mggmllr's Xanga

My Upcoming Adventure

Sun, 10 Jun 2007 03:52:34 GMT

I'm leaving for Europe in two and a half weeks. I think I'm out of my mind. Myself and my dear friend Heidi bought our tickets on Monday, we will be gone for a month, we have nothing more than a basic itinerary, we have a below-the-poverty-line budget, and we speak no European languages (Latin is not as useful as one might think when trying to communicate with locals in Spain, France, and Italy...Thai, even less so). But, one has to grab at these opportunities when one has the chance (or, in an attempt to derive some usefulness from the Latin language, "carpe diem"). So, I am going to Europe for a month. How do I feel about this?

I am enraptured, of course. There is something about Europe that connects to a part of me that entirely neglected here in the USofA. The architecture inlaid with history, the streets ablaze with diversity, the corridors steeped in thought, the sidewalks cafes full of life. There is a wealth of wisdom to be gained by walking amongst people and places so tightly bound to their past, so content to live in the moment, and so eagerly straining toward the future. In America we seem to be missing two out of these three. Oh, we are very good at straining toward the future. I don't think anyone would argue with that. But we seem to think that we can't move forward if we choose to embrace our past and if we delight in our present. I would argue that we are wrong. Regardless, I look forward to breathing the air of Europe. I find that, no matter how hard I try to avoid it, I so easily become caught up in my little world. The minute dramas, frustrations, pleasures, and challenges grow enormous under constant attention until they consume all of me. Every so often I must force my head above water, take a look around, and put my little world with all its complexities back in perspective. This is not to belittle my life, it is simply refreshing to be reminded that there is so much more. There are bigger issues, more ways to look at things, and many more things to learn. I also look forward to spending time with Heidi, who is a constant source of wisdom and encouragement to me.

I am also a little apprehensive. I have done my share of traveling, but I have always gone to a specific place, usually with a specific plan or objective in mind. This time things are much more tentative. It will all come together, I am sure, but facing so many questions and possibilities is a bit daunting. Then, of course, there is the issue of budget, which will require us to be far more creative than many European travelers. But I always like a challenge. However, what concerns me the most is how sad I will be to leave my home for a month. I have always been very restless. I rarely get attached to places and, I must admit, people. Independent to a fault, I have often taken the beauty and wonder of friendship, of community, of home for granted. However, over the past year or two, through a series of humbling and often painful lessons, I am at last beginning to learn the value of community and the beauty of dependency. And instead of feeling terrified of being trapped or tied down to one place, I feel extraordinarily happy and blessed to be precicely where I am surrounded by incredible family and friends who love me. And, after about six months of wondering whether anywhere on this earth would ever feel like home again, I can finally rejoice that, for now, I have a home. Yes, as sentimental as it sounds, I will only be gone for a month and I will have a marvelous time, but I am fairly certain that I will be genuinely homesick for the first time.

Saturday, April 07, 2007

Sat, 07 Apr 2007 16:15:03 GMT

Credo in unum Deum, Patrem omnipotentem,

factorem caeli et terrae, visibilium omnium et invisibilium.

Et in unum Dominum Iesum Christum,

Filium Dei unigenitum, et ex Patre natum ante omnia saecula.

Deum de Deo,

Lumen de Lumine,

Deum verum de Deo vero,

genitum, non factum, consubstantialem Patri;

per quem omnia facta sunt.

Qui propter nos homines et propter nostram salutem descendit de caelis.

Et incarnatus est de Spiritu Sancto ex Maria Virgine, et homo factus est.

Crucifixus etiam pro nobis sub Pontio Pilato, passus et sepultus est,

et resurrexit tertia die, secundum Scripturas,

et ascendit in caelum, sedet ad dexteram Patris.

Et iterum venturus est cum gloria, iudicare vivos et mortuos,

Cuius regni non erit finis;

I believe in one God, the Father Almighty

Maker of heaven and earth, and of all things visible and invisible

And in one Lord Jesus Christ,

the only-begotten Son of God, begotten of the Father before all worlds;

God of God, Light of Light, very [true] God of very [true] God;

begotten, not made, being of one substance with the Father,

by Whom all things were made;

Who for us men and for our salvation came down from Heaven, and became man.

and was incarnate by the Holy Ghost of the Virgin Mary, and was made man:

And was crucified also for us under Pontius Pilate; he suffered and was buried:

And the third day he rose again according to the Scriptures:

And ascended into Heaven, and sitteth on the right hand of the Father:

And he shall come again, with glory, to judge both the living and the dead:

Whose Kingdom will have no end.

