so much fancy
by Willow
I'm exasperated because I wrote a really nice post about a storycorps feature that made my carpool friend and I cry on the way to work last week, but then I did a wrong keyboard shortcut and lost the whole thing. It's my own fault for writing straight into MT, but still. I don't have the heart to write it again, so just check out Annie and Danny on the storycorps website. Or listen to a nice excerpt from the first interview they gave storycorps. Danny is dead now, but sharing the story of his love for Anne has ennobled and immortalized him.
This weekend had me thinking a lot about the large and small gestures we make to let people know we love them. I went to my mentor teacher's wedding at the oldest African American church in Portland. It was at four in the afternoon, and the rain-diffused light softened even more as it filtered through the stained glass windows. The theme song for the wedding (if there can be such a thing) was At Last. The officiant was a close friend of the bride and groom, and he made lots of references to the winding road they walked to the alter. Their newborn baby snuggled in the arms of the bride's son attested to that. So, yeah. The wedding was a long time coming, but the love was there all along. And it's cool when a wedding is just an acknowledgment of a union that is already strong. Not a monument as much as a milestone. Anyway, it was cool.
That night HMS ARK ROYAL (whose pseudonym may soon be abandoned) and I attended a black tie event at the Convention Center. The fancy school where I work was holding their annual auction, hoping to raise a couple hundred thousand dollars. Or maybe half a million. Anyway. All kinds of Portland royalty were there, dressed to the nines, bidding bazillions of dollars on doggie parties and racecar vacation packages. Middle-aged moms were dragging their husbands along by their hands, angling for some hot silent auction item. Maybe a dress worn by Paris Hilton. Maybe an autographed Cal Ripkin baseball glove. Everyone was tipsy and having a good time. I started talking to one student's parents- this girl is having a real tough time in first grade- and next thing I know the mom was crying, and the dad was telling me how emotional they both are right now. I just wanted them to know that I cared about their kid, and that other kids and teachers do too, despite the rocky road. I guess it was the wrong time to bring up a touchy subject, and I feel bad that I put a damper on their evening. But it's amazing how vulnerable such powerful people can get when it comes to their kids. All parents do, I guess. Love. The large and small ways it reveals itself.
HMS ARK ROYAL and I are in a nice, tender place. We're both busy, busy, and it can be a strain. But we're working on our relationship contract, setting a date schedule, and doing lots of ichat check ins. HRS ARK ROYAL points out that this is all just code for "communicating." It's nice to be with someone who likes structure in a relationship as much as I do. Things feel strong right now.
Am I lucky or what?
Posted on February 27, 2006 | Comments (3)

I would marry them both.
by Willow
The Wilson brothers, that is. I just read
Ca-caw! Ca-caw!
The thing is, they are just perfect compliments to each other. I can never really pick a favorite, because they are so nice as a pair. Luke, Luke, Luke. Steady as a rock. And oh oh, Owen. Such a lady killer! Just slaying them! If they both proposed to me on the very same day, but the offers expired at midnight and I had to choose, I would pick Luke. Because I am pretty sure he would make a better husband- do the dishes, paint the fence. Owen would be awfully fun, but he might just be a cheater. He's sneaky, you know? And while I would like to make sweet love to him, I think he would be an excellent brother-in-law. He'd bring the beer at the 4th of July BBQ, and who knows? Maybe a joint, too.
There was a time, after Rushmore but before Royal Tenenbaums, when I was convinced that if I crafted the PERFECT letter to Wes Anderson (I mean really perfect) he would fall half in love with me and put me in a movie. I would play a returning astronaut with a crippling case of Vertigo who rides a bike barefoot and always wears short-shorts. My leading man? Insert Wilson brother here.
Sigh. Gweneth Paltrow stole my thunder, and my chances of lasting love with Dignan or Anthony were dashed forever. Ugh! "I want to hug him!"
Posted on February 23, 2006 | Comments (4)

