Moving Melancholy

There is no reason why this move should churn up emotions.

None.

I'm switching offices. We all are. It's an office switch-a-roo. I'm not saying goodbye to people.* I'm not  changing job descriptions.** I'm not even having to carry all my books myself.***

And yet, sitting beside my boxes, sorting through the papers I printed for classes, deciding what to keep and what can be recycled, there it is.

Part sadness. Part nostalgia. Part anxiety about the future and what comes next. The wondering of how things will work in the new place.

It's ridiculous. Especially when compared to other people who are actually MOVING. Friends who are moving across country for grad school. Colleagues who just bought a house. My sister texted me WHILE I WAS SITTING NEXT TO THESE BOXES saying that she'd just left the house where she's spent the past year. For the last time. My switch has NOTHING on them.

But sometimes you have to embrace the ridiculous to get past it. Acknowledge that this comes from years of past moves, stress about not getting as much done as I feel like I should, and the reminder that relationships are changing all the time.

So I'm heading home early today. Stopping by early tomorrow so I can get to my plants before the movers do. And counting on the excitement of unpacking to be as refreshing as the current mood is draining.







*At least not people who I couldn't stop by and say hello to on pretty much any workday.

** Well, not any more than if I'd been in the same office anyway. And really, I'm glad to be at the point where I'm done taking classes.

*** Since it's the Grand Switch-a-roo they're getting movers. I am spoiled I tell you. Spoiled.

Reflecting on address

I've finally gotten through the official paperwork transition to living in the city. After 10 months in my apartment, I switched driver's licenses today.

Registered to vote too.

And got the title of the car figured out. (I'd already changed the plates.)

---

My old place didn't have an address.

I looked at the map the UPS guy had in his truck. My trailer wasn't there. It's the same map the emergency services used, so I made up an address based on the neighbors'. Put it on the fridge in case we needed it.

Honestly, I don't even remember the street.

But driver's licenses require a street address. The PO box won't do. "Ummm....I live in teacher housing?" I offered when asked. So my official address for those years was Tchr Hsing.

---

Today I got asked if I wanted to include my apartment number on my new license.

I didn't. Figured it was safer not to. The lady checking me through agreed.

When I said I lived in teacher housing, it was with the confidence that people would be able to find me in town. Just find the school security guard. It's not that hard.

Even with the street address given, I still feel more hidden here.

Purging Thoughts Day 4

I last bought tennis shoes in 2004. No wonder it's getting time for a new pair.

My cat's cradle thread!

Tareka's e-mail address! Along with Courtney and Benard's. And none of them work. *sigh* I'm on at least my second e-mail since they were written down.

For the record, I do not need any more heart shaped jewelry boxes. Actually, I don't need any more jewelry boxes at all.

Purging Thoughts Day 3

"What do you want? What is your deepest desire in life? Deep down in the bosom (sp?) of your heart you have to want something. You learn about it in the most secret of your dreams. What is it? If you know what you want you can do anything, but if you don't know, well then you will never achieve anything worthwhile."

---

Confident little life-advice giver wasn't I? Geee.

Other findings:

Part of my collection of middle school notes! YAY! Not where I expected them.

My rejection (well, wait-listed) letter. Still breaks my heart reading it. But you know, sometimes it's healthy to remember that feeling, so it's being saved.




(Sorry for the reversed picture. I'm too lazy to flip it back, didn't realize until it was uploaded, and well, my bed's covered and it's 11:20 pm.)

A collection of 50th anniversary edition of the Saturday Review World. They remember 1924-1974 and make predictions for the year 2024. This close, I can't get rid of them. This busy, I can't read them now. Coming back to my apartment.

Signatures and address exchanges for, like, every camp I ever attended. Someday I will do an inventory of these. Post on Facebook or something. I'm as curious about them as I am anyone I might do reunions with.

