Currently The Soft Bulletin By The Flaming Lips see related

an existential moment

Today I turned on iTunes so I could listen to music while folding up my laundry.  I decided to put my entire library on random, scrolled through a few shuffled songs before settling on "Suddenly Everything Has Changed" by the Flaming Lips, and set about folding, half-dancing-and-singing-along too.  It's one of those songs I kind of know the words too, but haven't quite committed to memory.  So imagine my surprise when, as I was preparing to fold an orange T-shirt, I heard Wayne Coyn sing, in a pleasing downward modulation from the previous verse, "Putting all the clothes you've washed away / And as you're folding up the shirts you hesitate / Then it goes fast / You think of the past."  So I guess the question I'm coming away with here is, is it true that suddenly everything has changed?  After, of course, is Wayne Coyn some kind of hypnotist (ha!) who'd foreseen this seemingly insignificant moment ten years ago when he wrote that song?  Assuming a me-centric universe model, that is.  (Galileo didn't think of that one.)

Currently Listening Funeral By Arcade Fire see related

ch-ch-ch-ch-changes

I'm super-excited because I just signed up for my fall classes.  I filled two notebook pages writing down all the possible classes I could take and the different combinations I could take them in.  I ended up taking Historical Analysis Seminar section 4 (sounds exciting!), Islamic World 1500- (to... what?  today, maybe), US Vietnam & the War Seminar, and Arabic 1.  But I probably won't take Arabic 1, because that's 5 days a week.  And I will be living 45 minutes from campus.

I'm also super-excited because we're leaving for Hawaii in six days.  Oa-freaking-hu.  Never been there; sounds way more commercial and developed than Maui and the Big Island, but sadly that's not always a bad thing.

I'm also semi-excited because I was surfing Craigslist for places to live in San Francisco, even though I don't plan on doing that (living in San Francisco) for at least a few months, if not a whole year.  It was discouraging to see the prices, yes, especially on the one-bedrooms and studios, but getting my own bedroom in someone else's place, as long as they're nice and not-crazy, could go for pretty reasonable.

The other night my dog threw up pretty chunkily at about 4 am, and I was pretty damn pissed because I had to get up at 6.  Not to mention clean it up.  We took him to the vet yesterday to find a way to put a stop to his frequent vomiting (actually Paul did, I was taking a nap), and the vet prescribed him Pepcid AC.  He might have acid reflux.  Like pet like owner?  (Paul, not me.)

Today at work was Roman's last day, and yesterday was Victoria's.  Roman is this awesome 13-year-old kid who I got to read a lot of history stuff with, and then discuss, which is like my bread and butter, or my kind of thing.  Victoria is this hilarious 7-year-old with adorable freckles who said I looked like Gabrielle from High School Musical.  She called hand sanitizer "hanitizer", and not in an annoyingly precocious way either.

Currently Watching Everything Is Illuminated By Eugene Hutz, Elijah Wood, Jonathan Safran Foer, Jana Hrabetova, Stephen Samudovsky see related

Bad things come in Threes, I hope

So I've had my fair share of drama in the past two weeks, and by fair share I mean like WAY more than necessary, and increasing in magnitude.  Let's start at the beginning.

As I have already briefly noted in my last entry, on Monday, April 21st, I was running just outside my apartment with my dog Otto when the clasp on his leash got stuck between two of his front toes.  It was a stressful, harrowing twenty minutes or so, trying to get it off of him, with the very gracious aid of an off-duty veterinarian.  We had to get his between-toes area looked at last Thursday by our own vet, because it seemed to be getting infected, and for the last week we've been treating it with antibiotics.  It's finally going away.

Last Friday, April 25th, I was just taking my kids out of tutoring for the day and getting ready to walk them to the front of the school, where their parents pick them up, when I heard a police helicopter hovering over the campus, and a megaphone-enhanced voice making some kind of announcement.  My co-worker came by and told me there was a lockdown underway, and that we had to take our kids to the cafeteria until further instruction.  That was a stressful, confusing twenty minutes or so, as one of my kids (Angel, the scamp) took off for his mother instead of coming with me to the cafeteria, though they later found their way over.  The principal let us know that it had been a vehicle theft (though purportedly the thief abandoned the vehicle and was on foot, possibly armed), and after a bit the kids were allowed to be taken home by parents, and I left.  The dangers of working near Martin Luther King Jr. Blvd.

And finally, just this last Thursday, May 1st- actually, it was more like Friday, May 2nd, at 3 am- I awoke to the sound of a ringing alarm, coming from outside my apartment somewhere.  Voices joined it, and as I was getting up to check it out I heard my roommate from downstairs right outside my door, shouting "Fire!"  My roommates and I went outside to find smoke billowing out of the apartments next door, an older lady (the one who has the parking spot next to me) crying "My cat!" and a whole swarm of police officers (the department's across the street) trying to do crowd control before the firemen got there.  Basically we were outside for two hours- I was barefoot, my boyfriend was shirtless, my dog had no leash and we had to hold him by his collar- as they put the fire out.  It was cold, and it was EXTRAORDINARILY stressful, because the four apartments that were on fire were literally right next door to ours. 

Flames were licking out of the roof, firefighters were going in and out with gas masks, that giant crane-thing was brought out so the fireman with the chainsaw could go up there and cut parts of the roof away.    (In the process we learned that we had a British neighbor named Hugh who lived in one of the lower fire-endangered apartments, and he was quite nice, so it really feels like a shame that it took a fire to find that out, especially because the residents of those four apartments basically need to find somewhere else to live.)  Finally at around 5 am, the fire was out, the neighboring apartments in the building had been checked, including ours, and we were allowed back inside.  A few firemen brought by a giant fan to blow the smoke out of our apartment.  Otto ran out the front door twice, once when the fire alarm first went off, and once after we were back inside and were airing out the smoke; that always spikes my adrenaline, because he's not exactly the most trustworthy dog when it comes to listening to commands.  I hate to be materialistic, but man am I glad all my stuff is okay.  (The firemen saved the lady's cat.  No one was hurt.  Most of the damage was water, and most of the burnt areas were the roof and the balconies/patios.)

So three things that I have never had to deal with, and hope to never have to again.  I'm not a crisis person, okay.  I'm thinking maybe the universe is just cosmically teaming up to teach me how to deal with unusual situations, to make me stronger before I transition fully into independent adulthood.  But when it comes down to it that's a pretty self-involved explanation.  (I happen to believe that's one of man's greatest weaknesses.  Self-involvement, blinder-assisted world view.  Inability to see outside your own self, your own culture, religion, race, even time.  Like why do people always think the world is ending when they're alive?  Do they even have a concept of how many people have thought that in the past thousands of years?)

Anyway, other than that things have been alright, thanks.  It's amazing how strong the desire is to push aside the bad stuff and get back to your normal, safe, predictable life.  Last night I went to see El Dorado High School in Placerville's production of Les Miserables, which Paul was conducting.  I got a small crush on the guy who played Jean Valjean.  I feel like a sexual predator, though I think he might be eighteen.  Why do I always get crushes on guys who are in musicals?  The straight ones, that is.  (So eh, about fifty percent.)

Currently Listening In Rainbows By Radiohead "Bodysnatchers" see related

Yin vs. Yang?

I may seem serene on the surface but inside there is a constant struggle between two different sides of myself.  (Not as dramatic as it sounds.)  There's the side of me that yearns for change and excitement; this side wants to live in every big city that will open itself to me (San Francisco, New York, London, Rome), wants to travel the world, does not want to get married until 30, does not want to have kids until the biological hourglass is almost up, wants to meet lots of new people and try lots of new things.  Then there's the side of me that usually wins, and that's the side that would prefer to be safe, warm, and comfortable, even if that means never, ever changing.  This side wants to stay where I am, give into the nesting instinct and find a place to live with no roommates and lots of permanence, and wants to stay in this home as much as possible.  Everyone fears change to some degree; the risk of being hurt, of being rejected, or of just looking stupid; and in the short term succumbing to that fear is tolerable, almost pleasant, but in the long term the restlessness eats away at me and breaks down that short-term contentment and reveals how illusory it is.

