I've been wondering what to write about, which suddenly put pressure on the whole process, which paralyzed me, so I just avoided the whole process and read and read interesting blogs. Then I thought about what a hypocrite I was, thinking there was nothing really to write about, because when I taught English my students would say "I dunno what to write about!" everyday and I would turn around and tell them that there was always something to write about. . . I would list ideas on the board, yell them out loud, and even suggest, "Tell me how lame I am for making you write nonstop for 10 minutes everyday."
There are three rules for freewriting: 1. write nonstop; don't let your pen stop moving 2. don't edit yourself; don't go back and worry about punctuation, etc. 3. write about whatever you want. I should have included an inspirational #4 like "always believe in yourself" or "stay in school," but I didn't teach long enough to really get down a system. Reading the journals was always interesting, as you can imagine, but a little disappointing. I thought I would be reading stuff out of Dangerous MInds (starring stage and screen gem Michelle Pheiffer) which was actually required reading in one of my teaching classes at the BYU, can you imagine? It came in handy when dealing with gang warfare and drug dealing which is so prevalent in Spanish Fork, UT. Instead I read about boring stuff they thought I wanted to read, like impromptu critiques about what we were reading (boring), or what they might do after school (boring).
But there WAS this one journal (isn't there always one shining teaching moment, forever frozen in every teacher's career?) written by a seventh grader, which is classic. This kid wrote "Read THIS Mrs. Clark! Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, IN 'YO FACE!!! Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah blah blah. . . " (you get the idea). Apparently he hated me, so at least he was thinking, and hated writing, so at least he was honest. This journal pleased me to no end. I wrote "Thanks for writing the entire time! Great job!" and gave him full credit. Of course I did.
There's always something to write about: like how I'm doing "boot-camp: sleep through the night" for baby this weekend, how I'm painting and redecorating some rooms--I keep changing my mind, (can't make a decision), how I'm so excited for my tv show's to start (A.Development, Lost, Alias), the book I'm reading, the painting I can't seem to finish, things that annoy me to no end that I can't ignore, people who annoy me who I have imaginary conversations with when I vacuum, fun things I want to do like go to dinner with interesting people, topics I would talk about on my radio show, how I don't have a radio show, but should, first sentences to short stories that need to be written, desserts I like, in order, blah, blah, blah, blah. . .
Friday, September 16, 2005
Monday, September 05, 2005
Fireflies and Runzas
About this time of year I get homesick for Nebraska. I grew up there. It was always about this time of year that my mother, raised in Midvale and Orem, UT would heave out an audible sigh and say it was just about time the leaves would be changing on the mountains and how beautiful it was and how she was missing it and--now she wouldn't SAY this next part, but I just KNEW she was thinking it--how awful it was to be in this flat, boring, hot, humid state. I'll give her flat, hot, and humid, but as much as I love Utah, there are many reasons I love Nebraska, and always will:
Nebraskans are all very proud to be from Nebraska. If you ask a Nebraskan where they're from, they say it loudly and proudly--no cowardess or apology, or explanation of how they were born somewhere else and just live in Nebraska for the time being. Utahans are famous for this: "Yeah, I'm originally from California, but I moved here when I was 4." Guess what? You're 30, You're from Utah now. My husband, who has lived in Utah since he was a young boy, gets caught doing this all the time. When asked where he lives, where he's from, etc he says something like, "I was born in Bozeman," or "I've lived all over," or "I've lived mostly here, but also in Finland and England for a few years." Not a Nebraskan. Like my famous brother James (stop skimming), he even wore his Nebraska t-shirt to shows and on his album. Of course he did.
Nebraskans are generally easy-going. They don't over-plan an event or worry about what their neighbors think. They don't buy huge houses they can't afford or buy huge RV's. They hang out. They don't make a big production out of everything. They go for walks, go to clubs and bars to listen to cool music. There's a great music scene in Nebraska. They love to talk and claim ownership of everyone who has ever lived in Nebraska. They have Nebraska reunions (seriously, what other state does that in Utah?!)--that's how my sister met up with her now husband.
Nebraskans dress a certain way. Topher says he can spot it, even though he's only been there a few times, but he has a talent for such things. There are many stereotypes, here are my favorites: "the mom": short, sporty hair-cut, sweatshirt with a rolled turtleneck under it, gold chain dangling out, short pleated shorts, tennis shoes with socks to match the color of the sweatshirt. Classic. These women are known to wear sleeveless dress shirts and lots of gold jewelry. "the fan": you'll usually spot these types in airports and while on vacation. They wear head to toe Nebraska "Big Red" football crap--t-shirts with the hat with the blazer with the backpack. They have the vision, and Tom Osborne is their guide. "the pseudo-intellectual": I'm not talking about the sorority girls or frat boys, they have their own category, but I'm talking about the fashion-forwards. The sit-in-smokey-coffe-houses-and-talk-about-politics-and-poetry-and-music crowd. My sister, Pandy, was their leader for a while and definitely the best dressed of all time. I always wanted to be in that fashion category, but always seem to miss it by a gap jean or Target knock-off jacket. You can't mass-market a look, Lisa! I'll never learn.
