Blogging With My Students

I just asked my students to blog about their perceptions of college life so far, and I though it only fair that I join them. Of course, I will write about my perceptions of my school year up to this point because I have been in college for far too long to have any new perceptions about it.

I have to say that this year has gotten off to a rocky but beautiful start. My students at both schools are intelligent, participatory, and fun. Once again, I lucked out as far as my students go. I cannot say the same for some of my colleagues who have students they can already tell they won’t get along with. Maybe it’s just my magnetic personality. I have had a couple of tense moments with one of my high school students, but we’re moving towards common ground so things are looking up. I have to say that I am pleased with the way things are going.

I say it has been rocky, too, because it took about a week for me to adjust to working every day at the same time. It was a good and welcome change to have a set schedule, because I can now get up and walk the dogs, run, then go to Burris. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, I then go to BSU to teach my two classes there.  On Monday and Wednesday, I read and study. I am reserving my Fridays, with the exception of when I teach at Burris, to meet with friends, relax, and play disc golf. I think the year will be a good one.

It’s Been a Long Time…

…been a long time, been a long lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely time. Sure has. Nothing like a little led Zeppelin to get the day going. I am not sure I even really like Led Zeppelin, but I like this song even though I have never really understood what it was about. It’s amazing that I could listen to a song a million times, at every high school dance (the three I went to) and on the radio, and never really get the lyrics.

I suppose it hasn’t really been lonely, but it has been a long time since I have written anything. So much has happened since the last time I wrote, it seems like light years since I went to Michigan, since Merideth got engaged, since I took my comprehensive exams, since Jacob spent two weeks at our house and taught me to love disc golf, and since Dave, the little man who is fixing our house, started fixing our house.

Because so much has been going on, I feel a little life-vertigo, like no matter where I put my foot down, it will be the wrong location and everything might come toppling down. I am not saying this to sound dramatic, I just feel a bit disoriented. I don’t, however, feel stressed, though I must be because I woke up yesterday with this kink in a muscle in my back. Today it was worse. While we were walking the dogs this morning, Bec said that I have the most amazing ability to somatize my stress. I do. I would much rather have a sore muscle than to have some deadly illness like I had last winter.

I started running last winter with the intention of finishing the mini-marathon in Indy, but I got so sick I couldn’t keep running. My lungs were pissed and they were having no part of my exercising in the cold air. Well, I since have started running again, and I am up to running 4 miles at a 12-minute mile pace. I say that’s not too shabby for a fat kid. I was supposed to run this morning, but when I woke up at 5:30, it was dark outside so I slept until 6:30 and walked the dogs.

Since the last time I posted, I have taken a Nazarite Vow that will end when my dissertation is finished. I took it on my birthday, July 22, by shaving my head and spending the day relaxing and contemplating the parameters of the vow. I amended the original Jewish vow, so I am not only following it, but I also added some things of my own. For the next year and a half to two years, I am abstaining from anything containing grapes, wine, or raisins, all alcohol, cutting my hair, eating meat, caffeine, sugary foods. In the same time period, it is my goal to walk at least 5 miles each day, which can include the morning run.  I plan to start swimming three times a week next week, as well. It is also my goal to run a marathon before I turn 40. So far, I am doing pretty well with my goals, and I have been managing quite well abstaining. The side-perk is that I have lost 30-35 pounds.

I feel all rusty and weird writing. I am having a hard time being articulate and creative without feeling like I am forcing it. I guess this is why every writing book, every writer, says that writing should be something that we do every day. I suppose, too, I should actually write about the things I mentioned in the first paragraph, which is typically what one does when setting up a piece of writing. Introduction: body: conclusion.

I should start off by talking about my vacation with Merideth’s family. We stayed at Little Bear Lake Hideaway, and the lake was beautiful. I swam across it, kayaked around it, and ran or walked the road that circled it every day we were there. One day I even went around twice. Usually I was the first one up and out of the cabin, so I got to see the water all quiet and smooth before anyone else was awake to see it. The water was a clear green, and I could see my feet when I was standing up to my neck in the water. The water was also incredibly cold. Very cold. Numbingly cold.

The days went by quickly, too quickly. I could actually live up there on a lake if I could find a job that would sustain me. We went to Gaylord, the closest fairly large town, three times and ate lunch at three decent diners. We went to Lewiston and ate at Talley’s Bar, and Merideth and I went to a little bar by the Outpost for coffee while Josh got Merideth’s clothes ready to go to Mackinac Island.

On Wednesday, we went to the island, and all day Merideth kept talking about wishing she could stay at the Grand Hotel. Finally, when the kids got tired, we walked up to the hotel and pretended we were all going to look at the porch. Little did she know, but Merideth and Josh were staying at the hotel. And, she also didn’t know he was going to propose to her. He did, and she said yes. They are getting married next June 5, and I am performing their wedding on a beach in Florida.

When I got back from Michigan, Bec’s nephew, Jacob, came and stayed with us for two weeks. We painted the outside of the house, which still is not completed, and we pulled up the carpet in the downstairs. We had tons of good conversation, and Jacob cooked dinner for us a few times. The best part of his stay were his disc golf lessons.

Nearly every afternoon, Jacob and I walked down to McCullough Park and pitched some discs. For an hour and a half or so each day, we just chilled and threw discs … and occasionally went poo-diving. Poo-diving happens when someone throws a disc into the drainage channel that runs along the edge of the course. We call the channel, the poo channel, because it is one of the ones that may or may not contain sewage when the storm sewers overflow. I only had to go poo-diving once, but Jacob had to go several times. Yum.

