A Dissident Citizen

Shout out

2010-06-19T19:04:00.000-07:00

I don't know why I thought of this, but it's by far my favorite facebook status ever:

Rawley Davis Bro If you say "beer can" with a british accent, you are also saying "bacon" with a Jamaican accent.

My Time in Exile

2010-06-14T18:38:00.000-07:00

Hi ho, everyone.

This is piece is going to be a special one. I am currently writing this blog from one of my favorite places in the entire world: my parent's backyard. Since it is such a beautiful, muggy, summer night, I thought I'd write outside. We will see how long this lasts, as the mosquiters are something vicious tonight.

For those of you who don't know, I was in San Fransisco this past week visiting Paul. I wanted to get a post in while I was in California, but birthday celebrations lasted basically all week. Turning 24 is the party that everyone says it is and more. However, I don't know that I would be able to write this particular blog when I was there.

My trip to S.F. was kind of a get away both mentally and physically from school. Between working all last summer to get my proverbial shit together in the classroom, I have been around Princeton High School pretty much constantly for the past 2 years. I needed an opportunity to get away. I love it at Princeton, don't get me wrong. But I feel that the kids, the bosses, and the parents can weigh on you if you don't give yourself a break. It's like when my mom used to tell me after I did something especially stupid; I love you, but I need to be away from you right now so I don't beat you with a wiffle bat.

Every now and then I think it is really important for people to take a good hard look at themselves. Not because something horrible has happened in their lives. Not because they are necessarily unhappy. I think that in order for us to be happy in this life, we really have to be self-critical. Do I mean that I need to be obsessed with myself? No. Does it mean that I cry in bed at night because my abs doesn't look like they belong to some d-bag on Jersey Shore. Probably not. I do though feel it's healthy to ask tough questions about yourself. Am I my making use of the time I have? Have I been spending too much time on Alpaca message boards? What could I be doing instead of watching Sportscenter for the third time this morning?

Ok, bugs are being a pain in the ass. I am moving this party to the porch.

Much better.

If you couldn't tell my last few months have been a little restless. Between some added stress from school (we aren't going to talk about that) and the feeling like my days are rushing by me, I haven't felt like I had to the time or the energy to really take a moment and ask "What the hell am I doing?". I didn't have the energy to do things I wanted to do, much less the things I had to do. For a while, it seemed like doing menial tasks like cleaning the dishes was an unbearable chore (on second thought, maybe it is...). It's easy to fall into those ruts where you don't feel fresh and do not have the fortitude to really take a closer look.

So let's take a closer look at myself. What can I see? For starters I think that I have been far too anxious. I completely attribute that to not taking the time and doing one of my favorite de-stressing mechanisms: writing. Sometimes it is way too easy to forget how we cope with life. It's like when you give a friend advice: to you the picture is clear on how to solve the problem. You are on the outside, free from the stress and emotions attached to the situation. I know I forget to take my own advice all the time. I can also see I have been more impulsive. I have quieted down my personality since high school, but lately I feel like I have been talking more then listening in a social setting. Does this mean I am regressing in maturity? Sure hope not, but what it does mean is that I need like to remember that I am happier when I don't become the obnoxious center of attention. Is it because I spend my days around high school kids? Perhaps, but it's important for me to remember that I am in fact, a grown ass man. And while I have great relationships with my kids, sometimes for my own sanity I need my space from them.

But as I look further in, I can see there is a growing trend with some of the hobbies that I take up. I really like to listen to new music, read books, watch movies, play piano, learn new things (like Spanish), go to Church,cook, volunteer and do Yoga. Usually I start off really well doing all of these things, but after a while, I'll have a few busy days and I will forget to do read my book. Or I will be really tired one morning and not have enough time to do some yoga. I start strong, but I don't always continue to do the things I actually enjoy with the same passion I do when I begin them. I don't like that. What's troubling is that I am going to be taking grad classes this fall. I will have even less time on my hands then this past school year. I have to remember for my own health that I have have lots of cool, interesting pastimes. Things that are way cooler then wasting time on the internet looking at God knows what. Interestingly enough, I have to stop doing the diversions that are easy, and do the diversions that I actually like.

I made a realization today. They say that every time God closes a door, he opens a window. I can make two observations from this. One God is hot because he always has to have a breeze going through the house. Second, God didn't spring for A.C. because if he did, he wouldn't have a door open because that shit is expensive, and I don't care who you are, no one has enough money to air condition the whole neighborhood.

Or God is woman with hot flashes.

My New Baby

2010-05-18T14:31:00.001-07:00

I never got a chance to post pictures of this before.
Ain't it grand?

A Wake For Graduating Souls

2010-04-26T18:34:00.000-07:00

Well, the wind that blows,
It's blowing colder.
And the child that grows,
She's growing older.
And the friends we've known,
they'll turn a shoulder.
Yeah, the friends we've known,
they're growing colder, so...

Who we are now? Who we are?
It's who are now we are.
Where does time go now,
On a wake for young souls?

-"Wake For Young Souls", Third Eye Blind

This past weekend was the 6th annual Evans Scholar Pub Crawl. There will no details discussed from this event.

What I will discuss is how when I was in Oxford this past weekend, I got to see some old friends still in school. Most are finishing up their degrees and it was really cool to see how everyone's lives where headed in such diverse directions. It's also cool to know that I was surrounded by some really talented individuals whom I am lucky enough to call friends. Talking to them about their futures made me think of how I was reacting to the invasive procedure known as "graduation." It was particularly difficult for me for to reasons. For one, my best friend was moving all the way across the country (we are totally not gay). Second, and maybe more relevant to those who read this blog, I had no job. I had no idea where I was going and what I was going to do. It's not easy to think about when you are in the process of making a major change in your life. So this post is dedicated to the Class of 2010, wither you are graduating college, high school, or kindergarten.

Anytime you make that you know it going to change your life, it's though. Humans don't like change. It's our nature. I felt the toughest part of graduating was the conversations. I hated having the same conversations with my relatives and people from high school. Here's how the basic script looked:

Rando: So Chris, your graduating this year?
Me: Yeah, I guess I am.
Rando: Man, it seems like just days ago you were leaving high school.
Me: (forced laugh) I know.
Rando: So do you have a job lined up?
Me: No, not yet I am still looking.
Rando: We'll something will come up, just keep looking, you'll be fine.
Me: I know. Will you excuse me, I need to go and get another beer.

While variations to the original exist, it was the same crap over and over again. Like you need to be reminded that you don't have a job and you feel like your life is going to nowhere? The problem is that's not fair. You worked hard. Damn hard. You weren't a slacker and you have great goals, you can't achieve them yet. What's worse is that it seems that everyone else you know has it together. All of your friends have jobs lined up, or grad school to go to, or some other plan in place. And because of a bad economy, a bad year, or just bad luck, you are stuck going back home to your parents and maybe their health insurance. I was particularly irritable to my closest family members because of the stress, which made me feel terrible because they are trying so hard to support you. Your only escape is the last few days before your best friends, your livelihood, your dignity and your world, are ripped away from you when some pompous asshole in a mortarboard hands you a piece of paper that seals your fate. You'd wipe your diploma on your own ass, but your grandmother made it all this way for the ceremony, and she's old a dirt and you just can't find it in your heart to let her know how much disdain you have for the circus you've been dragged into.

Your mind then starts to play tricks on you. "Let's stay another year" or "Let's go to grad school because I don't have a plan". All of these sound nice in theory, you know in your heart it's not going to be the same. Yes it will be the same buildings, the same bars, and the price of natty will remain $2. But your reason for staying will be gone. You won't be able to walk into your favorite dive and know EVERYONE. Your friends will be gone, out with the high fliers who soar to high heights. And If you go to graduate school just out of boredom, or because you are searching for another four years that were like the last ones, it's still no good. Grad school is to A Different World as college is to The Cosby Show, a bad spin off from a really great show. You literally feel like you've got no place to go.

But not all is lost.

If there is one thing I can tell you before you pack up and move your life to fill-in-the-blank from a person that has been through and is living on the other side, it's this: It's ok. If you don't have a way or a job or a path, you'll get one. Life after school really isn't the mind numbing torture of doing adult things that legend would have. No, you don't really get drunk on Tuesdays that often, and it's tough to get a job where you can show up in sweats at 10 A.M. But, I firmly believe every fiber of my soul that life is what you make of it. You will still have fun if you so chose to. No, it will not be like college and it shouldn't be. So enjoy your last few weeks of school. Make the best of this, you will never be at this point in your life ever again.

Congrats, bitches.

Slow Motion

2010-04-11T14:43:00.000-07:00

Slow motion, see me let go,
We'll remember these days.
Slow motion, see me let go,
Urban life decay.

-"Slow Motion", Third Eye Blind

Spring Break. That lovely little piece of heaven that's given to teachers at the beginning of April. As many of your know, I spent my week off in Alabama working on my Aunt and Uncle's pine tree farm. The city of Elba is pretty much impossible to describe if you've never been there (you haven't). The best analogy I can give is Forrest Gump's hometown of Greenbow. What I can say is that if you want to see some of the finest rednecks this great land has to offer, look no further then the Coffee County Scrap Yard. I was lucky enough to pay a visit to this Hillbilly Wall Street. Picture the biggest pile of metal shit you can imagine. Then picture a long line of pick up trucks, most of which from the late 70's, filled with more metal shit. This line crawls up to a man with less teeth then fingers operating, which devastating efficiency and grace, a 30 foot crane to scrape out said metal shit. Anything from metal pipes to ENTIRE CARS are taken out of the beds of pick up trucks with not even a scratch on the bed. I couldn't tell which was more compelling; the rednecks or the rusted crap by which from some incomprehensible definition of "useless" they decided to get rid of. Even more interesting is that in the line to get paid for the nonsense you have brought in, is less of a queue, and more of a high school reunion. Everyone knows one another. Only difference is there are more meth heads and less clothes.

However, that was not to coolest part of my trip. My Uncle Ronnie took me on a couple flying lessons. I wish I could go on and on about who flying is an amazing experience. It is. All I can say is that when you are flying a plane by yourself, for real, there is no word that I know of that could describe it.

While the rednecks, oyster bars, and flying lessons were all loads of fun, the best part of my vacation was that it was just that: a vacation. Between the marathon wedding over Thanksgiving, Christmas, and school, I feel like I haven't given myself a mental rest. It's so easy to try to pack your life full of things that you don't get time to think about nothing. For the first time in a long time, I was able to sit down, take a breath, and not think about students, or parties, or errands or anything else. I could enjoy the moment for what it is. And while my spring break was without cute college girls, MTV, and roofie-laden frat guys, it was exactly what I needed. It was glorious because I had none of those things. Emptiness has a purpose as well.

While spring break is a nice diversion from the normal grind of school, it can be good and bad. With the weather being so nice, the school year being almost over, and summer right around the corner, it is easy to get distracted (especially me). It's like when you are at a restaurant and you are waiting for your food, but you are so hungry, you devour the free breadsicks and water so fast and so quickly, you are full by the time your food gets to you. I've been worrying about this in my life recently. It seems that the days are going by quicker and quicker all the time. I am going to be 24 in a few months, and while to some people it may seem incredibly young, I feel the clock ticking. I am incredibly fearful as the pace of life quickens, I won't be able to savor all of life has to offer.

Maybe that's just it. Maybe life is passing by quickly because I am savoring it.

I have a lot of traveling and really great things planned in the next few months. I have a lot of really great things planned ahead. I think what is important is to make sure that I don't try to skip ahead to future scenes when current ones are just as wonderful. Isn't it funny how we long for vacations, but once we are there it seems to go by so fast, you feel like you were never really gone? I guess that's because we build certain points in our life up in heads to be these grandiose events, and everything leading up to those events seem like such a chore. I don't want my summer to go by in a flash. Maybe the best way to prevent that from happening is to enjoy the spring.

Travelocity

2010-03-28T20:54:00.000-07:00

Guess who's back?
Back Again?
Shady's Back.
Tell a friend.

-"Just Lose It", Eminem

Greetings from Elba, Alabama!

Just go ahead and say it. I am a lame. No, I have not updated my blog in almost 6 months. Yes, lots of cool and important things have happened to me and it would have made for some great posts. And, you are probably right, any one who bothered to read my blog has probably forgot that it exists. But none of those reasons are why I write in the first place. I write because it's good for me and I think that people enjoy it. The problem has been that I have been so busy with school and life that I didn't get a who lot of chances to just sit down get my thoughts out. I suppose that's one of the little ironies of life: the more stressed you get, the less likely you are to do the things that help you relax.

So what have you missed? First, John and Jessica's Wedding. It really was a beautiful ceremony, and I can't think of a moment in which I've seen either of them happier. I've known John literally my entire life, and I don't think he could have gotten it any more right. Oh, and the bachelor party kicked ass. (sorry kids, no pictures for that one)

Second, we had the holidays. This was a slightly less hectic time then Thanksgiving because there was no wedding in which I was a contributing member of, but it still seemed like it flew by. However, Christmas was nice and more or less quite. It was good to see and spend time with my family because I don't get to do it often anymore. New Year's Eve was fun, John, Jess and Ryan came down to help me ring in 2010 the right way (Jell-O Shooters).

Then Kate and I hosted the famous Co-notifest, in honor of one of my favorite people in the whole wide world, Co-nats. We threw ourselves a dance party, played various cancer abating games, and snacked upon some tasty Jimmy John's sandwiches. Everyone had tons of fun, but I got to spend some time with Kristen, which is always sweet.

Oh yeah, and I bought a piano.

