Le jour last, part II

Today was my last day of classes in this role… it went beautifully and wonderfully.

I sang my students a very important-to-me song and blessing (ukulele accompaniment and lead vocals by yours truly), and they really got it, and it was clear they felt the love.

I felt the love from them, too.

And I felt how powerful it can be when I approach something with my heart, who I am and doing more and more every day to be who I want to be…

When almost every single freshman left class, and just had to hug me – and I don’t mean lame half-hugs, but genuine love hugs – before leaving, I really began to become present to the positive impact I have had on the lives of all of these boys.

And I am extremely grateful to God for, firstly, the capability within myself, and secondly, for be opportunity with these boys.

Thank you.

Sat baam.

Now, to sleep, because I have events and grading to do this weekend, and I just really want to sleep a while…

Post-a-day 2019

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Oopsie

Today, at the beginning of one of my classes, my students had an oral quiz.

For oral quizzes, they always have to call the same phone number, which is a Google Voice number I chose years ago for this express purpose.

These students had used the Google Voice number before, and most of them just have it saved in their phones, since we use it every time.

A few students, however, did not have it saved today, and so asked for me to write the number on the board.

Okay, sure.

I think about it for a minute, and then write out the number, somewhat confidently and totally surprised – I always have to look it up constantly at the beginning of the school year, and I hadn’t realized that I had re-memorized it again already…, but go, me!

Within thirty seconds, a few students are telling me something…

‘Is that number right?’

‘I think so,’ I reply, ‘but I can check.’

And so I pull out my own phone to go log in and check the number, which is what I usually do in the first place, so it’s no biggie to me.

‘I don’t think that’s the right number,’ others tell me, a sense of assuredness in their voices.

‘Oh, really…?’ I consider…

Suddenly, it hits me: “Oh!… That’s my best friend’s number!” I declare, quickly erasing the number from the board.

Laughing, I put up the correct number, and I marvel at how similar the two are – extremely similar, with just the middle numbers swapped with the end ones.

I shake my head, and I wonder if anyone had already been in the process of leaving a message….!oops

Guess it would be good to give her a heads up… or, perhaps, it would be more fun to leave her with a voicemail of someone praying in French… πŸ˜›

After all, that’s what friends are for, right? πŸ˜‰

Post-a-day 2019

So much for fair…

Can I just say that it sometimes feels totally unfair that certain boys end up having the bodies of men (and girls, the bodies of women) when they are still in the slightly awkward phase of semi-idiocy that is high school?

There they are, prime adult physique, the epitome of evolution doing its darndest to make sure the species continues onward in the world, surrounded by various stages of true boyhood and immaturity, that being physical, psychological, and mental immaturity….. and yet, they look to all onlookers to be men…., ready to stand for a modern Michelangelo or Botticelli…

And, usually, they have no idea the effect they can have on other people.

Sure, some, unfortunately, are harassed by the worst of breeding, and therefore have a sense of something being askew… but, for the most part, they tend only to think of themselves as doing well, as being blessed with good genes and a good bodily development.

The fact that their minds are so far behind makes it hard on the adults around them, and the fact that their bodies are so far ahead makes it hard on the youth around them.

They also, somehow, serve as not so much a reminder, but as a calling out of the fact that so many men these days are not maintaining and hosting such healthy bodies as these man-boys (and the same with women and the woman-girls)… the prime of the physical body is arriving so soon, and lost before they are even fully developed in the brain, it sometimes feels… (for the average, anyway)…

In a way, it is a blessing.

And, in a way, it kind of totally sucks to have to be around…

Anyway…, just some thoughts for tonight.

Sweet dreams, World! πŸ˜‰

Post-a-day 2019

Tattoos

I’ve said plenty of times that I feel as thought our gym is the tasteful tattoo gym… not everybody has tattoos, but a lot do, and a lot have a lot of tattoos… and all of them are quite tasteful.

Today, I had the, albeit brief, pleasure of having one of the guys tell me a little about his various tattoos.

I was enthralled by in the use of lines and textures and shadowing that I hadn’t ever been able to notice from a distance… I was practically lost in the movement that made up a formerly hidden elephant, the shapes and swirls waving a hello, while beckoning me forward, causing my fingers almost to tingle, forcing me to restrain myself from reaching out and stroking it, so much did I desire to test its 2-D-ness.

