I wrote a post when I first started this blog about a book I read called "Highly Sensitive People." Because of some computer glitch (probably the user) I couldn't keep it. The book describes "Highly Sensitive People" not as weaklings but simply as people who are very sensitive to their surroundings. The doctor who wrote the book says that about 20% of the population could be considered "highly sensitive." Now, these are not cry babies, or whiners but rather intuitive people. These are people that pick up the sublteties in the environment and in others that some may not notice.
The book was a revelation to me because I am definitely an HSP! It explained why I respond the way I do in different situations. It explained why I get exhausted more quickly than others in social situations - because I am overloaded with information!
Anyway, this way that I am carries over into my teaching, into the setting up of my classroom. Some teachers just cover their walls with posters about everything and anything. I am very picky about what I have on my walls. It must meet 3 criteria: 1. it must be age appropriate. I don't want to insult my 12 year olds with babyish decor. 2. It must be relevant. It must be either about something we study or it must be advice concerning behavior - I have one poster that I use every year: "You are responsible for your own actions." I refer to it a lot! 3. I must like it. I don't want to be in a room for 10 months with something that I hate.
I want my classroom to be a comfortable temperature. Thankfully, I have the control in my classroom!
I want my classroom to not smell offensive. That is difficult and on toward impossible with 6th graders many of whom have not discovered the joy of bathing and using deodorant. I have a lot of air fresheners in my classroom.
I want to feel like I can breathe and feel that I am not crowded. That, too is difficult to insure. This year I already have 22, there will be 25 before 6 weeks is up. But I try to be proactive by making sure that I don't have a lot of clutter and furniture in my room. I bought a new desk which is considerably smaller but better for having one-on-one worktime with students. I keep my filing contained to a 2 drawer file cabinet, my reference books and tools in one locked cabinet. My bulletin board materials and posters are in 3 small containers. We are a bare bones operation. If you know teachers, you know that this is quite a feat to have so little. When I started teaching 11 years ago I had nothing and I learned to get along with very little. I have kept that practice through the years.
When I go to school today I will take some more photos so you can see my HSP classroom. I've just about got it together.
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Monday, July 26, 2010
Classroom Chaos
This chaos is my classroom. It's almost finished being painted. Then I will sort out the flotsam and jetsom.
I'm also working on my parent handbook, researching some field trips, etc, etc, etc.
So, I'll post when I can.
Friday, July 23, 2010
2nd Annual SGL Birthday Century Ride
My husband is an avid cyclist. At least when he has time. It is his preferred form of regular exercise and he tries to do different rides to mix it up and keep it interesting.
Last year for his birthday, he decided to ride to Alabama. 50 some miles there and 50 some miles back. In the cycling world a 100 mile ride is called a century. So, he jokingly called it his "Birthday Century Ride." He turned 50 last year and I jokingly said it was his "Feat of Strength To Prove He Wasn't An Old Man Ride."
Well, this year, for his birthday he did the ride again in 95+ degree heat. It took him 7 1/2 hours to ride 103 miles. (He took a detour off the route to get food).
I think I will call it the "SGL Birthday INSANITY Century Ride."
Happy Birthday Steave and even though I think you are insane it is rather incredible that you can accomplish even crazy things you set your mind to! I'm proud of you in a rather worried way.
If Joel can work up a t-shirt design, then you can order a t-shirt, bumper sticker, coffee mug or hat from the grand event and then maybe next year you can join him! We can go national!
Here are some photos he took while on his ride.
Last year for his birthday, he decided to ride to Alabama. 50 some miles there and 50 some miles back. In the cycling world a 100 mile ride is called a century. So, he jokingly called it his "Birthday Century Ride." He turned 50 last year and I jokingly said it was his "Feat of Strength To Prove He Wasn't An Old Man Ride."
Well, this year, for his birthday he did the ride again in 95+ degree heat. It took him 7 1/2 hours to ride 103 miles. (He took a detour off the route to get food).
I think I will call it the "SGL Birthday INSANITY Century Ride."
Happy Birthday Steave and even though I think you are insane it is rather incredible that you can accomplish even crazy things you set your mind to! I'm proud of you in a rather worried way.