So why not write about all of these lovely topics? Why wait until now to start writing again? Clearly I had material and being busy is a crap excuse. For one, I think I just had that a bad case of writer's block. I couldn't write anything for my script and it just spilled over into my weekly routine of updating my blog. But I think a more influential factor is that when I talk to people on what they think of my blog, they almost always wish I would write about more humorous topics (like when Lance tried to ask my sister out on a date at John's Bachelor party! Classic!). The truth is, I really wanted to write funny things...I just couldn't. I write what comes to me, and if hilarity ensues, so be it. But I've stopped forcing things in so many other aspects of my life, why do it on my blog? Believe me, I love the feedback, and as always, keep it coming. But I can't write what isn't in my head.

So what is in my head? Two weekends ago, Paul and I made our annual pilgrimage to Chicago. Lucky for us, this trip coincided with the greatest holiday in the galaxy, St. Patrick's Day. While the weekend was lots of fun, and filled with stories that shall not appear in this blog, the weekend was a the unofficial start of Spring and the travel season. This got me thinking about how I can sort of get back into the blog scene. I am going to be visiting a lot places here in the next few months and I have decided to dedicate my blog to the pictures I'll take, the people I meet and the things I will try. Every trip away from home, to matter if you have been there a thousand times or never before, is unique. So I am going to try to make the best of these very unique moments.

Expect a new post up in the next few days. After all, I am on vacation.

p.s. Big shout outs go to Jamie for letting Paul and I crash at her place while in Chicago and Blank for a great career at Princeton High School.

A New Kid on the Writer's Block

2009-11-03T17:58:00.000-08:00

It took longer then I expected, but after four months of script writing, I have come face to face what I have always feared: Writer's block. It's so frustrating because I have so many ideas and things I want to get down on paper, I just can't articulate it. It's like there is a a sea of bumper cars are bouncing around in my head, searching for a way out and into the script. It's been tough even to blog. While mushy ramblings about the genius of teaching are nice once in a while, it's not what you guys want to read or what I want to write about (at least all the time).

So tonight I decided to go for a run and clear my head from the stress of the school day. Lately I have been running at a leisurely pace, but tonight I had a ton of pent up energy so I decided to kick it up a notch (for a those who are looking for the same, here is a great song to run to). As I ran a crazy idea popped into my head: just tell stories. I've always been good at telling stories, and maybe getting back in the mode of writing them would help the writer's block. So 3 miles and 21 minutes later, still was bouncing off the walls, I sat down, and started to write. So here are 3 of my favorite stories.

Focus Group

When I was a freshman in college there was a senior in the house by the name of Del. Out of courtesy I won't deluge his full name, but to paint a picture of what Del looked like, imagine a kid about 5'9'', 130 lbs with elf-like ears, sleepy eyes and a pencil thin smile. However, one of Del's most obvious traits was his hearing aids, which caused him to yell and add an "sh" sound to everything he said. To this day, Del is one of the funniest people I've ever met. For example, one Halloween he went as the deaf, retarded kid. Now, Del was one of those people in college who took an extra couple semesters to get all the credits they needed (I call these "Victory Laps"). And because Del was still in school through most of my time at Miami, Paul and I would see him around campus, and more frequently, the bars. Once Paul and my friend John were having a beer with Del at a Top Deck event the Evans Scholars had one night. As they were finishing a round the following conversation ensued:

John: Alright boys, I gotta get goin'.
Paul: Where are you off to on dollar draft night?
John: Oh, I have this focus group I have to be at for my Management 301 class.
Del: WHAT ARE YOU FOCUSHING ON?
John: I think it's this project for the dinning halls. Something about costumer satisfaction.
Del: I'D FOCUSH ON TITTIESH, CAUSE THATSH ALL I SHEE!

Do I Know You?

A few weeks ago, I went to pick my sister up from Oxford so she could stay at my place for the weekend. I parked in the alley next to her dorm room and I helped her load her things into my car. As we were getting ready to pull out, I see a familiar looking girl walking in the direction of my car. I soon realize that I had hooked up with this girl during my time at Miami. At this point I am 98% sure it's her and I smile and wave at her. She sees my waving, but doesn't seem to recognize me and gives me a look that you would give to someone trying to make one of those floating lawn chairs. My sister asks if I know this girl. Still not totally sure it's her, I tell Megan "I think I hooked up with that girl." Wanting to validate my findings, I honk my horn, wave, and yell "Hey BLANK!" out the window. The girl looks at me as if I just insulted her and her mother, and walks the opposite direction. Yeah, it was her.

I Can See You Naked

This last weekend for Homecoming I got the chance to catch up with a lot of old friends. We went to more bars then I care to count (or can remember), but on Saturday afternoon, Kyle, Paul, myself and a few of our friends were sitting around a sports bar, doing rounds of [insert alcohol here]. At one point this beautiful, blond girl comes up and starts talking to one of Kyle's friends. This girl is not only a dime, but is very innocent looking. As I watch her, Kyle leans over to me, whispers in my ear, and says "Get a good look at that girl's face." I do. After a few seconds Kyle asks me to check out his phone, when (ta da!) there is a picture of this girl, naked, on his phone. It seems that at one point in this young lady's college career she had the horrible idea of letting some guy she hooked up with take a picture of her, sans clothes. On his phone. Which he then sent to everyone he knew. And if you have had any interactions with any man ever, you would correctly guess that all that dude's friends sent it to all their friends, resulting in hundreds, perhaps thousands of guys with this sweet, innocent looking girl on their phones naked. So there I was, sitting in a bar in Oxford, talking to a girl, and looking at her naked picture on my friend's phone. It felt like an M.C. Escher painting, except way hotter.

I hoped you liked the stories. I feels good to get back to writing. Now I have to put all this crap to good use and make a script so my friends and I don't have to work at a real job for the rest of our lives.

Don't look forward, look around,

2009-09-30T18:43:00.000-07:00

Do you ever have those nights were you feel like a boring person? You work, you go exercise, you come home, eat some dinner, read a book and go to bed. Day in and day out. Lately I have been having these feelings; that my life has gotten far too predictable. They say familiarity breeds contempt, and I am starting to feel some contempt for my own life.

In an effort to try to shake the doldrums, Kate and I planned a backpacking trip to the Great Smoky Mountains. We had planned out our hike, where we were staying (in the backwoods of course), and all the cool things we would do. Put together hiking a mountain, seeing the stars without the pollution of light from the city, and reading some good books, and there was no way I wouldn't come feel refreshed, centered, and ready for the next few weeks of school. After all, it's not easy keeping your focus with the sheer weight of school.

But by when the weekend came, it brought with it a torrential downpour. When I say it rained buckets for 10 hours, I mean I have never seen water fall from the sky for so long and for so hard. Eventually, cold, dirty, and soked to the bone, Kate and I were forced to hike down the from our site and stay the night in a hotel. We didn't get to climb a mountain or enjoy the quite of the Tennessee hills at night. I didn't get a ton of great pictures of broad green mountains covered in mist. But the trip wasn't a complete disaster. While the hike was a ball-buster, it gave me a chance to clear my head. And even though we didn't get to spend the night away from the city, I did get to fill my lungs to the brim with clean air. Just talking, listening, and being honest with Kate was more then enough to make the time go by. I didn't make it up the mountain, but I had a great time along the trail.

I've thought about this the past couple of days. How the weekend was a nice, cheezey metaphor for my life. I don't have as much fun enjoying the Wednesdays simply because they are not Fridays. It's not that I don't think I appreciate the little things. it's that I don't take advantage of the little things.

So I'm going to try and start taking advantage of the city I live in and the youth that I have. Meet some randos, listen to some average local bands. It'll be good for me. I think I have time to stop and smell the roses.

Maybe even stay for a drink.

Don't let playa hatas get you down.

Summer Dreaming

2009-09-09T20:14:00.000-07:00

Cause After Halloween,
Can we stay together?
I'm losing everyone,
And I come undone.
Nothing lasts forever,
The last summer is done.
Can I find another one?
Find another one.
-Summer Town, Third Eye Blind

The new Third Eye Blind Album is awesome, #1 on itunes last week. You can buy it here.

The sun goes down sooner, the breeze is cooler and the heat is gone from the night. With the passing of Labor Day, comes the unofficial end of Summer. And with that comes the inevitable feeling that cold weather, darkness and cabin fever are soon to follow. A lot of people get seasonal depression, especially living in Ohio, but there is a greater significance to the changing of the seasons for me. When I was a kid, summer wasn't completely about baseball and building forts and riding bikes through the dirt(although they were important). Summer not only represented a time of freedom from school and normal bedtime restrictions, but more freeing way to live. It sounds crazy, but to a certain extent caddying was liberating. You were outside, with your friends, being part of good stories, and enjoying being a teenager. It was when I felt the best, when I felt the warmest inside. I don't want to say that I enjoy life more just because it's pleasant outside, but my personality definitely changes with the weather. I find more hope in the summer, not just for myself, but for others, too. I don't complain about my problems with women when the weather is nice. And I definitely feel more confident when the sun shines. Problems is, there is little I can do to stop the change of seasons. Winter is going to be here eventually wither (no pun intended) I like it or not. So here goes my best attempt at keeping my Sanity of the Summer throughout the year. I hope it works, because I really do love who I am right now.

I know I haven't written for a few weeks. This is mostly because school has started off to a great start. I have felt more in control, and the students have been better. I know myself now much more then last year, and while ironic, a year of very poor teaching has taught me to be confident in myself. But the past few days have reminded me something very important: That while I have put in a lot of work this summer, I am still a second year teacher. I have a lot to learn from this job, and a lot of room to grow as a person. I DO NOT have this down. I am still a student of the game. I forgot this fact this week, which can be devastating in the classroom. Your focus has to be so impervious all the time. You can't let up.

I like to dream. Even now at 23, I still day dream during church and teacher in-services. I think it's good to dream. It gives us something to strive for, something to achieve. And while dreams don't give my life purpose, they do keep me young. They remind me that the world, even after paychecks and workdays and bar tabs, is full of endless possibilities. But there are some dreams we have that aren't meant to come to fruition. My dream of playing second base for the Indians is one of those such dreams. But sometimes these dreams that are not meant to be can hurt us, our relationships, our friends. Instead of focusing on the right thing to do, you focus on how you can make that dream come true, even it if it hurts other people. Which is why it is important that you have someone in your life that is willing to crush your dreams. We all need a friend that is good enough to hurt us to the point of sobriety, someone to tell us that we can't focus on what would make us happy at the expense of the people that we care for. It hurts. But the trade off is that you are well-adjusted, and more importantly, you've done the right thing. So when your dream walks by, smile to yourself, buy another beer, and be happy that you've take the high road. Karma will hit you back.

Thank you, Paul.

Dream on.

Back to School

2009-08-09T18:13:00.000-07:00

Back to school,
Back to school,
To prove to Dad that I'm not a fool.
I got my lunch,
My boots tied tight,
I hope I don't get in a fight.
Oh, Back to school...
-Adam Sandler, Billy Madison

I suppose all of you figured that a post on this topic was coming. With August brings a myriad of Catholic church festivals, football two-a-days, and the kids go back to school. I notice it in the breeze; while the weather is still hot, you can tell that the wind is just a little cooler in the evening. Like summer doesn't want to give up it's hold, but it's slowly losing it's grip.

Going into the summer, I needed a break. I needed to get my mind off of my struggles and my issues. I needed to clear my head, go running, be with my family. Have Mom take care of the laundry for a while. I spent more nights of the week on my balcony writing or just enjoying the fact I didn't HAVE to do anything the next day then I did at the bar. Now if you take the view of being a (very)single guy still in his early twenties, I missed a lot of opportunities for partying hard. And while I still managed to find time to make a poor life decision here and there, clowning until dawn 5 nights a week wasn't what I needed. It's a fine balance you have to strike; taking advantage of being young and taking time for yourself. Road trips, late nights, and day drinking all have their time and place. But the most important experience you have in your life is yourself.

It's really hard to believe exactly how much I have grown in the past year. A few days ago I went back and read some of my old blog posts from around this time and the biggest thing that struck me was how fast my life moved in such a short amount of time. While I don't consider myself the most grown up of people (still love the cereal aisle at Kroger), I can definitely say I've matured more in the past year then anytime since my freshman year of college. Anyone who reads this blog now, and who knew me when I was a senior in high school can attest to this. Contrasting the language alone that I used is pretty extraordinary. I guess in my mind, things are less about me, and more about others. Which I suppose is how it should be.

Which brings me to the up coming school year. I'm excited for it. I've taken a lot of time this summer to prepare for this year. I know it will be easier. I'm ready for the kids and more importantly I am not afraid of them. This will be the year when a student with the attitude that says "I am way tough" walks in my room, I'll be able to smile and think to myself, "Kid, you ain't half of what you think you are". Now, I know that this year isn't going to be all a bowl of cherries. I know the clientele we teach. These are challenging kids who live even more challenging lives. But that's why I'm proud to work at Princeton. It's not an easy job, but the trade off is you make a difference. But what really is going to make this year special is my mentality: that school is not about me getting up in front of the kids and talking. It's not about the kids doing work to pass a standardized test. It's not even about having the kids experience the science that they are to learn. What is really going to get you up in the morning and through the day and sleep at night, is knowing that you are there to help these kids grow and make them better people. Once you set your eyes on that, everything becomes easier. The planning, the ideas for lessons, even the choices you make as a teacher, all become clear.

I've had a bizarre feeling the past few weeks. Like college was starting again, and the same sensations came back. It's like the air tasted like I was going back to school. I didn't have this feeling last year at this time. Maybe because I tried changing cities, finding a place to live, and starting a new job all in the same two weeks. But I'd like to think it's because I have settled down. Got back to being the Chris Anderson that I new I could be. For now, maybe I know where I belong. For now.