And yes, this guy is gorgeous, but no, that wasn’t why I wanted to touch every so gently the sweeping strokes of the tattoo – it is merely a tattoo that was so well done, I almost couldn’t help myself.

I love hearing from people who care about their tattoos, why they have their various tattoos – there are so many beautiful little stories that are carried on their skins, and these stories always seem to bring me another little glimpse of what lies within each person…

And I like seeing who’s really there (despite all of our best efforts to keep one another out most of the time), thereby being able to love the true person within.

And isn’t that what we all desire, anyway, to love and to be loved truly and fully?

I suppose being true to ourselves is a good first step, and accepting and loving others as they are a second necessity…

Anyway, I had a lovely time exploring briefly this person’s tattoos today, and, frankly, I want to explore them more (again, not because he’s gorgeous, but because the tattoos are great).

I mean, what’s the point of showing them off so boldly, if hey aren’t meant to be examined and appreciated?

(Because house does one truly appreciate them without examining them closely?)

πŸ™‚

P.S. I, myself, have this gorgeous henna from an event this past weekend, and I love it. πŸ™‚

And yes, I am petting my friend’s cat, who just could not stay off me at night, whenever I was getting ready for bed this past weekend. πŸ˜›

Post-a-day 2019

Hairy

Does anyone else ever feel that men growing out their facial hair, just to show that they are men and not boys – I’m thinking of young teachers or coaches especially, but this applies to more men than just them – is stupid?

It supposedly makes them more manly.

It suddenly occurred to me, walking up to work this morning, that m the female equivalent would be women not shaving their legs and underarms, just to show that they are women and not girls.

By the male standard, then, my not shaving my legs and underarms would make me more womanly, as only a woman could grow such hair – girls just can’t do it the same, you see…

Therefore, I am more respectable, because I have hair on my legs and under my arms…

Or am I?

I certainly call bs on the whole affair, men’s facial hair included.

You are a man, when you are a man, and facial hair’s growing ability does not affect that.

Likewise, you are a woman, when you are a woman, and no hair growth affects that.

Hair is simply hair.

Being a man or woman is independent of such a minute factor, and I just wish people could get that, and stop doing the stupid ‘facial hair makes me look like a man’ thing…, because it typically emphasizes the individual’s youth, creating an opposite effect from that which was desired.

Just my thoughts early this morning, as the sun rose (which, too, is a funny idea).

Post-a-day 2019

Mother-Daughter

“Do you see me ever having kids?”

Mom considers for a few moments, then answers in all honesty, “Yeah,” nodding her head, which is tilted to one side, an after-effect of consideration.

“…I mean,” I whoosh my hands downward together, going from just in front of my chest to around the tops of my lazily outstretched legs, “… having kids.”

We both smile at this as I say, “Which is different from just having kids…”

I have discussed the idea of adoption much, and my mom has participated in some of these conversations, so she knows what I mean, and why I clarified.

We share a few moments of silent chuckling before she renews her, “Yeah,” and then we smile and chuckle silently some more.

We are at my friend’s baby shower.

There have been various games and activities throughout the evening, and she and I are sitting at a table over to the side, mostly away from the current conversation and action of the party.

She is filling in one side of the paper, on which was sentence starters regarding wishes and thoughts we want to share with the baby-to-be.

I have been casually adding to the other side on the paper, on which we had done a baby name game in which we took only letters from the first names of the mother and father, and had to come up with as many names as possible.

Some of mine were just words, but I wrote them anyway, as it helped the brainstorming process along, as well as added a funny aspect to the game.

(Examples of words: Barista, Tank, Narita, Kirin, Stink, Bad)

Though we weren’t in the current action of the party, we were enjoying ourselves, and also enjoying that we got to do it together.

When the gift-opening began, we stood by where we had been sitting, so we could see over people’s heads to the gifts and my friend and her husband, but without actually having to go sit in the mix with everyone else.

Neither one of us discussed this, of course – we each just did it naturally.

I think that part of it is a matter of our being able to comment freely on things, without having to worry about offending anyone, on the likely chance that we find something silly or tacky, or that we are reminded of something absurd.

Even if we each were alone at such a party, we likely still would end up in a similar location relative to the crowd and gift-opening area.

A bit later, just as I was stepping away to go floss-brush-floss to put my aligners back in, I commented quietly to my mom, “I love how, even though no one is here to hear is, we always have a running commentary going on over here.”