Keeping up with the Times - My Quest for Digital Supremacy...or just Adequacy

Thu, 08 Mar 2007 03:12:55 GMT

Last week I decided it was high time I invested in a new digital camera. The enormous silver box bearing the prestigious initials "HP" that has been my photographic companion for the past five or six years is past its prime and ready to retire. It was time to find a younger sprier replacement. Little did I suspect what an incredible test this would be of my decision making skills. First of all, anyone who has ever shopped for a digital camera will tell you that there are a ridiculous amount of options available. I tried to do a little research before I set out on my quest, reading up on recent reviews. Unfortunately every review is relative to what you want out of a camera. After browsing a handful of websites trying to track down the perfect camera, I gave up the online portion of my investigation and decided to hit the stores. It took me a couple of failures before I realized my own stupidity and decided to head to the one place a person should obviously go to find the best selection of digital cameras: a camera shop. Namely, Wolf Cameras.

Now, in my journey to find the perfect camera I have learned many hidden secrets of the camera world. For example, did you know that mega pixels really make very little difference in a digital camera. It's true. Companies always advertise by spouting off an ever-increasing number of mega pixels their particular camera offers. Don't be deceived. In reality, a photograph taken with a 6MP camera looks much the same as a photograph taken with a 3MP camera. Unless you are going to blow up a picture to a gargantuan size (and I do mean gargantuan) then there is really no reason why anyone would need more than a 3 or 4 megapixel camera. Also, just because a name is famous in the camera industry does not mean everything they make is fabulous. For example, Nikon makes fabulous high end cameras. It's their specialty. However their low end, amateur, easy-to-use cameras are not that great.

So I asked the friendly camera-informed guy behind the counter which make or model he would recommend, giving him a list of some of the things I was looking for and what I would like to spend. He turned around, pulled a small unassuming camera off the shelf, and handed it to me. This should do the trick, he told me. It's a simple camera, has all of the options you could possibly want, and takes great pictures. Oh, and it's less that half the price of what you said you were thinking of paying, he happened to add. The reason for the low cost? Well, it's not one of the sleek, micro-thin cameras people are willing to pay big money for. Plus, it only has 4.1 mega pixels (see above debunk of the mega pixel myth). Oh, and it has a small view screen, which is apparently unpopular. What did I care? I was tired of looking and this was a great deal. I bought it with full assurances that I could return it in thirty days if I wasn't happy with it, waved goodbye to the girl who was looking for a telephoto lens in order to stalk people (different story), and took my new friend home to play. And so, the story has a happy ending. I am enjoying my new friend and I'm pretty sure I'm going to keep him. I haven't named it yet, but I am already falling in love. To show off some of his work, I'm attaching a random picture I took this evening.

Good Idea...Bad Idea...

Fri, 02 Mar 2007 14:43:05 GMT

Good idea...
Going to see Stephen Kellogg and Matt Wertz in concert.

Bad idea...
Going to see Stephen Kellogg and Matt Wertz in concert and having to get up and teach school the next morning.

Good idea...
Going to see the Houston Ballet

Bad idea...
Driving from Fort Worth to Houston and back in one day in order to see the Houston Ballet, knowing full well that you will be way behind in work and exhausted the next day. (But it was still worth it)

Good idea...
Nannying for three sweet kids so that their parents can go out of town.

Bad idea...
Nannying during the week so that I have to help with homework, go to soccer practice, make sure lunches are packed, and get kids up on time, all while trying to get caught up with work.

Good idea...
Passing out contracts to teachers for the next school year.

Bad idea...
Passing out contracts to teachers for the next school year during the roughest part of this school year.

Good idea...
Reading "Maggie: A Girl of the Streets" in my high school American literature class. (Stephen Crane is brilliant)

Bad idea...
Reading "Maggie: A Girl of the Streets" aloud in my high school American literature class when there are fourth graders just across the hall. (I've got to remember to shut the door)

Good idea...
Weekends

Bad idea...
Having to grade a million essays over the weekend.

