Author Archives: olivia

Sep 07 2012
1 Comment
Life, Teaching

Hopes & Dreams

I remember when I first started substitute teaching at a small private school in East Sacramento six years ago.  Watching all the emerging personalities, I could imagine futures. A balding accountant, a ferocious attorney, a sleek, high-paid consultant. Not only would I see their future professions, but I could see their adult personalities. Most were type A, focused, driven.

As a fresh-faced college graduate, they often complimented my Urban Outfitters apparel, then asked why on earth I would want to be a teacher. They could not possibly understand why I would settle for such low pay to work with children, even though they were children themselves. Clearly, their expectations were shaped by other measures than job satisfaction.

I can’t remember my exact response. Quite honestly, I probably still agreed with them to some degree. I never thought I’d be a teacher, let alone an elementary school teacher. I still thought I had to put my name in lights or make a fortune to be happy. Substitute teaching was my source of income while I lived at home, applied for jobs, auditioned for ridiculously doomed independent films. Travel show host, filmmaker, actress still topped my list. Lawyer had just been scratched on account of the brutal realization I did not want to sign the financial aid papers.

Of course, that was me then. Three years behind a desk making decent money but unhappy left me daydreaming about those same kids. Somewhere along the way, I realized teaching elementary school could be an incredibly rewarding and challenging profession. Which brings me to today, gluing my students’ colorful clouds with their hopes and dreams next to their pictures.

Now I am the leader of a much more eclectic bunch. Many of their dreams are big, creative, out of this world.  Not only that, but many of them want to be teachers. Reading their hopes for the future this afternoon, I could not help but grow teary. In their words, I hear myself. So many future teachers and writers in my room. You know, in addition to other things, like famous dancers and video game makers…

Putting up this wall of hopeful words was the highlight of my week.

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Sep 06 2012
9 Comments
Life, Teaching, Writing

Blogging While Tired (BWT)

I think I have a new rule to add to my guiding principles for blogging…

Blogging while tired may be almost as bad as blogging while drunk.  I feel like I need some sort of little indicator that warns me to just give up and walk away. This week has been exhausting, not sure why, hasn’t been a bad week, but I’ve been beyond tired.  The last post I wrote took me what seemed like hours and I still was not able to really say what I wanted– had to go back and do some little cleaning last night, but even then, was too tired to really tackle it.

Then there have been all the other topics I’ve wanted to write about– a child referring to Mitt Romney as “A bad, bad man,” like a predator or the boogie man, while I tried to keep an unbiased, straight face, the less noticeable beauty of the sunset through the roof and tree-lines of the valley, (as opposed to the majestic unobstructed views shared elsewhere), an acceptance to the kind words/blogging award given over at Talkin’ Shit.  But, even today, my brain is just too tired to really piece together a meaningfully intelligent or humorous post.

So, instead, a decree.

No blogging while tired.  And, when I mean tired, I mean really tired, like when you have to read your sentences five or six times to make sure they make sense, (and then you still sit there scrunching your face at the screen, uncertain if you succeeded, allowing way too much valuable time to disappear into the black hole of the internet).

Too bad I’m already breaking my own principle. Hard to stay away. Must stop rereading sentences even if I can’t tell if they make sense. At least I can say I’ve never blogged while drunk… Although, can’t promise it would be much different.

Too tired to think of a whole post worthy of this picture, but I was struck by the reality that the sunset is only a tiny snippet of the sky where I live down in the valley.  Probably why I don’t notice it most nights… Still gorgeous last night though, the result of thunderstorms and smoke/smog/I really have no idea.

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Sep 04 2012
12 Comments
Life, Writing

Stop Chasing Unambiguous Happiness

Driving home this evening, listening to NPR describe “Why We’re Happy Being Sad,” I could not help but reflect on the concept of unambiguous happiness.

I am arguably obsessed with understanding happiness.  After all, my book is titled Expecting Happiness, the Happiness Project inspired me to start writing, and I have been chasing happiness in one form or another since childhood.  Many of us have, right?

That’s the thing.  Chasing happiness makes it sound unattainable, which is untrue.  I just think NPR touches on something real.  Most of us have a complex type of happiness.  In fact, I can’t think of anyone I know personally who doesn’t.

Maybe that’s the secret, stop chasing unambiguous happiness.

Putting it on my list of things to do.

For now, a little more ambiguously (un)happy music.  I have a thing for songs where people shout “Hey” this week, be warned.

And, I have a soft spot for these bookstore-recorded, rawly emotional gems, (probably because they were recorded in a bookstore…):

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Sep 03 2012
13 Comments
Life, Writing

D-O-N-E (For Now)

Oh man, if I could count the number of times I’ve said I was done with my book in the past 6 months, well, I guess I would feel like a liar. But, seriously, this time I mean it!

Six full times through on my own, seven readers, eight if you include myself. 69,536 words. 184 single spaced pages. D-O-N-E.

I’m not allowing myself to read it again right now.  I’m of the opinion I could make subtle changes to my words for centuries. I’m ready to ship this bad boy out and get started on something fresh, something new.

