No School Blues

Well, I woke up this morning to an e-mail declaring school to have been canceled for the day…

And I was disappointed.

I had actually been looking forward to the day, to being on a schedule, to having to be somewhere, to being able to be with my kids…

And it all was canceled.

What’s worse, I had gone to bed early, and missed getting ran adjustment from the chiropractor while he was in town, because I needed to have enough sleep to be able to get through the day and my workout and everything today…, but school was canceled just as I was going to bed, a while after I had checked my e-mail for the last time…

And then, it didn’t even rain almost at all today – my one consolation was going to be glorious and beautiful rain, and we only had that for maybe an hour this evening, and hardly at all did it even sprinkle during the day(!!!).

Sigh…

Anyway, I still went to the gym at noon, and it was great.

(Although the gorgeous individual was, naturally, absent – why would I expect such good luck on a day like today, anyway, right?… I somehow knew it would be that way, so I was already mentally prepared for that one, anyway…)

I even visited with my mom a while afterward, while she was working in town.

But then I came home and ate and cooked food and ate some more, and watched a movie… I didn’t even go dancing tonight… Instead, I am sitting on my bed, getting ready to go to sleep so that I can get up early for the 9am workout tomorrow…

The only positive part about all of that is that tomorrow’s workout will be my 100th workout since joining the gym.

That’s five and a half months that we have been members at his gym (after tomorrow, that is, of course)… and one hundred classes will have been accomplished as of tomorrow morning at 10am…

Weird for me to consider all of this…, but I’ll give some solid reflection and then dedication to expressing my findings tomorrow, after the workout at some point…., acknowledge how well I’ve done and how far I’ve come and all that Jazz…

Anyway, goodnight…

P.S. On that last note, I was invited to an Astros game today, and the game starts after 6pm tomorrow (aka loads later than I care to have one start), and I actually agreed to go…, so things have definitely changed for me these past several months…

Post-a-day 2019

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Riding the bus with my mother

There are three lots on my block which recently have had their houses demolished.

Two of the lots are nearing the end of construction on their new houses, and the third has, so far, sat empty for a while.

Just about every morning, around 7:30, workers arrive and get to making noise on this, that, or the other part of construction for the two houses.

I have noticed a certain inattention to caution regarding trash and scraps, and so have been quite careful not ever to walk over by either of the houses, as there is an ever-changing blanket of glass, nails, wood pieces, and other sharp objects on the ground by them both.

Today, in an effort to dodge some potholes, my mother drove directly in front of these two houses…

A few hours, a free concert, and almost five hundred dollars later, she had two new rear tires on her car, out of necessity, not desire.

You see, she was picking me up to go to an opera performance, thus her being on my street in the first place.

She had dropped me off to allow me to go use the bathroom and to pick up our tickets at will-call, and gone to park her car, only to discover that the tire pressure, whose warning light had signaled on our way to the performance, was decreasing at an alarming pace, and so needed to be handled immediately.

She told me to leave her ticket at will-call for her, and that she would join me when she could, and then took her car to the one place she found open on a Sunday to handle such issues as her current tire predicament (which, fortunately, was only about a mile away from where we were).

At intermission, she joined me at our seats, her having sat at the back for the first part, due to her having arrived late.

She informed me that she had made it to the performance by asking a woman to drop her off, since it was only about a mile away from where she had had to bring her car.

We laughed at the slight absurdity of it all, and discussed how to get back to the car after the performance ended.

Yes, it was close, but the place would close only half an hour after the performance ended, and my mom wasn’t in running shoes (nor was I).

So, I offered the idea of my spare bus card.

At first, she aimed to find someone we knew after the performance ended, so as to ask for a ride.

Then, she considered Uber (but I was opposed for the cost of it, and the fact that my account isn’t set up properly anymore for here [remember how I lived in Japan]), before reconsidering just asking someone else from the performance whom we didn’t know.

We were running short on time, and I didn’t feel comfortable asking for help, when I had means to handle the situation myself – I’m always rather like that… if I can do it myself, even if it is more difficult, I typically still will handle it myself, so that I only ask for help when I truly need it.

So, I looked up the bus route options, and started walking to the bus stop, which was enough encouragement for my mom to give up her idea and go with mine.

