us and we made our way up to one of the prettiest little suites I have ever seen, decorated like the room of a modern Spanish castle.
Our honeymoon was a collage of the fanciest rooms we’ve ever stayed in on our own, suites and cottages in wine country and on the coast. We had so much fun hauling all of our gifts up to our room at the Fairmont in Sonoma and opening them one-by-one in front of the fireplace. I hope to revisit each of the spots we stayed one day, although I know that they will never compare to those sleepy early-autumn days following our wedding. Even with our love for travel, I’m glad that we did not rush off on some stressful trip afar. Instead we got to truly relax and luxuriate together in the memory of our beautiful wedding.
The days and weeks that followed our wedding, I would awaken and replay every memory that I could gather, smiling to myself at how lucky I felt. At some point, I stopped this ritual, which is why now, after two years of marriage, I wanted to write it all down for us to remember and share with our kids and grandkids. Even with all that I wrote down here, there are still so many details that go untold. I just hope that by recording what I was patient enough to put down in words, the other little happy memories continue to come back.
The other day upon marveling at another couple’s forty years of marriage, we made it our goal to go 75 years together. Not 75 years married, but together. That would mean that we both have to live to be 92. That would put us at 66 years of marriage. I think it’s a good goal. Who knows, maybe we’ll even make it to 75 years of marriage and live to be 101! Maybe we’re selling ourselves short with the first goal. All I know is that each year I get to add with you by my side is a year that I’m incredibly lucky and grateful.
I love you.
Olivia
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| Yummy dinner + speeches |
Dancing. Lots and lots of dancing followed. My favorite, of course, was our dance together to “Stand by Me.” Watching my family get down on the dance floor was a close second. Thanks to my bridesmaids, I was able to relive the jumping up and down to the Black-Eyed Peas “I got a Feeling” from my bachelorette party. I remember finally taking off my horribly-uncomfortable-but-adorable purple heels and realizing that I had not noticed how much they hurt for hours because I was so pumped up with adrenaline. Cutting our cake was fun, even if we did not get to actually eat any of it that night. Removing my garter was more of a show than I had anticipated and, of course, watching Kiley catch the bouquet was pretty cool, since she really was the one that got married next!
As with any good party, it ended too soon, but I felt truly satisfied. I had the time of my life. Really, that is the song that we should have played last, instead of “You Shook Me All Night Long.” We thought we were funny. Even though I could have danced for hours longer, that will always remain the best dance party of my life. I did not mind leaving, because it meant that I finally got to be alone with you. Getting out of the parking lot will always be a funny memory, my dad’s Infinity decorated by the bridesmaids and my younger cousins, covered in lipstick, toilet paper, and some border-line inappropriate comments. Arriving at the hotel, the bar patrons cheered for us and we made our way up to one of the prettiest little suites I have ever seen, decorated like the room of a modern Spanish castle.
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| Time to dance the night away! |
Our honeymoon was a collage of the fanciest rooms we’ve ever stayed in on our own, suites and cottages in wine country and on the coast. We had so much fun hauling all of our gifts up to our room at the Fairmont in Sonoma and opening them one-by-one in front of the fireplace. I hope to revisit each of the spots we stayed one day, although I know that they will never compare to those sleepy early-autumn days following our wedding. Even with our love for travel, I’m glad that we did not rush off on some stressful trip afar. Instead we got to truly relax and luxuriate together in the memory of our beautiful wedding.
The days and weeks that followed our wedding, I would awaken and replay every memory that I could gather, smiling to myself at how lucky I felt. At some point, I stopped this ritual, which is why now, after two years of marriage, I wanted to write it all down for us to remember and share with our kids and grandkids. Even with all that I wrote down here, there are still so many details that go untold. I just hope that by recording what I was patient enough to put down in words, the other little happy memories continue to come back.
The other day upon marveling at another couple’s forty years of marriage, we made it our goal to go 75 years together. Not 75 years married, but together. That would mean that we both have to live to be 92. That would put us at 66 years of marriage. I think it’s a good goal. Who knows, maybe we’ll even make it to 75 years of marriage and live to be 101! Maybe we’re selling ourselves short with the first goal. All I know is that each year I get to add with you by my side is a year that I’m incredibly lucky and grateful.
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| Happiness. |
I love you.
Olivia
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
Honesty.
I'm tired. I feel beat up by teaching this week. So far it has been such a roller coaster of happy and frustrating moments. This week I'm on the frustrating down-swing. I feel ineffective, which I know must be the root of my dissatisfaction. I just don't get why sometimes I feel highly effective and other times I feel like I suck. I've been told time and time again that this is what it feels like to be a first-year teacher, but sometimes it is hard to remember what it feels like when it's good. I'm nowhere close to throwing in the towel, I am just feeling frustrated and think it's important to be honest about it.
