Freight Train Runnin' thru the Middle of My Head

The dark side of the moon
It's somewhere past 7 a.m., and I'm thinking non-stop about my students. Bite of oatmeal. Worry about student. Drink of water. Worry about student. Didn't sleep more than 4 hours last night; couldn't turn my brain off. Last week, we did skits in class (a la Saturday Night Live en espanol). One of the groups did theirs about 3 friends hanging out on the dark side of the moon and making plans to take a dip in the "Mar de la serenidad" (Serenity Sea). The Spanish was garbled, the vocabulary was limited, but the idea was just beautiful. I tried to picture what Serenity Sea would look and feel like last night as I painfully attempted to force myself to sleep. But all I kept picturing was the class roll, all-too neat rows and columns staring at me. I wish I could just teach for fun, and enjoy my students, instead of having to worry about all the paperwork. Just like the repeated fantasty that one of my colleagues and I have of magic homework elves stealing into our offices at night to mysteriously grade all our papers, I guess it's a pointless wish.

Flannel shirt
I have been a busy little social bee this weekend, even though Jason is out of town. And I do miss him terribly, but he'll be back tomorrow!! Last night, I had dinner at Trish's new apartment. She made some yummy yummy food full of veggies, cheese (one of my favorite things ever discovered by humankind), and all-around goodness. I've spent the day trying to clean my house and prepare for a week of teaching. It seems that the day is slipping by me, though. It's now dinner time, and I've barely touched my to-do list. But the laundry's done. And I did get to talk to one of my oldest and dearest friends in the whole wide world, Kevin, who is entirely too far away from me in Pasadena. We talked about how much emotional energy it takes to keep in touch with and even talk to some of the people we used to be really close to. Kevin isn't one of those people, though. Talking to him is like coming home. It feels like we just spent the whole lazy Sunday on his dorm room floor watching the Breakfast Club and other slices of nostalgic heaven. That's Kevin: warm, comfortable, and trustworthy like a favorite flannel shirt from your grunge period.

I just got floor, center stage tickets to the Springsteen show in Kenan Stadium!!!!!!!!!! Check out the seating chart: we're section F5, row 23. Best seats I've ever had for any show, except maybe the Pearl Jam show in Toledo, OH when we got fan club seats, but even they were on the side, not in front of the stage. Of course, the insane price of these tickets means this is my birthday, anniversary, and Christmas present all in one. But it'll be sooo worth it!

Waking up from a brilliant night's sleep after hiking for almost 2 hours with Jean, Justin, and Justin's dad. This hike at the Oconochee Trail in Hillsborough had a bit of everything: shady woods, sunny fields, gravel roads, dirt paths, rocks to climb (if you dared, which Justin did but we didn't), potentially dangerous cliffs that could collapse at any given second (Justin and Jean bravely ignored that warning sign and went to the lookout anyway). There were a few views down, although sometimes you had to squint through the trees. There were a few views up, including one of the rockslide cliff that was really cool. We could've gone down to the Eno river, but by the time we figured out how to do that, we decided to head back. What we didn't know was that the hike back to the car would be longer and harder than the first part of the hike that we had already done. It was a great time. Good conversation, good sweat, good to be in nature. This was followed by a fantastic grilled veggie dinner, some strawberry Maple View Farms ice cream, and more good conversation. Aaaahhh. In the car on the way home, Justin's dad commented that it's "some life" we lead (being able to hike on a Friday afternoon, hanging out with friends, etc.). I've been thinking about that, too. It is incredible the happiness, lack of hardship, and general privilege that we have access to. It makes me feel very lucky, and very content with life right now.