I knew her main opposition was simply the same as most people’s in Houston – most people do not use the busses here, unless they financially have no other means of getting around, making the bulk of bus patronage poor laborers, cleaners, minimum wage people in rough situations, and homeless people…, and that can be an uncomfortable, and almost dangerous-feeling experience for those who do not belong to those groups of individuals…, and it can somewhat easily create a feeling of being somewhere dirty, at times…, so no one wants to ride the busses in Houston…, not really, anyway.

I, myself, struggle with it, despite the fact that I use the busses here… I want to promote public transit as much as possible, but I also prefer feeling safe and clean than the opposite, you know?

Nonetheless, it was our most logical option today (in my head, anyway), so we went for the bus.

Another lady coming from a similar downtown performance also joined us in waiting for the bus, and it was quite cool to me to see another ‘normal’ person, so to speak, taking the bus.

My mom, while waiting, mentioned how she had never ridden the bus here, and that she was a bit excited for it.

I smiled and was glad, and told her how it all worked, and that it was mostly just like any other public transit she had ridden elsewhere (except in Vienna, which has one of the best public transit systems ever, and in all aspects of it).

While riding, she asked about how to signal for our stop, and I explained her two options, however, another woman clicked for our stop first.

I told my mom that she could push the tape anyway, just to have the experience and to know what it’s like, pushing the tape on our busses, and she replied coolly and smiling, “I’m touching enough.”

We had seen a whole range of riders come aboard, including all of the stereotypes, smells and all, but also a few other ‘normal’-esque individuals.

Nonetheless, I understood entirely why she had no interest in touching anything more than was necessary at this point.

When we exited the bus, I rushed off in one direction on my predetermined path to the car place, while covering my gaze to the right hand side, and ignoring my mom’s questioning as to why I was going that particular direction, knowing that she would follow me because of my quick pace.

When we were walking into the driveway of the car place, I slowed and dropped my hand, turning toward my mom and informing her of how I had been avoiding any sort of interaction with the man who had been urinating in the trash can that was next to the bus stop.

No, I had not been certain of that being his task, but it looked to be enough so, and I had no interest in discovering anything further on the matter, and so I blocked it from my view, and headed off with the intention of getting away as soon as was possible.

It is funny to me a bit – perhaps ironic – that my mom has told me so much since I’ve moved back to Houston (from Japan) that I need to be careful here, and that it is not like Japan, and yet she does not herself seem to understand how to be careful when in Houston.

She asked why I hadn’t gone the other way around the block, and I, at first, didn’t understand why she was asking – was it not obvious?

And, of course, it wasn’t obvious, I realized… she had no idea the type of hangout that the area was, nor that more people tended to hang out over by that underpass all along its length, and that it was a better idea for us to avoid it altogether, always.

So, while being a bit nervous at my mother’s lack of understanding as to how to be safe in Downtown Houston, I also was consoled in my own ability to be safe here – without realizing it, I had developed my own appropriate way to keep myself safe here in Houston – that’s part of why I tend not to go out at night.

I typically ride my bicycle or scooter, or even take the bus or walk for getting around anywhere near me, and none of those is a very good idea at night…., so I usually just don’t go.

I had begun to think it was merely because of my anti-social emotional side lately, and my dislike for drunk people, but this had me recall that it is more than just an aversion for stupid people that keeps me in most nights. πŸ˜›

Anyway, my mom picked up her car and was bummed about having to spend the money, as was I, but we were grateful for the bit of time we had been able to spend letting my mom experience a Houston Metro bus, and that, at the very least, the concert itself had been free.

But this did remind me of that time we drove way up north to a special spring to get some free, natural spring sulfurous water straight from the source – the city had it posted that anyone could come have water from it, so long as the sun is up – and then drive back home an hour and a half, during which time my mom commented, “Well, that was the most expensive free water I’ve ever gotten,” referring to the gasoline cost and the tolls crossed for the journey. πŸ˜›

It’s been a bit of a joke of ours ever since then.

And so, today’s performance, one could say, was the most expensive free concert we’ve ever attended. πŸ˜›

(Actually, my mom did say that… haha… I’d forgotten that it wasn’t just something I’d thought, but that seems actually said aloud. πŸ˜‚)

Post-a-day 2019

Le stress

Click* Click* Click* Click*

L’horloge tourne….

Everything seems to be going so fast, yet so slowly right now in my life.

