Rolling Rock

My Dad and I were at the house doing home repairs and cleaning everything up.  His attitude caused me to furrow my brow several times today.  He is like many fathers; gruff at times, but sincere and fair.  Anyway, he was being unusually nice as we worked.  I raked the leaves and he said: “Wow, you really got those up nice.”  I took out the bike to fix its brakes and he offered to help once he finished sanding down the backyard fence.  He told me to mix the cream-colored paint so he could cover up the unattractive water sealant lining the house…but hesitated and added: “But do what you were gonna do first, if you were busy.”  I wasn’t busy; I’d devoted to day to helping him out since I knew he leaves back to Michigan tomorrow.  It hadn’t occurred to me, though, that combined with my upcoming travel it may be a long time before I see him again.  It’s nothing new, because my Dad has been making that end-of-summer trip back to the Midwest since 1992 and I’m 27 now instead of 11; it’s a familiar routine.  But something is different this time around and, obviously, my Dad realized that.  Is it that, at last, I’m paying for things using my own money?  Or that this time, my departure is for employment and self-enrichment instead of for school?  Or maybe just because I’ll be farther away than ever before.  Whatever the reason, seeing him become such a softie even made me a bit sad today.

Even as a kid, though, I was always concerned about my Dad living out there by himself.  How does a person get by on phone calls and holiday visits for over fifteen years?  Frankly, I find it amazing how much influence my Dad has had on me given that he lived halfway across the country the entire time I was in junior high and high school.  It’s wasn’t bad, just awkward to explain and certainly better than the alternative many people face…having no Dad at all.  He’s had to go to work and suffer through those Michigan winters and entertain himself all in that same old University apartment; his family almost couldn’t help but drift away during that time.  So, while he’s concerned about me, he needn’t be concerned for I’m very much an emotional rock.  But perhaps I shouldn’t be concerned, either, because I must have gotten it from somewhere…and given all that’s happened over the past 15 years, he must be a rock, too.

Dated

Because I twisted my ankle playing basketball on Monday I’ve been going on long walks instead of runs.  Nothing like pumping that Daft Punk through the headphones at high volumes while waiting for cars to stop at the crosswalk.  It’s has been a little frustrating, given that I’d actually dropped below 200lbs. for the first time in awhile.  I learned this when I was in Brian’s bathroom one morning a coupla weeks ago.  I had taken a shower and hopped onto the scale–Brian then knocked on the door yelling that Paul was on the phone and I should shout my La Piñata order into the phone…I ordered pork enchiladas.  So, yeah, walking not running…and I seem to twist and turn my ankles every few months and it just sidelines me because my preferred forms of exercise are running, which involves running, and basketball, which involves stealing, shooting and running (which, according to Brian’s joke–and I couldn’t help but chuckle–is why Black people dominate the sport).  The minor injuries could be taken as a positive sign, though…couldn’t injure myself if I weren’t running around, right?  Tomorrow I’ll wrap it up tightly and give it a shot.  I’ve been missing my Ace of Base.

Several unassociated thoughts just came to mind.  There’s a chick in Happy Donut right now wearing a sequined beret.  During summer school one of my students actually inserted a paper clip into an electrical socket.  The swimming at the Olympics is getting really old.  I’m seeing Tropic Thunder tomorrow with Akilah, but I couldn’t help myself and I saw it tonight on my own.

I’m dated now for Korea.  I have until September 16 to get all of the intolerance out of my system so that I may embrace the culture of Changwon.  You know, so I’m not criticizing people in the Korean donut shop equivalent for their headwear.  I’ve found some valuable and entertaining accounts of a traveler/teacher at this site which my readers may find enjoyable.  And, otherwise…I’m ready to roll!

Completely Unrelated

I’ve gotten into this bad habit lately, of not having cash on me when going out to eat.  It’s been accidental every time and I don’t mind paying; I throw my money away on so much other stuff.  But somehow I’ve just been beaten to the punch with the credit card or the bills I have are too big.  So I end up offering to buy something else or to pay the person back at some unforeseeable time and generally feeling a little like a deadbeat.  At least there are people that owe me money.

One of the happiest moments in my life was the first time I went to Costa Rica.  I was 22, I think, and my cousin of just a few years younger rounded up all of his friends and drove us to Mall San Pedro in his van.  There were maybe six of us: myself, a few non-English speaking friends, my cousin (just a FANTASTIC young man; I’ve gotta get back in contact with him) and Raquel, who could speak a little, I had been told.  We went for ice cream and I ordered ron con pon strictly because I didn’t know what it was.  My cousin look excited, saying that it was a great flavor but he was kidding me.  The group laughed at me when I grimaced through a bite of nasty Rum Raisin (how did I not realize that it was Rum Raisin after looking at it?), but it was a funny moment for me, too.  I started talking to Raquel to be social; to address someone other than my cousin.  Her English was great; much better than that of her friends.  I teased her, pretending not to understand her perfect speaking but when she caught on she turned the tables and stopped talking to me.  It was excruciating to be ignored, but she had me hooked with that devilish act.  Raq, and all the rest of them just scattered years later.  I know things have changed, but I so wish I could find her today.