Speaking of reunions, went to worship with a guy I hadn't seen in 7 years. We ate lunch together in high school. (My mom was quick to tell grandmother that there "wasn't anything romantic going on.") He's part of a community my mom works with. She remembered him and made the connection. Was cool. Strange. But cool.

And relating to graduations....


Almost saved this dress-up item. But after working on the rez, decided against it. (Actually was perhaps more in favor of it because I'd lived on the rez. Real reason to get rid was the staples holding it together poke my head, not a good sign for kid-friendly play.)

That's enough for tonight. I need to get my bed cleared and me into it.

Purging Thoughts Day 2

No, really, what's the point of trophies?

Trash!

Flipped through yearbooks. Figured out when I went to school with my friend's fiance. Still no memory of him. But he was in 6th grade when I was in 8th grade, so I don't feel bad about that.

Blurry camp polaroids.
Who are any of these people?

Trash!


And my barrette collection. On the hanging display!
See that one? Big poofy. Blue and white and purple and fake pearls and oh my gosh. It doesn't even hold up to it's own weight.

I don't remember if I ever wore it.

Pretty sure I wore the others those. Think the pink and yellow bow was a gift from Tareka Sartor. Or Frannie. Someone in elementary school.

(Betcha hadn't figured out that last part. Thought they were big girl fashions, didn't you? Those come next.)

Scrunchies! (They're on the rainstick that I made in 5th grade. Originally it was some doll, but eventually became my scrunchie tower.)
And a claw! And those plastic, spikey, stretchy headbands.

After a day of wearing these, I can attest that 90's hair fashion is more comfortable than I remembered.

Maybe not trash?

There have been a few "That's where that went" moments.

Found this necklace a few days too late.

And found this Psalm 23, Paraphrased (by Jacquie Clingan)

The Lord is my friend!
What more could I want?
He sits with me in the quiet times of my days.
He explores with me the meanings of life.
He calls me forth as a whole person.
Even though I walk along paths of pain, prejudice, hatred, depression,
My fears are quieted
Because He is with me.
His words and His thoughts,
They challenge me.
He causes me to be sensitive to the needs of others,
Then lifts up opportunities for serving.
His confidence stretches me.
Surely love shall be mine to share throughout my life,
And I shall be sustained by His concern forever.

T-? Counting down the hours until leaving

Okay. Kinda sorta packed. Still need to wash some dishes. Clean the bathroom. And accept the fact that my room will be a mess while I'm gone.

Made it through my end-of-year discussion with the organization that brought me here. (Notable that I was NEVER evaluated by my school.) Cleaned out the fridge and took food over to a friend who's staying the summer (and has a family to help eat). Straightened out books and papers in the living room/FEMA trailer lesson planning central. Poked around online for way more time than I should.....Ooops?

See many of you soon! *hugs* to the rest.

A comment I left on a friend's blog

She was talking about missing college but knowing that there's no way to go back.

Even if I moved back to the town and just hung around auditing classes all the time, so much of what made it wonderful is gone out into the world, dispersed. I am homesick and there is no home to go back to.

For my part, I don't even know what home I'm homesick for part of the time. Some of it is the friends who have left, but some of it is just the type of people who are at my college. And I think part of it is the actual place. Studying in the chapel, or certain spaces in the library, or wandering the trails around campus.

I was the same way with camp--which was my home pre-college--for a long time. Even after I stopped working there, I expected that I would need to visit annually for many years. But when I went back last summer I realized that, while camp will always be home, I don't need to visit anymore. I've moved on some (assisted in part by the changing nature of the place, but mostly the changing course of life). I half-hope that the adjustment away from college will be the same. That before too long I will go back and realize that I've moved on to another home.

Though I don't know where that home will be.

Home, sweet home

Oh FEMA, why must you poison your trailers? As far as trailers go, this one is pretty nice. Except for the frozen pipes and that the CDC says people in other, similar trailers should get out.

At least I don't have any symptoms. (Though I'm linking for my own reference when the weather gets warmer.)

