Musings

It’s sixth grade and my classmates and I arrive to art class. The TV is on and we see a burning building and the teacher is crying and we don’t do anything in class that day.

Most of us are pleased about the free class. Though we live in South Jersey, the World Trade Center is a far-off entity we’ve heard of but don’t really understand. It sounds important. But even as we try to enjoy the free period, we can’t ignore this sense that something is happening, that this isn’t just some tragedy in a place somewhere else. So we chatter nervously among ourselves and try to ignore that somber television.

Later, when the second plane hits and Ms. Heiser, whose daughter worked in one of the buildings, collapses and screams in the middle of class and my father, a newspaper editor, sits the family down to explain what he knows, I finally feel the hurt and fear of a nation and my 11-year-old self breaks down and cries.

In history that day, Ms. Moss had told us that we will never forget where we were, what we did, what was said on this day — the way our parents remember when John F. Kennedy is shot. And though I struggled to understand the scope of what happened on Sept. 11, I never did.

Packing

August 21, 2011

Musings

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On the last father/daughter road trip to Missouri:

Katy: (grumpily) I can’t wait until I cannot pack my life away into a car.

Dad: One day you’ll wish to God you could pack your life into a car.

And drive away.

That I can promise you.

Dear Jack

August 17, 2011

Musings

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Dear Jack,

I told you I’d write you a letter before you left for school. And here it is.

You probably thought it would be eloquent. And sappy. And full of epiphanies. It’s not. This is real advice from a sister who would do a couple of things differently if she could. I know you think I’ve turned into a boring old mom, but I’ve learned a few things, you see.

So listen up:

1. The first two weeks of college are very important. Everyone makes the fake friends they are going to hang out with for a couple of months before they find their real friends. We’ll call this the golden friendship window of opportunity. And guess what? It closes. Quickly. Which leads me to point No. 2…

2. Be nice to everybody, especially at the beginning. Seriously. There is going to be a lot of fake shit. Lots of “Hi, my name is Sally. I’m a nursing major and I live on this floor and what’s your name? What’s your major? Oh my god. Oh my god…” HUMOR YOURSELF AND PARTICIPATE. (Yours truly didn’t play this game so well) Be as friendly as possible even if it feels ridiculous. Because after two weeks people settle into friend groups and if you haven’t made any effort to talk to anyone you’ll realize that no one else but you is making any effort to meet new people. So don’t act too cool for school. Pun intended. (See Point No. 1)

3. You are going to go to college and meet people who have never gone to the beach and grew up in Hicksville and wear flannel and shit and you will feel 123123123x cooler than them because you come from an amazing place and have lived a wonderful beachy life and think you are awesome because of it. (And you are) And I know you are going to get to school and hang up the “Watch your children” sign you stole from the beach after the hurricane and wear your patrol gear to class yada yada. (And that’s fine.)

Share your life. It is, after all, what makes you, you and what makes you unique. But, essentially, while you are at school, that life is over. Be humble too. Don’t kill people with the I’m-the-beach kid act either. I guess the best way to describe it is don’t be like me and go to school and wear a big fuck you on your forehead because you think you are the coolest because you wear surf shop hoodies and your dad makes surfboards. Don’t let the place you come from own you. Be open to people’s different backgrounds.

Be present.

4. This one is sort of hard to explain, but I’ll try. Don’t feel limited or bogged down in your past. Don’t let it define you. Because you don’t have a past in college. And no one knows anything about you. And often I found people assume you are cooler than you are unless you prove them wrong somehow. Don’t not talk to a girl because in high school you don’t think you could have talked to her. Don’t not go out for some weird ass club just because it would have been weird in high school. High school is over. Kaput. Do whatever you want. Talk to whoever you want. Be whoever you want…

5. But do not ever, under any circumstances, lie about your past. And yes, exagerrating counts. This sounds like a no-brainer. But I promise, it’s surprisingly tempting, especially freshman year when it feels like every interaction is centered around having to define yourself. Don’t do it.