Before I’d even said the word ‘commentary’, we were both already laughing silently, but heartily, and she was nodding her head almost vigorously.

But it’s true – we always have a running commentary on things.

No, we don’t say it aloud when it could offend, and no, it isn’t always bad commentary – not at all.

It is merely commentary.

Usually, though, it is commentary that sends us both into fits of giggles at least a handful of times in an evening.

Until last night, I hadn’t realized that my mom and I shared this trait.

Yes, we share many things, and we have many similarities, but I had never noticed this one until last night.

Perhaps it was due to the fact that we had enough to say that we knew at least half the room would not find funny, and so dropped to more of a whisper on several comments, bringing attention for me to the fact that we were doing it in the first place.

And mind you, we don’t have nasty comments we’re exchanging – they just aren’t always event-appropriate.

For example, some people were discussing Disney Princesses and how they have advanced in diversifying the princesses, and how they might advance next.

My friend who is pregnant loves Disney, and had commented about dressing up as a Disney Princess before.

My mom and I exchanged the idea of, ‘Guess she can’t do that right now,’ and chuckled.

‘Yeah, teen pregnancy princess just doesn’t sound right..,’ and our silent chuckles increase, tears now considering making appearances in our eyes…

And then, upon further consideration, we add, ‘Unless Disney wants to take a big step in furthering its diversity, and somehow have a young, super-huge-pregnant Princess…., do a Juno plus Disney Princess… but I don’t think they’re ready for that one yet…’

‘Not for a while…’

Yes, the ideas are absurd.

No, we are not mean-spirited with them at all.

And, since people don’t necessarily know that we are merely brainstorming and thinking of different things, and then simply sharing about them with one another, they could become quickly offended, thinking we are trying to be rude or nasty in some way.

We love Disney and Disney Princesses.

We also know lots about the ideas to progress the diversity of them, and the struggles Disney has had with complaints regarding them.

We support the movement of diversifying the Princesses, but we also love the original Princesses, too, and understand and accept the reasoning behind them all.

We also find humor in just about anything – not in a bad way, but in a genuine way… we do not demean through the humor we find, but typically find increased fondness of the topic after finding that extra tidbit of humor in it.

Anyway, I’ll not bother with the explanations anymore – I notice that I’m worried someone will be offended – I already know that my thoughts offend people, and that’s a big part of why I tend not to share them with most people.

Perhaps that’s how we discover truly the people who love us: by sharing our thoughts with them, and their still showing up in life, without judging us harshly and leaving us out to dry, so to speak.

I’ve said for years and years that judging is natural for us – it is only human.

The difference comes in when we recognize that it is only a judgment, and not necessarily the truth.

At that point, we can choose freely whether to accept the automatic judgement we have made, or whether to set it aside and be open to discovering who and what a person truly is.

When people tell me, “Don’t judge me,” just before they do or say something seemingly silly or stupid or absurd, I often let them know something akin to,

‘I’m definitely going to judge you – I can’t not – but I won’t hold it against you in any way.’

Yeah….

Anyway, I’m off to bed.

I slept half the day today… my mom woke me by knocking on my door at 9am (I’d gone to bed by 11:30pm at the latest), I was tired most of the morning and midday, and then I passed out on the sofa around 3pm, only to wake up to eat some peaches a while later, and then fall right back asleep until around 6pm… and I’m still exhausted right now, struggling to get through this.

I guess my early morning workouts are taking more out of me than I thought, and sleep really is somewhat like a gasoline tank or rechargeable battery, able to be replenished at any time down the road, but demanding refueling after so many days of running on low-power mode… if that makes sense…

Anyway, goodnight, World… hasta maΓ±ana.

Post-a-day 2019

Lacrosse

It came up in a comfortable conversation today – a conversation I had wanted to have and was afraid to have, and which I began anyway – that I coached lacrosse and helped start the women’s program at a school where I previously worked.

The conversation ended with the other person informing me that he would get back in touch with me soon to follow up, and with my now talking with the head of the men’s lacrosse team.

Now, it seems, I might actually become an assistant coach for the men’s lacrosse team this year… how fun and crazy is that?

And all I did was ask about someone’s running these days.

Truly, though, I have faith proven in this case – I felt that it was perfect to go ahead and speak to him, and it turned out to be just that: perfect.

Thank you, God.

Post-a-day 2019