Just as I start to get the hang of some something or other at work, something else comes along to stress me out again…

So, too, in my life as a whole at the moment.

Perhaps this is the world’s way of changing my mind, my opinion, about something…

But it creates so much unreliability in my near future, that I feel terrified all over again, because this back-up plan isn’t panning out so well as a back-up plan…

But, again, just as a new idea presented itself today, so, too, can ideas I’ve never imagined, let alone considered, come to life and to fruition in a short time, leaving it unnecessary to have stressed in the first place.

Actually, I just realized that my initial plan is a good back-up plan for right now, anyway, so I can calm it all down regarding the stress at work – if they dislike me, they dislike me… if I don’t do it the way they want, I don’t do it the way they want… if I need to move onward sooner than expected, I move onward… and something even better awaits me on the other edge of it all…

Ich vertraue dir…..

Post-a-day 2019

Story-time

Staring at the ceiling, slumped backward over the sofa cushion that had been knocked onto the floor at some unknown time in the evening, Ch—- inhales sharply, and releases in a heavy sigh…, “Man…, I wanna do something!” he declares.

“Like what?” responds C—, only half interested in his little brother’s response.

“I don’ know…. just something….”

M—- chuckles from his spot in a chair across the room, resuming his tossing of a Hacky Sack into the air over and over again with the same hand, having abandoned actually standing and kicking it around in the air half an hour earlier… Ch—- always says this.

“It’s not like we can actually go anywhere, anyway, Ch—,” M— reminds him, “seeing as how it’s already nine o’clock and all, and your parents have gone to bed.”

Ch—- is silent for a moment, reflecting, ignoring M—‘s comment.

“I wanna go swimming,” Ch—- says, “That’s what I wanna do: go swimming.

Let’s go swimming, you guys!”

“In which pool exactly?… None are open and, in case you forgot, we don’t have a pool,” C— calmly reminds him.

Silence.

M— speaks up, “Swimming actually would be pretty nice right now.. zI could totally go for a swim.”

Baffled, C— regards him, eyebrows scrunched together, raised.

What?” asks M—, defensively, “I’m just saying I’m not against the idea.”

“Again, where would we be doing this swimming? Nowhere is open.”

“Too bad we don’t live near the ocean – the beach is always open!” Ch— chimes in, somewhat passively.

Silence…

C— turns to look at M—, then slowly tilts his head to one side, eyebrows raised…

M— regards C—, questioning at first, and then raises his eyebrows in recognition, drops the sides of his lips, and raises a shoulder, as if to say, ‘Why not?’

“Whadda you say?” asks C— to M—.

Ch— sits up suddenly, looking back and forth between the two older boys, jaw dropping in disbelief.

M—- smiles.

“Let’s do this,” declares C—-.

The three jump up, and each rushes to grab a few items, including the keys, use a bathroom, eat a quick snack before moving silently and stealthily toward the minivan that is parked in the driveway – their mother’s minivan and the only vehicle C— has started driving since getting his license recently.

An hour later, the trio find themselves on the Galveston beach, Ch— frolicking gaily in the sand at the water’s edge, while the other two take another hit on their unsophisticated and uncaring palates.

Ch— and M— share a drink or two, but they forbid C— from drinking – he is still driving them home later, and even the stupidity of the youth has its limits when dealing with genuinely smart and somewhat self-aware teenage boys.

By three a.m., they are careening back toward Houston, searching for a gas station with a vacuum to clean out C— and Ch—‘s mom’s minivan – it is filled with sand, though no one quite remembers when or how it all got in there – the haze of the fun was kind of in the way for them.

Eventually, they find it, and somehow manage to clean the minivan up really well, returning it to its nighttime place in the driveway.

Finally back home, the boys head silently into the back of the house, and lapse into total unconsciousness in the form of sleep.

It is five a.m.

At seven, their mom wakes up, and heads off to work, leaving the boys to their usual sleeping in routine, unconcerned.

When, after a week, no parent has mentioned anything, the boys begin to believe fully that they actually away with it.

And, somehow, they did

Post-a-day 2019

First day of school nightmares

Walking onto campus this morning, I had a sudden concern that I was wearing the wrong clothing – it wasn’t actually our last training/in-service day, but, rather, the first day of school… and that meant that blue jeans were not welcome…

I thought really hard on it for a couple or few seconds, and determined that no, it was not the first day of school – the boys really are just dressed up to come take their photos for their school IDs and the yearbook; that’s why they’re here at all, even.

