For my addictions class, we have been asked to give up a substance or behavior for six weeks.  It should be something that we interact with on a daily basis; something we really don’t want to give up.  It doesn’t have to be something that is necessarily bad for us, it can be, but we need to be able to feel its effects when we remove it from our lives.

I chose Facebook.

Last week we wrote our “Dear John” letters to our addictions.  There were some criteria for what to include in the letter: how the addictive substance/behavior is loved and considered a “friend;” how it is sensual (appeals to the senses); how it provides “healing” or is a “balm” to our emotional wounds; how it controls and promotes feelings of helplessness and entrapment; and how it is hates – what is has “cost” us.

A couple of friends asked to read my letter, so I decided to post it here.  Initially, I was going to blog during this 6 week Facebook hiatus.  However, after having a co-worker/classmate intervention this morning, it was determined that blogging would replace one addiction for another.  I would still be getting the “high” from blogging that I had from Facebook; feedback and interaction from friends/people online.

So…no blogging.

I’m going to wrote the posts, but refrain from posting them until the project is over.  We are required to keep a journal during this six weeks, so this will fulfill that.  When the hiatus is over, I will post some of my journal entries on here.

And with that explanation out of the way, here’s the letter:

January 22, 2014

Dear Facebook,

This is a hard letter for me to write, especially to you. However, I know that this is the best decision for me right now.  I have to leave you.

Please know and understand, we have had some wonderful times together. You have provided me with an outlet, in several ways. I have been able to visit old friends through you – people I have not been in touch with personally in many years. It has been wonderful to reconnect with many of these friends and reestablish a friendship.  You have also allowed me to view people from a distance. To remain in their life on the peripheral, watching their children grow through pictures and finding out the news in their lives.  Many days have been made better by a picture or status message posted by a friend.  I have smiled more, laughed, and shared in their joys.

As importantly, you have provided me a way to express my emotions in a safe environment. Whether it is good news or bad, the feedback from friends through you has lifted my spirits and given me a boost of confidence.  You have helped raise my self-esteem in many ways.  I know that I can go to you and write a status or post a picture and I will receive almost immediate feedback from friends, people who would not otherwise be in my life or provide me with their good thoughts and wishes.

You have provided me all of this, and for that I am grateful.

However, you have also fed my addictions. My need to compare my lives to others has been satiated through you. Mostly, I have used you in a way that is detrimental to my emotional health. Instead of realizing that there will always be those “better off” than me and those who are not doing as well, I have chosen to focus on the people who currently have the life I have been striving for. I see my peers, who are my age, married with children and this makes me painfully aware that I am “behind” in the timeline I once set for myself.

I know that many people only choose to publicize the best parts of their lives, and they really do have bad days/situations, but I can’t help but focus on those life goals I have yet to reach. I then struggle with wanting to celebrate their joys, but at the same time feeling sad for myself in the process. It’s not a healthy way for me to live.

You have also fed my ego. When I’m looking for a “cheap fix,” something to make me feel better about myself, I’ll post something funny or cute and wait for others to tell me they like it – either through “likes” or comments.  This has both positive and negative effects.  I described the positive earlier; I think the negative is that I have learned to measure my happiness though others.  I have become dependent on those likes and comments to fulfill some emotional deficits within me.

You are also preventing me from accomplishing goals in my life.  When I get bored, I turn to you instead of something more constructive, such as my personal writing, reading for pleasure, or school-related research or homework.  I often refer to you as a “time suck.” It’s so easy to get lost reading the pages of others, looking through pictures, taking quizzes that others have posted, or reading articles that they’ve shared.  Some of this has benefited me, but most of the time it has been an unnecessary use of my time.  There are a lot of personal goals I need to work on, but I’ve used us as a crutch to put them off.

You have taken some things from me, one being sleep.  I spent a lot of time before bed, reading up on others’ pages instead of sleeping.  I need that sleep. When I’m with my friends, I find myself turning to you – checking to see if someone has posted something interesting.  It keeps me from living in the moment and truly enjoying the time I have with others.  Even if it’s a quick check-in, or taking a picture simply for the purposes of posting on my page, it all amounts to the same thing.  I am shifting my focus from the moment.

When I see “bad” photos of myself posted by others, where I feel that I don’t look my best, it can cause me a lot of anxiety.  I fear the critical eyes of others when they view it.  So even though you build my self-esteem, you also destroy it.

I know now that you have become an addiction for me.  I want to feel free from you; free to live my life without wondering what is going on in your world, scared that I am missing out on something important.  I want to be comfortable without you; able to be in the moment and enjoy my time with friends.  I want to stop using you as a crutch; to start focusing on goals that mean more to me and that will help me to achieve happiness and success.

It is for all of these reasons that I am leaving you.  I hope you can understand.

Love,

Kristina

*********************************************

The title of this post refers to the social network featured on 30 Rock, called YouFace:

So I realize I kinda left you all hanging last October.  I mean, I started telling you about my job during the re-election and then didn’t bother to tell you the outcome!  And I’m sure you’ve been checking back ever since, wondering, whoever won that little Presidential election??

Fine, it’s old news. I’m only four months too late to share my victory dance with you.  Which was a half-ass dance at best, considering we won the election in a state that is so bad at counting, the rest of the country just decided to call the whole damn thing without us.  Seriously,  pretty embarrassing.  I spent most of the night celebrating with my team in a county that started out blue, turned red, then….well, who knows, I’m not actually sure they even bothered to finish counting.  It was actually hard to get real closure on my win; days and days passed and we were the only ones standing in the corner, waiting to be colored.

Why are we always the purple ones?

However, not the point of this post.  I wanted to go back and let you know what I learned during my time on the campaign trail (I’ve been wanting to use that term for awhile; it *might* be the only reason I decided to write this post).  So here it is, in no particular order of importance – Shit I Learned During the Election.

1.  Elections bring out the best and worst in humanity

No surprises there, folks, but let me put it into perspective.  Florida is full of bigots and racists, let me make that perfectly clear.  Hardly a day went by that someone didn’t reveal their ignorant self by declaring that they wouldn’t vote for a black man who wasn’t even “from here.”  Who put bumper stickers on their cars asking that we not “re-nig” in 2012.  Or who tried to hide their racism by declaring that they “didn’t like Obama’s white side either!”

On the other hand, there were tons of folks who gave up their time to campaign for the candidate they believed in (Barack or Mitt) and were respectful of each other’s opinions.  I had lots of great conversations with conservatives that proved one thing – we all want the same thing.  Really.  We’re all in it for the same values but allow ourselves to slap labels on parties and use a couple of social issues to define us and divide us.  I’m not saying there aren’t legitimate differences between Republicans and Democrats, there certainly are these days, I’m simply pointing out that we focus on them about 1,000 times more than our similarities.

2.  People be lovin’ them some signs.

Seriously, there is nothing DeLand residents wanted more than a sign in their yard.  Most trounced in declaring they were sick of seeing so many Romney signs and needed to balance out the ratio.  Many came in after their signs had been stolen (HUGE problem in our area), looking to replace them over and over, just to piss off their neighbors.  Others wanted us to go on the street corners, much like the local Jesus lovers downtown, waving our signs across from the Romney supporters.

