Sunday, March 21, 2004
UPDATES
The month of March has gone by quickly- and I couldn't be more grateful. The other day a colleague mentioned that there are less than 40 days left in the school year - for the seniors, anyway. The rest of the high schoolers will have three weeks after that so the end of this long road of teaching isn't too far from the end. Of course, I am going to teach summer school (the money is too good to pass up, and I plan to go to New York this summer), but at least the hectic daily schedule of educating 95+ minds will be gone for two months.
At this point, I am doing what I can to coast. I made the decision to make the last quarter of the school year easy: we are only going to do the research paper (yawn!) and read Great Expectations (Charles Dickens). I expect that most kids will want to do neither of these two things, but since we will only be concentrating on that, I should say that they should be quite grateful!
*Is grateful spelled "grateful" or "greatful"? I must look that up soon.
In other news, the new man and I are doing very well. He is ...well, there are just no words. The best part of it all is that there are no expectations- we just kick back and take it easy, enjoying each other's company and the company of our now mutual friends. This is honestly the first time I have dated someone who actually has a decent number of friends to share and do things with. This is good in two ways: he will not feel the need to spend every waking moment with me and only me (familiarity can sometimes breeds contempt), and two- he can add to my pool of friends/acquaintances, and vice versa. I enjoy watching him interact with my friends. In many ways I feel like I am showing him off without having to use words. He glides in and out of conversations with my friends effortlessly and knows just what to say to make everyone feel at ease. I have sat back and just watched him "work" and it's truly awesome. Why does this mean so much to me, I wonder?
My last boyfriend- I met not one of his friends. I only met his cats, really. He had two- no, three- and they were nothing but terrors. He loved them like family members, lovers, best friends. He always promised that I would meet his mysterious friends, and that we would have such fun. In the eight months we dated, he had still failed to introduce me to anyone he could really call "friend." I am not sure what is more sad- the fact that he had no friends, or that I didn't see this as a serious red flag. In defense of my ignorance I must say that the times that we got to see each other were far and few between due to my work and the fact that we lived over 45 minutes away from each other. So when we saw each other we wanted to be alone- away from people and simply in each other's company. Agh. Enough about him. Clearly, nothing panned out and I am not sore or bitter about it anymore.
My man and I have many things in common. The largest one of course, is music. He plays drums in a band and he is damn good at it. As I type this, he sits a few feet away from me, practicing. It's loud, but it sounds good- especially since he is playing to some of his favorite musicians on CD. You go, baby. Most recently, we have been checking out local music scenes, practicing guitar together, and coming up with ideas for me to play "out" somewhere. We have our eyes on a local coffee shop that I wrote about some months earlier. My largest problem has been compiling original music that I am happy with. So far I have a few original numbers, (we have recorded two of them), but they need much work and I just don't have the time right now (could summer get here a littler faster, please?) Of late, I have been turning to Joni Mitchell's CD "Court and Spark" for sources of lyrical inspiration. She is truly a lyrical and musical genius. If I could only have 10 minutes with her - the questions I would ask! Joni, if you read my blog...talk to me! LOL.
The other thing we have in common is our past. My man and I have had similar childhoods in that our parents were not the best at parenting, and we have both suffered somewhat because of it. Many times we have had discussions late into the night discussing the things that went wrong, how we have recovered, and how we would do things differently were we to have kids. These conversations only add to my desire to really know him. I could go on about that, but I don't want to make this blog ultra-mushy. Interestingly enough, however, I have finally met someone who feels undecided about having children as I do. We share the same fears about bringing human beings of our own flesh and blood into the world: it helps to discuss these things that I have been mulling over for such a long time.
The other day someone asked me if I was "in love." Scratch that. She asked if I thought he was "the one." I told her I couldn't say that I knew that. I most certainly feel that I would like this to be something long term- definitely. But love? What is love? Do I feel it? There are moments when we have conversations that seem to last for hours that I think I feel it, know it, experience it, give it. There are moments, like now, when I look over at him (he doesn't know what I'm working on ) and I feel like I am in love- look at what he can do with his body, playing the drums like that. He plays the drums the way he lives his life: soulfully, with conviction, determination, sweat and effort. How can I not love that? I don't know...
Last month, while in Disneyland for Valentine's Day he told me he was falling in love with me. This excited me: it was certainly unexpected, but I was elated. We have not spoken of that day since. But we know it happened, and the memory still lingers in the air, pleasantly nostalgic. I don't think we need to speak about it... which brings me full circle to my first point. Here, there are no expectations. No mind games. Just contentment and growth (personal and as a couple). And that, for now, is all that I need.