Glory Days
Alright, truthfully, I'm fighting the urge to get down to Kenan Stadium tomorrow, tent, sleeping bag, and Luna bars in tow. I mean, I'm really fighting it. So far, I'm winning. But the score is like me 5, urge 3. Full disclosure: I wept when I first saw this guy walk onto the stage. I was sort of overwhelmed, touched by being there, moved by having Jason with me at that moment, just plain crazy...I'm not sure what it was. This has never happened to me before or since. I do not cry at movies, not over books, and I certainly didn't see myself as one of those girls in the old footage of Elvis or the Beatles. I am so far from an icon worshipper that I actually studied this phenomenon in my dissertation. I should be able to deconstruct it by now. But, in spite of myself, I cried. I cried again when he did "You're Missing" from The Rising (which was clearly robbed for the Grammy). I feel his words in some sort of bizarre way. I don't even have the energy to try and explain it, because it is too personal. One thing is for sure: I don't feel the need to apologize for the fact that it is, as Jack Black's character (Barry) in High Fidelity would point out, entirely too obvious to like him. It is not very creative or rebellious to be a Bruce fan. But his music makes me feel. That is all I care about. And if I'm merely one of the 3 million people who have bought tickets to his show this year, then so be it.

If I talk myself out of the Kenan lineup, you can be sure I'll be on Ticketmaster's site at 9:55 Saturday morning. With a ton of other people.

Back in the saddle again
Taught my summer class for the first time yesterday, and it went surprisingly smooth. Lucky me, I only had 7 students, including one teenager who's taking a college course this summer simply because she wants to learn the language. The bad news is, they are really behind (this is Spanish 2). The good news is, they are extremely nice people and seem willing to roll up their sleeves and get to it. My biggest challenge right now is the time issue. I've been staying up late and sleeping late, and suddenly I have to drag myself out of bed at 6:45 to be ready in time for class. Then, I have to be in the classroom for a solid 3 1/2 hours. When you're used to 50 minute periods, 3 1/2 hours seems like a mighty long time. I can only imagine how the students feel. I wonder who feels worse? Probably them. I'm approaching day #2 and wondering if any late stragglers will show up. I hope not...7 students is a dream come true, especially when you're used to 28 or 30 students crammed into a classroom that barely holds them all.

Some things change...
Today I turned in my "TA" office key and got my "Professor's" office key. Weeeeeiiiirrrrdddd. I can get file folders and post-it notes for free. Wwweeeeeiiiirrrrddd. I can direct independent studies. I get a big mailbox all to myself. I get a whole filing cabinet all to myself, and not just one crappy drawer that barely opens. I have access to a printer for free. I even have a phone in my office! WWwwhhheeeee!!! Like a kid at Christmas time!

In other news, I absolutely love living in this place full of smart people. It is so fantastic to be surrounded by intelligent, interesting folks who read, think, question, wonder about crazy things, have opinions that differ from mine, and challenge me to explain and understand myself better. I feel like I learn every single day from the people around me. I'm absorbing things, turning them over in my head, kicking some ideas out and putting others in. I love talking about everything, big and small, with these smart people. They make me happy.

Paella, anyone?
A few people are coming over tonight, and we're attempting to make paella, one of Spain's truly great contributions to the culinary universe. We even have the saffron from Spain, which I bought a few years ago in Madrid for an unbelievable steal. I also bought a real paella pan at the mercado in Valencia, home of the best paella in the world (in my opinion). Unfortunately, I didn't plan ahead. I only bought a small one (for two people), so we're going to have to improvise this time. Paella in a wok??

BTW, Donnie Darko was fantastic. Rent it! Watch it! And then tell me what the hell it means! I mean, I have my theories...but still, I'd love to hear what everyone else thinks.

What do you mean, you don't know what Quidditch is?
Last night was an all-out geek-a-thon. Last night, it was truly hip to be a geek, and the geekier the better. I found out that nothing tugs on my heartstrings like a 6-year-old cutie pie with plastic Harry Potter glasses on top of his real (nearly Harry Potter-esque anyway) specs, full-fledged black cape, and wizard hat. Followed closely by the unbearable sweetness of an 8-year-old toting a nearly 1,000 page tome like it was a box of Lucky Charms with a prize inside. And a chubby, freckled kid (could this be my kid someday???), maybe 10, bending over a stack of books so big it towered over him and threatened to topple at any moment.

