Sunday, September 30, 2007

Really hoping it doesn't get worse than this. . .

I'm off to the doctor's office before I even brush my teeth tomorrow!

Saturday, September 29, 2007

Poor Bellelly

. . . I guess there was a reason for putting the question mark behind 'On The Mend' in my last post. . .

Friday, September 28, 2007

On the mend?

Well. . . I seem to have had a run-in with a poisonous plant that I do not recall. That was the best answer the dermatologist could give me after she said, "My, my, at least some people wear sunscreen properly." "Umm, yes, maam, I know I'm pale, but could we give a little bit of attention to the raging rash that is eating my belly alive?" . . . Yes, this little condition, which is spreading even as we speak has had me in its grips since Sunday. I have little else to think about or talk about than my itchiness. . .

Saturday, September 15, 2007

The Beat Goes On. . .

This is the first weekend without plans that we've had in about a month and it feels pretty perfect. The way the after-rain light is leaning up against everything in our apartment, the temperature of my coffee, the fit of my new corduroy pants. . . Last weekend we ate yummy meals out and visited Airlie Gardens with my Dad and Colleen, and the weekend before that we (and my mom) got to see Sumanth's parents new house in downtown Geneva, Illinois. The weeks in between these weekends have been filled with the gut-wrenching chaos that is the start of classes, but I'm finding myself a little bit more prepared for it every time, (i.e., I have a bigger supply of band-aids, printer cartriges, paper towels, peanut butter and dance pants on hand than in previous semesters.)

Lately I've been touched by how quickly happiness can come to someone who is sad. On the first day of DREAMS classes, I saw one of my tiniest little students standing in the corner of our (unfortunately) unisex bathroom looking very troubled. When I asked him how he was doing, he said, 'Just terrible,' and proceeded to explain that in his guitar class he wasn't able to get even one chord right. About an hour later, in the middle of his multimedia art class, he was standing in the door frame of my office, one paint-splattered leg pointed to his left, exclaiming, 'I'm polka-dotted!'
I was so proud of him, I can't even tell you.

This Thursday I was getting ready to take some students to drum at a United Way benefit and we were without our lead drummer. We couldn't get in touch with him and everyone was getting nervous and practicing their routine by slapping their palms on their thighs. It was time to go and so we packed up the congos and caravaned out to the benefit without him. The entire drive over I kept picturing how pitiful the drummers would sound without their lead and how embarrassing this event was going to be. When we got there, not only was our drummer already there with his Gramma, he was looking for food. I heard him say to one of the kids, "I don't know if it's just something Miss Emily told me to get me out of the house, but she definitely said that there would be food." I think I need to relax more.