Shouts out to Coey, Charlotte, Kyle, and T-Bizzle for carting my ass around this week.

p.s. Co-Nats is coming next weeked!

Dropping Names and Beats

2009-08-04T19:35:00.000-07:00

Good Evening kids,

I'm trying to mentally prepare myself for school this week, about which I'll be writing soon.

I came to the realization last night that "Sweet Caroline" is the greatest ice breaker for white people. It will never every fail. If you want to turn a lame bar into a party, play Niel Diamond on the Juke Box. Everyone knows the words and it gives us a chance to scream and stop our feet. More importantly, it gives us a chance to prove to one another that contrary to conventional wisdom, we have a sense of rhythm. Now understand that singing "Bum, Bum, Bum!" doesnt constitute a rhythm. But give white people a break. We've been couped up in the suburbs so long, we can't hold a beat for more the three counts. Give us a couple more years of recession. We'll be beat-boxing in no time.

Tonight I really wanted to give a shout to Jay Bezz. Jay's new album is out and available on both iTunes and Amazon. He's got a great sound and he will going on an Asian tour soon to promote his music. My favorite track happens to be "Drop the Beat". Please support an emerging artist and friend. Don't be freaked out by his make up. It worked for Bowie. Just listen to the music.

http://jaybezz.com/

That's all for now, have a great week everyone!

Three Sheets to the Windy City

2009-07-27T19:15:00.000-07:00

If there is one thing that I love in this world, it's a roadtrip. So many people can't stand being in the car and I can understand that sitting around for hours on end does seem mundane and can be uncomfortable. For me, it's a great chance to see the country. It's one of the things that is unequivocally American, traveling across rural byways and through gleaming cities. There's just something great about driving and actually seeing those amber waves of grain that I have heard everyone talk about.

Chicago was a fun weekend to say the least. I got to see Paul which is always great. I also got a chance to see some old college friends and spend time with my cousin. While life is in constant flux, and the people and places you love never can stay the same forever, it's nice to come back to some of those people and places and enjoy them for a moment. Even if it only for a beer.

For the past year or so, I have been wondering if there was an adult version of college. Some vicinity where there was a high population of people my age. Well I have found this place, and it's called Chicago. Everywhere I looked, there were tons and tons of young people. It was as if Miami University graduated, got a job and an apartment with some Ikea furniture, and started working out. It's like the party never stopped, just instead of studying, you go to work and collect a paycheck. The only real difference is that now you don't feel like you just halved your net worth when you find a receipt for an $96 bar tab the next morning. Now granted the guys can be kinda fratty, but at least the girls still look like they are part of sororities. It remains to be seen if they still act like it (there's little opportunity for a girl to reject you when you are with family members).

But what really makes that city interesting is common philosophy that Chicagoans have: Go all out. Aside from the numerous bars and night spots, Chicago might be home to one of the greatest inventions of man kind other then duct tape and Velcro shoes: The deep dish stuffed pizza from Giordano's. They take advantage of a great music scene filled with blues, hip hop, alternative, and indie. And you will be hard pressed to find a better sports town or a more loyal fan base, although Cubs fans can be insufferable (just don't turn into the Red Sox). Between the street fests, out door concerts, baseball games, and museums, there seems like if you sleep more then 5 hours a night, you aren't taking full advantage of the city. Every venue is packed with people enjoying themselves. I don't how it happened, but if you are looking for work hard, play hard personified, look no further then Cook County, Illinois.

If you do make to there, hit up Nookie's for breakfest. Dynamite.

Bill Simmons wrote a great piece today about one of my favorite movies of all time, Almost Famous. He asserts that is the definitive movie of this decade, but what's really cool is that he applies his 25 favorite quotes to the NBA offseason. Check it out.

Song of the Moment "Fool in the Rain" by Led Zeppelin

Big shout outs this week to Pike and Jamie. Thanks for letting me and my red headed comrade crash at your respective places.

You can't see it, but I just winked at you.

That's all this week. Love, Peace, and Soul

Update

2009-07-20T09:11:00.000-07:00

This week's entry is going to be pretty short. I've been fairly busy lately with things for school and the like. But I can give you some updates on some cool things that are going on in my life.

If you don't know by now, Paul and I have started writing our script. We've got the first scene done and we are working on getting the second one together as we speak.

This weekend Paul and I will be visiting Chicago. Pictures will be up next week, as I'm sure we'll both do something stupid enough for me to write about.

School starts in less then one month, and I have been spending most of my time getting organized with all of my labs, tests, and quizes for the year. I'm not saying this to show off, I just want be to a little more clear on why I haven't posted in so long.

That's about all for now. If you have a good story about something embarrassing you did when you were in high school concerning a member of the opposite sex let me know. Keep it PG, I just need some ideas for the script.

Check you guys later.

p.s. Fishback wanted me to address what it means to be a good Christian. After hours of careful consideration I have decided that being a follower of Jesus can be simplified into one phrase: don't be a dick.

Mass(ive) Hangover

2009-06-28T19:52:00.000-07:00

This morning I saw "The Hangover" with Kyle, Klinker, and Pooch. If you haven't seen it yet, I recommend it. Zach Galifianakis makes the film and Ed Helm's singing on piano is an absolute riot. I couldn't help but get the feeling of deja vu throughout the movie. It seemed like so many mornings in college when my friends and I tried to piece together the previous night.

However one thing that was definitely not realistic in the movie was how functional the characters were the morning after. I don't know about anyone else,but when I am hungover, my entire day is shot. Even if your headache goes away after a few hours, you don't feel like doing anything. A graph has been provided below that correlates how much you get done that day vs. how hungover you are.

On thing that Paul and I did try to get done no matter how hungover we were, was make it to Mass. Now religious semantics as side, one thing about Catholics is that they are fearlessly loyal to their traditions. Not matter how inconvenient the mass times, or how boring the priest is, or how hungover we are, Catholics are drawn to mass like moths to a gas lantern. I don't know if it's the years of guilt that have been kneaded into our psyche, or if it's something they put in the wine (hair of the dog), but we will fight through any amount of physical impediments to get to Mass. And after 4 years of being part of this pilgrimage in college and now in the real world, I can say there is a correlation between what mass time that one attends and how much they drank the previous night.

7:30 AM
This might be the most polarized of all masses. You have two basic groups who attend this service; those who have not consumed drinks in years and those who are ragging alcoholics. On one hand you have those whose sobrietity would impress even St. Teresa the Butterface. Many of these people are elderly ladies, who after 7+ decades of suppressed urges and guilt, church has become as much a social gathering as it is a religious ritual. This is not to say this mass is devoid of young faces. I have see young people here before, mostly Asians, who after a tough night at the library studying until the wee hours of the night (11:30), could certainly use a break in the monotony (did I really just write that?). These poor souls don't usually frequent the bars out of fear of retribution from their parents lest they receive an A in their Biochemistry class. Our second group at this mass is the opposite, people who are so good at drinking, they have perfected the weekly sojourn to church completely smashed. They are hard to spot, as they have adapted to life by constantly hiding the fact they are three sheets to the wind, however they are much easier to smell. Men usually have a distinct musk of Brute cologne, probably from the early 1970's and women smell like a cross between baby powder and warm gin. There's also a few partiers how have stumbled their way from whatever shit they have gotten themselves into the previous night, many of which are freshly out of jail. On occasion, you may find someone who has made a pew their temporary residence.

9:30 AM
This mass is a bit more lively. Most of the people at this mass have had between 1 and 3 drinks the night before. You can see a couple people you might recognize from the bar; maybe their girlfriend was in town and they just had a quite night at home. You also see a lot of families. This group is fairly clean, the parents might have had a glass of wine with some friends at dinner. Occasionally you can pick out a couple jackass teenagers who got drunk on Mad Dog 20/20 and Natty. Their parents have mercilessly dragged them to church because nothing hurts a hangover like a pipe organ, kneeling and light through stained glass. These parents have a self satisfied look on their face, knowing full well what they are inflicting on their children, perhaps thinking back to their own adolescence. They are proud of themselves, as well they should be, because this will not be a day their teen will soon forget...at least until next Saturday...which by considering they have the retention of a retarded dog is fairly impressive.

11:30 AM
I call this mass "the mixer". You have a much younger crowd compared to the previous two masses and most of these people had a fairly decent night. And while headaches and dehydration may be ailing most of the clientele, many have been nourished by a late night trip to Wendy's and Mickey D's. Guys are usually wearing what they had on the night before, plus or minus a shirt. However, it's the ladies attire which is most telling about this mass. The girls are usually in dress or skirts, looking very nice and classy. But the fact that they have put on a new outfit points out what is at the essence of this mass: people are looking to screw. Believe it or not all the guilt and suppressed temptations that the Catholic faith is so good at ingraining into the lives of it's members is actually it's greatest gift to young people. Nothing acts like an aphrodisiac like Catholic guilt. You can tell that the girls are checking out everyone from high school seniors to dashing older men. Point is the kids are DTF. I've seen more potential hook ups at church then I have ever at the bar. And because all of these people social enough to get out on the weekends, they usually run into each other when they are inebriated enough to let the shame take hold. And because men are men, well, we just role with what God has intended.

9:00 PM
This service is what I call "last call". These poor souls have spent their day so hungover that they could barely walk the next morning. Most of their day has been spent replenishing lost fluids and trying to piece together what was surely an evening that was fragmented at best. Even watching football is an arduous task. The most any of these people have done is make a trek to the local Bob Evans to receive man's greatest hangover cure, The Farmer's Breakfast. Many are sporting injuries, which by now, have seen proper medical care. There is a general understanding of the people who are at this mass, a commradarie like no other. That they have fucked up their day beyond any hope of getting something done. That the night ahead is going to be long and full of work. They pray for strength so they they may finish term papers or sales reports or lesson plans before the next day. They also beg for forgiveness. For only God knows who sort of idiocy transpired the night before.

You may be asking which mass I myself attend. I'll let you guess that one on your own, but let's just say I'd rather laugh with the sinners, then die with the saints.

Also I have solved the mystery of The Most Interesting Man in the World.

Thoughts of Home

2009-06-17T18:06:00.000-07:00

I think one of the most powerful parts of coming home this summer was experiencing the smallest things that I have seemed to have lost in my move to Cincinnati. I suppose it was due in part to having exceedingly less free time than I have had in years past. That was the most enjoyable part of coming home: slowing down. I don't think we as people give ourselves a chance to breathe these days. We run everywhere and try to be in 3 places at once. We never give ourselves a chance to just...be. But aside from making time to relax, going home makes you acknowledge the details of life that you would otherwise miss. I got a chance to revisit a couple of my favorite on my trip home.

One of my favorite memories of summers as a teenager was that I would get up and eat my breakfast in the backyard. I get some of our lawn furniture and set it up underneath the apple tree. I'd then grab some cereal, spill half the milk on the carpet walking outside, and just sit and relax in the morning before I'd go and caddy. Not many people have a backyard like my parents do, and I was spoiled by it. I didn't have to go a park or out to the country to really enjoy the beauty of nature. I had it right there at breakfast. The sun was shinning and the world was green. But for me, even more significant then the imagery was the sound.

Our neighbors have a cottonwood tree in their backyard. If you don't know what a cottonwood tree looks like, they are very tall trees with leaves that seem barely attached to the branches. And because the leaves aren't densely populated on the trees which they inhabit, they make the best noise when even the smallest breeze blows through. I don't know if you have ever heard it, or even listened to it closely, but my that is by far my favorite sound in the world. Wind through the trees...amazing.

I didn't miss home very often during the year. But when I did miss it, it was in the mornings, when I would hear the breeze go by as I got ready for school. I'd think of that perfect little scene in the morning and I would get the smallest of homesickness. But that's life. Time marches on. Thank God that it does. And I am very grateful that I have marched on myself. Times are tough and too many good people are without jobs. Young, talented people. Keep those kids in your thoughts as you go to work and complain about your job being the way it is. I couldn't imagine have the feeling I had last summer for 6 or 12 months. You guys will get good jobs and better careers. Remember that.

Next post will be happier I promise.

Losing a Whole Year

2009-06-05T09:29:00.000-07:00

Greetings from beautiful Cleveland, Ohio! I may have written about this before, but I love this city. I've been all around the world, but for some reason Cleveland is my favorite city. Something about it is home to me, more than any place else. I think that all Clevelanders have that feeling, a pride that makes us stand up and defend our city when people make fun of it, that we support our sports teams year after year only to be met at the end of the year with the same familiar unclutchness and misery. It's not easy being from Northeastern Ohio, it comes with a heavy burden of heartbreak. But we for some reason we love it nonetheless. It's like bad drug that never actually gets you high, just gives you a jones worse then crack. What can I say, it's a great city.

I'm at my parents place for the next couple weeks. School is over and I wanted to give myself a breather from that aspect of my life. I wanted a chance to not think about my job or the kids and the only way to effectively do that was to be physically away from everything. More importantly it gives me time to reflect on the school year as a whole. And while I don't think I am quite ready really go into the depths and intricatices of my teaching, I can definatively say that I have learned one of the most important lessons of my life.

This was the year that I learned how to be tough. Tough on my students because I know the greater lesson that it teaches them. You could be nice and give them an extra copy of the homework, or you could be a dick and let them get a zero, not because it teaches them that you are the boss or that they need to keep track of their stuff. It teaches them that life is accountable, that your actions matter, and the choices you make have consequences. More importantly it taught me a mental toughness that I didn't know I had. As difficult as those days were, when I had known I had done my absolute worst, it took a lot to shake it off and get ready for the next day without thinking about what had happened. Each day you teach your first year is draining; the kids take and take and take without giving you anything resembling a break. They take your energy and your emotion and at the end of the day, neither are easily replaced. The best word to describe the days of your first year is taxing. But what my students did give me is the ability to dig deep inside myself for the resolve to get through the next day. You need that moxie, that strength, just to survive. And while I know the literally thousands of mistakes I made, at the end of the year, I was still standing there.

