I very much appreciate that tomorrow is a day off. I just turned off my weekday alarms, which means I might be able to sleep until 6:30am. How exquisite.
Yes, a three day weekend, and then a four day week, is very much appreciated. It’s just what I need right now.
The air quality in the Bay Area has been so bad these past two days that we aren’t supposed to be outside. At my school this protocol is called Shelter in Place.
I can’t believe that yet another community has been destroyed by fire in Northern California – this time over 7,000 homes; the Camp Fire is the most destructive fire in California’s history.
My heart goes out to everyone who has lost everything, and to those who have lost loved ones.
I really hope it rains this year.
Well it’s only Nov 9th and I already missed two days! In a row!
Tuesday night I just couldn’t write. My mind was all over the place with election results and as I sat in front of a blank screen, my fingers poised, I knew I couldn’t wrangle my thoughts. Not even to talk about something simple or mundane. I thought on Wednesday I could write something for that day, AND the next.
Then Wednesday I just forgot all together.
I’ve been at the dojo every night either preparing for my test (Monday – Wednesday) or watching my daughter take hers (Thursday). Between that and a cold I have on my vocal cords, I’m done by the end of the day. Falling back last weekend isn’t helping either.
But I aimed for 30 posts in November and I can still do that. I guess it’s time to set reminders!
As I mentioned before, I’ve been feeling really lonely and isolated lately. I’m not sure quite why. Starting about a year ago, maybe more, I finally felt at peace with my social situation. I didn’t have as many friends as I would like, and certainly not as many close friends as I would like, but for the first time in maybe my whole life I didn’t really care. It was such a relief, and I was so grateful to finally accept my friend situation for what it was. But something shifted again, and started feeling really alone in the world.
It probably didn’t help that my husband started seeing his good friend a lot more. They have been close since college; they started a non-profit together before we met and it’s still going strong (well maybe not strong, but it’s still going). This friend recently moved across the bay to buy a house, and yet they still see each other all the time, going to concerts or other events together. They even spent five days together at a festival in Memphis in September. I wish very much I had a friend like that, someone I’ve known forever and who still wants to spend time with me. Someone I can actually see because they don’t live too far away. (I think it helps very much that this friend does not yet have children.)
It also didn’t help that when I was in LA, I was informed by mutual friends that one of my very best friends, who I no longer speak to, was in the Bay Area. Obviously I wouldn’t have been there to see her, but it was the first time she’d been back since we went our separate ways and while it didn’t necessarily hurt, I was a reminder of yet another person that once meant so much to me that is no longer in my life.
And it’s not like I don’t have any friends – I just don’t have any good friends. I don’t have anyone that I speak to, or text with, regularly, someone who would be first on my list of people to call if something good, or bad, happened. And I know all the people I do consider friends have other people they consider closer friends, while I don’t really have anyone like that. The few close friends I do have are so far away, and have been so far away for so long, that it’s hard to feel like we’re really close anymore.
I’ve come to accept that I’m not an easy person to be friends with. I would very much like to change, but I really and truly don’t know how. I don’t know how to be quieter, or a better listener, or just less… I don’t know… me. I’m just a lot and I get it. People generally like me well enough as a fun acquaintance, but I’m not good “close friend” material.
And that is fine. At least it was for a year or so, and I desperately want it to be fine again. Part of me thinks I should reach out to a few friends and try to get drinks or do something to prioritize those connections, but then another part of me just wants to go back to being okay with my relative solitude, because it’s so much easier when you don’t have to put yourself out there, to be vulnerable to rejection, or just the different priorities of other people. It’s so hard to make time for friendships, and while I am generally good at prioritizing them, other people don’t seem to be, at least not with me, which I’m guessing is some parts intentional and some parts just life.
I don’t know. Friendships are hard. I find myself reading more books these days because books are easy. Books are always there when you need them, and they never had something else they need to do. I’m hoping that with enough good books, I’ll get through the holidays and by the new year I won’t feel so lonely anymore.
Do you feel like you have enough friends?
In September, my kids and I started taking martial arts classes at a dojo in the Mission. I wasn’t sure at first if I would also participate, but after taking a few classes I decided that I wanted to do it too. I was going to be there 2-3 times a week anyway, and if I planned things right, I could take classes while my kids did.