Here’s the thing about signs – the Obama campaign hated them.  Many of my fellow campaigners would have been happy never to see another damn sign in their lives.  Their motto?  “Signs don’t win elections, votes do.”  To them, having a sign in your yard was pointless.  Even more pointless?  Standing on the corner waving your sign.  And I have to admit, it makes sense.  When’s the last time you decided your vote because of a yard sign, or because people were waving signs?  I mean, that might do it for a couple of no-names in the local election;  given the choice, I’d probably vote for the guy I’d heard of, whether or not I knew that much about him.  But in a national presidential campaign…well, it’s not really gonna sway anyone.  What it DOES do, however, is bring up the morale of the community, and that is something we certainly needed.

One of my co-workers shared with me some research about campaign signs.  He said that it’s better when your side has LESS signs that the other guy, because it causes your constituents to go into defense mode.  They begin to panic and worry that their candidate is going to lose.  They decide they need to step-up their game, donate some funds.  Their worry translates into support for the candidate and they work to gain more votes for them.

I agree, that does make sense.  However, here’s the flip side of that coin.  When you’re in a state that is so heavily divided and your city has nothing but the competition’s signs up, you feel defeated.  You start thinking there’s no point in even trying, because obviously everyone is on the other guy’s side.  Why even bother to vote?  Yes, a little extreme, but it was the sentiment felt by many I spoke to.  You start to doubt the 50/50 divide of the citizens and start thinking it’s more like 90/10.

Either way, people wanted those signs and would stop at nothing to get them.

3.  You can’t send white people out into just any neighborhood

Like most cities, there are segregated areas going back decades; areas of affluence, where many whites live, and poorer, run down areas, where mainly those of color live.  Now, there are certainly poor white areas,  I’ll get to the trailer parks in a moment, but let’s focus on the minority neighborhoods first.

One of my co-workers was a white guy, quite tall, black hair and beard.  Kinda intimidating if you saw him walking around alone at night.  And actually, I should point out that the beard was a good thing; we all agreed that he looked like a child pedophile without it.  He came back from canvassing one day, and said the following to our boss (who coincidentally also had a beard):

BLACK BEARD:  So you don’t like me anymore?  Trying to get me killed now, eh?

RED BEARD:  What are you talking about?

BLACK BEARD:  The neighborhood you sent me out to – I got kicked out for being white!

RED BEARD: What?? HAHAHAHA!.

My boss, who is not from DeLand (or Florida), created all the canvassing maps, not knowing the breakdown in population for each area.  I had already warned him about doing this, told him to have me look them over first.  Because I already knew what he didn’t – you just can’t send out certain people in certain areas.  He, of course, laughed off my advice, declaring “I do what I want!”  A popular phrase of his during the campaign, to be sure.  So he sends our lovely co-worker out into a historically black neighborhood in DeLand, where he is stopped by everyone he sees.

ELDERLY WOMAN:  Baby, what are you doing here?

BLACK BEARD:  I’m here with the Obama campaign, giving out-

ELDERLY WOMAN:  No, you’re not.  You’re going to turn around and head right back to Woodland Boulevard where you came from.  Hurry now, before someone else tells you to.

Black Beard thought this strange advice, perhaps the woman had dementia, and continued down the road, where he saw a group of “youths” outside.

YOUTHS:  What do you need, man?

BLACK BEARD:  I’m here with the Obama campaign,

YOUTHS:  Obama!  Alright, man.

BLACK BEARD:  Yes, OBAMA.  And I’m giving out information on-

YOUTHS:  No, you’re not.  You need to get up on out of here, before someone else tells you to.

Seeing that this was the consensus among the young and old, and that he felt certain he would have been shot had he NOT been with the Obama campaign, Black Beard returned to the office.

So here’s the thing.  People get uncomfortable when they see outsiders in their neighborhood.  Some outsiders are easy to spot, they are white when everyone else is black, and some harder – they wear flip flops when everyone else has on dock shoes.  At any rate, people are protective of their neighborhoods, especially when they feel like the outsider is there to impact them in a negative way.  I’m sure your’e familiar with the gentrification that has happened in cities like DC, where all of the poor neighborhoods (filled mostly with people of color) have been taken over by middle and upper class folks (mostly white).  So there’s a little sensitivity when an outsider comes in.

The point it – you can’t send white people to any old neighborhood you want, at least not without some back-up (like me!  the “everyamerican” (copyright)).

The same goes for sending out minorities into the poorer white sections of town.  There were several trailer parks where I feared for my safety, and I’m half-white!  Luckily I had my all-white friend with me (“please ignore my little asian friend, she’s harmless”).

4.  There are a ton of democrats on the “down-low”

Going back to the signs for a moment, I told you that there were an over-abundant amount of Romney signs in my city.  The ratio of Romney to Obama signs just didn’t match the make-up of the residents; there were plenty of democrats in the area, our maps were filled with them.   So where were the signs of support?

Hidden.

It was pretty funny.  I’d go up to a house that has democrats living in it and knock on the door.

ME:  Hello!  I’m with OFA and wanted to know if you’ll be supporting our President in the upcoming campaign.

DL DEM (looks outside, scans from left to right)  In a whisper: Umm.  Yeah, yeah.

ME (turns around and looks behind us, trying to discover what they are looking at): Uh, is everything alright?

DL DEM:  No no, it’s cool.  Just don’t want to be too loud about it around here.  My neighbors…

ME:  Your neighbors?

DL DEM:  My neighbors…they aren’t too FRIENDLY to people they know are democrats.   If you know what I mean.

ME:  Oh, really?

DL DEM:  Oh yeah.  They steal signs.  They stop talking to you.  It’s best…it’s best if I just keep quiet.

ME: eh….

DL DEM:  How’s it been for you?  Everyone treating you well?

ME:  I mean, yeah, you know.  Good and bad experiences.

DL DEM:  Yeah, yeah, I know.  I’m proud of you for getting out there.  Good for you.  Good. For.  You.

ME:  Well….thanks for your support.  Have a good day.

DL DEM:  You too.  Stay safe, young woman.

Fine, I added the “young woman” part, but you get me.  So yes, there are democrats in DeLand…they’re just fearful for their safety.  LOL.  Sorta funny, but mostly sad.

They vote democrat, they cheer us on for the work we’re doing, but they’re not going to parade around the neighborhood with signs.  And they’re certainly not going to put one in their yard.

5.  It’s all or nothing in the campaign world

Working on a campaign is hard work.  Extreme hours, no days off, bad pay, constantly revamping your plans to reflect the results from the latest polls.

I kinda loved it.

Don’t get me wrong, I bitched.  A lot.  But it was exhilarating working on such a large-scale issue like the election.  It was all encompassing and took all of my focus.  I lived, breathed, and slept Obama.  No time for phone calls or happy hour with friends.  No time for TV (that wasn’t the news) or shopping of any sort.  Actually, I drank less during the campaign than I had in years.  A solution for alcoholics?  Probably not 🙂

The life of a staffer fits my personality; I work best when I’m up against a timeline and have a dozen things to do.  It’s only then that I effectively prioritize and put out my best work.  When I have little to do?  I’ll sit on my ass and surf the internet and end up “pinning” dozens of quotes from “The New Girl” and then jump on Hulu to start a new series.   Yup, that happens a lot when I’ve not got much to do.

