June 2006 Archives

That's a Sport's Night ref, fyi.
Eli's not really, coming, my dad is. He'll be here in a couple of hours and I'm very excited. The last time he was here was when I graduated from my undergrad program four years ago. Four years ago!!?!! Wow. Anyway, sorry for the big gap between posts.

I went on a weekend kayaking trip with my college (last graduate class- whoop whoop!) and then it was all about packing and notifying dudes about my address change and signing district paperwork and blah blah blah. Boring. For you. Exciting. For me. I move on Sunday, and while I hate hate HATE moving, I am pumped about my new place and feel pretty confident that I won't have to move again for a long time.

Last night was the 3rd annual One Minute Film Festival. I didn't submit a film this year, but they showed the film I made last year in their highlights/recap section at the beginning. I was honored and also slightly embarrassed. Mike filmed my whole film on his camera and may post it on Vimeo. Very meta. He also took still photos of my scene in Ryan Jeffery's cool Crown movie. I play the love interest or "leading lady." I'm not positive that you could define my 15 seconds or so of screen time as a starring role, but I'm going to go ahead and do it anyway. Willow Wonder-star of the whole film festival. Unless you were blinking or taking a sip of beer or giving your boyfriend a kiss when I had my big scene. Oh who am I kidding? I should've make a stinking movie. It was nice seeing friends that are sort of off my daily radar. We didn't stay for much mingling after the show but it was still fun to give hugs and reconnect a bit.

I'm sorry this is sort of a lackluster post. I just wanted to break my non-blogging shame spiral. I'm back on the Internet, that's all that matters.

Liz wrote a really nice entry yesterday about the drive from Denver to Tacoma, where she went to college. I was sitting in Steve's living room when I read it and he told me I was crazy because I kept laughing and talking to the screen. I tried to write a comment, but there was just too much I wanted to say, so I decided I should just write my own post about the drive, because I too made it many, many times.

The first time was in Liz's red Camry in the summer of 1998, when she drove me to college in Portland for my freshman year. That trip stands in my memory as the best road trip of my life. We took all kinds of crazy back roads and minor highways and made many stops along the way. We told lies to indifferent waitstaff and winked at roadside flaggers who shouted "you're beautiful!" as we drove away. Liz and I can still throw each other into fits of laughter by saying the word "Banff" the way the slack-jawed ten year old in Boise did when he told us about the dinosaur festival there. It's funny. That trip was one of the few times when I was aware, at the time, that I was living one of the Major Moments of My Life (for lack of a less-cheesy term). The first What the Heck Fest was another. It was like a blessed three day oasis between the sadness of leaving home and the scariness of starting life in a new city. I still remember every single moment of that trip, even though I've made the same drive a dozen times since.

Most of my trips to and from Denver were with Liz and one or another of her college friends, but some were with boys in my white 1990 Dodge Colt. It looked like a Geo Metro, only boxier. Like a boxy egg. Her name was Lucy. My friend Travis and I did the drive together a couple of times. Once in winter he lost control on a patch of ice and skidded to a stop mere feet from a surprised trucker who had been chaining up his semi, but abandoned to task and sprinted toward his cab when he saw us careening toward him. Wordlessly, Travis and I switched places and I drove the rest of the way to Twin Falls in silence.

Another time my high school boyfriend flew to Portland to make the drive home with me. In retrospect I realize that he was still in love with me and probably came to tell me so. But I was in full on party-mode when he arrived and was literally making out with some dude when Noah arrived at my dorm. He didn't talk to me for the two days he hung out in Portland, and he didn't talk to me for the two day drive back to Denver. He just chain smoked and played his gutter punk tapes at high volume. I'm pretty sure he threw my Rushmore soundtrack out the window when I was sleeping, but he never confessed. The night we arrived back in Denver his friends threw him a 21st birthday party, and then, full of booze, he started talking. He went on and on to the assembled skater dudes about how my life in Portland was a joke, and my college was full of Trustafarian hypocrites. His friends kept trying to get him to shut up, but he went on and on. It was humiliating. So later that night I shot him in the foot with his BB gun. And then we didn't talk for a year. But we're cool now.

The last time I made the drive was 2 years ago when I was moving back to Portland fro Dublin. It was a total "Planes, Trains and Automobiles" trip. I flew to NYC, spent a month with Liz and J, then met Heather in Massachusetts where we hopped on a train bound for Denver. We documented our trip with photos and audio recordings, and one of these days we'll create a rad art installation with the material. Anyway, in Denver I met up with my friend Peter who runs a "Man With a Van" business. He used said van to transport me and all of my childhood furniture to the City of Roses. We stopped for a night in Salt Lake City to visit Sweet Lucy. It was an extended, awesome homecoming.

Now even though I have a car I still just fly home when I need to make a visit. It's easier, I guess. But I miss the open road. I miss the talking and the not-talking, the peaks and the plains. I miss the practical jokes and the cooler full of snacks (Liz packs the best snacks). The closest thing I've had to a road trip since moving back to the Northwest was last summer's trip to Anacortes for What the Heck. Beautiful and fun, but not quite epic.

If this were a chick-flick I would get breast cancer and Liz and Heather would fly here to move me back to Denver, and along the way we would reminisce about coming-of-age together and one of us would decide to leave her husband, and one of us would decide to quit her job, and one of us would get an abortion, and then when we got back to Denver I would die. I'm glad this isn't a chick-flick.

Today marked two homecomings of sorts for Willow Wonder. First, I visited my new school and was introduced to the classroom that will be mine in the fall. How do you do? It's pretty nice, despite the fluorescent lights and crappy sponge-paint job. It's in a weird garden level basement, and shares the floor with only one other classroom- coincidentally the soon-to-be classroom of another 1st year 1st Grade teacher from my graduating class. She's named Hannah and she is nice. So we'll be able to bumble around down there with no reproving eyes or tsking tongues. God, why do I assume that more experienced teachers would tsk me? I am still such a teenager in so many ways. Anyway, there is a little greenhouse right outside my classroom door, so now I'm dreaming of all kinds of cool growing projects for little kids. It would be great to grow vegetables and then have a 1st grade feast! (Not a feast of first graders, mind you.)

Then this afternoon I SIGNED THE LEASE for my new apartment! Yea! I move in a week from Saturday, and if you are strong and want to help me I will buy you pizza. I will also buy you pizza if you are weak and want to help me. You can carry the empty boxes back down the stairs or something. Man, I had to write a REALLY big check for this place, but it covered 1st and last months rent and a deposit and a prorate something or other for moving in a week early. But it will be so worth it in a 2 weeks when I am eating pizza on my new floor with my cool helpful friends surrounded by all of my boxed-up junk. I have never been so excited about moving. Every other move involved some apprehension about roommates or funky fixtures, or in the case of NYC and Dublin, not actually having a place to live before moving there. This time it's just me and my high ceilings and big windows. And my new turquoise couch. Oh man. I will definitely have people over soon.

I've been alluding to it for some time, but now it's time to officially own up. Mike and I unbroke-up about three weeks ago. It feels a little weird to announce it, because I know when people tell me that they're back together with an ex my response is always something to the effect of, "are you sure? Ok, well just be careful." I don't know, it often seems foolhardy. I don't want to put all of our laundry out on the line, but I will say that being apart for a few weeks ended up being a good thing, we got some perspective, and we are now Stronger Than Ever. In fact, if I didn't think it would be tempting fate, I would post a picture of us smiling triumphantly with those words overlaid on the image, "Mike and Willow: Stronger Than Ever." Okay, maybe I wouldn't do that, but it is a funny idea. Especially if we were wearing power suits. And hard hats.

Yesterday I went to another Timbers game (after watching 2 World Cup games) with Mike, Josh and Matt McCormick. Man, it is soccer-craziness over at Urban Honking. I have money riding on England, Sweden, and Japan (wildly different odds), so the games are much more interesting to me than they would be otherwise. Plus Mike and his flatmate John have been making match-appropriate food for each major game, meaning that we had braatwurst and bananas for the Germany/Costa Rica match, and a traditional English breakfast plus Paraguayan something (I can't remember) then next morning. Very cute. And tasty. Of course now it's Sunday night and I've basically spent the whole weekend watching soccer, but then so has the rest of the world. So it's cool.

Well, okay.
It's been a long time since my last ecstatic post about my killer new job. I intended to fill y'all in on the stomach-churning interview with the Big Man, but then... well. I graduated. And my mom came to town for a week. And my internship ended. And I basically had no internet time at all and I am sorry. But boy do I have a wave of relief washing over me right now! I am essentially on vacation until labor day. Whoop whoop!

Leaving my first first grade class was pretty tough. I love those kids so much! I held it together all day yesterday, despite the fact that I had my mom shadowing me all day at school and getting misty-eyed every time someone thanked me or gave me a compliment. I even held it together during the farewell community meeting when all of the faculty who were leaving the school had to sit up on stage for half an hour while sweet, teary children stood up one by one and thanked us for things like, "being the funnest, funniest teacher ever." The other interns wept, but I stayed pretty cool.

But then, at the end of the day, after we all said our goodbyes and I had hugged each of my students and promised them I'd meet them for ice cream this summer if they wanted to, the mom of my sweetest student came in to collect her son. Her boy, "Sam", is a super-shy animal lover who has some pretty rough learning problems. He and I made a special connection this year, and I worked with him one-on-one a lot. Despite his shyness, Sam raised his hand in community meeting and thanked me for helping him. It just about broke my heart. Anyway, his mom came in and I told her about it and she just started sobbing and thanked me and told me that Sam had woken up that morning crying and said that he didn't know why everyone was excited about summer because he didn't want first grade to end because he didn't want me to leave. Yeah. I pretty much lost it at that point. That kid has a tough road ahead of him in terms of schooling, and I just hope he can sustain his good attitude. And I hope that his teachers understand and love him. Sniff, sniff.

Tomorrow I will post my long-promised relationship update. But there is a World Cup game showing and anyway I don't want to lump that fun news into this sappy gush. Goodnight!

WILLOW!!

That's right! I will post the hilarious/excruciating details of my final interview later when I'm not so wound up, but the long and short of it is I GOT THE JOB!!! The really really awesome job teaching 1st grade at a wonderful school in a completely rad district! IT HAPPENED!! IT'S REAL!!!

I have to go celebrate.
I am sort of in shock.

it happened. it's real.