If Joel can work up a t-shirt design, then you can order a t-shirt, bumper sticker, coffee mug or hat from the grand event and then maybe next year you can join him! We can go national!
Here are some photos he took while on his ride.
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Back to School & Some Crappy Photos That I Like
My sister-in-law got this sticker for me in England when she was there recently. Hahaha! I LOVE it!
I am back in "school mode" now. I've been mailing supply lists and postcards out to my students, updating my parent handbook, looking into field trips and all that stuff. I'm going to have a large class this year so I get a full time aide which I am excited about. I'll get to interview a couple of prospects this week.
I'm going to miss blogging so often. I will not have the time to devote to it as I have during the summer. My little goal during school is: one post a week. I'm going to miss all of this quality time that we've spent together, you and me, my imaginary readers.
I'll be here, just not as often.
Change of gears. Did you know that I went to college for photography? Honestly, I didn't get very far when I decided that a career in it wasn't for me. I still have a great appreciation for those who have an eye for a photo. I always thought I had that eye, but I lost it somewhere in my impatience (and my waning eyesight). My daughter found it and takes beautiful photos. I am envious of her ability to be tedious. I wish she would start a blog to show off her photos, I would direct you there.
Anyway, here are a few crappy pictures that I took with my little point and shoot digital that looks like I was trying to be artistic.
If you want to see some great photos, check out: Oeiras Daily Photo
Monday, July 19, 2010
Feeling A Little Brackish
During the cleaning I was trying to think about what I would say here on my blog. I wanted to be clever and entertaining. I wanted to tell you about interesting discoveries, food, activities and experiences. I may still tell you about all that, but at this time all I express has an undertone of sadness. 3 reasons...
One is that I am in possession of the schizophrenic heart of a mother. If you're a mother you totally understand the incredible capacity we have to have living in our hearts two polar opposite emotions - at the same time! I went down and saw my son and daughter-in-law's home and life. I am overwhelmed with pride at how they have taken a little condominium and made it their own. So creative and comfortable! I'm so proud at how they've taken the town and made it their own. They have explored and discovered and they are participating in the community! They perform at Open Mic Nights at coffee shops, they attend art shows and concerts. They've found parks and beaches and shops and fellow artists.
I'm so proud at how Joel is doing so well at his job at the church. The people are allowing him to use his creativity and unique expression. Something that I was worried that would get squelched for more traditional "ministry." I am impressed at how Katie is taking charge and going on job interviews. She will get a job soon. They are making friends. It's all incredibly wonderful and I am so proud!
Then comes the insanity. At the very same time I feel grief. I'm sad because I see with my own eyes that my boy won't be coming home. He really is grown up. He really is not my little boy anymore.
That's one. Two - I LOVE the ocean! We rented an incredibly beautiful and comfortable house right on the Gulf. Maybe 10 steps from the water. I sat with the sea and I was sad. The oil spill made me sad. I saw hermit crabs with tar balls on them. I saw Laughing Gulls fishing in oily water. The elegant blue heron carefully stepping through the sludge. The ocean is always beautiful, I was glad to be there and the oil well was capped during our visit - but I felt like I was bedside of a sick friend. He will recover, but it will be a while.
Three...Ocean Springs, Biloxi and New Orleans was severely damaged by Katrina 5 years ago and the devastation is still evident. They are rebuilding, in fact, the house we stayed it was leveled but the owners rebuilt it. The people are resillient, it's amazing, but there are still abandoned buildings and houses. The trees were all stripped of their branches, but they are regrowing fuzzy leafy arms all over their trunks. It's strange looking, but there is life and regrowth.
All three - my son, the ocean, the communities are all doing very well, extremely well. But there was just an undercurrent of sadness. You might read this and say that I'm a "glass is half empty person" but I see what I see, I feel what I feel. It was a great trip and I'd do it over in a heartbeat, so don't think I'm being depressing when I say I feel a little brackish. The place of brackish water is where fresh water and sea water mix. The trick is learning to live in either and in between.
I feel that I'm getting a cosmic lesson these days. Something akin to putting salt on watermelon to bring out the flavor.
