I took this picture in New York a few years ago. It’s vital to have a sense of humor when dealing with students.

I was one once myself.

And may, one day, return.

It’s interesting to be on the other side now. Clamoring for their dedication and attention. It’d be easy to get all hellbent and hurt when they blow you off or act like gargoyles in the back of the room, hating you because you’re actually making them think.

But, I have a sense of humor, too.

My friend Nadine would often run her eyes over my face and say thoughtfully, “You are so odd.” A hug would follow.

I’ve been thinking about oddities lately, wondering if my students will pick them up, if that’s a positive or negative thing.

I looked down at my work snack, an enormous bag of shelled peanuts which I crack open and inevitably dust myself with peanut dander. This bag is the size of a tire.

In graduate school, everyone carried a water bottle. In terms of carting assorted items around, I am a minimalist. I hate carrying around wallets, purses, bags, and extraneous stuff. I think it says something about the way you approach your life if you’re constantly carrying THINGS. Like, you can’t survive without it or something.

In lieu of a Nalgene, I carried a cup with me. Acquaintences and friends lovingly laughed at my bringing a cup to class. Well, why the hell not? It forces me to finish my water when I have to leave, it’s lighter than a freaking bottle of water, and the water fountain is always available to refill it with new, cool water. A cup! How novel.

I love cleaning my and anyone who will let me windshield wipers at the gas station and take jewelry off so often that I lose earrings and bracelets within weeks of buying them. I buy scrapbook stuff on sale even though I have yet to make a scrapbook, sleep with clothes that I MIGHT put on during the night, and have reoccuring dreams since I was 11 about Michael Meyers. Bad movies are the ones I cannot tear away from and I would die to meet Sylvester Stallone.

I sing scales in the car to improve my voice even though I know I’m way off, write songs about wanting to write books, and self-debate every freaking 4 months if I should spend the extra money for what I really want at the grocery store: Charmin. I never buy it.

An artist once told me, “You’ve got to embrace your weird. That’s key to good art.” Meaning, celebrate your quirks and off-ness.

Celebrate your weird.

Word.

Restlessness, a mature squirm, has hit me recently. My blog colors are reflecting that. Tomorrow I might go crazy and showcase a chartreuse background. I’m sorry if you are color-blind. Those comments are assuming you can distinguish the difference.

Because I am mature, I will not comment on the depressive cloud hovering over my state after the little toddler spanking of a BCS Championship Bowl defeat we experienced last night. go bucks. (It’s intentional – no capital letters.)

Pinned on my humongous corkboard on my wall at work, there is a white marbled frame. Inside this frame is a card with a bright drawing of a footpath trail and walker. There is a little person, unknown gender, who has packed a small bag and small blanket and chooses to go left at a Y in the road. There is a sign at the Y of the footpath. The walker has two choices, two arrows pointing opposite directions.

I seriously almost vomitted my pita after I read this.

Heaven help me.

So, the big Nan is the Speaker of the House, the most powerful woman in the United States, and some argue, the world.

These are historical moments in my life, ones that my kids will be reading about in their textbooks. However, the droning Katie Couric doesn’t always match my dissenting sentiment.

As a citizen, I should be happy and proud that a woman is Speaker. As a woman, I should be full of hope and anticipation for what this might do for our country. As the person that I am, I shrug. When is it news that white women move forward? When is it a historical day when a white woman, married for 43 years with 5 kids, 6 granddies – gets to hold a huge hammer head and surround herself with fair skinned children and say we’re on to bigger and better things. I suppose that Pelosi is supposed to stand for all women advancing. RIGHT. I think I heard that somewhere else… — oh yeah –…it was in the history of the Women’s Movement when middle-upper class white women assumed they spoke the atrocities of concerns of all women – including women of color, lesbians, single mothers, the poor, young, and illiterate women and transgendered individuals out there. We’re all one, let us unite. Right. I’m not advocating separatism, but I am advocating for equality, not blind assumption.

It’s a step in the right direction, do not misunderstand me. But it’s a step solely for gender. Not race, certainly not creed or ethnicity.

