if i used emoticons more, i'd know how to create a clever title using them. lol.

Slam poet Rives (star of the Bravo special Ironic Iconic America) tells a typographical fairy tale that's short and bittersweet. (Recorded February 2008 at TED@Aspen, in Aspen, Colorado. Duration: 3:17.)

Teaching

This semester, I started tutoring at the writing center at Rutgers.  It pays more than minimum wage, and I like to write, so I figured... what the hell, it'd be another good side job.

Today I had two girls that needed help with their Expository Writing essays.  Expos is a class designed to teach kids to write, but it really just ends up as a device to torture freshman.  They know how to construct a sentence - at least some of them do - but they don't have their thoughts organized enough to create a 5 page paper that says anything in particular.  Or, they do a great job of summarizing the articles they were supposed to read, but they don't 'analyze' or 'interpret', so the teachers mark the paper with a 'No pass' and they freak out.  But you know what?  The freak out is kind of deserved; I probably would too.

The method of tutoring we are supposed to use is called 'minimalist'.  Basically, we are supposed to be teaching them to write, not just helping them with their papers.  And honestly, there was so much information that I had to read on this minimalist tutoring that I got a bit overwhelmed, and I was kind of nervous to start tutoring.  

But, it went really well.  I asked them a million questions and had them do some brainstorming exercises and then helped with figuring out the organization of the papers, and... my god, the papers are going to be good.  And... I didn't write them - they did.  

Not that it's about me at all, but it definitely felt awesome to help someone like that.  I mean, I teach spinning classes, but that's not really about sharing any kind of knowledge (other than correct body position on the bike, of course).  And then, I teach flute lessons and that is about getting the students to eventually teach themselves, but sometimes it can feel more like spoon feeding.  Really though, more of the problem is that I've gone about flute teaching the same way for so long that I can do it when I'm half asleep - and that isn't at all a good thing.

So in actuality, tutoring today helped me - maybe more than it helped the two girls.  It showed me that teaching is something that can be approached from many different successful angles, and there are a lot of things that I was able to try with the writing students that I think will carry over perfectly to flute teaching.  And since teaching is one of the directions I seem to be heading with all this music stuff, I think it was kind of invaluable.  

So, tutoring? Definitely a good decision - and I'm looking forward to tomorrow.

The Time Button

When I was in 11th grade and left home for school, my friend Rachel and I talked a lot about the concept of the 'time button'.

As in...

You're away from home and you want to go back, but it's still 6 weeks before Thanksgiving vacation.  You feel like the 6 weeks will never, EVER pass and that time is, in fact, standing still.  

And then... all of a sudden you're at your house in Louisiana, eating Thanksgiving dinner, and it's just a couple of hours before you're going to the mall and movies with your friends.  

And it feels like someone just pushed a button and the time passed.  It's not like you blacked out - you remember all the time in-between; but somehow, it all just happened way more quickly than you ever thought possible.

And so I've been semi-obsessed with the concept ever since.  It's the way life is, isn't it?  How do you experience the things you want to experience without your life passing way too quickly?  In other words, how do you both get to live your life and also make time stand still?

It's not possible, I know [it's the whole having your cake and eating it too thing], but I really think it gets at the essence of what it feels like to get older.  That probably sounds kind of ridiculous coming from me, but see... that button is about to be pushed again.  

In a couple of weeks I'm going to be 27.  And then just a few months after that I'm going to be (hopefully) graduating with my Doctorate.  When I moved here I was 24, and still really felt like a kid.  Now, somehow, I've gone through the 3 years of Graduate school and I'm in my late 20's.  

And so - I'm aware that in about 1 second I'm going to be 40, and then 50 and then... well... you know what I mean.  Time passes - and you can't do anything about it.

I've been debating keeping a log of stuff that happens every day.  When I was on Bike and Build, I managed to write about every day, and now I can read the bullet-pointed list and I swear I can remember every single day as a completely separate and distinct series of events.  So, I'm wondering - is it possible to do that with your whole life, or was that just because of the intensity of the trip?  And, will those memories fade, or will I be able to go back and read about them 3 years from now and still remember them just as vividly?  

In other words - can you possibly remember every single day of your life?  Or is everything destined to blur together and become one hazy period of time?  

I don't know.  I don't even know if I would want to remember every day.  That's kind of creepy, isn't it?  

Anyway, I'll end this rambling now because I need to go practice and study so that the time button won't be pushed leaving me unprepared for my exams.  But um, if anyone can figure out how to both make my life go by more slowly, and also allow me to grow up into the person I want to be... make sure you let me know, okay?

