Advent Week 3: Joy

I have nothing to say on this topic right now.

I just figured since I said something about the other two, I needed to put a post here about this week. We don't really want me to get started on the topic of "Joy", now do we?

"In Case Someone Needs To Find My House At Night For Some Sort Of Emergency, Like Pizza Delivery" Tip #2

First, a side note. The last tip (and most of these tips) do not apply if have your house number painted very clearly on the curb in front of your house, have a mailbox by the curb with your house number in clearly visible (which means non-reflective) numbers on both sides (and the "door" of the mailbox, while you're at it), or both. These homes are very easy to find, and are a joy to delivery drivers throughout the world.

Now, the tip: Who cares if they don't look pretty; the bigger the numbers, the better--especially if you're not close to the street. Ain't tryin' to read inch-high numbers on a house half a football field away from me!

"In Case Someone Needs To Find My House At Night For Some Sort Of Emergency, Like Pizza Delivery" Tip #1

Don't use those script letter things, where the numbers are written out in script form.

Yes, yes, pretty, pretty.

Ain't nobody able to read the things from the street. You could have the thing spotlit with the 20th Centurly Fox searchlight, and people'd still be all, "What's that say? Scribbledy Scribble?"

Where Are The Anti-Anti-Coagulants?

Frabjous Day! Calloo! Callay!

I went to see Dr. Bowlin today after school. Guess what!?! I'm anti-coagulant-free!

Okay, actually, it will take a few days for the last few doses to leave my system, but I'm on the road to anti-anti-coagulation!

Also, apparently I have no major health issues, which is surprising, but I'll take.

Now, if I get a blood clot in my lung and drop dead, you read about it here first.

In other news, I zonked out on the couch in the sunroom and just woke up cold, sore, and... well, cold.

I'm off to bed, where I will NOT take a pill (or a pill-and-a-half) before lying down!

Hooray!

On Peace (On Dancer! On Prancer and Vixen!)

Wow. So, apparently my post last Sunday frightened at least one person. I didn't think it was like 100% negative. I'd done it mostly as an exercise in emotionless observation of my life (not that I need to exercise that particular muscle, but I flexed it anyway).

Got to see Jen and her son Emmet tonight (and I hope I spelled Emmet right). Jen's funny as usual, and I probably should go see her in the MCM&VCo. show. It's on the list.

This week in advent the theme is Peace... or the... something... is Peace. I don't know if it's a theme, or what.

And I realize that a) lots of people have it much worse off than I do, and have children to look out for on top of it, and b) who cares about my life and woe, when I could be sharing a funny story or something, but...

Wait, that reminds me: I still need a laffline for December. My traditional December homepage isn't up, because I don't have a December laffline!

E-mail me if you have one for me.

Anyway, Friday was bad. I mean, I thought the Friday before last was bad, but apparently my life is an experiment in one-upmanship between misery and woe.

I kid. But Friday was very bad. By the time I got home Friday night--no, even before I got home, but definitely more so after I picked up the mail, etc.--anyway, by that time, I was just wanting to crawl away and never come out to see the light of day. It's a good thing I don't know where any liveable caves are around here.

But, thankfully, what sitting under the tree won't cure (not that I tried that, because I was worried I'd fall asleep there and have all sorts of back issues in the morning... and also, I'd be so depressed if it didn't work), sleep will help.

Does everyone else have that reset button that gets hit with a good night of sleep?

Whatever, I woke up with some perspective, and with what passes for a positive outlook in my brain.

Also, Jin called early in the afternoon and asked if I could close, which equals more money, which equals... you know the drill.

And the fact the other person who was supposed to close sorta flaked and I had to deliver all by my lonesome for the last few hours didn't really bug me, because, again, money...

Boy, do I sound like a slave to the almighty buck or what?

Which is fair...

So, anyway, church was good, and the theme or whatever was Peace, and the talk was about the message of the season... or messages of the Advent season, and I thought back to Friday and realized that I don't understand Peace very well, but I sure would like it. The Peace that comes from getting a blanket and moving into a dark, dank cave, and never leaving it again. The kind of Peace that passesth understanding--which explains why I don't understand it very well.

It would just be nice to--have things just be nice, I guess.

And I had to wonder if I really do any good in the world, which was also part of the problem on Friday. I don't mean that in a... wah kind of way. I just mean I wonder if I do any good with the things I do. I feel my teaching suffers when I'm working so much, and I'm probably not off the mark there. And then there's beyond the "doing good" of teaching. I wonder, do I at least manage to do more good than harm just in my day-to-day life?

