Archive: January 2007

It pains me to admit that I will not meet my goal of reading four books in January.

I know that it’s normal for most New Year’s resolutions to go by the wayside early on, but I really wanted do well with this reading one. It’s something I enjoy and for my benefit, unlike something that’s only for my benefit, like exercise or car maintenance. If I can’t even stick with a goal that I like, what are the odds that I would persevere with something I don’t? They are not good. Not good at all.

Over the weekend, I knocked out #2 and 3 and I had the temptation to choose a nice, slim #4 that I could finish up easily in three days. Instead, thanks to sheer stubbornness, I grabbed the next one on the queue, without knowing that The Hundred Secret Senses has over 400 pages. Initially, I suffered a lapse of reality and thought, “Four hundred pages? That’s only … 150 pages per night! Let’s go!” Needless to say, it has sealed my fate to be unsuccessful for January, seeing as I’m only on measly page 72 right now and even I have to accept the fact that I am not able to read 344 pages in one evening.

I really do like the book and I have to keep reminding myself of the real point here. It’s about me making time for reading, actually enjoying it, and not feeling like I have homework. I can’t seem to squelch my inner overachiever, who is eager to earn any gold star that might be out there. Maybe some personal growth and letting go of the need for rewards is somewhere embedded in here, too.

Anyway, being slow in January is no excuse for the rest of the year, so to achieve an average of four books per month, here’s to five in February…

During my brief stay in a hotel completely populated by high school students, I overheard some interesting tidbits …

While in an elevator with one boy who might be Chinese and a classmate who appears to be Indian:
Boy 1: But what’s the point of living well? Karma or something?
Boy 2: Well, if I lived well in the last life, then I’m enjoying a good life now as a human.
Boy 1: But you don’t know if you’re screwing something up now. What if you find yourself as a mushroom in the next life?
Boy 2: That’s not really the point, though. It’s really just to live as well as you can while you can.
Boy 1: … But then you’re a mushroom.

[Ha. I love it when teenagers are unintentionally hilarious.]

—–

While walking through a hallway lined with lounging kids:
Girl: If it’s a girl you don’t know, you really shouldn’t play boob tag.

[What in the world…?]

—–

While walking through the SEPTA station:
Another Girl: Mr. JG, you’d make a good daddy!

[Let’s not even go there, kids.]

On Friday, JG and I found ourselves on the top of the stairs of the Philadelphia Museum of Art, the ones made famous by Rocky and his gray sweatsuit. No, we didn’t run all the way up the stairs; we accidentally drove across them. In a car.

It all started out very innocently with a trip to the museum. I had never been there, so JG was humoring me and two of his friends came along for the ride. We followed signs for the parking lot, winding around and around the building at what I thought was a curiously high altitude. “I feel like we’re driving on top of the museum,” I commented, and of course, the rest of the car just laughed at me. RA was worrying again, as always. Then, the scenery opened up to reveal the stairs falling down to the right and columns of the museum’s façade rising up on the left. We were on top of the stairs, staring down at the Benjamin Franklin Parkway. What in the world?

The friend in the driver’s seat paused as we reached the center of the patio and said jokingly, “Do you want to take a picture?” We yelled to get off the steps and we zoomed into a less visible side parking lot. As the car pulled into place, the ridiculousness of the whole thing settled in. We were on the steps! If Rocky had been there, we could have run him over. We might even be in people’s pictures of the museum. Crazy.

JG would later describe the episode as the highlight of his weekend. At least the trip to the museum (that I loved, by the way) was worth that much, I guess.

I’m taking the afternoon and tomorrow off! We’re going to Philly with friends! Yes! Oh, and meanwhile, JG and I are chaperoning a pack of kids.

I shouldn’t complain. The trip is almost free for us, not including the minor task of accompanying 45 high school students to participate in their Model United Nations fest. We’re all staying in the same hotel where the kids do their UN thing (compromise, treaties, resolution, etc.) so I’m told that this chaperoning gig is really more like checking off names on a list than babysitting. According to the faculty advisor, the kids are the “nerdy, well-behaved ones”, so hopefully, they’ll snap to attention if I ask them to do something. Being an authority figure for these students makes me uneasy. I’m not a teacher and, more importantly, over half of them are bound to be at least a head taller than I am. Much to my chagrin, this will be a situation where respectful students will call me Mrs. Married Last Name and I need to make a conscious effort not to wince every time that happens. I am just not used to that yet.

Between the art museum and the orchestra (yay!), the plan this weekend includes a lot of reading. As of right now, the reading resolution is completely unrealistic thanks to my current book that has me in a headlock. I can’t fail in the first month! It’s a matter of pride right now; I have to at least get through June. I’m going to finish my book and get at least halfway through the other one in my bag, darn it.

Regardless of students, married last names and sub-Arctic weather, I’m sure I’ll enjoy myself. Time off from work is always a good time!