While I've come become enlightend with a new sense of tenacity, it comes a price. I wasn't able to get out and meet new people or take full advantage of what living in Cincinnati has to offer. Aside from the city itself, I am within a easy drive of Louisville, St. Louis, Mamoth Caves, Knoxville, Nashville, West Virginia, Indianapolis, and Chicago. And while I was able to make a couple trips this year, all of them felt rushed because I knew I was digging myself a hole for work. I also feel like I missed out on spring. It's my favorite time of year, flowers are in bloom, the weather finally turns nice, and (maybe most aesthetically pleaseing) it's skirt season. By the time I was able to actually enjoy the weather, school was over. At the same time while I don't wish bad luck on anyone, I think it's good for people to have a difficult year with their jobs. It makes you stronger and gives you clarity on what is important in your life. Nothing prioritizes your values then when you actually have to live by them.

While I might have lost a year to late nights of grading and weekends of lesson planning, I try to think of that I've gained. Not only the experiences and memories of this year, but what I have been able to add to my personality, resources that I never thought I had inside of me. I guess it goes back to the fact that you don't know what you are made of until you push yourself to the limit.

Pictures from the Third Eye Blind Concert are on facebook.

Shouts out to my lovely roomate Katie, Fishback, the Bruenings, Coey, Bert, Blank, Marta, Shana and all those at Princeton who helped me through this year.

Also a shout out to Jordan for another sucessful trip to the zoo. Poisen Dart Frogs...you just don't fuck with them.

Tuesday Night

2009-05-18T18:22:00.000-07:00

I really didn't have a topic in mind for this blog post. I just thought "fuck it", and that I was just going to write and we'll see what comes out.

So I'm sitting here in my bed, relaxing after a fairly successful day at school, listening to "Alright Caroline" by Third Eye Blind. The song talks about children and them growing up and the truth behind parenthood. It's kind of appropriate because I have been thinking a lot about my future lately; where I want to live long term, when I want to get married, what I want to actually do for the rest of my life. As most of you know, I've never been a planner. My life just sort of happens as a comedy of errors, and at some point things seem to work out in my best interests for some reason.

I am caught between two schools of thought. Do I try to plan out my career and life? Make myself goal oriented? There are certainly advantages to this, you have a clear vision in mind and you know exactly what you want to do and where you want to be. And while it doesn't have to be a clean-cut as the life blueprint that Carlton Banks brought to his interview at Princeton University in Fresh Prince of Bel-Air, it's nice to know where you are in relationship to what you want to achieve in life.

What about this flip side? What about the carefree and happenstance policy towards life decisions that I incorporate so well into my Friday and Saturday nights?(exibit A) Can't I just apply that to big choices like where I live and what I do for a job? How great would that be to just roll with whatever opportunity that comes along in front of me. The life possibilities are endless. Roady for Metallica? Sure. Alligator wrangler? Yeah, I did it for a summer. The problem I see with this is that unless you are the type of unique person that can get up and move with out any qualms about being away from people and places you love as well as being close to any large group of people, this life is not possible. If you have the slightest adherence to family members or cities, your nonchalant attitude towards life goals will be counterproductive and you will miss opportunities when they are presented. Instead of living for the moment, you live for the perfect moment, and you don't actually do anything.

I'm still in bed at this point. My laptop is running out of batteries and "Motorcycle Drive-By" is playing now. I'm trying to figure out where I fit in the grand scheme of things. I am clearly not a planner and I am too close to my family and friends to take a career change lightly. I'm stuck in the middle of two philosophies and I'm not sure which one to follow. But as I weigh the two choices, I wonder if I have to make a choice at all. Do I have to pick one philosophy or another? I don't think I'm going to answer this question tonight. It's late. But suppose I don't have to. Maybe the best choices are made individually. Take each pitch as it comes.

3eb concert Friday, bitches.

Shouts out to Kyle, Giorgis, Caroline, Sam, Niel,Doug, Abbie, and everyone else I missed for graduating college. Another shout to my cousin Richard for graduating high school in two weeks.

Back to Reality

2009-04-19T19:28:00.000-07:00

Welcome back! After a fairly stress free flight, I had a couple busy days back at home. Between cleaning, getting ready for the Prohibition Party (pictures are on Katie's facebook), and planning for school, I didn't have time to blog right away.

I can sum up my trip with 4 words: I had a blast. Here are some highlights

-Met a long lost cousin, John and his gay, adopted son Karl
-Got drunk with some Mexican guys at a Giants game
-got drunk at the Delva bar
-Woke up Saturday morning on someone's floor.

It takes a special person to live in San Fransisco. You have to be accepting (if not approving) of a lot of different lifestyles. There are hippies, gays, lesbians, preppies, yuppies, and Hispanics. It's the Baskin Robbins of the U.S., and believe me, they have every flavor. I met a lot of great people out there, and I hope that they know I plan on coming back as soon as I can.

Being out on the West Coast with Paul really brought back some great feelings. I felt a lot more confident. Sometimes in order to move on with life, you have to be away from the people you care about the most. There are some voids in your life that are made by people and are never filled. I don't know how you get on with, but it's one of the more sour points of life.

After having such a good time, I thought a lot about moving out there. The really nice thing about teaching is that if you want to pick up and try a new city or state or even country, you can do it. I'd be in a beautiful part of the country and I'd be with my best friend, but the most alluring prospect of moving to SFO (other then gold), was the feeling I got from being out there. Maybe it was being away from school, or maybe it was because I was somewhere new, but I just felt good. It's hard to describe, but you know when something fits. It's like when you visit a college for the first time, and all of a sudden you fall in love with the place. You can't describe it, it just fits.

As I thought of moving across the country based on a feeling, I couldn't help but think of the things I would leave behind. While being farther from my family would be difficult, I don't see them very often anyways. Instead I thought of school. I said in my last post that I had some very difficult weeks of school before I left. I had a very poor observation by my principal. My instruction was week, the students were terrible, and even worse, I didn't address their issues. I had some tough realities to face after our post-conference. It's a difficult thing to deal with when you feel like you are failing at your job. It's even worse when you know that your jobs matters. If the kids don't learn, there is a real consequence. It's one of the reasons why I wanted to teach; that the job was real.

While part of being real is sometimes knowing that you are not as great as you thought you were, another part is stepping up in the clutch and finding out who you are. I have said before that your first year teaching is a identity crisis. You are figuring out the kind of teacher you are. I have failed at many things in my life. I got a 2.18 my first semester of college, I was told as a C caddie that I had no business on a golf course, and the second time I drove a car in the snow by myself I got into an accident. But it is these failures that have made me who I am. I have been able to dig deep inside myself to find away to improve. I am a firm believe that we as people are a conglomeration of our failures. We are only as good as how we respond to our failures.

I have a lot to learn yet from Princeton High School. It maybe be in one year, it may be in 3 years, but one day I will leave, having become a better then I could have imagined. After all, I am a Man of Means by No Means. Phil Amerine said I was brave for working where I do. I'm not brave that I work at Princeton, I am proud that I work Princeton.

Chicago next weekend, bitches.

Chris in San Fransisco

2009-04-08T09:36:00.000-07:00

"I'd like to welcome everybody to the wild, wild west,
A state that's untouchable like Elliot Ness."

-Dr. Dre

Greatings from sunny California! While I don't intend to rub in the fact that I am in 60 degrees and sunny weather right now, I can't say I am upset that I have missed the snow storm that hit Ohio this week. I've had a boatload of great experiences since being here. The city is beautiful and it seems like every street you turn down has a picture-worthy view of the bay or the city. I'll have more stories to tell when I am able to get all of my pictures on my home computer.

It has been good to get away from school. I love my students, but sometimes the best thing you can do as a teacher is give yourself a breather; look at your problems for what they are and not what you want them to be. I had a rough couple weeks before leaving. A rough observation followed by and even worse postconference with my princepal left me feeling like I had no business in a school. It was one of the worst moments I have ever felt in my short time as an educator. I'm going to talk more about this in next week's blog, because hell, I am still on vacation.

It was also nice to get away from home. Before I had left, I had a dream that I was trapped in Ohio, doomed to never leave again. As terrifing as that dream was (and don't worry Ohio, I still love you) this trip has helped me rediscover a part of myself that I hasn't been around since last summer. The part of me that just likes to get out there and enjoy new things and new places. My mom describes me as a "man of means by no means" and I kind of like that. The universe tends to work out as it should.

Being away from Princeton also gave me a chance to look back on the past school year. I have learned so much in such a short amount of time, not just about teaching or even children, but about myself. I'm going to talk about this more in my next blog post, but it's like I always say, you don't really know how far you can go unless you have taken yourself to the limit. I like my job and I like the fact that it is challenging. I am proud of the fact that not everyone can do it. Not even all teachers can do it. So I am taking spring break to relax, drink some beer (finally) and have a great time with my best friend.

p.s. Yes, Mr. Boyer, California does know how to party.

Those Winter (Moody) Blues

2009-02-16T08:30:00.000-08:00

It's that time of year again. It's the time of year where I start to go crazy.

I noticed it about two weeks ago. It was before we had a spell of warmer weather and it was still about 28 degrees outside. We had just had another couple of snow days, so I had been home and I started to feel a little anxious. The walls of my apartment had inched a little closer, and when my arms started to itch for no reason, I for sure had cabin fever.

Because there was too much snow to run, I thought I'd relieve my tension by listening to a little Third Eye Blind. As you all well know, they are my favorite band. And as with everyone's favorite band, certain songs remind you of certain places and times in your life. "Never let you go" will always remind me of my 8th grade year. "Deep Inside of You" will always remind me of the Fall, my first semester of college, and Sarah. As my iTunes started throwing some of my favorite songs back to my ears, I couldn't help but feel a little nostalgic. I remembered the different places and people that have been involved in my life. Everything from grade school at St. Judes to caddying. But the place I missed most of all was living at the Evans House with Paul. Even though it has been almost a year since I have moved out, I still miss the life. I thought about everything; Enrichment week, Skippers, movies with Kyle at 2 in the morning, rec league basketball, house meetings, the toll of the Beta Bells in the distance before study session, Boo Radley's House, Lazy Days, and exams. As the musical carolsel turned, "Farther" started play and I missed the spring. Anyone who has been there can tell you there is nothing like spring in Oxford. But as the music played from my computer, and my memories danced acorssed my eye lids like light reflecting off of water, I knew it was only torture. All the memories of people and places and times were just that: memories. There was no going back, no road trip to take, where I could get back to those things that I craved. Maybe I reminenced too long, because there was a real ache in the pit of my stomach. So I did the only thing that I could think of: Call Paul.

Lucky for me, Paul does even less work at his job then I do. I told him what was on my mind. How I thought of all the great parts of my life, and how quickly that had vanished. We talked about how true it is that you never really appriecate a part of your life until you've left it. Though Paul agreed that all of the memories that we had shared were awesome, I could sense the fact that my remorse of the past wasn't like his. He had moved on better then I had. It didn't surprise me, Paul has been able to take giant steps in his life. He moved to San Fransisco with the ease of a passing fart. So I asked him, if he misses these things as much as I do, how does he get through the momments like this? Surely we all have weaker momments? I could tell he was smiling on the phone and he enparted on me a great piece of wisdom: Look at our parents. Just when we think that all our best days are behind us, look at our familes and see the happiness and good that they have created, not just for themselves, but others. Things don't get worse, they just get different, and my mom and my dad are proof of that.

When we look back on our lives, it's easy to see all of the good times and ignored the bad. Our talk reminded me that there were times where life was downright shitty at college. And that getting up at 6:30 on a Saturday morning to Caddy wasn't as easy as we remember (espeically after a hard night of drinking). Next time you feel like you wish you were younger, look at your role models.

I finished the Harry Potter series this morning and it was badass.

Shout out to Holly in this blog. Everyone keep her in your prayers so that one day she can get her ass back to doing what she does best: making cakes.

p.s. I think we have an idea...

Something cool.

2009-02-01T14:35:00.000-08:00

My sister made a word cloud out of my last blog. It takes all of the words that are used and arranges them with the most frequent ones being the biggest. Considering the subject of my last entry, I thought it was prudent to post it. It doesn't happen often, but sometimes life has a great way of showing you your own reflection.


Sometimes you just have to stop and smile at it all. Life's good.




 If you can't see it click here.

My Hit and Run

2009-01-25T17:56:00.000-08:00

I can't turn back
I make contact
Blinkers smash into mosaic
Then I start flying

Always think we get more time
Now flying through the air
Maybe living maybe dying
In this motor crash it's you who comes to mind
Don't we always wish had more time

My Hit and Run-Third Eye Blind

This being my first post after my car wreck, I really don't know how to start things off. Maybe it's writer's block or residual effects of a untreated concussion, but it's tough to begin cataloging your thoughts after such an experience.

I'm not going to tell the story of the crash because the incident itself isn't that special. I walked away more or less without a scratch, with my biggest bruise to my wallet. I didn't have any flashbacks or moments of clairvoyance. My only thoughts before I slammed into the barrier was "My car is fucked and this is going to hurt". I honestly don't even think the pictures of my totaled cavie where that impressive.

The real issue is what are the after effects? Where do I go from here? Is my life so boring that almost killing myself on the highway didn't warrant a deep and exhaustive existential look at my life? It might be cliche, but aren't I supposed to have a new lease on life (and a new car)?