Phew!

What a relief that was to be clear on…

And it had me recall the idea of the horrible dream of showing up in a terrible outfit, possibly one akin to the Emperor’s New Clothes, or being late, and jus my generally being horribly embarrassed on the first day of school by getting something terribly wrong somehow… and how, as a teacher, that fear-filled dream never real goes away.

I still tend to have a nightmare-ish dream before the first day of school.

Typically, I forget the first day of school, and so show up way late and wearing the wrong clothes and utterly unprepared for classes, somewhat in a dual daze and panic…. this morning was almost the real-life version of that dream… fortunately for me and everyone else, it was not.

I’m curious as to what dreams will come tonight to me… we shall see… (probably, anyway, though we’ve no guarantee I’ll have any or will remember what I have)… πŸ˜›

Post-a-day 2019

Eyes

Do you know that experience of when you can’t seem to stop yourself watching someone, looking at him/her?

There are many versions of this, but I am referencing a particular happy yet unidentifiable one…

You don’t necessarily know what exactly it is that has you looking, but you can’t seem to stop checking up on the person, making sure he’s still around… you purposely make yourself not do anything differently in terms of seating arrangements or activities – you pursue your same goals and intentions, free from whatever this influence happens to be – but you keep an eye always knowledgeable about his whereabouts within the room…

And then you notice that his eyes are on you roughly half the times you look over at him… and you wonder if he even knows that he is doing it, or if he is only responding to the feeling of being watched…, or if he can’t seem to keep his eyes from tracking you either…

It doesn’t happen often in my life, so I a no expert at the situation, I dare say…, but I’m not opposed to it at present.

I also have no romantic intentions here, so it is extra unique to be having this drawing feeling… perhaps it is God, merely making it clear that this person is to be in my life, albeit not in a romantic capacity…

Yes… perhaps…

Post-a-day 2019

Loved by the meeting

I lie on my bed, towel wrapped around my head, body drying casually via the fan by my bed, and eyes burning slightly due to a combination of fatigue, dehydration, a bit of crying earlier, and a brimming feeling of crying a bit again now.

I cannot yet determine why I do much care… so what, if they don’t like me and don’t want to keep me?… and, even if they asked me not to stay, so What??

That’s the answer I currently am seeking…, but I am beginning to wonder if I actually want an answer to it, or if fear has me avoiding actually looking to find an answer.

And so, let us see this together, phone keyboard and screen and I…

If I am rejected in any of these forms, I perceive it as my being not good enough for being loved…. period, I think…

Yeah – it would mean that not only do they not value and love me, but no one else would either… and then I would not be able to live anymore, as love is necessary for life.

Okay, so, …. so much rejection is painful right now… the dating app nonsense has me on edge about being loved already, and this makes it more so…

I want to be loved and wanted, because being wanted, for me, is a form of being loved dearly… and being unwanted is being unloved…

I want to go to these meetings, because I thoroughly believe they will help to make me a better teacher and a better person.

I believe it is important for me to attend the meetings.

They, somehow, do not agree, for whatever reason or reasons, we’ll say.

So, I don’t get the ideal circumstances for beginning the school year, then… it would be as though I were asked in the middle of the year to take over, as has many times already been the case…

If they want me absent from the meetings, so what?… this isn’t my home… not yet, anyway… (and my home would have me attend, if I expressed the desire)…

Okay… that helps… this is just a passing point – there is a lesson (possibly hundreds of lessons) to learn here, and then I will move on to the next thing, the next lesson, and possibly even the application of what I will have learned from this lesson…

Yeah…

I also dislike being treated like only a half-teacher, or whatever this is – I am a real teacher, and that’s why you’re hiring me to come teach, even if it is only for a temporary time.

You want me… you are depriving me…

It is your school…, not mine… I can only give what you’ll allow me to give…

Yes, that’s it… stop fooling around, Banana… I can only give what they will allow me to give, so give what they’ll allow, and pray and intend for better and better each time.

For now, I’ll rest for the night, and I’ll see how things feel in the morning.

I can do this, or course… it merely would be a deal easier if they would let me do it this way… yep.

Okay, sweet dreams.

Goodnight.

Post-a-day 2019