Short Shorts From the last week

These were both written in five minutes with a 150 word count limit

1.

I always forget. Sometimes, like today, it's the snorkel. Other times, I forget to bring a bottle of wine because I've brought so many bottles to so many other parties. There was one time where I forgot to bring my partner to a wedding where we both had already RSVP'd. He was in the process of leaving me and I was too busy mourning the end of something not so great. Another time I forgot my bathing suit, but that was because I gained 10 pounds and hated the way the sides of body spilled over the edges of my bikini. This, not coincidentally, is also the same time I forgot to bring my own snorkel. I'm not sorry. It was on purpose. (123)

 

2.

There are things she knows for sure. She knows that her mother will wake her in the morning by sitting down on the edge of her bed. That she will whisper in her ear, it's time to get up. She knows that the sound of her mother's voice will make her smile in her sleep. Her mother will smell like coffee and that first morning cigarette. She knows that after she's dressed, had breakfast and put her backpack on she will ask her mother about that cigarette and her mother will say, I quit, remember? She knows her mother will run the shower water so the temperature is just right, and she'll cook the eggs perfectly, not too runny and with a thin layer of American cheese melted on top. But what she doesn't know is how the first day of school will treat her. Will there be pop quizzes and mean girls and gross school lunches? She doesn't know these things so when her mother sits on the edge of the bed and whispers into her ear, she takes a deep breath and inhales all the things she knows. (190--whoops...)

Baltimore

I am officially living in Baltimore City. Well...I'm living in my friend's spare room until the 1st of September when I move into my kick ass house in Hampden. I can't believe I'm saying this, but the rent (split between three) is cheaper than my rent Iowa City, the house is 50x nicer, and I have a private deck. The roommates seem awesome and it's close to school. Real Estate perfection!

On the job front, I had my first interactions with the class of 2011. Wow. It's going to be a very interesting year to say the least. Also people, I'm a homeroom teacher. This seems so wrong on so many levels given my lifestyle up until now. The two are separate right?

Teaching Panic

What me panic? This is not surprising, although I haven't really leave things to the last minute, I still have about 3 weeks to go before I have to step foot in a classroom full of 9th graders. Still, I worried when I got an email from the woman who  (I think) will be my teaching mentor, letting me know that she's available for questions. Right after that email came, I had a million and one questions! All of them I have certainly asked before, but for some reason the answers left me. Instead of just listing these questions one by one, I started to panic. Were they serious? Was I really in charge of teaching 20-30 students English? How does one teach English? Isn't this something we just magically knew and went to college all prepared? Did I even take an English class in the 9th grade? I mean, I vaguely remember a teacher, bottle blond, 50ish, Northeast Philly accent, last name Green. Yes! I remember her, and her voice but did she actually teach me anything? I also vaguely remember 10th grade English, where most of the time I decided the assignments were "dumb" (because honestly, they were unless someone can tell me the value of a Macbeth Quilt made of construction paper pictures of scenes from the plan) so I didn't do half of them and still managed to be the only 10th grader in an 11th grade English class and have the highest average.  What did I learn in high school English?

These are the books I remember:

Romeo and Juliet
Hamlet
A Tree Grows in Brooklyn (not H.S. material at all!)
Pride and Prejudice
Much Ado About Nothing*
Emily Dickinson
The Stranger
A Brave New World
Macbeth
Beloved*

This is all I remember about high school English. I remember my teachers, the other students, and so little of the curriculum it's no wonder college scared the shit out of me.

I don't want my students to have that experience. I don't want them to walk away thinking, "What was that bullshit?" Or worse "I hate reading."  On top of all this stress, I have been told over and over again that this year is going to be hell. That the parents will complain no matter what I do, that the students will complain no matter what I do, that this year is going to be the most stressful of my teaching career.  I'm beginning to believe them and to be honest, I'm a little frightened.

Here are the books I'm teaching:

Persepolis I and II
Oedipus
Macbeth (There will be no quilt making in this class)
A Raisin in the Sun
Short Story Section
Silas Marner
Shipwrecks
The Bible As/In Literature

I think a large part of my approach will be to pair these things up. So though the beginning focus is on drama I'll throw in a short story that illustrates some of the other literary device. And music, I like to use a lot of music in my lessons, it makes the text more exciting and keeps them focused.

The panic is dissipating. Now all I need is my copy of Persepolis II...packed somewhere in a box....I hope.

The 15 Most Overrated Writers

Ugh. I wanted to write a response to this list that was eloquent, but after ranting to my aunt about it from Philadelphia to Delaware Saturday night (and I assure you she didn't care one bit but was quite amused by my anger). But Mayumi already did it, and did it quite well. Anna over at Jezebel had a nice send up too, I checked over at the Huff Post and they have a poll going on about who's right. Jezebel (aka "Girls") or Shavani. The Girls are winning.

Seriously, it doesn't take much...

to cheer me up. On my way back east, I stopped to visit my friends Jen and Patrick in Ann Arbor, MI. I love this town for many reasons, but they are the top two!

To help me cope with leaving Iowa (Weird right? I mean I seriously had a hard time leaving Iowa for the east coast. Who knew that would happen?)  They greeted me with this dinner:

Baked salmon with veggies in some yummy anchovy sauce. The beverage of choice? Pink Champagne. 

This meal was love. I arrived in Ann Arbor, tired, emotional and in a wrinkled party dress after having driven for 8 hours.  I also ate anchovies for the first time. Yummy.

