defeat in battle

Today was rough. Bureaucracy was in full bloom. Everywhere I went, there it was. "They" took my mentor away and assigned a new one-- as if I can just build a relationship like that. It was especially ironic after having gone to multiple workshops on the importance of relationship in teaching.

And, my principal sprung an observation on me by Friday, which is just a lot of extra paperwork and two extra meetings the week report card grades are due. I think I'm going to tell her I'll do it Tuesday of next week. And, I've decided to start running in the morning-- 5am. I figure that the perfect week to start doesn't exist. The weather is nice. So that's something. I'll just go to bed early tomorrow to make up for the change in wake-up time. It's only a 40 minute difference. It shouldn't be that hard, right? Since it's getting dark at night, it'll be safer to run in the morning because traffic is lighter.

My relationships are all out of whack, and I guess that would put me to blame. But, I swear there's something more to it. Life is just really heavy and sticky right now.

I did email a contact to help me start looking for jobs for next year. So, that worry is a little lighter.

mom on david gray

One time as I listened to David Gray's early album at my mom's house, she mentioned that he was clearly British. I asked, "Could you tell by his accent?" She said, "No, his diction. His word choice is clearly British; an American would never use some of those words."

She's right. Although his music has improved over time, his lyrics lack the prophetic passion his earlier work had. There's a poetry and accuracy within his early stuff. It's as if he went to LA and learned how to be shallow. As if he fell in love with a blond, got a tan, and penned "Please Forgive Me" and "Babylon" in lieu of "Let the Truth Sting." Not that "Please Forgive Me" isn't a great song; it just lacks scope and magnitude. Yes, there's universality in particularity, but there's also a place for the poetic pointing finger calling us out. Please forgive me, I miss the old David Gray.

fun with fritattas

I have never made a fritatta, and I'm not sure I've eaten one. But, I got curious because I heard about them, and they seem like an easy quiche. And, I thought the word sounded Spanish. I was wrong: it's Italian for omelette. However, I think I want to make a spinach and mushroom one after I finish up my casseroles.

I had my brother over for dinner. He was an easy guest. Of course, I wasn't at my apartment when he got there. I was on a a beer walk (he once noted, "J, I'm not gay. I don't drink red wine or hot tea.") So, things didn't run smoothly, but that's part of the fun. Hospitality feels a lot like teaching in that respect. He said he liked the salmon casserole better than the Mexican one when he was prepared to enjoy the Mexican. I like how easy going he is-- I had chips and salsa out on the table then served yeast rolls. He didn't blink an eye. Then, "for entertainment", we went on a walk and swung on the elementary school swings and talked about life and jobs. I had a great time. Of course, he's had years of practice with my antics.

So, I borrowed "Love Walked In" by Marisa De Los Santos from the library because my sister said she could see me writing some of the sentences in it. That piqued my interest: what kind of sentences would I write? It looks like chit lit (bad); it's a NYT bestseller (less bad).

I've finished my homework for my Bible study, but haven't done the writing assigment for my Spanish class. I'm supposed to write a single's want ad peppered with reflexive verbs. If I do it, I'll just write random sentences with "me gusta" and "nos preocupa", etc. I get she's trying to do "authentic writing" exercises, but that kind of writing is the antithesis of authentic for me.

I didn't run today. I grade Rikki-tikki-tavi tests instead.

rikki tikki tavi

This weekend wandered through its alotted hours at a quick enjoyable pace. Sleep was my major accomplishment, looking upon it. I was exhausted and crabby Friday night, but by Sunday, I was back to amiable.

I went to the opening of the uptown Mint Museum of Art. It was fantastic-- they were open 24 hours for free. I took advantage of the tame, family-friendly hours. The art teacher from my school was there figure-drawing. I posed with the paid model for 15 minutes. It was a lot harder than it looks. But, the charcoal is now safely tucked under my bed. I haven't set it yet.

I had a lovely dinner with a dear friend and we aimed to discuss Eugene Peterson's Reversed Thunder. But, we didn't get past the introduction-- there was too many other things with which to chat-- from bangs to PhDs to genes. The food and company were incredibly enjoyable and edifying. Friends feel like home. I remember who I am outside of present circumstances when I'm with a true friend. CSL may be right when he calls friendship the highest love. Being around M always renews my appreciation and awe of the power of hospitality and food.

I was so inspired by M that on Sunday afternoon I spent two hours cooking. I made a salmon, spinach, sauteed mushroom, onion and garlic, corn, cream of mushroom and whole wheat rotini casserole. And a mexican one with brown rice, salsa, corn, chicken, onions, black beans and cheese. I froze the extra in zip lock bags-- I spread them out in a thin layer so it will be easy to thaw them. I felt very creative. Cooking makes me want to drink wine.

We're reading Rikki Tikki Tavi in class. It's a fun little ditty full of simile and metaphor, which is fun.