Also, have a project with an end date appeals to me.  That’s why I liked school, in general.  It’s broken up into years and semesters, papers and projects.  You accomplish something and you move on.  I love moving in.  It’s probably why I’ve literally MOVED so many times in my life and prefer working in an academic setting where there is a beginning and end of the year.  It makes me feel like I’ve accomplished something.  Workplaces where you repeat the same tasks day after day, year after year…sounds like death.  Sounds like “Groundhog’s Day.”

Not for me.

Hmm, this might be the reason I’ve not settled down with anyone.

(Ha, I wish)

*********************************************************************

There are SO MANY good political quotes from 30 Rock, it was actually really hard to decide on one.  I recommend you watch the “Unwindulax” episode from this last season, where they explore the Obama-Romney campaign and point out Florida as the deciding factor (and Jenna in particular).  In it, Jack attends a fundraiser for his Republican Super PAC, “Americans for an American America.”  He brings Liz to act as his chum (double meaning!) and incite the Republicans to donate more money to Romney.

JACK:  If you’re coming, it won’t be as Liz lemon HuffPo super-user and gun control lunatic. You’ll come as Liz Lemon, my chum.

And after Liz loses her mind with the conservatives, Jack pleads with the crowd.

JACK:  Gentlemen and token silent lady, we have to spend all of our wonderful money and help my hair mentor, Mitt Romney, become the 11th legitimate President of the United States.

Later on, Jack (and Tracy at the same time, in a different location), point out who’s really determining the election in the US.

It all comes down to Florida, which they dub “The Penis of America.”

It’s a fantastic episode, one of my favorites.

And because I love it when 30 Rock mentions Florida, which is a lot, here’s a bonus pic!

I went from 0 to 100mph in the last month. What started out as volunteering, due to a large amount of “spare time” on my part, has evolved into a full time job (or three). I’m working on the president’s re-election campaign and we have, oh, 17 days to go!

I’ve spent a lot of time canvassing this week, which involves going door-to-door in the community and handing out information on all the different ways you can vote (absentee, in-person absentee, early voting, and election day). By and large, I’ve met friendly and gracious folks, from both sides of the isle. However, there’s always gotta be one rotten banana in the bunch. This one just happened to be the type that spreads Panama disease and kills the rest of the bananas.

My co-worker and I knocked on the door and a man appeared; the caretaker of the owner. We immediately breathed in a HORRENDOUS stench, which we quickly determined to be a fatal mixture of kitty urine + kitty poo + kitty litter. It was unbearable. We then asked for the owner and were pointed to another man in the room, confined to an electric wheelchair. We explained who we were and why we were there, and were met by the following rant:

Angry Old White Man: You’re wasting your time! I don’t want anything to do with that CLOWN! He needs to go back to KENYA where he belongs! (some angry mumbling I don’t understand) He needs to get out of MY COUNTRY!

Sensing he wasn’t a “fan” of the President, we thanked him for his time and went on our merry way. Now, you’re going to meet negative people on the road, that’s the nature of the work, and you just have to chalk up their behavior to ignorance and get on with your day. Which is what I did initially. We had a laugh about it and finished our route.

But it kept bugging me. What he said, I couldn’t get it out of my mind.

It wasn’t until later that night, when I was at my brother’s new place trying out paint samples on the wall at 11pm, that I was able to take a moment to understand why I was irritated.

I was offended. Personally. (is that redundant?)

And I know it’s stupid to let people upset you, especially the ignorant ones who are probably suffering from kitty urine poisoning. But I can’t help it. What he said to the President, it could have been said to me.

When he said that the President should return to Kenya, where he WASN’T born and has spent very little time visiting, I thought of myself. Like Obama, I am biracial and have a parent who was not born in the USA. I wasn’t born in Thailand and he wasn’t born in Kenya. Obama has barely visited the place; I’ve never set foot on Thai soil. He doesn’t belong in Kenya and I don’t belong in Thailand.

We belong in America because we are Americans. This is our home.

When your dominant genes are from your minority parent it is often assumed that you’re only that minority; Caucasian genes just don’t stand a chance, most times. It is at this point that people assume you weren’t born here, that you aren’t an American, and that you might not be a citizen. Yes, a stretch for some, but it’s definitely a stereotype felt by many. Even when evidence is brought to light – born and raised by a White family (at least I had my mom, Barack was raised purely White) – a portion of society still doesn’t accept you as being whole. As being a whole American.

Which comes back full-circle to the Angry Old White Man’s last statement –

He needs to get out of MY COUNTRY!

I mean, it really is laughable. A White man claiming America as his. Do we really not teach History in the schools these days? This is only OUR COUNTRY because we forced the Native Americans off the land; it was not OUR COUNTRY to begin with. It’s a ridiculous notion that is held by many. Go back far enough and stake your claim and you can deem future generations of immigrants as being “less than.” Less than those who massacred a group of people so they could take over their land? I’ll take it!

So I felt a strong reaction because, again, it could have been me he was talking about; I identified with his ignorant words. And on some level, I felt very protective of our President; as though I needed to defend him as I would myself. But I didn’t say a word. Mostly because I was working, and I’m not just representing myself I’m the face of an organization. Also because I felt he was legitimately crazy in a way, and it’s stupid to try and reason with the insane. And a tiny bit because I was a coward and didn’t want to start anything.

Because I’m about a thousand times wiser and kinder than that jag-hole.

And now that I’ve gone through the gambit of emotions – anger, sadness, depression and rage – I’m glad I wrote about it. Helps me to cope with this nagging disapointment I feel in humanity. And I will continue to stand by our President, and other white biracial Americans, whose American-ness is often questioned and whose White-ness is often ignored.

Earlier this summer, both of my brothers decided to buy homes.   We live in the Orlando area, where housing is relatively cheap, and in this economy we assumed it would be a buyer’s market.

We were wrong.

I guess it’s a good thing, a sign that the economy is on the upswing, but houses are literally flying off the shelves around here.  With almost every house we’ve liked, it has gone off the market within a week.  Some are gone within 48 hours of being listed.

In my best Seinfeld impression, “What is the deal with real estate around here?!”

My oldest brother, who has a bigger budget, decided to purchase a house that is building built as we speak.  None of the houses he looked at met his needs – open floor plan, recently renovated (no popcorn ceilings!), good location – so it made more sense to build and make his own decisions on layout and style.

My other brother, with a more modest budget, is still looking for a place.  We’ve gone to see houses every weekend for the last month – probably 30 so far.  There has been a wide-range in condition and price; we’ve seen places that should probably be condemned for their structural damage and we’ve seen estates that include a basketball court and tiki-bar with a beautiful lanai.  He has even put in a couple of bids, although none of them have worked out so far.  One home that he was really interested in, from the online profile, had already been sold by the time he made it over (about two days after listing).  In fact, when he and the realtor walked in to tour the place a woman came up and told them the house had already been bought – by her.  Apparently she had made a cash offer the previous day…and she was steaking the place out to make sure no one else tried to take it?

There are no rules in Orlando real estate, my friends.

And it’s not limited to Florida.  I have some friends in DC who are having a difficult time finding a bigger place in their current neighborhood of Capitol Hill.  Extremely popular for its location and sense of community, The Hill never has houses listed for very long.

