LIFE IS A BEACH

The 4th of July my son stayed with his father, a rare occurrence, and I tried to figure out what I wanted to do with myself. I had participated in the Blue Star Mother's parade, walked to my car and contemplated the day. Seems like you are always
supposed to do something on the 4th, a big barbecue, block party, what ever, but since on our block , several people tend to dislike one another, there was no block party, and no barbecue I had been invited to. I set out for the club I belong to .
They were having a barbecue during the day and there are several swimming pools. I figured I could just hang out there, and then figure out what to do next. When you are not dating anyone, and your best friend lives about 150 miles away, you sort of feel displaced on these holidays, but you seceretly don't want anyone to know how frigging messed up a 4th of July holiday can be. If your Christmas Eve is messed up and lonely, you can hide out inside by a fireplace and watch television.
Later you can tell people that you attended a family event with twenty five people and ate roasted pig and chestnuts, but
the 4th is some big outside thing. You can really feel exposed on this day. So, I went to the club figuring I'd have a drink, eat some food, and swim and read my book. I headed off to the pool, plopped down on a chair, and was going to apply the sun screen and read when I noticed some family friends playing some type of volley ball game in the pool. I said hello,a couple of friends of theirs invited me to pull up a chair and we got to talking, about the club, teaching, etc; . I headed off to the
makeshift bar to get a drink, something that this couple I was talking to called a MIkey, sort of a tequilla sunrise improvised
with a splash of lemonade named after some guy they knew at the club that sort of only drank this one drink. any way, I returned with the drink, and the couple , who were actually quite friendly had to leave, to head off to another party, and I was left knowing only the family friends, but not the rest of the volley ball crew. They stayed about ten minutes longer, and now I was alone with their friends, none of which I knew, and none of which cared to even ask my name,I was now sitting
in their group, not talking, but sort of too paralyzed to move. I attempted to enter the conversation a couple of times, but it was feeble and weak. Those socially inept feelings from college crept over me, that is a whole nother Oprah show, and I
now found it really difficult to talk since again, no one even knew my name. One woman was quite attractive, a blonde in her forties quite taken with herself, another woman was sort of large, but equipped with that old high school attitude, the one that translates into, I may not be that good looking, but I am mean so I fit in. I managed to last about another twenty to thirty minutes sitting nervously with these people, kind of like a goldfish in a tank with some Jack Dempseys, when I decided
I have got to go before I have a melt down.I packed up my stuff, wished everyone a happy 4th, politically correct and all, turned to go, and heard, just as I reached the pool gate, with my back turned, I am sure it was the big gal say, "She's weird!"
I swear I wanted turn back and punch the big tanned whale. You always think to yourself, I left highschool behind me. I don't have to deal with people like this anymore , but it's not true the mean girls never DIE! I returned home, took a shower
and went to see THE DEVIL WEARS PRADA. It was sort of symbolic of the day.

photo of Korea

photo of Korea

OFF TO KOREA

Yesterday, I took my son to the San Francisco Airport for a year's tour of duty in Korea. He stood and smoked a cigarette before entering the terminal. We piled his duffle bags on a cart and took the elevator down to the terminal. I noticed the travelers dressed in shorts and flip flops, jogging suits and jeans and immediately this pang of jealousy , an overwhelming feeling of envy for thiose who can just travel, go some place because they have the money and they want to, came over me. Every time I board a plane it's now a big deal, the trips I once took when married are now scarce, taken on some income tax return, purchasing a ticket to some where, any where, just to go, and then spending all the money I have taken along and returning home broke. When I am experiencing these envious fits , let's call them travel envy, I am also reminded that some people
have never been on a plane, and I have been fortunate just to have been able to fly to Europe, go to Hawaii, Mexico, Bahamas, Canada, etc; but many of those trips took place many years ago, and the memories are now a little dusty, like my mind at the moment, and saying to myself, you have been fortunate just to have been able to go , is sort of like saying you need to clean your plate, there are people starving in Africa. Yes, there are people starving , and in too many places than I can currently even recall or spell the names of, but if our children clean their plates everyone still starves. If I am appreciative of trips taken twenty years ago, that's great, but I still see the jogging suits and hiking boots and want to go. We ate the expensive airport food, I hugged him goodbye, and I sarted missing him before he even walked away. A year in Korea to avoid another year in Iraq. I had been seeing him every day for the past three and a half weeks, and the thought of sending him away hit hard. It was difficult not to think what if he, myself, his wife and my youngest son, were just going to Korea
as tourists, to visit? It's an amazing class distiction in America , more pronounced than ever. Airports filled with predominately
white people and Asians. I paid my eleven dollar temporary parking fee, exited out to the freeway, and thought immediately of Christmas, hoping that perhaps he will get leave for the holidays, but fairly sure it won't happen.

