Nostalgia, Wanting More, and Peanut Butter and Jelly Friends

I just read the blog of a friend who was one of my girls the year I was an RA. She is amazing and I wish she lived next door to me. She wrote about moving into a new house and it inspired me as only Ashley can to be very much the Jessica I am in my own life. Tonight what this looks like is a pile of laundry on the couch, wine, The Office, open windows and uncommon breezes, and a newly rearranged living room.

I do this sometimes...rearrange everything. Jenna thinks it's done too often. But I like rearranging. It enlivens the room. And tonight I remembered this old set up and thought back to the first year in Stillwater. I think the furniture is happiest in this set up....it's what it came to when I first moved here. This year I got into a mood at the end of the school year and rearranged everything in my classroom. One fell swoop. It had to be done. Same thing.

When I first lived here, I lived very frugally and was happily house poor. I had a little budget and a little apartment in a little town with cute little students and actually a rather large classroom. It was giant but had 2 or 3 outlets at the front of the room. No windows though, so sometimes I would literally teach at the top of the hill overlooking the city and the river. It was picturesque, and like a movie. I even had a short little commute...5 minutes driving right down the north hill, and there I was at school. It was a nice beginning to a new place. I borrowed furniture and couldn't afford the Internet and had a very old television that was uninspiring and always unfamiliar and in the end just kind of gross. Can a television be gross? This one was.




The nostalgia of that is, of course, what lots of people feel when they think back to the fact that when they first became grown ups they really did have very little and still felt very happy and accomplished about everything. My home became a haven and a retreat. Tonight I like that the simplicity of beginnings is still felt here, even though I can afford the Internet and eventually replaced every day items with things that weren't automatically as old as I was.


This year, during that first week of time away from kids and D.C. and the decisions teachers make, I stayed very busy. I discovered this was very good. I'm still looking forward to the deep stillness of July, but this summer I am also going to hone my craft. Teaching is hard. I want to do it better. I finally have a sense of what Miss Christians really means in the classroom and I want to be even more in this role when it is September again and we are back to what we do.

Here's what is cool. I've seen good teaching and I think it happens when questions make kids feel like they are being heard and challenged and realigned with each new idea. They trust their teacher and they are active participants in something swirling above them, even if they are only looking at you and looking enigmatic. Questions are exciting! Even the very shy students can let you know they are there with you. You can tell. This is not a summer where I will completely forget about teaching. I've done that before for rehabilitation and survival. But this year it's not possible because teaching has officially and truly gotten into my bones.

I want more.

Today with friends I talked about teaching, and I saw again that I still really, really care. I have been dry and bitter and cynical, and yet, even while I'm in obvious repair, I still care. It is giant evidence of my very seasonal job and the ups and downs of being with (and a part of) fallen humanity. Cue dramatic music. Or something. Today though I certainly did not teach children about historical happenings.

INSTEAD: I read books about American culture. I read that book on the porch until it was done. (Bliss.) I had a very long and winding talk with Briana on the phone. I did the aforementioned rearranging of the living room. I drank 4 cups of coffee. (Gross.) I met with friends and talked about international missions and raising support for my friend's new adventure teaching in Hungary. I went to the park and held my friend's 6 month old baby. (Bliss again.) I talked about the government shutting down with the guy who fixes my car. The last time I was there I learned about his former career in aerospace engineering. (Interesting people are everywhere.) My adventure in listening more and shutting up faster has led to quality discoveries in unexpected places. Case in point at 2:00 pm today.

The very nicest thing that happened in this week? I went to Middleton, Wisconsin, on a whim really, to see Molly and John.

Molly and John. How do you describe them? Once John gave Molly a card that talked about how they fit together like peanut butter and jelly. This feels appropriate since they complement each other very well but are very different people. I loved my time with them. They are some of the people I am most comfortable with in the entire world. When I go to their house I laugh really hard, I sleep well, I figure things out. They're good medicine. And, I even ate peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with them when I was there. Maybe that reference was subliminal. It still works.

Middleton, WI residents!

Two weeks ago, Molly and John moved into a cute little house in a town right outside of Madison. They were the Sioux Falls to Madison reference from another earlier post when I mentioned friends in transition. It was fun to see them in a new place and help them get settled there. We watched a movie on the floor with a bunch of blankets because they don't have a couch again. I talked about the state capital, medicine, and advice about dating with John and dredged up old memories from high school with Molly that only she can remember with me. If we got crabby we said it. "I'm crabby right now." Nothing new. That's something you encounter when you've been friends since you were 5. We read and walked through new neighborhoods and ate homemade pizza and went out for gelato. We reveled in breakfast (the best meal with a best friend) and talked about the future and the past and what is happening right now in front of us too.

The Reynens

Pre-walk

Gelato!

Little Orphan Annie

Best friends!  (Accidentally dressed alike)

When I left, I had four hours of driving to think about how important and timely it was for that trip to Madison to happen in the first place.  It felt perfectly timed, like one of those things that happens in your life that you will always, always remember.  I think part of it was because this trip really was an impromptu plan, and I just got into the car and drove there because it was suggested to me and I wanted to.  The way people talk about making plans suddenly.

But most of all it was because it was Molly and John are Molly and John.

I've been reading the book that is also the blog I love called Stuff White People Like.  Have you read it?  I used to have less of a sense of humor about these things, but now I think it is hilarious all around.  Evidence that you change in your 20s.  Big time.  A better sense of humor is always welcome.  'Stuff White People Like' rings true.  You should check it out.