I wanna go on the fun bus.

Proof.

Things just don't always work out the way you want them to.

Cassidy died on Friday night.  He had stopped eating the day before.  I brought him to the vet Friday afternoon and they gave me some deworming medicine and some calorie paste, took a blood sample, and said they'd get back to me the next day.  

But, he just got worse and worse throughout the afternoon and evening, and by nighttime, I knew he wasn't going to make it - his system was just shutting down despite our trying to force the Nutri-Cal into his mouth.  

Zach and I brought him to emergency care at midnight, and they said they could try to stabilize him, but it would cost $400 just to put in the catheter.  And then it would be more hospitalization from there, and of course there were no guarantees.  I felt horrible about giving up, but I just don't have that kind of money. 

So that just... sucked.

He was only around for a week, but I still miss him.  Jazz does too - I almost feel more bad for her than for me - she lost her playmate.  But, we'll get used to it, I guess... she's a sweetheart and I'm really happy she seems to be doing well.  

I've been debating the option of looking for another kitten - just so they have each other when I'm gone.  But, I guess I'm not ready yet.  

I know it seems silly to be carrying on about a tiny kitten that I had for such a short time, but what can I say?  It's just cruddy.  

Zach helped me so much over Friday evening; I think I might have freaked out without him.  

I feel guilty about it, even though I know I did everything I could.  I maybe ignored a sneeze for a day, but I brought him to the vet the second he stopped eating...

So I don't know - it sucks, and that's all there is to it.

The Last Day of Summer

Wonder: why the urgency?

Enjoying curls and eyes, 

arms and smiles

comfort from ritual 

and the wish of containment.

Desire beneath curiosity,

listening and watching as though it is all that matters.

For once, no duplicity -

only truth 

and the hope of continuity.

Of the heart and mind,

I want them to be one.

Little Kittens with Big Names

World, meet Quenton Cassidy (Cass for short), and Princess Jasmine (nicknamed Jazz).

They're not 100% litter trained yet, and they're picky eaters (at least the Princess is; Cassidy, not so much - you don't get a belly like that by being picky...), but they're really just perfect.  They're sleeping in a heap right now and if it weren't for them being completely different colors, I'd have trouble figuring out where one ends and the other starts.

I don't like my apartment smelling like cats, but it might just be worth it.  Animals are awesome; I love feeling like I'm walking into a zoo when I come home.  (That might not bode well for any eventual kids, but oh well...)

Zach named Jazz; I was ready to go with Dominique (from The Fountainhead), but I think the Aladdin reference is much more apt.  

I'll let you know how their names hold up.  Meanwhile - anyone have any ideas about finalizing this litterbox thing?  I'm using this Feline Pine stuff because that's what they were supposedly trained on, but I don't know... they almost seem like they're avoiding it.  

I'm realizing I don't know anything about cats.  Ack.

With thanks to John L.. Parker, Jr.

I'm thinking Cassidy (as in Quenton) for this little guy.

Why is it so hard to take decent pictures of kittens?

Granted, these are camera-phone pictures [I didn't want to disturb them by moving to get the real camera; they're finally starting to be not-quite-so-terrified of me - so right now my left leg is completely asleep and my back is twisted into a pretzel, but the kittens are on my lap and that's all that matters.], but still - the photos really just don't do these two any justice as all.  I think there must be some kind of undiscovered law that defines the inability to capture on film anything over a certain cuteness-quota.

They need names or they won't know they're home.

I just picked up the two cutest kittens that you've ever seen in your life.  One's orange and the other is grey, and they're the sweetest little boy and girl.  

I've been wanting a cat for a long time (like...3 years now) because I know I don't have the time to care for a dog properly, but I really love animals and think having them around is awesome. I might just love animals more than people... or, most people, anyhow.  These two are brother and sister and so I didn't want to separate them - plus, I figured they can keep each other company when I'm not here.

They're just getting used to my room; they're jumping and running around and then hesitantly looking in the mirror and backing away.  It's really indescribably cute.  

I need some help with names though.  Any thoughts?  And no, I won't go for Hannah and Montana, although it is definitely tempting...

In other news, I signed up for the Pittsburgh Marathon, which is the first weekend in May.  That means I won't be doing Wildflower this year (it'll be the first time in 4 years that I don't get out there), but it makes Greyhound's MS 150 in mid-April more feasible.  

