No More Little Ones

When he wakes up tomorrow, he will be six years old.

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The Science Behind Annoyance

I am my own worst enemy. I decided to let the dog out without a leash and he ran away. I bent down to pick something up with a jar of bleu cheese dressing in my hand. It spilled all over the floor. I'm easily annoyed. Annoyed with relatives who go around and around a holiday menu as if it were a space mission. "Can I have a volunteer to pick up the moon rock?" "Only if you really want to pick up the moon rock." "Maybe the other astronaut would rather pick up the moon rock." "Email me back about that moon rock." Oh for goodness sake! The boys burp. And sing (constantly). And they need to show me every confounded Pokemon card and high jump off of the couch. They think I need to watch them feed the fish, hit play on the video game and make a sandwich out of crackers and cheese. It's annoying. I thought this was a matter of my patience running thin or perhaps a heightened stress level. We are entering the holiday season, after all. Then I stumbled upon an amusing article about the science of annoyance. It turns out that "Americans are annoying to the world because we are individualists who think we can and should control our world." Read more: http://www.businessinsider.com/annoying-the-science-of-what-bugs-us-2011-5?op=1#ixzz2CmdX1J5c There's a (small) country where annoyance is categorized and ultimately, frowned upon... In that distant culture, people use nuanced vocabulary to describe away the annoyance we let rip in words and action For the Ifaluks "One person's anger (song) entails another's fear (metagu); someone's experiencing grief and frustration creates compassion/love/sadness (fago) in others." Their words express their feelings and have a rich vocabulary to express a variety of states of annoyance. tipmochmoch - annoyance that comes with feeling ill lingeringer - annoyance that builds from a series of minor but unwanted events nguch - annoyance with relatives who do the Ifaluk equivalent of failing to show up for a holiday dinner tang - the frustration that occurs "in the face of personal misfortunes and slights which one is helpless to redress" (Lutz) song - justifiable anger (the authors translate this as "You've done something that pisses me off. I know it, and you know it. But because expressing that annoyance would be inappropriate, I'll let it go, and so will you." In the end, there is a societal mandate to not get pissy with others. To do so is to risk ostracization. God Bless the USA.

Speed

The nearest mall is located about an hour away by car. That's only one of the reasons we don't go there very often. I needed to go the Apple Store at the mall to have the folks at The Genius Bar look at my son's Ipod. As "online savvy" as I think I am, I didn't read up about making an appointment via the internet first. The store was very busy when I got there (I'm grateful to the associate who helped me appointment notwithstanding). Walking through the mall, standing in the Apple Store, and driving in the congested business district all made me feel like an alien on a distant planet. I didn't recognize anything or anyone. Since my last visit there (two or three years ago?), my favorite bookstore had been demolished, the avenue was widened to eight lanes, most of the stores had turned over, fashions had changed, prices had risen, etc. Change. The house we lived in just last year has a new tenant. We peeked inside this weekend to see that the bathroom had been repainted. The entire second floor had been remodeled. My favorite (enormous) ancient tree, which grew by the house's back steps, was damaged by Hurricane Sandy. A friend, a tree climber,finished taking it down this weekend. We examined the giant stump, and the rings that tell the tale of growth. There were rings wider than his thumb, showing that the tree had grown very rapidly over the last thirty years. My children are growing quickly also. This morning I heard an interview with Formula 1 Driver Mario Andretti. He spoke about how blurry things look outside the window when he drives 190+ mph. He keeps his eyes fixed on the track and his senses in tune with the vehicle. Perhaps this is what I need to do to better manage the pace of change all around me. I can't possibly take it all in. Eyes on the track. Speeding ahead.

I traveled to Buffalo this morning to take the Unified Court's Interpreting Exam. I listened to the Jesse & Joy CD on the way, and I imagined "Aquí Voy" to be the day's theme song. AQUI VOY, ALGO INSEGURA PERO VOY HACIENDO MALABARES PA´ PAGAR LA RENTA DE HOY QUE VENGA MAS YO AGUANTO ESO Y MAS PERDIDA, AFINADA AUNQUE DESUBICADA YO LLEGO HASTA EL FINAL It's a song about confidence, "I'll reach the end, even if I'm lost, tired, hungry, and disoriented." I got lost. By the end of the day I was completely exhausted, disoriented and hungry. I was not well prepared for the exam, and I'm disappointed in myself. I did enjoy meeting the regional director of court interpreters. She described the severe shortage of bilingual staff, and her experience as the interpreter for the defendant known around her as "The Walmart Murderer." She told me that she cried all the way back to Buffalo, after telling the victim's family, in English, in first person, the horrible things he confessed to. If I don't pass I can take the exam again after a year. It's out of my hands now.

On Teaching High School

I've amused myself lately with the creation of a list of reasons why working as a college professor is soooo much better than teaching high school.

I've been serving as a long term sub for a local high school teacher for seven weeks now. Tomorrow is my last day and as fun as this experience was, I am so ready to go.

Why teaching college is better...
1. If I don't want to start working before 8 a.m.(or noon), I don't have to.

2. No messes. No paper balls, broken pencils, bloody elbows to clean up.

3. Teenage girls in tears. In 20 years of teaching college nobody has ever cried in my class. Theyve been scared and nervous, sure. Here in the high school home room, however, I see girls cry every day. And I have no idea what to do with them!

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What Makes Us Smile

I've seen the "amused smile, " when someone appreciates a witty statement or a joke.

There's the kind of smile I see when people watch puppies or babies or children. It's a warm, fuzzy thing.

There's no expression that compares to the "I feel loved smile."

It's not like "thank you for the award or praise." This smile, rather, is quite rare.

I recognized it today on the face of a woman who was driving and talking on her cell phone. I wondered who she might be talking to.

I felt it when my Grandma said, I love you" as I was leaving the nursing home on Saturday morning.

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The End

The end of the season and my last day of work at The Amusement Park feels something like the end of a long, entertaining film.

I'm tired and ready to move on, yet I so enjoyed the scenery, the characters, and the story line that I'm also feeling a little bit sad that there's no more.

I dare say a sequel would never be as good. How could anyone fill the roles of The International Students, my sweet teenage coworker friends, and the fantastic cooks and managers?

It was a warm, sunny summer, a drought by most standards. The park was busy and guests were happy.

People were generous with tips. My own family enjoyed the fringe benefits of discounts and leftover bacon.

I have next weekend free. And the weekend after that. I'm weirded out, " like  a person who is walking out of a dark theater into the sun.

Time to adjust. Time for "the end."

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