I was the only girl in my family. I had no sisters and all male cousins on one side. My female cousins (all 3 of them) lived in Northern CA so I didn't get to see them as often as I liked. That meant that my formative years were spent playing with boys. This gave me a unique experience that formed me into the tom-boy princess I am today. Here are some lessons I can pass on to others less fortunate than myself:
1) Wonderwoman doesn't cry. Whenever my brothers would tease me or hurt me and I would cry, they knew they would get in trouble so they tried to convince me that real women didn't cry. Wonderwoman was (is) my favorite super hero so if she didn't cry then I shouldn't either. It often worked.
2) Anything can be a competition. Get a bunch of boys together in an empty room and they can make a competition out of it. Who can stand on one leg the longest, who can jump the farthest, who can hold their breath without passing out? If you add in a prop then the possibilities are endless. One of my personal favorites is the crawl around a table. You take a fold up rectangular table and see if you can crawl around it (the narrow end). It's trickier than it may seem.
3) Instructions are for people who don't know what they're doing and you should be able to figure out how to build anything by just looking at it. (I actually go against this one entirely. I read EVERY instruction).
4) If you don't have one, build it. Need a shelf? Build one. Is something broken? You can fix it with some duct tape. Zip line? No problem, I'm sure I've got some extra wire and a pulley and harness somewhere in the garage.
5) Chicks dig scars...I'm not sure if this works the other way around...
6) Don't tell the hospital the real reason your elbow is bruised or your knee is hyper-extended. "While wrestling with my brother in the kitchen, I was thrown to the floor and landed on my elbow." They look at you funny when they see that you are a grown-up and so is your 6'5'' brother.
7) Don't react. When teased, scared, pushed, pulled, tickled, or put in a choker hold simply relax and wait for it to be over. They usually get bored long before you pass out...usually.
8) The Matrix is the best movie ever made...and if you disagree Paul will kill you.
9) If you like (0r at least know enough about them) Sci-Fi, the Godfather movies, Rambo, and Rocky you will always have a movie connection with boys.
10) Don't ever punch at full strength or someone might punch you back at his full strength...trust me on this one.
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Thursday, March 4, 2010
Never Ask Me For Directions
I don't live in Long Beach, but I have driven in that city most of my life. Much of my family lives in that city, my church is in Long Beach, and I drive through it at least twice a week. I should know a lot about it. I should be able to identify and locate major streets by name.
I mix up words that begin with the same letter. I usually look at the first letter of a word and just jumble the rest. I think this came from speed reading. I would read the first letter of a character's name and say to myself, "Oh, the M girl said that." This can be a problem in that I get March and May confused constantly. I often switch student's names up. Hieu and Hien are always the same. Angela and Angelica I usually just mumble out and Trinh, Trang, Trong, Thong, and Thang are hopelessly mixed up without apology from me.
If only this key piece of information was posted somewhere on my car. While driving through Long Beach last Tuesday night, a man pulled up beside me and rolled down his window. I know what you're thinking...don't respond, just drive away. A strange man wants to talk to you...in Long Beach. But I'm unable to think defensively and so I rolled down my window expecting him to tell me my headlight is out.
"Can you tell me where Willow is?"
I should have said the truth, which is a blazing and pathetic, "no." But I knew I should be able to direct someone from Cherry to Willow. I've driven past it a million times. I know that it is south of my current position, but which W street am I thinking of? Woodruff, Wardlow, and Willow become this mixed up jumble of street names and locations and suddenly I have no idea where Willow is. Does this stop me?
"Make a u-turn and turn right on Carson, you'll hit Wardlow and then turn right you should eventually hit Woodruff and turn right, then you'll hit Willow."
Immediately I know how wrong I am. Wardlow is parallel to Carson, so unless he's driving on some non-Euclidean streets, he's never going to make it. As he is following my doomed and stupid directions, I shout out more jumbled information from my window. It's only after I'm on the freeway that I realize how stupid my directions were and I pray for the poor guy who is potentially following them.
Why, out of all the cars did he pick mine? Do mini's seem friendlier? Was the Phi Beta Kappa sticker on the back a possible indicator of intelligence. Well, I'm sure he's aware by now how wrong he was in his choice.
I mix up words that begin with the same letter. I usually look at the first letter of a word and just jumble the rest. I think this came from speed reading. I would read the first letter of a character's name and say to myself, "Oh, the M girl said that." This can be a problem in that I get March and May confused constantly. I often switch student's names up. Hieu and Hien are always the same. Angela and Angelica I usually just mumble out and Trinh, Trang, Trong, Thong, and Thang are hopelessly mixed up without apology from me.
If only this key piece of information was posted somewhere on my car. While driving through Long Beach last Tuesday night, a man pulled up beside me and rolled down his window. I know what you're thinking...don't respond, just drive away. A strange man wants to talk to you...in Long Beach. But I'm unable to think defensively and so I rolled down my window expecting him to tell me my headlight is out.
"Can you tell me where Willow is?"
I should have said the truth, which is a blazing and pathetic, "no." But I knew I should be able to direct someone from Cherry to Willow. I've driven past it a million times. I know that it is south of my current position, but which W street am I thinking of? Woodruff, Wardlow, and Willow become this mixed up jumble of street names and locations and suddenly I have no idea where Willow is. Does this stop me?