6. It’s okay to be disappointed. Or unhappy. Or stressed. College is made out to be this like amusement park ride of happiness and freedom, like the fact that your whole life has just been uprooted is supposed to be this seamless process. But one day you are going to have a shit ton of homework and you are going to crave an old friend. Or Mom’s salmon. Or your room. Maybe you’ll just really want to be alone. Or some stupid thing will remind you of the ocean or beach patrol or whatever it is that you miss the most. This feeling will suck. Just know that it is normal and everyone around you is carrying the things that they miss too.

7. If something bothers you about your roommate (that’s reasonable), tell them right away. It’s not fair to tell someone after months of living together that something they do bothers you and expect them to change.

8. I’ll keep this one simple. You’ve been drinking since you were 15. There is absolutely no reason why you should be that THAT freshman. The one who pukes in the community bathroom or is a newly liberated shit show. This unfortunately common species of frosh are pathetic. Leave amateur hour in high school.

9. If JMU has an improv club, you should join. You are the funniest person I know. Join lots of clubs, actually. It’s the best way to meet people that you might share something in common with. Check them all out. Quit later if its not feeling right. Then try something else. I didn’t meet friends in classes. I met them playing field hockey. Or swimming. Or in nerdy situations like journalism clubs.

10. Unless you plan on aceing a class, don’t skip lectures that take attendance. That being said (sorry mom!) don’t put up with classes that waste your time teaching things out of the book you can just read. Skip class and study that subject instead. (Or don’t.)

11. The rest of the world is not as sarcastic as us. This is disappointing, I know. But use sparingly. (You will thank me for this. I promise)

Love ya little brother. Can’t wait to see you across the deck when JMU and Mizzou converge at East Coast Championships 2012!! (Oh I didn’t tell you? Not doing swim club isn’t an option.)

Katy

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Maine

July 12, 2011

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The long and winding road…to the road less traveled.

July 4, 2011

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Paul McCartney and Robert Frost would have been proud.

A Little Patch of Paradise

July 1, 2011

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Maine, simply put, is paradise. But for some odd reason I don’t feel like talking about it. I’ve been in the state for about four weeks now and have plenty of adventures to show for it: Four lobstermen bought me shots in a bar. I live on a lake and have sunsets and kayaks and trails at my disposal. My job takes me all over Downeast Maine. But when it comes down to putting my experiences in words on this blog, I come up short. Even better, I don’t care.

Still, I feel slightly compelled to show something for myself, so I’ll be posting some of the work that I’ve written for work. Hopefully, it conveys a small bit of how magical it is here.

In the meantime, I’m getting lost in this world called Maine. (It just doesn’t embrace technology so much.)

Words to live by

June 27, 2011

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I can’t remember how old I was when my mom first showed me her quote book. I do remember I was young, younger than I am now and the book was hard-covered, floral-printed and slightly worn. Inside, in her strong, steady scrawl I saw neat lines of quotes, poetry, song lyrics. The book seemed to overflow with wisdom, bursting with words connected to experiences I had yet to understand.

My mom gave me my own quote book when I graduated high school. On that first page, she imparted a little bit of wisdom in the familiar script:

The purpose of life is not to be happy.

The purpose of life is to matter, to be productive, to have it make some difference that you lived at all.

Happiness in the ancient noble verse means self fulfillment and is given to those who use it to the fullest, whatever talents God or luck or fate bestowed upon them.

-Leo Rosten

It’s funny to look back and see what I have filled my book with since then.

There is evidence of my unfortunate phase as an emotionally, pining teenager: The words to Hey Jude, Fleetwood Mac lyrics, rewritten text messages that once made me smile…

…the result of an obsession with a modern poetry unit in high school:

We are things of dry hours and involuntary plan, grayed in, and gray … dreams make a giddy sound, not strong. -Kitchen Building, Brooks

…the most efficient description of Jersey folk I have ever found:

The New Jersey character — at least this part of Jersey — is straightforward, plainspoken to the point of bluntness, though not at all unfriendly… the humor is deadpan, ironical, playfully depreciating. Affectation is quickly and viscerally registered. -August Kleinzahler

Writing advice from Dad:

Get your character stuck in a tree, throw rocks at him, get him back down

And finally, this. The date I’ve written says December 2006. The quote is my Nana’s. I remember she said it in the hallway outside of our guest bedroom. Christmas had passed. (It would be her last one.) She was getting ready to go back to Cape Cod. I didn’t want her to go and told her so. She said: