Pardon Me While I Vent

Okay, I can't stand keeping this to myself any longer. Today, my school ended up being closed, not due to the weather or the poor road conditions---things were much worse last week and we still held school. No, my district had to utilize a "snow day" because a large quantity of their buses refused to run early this morning. My district is so large that it has to use a staggered bus schedule, so we either have school or we don't; there are NO delays.

Now, last Friday was the final day of the grading period, so I should have spent some time this weekend working on my grades as well as my grad school work, however, due to the fact that I was having some kind of mental misfiring on Friday, I neglected to bring all of my grading materials and info home with me this past weekend. I decided it was no big deal, I'd get all of my other stuff done and dedicate Monday night to recording grades. Well, we had no school today and my materials were still at school.

So, instead of sleeping in, I got up and went to school, hoping that the custodian would be there to let me and get what I needed. Sure enough, I was in luck. I walked past the office to go down to my classroom when I noticed a student sitting on the bench. It was one of our 1st graders. I asked him what he was doing here and he said his Mom had dropped him off. The custodian later told me that his mother had dropped him off and had driven off before she could inform her there was no school. (A fact that was broadcast over the radio and local tv stations.) The custodian had tried contacting the boy's mother on her cell phone, using the number the student had given her, but his mother hadn't answered or recturned the call. So, I got out his emergency card to look for other numbers. The home phone number was disconnected, so I went to the next number which turned out to be his Grandmother's phone number. I called and spoke to his Uncle who agreed to come and pick him up.

The entire time I was there, the phone in the office kept ringing with callers asking if school had been canceled. I politely responded that it had. Other people were calling to inform the office that their children would be arriving late, where again, I politely informed them that school was closed. Then I got the call that kinda made me go, "What the F*&# people, pull your head out!" The woman on the line said that she had seen on the tv that school was closed and she was wondering if we were on a delay or if we were open. I thought to myself, "What the hell does she think CLOSED means?" before telling her that we were closed for the day. Another caller asked me how long we were going to be closed. My answer---All day. She then inquired if we'd be closed tomorrow. I informed her that as far as I knew, schools would be closed for today only and that she'd have to keep an eye on the news regarding any additional days. "What the hell? I'm the Art teacher, not the weather man!", I thought after hanging up the phone.

I was beside myself in dumbfoundedness. I mean first of all, what kind of parent just drops their child off at school on a cold winter morning, a school that apparently looks quite deserted compared to any "normal" day, and just drives off without making certain their child safely enters the building? What kind of parent clearly sees that the school district has been reported as being CLOSED, yet calls to see if we're open or delayed? The same parents I gotta assume who generally use school as free daycare for their children and don't really feel the need nor take the time to actually get involved with their child's education, or who just don't have any common sense at all.

Then, the kicker is, I'm driving back home with my grading materials perched on the front seat of my vehicle when I notice two of our students walking down the sidewalk toward school. One of them is wearing a backpack I notice as I'm driving past them. Making sure the road is clear, I make a U-Turn and drive back towards them. I roll down my window and ask the oldest student if they're walking to school, to which he replies in the affirmative. I glance at the clock; it's after 9:30 and school starts at 9:00. Had this been a normal day, they'd have surely been at least half an hour late---they were walking slow and they'd have been given some sort of breakfast before being ushered to their classrooms. I informed them that they needed to turn around and head back home because there was no school today.

Thank God I had a Mom that actually cared about me. She made sure whether school was closed or not, made certain we had something for breakfast before going to work and if the weather was bad, either dropped us off or made arrangements with a reliable neighbor to carpool to school rather than walk. It drives me nuts that there are so many thoughtless and selfish people out there who enjoy the babymaking process so much that they don't consider the consequences. Nor do they take precautions to prevent having children, who I assume they care about only when it's CONVENIENT, otherwise they'd be staying on top of things a hell of a lot better than they are. End of Rant.

...And the Pursuit of Happiness

That's going to be the title of one of the stories I have percolating inside my head. Or quite possibly, it will be the title of my autobiography. It seems THAT is the primary quest I seem to be on. It's rough man, not just for me but for everyone that's in perpetual pursuit of that evasive, oft times fleeting state of being.

