Nice to meetcha. You can call me Crazy.

I almost slipped and outted myself as an Internet Stalker.

I went to sign up with a new gym today and when I walked in I saw a man sitting at the front desk typing on his laptop who looked familiar. He isn't unique looking, so I didn't think much of it. The other person behind the desk was Mr. SellerMan, and he had a great interest in selling the gym to me, so I tried to give him a good audience as we began our tour. When another client approached the desk, however, he called over to Mr. Familiar and said, "Oh-Kyle-can you help her check in, please?" Mr. Familiar's name was Kyle. Now, that was familiar, too. Throughout the tour, I kept thinking, 'Kyle. Kyle. Kyle. Who is Kyle?' I was trying hard to take note of the things important to me: 'Not the right elipticals. Kyle... Ipod docks. Nice. Kyle... New dumbbells. Kyle... I can change the channels on the flat screens. Good. Kyle...' And then it hit me! 'Kyle!' 'Kyle, Kyle, Kyle!' I was so happy to place him. It had been driving me nuts.

Who is Kyle, you might ask. A friend? An old coworker? No. Kyle is a personal trainer at my new gym. Before today, though, I was unaware of Kyle's position. In many ways, you could say, I was unaware of Kyle. Now settle in for a little story in which I out myself as Crazy.

Once upon a time when I was browsing wedding photographers (for no reason), I came upon a photo I loved. It led to another photo that I loved of the same event and another 30 after that. I was so intrigued by this beautiful wedding that I wanted to know more about the subjects. And then I became obsessed. I found their wedding blog which let me more into their lives and then their photo account on flickr which let me more into their personal lives. Shortly thereafter, I even...-wait for it-...started getting my hair cut by the same person who did Kyle's wife's hair for their wedding. I don't mean to insult your intelligence by stating that this was not coincidental.

Suddenly, standing steps away from Kyle while signing my life away for gym membership that- let's be honest -will end up just making me feel badly about myself for not using, I was so excited, I almost told Kyle I know his wife. WHAT???? OH MY GOD ARE YOU CRAZY???? Yes, I think I am. Because I DON'T know Kyle's wife. I know Kyle's wife as much as I know Kyle. Which is NOT AT ALL. I know her name. That is very different than knowing her. I know her hairdresser personally. That, again, is very different than knowing her. And yet--- While Mr. SellerMan was rambling about towels and lockers and security codes, I was actually thinking of a more "appropriate" way of letting Kyle know that I know about his life. AS THOUGH THAT EXISTED. Could I say, "I loved your wedding photos!!!"? No. How about, "Your wife and I share the same hairdresser!"? No. NO NO NO NO. And yet, I thought I could. I seriously did. Right up until the moment I forced myself to walk out of that gym and get into my car.

Let's just hope I have scolded myself enough or I'm going to have to drop that membership sooner than I thought.

The Library

I haven't taken pics of my classroom as I'd intended, but I did manage to take an image of the library on a whim and I thought I'd post it. I should try to post more pictures on this thing. Here's to a good intention.

Where everybody knows your name

Every once in a while I go through this "phase" of feeling like I want to live somewhere where I know everyone and everyone knows me. -Like my student body of 500 college was, as opposed to how a commune is. I don't have a family that I've ever lived near or known very well, so I can say that most of my life I've felt pretty alone. As a kid, I went to a magnet school, which was a public school but one to which I and the majority of the kids were bussed from all over the city, and later a private school that was a similar make up of individuals. So I didn't live near my school friends and I didn't see my neighborhood friends at school. Looking back, there was a lot about my life that led to me being very independent and at times even self-isolating.

Living in a city, filled with people, you are very much independent, alone, and isolated, unless you have the opportunity or desire to immerse yourself in a culture of sorts: a church community, a sports team, an elementary school PTA, a band, an office of like-minded individuals, etc. In a city, you rarely know your neighbors and you are surrounded by individuals all with their own agendas, involved in their own things. I go to work every day with a group of like-minded individuals, but I don't know these individuals outside of work. Being a teacher, working with kids all day, it's difficult to have time to interact personally or socially with your colleagues. The job is so consuming, you are too focused to sway from your responsibilities during the day and you want to get as far as you can from the stress outside of your job. At least, that's what I've found. Outside of work, I have friends I've met through various circumstances who all have their own interests and live in different parts of the city. Getting together with them can take a bit of effort and a lot of schedule coordination. I wish it was easier than that. I wish I had friends in my building or on my block who I could simply invite over to join me in watching a movie or to go next door for a drink.

And then I wonder if I really want to live in the city any longer. Something I've done for 14 years, both in NYC and here, may not be the right fit for me any longer. Do I desire small town living? On the other hand, could I bear the simplicity of small town living? Have I lived in a city for so long that I might find it too great of a challenge being part of a smaller community where everybody knows not only your name, but everything about you?