Even with this feeling, I don't regret my decision to teach. It has changed my life. It has made me tougher and given me back a lot of my self confidence in dealing with people that went missing for awhile. It has gotten me out of working in a windowless cube for eleven hours a day, (not that I'm working less, because really I'm working more, and for far less money). I now know what the weather is like outside and get to actually be outside during daylight hours. I get to watch the seasons change and hardly sit in front of a computer. I get to talk to people all the time, young and old. I finally use my Spanish. I get to be a dork and the kids love me all the more for it. Even if my hours are long, I get some flexibility in choosing when to spend them, and I get more than three weeks off a year. Most days I feel like I'm making an important difference in the world, even if it is hard.
So with that little dose of honesty, I will gather myself together and do it all again tomorrow.
Even with this feeling, I don't regret my decision to teach. It has changed my life. It has made me tougher and given me back a lot of my self confidence in dealing with people that went missing for awhile. It has gotten me out of working in a windowless cube for eleven hours a day, (not that I'm working less, because really I'm working more, and for far less money). I now know what the weather is like outside and get to actually be outside during daylight hours. I get to watch the seasons change and hardly sit in front of a computer. I get to talk to people all the time, young and old. I finally use my Spanish. I get to be a dork and the kids love me all the more for it. Even if my hours are long, I get some flexibility in choosing when to spend them, and I get more than three weeks off a year. Most days I feel like I'm making an important difference in the world, even if it is hard.
So with that little dose of honesty, I will gather myself together and do it all again tomorrow.
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Make it fun, damn it.
Today I had a lot of time to reflect on my teaching at our regional professional development day.
The last couple of days have been challenging. The students were beginning to go through the routine of the day with fewer reminders from me, so I took a couple of steps back, and as soon as they smelled the freedom, they went wild. The last two days have been me stepping back into my vigilantly strict role, which has left my classroom a little somber and a little boring, at least to me. I have a hard time being strict and fun simultaneously.
However, today, I declare no more! I am determined to be fun and strict simultaneously. Students that cannot handle it will just sit out of the fun. Problem solved. I've noticed that some of the best days that we've had have been days with little surprises, little quirky joyful moments, little rewards. One of my favorite moments of this school year so far was when a student taught our whole class, including me, how to shuffle, (see below).
With this recent memory in mind, I have a plan for tomorrow. In listening to me go on and on about all of the attention seeking behavior in my classroom, my husband suggested that I have a mini-talent show at the end of the day on a semi-regular basis if the students earn it. I'm so excited to see how it goes. I'm going to have three different randomly selected judges that write positive adjectives on their white boards after each round instead of scores. I'm also going to have a theme song (Huskies got talent, yes we do, huskies got talent, we'll show you!). And, last, but not least, I'm going to have a game show host. Now, all I need is the talent! I know there are dancers, rappers, joke tellers, magicians, and singers all looking for a little extra love in my room. Here's to hoping that they come out of their shells and participate tomorrow...
I'm determined to make it fun, damn it. For their sake and mine.
The last couple of days have been challenging. The students were beginning to go through the routine of the day with fewer reminders from me, so I took a couple of steps back, and as soon as they smelled the freedom, they went wild. The last two days have been me stepping back into my vigilantly strict role, which has left my classroom a little somber and a little boring, at least to me. I have a hard time being strict and fun simultaneously.
However, today, I declare no more! I am determined to be fun and strict simultaneously. Students that cannot handle it will just sit out of the fun. Problem solved. I've noticed that some of the best days that we've had have been days with little surprises, little quirky joyful moments, little rewards. One of my favorite moments of this school year so far was when a student taught our whole class, including me, how to shuffle, (see below).
With this recent memory in mind, I have a plan for tomorrow. In listening to me go on and on about all of the attention seeking behavior in my classroom, my husband suggested that I have a mini-talent show at the end of the day on a semi-regular basis if the students earn it. I'm so excited to see how it goes. I'm going to have three different randomly selected judges that write positive adjectives on their white boards after each round instead of scores. I'm also going to have a theme song (Huskies got talent, yes we do, huskies got talent, we'll show you!). And, last, but not least, I'm going to have a game show host. Now, all I need is the talent! I know there are dancers, rappers, joke tellers, magicians, and singers all looking for a little extra love in my room. Here's to hoping that they come out of their shells and participate tomorrow...
I'm determined to make it fun, damn it. For their sake and mine.
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