Holidays at "Home"

I feel the need to put "home" in quotes not because I love doing the "air quotes", but because that's what everyone asks, "Are you going 'home' for Christmas?" No, my home is in San Francisco. My immediate family, however, is still in Indiana.

Even writing that opening caveat is odd. The feeling begins right as we begin to touch down in Chicago. [I flew into Midway on Southwest Airlines - one of the hubs where they film that show on cable called "Airline" - which has been on non-stop... on which my parents have been watching non-stop. I swear to god, these people watch more TV than I do. I, honestly, had to get up and grab a book the other night - just too much TV.][Oh, and Midway has THE shortest runways. I don't like to fly in the first place, and it makes it 100 times worse when your plane, approaching the runway, SLAMS on the breaks and dips and swerves all over the place. I grimaced and clutched the seat arms the entire time and then blurped an audible "OH NO!" as we dipped and touched down.]

So, the "feeling". I'm not sure what it is - the holidays, the fact that everything here is a dingy brown in the winter, the dirty brown buildings, the industry and boarded up industry factory buildings that litter the landscape around Lake Michigan, or the memories, the DEEP-SEATED memories that continue to haunt me around this area - but I immediately start feeling really "down" when I'm back here in Northwest Indiana. My parents picked me up at the airport, we got in their car [a behemoth of an automobile], and drove through the outskirts of Chicago. My father made some comments about "these people" [African Americans] and I bit my tongue - I just didn't want to go there so soon. This is supposed to be a restful couple of weeks.

We stopped, before reaching their house, at their favorite Chinese food restaurant in Miller, Indiana, which I am now referring to as THE most depressing place in the world. Holy cow. Everything is boarded up. The cinema where we went to see that trippy-ass "Raggedy Ann & Andy Adventure" movie in the '70s [why isn't it available on DVD yet??] is boarded up. All of the stores are boarded up. Hell, even the Burger King is boarded up. This town couldn't even support a Burger King. The only things that aren't boarded up [besides the Chinese restaurant] are porn stores. Depressing. The Chinese food, however, rocked. The chicken dish that I got had ALL WHITE MEAT. I haven't had Chinese food this good since Dragon in Bloomington.

I had planned on driving down to Indianapolis to see Jay and Catherine [brother and sister-in-law] on Wednesday [I flew in on Monday] and then come back on Thursday, but my parent suggested I go down on Tuesday and spend two nights there. Sounded good. The crappy thing was that my mom needed her car so it ended up that my parents drove halfway down to Indy, and then my brother drove up halfway from Indy, and the made an exchange of me in a McDonald's parking lot. I was just upset because I was REALLY looking forward to getting to drive myself. I had packed a BUNCH of CDs that I thought would be perfect for the road. Oh well.

It was SO good to spend 2 days with Jay and Catherine. I just love them both so much, and I even feel bad now that I didn't exactly express that enough to them. They mean the world to me, Catherine is due to have a little girl in February, and I feel like I didn't take full advantage of the time that I had with them. No regrets, though. They have the cutest retired greyhound named Kenny. Such a big, powerful dog, who just has the most likeable and sweet personality. The day that I got there Jay and I took Kenny for a walk. Since it was so cold - BITTERLY COLD - Kenny wore this little cape that had a turtle neck on it. He's so light on his feet and has this set route that he takes you on. He knows when to turn. He knows when to slow down. He knows when to pick up the pace when he thinks that Jay might cut the walk short. Hilarious.

Brian [who is currently in Indy visiting his family] and his cousin met up with Jay and Catherine and I on Wednesday for lunch. His cousin had to leave so Jay agreed to take Brian back to his parents. We actually ended up dropping him off at the Christian Bookstore/Coffee Shop that his parents own. It was a really impressive place. VERY put together an professional looking... just filled with odd Christian-y stuff. I tried to extend a metaphorical hand to Brian's mother by pointing to one of those books in that crazy "the world is ending and certain people are being taken up to heaven" [I'll insert a link later, if you need it] series and saying, "Aren't there, like, 50 books in that series?" It was my way of trying to connect. Hopefully I scored some points. As Jay and I left, Brian walked me outside so that we could kiss without his parents seeing. Yes, it sucks that it has to be that way, but, that IS the way it has to be.