ch ch ch ch changes
by Willow
I do not do well with change. That is fact number 11 or 12 about Willow: She does not do well with change. The summer before I left Denver for college, I got ulcers from the worry. During my two month gradual return from Dublin to Portland I cried almost every day, even though I was so happy to be headed home. And when my heart was last broken, I threw up every morning for a month. I used to yell at my mom when I was packing for camp, and anyone who has ever helped me move houses can attest to my nervy nerves. I do not do well with change!
Rereading that intro, I think it would be more accurate to say that I do not do well with uncertainty. I'm not good at "winging it," or "rolling with the punches." Tomato, tomato.
Which is unfortunate, because I am entering a period of great uncertainty. Classes end in a week and a half, and I'm cool with that part. I feel like a highly trained teacher. The part that's got me all tied up in knots is the whole job hunting part. We did a resume workshop yesterday- two cohorts combined- and while it was helpful it was also completely overwhelming. The other cohort is obsessed with Making An Impression in the 30 seconds they'll talk to district reps at job fairs- meaning they'll all be in pink power suits and color-of-confidence lipstick or whatever. The stress/anxiety level of my cohort pales, just pales in comparison to their collective intensity.
I'm actually not THAT worried about getting a job. I make a good first impression, I have a lot of experience, I interview well, and I'm a really good teacher. I'm mostly worried about the PROCESS of getting a job- the job fair registrations, the memorization of district information, the sending of many thank you notes, the mapquesting directions to suburban convention centers. I am not good at these things! And I need to make a portfolio! Circuits.... Burning....
I'm trying to keep my stress contained. Which is to say I'm trying not to take it out on my boyfriend. I hate acting like a grouch- it makes me feel so guilty! And I'm trying to be good about examining the source of my grouchiness before I grumble. I want to keep my expectations reasonable and appropriate. And not overreact to miner stuff. Basically I'm trying to be a good girlfriend and not a total ding dong.
I took the day off today because I've been feeling almost-sick for the last little while. I've been run-down, headachy, and slightly queasy. I thought I was on the verge of coming down with something, but now that I think about it it's probably just stress. On the plus side I'm not vomiting, and I don't have ulcers, and my crying jags are happening in around three day intervals. So maybe I'm managing it all a little better than I used to.
My life is not hard! I need to stop being such a baby!
Posted on February 21, 2006 | Comments (7)

pink power suit
by Willow
One of the girls in my cohort owns a pink power suit, and she is planning on wearing it to the plethora of job fairs we'll all be attending over the next few months. Do I need to buy a suit? I have a very nice grey suit that was tailored for me for a college play set in the 1950s. It has become my de-facto Miss Nancy Novak suit. The skirt is very, very, very tight. And it has some largish pink buttons- great on stage, not as great in person. What I'm saying is that I would look like a high class trollop strutting around the convention center in it- not at all the sexless old maid I ought to present. So what should I wear? The lady who came to put the fear of god in us (by informing us of the close deadlines, large applicant pool, and fickle administrators) told us to dress like "Nordstrom sales associates." Uh huh. Which department? Makeup? Should I wear a white smock and beige slacks with stilettos? Or maybe I should look to Brass Plum for inspiration. I could wear fluffy sheepskin boots with white leggings and a gold lame tunic. Appropriate? Maybe not.
So, maybe a suit. They keep saying you can't overdress for an interview, but you can certainly underdress. They also say you should wear what you'd wear to parent/teacher conferences. And if your a man you should definitely wear a tie. But not necessarily jacket. Can I get away with a nice sweater/skirt combo? Anyone who has interviewed for a real job want to help me out? European?
Help!
Posted on February 19, 2006 | Comments (8)

Almost a Master
by Willow
My classes end on March 1st. Today is February 18th. So, yeah. In eleven days I will effectively have earned my Masters degree. I will be a trained teacher. I mean, I still have to finish my student teaching, and in the summer I'll take a few reflection classes. But ultimately, I'm done. And that is REALLY scary! I keep having these waves of panic. Where am I going to work? What if I don't get a job? How am I going to finish the massive amount of coursework that is due in the next few weeks and still find time to update my resume, build my portfolio and buy proper interview clothes? Some districts in my area begin the application process in March. I have to get letters of recommendation together! It is stressful! And some people in my cohort are building websites. Should I build a website? I don't know how to do that! But I'll be competing against people who have one, so maybe I should have one. And that's another thing- I am about to compete for jobs against my cohort friends. I don't want to do it! I want all of us to work together at a school! The thought of being pitted against any of them makes me feel a little sick.
And then in addition to homework and job prep there is also the small matter of filing my taxes so I can apply for financial aid. It's due March 1st, but I haven't gone near it yet. You know in cartoons when the robot is forced to process too much information and it starts making that whirring/sputtering noise and then bolts start flying from it's head? That is how I feel.
I know that I will be a good teacher. I have weaknesses, but I know what they are and I'm working on them. I don't take rigorous enough anecdotal assessment notes. My mini-lessons are inconsistent. But those things are easily fixed with some careful planning and attention. The broader skills- relationship building, creative lesson planning, classroom management and flexible teaching- I have down pretty solid. So why am I so incredibly freaked out?
I want to close my eyes for a while, and then when I open them I want all of this hard, stressful stuff to be over. Okay? Thanks.
Posted on February 18, 2006 | Comments (5)

