Let's Get to the Point: Should I Quit My Job?
I’ve spent the last decade of my life working for, with, and in education. After five years of college, struggling through tons of ridiculous interviews, and slogging my way through too many tedious days of subbing, I’m finally tenured at a good school filled with great people – most of whom I actually like and enjoy working with! So, why in the world am I considering giving it up?
I have never before considered a more radical change to my life. Deciding to get married, deciding to have a kid – these were things that were just right. They were effortless choices. My life has a trajectory and I have never veered from course. Now, at the age of 31, I feel I’ve finally hit the first big fork in my road. As an English teacher, I’m apt to quote the over-used Frost poem: “Two roads diverged in a yellow wood…” The problem is that both paths are appealing to me. One day I want to go left, and the next I’m certain right is right for me.
When I was in my mid-twenties, I always said that I would be a stay at home mom. I was very righteous in declaring that I wanted to be the one to teach my child all the basics and that I wanted my children to know that I was there for them just as my mother had been for me when I was young. I didn’t want anyone else raising my child. Of course, that was all before I got a permanent job. Once I started working, my attitude shifted. No doubt about it, I wasn’t giving up the job I had worked so hard for and that I got so much fulfillment from for a kid! I could do both – work and be a fantastic mother. And up until the birth of my first child, this is how I felt for many years.
Now, after 7 months of maternity leave, this damn kid has me entranced. All those cliché things that people say about having kids – the ones that, before you have a child, you doubt could possibly be true and roll your eyes at – the ones that they write about in boring greeting cards and talk about in cheesy Lifetime movies – are completely true. It’s just this big – HUGE – emotion that can’t be described or explained. And it’s really fantastic. Being with my daughter makes me feel incredible happiness. Showing and teaching her new things has been just as/more rewarding than most of the teaching I’ve done in the classroom – and she’s really just starting to learn!
I know, I know...I have it hard, having to choose between two appealing paths. I have three months until I’m supposed to go back to work, and my current opinions wildly pendulum back and forth, back and forth. On Monday, I’m crying every time I even look at the baby and think about leaving. On Tuesday, I’m devising a new lesson plan to use upon my return. On Wednesday, I’m writing a resignation letter. On Thursday, I’m checking my work email and talking to co-workers about next year. And on, and on, and on… It’s gotten to the point where the decision between home and work is on my mind far too much, at times making me a complete mental case. This morning, it was the first thing I thought about when I opened my eyes, and I’m sure it will be running through my mind tonight when I trying to get some sleep. It's bringing me down!
Unlike many new moms who have to go back to work for monetary reasons, I am lucky enough to be financially sound without working. My husband – who completely supports whatever decision I make (but really enjoys having me stay home) – makes enough money to support us and our lifestyle. That being said, I am a financial planner and worrier. To me, having a second income is safer and it allows for more savings, vacations, comfort, peace of mind, etc. Plus, it feels good to earn an income that is mine. People like to say that life isn’t about the money, but let’s be honest. Money affords the ability to do more things, to see more places, and to feel less vulnerable.
Still, the money issue really isn’t weighing on me so much. I could always pick up a part time job at a school or a library or as a tutor or editor. I’m pretty smart, so I could really do anything – maybe even go back to school or work on that dream writing career I’ve always talked about been never really whole-heartedly attempted. If I quit my job, I probably wouldn’t quit working all together, but I would be stepping off that career ladder that I’ve started to climb. When I begin teaching again after my children start school, I will be starting over in a field where there are tons of applicants and very few available positions. In todays’ world, it has become more popular for a woman to be both a worker and a home maker. Whether it is because of a poor economy or the presence of more single mothers, the Census says that more than 60% of women who had recently given birth were in the work force. It’s the norm to be a working mom. It seems to be what’s expected.
For me, working is not an impossibility, but is just as much of a sacrifice as staying at home would be. If I go to work, there are going to be things that I can’t do – things that I’m not going to have time for – for myself and my daughter. When I do something, I give it all of my attention and effort. During the school year, I’m at work early, I stay late, and I am always grading or making plans. It’s all I seem to think or talk about. I could never be that lazy teacher who relies of tenure and just sits back while the kids run amok. I could see a chaotic world where I divide my time between work and home, but I worry that other areas are going to suffer. When will I have time for my husband or myself? Is that crazy, always on-the-go life what I want? Right now, I get to spend all the time I want with my daughter AND I get to do a lot of things that I've always wanted to do but have never had time for. Am I just being lazy? Is this fair to my husband who doesn't get a choice?
Really, I have the perfect situation and job for being a working mother. My mother and mother-in-law are available to babysit, so I wouldn’t have to send my daughter to daycare, and I would have those long summers to enjoy being at home. Still, the thought of my child spending the majority of her time with people other than her parents makes me sad (even though her grandparents are hands down the best). Do I want to hear about Olivia’s firsts or do I want to be here for them all? Do I want to be there each morning when my daughter wakes up? Do I want to be the one to show her the world and teach her about everything? Or would I be satisfied sharing in those responsibilities?
When I think about what’s best for my daughter, I think the answer is clearly me staying home. These last few months have been the best of my life, and all of my family has never been closer or happier. I even get to spend more time with my parents, sisters, in-laws, and friends. I wonder why I would mess with a good thing. At the same time, my future gets a lot scarier and lot more unpredictable if I’m at home. If I go back to work, I know what I’m in for every day, and that reassurance could provide the stability that we need to sustain our happiness. I love my job, and although it frustrates me to no end at times, I can’t imagine not being a teacher. It’s how I’ve defined myself for many years now. What would my life be without that definition? If you take away the lines that define me, do I become airy, peaceful, and light or do I just ooze out all over the floor in a lumpy mess?
When I share this issue with others, I tend to see two strongly opinionated sides: some people think I’m insane to stay home while others think that I’d be nuts not to. Mothers tend to say that they would have chosen to stay at home if they could have afforded it. I hear a lot of people saying, “You will never get these years back” while referencing how fast their own children seemed to grow up. Someone very smart asked me which I would regret more at the end of my life: staying home with my daughter or quitting my job. I think that’s definitely a key question I am asking myself. There’s no way to know how I’m going to feel in a year (or tomorrow, for that matter), so all I can do is hunker down and try to figure out what will make my family the happiest and the most content.
Please, share your ideas and opinions with me! I want to know what you think about being a working woman vs being a stay at home mom. Leave a comment below or message/email me your thoughts! As I struggled with these ideas, I remembered the good old blog that I've neglected for the last year, and I decided that airing out my brain online might be tortuous fun. It’s taken me a week to write this in between naps and quiet moments alone, so while I’d like to promise more writings in the immediate future, I can currently commit to nothing (as attested to in this blog). Man, they need to invent a pill for indecisiveness.
Oh, I just noticed I’m publishing this on National Teacher Appreciation Day (May 8). Apropos, don’t you think?
Census info: www.census.gov/newsroom/releases/archives/facts_for_features_special_editions/cb11-ff07.html
It's Just About That Time Again - Oscars 2011
As the readers of this blog well know, Oscar time is throw down time in Casa Lovely/Parry. With less than two months to go until this year’s Academy Awards (airing February 27th), official movie watching has commenced. Each year, Entertainment Weekly’s 25 movies to see before the Oscars list gets hung up on our fridge, and the movies get scratched out with a red Sharpee as we wind our way through as many as possible. We’ve never hit all 25 movies, but in past years we’ve always been close. It all, of course, leads to our cut-throat contest (current reigning champ: me), where we secretly vote on each category and see who can predict the most winners.
This year, for some reason or another, we’ve gotten a pretty good head start; we’ve already watched 11 of the 25 movies. Below you will find opinions on and odds for these contenders.
In one word: Over-rated
Inception was an average movie with a unique plot. It is easily understandable by anyone with the remotest sense of an intellect. I was largely disappointed, and I didn’t think about the movie at all after having watched it.
Chances for an Oscar: Little to no chance in any category other than special effects. It may get a Best Picture nomination based on its popularity.
In one word: Timely
There is some great dialogue in this movie, and the subject matter was very interesting (although I question the amount of truth present), but it wasn’t anything more than what I expected it to be. I feel like a movie that is popular because it is about something, like Facebook, that is so prevalent in culture needs to also affect the viewers’ opinions and make them question things around them. This movie was all about exposition; I didn’t really learn anything worthwhile.
Chances for an Oscar: High – This movie has won all the important awards so far. I think people like it because it’s all about such a “hip” topic. Whatever. I did really like Jesse Eisenberg’s performance. He’ll definitely be nominated for Best Actor. Best Screenplay and Best Director, will also be categories this movie shows in.
In one word: Trippy
This film turned out to be exactly what I was looking for – an intense, thought-provoking movie. My husband and I discussed this film more than any other. It was one of the only films that I had a real reaction to. As usual, Aronofksy blends reality and hallucination perfectly.
Chances for an Oscar: High – this will be another top contender. Natalie Portman really should win Best Actress. I can’t even imagine how much work went into this role. She pulled off bat-shit insane well. I would think it would also definitely be up for Best Director.
In one word: Intense
Despite the fact that anyone going to see this movie already knows what’s going to happen, the suspense is riveting. You will sit on the edge of your chair with your hand over your mouth and your eyes half shut as you watch. The movie will remind you how incredibly weak you would be in any situation that remotely resembles Aron Ralston’s. Amazingly, I wasn’t bored for even a second watching a movie containing really only one character and taking place in one claustrophobic set.
Chances for an Oscar: Nominated for Best Picture, but no chance at a win. James Franco is the host of this year’s Oscars, and I suspect that his new-found popularity might lead him to a win as Best Actor. Danny Boyle should get a Best Director nomination for what he did with so little.
In one word: Affleck!
I really, really liked this movie. I also feel that it is the movie that would most appeal to the masses. I can’t imagine that anyone would dislike it. Interesting characters, as well as tons of action and suspense, make this movie compulsively watchable. My love/hate relationship with Ben Affleck has moved more towards a love/love relationship. Damn you, Affleck!
Chances for an Oscar: Affleck won’t pick up even a nomination for acting or directing, but he might pull one out for adapted screenplay. I would like to see this movie nominated for Best Picture, but it’s a tight race this year. Jeremy Renner has gotten a lot of buzz, and I’m sure he’ll get a well-deserved nom for Best Supporting Actor.
In one word: Weep-fest
You know what’s crazy about this movie? I watched it immediately after watching Rabbit Hole (see below), and of the two, I wept uncontrollably only at Toy Story 3. Gah. Stupid children’s toys and growing up! Why does Pixar feel the need to make their audience cry so much?
Chances for an Oscar: Although I haven’t seen any of its competition yet, I can’t believe that any cartoon will beat TS3 for Best Animated Film. It will likely also be nominated for Best Picture.
In one word: Over-hyped
I was completely unimpressed with this movie. It was good, but it wasn’t anything special. It is supposedly the movie that finally depicts a gay couple and their family in a completely natural way, but it seems odd to me that it has gotten all of its notoriety for this very reason. Frankly, I was bored at times when watching, and I thought the ending was completely disappointing.
Chances for an Oscar: This movie is a favorite with the critics. It will definitely be nominated for Best Picture, but I don’t think it will win. I’m sure it will have several acting nominations. Annette Bening was good, but I don’t think she was anywhere near Natalie Portman in Black Swan. If she wins, it will be because of Hollywood favoritism.
In one word: Stark
This is a little-known film that your average moviegoer hasn’t even heard of. Just the landscape of the movie – impoverished, rural middle America – is more desolate than any desert in 127 Hours. Watching the main character of this film try to hold together a family in this environment is quite powerful. The story is interesting enough, the acting is fantastic, and in the end, there’s a scene that will stick with you for days.
Chances for an Oscar: I think this film will get a nomination for Best Picture, as well as a Best Actress nominee for Jennifer Lawrence – an amazing young actress. John Hawkes deserves a
Best Supporting Actor nomination for his portrayal of Teardrop, the best named character of the year.
In one word: Surprising
For a movie that really hasn’t gotten much attention, Rabbit Hole really surprised me – in a good way. I enjoyed it. It has just the right amount of dark humor and sadness. As a person who enjoys a film that will make me cry, I was surprised at how the story was more uplifting than depressing. Unlike the make-me-want-to-die Revolutionary Road from a few years back, this is a film about two people who survive tragedy and learn how to rebuild their lives.
Chances for an Oscar: I’m thinking it might not even get a Best Picture nom, but both Nicole Kidman and Aaron Eckhart deserve nominations.
(I have also seen Alice in Wonderland and The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, two films on EW’s list of 25 must-see’s that I feel won’t make much of a splash at the Oscar’s. AiW will get a special effects nom and TGwtDT’s Noomi Rapace should get a Best Actress nom but sadly will not.)
We still have several films left in our queue to see (most excited for The King’s Speech), but that’s all for now! Let me know if you’ve seen any of the films above and what you thought about them. You still have over a month before the Oscars! Get viewing!
2010 Winter Classic
This year for Christmas, my husband (the almighty genius that he is) scored us two tickets to the Winter Classic! Thanks to some guy's spelling mistake on Ebay, we were able to score great seats – front row balcony just left of center ice. We had a fantastic view of the ice, as well as the massive crowd around us. Armed against the weather with multiple layers of clothing, we spent the night watching hockey under the stars (er, clouds).
I hesitate to mention this, but I have to confess that Parry and I could have been the cause of our loss. Going against every hockey-loving-superstitious bone in my body, I agreed to switched seats with some guys who wanted to sit with their friends. True, the view was the same, but what if our slight shift to the right was just enough to upset the hockey gods and send the Pens into a downward spiral of goalie blunders and lackluster play?! Couldn't be...
So yeah, we didn't win, but it was still quite awesome to experience.
Here are my highlights and lowlights of the evening:
PROS
Hearing that many freakin’ people chant “Let’s go Pens!” as they crossed the street outside the stadium and marched up ramp after ramp to get to their seats. It echoed through that stadium.
The return of a much missed Jordan Staal
The fact that the stadium was at least a third Caps fans; it made it more rival-liscious
The city and the Christmas tree gloriously lit up in the background
The overwhelming BOOOOO! that surged over the crowd every time Ovechkin appeared on the big screen. I respect the Capitals and actually enjoy a few of their players, but I CANNOT stand that prig.
The introduction of blue jerseys that don’t suck as much as the throwback baby-blues
The little kid who held up this sign on the jumbotron:
Ha!
Watching the game under the lights. I was happy the game was moved back; night-time made it more standout unique.
Kris Letang making pretty much every shot on goal. I like Letang.
My new thermal shirt and pants were magic! I never felt even a draft. Witchcraft, I tell you!
“Free” seat cushions and trading cards….oooooooooooooooooh.
CONS
We played like crap; the Caps won.
Rain (Although I will say it wasn't that bad to sit in, really. I'm sure it was a bitch to play in.)
The way the Steelers infect everything in Pittsburgh; they were everywhere. Ugh.
$40 to park…miles away…
Commemorative hot chocolate cups: sold out before I could get one.
Neither Crosby nor Ovechkin earned a point. Most disappointing rivalry ever!
Shitty bands: some band I can’t even recall and The Clarks (yawn). Styx, of course, played “Renegade.” At yet another Pittsburgh event - surprising. I would have enjoyed any other song.
Single moment that made it all worthwhile:
As we all shuffled down the exit ramp, instead of being surrounded by boastful or bitter words, the crowd was suddenly united, swept up into a chant of “Flyers suck!” A tear came to my eye. It was a great moment.
Overall, despite the painful loss (that I'm sure will hurt even more after Wednesday's 24/7), the Winter Classic was totally worthwhile. Though more ideal circumstances would have been preferred, it was a good time - something to experience that I might never get a chance to see again! I'm only sorry that I couldn't have spent a little more time cheering ecstatically and a little less time shaking my head in disbelief (I'm looking at you my sometimes fictitious boyfriend Fleury!).
Warm up
Crowd Shots
A Pickle of a Wedding in Pittsburgh
As some of you all may have heard, I am the best Maid of Honor ever. Okay, so I was technically a Matron of Honor, but that title sounds far too old. When I think of a matron, I for some reason imagine an elderly baroness running an orphanage somewhere in Europe. I am none of those things. Thus, I shall refer to myself as “maid” – husband be damned!
As I was saying, last weekend afforded me the opportunity to be a Maid of Honor for the very first time. My friend since second grade, Karen “Pickle” Clawson, married Will “Will” Cosmas in a fantastic ceremony at Phipps Conservatory in Pittsburgh. It feels like it’s been a long time coming, as I’ve been helping Karen with the arrangements for what seems like forever! The weekend finally came and went, and it was good.
From my previous posts that involve Karen, you may recall that she and Will live in Boston, but because (I can only assume) they wanted to save me some cash, they decided to have a true Pittsburgh wedding. To start it off, we had a wonderful dinner at Monterey Bay on the top of Mt. Washington where their many out-of-town guests were greeted with a wonderful view of the city. We all parked below the mountain after rehearsing the ceremony at Phipps and took that death box known as the Duquesne Incline to the top. All I can think when I ride one of those damn things is: “I wonder how old that cable is?” Luckily, no one noticed me nervously rocking and blabbering about death, as we were crammed in there pretty damn good.
At the rehearsal dinner, I was glad to be able to spend some quality time with Karen’s brother, Kenny. As close as Karen and I have been throughout our lives, I have also spent a lot of time with Kenny, and just like I always feel at ease – like I’m with family – when I’m with Karen, I feel the same with him. The only difference here is that Kenny is equally as naughty – and nerdy – as me. Dinner was a lot of fun, and I’m pretty sure that we were shushed several times from those around us.
Saturday morning, the time before the wedding was spent getting our hairs did. I tried my best to convince Karen that the Princess Leia look would really be fitting, but damn her limited imagination, she just could not handle the potential awesomeness. As far as I can see, I still have at least three weddings to be in, so I’ll take a moment to implore both my sisters and Mala to start considering the Princess Leia look now. Hell, I might even go so far as to suggest an all out Sci-Fi theme (I’m looking at you, Jamie). It blows my mind to even consider it.
Because I had to drive to the rehearsal dinner the night before, I began making up for lost time on Saturday with a bottle’s worth of mimosas. Normally I am not a champagne fan, but by 10 AM, I was ready to go! I’m pretty sure I was already drunk and sobering up by noon. After a nice lunch, we slathered ourselves in makeup and strapped on our dresses. Being that I helped pick out the dresses, I was pretty happy with it. It had straps, covered my ta-tas, reached the floor, and was a neutral champagne cover with just enough sparkle. Plus, I was wearing the best shoes – very pointy and sparkly (picture to follow).
There’s something about riding in a limo that is just undeniably exciting. Aside from my own wedding, the last time I had ridden in a limo was the one I took with 4 other couples to the senior prom, which I ironically shared with Karen and Mala (now one of Karen’s bridesmaids). With all the hairspray and shimmering fabric going on, we just couldn’t help but draw the comparison. I don’t know about you, but all I ever want to do when I’m in a limo is stick my head out a sunroof. Luckily for the sake of my hair, there wasn’t one, so I had to suffice with mocking people threw the tinted windows as they checked us out.
After hamming it up for the camera in some posed shots, muscling some people away from the bridal suite, and finagling several snaps and hooks on the back of Karen’s dress, the ceremony went off without a hitch. I think what I’ll always remember about the ceremony was the moment right before I walked out. As I stepped up to wait my turn, I turned to see Karen standing between the trimmed hedges with her father, and in a moment that was totally appropriate in every way, saw Karen in her beautiful dress chugging a bottle of booze, her father laughing at her side. Priceless.
Of course, I cried. I always cry. It could be a complete stranger getting married and I would weep like there was no tomorrow – it doesn’t matter. What is it about that moment when a bride walks down the aisle that is just tear inducing? Sometimes it’s the groom blubbering away or the father of the bride beaming with pride. I think it just has something to do with the relief of the moment – all the waiting and tension breaking and falling away as happiness just washes over everyone. I’m a sucker every time. The ceremony was short and sweet. The bride was radiant, and the groom wasn’t too shabby either, I guess. It wasn’t too sunny or hot out, butterflies flew around us as vows were made, and I got to hear a lovely string rendition of “Fields of Gold.” And then it time for the fun.
The reception was held under tents outside of Phipps. My tablemates: Parry (duh); Mala and her beau, Colin; Brian, step brother to the bride, and his lady love, Traci; and Timmy-freakin-Jones, high school friend. I knew right away that it would be a good night; this was one naughty table! The speeches were spread out, and I was set to present my masterpiece between the entre and the dessert, although I was just hoping to get it over as soon as humanly possible. Being that I am constantly in front of people in my work and my life, you’d think I’d be fine with public speaking, but for some reason I was literally shaking in my glittery shoes. It only made sense to drink as much wine as possible in as little time as possible, and thanks to the fact that Brian was palming entire bottles from the bar, my nerves were slightly soothed.
I thought my speech went well. I had been having some trouble writing something unique that hadn’t already been said, so a few days before the wedding I decided to let my 13 year old students write most of the speech for me. Since there is no point in being a teacher if you can’t use students as slave labor, I assigned my four English classes a writing prompt: Imagine that you are talking with someone in a relationship who plans on getting married. What advice would you give this person about how to have a long and happy relationship? This idea was quite fruitful, and I had several good lines – some quite poignant and others pretty funny. While I can’t remember them all now, my favorite answer was: “Don’t ask me…My parents see a counselor.” Despite my shaking hands, I managed to make it through the speech relatively unscathed. Back at school this week, it’s been a source of pride for the kids whose lines I used. It’s their moment of fame.
From this point on, the wedding becomes a spiral of dancing, drinking, and some hardcore fun. The DJ did something I found to be quite interesting: she played the music chronologically, so we started off with classic oldies, made our way through the 80’s and 90’s, and finished the night off with some JT and Lady Gaga. We danced and danced and danced, and after three stolen bottles of wine, my shoes were gone and walking to the bathroom in the rain was nothing short of exciting.
The wedding party stayed at the Sheridan in Station Square, and the limo showed up to transport a hell-of-a-lot of people back for the after party at the hotel bar. Here are some things I can recall about the rest of the night: Karen wearing a Steelers jersey over her wedding dress, asking Tim how many boobs he touched in high school in front of the boy he was trying to hook up with, laughing so hard I was crouched on the ground, laying my head on Karen’s back and or shoulder, Kenny taking a brigade to the casino after the bar started to close down, having a drink with Karen’s uncle who I hadn’t seen in years, and talking to many complete strangers and old friends.
Somehow, Parry and I ended up with a room that connected to Karen and Will’s. This was perhaps lucky for them, as Will needed some help with his new wife. I concluded my Maid of Honor duties in traditional fashion – holding up folds of white dress while the bride has herself a pee. Man, I am good. After a brunch at the Grand Concourse the next morning, the wedding festivities came to a close, and the weekend was finally over. When I have pictures – ones I like – I’ll post them, but for now, here are two crappy cellphone pictures and a stolen video of the happy couple’s first dance (thanks to Ginny Cain who I stole this video from):
Sir Paul at the Consol Energy Center
Yesterday, I saw the best show of my life. Not only that, but I got to see it in a sparkling new stadium. I’m writing this the morning after, and can I still feel residual excitement in my skin. (I can also feel something “residual” in my eardrum. Attending a rock show with a busted eardrum? Probably not wise – but so worth it.) My husband, Parry, and I, as well as my sister and her boyfriend (shout out to Jim!) were among the 18,000+ people who got to see Sir Paul McCartney play at the Consol Energy Center Thursday night, but for those of you who weren’t so lucky, let me give you the breakdown.
It goes without saying that Paul McCartney is a big enough draw on his own, but the Pittsburgh crowd seemed equally amped to see the new arena. We arrived at the CEC before the front doors were opened and the lines were down the block. People occupied themselves ogling any bit of arena they could see through the giant wall of windows before them. Despite the lines’ length, we were through the doors mere minutes after they opened. We walked around the new dig slack-jawed and awed. Here are two helpful tips for those who will be visiting the CEC in the future: First, your tickets are no longer checked at the door. They are actually scanned inside before you go up the steps to get to your seats. This means, I assume, that people without tickets can get in and shop at the awesome-looking new Pens store right at the entrance. Second, the box office is inside the building next to the store. You have to go into the lower Trib Total Media Entrance to get there.
I just thought of a third thing I wanted to mention, too. We parked in the new garage that is attached to the arena. The cost was $20, but it was something new, so we tried it. What is really nice about parking there was the ease of leaving. There are doors on each floor of the arena that lead right into the garage. I think that perhaps the majority of people didn’t realize the doors were there, as we were two of four people I saw using them. We literally went from our seats to our car to the open road in 4 minutes. I can definitely see the plus in parking there.
Parry’s first comment upon our entrance into the arena was, “Where’s the familiar urine smell?” Ha! Everything is so clean and white and fresh. It smells like “new” – that plastic-y, just unwrapped new smell. What I like best about the arena is that it is truly a home for the Penguins. Columns and walls are filled with pictures of players, past and present, and everything is there for the Pens. The players must be so happy to have such a place. As for the seating, the aisles and the seats are wider. Yeah! The jumbotron, which was pulled up to the (flat) ceiling and not used for the concert looks really nice and big. I just don’t think there is a bad seat in that place. I cannot wait to see my first game there. Hockey fans are in for a real treat.
Paul McCartney took the stage about 45 minutes late (both days I hear – what a diva), but the crowd didn’t seems to care. He played for roughly three hours straight and sang 37 songs (suck it Wednesday night people - we got three more songs than you!), covering songs from the Beatles to present day. He played the bass, acoustic and electric guitar, ukulele, mandolin, and a grand and upright piano. He switched instruments between almost every song, bringing out instrument after instrument to, as he put it, “show off.” That classic Hofner bass was there, as well as the original guitar he used to record “Eleanor Rigby” for Sgt. Pepper. As far as the “show” aspect of the concert went, the lighting and effects were modest but very cool to look at. There were also some awesome fireworks and explosions used in “Live and Let Die” and a bunch of confetti rained down on the crowd at the end of the show. During the Beatles songs, old footage played in the background, and I noticed that during “The End” the video from the closing scene from Beatles Rock Band was playing. Each song had a different look and feel when it came to the set, and I remember leaning over to Parry at least a half dozen times to say “Look at that!” or “Isn’t that cool?”
On stage, Paul was commanding. He was as charming and flirtatious as I expected him to be, winking and giggling, making silly jokes and being all around cheeky. Despite being 68 years old, Paul was full of energy, and let me tell you ladies, the sex appeal is still there. While he wasn’t running back and forth doing back flips, he did bop around the stage and dance at the mic, shaking his ass for the camera. What struck both Parry and I the most was how much he was enjoying himself. There was a genuine smile on his face through the entire show, and there were many long moments when he seemed to just be reveling in the limelight. His communication with the crowd was great, and he bantered back and forth, commenting on signs and telling some great stories. Among his tales were stories about Jimi Hendrix, Eric Clapton, the Russian/Soviet defense minister, and, of course, his fellow Beatles, John and George (no mention of Ringo, poor boy). There was also a proposal in the crowd (during “My Love”), a baby who got some screen time, and a girl who got her upper thigh signed on stage (lucky bitch).
I thought Paul sounded great. You could tell, at the end of the night, that his voice was getting tired and a few of the higher notes were brought down or skimmed over, but on songs like “Helter Skelter” or “I Got a Feeling” he pulled off that necessary roughness. I was in no way disappointed by the sound quality. His playing skills were impressive to watch, and you could tell that playing a chord and plucking a string is so ingrained in who he is that there isn’t really any effort needed. I’m always unhappy with arena concerts in that the audience more often than not chooses to stay seated. For the second half of the concert, however, people were happy (and drunk) enough to want to dance, so we were up and moving. Everyone was singing and swaying, and lighters (and cellphones) lit up the crowd. It was an all-in-all comfortable and celebratory crowd.
If you’ve hung out with me for even two minutes in the last year and a half, you know that I’m a bit Beatles obsessed. I’ve been a huge Beatles fan since my teenage years, but the more recent re-release of their albums really proved to me how incredible they were. While John is by far my favorite Beatles, seeing Paul McCartney play was huge for me. This was probably my one and only chance to see a member of not only my favorite band, but also the biggest band of all time. Watching Paul on stage and just thinking about all the music I’ve listened to, all the books I’ve read and movies I’ve watched – thinking about the sheer history behind him and his music – I was a bit in awe. Not surprising to anyone who knows me, I did find myself actually in tears twice. Once was when Paul sang “Here Today,” a song he wrote for John after his death that makes me cry every single time I hear it. The other time I teared up was during “Yesterday,” I think because the lady behind me was bawling. Crying is contagious for me – I just can’t help it. I was happy that Paul sang “Something” and had a little montage dedicated to George. Not only did Paul sing “Here Today” for John, but he also sang a mishmash of “A Day in the Life” and “Give Peace a Chance,” which was just lovely.
In all, it was a thrilling night that I hope I can relive in the future (don’t die Paul!). Parry and I took a few videos which you can see here: Videos. Many of the videos only cover the first few seconds of songs, as I wanted to capture a few classics while not ruining the moment by having to hold my phone up the whole time. In many of them you can hear me singing or screaming; I apologize ahead of time. A few of them are pretty cool though. There are also some pictures of the arena and concert here: Pictures. Below, I’ve included the one song that Parry filmed in whole: “Yesterday” and a clip of the crowd singing “Hey Jude.” Enjoy!
The Great Ear Injury of 2010
This blog is dedicated to Angela, my sister, who I have written about on this blog several times. She is known to have done a stupid thing or two throughout her life. This story is to make her feel better about all those things I tease her about mercilessly.
I’m a Q-tip fanatic. I adore them. I love them enough to have a pet name for them: ear squeegee. After every shower, I shove an ear squeegee in my ear hole because I no longer have the capacity to ignore the smallest drop of liquid anywhere near my inner ear.
So, Friday was a morning like every other. Wrapped in a towel, I stood in front of the bathroom mirror, clearing my ears, thinking about how I had dragged my ass out of bed at 6am for some blood work scheduled for 7. In the next second, something happened. I honestly don’t remember what. As I reached up and placed the Q-tip along the rim of my right ear, there was a noise or a movement – something suddenly caught my attention. Perhaps it was just my stomach rumbling, as I hadn’t eaten or had anything to drink in 12 hours (for the blood work). Perhaps Bunting chose that moment to push open the bathroom door. Or perhaps my body just decided to betray me and suddenly begin twitching at the most inopportune moment. Whatever it was, something caused my head to turn in the exact opposite direction of my Q-tip armed hand.
Have you ever had an inner ear injury? The pain is in your head – it’s everywhere – and it echoes through your whole body like a sickening fire. I was momentarily too stunned to recognize this pain. My hand closed around the end of the Q-tip protruding from the side of my head and pulled. As it came free from the ear, it was like a cork unleashing a tidal wave of pain. Clutching the side of my head, I exited the bathroom and had the good sense to call to Parry: “Parry? I think I just hurt myself bad.”
I wobbled my way into the bedroom, by then the side of my head a blaring siren. I winced my eyes closed and leaned over, my knees on the floor and my head in a pile of clean laundry on the top of the bed. At some point, Parry came into the room, and somehow, with my face smashed into bedspread, I explained to him what I did. I remember that I wanted to cry but I couldn’t do anything but gasp for breath and hold my head. I looked up, and suddenly my stomach clenched and I knew I was about to vomit. I stood up and a wave of vertigo washed over me. I reached out for the wall, and the next thing I knew, I was on the ground.
I’m not sure why I passed out. It could have been the extreme pain or dizziness brought on by inner ear injury. Parry suggests that I have trained myself to pass out when I need to vomit, as I’m deathly afraid to puke (this is a very likely suggestion). Whatever the reason, I found myself on the floor while a panicked Parry loomed over me. He said that for the few seconds I was unconscious I was speaking in tongues. Cool.
My ear hurt. But the dizziness had become manageable and the need to puke had passed. I got myself up and managed to pull myself together. We cancelled my blood work appointment, and I sat on the couch until I came to the realization that my ear wasn’t getting better. Aside from the throbbing along the side of my head and the sharp pain the accompanied burping, swallowing, hiccuping, or yawning, I felt like I was hearing through an ocean of water. I have never been to the emergency room (for myself), and this didn’t seem like a true emergency situation as blood wasn’t pouring out of my head.
I have to tell you, I felt like a complete ass. Parry really had to convince me to seek out medical attention because I didn’t even want to tell anyone what I had done. “I shoved a Q-tip in too far.” God. How embarrassing. The thought of being permanently deaf brought me to my senses though. We settled on MedExpress (another place I’ve never been).
Luckily the doctor didn’t laugh at me outright. She actually told me that it happens a lot. I reassured her that, yes, I did know that Q-tip were not meant to clean the ear and that, no, I would not be subjecting myself to a future ear-cleaning. I was thankful for the lack of open mockery (as I’m sure I will receive here). I was told that my eardrum, which is normally clear like Saran wrap, was bright purple and bent inward where it had been hit. I was lucky: no perforation. I was given some pain meds and ear drops. A follow up appointment was made for a few days later. I was told to look for blood and pus leaking from the ear (EW!), as there was a good chance my eardrum would rupture.
Over the next few days, I took the pills and the drops (ten drops at a time – ahhhhh, I hate it!), but by Monday, although the pain was largely dulled, I still felt like I was hearing through water. There had been a small amount of blood in my ear on several occasions, as well. I also occasionally felt dizzy and there was, at times, a great deal of pressure in my head.
Tuesday was my return trip to the doctor, and I got the news I suspected: I had at some point perforated the eardrum. A new round of antibiotics were prescribed (these are seriously the biggest pills I’ve ever seen!!!), and I was sent on my way for a week of healing (let’s hope). I still can’t hear worth a good god damn, but most of the pain is gone (as I’m doped up). It’s really uncomfortable, having an inner ear injury. It just bothers you all the time – you feel weird. Sometimes I hear ringing, and most of the time I’m saying “huh?” whenever someone talks to me.
So, if you see me out and about in the next few weeks and you call out to me from across the way but I don’t answer, don’t hold it against me. I’m an idiot who broke my own ear with a Q-tip. [hanging head in shame].
To Kindle or not to Kindle
As a four year anniversary gift in July, my husband bought me the new generation Kindle DX. Ever since the Kindle and all the other e-readers made their debut, I’ve been debating whether or not I even like the idea of an electronic book. I was simultaneously attracted by its appeal and repelled by its coldness. I talked often about getting one, but couldn’t get past the “thinking about it” phase. Finally, in what I deem to be the riskiest gift my husband has ever given me, the choice was taken out of my hands and a sleek, black machine was slipped into its place.
Many people claim to be avid, rabid readers, and I am no different; however, reading isn’t just a hobby or a passion for me – it’s also my job. Additionally, my life will most likely center on the written word long after I’m done teaching – whether it be through reading or writing. Books are simply my life. I would have to estimate my current collection of books to be nearing the thousand mark. My shelves are so full that I’ve had to turn all my books sideways and begun to stack up, and my wall space just can’t handle one more shelf. There is nothing I like more than going to the book store, and I’ve been known to spend more money on books than on clothes or food. A library, for me, is pretty much unheard of. I want to own a book – to bring it home and look through it, to write in it, to lend it out, to be able to go back to it at any time. Cicero said, “A room without books is like a body without a soul” – a sentiment that I’ve always subscribed to.
So, when I found myself suddenly holding my new Kindle in my hands, I had mixed emotions. A new gadget is always fun and cool, but I somehow felt like I was dishonoring the room filled with books that lay right down the hall. The Kindle itself is a simple devise. I was pleased to see that there was no software to install on the device or my computer, that there was one cord to connect and charge the device, and the directions were so simple that they came on a single page. There’s nothing I hate more than getting something new and having to wait forever while things charge, download, etc. The Kindle was plug in and go.
Parry was smart enough to know that I liked the larger screen better, so he got me the Kindle that has a 9.7” screen. It’s about the size of a hardback book, and while some might argue that the larger size makes the devise too cumbersome, I say it’s a definite plus. My Kindle is paper thin and very light; the big screen makes it feel more like a real book – honestly. Now, I know that people say that a lot: “It’s just like a book!” I’m here to tell you that it pretty much is. I never really got distracted by the fact that I wasn’t reading a “real” book. The screen has little to no glare, and it actually looks a lot like a real printed page. While there are a few “experimental” aspects to this version (MP3 player and an Internet browser), the Kindle really only does one thing, but it does it well – which is exactly what I want. I don’t need email and apps, etc. Just let me read!
Positives?
- The Kindle is easy to hold while reading. It is really nice not to have to hold the pages down while lounging outside or on the couch. I bought a nifty cover with mine that folds back into a stand. I love it! When I read in bed, I can balance the Kindle in front of me and my hands are free! I have also stood the Kindle up to read while I’m cooking or typing.
- Buying books is (too) easy. There are two ways to buy books through Amazon: I can search Amazon through the Kindle or I can use my computer. When I buy a book on my computer, it sends the book to the Kindle without having to connect the devices. The books take only around twenty seconds to appear! For someone who could shop for a buy books all day, this is quite dangerous! There is free 3G on the Kindle, so I can pretty much connect from anywhere I want at no cost.
- You can organize all your books on the homepage of the device. I can make as many shelves as I want, and assigning the books is simple. Being that the Kindle can hold 3,500 books, this is a good thing.
- Books written before the 1920’s are free. No copyright! Woohoo!
- If I come across a word in any book that I don’t know, I can highlight it and instantly get a definition at the bottom of the screen! This is the coolest thing ever. (You can also highlight passages that you like and save them to a folder on the home screen).
- This baby stays charged. I read two books in a row on my Kindle, and I didn’t have to plug it in once. As long as you aren’t turning pages, the Kindle uses very little energy, so the charge lasts for weeks at a time. Excellent.
- The “reading experience” can be adjusted to meet the reader’s needs. Are you getting old and find that you can no longer see the tiny print in a book? Well, with the Kindle you can easily grow (or shrink) your text. You can also flip your screen sideways to expand the page out. There’s an experimental voice reader, as well. Although it sounds like an evil robot now, the reader gets pretty much all the words right. I imagine this would be a lifesaver for some readers.
Negatives?
- Books really aren’t much cheaper. I do see some good deals with new books that are still in hardback form, but these aren’t like $.99 mp3’s here. You’re can still pay $10+ bucks for a book.
- Cost. If you want the bigger Kindle, it’s going to cost you. While you can buy some of their older or smaller models for a lot less, buying a Kindle/e-reader can seem risky. Technology is changing and updating quickly and a new version comes out every year. Do you spend the money on something that might be out of date in just a few months?