Woman: Can I sit here? (It was quite crowded, everyone breathlessly awaiting midnight.)
Kid: Sure.
Woman: What are you reading? (stares at what looks to be at least a 500-page book)
Kid: I just picked it up. Thought it looked interesting.

Aaaahhhh. All I could do last night was smile. Was it worth it, standing in line, waiting for our number to be called, being in all that mayhem for a silly book? Hell yes. My soul is rejuvenated. The world feels good. It feels good to be a part of the world. Of course, now I have to wait in line inside my own home to actually read the damn book we went through such craziness to get, but that's okay. Jason is a fast reader.

Gotta do more, gotta be more!
Remember that line from one of my favorite movies, Dead Poets' Society?
I'm repeating that to myself over and over these days, hoping I can get motivated to work again. Its not really having any effect so far. Anybody got a cattle prod?

But, As proof that I've done something besides eat and sleep this summer so far, a powerhouse textbook publisher has just accepted the web activities I wrote for a new Intermediate Spanish book to be out soon. No corrections to do. Finally...my name in academic lights! (Sort of. Its not Harvard UP, but hey, its something.)

Life is goooood when you can hang out at a bar called Hell playing really bad pool and drinking Newcastle on a Tuesday night because your friend just finished her 358 page dissertation. Congratulations, Amy!

I started tutoring today, someone who just graduated from Harvard and wants to go to medical school. He correctly realized that speaking Spanish is becoming more and more important in the medical profession, so that's where I came in. This guy is extremely nice, although he keeps me on my toes.

Started trying yoga, an idea I've toyed around with for a while. I knew I would look silly and graceless falling out of the poses, and I've always been embarrassed by the fact that I can't even bend over and touch my shins, let alone my feet. So I borrowed a beginner's tape from a friend and so far, so good. No injuries to report.

On the bad health front, though, I found out that my seven-year-old niece, Courtney, is having surgery to remove a goiter on my birthday. Horrible coincidence. How does a little kid have a goiter? Isn't that something old women have? I try to reassure my grandmother and my mother that doctors can do anything these days (or so I tell them), that things will be just fine. But that doesn't stop us all from feeling sorry for Courtney and for worrying a little bit. This poor child already has asthma, glasses, has had her tonsils taken out, and now a goiter. I'm healtier than she is, and I'm pushing 30. Pobrecita.

Since I have no life and thus nothing to blog about, I'll just give you a little suggestion for your 4th of July fun. Run, don't walk, to your nearest grocery or drug store and pick up some Star-Spangled Peeps (which the company stupidly calls Patriotic Peeps...don't you like the ring of Star-Spangled Peeps better?? I know I do). If you're like my friend Travis, you'll want to stock up on these delectable, nationalistic treats now so you can enjoy them on July 4, 2004--after they've ripened. That's right, my friends: Peeps ripen. I didn't know this either until Trav, in all his wisdom, taught me the trick: put the new-born Peeps, opened, in a container and wait for about a year. Be patient. Talk to your Peeps once in a while. Don't water them. They don't even need sunlight. Although they never become full-grown sugar chickens, unfortunately, they do harden to about the lovely consistency of those yummy marshmallow-esque thingies in Lucky Charms. Mmm Mmm Good. So screw the fireworks, people! And in case you like them unripened, go ahead and put a Star-Spangled Peep in the microwave and let the fun begin!!!

I was all prepared to come home and blog brilliantly after a marathon errand day (out 8 hours: haircut, Staples, Target, dinner, Lowe's, groceries...and screw you guys, I'm not linking all those places. Google, damnit). But here I am, exhausted and totally distracted. So instead of my usual gripping narrative, I'll just tell you what I'm distracted by.