It has been a really rewarding experience. The first half of the class consists of a lot of yoga moves, and while I haven’t been to yoga in years, there were epochs in my life when I went 3-4 times a week. It feels good to stretch my body in familiar ways.
The second half of the class is all kicking and punching and jabbing. I took kickboxing for a couple of years in college, but I forgot how much I enjoy kicking and punching and jabbing things. While I might have forgotten how much I liked it, my muscles have not forgotten how to do it. As they say, it’s like riding a bike – the muscle memory is surprisingly strong.
There is one set of moves though that were not a part of kickboxing – the blocks. There is a whole series of blocks, and punches and kicks that come off of blocks, and they are really hard for me. None of the movements come easily, and much of the time the teacher has to come stand by me and make me do the move four or five times, while the rest of the class waits and watches, before I manage it. It’s been a really long time since I tried to teach my body something new, and while I do get frustrated, mostly I’m exhilarated by the experience of trying something hard.
The next adult belt test is this coming Saturday. I’m going to give it a try. I feel confident enough in my one-steps, but I am only just learning the 20 forms I will be asked to perform, alone, from memory.
It’s strange to have a goal that is not related to working, or parenting, or the PTA, to be working toward something that is just for me, because I want to. It feels indulgent, and exhilarating. I know I’ll be proud of myself if I advance to a high white belt. And I know that if someday I earn my yellow belt, it will feel like a significant achievement.
There are a lot of areas of my life that feel stagnant, so it’s nice to have something new to work on, to have new goals to aim for. I’m glad I tried martial arts. I wonder where I will end up. Hopefully with a six pack and guns. 😉
I loathe when the time changes, but I love Daylight Savings. I wish we could just keep Daylight Savings all year round. I would much rather it get lighter later and stay lighter later. But honestly, if getting rid of the time change forever meant no more Daylight Savings, I’d choose it, because it makes no sense to mess with our bodies and minds this way two times a year, every year. It’s just ridiculous.
At least smart phones greatly reduced the possibility of forgetting the time change and screwing things up royally.
I do appreciate that falling back is the preferable of the two time changes (you gain an hour instead of losing one and your kids are ready for bed earlier instead of later), when it’s returning you to the less preferable of the two actual times, and that springing forward is the more painful time change (you lose an hour and your kids never want to go to bed but still seem to wake up at the same time anyway), but delivers you to the far superior Daylight Savings Time. At least the good and the bad of each work to even either experience out.
We only stay on “standard” time for about four months (early November to early March). Why not get rid of it all together? I know I write about this every year but seriously, changing the time twice a year sucks and offers us nothing. We need to get rid of it, and soon.
How do you feel about the time change?
…The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina, I highly recommend it.
I’m not a horror fan, and I have never really understood how the Sabrina character was originally part of the Archie comics. I didn’t watch Sabrina the Teenage Witch when I was young, though I was exactly the right age at exactly the right time.
So I don’t really fall into the target audience, and yet I absolutely love it. It’s very well done, and surprisingly well acted; Kiernan Shipka is totally bad-ass as Sabrina (not surprising as she also rocked the character of Don Draper’s daughter Sally on MadMen), but everyone else is good as well.
If you’re looking for a new show, I would definitely try out Sabrina (it’s a Netflix Original). You’ll know after the first episode if you’re into it.
I’m flirting with the idea of writing a post every day in November.
I’ve participated in NaPoBloMo before, never officially, but I’ve written a post every day before. At least I’ve tried. And I could try again.
I’ve been feeling lonely lately. And isolated. If that doesn’t drive a person to write I can’t think of what would.
But this month will be exhausting, with the midterms and their aftermath. My nerves are super charged, like the static electricity you need to release after a ride down a particularly plastic slide. I don’t want to transfer the shock to others, but how else do I rid myself of the excess?
I’m tired but it’s almost Friday. I can make it through Friday.
And maybe I can make it through the month of November, publishing a post every day.
This year my family dressed up as characters from a somewhat obscure TV series called Gravity Falls. It was on for three seasons almost a decade ago, but it has earned itself a bit of a cult following and new comic and chapter books based on the series are still released pretty regularly. When I was in Colombia I found a TON of Gravity Falls translated into Spanish!
