Ugh.

Sorry I haven't posted much lately. We just had to put Sebastian down, and I'm completely bummed. You just don't realize how much you love a dog, or cat, or whatever, until you're missing them and they are gone. I'm just very sad right now, so I'll write more later.

... and for you harmonica fans

This just made me giggle. Alot.

Being a guitar aficionado

I just love kick-ass guitar solos, so I decided to share this Gem with you guys. Woot!
And check out Ozzy's rhythm!
When you're done there, click here for more guitar kick-assery.

Update

First, let me begin by saying sorry for not posting or inviting you guys until today. I've been busy, and as usual, haven't had much to say. If I've left anyone out that you know of (like Brannon) send me his email or tell whoever it is to send me their email, and I'll invite them.
Anyway, let me fill you in on the story of why I had to go private.

It's Wednesday morning and I get an email from the president of our school. It is vague, and only says "Can you come up today so we can meet about an important sensitive matter." Hmmm. I spend about 15 minutes grading papers and wondering what on earth this could be about when I decide to call him. He just says "we need to meet as soon as possible," which is a giant red light to me, because no one EVER has good news when they tell you, "We need to discuss this in private." I wonder, "What have I done that might warrant such a meeting?"
So I go through the next 45 minutes of teaching Science before I get a break. I go down to ask my boss if I can leave early to go to the other campus to meet the president, and I explain to him about the mystery email. I go back to my room, and get on with the day.
About 15 minutes later my immediate boss comes to my room and tells me that all he could find out was that I have "some sensitive matter on the internet," and that our campus president is not happy because the president of the entire corporation found whatever the sensitive stuff was, and is not happy about it.
Shit.
Immediately the paranoia sets in. I am racking my brain to figure out what it could be, because I can't for the life of me figure out where my name in relation to my current life might possibly come across the computer screen to the eyes of the head honcho.
Now, there are maybe a half dozen skeletons in my closet that I'd sooner no person I work with ever find out, and as unlikely as it was, those few of the worst started to seem likely candidates for what was happening now.
Without getting into the details, suffice it to say that certain parts of my private history would absolutely shock most people, and would certainly be hard to explain. I began to feel literally sick to my stomch with worry.
On the other hand, everyone has skeletons in the closet that they would rather pretend never existed, and I couldn't imagine how any of mine could be so bad as to negate the positive things I accomplish at work every day.
So I wander through the rest of the school day like a zombie, doing my best to teach while the phantoms in my head get larger and larger, until I am seriously wondering if I am about to get fired.
Lunch rolls around, and as I am heading back to my class, my boss catches me again, and asks if I've come up with anything yet, and all I tell him is that there are maybe half a dozen things in my past I'd be worried about, but I can't imagine how any of them pertain to my job.
Then he says, "Do you keep a blog? Because apparently they found it while doing a web search, and they aren't happy about how critical you are."
Sudden relief flows over me. All of this is about the blog post I wrote when I was venting about them cancelling my professional development day. And while I could still be in some trouble, I at least was prepared to explain. In fact, despite what my immediate boss was saying, I would have been very surprised if the president of our school, or the president of the corporation, didn't at least on some level agree with what I was saying in that post.
So I re-read my post before going for my meeting, just to make sure it wasn't too critical (it wasn't) and then I headed up to my meeting with him. The short version of the events afterward were that
1. I should use better judgement in posting a personal blog with critical opinions of my employment situation on it, and
2. I was pretty much right on track as far as my actions were concerned in relation to improving my career.

The prez had printed out the entirety of my blog, "just to make sure there was nothing so bad as to cause us legal problems," and aside from suggesting I make it private, he was very encouraging about expanding my career opportunities. He did say that the two heads of school (we have a campus headmaster, my immediate boss, and a school-wide headmaster, who is in charge of all academics) were probably not going to be too happy about what I had to say, but also that there are many places where my drive and hard work would eventually pay off. He even gave me the emails of 2 other school presidents, one in Phoenix and one in Houston, and suggested I start plying them for job opportunities. The corporation is buying about 15 schools this year, and will continue to buy schools into the near future, and I should start agressively pursuing opportunities all around the corportation now, so that when I finish my doctorate, I will have connections beyond just here where I live.
So. Here I am. I doubt that any real opportunity to move into administration here at my school is going to present itself in the next few years, but I am pleased (and incredibly relieved) that things went so well with my meeting.
I went from worring about being fired to being told that I was an asset who has good things for his future, and I was even provided personal recommendations to two other school presidents. All in all, not bad.

Yikes!

It's late and all I'm going to say now is that I'll give you all the full story later about why I had to make my blog private. G'night.

It comes and goes

So last night I read over my blog. I haven't done this for some time, and it was nice. I like having a record to remind me of the life I've lived. That being said, I realized that lately I haven't really had much to say, and I'm not sure why. I think part of it is that most of my thoughts have been consumed by the mundane; that I haven't thought much of interest lately. But another part of me feels like that is a cop-out. So I'm going to try to be more diligent in writing. In one of my previous posts I wrote about the joy writing brought me when I was younger, and I know that writing begets more writing. It's like going to the gym; you just have to make yourself do it until you want to do it. So... here I go again.
I started my doctoral program this week. It is an online university, Walden, which at first cracked me up because Walden is the name of the totally mediocre university in the Doonesbury comic, but who am I to look a free degree in the mouth? Actually I have been surprised at how thorough the online classroom is, and I am looking forward to it. I am totally convinced that I will be an excellent administrator, if for no other reason than that I will be a leader. That is what is lacking in my school. For example, the curriculum professional development day I spent two months working on was cancelled by our headmaster at the last minute, and he didn't even have the courtesy to offer me an explanation. Hell, he didn't even tell me; he left that to my immediate boss, 3 days before I was to present. Now, I'm not really surprised, and not really even pissed off anymore. What I am is enlightened; for I finally see that it is more often the norm in the field of private education for the administrative leadership to be of the type running my school; aloof, evasive, and separate. My bosses are not bad people, but they certainly don't lead their staff towards better practices. I am not being bitter. It is simply the truth. through the last two years I have done everything I can to move our school in the direction that our parent corporation wants to go, and at every step the real work I've done has been either ignored, credited to someone else, or minimized by my boss, while at the same time he's telling me ""yes, yes... it's a great job, etc."
What can I do though? The short answer is nothing. I can keep making myself available, and I can keep doing things set before me without worrying about their outcome. For example, I've been appointed the leader for our campus to get together a team to do a video-conferencing collaboration with a school in Mexico; cool, I can handle that. Of course, when I've sent numerous emails to my boss asking for information like the dates, time allotted, etc. he has done the same thing he always does, which is ignore me; no response from him whatsoever. So I'll just keep plugging along and hope he doesn't cancel things again at the last minute. My main hope is that some of the higher-ups see what I am doing (I know they do) and that sooner or later they will present me with an opportunity to work where I can have some real authority. Worst-case scenario, I work in 4th grade for 3 more years, finish my free doctorate, and get employed by someone who appreciates my ability to lead.
OK, OK... I'm hopping off my high-horse now. I realized after proofing this post that I sound kind of whiny and conceited, but the truth is I will be much better at being an administrative leader than my own administrators because as a teacher I know that the key to success for a whole school is strong and involved administrative support. And we just don't get very much of that at my school.