I am NOT about to sit here and make believe that I have it any worse than everyone else, I certainly am not that egocentric, nor deluded. It's tough all over. And I'm certain someone will read this (that is of course assuming there are other people out there reading this besides the two confirmed individuals, one of which being myself)and think, "Geez, that's nothin. This guy's got it easy compared to the shit I've gone through." No, my intention in writing this is to gather the information I have gathered and floating around inside my brain and hopefully gain some insight into what I'm doing, where I'm going and whether I'm headed in the right direction; to possibly help someone else out who's going through something similar or sees a bit of themself reflected in me; or maybe even to once and for all exorcise some demons and lose some baggage in the process. Who knows, I'm just gonna type this thing out and see where it takes me.

Happiness. Man, what a subjective term. What IS Happiness? What causes it? Where do you find it? How do you sustain it? Hell, everyone's definition of Happiness is gonna be different. But that has to be everyone's first step in finding Happiness. They must define what it means to them first and foremost. So, I've spent a great deal of time working on that, trying to figure out what Happiness is. I used to think Happiness was this thing that I could attain, or this destination that I could reach, but it's not quite that simple. If I could just find someone to love me, if I could have a successful career, a nice car, a nice home and on and on. But that's just superficial Happiness. Once I realized that defining Happiness was more complicated than I initially thought, I began to worry. How could I BE happy if I can't even settle on a definition?

So, I pursued my various notions of what I thought Happiness was and what things would make me happy. What a rough and rocky road THAT can be, right? It seemed like I found more about what Happiness WASN'T than what it actually WAS---LOL. Happiness (for me anyway) is NOT simply being in a relationship. God, I can't believe I thought once I found a girlfriend I would automatically be happy. Happiness isn't being in a relationship; it's finding the RIGHT one to be in and even then it takes a great deal of sustained effort, trust and a little bit of luck just to maintain it. Some people find that sort of thing comes easily, but for me, it's always been a hardship. Happiness isn't just finding a successful career, but finding a career you enjoy, being successful is just a bonus. However, the enjoyment, the passion, HAS to come first. So I spent a great deal of time figuring out what Happiness actually is or isn't. I still am actually, it's an ongoing process.

With my work on defining Happiness in full swing, I then proceeded to pursue just where I could find it and what I would need to do to get it. Easier said than done. It's not like there's such a thing as a Happiness Store. If there was, there'd be chains of them all over the world. Does Happiness come in a bottle? Is it found in a pill? Do I find it in a bar or at a club or am I gonna need to search the want ads or join a service? Argh! It's maddening. I can't possibly turn over every stone?

Then it hit me. Through my exhaustive searching and all the trial and error experimenting I've been doing (and continue to do for that matter) I came to a couple conclusions. Happiness is kinetic, it's always changing or evolving. Why? Because so am I. Which leads me back to where I find Happiness. I think that true Happiness must first always come from within. I don't know why I hadn't arrived at that sooner. It seems so obvious to me. Happiness is more about an internal state of being than it is a reaction to the external. Can one really achieve Happiness without first being happy with themselves? And once that question has been asked the inevitable follow up question is...and this is the tough one...Am I truly happy with myself?

The answer...most of the time, but not always. I'm a work in progress and my pursuit of Happiness is going to be a lifelong journey. I can only hope that I have the presence of mind to appreciate it, not overanalyze it and most importantly enjoy the hell out of it. As jaded and cynical as I can become at times, I need to remember to nurture that little voice inside me that tries to look on the bright side of things.

Seek out that which is Good about life and there you will find Happiness.

Tenuous

Tenuous. Tenuous is defined as having a lack of firmness or mettle; fragile. Such a delicate word and utterly terrifying. I suppose I should try and look on the bright side of things, latch onto some ray of hope, submerse myself in the faith that everything works out best in the end or simply detach my emotional receptors and take a purely "Vulcan" approach to it all and tell myself it's the circle of life or something else logically profound.

Tenuous. When I hear that word I think of the thinnest strand of thread imaginable. Yet when dealing with one's psycho-emotional state or even one's very health, tenuous just isn't how we'd want our tether described. But sadly, life is like that.