Life, Death, and Misadventure

Tue, 20 Feb 2007 20:23:50 GMT

It was a great idea, in theory. My students recently finished reading Huckleberry Finn and, as the crowning activity for our study of Mark Twain’s epic novel, we were going to take a canoe trip down the river. It was going to be a wonderful opportunity for the girls to experience what life on the river might actually be like, to get away from the city and contrast nature and civilization, and to bond as a class. Well, we experienced all this and more.

We arrived at the “put-in” around 9:45am and were met by our jovial canoe provider, a man named Charles. I believe it suffices to say that Charles had hair down to his waist, a brown fishing hat, and aviator sun glasses. He helped us get the canoes down into the river, gave us a few basic instructions, and handed us a map. The one piece of instruction he reiterated a dozen times was, “Don’t lose your paddles”. We assured him we would hold onto our paddles and then cheerfully set out down the river. Actually, myself and the student with me set out just fine in our canoe, but the other two had a little trouble. We turned around to see what was keeping them, only to discover that they were tracing circles through the river with their canoe. We tried to give them some instructions, but really we just had fun laughing at their antics. The two of them were just beginning to get the hang of the entire rowing concept when we hit a bit of a rough patch in the river. It was only a small rapids, but there were plenty of rocks and the water was moving quickly. My canoe-mate and I headed toward the right where things looked a little calmer. When we turned around to check the progress of our companions we were not at all surprised to see that they had entirely lost control of their canoe and were being washed into the strongest part of the rapids. Still, the water was not deep and they looked like they would be fine. But, rather than being washed back into smoother water, like they hoped, the current pushed their canoe sideways and straight into a fallen tree. Upon impact they lost control of their craft and began to tip. It seemed to happen in slow motion. First they began to tilt to one side, then water began to poor in. Soon the canoe capsized and they were thrown into the churning river. We were still laughing from the opposite shore until we saw the head of one girl disappear beneath the surface and suddenly realized the water was much deeper and much stronger where they were. She was back above water in less than two seconds but it felt like an eternity. I could tell, even from the other side of the river, that she was shaken up. The only thing I knew was that I had to get over to where they were to make sure no one was hurt. There was no way we could maneuver our canoe to where they were and we didn’t want to risk tipping another canoe, so I told the student with me to stay on the bank with the canoe and I stepped into the icy current and began my attempt at fording the river. As I drew nearer to where they had fallen in, the water became stronger and the rocks slicker. Before I knew it, my feet had been washed out from under me and I was suddenly rushing down river where there was a sudden drop off. I tried to pull my head above water, but my foot was stuck and I couldn’t get it free. Finally, with the help of my life vest and a nearby branch, I was able to reach the surface, but my foot was still entangled. I struggled to free my shoe, but found it impossible. Finally I managed to pry my foot out of the shoe, but this meant saying goodbye forever to my shoe. The two bedraggled students and I crawled up the steep bank and stood there shivering, soaking wet and covered in mud. We laughed that the only thing they had emerged from the river with were the paddles. Thanks, Charles!

The canoe, I soon found was lodged quite firmly upside-down under a fallen tree. I tried climbing out on the tree trunk, with my one shoe and one sock covered feet, but there was no way I could make it that far. Even if I could have made it, the current was too strong for me to be able to push it out. We had to start making some decisions as no one was going to be able to rescue us. I shouted to the student across the river and told her to call Charles and tell him what happened. After a few minutes she shouted back that all four of us were going to have to get in one canoe and proceed down the river, another two hours, to the original meeting place as there was nowhere else he could meet us. The problem was now, how to get to the canoe or how to get the canoe to us. It was impossible for us to walk or swim across the river, as I had just discovered and I knew that the student with the canoe was probably not experienced enough to navigate the rapids and bring the boat to us. So I told them we would have to walk downstream a ways until we reached calmer water. I shouted to our friend across the river that she would have to drag the canoe down river a ways as she was in very shallow water and there was no way I was going to have her get in the canoe and risk being washed further downstream and we began our trek along the shoreline. I don’t think I am exaggerating when I use the word “trek”. We had to scramble up the steep sloping bank and then back down again. We tried to walk along a sand bank at one point only to sink in mud up to our knees. Please try to visualize two seventeen year old girls and me covered in mud and water, wearing life vests and carrying paddles, and me with only one shoe on hiking through mud and brush. Finally we made it to a bend in the river. It didn’t look like the water was going to get any calmer if we continued walking. We were out of option. I told the student with the canoe that she was going to have to cross the river on her own. Shouting instructions, I told her to aim further up stream and straight across so that if she drifted with the current she might have a better chance of reaching us. Then we prayed and shivered while we watched her battle the river. She made without a hitch. I was so proud. The three of us piled into the canoe and I, bedraggled and shaken up by thoughts of what could have happened, led my soggy class down the river. On the whole, I must say that it was a good experience. The students learned what Huck’s life on the river might really have been like, we definitely bonded through the experience, and I learned that I can be an outdoorswoman when I have to be.