Anyway, aside from the job/school stuff, all else is well. Nick's doing fine, and he's starting to make some friends, and some girl has a crush on him, which has improved his spirits greatly. He asked me if he could take her on a date, to which I replied "Hell no!" Well, I didn't exactly put it that way, but I did say if he wanted to go out with a group of friends, I would unobtrusively chaperon, but a one-on-one date was not going to happen just yet. He's going to get back to me on that.
Otherwise, it's been mostly work, swim practice, and TV. Since we finished with Lost, we've been kind of floundering around looking for another good show to watch. Among our current playlist are the Showtime shows Weeds and Californication. These are great shows, but not for when kids are around. With Nick we watch Reaper, The Office, and Aliens in America.
Oh, and books... Well, I'll post on books later; we had our school bookfair last week, and as usual, I got all the books on my wishlist. Lots of goodies!

Memoir, or a belated thank-you to my big brother

So I am teaching my students about writing memoirs, and I decided to write one myself while they are writing theirs. Here it is:

When I was in second grade, my brother gave me a special watch for Christmas. It was special because he had moved away the year before to go live with my dad in Texas, and I really missed him.
The watch was so great because it had pictures from my favorite movie, Starwars, on the front, and it was digital, which at the time was new and cool. My brother really knew what I liked, and I was happy he remembered so much about me!
When we returned to school a few weeks later, I wore my watch proudly. I wanted to show my teacher and my friends what a great gift I had gotten from my brother.
That morning at school I showed off my watch to everyone I knew. They all agreed it was a great gift, and I felt special that my brother had picked it out just for me.
As the school day wore on, I pretty much forgot about my watch. In fact, I was an absent-minded boy, and my parents were always nagging me about lost mittens or boots or books. It No matter how many times I got in trouble for losing things, I just couldn't seem to help myself. Well, on this day I just happened to learn a painful lesson about responsibility.
I didn't realize it until I was on the bus on my way home, but when the bus driver asked if he could see my watch, I realized I was no longer wearing it!
Now, I had lost things before. A lot of things. My toys, my clothes, my lunch box... I had lost these things, many times, and though I felt bad about my parents yelling at me about them, I never really felt like it was a big deal. It just didn't matter that much to me.
But this time was different. In my family it was a rule that we write thank-you letters for all the gifts we received, and I had not yet written to my brother. As I sat there on the bus, I began to cry, and not just a little. I cried a lot. I'm not sure if it was because I was getting older, or if it was because I was afraid I'd have to tell the truth, but for the first time in my life I felt horrible about losing something. I didn't realize it then, but what I was feeling was remorse. Remorse is a complicated feeling, like guilt and regret and embarrassment all rolled into one. It sat there in the pit of my stomach making me feel sick all the way home.
When I got home my mom could tell there was something wrong. I wasn't crying anymore, but my eyes were still red and puffy and it was easy to see that I was not ok.
When she asked me what was wrong, I broke down again and started crying as I told her about the watch. Though I could tell by the look on her face that she was annoyed that I had lost yet another thing, she just listened patiently as I wailed on about what a terrible and ungrateful little brother I was and how I didn't deserve to have such a caring older brother.
My mom didn't disagree with me as I sat there verbally beating myself up. When I finally ran out of words she just looked at me and said, "I think you had better write that thank-you letter to your brother."
I knew she was right. I knew that I had to write the letter, and I had to do it soon, before I stopped feeling so awful.
You see, it is a truth that the adults we become are shaped by the choices we make, and I knew then that the choice before me was a huge one.
On the one hand, I could fulfill my duty by writing my brother a letter, saying all the usual things but leaving out everything I was currently thinking and feeling. I was old enough even then to know I wouldn't keep feeling this way forever.
On the other hand, if I didn't tell him about losing the watch then I knew I was not only being a coward, I was also being dishonest. I was learning a lesson about what grown-ups call integrity. I faced a choice about accepting responsibilty for who I was, the bad parts and all, or hiding myself safely away, telling myself that if my brother never knew, then I could just act like it never, ever happened.
I decided to write the truth. Even though I was afraid of hurting his feelings... afraid of what he would think of me. Afraid it might kill kill me to say out-loud the secret feelings inside me.
Today I doubt my brother even remembers the watch, or my letter. But I remember. It was my first decision in a long line of decisions about what kind of person I wanted to become, and each choice since then continues to mold me.

... and addiction rears its ugly head

OK, don't worry. I'm not drinking or doing dope. Those things hold no interest for me. It's graphic novels. I am now hopelessly hooked on graphic novels, and, worse, I think I've passed this malady on to my son.
You see, he had to do a project for school on some aspect of Shakespeare's life and times, and his area was the Bubonic Plague. So instead of just writing a regular report like a normal kid would, he decides he wan't to make a comic out of it... and THEN he makes the mistake of asking ME for help. So what do I do? Well, I spend hours online looking for a free comic creator, and finally I came across this site. It was here that Nick came up with his final product, which earned him the praise of his teacher. In fact, she liked it so much she was showing it to all the other teachers and is quite smitten with Nick at the moment. Read the thing here, here, and here.
Anyway, contaminating Nick with my current obsession isn't the only thing I have to worry about. I just can't help but go to the book store every week or so to get a new book. Graphic novels, literary ones, are in their boom stage at the moment, and it's like being part of a really monumental, culturally revolutionary movement before it really catches on. I know there have been graphic novels out there for decades now, but I never was much a fan of superhero stories. I like literature and fantasy primarily, and there is just such a wealth of great stuff out there.
For example, I just finished reading Laika, a graphic novelization of the story of the dog that the Soviets put into space on the Sputnik II. This is the first book to make my cry in quite awhile. It's historical fiction of the least-fictional kind, and it is really amazing.
Then there was Fun Home. This story is about growing up w/ a closeted gay English teacher father, and it is really great tragedy.
And of course, another current favorite is Blankets, a high school coming-of-age story about a kid w/ religiously nutty parents.
Hmmm... what else? Oh! True Porn 2 is an awesome book of, well, porn... ok, not exactly porn, but autobiographical sex stories by current graphic novelists which are so odd they have to be true.
And I shouldn't forget about The Rabbi's Cat, the story of a cat who for a brief time is given the power of speech, and is constantly challenging his owner's religious convictions. Set in Algeria in the 1930's, a time of rising anti-semitism, it is an enthralling read (and to be honest, one hell of an accurate portrayal of your typical cat!)
OK, I could literally go one for dozens more books, but my other addiction, Lost, is calling, since Nick just finished his homework.

Mo Money... I wish.

I've been a little stressed out lately, what with being a newly full-time parent. Nick's had some problems with some school bullies, and he is wanting to see a therapist (this is a good thing, but still stressful.) We're stuck playing a waiting game as far as getting him health insurance, and in the mean time we're paying out of pocket for his visits. We're by no means in dire straights, but we ARE more strapped than usual, and the radiator just happened to go out in our van, which was $900 worth of unforseen expenditure. Unpleasant, but not a huge problem. We just had to wait 9 days until payday to get the work done, so I've been carting Nick to school and myself to work on the motorcycle. Fortunately it is no longer in the triple digits, and the bike has been fairly nice.
Well, payday rolls around and SURPRISE the IRS seized most of my last check for back taxes. I was not informed about this until I saw the small paycheck deposit in my account. Apparently my employer has had the paperwork for a few months, but didn't tell me, and then they had an impending deadline so they took all but 300 dollars of my check. Ouch. Fortunately, I was able to take an advance on my Science Club pay to pay for the van repairs, but that means smaller checks for the next several months.
Anyhow, as I said, we're not about to get evicted or anything, but it is a bit stressful spending all this extra money. I am still paying Nick's mom $400 a month in support to pay off back support I owe her, and once that is caught up in December things will be a little easier, but the real issue is not having Nick insured. Dr. and therapist appointments are going to cost approx. $600 a month from now until we get him on Erin's plan, and we can't do that until January unless the AG in Texas writes new orders saying we HAVE to insure him. As soon as we can get that, we'll be able to have the insurance pay for N's appointments and meds.
So anyway, stress galore, and I was in need of some relief. It's a known fact (known to Erin and I anyway) that I go kind of nuts unless I get some good quality outside time every six months or so, and until this weekend, I hadn't been fishing since last summer. So we packed up the van and made the 4 hr. drive to the Sierras this weekend for a last effort to catch some fish before it freezes for the winter.
All said and done we saw beautiful Autumn colors, I caught a few fish, and I remembered how totally awesome Fall in the mountains is. It was a rejuvenating trip, and just what I needed.
Now I'm half way through the week and feeling pretty good.
Oh, I almost forgot the good news. I applied for a doctoral program a few weeks ago, and I got my acceptance notice today. WOOHOO!
I'm too excited to worry about the fact that in addition to my regular job of teaching 7 hours a day and the demands of going back to school, I still have:

1. Three days of after-school programs to coordinate each week
2. to plan and implement the Professional Development day for all three of our campuses for both this Fall and Spring
3. to coordinate our video-exchange programs grades 2-4 with 4 other campuses world-wide by December

Erin just zapped my boys

DAMN it's dry here...and that explains, in part at least, how
Erin just inadvertently shocked me in the privates because she's so static-y.
I will no longer lounge around in my briefs; it's not safe.

Transference, among other things

PRELUDE
I wrote the following post mostly to help myself clarify some confusing and conflicting feelings today. Reading over it now I can see that I blew things out of proportion a little bit with Nick and alot with myself. I am totally proud of Nick, and I am not too worried about his social development. There are some problems there, but they are not as big as I was feeling earlier, and I know he'll learn. I think I've just been transferring some of my own fears and insecurities about myself at his age onto him, and I let those fears get the better of me a little today. So take this post with a grain of salt.

I rarely ever feel like I did something completely wrong, but today was one of those days.
I could make up excuses (I can be quite convincing) like I was tired, not feeling well, my allergies blahblahblah... but the fact of the matter is I had some lousy parenting moments today.
Nick had his first swim meet today, and we drove across town, spending 5 or so hours at the pool. So he's 13, but he's still sized like the average 10 yr. old, and he was competing against bigger kids, some of whom are a good 18 inches taller and 60 pounds heavier than he is. He is definitely the smallest in his division by a huge margin.
Now, I told him that I didn't care if he placed or not (I don't) and that I just wanted him to perform his best so we could get some times set for him to compete against in the future. At this point that is all I think he needs to worry about. He's a good swimmer, and yes, very small, but that doesn't worry me. What did worry me was that he didn't put his goggles on correctly, so in the middle of his medley he kept stopping his stroke to refit them; then they eventually fell off. He also disqualified himself in his first heat, and he did the butterfly and the breast stroke like he had never learned how to do them. Even while doing the backstroke, which is his strongest, he was zigzagging and his legs were limp. He was a good 20 seconds behind the next to last competitor, and he was disqualified for not touching the wall correctly.
So anyway, I wanted to be supportive, but at the same time I didn't want to tell him he did a good job when he very obviously fucked up; if he were a new swimmer, that would be one thing, but he's not; he knows how to do a proper butterfly and breast. So when we were waiting for the next event, I told him not to worry about the first heat, and to look at the mistakes he made and correct them in the next events. I told him I didn't care what place he came in, only that he finishes the upcoming races having done the strokes correctly as best he was able.
So anyway, as we're talking, I was getting increasingly frustrated with him because he simply does not know how to carry on a conversation. I would be talking, and out of nowhere he asks a question about something completely unrelated to swimming... then he stares away, then he starts humming... it was really starting to irritate me, so I started to berate him about how disrespectful it is, and how people feel like you have no regard for them when you show them that what they are saying is so unimportant as to not be worthy of your attention.
Anyway, I just couldn't let it go for the rest of the meet, because he just kept on not listening. It's like when I used to call him and we'd be talking on the phone and then he'd start talking to his mom in the middle of my saying something. Sometimes it is like he just doesn't have the time for you when you are talking to him, and when he's like this it is very frustrating...

So anyway, he did much better in the next heat, which was the 100m freestyle. He didn't come in last, and his stroke was much better. The 3rd event was the butterfly, and he started out awesome, and was totally beating the kid he was racing, but he just didn't pace himself correctly and completely fizzled out in the last lap; his opponent beat him by .3 of a second. I was really happy with the way he did these two events, even though he came in second to last and last; he was doing his strokes the right way and he was pushing himself. We had a good-sized gap between this and the next event, so we bought a sno-cone and sat in the shade trying to stay cool.
Then he had the 100m breast stroke. This was the one that disqualified him in the medley, and I really wanted him to do it right. The short story is be bombed it; he didn't get DQ'd, but that was only because they didn't catch him making the same mistake he'd made before, but we did; he only touched the wall w/ one hand. Then he also didn't take his 2 1/2 strokes under the water, which is a huge deal in swimming this stroke correctly. He also wasn't putting his head under, and he wasn't doing his kicks correctly. I was pretty pissed. He finished 26 seconds later than the next to last competitor, and a full 1:10 less than the first place finisher in his heat.
Now, I really don't care much about how he places, and I know breast is his weakest stroke, but he swam it like he had never learned how to do it. The mistakes he made, though, were not from a lack of knowing how, and they weren't even from his lack of power (which he's working on.) I don't know where they came from.
Anyway, when he came over to us and asked how he did, I told him it wasn't very good. I didn't yell, and I didn't harp on, but I didn't lie either. Then, I felt tremendously guilty for being a little angry and embarrassed that he had bombed it. I know now that I should have told him that I was proud he completed the event, and that the point of entering all the events was to see where his strengths were, but I didn't. I just told him we needed to work on that stroke.
Anyway, when we were leaving, I tried to shift the focus back to the fact that the main thing that was important was that we now had times, and that his goals should focus on improving those times and on getting more endurance, especially in his kicks. And while we're talking he does the whole let me show you that I'm ignoring everything you are saying by not looking at you while you speak and then saying something completely unrelated to what you are talking about routine, and I just kind of snapped. I didn't say any more about his swimming, but I did yell at him about how totally rude it is to respond that way to someone who is talking to you, and then I started into him about how if that is the way he participates in conversations with his peers, he can expect people to either ignore him or pick him out as someone to tease. No one likes to be discounted when they are speaking, I tell him, and he'd better learn how to listen to people if he wants to succeed in school as well as swimming, or anything else for that matter.
Then he switches back to swimming. I can see he's trying to do like I'm asking, he's trying to keep his end of the conversation, and so he says do you think I'll win a medal? I think probably will. And in my head I'm like what? he can't be serious. But all I say is, well, not if you don't improve over today's performance, and he says what do you mean? And it's like he hasn't listend to a word I've said all day. He doesn't seem to realize that with the exception of the 100m freestyle, he came in last in every race today. So I tell him, and he looks genuinely suprised. I tell him not to worry about it, that our goal today was to get times, and that now that we have them, the goal should be to improve on them. He says I'll probably get a medal for backstroke tomorrow, and I say, well, you certainly have a chance if you put in your best effort, but don't focus on what place you take, focus on doing your strokes correctly and pushing yourself. Then I add, you'll have to focus better than you did today though, and I immediately regret it and ask myself what is wrong with you?
And so the rest of the evening came. We grilled Quesadillas, then did our chores. His is to clean the bathroom, and I was in there with him, showing him how to use this extended scrubber for the tub, and the whole listening issue came up again. He was doing it all wrong (I wasn't being a nit-picker here, he really wasn't getting the area clean) and I had to repeat to him several times simple instructions like to turn on the water. He was just ignoring me, and was doing things wrong, and in my head I'm like, why the hell should I have to even be sitting here explaining to a 13 yr old boy how do do something as simple as scrubbing the tub, a 9 yr old could figure this out on their own, and on top of that, he's not even listening to me?!
And then, I start raising my voice repeating each simple step over and over again until I'm yelling at him to do what I'm saying. I'm just frustrated. I'm thinking how goddamned hard is it to figure out that you've got to turn the water on before you can rinse something off.
So then I wake up and realize I'm yelling at him, which isn't doing anything productive, so I pause and tell him, look, it's not ok to do a half-assed job, and he looks back at me and says sometimes it is, and I just wonder, where the hell does this attitude come from? I realize then that he's not being belligerent, he's just got no idea that any of the things I've been nagging him about today are a big deal. He just seems to think that I'm blowing things out of proportion, and he's just waiting for me to be done so he can go back to doing the same old thing he's used to doing.
Anyway, we end the evening by watching the season 2 finale of Lost, and having had a few hours to reflect on the day, I realize how many stupid things I did today in the parenting department. I tell him I'm glad he competed today, and that I know I was hard on him, but not to take that as my not being proud of him. He goes to bed, and now I am asking myself, am I really proud of him, or am I just saying that to ease my guilt over my own behavior today? The fact is I AM proud of him. I just don't know how to be supportive. So I sat down and googled "how to be a supportive parent" and I came across this link. Reading over it, I can see where I need to do things differently at the meet tomorrow. Thinking on the day, and rereading my post, I can see that I went a bit crazy today. I didn't do a good job of letting him be himself, and I really need a lot of practice in finding the line between being supportive and being controlling. Tomorrow I'm going to do better.

