White Christmas, Blue Christmas

It hasn't snowed in Vegas yet.  It snows every year.  At least once.  Hasn't happened yet.  I hope it snows soon.  On the other hand, I would be sad to see it snow on Christmas here, as I will be in Utah that day.  Las Vegans deserve a white Christmas, but not if I'm out of town.

This month has been pretty blue for me...I have this Christmas playlist on my Spotify, and I discovered songs like "I'll Be Home For Christmas" and "Blue Christmas" and "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas" were actually starting to depress me.  They make me think about Christmases past.  (Remember what happened when Ebeneezer Scrooge reflected on Christmases past?)  So, I deleted them from my playlist.  Now all I listen to is Michael Buble's "All I Want For Christmas Is You" and Frank Sinatra's "Let it Snow! Let it Snow! Let it Snow!".  Happy times.

Yesterday I helped a neighbor hand out homemade muffins and hot chocolate to the homeless.  We drove around downtown Las Vegas in his truck, and stopped when we found small groups of people who looked somewhat downtrodden.  I would hail them, offering them hot chocolate and muffins, while Matt lowered the tailgate and mixed the hot cho; most were grateful and accepted, a few politely refused.

Early on in our mission, I felt somewhat disgusted with myself.  Just the night before, I had visited the mall shopping for shoes.  Shoes that cost more than $100.  I didn't buy them, but after seeing these people, it made me wonder how I could justify spending so much money on something that, in the grand scheme of things....well, I don't know.  Do shoes matter?  They were running shoes, and the purpose would be to train for a marathon.  But, in the face of people who are living in tents and who wake up worried where their next meal is coming from, that one pair of shoes could buy them two weeks of food...or could it?

It's Christmastime, everyone, and you probably know this, but it's the season wherein people traditionally try to overcome their selfishness and give to others.  At least that is what I typically try to do every year.  This year I have failed miserably.  There are only 7 days until the big day, and all I have managed to do is hand out some muffins and hot cho on a Saturday, and torture a couple of neighbors with my rendition of "Hark! The Herald Angels Sing" as I delivered a Christmas treat to share with their families before they left for the holiday.  (It was torture because I actually sang the entire first verse solo while they stood awkwardly in the doorway wondering if I was actually going to sing the entire first verse solo.)

On a different note, I have been cleaning my house.  I am getting rid of things I haven't used in the past year.  It's difficult for me to let go of certain things.  Like Charles Dickens, I equate owning books with wealth.  And so, as I prepare to donate books I have finally admitted I will probably never read again--I have a library card, and anyway, if I really want to read them again, I can probably find them free online--I find myself feeling as though I am giving up some of my wealth.  Wealth of knowledge?  Perhaps, although some of these books I would not consider rich with knowledge and I certainly would not recommend them to anyone to read.  Take Sophia Lee's The Recess.  Not even worth summarizing here.  I own several other volumes that might serve better the shelves of a used bookstore, or a thrift store.  Farewell old friends.

So, I face my first week of holiday vacation with a resolve to cleanse my life of those things taking up space but not contributing to my overall progression.  Does that mean cleansing my life of free time and down time?  Dangit...I had better get to scheduling the next two weeks.

And that's my week before Christmas in a Nutshell,

Hop

Post Thanksgiving

Nothing to do,
Nowhere to be,
A simple little kind of free.
Nothing to do,
No one but me,
That’s all I need.
John Mayer, “Perfectly Lonely”

Is Thanksgiving supposed to be a religious holiday? Maybe it’s being around family that makes it feel like a religious holiday. The Spirit of Gratitude coupled with the Spirit of Elijah….