GHOSTS IN THE CLASSROOM

Lately, a couple of students in my classroom have turned a few simple journal topics into a platform of sorts, a Christian platform of sorts. Last week I tossed out a simple journal topic, one that generally raises a bit of discussion, The topic was do you believe in ghosts? I related watching several Ghost Hunter episodes on the sci fi station, and found myself believing in
spirits, ghosts, what ever you wish to call them. In fact, those guys calling themselves TAPS have really grabbed my attention.
I can't wait to get home Wednesday nights to catch the next show. So far, my favorite one has been the light house
investigation where they actually caught an apparition of sorts moving about on the top level of the light house. Perhaps I'm naive but ya gotta believe in two guys who work for Roto Rooter during the day to be telling the truth. Even if they aren't finding gthosts , to tell you the truth, the show is really fun to watch even when they are just debunking noises in your house. For example, you hear a plate drop off the counter every night at midnight, and TAPS comes in and films your 24 pound cat knocking it off with its paw at the same time you noticed the noise each night.
Any way, to make a long story short, I just asked if the students believed in ghosts, a topic I have safely used for years, and one of the girls who has seriously annoyed me this year shot her hand up immediately. I just knew I had to call on her
but I was not eager for her response. She stated, "I believe in the one spirit, the true spirit, the holy spirit!" She then smirked, turned to her classroom friend as if to say, hey we got the liberal left wing _____! Any way, I suppose I did make a smart
remark, but it wasn't that serious. I consider myself a Christian, but an inclusive one, not an exclusive one.......
Since this story has additional addendums, and will need to be told later, just to get to the point, I am now being accused of
challenging a student's Christianity. If anyone ever says to me again, " I have great admiration for teacher", I am afraid of what I might say. THIS WEEK SHOULD BE FUN! I will put my call into the ACLU.

coffee

I can't believe it took me so long to work this out!
I used to grind the coffee beans, place the filter in the coffee
maker and then attempt to dump the ground coffee into the filter.
Needless to say, the ground coffee went every where, and actually some even ended up
in the filter. God, where was Martha when I needed her?
Well, on my own without her assistance, I figured it out, place the filter over the grinder, turn it upside down, and dump the ground coffee into the filter. Next, place the filter into the filter basket ! Voila!, no mess,
I know everyone has probably been doing this except me.
I felt like a rocket scientist for once.
Martha Stewart would say it is now perfectly perfect!
Only Martha will get this joke....

flowers

I love flowers even after working in several florists over the years when ever I was not gainfully employed as a teacher. Recently, i took a job and worked a few days at a florist over the Valentine's Day weekend. It was great to get back to
doing something that actually made people happy. There was not a teenager around requesting his grade, text messaging, or listening to an I pod while I am giving instructions for an assignment, only to remark later, "What did she say?" I have become she, the almighty she , and as much as stay at home mothers feel that after a while they lose their identities, sorting through laundry and changing diapers, I know I most certainly have lost mine. If I could just leave my computer at my high school unattended for a few hours so each student could fill in the grade of his or her choice, I know I would no longer be needed. I'll be back at the florist again over Mother's Day , and I'll be happy to be doing something once again that puts a smile on the face of women I may never meet.

Oh, First FUll Day of Spring Break !

Let's see there are a million things I should do , and only a few I will do. I woke up close to nine, I normally get up around five, so that was great. I watched Martha Stewart and Starting Over. I love Martha, anyone that can recover that quickly from prison gets my complete admiration. I talked to my son, the one who just returned from Iraq. I went to the library, knitted,
did some laundry, went to Mervyn's returned some pants I got my younger son and answered some E mails. I think I should work for Martha Stewart. And I think I'll make a pizza because Wolfgang Puck was on Martha, and he made pizza. It was a great day. Even the sun came out today in Northern California.

Does Anyone Care About This War?

I really thought someone might respond to my blog, but it seems that most Americans disapprove of the war, but few have much to say about it. It appears that it is something that is happening over there, not here. I just read a good article in a news magazine that is designed for teenagers, (one that my students read in my English class) , and it stated that most soldiers feel that Americans don't have to sacrifice much for the war in Iraq, other than an inconvenience of an early arrival at an airport with post 9/11 security measures. Other than families of soldiers deployed, few seem to think about it much.
My son came home alive, and my heart goes out to the families of those that did not. I just saw a news clip of the president , and he appears much older, three years of this has aged him rightfully so,as it aged the parents of those who served, and is aging the parents of those currently deployed, and those who wait for their sons and daughters who wil soon leave for iraq.