Prices are rising, too.  Whereas a couple of years ago you could offer 20K less than listing, now you are seeing houses go listing price and above.  The demand for homes has definitely jumped and I’m surprised I haven’t heard more about this on the news.

Could this be a sign that our Road to Recovery is working?  Let’s hope so!

******************************************************************************************

In Season Four, Liz’s apartment building is “going condo” and she is forced to buy or move.  She decides to not only purchase her place, but the place above her – where a gay hipster cop currently lives.  Liz learns from Jack and Jenna that one must do whatever necessary to secure their real estate happiness.

I know this sounds ugly, but with Manhattan real estate there are no rules; it’s like check-in at an Italian airport.  – Jack

And later in the episode –

There are no rules in Manhattan real estate; it’s like check-in at an Italian sex party. – Jenna

In case you couldn’t tell from my blog, I’m a big fan of 30 Rock.

Actually, the biggest fan.

I love 30 Rock so much I named my blog and post titles after quotes from the show.

I love it so much I have all the seasons on DVD  and watch them every night.

(Tangent:  I actually tried watching other shows/movies at night, but none of them could keep my attention. I didn’t want a drama, I definitely needed something light and comedic, and it turns out there are not a lot of shows I like every epsisode of. Like, not a single one. I did How I Met Your Mother one night, but it bored me. And don’t get me wrong, I like the show a lot, but I just couldn’t take watching them more than once. This doesn’t happen with 30 Rock.)

I love it so much I quote it to people whenever I feel it’s applicable in a situation.

(Which it turns out is all the time. It’s like Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon, except only one degree, since I can relate anything to the show.)

I love it so much that I went into a deep depression when they stopped making the daily calendar.  Honestly, it was the only reason I showed up to work many days.  A quote each day!  It didn’t get much better than that.

I love it so much –

I want to take it behind a middle school and get it pregnant. – Tracey

You might find that last one extreme, and highly inappropriate, but then you’re obviously not a fan!

As I was saying, I own all the seasons and watch them every single night. No people, I’m serious. I can’t sleep without the TV on and, as we all know, there is nothing good after midnight (especially when you don’t have cable). So I put in one disc each night, press PLAY ALL, and proceed to watch each episode at least once before I go to sleep. And then? Then I start it over again; it plays continuously through the night. As in, I wake up in the middle of the night and repeat it. Multiple times. So not only have I seen every episode, but I’ve seen them dozens and dozens of times! I watch it in my sleep!

I’ve watched them so much, I can pick out discrepancies in the storyline.  For example:  In the Valentine’s Day episode in Season One, Pete states that his wife’s birthday is February 14.  Then in Seasons Four’s “Anna Howard Shaw Day” Pete claims that he can’t pick Liz up from oral surgery because every year they rent a big suite in Niagra and his wife takes the kids there while he gets wasted in their garage.

It’s what keeps the magic alive. – Pete

Granted, he didn’t say this Niagra vacation happened specifically on Valentine’s Day each year, but it still seems odd that she’d not be there on her birthday.  It’s implied on the episode that this vacation occurs every February 14.

Yes, I know, I’m crazy.  But I’m using my crazy for good!  Unlike Floyd…

You used Ghostbusters for evil! – Liz

See?  Everything can be tied back to the show.

So you can imagine my extreme sadness when it was announced that this upcoming season will be the last. Not only that, but it will be a shortened season; the horror, the horror!

But I understand. All good things must come to an end. You shouldn’t run a quality show into the ground *cough* The Office and Grey’s Anatomy *cough* just because it has the ratings and you want to continue to profit from it. So I understand and agree; it’s time.

However, this leaves me with a very limited window in which to fulfill an item on my bucket list – to visit the set of 30 Rock and serve as an extra in an episode!

This is THE DREAM, people!  I can think of nothing else I want more, and I’m including world peace.

If I could push a button and five people in the world would die but I’d get free cable for life, I’d do it. – Liz

They don’t currently have a contest for the biggest fan. Or at least, not a public one (as I’ve created my own private one, right here!). So you see, it’s all up to me to make this happen. Well, me and a bunch of you. That’s right, we’re taking it to the streets!

And by streets I mean the interwebs.

My goal is to have this post reach 30 Rock . Specifically, the writers and producers. More specifically, Ms. Tina Fey.  You can’t love 30 Rock without her; she created this magic and is therefore my heroine.

And by heroine, I mean lady hero. I don’t want to inject you and listen to jazz. – Liz

I had the opportunity to tell Tina about my “biggest fan” status, and I failed.

After writing “Bossypants,” Tina Fey did a shortened PR tour; there were only two stops! One was in NYC and the other in DC, where I happened to live at the time.  Not only did I get a ticket to the event, but I showed up early enough to sit in the second row. She was literally a foot away from me when walking to the stage! And when I say literally, I don’t mean figuratively, I mean literally.  She gave an interview and then took questions from the audience – this was my shot!  I got in line and decided on a question. Having read the book before the event, I could have asked a very informed question about it. I knew what I wanted to ask her – I wanted to find out why she wrote so little about Mean Girls. It was her first screenplay and she only mentioned it once in the book, for a couple of sentences. I found that odd. I thought maybe she didn’t mention it more because of Lindsay Lohan. And I don’t mean that in a negative way; it’s just that she was the star of the movie and things have been rocky for her lately (does four years count as lately?).  Perhaps Tina decided not to touch it at all.  Otherwise, I don’t see why she wouldn’t have given it another paragraph or two – how she came up with the material, what it was like to see it all come together on the big screen.  Something along those lines. But I digress.

Anyhoo, I decided not to broach the subject, in case LL (Lindsay Lohan, not Liz Lemon – didn’t realize they had the same initials ’til I wrote that!) was a sensitive subject. Instead, I told her what a big fan I was of the show (should have said the biggest!) and asked her to give us a spoiler or two.

I had my second chance to profess my obsession with the show when I got in line for the book signing.  I began tp prep myself as to what I should say.

Tell her your favorite lines from the show!  Ask her to pronounce your name like Oprah!  Give her a hug!

My turn came.  I walked up to her and said the following.

Thank you….thank you. Thank you. Thank you…..Thank you! – Me, the dipshit.

Seriously, I just kept repeating “thank you” to her. As in, thank you for signing my book. Thank you for being here. Thank you for creating the show. Thank you for making me and the rest of America laugh. Thank you.

But I didn’t say the other stuff. You know, the stuff that would have made a little more sense. I just kept repeating that stupid phrase over and over.  It was almost as bad as when Kenneth met Seinfeld.

Almost.

I’m sure that given more time, I would have gone “Liz meets Oprah” on her –

I’m trying to adopt a baby but my job is making it impossible because my work-self is suffocating my life-me. I’m Liz Lemon and I lost my virginity at 25. I saw the show about ‘Following Fear’ and it inspired me to wear shorts to work. It didn’t go great. Do you know Tracy Jordan? Meh, I took a pill earlier. I didn’t get my September issue of ‘O Magazine’ do you have the number for subscriptions? Haha, why would you? Blah! I eat emotionally.  One time at summer camp I kissed a girl on a dare but then she drowned!  Aaaand here comes some more stuff. I hate my feet, and one time I had a sex dream about Nate Berkus but then halfway through he turned into Doctor Oz. Has that ever happened to you? – Liz

Yeah…maybe on second thought they shouldn’t let me near her.

