Feeling Behind in a Day Ahead
I am a bit of an NPR junkie. Strange, because I used to just roll my eyes whenever my mother had it playing as I was growing up. I don’t really remember listening to it (except Garrison Keiller’s Lake Wobegon because I recognized the small-town vibe—and I was better than average); it was mostly background noise. But about the time (1995-96) of my first teaching job in north central Washington, I started switching it on every now and then. I don’t remember why—maybe it was one of the few stations I could get in my apartment. I remember being excited when I found NPR programs on the Armed Forces Network in Korea. By the time I moved to Alexandria, Virginia, just outside of D.C., it was about the only station I listened to in car. And then 9-11. When I was at work, I didn’t really understand what was happening. I couldn’t get the NPR station in my office, so I was just listening to some other station. And it was scary. After the Pentagon was hit, D.C. basically evacuated—all highway lanes were heading out. People were calling the radio show with all sorts of rumors of other places blowing up—FBI, bombs in trash cans. Someone called and said they saw a plane in the air, and someone else was practically yelling “Why don’t they shoot it down?! Shoot it down!” I didn’t go home until 6 or 7 that night (anyone with kids left as soon as they could). I had the TV and radio on all evening. When I was too tired to watch anymore, I still slept with the radio on all night—I did so for the next week. Since then, I’d say NPR is where I’ve gotten at least 90% of my news from.
We don’t have a National Public Radio station here—at least not a nation that speaks my language. Fortunately, I can listen to everything I want online, and I have almost 30 public radio podcasts on my iPod that I try to keep up with. Believe me, I am really grateful for this. Still, I feel a little behind. Morning Edition is not on when I wake up. It’s the middle of the night for Steve Inskeep and Renee Montagne. So I try to start my day by listening to All Things Considered from the previous day. Even though I’m ahead, I feel behind.
Mostly, this really doesn’t matter. I don’t need up-to-the-minute updates on the economy, business, the wars (good thing, because they don’t get much coverage lately), entertainment, etc. But when it comes to the presidential election? It drives me crazy! I can’t stand listening to predictions about the upcoming debate, knowing full well it took place already. I’ve been waking up before T., coming to search the Internet for video, stories, analysis of the debates. I couldn’t even do that for the vice presidential debate—I was up at 3 am watching that one live. I wish I wasn’t this obsessed with it. It matters not if see it first thing or hear about it later. My vote has been cast for a month.
This week, I’ve been thinking “just one more week, just one more week.” But then I realize that I won’t know diddly on November 4! Polls won’t even be open on the east coast until, what? 1 pm over here? Arghhh! Of course, if I were still in Georgia, I wouldn’t know anything by that time either, but I would at least know people were voting that entire time. I’d be able to just stay awake with the TV on, watching as state by state turned blue or red (please, let it be more blue). As it is, I can’t see how I’ll be able to sleep the night through. I expect to be huddled in my bathrobe in front of the TV and clicking away on the computer at 2 am, 3:30 am, 4:00 am. I just hope we all have a definitive answer on November 5. And I hope that this constricted feeling in my chest gets the chance to release instead of get worse.
On a more joyous note, T pooped in the potty (finally, I know!) for the first time last night. Happy birthday to me.
Jobless
Or maybe I should say unemployed, to be more accurate. I always have a variety of jobs to do, but am not currently being paid (monetarily) for any of them.
I think before we came, I was pretty sure I'd be able to get another teaching job. Now, I realize that people get those jobs here and refuse to let go. Actually, it seems that regardless of the job, people take that approach. And now that I'm here, I can honestly say I don't want a regular teaching job because I know how it takes over my entire life. Right now, I am only stressing about budgeting our money and deciding/trying to find some employment. When I taught, I was stressing about EVERYTHING--each class, each student (not all at once, thankfully), each extra five minutes I spent trying to create a lesson, grade a paper, call a parent (over and over again, trying multiple phone numbers), buying groceries, planning meals, making meals, getting T to bed on time, wondering why Hubby wasn't calling to say when he was coming home, doing laundry, etc., etc. Of course, any working mother feels these things; I know they're not unique to me. But not having those stresses is not hard to get used to.
However, feeling unproductive is. (Which is good, I suppose. It would be truly sad if I was satisfied with feeling unproductive, right?) And, of course, there is always the money--or, rather, the lack of it. And so, the last few days have seen me polishing my resume, considering volunteering (which might eventually lead to a paying job), and wondering what I might reasonably be able to find to do.
I went to a tiny job fair today, and am now feeling depressed about my prospects. No one even wanted said resume. Applications are on line, for piddly positions, and for waiting lists for such positions to even open up. I know part of my problem, maybe most of it, is not really knowing what I want to do. I don't want to teach high school English (not an option I have anyway) right now. But other than that...? If I tried to write down the ideal job, rather than this nebulous idea swimming in my head, well, the response after it would be, "yea, right."
