Monday, March 15, 2010

Intellectually, Illogically, Hodgey-Podgey

I'm an upfront kind of person, which is why I'm going to be upfront and say this post will resemble nothing more closely than a hodge-podge all-you-can-eat buffet currently rattling around in my cranium.

I'm not entirely sure I know where to start.

Starting at the beginning would be logical, but we all know that I'm not the most logical thing on the planet. Very rarely do I listen to my voice of Spock.

I'm not sure if you realized it, but if you look hard enough in your days, you can kind of see the future. I'm not talking about becoming clairvoyent or anything like that, just...the little things. The glimpses. Not really a big picture, just small moments. Today was one of those days (the first, actually) that I got to spend all school day at my cooperating school with my cooperating teacher. My cooperating teacher and I get along quite well - we have an interest in science (obviously, though his primary focus is in physics), we enjoy the hands-on approach to teaching and learning, and we have a sense of humor and this idea that coming to school should be, oh, what's that word, fun for all parties involved. Which involved eight, eight-inch long two by sixes with a face and an edge covered in sand paper for a lab on the force of friction. That was preceded (told you I didn't operate logically) by the Van de Graaff generator (which is incredibly cool and will make your hair stand on end, literally), and a Wimshurst machine (like lightening, only smaller and less deadly) and a whole bunch of other fun static electricity events, including making packing peanuts dance a jig (it is almost Saint Patty's day).

And I just got hit with a craving for HoHo's of which I can find in the lounge four floors down and next building over.

I have more HoHo's than I originally wanted, but I'll just put them in my lunch tomorrow, along with a fiber bar and hope that it won't come back to bite me severely in the rear end because the vending machine in the teachers' lounge dropped a can of root beer instead of the bottle of Evian water that it was supposed to be (it was labeled water, that was why I hit it).

Anyway, so today was probably pretty average in terms of what you would expect from a high school. Or a college sophomore observing in a high school classroom that houses middle schoolers because there is no actual eighth grade science teacher - well, there is one. He just comes with a degree in physics and teaches two subjects to two very different groups of students.

So, I was driving back and had just come back into town, and realized that I needed to get dinner. This is where one of those little glimpses into the future came into play, because instead of the words single, teaching placement, and food there was basically the sentence, I need to pick something up for dinner before I head home from work. Which feels a lot like what's coming is trying to get here quicker, and I'm not entirely sure if I'm ready for that or not. I had another sense of it while sitting on my floor watching Blind Dating (decent movie, and I really only watched it because Chris Pine is in it, and he's absolutely adorable and a lovely actor) and I could see myself doing the exact same thing in a small apartment somewhere, maybe with some friends, and probably a glass or two of wine.

At the same time that it's thrilling, it's downright damn terrifying.

There are certain stages in your life, the things that you mark easily with the pass of time and celebrations, whether they be big or small. They are the things that you and the people you impact don't forget. I can tell you roughly how old I was when my cousin moved to Rhode Island; and I can tell you exactly where I was, and how old I was, when it really hit me that my sister was moving out of the house that we had always shared to begin a life of her own. I was twelve, and standing at the bottom of the driveway on gray spring day. And I cried. Did I write that to make my sister feel guilty in any way? No, I didn't. It's simply the truth - hard though it may be - but then I've never really had problems with the hard truth, now have I?

As much as we want to grow up, we don't want to change and move on to newer, brighter, scarier phases and stages of our lives. It's just the way that humans are built. Even being a Sagittarius with perpetually wandering feet (which I have no doubt that my mother and my sister have figured out given how restless I can be when I'm in one place for too long) doesn't mean that said Sagittarius is going to wander out into the great unknown, be it totally and completely willingly, without feeling some sense of insecurity and possibly (probably) mind-numbing terror and the phrase Why the hell did I want to do this? running over and over through said Sagittarian head.

As mentioned previously, that's one of those things where it just works out that way.

I like change, actually, provided it comes in small doses with a set of instructions, preferably in logical order and in English. I also like stability, provided it comes in small doses with a set of instructions, logical order and English not required. Then again, that's just me.

And holy schnickeys, the hair cut on Sean Patrick Flanery in Suicide Kings leaves quite a bit to be desired. And I mean quite a bit.

Not sure I can handle not having the Irish accent coming from him, either, but that's probably here nor there. And how they haven't all passed out from chloroform vapors (because, seriously, we used that in lab before and if you didn't cap it right away, you ran the damn good risk of hitting the floor if you weren't careful of where you were in relation to the open bottle) is beyond me.

Scratch that - the Irish is peekin' through.

Sorry. Easily distracted right here.

Not to mention that I'm kind of tired but nine-thirty might be pushing it as a little early to go to bed. Even though a slightly obscene amount of sleep would be lovely. The only issue is that I have to clean off my bed (hang clothes up and such) and you've seen first-hand that a zeal for laundry is not in the cards in this family. Even if they are clean clothes.

So, I'm pretty sure that I've hit the point in this post where something once meaningful turns to rambling, and honestly, me rambling probably isn't what you wanted to be reading. So, anything witty and deep has probably already been said in the previous paragraphs. At this moment in my life, I think I am going to unearth my bed, faceplant, and sleep. And tomorrow...when it comes....I can go home again for the rest of the week. Actually have spring break.

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"The difference between life and the movies is that a script has to make sense, and life doesn't."

-Joseph L. Mankiewicz