I’m such a big fan, they even considered my name (Kristina) for Jack’s daughter!

Ok, I’ve gone too far.

I just love television so much. – Kenneth

In closing, I believe that my dedication to, and totally valid obsession with, the show merit a trip their studios in New York and the opportunity to be an extra on the show!  I am asking anyone who reads this post to forward it to their friends, in the hopes that it will reach the good people of 30 Rock.

Also, in case there are other competitors, I am willing to compete for the title of Biggest Fan.  We can have a Page-Off!

Every summer DeLand hosts “Tropical Nights” in downtown.  They shut down Indiana Ave. and create a street party, complete with live music, food vendors, and (most importantly) snow-cones.  All of the businesses downtown stay open late and have different sales and activities at their establishments to attract customers.  They sell drinks outdoors – in fact, you can walk around with your beverage.  It’s like our own Mardi Gras!   It’s a big success, and I was here for one of them last year.

Last night was the first one this year and I headed down with a friend.  I was shocked, like last time, at the crowd on the sidewalks and street.  It was like being in DC or Boston again; people on the streets!  The night was really fun – we grabbed hot dogs at Casey’s on the Corner (YUM), we took in some music at Da Vinci’s (best outdoor venue for music), we went dancing at Aces of Spades (upstairs in the Artisan Hotel, which changes ownership like twice a year – but good dancing none the less).  We then ended up at Brickhouse, which on a normal night is filled with DeLand residents of all ages, enjoying food/drink and watching sports at the bar.  Unfortunately, we didn’t take into account that Stetson (my alma mater) was in Summer Session and so many college students would be there (it’s the #1 spot for Stetson students to go out drinking).

Things were quite lovely at first.  I was there with my girl friend and two boys and we were all having fun people watching.  Stetson is known for their “pretty boys;” right out of the pages of A&F or J. Crew, they are nice to look/drool at (the girls are very attractive as well, in case you were wondering).  We were sitting at a side table, chatting, when one particularly drunk kid (he couldn’t have been over 19), starts “backing it up” to me.  Booty dancing.  Like a white boy.  A 5’10, 120lb, incoherant, white boy.  It was funny, at first.  We laughed, at first.  But then it continued, and went past the point of being funny, to being annoying and obnoxious.

Now,  having been a college student myself, ages and ages ago, I understand the need to get out there and act the fool every once in awhile.  Especially during the summer, when classes are few and your are probably a freshman who’s enjoying your first weeks of real freedom.

That’s great for you.

However, there comes a point when you eventually cross a line.  Or 12.  We all do it.  And this little boy had crossed his.  I wasn’t even that bothered by him, to tell you the truth.   I was more annoyed that no one had his back.  He was surrounded by other students, who knew him I’m sure, and no one stepped in and pulled him off of me; a stranger, an older women who was clearly done with his attention.  I was really embarassed for my alma mater.

See, Stetson has a reputation among the residents of DeLand of being filled with over-privledged white kids, who come from Connecticut (sorry Conn, you were the first NE state I thought of), and act arrogant and snobby to the town folks.  In contract, DeLand has a reputation (among the students) of being filled with redneck “townies,” who are uneducated and missing some of the teeth.  As you can see, we love our stereotypes around here.

I have defended both sides to each other, as I know for a fact that the stereotypes are (mostly) incorrect.  So when I see a group of students fulfilling that stereotype, boosting it even, it pisses me off.   I’m an alumnae of the University AND its Greek system.  I stress the greek part because they have an even stronger rep for being princesses and douchebags.  So when some 18 y.0. tool and his friends are out there giving my college a bad name, I’m gonna do something.

After repeatedly telling the boy to move on and stop sitting on my lap and grinding in my face, I then show him my drink and demonstrate how I am going to pour it down his pants if he doesn’t move.  He was completely drunk, to the point of not being able to communicate with words, only using his hands (and ass moving) to try and speak to me.  Awesome.  I warn him about three times that I’m going to dump the drink.  Hey, I’m not going to kill you without a warning shot.  He is obviously not understanding me, so when he comes up again I follow-thru with my promise and dump the drink down his back.  He reacted a bit, to the cold I’m sure, and backed off.  He actually tried coming up again, but I think one of his friends finally came up and pulled him back.

Speaking of which, let me go back to being in the friends.  I don’t even care if he was a freshman, someone should have been decent enough to help him out.  It’s one thing for you to act like a fool to other college students/people you know, and quite another to harrass a stranger.  That’s not cool with me and that truly is what set me off.

Had I thought it through, I would have dragged his ass over to his friends and tore them a new one for representing our campus in such a negative light.  No one puts my alma mater in the corner!  Or something like that.

I’ve decided that next time I catch them harrassing “townies,” I will deliver them to the President’s front porch (located about two blocks down), with a note attached to their shirt, and ring the doorbell.

This aggression will not stand!

*******************************************************************************************************************

In Season 1’s episode, “Hard Ball,” Josh is negotiating his contract with TGS, which is Jack’s favorite thing to do.  Liz warns Josh not to be afraid of Jack’s tactics because advertisers love him and he tests well.  Josh then uses this info against TGS during negotiations, even going so far as to call-in “sick” when he’s actually interviewing for “The Daily Show.”  Liz finds this out by running into him during the middle of the interview, which was taking place in the cafe downstairs at 30 Rock Center.

LIZ:  Josh?  [Josh spots Liz]  You stupid turd.

JOSH:  Hey!  Liz, this is —

LIZ:  Yeah, I can guess who this is.  Are you trying to get on another show, behind my back?

JOSH:  Look, Liz, I’m sorry.  It’s just business.

LIZ:  No.  It’s not “business.”  I stood up for you!  You were opening for a puppet show when I found you!  How could you betray me like this?  You know, that’s not even the worst part.  You want to know what the worst part is? [Starts hitting him]  You. Proved. Jack Donaghy.  Right.  Again!  [Starts to walk away, comes back]  And by the way, what kind of moron calls out sick and then comes in to work to have a meeting?

JOSH:  I get a NBC discount here.

LIZ:  Idiot!

There are three things I have learned never to discuss with people: religion, politics, and The Great Pumpkin.

– Linus, Peanuts

Well Linus, I tackled religion in my last post so it only seems appropriate that I hit politics next.  Much like religion, I’ve been thinking about writing on this for a long time; it’s just such a large and potentially sensitive subject that I never dedicated any time to it.  However, I was prompted (once again) by a discussion I had with a stranger last night:

I mostly debate politics with convervatives/republicans when I’m out; folks who are older and white(r) and male.  I ran into a fellow last night – white, 48 y.o., and a business owner.  He didn’t give off the normal Deep South, southern attitude; he also gave off no redneck vibe.  He said that he was an independent and that he had actually done his research and was well-informed on the constitution (carries it with him!) and politics.  He runs a medical device company in the area and caught my attention when he started going off about healthcare reform and how much he hated it, and Obama.  I naturally wove myself into the conversation and asked him what he felt was terrible about it.  Among other things, he felt that the reform was going to bankrupt the insurance companies and that all of our taxes would go up by 20% in order to cover the insurance.