Jacob and I removed the carpet from the downstairs while Dave, the little man that is fixing and rewiring our house, redid the ceiling in the living room. About two weeks ago, he told us that it would only take a couple more days to finish the work, but I think he bit off more than he thought he was biting off with our rewiring. It has been a huge project and most of it had to happen through the uninsulated attic, so for a few days he couldn’t do much because of the intense heat. I can tell you, though, that I am ready for it to be finished, so we can start putting our house back to normal. I want to bring my couch in from the porch.

I took my comps last week and will know by Labor Day whether or not I passed. I am not confident that I did. The hard part about thinking that I may have failed is that I also got a job teaching American Literature at Burris one period a day. If I don’t pass my comps, I don’t get to teach at Burris next semester. If I don’t get to teach there next semester, I lose my foot in the door. And, I want to teach middle school English there next year! I keep trying, in the spirit of my Nazarite vow, to let God be in control and to trust what [They] are doing, but that is so hard for me. It is hard for me to realize that I am not in control, that God is.

I suppose another major event in my life is that my pastor is leaving. Last Sunday was his last Sunday to speak. I was fine until at the end of his message he remarked that he had been at our church for five years, and that it had been a good five years. Then I cried. I cried pretty hard through the last worship set, and then again once it was over. Of course, he came over and harassed me, when I was reading my book to stop myself from crying more, by singing, “I have my books and my poetry to protect me; I am shielded in my armor, hiding in my room, safe within my womb. I touch no one and no one touches me. I am a rock, I am an island.” It’s true, but I am trying to become less of a rock, less of an island. I am trying hard to let people in. I suppose that is why my back has a huge knot in it.

A Vacation in Michigan

This next week I am going to be in Michigan with my best friend’s family. Merideth and I are more like sisters than we are friends, so I am sure we will get into at least one fight. With that aside, I am excited because we get to go to Mackinac Island and I have never been there before, so this will be a whole new experience, and I am interested to see how things work without cars. I have heard stories, but I finally get to see it with my own eyes. I will get to run around the lake, so that should be fun, too. I mean, not to mention the swimming, softball, trivial pursuit, cards, and s’mores! Whoo-hoo!

I am supposed to be packing right now, but I think I am going to write here, then couch surf for a minute, then run. I also have to sew some things today. I don’t like packing because it means I have to go away, but it has to be done. Eight days is a long time to be gone. I have never been gone for more than six or (rarely) seven days at stretch, which is enough time to leave Bec struggling with all the pets by herself. I think she likes her alone-time, though, so it is a good trade-off. Pets and alone-time. I suppose when I get back she will have done some home improvement like she usually does.

A Great Weekend. And a Self-Discovery.

This past weekend was one of the best I have had in a long time. On Saturday, Bec and I drove to Cincinnati to have lunch with Tim, who was in town because Whitney was in a wedding in Oxford, OH. We went to B-Dubs and Tim and I each had mango-habanero and Caribbean jerk wings. They have boosted to spiciness of their sauce since the last time I was there, and my nose ran constantly as I smiled my way through all six, very hot mango-habanero boneless wings. It was a good last meat hurrah before I stop eating meat again tomorrow. I am still going to eat milk, but meat and eggs are history until I finish my dissertation. The challenge will be getting enough protein to keep running and to start swimming. I think I can do it if tofu is involved and if I use Will’s homemade seitan recipe.

On Saturday night, we went to Sarah and Daniel’s going away party. Andrea was unsure of herself as a hostess, but everything was fabulous, including the delicious Jimmy John’s subs and the cake. I had fun, reminisced about the past few years, and ate way too much…

which was okay because on Sunday, Bec and I started the day by walking the dogs, as we always do. Then we went on a 30-mile bike ride, which was more like 28 miles, but who is counting anyway. We rode from our house down the Cardinal Greenway to Blountsville. It took us about two and a half hours, but we did it and had a blast! We had great conversation and remembered how beautiful the trail is out in the country, winding through trees and past farms.We decided that before the summer is over, we are going to ride our bikes to Losantville to have pizza at the Pizza Shack. Riding back with full bellies will be the challenge!

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Yesterday, I realized how non-compassionate I can be. So much so that I don’t really listen to the people around me. I hear them, but I don’t really hear them. I don’t take the time to listen to their pain. I have become so wrapped up in my own things this summer—comps, home improvements, my assistantship, etc.—I am not listening to people like I want—or need—to listen to them. I talk and write so much about being compassionate and being a listener that I don’t give myself the space to actually do it. I know this didn’t just start this summer, but it has taken this summer to help me recognize that I talk far more than I listen, and most of what I say is not part of any productive good. I find myself talking to hear myself talk, or to have the best story, or prove I am right, or to make people like me, or to spread things that I only hear half-way, or to complain about things that are out of my control. I really want to change this about myself, but it is so difficult.

Why do I do this? Good question. I am listening if you have any answers or any suggestions about how to tame the tongue.

Left-Over Vegetable and Bean Stew

Today has been a good day so far. I woke up and walked the dogs a mile and a half with Bec, then I jogged the same mile and a half and only had to stop to walk for about a block! We rode our bikes to church and back, and now I am making bean and vegetable stew out of all the half-bags of beans and the too-old-to-eat-fresh-but-not-old-enough-to-throw-away vegetables.

I like the way my life is changing. I feel healthier, more connected, and grounded. I was talking with a friend, a doctor, who told me that our bodies go through major systemic changes every three years or so. He said that we should pay attention to those changes and follow them. I felt like jogging this morning, so I jogged with my iPod and without my watch telling me to stop and walk or to speed up and run; it felt FABULOUS! I think this may be my body appreciating my willingness to follow its change. Now if I can just get back into the pool…