A guy that Jay and Catherine [from here on out to be known as J & C] work with stopped by to give them a Christmas gift. After being introduced to him as "my brother from San Francisco" the guys said, "Oh, you're the one who writes the blog! I've read it." Whoa.

All Bloomingtonites who no longer live in Bloomington [especially you, Jason] will be jealous to find out that I got to have the Big 10 Special from Pizza Express the other night. The breadsticks and cheese sauce were EXACTLY how I remembered them. SO freakin' delicious. WHY don't they make breadsticks like that anywhere else?

Wednesday night I went with Jay to pick up a crib they had ordered from JC Penny's. J & C have Saturn SUV which I thought would be ample to carry the crib home in. Wrong. Jay and I walked up to the counter, spoke to the woman about picking up the crib, and she immediately went, "Oh, gee!" Like, this crib is infamous for its size. The helper guy at JC Penny's was on his dinner break, so Jay and I got to go back into the Penny's warehouse space and retrieve the thing on our own. Yes, it was huge and heavy... and just a bit too big to fit in their car. Luckily, Jay had purchased some rope, thinking that the crib box would need to be strapped to the roof. So, there Jay and I were, freezing our fingers off in falling snow and what felt like sub-zero temperatures trying to strap this thing to the top of the SUV. I took the reins and started running the rope around a support and then over and under and around the box. I wasn't 100% sure that it wouldn't slip off the roof when we got moving, but it actually didn't seem to move an inch by the time we got it home. It was just SO freakin' cold and we had to keep jumping back in the car to warm our hands for a minute before going back out to do some more strapping. Might make a good story to tell Emily [the soon-to-be neice] some day.

We did the exchange again in the same McDonald's parking lot on Thursday, and on the way back to my parents had a great night. My parents first stopped at Fetla's so that I could look at shoes. This place used to be the COOLEST place in the world - a huge, dirty, cavernous warehouse with shelves to the ceiling that you could get lost in which sold everything you would ever need - food, guns, throwing stars, flannel shirts, boats, and tampons. Now, the place is one big open space that only sells a few shoes, a few guns, and some ugly coats. WAY sad.

From Fetla's they took me out to eat at my Dad's Country Club. It's this place that he golfs at and pays a flat fee at every month. He then has to spend that much money before the end of the month [golfing, drinking, eating] or it's lost. I must say that I was WAY skeptical of the whole "having dinner at a country club" thing, but it turned out to be not so bad. The waiter we had, who my father endless joked around with, is this gay man [my father told me the guy was gay, but I didn't need to be told... it was quite obvious] in his mid/late 40s and I thought, "Holy crap. What must it be like to be an "out" gay man living in this area?" Kinda lonely, I'm sure.

From dinner we went to Michigan City to see this one part of town where the city puts up an enormous amount of Christmas lights and decorations. It was SO cool. Now, THIS was Christmas. California doesn't know what Christmas is supposed to be like. After the lights we went to Lowes so that my parents could get a new doorbell. In line in front of us was this redheaded kid who was probably 19 or 20... and I got a "look" from him. It seems that I found the OTHER gay male in the area.

After Lowes we stopped for ice cream/custard [on the COLDEST NIGHT OF THE YEAR] at a place called Culver's - it's a hamburger/custard chain that has become my Mom's favorite. I got a Carmel Apple sundae that ended up being HUGE and actually had fresh cut-up apples in it. Tasty. Oh, and on our way to Michigan City I got to see my favorite tree. It is this beautiful old tree on the side of the highway that perfectly and gracefully hangs over the road. Apparently it is diseased and the city wanted to tear it down, but so many people protested [it has a following!] that they agreed to keep it up. The city also said that it is the only tree that they will allow to hang over the road. My grandmother who passed away in 2001 apparently, when driving past it, always used to exclaim, "There's Eric's tree!" It makes me tear up. It was a great night, and my father is SO sweet to have planned the whole thing.