Traditionally, this would be a post dedicated to things I am grateful for. Somehow, my heart is not up to making a list this year. I guess because I have experienced so much failure over the past twelve months, and because I face so much uncertainty in the next twelve months…

So, last Saturday I drove to Utah to see my new nephews for the first time, and to participate in the baby blessings on Sunday morning. My two youngest sisters both gave birth in the last two months, and I’ve been so booked with my job and taking graduate classes that I haven’t made time to see them yet. (I know, that’s sad, since I’ve had two three-day weekends that I should have/could have made the trip, but I allowed myself to get behind in school…) But, my parents are in town from Moscow, Russia, so I figured I should probably drive the 400 miles, since they came more than 5,000 miles…

I forgot it was my birthday on Sunday (when you have had as many birthdays as I have, they all tend to run together….it seems like just last year I had a birthday….), so when my sisters started asking me what I wanted for my birthday, and where I wanted to eat for our dinner that night…I hadn’t put much thought into it. We ended up eating at a little burger joint I hadn’t been to since I was living in Provo as a college student. And Sunday brunch was at Mimi’s Cafe. (The corned beef hash is excellent.) Again aloof, I was taken by surprise when they delivered my birthday dessert. Maybe it was too early in the day for me to be expecting dessert, or maybe I’m getting so old that I’m forgetting how important I am. At the very least, I’m forgetting important days, like birthdays and anniversaries.

So, three days back in Vegas, and it was time to drive back up to Provo for Thanksgiving. All the driving has reminded me how much I love having my summers free to travel all over the country. It also made me realize if someone else were driving, I might get some quality reading or writing done. Or even better, I might get a good look at, or take a few pictures of, the landscape I speed by, too focused on the traffic to get a really good look at the mountains I have come to love and miss so much.

The drive also brought me back to this basic realization: I’m a loner. I love being alone to ponder life and take in the world around me…but I’m not so sure it’s good to be alone as much as I am. So, I’m seeking companionship, in the form of travel partners, and music listening partners, and dining partners. Problem is, I’m pretty picky. I’m also fairly prickly, I’ve heard. Wish me luck!

And that’s my last few weeks in a Nutshell,
Hop

Run, Baby, Run

Run baby run
don't ever look back
they'll tear us apart
if you give them the chance
don't sell your heart,
don't say we're not meant to be
run baby run,
forever will be
you and me...
--We The Kings, "Check Yes Juliet"

Yes, I want to run away with you.  Go to Montana.  Seattle.  Alaska.  Boston. Anywhere you wanna go, really, babe.  Let's just go, get out of here.

I mean, if I get to spend forever talking to you, singing to you, then yes, let's go.  I want to hold your hand as we walk across the street, the stream, whatever.

We can climb mountains, sleep under the stars, bask in the romance of each new sun.

Yes, I want to run away with you.  Fly from this life, and start our own life.  You and me, me and you.  Us.

I mean, if we get to kiss each other good night, then snuggle until we fall asleep, let's go.  I want to hold you as we look up at the moon, watch the sunrise, the sunset, whatever.

We can sail oceans, run the raging rapids, live off the land.

Together.

And that's my week in a Nutshell,,
Hop

For "The Girl"

   
I wish I 
could do better by 
you 
'cause it's what you deserve. 
You sacrifice 
so much of your life 
in order 
for this to work. 
--City and Colour, "The Girl"

Dear Girl,


Why do you take up so much of my time?  Why am I constantly thinking about you, and wanting to text you so I can wait (impatiently) for your response only to text you again (immediately) and wait again (impatiently) for your response?  


Sure, you have great taste in music (and men), but the fact that you like the music I like...is that reason enough to be thinking about you all the time?  I admit, I enjoy the time I spend with you.  I have yet to walk away from you feeling sad, neglected, unwanted, rejected, or like the past few hours we've shared have been boring or a complete waste of time.  If anything, I feel the opposite.


And yet, I must say (and in saying so, I am only stating the obvious), that this thing we have won't go anywhere...good.  Sure, it will seem good, even great, at the beginning, what with the romance and all, the little poems, the tender touches, the laughs.  But then what?  When life, or better yet, reality, comes crashing through, like a car driven by a drunk teenager crashes through the living room where we sit in the dark holding hands and watching that movie we wanted to see together, then what?