We popped in a new-found DVD, Ryan Adams' Music in High Places, apparently part of a series done by the Grammy people and shown on MTV at some point. If you don't know who Ryan Adams is, he's the former frontman for Whiskeytown and the guy who sang that song "New York, New York" that was on MTV for a bit just after 9/11 (coincidentally, I think...but maybe not). Now, before you say "Crap, I hate that song..." let me tell you, it's one of his least exciting. Kinda hard to choose my favorites, but maybe "Nuclear," "To Be Young (Is to Be Sad, Is to Be High)," "Firecracker," "Gonna Make You Love Me," and "Starting to Hurt." Yeah, yeah, its a long list. Of the three albums--Heartbreaker, Gold, and Demolition--Heartbreaker gets the most critical acclaim. But it is HEAVY--sad as hell, as you could guess from the extremely appropriate title. Demolition is a little more groovy. BTW, he's from right here in North Carolina. He is probably my favorite contemporary musician/singer/songwriter, because he's full of surprises and always makes me feel something. His music is transcendent sometimes, literally capable of transporting you to deep, dark places or, other times, to techno-color sites of pure, raw beauty. Hard to explain: a bit alt country, a bit blues, a bit pop, a bit folk. One helluva poet, a good guitarist, and a mean harmonica player. One more tid-bit, if you're still not enticed...he was featured on NPR several months back. So, the moral of this long and winding blog is: get some Ryan Adams and immerse yourself in it, and I promise you won't be sorry. Unless you're a dumbass.

My new hero is Jean. Trachtenburg Family Slideshow Players? Hmmm...could be an experience, we said when she mentioned their upcoming show. We bought tickets. We dragged our asses to the Cradle. I laughed so hard I left myself on the club floor and floated above the tightly-packed crowd, realizing only afterwards that if this sweet, geeky family had wanted to start a cult right then and there, I would have signed up with glee. This morning, as I reluctantly pull myself out of bed, I can't help but play with the words "genius" and "revolution." But as I blog this, its another slow morning with the Honey Nut Cheerios, a chance of rain, and an unenticing to-do list.

How did it get to be 5:00?? I haven't done anything today. Well, I walked for about 45 minutes, had lunch with my friend Tacia at the Carolina Coffee Shop (yummy veggie burger), and caught up with a friend of mine whom I hadn't seen in about 2 weeks. And updated my Netflix rental queue (what a weird-looking word, "queue"). As I blog this, I'm also chatting with my friend Bridgette in Spain. So, have I been unproductive? How should you define "productivity"?

Hey, I don't have blog links up yet, but here's a fun one from my friend Matt in the Big Apple: 'Til the Cows Come Home. He's a trip!!

Today I'm peeling and itching...molting, if you will. Pretty disgusting. I'm also back in the academic saddle after some glorious time just being. The kind of time when people ask, "So what have you been up to?" and you honestly can't answer. Good stuff. Today I'm trying to read a cultural studies book that outlines theories of "subjectivity" (aaaarrrrggggh). And I'm gearing up to teach lower-level Spanish again, something I haven't done for a while now. I'm still in summer mode, though, so we'll see how much I actually accomplish.

Check out pictures from graduation. Finally put some on-line: www.unc.edu/~sandlin/graduationpics.html

Back from St. Augustine, complete with heinous sunburn. The worst is that tender bit of skin just above your armpit, which is now a purplish-red crescent that hurts every time I lift my arms. It makes all kinds of simple things hard...like showering. Funniest repeat comment today? "Oh my God, where did you go? You look tan!" (Ha ha...the freckles have run together! Haa haaaaaa)

St. Augustine is a really neat town, for those of you who have never been. Its a little overwhelmingly touristy (cheesy ghost tours, the Fountain of Youth, tons of souvenir places selling alligator heads, trolleys and horse drawn carriages). But, the place still reeks of Spanish culture from the 16th century. As my friend Travis commented, even on vacation, I'm soaking in "Spanish stuff."

The gates of the "Old City," first settled by the
Spanish. The whole place used to be walled in, in typical medieval Spanish fashion.

The Bridge of Lions

El Castillo de San Marcos, an old Spanish (and then British)
fortress.

Used to be a luxury hotel, now its a private college. Unbelievable
this place. Has a God-awful collection of Tiffany glass, and the students still
dine on hand-carved chairs worth over $4,000. No kidding.

A view of the city, from the lighthouse. Gorgeous!