Nebraska is home of "the Runza," fireflies, and Big Red football. These are a few of my favorite things. A "Runza" is a delightful pocket of meat and seasonings and cheese rolled up in a pillow of soft home-made bread. It is the ultimate hotpocket. I desperately craved them during all my pregnancies, but everyone thought I was "kidding" when I asked them to ship them, frozen, to me. As if I would kid about something that important. In college my roommate Wendy, a fellow Nebraskan, and I tried to make them. Imagine a homesick freshman eating crackery breaded lumps of bland ground beef. Is there a more pathetic image? and fireflies--is there another bug out there that you are really excited to catch? Have you ever smeared on on the sidewalk to make your name in fluorescent splendor? Could there be anything more magical? And I don't even like football, or organized sports, really, but it's like a religion in Nebraska, and everyone's routing for the same team (no blue versus red--you know what I'm talking about)--everyone in the entire state wears red on game days whether they go to the game or not, whether they like football or not. I like that idea of unifying a state like that.
Sigh (audible), I miss Nebraska at this time of the year with the huge, gorgeous trees changing colors, canopying over the street off 27th and Park Avenue. I miss going downtown to hear a friend's band in a small venue--music deafeningly loud, with the smell of cigarette smoke and beer all around as I sip my coke. I miss the smell of heavy air and the sound of cicadas as I talk to friends on my wide, stone, wrap-around porch. I've lived in Utah for 12 years now, but, you guys, I totally grew up in Nebraska.
Nebraskans are all very proud to be from Nebraska. If you ask a Nebraskan where they're from, they say it loudly and proudly--no cowardess or apology, or explanation of how they were born somewhere else and just live in Nebraska for the time being. Utahans are famous for this: "Yeah, I'm originally from California, but I moved here when I was 4." Guess what? You're 30, You're from Utah now. My husband, who has lived in Utah since he was a young boy, gets caught doing this all the time. When asked where he lives, where he's from, etc he says something like, "I was born in Bozeman," or "I've lived all over," or "I've lived mostly here, but also in Finland and England for a few years." Not a Nebraskan. Like my famous brother James (stop skimming), he even wore his Nebraska t-shirt to shows and on his album. Of course he did.
Nebraskans are generally easy-going. They don't over-plan an event or worry about what their neighbors think. They don't buy huge houses they can't afford or buy huge RV's. They hang out. They don't make a big production out of everything. They go for walks, go to clubs and bars to listen to cool music. There's a great music scene in Nebraska. They love to talk and claim ownership of everyone who has ever lived in Nebraska. They have Nebraska reunions (seriously, what other state does that in Utah?!)--that's how my sister met up with her now husband.
Nebraskans dress a certain way. Topher says he can spot it, even though he's only been there a few times, but he has a talent for such things. There are many stereotypes, here are my favorites: "the mom": short, sporty hair-cut, sweatshirt with a rolled turtleneck under it, gold chain dangling out, short pleated shorts, tennis shoes with socks to match the color of the sweatshirt. Classic. These women are known to wear sleeveless dress shirts and lots of gold jewelry. "the fan": you'll usually spot these types in airports and while on vacation. They wear head to toe Nebraska "Big Red" football crap--t-shirts with the hat with the blazer with the backpack. They have the vision, and Tom Osborne is their guide. "the pseudo-intellectual": I'm not talking about the sorority girls or frat boys, they have their own category, but I'm talking about the fashion-forwards. The sit-in-smokey-coffe-houses-and-talk-about-politics-and-poetry-and-music crowd. My sister, Pandy, was their leader for a while and definitely the best dressed of all time. I always wanted to be in that fashion category, but always seem to miss it by a gap jean or Target knock-off jacket. You can't mass-market a look, Lisa! I'll never learn.
Nebraska is home of "the Runza," fireflies, and Big Red football. These are a few of my favorite things. A "Runza" is a delightful pocket of meat and seasonings and cheese rolled up in a pillow of soft home-made bread. It is the ultimate hotpocket. I desperately craved them during all my pregnancies, but everyone thought I was "kidding" when I asked them to ship them, frozen, to me. As if I would kid about something that important. In college my roommate Wendy, a fellow Nebraskan, and I tried to make them. Imagine a homesick freshman eating crackery breaded lumps of bland ground beef. Is there a more pathetic image? and fireflies--is there another bug out there that you are really excited to catch? Have you ever smeared on on the sidewalk to make your name in fluorescent splendor? Could there be anything more magical? And I don't even like football, or organized sports, really, but it's like a religion in Nebraska, and everyone's routing for the same team (no blue versus red--you know what I'm talking about)--everyone in the entire state wears red on game days whether they go to the game or not, whether they like football or not. I like that idea of unifying a state like that.
Sigh (audible), I miss Nebraska at this time of the year with the huge, gorgeous trees changing colors, canopying over the street off 27th and Park Avenue. I miss going downtown to hear a friend's band in a small venue--music deafeningly loud, with the smell of cigarette smoke and beer all around as I sip my coke. I miss the smell of heavy air and the sound of cicadas as I talk to friends on my wide, stone, wrap-around porch. I've lived in Utah for 12 years now, but, you guys, I totally grew up in Nebraska.
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