20%, really?   Seems like a bit much.  Especially since many people pay that, or less, IN TOTAL for their income tax.  I started asking him how in the world our taxes were going to double simply due to the mandate.  He started explaining, but it was so tangental that I had problems keeping up with him.  I think he was quoting research he had done, but I hadn’t heard that high tax mentioned until this point and was unsure what his sources were.

He explained to me that, as a business owner who works in medical devices, he spends a lot of his time reading and hearing about healthcare news.  Fine, this sounds promising – I’m interested to know what he’s found out.  He then went back to the idea that the insurance companies will soon be bankrupt, which I had to press the pause button on.  Knowing what I know about insurance companies and their high profits and their countless lobbyists, I was finding it hard to believe that they would collapse anytime soon.

And then he told me that all the banks were going to collapse.

And that Obama was an idiot and a criminal and should be impeached.

And that a Saudi Arabian Prince paid for Obama’s Harvard education (“look it up!”  I did.  And I found no legitimate support for it.)

And that Obama has no “American Values” because he was raised in Indonesia and Hawaii(not the US?) and that only people born in the US of A could have “American Values.”  “Why does Romney have Amerian Values?” I asked.  “Because he was born here!” he exclaimed.  I brought up the absurdity of Obama’s mother having created this “conspiracy” of his birthplace since day one because, you know, she KNEW he would be running for Prez one day.  “It’s a certifciate of live birth!  That means nothing!” he exclaimed.  I also brought up the stupidity of saying that someone has American Values SIMPLY because they are born on our soil (genetic?).

And that we might as well vote for Romney because things can’t get any worse than they are.  “But things can alwasy get worse, no?”  I asked. How was he so certain that Romney would be a positive change?  And he was quick to say that he didn’t know, that he was just going with the idea that anything is better than what we have.  Sure.  Ok.

But it gets better/weirder!

He then goes on to say that there’s NOTHING we can do to stop the demise of the United States.

“Nothing?” I asked.

“Nothing,” he repeats.

Well now, that it quite the defeatest attitude.  You’re saying that the country is going to self-destruct but but there’s nothing we can do about it.  Not even voting for Romney (which we should still do, simply because they can’t get worse.  but wait, he already said they can, and will).  We’re effectively a trainwreck with no breaks to fix.

So what’s your political view again?

He hates Obama; he hated Bush.  He thinks all government is corrupt, but has no solution on what to do.  None.  In the half-hour we spoke, I came up with quite a few ways to work backwards to get rid of some of the corruption.  Although, like him, I  had to agree that I didn’t know how we could unite as a people to fight the corporations and lobbyists with unlimited funds who ultimately control our government.  He seemed to agree with some thoughts I had, which made it all the stranger to me that he had never spent time focusing on a solution.  Just focused on complaining.   Loudly.

At least I try, people!  At least I realize that there is corruption on both sides and that it’s going to take a lot of unraveling to correct it.  It was really disheartening to see someone so negative and defeated regarding the future.  I mean, if you’re not even going to try to come up with a solution, stop bitching about the problems.

In another spin in the debate, he told me that there are five groups of people that are liberal.  This I gotta hear.

1.  Minorities (Bingo!  You can stop there, I told him. I’m done!)

2.  Students (those educated asses)

3.  Professors (those asses trying to futher educate the other asses)

4.  Artists (I’ll cover that in a minute – entirely another topic!)

5.  Gays

Now, he was quite hesitant to tell me that last group because he “didn’t want to be politically incorrect.”  I literally laughed out loud (not the first time in our discussion) and let him know that he crossed that line ages ago.  I then went on to guess the final group – only took two tries.

Ahem.  This is quite the group of folks these crazy liberals are, ain’t it?  I was completely intrigued by this man’s views; I mean, like, write a whole disseration on his madness, intrigued.

Going back to artists and art, we gotta rewind.

This fellow was originally talking to my friend – gay male, hair dresser, and “mayor” of DeLand.  I say this because he knew every.single.person that walked into the bar.  They all came up, hugged him, shared a laugh.  So the fellow brings up the idea of art to my gay friend, telling him that “all art could be wiped from existence and we would continue to function with no issues.”

Yes.  He said it.

My friend had a quizzical look on his face and brought up the fact that language itself began with cave drawings…you know, ART.  The fellow continues talking, saying that artists contribute nothing real to society.  “What I do is real!  I make decisions that affect people and families!  All an artists has to decide is how to mold their next sculpture!”

THIS was in the point in the conversation when I started laughing.  It was more like a hoot.

My friend then brings up the fact that he himself is an artist and also has to make “real” decisions.  All the time.  The fellow brings up the point that he does photography as a side job, takes pics of the Orlando ballet, and is just all too familiar with artists.  I mean, why else would he make a statement like that?  He’s an artists himself!

So back to wiping art of the face of the earth.  My friend, wisely, gets up and moves to a different part of the bar, wanting nothing to do with our debate (we’d gone political at that point).  I wanted to yell, “Come back!  This affects YOU.  He’s talking about THE GAYS!!  And THE ARTISTS!!”

Yeah, I tend to get a little worked up when it comes to discussions.  And I just couldn’t understand why you couldn’t want to argue about something that directly speaks about you and who you are.  However, I then realized that some people don’t want to discuss politics – ever – and it doesn’t matter if it’s about slandering who they are.  That’s fine, I’m ok with that.  To each their own.  I’ve got a loud enough voice for us all 🙂

The fellow believes that the first thing to go in a failing society should be the arts.  I then brought up the fact that during The Great Depression, and other periods of economic depression, more people actually went to the movies – to escape!  Arts and entertainment had a very important function during these times; they lifted the spirits of the people.  People who needed something to look forward to when the rest of their lives were pretty miserable.  So even though he might want to get rid of the arts first, that certainly isn’t what happens.  What actually happens?  We get rid of our public services – teachers, police, fireman.

He agreed with me.

Furthermore, the wealthy love the arts!  Who’s sitting up front at the opera, who’s paying millions for an original Van Gough?  The rich!  So even as the rest of us are living out a recession – and the rich stay rich or get richer – the wealthy continue to spend on luxeries, like arts and entertainment.

He agreed with me.

In the end, we decided to end the debate because it wasn’t good conversation (for those suffering beside us).  We were actually very friendly during the whole debate – I, laughing at the ridiculous mess coming out of his mouth – and he, just stating the things he believes.  I felt it was a pretty healthy debate, in that I was able to find out where he was coming from (mostly) and put some new ideas in front of him.

Ok, so this whole post was one big tangent and really didn’t hit all the points I wanted.  That’s ok, I just really needed to get that conversation off my chest.  I can just write another post on politics in general – or a million, since, you know, I OWN THIS.

**********************************************************************************************************

A little background on this 30 Rock quote.  In Season 2, staunch Republican Jack Donaghy dates C.C. Cunningham (played by the fantastic Edie Falco), a Democratic Congresswoman from Vermont.   They keep it a secret at first, because C.C. is part of a suit against a division of NBC Universal, where Jack is a VP.  And while they have polar opposite views on politics, they can’t help the phyiscal attraction they feel for one another.

Jack:  What are you doing in Harlem?

C.C.:  Oh, I’m working out of the Clinton offices for a few weeks.  I’m helping Hillary retool her universal healthcare platform.

Jack:  God, I want to kiss you on the mouth to stop you from saying such ridiculous things.