My goal for the marathon is to do everything I can to train for it - and not just go about it half-assed this time.  In other words - do the best I can.  I would love to finish in 3:40:59 and qualify for Boston, and that will definitely be my A goal.  But, considering my PR right now is 3:59:47 (from a marathon that was almost a year ago and when I was in decent running shape), I have a lot of work to do.

I did go out on Wednesday night with the club and manage about 6m at a decent sub-9 pace, so that's a start.  I need a good training plan; I'm open to any suggestions on this as well (man, I'm all about the audience participation today).  I think I want to build up a base for the rest of the year and then start rigorous training in January.  I also need to lose a good 10 pounds, and maybe 15.  Ugh, that's depressing to write, but if I want to be faster, it's too true to ignore for much longer.  Biking all summer made me strong, but it also made me... big...

Oh, and one last thing - I'm going to try to do the Bike and Build Chris Webber Memorial Ride during Christmas break (competition to be one of the first 35 alumni to sign up is fierce; it's worse than an IronMan!).  It's one week of biking and building through Florida over the New Year, so it should be a blast. The idea is for it to give me my Bike and Build fix so that hopefully I won't continue to yearn to do it again this summer when I should be looking for a job and turning into a bona-fide adult.  

The kittens just discovered my rug.  It's now bunched up into a ball and they're pulling at it from different ends.  And umm... I'm just realizing I have no idea what to do with kittens.  So in addition to the questions about marathon training and names for the kittens, I have one other question... how careful do I need to be about kitten-proofing this place?  Do I need to worry about extension cords or plugs or do they generally just survive alright?  I don't want to hurt these babies before they even have a chance to figure out I'm their new mom...

[Grinning]

Guess who arrived here unexpected* this morning?

Why does he have to be so cute?

*He called last night and asked if I wanted him to come here.  Um... Yes.  The answer is yes.

Sometimes teaching Spinning at 6AM isn't so bad.

For some reason, New Brunswick has the most amazing sunrises and sunsets...

We Ran 11 Miles on Saturday

I hadn't given up hope, exactly.  But, I was definitely at the point of thinking that guys are a species unto themselves and I had no business interbreeding.  

And then this guy...

We actually got to know each other before attempting any sort of non-platonic relationship. We had countless hours on our bikes, we saw each other in spandex and sweat and the same clothes day in and day out, and somehow... we still liked each other.  More than just liking him though, was the unending feeling of just wanting to keep finding out more about him - and it had been a long time since I felt that.  

It's not like it's been perfect; we didn't have the easiest of starts, but somehow, miraculously, it all seems to be working out.  He's young and that scares me, but he doesn't seem to mind the age difference, so I'm trying to follow that lead.  And that beginning drama?  I think it proved that we actually can work through the hard things.  And as I said, I got to know him with no thoughts of girl/boy complications.  I got to know him as a person; I don't have to worry about learning who he is while trying to figure out if I want to date him.  I already know him, and I like him a lot. 

But still, even as things seem to be on the right track... we're taking it slowly.  It's semi-long distance, in that we're a few hours away and we only see each other every other weekend or so. But, I think even that is good, for now at least.

Because, my past few relationships (if you can call them that) have been all-consuming.  I didn't really recognize the problem in it; I guess I thought that's what a relationship had to be.  But, I tended to lose myself within them, and after a while I couldn't remember how to live life on my own.  So then when the relationship invariably failed, I had to relearn who I was, and honestly, that process was almost more painful than the actual breakup.  

So now, with Zach... he's different.  He's 100% rational and does his own thing and I don't think he'll ever be the smothering type.  We talk on the phone every few days and we email and we get together whenever possible... but I still have my own life, and he his.  I'm increasingly realizing the importance of that.

I feel pretty lucky.  I seem to have someone who will make me get outside and run 11 miles when I haven't ran anywhere close to that distance in half a year (so yes, there might have been a bit of dragging of the feet).  I already told him all of this semi-nonsensical mind chatter, so I'm not even worried about posting this and 'revealing too much' - there isn't really any topic that I'm scared to bring up, and that's awesome.  He loves to bike, and god - we already experienced biking across the country together.  He's someone who will stand outside of a North Brunswick Pathmark and register voters with me for 4 hours on a Saturday afternoon.  But most importantly, he knows himself and knows me... and there's still plenty of room for me to screw everything up, but as of now... he's sticking around, and it's awesome.

Coolest Prof EVER

Organizing tea during break (no paper cups - it's green!)

It's easy.