The following night we had this deliciousness. From the cookbook Modern Moroccan. Once I start making money, and have a kitchen, I'm buying this book.

Roasted chicken with a saffron, apricot, and poppyseed sauce accompanied by a saffron rosewater risotto.

  

Then it was my turn. I kept it simple with a recipe I really like that combines my love of all things Italian with pork and sage.

Pork and beef sage (plus some other yumminess inside)meatballs over rigatoni.

Then there is a restaurant in Ann Arbor that I love called the Jolly Pumpkin which offers these yummy selections:

Truffle salted french fries.

Strawberry Balsamic Martinis
 

 I will learn to make these (the martini). Mayumi over at May in the Bay is all about making the perfect gin martini. This is one of my goals. After becoming an awesome teacher, guidance counselor, novelist, etc.

Oh yeah, and this was the very delicious Manhattan Patrick made for me during Mad Men.

Mad Manhattan

 Jen said, "What should we do with this fresh melon?" and I said. "Make margaritas?" Patrick got to work.

Fresh melon margarita

Last one, I swear. Somewhere in all this for lunch we had a simple Italian meal, on of my favorites in fact. Perfect summer food. Also another good use of melon.

Proscuitto e melone

That's it. There are no pictures of the Zingerman's sandwiches but rest assured they looked as good as they tasted.
  

This is about Writing

My first story has been accepted for publication (more details when I get them). Needless to say I am overjoyed. A week after this good news fell into my lap, an agent with whom I'd been sharing some emails and eventually, the same story, contacted me to tell me she enjoyed the read. Always nice for a writer to hear. She asked for a synopsis of the novel in stories in progress and I mailed that off with promises of a few sample stories/chapters.

My novel is in a weird place these days. All my writing feels as if it's in a weird place. My novel in particular is in desperate need of editing. I know that if I just sat down with it for two days and did nothing else, I could probably figure things out, which would allow me to continue with the narrative. I want a draft by December dammit! A complete (if largely unedited) draft!

On top of it all, I'm kind of in between homes, about to start a new job and all my papers are buried underneath boxes of clothing a books in my car. AND I'm all tied up in writing my Iowa story about New Yorkers who move to Coralville from New York City in search of a better life only to get there just as the river was rising in June 2008. Whoops....(FYI: Coralville, the little town next to my first apartment in Iowa City was flooded, destroying the strip. It was so close and so flooded that when I saw pictures of it on CNN, I was sure they were talking about some other Iowa place and not half a mile from my house).

Traveling Woman II: The Stats

Miles Traveled: 1,031

Hours Spent in the car:  19 (over two days)

# of stops made along the way: 9 (4 to Michigan, 5 to Pennsylvania)

Party Dresses Worn While Driving: 2

Color of Sunglasses: Neon Green

Cups of Coffee: 6 (this seems absurdly low)

States Driven Through: 6--Iowa, Illinois, Indiana, Michigan, Ohio, Pennsylvania


# of Fast food stops: mercifully only 2

 # Times I broke down in Tears while Driving: 2 1/2 (Why is "The Way We Were" on a mix in my car?")

Knitting projects completed: 1 (Yay Traveling Woman Scarf!)

Zingerman's sandwiches: 2 delicious #44's in two days. That's $30 worth of sandwiches. Best $30 I spent!

#of Pages Written: 2 before I realized I am not in the state of mind to work on my Iowa story

# of Hearts broken along the way: 1, mine. I miss you Iowa. 

This is not about Writing, Reading, or Knitting.

If I were to say that on Saturday I didn't shed a single tear as I left Iowa City, I'd be lying. I woke up crying, feeling frantic and downright uncertain that I could make the move. I'm getting ahead of myself.

Last week was one of the more interesting weeks I've ever had in Iowa City. I somehow found myself partnered up with someone. Like together nearly 24 hours a day partnered up. It is and it isn't what you think. But there was a level of intimacy there that I don't believe I've ever experienced. I'm not very good at relationships. I usually want too much from the other person, or I don't want anything and it frustrates my partner. This time, I didn't put any thought into, just dove right in. What are we having for brunch? Will you pick up a ginger ale? Can you move over? Where are my sunglasses? What time should I pick you up from work? What should we watch? I'm too tired. I'm stressed out. What are we doing tonight? Who was on the phone? Why didn't you call me back? Thank you. No thank you. Ours, not mine, not yours, ours. This was my week. And the intensity of a week like this escaped me until I woke up alone on my last morning in Iowa.

I'm not saying that I fell in love as I was leaving town, that's far from what happened, but I did realize how much in love I was with my life in that town and with the people who were part of that life. I don't remember feeling this way when I left New York for Iowa--perhaps because I had a strong idea of what I as in for. I was going to train to be a writer. To become someone who made literature. Yes, it was a daunting task, but it was one that made sense, and I had a clear idea of what I was getting into and seven months to prepare. This time around, I had less than half the time and half the confidence. I know what my job is going to be I just have no idea how I'm going to do it. My fauxmance (what else do you call it?) was the perfect excuse to not deal with any of these feelings and yet, it created a whole new set of emotions.

I learned a few things about myself in this last week an the most important one seems to be my complete inability to recognize intimacy, whether it's real or the kind that shields me from dealing with reality. It was much easier to walk around holding his hand than to pack up my life. It was much easier to spend time with him than my friends, because he's "super cute" (and he was) and I'm not attached to him, he won't make me cry.

So put it on the list of things I need to improve on as I continue on this new journey.

As for the Fauxmance? We're friends right now, we might see each other in a week or so or we might not. And that is okay.