Oscar, Oh Oscar

I'm a movie snob.

I'm sure that doesn't come as a surprise to most of you. I say this as a caveat to the arrogance (or perceived arrogance) that might follow in this post. You see, when people talk about movies it drives me crazy. When people misquote movie information it drives me crazy.

The worst is when people are exiting a movie theater and have post-cinema banter. It -- drives -- me -- crazy.

I'm remembering to breathe.

But alas, here in late winter, most of the world is buzzing with Oscar talk. At this time of year, this old crone gives most movie gabbers a reprieve because movie talk is inevitable.

Yes, it's Oscar time.

I think what drives me insane about public opinions and Oscars is that people are clouded by favoritism. Of course you want your favorite movie to win because it's your favorite, but how unbiased can your opinion be if the only Oscar nominated movies you've seen are Avatar and Up? Avatar does not merit the highest cinematic awards simply, "Because it rocked in 3-D" or because, "The blue smurf-cats got it on!!!". Well, maybe the latter is sufficient justification.

When people talk about movies I roll my eyes. I sit erect and assume a look of casual superiority. I know, I'm a snob. I do appreciate, however, the way that movies can elicit such strong feelings from people and be objects of such contention. It's such a subjective medium that any film can be the best film of the year for a multitude of reasons and which people are more than willing to argue about.

Perhaps that's why people want to fight for their movie -- to prove that it's the best. But movies are locked in a boxing ring, slugging it out for top honors. Movies speak for themselves, they speak to our experiences and our emotions and reveal a lot about who we are. They don't need Joe A-hole exiting the Kerasotes on Western pontificating why Transformers 2 is the bitchin'-est movie of all time.

All I'm saying is movies need to have their own story -- let's let them speak for themselves -- I'm talking to you Joe A-hole.

More Nostalgia?

It's funny that when you're living life you don't immediately think that these are the moments you'll be nostalgic for.

I remember in college when life was a blur of booze, fast women, and baked goods (well, mostly the latter), I never stopped to think, "In five years I'm going to yearn for this feeling of reckless irresponsibility". Yet as I think back to all my friends and all the feelings and emotions, I do wish I could have an ounce of those feelings back. Back when we were all a little silly, a little frantic, but ultimately a little closer.

Now I look around and my friends are, no joke, doctors, lawyers, business people, journalists, public servants, and people working to survive. The current of life sweeps in and drifts people apart. Who knew we'd be where we are now?

All I know is when I stalk my friends on facebook I get this pang in the deepest recesses of my heart for the way things were. But I know those feelings could never be recreated. I cherish those times and recall them whenever I'm feeling lonely.

Christmas Homecoming

Before my voyage to San Antonio I liked to complain about how I was not looking forward to visiting while in the back of my mind, I was actually quite elated. I would complain to friends and passersby of the warm winter and obligatory family functions, but I was secretly anticipating both.

So when I touched down in San Antonio, in the balmy 65 degree weather, I had a facade of ambivalence but in my heart, feelings of warmth waiting to burst forth. In my 24 years of life, everytime I came home for the holidays I always felt like a child -- to be coddled and catered upon. For the very first time, I felt as if I were an adult, coming home to a life that seemed so long ago. The environment had changed little, imperceptibly so. The sights, sounds and smells all rang familiar. Time seems to have soldiered on with the only hint of evolution being the massive highway system that seemed to have been erected in, well, no time at all.

As the days went on, however, I realized that there have been small bits and pieces that were different, but not in the fast-food landscape (the Whataburger still stood proudly on DeZavala and I-10), but within my own mindset.

When I came home I, due to woeful negligence, had forgotten pajamas to sleep in and I had no back up. While riffling through the discounted novelty t-shirts at Walmart I realized that this had never happened to me before. Unfortunately, when transplanting my life 3,000 miles away I had forgotten to leave a sliver in San Antonio in case I needed it.

While growing up, I had always thought my family was excepted from bad circumstances. Sure my mother suffered from some medical issues but we would always make it through. My dad, though flawed, would always have the uncanny ability to fix a problem (or at least take it off my hands). Money, while an object of contention as to whose hands it should be in, was never a problem to procure. This time, however, I saw that all the exceptions I perceived were not there. My family was just as ordinary as anyone else's.

As I ponder the lives that have developed from the Lim household I wonder if they are what my parents expected when they started a family some thirty years ago. I can still remember being seven years old, the age of the students I teach, and not knowing or even thinking about my life twenty years later.

