Tuesday, April 25, 2006

The third graders have more testing this week. Which means I again get to "supervise" (aka "babysit") half the class during the day. So today, after we finished up our math worksheet, we started watching The Princess Bride.

And oh, how my little heart fluttered.

I totally forgot how dreamy Westley is!

Oh God...
Cary Elwes very well could have been my very first girlhood crush.
Well either Cary Elwes or Rick Moranis. I don't know which came first.

My palms are sweaty all over again.

But a warning to those thinking of googling their own childhood (or current) movie star crushes: Sometimes reality takes the magic away. As would, I'm guessing, seeing the movie Saw.

I have discovered that sometimes, when you search and finally find the filmography profile of that special someone, you may discover some unpleasant truths.

Like country music albums. Or a role as John Paul II. (I don't think you can have a steamy crush on the pope.)

Weight may have fluxuated, aging may have taken it's toll, roles may have taken a dive, and unattractive mustaches may have appeared.

Now don't let this completely deter you. Have fun. But be careful.

You have been warned...

Monday, April 24, 2006

"We were just eating raw bacon in the lighthouse!"

So last week I sat down to watch a fresh episode of Saturday Night Live. And afterwards, I was restless. I couldn't sleep. My chest felt itchy from the inside. I was pacing my bedroom and laughing to myself.

I'm starting to realize that I've had this feeling fairly consistently for the last five years. I get sort of antsy and excited whenever I watch a good, satisfyingly funny episode of SNL. And sometimes even after watching the not-so-funny ones.

But I don't think it's an allergic reaction to too much television or just some celebrity/pseudo-celebrity obsession. I get a similar feeling when I find a new magazine I like, or when I read David Sedaris, or when Catherine sends me an article from the Onion and I have to stifle my laughter in the teachers' lounge.

I got this feeling when I compulsively rented Arrested Development DVDs last April. And when I compulsively watched Stella Comedy Shorts instead of studying for finals sophomore year.

I get this feeling when I see a t-shirt with Steve Buschemi on it. When I have conversations with my friends. When I go to HyVee with Keith.

I get this feeling when Kyle Korver comes up in conversation. When my brother grows a mustache. When the Bruggemans come over.

Ultimately, creating cool things makes me really happy. Laughing makes me really happy.

And, I'm not certain, but what I think it comes down to is a mix between super fan-dom - an appreciation for things that are funny, cool, engaging, intelligent, creative - and the realization of "I want to do that. Hey. I could do that."

I just don't know where the line of distinction is.

The thing is, the aspiration to write (comedically?) is always there. It excites me and also scares the shit out of me. I just wonder how much longer I can avoid it.

I fear that the longer I wait to pursue it in some form, the more I dabble around in other things that I'm less passionate about, the further away the dream gets until my life starts to fizzle and settle into something doughy and mediocre and half-satisfying. And that is my biggest fear.

In the words of Rob Gordon, WHEN IS THIS GONNA STOP?!

I don't doubt that Portland is going to be amazing. Another year of living the life of a volunteer will totally change me - in a good way. I'm really looking forward to a new environment. I'm looking forward to sharing myself (and my toilet paper) with 7 new people. I'm looking forward to working in a new, engaging job with women and children with a lot of different needs (I accepted the Rose Haven job by the way!) I'm looking forward to the diversity and the stimuli that come with such an amazing city.

It's just that if I fall in love with Portland in the duration of an amazing year, Chicago, or what I eventually want to take place in Chicago, is that much further away. Literally and figuratively. So that's a little scary to me.

And it's not just Chicago. It could be Madison. It could be San Francisco. It could be New York. It could be Sioux Falls! (But probably not Sioux Falls...) It could be a million places. I just know for sure that I could sink my inexperienced little teeth into something in Chicago. And you have to start somewhere.

But maybe my somewhere is somewhere else. Maybe opportunities will present themselves in Portland. Or Lincoln. Or Katmandu.


If there is one thing I've learned about myself this year, it's that I am extremely indecisive. Thank God I'm not a transsexual.

But I am thoroughly excited for whatever happens. And a little less restless than I was last week. Wherever I go, whatever I do, I know I'll find something that makes me happy. I just have to be open to it. But God. I'm ready for good things...

Friday, April 21, 2006

Spring is in the air...

It's warm outside. The sun stays out past 8. It's spring and I'm feeling a tad nostalgic.

Today, more than anything, I miss the Deweyplex...

I miss my college friends...

I miss having a beer on my porch on a weeknight. I miss staying up until 3 for no apparent reason. I miss DBK materializing in our living room. I miss Monica and Shamille coming over to rehash the previous night's events or to invite us to go get a burritto. I miss sharing a bathroom - drying my hair while one roommate pees, and another one showers. I miss staying in the journalism lab until delerium sets in.

I miss knowing that at any point during my day, I'd be sure to run into a handful of my favorite people on the planet.

Happy High Five Day Y'all. I'm thinking about you.

What's weird is to think that in a year, I might even look back and get nostalgic about this place...

Thursday, April 20, 2006

Nothing boosts your ego like a 3rd grade crush.

All this week and next, the kids are doing buttloads of standardized testing. Which sucks for them, but is great for me. I figure this is God making up for any and all standardized testing I had to endure as a child and adolescent. Because when the kids test, we have hardly ANYTHING to do. And we have needed a break.

So this week, I've been hanging out with the third graders who need supervision while their classmates finish their tests, and it has been nothing short of entertaining. Lots of amusing threats have been thrown back and forth.

"I know who you like!"

"I'll knock you out!"

"You like spongebob?!"

"I'll give you a swirly!"

I also have a notion that one or two of the boys like like me, a role in life I'm not used to. In the middle of helping one kid with a multiplication problem, I was asked if I had a boyfriend. Later that day, a drawing of what faintly resembled a human being made it's way to my desk, with the words "Mr. Wilkins" on top. I guess whoever drew it doesn't mind taking my last name. A true boy of the new millennium.

And as cheesy as it is, it's a much appreciated boost to the ego. The 9-year-old boys finally like me. This, I figure, is God making up for the fact that I never got asked to a dance in high school. Oh the times they are a-changing.

Also, HAPPY 4:20 everybody! Ha. Oh man. My senior year at Pius, we had a track meet at Lincoln High on April 20th, and some rowdy public school girls kept driving by our tent and yelling "FOUR TWENTY!" and honking. It was pretty hilarious. Like yelling "Spring Break!" only a little edgier...or lamer. I don't know which.

Tuesday, April 18, 2006

Ok. So I've recently come to the realization that some people don't grow out of being know-it-all A-holes.

This is the first year I've worked full-time with adults, and I guess there had been this assumption that when people grow up, they stop sucking. Not true my friends. Not true.

There is this one person in particular, who, although he is very intelligent, very experienced in his field, very aware of the culture, and overall very helpful, he always comes across as an arogant student council president when he decides to grace you with his wisdom.

It's like he never got over not being cool in high school or something, and has been making up for it with quirky Hawaiin shirts and an ultra serious tone of voice in the teacher's lounge. He's still in his "It's cool to be different" stage, like the guy who wears the powder blue leisure suit to prom, or the prick in your intro to philosophy class who sits in the front row and won't shut the fuck up. But he's got daughters in high school. It's like...get over it.

I guess there are just certain people who feel good telling other people how shit is done. Every piece of advise he's ever given me has come across making me feel like a total idiot. Which, I'm sorry, I'm not.

Monday, April 17, 2006

"You taste like a burger. I don't like you anymore."

Paul Rudd was on Letterman Friday night. I kind of peed my pants. The whole incident inspired the following list...

A Few More Reasons to Love Paul Rudd:

1.) Paul Rudd is from Overland Park Kansas and makes fun of people who wear Kansas City Chiefs Zubaz Pants.

This has to be one of my top 50 favorite things to make fun of. Ever. And I don't just mean Zubaz in general. I specifically love to make fun of Kansas City Chiefs Zubaz Pants. Like the ones David Wagner had in 5th grade.

2.) Paul Rudd wears skinny pants. Skinny man pants.

3.) Paul Rudd used to work in a ham store where he'd honey glaze his fellow midwesterners' holiday hams. I like to imagine that the place sat in a strip mall, next to a T.J. Cinnamons.

Friday, April 14, 2006

Here we go again...

I'm gonna start blogging again!