Sycamore Down

Here's a helpful hint, from me to you: never read T. Coraghessan Boyle's, "The Love of My Life" when you are young, infatuated, in a long distance relationship, and currently planning a spring break trip with the object of your infatuation. It's a little too close to home. Instead, read David Schickler's "The Smoker" and indulge those fantasies about your English teacher that you never knew you had. Or just enjoy the detail of Schickler's narrative.

I have now been back home for two weeks. It feels like a lifetime. Time is a tricky devil like that. I'm falling into step here though. Work is going well, routine, the hours of the day are starting to fit together with ease, sleep comes easier, my skin is adjusting to its new role here. It's interesting how geography dictates so much of perspective. I spent the last 3.5 years living on my own, or living with Hailey, rather. And now, I'm here, and in two weeks, this already feels like the norm. The way it has always been. I never thought that I would be a quick adapter. I lived in the same house for 18 years before college. But maybe after the first move, it becomes easier to adapt to the next.

Other than the move, I'm finding other things to fit into my new daily routine. Like tea. I've decided to get hooked on tea, because it's healthy and pretentious, and I can make it at home, since there are no coffee shops open past 6. The tea I'm drinking tonight reminds me of an abandoned crayon in a pack of 64. That weird mix of green and yellow that didn't look good, no matter what you were drawing. I've also started eating yogurt, and oatmeal, both things I tried when I was 8, disliked, and had assumed that I would hate them forever. Turns out, not so much. This revelation had me cheering for Brett Favre and the Packers again, but sadly, they have broken my heart and I am officially off the NFL again.

I've also decided to turn my Hastings job into some sort of anthropological study of Garden City. So far I am learning about the wide variety of people who purchase dirty magazines. The type of small talk in a situation like that is a gold mine of awkward and uncomfortable dialogue. I'm hoping to get some serious inspiration from the job to make up for the lack of decent pay. I'll keep you all posted.

Survivor

I just got home from my first day as a substitute teacher.

I subbed for 8th grade Reading at Abe Hubert Middle School.

And I survived.

I've never been so nervous about anything... ever.

But now, it is over. Until 7:30 am tomorrow.

Also, Steven sent me tulips yesterday. He's kind of spectacular.

Frustrated.

So, I think I've figured out why I haven't been sleeping this week. Part of it has to do with my ridiculous schedule in Manhattan. Stay up til 5am, sleep until 2pm. Not really conducive to Garden City life. Then, when I finally get here, my waking hours are little more than being asleep with my eyes open. I watch Gilmore Girls. I drink tea. I read Lorrie Moore. I drink Dr. Pepper. Occasionally I'll eat some yogurt. It's strenuous stuff. In addition to my sedentary lifestyle, I haven't been working. I'm finally in the system now, but only subbing for high school. Because I earned my degree, and I will not, cannot, refuse to, follow around third graders and accidentally making one of them cry or pee their pants or bite someone. It's too much. So tonight, when I discovered that there were no jobs available for tomorrow, something in my head finally clicked.

I need to apply for other jobs too.

Initially, I was opposed to this idea. Substitute teaching gave me the flexibility to leave for a week at a time, lounge around in Manhattan, enjoy a mini-vacation once a month. Other jobs, even crappy part-time ones, don't exactly grant that sort of schedule and allow you to keep your job.

I suppose one alternative would be to take the crappy elementary school subbing jobs and suck it up, and hold out for the vacation.

Or...

I could sub occasionally AND work my part-time job. This doesn't allow me to visit Manhattan as often, but maybe that's better. I think part of my sleeplessness is stemming from the fact that I keep taking shortcuts. I'm looking for the easier path, the job where I can keep my brain on autopilot while collecting paychecks and refreshing myself before grad school in August.

I don't know. Maybe this is just another short cut. But I'm blogging about this just in case you, the informed populace of Garden City, know of any jobs where I could actually learn something, or use my degree in even the smallest capacity. Jobs paying significantly more than minimum wage are a plus.

At the very least, I'm doing something. That feels better.

I like giants

Last weekend, Steven and I went to Topeka to judge for DCI. Well, Steven didn't judge. He just kept me company. Because we're still in that early phase of the relationship where you do ridiculous things together - like watching debate rounds that you have absolutely zero interest in. Or staying up all night watching Mark Sommers host a game show for Social Studies teachers. It was a good trip.

We also went to see Juno, which was wonderful, and I laughed and cried and came away love love loving Kimya Dawson. It's actually in Garden City, so everyone should see it. No excuses. It's adorable.

And also, you should check out The Moldy Peaches and Kimya Dawson. They're silly and fabulous.

"When I go for a drive I like to pull off to the side
Of the road, turn out the lights, get out and look up at the sky
And I do this to remind me that I'm really, really tiny
In the grand scheme of things and sometimes this terrifies me

But it's only really scary cause it makes me feel serene
In a way I never thought I'd be because I've never been
So grounded, and so humbled, and so one with everything
I am grounded, I am humbled, I am one with everything

Rock and roll is fun but if you ever hear someone
Say you are huge, look at the moon, look at the stars, look at the sun
Look at the ocean and the desert and the mountains and the sky
Say I am just a speck of dust inside a giant's eye
I am just a speck of dust inside a giant's eye."