The Lovers, The Dreamers, and Me

"No, I don't think you're flaky. That's not how I'd describe you at all. I was watching you a little bit earlier today, and you were just walking along, and I was sure you would see me, but you didn't. You just seemed so lost within your own mind, like you were dreaming while you were awake. So I'd describe you as reflective and thoughful. A dreamer."

So she said to me a couple weekends ago. She's a new friend, one who I took classes with all fall and ended up at a 3-day conference with earlier this month. I've worked with her for the last seven years, and have had just a few conversations with her - until this semester, when we spent several hours together twice a week in our horrible Coppin State classes, then a weekend conference.

As usually happens when I befriend a woman, she is either a lesbian or she is in a serious relationship. She falls into both categories. So it's not that. But forming a new connection with a new person is something else I enjoyed this season. And I loved her lines from above. I had done one of my classically stupid things that day - hmmmm, probably forgot my nametage to the conference, or leaving my bag somewhere - and slid into my self-defense mechanism of self-derision. I try to embrace my flakiness because what else can you do?

But she made me feel better about that. I am a dreamer.

That's probably why as I left my house at 6:30 a.m. on Christmas Eve morning, that I went twice around the beltway before I left the city, meaning I didn't really get on the road until 8 a.m. I have no good reason. I just missed I-70. I didn't realize it until I was several miles past I-70, but refused to believe it, until I started realizing I was hitting the harbor; by then, it was too silly to turn around. So I spent an hour driving around the beltway that morning, in my rental vehicle that is costing me over $800. I'm trying to justify it a bit in my head, but there is the ridiculous fact that the $800 is pretty much three car payments.

(Long story short about the car rental: I was quoted $382 on the internet. On the way, sister and mother both informed me that I better get an SUV because the roads were really, really bad. That was an upgrade. And I was guilted into the $22/day insurance because honestly I'm not sure if my own insurance would cover an accident and the nice man at the counter [as well as my state police officer cousin] said I'd be crazy not to get it. And why did I rent a car over flying? Renting a car, I thought, was cheaper than flying, renting a car in Michigan, and boarding the dog. And I loooove driving, especially alone - I sing and dance and fart and hold long conversations with my dog. However, let's face it - this is a typical stupid-with-money story, though. I could have freaking flown to Europe for $850!)

I'm not belaboring this issue anymore, though it might make me call back the restaurant, which keeps calling me and calling me about extra shifts available. I'm trying not to think about it, though. Baltimore seems a wonderful drive (no bad weather at all, actually, except for rain) and six worlds away from here, where life is slow and moving from the living room to the family room constitutes a major movement. Christmas was good. I got a very appropriate G.P.S. Locator for my car. I got some cool books I want to read, including The Story of Edgar Sawtelle, and a couple of CDs I wanted, including Kanye West's latest and the Alice Smith CD whose title this entry shares.

So, yeah. Not flaky and airheady, but reflective and full of dreams. I hope, at least. This is why I need to find someone grounded, to balance me out a bit. A Paul McCartney for my John Lennon, a Leah Remini for my Kevin James, a Carla for my Turk.

Back to Hamlet with a mute boy and his strange dogs.... I'd love to finish this beast of a book over this little vacation...

The winter of my dis(rather)content(edness)

What a disappointing winter it has been. No snow, but lots and lots of rain and almost 100% gray, cloudy days. One reason I'm looking forward to my trek to Michigan (other than the 12-hour drive, which I'm rather excited about - a great time for thought-collecting, listening to music, and listening to books-on-CD) is that my parents already have a lot of snow at their place. It will feel like Christmas.

Still, despite the weather, it has been a decent season. Besides the election of Barack Obama, which seems like the culmination of four years of hoping for me, I've been active in other, different ways: I went on three dates and it was good. I think it's over now, which is okay - I felt like each successive date got a little less special than the one before it, and the last one ended kind of awkwardly (and I haven't had my latest phone call returned, so it's probably a mutual feeling). At least it happened; it had been a while and I think it might lead to more.

