sneaking it in under the wire

According to the clock, it's still technically Friday, but only by five minutes. Just returned from opening night of Beyond Therapy. A small but enthusiastic crowd made it a good first show. And with revelry following, I was lucky to make it back in time. But I did.

Was trying to think of what I could write about all day (yes, I know Angela, if I had a project, it would be much easier). Had a wonderful rant in my head on the drive home in response to some accusations made about my beliefs, but the hour is too late and my brain is too tired and right now I don't give enough of a damn to write about it. So why don't we take the easy way out and simply meditate on various bits of flotsam and jetsam that have caught my attention lately.

I tweeted this earlier today, but if you're not on Twitter, you're missing out on one of the funniest "flame wars" I've ever seen. The unlikely partners in crime? Kevin Smith and Neil Gaiman. I happen to follow both of them, so I get to see them zing each other. I've laughed out loud several times. Explaining it will do no good - you have to read this stuff for yourself. A sample

Mr. Smith: Spells! Elixirs! Eyes of newt! Lots of one-eyed newts running around because @neilhimself uses potions on our women to soften their resolve!

Mr. Gaiman: @thatkevinsmith most of those Newts are actually pirates. The one-eyedness is nothing to do with me being a warlock.

This doesn't do it justice. But you get the idea. If this were a TV show, I'd watch it. Of course, then it would get canceled after only a handful of episodes like all the other TV shows I like.

More pop culture: I watched the documentary Anvil: The Story of Anvil this afternoon. More heartbreaking than anything else. Reminded me a bit of The Wrestler, only about a metal band. Watching their passion for what they are doing and realizing they're never going to get to live their dream was tough at times. You feel bad for them but then at the same time, I can see why they never quite hit it big like their contemporaries. If you like 80s metal or stories about people following their passions, check it out.

I'm in the process of trying to renew my five year license and I have a question: do other professions require a person to spend so much money simply to stay licensed? I mean, after paying for six hours of continuing ed, FBI background check and the $200 fee to pay for your new license, it could easily cost over $2,000. This seems a bit excessive to me. Just wondered if this was specific to education or if other professionals went through similar flaming hoops to keep their jobs.

Got my supplemental pay for coaching Academic Team this week and so I've been doing some research on my next major purchase - a flat screen TV. Looking in the 50" range, probably LCD. Beyond that, I'm still trying to figure out what brands are best and the best places to buy them. Any recommendations would be greatly appreciated.

My friend Rob posted an article yesterday, The New Dating Game, after talking to his sons who explained to him "douche bags have kidnapped dating" and "kind, loving, sexy people don't exist." After reading the article and the description the author gives of the dating scene, I realized:

1. I would hate going to clubs and bars if that's what they're like
2. As a quintessential beta male, I would be unsuccessful anyway
3. I'm going to die alone

I think I'm going to have to read it again to see if her argument holds up. I've known for quite some time that I'm nowhere near normal when it comes to dating (I'm so far away, normal is a mere speck on the horizon), but I didn't realize I was the antithesis of what women in the dating scene are looking for. Somewhat disheartening. It did remind me a bit of a line Celine says in one of my favorite movies, Before Sunrise:

You know, I have this awful paranoid thought that feminism was mostly invented by men so that they could like, fool around a little more. You know, women, free your minds, free your bodies, sleep with me. We're all happy and free as long as I can fuck as much as I want

I may have some more thoughts later, but right now it's far too late for me to hope for anything resembling coherent thought. Until next time...

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"Great! Now I have guilt!"

One day in and I've already disappointed the masses. I told you to lower your expectations, but did you listen to me? No, you did not. I'd apologize for not being as, shall we say, verbose as others who do this, but I'm not really that sorry. Quantity doesn't always mean better.

Not long ago while reading over some old journal entries (back when I used to do this in the privacy of my own Word document), I realized I used to write a lot more than I currently do. After some thought, I came to this conclusion - I don't find myself that interesting anymore. I mean really, to go on and on like I used to, for pages and pages - what was I thinking? If I'm bored writing about it, I can't imagine anyone else surviving to the end.

However, I will do my best to use my 30 minutes wisely and not get distracted by other things. No more checking email or Facebook while I'm typing. Just writing.

Some observations from my first "no music" commute:

• You don't have to scream quite so loudly at the other drivers when there's no music to shout over; however...
• What you do shout sounds painfully loud and clear without music to muddy it up. Which makes me cringe a bit more. Which hopefully will encourage me not to shout so much.
• Staying focused will be the trick - with nothing to occupy my mind, it tends to wander about quite a bit. Some centering prayer will help.
• The drive home is much worse than the drive to work, mostly because the persistent rush of the pavement under my tires is quite soothing and after a long day at school I...find...myself...dozing...off...

Looking forward to seeing how it goes for the rest of the time. Doesn't quite feel like a sacrifice at this point, but then this is more about my discipline than sacrifice. At least in my head it is.

I hope you got a chance to see the moon tonight. A sharp, crisp crescent poised to slice open the night sky and let it bleed. Quite beautiful hanging over the snow.

