Spring Break 2007 kicked off with an abnormal amount of basketball viewing. I thoroughly enjoyed watching 2 of my former first graders hoist up the trophy and celebrate their win at the High School Boys Basketball State Championship. I'm sure if I would have caught the unedited TV news interviews, I would have heard them thanking their first grade teacher for shooting hoops with them during recess 9 years ago. Instead, I settled for memories of days when they were much smaller than I, sitting in our miniscule, orange chairs around the reading table.
Next, I enjoyed a few days of much needed walks and lunches, catching up with friends. Mid-week, Gina, Tate & I set off on a 72 hour adventure to The Windy City. Having them along certainly livened up the drive, then we went our separate ways once we hit Naperville--she, to her sister's, and me, a visit with friends. It was a whirlwind of dining and shopping, so fun was certainly had by my ATM card. If I had to pick, the evening out with 2 of my college roommates was the city's highlight.
Chicago was great, but tonight, I must also sing the praises of my fine city because I just had one of the most perfect days.
While the grass often looks greener in someone else's state, tonight I am thankful to have mine. I love having so many genuine, intelligent and hilarious friends with whom to journey. While we may not be widely known as a community that oozes cultural opportunities, tonight was one of definite fun, with, at least, the hint of them. We thoroughly enjoyed dinner at Biaggi's, then were off to the Theatre to hear the Symphony and Concert Chorale and cheer on Danette.
This evening's highlights:
the first taste of a bottle of Malbec, and the glasses that followed
the ambiance at Biaggi's (my favorite Italian restaurant)
my friends: Adele, Danette and Nan
our knowledgeable (and ruggedly handsome) waiter, Adam
my meal: Lobster and Shrimp Stuffed Trigger Fish with Steamed Vegetables
the laughter
the dessert
the real cappuccino
the season-ticket-holding woman next to me, nodding off and almost snoring during the Symphony
the fact that I did not break out into an uncontrollable giggling fit...this time (different story)
So, here's the cultural run-down:
wine- can't remember where it was made, but I'm pretty sure that it counts as culture #1
Biaggi's Italian (#2) Restaurant
Adele-from South Africa #3, returning to Kenya in a few weeks #4
the few words we exchanged in Swahili #5
Nan-is part Swedish, too #I'm kidding
Cantique de Jean Racine, Op.. 11, the second song, sung in French #6
Adam-#again, kidding...I just thought he was worth mentioning again.
...sung in Latin #7
...sung in another language #8
You get the idea.
I am so blessed to have friends that make every day events and special occasions equally adventurous. And often times, hilarious.
Sunday, March 25, 2007
Wednesday, March 7, 2007
What? Too early to drink?
It had been a loooong day with the kids at school. We had hit indoor recess #30, due to weeks of windchills too far below zero.
Literally, that's thirty consecutive times we had hopefully checked the
weather website, seeking some miraculous shift so we could play in
that field of pristine snow outside our classroom windows. No luck. I'll
spare you all of the details of recent weeks, but suffice it to say
that kids puke, sneeze measurable lengths of snot, and pick noses much too frequently.
By 4p.m., I was cranky. Just wanting to be home. When one of
Our City's Finest pulled me over for an expired license
plate/tag/sticker. Come on. I mean, come ON. I put a smile on and
tried to be kind, apologetic, everything I thought he wanted.
THEN, he started asking me exactly where I was coming from...Had I
made any stops after school?
"Yes, the grocery store."
Had I purchased then drank any alcohol? Have I stopped for a drink?
I'm thinking, buddy, I was driving amazingly well, I've only lost my
mind a bit lately and forgotten to renew the stinking plates! It came
out more like,
"Oh my goodness, I am so sorry I was forgetful. Now I know my
immediate plans will be to go downtown and take care of this."
insert apologetic smile
"Okay, okay, but you smell like you've been drinking."
Honestly, there's nothing in the car, I did not purchase anything, (or
drink from a flask behind my desk?).
He's STILL questioning me, thinking of asking me out of the car, when
alas, he spots the Purel on the passenger seat. "Oh, have you used that lately?"
"Oh, yeah. Puking, snot-filled first graders have fueled an obsession
with it." Forming young minds here, educating the future of our
country, dodging puke, while you're pulling over hard-working,
completely frazzled TEACHERS that could use a BREAK!!
He takes my info back to his car, then returns with a ticket. A
stinking ninety dollar ticket! The kid looked like he had just
graduated from the academy and he's actually grinning as he hands me
the ticket, blah, blah, blah and continues with the chit chat! What?
You still want to chat?!!
Fuming. I am fa-uming.
So, two and a half hours later and I'm desperately trying to calm
myself and rip the tape out of my head that keeps replaying what I
should have said to him, how I shouldn't have forgotten, so I could
have avoided the whole ordeal...but I have the money to pay it so it's
not a big deal...but it's such a waste of $90. I was going crazy.
What was the one thing that calmed me? The thing that stirred
my heart to all things silver-lined and warm-fuzzy?
The Flickr window on my favorite blog.
Could my niece & nephews be any more adorable? These are thoughts & pictures worth dwelling on, lingering over, cooing at and getting all sniffly and misty-eyed.
Now, please pass the Purel.
Literally, that's thirty consecutive times we had hopefully checked the
weather website, seeking some miraculous shift so we could play in
that field of pristine snow outside our classroom windows. No luck. I'll
spare you all of the details of recent weeks, but suffice it to say
that kids puke, sneeze measurable lengths of snot, and pick noses much too frequently.