The month of March has gone by quickly- and I couldn't be more grateful. The other day a colleague mentioned that there are less than 40 days left in the school year - for the seniors, anyway. The rest of the high schoolers will have three weeks after that so the end of this long road of teaching isn't too far from the end. Of course, I am going to teach summer school (the money is too good to pass up, and I plan to go to New York this summer), but at least the hectic daily schedule of educating 95+ minds will be gone for two months.
At this point, I am doing what I can to coast. I made the decision to make the last quarter of the school year easy: we are only going to do the research paper (yawn!) and read Great Expectations (Charles Dickens). I expect that most kids will want to do neither of these two things, but since we will only be concentrating on that, I should say that they should be quite grateful!
*Is grateful spelled "grateful" or "greatful"? I must look that up soon.
In other news, the new man and I are doing very well. He is ...well, there are just no words. The best part of it all is that there are no expectations- we just kick back and take it easy, enjoying each other's company and the company of our now mutual friends. This is honestly the first time I have dated someone who actually has a decent number of friends to share and do things with. This is good in two ways: he will not feel the need to spend every waking moment with me and only me (familiarity can sometimes breeds contempt), and two- he can add to my pool of friends/acquaintances, and vice versa. I enjoy watching him interact with my friends. In many ways I feel like I am showing him off without having to use words. He glides in and out of conversations with my friends effortlessly and knows just what to say to make everyone feel at ease. I have sat back and just watched him "work" and it's truly awesome. Why does this mean so much to me, I wonder?
My last boyfriend- I met not one of his friends. I only met his cats, really. He had two- no, three- and they were nothing but terrors. He loved them like family members, lovers, best friends. He always promised that I would meet his mysterious friends, and that we would have such fun. In the eight months we dated, he had still failed to introduce me to anyone he could really call "friend." I am not sure what is more sad- the fact that he had no friends, or that I didn't see this as a serious red flag. In defense of my ignorance I must say that the times that we got to see each other were far and few between due to my work and the fact that we lived over 45 minutes away from each other. So when we saw each other we wanted to be alone- away from people and simply in each other's company. Agh. Enough about him. Clearly, nothing panned out and I am not sore or bitter about it anymore.
My man and I have many things in common. The largest one of course, is music. He plays drums in a band and he is damn good at it. As I type this, he sits a few feet away from me, practicing. It's loud, but it sounds good- especially since he is playing to some of his favorite musicians on CD. You go, baby. Most recently, we have been checking out local music scenes, practicing guitar together, and coming up with ideas for me to play "out" somewhere. We have our eyes on a local coffee shop that I wrote about some months earlier. My largest problem has been compiling original music that I am happy with. So far I have a few original numbers, (we have recorded two of them), but they need much work and I just don't have the time right now (could summer get here a littler faster, please?) Of late, I have been turning to Joni Mitchell's CD "Court and Spark" for sources of lyrical inspiration. She is truly a lyrical and musical genius. If I could only have 10 minutes with her - the questions I would ask! Joni, if you read my blog...talk to me! LOL.
The other thing we have in common is our past. My man and I have had similar childhoods in that our parents were not the best at parenting, and we have both suffered somewhat because of it. Many times we have had discussions late into the night discussing the things that went wrong, how we have recovered, and how we would do things differently were we to have kids. These conversations only add to my desire to really know him. I could go on about that, but I don't want to make this blog ultra-mushy. Interestingly enough, however, I have finally met someone who feels undecided about having children as I do. We share the same fears about bringing human beings of our own flesh and blood into the world: it helps to discuss these things that I have been mulling over for such a long time.
The other day someone asked me if I was "in love." Scratch that. She asked if I thought he was "the one." I told her I couldn't say that I knew that. I most certainly feel that I would like this to be something long term- definitely. But love? What is love? Do I feel it? There are moments when we have conversations that seem to last for hours that I think I feel it, know it, experience it, give it. There are moments, like now, when I look over at him (he doesn't know what I'm working on ) and I feel like I am in love- look at what he can do with his body, playing the drums like that. He plays the drums the way he lives his life: soulfully, with conviction, determination, sweat and effort. How can I not love that? I don't know...
Last month, while in Disneyland for Valentine's Day he told me he was falling in love with me. This excited me: it was certainly unexpected, but I was elated. We have not spoken of that day since. But we know it happened, and the memory still lingers in the air, pleasantly nostalgic. I don't think we need to speak about it... which brings me full circle to my first point. Here, there are no expectations. No mind games. Just contentment and growth (personal and as a couple). And that, for now, is all that I need.
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