She glows with it.
Life changes to the point of annoyance.
At 16 years old I was positive that by the time I checked off year 25 I would have life hog-tied at my feet. I would stand over her, radiating, projecting a confidence easily found. At 16, it’s easy to look at adults who haven’t “made it” and pick up, and repackage, their life decisions for them. My God, could they not see? If they would have done this, then they wouldn’t have had to deal with that. At 25, I apologize to everyone for ever thinking those thoughts.
Lists, Lists, Lists
I’ve checked off some more life accomplishments since the last time I logged in here;
I saw the United States Men’s National Team play down the street from my house. The match, won with a header in stoppage time, has me even more head over heels with the beautiful game.
I’ve been to more shows this month than I have in a while. Zola Jesus at the Crescent, Frequis at Joe’s. Heading to see the Lemonheads, hopefully, tomorrow. Stephen Malkmus and Saul Williams shortly there after.
Despite the photographic evident, all of it is gone. I shaved it. It was time. I usually wait until the day after school is over. You know, a return to myself, someone more than a teacher. However, this year I haven’t felt like that was needed. This year, whether it has been my teaching, my students, my coworkers, or just a massive paradigm shift, I finally feel settled. I am me even during the school year. Feels good.
In my own personal soccer escapades, I returned to playing after over five months off due to torn ankle ligaments. I had an assist, completed nearing 90% of my dribbles and had two quality shots on goal. I’m pleased. Looking forward to getting my fitness back.
Oh, yeah. Carter has been gearing up too:
You’re a defense lawyer?
Obligatory Work Talk
I enjoyed the break. Always do. The lady is already extending her arms, waiting to welcome the next. I’m not so anxious. Frayed edges still yearn to be cauterized. The website, the soccer team, the yearbook, the graduation of another crop of students past and present. I need closure from the work year. That closure gives me the ability to rest, unencumbered by the guilt of a relatively easy going summer. Soccer, reading, bench press challenges and aimless days counting my son’s new accomplishments.
Kids Love Snow
Carter enjoyed the break. He was strapped in and hauled up the mountain. He handled the ear-popping car ride quite well. At the top he reached pay dirt; snow.
You Deserve Nothing
I finished a book. My first non-education related literary venture of the English teacher school year. “You Deserve Nothing”. A quick, solid read. I wasn’t as overwhelmed by the prose as I assumed I would be. Authors (Tom Perrotta, Alice Sebold & A.M. Homes) I adore were adamant supporters of the author and the book and in them I was positive the reading experience would be powerful. Instead, it was rather routine. The content, less fascinating with each reoccurring headline, but thought-provoking none the less. Its greatest gift was the conversation it inspired. I guess you can’t really ask much more from a work of art. Reading it wouldn’t be a waste of time, but you could do better.
Now You Can Lose Both at the Same Time
The new device needed protection. I happily scoured the internet while I waited for my back ordered iPhone to arrive. I found this, Book Book, and immediately order one. A wallet and a phone case, wrapped in a quality leather. It looks nice, smells better and feels perfect in my hand. How natural, to open a book to retrieve the information you are looking for. I still pat my back pocket, wondering where my wallet is form time to time. I guess that behavior will correct itself eventually. For now, I’ll enjoy the efficiency and the style of the Book Book.
Feels like a bunch of product placement. I guess it kinda was. Shameful. The shame is felt. Next time less hyperlinked content. Lo siento.
If you didn’t know any better you’d think he was doing that intentionally.
The holidays were nice.
Nice in the way they usually are; enjoyable reconnections and a slower pace. The kid still doesn’t care about Christmas. Here is your gift son/kid rips off a single corner/boredom strikes/leaves present to play with preexisting, unrestrained toys/parents slightly disappointed.
The holidays were nice.
The greatest aspect of any break is staying home with Carter. I shot a couple videos.
When will this ever heal?
My ankle is getting better. I kicked a ball around with the family in my parents’ oversized backyard. Touches are softer, lighter. Ball skills are pushing back through. Back heels with the bad foot are still too heavy, feels like I am dragging the meat of my foot instead of holding it tight.
Addition, subtraction, substitution.
The break is also allowing me the opportunity to refresh my ipod. With the acquisition of a pair of Beats, I’m cranking through albums at twice the speed. With that said, I’m stuck on an old favorite. Nine Inch Nail’s Broken EP. Easily one of the angriest albums recorded, such a departure from the sinister pop of Pretty Hate Machine. The tunes and their videos changed my perception of rock and roll and the heaviness of music. It was during my first few listens of the Broken EP, all those years ago, that I came to realize that heavy was the tone, was the mood, and not how chunky heavy gauged strings ring when they are down-tuned to the depths of hell. Life lessons.
On a side note, I can’t stand that my students’ vision of Nine Inch Nails is found strictly in “Closer.” No, that is Trent Reznor, not Snape.