It was bound to happen...

Sad, but true... Today I finally succumbed to a pop-up ad. I didn't actually buy anything, of course, but the ad was entertaining enough to make me pay a visit to it's home-site.
I guess that it says something about me how easily I am amused, but in honor of Brannon, I typed in "Would you like me to be your sausage wallet?" and the result (in several languages and accents) made me giggle like a school girl. Click here if you'd like to know what I'm talking about.

Buttering up the whisker biscuit

OK,

I've been berated into posting and accused of intentional withholding (which is not true, btw) and so I'll fumble through a post and hope for the best. I did post on my other blog, but whatever.

I want to thank E for the link in her latest blogpost, because I laughed outloud more than once.

Not much of interest is happening right now. We are just adjusting to the new life of school and parenthood, and the oppressive heat is keeping us from doing much (still hitting 108 plus ever day for the last several weeks, barring 1 day.) It has been a joy with Nick here, and he's doing well. We're beginning to realize how much he costs though (alot,) and we're waiting for his mom to call the AG so we can stop paying the support now that he's here. He's taking viola, doind an hour an a half of swimming every day, and basically just living the life of your average 8th grader. I am resisting making my blog a Nicky fan-site though, so enough about him (except this pic!)

So when I feel inspired, I'll post more. :)

For now, the heat, school, and day-to-day life are just sort of settling over me and I'm still adjusting.

Oppression and Depressing

Ok, you can stop your bitching now; I'm finally posting.
School's been in for a week for me, and my class is pretty cool. And small. I have 1/3 fewer students than last year (only 14!) I also somehow became responsible for being the support guy on my campus for Edline, which is ALOT of work, on top of my 3 science clubs, the curriculum development and assessment committee, and regular teaching stuff.
But it's all good.
In other news, we took Nick for swimming try-outs, and he was so good the coach wants him on the JO team. We also got him registered for school. AND Erin went back to work this week.
So, what's up with this blog's title, you ask?
Well, it was 113 degrees F today, and as I was riding my motorcycle home from work, the phrase "oppressive heat" came to mind. And I thought, you know, most people who use that phrase probably don't have a clue what oppressive heat is. Its kinda like a middle-class white guy for Ohio trying to tell an impoverished black guy from Tunica Mississippi that he sympathizes, because he too has experienced oppression.
The way I figure it, as far as analogous words go, most people who say "oppressive heat" are more likely experiencing unfriendly, or at worst, discriminatory heat. To qualify for oppression, as my thinking went, one must have an impending sense of fear for their safety from the oppressor, not just a feeling of discomfort or unfairness. And let me tell you, the heat today was more than just uncomfortable. It was truly menacing.
Now to the depressing...
I had to take Sebastian in to the vet again today. He has absessed anal glands (eeew!) and the $600 worth of medicine we gave him didn't clear them up. Basically, his butt is swollen and painful, and there's nothing much to be done about it. He is getting old, and I just found out today that the the anal gland problem is symtomatic of a deeper, more serious and permanent problem. He has perianal fistulas, which is an immune system condition with unknown causes, and it is incurable. His immune system has turned on him, and is attacking the tissues around the abssesses. The vet basically said sorry, but Sebastian probably has a year at most to live before his pain gets so bad that we will have to put him down.
So, shit.
I really love this dog.
I am not looking forward to the inevitable end, though I realize it's par for course in owning a pet. It just made me consider today that pets guarantee tragedy on an installment plan. Am I reconsidering having pets? Not for a moment. But I am thinking, perhaps for the first time, that this kind of tragedy is not in my future for the last time in my life. It is a heavy price.
Anyway, I know that as posts go, this is a long way from Zermatt, just as my life is. Reading my last few posts right now is like looking at someone else's life. Not that I am dissatisfied with things (I'm not; I'm glad Nick is here, work is good, Erin's great, etc.) I'm just a little melancholy that it already seems such a distant memory.
So there you have it. I'll try to get back into more consistent posting soon, but right now I simply am not thinking as much, and therefore, have't had alot to say. :)

Zermatt...

I've been living the last few days as in a fairytale. I've stayed in a phenomenal hotel with stunning views, I've eaten like a king, and I've actually enjoyed hours on end of shopping without worrying at all about how much things cost (with one exception; I was going to upgrade to 1st class for the trip home, but it was an additional 4,500 dollars! Jee-Zus!) I have actually really enjoyed shopping, as I was on a mission for something quite specific for Erin, and I finally found it this morning. I also bought some things for Nick, as well as a grigri for myself. It's been a great experience. To top it all off, as I was wandering around, I came across this fountain, which has convinced me that Erin needs to at least visit here someday, if not live here.

However, the shopping is just a small blip in what has been great about Zermatt. I took many, many photos, so instead of going through the laborious process of linking to them individually, I put them all in a folder here, for you to look at at your convenience.
Of all the things wonderful about this place, it is the sheer force of nature known as a glacier that has most captured my imagination. Until now, I've never seen real, large, living glaciers with my own eyes, and seeing the gouges in the mountains and the glacial silt in the rivers and the 300 ft. deep canyons that are maybe 18 inches across at their narrow points really brings home how alive our planet is and how temporary it's current visage. Actually, I'm amazed that there are still mountains here, because it looks like a few centuries of moving so much earth per day would level this place flat. It's a wonderful mystery of nature, and a near religious experience to behold. Photos are a dim reflection of the experience.
So yesterday I took the cablecar to the top of the line, where we topped out in a tiny peak above a glacial mass, and the drop thousands and thousands of feet straight down. I'm not normally susceptable to vertigo, but I did have it here when I stepped out of the car. On top of that it was below freezing and windy as hell. Fortunately I'd bought gloves and a hat. After taking the elevator to the tippy-top of the peak, where you couldn't see anything because of the clouds, I went to the glacial ice palace. just check out the photos. The sculptures were neat, but neater still was being inside a living glacier, and seeing evidence of this in bent hallways, warped ceilings, and just curves everywhere.
A few hours later I made my way back down. I called the paragliding guy, and made an appointment, weather pending, for this morning. Then I went shopping, had dinner, checked out this place, called the Vernissage, which is one of the coolest movie theaters ever, and then came back to the hotel and wrote my last post.
This morning I changed my mind about the paragliding. I've decided to head back to Geneva early, and to try to do some fishing in France along the way by taking the eastern shore of the lake instead of the western shore. I figure I can just buy a paraglider now, for about only 3 times what the tandem flight would have cost (just kidding honey; sort of...)
So that's it. I probably won't post anymore before I come home, unless I catch some fish or something unexpectedly interesting happens. I'll keep you all posted (or not.)
T

What's been up, pre-Zermatt

OK, my trip is winding down, and I just received a message from E asking WTF, why haven't I posted?

Honestly, I've thought about that several times in the last week or so, and I guess that I haven't posted because I've just been living in the moment, and I haven't been at home at all except to crash on the couch since last Friday, and well... I've just been lazy.

So, prepare yourselves. This is going to be a long post.

Part 1:
Since my last post, I finished teaching. I really enjoyed my class, and you can find out all about them individually by clicking here to view powepoint presentations I had them make about themselves and their countries. They were all very interesting, but my favorite was Tina, because she's from Slovenia, and though I haven't been there, I pretty much want to live there.

So, Thursday I went into Geneva to meet Sami, a guy I met from an online site called Geneva Online (which is pretty much the coolest free community site I've ever seen) because I convinced him to rent me his little 125cc Yamaha for a few days.
Now, up to this point it had rained and been cold/wet every single day of my trip here, but the weather was supposed to become picture-perfect from Friday until Monday or Tuesday.

--Wait... let's change topic for a second; I had to stop writing for a bit because my battery went dead, so I went for dinner. I had pumpkin soup with bacon, a gruyere fondue with curried pineapple, and DAMN, was it good!

OK, back to business. So I went to meet Sami on Thurs. to pick up the bike, but his helmet was way too small, so he suggested I go to this store about 2 blocks from the train station, which was about a 20 minute walk back across the lake towards the center of town, from which I just came. He had a few more hours of work anyway, so I needed something to do.
I made my way to the little church he used as a landmark, and turned right, as he said. I walked about 5 blocks before realizing he must have made a mistake. So I walked back to the main street, and went 5 blocks the other direction, thinking maybe he was mixed up. No cycle shop. So then I walked 5 blocks in both directions on the next street up, thinking maybe he meant the next MAIN street past the church. No luck. However, I did happen to find the "Sex Place," where there were ten girls perched in lingerie beckoning me to spend a few hours with them. Fortunately, I didn't speak the same language, so they had to use body language in the form of showing me boobs. Nice.

Anyway, at this point, I'd been walking almost non-stop for an hour and a half. I was tired, but still no helmet. Finally I caught a guy getting onto his bike, and in Spanish asked him where he'd gotten his helmet. He said at Manor, which was ironic, because I'd been in that store several times before and in fact, it is the only place I know how to get to. It turns out that there are an additional 2 levels (making a total of 7) that you can only access from a different entrance than the one I'd been using.

So I ran about 3 blocks hoping to get there in time, which I did, with 15 minutes to spare. Sadly, they had no helmets in my size.
As it was now approaching 7, I decided to head back across the lake, to call Sami from the payphone in front of the McDonalds, as he said it was closest to his work, and his apartment was only a few blocks away (tuns out I was wrong about this; he actually lives in Nyon.)

Well, that phone was broken, so I wandered up and down the streets in Oldtown looking for another phone, and about 20 minutes later I found one, though I had to wait almost 30 min. for the guy using it to finish. When I finally was able to call, he didn't answer, so I left a message telling him I'd wait by the bike. I walked the 6 blocks back to the bike, and waited for 45 min. before giving up and walking back across the river again, and finally catching the 9 o'clock train back home. All in all, I walked almost non-stop for 5 hours, and figure it must have been at least 7 miles, though I think it was closer to 9 miles.

OK, when I got home, there' an email from Sami apologizing for not meeting me, and explaining that he was already home, in Nyon.
We decided to meet the next day, Friday, and I arrived in Geneva early, to find a helmet, which I eventually did, and I finally got the bike.
I rode around Versoix and Coppet on Friday, and I was up nearly all the night because we were moved out of our house and into a new one, where the teenaged counselors were staying. I went to sleep at 4, got up at 11 on Sat. and rode my bike to Montreux for a little more poker action. After getting lost in Lausanne, and getting stuck in the downtown parking nightmare of the Montreux Jazz Fest, I finally made it to the casino at 9. The poker didn't go as well as the week before, and I only wound up winning 1800. :)
So I rode home as the sun was coming up, hugging the lakeshore most of the way, but occasionally riding up into these ancient villages clinging to the mountainside. I have to say that as the sun was coming up, the view of the lake combined with the countryside made for the best motorcycle ride of my life. I got home about 7:00 am to find the door locked, so I had to hop the fence and go in the kitchen door.
Sunday I got up about noon, kicked around the house a bit, then went for a ride to Divonne to do some fishing. I walked around the lake there, rod and reel in hand, but saw no fish rising. After it got dark, I rode to the casino there, played cards til about 3:30, and won 500 euros.
Monday I had to return the bike, as well as pick up my rental car, so I rode the train to the airport, got the car, drove home, rode the bike to Sami's work in Oldtown, then walked back to the train, and came home for the car. The whole process took about 5 hours, and by then the girls were home from their 1st day teaching the second session. Since I had a car, I offered to drive to dinner, and we wound up eating in France, in a town called Ferney-Voltaire, where the famous Voltaire lived. Then I dropped them off and headed back to Divonne for more poker.
Now, I know I said it in my last post, but it bears repeating; this area is poker paradise. This particular night, I got a player to put 1100 euros into the pot heads-up preflop, with pocket 2's. I, of course, had pocket Aces. I'd moved into the larger game that night (10-20 blinds), intending to move down to the lower game (2-4) when a seat came open, but the players in the big game were even worse than the small, so I stayed there. In the end, I walked away that night with 2300 more euros than I started with. All in all for this trip so far, I've made over 7,000 US dollars playing poker. It's simply unbelievable.

I finally made it home about 4, slept on the couch, and got up Tuesday at about 11, and got on the road to Zermatt, world-famous village at the foot of the Matterhorn, by 3.
I had intended when I started this post to get to my incredible day here, but I am already tired and need to be up early for the chance (weather permitting) to go paragliding in the morning. So I promise that tomorrow I'll update again. I'll just leave you with this taste: the view this morning from my large balcony. Simply incredible.