Otherwise, though, I find my life in my early 30s as in a holding pattern a bit. I'm still renting, and don't feel that motivated to buy a house; I feel like I should be 100% debt free before that occurs. I'm still driving the same car I've been driving for 7 years; it's on its last legs, and I don't trust it to drive back to Michigan (I'm going to rent), but I don't really want to jump headfirst into a new car purchase right now. I'm enjoying the time not spent waiting tables, but am wasting too much of it. I'm working out like crazy, but also eating as if I'm worried the world is running out of food, so the overall net loss is small. The years keep rolling by.

Thankfully, I have teaching, which seems to get better and better with age. It's been a good year; I feel refreshed and envigorated almost every day in front of all those young people. The ninth graders bring me the most joy; the eleventh graders provoke my thought. How lucky I feel to work in a challenging, stimulating, and creative environment every day...

Not sure where that came from. I guess it is the season of giving thanks and reflection, though. I'm not blogging very much over here these days, and maybe I should do this more. It feels good.

In support of Mayor Dixon. Can't believe the haters hated on a 2.5% raise!

Just a quick note about Mayor Dixon: I think she's done an awesome job. Give me sort-free recyclying and less murders and I'm a happy Baltimorean. I didn't vote for her and thought she was going to be awful, but she has proven me wrong.

And I think it's absolutely ridiculous that people gave her crap about accepting a mandated cost-of-living raise. What the hell? A cost of living raise? Really? What a load of bullshit it is that people in this city are up in arms about that, but not about so many other issues that this city has. I couldn't believe it.

I give Dixon some credit for changing her mind, because it came across as genuine and, after all, she should listen to her constituents. But where do they get off, really?

Where does magic come from? I think magic's in the learning. Cuz now when Christians sit with Pagans, only pumpkin pies are burning.

I ran into Dar Williams tonight. Not literally. Just surfing. It's not the holiday season without hearing "The Christians and the Pagans" a few times. It's been far too long since I've seen her live.

The spirit of a hustler and the swagger of a college kid

I feel like the top-40 music on the radio this summer wasn't very good, but the winter has offered some of the best pop music I can remember. T.I. is awesome - "Live Your Life" is an anthem that reaches across genres and listening groups; I seriously try to listen to the song every day, especially during workouts but also just, like, on the way to school, whenever I need to ignore what the haters say. I'm also loving Beyonce's new songs; I'm not sure how anyone can resist a song like "Put a Ring on It. And best yet is probably Jasmine Sullivan's "Bust Your Windows." Damn, that woman rocks. I bought her CD, and the whole thing is great Philly soul.

And Beyonce Knowles is so ridiculously beautiful, probably the most beautiful woman in America. Especially as a cop. Is that revealing too much? Probably:



Here is Sullivan. The video doesn't do much for me, because the song itself, and the CD, is more pained and modest than this - it doesn't make sense for her to be all done up with makeup, it's a song of heartache. Still, a great song, sort of reminds me of Alanis Morissette's "You Oughta Know."

Automatic sinks and cold water

I spent some time in the new Hilton today. I'd never been there or paid much attention to it, didn't notice it at the several Orioles games I went to last year, and was a little surprised to hear, when I was inside it, that it was that hotel that I have read about a lot in the news.

It's nice, with an incredible view of the ballfield.

However, it reminded me of something - I really, really hate automatic sinks. Not becuase I particularly like to use a faucet, but because they almost always have frigid water. First of all, you're supposed to wash your hands with warm, soapy water, so having ice cold water doesn't kill all the germs that it should. Secondly, it's just too damn cold. I can't wash my hands like I'd like to after going to the bathroom, because I can't tolerate the temperature too long. For someone who goes to the bathroom as often as me (23 times in three days of the conference, mostly because I was sucking down the free coffee like there was no tomorrow), this is a huge issue.

The Charles has a similar situation with their sinks. It's a good example of technology making like more difficult and unpleasant.