Thoughts to ponder on a rainy day.

You're only a day away

Oof. Another 10 hour day. -which is better than 13, but still beyond the ideal. I'm so tired. I think I'm going to have to see a chiropractor. My lower back hurts so much sometimes, sharp shooting pains seriously debilitate my ability to move. No bueno.

First day of school tomorrow! I have done everything-EVERYTHING-I could possibly do to be ready. My classroom looks bananas. Ba-na-nas. If you had a kindergartner, you'd be INSANE not to want your child to be in my room. For reals.
...
Okay. I lied. I need to do one more thing. (But what I said about my classroom? The truth. Beyond the truth.)

I need to pack a lunch for tomorrow! I hoped Josh would do it, but that boy is going back to school for EMT certification. (With every new season comes a new grand plan!) CPR class tonight won't be finished til 9:30. Boo. I had to eat ice cream for dessert. HAD to. And now I'm drinking wine.

Last. Moments. of Freedom.

Back to school

I got back from NYC on Tuesday, bringing travel month to a close. The following day, I procrastinated as long as possible and then dragged myself in to work. The room is in such disarray since I essentially had to move all my stuff in the week after school ended and haven't been back since. It looked like a glorified storage unit, essentially. On top of my own crap to sift through, there is a bunch of trademarked crap I need to find a place for (or pitch) left behind by ancient teacher-now retired-former room owner of 25 years whose room I inherited. Gotta love that. :/

Josh came and "helped" yesterday by power washing my rugs and then sitting on his butt working/playing on his iPhone for 2 hours while I ran around like a chicken with my head cut off. Tomorrow is the big day. Kindergarten assessments begin and I meet my first munchkin at 8 am. My room doesn't need to be finished, but it does need to have some semblance of order/cheer/welcoming nature. Good luck to me.

New friend

I made a new friend yesterday. Aren't you excited?

I met Melissa (not my new friend. confusing, I know. just stay tuned.) when I was on my expedition in Nova Scotia. She was my roommate and altogether my bestie on the trip. She lives in San Francisco and has a really hot Argentinian husband named Martin (pronounced Mar-TEEN). He is funny and Skyped with her (and inadvertently me) pretty often while we were gone. Anyway, digress digress, Melissa told me one night during our late night slumber party I-can't-fall-asleep-yet-Can-you? chats that her friend Rebecca (yes! my new friend!) had recently moved to a Seattle suburb (Redmond, land of Microsoft) in the fall of last year with her husband and was hating it. This was no surprise to me because I would hate moving from Seattle to a suburb of San Francisco just the same. I would also hate moving from Seattle to Redmond. It's just not a lateral move. Well, she also had a baby and decided to be a stay at home mom at the same time as they moved so now she's in all kinds of newness that one needs to adjust to and can't adjust to with ease without any friends nearby. So, long story short (I know, too late), we agreed I should connect with Rebecca when I got back home.

Fast forward to yesterday. We had our first date. We agreed to meet in Redmond because she doesn't know how to get anywhere (which could be considered strange since she's been here almost a year, but is not really the point here). I got to Starbucks to meet her and I realized I didn't know what she looked like. Oops. We never even told one another what to look for. I was nervous. Then I saw her. She looked really scared and she had a stroller in hand. Bingo! We hugged, started talking non-stop, laughed about her crazy neighbor (seriously more crazy than my crazy ex-landlord.) ate Thai food, walked so baby Lila could fall asleep, and went to World Market to touch everything. We then went into TOP Foods so Rebecca could get some blueberries and lemons only to discover that particular location was going out of business. Everything was 25% off. If you bought 4 bottles of wine, it was 35% off. And that pressed the crazy button in our minds and we began to shop for wine like we were never going to see it again after this moment. We each bought 4 bottles. Then she realized it would be cheaper to get diapers on sale there too. And formula. And soap. And chipotle peppers. And we made it through the register and realized we were parked nowhere near the store because we had walked so far to encourage Lila to fall asleep. CRAP! So we loaded up the stroller with wine bottles (trashy!) and balanced the diaper packages on the top (trashy!) and found other nooks and crannies for the peppers and formula. And we walked....and walked....and walked. We had been so lost in conversation, we never even noticed how far we'd initally walked. I also hadn't noticed how late it had gotten and essentially tried to make it back to the city during rush hour so what took me 20 minutes to drive in order to get there took me AN HOUR to drive home. But it was worth it.

I don't know if it's just her desperation to have friends or if we really had a magical insta-matic connection, but we've already planned date 2 for Sunday evening at her place. That will make 6 friend dates this week! I don't know if my social calendar has been this full since 2005 when I was in the heyday of my partygirl ways. At least I'll remember these evenings, which is more than I can say for the ones I had back then. But that would be a post for another day.

Sour Recipe

Concentrating too much today on things I want and don't have and are not realistic to strive for.