riding the ponies on my special day
by Willow
I feel almost guilty about blogging my birthday. It was so amazingly perfect that I feel like a braggart sharing it. So let me preface this entry by noting that the weeks preceding my special day were filled with me brattily insisting that I wanted to be surprised. When pushed for more specifics, I would declare that I wanted to ride horses on my birthday. Or maybe take a spin in a hot air balloon. So if you read this entry and think, "man! How can I make my friends completely spoil me on my birthday?" The answer is: aim high. And be a brat.
My awesome day began at work. In the past I have taken my birthday off, but there was no way I was going to miss celebrating my 26th year with first graders. If anyone takes birthdays seriously, it's little kids. I got more hugs and magic marker smudged cards than should be allowed by law. Those kids effing LOVE me! And then at the end of the day I did a birthday jump. See, there is a tradition at my school that all first graders must welcome their special day by jumping off a desk while everyone watches. As far as I know, I am the first adult in the history of this tradition to take a jump. But see, I am a very childish adult, so it makes sense! The kids asked me questions about what I was like when I was in first grade. I told them that I liked to draw horses and pretend that I was a horse. There followed a shrieking chorus of "ME TOO!!!!" from the little ladies. Then they sang me the special song:
It makes me think of the good old days,
Happy birthday to you.
You sure grew out of your baby ways,
Happy birthday to you.
26 years old, we wish you many more!
Health and wealth and friends by the score!
Cut the cake and let's eat some more,
Happy birthday to you.
Then they counted by fives to 25, added one, and I jumped.
But the fun didn't end there. That evening Mike blindfolded me and drove me to Linnton for a pre-festivities beer. Let me tell you, the Lamplighter Inn is my new favorite bar. I don't care if it takes 20 minutes to get there! Then we picked up Rebecca and Steve, and I was blindfolded for another long drive. (I was the tiniest bit car-sick by this point.) We ended up in what felt like a cavernous room filled with creepy organ music. The blindfold was removed and:

That's right. I wanted to ride horses, and horses I rode. We got there just in time for the last run of the evening. I picked a white horse with a flowery saddle. It was very pretty. The carousel moved faster than we remembered from our childhoods.
The evening cumulated in a wonderful meal at the very fancy restaurant, Clark Lewis. We did the thing where the chef picks your food and it was goo-ood. Ordinary food is sort of ruined for us now. In between courses the friends gave me presents. I got books, a tee shirt, a Albina Press gift card, and a beautiful necklace. The funny joke was that all of the gifts were presented in ipod boxes. So I kept thinking I was getting an ipod. Like, four times they did this. They thought it was very, very funny to trick me into thinking I was going to get an ipod, and then dashing my hopes. But I didn't feel too dashed because all of the gifts they gave me were so nice, and they had planned such a nice birthday for me, so I sort of felt like the joke was on them. But then when we dropped Steve off at his house he asked us to come in for a minute, and then he "found" one more gift. And it was an ipod. Nano.
OMG.
Right?
Such nice friends I have. Such nice, tricky, surprising friends. And the fun didn't end there. There was an excellent "surprise" karaoke party at the Alibi a few nights later (which a couple of big mouth friends spoiled for me. It's okay though!). Then on Sunday Steve and Mike had planned on taking me on an actual horse ride, but after much searching, they couldn't find a place that was open in the off-season. So there will be more birthday celebrations for me in a few months when the trails dry off. Whew! I also got lots of nice cards and emails and phone calls, most of which I forgot to return. Sorry. It was a really busy weekend! Thank you, thank you dear friends and boyfriend. It's good to be 26.
Posted on February 17, 2006 | Comments (6)