The Best Men

Wed, 14 Feb 2007 04:19:00 GMT

In honor of St. Valentine's day, I would like to present my favorite leading men from literature. This is about as sappy as I'm going to get.

5. Peter Pevensy (The Chronicles of Narnia) - ok, I know he's too young for me now, but he was probably my first real crush way back in elementary school

4. Sir. Percy Blakeny (The Scarlet Pimpernel) - What more could a girl ask for? The man is handsome, well-dressed, a knight, incredibly wealthy, and he likes to spend his weekends risking his life to save those in great danger.

3. Mr. Knightly (Emma) - I always debate over Jane Austen's leading men. Mr. Darcy always wins out, but Mr. Knightly is a close second. I appreciate his courage to be honest.

2. Gilbert Blythe (Anne of Green Gables, Ann of Avonlea, etc.) - Gilbert makes me happy. He's the boy next door, the faithful friend, and the persevering admirer.

1. Mr. Darcy (Pride and Prejudice) - I'm not sure how to sum up the greatness that is Mr. Darcy. He is a man of character. Although he is not great at playing the games of society, he knows who he is and is entirely confident in that knowledge. He is a loyal friend, a genuine person, and a man of deep thought and feeling. He is incomparable.

Girl Scout Cookies and Other Product Endorsements

Mon, 12 Feb 2007 20:12:07 GMT

Apparently this is the year of the more disciplined Maggie. I'm not sure if I'm all that excited about this idea, but I am making small strides and that has to be a good thing. So far, I have backed off my Diet Coke consumption to no more than one a week (this is huge if you know of my love for Diet Coke), begun the arduous hobby known as "running", and begun cutting back on my intake of carbohydrates. No worries, my friends I'm not going all-out Atkins, by any means. I simply decided that it was high time I tried to achieve a more balanced diet. Of course, I would make this decision during the festive season of Girl Scout Cookie Sales. No matter how hard I try I cannot seem to resist the Siren call of the Girl Scout Cookies. Not only is the taste of these delicacies irresistible, but I can't manage to say no to the eager smile of an enterprising young person. I was on a simple mission to exchange my Blockbuster Online DVD for my free in-store rental (yes, another shameless plug for Blockbuster from which I gain absolutely no profit) and who should meet me at the door on my way out but a uniformed, pigtailed youngster bearing tidings of shortbread and thin mints. Of course, I caved. But, in an effort to redeem myself I did bring the remainder of the cookies (whatever I didn't end up devouring over the weekend) to school with me today and pawned them off on very grateful students. So much for healthier eating. Shame on you Girl Scouts for taking advantage of my vulnerable state.

In other news, I may be in danger of becoming addicted to a new beverage, thanks to my students. Last week they offered to give me several cartridges of a powdered drink called ZipFizz. Apparently it is an "all natural" energy drink that is both powerful and tasty. You simply add the little container of powder to a bottle of water, shake vigorously, and there you have it, a fizzy fruity energy drink that contains 41,667% of your daily value of vitamin B12. That's right, in one bottle, you get enough B12 to last you a year. Good times. And all of this for only 5 calories! I am on a roll with the endorsements today. I should seriously be getting a kickback for this.