I’m psyched for karaoke bowling tomorrow.  I’ll take the camera.

So, umm…there’s three things that are completely unrelated!

Levels

1:25am.  It’s so good to be not working.  But I can’t honestly say that I wouldn’t be up at this hour if I needed to be on campus at 7:30; it’s just that instead of slogging through papers, I’m sitting here in my boxers happily listening to Mary Carillo at the Olympics and typing this.  The stress level is greatly reduced.

Unfortunately, the energy level was greatly reduced today, as well.  It took me three and a half hours to get outside to send the documents to Korea.  Is international FedEx supposed to cost nearly $50?!  I normally use the Postal Service so I really don’t know, but it seemed like an incredibly high price for a folder with six or seven papers inside.  I also skipped out on seeing Lauren for the first time since probably March.  She had invited me to the driving range, but it would have been all the way in S.F. and I probably could have joined her, but I just didn’t have the will to do it all.  Hitting those golf balls actually would have been satisfying if our interaction didn’t go well!  I want to see her, though; sometime soon.

More-Than-Decent Friday

It’s nearly 3:30am and I’m at Happy Donut instead of on my way home after watching the Opening Ceremonies and a little Dreamcast with Captain E.  It’s just that Friday was such a good day — one of those where every task I’d set out to do was accomplished.  Out the door at 8:30 to jog, and the energy was there to take me much farther than normal!  I have been so used to my route near the old high school, up Second Street, down East Avenue and back home that it never occurred to me that I could run downtown.  The idea came to mind when I saw Andy running there once.  And so, I extended the run through downtown before jogging home.  I won’t pretend I wasn’t trying to show off to all of the people driving their vehicles downtown, but they were probably repulsed at the sweaty mess I was by that point.

The teaching became much more likely this week; the background check and Apostille certification are IN MY HANDS.  I got the fingerprints last Friday, received the criminal record check on Wednesday and just got the int’l stamp today from the agency in Sunnyvale.  Now I just send them in and wait for my work visa.  There’s an outside chance I could take that earl September assignment if the visa process goes quickly.  More likely, it will be later in the month or even October, but the point is that I’m checking off items on the list.

Washed all of my clothes.  Cleaned all of the dishes.  Even MADE MY BED for once!!

Played basketball even though I had run hard this morning.  I figure I’m a young guy and I should be able to.  Played okay only.  I don’t know why I’ve been throwing the ball away so much lately.

Finally over to visit MK3 and Captain E to watch the program.  Pretty incredible.  The scroll and the Tai Chi artists; the fireworks themselves were massive enough to create a pollution problem even if there hadn’t been one and the lighting was among the coolest things I’d ever seen.  I told Captain E that by the time the Olympics arrive 20 or 30 years from now the only way to match the spectacle will be to kill someone or to blow up a monument or something.  I love watching the procession of athletes from all of the nations as well.  It makes me want to be in the Olympic Village…all those hot, athletic female athletes from every country and they’re all elated and giddy about being there?  I would at least be able to get some email addresses, right??  Anyway, quite lovely, quite incredible.

And now, Happy Donut!  It’s time to leave, for sure, but this (plus getting into the bed) is a nice end to a pretty good day.

Clutter of Treasures

Sorting through all of the junk in my bedroom was a pain yesterday.  It kept me awake until 1am again, wasting all of the sleep I had recovered the night before.  But, of course, it was good to look through all of the stuff.  For a while, I’d been saving my movie ticket stubs and they reminded me that I actually paid to see Twisted, 13 Going on 30, The Matrix: Revolutions and Ella Enchanted.  I also paid for a sandwich in this cafe about 15 minutes ago and I’m wondering where the hell it is.  Be right back.

Hmm…she says it’s coming up right now.  I saw cards that I’ve saved, and letters.  Louise sent me a coupla Christmas cards and Chad, too.  Birthday cards from my parents.  Mike and Aimee’s baby announcement and Paul and Jen’s wedding announcement were in there.  Every Jamiroquai and Air CD, plus dozens of others.  Fifty million cables and wires, old keyboards and AC adapters for mystery electronics, the sickle probe I bought when I was convinced I could perform basic dentistry on myself and videogames and movies I’ve borrowed from friends and forgot to return.  I also never realized just how many textbooks I’ve had over the years.  Lots of education texts, of course and environmental science and epidemiology, psychology to go along with the bio, chem and algebra refresher books passed down from my sister back during high school.  Seeing all of the teaching materials from grad school and from the CSU got me analyzing my own teaching now and wondering about what it was all for.  I think I use about 1% of the lessons we’d developed in the science-area teacher courses, but there was still some useful stuff in there.  I’ve just got to take the time to go through it (like, during the summer) instead of transferring it all from one folder to another.