So, here we are on Christmas. My other [older] brother and sister-in-law drove over from South Bend last night [J & C didn't come up from Indy because they don't want to travel with C being pregnant and all], spent the night, and then got up at 6 AM so that we could get the party started. They are early risers. Oh, and they brought their little Shih Tzu named Ryno. Another cute dog. VERY different from Kenny, but equally as cute and loveable. After seeing my older brother with Ryno for only a few minutes I leaned over to my sister-in-law and said, "I have now heard BOTH of my brothers talking in a way to their dogs that I NEVER would've thought I would hear them talk." These dogs are the first pets for both brothers and they clearly love them both SO much. It's just odd, and heartbreakingly sweet, to hear them both get these high-pitched endearing tones when addressing their respective pooches. So, my brother and sister-in-law left an hour ago, and I've been here typing the whole time. I feel bad leaving my parents alone for so long, but I wanted to get some of this stuff down before more stuff happens.

So, the "feeling". Well, today I went into the garage and had a couple of smokes with my Dad at various points. Each time, we had a moment where he started opening up with stuff - mainly about my older brother. I guess he's had it rough the last couple of years, and what pisses me off is that I haven't really been kept in the loop about it all. If your brother had a bleeding ulcer, and had to go on medication due to a SEVERE depression, and may have tried to end it all at one point, and maybe got a small loveable dog because he is upset that he will never have a child, wouldn't you want to know these things?? It just upsets me that my family doesn't talk about this stuff. I mean, it REALLY upsets me. We just don't talk to each other. We don't share things. AT ALL. My older brother's wife is this VERY outspoken woman - my brother married my father. I'm not sure what we ever did without her. If she hadn't been here, we would've eaten our Christmas dinner [our rather delicious Christmas dinner] in silence.

On a positive note, my sister-in-law got my older brother this totally pirate game system that, supposedly, has 12,000 [yes, TWELVE THOUSAND] old video games on it. Well, it was made in China and does count up to 12,000, but it is really probably only 30 games over and over and over and over again, just with different badly translated names. So, my brother and I [the brother that I talk to once a year] spent a good portion of the day playing videogames together. Just like old times. Again, it brings a lump to my throat to think about.

SO, that's it for now. There are more things to tell about, more "feelings" to talk about, but I've got to get back to my parents.

Brian is driving up tomorrow morning [PLEASE let the roads be clear] and we are going to go to the high school reunion [that I set up over the summer] tomorrow evening. It'll be VERY odd to see the old "gang". Many who initially were excited about the event have sinced said that they can't make it, but there should be 8-10 of us hanging out, drinking, laughing over old times. Brian is a TOTAL trooper for agreeing to go to it with me. I love him dearly and miss seeing him every day. The "feelings" certainly would be much more bearable if he were here at my side.

BREAK & My Last Few Weeks/Months, PART 2

All week I've been waiting for it to be today at 2pm. At last, it is upon us. School's out for 2 weeks. Whoo-hoo! The only crappy thing is that since I'm paid on a day-to-day basis, I don't, technically, get paid for these 10 days. But, you know what? At this point, I don't really care. I'm just glad to be out of there.

Am I enjoying the job? Well, the last month or so has been kind of rough and has shown me that being a classroom teacher is probably not what I'm best suited for. It's really pushing me in the direction of the Library Sciences program. When San Jose State goes back to school at the end of January, I'm going to request a Monday off from Bryant and go down there to check things out. I'm also planning on getting my IU and SFSU transcripts together in a couple of weeks, and will try my darndest to get the whole program application together. It isn't technically due until March, but there is no penalty for getting it done and in early. I'm telling you, EVERY TIME I walk past the library [which is MULTIPLE times a day], and every time I talk to the librarian [which is multiple times a day], I think, "Damn, THAT'S where I want to be." I can't handle a class everyday all day. I need time to myself to work on projects that I deem necessary. I've often thought that I would like to work for myself somehow - often times the dream revolved around my owning and running my own music store. Well, being in a library will be close to that - I'll have my own room to do with and organize as I see fit.