There needs to be a website where you could look that up. Nothing complicated. Just a pie graph, maybe. You can select what color to make the "good done" part of the chart, and the color to make the "bad done" part of the chart.

Then, adjust your life as fits.

Peace. I don't know. I think it's a great concept. I'm all for it. I've got some on backorder, methinks.

Anyway, this holiday season is kinda gonna stink for me, as I will not be giving much (okay, probably not anything) in the way of gifts.

This is probably where all this blah blah blah negative Ned stuff is coming from.

Well, bah humbug on that. I've got my lights, and that's something.

P.S. to the Board of Public Utilities: Please do not cut off my electricity until after the holidays. Thanks.

Ah, Yes... This Is MUCH More Familiar

Well, Jin called the cell yesterday afternoon and left a message saying he'd meant to schedule me for Thursday, Friday, and Saturday evening.

What, I'm just gonna say, "No, I want to have some down time" or even just "Sorry, I've already made other plans" or something?

But last night, when I finally got home, (but early for a Wednesday... it was 6:--something or so), I sat down by the tree and tried to get some sort of good picture. The holiday music was doing its thing, and I got distracted by the pretty lights and music. And it was good.

I mean, there's lots of good, don't get me wrong... or don't read some of these posts and think I don't know that. I do. And indivdually-blinking lights on a tree (especially when there's holiday music playing)--that's one of the good things. Between Thanksgiving and January 6th, anyway.

So, anyway, I got to work tonight. Hooray! I'll work tomorrow and Saturday, too. And the up side is, I have income I hadn't been planning on! Hooray!

Upon hearing I was working after all, a VERY GOOD FRIEND said (and I think it was meant in the same tone as Anna Nicole might have said to that rich elderly man she was married to, "I wish you would just hurry up and die"), "I wish you would just win Powerball."

Yes, you and me both.

I May Be In Bed By 10:00!

As I listen to the washer do that "final spin" thing, I'm thinking I may be in bed and asleep by 10:00!

Woo-hoo!

Hope everyone is having good times. I went to the post-concert dinner tonight an had a good time. I'll have my Tuesday nights free (read "I'll be delivering pizzas on Tuesdays now, hopefully") now!

G'night!

Yes, It Could Be My Imagintion (And Probably Is)... BUT... I May Be On The Verge Of Something

So, what a great night. I get to work (late) at P.J. and learn that I'm scheduled for ONE--count 'em--ONE night this week. And I don't even close.

Granted, it will be nice to rest some more, and not be so tired and just... at the end of every rope I've ever had.

However, the man is trying to bring me down, and I need some money to keep him slightly at bay.

So, there I am, taking my first delivery and generally feeling miserable about things, but also thinking about some other issues I've got going on based on a post-service conversation I had yesterday.

I get to my destination, walk up to the place, and as I get to the elderly woman standing in the already-open door, this smell wafts over me that has to be experienced to be believed. It was coming from the house, not her, I'm fairly sure. I described it to the folks back at the store as the smell of someone having eaten cat dook and then vomited it up. But I didn't say "dook."

And, what bit of the... and I'm kinda going out on a vocabulary limb by calling this place a house, but, here goes... what bit of the house I could see looked very much like, "let's hammer up some things to serve as shelves here on the drywall." Also, I think at least one person in this dwelling was dealing with some sort of severe mental challenge.

So while I'm in the doorway, and the elderly woman is signing the credit card receipt, I'm mostly thinking, "Please let me get away from the door before I hurl." This was due to the smell, not the decor.

When I turn and am returning to my car, however--and after I glanced down and noticed I didn't get a tip... and was subsequently surprised to learn I didn't particulary mind about that--I was struck by this feeling of... something.

It sorta branched out from the thought, "Getting out of that doorway was all the tip I needed," and went into this whole... I don't know what to call it.

My next thought was along the lines of, "There's a message here, and you're stupid not to see that." Of course, was the message, "Hey, you think life is awful, but you could be doing much worse," or was it, "This is what's next for you." I mean I wonder that now. At the time I felt it was a lesson in the former, not a warning of the latter.

And this put me in the mind of some things from the talk yesterday... I mean Talk, not the lower-case kind. Something about being ready and open... or maybe "open" is my word. Anyway, I just about had a flippin' mental breakdown in the car.