I can't believe things are so easy right now.  My flute playing feels good, my classes are going well (despite that I have to read 3 articles before 1 today), and I get to spend time with a guy that makes me really happy.  

I don't know how or when things just started working out, but I'm definitely hoping they continue along this general path.

I'm looking forward to practicing.

I've been getting my application for this job together, and I ended up searching through recordings of past performances, trying to put together the CD that would perfectly exemplify my playing in the best possible light.

And I came across old tapes from music festivals (tapes?!?) and then a huge collection of mini-discs - some of performances, but the vast majority were from my lessons at CIM.  They were labeled with the date, the repertoire, and even some notes about the main points covered in the lessons.  

And all of a sudden I realized - wow... I really used to care. And it's not that I don't care anymore.  I do.  I still love to play.  I look forward to my lessons and I prepare for them to the best of my ability.

But, they aren't the crux of my week anymore.  I no longer break out into a cold sweat 30 minutes beforehand.  I don't change my clothes 3 times the morning of... My lessons and flute playing are a huge part of my life, but they definitely don't define my life.

And all in all, I don't think that's a bad thing.  I'm much happier now.  I live a fuller and more varied life.

But, when I looked at those mini-discs, I felt a surge of nostalgia for the time when I was so hard-core about music that nothing else ever even crossed my mind.

And I wondered... just when did I give up?  I mean, I'm sure it was more of a gradual thing than any exact point in time, but I definitely no longer consider myself an 'up and coming flute player' or anything like that.  And most of the time I'm okay with that, but then sometimes... I guess I just wonder what would have happened if certain events went just a little differently. 

But, things happened as they did (for a reason?), and I'm going to trust that everything will work out how it should.  Besides, I am perfectly aware that getting your Doctorate is by no means 'giving up'.  And as far as a performing-centric career goes, I really think I gave it my all for a good 10 years - all I have to do now is refrain from the trap of if/but-ing my life away and assure myself that wherever I am or am-not is not for a lack of trying.

Wild Horses

Today on the way back from rehearsal, I walked by a couple of horseback riding cops.  They ride around the agricultural campus fairly regularly, but for some reason I hadn't seen them yet this year.

When I saw them, I was instantly reminded of something that had almost disappeared into the recesses of my memory.  One day last summer, in the Middle of Nowhere, NM, I was riding with a small group of friends.  It was a particularly hot and difficult day... there were hills, we had woken up really early, and I was feeling sluggish.  

And so we're riding and I'm counting down the miles until our lunch break... and all of a sudden, out of nowhere, a bunch of wild horses appeared right next to us.  They galloped and we pedaled, mouths open and gaping, and for a brief instant, I was part of a herd of horses.

And then they turned in to the desert and we continued along the same road we had been riding on for hundreds of miles, but from then on, it all felt different.  I no longer felt the need to get to the end of the ride, and I instead smiled in contentment and complete wonder at the fact that I had just ridden my bike alongside animals that I had never before seen.

I'm definitely back in the land of normality here in New Brunswick, NJ.  Today I went running, practiced, played a wedding, had a dress rehearsal and a concert, and then went out for a drink with my friends... everything completely within the ordinary events of my life - a typical day, nothing to really stand out or remember.  

But even though that's the case, I'm not the same person I used to be... I'm obviously still myself, but I'll never again look at things the same way.  There will always be the occasional horse to remind me of a summer that was amazing beyond any kind of description... and so even these ordinary days will be tinted with color.

Too Much Staring at a Computer Screen Makes Me Nauseous

I'm working at a front desk to try to pick up some extra money (I may or may not have gotten my car booted earlier in the week and had to pay the City of New Brunswick $142), and I've been trying to get work done on the computer for the past 3 hours... but really that consisted of writing emails, fooling around with my resume (I'm applying for a job... like, a real one!), and repeatedly refreshing my Facebook page.

Regardless of what I was or was not accomplishing though, I have to say that I hate looking at a screen for so long. It makes me feel sick. Or maybe it doesn't, and I'm just following up my sinus infection with a stomach virus... because really, since when have I ever tired of doing nothing online??

'Palin Got Pounded' Cake

Can't wait for the debate.

Don't Vote.

I look like a frog.

I hate wearing glasses.  

But because I had snot oozing out of my eyes, the doctor (correctly, I'm sure) ordered me to lay off of the contacts for at least a week.

And so now my eyes are red, watery, and still occasionally puss filled. I look how I feel:  gross.

I know it doesn't matter; I don't need to impress anyone.  

But, I can't help but feel a little disconcerted when I look in the mirror and see this...