- Short stories and collections can be a little hard to navigate. Unless you are reading an e-book specifically made for the Kindle that contains a navigable table of context, you have to page through or search to reach your poem/story/etc.
- A lack of emotional attachment. Of course, there are things that an electronic book will never be able to recreate: the smell of pages, the creak of a new spine, the worn cover of a beloved favorite, the feel of a rough page between your fingers, the act of turning the pages…
I wish I had had this device in college. Having all my school books in one place would have been so nice. I also think that if you like to cook/bake and you have a lot of cookbooks, this would be perfect. You can easily prop it up while you cook! I imagine that it will make me more selective in my book buying – saving the trips to the book store for those “special” reads. There are books that I have to buy for my class or my book club that I can get fast and cheap(er) on the Kindle, and I look forward to never having to make an emergency trip to the book store (yes, I do often have to do this).
While I’m always going to buy “real” books, I now have the option of immediacy. The Kindle is also going to be great for travel! It’s a shame that I didn’t get it until after our trip to Europe! In ways, I still feel conflicted about the Kindle, but I am growing to love it more and more each day. Since I’ve gotten it, I’ve read both electronic and paper books, and switching between the two is simple and seamless. For the self-proclaimed book lover out there, I think you need to give the Kindle (or any e-reader) a try. Why limit your reading experience? How many times will you be able to participate in a literary revolution like this one! Adding a little technology to your reading experience is not as scary as we all think it will be.
European Vacation - Paris
I loved the hotel we stayed in so much, that I want to give it a solid shoutout here. Our room was beautiful – classically French with its busy wallpaper and two balconies overlooking the street. We stayed outside of the main tourist areas, so we were basically in the middle of a residential section of the city. It was quiet (well, as quiet as it can be in a major city) and gorgeous. Over the few days that we stayed in France, we spent a few nights at the hotel’s bar (drinking an entire bottle of wine on my own in one night – I’m so proud) and also tasted their delectable room service (perhaps the best food we had in France). The bartender, David, was apparently as friendly to everyone in the hotel as he was to us as the bar was filled each night with faces from around the world (all of them English speaking, ironically enough) who stopped in for a drink just to talk with him. We made some friends at that bar, and talking about our day and our observations over a glass of wine or beer made us feel comfortable and at home. If anyone is going to Paris, I strongly recommend you consider the Victoria Palace.
For our first night in France, we had a pre-ordered ticket to go to the top of the Eiffel Tower. Looking at our map, we decided that we could walk it, even though the Eiffel Tower was definitely quite a distance from our hotel. Honestly, we didn’t want to bother with the Metro and we hadn’t needed to resort to a taxi yet on our trip. Also, we figured it would be a nice way to see the city. So off we went on foot. Upon leaving our hotel and turning right, we were immediately lost for the first of many, many times. The streets in Paris all look the same and there are A LOT of them crisscrossing in every direction. Walking in a direction that in the end doubled the distance we had to cover, we did eventually make it to the Eiffel Tower, and along the way we walked along the Seine and saw many beautiful places (Grand Palace, Invalides). For hours we just strolled around, relaxing in the parks and taking in the city.
The biggest difference between Paris and London (aside from the graffiti covering everything in Paris) was the tourists. In Paris, the tourists seemed to stick strictly to the main attractions – perhaps afraid to venture off into the city – whereas in London, people were evenly dispersed everywhere. This heavy concentration of foreigners led, unfortunately, to really long lines in all of the major places – the Eiffel Tower being the worst. Now, luckily since we had pre-ordered a ticket, we got through the first line easily. It was 10:00 pm when we started our ascent. In Paris, the sun doesn’t go down until nearly 11, so it was still sunny. Once on the second floor (the middle) of the tower, you get off the elevator and have to wait in another line to go to the top. Herein lay the rub. This line took over an hour. Yes, there was a nice view while we waited, but it was packed up there! We stuck it out and eventually made our way to the top. By this time, the sun was setting, and we were able to see Paris – the City of Lights – at nighttime. It was lovely, and I was glad in a way that it had taken us so long to reach the top.
Coming back down, we had to wait in another line and were nearly stampeded getting into the elevator. We were back on the ground before midnight. As we watched, the Eiffel Tower (pink during the day and a bright, glowing gold at night) began to sparkle (the four seconds I caught on camera and out trip up the elevator can be seen here: VIDEOS), and crowds gathered beneath the bows to watch. This is when something quite terrible happened. Right behind us a man got hit by a car, and I’m pretty sure he was dead. The man who was hit was one the many men who were selling souvenir towers to tourists on the streets. The other vendors ran to help, blocking traffic, but when the cops showed up, it became clear that there was some kind of long-standing problem between the two groups. Soon, and for a reason we could not discern, fighting broke out between the vendors and the cops (the guy who had been hit just left in the road). Batons and pepperspray came out, and after hanging around for awhile, entranced by the chaos, we decided to escape before the riot made it down to us. It was a little scary, and I honestly have to say that I was a bit shaken up at this point. We headed back to our hotel, vowing this time to take a more direct route.
Having wasted time watching the bedlam, I was dismayed to realize that it was nearing 1 AM at this point. We had just seen a dead man and a riot, we didn’t speak the language, and soon enough we were completely lost. We were determined to make it back to our hotel, and with a lot of fast walking and map checking, we managed to make it back in one piece. It was a stressful first night, but exhilarating in some strange way.
Over the next few days, we visited many places; however, we got far less done than we did in London. Paris is a much slower moving city. People crowd into cafes that litter every corner, smoking and drinking at all hours (one American couple we ran into asked, “Don’t these people ever work?”). Also, because lines were longer in most places we wanted to go, we started skipping around more, knowing that it would be impossible to see it all. We did eventually master the Metro (much easier than we thought it would be) which helped our poor feet tremendously. We went to Notre Dame (gorgeous), the Arc de Triomphe (in the middle of the craziest intersection/roundabout in the world), the Louvre (so big we actually got lost), and the Musee d'Orsay (just like Doctor Who!). We window shopped along the Champs-Elysees. We saw a cheesy burlesque show (45 of Paris’ top topless women!!).We visited Pere Lachaise, an old cemetery where Oscar Wilde, Chopin, Jim Morrison, and a bunch of famous people are buried. The cemetery is miles wide, and the dead people are crammed in there like sardines. It was fun to search for the famous people (with the aid of a map that gave you the area they were in). A lot of the tombs and crypts were in ruins and were quite spooky, but the place had a certain measure of tranquility to it overall.
We also spent a day at Versailles. Do the French know how to be over-the-top opulent or what?! Check out the pictures of this place – gold and crystal everywhere! No wonder there were a few heads lost over time. It is crazy packed in Versailles, but the key is to walk to the back of the grounds where all the lazy tourists don’t go. After touring the main palace, we went out to the gardens and embarked on a 60 minute walk through the hedge mazes to the back where there a few “small” palaces (the Grand Trianon, the Petit Trianon, and the Hameau de la reine). These recreational palaces were huge. The hamlet was by far the best; so peaceful and perfect. Definitely worth it.
When we decided to go to Paris, one of the first things I put on the “to do” list was a visit to the Catacombs, so on our last day there, we set out south. The Catacombs, for obvious reasons I think, are a far less touristy place. There are no signs or buildings or gift shops. A simple metal door in the middle of an unmarked building carries a small sign that you wouldn’t even be able to read from across the street. There was, despite all of this, quite a lengthy line. I was really surprised about this, and I was even more shocked to find that after standing in the line for 45 minutes, we really hadn’t moved more than a few feet. After some investigation, I figured out why: only 200 people are allowed to be in the tombs at once. Being that it’s nearly a 2 mile trek underground, the going was quite slow. We stuck it out, as I was more excited than ever after seeing a warning next to the door that people with heart conditions, children, or nervous conditions should not go in.
When it was our turn to enter, we did so on our own – no groups or tour – just me and Parry descending 182 stone spiral steps into darkness. Nothing has been touched underground. Other than a few lights that barely illuminate the tunnels enough to walk through, there are no changes made to anything – no ropes, no plastic, no handles, etc. When you reach the bottom of the steps you are in a dark, narrow, low-ceilinged, cold (around 55 degrees), wet walkway. It was truly frightening. Once you’re down, there is no way to get back up other than to walk through to the end. Also, there are only employees positioned in two or three key places throughout the entire catacombs, so it was basically just me and Parry – not one other person could be seen ahead of us for the first half of our walk. We set off with trepidation, and I snapped random pictures for the sake of the flash. I honestly didn’t know what to expect down there, and I would have been happy just being in the tunnels, but what I didn’t know was that the tomb was yet to come.
At some point, right before entering the actual tombs, we ran into a school tour, so we were no longer alone in the dark. Turning the corner, we nearly pooped ourselves. The actually tomb part of the catacombs consists of walls made completely of skulls and leg/arm bones. The bones are just piled there – anyone could touch or take them (they search people on the way out for bones). I kept poking the skulls, to Parry’s dismay. It was absolutely insane – the most unique, crazy thing I’ve seen. The pictures don’t do it justice, but for those of you who love a bit of the macabre, this is the stop for you.
When it was time to leave France, we were truly sad. In fact, we still are. Just as we were settled in – just as we were getting comfortable speaking and getting around – it was time to leave. Sure, Parry had ordered food wrong and been chastised by an angry French woman in some café… Sure, we had seen riots and been lost in the middle of the night in the middle of nowhere… Sure, our feet needed nothing short of amputation… But we didn’t want to leave. After a shitty plane ride home, we got our dog (who was relieved to have us back) and returned to our sweltering house in South Park (101 degrees – way to turn off the air conditioning me).
I’m sure there’s a lot more to say, but I just can’t type anymore!!! Check out the videos here: VIDEOS Enjoy the pictures here: Pictures
European Vacation - London
As you know, I’ve recently returned from a holiday across the pond. On this, my first major trip outside of the country, my husband and I visited England and France with the majority of our time spent in London and Paris. For me, this trip was a dream that has been a long time coming – to see the places I’ve read and studied about for so long. Knowing me, you would not be surprised to find that the motivations for many of my visitations on this trip were brought about by literary connections, but we also made sure to enjoy the classic tourist traps and to try to soak in as much of the cities’ ambiance as possible.
Before any of these things could be experienced or enjoyed, however, a major hurdle had to be faced. Perhaps the main reason as to why I had not previously taken the journey across Atlantic, flying has become nothing short of torture for me. Most people I know claim to suffer discomfort while flying, but over the years my dislike of flying has turned into a full-blown terror. In the end, having decided that I would have to put fears aside if I wanted to ever get anywhere, I put this trip together considering the flying to be a necessary evil. Still, this didn’t give me any comfort in the weeks (and even months) preceding the trip. As the day of our journey loomed in sight, I suffered several panic attacks – I actually broke down two days before, hyper-ventilating and crying. What is it about flying that gets to me? It’s hard to explain. My all encompassing thought is usually how wrong flying is – how we’re not supposed to hurtle through the air in nothing more than an elongated tin can. Also, I have trouble putting my life in the hands of god-knows-who. Every dip or bump or turn makes me think about how it would feel to just fall out of the air. My stomach is a constant knot of panic, and my hands cannot be pried loose from the armrest or my husband’s arm. If the plane were to spontaneously explode, I would have no issues at all. But what if the power or the engine failed? To know for all that time what you’re hurtling toward? No good at all.
In preparation for my flights (Pittsburgh to Chicago, Chicago to London), I procured some Xanax. To my dismay, the Xanax didn’t really seem to do anything, but luckily because we were on the red eye and because I had been up for days consumed with anxiety and party planning, I fell asleep (albeit in an extremely cramped and uncomfortable position) for the majority of the, I’ll admit it, pretty smooth flight. I did cry one or two times, but as a whole, I managed to hold it together quite well.
In London, we stayed at the Apex City Hotel right next to the Tower of London. We had pre-arranged transportation from the airport (expensive, but oh so convenient and worthwhile), so in the car we could soak up the city with no fear of being lost. We also had the obligatory World Cup chat with the driver (the poor Brits were in mourning). Arriving at our very modern and somewhat posh hotel, I quickly unpacked our clothing, and we headed directly out to the Tower. Thus began our non-stop journey. Over the course of four and a half days, we visited the Tower of London (a fun place with tons of history – and the crown jewels), the National Gallery/the Tate Modern (great art), Buckingham and Kensington Palace (didn’t go in either, but the outside was impressive), West Minster Abbey (so pretty – one of the best stops on the trip; Poet’s Corner – yeah), the British Museum (so many stolen treasures), the Globe Theater (where we were treated to part of a rehearsal of Henry IV, part II), and the British Library (a quiet gem of a stop – a reader’s dream; Chaucer, Beowulf, Shakespeare, etc. plus, original hand-written Beatles lyrics that I could have stared at forever). We also saw the sights, like Tower Bridge, the Millennium Wheel (the London Eye), Big Ben/Parliament, and many others. We spent one morning at Windsor Palace (a worthy side trip), and I visited Abbey Road (a dream come true).
So, what is London like? Well, it’s sort of like here in some ways – at least I thought so. The city itself is an odd mixture of old and new. It is clean and vibrant, and the energy of the people there reminds me of home. In the day, people are focused on work – things move quickly and efficiently. In the evening, people are out and about. The pubs and the streets are filled with people hanging out. Generally, everyone was really fun, nice, and polite to us in London. People were laid back and honest with their opinions. You felt like you could walk up to a group of people at a pub and be welcomed into the conversation easily – tourist or not. Unlike Paris, which would take us a few days to get used to, we were almost immediately comfortable and relaxed in London. In all, the city was gorgeous, and despite the fact that there were a billion tourists everywhere, things were never too “touristy.”
The two things that people seem to want to know about are transportation and food/drink. Our main mode of transportation around the city was our feet. We walked and we walked and we walked. We walked until our feet felt like nothing more than bloody stumps, and then we walked for more. We also rode the Underground – a feat that was marvelously simple after you figured it out. Admittedly, we did take a wrong train once in our first attempt to get to a site, but after that one blunder, we were all good. The same cannot be said about our accuracy on foot. It is marvelously easy to get lost in a city, and an old city like London (and ever more so in Paris) is filled with streets and crossings that tangle every which way. A good map is a must. And let me tell you this now if you plan on traveling abroad for the first time: do not be embarrassed to admit you are lost. Stop where you are and take out that map until you know what’s up. There are four hundred other people on that same street doing the same thing. The few times when we insisted we could figure it out on our own… well, we walked a lot more than necessary at times.
As for the food, Parry participated in many traditional dishes, eating sausages and fish and chips. My food mission was simple. At home, my favorite meal is my mother’s shepherd’s pie. Hers is made with corn, onion, hamburger, and mashed potatoes (I’ve seen hers with peas, as well). I was hopeful that I would find an authentic version, and I did. Traditionally, shepherd’s pie is made with lamb, and in a small pub in Windsor, I had a dish that could rival my mother’s (sorry mom). Man, was that delicious! I accompanied it with a bit of Guinness, and I felt that my UK experience was truly solidified. We had beer everywhere we went – for me, this is a big deal. Parry was in heaven.