The change-and-excitement side of me made a small victory when I opted to go to San Francisco State instead of Sacramento State for grad school next year.  This choice means no longer living with my boyfriend, no longer living in this area (Davis-Sacramento, where I've lived for five years now, where I've come into my own), and going to a place where I literally know no one, and, while not immediately, eventually moving to one of those big cities- San Francisco.  Every other day I have a small internal panic attack, especially when I think about how much easier it'd be to stay and go to Sac State; but it's just a knee-jerk reaction, and when I stop to mull it over, my choice makes sense.  It's what I should be doing.  Even if in the end it doesn't work out (what if I have no friends? what if I'm actually terrible at history??), it's right.  Right now.

I'm going to miss the kids.  Angel and Rubi can be brats, but Angel is smart and Rubi is hilarious (one time, as they were eating graham crackers at snack time, I asked how their weekend was, and Rubi said in her thick Mexican accent, "It was delicious!" and I laughed and said "Did you eat your weekend?" and she giggled and held up her cracker and said "This is my whole life!").  Jose is just a tiny, adorable little creature who is quite polite, and Yee is my best student and likes to show off for me on the monkey bars.

Currently Reading From Oslo to Iraq and the Road Map: Essays By Edward W. Said see related

Goldfish of Death

I usually get the Vitamin Boost at Jamba Juice, because it provides you with 100% of your daily vitamins and minerals in one easy smoothie, but today I went out of my way to get the Immunity Boost because little Angel, one of my kids at work, generously gave me a goldfish (the cracker) before tutoring and I, in my infinite foolishness, ate it.  Angel, the one who I don't think washes his hands after he uses the restroom.  And you know how kids, regardless of their hygiene level, are just crawling with disease.  I don't know why I took it.  I guess I felt I was being polite, or putting on a show of good faith, although I really don't know if 6-year-olds have the capacity to be insulted, at least not in that way.  I was sick two weeks ago.  I should wear gloves to work.

Neither composing nor photography will probably be my livelihood anymore, my ultimate pursuit, my career, but I don't think that justifies the way I've been neglecting them for the past several months.  I haven't composed a thing since the fall, namely because my Sibelius software does not work on my new computer and I need to upgrade to the newest version, but I've put it off out of both laziness and lack of income.  As for my $700 camera purchased entirely with my own money last August... I took some pictures at Picnic Day, and it was fun, and I was a little less inhibited (I always feel weird taking pictures of strangers without asking permission; there are situations where it seems perfectly acceptable, and others where it seems creepy), but I have very little to show, photographically, for the recent past.  And for my $700 investment.

As for my most likely livelihood, pursuit, career, I have officially declared my intent to register at San Francisco State, where I will begin the master's program in history in the fall.  The campus is lovely and close to the zoo, and from the observation deck on top of the union you can see the ocean.  Edward Said's picture is painted in front of the bookstore.  And the history program places the highest percentage of its M.A. graduates in Ph.D. programs for any stand-alone M.A. program.  Or one of the highest anyway.  And at some point, I presumably will get to live in San Francisco!  Scary but exciting.

The most awful thing happened yesterday.  I was running with Otto on his leash, and somehow he got the clasp stuck in the webbing between his toes.  He screamed and bit and thrashed, and by some lucky coincidence a young teenage girl stopped on her bike and offered the services of her veterinarian mother who lived around the block.  I was a bit of a baby about holding him down, and about releasing the clasp (one of those that you have to push in further before you can release it- the vet lady recommended a different kind, which we purchased today), so even with her help we didn't get very far, but eventually as we tried to coax him along, three-legged, to the car to take him to an animal hospital, he got it off himself.  No puncturing of the skin, just a little redness, and he was prancing and licking and perfectly his cute and irritating self.  I postponed my run out of post-traumatic stress.  Had a great workout today though.