perfect heart is pumping again!
by Willow
Hell yeah!
God bless the Merrill Brothers Three for carrying the heaviest of boxes in the epic Urban Honking server move. It was a dangerous endeavor that apparently involved Brazilian hackers, but they weathered it well and UrHo is up and running again! And not a minute too soon, I say. Every day that my blog was down something happened that I just NEEDED to blog about, but it was to no avail. I just had to wait it out. Liz offered to let me do guest posts on her blog, which was super nice, but it might have been weird to talk about first graders' gluey fingers in a fancy NYC blog. I did dust off my cohort blog for some sweet relief, but really, there's no place like home. Ah... My bright turquoise cyber home. How I have missed your glow!
I will now give a recap of my week "off the grid" or whatever:
* Most notable event that went unblogged: I wore two different shoes to work. Do not adjust your monitors, you read correctly. My mom sent me two pairs of Saucony sneakers for my birthday- one pair navy, one pair lavender. In my rush to get dressed I ended up with one of each on my feet, and I realized much to late to go home and change. I thought my students would lynch me for it. The other teachers thought it was pretty funny. But when morning meeting rolled around and Conner pointed out my mismatched shoes, the response was pretty mild. I told them what happened, and that I was pretty embarrassed. They assured me that I looked really cool, and not to worry. When I said, "wow, friends, I really thought you were going to tease me about this!" they replied that it was not a big deal at all. They wore their shirts inside out sometimes, it was totally mellow. Then when another teacher walked in the room and started laughing at me, they turned on her. "Stop laughing, Kim! Willow looks AWESOME!! She should wear her shoes like that every day!! You're mean!" And that is why my ego is so big.
Okay, to tell you the truth, that wasn't the most exciting part of my offline time. My birthday was last week, and between my sweet students and my awesomest of awesome friends, I was treated like an absolute queen. I would be shortchanging the experience to cram it on the bottom of a long post, so instead I will blog about it tomorrow, with photos and everything. A teaser: my birthday involved a lot of fake-outs.
It's good to be back on the internet.
Posted on February 15, 2006 | Comments (4)

super mario brothers and home waxing debacles
by Willow

Last weekend a few of us went to dinner at Veggie Chinese, and then to Ground Kontrol, this late night video game place. I must admit, I was snobby at first. I thought "late night video game place? NERDY!!" I guess I forgot for a moment that I in fact AM a giant nerd, and thus had a lot of fun. I played Super Mario Bros 1 while sitting at the bar drinking MGD, and it was AWESOME! I beat everyone who played me, and I overheard the bartender telling Jessica that I was really good, and had a "smooth style." Oh yeah. Let me add "Mario 1" to the list of things that I am good at:
1. Mario 1
2. Hula hooping
3. Putting my foot in my mouth (figuratively)
4. Driving
5. Doing the "shimmy"
6. Picking out shoes for myself and others (ask Steve and Mike to testify)
7. Being a bridesmaid
8. Making toasts (arguably)
9. Roller skating
10. Whistling
I'm having trouble thinking of other things. But ten talents ain't so bad, I guess.
*******************************************************************************************************
I'm babysitting the twins tonight, but they've been asleep since I got home, so I've been doing weird things to pass the time. Like, um, cleaning my room. And, uh, waxing my mustache. My barely perceptible mustache. The mustache that every person I know has either claimed not to see, or insisted was "totally mellow." The thing about lady mustaches is, once you even suspect that you have one and it's noticeable, you stop believing your friends. You think they are being nice by swearing to be honest and scrutinizing your upper lip and proclaiming it to be mustache-free. They are just trying to protect you. Secretly they've been praying that you notice it and get rid of it! That's why they had that mustache growing competition and invited you to all their mustache parties! It's like that SNL skit when Rachel Dresch has a 'stache and is clueless as to why she's been invited to be a guest on the "stachin' it" talk show, or whatever. So eventually you buy a home waxing kit and have at it.
I was feeling really optimistic when I got out of the shower and started reading the directions. It seemed easy enough. No heating the wax up, just apply cold and voila! No more hair. I thought that I would start with my upper lip, and then maybe hit my underarms and bikini area. I've been waxed before. It's mellow. Of course in the past professional ladies did the waxing, and they are not clumsy. I am very clumsy. And also not good at beauty stuff. To make a long story short, my lip hurts, it's sort of red, and though it's tough to call it yet, I'm pretty sure my 'stache is still there. I did not get to my underarms. I did not get to my bikini area. I shoved the entire home wax kit in the back of a drawer and shuddered. Apparently I will not be adding "waxing" to the list of things that I am good at any time soon.
Posted on February 1, 2006 | Comments (7)