Lucky for me I didn't have to worry about this nonsense. Instead I got affirmation that my life might not be one of those "float through life like a lump of cramp" kind of existence.

It started that night of the crash. I was laying in bed thinking how I was going to take care of all the bullshit that surrounds buying a car, when suddenly I sit up straight in my bed with one thought in my mind: I SHOULD HAVE DIED. If a semi was in the right lane, I would be dead. If there was no concrete barrier, I would have slid into the other lane crashed into on coming traffic. I could have killed myself and dozens of other people. And while part of me thanks God for allowing me to be a lucky son of a bitch, the other part of me is thinking of the alternative. What if I did die? What if I wasn't so fortunate that traffic was light that day? Would I be satisfied with my life?

As I sat there in bed assessing how my life has played out thus far, I couldn't help but be satisfied. I work hard, I love my family, I try to do what is right, and probably most significant, I take advantage of life. I don't squander it by playing video games all the time. I don't drink my life away alone in a bar (I do it with Paul, we use the buddy system). I volunteer. I meet new people. I travel to new places. I think to myself "hey...not too bad". Have I lived my life the way I've intended? Maybe I do suck the juice out of life. Maybe...just maybe...I am using my greatest gift and talent of all: my life. I really feel like I have accomplished something. But in the same breath, I look back now and see all the things I haven't done or seen. Bottomline is this: I can't rest. I can't take things easy now that I know that I haven't been a waste. There is way too many things I haven't seen that need viewing and there are way too many people out there that I haven't met and there are way too many things haven't done that most definately need doing.

The fact is everyone is an inch away. Death, catastrophy, your end could be right around the corner. Take it from someone who has been there, it's way to easy for something unexpected to happen. Go on the assumption that you will die tomorrow. You'll get more out of your day, and if you do have a close call, you'll cope with a lot easier.

p.s. Big shout out the Houk's for picking my dumbass up at the police station and driving me to Oxford. Thanks family #2!

p.p.s. Another shout out to Mike and Jen for letting me crash at their place Sunday night.

New Year's Evolution

2009-01-04T18:07:00.000-08:00

Let me start out tonight's blog by saying how much I love the show Scrubs. Call me crazy, but I think it's one of the only shows on TV that can teach you about life. There have been days which I have really questioned myself, and I happen to catch an episode, and somehow I feel better.

I get to go back to school tomorrow. I use the phrase "get to" because I really am excited. Having two weeks off gave me a chance to really look at how I teach my students. Sometimes I think it's really therapeutic to look back on your past mistakes and remember what you have learned from them. I've made a ton of mistakes in the past few months. The biggest of which was not mentally preparing myself for the gravity of my job. Part of me was still on the post-college trip, where life was meant for fun, Wednesdays were made for dollar draft beers, and your class obligations weren't ever really that serious because, hey, you were a senior. A good amount of that was my fault. I never really took the time to come to grips with being employed and what that actually meant. I had spent so much time and energy trying to find a job, that when one actually came, I wasn't ready for it.

Bigger part of it was that I was still trying to figure out what Chris Anderson meant to the real world. I had taken the last 4 years to define myself as college student, and now all the customs, traditions, and rules that I had learned to live by had disappeared. I always say that hardest part of being a first year teacher is that you are in an identity crisis. You are figuring out how you are going to function best, all while trying to grade, design lessons, and manage a classroom. Now I'm not saying this to get any sympathy from my friends of other professions, but the learning curve is steep. But the problem is trying to acclimate your self to your new surroundings. I had put myself in an even bigger hole by being lost in my own self indulgence.

The real issue is that your students, are begging you to teach them. They scream it. They yell for it. Not in ways that you and I would demand things, but they do. Sometimes it's crying in the hallway by themselves. Other times it's yelling at you for bothering them while they are texting. Or when a student who is normally the class clown, comes in quietly, their eyes to the ground, and just sits all bell. Everyday they shout and kick and pout for your to teach them, and help them get out of whatever mess they are in.

Here is the reality: You cannot become a good teacher to your students unless you know who you are as a person. We can't get to where we are going until we know who we are. I want to be a good teacher, and now I am starting to figure out who I am in the real world.

So who is Chris Anderson? We'll for one I am a lot quieter then I was in high school and even in college. Paul has a great saying: Don't go to a party, let the party come to you. I try to listen more then I talk (I don't always succeed). But I try to live my life by trying doing the right thing and taking it easy. Think back on your life and you'll realize that the people who were cool without even trying are the ones you remember.

I don't like New Year's resolutions. It's like saying you are going to try to change yourself for the next year. Plus it's lame things like "lose weight" or "give to the poor", things people don't usually live up to anyways. If you are going to change something in your life, don't wait for a sound bite. My goal right now is to take life slower. The past couple months went way to fast. I can't have that. It's simple, but it speaks in layers.

Bears rule.

Things to be thankful for.

2008-11-28T21:51:00.000-08:00

Go ahead and say it. I already know that I am lame for not posting in a while. But I'll be honest, the disillusionment stage of teaching makes it tough to sit around and write. But after a few days at home I realize that the biggest thing I have to be thankful for is my family. Not just for their support and love. But perhaps more importantly, they have provided me with enough comic material to last a life time.

Let's take a look at how yesterday transpired.

4:30 pm My cousin Shelly, her 6 year old daughter Alana, and her baby daddy David show up to my house. They bring fruit salad.

4:45 My Uncle Tim gets to the house. He brings some pop and is sporting a shirt that I am convinced he purchased at the local Salvation Army. But he has cut his ponytail, and looks decidedly classy compared to previous family events.

4:50 Uncle Jeff pulls in and there are some things that I notice to be striking. The first is that he is on time. This literally the first time I can ever remember that he was on time for ANY family event. Once he was late to his own son's birthday party. However it was at his girlfriend's house, so not as obvious as one might think. I see that he is also alone. Other then his two children that live with him, every get together we have had he has brought at least 2 kids from the neighborhood that are not related to him my any blood or legal way. I don't know if he invites them, or if they are just playing around his car when he is leaving and sneak in. The funny thing is, it's never the same child twice. Trailer parks. Why the fuck not?

4:52 Jeff walks into the house and I see that he has brought a 12 pack of Natty Light to share in the bounty. I also see that the case has been duct taped together meaning two things: This offering is clearly leftovers and there is less then 12 cans of beer inside. I text Paul this and he is extremely pleased.

5:00 My Aunt Linda, Uncle Leigh, and Grandmother show up. Nothing to funny to report about this except for the fact my Aunt has for forgetten my sister's name. While I don't say anything now, I save this fact for later as I am sure that it will help in tourting my sister in the not to distant future.

5:05 My neighbor Tom walks in to say hi. Tom is funny guy and we start talking about the food (he is a fantastic cook). After a few minutes of visiting, he comes back into the kitchen and askes me if Shelly's baby daddy, David is retarded. I said no, but I couldn't be sure.

5:15 Dinner is delicous. I made legit cranberry sauce and it rocks. I can't believe how awesome I am at this point.

6:00 Dinner is over and my mom and aunt are cleaning the dishes (can I get an amen on that one?). I ask 6 year old Alana if she wants to color. We start coloring and I am impressed with her purple, blue, and brown dog. My rendition of Cowboy Snoopy is much better. Soon David comes down and starts talking. I start to notice that the way he talks is peculiar. He talks really fast when he got excited and I couldn't really make out with he was attempting to articulate. I smile and nod. I get a feeling like I am talking to Manny Rameriez. Tom's comment from eariler in the evening starts to creep into my head. I've never spendt a lot of time with David or talked to him in depth, but after 10 minutes of listening to him I know one thing: This guy is plain retarded. I think back to the episode of "It's Always Sunny in Philidelphia" were Dee thinks she is dating a retarded man. I back off from my original deduction and give this guy a chance.

6:15 David is retarded.

6:30 Dessert is served and Alana and I grab some cheesecake. She's cool and smarter then her father. We go downstairs and watch some football with my Dad. David trys to get her to rent me her daughter, to which I polietly decline. However my Dad seems all for it. He recruits her to tend his garden for him on a contract of sleeping on the couch and cases of Dr. Pepper. I see this as a poor bargin.

7:00 Uncle Jeff passes out the instructions for the family Christmas exchange. I have my cousin Shelly, which I would normally think is a difficult assignment. My Dad get's my cousin Spencer's girlfriend, whom he has not met. In fact no one in the family is met her. I wonder what she has done that warrents a gift without having the decency to meet us at Thanksgiving. I think to myself that it's going to be pretty hard for my Dad to get this girl who he has never laid eyes on an Christmas gift. But after a while I realize that he has a knack for really getting people things that describe them. 2 years ago he got my Uncle Jeff a gift card to foot locker. Jeff has one leg.

Yeah, this is more or less my Dad's side of the family. But we love each other, right? Isn't that what's thanksgiving is about? Enjoying food and company with the people that you love? It doesn't have to be about sweeping your dirty secrets under the rugs. Air them out there. Grandma will love you if you are a moron or not.

A dream, a promise, a man, a nation.

2008-11-06T15:35:00.000-08:00

"Kathy," I said as we boarded a Greyhound in Pittsburgh
"Michigan seems like a dream to me now"
It took me four days to hitchhike from Saginaw
I've gone to look for America.
-"America" Simon and Garfunkle

As I watched the TV Tuesday night, there one thing that ran through my mind.

Speechless.

It's not that I didn't think it would ever happen, but that I was so over come with emotion that it had, I simply couldn't say anything.

My mom told me to start writing about lighter subjects, and that I should inject more humor into my blog. While I agree with her, I feel that due the events that have unfolded in the past 2 days, it is altogether necessary and proper that I do this.

Many years before my ancestors left Ireland, a few men had gathered together in a hot, crowded room and had an idea: that there should be a place where people of all types can live and march toward their own individual means of fulfillment. A place where it didn't matter who you knew or where you came from. That whatever you amounted to in life was based solely on your ability. A place called America. Like kids today dream of becoming baseball players, so the founders of our nation dreamed of an America where fortune favors not the wealthy or strong, but the honest and hardworking. At the time, this plan seemed almost impossible to achieve, but these men dared still to actualize their aspirations. They did this because of a compulsive reaction to a human need that has been sought after since man first awoke: freedom. This was the dream; and perhaps it was too magical for the rest of the world because no one believed it could happen. Not until the greatest upset in the history of the world took place, had America become a nation. Perfect? No, and the dream had been tarnished with the stain and stench of slavery and bigotry. But the promise remained. That while the union was not perfect, we as a people would march ever closer. It took eighty years and civil war to free the slaves, and while the imprisonment subsided, the hatred still festered in the minds of those would were too proud to admit that there existed people who were different and equal among them. Blacks were lynched for talking to white women. Chinese were forced into labor camps to build railroads for great corporations. Irishmen struggled to find work for their families after escaping their native land from the same oppression that stirred our founding fathers to deviate from an Empire. We waited longer, with generations of families pinned against tyranny. While we were still the Land of Opportunity, in recent years the door has been closed so that only a sliver shown through. It was open to those privileged few who had the resources and connections to pursue a higher education. It had gotten to the point where the place you were born determined how you lived and the quality of education you received.

Until a man came from the heartland of America who had new voice. It said that we did not have to accept the belligerence of the status quo. That the rich are getting richer and poor are getting poorer and there is something we can do about it. That if we put our best minds and our best hearts to the task to rebuilding this nation and bring it up to what her fathers wanted her to become, that no challenge is too great and no obstacle too big. We can change the way we live and we change the way we govern ourselves to reach and streach towards that more perfect union. And even though there are those among us who would make the same reaches and streaches to divide our people, and keep the Land of Opportunity out of the hands who need it most; they cannot stop a tide of people who have hope on their side. Hope. The hope that those men in that hot, sweaty, musty, fly-ridden room in Philadelphia had when they raised the anchors on their dreams. Their hope that one day the people of America would one day self-actualize their own fate.

I wish you were here to hear the kids yesterday at school shout "I'm proud to be an American!" and "I'm proud to be black!" down the halls. But it's not just blacks, or whites, or Asians, or Hispanics or anyone else who can claim this victory as their own. We can all walk a little taller today, knowing that the paradigm has been forever shifted towards equality. As I look around at the kids in my school, many of them minorities and while I always saw them as my equal, no matter what color they were, today was the first day I felt they were equal.

We will remember that something has happened in America. That we as a people have made our self-fullfilling prophecy. That the freedom of any one citizen is transcendent to all Americans. That the differences of men is not a tool of division, but a celebration of all mankind.

I cried. Not because my candidate won. But because for the first time I was living in an America that I always knew could exist.

A Dream has been realized. A promise has been kept. A man has found the courage to lead this country into its next great chapter, and a nation has changed.

Fun with Graphs

2008-10-19T16:13:00.000-07:00

About 2 weeks ago I had to attend a conference for first year teachers. It was to help us orient ourselves with all the procedural stuff with our license, as well as give us a chance to air grievances about our first couple months. It lasted all day and normally something like that would cause me to stab myself in the thigh with a pen just to keep my nerves stimulated. That, compounded with the fact that I would have to sit next to the creepy biology teacher (more on his crazy ass later) would have made for a pretty awful day. Lucky for me I was late and brought the comics section from the newspaper.

As we talked about ways that we can cope with the struggles of our first year, they showed us a graph that showed the ups and downs that many teachers go through. It looked a little like this:

This graph looked familiar to me. I had seen it before during out meetings for student teaching. But the graph itself stuck me as though it could be applied to something else...

Then it hit me. This graph shows exactly the chances of any one particular guy at getting laid in a bar.

Allow me to explain.