So, I sit thinking.  Trying to decide.  Do I want to walk away now, unscathed, or do I want the crash, the risk of serious injury?


I will think some more...

So, it's been two weeks since I last posted.  Life is keeping me busy with my full-time job and my six graduate credits, and my efforts not to go insane.

I had my National Guard drill last weekend. It was a fun experience. I looked forward to this training for a month--ever since my First Sergeant told me we were to be tasered and pepper sprayed.  These are two trainings I think every person should experience, though I wouldn't wish those experiences on anyone.  I mean, I stepped forward willingly, eager to set an example, but more importantly, eager to get the bejeezus shocked out of me.  Though the current only runs for 5 seconds, it's a miserable 5 seconds of 1200 volts of electricity pulsing through your body and completely disrupting your nervous system.

 

I wish I had the video of the pepper spray course.  That, I think, you might find more entertaining.  Two minutes of me running around with my eyes burning, trying to subdue "rioters", culminating in me drawing my pistol, telling the person to get down, and handcuffing them, after which I am rushed over to the decontamination area.  I think I used half a bottle of baby shampoo just to wash the pepper from my delicate eyes.  I had to be sure that when I went home to take a shower, the water wouldn't reactivate the pepper and start to burn again.

And, as you can tell from the letter at the beginning, I've had a lot on my mind.  Not really, a lot, just one thing on my mind a lot...

Soon, it will be the weekend before Halloween, and soon I will be in Utah to see my sisters and their new babies, and my mom, who will be in town from Moscow, Russia, where she now lives with my dad.

And that's my two weeks in a Nutshell,
Hop

Super, man

With every kiss
your beauty trumps my doubt.
And my head told my heart
"Let love grow."
But my heart, told my head,
"This time no, this time no."
--Mumford and Sons, "Winter Winds"

It's getting just a little chilly in the mornings. Which is good, I think. It allows me to wear my jacket when I ride to work. My leather riding jacket does two things.

First, it increases my cool factor. Since the 1950's, blue jeans and black leather jackets have been the epitome of cool. Showing up on a motorcycle certainly helps too.

Second, my riding jacket makes me feel invincible--which also, in a way, increases my cool factor. The internal protective shields, and the way the jacket protects me from the wind makes me feel like I am impervious to not only physical harm, but emotional and social harm as well. It's similar to the effect the yellow light of the sun has on Superman. And the marked difference in confidence (I imagine) is a total magnet for... good things.

It's been a busy week, as I believe all of the next 11 weeks will be. Working full-time, and taking two graduate literature courses in addition to the National Guard and my personal fitness program fills every waking hour, it seems. I rarely have the time, or make the time to go out and socialize with friends. However, last night I did go see a movie featuring Hugh Jackman and robot boxing. Very cheesy, yet inspiring, in a strange fighting sort of way. I left the theater wanting to take a swing at someone. (It's a good thing I wasn't wearing my riding jacket at the time.) I'm not sure the young woman who accompanied me felt the same way, but at least she got to look at Hugh Jackman for two hours. That may actually have been the best part of her night, but then, she hasn't seen me in my riding jacket yet. (Wink and a nod.)

And that's my invincible week in a Nutshell,
Hop

Come Home, Yes?

Life is like a shadow 

It never stays in one place 

I'm standing here anyway 

However long it takes to steal your heart 

--Augustana, "Steal Your Heart"

 So much to say about the past two weeks. Some, I think, needs to be presented in the form of poetry, so let me gloss over the boring stuff and get right to that of poetical import.

It was Homecoming for the high school students in my classes.  Thus, this week was Spirit week. I always try to dress up and show some semblance of pride in the school. This week, one of the days was "red carpet day", and so I decided to wear a bow tie. Not one of these wrap-around-your-neck-and-clip-on bow ties. I actually spent the time to learn how to tie a real bow tie. My students loved it. To the right you'll see a low-quality photo of the three high-quality people in the class who actually dressed up.