By 4p.m., I was cranky. Just wanting to be home. When one of
Our City's Finest pulled me over for an expired license
plate/tag/sticker. Come on. I mean, come ON. I put a smile on and
tried to be kind, apologetic, everything I thought he wanted.
THEN, he started asking me exactly where I was coming from...Had I
made any stops after school?
"Yes, the grocery store."
Had I purchased then drank any alcohol? Have I stopped for a drink?
I'm thinking, buddy, I was driving amazingly well, I've only lost my
mind a bit lately and forgotten to renew the stinking plates! It came
out more like,
"Oh my goodness, I am so sorry I was forgetful. Now I know my
immediate plans will be to go downtown and take care of this."
insert apologetic smile
"Okay, okay, but you smell like you've been drinking."
Honestly, there's nothing in the car, I did not purchase anything, (or
drink from a flask behind my desk?).
He's STILL questioning me, thinking of asking me out of the car, when
alas, he spots the Purel on the passenger seat. "Oh, have you used that lately?"
"Oh, yeah. Puking, snot-filled first graders have fueled an obsession
with it." Forming young minds here, educating the future of our
country, dodging puke, while you're pulling over hard-working,
completely frazzled TEACHERS that could use a BREAK!!
He takes my info back to his car, then returns with a ticket. A
stinking ninety dollar ticket! The kid looked like he had just
graduated from the academy and he's actually grinning as he hands me
the ticket, blah, blah, blah and continues with the chit chat! What?
You still want to chat?!!
Fuming. I am fa-uming.
So, two and a half hours later and I'm desperately trying to calm
myself and rip the tape out of my head that keeps replaying what I
should have said to him, how I shouldn't have forgotten, so I could
have avoided the whole ordeal...but I have the money to pay it so it's
not a big deal...but it's such a waste of $90. I was going crazy.
What was the one thing that calmed me? The thing that stirred
my heart to all things silver-lined and warm-fuzzy?
The Flickr window on my favorite blog.
Could my niece & nephews be any more adorable? These are thoughts & pictures worth dwelling on, lingering over, cooing at and getting all sniffly and misty-eyed.
Now, please pass the Purel.
Sunday, March 4, 2007
The Journey I've Been Given
“I decided to stop focusing on what was taken away, and contemplate what I’ve been given.”
Okay, maybe not a direct quote, but that’s the way I heard it. Being grateful isn’t exactly a new thought, so why, on this day, did it grip me so hard?
I’ve dwelled in this depth of sadness for so long that I’ve almost made a home here. I’ve logged hours on this couch. Lying in bed, unable to sleep. Listening to music, but for months, unable to sing. Is it time to move out, or do I really want to stay here, listening to my same sad thoughts? But “focus on what you’ve been given” sounds so ‘self-help’ tonight, and yet that quote continues to roll around in my head. Really...will acknowledging all that I’ve been given take away the hurt? If I focus on the experiences, moments with loved ones, circumstances I’ve been given, am I just avoiding the ache, only to have it well up in me again? Or. Will it teach me? Will it mold my thoughts? Can simply acknowledging these events help? Or will voicing my gratitude change the tape in my head?
I’ve had a life filled with hilarious and embarrassing moments, not previously recorded...this would be a perfect outlet for those unexpected and often unbelievable life experiences. I could be so light and breezy with my writing if I left out the last year or so. But that would only be part of my journey. That would be leaving out my highest high and lowest low. Maybe in time, it will be easier to share that, too.
For now, I think I’ll just start writing and stop thinking so much. Maybe if I just start recording my journey, I’ll connect the random thoughts in my brain to learn the lessons and see the blessings a little sooner. A grown-up’s dot-to-dot, created just for me. I could use a little direction.
I guess, ideally, this safari (Swahili for journey) might not be so random, but the name myeasycomfortableandcompletelyfiguredoutjourney.blogspot.com was already taken.
Okay, maybe not a direct quote, but that’s the way I heard it. Being grateful isn’t exactly a new thought, so why, on this day, did it grip me so hard?
I’ve dwelled in this depth of sadness for so long that I’ve almost made a home here. I’ve logged hours on this couch. Lying in bed, unable to sleep. Listening to music, but for months, unable to sing. Is it time to move out, or do I really want to stay here, listening to my same sad thoughts? But “focus on what you’ve been given” sounds so ‘self-help’ tonight, and yet that quote continues to roll around in my head. Really...will acknowledging all that I’ve been given take away the hurt? If I focus on the experiences, moments with loved ones, circumstances I’ve been given, am I just avoiding the ache, only to have it well up in me again? Or. Will it teach me? Will it mold my thoughts? Can simply acknowledging these events help? Or will voicing my gratitude change the tape in my head?
I’ve had a life filled with hilarious and embarrassing moments, not previously recorded...this would be a perfect outlet for those unexpected and often unbelievable life experiences. I could be so light and breezy with my writing if I left out the last year or so. But that would only be part of my journey. That would be leaving out my highest high and lowest low. Maybe in time, it will be easier to share that, too.
For now, I think I’ll just start writing and stop thinking so much. Maybe if I just start recording my journey, I’ll connect the random thoughts in my brain to learn the lessons and see the blessings a little sooner. A grown-up’s dot-to-dot, created just for me. I could use a little direction.
I guess, ideally, this safari (Swahili for journey) might not be so random, but the name myeasycomfortableandcompletelyfiguredoutjourney.blogspot.com was already taken.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)