Lastly, I want to tell you about my favorite part of the trip. We took a day to travel – by train – to Stratford-upon-Avon, a small town two hours outside of London. This is the birthplace of Shakespeare. He also spent a great deal of his later life living and writing here. The little house where Shakespeare was born is still standing (his “mansion” sadly was destroyed). The small town is straight out of the past. The houses are all old and beautiful. The restored ones are filled with furniture from the 16th/17th century. Touring these old houses and seeing how people lived was so amazing, but the best part of the trip (aside from the best tomato soup I’ve ever eaten and a beer at the famous Black Swan pub, AKA the Dirty Duck), was the Royal Shakespeare Company’s performance of King Lear – perhaps the main reason for the entire trip in my eyes (we chose the dates of our trip to correspond with the only matinee performance). For three and a half hours, I sat in the fairly simple theater, watching characters on a small stage with no real sets completely transfixed. For the scene where Lear goes out into the storm, a small platform big enough for two (a bare Lear and his helpless fool) arose from the stage, and in the single spotlight, as thunder and lightning crashed around them, rain fell from the roof on the mad king. It was gut wrenching and beautiful, and at the end as tragedy comes crashing down upon poor Lear, I couldn’t help but cry. It was perfect. (Also, oddly enough, I realized as I was watching the play that it was the first time I had seen a Shakespeare performance live where all the actors had British accents).
At the end of our time in England, we jumped on the Eurostar (perhaps the best mode of transportation I have ever taken: spacious, comfortable seats, a good meal, and great views) for the two hour journey through the Chunnel through the gorgeous French country-side to our little hotel in Paris. As this post is already quite long enough, I’m going to save the Paris parts for another day in the near future. To go through the entire trip in detail would be nearly impossible. Instead, I’m posting all of my pictures from the first part of the trip in my gallery now. Check out the slideshow for best viewing and read their descriptions for detailed information. Sadly, many places would not allow photography inside. The places that allowed pictures often would not allow flash, so the pictures are largely relegated to exteriors, but I think you’ll get the point. There are still over 400 pictures! Enjoy! London Pictures
LOST - Finale Reactions and Thoughts
I have so many thoughts about LOST’s finale that I didn’t even know where to begin. So, I watched it a second time, and now I’m just going to jump right in, but if my ramblings are strung together a bit incoherently or the order of my ideas is inconsistent, please forgive me. To me, a person who loves nothing more in life than a well-constructed and executed story – LOST has been a real experience. I’ve loved it all, and I loved its conclusion. The more I think about it, the more satisfied I am.
The first few minutes of LOST’s finale seemed somehow, for me, to be telling ones. The episode begins with flashes that alternate between island and sideways characters: Jack is in his office, looking at an X-ray and also in the stream, mulling over his new role as island guardian; Ben is making tea and also looking at Locke with something like dread in his eyes; Locke is heading off to surgery while (F)Locke coils rope; Kate sits in a car with Desmond but is also watching Jack from behind a tree. The Losties are divided; they are who they are, but they can’t let go of who they thought they should/would be – what they expected of their lives.
This show has very much been about the characters wanting to be free of the island – wanting to escape their destinies. Do they have the free will to just be able to walk away from it all? I say yes. Jacob didn’t have any choice when it came to his fate, so he made sure to give all his candidates a measure of free will. He can bring them to the island and point them at certain questions and truths, but in the end, it’s their choice. Jack decides to become the island’s protector; Kate decides to save Claire – they make these tough decisions and are rewarded by becoming better people. I feel that destiny and free will can indeed coexist. Many cultures have believed in both (the Greeks, for example). In LOST terms, Jack had a destiny: to save the island. Within that destiny, he made choices as to whether to do what he was supposed to or not. When he chose to try to escape his destiny, Jack was (self?) punished. He could have continued to run away, but in the end, he has to give in to it if he ultimately wants peace.
In my English class, I’m currently teaching my students about Joseph Campbell’s idea of the monomyth – the idea that humanity keeps telling the same story over and over again. There is a hero who is sent on an adventure in a strange land. The hero has an apotheosis – he realizes something about life and becomes a new person based on their new ideals. The hero must reconcile who he was with who he has become, and once he does this, he can reap a reward for his heroics. This is the journey of each of the characters, especially Jack.
I’ve been struggling with the sideways world and what it all “means,” but as I spend more time thinking about how it fits together, I’m starting to believe that our characters were just not ready to reconcile their two sides. They were clinging to who they once were and the possibilities of what their lives could have been without the island’s interference. They’ve created a world – the world as they think it should/would have happened. Sayid thinks that he is a killer deep down, so in this world, he still is a killer (albeit still with a heart filled with hope and good intentions). Jack thinks he could have fixed his problems and been a better father than Christian was to him, so that’s what he gets. They are putting off the inevitable – unable, perhaps, to say this is not who I ended up being. Even in this self-created world, however, the characters are drawn together, like they know the truth of it all somewhere way down deep. The sideways world shows them how things could be, but its real purpose is to prove to the Losties once and for all that they belong together.
A key line from this show has always been “live together, die alone.” While it’s true that the Losties lived together and Jack died alone (if you don’t count Vincent – holy god was that too much for me to handle), in the end, they are all together again. It’s almost like they are “living together” again. Whatever is going to happen to them next (Heaven, some other reality, reincarnation), they will face it together. This is their reward. Once they remember and realize that the island was what made them who they always wanted to be and that the island was what their life was all about, they can choose to move on. Jack, obstinate until the last, takes a little bit longer than everyone else, but in the end, even he can let go. Imagine that moment for Jack when he touches Christian’s coffin, when he sees his heroic story and recognizes all he had done – how much he grew and changed. He cries in his father’s arms, I think, out of relief and happiness once he realizes he’s dead. He knows that his life had a purpose and that he did something that really mattered.
No other moment simply encompassed the elation I felt watching this episode than the moment Hurley first sees Charlie in the hotel. Hurley’s eye sparkle with tears and you can see the happiness on his face. It doesn’t matter how good Hurley’s “sideways life” is, his island memories and friends are the best of what could ever happen to him. At every flash of memory in this episode, I cried like a little baby. Charlie/Claire and Sawyer/Juliet were the moments I was at my worst. And of course the whole ending was seen through a sheen of tears. I always thought Jack would die at the end, and I found his death to be perfect in every way. I also liked that Hurley got to be the protector – the Jedi master. He was the purest of all the characters, and it seemed that he was the obvious choice all along. I think that Hurley's rules for the game will be much more fair and understanding than Jacob's - a man who had just as many flaws as any other person.
There are so many other things that I enjoyed about this episode. There was some classic humor (Sawyer calling Lapidus “Chesty” or Lapidus asking Miles to fix the plane with duct tape). The acting was superb (Matthew Fox = Emmy). The Flocke/Jack fight scene on the cliff was just epic. I also thoroughly enjoyed all the “mirror images” from past scenes (Jack telling Desmond “I’ll see you in another life, brother” stands out in my mind). Yes, I have lingering questions (Did Jughead serve to do nothing other than move our characters in time and act as a red herring for viewers? Why wasn’t Christian in his coffin in season one when Jack found his coffin?), but I’m really glad that not every question was answered. What made LOST a special show was that you had to think about it; you couldn’t be a passive viewer and still reap all the rewards of watching. I was engaged until the very end and then some, and now I can continue to ponder these mysteries as I rewatch episodes later on.
What this show has always been about – more so than the mythology, science, or faith – is the characters. And I’m just happy that they all became the heroes that we always wanted them to be and, in the end, got what they deserved. I’ve read a lot of crap from people complaining that they didn’t get the answers they wanted to every last mystery or that they didn’t see certain characters again (Walt? C’mon! He’s like 6’ tall and 18 now – there’s nothing they could do! Eko? He didn’t want to come back!). I suggest that these people relax. If they go through their lives expecting neat answers to everything…well, I’ll just say that they need to let it go…
I’m prepared, ready, willing, and able to discuss everything/anything about LOST. Let’s get a dialogue going here, because what is LOST if not a conversation starter. What questions do you have? What did you love/hate? Post your comments below.
In what is likely the last LOST easter
egg,did you notice the "donkey wheel" in the glass window?:
