It’s 2:30 pm and I’m still in my pajamas, which is probably neither a good sign nor an appropriate way to introduce myself to the world of TFA blogging (first impressions, you know?) BUT is nonetheless true. You may be wondering why, and the answer is…I don’t have a good answer. I’ve been thinking a lot about this sort of blurry thing going on in my life right now–post-grad, pre-institute. There are boxes of clothes and books in my room, waiting to be sorted, admonished to Goodwill piles (“You are NOT taking these [down vest, my favorite Bill Cosby sweater, navy blue keds, polo shirt from the little boy's section, all my race numbers from college, etc. etc. etc.] to Oklahoma! What are you thinking?” -My mother/various family members) or else gaining privileged access into my suitcase for Tulsa (and, by default, Oklahoma City, Phoenix, and then back to OKC). I’m checking Facebook like a madwoman, desperate to squeeze any sort of contact out of my college friends because 1.) I miss them terribly and 2.) I am notoriously bad at keeping in touch and 3.) I will be spending my summer in Pacific Standard Time next to a desert (I think?) and with approximately five minutes of free time per day to spare. I’ve been having weird transitional dreams: last night I cried and then ran around the fire escape of my college house with my friends from Italy. And of course I’ve been hardcore loafing around my house, sitting in different chairs, turning on and off the fireplace, playing with the remotes and stereo system that I haven’t touched in months, leafing through junk mail, you know, normal stuff, because I want to remember what home feels like. And then there’s the studying (simile, iambic penatameter, transcendentalism, gotchaaaa!) and the TFA reading (and accompanied DVD viewing, which has proved fruitfully entertaining seeing as I’ve watched each clip 3 times wondering if someone is ever going to film me in my own classroom and what exactly it will look like…for example what should I wear? Kidding, kidding, of course. Really I’m wondering what my students will call me [Miss J, ala America's Next Top Model? Miss Yarmosky, ala my mom? Miss Y, ala the rapper Elliot? Tough choices ahead!]. But again I’m joking. You’ll have to forgive my sporadic and, as of late, awfully dry attempt at humor. I’m transitioning, okayyy?). And finally, there has been much time spent doing absolutely nothing but trying to relax. My family is being ultra-helpful, I must say, in replacing their usual disgusted reactions to supreme laziness/stress (bad combination, by the way) with sympathetic favors and good food. Last night my sister rubbed my feet. I just wanted to write that so it will be permenantly embedded in the blogosphere of the universe because IT WILL NEVER HAPPEN AGAIN.
So I’m not really sure what direction this blog will take. In fact, you’ll soon realize (if you haven’t already) that when I sit down to blog about something, I generally have no idea what I want to say. This makes for an interesting journey for you, does it not? I foresee this turning into a cornucopia (just wanted to see if I could spell that word…) of blogging nonsense, taking a rather predictable form depending on the current month:
June (Tulsa/OKC): Open discussion about why nobody wears cowboy hats in the Northeast and whether or not rodeos are cruel.
July (Phoenix): Proclamation on how hot it is and begging somebody somewhere to invent business-professional clothes that do not raise one’s inner core temperature to feverish levels
August (OKC): Obligatory first day of school post!!! (If I don’t fall asleep at five p.m.)
Well, that’s it for now. Thanks for reading, if you read it! If you skipped down and stumbled across this line, I’m impressed, but you probably won’t do very well in my class.