Final dress for Beyond Therapy went OK. Only one blogger showed so not quite the "audience" we'd hoped for, but it's all come together well. And I got some grading done (it's a Lenten miracle!) Per usual, I'm totally wired afterwards, which means sleep, which should be my companion in about 30 minutes, will probably be much farther away. I have a friend who believes my insomnia is tied to my being in plays. And I admit, my sleep patterns do tend to get jacked up during shows. But not sure it's much different than when I'm not in a show - a little more pronounced, perhaps. Couldn't fall asleep until nearly 1AM last night and then was up at 4:45AM, waiting for my alarm to go off. And then I couldn't get out of bed once my alarm did go off and I hit snooze for, well, ever. Someday I'll find a normal sleep pattern. Probably when I retire. Or die, whichever comes first.

OK, so that last little bit was a bit dark. Sorry.

It's usually at this point in my blog that I begin to write about the process of writing and how frustrating it can be (in fact, I wrote quite a few sentences about just that before deleting them and starting over). (And I just deleted some more - really, if I don't want to read them...). This is mostly why I stopped blogging in the first place - I don't have anything of importance to share. Yes, I know, the Buechner quote about talking about our lives and all that. But most of the time I feel I'm pissing into the ocean, hoping to raise the water temperature enough to take a swim (ponder that wonderful metaphor for a while. On second thought, don't). In this day and age of blogs and tweets and status updates and rants, what's one more voice in the din?

Rabbit trail much?

Tomorrow, in accordance with school policy, I will be administering the latest attempt to prove schools (and more specifically, teachers) are actually teaching (or not teaching, as the case may be) our students something. Forget the Ohio Graduation Test - that's so last decade. Here come the "end of course exams," designed to standardize learning and measure not simply how much a student knows, but also how much they have learned from year to year. Because as we all know (because we're told over and over and over and over and over again), all of the problems in the United States - the bad economy, the crime and violence, the crumbling social networks, dogs and cats sleeping together - can be traced back to our students not taking enough standardized tests. If only we could objectify...er, I mean...objectively prove students are learning, then we could live in the glorious utopia pastors, politicians and ETS wonks promise lies just beyond the the horizon. So grab your scantron and your number two pencil and join me as we lead...

Bleah. I can't even get up the energy to continue to be snarky.

See, half an hour has already passed and I'm not sure this is any longer than the last one. And I'm sure it's no more meaningful. Maybe someone should have made reading my blog their Lenten practice - it may be more of a sacrifice to do that than it is for me to write it. Time to go put on my nightly charade of pretending I'm going to fall asleep any time in the next 60 minutes. Or maybe I'll try and start watching my latest DVD from Netflix: Anvil: The Story of Anvil. Nothing like some hair metal to send you off to sleep.

Sorry for the lack of deep thoughts. Maybe this weekend. If you're lucky...

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and so it begins again

ahem...

I'm back.

We've begun once again the 40-day journey known as Lent. 'Tis a season for giving up. 'Tis a season for giving back. 'Tis a season for removing. 'Tis a season for reattaching.

So I'm reattaching to this here blog-thing again. Throwing out my thoughts. Spending time actually looking/listening to my life, to see/hear what I've been missing because I've been too busy to stop and be silent.

I'm sure I'll be a bit rusty here at first. Hopefully practice will make, if not perfect, then more interesting reading at the very least. I have no agenda, nothing specific I want to write about. These aren't meant to be Lenten thoughts, though I'm sure they'll creep in. My focus is on the discipline of writing. I just need to write, to rebuild those muscles I've let atrophy lately. All that to say: it might be best to lower your expectations.

As for Lent, I feared I would not find an Ash Wednesday service to attend. However, I remembered Christ Church Cathedral downtown usually did a 6:00 service, right about 5:35. Made it just in time. Good to go through the ritual, to listen to the words. Was struck by the phrase, "rend your heart" in the Joel 2 passage. Something to chew on over the next few weeks. The officiant seemed to bend over backwards to make his sermon as joyful and happy as possible. Like he was embarrassed the season called for penance or any searching of our souls. Heaven forbid we ask people to spend any time pondering less than happy thoughts.

Anyway, might as well answer the question on everyone's mind: what did I give up for Lent. Struggled a bit this year figuring out what God would have me sacrifice. Several friends gave me ideas, which I considered, some much more than others. I've done so many different fasts for Lent it becomes increasingly difficult not to repeat myself. I've given up my usual, chocolate. But I've also decided to give up listening to music on the way to and from work. I know, I know, sounds lame, but that's 50 minutes of silence I'll be adding to my day. Thought about giving up music altogether, but I did that a couple years ago and, so, I wanted to vary it a bit.

And obviously, I've added this bit of discipline to my life as well - you know, the writing of my thoughts in a blog. The plan is to write for 30 minutes, come rain or shine. We'll see how it goes. Depends on how focused I am how long that will end up being. Why do it in public like this? More of a chance I'll stick to it if I know people are reading. Too easy in a personal journal just to, you know, skip a day or two. Feel free to hold me accountable.

OK, I should be moving to bed (how I wish I could have given up my insomnia for Lent. Actually, I have a whole list of things I wish I could have given up for Lent, but that's a discussion for another time. Perhaps). Feel free to comment - just as I'll feel free to engage you in a discussion or not. Don't take it personally if I don't respond. Like I said, it's not really about what is said but the fact that I'm saying it at all.

Faretheewell.

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