"Make a u-turn and turn right on Carson, you'll hit Wardlow and then turn right you should eventually hit Woodruff and turn right, then you'll hit Willow."
Immediately I know how wrong I am. Wardlow is parallel to Carson, so unless he's driving on some non-Euclidean streets, he's never going to make it. As he is following my doomed and stupid directions, I shout out more jumbled information from my window. It's only after I'm on the freeway that I realize how stupid my directions were and I pray for the poor guy who is potentially following them.
Why, out of all the cars did he pick mine? Do mini's seem friendlier? Was the Phi Beta Kappa sticker on the back a possible indicator of intelligence. Well, I'm sure he's aware by now how wrong he was in his choice.
Monday, March 1, 2010
Missing Grandpa a Year Later
It is hard to believe that it's been a year since my grandpa died. In some ways, I don't even like to believe that it's true at all and in others it feels like his being gone is now a part of our lives.
February proved to be a tough month. It was the anniversary of his getting sick, Valentine's Day which would have been their 62nd anniversary, and then the anniversary of his passing on the 26th. My policy: avoid it all.
Valentine's day used to be a wonderful celebration for me. I always loved it, regardless of my dating status, because it was my grandparents' day. Their love was such a fantastic love story that felt like an endless Hallmark movie. Their love for each other spilled out to all of us. We always got gifts on Valentine's day from Grandma and Grandpa. This year, we didn't celebrate. I didn't even buy them for my students.
I was sure that last Friday would be a tough day for me, but it wasn't. I didn't cry, I thought of Grandpa often, but it was with fondness and pleasure in my memories of him. I felt that I was beginning to accept the reality of him being gone and I was finally able to think back in joy.
Today I was caught off guard. I'm reading a cute book to my first period class about Jr. High kids. I was reading a chapter today that was not particularly sentimental or dramatic, but just involved a boy going on a walk with his grandpa and hearing some of his stories. As I read the line, "and boy could my grandpa talk!" I got choked up. I started to cry and could barely get out the words. I really miss my grandpa's stories.
Sometimes when I would be cornered by my grandpa and he'd be telling me a story, I'd tell myself, "He won't always be here to say this. Take the time to listen!" And I would do it. I would listen and soak it in and savor it. How much I would love to just hear one more. To have him grab my arms and tell me something.
The other day I wore a dress that I knew he liked and I could just hear his compliment to me. He would always grab my arms and look at me and say, "That's a beautiful dress." It's impossible to feel ugly when an artist compliments you like that.
I can't even imagine what it must be like for Grandma. I've decided that she's going to be sad forever until she's with him again and that's ok. I'm going to try to give her glimmers of happiness, but when you've been cherished by a man like John Reimer for over 61 years, it seems pretty nearly impossible to try to live joyfully without him.
I am so thankful for my Grandpa and the time that I was able to have with him. I am thankful that I knew him so well and that I was able to be loved by him and love him. I miss him so much, but I am starting to remember him with joy. I sure did love him and I sure do miss him.
February proved to be a tough month. It was the anniversary of his getting sick, Valentine's Day which would have been their 62nd anniversary, and then the anniversary of his passing on the 26th. My policy: avoid it all.
Valentine's day used to be a wonderful celebration for me. I always loved it, regardless of my dating status, because it was my grandparents' day. Their love was such a fantastic love story that felt like an endless Hallmark movie. Their love for each other spilled out to all of us. We always got gifts on Valentine's day from Grandma and Grandpa. This year, we didn't celebrate. I didn't even buy them for my students.
I was sure that last Friday would be a tough day for me, but it wasn't. I didn't cry, I thought of Grandpa often, but it was with fondness and pleasure in my memories of him. I felt that I was beginning to accept the reality of him being gone and I was finally able to think back in joy.
Today I was caught off guard. I'm reading a cute book to my first period class about Jr. High kids. I was reading a chapter today that was not particularly sentimental or dramatic, but just involved a boy going on a walk with his grandpa and hearing some of his stories. As I read the line, "and boy could my grandpa talk!" I got choked up. I started to cry and could barely get out the words. I really miss my grandpa's stories.
Sometimes when I would be cornered by my grandpa and he'd be telling me a story, I'd tell myself, "He won't always be here to say this. Take the time to listen!" And I would do it. I would listen and soak it in and savor it. How much I would love to just hear one more. To have him grab my arms and tell me something.
The other day I wore a dress that I knew he liked and I could just hear his compliment to me. He would always grab my arms and look at me and say, "That's a beautiful dress." It's impossible to feel ugly when an artist compliments you like that.
I can't even imagine what it must be like for Grandma. I've decided that she's going to be sad forever until she's with him again and that's ok. I'm going to try to give her glimmers of happiness, but when you've been cherished by a man like John Reimer for over 61 years, it seems pretty nearly impossible to try to live joyfully without him.
I am so thankful for my Grandpa and the time that I was able to have with him. I am thankful that I knew him so well and that I was able to be loved by him and love him. I miss him so much, but I am starting to remember him with joy. I sure did love him and I sure do miss him.
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