Anticipation
The night is young and full of possibilities. You've just taken a shower, applied some of your favorite musk, and have donned that shirt that your mom says makes you look nice. Hell, you might even have on a new pair of underwear. Point is, you are ready get out there and meet some ladies. So you and your friends saunter up to your favorite bar to enjoy the first brew of the evening and watch the rest of the football game. Things are good and you are relaxed. But at the same time you are on the look out for who is or is not at the bar. It's early, but you are excited at the slim possibility that some one might touch you. The world is your tomato and you are ready to go.

Survival
The football game ends and you start to get a little board. You are on your third or fourth beer now and you are looking for someone cute to talk to. But as you look around the room, you notice something very disheartening: You are in the middle of a sausage fest. You've forgotten the basic fact of the female gender and that they do not leave their house until they have enough liquor in the their blood to power a Formula One racer. So this leaves you with 3 types of people at the bar. The first is your buddy's girlfriend, and since you know the 4th man commandment (bros before hoes), you steer clear. The second is the most intriguing, because it's that girl who's cute, fun, and doesn't give you a headache to talk to. The problem is there is only about 2 or 3 of these girls in the bar at most. Plus these are girls you would want to date, not clumsily unbutton their shirt. But the real problem is those 2 or 3 girls are going to be the target of everyone in the third group of people: Dudes. It's natural selection at it's finest. Only the coolest, best looking guys are able to carry about them the swagger it takes to approach these ladies. I don't think Darwin himself would have liked this kind of stiff competition. So you awkwardly try to start a conversation with a someone. But because all you have thought about up to this point is getting into someone's pants, you feel and act like a fourth grader with a boner. Conflicted, perplexed, and sweaty palms. You return, defeated, to your beer and your friends.

Disillusionment
By this time it's close to ten. Things haven't gone as you planned and you are starting to feel like crap. You look at every guy in the bar and all you see are douche bags. The only thing that is keeping you from going home is your buzz. The next football game is on and it's a blowout. You open a tab. Beers compound. You feel about as equipped as a Ken doll while all the other guys in the bar seem to be "getting their game on" in the traditional sense. Thoughts of becoming a monk or joining the peace corps slowly start to creep into your head. The only solace you can find is that none of your friends seem to be having any luck either. Together in your misery, you drink, hoping that one day you'll be old enough that no one will notice when you get a hooker.

Rejuvenation
Shots? Because you and your buddies are such good guys you decide to all buy each other shots. After a couple of stops on the shot train you are feeling better (for those of you keeping tack at home this probably brings the drink total to somewhere in the double digits). Then something wonderful happens...the drunk chicks arrive! Complete with party dresses and vodka infused breath, packs of girls arrive 8 or 10 deep. There's always a birthday part in the mix, and these girls are usually the most inebriated. They are easy to spot because of the loud, shrill screams and the cardboard Burger King crown. Suddenly your chances of getting some has gone up exponentially. There's one slight problem. Those shots you took just hit you square in the nuts. This brings two repercussions. The first is that you are decidedly more sloppy. You begin to have to make frequent trips to the bathroom and one-eyed texting your ex (perhaps telling her to fuck off, perhaps a booty call, personal preference). But the second is much more pertinent to the situation: your standards have lowered considerably. Fat chicks look more voluptuous, and acne gets a little tough to see. Point is, you've gone from attacking the strong and healthy prey, to the weak, old, and possibly diseased. But you don't care because you haven't gotten any in months and you are wondering if you penis even works off of manual anymore. You start talking to the closest one. Perhaps you buy her a mind probe? You want to make sure that who ever you're talking to is at least twice as drunk as you are. Mothers lock in your daughters!

Anticipation
By this time it's close to 2. You've been talking to this moderately attractive girl (or at least she seems like it) for a little while now. You've bought each other drinks, danced to "Talk Dirty to Me", and have gotten to know each other as well as 2 random people can. You see other people in the bar start to pair up and leave. Before you know it the lights are on and the bar owner is kicking your drunk ass out. Now here is where the night becomes truly a interesting because there are two paths one can take. The first is you go home with this girl and you fool around until she pukes/pees on your futon. It's awkward, and not as enjoyable as you originally planned, but you both get your rocks off and in the morning take the Walk of Shame. The second is that you are so drunk you aren't sensible enough to walk this girl back to her place and at least get to cop a feel. Instead you wander off. You probably get distracted by a friend or a shiny object. What's great about this option is though while you didn't achieve your intended goal, you for sure get a great story out of it. Maybe you wandered off and passed out in a woods? Perhaps you broke into a petting zoo? Or maybe you stole a Christmas Tree from a church. All you know is that you wake up the next morning doing the Kidney Shuffle, you have a car freshener hanging around your neck, and your left leg is covered with cuts and scrapes. Either way, the details are hazy, and it takes you and the rest of your friends, who have equally as fragmented memories, the entire morning to piece together the puzzle of the previous night. By your combined efforts you have an idea of what happened the night before. You might not have gotten laid, but you have a great story to tell your children on Dad's Weekend when they are in college.

And before you know it, it's Saturday!

Graduated.

2008-10-06T18:37:00.000-07:00

I was going to write about this subject last week, but after experiencing all that last weekend has to offer, I am glad I postponed until now.

The past two weekends I had the pleasure of visiting beautiful Oxford, Ohio. For those of you who don't know, I spent the last four years of my life there gaining a higher education, and probably more significantly, growing up. Last weekend I trekked up for Cornfest, the annual Evans Scholars binge drinking event. As I drove up there, I kept thinking on how everything was seemed so familiar. It was strange because so much has happened to me in the past 5 months, that I really didn't know what to expect. I knew it would be cool to see Kyle and the rest of the guys, but I also knew it would be different. What I didn't know is how it would be different. I thought it be like when I came back to visit my High School teachers. Feel a little awkward, maybe seen as an outsider, notice the changes in a couple buildings. But it was something else that surprised me all together.

When you go back to visit your college for the first time, it's as if you are in the most real dream of your life. You walk around and the world looks forigen to you, but somehow you know where everything is. But the wierdest thing is that you'll turn around and you'll thing you see someone that you knew. Some that you know graduated and is living and completely different state. Then you'll look again, and they're not there. All that, coupled with the fact that you know that your night is going to end in a drunken stupor with wristbands on your arms, give you an intense sense of reoccurence. You almost say to your self "oh i've had this dream before". That sense of repitition, that premenition that what you are doing is all routine starts to really sink in. It sinks into you like sleep does when you are on the big couch at home. All of a sudden it consumes you.

It's this all encompassing senseation that has given me clear judgement to give my final and unwaivering decision on college: It's done and I don't want to go back.

I always thought the best show I ever saw was the one that was going on right in front of my eyes. I thought this for two reasons. One is that so much nonesense happens to me it's beyond comical, and as my mom says "you can't make this shit up". Characters come in and come out, the plot always twists in a great direction, and I never see it coming. The other reason is that there are no reruns. And life should be like that. No reruns. You shouldn't ever go back to a certain part of your life to try to relive it. And after the last week, I realize that the best thing I could do was go back to Oxford and see that I had moved on. I don't want to go back to college. I all the memories and experiences can't be duplicated or xeroxed. They are perfect the way they are.

Life should always progress. Make yourself a bigger and better person by moving on to some place new, even if it isn't a geographical change. Love the show of your life because you don't ever have to watch reruns.

Remember Jake Washburn

2008-09-24T17:39:00.000-07:00

Writer's Note:To protect the identity of my student, I have left out his or her real name. However, I decided to share this story because I feel it has effected me quite profoundly.

If I could describe the first year of teaching in 2 words it would "boxing match". You have up's, you have downs, and you get punched in the face, but you learn exactly what you are made of. Today was one of those days where I had a roller coaster of feelings. The kids had early release today, which meant that all the class periods were shorted. Consequently, the students are usually a little squirrelly, but other then having to kick the usual knucklehead out, the day went smoothly. To top it off, my General Science class was very well behaved and we got a lot accomplished. At any, rate the end of the day came and after school was filled with meetings and I ended up getting back to my room around 4:30. I decided that I would take the time to make some phone calls home to the students who have been doing poorly. There are quite a few of them, and it's almost always because they don't turn in their work. Most of the time it's close to all of their work. So after a few contacts, I pick up the phone and call Jake Washburn's mom...

I have to give Mrs. Washburn credit. For has bad as the situation could have been, she was extremely understanding. I know many parents would have bitten my head off the first time they got a word from me, I don't know if I would have reacted the way she did. After voicing to her my concern about her son's progress and going over the work that he has missing (about half of everything we have done), I asked her if she had any concerns for me. She told me in the most polite way possible that her son didn't like the way I was teaching. He said had turned in all of his work and that he could tell I was a first year teacher. But the worst was yet to come. First she said that he had gotten streight A's in Science and Math in middle school and has loved it, but is struggling in my class. So I the worst though I figured you could have as a teacher, that you turned off a student to your subject. Then she told me that she had schedualed a meeting with Jake's consulor to see if he could get a schedual change because he didn't think I knew what I was doing.

Ouch.

In the end, the phone call was good progress. Mrs. Washburn is a committed parent that only has a part time job that works with her kids on all of their school work. We talked and agreed that Jake would give me feedback on how I doing and what specifically I can improve on and we would both look for his missing work. The conversation was great, but it left me empty. The drive home, my mind raced to find it's footing, but it couldn't. I had gone the past few years thinking that I was good at this, that teaching was my gift. If I don't have this, what am I good at? And more pertinate, this kid wasn't going to learn anything because of my ineptatude. What can I do? Are all my students like this? How do I fix this problem? Too many questions to count hit my brain like a tidal wave. So I did the only think I new that could shut them all up.

When I got home I ran. I ran and ran and ran. The whole time I kept on saying the mantra over and over in my head "remember Jake Washburn". I drew one conclusion today: the worst thing I could do for myself is forget what happened today and move on with life. This is a day I need to remember for the rest of my teaching career.

Thought of the day: I have never ended up precisely where I intended, but I have always wound up exactly where I've wanted.

Changes in Latitudes, Changes in Attitudes

2008-09-17T18:03:00.000-07:00

"I took off for a weekend last month,
Just to try and recall the whole year.
All of the faces and all of the places,
wonderin' where they all disappeared.
I didn't ponder the question too long;
I was hungry and went out for a bite.
Ran into a chum with a bottle of rum,
and we wound up drinkin' all night."

The Venerable Jimmy Buffet

I was watching some of the election coverage today on TV. I saw an ad that struck me as well...odd. It was a commercial in which Senator McCain and Governor Palin were both standing together, and then a graphic came on the screen that said:

The Original Mavericks

What's funny is that the ad was paid for by the Republican National Committee. So the conclusion I drew was that the Republicans were saying is that their candidates deviate so much from the party's base, that they would make the best President and VP. Why not change their slogan from Original Mavericks to:

McCain/Palin
The don't like anything we say. Vote for um!

Another thing that struck me as odd is how Republicans and Democrats view Governor Palin, both in very different ways. The Republicans look to her as a rugged country woman who stands up for things like no earmark spending and pro-life choices (kinda ironic huh?). Democrats seem to look at her as someone who's last job was being mayor of a city that has less people then Oxford, Ohio. Scary, especially when you consider the fact that she is laying claim to foreign policy experience by being close to Kamchatka (it's an actual providence, not just shitty vodka), which is only useful in the game of Risk. In fact Senator Joe Biden's Delaware Home is actually only 900 miles farther away from Moscow then Jueno.

Democrat Palin

Republican Palin

Paul gets to go to the Delva Bar tonight for happy hour. For those of you unfamilar with it's significance, it is mentioned in the Third Eye Blind song "Wounded". As many of you know I am obessed with the band and when I see Paul, I will promptly smack in the face for having gone there before me.

The past couple days of been a shitstorm followed by boardum. Hurricane (d)Ike moved in Sunday and knocked out power to most of Cincinnati. Our apartment got juice back Tuesday morning, but school has been cancelled all week. While it was nice to get some grading done and get a little bit better organized, sitting around the house all day made me a little stir crazy. Lucky enough, the bars had power.

Have you ever listened to a song and just kind of enjoy it, but then one day, after you have heard that particular song hundreds of times, you really listen to it? I mean really look at all of the lyrics and suddenly realize "wow this song is amazing". I had one of those momments yesterday. Amid the choas, I put on a little Jimmy Buffett and soon the song "Changes in Latitudes, Changes in Attitudes" came on. As the song played, I started to think about all the places I have been to this past summer and it really got me thinking that much of a good decision it was for me to move. I've gotten a little bit of my chillness back in recent days as well as a taste for getting out there and experiencing the world. But the great part about that song is it's basic philosophy. Sometimes you get homesick for people and places that you have known in your life, but the only thing you can do, is smile, fix yourself a drink with a friend old or new, and let the waves take you the rest of the way.

Rock on London.

This post is dedicated to Pat Holland.

A Life of Significance

2008-09-08T18:05:00.000-07:00

Greetings from my new digs in downtown Cincinnati. I apologize to all of you faithful readers out there (all 3 of you) for the lack of updates, but I have spent the past 2 weeks moving into my apartment. But everything is now set up and it is starting to feel like home. It's nice to finally be settled in. A big shout out goes out to the Kyle's parents for putting my sorry ass up for the better part of a month. My own parents were down here last week and it was really great to see them. They brought down all of my stuff and helped me move in, as well as stocked me with food and other apartment necessities. we didn't go out to dinner the night they were here, we stayed in and made food ourselves. It was very nice to sit and just enjoy each other's company. While part of it seemed like "last supper" of sorts, a bigger part of it felt like a first meal, the first step in my being truly on my own. I am glad my parents were there for that, it made it feel much more significant. Much love to them.