T

Poker heaven Poker hell

So I have taken awhile to get back to writing this post. Since all of you know my obsession w/ poker and I know it can be a bit boring to hear of, I have been debating going into great detail here. I've opted for the short version.
Poker in France and Switzerland is a new phenomenon. Texas Hold 'Em has only been legal for about 6 months, and poker is not all over the TV here like it is in the states. Combine this with the fact that ALL of the players at my table the other night were casino gamblers and not poker players, and you've got what I can only describe as a situation just like you hear old-time pros (like Doyle Brunson or Bobby Baldwin) describe when they talk about the golden years of Vegas poker in the 1960's.
I didn't realize when I sat down how big the game was (in terms of money) and I bought in for only 400 in a game with blinds of 10-20. After the first half hour or so I almost started to panic because I really felt like I needed about 2000 to play well in this game. Why? Well for one, there was a combined total of about 20,000 dollars in play. Two players in particular were betting thousands of dollars every few hands with hands like KJ or 44... preflop! Not only that, but they would put all their money in after the flop w/ 2 undercards, and no draw. It was truly unbelieveable, and a golden opportunity, but I remained card-dead for the first 4 hours of play. I seriously tightened up my game, folding pocket queens before the flop, limping with kings, etc. I knew that if I could just hit a flop hard it would be paydirt. The problem was in the huge bets preflop; almost every hand was brought in for somewhere between 80 and 500 dollars, so I just kept folding, folding, folding. During that 1st four hours I only won 2 pots. Only 2, out of about 160 hands played! (statitically, I was due about 16.) So I got down to 160 and went all in preflop w/ pocket 2's, got called by a K7 and an A8, and I won the hand. A few rounds later I bought in an additional 500 (for a grand-total of 900) and was blinded down to 240 when my 4th winning hand of the night came up.
I called a 5 way pot w/ pocket 5's for 120 before the flop; a desperate call, but the odds were great, and if I missed the flop, I had one more all-in that could keep me floating. Well, on the flop I hit a set, and before the action got to me, the original bettor bet 300 and 2 others called. I of course called, and in the end, my set held and I was up to around 1200.
To make a longer story not so long, by the end of the night the cards balanced out and I started getting some playable hands. I would up walking away w/ 4000 Swiss Francs, 3100 profit, which translates to about 2600 dollars.
That game was a player's dream, because that kind of play simply doesn't exist in the States anymore. I suspect it won't last long over here, but I am extremely glad I got to get a taste of what it must have been like in the old days playing poker for thousands of dollars against players who simply do not understand how to play.
Aside from the great action, a few other things were different here. For one, the player w/ the dealer button actually cuts the cards. Also, they make you dress up; it's slacks and a tie on the weekends, or it's a no-go. And the biggest difference, and probably the thing that will keep poker from being a big success here until they change it, is the rake.
For those of you who don't know, rake is the term used for the house's cut from a pot. Since the house doesn't make money off the players in poker the same way it does in other games, they take a percentage out of each pot. In Vegas, the standard is 10% of the pot, up to 4$. In big games (30$-60$ and higher)they will charge a time fee, usually 20$ an hour per player. Here, the rake never maxes out... it keeps getting bigger the bigger the pot gets.
We had about 20,000 on the table at one point. by the end, only 9,000 was cashed out. That means that during our 7 hours of play, the house took 11,000 dollars off the table in rake. They had a chart posted with the house take listed by the size of the pot. For the largest pot in our game that night, the rake was 240$. I watched them raking so much money and got a laugh at some of the players I know who bitch about the rake in Vegas having gone from a 3$ max per pot to 4$ max in the last few years. They'd have heart attacks if they played here.
Honestly though, I think the casinos are going to find pretty quickly that they can't sustain their poker games in the long run when they keep taking so much money from the players. In our game, very nearly 50% of the money that was put on the table went to the house, and if we'd played another 8 hours at that rate with no one leaving, ALL the money would have disappeared and we'd all have left losers, whether we ever lost a hand or not. I don't think the casinos realize that their locals will eventually go broke to the rake, but I suppose the casinos will have to experience that for themselves.
OK, I've said enough. I could go on a lot longer, but I'll save it for others who truly find poker interesting. :)

T

Tyson Luck Strikes Again!
Man, I can't believe I'm already on my last week of work here. 3 more days of class, then a week off, then it's back home again. I really miss Erin, but I certainly am not missing the record heat; hopefully it'll cool down in the next week or so.
Anyway, on to my post.
This past week had a lot going on, what with the 4th of July (we made good old American burgers and tater tots) and with the Lake Parade and the huge party for Switzerland's winning of the America's Cup again.
A few days ago I was hungry for some fishing, and I decided to hike along the River Versoix because I found a site which said you could walk along about three miles of it through the forest, and someone else said it held trout. Well, I walked about 1 mile or so along a little paved pathway, but it's been raining so much here (every day since we got here) that the river was totally swollen and inaccessable. The path turned out to be a driveway to a neat little farmhouse, but I didn't go any farther because I didn't want to freak out the farmers. I turned around and instead decided I'd follow it to where it dumped into the lake. About 2 miles later I came to the spot, a lovely little area owned by the University of Geneva, with a little park, and a pebbly beach to fish from. I fished for awhile, got a bite and saw some jump, but didn't land a fish. It started to rain again so I decided to head home. I decided to walk through town this time, since I hadn't been down there before, and I saw lots of neat little stores, a bakery, a chocolate factory, and this place. No, it's not what you think, it's actually a Thai market/restaurant, but what a great name for brand recognition!
It was closed though, so I hit the bakery across the street, got a coconut gellato, and made my way home, deciding that the next day I would ride my loaner bicycle to this little town in France called Divonne les Bains which is about 8 miles away. There is a lake there that is said to have trout, as well as hotsprings and a casino which just started featuring Hold 'Em poker a few months ago. I figured I'd fish a few hours, play cards a few hours, and ride home in plenty of time for a good night's sleep.
Well, my usual Tyson luck struck again. I rode out of town along the lake road with my backpack filled with fishing gear to the town of Coppet because someone told me there was a bike shop where I could get a lock for my bike since the school had none, and I was worried about someone stealing the bike while I was in France. The shop was closed, so I went into Coppet then turned left for the long 3 mile ride uphill to Divonne. I know it doesn't sound horrible (it was only mildly hard on my out-of-shape body) but it was longer and more difficult than my original route would have been, and I never scored the lock I was after. Anyway, in casinos here you must dress up, so I was wearing slacks and a white oxford, lightweight enough not to get too sweaty provided I didn't over-exert myself. Sadly, the uphill was harder than I thought, and I was sweaty by 2/3 the way up. On top of that, the chain popped off twice, and it was VERY greasy. I did an admirable job of not getting grease on my clothes, and just as I was topping the hill coming up to the A-1 freeway, the chain on my bike broke.
Shit.
OK, I was about 7 miles from school and only 2 or so from Divonne, so I stashed the bike in some weeds on the side of the road and began making a run for France! Well, a walk anyway.
I'd forgotten my passport, but I was fairly confident no one would ask (no one did) and besides, I really had no other choice. Divonne is away from the lake and has no train service, so I planned to get to town, then figure out the rest.
About 30 minutes and one border-crossing later, I walked out of the quaint and narrow little downtown area and up to the casino. It was about 6:30, and the poker room had opened about 30 minutes before, or so I thought. Turns out I was wrong; it didn't open for another hour and a half. Fortunately the conscierge that was helping me spoke English ( I HATE not knowing French!) and was actually the only one there who did, and she listened to my tale and suggested I go to the bus station because the last bus to Coppet on Fridays ran sometime between 8:30 and 9:30, and there would be a schedule posted. Thanking her for her help, I walked a few blocks to the station where I saw that there were 2 more busses scheduled to depart for Coppet that evening, and then I could catch a train from there back to Versoix.
The next bus wasn't scheduled to arrive for about 30 minutes, so I bought a pizza from a mobile pizza truck on the corner. It was a neat idea, but the pizza was kind of a let-down. I guess that "supremo" in French means frickin'-everything-whether-flavors-pair-or-not, because that pizza was gross. Among the toppings were Ham, blue cheese, tuna, and capers. I ate a few of the toppings and dumped the rest. I also read a little, and explored the abandoned train station across the street. Then I read some more, listen to my ipod, and realized, hey.... where the f*ck is that damned bus?!
The time now being 8:10, I wandered back to the casino. The only other bus out of town had been here 3 times, but it went the other direction, so I figured something must have happened to my bus. I found the same lady at the casino, but instead of playing poker I decided that I was too distracted, so I asked her to call me a cab, which she did, then the cabby drove me home; the cost for the 9 mile trip? 35 euro, or about 50 bucks.
The next day the activity director drove me to pick the bike up, and thankfully it was still there. So for now, I was back on foot.
The girls all wanted to go into Geneva for the Lake Parade, and the drinking, and it just didn't seem like my idea of fun. I was all jazzed to play poker, so I did a little research and found out that there was another casino in the Swiss town of Montreux that offered poker starting at 4:00. Montreux is all the way at the other end of lake Geneva, about 1 1/2 hours by train, but it WAS on the line, so I decided to check it out, and if it wasn't any good, it would still be early enough to make my way back to Coppet and take a cab into Divonne.
The World-famous Montreux Jazz festival is happening right now, and so the town was packed. I made it there without any problems, had dinner, and just wandered around a bit while waiting for the cardroom to open (it didn't open until 9:00; for some reason I keep getting my time wrong!) and enjoying what was the most picturesque place I have ever been. The views of the alps, the castle, the old-time streets... it was just beautiful.
And the poker?
That's a story unto itself, for a later post.
T