Christmas time's a'coming and I know I'm going home

Opening with a sidebar: It's surprisingly difficult to find the lyrics to Raffi's Christmas album online. Especially given that I know the original LP has the lyrics on it.

A week from right now, I should be home. *Smiles* I tell my students that I have my home where I went to college and my home where my parents are (only, I just refer to them by the different states). I haven't been to the latter since moving out here in August. This is my first Advent away from family and I can tell I'm homesick. But one week. (4 days of school.) My cell phone's working again, so that should cut down on the bahness. I hope.

Since my last post, I've continued with the downs and ups. I really need to get better at separating myself from my job. I need to be able to cut down on my prep time so that I can maintain sanity. But it's hard when you don't have a good textbook. Or when you want worksheets to look right. And when I don't have pretty teacher handwriting. By next year this should be easier, right?

Sending my heart back to the mountains

“And when life is getting me down, as sometimes it will do,
My heart will come back to these mountains
and I'll remember you
I'll remember the love that we shared
and the ways that we grew”

I'm not sure where the quote came from. But I have it saved to a "sticky note" on my computer to remind me of camp. I don't usually use the stickies, but I did yesterday and smiled to remember camp.

I've been thinking about camp a surprising amount this weekend. It's interesting to observe. A few years ago, it was normal for me to somehow be reminded of camp several times a day. From the pictures on the walls to the music I listened to. From the books I read to the friends I talked to. Even if something wasn't directly related to camp, I could almost always connect it to something that reminded me of camp.

Most of the reminders are still present. Sure, I don't listen to the same music as much two summers out. No, I don't talk to people as regularly as I once did. Actually, I haven't really hung up any pictures in my bedroom here. But none of them are far out of reach.

And yet, I'm surprised that I've thought of camp a couple of times a day over this extended weekend. I didn't notice when it was not in the back of my mind at all times. Only now am I realizing that it's not.

Thinking about it, leaving college has almost been easier than leaving camp. It's still living in the back of my mind, the reminders through music, pictures, books, and friends are very much there. But at the same time, I don't feel as homesick for college-home. Not sure what it means. Maybe just that leaving a home of 4 years is easier than leaving one of 13 years.

trying to think of the good

First the bahness (sometimes just little things that I feel like I should take care of when I get the time):

• The dishes are piling up in the sink.
• My no-longer housemate's dad called two days ago. The battery on the phone was dead because she'd left it in her room. We listened as he left the message. The machine's still blinking. For some reason the number and the play button's blinks are out of synch.
• I should empty the trash from my room.
• At some point I need to get to the BIG town to recycle and have car insurance office see that I have a car.
• There are papers covering my desk at school in a variety of piles I don't want to think about.
• Good problems for worksheets are harder to come up with than you'd think.
• And worksheets are boring. Maybe I'll get it together enough to come up with some sort of game activity by Friday...of next week. Or next month.

Ah well.

Good things:

• The counselor/adviser who's class is on one side of me and office is on the other--she's there for hugs whenever I need them. And medicine. And prayers. And a listening ear.
• Seeing friends and actually getting to socialize at class.
• Borrowing books from other people (note again, not the library, it hasn't moved to the new school yet).
• Stress foods in the form of fruit. (Watching my grocery shopping spree last Saturday, when I was hungry and stressed, was amusing. 15 pounds of flour. I had to get three types.)
• Listening to NPR when I have an internet connection and Taize podcasts when I don't.

and then there were two....

I'm still here.

And really, things have been going okay so far. I mean, yeah, the school is a total organizational NIGHTMARE (someday it'd be really nice to have a roster of who is supposed to be in my class. And not have student's schedules changed over and over and over).
Yeah, I feel really bad for my second period class (first is prep) because I get so much better when I know what they didn't get.
Yeah, it's frustrating not having a sense of where students are or what I can do to reach them (and that applies to the physical, educational, emotional....)