I went to Tampa and Naples last weekend to visit some high school and college friends.  Hard to believe, this was the furthest I’ve travelled since returning to Florida almost a year ago.  While in Naples, I stayed with one of my best friends, who decided to host a group of us for some weekend fun.  Being the awesome nerds that we are, we decided to have a game night, with some adult beverages – which was really a lot of fun.

Towards the end of the night, I went to the bathroom to change into my PJs.  I could still hear the conversation going on in the living room.  They had switched the topic to religion and were discussing agnostics vs. atheists and those of faith in general.  Someone stated that they couldn’t understand why anyone was agnostic.  It seemed cut and dry to them – you either believed in the existence of a god or you didn’t.  How could you be on the fence?  To them, it just didn’t make sense that anyone would be waivering on this topic.

Perhaps they viewed it as a sign of laziness, an inability to commit?  I’m not sure, since I didn’t have the opportunity to really delve into it with them once I returned to the living room (blame the lack of concentration on the adult beverages).  However, it really struck a chord in me because I am one of those people – someone who just doesn’t….know.  Can’t tell you for sure whether a god exists, and in which form they exist, and therefore choose to be open to either possibility (meaning that I don’t strike down those on either side).  I guess many would consider that agnosticism.

I wanted to find a superb definition, but since I’m lazy (and researching would have led to a tangent and not completing this post), here’s what Wiki has to say:

In the popular sense, an agnostic is someone who neither believes nor disbelieves in the existence of a deity or deities, whereas a theist and an atheist believe and disbelieve, respectively.  In the strict sense, however, agnosticism is the view that human reason is incapable of providing sufficient rational grounds to justify the belief that deities either do or do not exist.

I’m happy with the popular sense, in the context of my post (going into my thoughts on the strict definition would take too much time and tangents).

I’ve struggled with the idea of faith, and my faith in particular, for a number of years.  I’ve been exposed to a number of religions, read up on others, and have plenty of religious family and friends.  I’ve attended services, chatted with believers, and made myself open to the idea of faith and a specific religion.  And you know what I’ve discovered after 32 years?  Nothing has stuck.  Nothing has touched me or moved me in a way that would lead me to want to subscribe to that particular religion/faith/belief.

This used to really bother me.  I wondered if I was missing the faith gene (if such a thing exists – see I won’t even say whether I believe it does or doesn’t, lol).  Or that I was just incapable of making a decision and sticking to it.  See, I think it would be really wonderful to be a believer.  To have faith in something bigger than me.  Faith and religion bring comfort to so many, support and strength to them when they need it, and I found myself longing for the same feeling.

Now,  I’m not putting that out there as a cry for help – please don’t feel the need to evangelize to me.  Seriously.  I just wanted to be honest about the appeal of faith.  I think it’s a wonderful thing, for those that have it.  However, I am not one of those people, and I’m ok with that.  I’m still open to the possibility that it could happen to me in my lifetime, but I’m also comfortable with the idea that it won’t.  That I’m simply not wired in that way.  And that makes me neither a good nor bad person.

An extension of faith/religion in society is the set of morals you have and the way in which you conduct your life.  This, this I understand.  While I don’t care whether you have faith, or what your particular religion is, I do care about your values and morals.  Your actions, they affect me and the rest of society.  For me, being a good person is completely independent of your faith.  Now, this isn’t to say that religion isn’t a platform for communicating values and morals, it most certainly is, I’m just putting in the disclaimer that people don’t always follow their rules set out by their religion.

So where was I going with this?  I’m not entirely sure.  I have been wanting to broach this subject on my blog and the conversation last weekend prompted me.  I really was offended by this person’s statement.  Thinking about it more, I think they were indicating a lack of strength in being unable to “choose a side.”  And I honestly believe there’s no weakness in my position – that being agnostic means I don’t have the balls to decide what I believe (for lack of a better phrase).  In fact, I think being rooted in certain beliefs, unable to open your mind to other possibilities, is a barrier in creating good change and advancing our society.

I’m sure I’ll be exploring this topic more in the future.

TRACY:  Hey, Liz Lemon.  Do you know where I could find a good church?

LIZ:  How good?  Like, Judaism-good, or just, like, Unitarian?

***********************************************************************

TRACY:  So, what’s your religion, Liz Lemon?

LIZ:  Hmm, I pretty much just do whatever Oprah tell me.

Long time no see, friends!

This has been The Summer of Kristina, so to speak.  I have been enjoying an extended period of unemployment.  I’m starting grad school next month and needed to switch to a job that had a flexible schedule to allow me enough time for classes.  I let my boss know a few months ahead of time and was able to recruit and train my replacement.  I figured that I would just sign up with a temp agency and work there until I was able to find permanent placement.  You know, because it’s so easy these days to just pick-up and switch jobs.

Ahem.

So yeah, it’s taking a little bit longer than anticipated.  What have I been doing in the meantime, you ask?  Living the good retired life.   Which it turns out, is pretty damn boring.  My main activities have included include:

• Applying to jobs and hounding my temp agency recruiters
• Hiding out at a friend’s house until I told my parents I was unemployed
• Mowing our lawn
• Mowing our elderly neighbor’s yard
• Painting various rooms in the house (for the first time in 25 years)
• Picking out new sofas (for the first time in 20 years)
• Keeping my #1 Customer status at Da Vinci’s
• Celebrating my 32nd Birthday (month-long event)
• Watching documentaries on NetFlix
• Wathching Daily Show and Colbert on Hulu
• Reclining on our new motorized sofas while watching NetFlix and Hulu
• Going on Facebook
• Going on Pinterest
• Scheduling as many doctor visits as possible until my insurance runs out
• Hiding gallons of ice cream from my Dad so he doesn’t go into a diabetic coma
• Ignoring my Mom when she blames me for things that go wrong/missing that are almost always her fault
• Sleeping
• Not writing on this blog

As you can see, I’ve been busy.

Honestly, though, I mostly avoided writing on the blog because I thought I would find a job quickly and be able to start writing again and not really have to focus on the unemployed period.  This is something I’ve never had to deal with before, so I didn’t really want to write about it.  For the nine years directly following my graduation from college, I worked 99% of the time.  Whenever I switched jobs, I was moving to a new city, and I only had a day or so to travel and unpack.  I literally didn’t take a day off in between positions.  And most of my vacations were about a week long.  I haven’t had this much time off….ever.  It’s strange.

At first I was hyper-focused on finding work, scanning Craigslist and Indeed.com several times a day for anything that might fit my experience.  Unfortunately, there wasn’t a lot of movement in the Central FL area.  Sometimes days would go by before a suitable position was advertised.  Having an HR background, I’ve learned how to only apply for positions that I have a reasonable shot at getting an interview for; I can’t tell you how much time I wasted as a manager sorting through completely unqualified resumes.

Due to the technology shift of the last 15 years, no one goes door to door looking for jobs anymore.  You sit on your laptop and apply with a few strokes of the keyboard.  It doesn’t take a lot of time.  So you’re left with all these hours of free-time, but not real free-time, because you’re constantly anxious about finding a job.  It’s basically the cruelest type of “vacation” you can take.  Lots of time off, but no money to do anything with it.  A cruel, cruel fate.