I will leave you with one more item for your consideration. I am in love with Ken Burns. No, not actually in love with the man, but in love with his work. For the small percentage of you who don't know (said with sarcasm), Ken Burns is an award-winning documentary filmmaker. About a month ago I used portions of his series on Mark Twain as an introduction to The Adventures Huckleberry Finn in my literature class. The series provided some incredible insights into the life and mind of Mr. Twain. I was so impressed that when I found out that Mr. Burns had created a series on the American Civil War, I immediately visited the library to hunt them down. Thanks to the beautiful Fort Worth public library system, I found the entire series. I realize that a documentary on the Civil War may not sound all that exciting, but allow me to convince you that this series is incredible. It is full of photos and illustrations from the period and integrates narration and original documents such as letters, speeches, advertisements, and journal entries read by famous actors and actresses to tell the story of the war. The result is that one gets to experience the Civil War through the eyes and the voices of those who were actually there and one has the opportunity to hear more than one side of a very bloody debate. I highly recommend this series to any and all history nerds! You know who you are.

Random Thoughts...

Fri, 09 Feb 2007 17:54:11 GMT

The entire world is sick. They closed a couple of schools in the area because of a flew epidemic. My students were hoping we would close the school today for the same reason...no such luck. Enough people are alive and well enough to push through another day. If only the weather would make up its mind and leave our poor health alone.

I'm slowly working through the Jack Bauer Story (also known as "24"). I entered the glorious world of Blockbuster Online. This means I always have DVDs sitting around, which makes up for the fact that I only receive four television channels at my house. I am on season 3 and I must agree with the rest of humanity that Jack Bauer is pretty much the coolest human being of all time. In an effort to intellectualize something that is purely an entertainment experience for me...I do feel like the show has given me a new perspective on the pressures faced by the leaders of nations. Don't get me wrong, I fully realize that the show is entirely fictitious and "a bit" over the top. However, it does cause me to feel a little more understanding for those who are put in the impossible situation of making difficult decisions concerning the preservation and the direction of a nation. Maybe that's ridiculous...I don't know.

The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn really is one of the greatest novels America has ever produced. It is profound in an unexpected way. At first glance it is so simplistic a child could follow it, but underneath this glassy surface, it churns in depths unfathomable. Twain questions every social convention, every accepted moral grid, every perspective and presupposition. Through the eyes of a young boy with sharp instincts and a curiosity of life, we are forced to question along with Twain. In this novel there are no villains and there are no heroes. There are only real people who's lives are flawed and whom we cannot bring ourselves to hate no matter what they do. The book is sad, joyous, and beautiful in a way that only reality can be.

I've started running this week. Note that I use the word "running" very loosely. It's definitely closer to jogging than running. In fact, it might not even qualify as jogging . I have always been the person that hated every form of monotonous exercise. Seriously, why would you do something painful and pointless for an hour and only end up being sore and sweaty afterwards? The only form of exercise I could ever get behind was dance. At least dance has a point and has artistry behind it. Having said this, as I have been unable to find a dance class that I really like or a gym that isn't gross or ridiculously expensive, I have decided to stop making excuses and just get outside and run. And, wonder of wonders, I find that I am beginning to enjoy it. Sure, it's still feels monotonous, but I enjoy the extra energy it gives me. Plus it is somewhat relaxing just to have some time alone.

Ok, that's enough random thoughts for now. Never fear, there are more where these came from.

Monday, January 29, 2007

Mon, 29 Jan 2007 05:53:44 GMT

My poor Xanga has been sadly neglected for the past month. It’s not that I haven’t attempted to write anything. I can’t count the number of times I have clicked on the seemingly unassuming “New Weblog Entry” link only to find myself entirely at a loss for words as I face that white void. It’s also not that I haven’t had anything pressing on my mind of late. On the contrary, there have been a plethora of thoughts flooding the airwaves in my head. Unfortunately I simply seem to be hitting a roadblock in the process of transferring these thought into language. So, until I can find a way to overcome this roadblock, I’ll have to leave you thoughts that are somewhat outdated. Here’s a journal entry that I wrote near the end of December. Please take it for what it is worth and don’t be put off by the gloomy overtones. It is undergirded by undeniable hope…

Journal Entry: December 27, 2006

“I am a little disappointed with Christmas. Somehow I feel that it has let me down when, in reality, any inconsistency between my expectations and the reality of the past few days has nothing to do with anyone but me. Perhaps last year, far away from the trappings of the holiday, I idealized the season in my mind. I remembered all of the festivities, warmth, closeness, and beauty of Christmas and, through the rose-colored glasses of distance and memory, it was transformed into something pristine and breathtaking. Now, back in the place where these memories were born, the reality seems dull and lifeless next to the figments of my imagination.