Friday, July 9, 2010
Going Down to The Dirty South
I am mentally getting prepared to go to Mississippi, the state I love to hate. #1 reason to hate it: it took my son away. #2 reason: it's part of the "dirty south."
My Definition of The South
Growing up in North Carolina, I never thought of myself as a Southerner. I lived in NORTH Carolina. I considered South Carolina, Georgia, Alabama, Mississippi and Louisianna the South. Florida is some kind of tropical/northern/resort fusion thing so I don't include it in my South. In the last few years I have been introduced to the native Floridian life and it's rough and gritty, full of pioneer-type people. They are not Southern, they are unique.
South Carolina and Georgia is what I consider "Rich South." This is where the Southern belles come from. Think of Scarlett, Tara, Twelve Oaks, cotton plantations. If you were here, I would do the Southern accent that this area has. This South is Savannah and Charleston (pronounced, "chaaaah-stun). I live outside of Atlanta, a big city!
Alabama, Mississippi and Louisianna is what I consider "The Dirty South." Alabama would not consider itself this, but I do. Just drive through Birmingham - dirty. It's like going back to the 60's. There's a time warp there. When I think of Mississippi, I think of Mississippi Delta Blues. "You can't sing the blues unless you've lived them" I've heard it said. So, it must be depressing down there if that's where the blues came from. I mean, Martin Luther King, Jr went down there and wrestled with the depressing people living in the weird time warp. He tried to help them. Louisianna, Cajun Cooking, Dirty Rice - even their food is dirty! (I actually love dirty rice)
I know I'm really bashing the Dirty South, but that has been my impression all my life. I am trying to change my attitude about it. Let's think of some good stuff: The music is really pretty good, soul food is good - collards, yams, fried chicken and catfish, gumbo, yeah, good. That's about all I can come up with right now. But I'll work on this!
So, when I go down, I WILL have a good attitude. I will look for good things! Can I get a witness here?
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Grey Gardens
I want to talk about Grey Gardens today. If you don't know, it's a documentary made by the Mayseles Brothers back in 1975 and it is also a movie with Drew Barrymore and Jessica Lange.
I stumbled across the original documentary on netflix and fell in love with Little Edie and Mother Darling. They are the aunt and cousin of Jackie Kennedy Onassis who lived in their home called Grey Gardens in East Hampton, NY. The two got some national attention when it was discovered that their home was a pit of filth and squalor. Newspaper headlines accused Jackie of ignoring them, so Jackie went in and had their home cleaned up and repaired.
Little Edie and Mother Darling are fascinating!! I am a sucker for crazies! Mother Darling lives in a bed covered with newspapers, food and cats. Little Edie dresses herself in some of the most outrageous costumes. She always binds her head up in scarves or shirts to cover her bald head. You can see a little bit of Edie here on youtube.
Please understand, I'm not making fun, maybe a little, but I can't stop watching them. It's like a puzzle I want to figure out - but I think there's no solution. I think I see a bit of my own insanity in them.
This is a piece of what Guy Kettlehack had to say on the official Grey Gardens fan site:
The thing was an amazing slow psychic train wreck that never quite entirely wrecked. A surreal sleight-of-hand turning nothing into -- well, visual nothing. It spooked me. Edie's lunatic confidences & scarves & flesh & animals & old eerie debutante photographs all seemed like broken shards of a psyche gaily tossing itself bit by bit into psychosis. I looked for something, anything to guide, ground me. Some sane Dorothy in Oz, someone to reassure me I wouldn't lose my own mind if I spent too much time with these people. But there was no one reliable enough for that. Big Mama Edie sometimes helped out a bit (kind of like the Red Queen when for a brief moment here or there she says something congruent to Alice and seduces her, falsely, into thinking she's not in hell) -- by contrast to the imploding people and house surrounding her she seemed to offer an iota or two of clear-eyed commentary -- but basically it was a coupla nut jobs flopping around and breaking down happily in front of us. My dangling palms began to sweat. "When am I gonna get out of here?" Edie asked in one of her many frazzled moments. I wondered the same thing.
It wasn't so much that these ladies needed help -- I was beginning to feel like I did.
Hahaha! So true!!
If you want to go for a little trip into Crazy Land, watch Grey Gardens. I suggest you watch the documentary first, then you'll see what an amazing job Drew Barrymore and Jessica Lange did in the movie.
I stumbled across the original documentary on netflix and fell in love with Little Edie and Mother Darling. They are the aunt and cousin of Jackie Kennedy Onassis who lived in their home called Grey Gardens in East Hampton, NY. The two got some national attention when it was discovered that their home was a pit of filth and squalor. Newspaper headlines accused Jackie of ignoring them, so Jackie went in and had their home cleaned up and repaired.
Little Edie and Mother Darling are fascinating!! I am a sucker for crazies! Mother Darling lives in a bed covered with newspapers, food and cats. Little Edie dresses herself in some of the most outrageous costumes. She always binds her head up in scarves or shirts to cover her bald head. You can see a little bit of Edie here on youtube.
Please understand, I'm not making fun, maybe a little, but I can't stop watching them. It's like a puzzle I want to figure out - but I think there's no solution. I think I see a bit of my own insanity in them.
This is a piece of what Guy Kettlehack had to say on the official Grey Gardens fan site:
The thing was an amazing slow psychic train wreck that never quite entirely wrecked. A surreal sleight-of-hand turning nothing into -- well, visual nothing. It spooked me. Edie's lunatic confidences & scarves & flesh & animals & old eerie debutante photographs all seemed like broken shards of a psyche gaily tossing itself bit by bit into psychosis. I looked for something, anything to guide, ground me. Some sane Dorothy in Oz, someone to reassure me I wouldn't lose my own mind if I spent too much time with these people. But there was no one reliable enough for that. Big Mama Edie sometimes helped out a bit (kind of like the Red Queen when for a brief moment here or there she says something congruent to Alice and seduces her, falsely, into thinking she's not in hell) -- by contrast to the imploding people and house surrounding her she seemed to offer an iota or two of clear-eyed commentary -- but basically it was a coupla nut jobs flopping around and breaking down happily in front of us. My dangling palms began to sweat. "When am I gonna get out of here?" Edie asked in one of her many frazzled moments. I wondered the same thing.
It wasn't so much that these ladies needed help -- I was beginning to feel like I did.
Hahaha! So true!!
If you want to go for a little trip into Crazy Land, watch Grey Gardens. I suggest you watch the documentary first, then you'll see what an amazing job Drew Barrymore and Jessica Lange did in the movie.
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
More Adventures in British Food - Mushy Peas
It had been a while since I had taken a gastric adventure and I got a hankering to see Tina's Mum at The Corner Shop (her name is Yvonne, but I like using the word "mum"). So, I went down to the Square to see what new British food I could try. The shop was packed!! I couldn't get in the door! I'm so glad they are doing so well! As I stood outside the door, I heard a man inquiring about Mushy Peas. I remembered my sister-in-law mentioning having Mushy Peas on her visit to England. So, that was my next adventure!
I bought a can, but not before I took a look at the map of the UK on the wall. Tina's Mum showed me where Kent was. I really wanted to feel connected to the place on the map, but it was just a map. She also showed me a cookbook that Tina had gotten at Harrod's. I bought another can of Heinz beans (I've become quite fond of beans on toast). Before I left, I asked Tina's Mum why I couldn't just get a regular can of peas and mush them up. She slowly shook her head, "no", in that kind, sympathetic way, patient with my ignorance. "It's just not the same."
Ok, so I was ready to try Mushy Peas! My prediction was that it would be like baby food, green and slimy. I read the directions on the can. Basically, just heat, but not to boiling it said. I opened the can and was surprised at the bright green color.
I scooped it in a small pan and began to heat. It was not as runny as I expected and it wasn't as slimy as I predicted. It had lumps of pea in it.
The consistency reminded me of refried beans.
This picture is not very clear, but I wanted you to see how thick it was.
The taste was not surprising, not horrible (unless you hate peas), not incredibly great, just kind of bland. I can see how someone might have grown up with it and would want it because it represents comfort and home, like boxed macaroni and cheese for me
.
I won't go out of my way to get Mushy Peas, but I'm glad I tried it.
Monday, July 5, 2010
Dressing the Dog
I am 47. I will be 48 very soon. I have gray hair that I don't color. I have wrinkles that I don't do anything about. I have an expanding middle that I also don't do anything about. My husband is 50, an old man. Handsome, but 50, nonetheless. My son is married, my daughter will be 20 next month. I'm having hot flashes, forgetting stuff, too young to quit but too tired to do too much. I'm not sure who I am and what I'm supposed to be doing. But one thing I am determined I won't do - dress the dog!
I have observed that there are some things that women my age do to help them cope with this "phase" of life. Here are a few:
1. Drink - Happy hour, Free Margarita Day, any occasion to get a buzz so they don't have to think about it.
2. Compete with their daughters - they are struggling with their fading youth, so they cover the gray, slather on the anti-wrinkle cream, hit the tanning bed and buy the same clothes as their daughters. They look scary.
3. Have an affair - to prove to themselves that they are still attractive.
4. Take their kid's leaving and husband's fading interest as a personal insult and get depressed and eat.
5. Buy stuff - cars, new furniture, trips.
6. Dress the dog - they have to do something with that "caretaking" drive that their kids don't need anymore.
It's that last one that I want to address. I have been through it and I completely understand how a woman feels when after 18 years of intense caretaking, it ends suddenly. We've spent 18 years honing our craft, discovering, streamlining, perfecting the art of taking care of people. Then in one day, there's a void. We have all this desire and knowledge, where do we put it? I, thankfully, have 25 students at school that I can lavish it on. But even if I didn't, I wouldn't put it on the dog!
There is a dog that lives at our house. Her name is Meg. I think she's Katie's dog. Katie thinks she's my dog. Steave knows she's not his dog. Meg doesn't understand why she has to live in a house with us, she'd rather be out running the surface of the earth, getting into people's garbage. I know she doesn't want to live with us. But I've demanded that she should, for her own good. She rebels. I get angry. I want her to get a job or at least mop the kitchen floor in order to be a productive member of our family society. Even if she could, she wouldn't. So, even when I might be desperate to take care of someone, Meg is never in the running.
If I'm going to do that - get a child replacement, then I want be creative. I saw a program, The Natural History of the Chicken and there's a woman who owns a chicken named Cotton and she takes care of it like a child. Cotton has a car seat, eats McDonald's hamburgers, goes swimming in the pool and gets his feathers blow dried. That's at least eccentric and interesting. A little, disturbing but that makes it exciting.
I took care of Joel's hermit crab, Smitty, one summer. I killed him. I did, however, think about getting him a new shell with a jolly roger painted on it. That's almost "dressing the dog." Maybe if I had gotten it, he wouldn't have died.
We went to my friends house yesterday for the 4th. He grilled out and we laughed. He was looking at a catalog of RV's. I told him that in addition to his "old man RV" he should get a chihuahua, name him Boss and put a little sheriff's uniform on him. (My friend is a Lieutenant Sheriff) Boss could ride on the dashboard of his RV. In my mind, Boss really liked the outfit. I laughed really hard for a long time about this.
I don't know, maybe if I had a dog that would appreciate a wardrobe I would do it. But does "dressing the dog" send a message to the world? What message? "My kids are gone, I miss buying stuff for them, so this dog is the next best thing?" I feel like if I buy Meg a shirt, I've crossed some line. Like maybe I'm officially old.
When is Free Margarita Day?
I have observed that there are some things that women my age do to help them cope with this "phase" of life. Here are a few:
1. Drink - Happy hour, Free Margarita Day, any occasion to get a buzz so they don't have to think about it.
2. Compete with their daughters - they are struggling with their fading youth, so they cover the gray, slather on the anti-wrinkle cream, hit the tanning bed and buy the same clothes as their daughters. They look scary.
