charlobo-a-go-go

I was reluctant to post a resolution because I haven’t even really picked one. Or two. Or three. I just went into the new year thinking that, well, I hope I remember to write 2010 on my checks.

really? who writes checks anymore? i do, jerks. although they’re not frequently written.

Anywhoo, I figured I should think of something because it’s mid-January, and I should start my year off with some productivity. Automatically, I’m going to throw out diet because THAT’S WHAT EVERYONE DOES. And if you know me, I’m not trying to do what everyone else does. Although I may want to because my mom, god bless her, said to me this morning “Maybe you shouldn’t go in Petites anymore.” FML.

What is it about Filipino moms and the not-so-direct route? It’s not subtle, it’s quite overt. It’s not even remotely gentle. It’s a slap. Wow. Thanks. Okay, so back to my resolutions.

Here’s what I’ve come up with:

1. Don’t complain - be grateful. In this day and age, it’s real easy to say, FM Boss or my husband is a tool. But it’s also really important to say I am grateful that I have a job. Or my boss could be a total jerkface when this one is quite pleasant. Or at least my husband isn’t a cheating douchebag. It’s reframing. And it’s also reality.
2. Write more. Voila, bitches.
3. Follow through on my projects. Not that I haven’t been, but I want to be able to have my year of creativity vibe back. It was the whole purposeful thing that I miss. I have some cool stuff down the pipeline that I’d like to make real. BRL book #2. Photography. BRL websites.
4. Cook. Christmas present? Kitchen Aid Stand Mixer. Holy shit, it’s so on.
5. Meditate. I’d love to make this one legit.

So there you go. Five easy ones. It’s not cause they’re easy that I’m doing them, it’s because it’s important, and it’s gonna be done, hon.

Char

Table for 20?

I trucked the Little Family out to Richmond/Pinole (I never know which one it is) for dinner with some friends. It was a no-brainer. Something we’ve done as friends for a few years. I don’t even remember when/where we started.

All I know is that it’s always a good time, and all I know is that these are the ties that bind.

The holidays leave me thinking…leave me wondering about what’s coming up or what’s next in my life. The New Year brings loads of resolutions, reflections, and moments whereupon I wonder what new challenge to take on or what thing to redo. As you can tell, I’ve decided to retake up blogging on a more deeper level than the 140 I’ve been giving you. No, you’re welcome.

Anyway, for the last few days I’ve been playing full-time moms; my folks have been away and I have some time off from work. It’s been nice. Busy, but nice. It’s wonderful to see Bambina do Bambina things. Fun to see Husbandido do Husbandido things (pass out in Bambina’s tent…wtf). I’ve lost track of days - I don’t even know what the numeric date is. 2nd? 4th? Monday? Life is delicious like that.

But my routine is still there. Wake up a little early, quality time with Bambina, make coffee for Husbandido, feed parrot. Watch hours upon hours of Sprout. Do Wiggles dances. Geez. No, I wouldn’t trade it for the world. It seems simple, uncomplicated. I read books (A Thousand Splendid Suns, The Lovely Bones, Beautiful Struggle, Mountain Man Dance Moves, all the Twilight Books…all in the last month). It’s simple. I tweet. I read updates. Barrel through my RSS feeds. I move through the day fluidly. Certain days it feels languid.

But without the pressure of work and the constant need to produce and serve others, I’m turning inside to listen to myself more and find out not just resolutions, but revolutions and reflections. Three R’s? Maybe.

I am reeling from a friend’s passing. Just a few days ago. I don’t even know how to talk about it or how to put it out there other than this. Over dinner we talked about it in hushed terms, that rawness making it hard to say more than, wow. This whole post, this is the paragraph that I am literally staring at the screen trying to figure out what to say.

Sometimes you don’t have to say anything.

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Last week I had the honor of working graduation with my colleagues, much as we do every single semester. 800 graduates, 6 guests each. You can do the math.

My role is somewhat limited to helping getting people robed and ready to rumble. I also get to line folks up, walk them through what they will be doing, and guide the occasional late comer to their seat. It happens often.

I get the honor of taking the tassle out of the eyes of the graduates. It’s a wrist flick I do that leaves me a little sore at the end of the day, but every single graduate who walks up on the stage gets the flick. A small role.  But one I love to do. Some are gracious and say thanks, and for the first time, someone wanted it in their face. Okay, player.

In the audience for one of the three ceremonies was a familiar face. I was finished walking through the first graduate what their paces would be, and I saw her. A nun. Blue. White headband. Her face registered with me immediately. Her hair was lighter than usual, but her smile was still there. I leaned over one pew and said, “Sister Anne Marie?” And as soon as the words left my mouth I knew I was wrong. “Sister Cristina,” she said.

My 8th grade teacher.

I snuck over to her pew between some columns and told her in gushing terms how I thought she was an amazing teacher. All the things I remembered, her putting crosses at the top of my papers. Her kind way. Her smile. Her patience with a smart ass kid from the other side of the tracks. Her guidance. Her peaceful way. I was in awe of her as a kid, and to an extent I still am. I thanked her profusely, and told her she was an inspiration to me as a teacher. Yes I was a smart ass, yes I often got in trouble, but I worked my ass off to be the best I could academically and I didn’t slack in that department. She always encouraged me to work hard. For her I did just that.

She noted my gown (I’m required to wear one for work these days), and asked me if I was going to get my doctorate. I told her I already had one. Almost 10 years now.

She said, “You certainly look like you’ve come a long way since then.”

I have.

I became a teacher largely because I have teaching in my blood…my family has generations of teacher. I hope I’m good enough to do it, and one day I hope someone finds me in the crowd somewhere and tells me Thanks. I guess that’s what’s makes teaching worth all the hard work, and that’s what makes investing even a few moments of the day to a kid can make the world of difference because in my life it certainly did.

I teach because I know there are kids out there who are hearing the wrong things - that they are not good enough. That they are in the wrong place. That they are a mistake. You think I’m playing? I teach because I can give those kids the time and energy and effort. And more often than not that’s all it takes. You can water a plant, but you gotta give it some sun to make it grow.

In the end I ran off to get my card in my office to give to her. I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye because that’s the territory. Busy, running around, and so focused that it’s hard to remember all that you have to do in such a situation, but I’m so glad I had the chance to say thanks. I’m so glad I had the chance to have a wonderful teacher. It helped me to have a good template to follow when it became my turn.

Char