I've been thinking a lot about what it means to be an adult. Does it mean coming 'home' and realizing you don't have a spare set of clothes to change into? Is it noticing the scraggly gray hair that wasn't there last year? For me, it's something far less tangible. It's a switch that remained dormant for so long that, when it was finally clicked, caught me off guard. In many ways, I still feel as though I'm a child, kicking and screaming as I'm dragged into the world of grown-ups, but I know that it's inevitable no matter how hard you try to put it off.

A Tale of Two Good Mornings

At a school with a staff of nearly 50 I'll be honest -- I do not know everyone. I remember as a student in high school thinking that all teachers knew each other and were best friends. Perish the thought that Mrs. Cheney had no idea who Mr. Player is! Mr. Lim definitely does not know any of the adult denizens of the third floor (let alone the students).

Which brings me to the topic of this somewhat whistfully nostalgic post. In the mornings there are two types of "Good mornings" -- one proclaimed with an exclamation and a smile and one uttered with a period and a whiff of obligation. Of course it would be rude and awkward to slink by staff members (guilty as charged) but it's an interesting dichotomy speaking good morning to people that really have no idea who you are or what you are doing in an academic setting. I have difficulty grappling with the notion that I'm an adult (am I really?), and I feel like someone is going to figure that out. I'm going to turn the corner and someone's going to wise up and say to me, "Wait a minute, you're not supposed to be here!" and chase me out of the building.

Alas that day has not come. I've come to realize that a 24 year old moderately experienced teacher pales in comparison to some of the raucous cacophony in some of the classrooms.

Here's to hoping no one puts me as a priority.

Erratic Musings of a Semi-1st Grade Teacher

It seems like ages ago that I was lamenting over the lack of a stable position. I whistfully toyed with the idea that, somehow, things would work out and I would be in a school. Secretly, though, I was more scared than I had been a year ago when I was unplaced and a newly minted teacher. Back then, I had inexperience as my crutch.

Now, I have a resume of promises that I hope I can keep.

I admit, everyday I'm thankful. I'm thankful to be placed, thankful for where I am, thankful for all of the experiences and tribulations that have led me to the point that I am. It's a bitter pill to swallow as the medicine is going down, but like all prescriptions, they're doled out in order to produce a positive outcome.

I feel as though I'm in a position now, in a true 1st grade, where my skills will be put to the ultimate test. I've been handed a task to elevate students to the level of their peers and I pray I have the faculties to do them justice.

Another year...

I begin this post by saying that this is probably the coldest birthday I've ever had. Gone are the days of dripping sweat while blowing out candles -- hello 60 degree weather.

As the minutes tick past midnight and my birthday becomes a fleeting memory, I think it's easy for one to become somewhat pensive about the year gone by. At this very moment, lying in bed, I think it's quite interesting that I have difficulty pinning down specific horrible memories but instead am flooded with the warm thoughts and well-wishes of my closest friends and family. I think about all of those that consider me their friend and I, in turn, consider them the same. I am quite fortunate to have such a wonderful group of people that I can count on through all of the trials and tribulations that life sometimes has to offer.

As the clock continues to tick forward, my thoughts wander to birthdays' past and the hopes and fears that accompanied each mark forward.

This year, as much as any other, is full of anxiety, fear, wonder and hope -- and who knows what will befall these 365 days before me.

Summer finale!

And what a summer it was!

After watching Julie & Julia I had lofty goals of being one of those blogs that people talk about -- but unfortunately I don't have quite the same gimmick of Julie Powell. It seems that people mostly write blogs about things they know about -- their lives, and mine is no different.

So let's play catch up. What has happened since those days of late spring filled with tears and pain? Well, I've certainly lived the past three months with reckless abandon -- traveling the country and trying desperately to escape the life that I had led until this moment.

It seems as though all good things must come to an end, but not as one might expect.

At the end of the past school year, my position at my old school was not renewed. After spending 9 months cultivating a relationship with my school, I was not to return in the fall. A mixed blessing, to be sure, and one rife with a variety of emotions. I was thrust into a job market that is rapidly dwindling and my options sorely lacking.

Here we stand, 2 weeks and 3 days from the start of the school year and I still do not have a position. I'm filled with an incalculable amount of anxiety and fear coupled with a shred of hope -- hope that I can make this year better for myself and the students I will teach.

I think in writing this blog, I might not be able to cook my way through Julia Child's tome of recipes, but I've learned so much writing my thoughts here. I've learned that I'm truly a hopeful person -- and one day I may cook my way through some of those classic recipes.