3. Have an affair - to prove to themselves that they are still attractive.
4. Take their kid's leaving and husband's fading interest as a personal insult and get depressed and eat.
5. Buy stuff - cars, new furniture, trips.
6. Dress the dog - they have to do something with that "caretaking" drive that their kids don't need anymore.
It's that last one that I want to address. I have been through it and I completely understand how a woman feels when after 18 years of intense caretaking, it ends suddenly. We've spent 18 years honing our craft, discovering, streamlining, perfecting the art of taking care of people. Then in one day, there's a void. We have all this desire and knowledge, where do we put it? I, thankfully, have 25 students at school that I can lavish it on. But even if I didn't, I wouldn't put it on the dog!
There is a dog that lives at our house. Her name is Meg. I think she's Katie's dog. Katie thinks she's my dog. Steave knows she's not his dog. Meg doesn't understand why she has to live in a house with us, she'd rather be out running the surface of the earth, getting into people's garbage. I know she doesn't want to live with us. But I've demanded that she should, for her own good. She rebels. I get angry. I want her to get a job or at least mop the kitchen floor in order to be a productive member of our family society. Even if she could, she wouldn't. So, even when I might be desperate to take care of someone, Meg is never in the running.
If I'm going to do that - get a child replacement, then I want be creative. I saw a program, The Natural History of the Chicken and there's a woman who owns a chicken named Cotton and she takes care of it like a child. Cotton has a car seat, eats McDonald's hamburgers, goes swimming in the pool and gets his feathers blow dried. That's at least eccentric and interesting. A little, disturbing but that makes it exciting.
I took care of Joel's hermit crab, Smitty, one summer. I killed him. I did, however, think about getting him a new shell with a jolly roger painted on it. That's almost "dressing the dog." Maybe if I had gotten it, he wouldn't have died.
We went to my friends house yesterday for the 4th. He grilled out and we laughed. He was looking at a catalog of RV's. I told him that in addition to his "old man RV" he should get a chihuahua, name him Boss and put a little sheriff's uniform on him. (My friend is a Lieutenant Sheriff) Boss could ride on the dashboard of his RV. In my mind, Boss really liked the outfit. I laughed really hard for a long time about this.
I don't know, maybe if I had a dog that would appreciate a wardrobe I would do it. But does "dressing the dog" send a message to the world? What message? "My kids are gone, I miss buying stuff for them, so this dog is the next best thing?" I feel like if I buy Meg a shirt, I've crossed some line. Like maybe I'm officially old.
When is Free Margarita Day?
Saturday, July 3, 2010
Really Cool Person Day - Troy Michael
This is my nephew, Troy. He is the middle child of my sister's 3 boys. They are more like brothers to me than nephews. Troy is truly one of the coolest people I know.
Troy has 2 doctorates (Dr. of Divinity, Dr. of Metaphysics), he is a Master Groomer, an amazing cook, costume maker, interior designer (you should see his beautiful house!) and he is the manager of
The Magnolia Room in Marietta, GA. He is happily married and has 2 dogs and I don't know how many cats. There's a turtle, too.
Troy has always been an amazingly creative person. He was always the one to introduce us to new music. He's listening to Bulgarian music now, I think. When my daughter was 4, she needed a costume because she was going to be in The Nutcracker at the Civic Center. My sister made her a red velvet dress. Troy, thinking she needed more, made her a matching cape with a real fur collar! He just made the bride's bouquet and boutineers for my son's wedding. At one point people were paniking because someone needed a boutineer and Troy went to a flower arrangement, snipped off a piece and created a beautiful boutineer right on the spot! That's how amazing he is!
But I want to tell you about The Magnolia Room that he manages and buys for. It is so cool! They have such a collection of interesting items. It's a pleasure just to go to the store. I can't possibly tell you about everything in it that I like, there's just so much! So, here's some pictures.
This next picture is super cool. These are chunks of salt in a salt bowl. Troy told me that they ionize the air and naturally kill odors.
And these pictures don't show the whole shop! So, you must go and see for yourself. I hope when you go you'll meet Troy. He is very interesting. He can talk to you about almost any subject and give you information that you never knew!!
When you go, be sure to go around lunch time and get a bite at Gabriel's it's adjacent to The Magnolia Room
They have great country cooking (meat, 2 vegetables, bread and 2 homemade cookies) , a deli (the chicken salad is terrific) and bakery. Be sure to leave room for dessert!
I love you, Troy! You are a VERY cool person!
Friday, July 2, 2010
Cars, Loans, Pharoahs & New Shirts
I am back from my absence. I had set myself a little goal to post something everyday. At least through the summer, but I fell short. I apologize to all my many faithful readers (haha, are there any?) and my 2 amazing followers! I had a good reason...I was car shopping. And while that is fun and exciting for some, it is a chore for me.
These sort of chores require me summon the logical, practical side of my person that I usually let sleep and rest undisciplined and lethargic. It's always unprepared for these tedious situations.
I did well, though, I went through the process basically by myself asking Steave the odd mechanical question every now and then. Steave and I operate on 2 opposing wavelengths, opposite hemispheres, opposing teams, however you want to put it - it's difficult for us to work on a common decision like this. He is the ulitmate king of logic and practicality and I am the queen of intuition and feeling. So, it's hard for us to agree. We did agree, however, that I had better handle this decision since I would be the one driving the car the most. He would let me know if he saw my divining rod leading me to a financial cliff.
When I have to accomplish this sort of chore, I am usually embarrassed. The reason is that I am asked practical questions like: "How much money do you make?" "What kind of engine do you have?" And I don't keep that kind of information in my head. Go ahead and laugh. If they asked me, "What does the car smell like?" or "How many kids does the bank teller have?" I can answer that!
But I slapped the groggy practical side of myself awake and bravely entered the car showroom and the office of the loan officer. I kept myself in check. I didn't ask the car salesman what part of Africa he was from. I strained really, really hard to actually pay attention to the meanings of the words he spoke and not just drift away on the beautiful lyrical sound of them. I did not ask the loan officer about his family heritage even though he had caramel skin, blue eyes and the head shape of an Egyptian pharoah. I gritted my teeth and actually read what I was signing. To quote Pride & Prejudice, "that's a small sort of accomplishment, I suppose."
I did it. I got a loan. I bought a car, though it's not actually mine, it belongs to the Pharoah. (He said it belongs to "us" meaning him and the bank until I pay it off.) It was not fun. I did not learn anything interesting except.... one of the bank tellers does hair at night, one of the car salesman just started 3 months ago and needs more shirts and the loan officer has a german shepherd that's not mean, just vicious looking. Don't ask me anything technical about my new car. It's pretty, rides smooth, smells good and I like it.
I did well, though, I went through the process basically by myself asking Steave the odd mechanical question every now and then. Steave and I operate on 2 opposing wavelengths, opposite hemispheres, opposing teams, however you want to put it - it's difficult for us to work on a common decision like this. He is the ulitmate king of logic and practicality and I am the queen of intuition and feeling. So, it's hard for us to agree. We did agree, however, that I had better handle this decision since I would be the one driving the car the most. He would let me know if he saw my divining rod leading me to a financial cliff.
When I have to accomplish this sort of chore, I am usually embarrassed. The reason is that I am asked practical questions like: "How much money do you make?" "What kind of engine do you have?" And I don't keep that kind of information in my head. Go ahead and laugh. If they asked me, "What does the car smell like?" or "How many kids does the bank teller have?" I can answer that!
But I slapped the groggy practical side of myself awake and bravely entered the car showroom and the office of the loan officer. I kept myself in check. I didn't ask the car salesman what part of Africa he was from. I strained really, really hard to actually pay attention to the meanings of the words he spoke and not just drift away on the beautiful lyrical sound of them. I did not ask the loan officer about his family heritage even though he had caramel skin, blue eyes and the head shape of an Egyptian pharoah. I gritted my teeth and actually read what I was signing. To quote Pride & Prejudice, "that's a small sort of accomplishment, I suppose."
I did it. I got a loan. I bought a car, though it's not actually mine, it belongs to the Pharoah. (He said it belongs to "us" meaning him and the bank until I pay it off.) It was not fun. I did not learn anything interesting except.... one of the bank tellers does hair at night, one of the car salesman just started 3 months ago and needs more shirts and the loan officer has a german shepherd that's not mean, just vicious looking. Don't ask me anything technical about my new car. It's pretty, rides smooth, smells good and I like it.
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