“But, perhaps it is even more than this. Last Christmas, when all of the lights, colors, scents, places, and faces of Christmas were stripped away, I was forced to reexamine the holiday. I felt, for what might have been the first time, the actual meaning of the day. It is a consistent truth in my life that, whenever I am forced to part with the crutches of blind tradition and unquestioned principles, I come one step closer to Truth. It is as if a small hole is formed in the paper-mache façade and, for but an instant, I see through it all and catch a glimpse of the face of God. But, no matter how beautiful the glimpse, I always miss the façade…or think I do. Perhaps the Truth frightens me more than I care to admit and I hope that, if I can replace the façade, I will be protected from its terrifying beauty and things will be as they were before. But they never are. I cannot fool myself, no matter how hard I try. I can see through the counterfeit now. Christmas has truly lost its magic. The lights are simply lights, the traditions are simply charades, and the colors are every day colors. I hope this realization does not transform me into Mr. Scrooge. On the contrary, I hope that it challenges me to search with all of my being, to cast aside fear and delve deep for genuine, hard-as-diamonds Truth that may break me but cannot fail to dazzle me.”

Home

Fri, 22 Dec 2006 01:32:39 GMT

Exactly one year ago I was halfway around the world mourning the horribly lonely prospect of spending Christmas away from my beloved family in a country that doesn’t officially celebrate the holiday. During this time and for most of my time in Thailand one of my favorite songs was “Home” performed by Michael Buble. Don’t get the wrong impression, I wasn’t miserably homesick. For the most part I was entirely content and thrilled with where I was. But every time I heard this song it made me think of my home and I felt a twinge of pain knowing how far I was from the people I love the most. So, here I am, a year later, wonderfully close to these people, preparing to celebrate the beauty of Christmas with them, and yet…

A couple of days ago this same song inexplicably sprung to my mind and as I sang the words to myself I was surprised to feel that familiar twinge of pain. “Why would this song bring pain now? I am home,” I asked myself. It was then that I realized with stunning clarity that I was homesick for Thailand. The thought caught me off guard. Certainly I had missed Thailand before but this was the first time I realized that it too was home. This led me to question where home actually is for me. After giving it some thought I realized the sobering reality that Texas is home, Oklahoma is home, Thailand is home…and yet, at the same time, none of them are home. It is my belief that the more places one learns to call home the less any one of them can actually be home. When you adopt a home, you invest a piece of you in that place and, while you might leave and invest in a different place with different people, a part of your heart will still be in the previous place. That old place can no longer fully be home because you have picked up the pieces of your life and invested them in a new place. Yet the new place is not entirely home because there is a piece of your heart missing.

And so, while I am thrilled to be spending one of the most magnificent times of year with the people I love the most in a place that will always be home in some way, this Christmas there will be a part of me in Thailand and that part will hurt in spite of all of the joy I feel. Merry Christmas, Thailand!

"Home"

Another summer day
Has come and gone away
In Paris and Rome
But I wanna go home
Mmmmmmmm

Maybe surrounded by
A million people I
Still feel all alone
I just wanna go home
Babe I miss you, you know

And I’ve been keeping all the letters that I wrote to you
Each one a line or two
“I’m fine baby, how are you?”
Well I would send them but I know that it’s just not enough
My words were cold and flat
And you deserve more than that

Another aeroplane
Another sunny place
I’m lucky I know
But I wanna go home
Mmmm, I’ve got to go home

Let me go home
'Cause I’m just too far from where you are
I wanna come home

And I feel just like I’m living someone else’s life
It’s like I just stepped outside
When everything was going right
And I know just why you could not
Come along with me
That this is not your dream
But you always believed in me

Another winter day has come
And gone away
In even Paris and Rome
And I wanna go home
Let me go home

And I’m surrounded by
A million people I
Still feel all alone
Oh, let me go home
Oh, I miss you, you know

Let me go home
I’ve had my run
Baby, I’m done
I gotta go home
Let me go home
It will all be all right
I’ll be home tonight
I’m coming back home