So, I found myself Friday night working the gate at the Homecoming game. The home team lost miserably in the second half.  But, I got to go on a nice motorcycle ride at half-time.

Saturday night, somehow I found myself a chaperon at the Homecoming dance. This time I dressed down wearing a regular necktie and slacks, not wanting to, you know, show anyone up, as they say.  Fortunately, all that practice tying bow ties came in handy, because twice I had students (whom I have never met before) ask me to help them with their bow ties.  I was impressed they actually went with real bow ties, but wondered at the fact that they believed someone at the dance would actually know how to tie it for them.  Risky. Tragically, only a handful of attendees were dressed better than I was. The girls were good about dressing up, but many of the boys showed up in jeans and t-shirts.  Jeans and t-shirts!  They were even allowed to wear their baseball caps.  I was in shock and awe that they were allowed to enter the dance.

And, I feel compelled to point out that a few of the chaperons were wearing jeans, including the principal.  When did "semi-formal" become synonymous with "casual Friday"?  More importantly, why was this not in the memo?

I received good news today.  The triathlon I was previously not going to compete in because the date conflicted with my first drill with my new unit--well, the date was changed to October 8.  So, perhaps in two weeks I will post a post-race picture of myself.

Alright, let's get to what you've all been waiting for.  The poems.

Love, M.D.

I'm ailing,

     is my heart failing?

  as I search for a remedy I am led to you

          Doctor, doctor what can I do?



Blast...Now the poetical magic's gone...

And that's my homecoming week in a Nutshell,
Hop

I can see that I can't see

Everything you do
Is super-duper cute
and I can't stand it.
--Never Shout Never, "Can't Stand It"


As you may or may not know, I had Lasik eye surgery just over three weeks ago. Now...this may seem like a grand occasion for celebration, but let me tell you what I lost three weeks ago.

First, I lost one basic source of protection from violence. I have never been punched in the face. Who would punch a guy with glasses? But now, I don't wear glasses. I'm scared. So, as a precaution, I purchased a pair of non-prescrip spectacles to wear at times when I am in potentially hostile environments--like my classroom.

Second, I lost the ability to see more clearly. Three weeks ago when I woke up in the morning, I could see. Sure it was a bit blurry at first, but still, I could get around. And then, when I put my contacts in, or my glasses on, my world became so much clearer. Now, when I wake up in the morning, what I see is as good as it gets. That's an analogy. I think.

Finally, my beautiful blue eyes.  My blue eyes used to be my best feature.  I mean, they were my one redeeming quality.  When everything else in my life was going to ruin, when I was fat, or sick, or ugly, I could at least look in the mirror and see my eyes and think, "I'm beautiful."  But, now, my eyes are constantly bloodshot, and bruised, and I may even have a permanent red scar on my right iris.  Though my eyes still function, it hurts to lose the most beautiful thing about me.  Imagine how J-Lo would feel if she lost her beautiful behind, or how Einstein would feel if they shaved his hair. Or picture, if you can, Julia Roberts without those luscious lips.  Yes, I can identify with these people, because they all have one feature that makes them truly beautiful, except, now I have lost it.  My eyes, my eyes!

Moving on.

My mother pinning me.

So, today I commissioned as a Second Lieutenant in the Army National Guard.  I will be assigned to a military police unit here in Henderson, Nevada.  Following are some photos from the ceremony.

The ceremony was...well, I want to say it was awesome, and flawless, and that a good time was had by all.  But, this morning I took an oath that I would not lie, cheat or steal...so I will say that the ceremony served its purpose, and we are all glad it's over, so we get down to the business of conducting business as usual.

Me and SGT Krizmanich, who rendered my first salute.

Anyway, I think my new assignment will be a lot of fun.  I hear that many of the soldiers in my unit are police officers in the civilian world as well, and that there are perks to working with so many police officers, such as dropping a name when I get pulled over, so as to be given a warning, instead of a ticket.

Well, I think it is now time for me to get back to the business of being a school teacher on the weekend, and maybe grade some essays or something.

And that's my visually impaired week in a Nutshell,
Hop

A Crushed Crush

Oh what I wouldn't do,
If I had you babe, I had you.
So lace your hands round the small of my back and I will kiss you like a [queen]
I will be your [light], I'll keep you warm at night. 
I will sing, I will sing
--A Fine Frenzy, "What I Wouldn't Do" (edited to fit the circumstances)

My Darling (MD),


So, it can't work, you say, and I reply, in the words of the Flight of the Conchords: you can't break my heart. It's liquid--it melted when I met you.

Yes, you melted my heart.  Something I didn't think would happen for a while yet. And it stunned me when you did.

I was taken, so quickly, by your smile.  Your smile, that tickles my heart and makes it smile.  Makes it flutter and fly.  Makes it beat faster, faster.

I couldn't help falling for you, really, and certainly not after seeing you in those glasses.  Just that you were willing to buy them so we could have our nerdy glasses day--wow.

And that sunrise morning, how you shivered, and I used that as an excuse to put my arms around you.  Cheesy?  Yes.  Worth it?  Definitely.

Oh, how it feels to hold your hand.  Two words: so good.  I write this here, because I don't want to forget, that long Harley ride, and me holding your hand, our fingers intertwined as we sped through the night...and sitting across from you over dinner, and watching your eyes as we talked.

MD, you see, the mountain of obstacles in our path, you think would keep this from working, that it would hinder us from happiness.  That mountain is not the obstacle, that mountain is the path.  And just like climbing a mountain, there are two real rewards: the view from the top, and the journey you take to see it.

That' such a romantic idea, eh. It's true, you bring all this romance out of me. I'm a sucker for you; what I wouldn't do for you.  Is that the best part of having a crush on you?  Who knows.  Probably.

Anyway, just wanted to let you know how I feel when I'm with you.  That all's right in the world.  That I can do anything.  That you're the brightest star, the beautifulest flower, the wonderfulest person.  (And so many other cliches I don't need to mention).

And that's my twitterpated week in a Nutshell,
Hop

To Slip and Slide, or Just to Ride

We once walked out on the beach
and once I almost touched your hand
oh how I dreamed to finally say such things
then only to pretend...
Even if your heart would listen,
I doubt I could explain.
--Jimmy Eat World "If You Don't, Don't"

If you want to see something I one day dream of doing, click the link here.

It's a slippery slope I'm treading on. I must keep my wits about me and maintain my focus, for at any minute I may end up falling in, and I don't think any of us wants to see that. Do we?

And yet, there is so much to see, and I AM attracted by the beauty of my surroundings...

Alright, for all you who don't read into the symbolism here, we're talking about Love. And, this week, I've felt my heart being pulled in one direction while my feet so clearly want to go somewhere else. This begs the question, what is so bad about falling in love?

Most of me wants to walk the ridgeline of reality, and only once in a while, peer down on love, enjoy the view for a bit, then continue on my journey. But there is part of me that wants to get closer, ya know, for a better view. As if getting closer and seeing more clearly will in someway help me understand love. At the risk of falling in? Remember, it's a slippery slope. Like the glacial slopes my friend crosses in his video. Were I to slip and fall, there would be no saving me. I would slide, at an exhilarating pace, down. With nothing to stop me. So, out of necessity, I keep my distance from the edge.

This is all so abstract. Let's get concrete.

I had to go back to work this week. It was full of meetings with the principal and other teachers, reviewing school policies, sort of setting up my classroom, and even a little interaction with some of the students (cross country runners mostly). School starts tomorrow, and we all are full of a mixture of emotions consisting mostly of excitement and dread.

Also this week, I went horseback riding. The highlight of the trip, for me, was her. But, other highlights of the trip included:

• both of us listening to the same music on our 40-minute Harley ride to get there (and another 40 minutes to get home)
  
• the kid who was taking care of the horses asking if we wanted to take a picture of the one who suffered from "Horsey Down's Syndrome"--distant stare in its eyes and tongue sticking out
  
• my heart beating faster
• the sunset
• the tour guide getting lost and having to use the GPS on her phone to find our way back
• Cafe Rio for dinner (the food was good, the company was exceptional)
  

Sadly, those are all the images you get from the trip.

Also this week, trying with all my might to delay the end of summer and the onset of my real job and the stress of actually having to work everyday, I spent all day Saturday doing fun stuff. I lifted weights, rode my mountain bike, played tennis and frisbee, and fixed my sprinklers (or so I thought).

And that's my last week of summer in a Nutshell,
Hop

Ye Olde Nutshell

You're so delicious,
You're so
Soft
Sweet on the tip of my tongue
You taste like
Sunlight
And strawberry bubblegum
You bite my lip
You spike my blood
You make my heart
beat
faster.
--Matt Nathanson, "Faster"

And so it begins...again.

This past week was full of adventure. I made a new friend and we shared a lot of firsts together. Hopefully we'll share many more firsts in the coming...hours, days, weeks...Listen to me, I'm so optimistic. Where does it come from, this optimism, this confidence?

It must be from the inordinate amount of fast food I've been eating lately. It can't be from working out, because I've only hit the gym twice this month, and I've only run three times. And I finally got on my road bike for the first time this week. So, no, it must be my diet, because it's definitely not my exercise.

I watched the sunrise this week. There's something incredibly therapeutic, cathartic, symbolic, and romantic about arising early in the morning, finding yourself in the dark, and watching the light creep over the mountains to the east, illuminating the world around you. And honestly, I can't think of anyone better than the person who was with me. She had all the right answers to all my questions/comments. So, thank you mystery woman from the sunrise memory, and may the monkeys from the movie ever be out of your dreams.

Some of you may know I was in Utah last weekend. Well, I have surpassed the 14,000 mile mark on my Harley-Davidson. That may not seem like a lot of miles to some of you, but consider that earlier this week my buddy, Green, rode his 1990 Katana over to my house, and it has fewer than 13,000 miles on it. So, in 21 years, he has put almost as many miles on his bike as I have in the past 3.5 years.

Some might consider the big news of this week to be the fact that I paid someone to sedate me, lay me on a table, apply great pressure to my eyeballs, cut my corneas open with a laser and send me home with clear plastic shields over my eyes, and steroids to drop in my eyes every few hours. (Fun factoid: the steroids I drop in my eyes leak through to my sinuses, and down into my oral cavity. Translation: I can TASTE the steroids a few minutes after I put them in my eyes.)

Now, I have two favorite memories to share with you from this week. One of them involves my army buddies. We went out to dinner together on Thursday and over the course of our conversation, Green brought up this young woman from his apartment complex who was "Jewish" and a "Jesus Freak". The conversation stalled for a second as we all considered this. Jews don't typically identify with Christians, at least not the "Jesus Freaks". While he was talking about her, she sent him a text message, making some statement about religion. Since I have the reputation among my peers of being the strait-and-narrow-let's-talk-religion-and-stay-on-the-right-path guy I told Green to give me her number. I texted her, which resulted in her calling me, which resulted in me inviting her to church on Sunday.

The second memory, forgive me, is a bit juvenile--I'm still young at heart. We're driving in the car, she and I, and I look over and ask sweetly, "Can I hold your hand?" Her reply: "That depends...can you multi-task?" Ah, the wit. The flirtation. It makes my heart beat faster.

And that's my week in a Nutshell,
Hop