So here I am, a week into July, with no real job prospects.  I will admit there is more movement in hiring – a lot of people switch jobs in the summer – but I’m restricted in the location of the job (near my house or school) and the hours of the job.   To say that it’s been a frustrating time would be an understatement.  But I’m drudging though it, knowing that I will have somewhat of a fixed schedule when I start school.  I just hate the lack of stability and permanence in my life right now; not having my own space at home, most of my things being in storage, not having the job situation locked down, not having my school schedule set, and not knowing where I’m going to live when the school year begins.  It’s stressful.

But the summer’s not over yet, so there’s still hope.  There are some potential trips in the works, job leads that I’m following up on, and lots of good books to read.  I’m even getting a tan (yes, I was already tan – but now it’s more like SE Asian tan instead of Chinese tan).

Oh yes, and this blog!  Expect many more posts in the near future (you can thank Mrs. Foster-Gonzalez for pushing me start writing again).

Liz: There’s just four things I want to do this summer: be outdoors, wear shapeless clothing, do some mindless activity like gardening, and learn Spanish.

Dr. Spaceman: There are four things I want to do this summer, but they’re roommates, so it’s tricky.

I loved school.  Seriously.  I am probably one of the .01% of people who has never hated school.  There wasn’t a time (READ: Middle School) that I didn’t enjoy the classes I was in, the teachers I had, and the kids I hung around.   Yes, there were some bad teachers, classes, and kids thrown in there, but not to the extent that they ruined my school experience.  I think one of the reasons I was fortunate in this realm is because I was placed early-on with a group of kids just like me: NERDS.

You see, in our town, they didn’t pull out gifted students for a period each week, or a time each day.  They separated them into their own classroom, with their own teachers.  We were free to be ourselves – geeky and awkward and, ultimately, nerdy.  A characteristic that can normally be used against you, we were all bonded together by our interest in learning.  It was ok to be excited about the science experiment or completely engrossed in the novel we were studying.  Sure, there was a social hierarchy within the gifted kids – even smart kids can be cool – but it felt like a much narrower spectrum.  Whatever we might find to tease or bully each other about, and there was plenty, there was a sense of comraderie within the program.  And because they kept us together we had the same people in our classes, year after year.  The further along I went in school the smaller my class of nerds became, and the tighter our bond.

One thing I noticed about being in a separate program is that the classroom itself felt different.  The classes I had outside of gifted were often choatic and unorganized.  Granted, these were all non-core classes (art, photography, geography, gym), but the ability of the teacher to control the classroom seemed to weaken when dealing with a group of randomly placed students.  There are too many competing needs, too many varied interests. And this wasn’t specific to us being gifted at all.  When you have a group that all share the same desire and goal, I think it’s easier to teach to them.  My core classes were quieter, more focused.  You had students that acted out, but it wasn’t the norm and the teachers were able to contain them.  The point being, I really enjoyed school because the students and teachers allowed us to have amazing classes.

One class I loved, one teacher I loved, was in 6th grade.  We didn’t have different teachers for every single class back then; I had a homeroom teacher that I spent a majority of my day with.  I think a lot of of favorite teachers occur early in school because these are the people we spent the entire day with, our surrogate moms.

And mine was fantastic.  She created a warm and inviting atmosphere for learning and living.  I loved being in her classroom each and every day.  Because, to be honest, it was better than being at home.  When you have a less than ideal home life – parents fighing, not much interaction within the family – you look for a connection elsewhere.  And I found that in Mrs. Staudt’s class.  I remember liking her instantly, and forming a close bond with her over the school year.

It was the first year of middle school, being at the bottom of the student totem pole.  A critical period in a student’s life.  That was the year I read Watership Down  and created a replica of the train from Murder on the Orient Express. That was the year we went on a field trip to “Medieval Times” and a classmate passed out next to the blacksmith 🙂

We wrote in journals everyday.  I kept all of mine.  It was a great way to release some of the tensions from home and get feedback through a safe venue.  Now, middle school is an awkward time for most of us, me included, so having a great teacher during this period is pretty damn important.  I’m so grateful for what she gave me.

The last time I saw Mrs. Staudt was the last day of 8th grade.  I went around one last time to visit some of my favorite teachers, and I remembered thinking about how much I was goin to miss her.  I haven’t seen or talked to her since.

So you can imagine my excitement today when a friend posted a drawing he made for Mrs. Staudt when he was in 6th grade – she kept that drawing for the last 19 years and recently shared this with him after becoming friends on Facebook.

She’s on Facebook!!

Now I know it’s not a big deal nowadays for teachers to be on FB – a lot of teachers friend their students as soon as they leave their class (and some while they are IN their class, which is another post for another time).  However, BACK IN THE DAY we didn’t have such technology. So you could go years without communicating with adults from your past, like a favorite teacher.  They become frozen in time and you contineue to imagine them as they were, teaching away in a little classroom, never aging a bit.

It was completely surreal to see Mrs. Staudt on FB, aged to current day.  No longer tied in my mind to the early 90s (think: floral dresses!) and confined to a classroom.   She’s now retired after 30 years of teaching, and her first grandson was born a few months ago.

She had a life outside of school!  Mind blown!  Well, mind blown when we were younger; in our mind, teachers live at school and are not allowed into the general population.  Seeing them in public was always strange.  Always awkward.  I can’t imagine being friends with them back then – seeing post of their families, their vacations, videos of penguins they reccommend we watch.  It was a different time, pre-social media.  I’m not saying it was better or worse – it was both – just different.

I am glad that the technology now exists as I have really enjoyed being back in touch with several of my former teachers.  It’s been fun catching up with them and finding out what they’ve been doing in their lives, outside of school.   It also gives me the opportunity to let them know how they influenced and changed my life, in such positive ways.  Were in not for the encouragement and support of exceptional teachers, I’d be a different person today.  Both mentally and emotionally.  I guess that’s why I’ve always been drawn to the education field in my career choices; they gave me something that is invaluable and I hope to one day pay it forward the young people I work with.  Nerds and jocks alike 😉

One final thing on Nerds.  My Dad and I use that term for certain contestants on Jeopardy!, but in the opposite of how I’ve been using it in this post.  It’s really his term, he uses “nerd” when describing really annoying smart people – you know who I’m talking about, Jeopardy! watchers.  They just possess this quality of being annoyingly nerdy.   It’s the way the talk, the things they say, the manner in which they give their answers on the show.  They just ooze nerdiness.  And when my Dad and I see them on the show, we jump to tag them first.  NERD!  The fastest and easiest way to spot the nerds is during the “get to know you” segement during the show.  This is when contestants feel free to wave their freak/geek flags.  And that’s where you see the spectrum of Nerd come out.  There are the cool nerds – the rocket scientist – and there the weird nerds- the biologist whose specializes in algae – and the boring nerds – the CPA.  Sorry CPAs 🙂  And then there are the NERDS Dad is talking about.  They can be any profession, any age, any race.  They just gotta be aggravatingly nerdy.  It’s sorta like our version of a drinking game.

********************************************************************************************************************

One of my favorite nerds is Toofer from 30 Rock. His nerdom was revealed to us in the very first episode.

Toufer: [Complaining to Liz] Surely our massive conglomerate parent company could spring for a samovar of coffee.
Frank: Yeah, or, like, a big coffee dispenser!
Toufer: [Condescendingly] That’s what a samovar is.
Frank: Are there other black nerds, or is it just you and Urkel?