Not many people recognized us, even though our costumes were pretty spot on.
VS
At one house they got really excited, and even asked us up for pictures, but otherwise, our costumes didn’t inspire reactions or recognition from anyone.
Last year we went as characters from Star Wars. Is there a more popular series than that? Everyone knew who we were and we saw TONS of other people, and families, dressed as Star Wars characters. We got lots of recognition for being Princess Leia, Chewbacca, Han Solo and Rey.
I was trying to determine last night, if I care about dressing as someone other people recognize. I loved making my daughter’s light-up sweater and that certainly got tons of compliments, and I thought my son was the cutest Dipper a kid could be.
Plus, it was pretty amazing when the one house went nuts, especially when they saw that my husband and I were dressed up as characters from the show too.
I know I have been super excited to recognize a character from an obscure book or movie that I love on Halloween night, and the people who are dressed as those less well-known characters seem thrilled to be recognized as well. That is definitely more fun than seeing the 100th Darth Vader of the day.
The reality is my favorite costumes are the random home-made ones that are puns or represent some super random artifact from the past. Last night someone was a perfect Clippy, the old support icon from the Microsoft Suite Apps of the early 90s.
Next year we are going as whatever we want and NOT coordinating a family-themed costume (thank goodness!). I wonder what I’ll be…
My 7th and 8th grade art teacher is finally retiring after this year from my “other school” (the one I travel to for one period a day). She clearly has a lot of anxiety about leaving her program and very much wants to find someone to fill her spot sooner rather than later so she has some time to show this person the ropes.
She somehow got it into her head that I would be the perfect person to replace her, even though I don’t have a credential in teaching art, and have only taught it once a long time ago (for a couple of years).
I don’t want to just turn her down, because she was my very favorite teacher in middle school and her class brought me the only joy those two years afforded me, so I’ve actually thought about it a bit. It would mean I’d get to stay at one school all the time…
But I’m pretty sure I am not an art teacher. I’ve taught Spanish for 15 years, and for all the angst I have about whether or not I should stay at my job, I’ve never really considered teaching anything else.
And yet… I have another one of those professional developments this Saturday and I find the thoughts fueled by imposter syndrome rearing their ugly heads again. My best friend at work will be looking for a high school job in the spring and I am reminded that I will most likely be stuck where I am forever. If I taught art, I wouldn’t have to take a pay cut, or lose any of the perks I’ve earned with my seniority, and I’d still get to start over.
I really don’t know. I’m realizing, as I consider (however tenuously) the possibility, how much of my identity is wrapped up in teaching Spanish. Not just professionally but personally. I have really enjoyed learning the language all these years, constantly striving to get better. And yet, there is a part of me that feels like I will never reach the level of fluency I hope to achieve – that it will forever be a goal out of my reach. How frustrating will that be?
When I saw my high school Spanish teacher at the professional development last month, he asked me if I spoke to my kids in Spanish. I said that I tried, but that I wasn’t very consistent. He agreed that it’s hard, and admitted that to him (he is not a native speaker either) it feels artificial, like he’s forcing something that will never come naturally.
That really rang true to me, and as I heard it I knew he was putting words to a feeling I have never been able to articulate.
How many times have I written hear about dissatisfaction and my job? So. Many. Times. Can I really just walk away from this without thinking it through? And how do I consider it seriously when I have no idea what it might even mean?
I do love Spanish in a way I love few things in life. I adore the language, and when I’m understanding it, or speaking it, I feel like it’s almost a super power. There is part of me that revels in the reality that I will always be a student of it, that there will always be something more to learn.
But there are also parts of me that wonder what I’m really doing, wondering if I’ll regret chasing after a muse I may never catch.
And of course, even if I wanted the job, the administrators might not give it to me. I don’t have the right credential, and if I taught art they’d have to find someone else to teach Spanish…
When I think about teaching art it doesn’t make me all that excited. Mostly I am considering the possibility of a change, because I plan to reach for 20 more years and the thought of doing this for that much longer is stifling. Change can be really important, especially for me, and I feel like I have to at least think about it. These opportunities don’t come around every day.