But I can tell that I've already taught them stuff. (Or maybe just reminded them of what they knew. But I promise you, it'd been long forgotten.)
And I had a student tell me that I make him laugh. (I think it was a good thing).
And I haven't really had behavior problems. (Sure there's the ones who don't want to work. But we'll see how I can get through to them. Day by day. If they come. Or I find out who is supposed to be in my class.) The custodian told me that my room is always clean, but he does it anyway. I think this is a good sign.
And my kids are actually following the procedure to come in and get started on their math journals. Grumbling, but doing it. I feel like things are getting done.

All in all, I'm happier than I expected/feared. Feeling good at this point. Knowing more bad will come. But still confident that I can handle it.

But losing another housemate is hard. Apparently I'm not good at the tough love thing. Want too much to understand what's going on. Wanting to support decision to leave if that's what's necessary. Knowing that I can't be in someone else's head. Wishing things were different. Not sure how my support network will change.

hopefully tomorrow will be better

Officially figured out that the reason MY computer's not working right now is because the power cord died. I'm on a rigged up school computer for now. Hope I can get a good computer (either of my own or from the school) soon. But we'll see. Really want to wait until the new mac os comes out. Maybe I'll break down and buy a new computer cord.

Have realized, yet again, how much Firefox changed my internet habits. I know other browsers now have tabbed browsing, but the IE running on this machine didn't. I couldn't handle it. New windows are too space consuming. Tabs are just pretty.

Moving goes slowly. So much of it seems to be fend for yourself. On the other hand, it has provided a good way to get to know other people. Checking in on how everyone's room is going. How are you holding up? Doing all right? Do you need help getting that through the door? Carrying that? Balancing that on your head as you push the cart? And, after my years as a camp counselor, are you getting enough water? Don't get dehydrated! That's it, next water fountain we pass, you're drinking some more. (Yes, I actually said that. We both got water, too.)

In return, if getting offers for help is any sign of how I'm fitting in here, I feel pretty good. I keep being told of new places where to find more math stuff (not sure books is always appropriate; textbooks, workbooks, manipulatives, some brandnew, some older than I am, some both). People ask if I need a different cart. (I finally gave the one I'd claimed up after cleaning out a room and a modular. I'm not sure what else is left for me to uncover.) When I decided to lay claim to a couple of abandoned 3 ring binders, one teacher pointed me to a BUNCH of others (which becomes a whole other story), and a half-dozen people helped me empty them of old papers. (Which all went in the trash, breaking my recyclable heart, but, you do what you can.) So there's definitely some feeling of goodness in this. Hopefully I can keep seeing that.

more moving

We finally got to start taking stuff over to the new school on Friday. I had the pleasure of packing up things, carrying them over, and then trying to begin to unpack them. (The old math teacher hadn't packed up his stuff at the end of the year. Gee thanks.)

Meanwhile, the new books that the school's been talking about all summer (aka the past three weeks of inservice) aren't to be found. The school's curriculum coordinator was telling my department head that we needed to get our act together so we could order more books this week. Not that either of us have the time to reserach textbooks. Or the background to evaluate them (yet). Further, the old books don't look that bad. And I'm not sure we're going to be sending books home with students. So, does it matter if I teach out of ancient books? Or not ancient, but old because they've been abused books. Or new books. *shrug*

AND...not sure what's going to happen with the supplies I requested. Thankfully, we found some boxes that the old teacher had ordered with some of the things I need. Still, it'll be nice to see what there actually is.

But the reality that I'm going to be a teacher is kicking in. Again. And again.

i should buy this song

wake me when the sun is not a secret
and all of its reflections speak in color
collapse the letters, perhaps they're better unknown
convenience via industry is deceiving
we can travel so far in seconds, but we're covering cars' complexion
protecting our investments

the luxury of salary is rewarding
improving conditions, improving efficience
but all the corresponding course of reaction
and equal distraction is a burden
it's a burden

we are blessed, we are cursed in our abundance
we are pressed to have worth in terms of tangibility
we are blessed to be settled without worry
we are cursed to forget we are in need
we are blessed, we are blessed upon our knees
we are blessed, we are blessed upon our knees

the market will fluctuate with hopes to manipulate our need
the patterns of the sun remain concrete
beauty is simple but we, we find favor in a mess of synthetics
we are hungry
beauty is simple, but we, we find favor in a mess of synthetics
we are hungry
beauty is simple, but we, we find favor in a mess of synthetics
we are worried

i heard that the economy is receding
but the sun still warms my skin

~Joel P West, Settled Without Worry


It would figure that the song featured on NPR's Open Mic is my least favorite of his songs. I'm not convinced to buy the whole cd, his sound is too consistent. One song blends into another to the point that I almost don't realize that I've switched. They're pretty simple sounding, but I like the lyrics of this one and the other one I've quoted. They seem to fit my life right now in one way or another.

we all head west cause we were told the west had more daylight

It's crazy how late the sun sets here. But I'm fearing winter. It's going to rise so late. How will I get out of bed? Wake up to teach? And no, taking up coffee is not an option.

and not exactly an engagement ring

(I love lyrics from new to me songs.)

At the fair this weekend I finally found a new ring. I'd worn my ring from camp for about 7 years. Lost it last fall (VERY sad, but it's just a thing too). Luckily, I had an extra ring that I wore afterwards. Unluckily that ring broke during the middle of my senior thesis presentation.

So, new ring. Which is kinda cool. Because the old ring definitely represented a strong part of my past. Maybe this ring will be a symbol of my life here?

In any case, I have something to fiddle with. And I don't feel naked anymore. Strange how even after a few months without a ring I still missed the feeling of it on my finger.

Strange what you do miss. And when. And why.

wanting a clever boy

By the time I got back today from getting license and plates and all (drove well over an hour to get to the big town, in another county, population well less than 5,000), I was getting pretty tired. So I decided not to go to the fair today. Instead spent the night at home, procrastinating by listening to music.

I found this Swedish label that has a policy of having free downloads for title singles. (The "reason" I started browsing was because Pelle Carlberg was the featured Open Mic on NPR recently and I decided I needed to find more music.)

This was my alternative to doing work (that I'm supposed to do for workshop tomorrow). So bedtime and shower and maybe some work? meh

feeling lucky...and PSA

I rode with one housemate out to a birthday party in the big city (population sign says 780) tonight. Was planning on getting a ride home with the other housemate, but there was awkwardness (completely different situation), so she wasn't returning as early as planned. Anyway they both decided to spend the night at the party house, but let me drive one of their cars home.

It's dark and kinda rainy so I'm driving decently slow.I mean I get passed a couple of times and all.Come to the BIG fair that's going on starting tonight and through the weekend. Speed's dropped and I've slowed down more , but am getting distracted looking at what's going on at the fairgrounds. Next thing I know I'm pulled over for speeding. Oooops. Of course I can't figure out how to roll down the windows, but have license and housemate's old registration pulled and hand to the officer as soon as he finally gets to me. (While he goes back to check things out, I call my housemate's cell phone asking where her new registration is...She'd just gotten it this afternoon..)

Anyway, I think this is probably one time when having an out-of-state license worked in my favor. I got off with just the question "How well do you know the area?" "Um..I just moved here. I'm working to figure it out. " So for anyone who needs to know, the speed limit outside the fairgrounds is 25 MPH. And it is strictly enforced during the fair.

EDIT: Upon further reflection, I think that the 25 MPH speed limit is special for the fair (and higher during the rest of they year). So when you visit, you might not have to go that slow. Then again, you might.

someday i will look back and know what's going on

It's interesting how I can't really get a straight story here. There's so much politics. Naturally people outside of the school warn me to stay away from the politics, but I don't really think that's possible. I just wish I knew more of the backstory on different situations. If I ask enough different people, I can triangulate decently. But I still don't know why the administration warned new staff not to attend tonight's meeting. Or even what the deal is with who did (and more importantly who did not) have my position before me.