Significance is the theme of tonight's post. A Life of Significance that is. On a recent sleepless night, I was pondering on the recent turns my life has taken. I was thinking about what I really wanted to do with my life. And to my surprise, though maybe not yours, I didn't know. Should I teach? Should I jet to Hollywood and write movies? Too many ideas came into my head, but all had one thing in common: they all lead to a Life of Significance. What does this mean? Though I don't presume to be a dictionary, or a master of life for that matter, I am going to define a Life of Significance as I see it in the schema of my mind. A Life of Significance is when you live your life in accordance with the belief that world is bigger then you are, but your efforts, no matter how trivial, have a lasting effect on the people around you and the world at large. It's more then karma and feeling that what goes around comes around. It's about doing the right thing for other people in ways big and small without expecting the comeback. Doing it because you know what makes you feel better at the end of the day is that you made a dent in a very big world.

I read an article in GQ about the tourism scene in Rwanda. It talks about getting out of our comfortable life and really taking a step into a world that you were meant to be in.

"And while it’s true that you may question whether or not you were fully awake before you got here, you will also probably spend an inordinate amount of time trying to lull yourself back to sleep, wherever you can ﬁnd alcohol, because part of you will realize that being awake, really awake—well, it’s just not in your nature. That is, if you’re like me and you hail from the land of the Xbox, and you’ve become accustomed to—even begun to desire—the substitution of the virtual for the real, you probably prefer the dream to the directly experienced. But no matter how stuck you are in your digital simulator, however “experientially avoidant” you may be (as I was recently diagnosed by a cognitive-behavioral therapist), you will not remain immune to this odd sensation of waking up in Rwanda to discover, however disconcertingly at ﬁrst, that not only do you have hair growing out of your arms, but your body also appears to possess these extra dimensions you had not taken into account of late. That you have been going around for some time a mere half-awake version of yourself. Just as you now realize that all along you’ve been eating these things that bear only a half-awake resemblance to a banana. And this is because, in Rwanda, a banana possesses at least seven dimensions, whereas in America, like most everything else, you get two at best."

I think I've decided what I am going to do next summer. I think I am going to go and volunteer in Africa. Anyone want to go?

http://www.worldcampforkids.org/

http://men.style.com/gq/features/full?id=content_7404

Mr. Anderson

2008-08-18T18:45:00.000-07:00

A note about last week's blog: Jordan informed me that I referred to the book selling chain "Barnes and Noble" as "Barns and Noble". What she didn't know is that this particular store was run by a Mr. O. McDonald, and had a variety of livestock, including cows, chickens, pigs and horses for sale. EIEIO motherfuckers.

Today was the day. The day where I became a teacher. Mr. Anderson. My introduction to education teacher Dr. Kopp called it the Glorious Day When You Move to the Other Side of the Desk. While poetic as that may seem, it wasn't as perfect as I had imagined. I've played that scene over and over again in my mind. My first day with students. I can't tell you how many times I was in King Library late at night and snuck off to the bathroom to practice my speech in front of the mirror. It wasn't at all like I had expected but the again most things in life never are. Part of this was due to the clusterfuck of the first day of school, and that all of the activities that we did in class were orientation based and handed down from the administration. But freshman will be freshman and were loud, had an attitude, and like a bad poker face, had a look on them that said "you can't possibly be my teacher". Interestingly enough, I learned today exactly how to deal with these kids: hit them in the mouth; hard and right away. It's funny because I never imagined myself as that kind of teacher. The one who really pounds his students into the ground with difficult work. But it's all about reputation. As a teacher the most important reputation that you can build is one based on honesty and respect. Give them respect by being tough and give them honesty by sticking to your guns. You get your students trained in your routine and they will have something stable to rely on. Sometimes it's the only stability they have.

Which leads me to my next point. Life is never what you expect it to be. There are so many places that I wanted my life to go, and I thank God every day that they didn't go there. I expected to go Elyria Catholic. I expected to go to LCCC after high school. I expected to live at home after college and work at Avon. knowing that some of the best things that have ever happened to me and some of the best people that I have ever met have been because my life took a turn for the worst is fantastic feeling. I guess I'm almost to the point where I pray for disappointment. I pine for ruin. If my life gets this rich from my letdowns, then I am truly a wealthy man. I don't think I will ever go to a palm reader or a fortune teller. Not because I think they are hokie o(they are) or because I don't think that people can't tell the future. I just don't want to know. I don't want to know how it ends. Why read the last chapter of the book? It's been good so far. A friend once told me that life after graduation is nothing like you imagine it to be. Good. I hope nothing in my life is what I plan on it being.

I put this picture on the background on my computer. Education is badass.

Don't Read This Blog, Do It

2008-08-09T18:51:00.000-07:00

Well I've done it. I am officially in Cincinnati. After a night of good friends and good times in my backyard, I left Wednesday morning. On my legal own for the first time. I'll be staying at Kyle's house for the next couple of weeks until my folks can bring my stuff down and I can move into my apartment. I know...last time I cheaply mentioned that I had gotten a place, and it's true, at the end of the month I'll be moving into an apartment near Eden Park with one of my good friends from college. I visited it for the first time Thursday and it is really something. Mad kudos to Katie for picking out the place AND hooking us with a slew of kitchen tools. Bangarang.

I had the house to myself tonight. Kyle was in Disney World for a business conference and his parents were at a high school reunion. So I thought I'd make the most of it by doing nothing and watch Heroes all day. While it seems rather unproductive for someone who had an entire classroom of lab supplies and an curriculum to get together (it is), it was nice to sit down and relax after a summer of running all over the world.

I realized yesterday, I'll be very happy with my job. I had a great day at school, just getting my classroom together. I got a chance to talk to my vice principal and meet the teacher who will be working next to me. My VP's name is Eric and he is an African American who is a least twice my size, but his enthusiasm was awesome. The guy was so pumped to start the school year. He kept saying that he was so excited for the kids to get here. I keep getting this feeling every now and then, that this, at least for right now, is a good decision.

This made me think back to my interview with Avon, my old high school. During my drive home for the interview, I kept having this thought, this premonition in my head. It was like two paths were laid out in front of me. The one is were I led a life I had always dreamed of leading: I moved away from home and I was doing amazing work. I was teaching in Africa, getting my Ph.D, changing the world, helping my thousands of people. The other was one where I returned to my old high school, and while I was a good teacher, the other life was not there. It somehow wasn't possible, like the two could not exist together, and if I took the Avon job, that separate life, that extraordinary life, would be gone. Lucky for me, I didn't get the job.

I told you that story to tell you this story. After dinner, in search of some fresh air and some Chi tea, I drove up to Barns and Noble to sit down and read Harry Potter. Naturally there were no seats outside, and so I walked around and perused the books that were featured. The one that really caught my eye was Post Secret, a book where people had anonymously sent postcards with their deepest secrets to this author, who published them. While some are funny, like the one that said "I go to great measures to make sure I poop in private", there are others can that really disrupt your faith in humanity. Like the one that said "I once wished on a dandelion that my husband would die" or "I wish I could hurt my grandfather for what he has done to me". They were difficult to read because these are people's inner most thoughts and desires. It makes you think to yourself how good people really are. And while it just begins to creep into your mind, you begin to think that movies were good prevails and people make the right choices and are good at their very core is nothing but a bedtime story. Refusing to believe that any of that was true, I looked to the back of the book, to try to find something to reassure myself that humanity wasn't all out for themselves. And sure enough, I was rewarded with stories of love and life. Maybe that's what makes us so evolutionarily different from the other living things around us; that we are able to get past a survival thought of a zero sum game, where your gain is my loss.

However the postcard that struck me the hardest was one that said "Your last mortal thought will be 'Why did I waste my days doing something meaningless, just like today". While that thought in my head, I walked out of Barns and Noble, drove to a small park, watched the sunset over the highway. Do yourselves a favor. Stop reading this blog right now and go do it. Do something extraordinary with your lives. Start today.

I did.

P.S. Want to start small? Try this for a month: everyday tell someone that you love them. Family or friends, it doesn't matter. Start with your mom.

Look Out You Rock and Rollers

2008-08-03T20:30:00.000-07:00

Well ladies and gents here, it is. This will probably be my last blog from my home in Elyria before I move to Cincinnati.

The air has had a very distinct taste lately. While the days are still hot, the breezes have been cooler and there's that feeling in the atmosphere that a big step is about to take place.

Well the big move is one Wednesday I've packed most of my things. In the process I have transformed my entire living room into the Museum of Stuff Chris Owns. As I went through all of my worldly possessions, I came to a startling conclusion: I own way to much crap. I had so much nonsense that I had even saved notes from my high school AP Biology class, a course I didn't even know I took notes in. They had started to decay, or at least that's what I gathered, when I looked at the index cards that had turned into what resembled opaque pieces of plastic. I downsized about two thirds of my stuff. While going through all of my things, I got to visits some old memories. Old pictures and notes from high school evoked thoughts that hadn't been through my mind in years. I came to a second conclusion that day as well: I sucked in high school. No wonder girls didn't want to date me; I was a pasty, out of shape, acne-ridden teenager who thought he was way funnier then he actually was. Now don't get me wrong, I had a good time in high school. But I guess you forget how much college changes you until you look back at how you were in high school.

However all the memories I ran into weren't bad ones. I saw old pictures of me, John, Paul, Joe and Bill. It reminded me how badly we wanted to form a band when we were teenagers and poorly we played our instruments. Once when John and Joe were in the seminary, Paul and I paid them a visit and had what we musicians call a "jam session". The first (and only) song we tried was "Swing Swing" by the then cool All-American Rejects. After about 20 minutes of Joe not being able to keep time on the drums and John singing completely different notes then the ones that were actually in the song, I knew that my dream of being a rockstar was over. But we ended up eat s'mores that night so it wasn't a total loss.

I rifled through more pictures from high school and I found a whole package of photographs from my youth group's mission trip. Every year about 15 kids and chaperons drove down to Carlile, Kentucky and did service work for a week. It wasn't glamorous, but you got to work with some very gracious and very poor Mexican immigrants. I saw old images of me dripping with sweat, playing soccer, side by side with teens from a completely different nation. But one thing that the trip always thought me was that barriers like language and culture are no match for treating people like they are decent human beings. It's humbling, when someone who has risked their life to come to your country to make a decent living so that they can send money back to their families, invite you into their home and make you their guest. I loved those trips, and I suppose that teaching is an extension of that.

In an effort slow down my thoughts and really get prepared for teaching, a few days ago I went outside to just be alone and reflect. Because of this whirlwind of a summer, I have barely had time to sit down and let my brain relax. I know that school is coming soon and it's important that I sort of get myself mentally prepared. And as I thought, I tried to conjure up the lessons I learned during student teaching. There were two in particular that kept coming up. The first was humility. You can't go into teaching expecting that all of your lessons will be genius or that your students will all be on the honor roll because of you. I recently told a friend who is in Teach for America and was struggling that no matter how much you don't like the idea, you will fail. Things will not go well. As a matter of fact they will go terrible. No one has the midas touch when it comes to education and you can't hate yourself for it. But times were you do succeed will far out number the times that you fail if you work hard and learn from your mistakes. It's sounds cliche I know, but it's so significant for one reason: the best feeling in the world for a teacher is seeing someone learn and figure out the world around them because of what you did. Try it sometime.

The second thought that kept resurfacing, was how excited I am to finally start. This really is going to be cool, and it really hasn't hit me until now how much I am going to love my job. As my moving day gets closer and closer, I feel more and more like the kid who graduated college. Who liked to listening to people and who loved to enjoy life. When I drove away from the Evans House that last time, I shouted out my car window "That was an excellent adventure and am ready for the next one!". I am so ready for my next great adventure. I am excited to see the triumphs that await me and I am excited for the disasters just as well. So breathe deep world, because I am coming.

P.S. I have an apartment.

The Red Summer Sun

2008-07-27T23:11:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was one of those perfect summer days. I was lucky enough to be caddying during the afternoon and so I was able to enjoy the real juicy part of it. It was humid and at least 90 degrees, and while most people try to find safe haven in air conditioning, that's the kind of weather I live for. One of my favorite places in the entire world is hole #16 at Elyria Country Club. It's a short par 5 that doglegs to the left as it hugs the black river. The late afternoon sun is still above the trees on the left side. To me it the sun feels closer there then anywhere else in the world, and it burns long and slow like a big red roman candle. The warmth feels good on your skin to where it's almost nourishing and the natural light and heat brings out enough sweat to let you know you are alive without over powering you. Even though I've been a thousand times before, it's special every I experience that. While I am happy to retire from caddying, it's bittersweet to know that some very good scenes in life are coming to an end.

However perhaps the best part of the day was once the sun went down. It was hot enough during the day that the heat dwelled in the air all evening. The sunset itself was spectacular, I don't think that Bob Ross himself could have painted a better picture. By about 8:30, the sun had dipped below the horizon, and while most of the sky was lavender, the western end still enjoyed a brilliant pink glow only to be scarred by highlights of orange cirrus clouds that look like they had been scraped on with a paintbrush. This was ultimate driving weather and I cruised over to Giorgis's house I rolled down the windows and put on "Motorcycle Drive-by" by Third Eye Blind. I just enjoyed the moment and toyed with the air with my hands, knowing that right there, for that particular instant, life was perfect. I don't consider myself a lucky man. But it's times like that when you have to thank the powers that be for the simple fact that you have air in your lungs.

A special shoutout goes to Randy Pausch. You've probably all seen or heard about his "last lecture" (I mean he was on Opera). He said that in life you can't change the cards you have, you can only change how you play them. He had been diagnosed with terminal cancer and past away this week.