What else?  Statements from the collection agency (remind me to change my phone number again), and work evaluations (all positively stellar).  Odds and ends: a playbill from the show I helped organize in Seattle, a fountain pen that I couldn’t seem to get writing, and photos upon photos.  Odds I scan them and get them all up on Flickr??  Slim to none…but the idea is there!

So now the clutter is gone and I’m primed to maximize efficiency.  I sound like Master P when I say that.  Come to think of it, why haven’t I heard from him in a couple of months?  Maybe it’s time to pull out a paper and envelope so I can add to his clutter of treasures.

Halloween Teaser

Slummed around home for most of the weekend.  Yesterday, though, looking in the mirror I had on my Ryan Seacrest pants and I realized I was wearing my costume for Halloween 2008!  No, it has nothing to do with Ryan Seacrest, hell no…but I think it will be a worthy successor to the Jack-in-the-Box masks from the past coupla years.  Now I just need a flowing, blonde wig…

Throwback Week

Taking a day off from school partly to hang out with Paul before he returns to Hawaii and partly to get away from the youngsters for a moment.  It’s been good to spend time with the old buddies, playing basketball after work and drinking and video games and Taco Bell.  Ever since coming back from Tahoe, it’s been a throwback to five years ago when we all worked run-of-the-mill crappy jobs and had no other responsibilities.  It has been immensely fun.  I can’t get too comfortable in this situation, however.  I went to sleep at 1am, 4am and 3am on Sunday, Monday and Tuesday nights, waking up at 6am every time so that even on the short drive to the cafe this afternoon I was craving a nap.  I’ve pushed myself lately so that I could do it all: plan lessons and correct work and teach and hang out, but attention to the parents and sister and job planning have suffered as a result.  And I’m concerned about the summer school students today.  Although I stayed up to write the lesson and filled the entire whiteboard with the details and explanations I would have verbalized in class, I don’t know who the substitute could possibly be and I fear that nothing was accomplished in class.  Anyway, I’ve got to change the focus back to the more important things now.  Paul is on vacation and Brian is, well…Brian, so they’re not facing any stress due to Throwback Week.  I can’t waste any more days, though.  My shit is NOT yet set up, no matter how much I talk about it, and I’ll be damned if I’m embarrassed in September and telling people about what I meant to do.

Ain’t Too Tired To Blog

Or drunk either.  DFancing at clubs aleays seems to work the same way for me…there’s my persistent hesitance to dance cuopled with me downing beer anfter beer after drink after drink and “psyching” myseldf up to get out there.  THen, I hear a song I like, get out there and STAY out there for only a couple of them because I waited so kong that the club is about to close.  Tonight at the Saddle Rack wasn’t so much different, but I had an inordainte amount of fun — KD and Justin, Paul and Jen…I wa the fifth wheel at a place in which I’d never been past the lobby because it was too white or too expensive…but my first time all the way inside showed me that the place is JUST FUCKING FUN.  Country music and a little bit of rock, and dancing, dancing, dancing, dancing, dancing, dacning, who the hell is in this place who is not dacning??  The Saddle Rack isn’t a lounge, it’s not a place to be cool, it’s a place to get the uck rid of whatever the hell could be troubling.stressing you out.  And it was fun, to watch and to dance and maybe there was more watching than daincing but it’s been awhile and I was more than satisfied.  Man, I’ve had some genuine delights this sumemr.  At some point, I’ll have to catalogue them all.  As you can see, I haven’t spell-checked this post in order to emphasize my inebriation while typing it.  I really need eto get the the fucking bed, though, so let me stop being foolish and go.  Ver nice.  Very nice.

Berkeley Pad

I’m typing from my sister’s apartment in Berkeley while she’s on vacation.  There were only certain plants that were supposed to be watered but I watered them all because I completely forgot which ones.  I wonder how to describe her…grounded yuppie?  Advanced hipster?  Her radio is tuned to NPR and she has soy milk and Irish oatmeal in the kitchen, no doubt from the Whole Foods two blocks away.  There’s Bombay Sapphire in the freezer, too, but there’s nothing to mix it with.  Is there anyone who takes their gin straight?  With soy milk?  Since there wasn’t much food here I trotted to a restaurant and ate $25 worth of sashimi.  God damn, I’m gonna run out of money, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.  I used to pride myself on having $0.08 in my account and “acquiring” food from roommates, office refrigerators and catered events.  I used to ride the bus across the Bay and become intimately familiar with the streets I walked.  Now I think nothing of filling up the gas tank no matter how high the price rises and it’s mostly work, recover, Internet and sleep.  Well…and eat at Happy Donut.  So I think that’s why I’m still here at my sister’s three hours after I arrived.  Sitting here, doing similar stuff, but it’s a change of pace somehow…or at least a change in scenery.  It’s what we all need sometimes.