My Tent on The Beach

I woke up this morning with one purpose and one purpose only: to deal with the egregious speeding ticket I got last Monday.  The icing on the cake that was the total ruination of that day was that, for the first time ever, I got a speeding ticket on the effing Ohio Turnpike.  That’s right.  Apparently, I was doing 82 in a 65. (I do have to say…I drive a Kia Rio5 which I love but I would have a hard time believing I could actually coax it up to 82 without it internally combusting…thank you Sir). Alas, I digress…I had to get a money order to pay the ticket.  So I went to the bank (a long lead in…I see that now).

Thus, I was perfectly positioned for what will surely be the best part of this Monday.  As I returned to school, grabbed up my Morning Coffee (capitalized to show it due reverence) at Metropolis, and walked to school in my fantastically cloppy-but-manageable modestly high-heeled shoes (ala Jen Leonard), I saw the greatest thing perhaps ever seen on Kenmore Avenue.

Driving up the street was a golf cart, controlled by two burly men, their appearance enhanced by the overly puffy winter-wear they happened to be sporting.  This in itself was kind of funny.  But wait, there’s more.  Hitched to the back of the golf cart was a cart with one of the Magi, riding a camel, facing backwards. (Loyola happens to own and proudly display yearly one of the ugliest, tackiest manger scenes I’ve ever laid eyes on.  If I can get a picture, you can bet I’ll share it.) Ironically, the golf cart was traveling north (probably following the Star) but the Wise Man (I think it was Balthazar), now reduced to being toted around by a golf cart, was facing south.  The  bewilderment and consternation painted onto that figure was especially poignant for the context.

It was so stunningly unexpected, out of context, and just sad, sad, sad that I started laughing out loud and actually had to stop and compose myself. It was bizarre.  And probably the greatest gift I never could have imagined I wanted.

Thank you Balthazar.  And good luck to ya.

Confession: I went to church twice today.

I know.  It might be getting out of hand.  But here’s the thing.  I went this morning for choir and that is a wonderful, fantastic thing…but it’s also become a little job-like.  I love jobs, don’t get me wrong.  But I sometimes find it hard to seek out my spiritual center when I’m trying to remember if we’re breathing on the 8th or the quarter, if ya know what I mean.

So this evening, I went to Loyola to just be there.  Not sing in the choir. Not be in charge of anything.  Just go and listen and think about this past week that was horrendous but very valuable in terms of lessons learned.  In some ways I needed to give a little thanks…that things had moved in the directions in which they were intended.  In others, I needed some guidance.  I always need guidance.  And here’s what I heard: “Wait. It’s Not Your Turn.”

It shocked me how much I’ve lost touch with the idea that 1) I don’t always get what I want right now and 2) that other people, rightfully, might get there first and that’s okay.  They’ve earned it.  There’s a funny reality about the confluence of doing graduate work and living alone.  It can be a black hole of humanity.  That sounds very melodramatic but I’m serious; I can go for literally weeks and not see more than a handful of people if I don’t work at it.  What this means is lots of time focused on me in my own little world.

In some ways, I’ve never been more relieved to hear it’s not my turn…mostly because it implies there are others around me…that I’m part of a bigger picture because, honestly, that truth can really get lost in this type of life.  Writing, thinking, writing, not eating, thinking, writing.  I haven’t even been watching tv…

Thank God it’s not my turn. I forget, in the midst of everything else, that I don’t always have to fight for my turn, hold my place in line, argue for my point of view.  I can let those things go every now and then and know that it’s not my turn and that things have to transpire before it will be my turn.  This is the craziest sigh of relief I’ve ever taken.

It’s not my turn.  It’s not my time. For some things.  If I need to wait, I can let them go and just hope that I don’t lose that little paper number when it comes time that it’s called.  Everything in it’s time.  Everything.

…and it was funny (if I might say so myself) and, lest I be a little immodest, it might have been occasionally insightful.  Sometimes it would get a little Zen-ny and then it would flow more like “People” magazine for awhile.  Sometimes there would be pictures.  I was good at lists.  And then, somewhere in the ether, my blog evaporated.  Probably with the endless months of intense (and I’m gonna go ahead and say intense) paper-writing, sitting at my computer for hours at a time, my hip flexors contracting to nothingness.  Sadly, I began to look a little like Montgomery Burns…all jaudiced and hunched over and with little warty things on my face (not really, but redness yes).  Oh, I was a sad sack.  Am a sad sack.  But trying to be a recovering one.

As I was driving home to the Cleve on Monday, I realized that I have been miserable as long as I can remember, almost to the point that I can’t remember what it feels like to be happy.  But my reasonable, logic-driven head remembers that certain things do make me happy…at least for awhile.  And funny thing…writing on this tiny little postage-stamp of the Interwebs is one of ‘em.  I’m not sure how to recapture the voice I had when I started this thing…a lot has changed…and actually, sometimes I long for the stupid Vox blog on which it all started (technically it’s still there but I hate Vox and this thing is paid for for up to three years).  So, I’m just gonna re-start and see what happens.  I refuse to let Facebook train me to speak to “my public” (all two of them and dwindling) in 140 characters.  I’m going to have a say and it might be a long(er) one.  Yeah.  But, so as not to fall into a crevasse of negativity, here’s a list of things I promise (myself) not to do:

1. No whining or complaining unless I think it’s actually funny and/or wittily biting sarcasm.

2. No blowing sunshine up anyone’s nose.  This post inevitably comes after a particularly whiny, wheezy one (See #1).

3. No “deep insights into the world” unless I provide the context and do not preach.  I hate preachy blogs.

4. No over-sentimentalism or over personal-reflection.  Can you believe I write a journal too?  That’s where that stuff goes.

5.  No changing names to protect the innocent.  I have real friends and now their friendship with me is contingent on being mentioned by their real first names (no last names…seriously, that’s just not right) for their greatnesses.  I will only celebrate friend greatness.  If you piss me off, I’ll wait to we work it out and then talk about it vaguely and in the past tense.

6. No overly dedicated school talk.  School does nothing but make me whiny, wheezy, and agitated.  (See #1 again).

I think that’s a good start.  And yes, I’m going to be that person that posts the updates on Facebook because…no one checks this thing regularly.  So deal.  Those updates just let you know there’s something new in the pot…it doesn’t mean you have to eat it.

Let the blogging begin.  Again. For the first time. For the last time.

It’s been a long time since the last post.  I know that because I said the exact same thing on the last one.  Ironically, I say that not much has changed but, you know, actually it has.  It’s been a weird couple months.  Let me break it down for ya:

1. I wrote the last blog as Andras was leaving Chicago.  He’s back.  And, actually, he’s been staying with me for the past couple weeks.  It’s interesting. It’s been a long time since I’ve woken up and the garbage has been taken care of or the dishes done.  Frankly, I like it.  However, he took up the harmonica since he’s been here, so it could be a long week.  On the other hand, I’ve come to appreciate “O Susanna” in a whole new way.  He’ll only be here for a little longer, so I’m trying to get the most out of it while I can.

2. School work.  Ah, sweet school work.  It’s still here.  BUT drafts have been done.  I’ve got another draft to go but I’ve managed to stay somewhat on the schedule I made in August which, at the time, seemed nearly impossible.  I’m not sure 1) what I’ve learned or 2) how it got done but it did.

3. My laptop computer crapped out; that was pretty exciting.  Not only can I not get the hard drive out of the thing (so anything on there is hostage until such a time that I can locate a sledgehammer) but I had to spring for a new one.  The new little baby is very cool.  It’s 1) new 2) blue and 3) teeny in the best way.  LOVE. IT.

4. Because of said laptop, I’m running low on cash.  Also very exciting. I’m thinking, the flip side of the problem is that it’ll probably be an effective diet program.  Yes folks…this is what an unemployed 33 year old looks like.  Life is good.

While all of these things are fairly mundane, the good news is that nothing is traumatically bad which, several months ago, it definitely felt like.  For once, nuthin’ new doesn’t seem bad…not bad at all.