Here's to you, Randy.

Get Back to Where You Once Belong

2008-07-25T22:32:00.000-07:00

Remember those black and white billboards with messages from God? I saw one of those the other day. It's said:

I don't know about you, but for me it stuck about a 14,000 on the Ignorant-o-Meter (it only goes up to 6). Because I feel God has a dry sense of humor and because I'm a jackass, I felt that I'd t make a poster of my own to try and better represent what the good Lord would say.

Last night I drove out to Coventry Village and hung out with Jordan and Julie Popcorn. Julie is leaving for med school on Saturday and I thought what the hell, I'll drive out to the East side. It was a fun evening and it was good to catch up with some old friends. It was a nice night and and they had some good tunes playing at Paninis. They even had my theme song playing, Tumbling Dice by the Rolling stones. But I think the best thing about the whole atmosphere was that I felt so much more relaxed then I have in a long time. I wrote a couple weeks ago how my mind was just overrun with so many different thoughts and ideas and feelings. But it seemed like things had quieted down for a couple hours.

Here's another sign that thigns getting back to normal for me. I didn't write about this story, but I had a rather pride-bruising fiasco in Ireland. Long story short, I asked a girl if I could buy her and beer and she said yes, went to change clothes and ran away. Now I could have gone on about how much I think women are repulsed by me or my secret fear of turning to Steve Carell in 40 Year Old Virgin. Instead I am turning this around. I've officially quit feeling bad for myself about the situation. If you dwell on what you don't have, you miss out on all the great things that are going on around you. I had this philosophy at the end of the school year and I don't know why it has eluded me over the summer. But either way, it's good to have it back.

And as Tupac said, that's the way it is.

Homecoming

2008-07-22T20:39:00.000-07:00

"It feel good to hear people singing welcome back
And I ain't even sellin' the track, cause I'm that Harlem cat"

-Mase

Well kids, I'm back from my vacation, and I have to say it feels great. Ireland was beautiful and my sister will be putting pictures up soon, so you'll be able to check out all the cool stuff we saw. It was an interesting trip because being of Irish decent, you have a very peculiar sensation about the place. While I didn't go there with the mentality that it was a homecoming, in ended up feeling like that by the of the trip. As I think about it now, it's crazy to think I visited the land of my ancestors. I guess until you actually go somewhere that you are ethnically from, "the old country" seems like make believe. To walk on the same ground which the people you have descended from have walked for hundreds of years is pretty flipped out. There was always this premonition I had in Ireland. It wasn't deja vu, but it there was a feeling of familiarity. Almost like the land was expecting me. Like I belonged there. Cool, huh?

I did learn a couple things from being in Ireland.

1. Irish girls are the hottest I have ever seen-Jet black hair, fair skin, and the most gorgeous eyes I have ever seen. Way better then Miami girls.
2. Almost no one in Ireland has red hair, it's a Viking trait. So if you see Paul, pillage is shit, his ancestors were dicks.
3. I am ready to move out of the house.

The past couple weeks I have seen myself looking at all the different aspects of my life here at home and how much I am going to miss my family. But after a week with them, I remembered why it's going to be so good for me to get out. Let me set the record straight: I love my family. I love spending time with them and my parents are my heroes. But I think if I had gotten a job at home, I'd be taking a step back in my development as a person. I'd be going back to my old room, and driving the same car I did in high school on the same roads and seeing the same people at church and the grocery store and wherever. The familiarity would be to much. Time to blaze a new trail. Know what I'm sayin' vern?

Life is going to be pretty busy for me the next couple weeks. I have to pack up my entire life, make a curriculum for this year, work and find a place to live. But don't fear because I know I'll find time to blog it up at 2 in the morning. It helps not to sleep. I'll be sharing more stories from vacation, but it's late.

Chris

p.s. I saw Miley Cyrus on Good Morning America today. Does anyone else feel bad for her, or is everyone just excited for the Brittney Spearsesque meltdown?

Let it marinate

2008-07-10T19:00:00.000-07:00

I know, I know...yesterday's post was a little bouji. But I had to give myself a day for everything to set in, because I'll be honest, I was incredibly overwhelmed. So I had to take a page out of Paul's (cook)book and let it marinate.

They say if you want to make God laugh, make plans. I think that might be true, but if you wanted to make God feel like an asshole, find a use for the platypus. I think God has a sense of humor and he's got to be laughing at me. Paul once told me about how he got a text from a girl who had just moved to a new city, didn't know anyone, and was horny as all get out. I empathize with her, because I know that feeling...just on a planetary scale. I'm starting to think that I am losing some prime sex years. I am 22 and I feel like I am doing myself a disservice. They said in 5th grade if you don't use it, you lose it. By they I mean Hagerty and I know for a fact that he has lost no less then 5 vital organs due to lack of or miss use. So at least I got that going for me.

This man was going to become a priest.

Yesterday was a very intense day. I drove down to Cincinnati to officially become a teacher of Princeton High School. Signing the contract was a lot in itself. With the health insurance, sick day policies and school calender, I was given about a kilo of paperwork to fill out. Seeing my classroom was a bug out too because it was at that moment I realized that I was a teacher. All of my training and preparation to start my career has ended. I was in charge. I won't lie it was intimidating. But knockout punch was delivered when Lonnie, the Chemistry teacher who was showing me around, told me when the first day of school was. August 14. Yup. You're right. I did need a change of underwear.

You ever have those moments in life where you suddenly realize you frame of reference is about to shift? It's like the jolt of a train right before it starts to chug along. This was one of those times. Everything came down on me so hard that I couldn't help but break down. Knowing that I'd be taking a very large leap in my life scared me. I suppose it scares everyone. A good friend once told me that if you are going to change the world, you have to leave home. This is true. We don't realize it when you are young, but the world is bigger then your own backyard. There is a very particular feeling when you come to terms with the fact that are breaking away from your family to go out and start your own story. But like any good book, the starting of a new chapter doesn't mean the previous ones are irrelevant. Just because you do go off to herd your own cattle, that doesn't mean you don't abandon everything that you came from. On the contrary. Take those memories with you. You'll need them.

I named this post "Let it Marinate", because it took me a day to completely digest everything. I am excited now. I can't wait to start school and now that I think about it, August 14 couldn't come soon enough. I was born to teach and I know there is going to be some tough times, but it's going to be a great year. I conquered college. I'm totally ready to take on the next great part of my life. Sometimes you have to do something hard in order to make yourself a better person.

In other news, today I spent the day with Meg. We had a picnic and hung out on the beach. It was a lot of fun to just spend some time together. It also confirmed my theory of lesbians and their affinity for lakes.

I also found this picture.

Orel: Mom?

I'll probably be back before I leave for Ireland on Sunday. Hopefully I'll be able to blog it up the Emerald Isle. Until then...Love, Peace, and Soul.

I just dropped the "un", so call me employed

2008-07-09T19:01:00.000-07:00

In the words of Jesus "It is finished." I, Chris Anderson, am officially a certified faculty member of Princeton High school.

Suck on that kunckas!!!!!!!

Hold On For One More Day

2008-07-07T18:14:00.000-07:00

You ever get the feeling like you forget some of the most important lessons in your life? I feel that in the past 2 months or so I have forgotten the essence of Chris Anderson. I know why. It's the frustration with my job search. Nonetheless I feel have neglected one of the greatest skills I have acquired over the course of my travels in life, and that is listening.

I never used to a be a good listener. I think men are bad listeners by nature. We see our friends or girlfriends or wives feeling bad or having problems and we want to fix them. I learned how to listen from my friend John. He was and still is the best listener I have ever met. No matter how bad you felt about anything in the world, John could always make you feel better. One day I asked him what made him such a good listener and he told me his secret. He said that all people want is someone to complain to. They don't want our opinions, or what we think of the situation, or how we think they should solve it. All people anywhere want is for someone to hear about their bad day, give them a hug at the end , and tell them it's going to be ok. It's funny because when you talk to someone, you can't actually listen and talk at the same time. Talking is easy to enjoy because you get to say what's on your mind and what you think is important. But listening is deeper then that. It involves you really taking a look at how the other person views the world. The skill of listening has nothing to do with you. It's about letting the other people know that they matter to you, and whatever has been bothering them is important.

I feel like I haven't been listening to a lot of people in the past couple months. Between traveling and the job hunt, and possibly moving out of my house, it's like I haven't had time to stop and have a moment just to enjoy the quite. I wish I could hook a speaker to my brain because it would sound a lot like a high school auditorium with a thousand different voices all trying to get their point across at once. But things have been better. I feel better about myself. I have two goals in the coming weeks and that is to take more time to just relax with my own thoughts and listen to my friends and family. It's important that I get better at listening because one of my favorite past times is hearing about the life stories of people. Have you ever seen people on the street or the in the park or at school and wonder how did they get there? What's their life story? What made them the person that they are? Maybe it's just me. At any rate, I've been feeling more myself. I told my mom at the end of the school year this year that I had felt that I had become the Chris Anderson that I always knew I could be, but never was. I really think I am starting to get back to that. Take home lesson: Always look at life like you have something to achieve that way you never feel like you have fulfilled you potential.

Here's another bit of advice:always let your friends know how important they are to you.

By the way, the job search may be coming to a close. Stay tuned...

This round's on me

2008-07-02T18:34:00.000-07:00

"There's a bone in my hand that connects to a drink,
In a crowded room where the glasses clink,
And I'll buy you a beer and we'll drink it deep.
Because that keeps me from falling asleep."

The other day I had the privilege of hanging out with my buddy Ryan. I've known him almost all of my life; we went to the same grade school, caddied together, and went on mission trips to Kentucky. He has been a good friend for a long time and it was nice to go out and have a beer with him. He bought my first drink; for no good reason except the fact that we hadn't hung out in a while. That's the great part about beer, it's not that it's delicious (in the case of Sam Adams) or gets you drunk (as in the case of Natty). It's like a binding between friends, something that you pay forward to the people you really care about. It's as if you have an obligation to that person to buy a drink for someone else. It's karma. Treat your friends and loved ones the best you can while you are here and enjoy the time you have with them. After all, what else is there?

Hanging out with Ryan made me realize that I have really fallen off the face of the earth. Traveling so much this summer hasn't been very conducive to keeping in touch with my friends. I haven't even had time to talk with someone who for the past 3 years I feel I haven't gone much more then a day or so without a conversation. For that I apologize. I am going to give a better effort from now on. The past few years have been very important to me in the fact that I have grown up so much and the people who I have come to know have been a big part of that. I was driving back from Cincinnati today and I was listening to "Mona Lisas and Mad Hatters" by Elton John. It's a great tune if you've ever heard it, but there is a line in that says "I thank the Lord for the people I have found". That really rang true to me. I really am blessed to know the people I do. I hope everyone knows that.

By the way I got a lot of great feedback from everyone who read my first post. Keep it coming and thanks for reading!

Ain't No Love in the Heart of the City.

2008-06-29T18:43:00.000-07:00

Somebody got a problem with Hove...

I know I should start off my first post with something like "Hey everyone! Started this blog because blah blah blah and I'm so this and I like that", or some other mindless and self-absorbed babble. But I figured I'd spare most of the people here. If you are reading my blog, then you probably know me, so let's get down to the nitty gritty.

I just got back into town on Monday from my field study of Tropical Ecology. This trip took me all around South Florida and to the island of San Salvador in the Bahamas. I experienced so many cool things: swimming with sea turtles and sharks, exploring caves, wondering through the Everglades and so much more. It was hot and muggy, and I loved every minute of it. It's a great feeling, to feel the sun so close to you. The trip was led by Dr. Hays Cummins, a legend of a man. He's a shade taller then 6 feet and about as scrawny as I am, with nappy hair, well trimmed beard, and bright blue eyes that show the wonder of a 6 year old child exposed to the world. But it's important not to be deceived by his unimpressive stature. Hays has traveled the world, studying ecology and capturing the natural world on camera. Word has it that he has even been struck by lightening twice. And while I learned a lot from this trip, I felt that I could never be myself. I felt like I was always out to impress people. This is was stupid for so many reasons, but the biggest one is that I've already learned this lesson before. I learned it after high school, when I learned that people would like me without even trying. Kids, remember this: never ever try to make everyone like you. It's an impossible goal to attain, because you can't be all things to all people, and you look like a jackass in the process. More about this later...

Compounding my problem of trying to impress everyone in the Bahamas, I have been extra irritable lately. I know why; it's because I don't have a job yet. I won't lie, it's been a tough situation. I feel like graduation has been in vain without employment, as I just can't justify 4 years of education with nothing to show for it. Because I've been in and out of the country for the past couple weeks, I have missed a lot of the interview season. That, coupled with the bad economy and low turn over has bad finding a job really hard. For the first time in my life I've had to look at myself in the mirror and ask "I am a failure?". The worst part about this is that I feel I've been taking it out on my family. They don't deserve this, and I don't like this person that I've been while looking for a job. So to solve this problem, I drove to my church yesterday and decided to have a talk with God. I don't pray much, and I never do it traditionally. And as I prayed, it came to me that this part of my life, being broke, single, unemployed, and with most of my closest friends spread across the country, was a test. And while this part of my life was testing my patience and faith, it was also testing my fortitude. You never know what you are made of until you push yourself to the limits. I always have liked that saying, and I've used it to justify stupid and unusual situations I have gotten myself in, I never thought that my limits would stretch this far. But like any test you have in life, there's a breaking point. It's when you say "I can do this. This isn't too difficult for me." So that's what I have decided. Wish me luck.

By the way, I have an interview in the Nati on Wednesday. Do work, son.