Yes, I know: I'm crazy.

But here's the thing. I just have this feeling that I'm on the verge of something.

Okay, here's a related story from my college years. When I was in Directing class, there were something like 7 or 11 or 13 directors in the class. I can't remember for sure, but I'm fairly sure it was a prime number. Anyway, after auditions with all the Basic Acting students, we all sat around Kim's desk in his office and sorta haggled over the actors.

We had come to what--at first glance--seemed to be a deadlock of sorts. Everyone had someone they just had to have, but had a sort of, "Well, if I could have..." exchange they would be willing to make. But, as I said, on the surface it didn't seem to match up.

But then my brain did this thing... and I don't know how to explain it, exactly. I just sat forward in my chair suddenly and--seriously--commanded everyone to be quiet. I don't know how else to say how I said it. I think sorta... let my brain connect the dots for a bit, and then I just pointed to each person and said, "You get so-and-so, which means you can have so-and-so..." and so on until I'd given everyone one of their choices. Then I stopped and asked, "Does that work?"

Because, you see, I wasn't even sure I was right about it, even though it sure FELT like I was right. But, also, we Riggs kids seem to have an overabundance of self-doubt.

And it did work. It was crazy.

So anyway, tonight I felt that. Or recognized I've felt that for a while. Not quite the "sit up, lean forward, and speak in a commanding voice" variety, but maybe about four or five levels below that.

I don't know what--if anything--it means, but here's hoping it means I've worked out some winning Powerball numbers, eh?

Hope and Hopelessness

Today's talk at church was about hope. Okay, about hope and other stuff, but apparently this week of Advent is about hope, so I'm going to say the talk was about hope.

It was almost too much for me to take in at once, but then again, I have a short attention span.

What was I saying? Oh yes. Hope.

Anyway, it reminded me of the summer before last when I heard Rita Pierson speak. I fail to remember exactly what she was saying, but it was something about things humans need, or something people in poverty need, or... I don't remember. On this list was the word "faith", and she said something along the lines of "I don't like to use that word, because I know it puts some people off," and she's right, it does. I know this for a fact.

Face it, some people have just ruined the word for others of us. It comes with overtones of smugness, judgmental behaviors, and about 57 other negative things I'm not going to dwell on here. My personal thoughts on the word have changed now, but, depending on who is using it, it can still hold those overtones.

Back to the point, after she said this, she went on to say something along the lines of, "I choose to use the word 'hope'". She explained that one thing that is needed for... whatever it was she was talking about... is the hope that things will get better. A belief that they will, in fact. (Which means "faith" is a better word, but still, overtones.)

So, at the time, I was very much like, "Oh, okay, I have that." That's because, at the time, I only thought life was as bad as it could get. Little did I know.

Now I have to wonder if I have hope any more. I mean, I know I do, because I seem to have this insane amount of it. Crazy insane amounts of it. (As opposed to the other definition of insane, Mark?) I have this hope in me that something will change. I'll sit down and do something that turns my life around. I'll meet the right person, say the right thing, do the right good deed, and--presto!--instant turned-around life.

And then there's the rest of me that looks around and sees that this hope is getting me exactly nothing except disappointment and... well, more disappointment. And this part of me is totally devoid of hope.

Yes, yes, I'm one person. I get that. But I'm one person both filled with hope and hopelessness. The two must not be like matter and anti-matter, or I would have exploded by now, right?

I do live in hope that I'll get my life together. I live in hope that I won't be working two or more jobs the rest of my life. I live in hope that my life will be longer than a few more years. I also live in hope that my life isn't too long, because getting very old can be messy and expensive, and here I can't even afford being 39.

And I live with a part of my head saying, "Dude," (I don't know why this part of my brain says "Dude," but I just heard that in my head when I thought it) "look around you! You're gonna be working an extra job until you're dead, and at the rate you're going, that's not so far down the road. Give it up!"

I mean, to be honest, the other part of my head responds with a, "Oh, shut up." Usually, anyway.

Here's a for-instance (also known as an example): Friday was not the best day on record for me. Just when I thought I'd robbed Peter enough, Paul came up with a thing or two I'd forgotten about. I don't have the finances right now to get the blower fixed on my car, so I've resolved myself to wiping--or scraping and wiping--the interior side of my windows while driving down the road. It took a crazy amount of time to find a parking place downtown, and I ended up having to fork over $5 for that. This was after forking over $18 and some change for my tux cleaning. These seem like small amounts, but see the earlier bit about Peter & Paul for clarification.

I'm in the dressing room lamenting these and other facts aloud when I notice my tux shirt, which had been missing one of the buttons on the left cuff, was now not missing that button.

You would have thought it was the miracle of Christmas. I was joyously announcing to everyone that either the cleaners thought they lost the button and thus replaced it, or they were just nice folks, as there was not an additional charge for the button. I then realized how stupid I sounded, having just gone on about how life is just too much, only to be thrilled to death that I got a free button sewn on my tux shirt.

So I had to throw in a sarcastic, "This is it, things are definitely turning around for me!"

Oh, I'm sorry... you were expecting some sort of point?

No, none there, really. Just reporting that I'm just as confused as usual, and it's thanks to the 800 people in my brain.

Also, to report that Andy scored with a timely talk today.

That is all.

Life, Laffs, and Late Entrances

First, if anyone can remember a good laffline for my site, I'd appreciate it. The only one I can remember right now isn't very good for December, so I'm wanting to save it for January.

We had two snow days in a row. I'd like to report I got much more done around the house than I actually did, but instead I am reporting I only got some stuff done.

Final Dress was to be Wednesday night, but it was postponed to Thursday on acount of an ice storm of sorts. Thursday's Final Dress was cancelled due to the snow storm. So, final dress was actually the Friday performance.

Which is important, because I had yet to leave stage during Act II, change from my Act II costume into the Solo outfit, get my mic on, and get back on stage.

So, as I'm backstage, rounding the corner where I could stop and get some water which I desperately needed before picking up the mic that I forgot to bring to the dressing room, I realize it's now a choice, if I don't want my entrance to be late. I told Santa to be prepared to vamp.

Thanks go to Martin City Melodrama & Vaudeville Company, by the way, for teaching me to deal with a time crunch.

I figured saliva was gonna have to do the work, because--even though I don't necessarily need it--I needed to wear my mic. Mostly becausee, even though I could probably make myself heard, it would sound odd when every other soloist had a mic.

Apparently nobody noticed my throat was dry, because I got compliments on my number afterwards. I have some sort of built-in mechanism to always think I don't do so well, and having a dry throat made it doubly hard to overcome.

However, I've learned that "Thank you" is a powerful tool when dealing with many things. Compliments you feel you may not deserve, expressions of sorrow at the death of a loved one, and so on.

Then, getting back into the Act II costume, I encountered several problems, and wasn't able to make it on for the finale. Tonight I'm just going to stay in the solo outfit and come on for the encore. Also, tonight I'll be exiting the stage at least one song earlier.

On show days, at least when I have a solo, I tend to not eat after noon. This means that at about 10:40 or so when I get home, I pretty much need a meal. This, in turn, means I must stay up a few hours before hitting the sack.

And this, in turn, meant I was in no mood to wake up when my alarm went off this morning, and thus didn't make it to the hanging of the green at church this morning... or at Ben & Tricia's.

At any rate, my holiday stuff is almost all up (got the tree finished yesterday), and I'm getting all kinds of rest--one might even suggest I'm getting too much rest.

Hope everyone is having a good life these days. E-mail me if you have a good laffline. You might want to check out my laffline page for the guidelines... if there actually are any.

I'm Thankful for My 100th Non-Blog Post!

Hello there, everyone, and welcome to my 100th non-blog post.

First, a confession: I did not go out of town for Thanksgiving. I fully intended to, but Leslie called on Monday night to say they weren't really having a dinner and all that, and I figured I don't have the gas money anyway, so I stayed home.

Now, those of you in the KC area who might take offense that I did not dine with you, please realize I'd had about 15 "If you aren't doing anything else" invitations, and who can remember who asked first, and plus, I'm just tired and wanted to spend some alone time.

I did eat this SmartOnes turkey meal that I found in my freezer, so I didn't go turkeyless. And I got some decorations up, and even some cleaning done.

I considered going to the meal at what, for lack of a shorter term, I'm calling my church (actually, it would have been shorter to just type the name, now that I think of it), but then I realized I'd need to shower, etc. Also, I woke up very late that day.

It's been a nice break. Next week I have rehearsals galore, so no pizza delivery (which means no pizza delivery money... hooray!). It's almost like having free time.