I suppose, I should explain what's with all the histrionics. You see, despite everything I have observed, absorbed and experienced in my life, thus far, I've had it pretty good. No, I don't come from old money, or superlative genetic stock, nor do I have a prestigious family name (at least not in the eyes of society at large), but with regard to experiencing excruciating pain and loss...I've been fortunate to avoid it for the most part. All my dearest, closest friends and loved ones are still living and for the most part well. But, things change. It's inevitable, isn't it? Unavoidable even.

Let me take a step back and explain things a bit further. I'm one of those soon to be all too rare individuals whose parents never got divorced, so my family is for the most part intact and not grafted and complex. Of my four grandparents, I was only ever really close to two of them, my mom's parents. Which isn't to say that I didn't love my dad's parents, I just wasn't as strongly bonded to them as I am with my other grandparents. Of the four, three are still living. I lost my Grandpa Barr years ago to cancer, but he put up one hell of a fight. My Grandma Barr did her best to forge a life for herself without my Grandpa, but sadly has succumbed to Alzheimer's. She's still alive, but yet, not really. Her body's still with us, but the rest of her has moved on.

Now, my mother's parents, my Grandpa and Grandma Heston, have always been in the pinnacle of health. They've somehow managed to remain timeless and didn't begin to show signs of even being remotely close to their age until recently. My Grandpa Heston didn't slow down until he broke his hip and had to have a total hip replacement a couple years or so ago. But then that's what happens when you're in your 80s and fall out of a tree--no joke. However, he bounced back pretty well all things considered. My Grandma Heston seldom ever gets sick, she's far too busy to be bothered with something like that. In fact, had it not been for our wonderful winter weather over Christmas and the fact that they too lost their power, she'd have hosted the annual Christmas Eve family get-together at her house again this year with over 50-60 guests filling their basement for potluck revelry.

Really, I have been very fortunate, but three nights ago I got my first official wakeup call. The phone rang and it was Mom. She didn't sound too bad, so I wasn't prepared for her to tell me that she had some bad news. My Grandma had come down with pneumonia. My first thought was that well, this must be it, the Alzheimer's weakened her mentally and now her body's starting to give out. Wrong. It was Grandma Heston who'd contracted pneumonia. I was kinda stunned, but still not too concerned. She went to the doctor, he prescribed some anti-biotics and she's back home. Everything will be fine in a little while. That's what I told myself. That's what I keep telling myself, because anything else would break my heart.

I hung up the phone and still hadn't completely felt the impact of what my mother had just told me. I mean, I know my mom, she's a consummate worrier and this is HER mother we're talking about. If it was really REALLY serious, she'd be a basketcase for sure. So, I put my fears aside and went on with my routine. The next day, I thought about calling and checking on Grandma, but I knew my mother had intended to spend the day at my grandparents' house, cleaning and just doing whatever she could to keep herself calm and feeling useful, while at the same time watching over her parents. Plus, I knew Grandma had a difficult time catching her breath with all the coughing, let alone trying to talk, so I didn't call.

The following evening I couldn't stand it any longer, I had to call and at least check in. So, I called my grandparents' house and Grandpa answered the phone. He NEVER answers the phone. We spoke briefly and he told me Grandma had been behaving herself and hadn't been too cranky, but I knew that her not being able to do the things that she would ordinarily be doing had to be driving her stir crazy. He gave her the phone, which I hadn't expected him to do and I heard my Grandma say, "Hello Chris." What a relief, she sounded pretty good, but from then on she struggled to talk and maintain her voice and finally I just told her I'd do the talking for a bit and wrapped up the conversation with her promising to have Grandpa call me if she needed anything.

I had a huge lump in my throat after hanging up the phone. This wasn't a cold, or even the flu. This was serious. However, it wasn't just hearing her sound so horrible on the phone, but it was what she said. She'd told me she wondered if maybe God had been trying to tell her something. The weather had forced her to cancel Christmas Eve, she'd also been forced to cancel a handful of other important events that in the past she'd never have thought twice about missing and then this. And now here I am, helpless to do anything but be loving and supportive and hold onto my faith that things will work out for the best in the end. But best for whom?

It all just kinda hits me in the gut. And yet, there's a part of myself that keeps reminding me that there are people out there who are regularly put through far worse than what I'm going through. My own GRANDMOTHER is going through far worse right now. This isn't even that serious at the moment and I need to get a grip. All of this makes perfect rational sense. In fact, in my heart I truly believe that Grandma will bounce back from this and that we will have plenty more time to spend together, laughing, and playing cards, eating great food and oh the hugging. However, there's another part of me (the part that wants so very much to protect me and prepare me) that reminds me to not take things for granted, to not take the people I love for granted. Tenuous. Life is fucking tenuous.

What the F*#$?!

Fierce Winter storms, devastating tsunamis, torrential rains, mass flooding, mud slides...what the hell is going on? If locusts start coming in droves, that's it, I'm out. But seriously, did I miss a memo or something? Has the Greenhouse Effect or the Hole in the Ozone Layer stepped things up a notch?

It is approaching the middle of January and as I was driving home from work today I glanced at the thermometer in my rearview mirror (what an awesome little device) and saw 64 degrees staring back at me. 64 degrees!?! Now, I knew the weathercrews on the news were all calling for 60 degree weather today but until you really see the figure for yourself it's just kinda unreal. I was dumbfounded. What is going on with these screwy weather conditions?

To be honest, things have been changing for a while now. The Summers have been intensive and scorching lately, the tansitional seasons of Spring and Autumn have been pretty brief for the most part. Maybe I just never paid much attention as a kid growing up but I just don't remember the seasons being like this. I never worried about sunscreen like I do now and I was outside way more back then. I remembered the seasons as being very distinct but now, they just sorta all get mushed together and overlap, or worse yet hop back and forth as if Mother Nature herself can't seem to make up her mind what she's gonna do.

Then I stop at another stoplight and glance up at the rearview mirror again and do a doubletake. It now says 67 degrees. I glance at my wintercoat that's wadded up and staring back at me from the passenger's seat. I know if it could talk it'd say, "I don't know what the f*#$ is going on either man."

Bowling

Every year my school district holds a "Bowl Your Winter Blahs Away" bowling event. This year was no exception. Now, I hadn't bowled in quite some time, so, I wasn't expecting to just pick up a ball and start burning up the lanes with it. Usually, I have a difficult time finding a suitable ball to bowl with in the first place (first rule of bowling--blame it on the ball),but this time I managed to find a bowling ball of an adequate weight with large enough holes for my knuckles to slide through easily. Then, once my ball was in hand (get your minds out of the gutters folks) and my ugly shoes were on my feet, I was prepared to do battle.

We had enough people signed up for 3 lanes of bowling. Of course a handful of those people backed out at the last minute for one reason or another, so we had some spousal and children subs. So now, "Janice" was no longer a 5'2 African-American woman, but a 5'9 white guy and so forth.

We managed to get a primo bowling spot this year. Right behind our lanes was the BAR (second rule of bowling--always drink, so that you can blame it on the alcohol as well as the ball) which I immediately began to frequent. Bowling and Captain Morgan's & Coke, not a bad way to spend a few hours. I almost felt like standing around with my leg perched on something like in those Captain Morgan's commercials (no I didn't).

My first game I at least broke 100 garnering a whopping 111. The second game I bowled a 114. I started to ease off the drinking, since I had to drive and my colleagues had begun scaring me with the horror stories from year's past. Aparrently a woman a couple years back had started out the night all happy and clapping and having a good time, however, as the night wore on she just sorta disappeared. Turns out she'd drank just a bit too much and spent the third game slumped over in the women's bathroom, where she'd filled the sink up with vomit. (Bleh!!) At the end of the night they placed her, knealing backwards on an vinyl upholstered chair and wheeled her out the door to the car. As she was being wheeled past one of her colleagued announced "Yep, there goes our kindergarten teacher."

Not wanting to wind up the star of my own bowling anecdotal story, I finished my drink and decided against getting another, until I ran into an old college friend and she insisted that she buy me a drink---because she didn't want to go up to the bar and just get one for herself. Being the good guy I am, I accepted and downed another Captain & Coke. I really needed to make a more conscious effort to focus my attention now, but my bowling managed to improve. I ended the night with a 135 for my third game and had no problems driving home.

Closeup 

Snatch 

Dodger 

My Roommate's Deranged Cat or What the Hell Happened to Your Pussy!?!

Pets can be the greatest thing in the world. No matter how shitty or how great my day has been, regardless of how I look, feel or act, even if I have been less than pleased with his behavior lately, my dog Dodger is always happy and excited to see me. (And, no, it has absolutely NOTHING to do with the fact that I let him out to go do his "business" in the backyard as soon as I get home.)

However, pets can also be burdensome with responsibility.

"Hell yeah, I'd love to take a roadtrip this weekend! Oh, wait, I'll get back to you on that, it all depends on whether I can find someone to look after my dog while I'm gone."

My roommate, Cory, has a cat. She's named after his ex-girlfriend, the woman he originally purchased the feline for as a gift. The cat's name you ask? Snatch.

Now, prior to moving in, Cory brought his little furball bundle of joy over to introduce her to Dodger to see if they would be compatible or at the very least coexist. Dodger seemed to welcome the new mobile and sound producing fluffy toy and wanted to play with her endlessly. Snatch, the demure, prissy, bitch that she is wanted nothing to do with him--at first. Until of course he stop showering her with attention, then she sought him out and enticed him to give chase.

Watching the two of them interact has been both amusing and psycho-socially interesting. The cat has taken to begging for people food by sitting down in front of you while you're eating and staring at you the entire time, watching as each bite moves from plate to mouth. And the dog? Well, I've caught him standing proudly on the back of the couch a couple times. The first time I just sorta stood there slack jawed. Then he turned around, saw that I was standing there and just sorta got this "oh yeah, I'm supposed to be a dog." expression on his face and nonchalantly backed down off the couch and onto the floor. My roommate hasn't done much to discourage this confusion on Dodger's part either, He started to train him to come when you call, "Here Kitty Kitty."

Well, karma has reared it's ugly head. Turns out Dodge isn't the only animal now who's become a mental case. Snatch seriously needs to see a shrink. She appears to suffer from some kind of nervous licking habit. Either she has decided she wants to be the most pristine cat known to man or she just enjoys the fact that she can lick herself. Personally, I'm thinking it's the latter. I mean, who WOULDN'T enjoy being able to do that to...er...ahem...Anyway, her persistent grooming has begun to take a toll on her physical appearance.

"Dude, my cat must be watching home makeover shows when we're not around. Look, she's given herself a bikini wax."

I laughed my ass off when I saw that she had licked the fur completely off from around all her personal parts. It looked fairly ridiculous, but then hell, who am I to judge, I once thought it would be cool to get my hair permed. Well, this week she has taken things much further. She has now, in addition to her already fur-free personal bits, she has clearcut her entire ass and the lower half of her tail.

"If I'm not mistaken dude, I'd say your cat thinks she's a flippin' poodle. Maybe you should just help her out and shave all her fur off. We could change her name to Mrs. Bigglesworth."

Now, before you think my roommate's an inconsiderate, heartless bastard---which he'd be the first to admit he is, but still...Cory HAS taken Snatch to the vet, but the vet has no idea what is causing this. She originally diagnosed FLEAS, but if that were the case, we'd all have fleas, but that just isn't the case. There's never been a flea in the house thus far. And obviously, she's still going at herself.

Happy (belated) New Year!!

Damn. I just started this Blog and alreadyI've started slacking off. I'd love to say that I've been overly busy, but that would be a lie. Upon returning to my newly repowered abode, I just kinda settled in and coasted through the end of my winter break. I stayed in for New Year's (weak, I know, but it was actually kinda pleasant) and just enjoyed being in my own home.

New Year's Day I picked up my grandparents and returned to my parents' house. My mother always has family over to watch football, eat, watch football, eat and play cards. Well, suffice it to say that I lost my ass at poker this year. It didn't matter if I had a good hand or not, hell, it didn't matter if I switched seats--I couldn't win if my life depended on it. The gambling gods were not shining on me that day.

So, when I announced that I was going to head home and began saying my goodbyes, my family was actually sad to see me go. Of course this had more to do with the fact that their primary source of entertainment, beyond the bowl games, was packing it in and leaving. Between their amusement of my dog's antics, and their amusement of my own misfortune at the poker table, not to mention the fact that I was no longer going to provide people with a source of income, what ever were they going to do for added fun?

Well, as I said in my title for this entry, Happy belated New Year. I'm anticipating good things in 2005, hope you are too.