Reality Check

I could live in Europe...
I love not having to drive. I haven't driven a car for like 3 weeks.
I love the mystery that pervades this place where so many cultures and languages come together and you are never certain about the person next to you. Are they Saudi? Finnish? Korean? Slovenian?
This immense diversity really makes you more aware of how varied a place our planet is. It also breeds a kind of polite optimism in your day to day dealings with others.
I love the history; yesterday, just down the street, I stood on the walls of a castle that was built in 1218, then stepped around the corner for a cappucino in a local bar built in the 1700's.
I love the water. It is everywhere, and as a result so are the plants and animals.
I love having fresh-baked bread and fresh-made cheeses of all kinds every day.
I love the walking paths along the creeks, which pass innumerable mossy walls and a countless variety of interesting buildings.
I love the fact that it hasn't been warmer than the mid 70's or cooler than the mid 60's in over a week.

I want to live here someday. But the truth is, all of these great experiences and all the things I love about living here mean nothing really because I don't have Erin here to share them with. The truth is, not many grownups are interested in the things I like. Certainly none of the ones I am living with, and while I do enjoy spending time alone, it makes all the difference viewing things in this way, because apart from the do-it-once vacation experiences, the daily living experiences I happen to be thinking about are only really worthwhile when I have Erin to share them with. SHE would appreciate all the little things I've been noticing, and I think she'd thrive here in a way that neither of us can in Vegas. It's in living here, not just vacationing, that I see Erin and I one day being really content.
I guess what this post boils down to is that I miss her, and it's not that I wish she were here with me for a few weeks, but that she were here with me for a few years. Love ya sweetie. :)

Seven being the number...

to which Erin is allocated... betterness ...(?) than me, in the having of pertinance in regard to... word-full-y-ality (!?)

abjure abrogate abstemious acumen antebellum auspicious belie bellicose bowdlerize chicanery chromosome churlish circumlocution circumnavigate deciduous deleterious diffident enervate enfranchise epiphany equinox euro evanescent expurgate facetious

fatuous feckless fiduciary filibuster gamete gauche gerrymander hegemony hemoglobin homogeneous hubris hypotenuse impeach incognito incontrovertible inculcate infrastructure interpolate irony jejune kinetic kowtow laissez faire lexicon loquacious

lugubrious metamorphosis mitosis moiety nanotechnology nihilism nomenclature nonsectarian notarize obsequious oligarchy omnipotent orthography oxidize parabola paradigm parameter pecuniary photosynthesis plagiarize plasma polymer precipitous quasar quotidian

recapitulate reciprocal reparation respiration sanguine soliloquy subjugate suffragist supercilious tautology taxonomy tectonic tempestuous thermodynamics totalitarian unctuous usurp vacuous vehement vortex winnow wrought xenophobe yeoman ziggurat

I knew the words in green; I did not know the words in red. In total, I knew 73 of 100.

Mon Dieu!

Man, I had never been as sore from a hike as I was last night. If the second day after is the worst, as it so often is, I am really dreading tomorrow...

Where did I go to cause such distress to my rapidly aging body?

Funny you should ask!

Yesterday I went for a "walk," not a hike, up to the top of the highest peak of the Cornettes de Bise, the highest point surrounding Lake Geneva. I found this European distinction in the use of the word "walk" to be quite more distinct than I ever would have guessed, because for Americans, walking means like to the car, or down the street, or maybe at most around the nice little city park. Never in a million years would you find an American referring to what I did ysterday as merely "walking." I'm sure it is due to the basic diference in lifestyles between here and there, but of all the words whose usage differs between the 2 continents, walk is by far the biggest mutation.

So, little did I know that morning when I woke up late that this "walk" was going to be so tough. It wasn't hard-core, but it was definitely hard, and I think I may have done some actual damage to my knees.... still, it was totally worth it.

Unfortunately, my piece-of-crap Sony camera's battery went dead after only 8 or so photos, even though I charged it the night before, so I didn't wind up with many photos. The ones I did take are below, and probably don't need an explanation... they are all from the beginning of the hike, maybe the 1st 3/4 km or so.

Anyway, this walk is only about 4 km long, but in that 4 km, you gain a full km in elevation. The up was relentless, but the views were worth the pain. Along the way I saw a marmot and several mountain goats. One baby goat in particular was quite distressed and was just crying up a storm, while it's mother was ignoring it as she was drinking or something. I can only assume it was drinking, because she was taking in mouth's full of rocks, gringing them up, and spitting them out. I got a close up look at this process because by that time in the hike we were nearing the summit, and my eyes were glued to the path because I was so tired. One of my "walking" companions said "um, better watch it mate," at which time I looked up just in time to keep from bumping into said goat. The goat was about 4 feet in front of me, looking at me as though I were some idiot tourist with no sense of personal space, which I totally was. I backed away, took several pics w/ my cell phone (though I don't know how to get them off yet) and continued on.

When we finally reached the summit, there was a wooden cross, and an amazing panorama. You could see all of Lake Geneva, which was amazing considering it is the largest natural lake in Europe, as well as a variety of mountains, including the Eiger and Mont Blanc.

Since my camera was down, I've spent some time online trying to find pics that match up well with my experience. Here is a blog and another site (be sure to look towards the bottom of the page for the galleries!) which have nice photos as well as good information.

All in all it was a great experience, though on the down side it made me realize that my age is starting to cach up with me physically. I've never really hurt like this before, and I am a little concerned that this may portend worse thins o come. I'm planning a trip to the doc when I get home, and hopefully I can do something about this knee-thing.

T

Vu ,Moo, Fondue, et vous

So I am beginning to fit in here in Versoix...
Well, ok, not exactly fit in, but I am feeling less and less a big American moron by the day. I've taken the train into Geneva-proper twice now, and I ate fondue at a world-famous restaurant called L'Armoir (Bill Clinton ate there during his presidency even though it was impossible given the restaurant's location to make the place secure; he loved food so much he didn't mind the risk. They have a letter from him to the owner mounted permanently on the wall.)
I also am using money without getting confused, I've eaten about 20 things I couldn't identify, and I finally found a book about hiking in the mountains nearby. Jane, a teacher from France who runs several language schools there (it's only 7 miles away) is an avid hiker, and she hooked me up with the book. It's in French, but at least it has a map. I plan on going next week while the students are away for two days. The girls are all going to Paris, but I need some girl-free time, and I'm sure they could use a break from giving me a hard time.
OH, I almost forgot. Last night we had Swiss Night, where we ate local foods and heard yodelers and stuff. We had some of the most horrible smelling cheese ever called raclette. It did taste much better than it smelled, however.
I ALSO tried my hand (well, lips) at playing an alpenhorn.
OH, YEAH... I f*ckin' jammed, bro.
Hmmmm... what else?
Let's see... I finally made the acquaintance of some "world famous" Swiss Cows, I saw a hedgehog and a snail, I took a silly photo of one of my students, and I at long last found a real espresso machine this morning (Lemme give a shout out to my boy, God, for the good coffee!) and now, after having finally updated my blog again, it is time for a nap.

Weirdness in the wee hours

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Gack! Sleepy...

I guess I am still jetlagged, because I got nailed by the sleepies this afternoon like you wouldn't believe. Or it could be that I've probably walked 3 or 4 miles today... I didn't realize how little walking I do at home, but it is a nice change for me here. I am definitely one of those damned car-dependent Americans.

I found a store in town today that is open from 2:30 -6:00, so I was finally able to get some razors, though they only had the girly pink disposable ones... whatever.

My roomies have already taken to making fun of me for fixating on the local flora and fauna. I guess I forget in spending all my time with Erin that most adults could care less about slugs or bats or rats. Yes, rats. As I was walking the tree-line path to school...

I was looking in the water hoping to see fish, and this big white thing wiggled by. I thought it was a fish until it wiggld out of the water and scurried into the grass. I'd never seen a wild rat before, and I hope he stays far away from our house.

I also saw a kid with the smallest puppy I've ever seen. it's the same saize as a kitten!

Hmmmm... What else?

Oh, Mont Blanc! Clearly visible from Geneva, this is one Bitchin' mountain.

More on it later. OK, I'm off for dinner, but I'll probably post more later.

T

Day 2

Well, today we didn't do much. We had breakfast, which consisted of yogurt, cereal and chocolate-filled croissants, and then we accidentally sat in on a meeting for the teen-aged counselors before we realized as teachers that we didn't need to do it. I found out I will be teaching English in the mornings instead of Science in the afternoon, which suits we fine. It means freeing up my afternoon.We took the train into Geneva, which is a cool city. Very international, and it was interesting that for the first time in my life the white people were diferentiated by their nationality. People of hundreds of countries speaking dozens of different languages. Funny that there is a huge Starbucks which as just packed, and was the only place to get coffee after 6 pm. EVERYTHING is closed here after 6 and all day Sunday, so it was my last chance for coffee. But, dammit, they wouldn't accept my Sbux gift-card.

Afterward, we went to the Jardin Anglais and had pizza in the middle of a huge celebration where they were watching the beginnings of the America's Cup on a huge outdoor screen. Apparently, team Switzerland is kicking a little New Zealand-ass, and wants to hold on to the cup they won in 2003. It was a fun atmosphere, and I hope they hold on to it for another 4 years.Other interesting sights included a string of banks notorious for holding Nazi wealth during WW II, a bunch of watch stores, and, oddly, a Columbia store, which is Erin's and my favorite clothing line. It was closed, but I plan on returning when they open to look for some goodies for Erin.

After that we ran back to catch our train back to Versoix, which only leaves cerntral Geneva at the top of the hour. We got there exactly as the train was pulling up, which was good because one of our girls had a curfew of 10:00 and it was the 9:00 train we barely made.Now, it is 10:30 Sunday morning, and I overslept, missing breakfast. Unfortunately, NOTHING is open, so I'll have to wait for lunch, but I'm filling in the time writing this here blog. I am hoping to find someone who brought disposable razors, as I am looking a little scruffy for a teacher and there is nowhere to buy one today.

Day one (sort of)

Well, here I am, in Switzerland. I have to confess that the jetlag was WAY worse than I was expecting, so yesterday didn’t count as the 1st day. We had to sit on the runway in Newark for 4 HOURS while waiting for the weather to clear, so our 8 hour trip became 12 hours in the plane. Ugh.

OK, in no particular order, here are a few of the things I’ve noticed so far that I didn’t expect.

1. Giant Swiss slugs.

2. The “Z” and “Y” are reversed on the keyboards.

3. Lots and lots and lots of motorcycles on the very narrow roads

Anyway, it is beautiful here, and the people I’ve met so far have been pretty nice. I haven’t made a trip into town yet, but I will today. I need to get a few things I forgot, like soap, a razor, a plug adapter, and allergy pills. I also need to get some new headphones because I broke mine on the plane while squirming around trying to get comfortable. I’ve been trying to learn some French phrases from the nifty book Erin got me, but as soon as I put the book down, I forget them. French is all Greek to me. Hopefully I’ll be a little better at picking it up now that the jetlag’s wearing off.

Enough from me for now. I am off for breakfast, and to find an internet connection so I can actually upload this to my blog.

T

F*ck the morons at the State Department

Well, I am now not quite as at ease as I was last night. I'm not so worried about missing my flight as I am incredibly annoyed at having waited on hold for nearly 2 hours this afternoon, only to be hung up on while waiting to talk to a supervisor about where the fuck my passport is.
I am normally not a violent person, but fantasies of driving to LA and going postal (metaphorically of course) on the idiots in the regional passport office are occupying all the idle time on my hands as I wait for the fourth time now to speak to someone.
I find it odd how incredibly efficient the State department is in cashing checks (mine was cashed 33 days ago) yet they can't seem to meet their 7-10 day expedited service within 5 weeks, or their "guaranteed 48 hour response" time within 8 days, nor can they apparently copy down a tracking number correctly.
It's almost comedic how completely dishonest and without value this enormous government agency is in regards to its capacity to do its job in a timely manner.

OK, maybe my NEXT post will be from somewhere else.

T

A typical few days in the life of Tyson

OK,

So, in no particular order, here are the main things that happened in my life on Saturday, and are still unresolved today...

1. Visa informed me that someone probably jacked my debit card number and my account was frozen. Fortunately, all the charges were denied and some jerkoff in West Hollywood Florida was unable to buy product at a hair salon. UNfortunately, since I'll need my card to get cash whilst in Europe, I had to pay 42$ to have a new card made and rush delivered in time for my Thursday departure.

2. my flight leaves in 30 hours, and I haven't received my passport yet. However, according tot he VERY helpful guy on the phone today my passport was sent from LA via overnight expressmail. He was nice enough to give me a tracking # which, as far as USPS is concerned, shows that my passport was delievered in Canada in Dec. 2006.

3. The VERY helpful anti-spyware program, Spybot Seek and Destroy, irreparably damaged my computer on uninstall, and I've lost, among other things, email and passwords for bill-related sites dating for the last 4 years. After spending, oh, about 10 hours infront of my comp. on Sunday, my computer is now running (barely) but I still can't access email addys, etc.

4. My motorcycle, which I took in to have a flat tire fixed, oh, about 200 miles ago, again has a flat tire. and it's a tubed tire no less.

So, this is pretty much par for course in my life. I often wonder what would happen to me under such circumstances if I were the type of person who, like, worried and got bent out of shape over things like this. I'd probably have a heart attack or nervous breakdown. As it is, I'm really feeling indifferent to it all.
Either my tube will be replaced free of charge, or it won't.
Either my comp is toast, or I'll fix it when I get back.
Either I go in 29 hours, or I don't.

I have little doubt my next post will be from Newark or Geneva... provided I don't wind up stranded on a desert island or something.