Anyway, I wanted to share my Thanksgiving confession with the world. Thanks for understanding.

What I Have To Say

You know, driving around delivering pizzas gives me plenty of time to think of things, and often I think, "That's what I need to post on the non-blog about."

And then, by the time I'm home I'm too tired to bother, and by the time I'm not too tired to bother, I've forgotten all about it... or at least all except for the fact I'd thought of it.

I know I have a rant/friendly lesson on how to put the numbers on you home, and what things to consider when you do this. But I'll save that for later.

I used to have a little tape recorder I could use for this, but I think it might be in the city dump now, as a result of the whole Great Basement Clean-Out of 2005. It would come in handy now, as I could rant into the tape recorder and post the edited rant later.

Anyway, I have many thoughts that aren't making it here. So there.

Hope everyone is having a wonderful life. I'm a great-uncle again. Zachary Cade Leake (I'm guessing on the spelling and I STILL haven't gotten an e-pic yet of him) was born on November 2nd.

It's almost time to put up the Christmas decorations! Hooray!

Wah.

Okay, that last post reads much more bitter and angry than I'd intended. Or much more "Wah" than I'd intended.

And I certainly didn't mean to never ask me how I am, especially if you're actually wanting to know.

I just meant that it's fun and exciting to be working all the time.

I kid.

Anyway, wah me.

I got up early today to get some stuff done before another meeting, and while waiting for the dryer to stop, I thought I'd re-read my last post. Glad I did. What a bright start to the day that was!

Hope all is well in everyone's world!

But Other Than That, How Did You Like The Play, Mrs. Lincoln?

I had to use that for a title, because I love that line. I don't know who to credit for it, however. Google for "play, Mrs. Lincoln", and you'll see how there are many variations on the line.

I also choose it because it's sorta how I feel about putting an update on here. I'm working 1.75 jobs (or one full-time, one almost-full-time), taking nights off 1.5 days a week for other obligations, and Sundays off for my sanity.

Which translates to very little sitting-at-home-being-me time.

Also, I'm running a sleep shortage like you wouldn't believe. I get home at midnight or so some school nights and have to do laundry so I have a uniform the next night. Other nights I'm home at 10 and have to do laundry.

So it seems stupid to get on here and update people, as the update is "326th verse, same as the first".

I am getting a lot of think time. If I ever have a really long stretch to sit and write, I've got some GREAT projects worked out in my head.

Also, I'm almost getting bills paid.

Okay, speaking of bills, I need to vent (and update at the same time... two birds down, infinity to go):

Remember the flat tire? Well, I took it to Wal*Mart and there was the whole delay thing mentioned in the earlier post. I noticed when they were putting my tire on that they had to stop partway around and seemed to be having some sort of trouble, but then got over it and moved on. I didn't think much of it at the time, other than the fact it was making me even more late than I already was.

The next weekend, I've got a flat tire again. This was the tire I had just had put on.

I went to Wal*Mart. They tell me I'll have to wait four hours. I said, "To finish the job you started last week?"

Apparently so.

I go to a manager... actually, I go to the customer service desk, and I say, "I'm in a rush, so I need to go as high as I can go on the customer service chain without dialing a phone" and got a manager who pointed out that it wouldn't be fair for me to go in front of those people who got here before me, to which I replied, "They got here last week? Because that's when I brought this job in and you people failed to do it correctly."

He told me he was sorry, and I left, pointing out that he wasn't sorry, or he'd actually do something to rectify the situation.

So, hello Tires Plus.

After some waiting and a drive home on the donut to shower and change, I learn that Wal*Mart put the tire on a bent rim. This explains that trouble they had getting my tire on, but it's still a mystery as to why they wanted me dead. The Tires Plus mechanic was so wide-eyed I thought his eyes were going to fall out. Apparently this is an appling thing for Wal*Mart to have done.

So, I ask Tires Plus if they can get a new rim.

They said lots of words that basically came to, "Well, we can direct you to a place because none of us know who we call about rims."

Uh.. okay.

So I call Bowman, and he helps by making some phone calls for me on Monday. I give up when it seems unlikely and just call Tires Plus to see if the guy who knows where they get rims has made it in to work.

He has, and I tell him I just want them to get the rim, and ask how much, etc. He verifys my phone number, which was off by a digit, and so we presumably fix that.

Tuesday: No call. Rehearsal in the evening.

Wednesday: No call. Parent/Teacher Conferences in the evening.

Thursday: No call. Parent/Teacher Conferences in the afternoon. Work in the evening.

Friday: No call. After school lets out at 11:15, I drive home and decide to call and find out what the delay is.

I wish I was lying about this next part...

"Mr. Riggs, we need to know what type of car you drive in order to get the rim."

Um... see, theres' this thing I have (thanks Ruth) called a cell phone. You can reach me on it pretty much all the time (except during school hours). I gave them that number. I had not heard from them. And so, when I call on FRIDAY, and they mention they can't order it until they know what kind of vehicle I have...

And I was so tired of the whole... being awake and dealing with life thing, that I just politely told them what it was.

This reminds me, I need to call them after I'm done here. Maybe they'll remember me.

Anyway, in the meantime I have been driving around on a donut. That's closing Monday night, Thursday night, Friday night, an Saturday night.

I seriously don't know how much more this donut can take.

Meanwhile, I still need to call Wal*Mart and demand the money back for the incompetent manslaughter attempt or whatever they're calling tire changes at Wal*Mart these days.

But other than that, how have you been, Mark?

Hooray! Another Flat Tire!

Because life is too easy, it's always nice that small difficulties like this arise.

Yesterday, 4:20-ish.

I was due in to work at 5:00.

Luckily, I had my phone.

Got out of the tire place around 7:00.

Made it to work around 8:00.

Joy.

Dallas

Before the weekend of the 8th, the most I knew about Dallas was the Kristin shot J.R. and Bobby's in the shower.

My impressive singing powers (I kid) were needed in Dallas, so on the morning of the 6th, I took off in a carpool with a couple of other people whose voices were needed (along with about, um... fifty others).

The night before, Ruth left me a message that my cell phone had arrived (my first cell phone, which I wouldn't have if it weren't for Ruth). Of course, someone was fired at P.J., so I ended up closing, which meant I couldn't pick it up until the morning.

Oh yeah, and I'd be up for quite a while doing laundry.

Anyway, I picked up the phone, and it's good that I did, because before we got out of the greater K.C. area, I realized I'd left my digital camera on my front porch... in plain view of anyone who might think hocking a stolen digital camera might be a great second job.

So I thought of the one person I know who might have some flex time to go pick it up, and I called her. Tricia told me that Ben was near my house, and she'd call and have him pick it up. So the first half of that crisis didn't last long.

However, I do have that other blog where I take a picture every day. Luckily, Wal-Mart sells disposable cameras very cheaply.

But a camera with 27 exposures is not a digital camera with several hundred exposures. I had to be picky, and I had to be 4 to 12 feet from what I wanted to photograph.

The trip was long, but I spent it grading papers. And grading papers. And grading papers.

We arrived in Dallas around 6:00-ish, and got to where we needed to meet up with others around 7:00-ish. We ate at the original Black-Eyed Pea, so there was my sight-seeing for the weekend.

After dinner I met my host for the weekend. He was a nice guy who had a house far away from everywhere we needed to be that weekend, but I enjoyed seeing different parts of the Dallas area.

He had two dogs, and he used to have a cat. I think some tiny part of catness must have remained in his home, because the morning of the 7th I had very bloodshot eyes, which normally comes from my being around a cat. Good news: didn't happen again all weekend.

Saturday was a rehearsal day, and that night we did a sort of Meet-n-Greet. There was a comedian for entertainment, and in general it was a good time.

The concert itself was on Sunday. It was very stressful, because I was doing a solo and also singing music I wasn't as familiar with as I would have liked.

But it also kicked butt.

Of course, as fate would have it, one night (either Saturday or Sunday) I was in what I assume is the downtown Dallas area, and the harvest moon was framed by two big buildings... would have been a great shot with my camera. Oh well. Grr.

Monday was the drive back, and I can sum it up in two words: graded papers.

I think the people in Dallas must have found me very boring. I slept a lot. Grading papers tires you out.

Anyway, if I ever get these photos off this CD, I'll be able to catch up over at Still Life. I'm hoping tonight will be the night.

Update Haiku

I have been so sick--
One day better, next day worse.
Major sinus thing.

*Edited 9/18/06 for syllabic and health-related accuracy.

From Our "Heart on Sleeve" Department: A Poem

First Anniversary

by Mark Riggs

Hard to believe--a year has passed
Since that time I saw you last--
A year since I brushed back your hair,
And kissed your cheek, and watched you stare...

I know no reason for a pause
Except the Earth is where it was
The day our shared time here was done
(In terms of placement from the sun).

Twelve months have gone since our last scene,
And I've done nothing in between--
No deeds to make you swell with pride--
In these twelve months since you have died.

I've been on stage, and you'd have done
Your sotto voice of, "That's my son."
My average has shown modest gains
When throwing fifteen pounds down lanes.

As part of some confusing search
I find myself each week in church.
I wake each painful day and try
To heed your words: to laugh, not cry.

And laugh I do, but here's the thing:
You are not here to watch me sing
Or bowl or laugh or search or teach
or listen to my tales of each.

And here's a thing I know and fear:
In twelve more months, another year
Will be between then and new now.
Still, I should carry on somehow.

For you were gone before that day.
No laughing smile, no playful way
That meant my mother was still here.
Yes, it's been longer than a year.

So here's a plan of what I'll do
Until I get to be with you--
Well, assuming there's some after
When I'll get to hear your laughter.

Within my heart I'll keep a list
Of mother things--all sorely missed.
I'll cherish them--and share them, too
And that's my way of keeping you.

Three hundred sixty-five days and
I still wish I had held your hand
When I told you we understood
And if you had to go, you should.

Now I wonder if this aching
Means my heart will not stop breaking...
No more laughter and no more scenes.
No more grandmother in blue jeans.

No more face full of mother's pride.
No more feeling of joy inside
That came from being there with you.
It's been twelve months--and nothing's new.

I'm getting down--I should end this.
Just let me tell you that we miss
You being here. We really do--
Your children, and your grandkids, too.

In three hundred and sixty five
Times all the years left I'm alive
More days, I hope I can confess
I do not miss you any less.

(c) copyright 2006 Mark Travis Riggs

First Day of School

Today was the first day of school. The lead-up was killer, so I didn't get much done with that stuff I talked about in the last post... but I did start another blog.

Due to... well, lots of stuff, I guess... I was getting my room ready right up until (and while) the kids arrived.

As part of the craziness, I got to school this morning at about 4:50, and thought I wasn't going to be able to get in, but it worked out.

I'm dead tired right now. I'm excited about my new room, about this group of kids, and about the good vibe I've got for the year.

We shall see.

The First Annual "Wear Red For Patsy's Birthday" Is Next Week!

As some people may recall, I sent out a call for everyone to wear red in memory of my mother, Patsy, on September 10th and 11th of last year (we were having a sort of celebration of her life on the 11th, and her memorial service was on the 10th). I even encouraged sending digital pictures of yourself in red (and jokingly suggested holding up that day's paper) to my e-mail address. Peggy (who has commented on here before) and Rick complied with the newspaper suggestion, as seen here:
My friends at Martin City Melodrama & Vaudeville Company went all out as well, as evidenced by Jon, Jeanne, and the "actor" who portrayed Tiny Tim when I portrayed Bob Cratchett shown here:

Jeanne's husband, Dan, and their daughter Cassandra participated, although the daughter in question opted for a construction-paper outfit to go with her pre-photographed costume:

And, as you can see, the actor who had portrayed Tiny Tim was very shocked at the news that my mother had passed:

Another actor friend (who also sings) went all-out for the event. His name is T.K. Durham. Can you guess what type of music he sings? Here are three chances for you to figure it out:

I have other pictures (from the celebration on Sunday the 11th), but blogspot is getting persnickety, so I'll save those for later.

My point is, I've decide to make August 20th the unofficial "Wear Red For Patsy's Birthday"--a date where I encourage everyone I know to wear red in honor of my mom, Patsy. Red was her favorite color, and I figure it would be nice on her birthday if she could look down from Heaven and see a sea of red... and I don't mean the Red Sea.

I kid. Mainly it's just a way to recognize that I had a mother and she played a very large role in my crazy sense of humor... and really probably anything else about me that's crazy.

I'd like to somehow tie it in to the Alzheimer's Association or something, but I don't know how to do that, other than to encourage you at this time to maybe make a donation to them. But I'm not even sure if there's such a thing as the Alzheimer's Association. I know there are lavender ribbons.

Anyway, on the 20th, would you please wear something red for Patsy's birthday? I'm going to try to post some Fun Patsy Facts on here to share with people who ask you, "Why are you wearing all that red?" So it's like a party, only not.

Join us!