a trio of reflections from my first work week this year:

1)  this is the 3rd of the 4th schools i have worked in that feel it appropriate to engage the faculty in prayer the first day.  how is that okay, really?  is it just because no one's gonna turn them in for fear of becoming tagged as That Asshole Who Hates Jesus?  i just feel uncomfortable on behalf of anyone who doesn't follow a christian belief system.  and uncomfortable because i know it's not right.  why is this okay?  i mean, with all the VA schools i have taught in following this practice, someone somewhere must be giving a green light, right?  or am i just the bigger asshole for being bothered but not voicing my concern?

2)  i am so, so, so over the all-knowing, apple-motif, denim-jumper wearing old lady teachers who think they rule the little elementary school world because they have been teaching the ABCs since the time of noah.  do us all a favor and retire, you prima donna, technology-befuddled, seasonal-sweater-wearing fossils.

3)  did you know that the fabled 'permanent record' really does exist?  at least in VA, it follows you from grade to grade and collects grades and writing samples and state test scores.  it's called your cumulative folder, and is often abbreviated for ease.  it's not so bad when it's said aloud - pronounced CYOOM.  but never will i be unshaken by seeing a note or request for someone's "CUM FOLDER."  seriously?  seriously!

Briefly after naptime Rebekah was playing with her super-big Duplo blocks in her crib. Then a block makes an escape through the slats on the back side of the crib and disappears down the wall. Up rides the cavalry—Daddy—to save the block from beneath the bed. I reach under, grab it and hand it to her, which she readily and graciously accepts.

Then points back to the spot where HER block had disappeared at the back of the crib. Silly Daddy. I appreciate that block, but that one obviously came from underneath the crib and I lost mine back here, so would you mind getting that one please?

I love how her little mind works. She counts now. One, two…four.

Speaking of counting, yesterday Reed told us he was D years old. And that on his next birthday he’d be E. Yes. He’s applied the numbers to the sequential alphabet. Over lunch he exclaimed—aghast—that both Mama and Daddy are “past the alphabet!”

Ah. New ways to feel old…

Oh, and Rebekah put on her own pants today, which, given her recent pants-less wanderings is more reassuring than you’d think.

i spoke to my parents several times this weekend. a usual event, but this time around, they (mainly my father) kept asking 'what was going on?'

this is the type of question i hate, though i use it a lot. how many times have i asked you 'what else?' when playing catch-up? too many. it isn't a secret, just hypocritical.

and the truth?

nothing is going on. the funk i was feeling seems to have washed over and away somehow. i don't feel frustration at the moment wondering what my life is supposed to be, what i am supposed to do to make a difference, overwhelmed by the realization that i am one of millions and millions of humans alive right at this moment. and that, for the history of mankind, the odds are against me in terms of doing anything to impact mankinds path.

whew. no wonder i was having trouble with life.

so what am i doing? what am i up to?

i don't know, honestly. i have been doing a lot of hanging out, meeting people, seeing people, talking, drinking. just letting go.

but that's boring. it doesn't make good stories. or blog posts.

i can't make up for it at the moment, but i can give you two pictures to at least give your eyes something to see:

1. me as the caterpillar in my 5th grade 'alice in wonderland' play. i was already an alice junkie beforehand — i remember walking in and saying i wanted to play the caterpillar or bill the lizard. of course, this was the disney version and there was no bill the lizard. i got the part of the caterpillar and, thanks to the costume my mom made, i rocked the house. i was seriously uncool at this point in my life, but this was a little rainbow that shined through.

2. a portrait taken on the train last week. i have a script on my computer to take a picture with the isight every 30 minutes, dumped into a folder. i haven't done anything with them yet, save posting this one. most are bad and unflattering. this one wasn't, so i figured i'd throw up a recent picture of myself.

but the banana was rotten, thats the gross part.
not really. anyway… here's something i did last night fucking around with my 16mm film projector and final cut.

paris hilton goes to jail
from trevor

guess this means my birthday is coming up. huh. i have no idea what i want for turning 24. sweet Lord Almighty. 24. shouldn't i be all growns up? im in my mid-20s. unmarried. single. no novel. no millions. not even a door. depressing. i am at [a client site i cant legally mention], waiting. having been here for about an hour and a half, this place doesn't seem so bad. in fact, it might be good. but i feel so? still. i think it has something to do with linda. and karen. and anyone else. and anything else for that matter.