I want something that pays well, that keeps me busy while I am there, that engages my mind, requires some thought, some talent, that will look good on future resumes, that can be done between the hours of 9 and 3, Monday through Friday, that allows flexibility if an Italian adventure comes up, and that pays respectably enough that I can foot the bill for that Italian adventure without deducting a week's worth of groceries from the family budget.
Yea, right.
Pomegranate
When we moved in mid-August, I didn't realize that the three little round things hanging from our small tree in the middle of the yard were pomegranates--and I love pomegranates. Of course, when I did realize it, I was all the more tickled with my home in Italy.
The largest one seemed to attract several green flying beetle-ish bugs, and sadly, they did get into it. But I picked it last night, and was still able to salvage half of the seeds. T ate most of them, but the few I tasted were yummy. I think they were not quite as sweet as the ones I have bought in the supermarket, but the seeds were larger, and therefore, juicier.
A few weeks ago, I thought only one of the pomegranates would ripen fully, but the other two are looking better, despite their smaller size. I look forward to trying them out soon.
Garmisch
We just returned from a four-day weekend trip to Germany. We stayed in Garmisch, situated right next to Zugspitz, Germany's tallest mountain. To say the place is beautiful understates the expansive feeling it gives. I'm afraid that my time here in Europe will tax my vocabulary. Venice is beautiful. Lake Garda is beautiful. Garmisch is beautiful. Well, duh.
Anyway, it was superb to be in the mountains, and we were really in the mountains. Fortunately, we had fall weather and the snow was limited to the highest peaks. Our days were sunny, around 65 degrees, and our mornings and evenings provided the chilled air that made wearing sweaters a treat. And the leaves were, I suspect, near peak color.
The drive was lovely, mostly through a valley filled with castles. We drove through Austria, right by Innsbruck, before leaving the Autostrada to climb a mountain highway into Germany. Right before Innsbruck is a McDonald's right off the Autostrada, which must have the most spectacular view of any golden arches around. The trip takes about 4 and half hours.
Friday evening we ate at a German restaurant. I should mention that we took this trip at the urging of our neighbors. Two of the five families in our courtyard will be heading back to the States soon, and this was a farewell celebration. Six different families made the trip to Garmisch, so it was a lot of fun. At this restaurant, there were eight adults and five kids (ranging in age from 20 months to 7 years). If this group had tried to have dinner at an Italian restaurant, it would have been a night of a 1000 dirty looks. Starting with this dinner, I could just feel the difference in German and Italian attitudes toward Americans. The Germans in the restaurant seemed to love us, especially when our kids danced to the accordian music.
Saturday was our favorite day of the trip. We rented bikes and took a 30 minute ride along the mountains to the start of the trail for Partnach Gorge. The hike was a mostly flat, skinny route along a fantastic gorge before opening up to more trails into the mountains. Some of the dropoffs along the way were pretty steep, and so T was a little nervous on the way up--I carried him. But on the way back, he was ready to go without me and we had his lighted sneakers to follow through the dark tunnels. By the time we reached our bikes, he was ready for a nap and fell asleep quickly in the seat. Hubby & I then took turns watching him while the other rode a super slide--it was like a bobsled half-pipe, with the flat seat that sat inside it. We had control of the brakes--I didn't have the guts to see how fast it went without them.
We spent Sunday wondering through town, but unfortunately, most places were closed. We got hubby's flannel green hat before driving back on Monday. We definitely want to go again.
Benvenuti
I will try this blogging thing again. I actually had one for about a week when I first moved to Georgia, but felt weird about it. I still have the weird feeling, like I am exposing myself and my family to the world, but I think only people who care about me will be reading this, so ok.
My house is a bit of a disaster right now. We finally received our stuff last week, and although I know I've made a serious dent into the boxes, one could not necessarily guess that by looking at the piles of clothes, books, etc.
T has started going to the asilo, the Italian preschool. He went last week, and I was very nervous for him, not knowing the language, having a bigger class of kids than he had in the States, being used to staying home with mom for a month and a half. But he did so much better than I could have hoped. He was excited getting ready, and when I told him he could ride his bike to school, he was ready to go. We had a few days of leg-hugging, but they were mild, and he went with the teacher pretty willingly. Each day I picked him up, his teacher (the one who speaks some English) told me he did really well. He looks so cute in his little grembiule, a jacket shirt that the Italian kids wear over their clothes. Having him go there has also made me feel more a part of the community, just walking there with everyone else.
We'll see how I do with this. I thought this would be better than monthly newsletter type things because I inevitably forget things, and people say the details of a place should be written about right after it is visited. True, I know. But I still feel like this is a diary online, and not too exciting to read.
Ciao ciao.