As it is for women of color and other women who are still “working and not just waiting” for the day when they see a woman who resembles and understands their plight, we’ll have to make do with what we’ve got. It’s a step, but it’s a lot smaller than we think.

I stopped doing New Year’s resolutions about four years ago and, instead, began coming up with themes for the year. I pick a theme and revisit it several times throughout the year and try to live up to the ideologies I had in mind when I came up with it.

2003 Health in all Forms

2004 Onward and Upward

2005 Authenticity

2006 Courage

2007 Spectacular!

Last year, Courage meant going the extra step and taking the time to say what I truly meant. This has taken many forms. One, there’s therapy – I force myself to admit things that are difficult and must work through. Two, there’s standing up for yourself. Mhmm, I could still work on that. Three, there’s talking back to sales people who usually bulldoze over me because I have an irrational fear of confronting sales folks in Macy’s, gas stations, or Best Buy. I rocked the schizzle on this one in 2006. It’s hard work, but it’s always worth it.

This year, Spectacular! takes on a very different form then my preceding themes. Spectacular! isn’t something I necessarily want to have or believe in – it’s my goal to build Spectacular! things, relationships, and self in 2007. This is beginning with drinking more water, preparing for the next day, choosing to love, and learning to let go of anchoring grudges. Not easy, but what is?

Spectacular! is very fitting for a number of reasons. First, Adonis and I will be getting the hell out of this city in 6 months and moving on. Holy Spectacular!. Thank you Jesus.

I have decided that if doctoral programs don’t work this year, I am going to be pursuing writing and photography full time. Now THAT’S a Spectacular! decision on my part. I feel happier already.

And – how do I put this – 2006 was the most difficult year I’ve ever lived in my life. MAN! The transitions, the inner battles with mundane commutes and depression, understanding how this whole adulthood and marriage thing works, the reality that life is not guaranteed to give me anything but a shot and it’s up to me to take it – all of it…it was so hard last year. Adonis and I both believe 2007 will be our year, a year of taking off the bandaids. The healing is over and mobility and energy shall now commence.

Spectacular!, in a nutshell, is unsinkable hope.

Jesse Angelo is my new nephew’s name. He has my cheeks.

Adonis and I, exhausted from driving all over, have arrived in our own home and almost kissed the carpet in thanksgiving. There is NO freaking place like home, your own home.

As I held my 4-hour-old boy in my arms, I started to cry over the beauty of newness. A new life. A person who knows nothing of the world except what arms can do. He knew nothing of wars, disease, brokenness, or pain. Jesse will love and grow and learn for himself what the world has to offer him.

Upon my return home, I checked my email and was shocked to see an email that a childhood friend of mine had suddenly died. Jeff Bird, who I grew up with, passed away unexpectedly in his home. He had family, a promising career in cancer research, and a smile that would knock your hat off.

Jeff sat in front of me in the 6th grade and he was one of my closest friends in grade school. He always picked me first in games and gym class and many teased us that we should “go together.” I would have, Jeff was awesome, but I remember thinking that we had so much fun together that I didn’t want to wreck it, make it awkward, and who needs to date or go together when you already get along so well. His sense of humor got me in trouble with Mrs. Daube, in whose class we loved to relentlessly gabber and laugh.

I’ll never forget when he signed my yearbook in the 8th grade. As we stood in the rain, he called me “unbelievable.” He wondered how I could be “so nice” to everyone. I remember thinking it was never hard to love or be nice to him. I made a remark and then laughed at his umbrella. He looked up at the sky and wrote something in my yearbook about the rain. That was my last memory of Jeff. I never forgot him.

Jeff, buddy, I’ll never forget you or the time I told you to roll down your pants, our jokes about Joe-Boo, and quotes from Major League. Thanks for telling me about your heart. Thanks for making me laugh so damn hard. Thanks for our time in the rain.
http://www.legacy.com/cantonrep/Obituaries.asp?Page=Lifestory&PersonId=20454011