A lot of my time at Bryant so far has been working on little projects. Stuff like taking pictures, mounting the pictures on colored construction paper, laminating them, and then creating a bulletin board in a public space. There were also a couple of weeks at the beginning of November where I spent my days in various teachers' rooms helping them redo outdated bulletin boards, getting their rooms ready for some big district walkthrough. LOVED IT. I made signs, rearranged posters, posted student writing samples, etc. More than once, a few teachers said things to me like, "I'm sorry that you have to do this stuff," and, "This is SO not the best use of you. I mean, you're a credentialed teacher!" But, you know what? It's THAT stuff - those kinds of projects - that I enjoy most about the job. The principal has labeled me the official photographer and school art director.

One of the rooms that I had to work on during those two weeks before the walkthrough was Miles's old room. HONESTLY, I was there for 10 minutes or so handing up student artwork and I had to take a break and leave the room. It was just too painful to be in there. I'm not saying that the woman who got MY job is a bad teacher, but that room SO doesn't have ANY of the spirit, kick, life, or color that Miles's room had - and that I would've given it. There was just this depressing vibe in there and I couldn't take it. Kids were singing while they should've been working, fighting, yelling, running around the room, and they were, like, gluing pinto beans onto paper. Miles [and I] NEVER would've been caught dead doing something so... so... juvenile. He didn't treat his kindergarteners like they were babies - they never did such silly busywork. He treated them like they were capable of SO much more. I don't know, I guess I shouldn't be complaining, because I just got done saying that I don't really want my own classroom anyway.

P.E. time still sucks. I don't know what to do. The kids are just monsters when they come to me and they REFUSE to follow directions or show me any amount of respect. It's completely frustrating. I went to see the Trashcan Sinatras last weekend [GREAT SHOW] and the opening act guy was up there doing a great job... to a somewhat uninterested audience. I just wanted to yell out, "Shut up! Show this guy some frreakin' respect. He's not up there to entertain himself." I TOTALLY knew what he was going through, though. I find myself in a number of classrooms where I'm up there teaching and there are kids that just REFUSE to pay attention. They're carrying on conversations and I have to, literally, get in their faces and say, "Um, hi. Can you listen for me, please?" But, while I'm addressing one issue, half a dozen others spring up. It's like, "Eric's here! It's play time!" Absolutely frustrating - and spirit killing. It's like, have the parents of these kids not AT ALL taught their kids some manners?

So, yeah, P.E. time. One week I did Freeze Tag, and of course kids ran into each other and cried. Another week I spent a bunch of time setting up this Hockey Obstacle Course where the kids were going to use hockey sticks to maneuver little yarn balls around cones, hula hoops, etc. The first class came and just DESTROYED it and then complained that it was boring. I was so mad. Instead, with the rest of the classes for the rest of the week, I just had them play hockey. Again, kids were slapping each other in the faces, stomachs, and shins, coming to me crying. I can't win.

Late last week, I busted out the PARACHUTE! I don't know about you, but we got to use the parachute a couple of times a year when I was in elementary school, and it was always THE BEST TIME. I figured, I'd bring it out as a "Christmas present" of sorts for the kids. Well, it was a BRAND SPANKING NEW parachute when I opened it last week. Now... it's a HEAVILY worn parachute. I started out by telling the kids, "When we go outside, I want you to put your bags down and sit on the benches. There's a big parachute out there [I set it out ahead of time] that we are going to get to play with, but I don't want you to touch it until I tell you that you can." In EVERY class there was a handful of kids who got outside, threw their bags down, RAN FULLSPEED over to the parachute, and began to WALK ALL OVER IT. Why have you never learned to follow directions?? My big opening speech gave the kids 3 essential rules:

(1.) Don't touch the parachute until I tell you that you can.
(2.) Don't EVER walk on top of the parachute, and you may only go under the chute when I tell you that you can.
(3.) Treat the parachute nicely. It's made of cloth and can easily get ripped and torn.

On cue, there were kids who, pretty much immediately, broke ALL of the rules, so these kids did 5 minutes on the bench. Of course, there were a few kids who just REFUSED to give me the 5 minutes. The first couple of days, I was PISSED. [Well, how would you feel if a kid looked you straight in the eye and smiled while STOMPING on top of the parachute?] At the end of each day, after using the chute with 2 classes each day, my voice was SHOT. Barking and barking and barking at kids wreaks havoc on the old vocal chords. Then, I thought, "Why am I getting so upset? They're kids, it's a week before a 2 week break, 2 weeks before Christmas, and, they're KIDS. Let's just have fun." Well, that thinking only got me so far. I still didn't appreciate having kids COMPLETELY disregard the things I was asking them to do [or NOT do]. I mean, you've got to lay down the law at some point, or they will walk all over you. The librarian even advised me to "make an example" out of a couple of kids every now and then... which I tried doing. Oh, and I borrowed a whistle from this guy at school. That thing works wonders.

Letting Go is the Hardest Part

"Let Go" was the theme of today's yoga class. Yeah, since I got the job, and we have some more money coming in, I decided to start going to yoga again on a weekly basis. I'm going to Yoga Tree in the neighborhood at 3pm on Wednesdays. For some reason, it has a special price [$7 - half price! - cheaper than all other classes], and it means that I have to leave school early [oops! I'm supposed to stay on school grounds until 3:05pm...]. The teacher is super nice, but a little hippy-dippy for my taste [he makes a point of getting everyones' names, smiles an awful lot, speaks in calming tones, soothingly touches you, and stuff...]. I think, however, that it's good for me to go back to the same teacher every week. He SAYS that he can already see progress in me. "I'm just SO not very limber," I said after class today [I suck at accepting and believing compliments, so I immediately have to make a self-depricating comment...]. "But, I'm fine with baby steps." It's just bizarre to be standing there, ATTEMPTING to touch the floor without bending my knees [at this point, I can BARELY touch my shins], and look over to see the guy next to me doubled over with the top half of his body completely touching the lower part of his body. Freakish, I tell you.

SO, there we were, doing the "yoga sleep"/meditation portion of class [the portion that I refer to as The Sleep of Ages] - it's the last part of class, the most WELCOME portion after working every crazy muscle and sweating like a hog for an hour and a quarter, where you get to just lay there with a big thick blanket over you in the dark and drift away. Today, the hippy-dippy guy read some stuff about "letting go" and I just kept thinking about my day. Yeah, I TRIED to "breathe in the good feelings" and "exhale the negativity", and I attempted to "say 'Goodbye' to the thoughts" that sprung up in my consciousness, but they were SO strong and vivid. It's VERY difficult for me to just breathe through things and not worry about them. I'm a born worrier. In fact, I'm not sure what would take up residence in my brain if all of the worry decided to suddenly vacate. What do other people usually have going on in their brains? I'm always thinking about what happened, what's happening, and what things I have to do when the future happens. "Man, Jose really pissed me off today." "Am I breathing correctly?" "What if it rains again tomorrow? What will I do with the 3rd graders for P.E.?"

Don't get me wrong, the yoga rocks, and I step foot out of there [this is my 3rd week] walking on a cloud - like nothing can get me down - but, the whole mental part of it is tough for me. In essence, though, that's why I picked yoga. Really, it's the only physical activity that I can see myself doing at this point. I don't swim, I don't play sports, I don't do aerobics [lack of coordination], I don't do weights [unless you would like to pay for a personal trainer for me, then I might consider it], I'd probably take up running but we live in the big city and I would rather run in the countryside. I picked something slightly physical and slightly mental for a reason. Now, if only I would get my enrollment info from Kaiser then I could get a full physical checkup and sign up for counseling. Then, I'll hopefully really be on my way to letting it all go.