So, in the spirit of publicly decreed focus, here is my remaining to-do list:

1. Format the sucker. You know, double spaced, indents, all that fun crap I should have been doing from day one of Nanowrimo.  You live, you learn.

2. Write my generic query letter to be tweaked per agent. Oh yeah, and I guess write a synopsis too.

3. Enter my last line edits from my two superstar remaining readers.

4. Send the beast out, (starting with the 31 agents I compiled last May).

5. Wait, hope, wait, start something new.

There you have it, a plan, a little excitement, a little trepidation, a little self-doubt, a little self-congratulations. A little of everything really.

I know in reality, if it’s ever going to be read by a larger audience, it’s not done, it will have more editing, more rewriting as it moves through the various states of either traditional or self-publishing. But at least for today, it’s D-O-N-E.

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Sep 02 2012
5 Comments
Family, Home, Life

Weddings: Korean Pop & Fleeting Moments

Yesterday was wedding day. Not mine, but a good friend of Alex’s got married, and I also attended the bridal shower of a friend in the morning. I was honestly a little nervous to attend both because I can be shy when I don’t know people, and in this case I only knew the bride at the bridal shower and the groom (through Alex) at the wedding. However, I’m beginning to think the shy Olivia is mostly gone.

The lovely bride-to-be on our brunch cruise

The bridal shower was great– I bonded with the bride’s sister-in-law-to-be and one of the bride’s good friends from San Francisco. We’re already in cahoots to plan a bachelorette party complete with choreographed dance moves from my current obsession, “Gangham Style.” I tried reposting this video once before, (and it’s gone super viral since then), so you may have already seen it, but I’ve taught myself the ridiculous horseback riding move. Cracks me up every time.

This video was actually a source of bonding at both events. At the wedding, I was strategically seated next to a librarian, which was good thinking. Turns out a librarian and a fifth grade teacher are automatically friends. Then you add in a little “Gangham Style” and it’s a party.

Yesterday was a really good reminder that sometimes the things we dread, like social situations where we don’t know many people, can actually turn out to be a lot of fun. I, for one, need to give myself more credit instead of assuming I’ll feel uncomfortable. The other reason yesterday was great was because it reminded me why I like weddings so much.

I know people complain about extravagance and silly customs, but I think weddings and all the parties that come before are wonderful. We live lives that go by so quickly, filled with so many every day moments that are incredibly meaningful when stacked together. Weddings give the appropriate time to pause and reflect on what all this means.

Even though I did not know the bride or groom very well, I was touched. Listening to their stories, the speeches given by the most important people in their lives, I thought of the most important people in mine. I love the symbolic act of coming together as a community in honor of love and family, even if in many ways it’s just a fleeting moment, like everything else.

Photo booths are my favorite wedding craze at the moment. One of Alex and my first dates was to the state fair as teenagers where we took pictures in a photo booth. Laying these pictures side by side shows 12 years captured. Man life goes fast.

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Sep 01 2012
8 Comments
Family, Life, Teaching, Writing

What do you see when you look in the mirror?

How often do you actually stop to look at yourself in the mirror?  I mean, really look at yourself?  Of course, I’m being rhetorical here, I’m not begging you to respond with an exact answer, I just realize that most of the time when I look in the mirror, I look past myself, checking just the details to make sure I’m presentable to the outside world.  I look without seeing myself, if that makes any sense.

Once in a great while, I actually stop and look myself in the eyes and have this weird moment of connection where I think, I’m that girl, the one with the long brown hair, the one who goes to school to teach children, the one that’s married to Alex and loves to write and travel.  I get that we are so much more than who we are on the outside, but sometimes, making that connection to our physical self grounds us in the reality that we’re here, living life, present.

I was just working on my book and this memory of looking in the mirror and seeing the future came back to me.  At the time, I was an economic analyst in Berkeley, but I knew I wanted to escape. Each morning I walked to work past an elementary school and I wished I was walking there instead of to my cube.  Sometimes, I would look in the long mirror in my office bathroom, and I would see a teacher staring back at me.  That probably sounds odd, but truly, I would look at myself and think, that girl is a teacher, not a cube dweller.

Reflecting on this now, I cannot help but wonder whether truly looking in the mirror is a more powerful tool of self-discovery than we realize.  I know it’s a commonly used phrase to take a long-hard look in the mirror, but I’m beginning to think it has some actual meaning.  Today, I still see a teacher staring back at me.  But, she’s also a writer, a traveler, and a much more alive human being.

As much as Photo Booth can make you feel like a teenager making duck faces for Facebook, it also provides that mirror snapshot. The chance to capture yourself and ask who you see.  I asked myself these same questions the other night after work, laughing into Photo Booth while my husband gave me funny looks from across the couch.  It was one of those rare moments I actually stopped to look at myself and I saw a tired, but happy teacher staring back at me.  When is the last time you stopped and really looked?

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Aug 31 2012
6 Comments
Dogs, Family, Health, Home, Life, Pets

The Skunk Saga, Part III

Last night, as I was making dinner, Alex took our dog for a walk.  When he returned, he announced a skunk sighting next door. This skunk was no baby skunk like the neighbors on the other side spotted.  This was a full-grown, Simon-sized doozy, (at least that is how Alex described it, I’m still skeptical this is possible).

That should have been our warning.  Not to mention the neighbor telling us that once a week or so he sees a skunk walk up the street, through his driveway, and over to the side of our fence.  Like I said, should have.

Fast forward to 1AM.  I’m blissfully asleep, Alex is still awake, a typical Thursday night.

“Babe?”

“Huh?”

“Simon got sprayed again.”

“Shit.”

So, it happened again.  The sneaky monkey realized we only stop him from going outside when he barks first.  He used to bark before he slipped out the door to chase something.  Now he moves like a quiet little ninja.  I’m not going to cause any trouble, just headed out to relieve myself, that’s all, I promise, see, I’m not barking!

Now, I know what you’re thinking.  We need to block the dog door at night.  But, here’s the thing, our cat likes to take the cap off for him pretty much as soon as we put it on.  She’ll just walk by, dismantle it with her freakishly nimble paws and return to whatever it was she was doing inside, not even bothering to go outside.  Alex’s weekend project is a lockable pet door.

Anyway, good thing we finally bought the big bottle of skunk shampoo this week to get rid of his lingering odor from last time, (one dip in the family pool last Sunday and he was back to his stinky self). Forget all that other natural stuff.  Buy the skunk shampoo and use it if you ever need it.  I take back any other advice I gave in previous posts.  Coconut oil will still mask it between baths, but this is the best for diffusing the smell.

Duh. Skunk shampoo. Why in the world did we think all the other crap on the internet would be more effective?

Back to my story.  It’s 1AM, I have 5 hours of sleep left, a tiring week, and here I am, wondering why Alex woke me up to tell me Simon got sprayed by a skunk.  Maybe I’m not the nicest person when awakened in the middle of the night.  You were already awake, great, here is what you need to do: grab gloves, a mask, a towel, remove the carpets from the bathroom, wash him, leave him in there. Have fun!

This time I was not getting my hands dirty.  Already did that.  Too bad I woke up feeling a little mean.  Sorry, Alex, you’re amazing, thanks for taking care of that ridiculously nauseating business (mostly) on your own.

Still, I can’t help but feel proud we now know how to quickly and effectively handle the middle-of-the-night skunk fire drill.  The fallout was much less devastating this time, although our house smells a bit again and he’ll need another bath this weekend. Here’s hoping lightning, or skunks, don’t strike thrice.

This time around he looks, dare I say, comfortable in his post-skunk state. Thanks skunk shampoo…

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Aug 30 2012
9 Comments
Family, Life, Teaching

Love is Truth

There is this one little girl in my class who writes me notes and draws me pictures almost daily. Last week, she drew a picture of me, Mr. M., and our son. I am neither pregnant nor have I ever indicated any desire for children to my students. Still, she drew our son and labeled him, your son, the king. I walked away thinking, does she know something I don’t?

Today’s picture left me equally unsettled. It was a picture of me with the words Love is Truth printed across my body.  Randomly deep words that clung to me for the rest of the day. Up until last week, her drawings never had these messages. They were always of the simpler You’re-the-best-teacher-ever variety. Now they’re cryptic, little fortunes hidden in brightly colored scenery.

Chances are, these words are just an expression of her affection. But to me, they’re oddly wise and prophetic. Love is truth. When I first read this, I smiled, caught off guard by her wisdom. Sometimes, in the middle of everything, distracted by the bustle of a thousand little unimportant things, unexpectedly deep words carry more weight.

Thank you, child. Love is truth, I agree. And, if I have a son first, I’ll think you’re able to see things I cannot.  Or, then again, maybe you have just been paying more attention than usual at Sunday school and are confusing me for the Virgin Mary.  Either way, your messages give me something to think about.

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Aug 27 2012
4 Comments
Life, Writing

Tiny Beautiful Things

We live in an oddly connected world.

The image above inspired me earlier this year, surfing Pinterest for some little piece of motivation to put on my blog.  I didn’t know where it came from, but I liked it, so I included it in an entry.

Then, this weekend, a friend gave me Tiny Beautiful Things, promising I would relate, telling me how it moved her soul one little story at a time. Intrigued, I began reading the second I got home. The author, Cheryl Strayed, also wrote a book my stepmom has been devouring, Wild, a personal account of traversing the Pacific Crest Trail, alone, female.

Making the connection, I was even more compelled to read, so I started from the beginning, savoring each and every word, even though my friend told me she jumped around as she went. The book is laid out as advice column entries from Dear Sugar, an online advice forum, and I was quickly sucked in by her honest, deeply emotional, unafraid words.  The first entry that really got me was about when Cheryl, or Sugar, worked with high-risk youth.  I felt like she was one of few people that could truly understand my job, my exact feelings, my own journey, I was sold.

Then I got to a letter she wrote in reply to a young author.  While the young woman who wrote to Sugar/Cheryl was a bit more dramatic than I consider myself, she touched on the same feelings of disappointment in not instantly becoming this amazingly, out-of-this-world, spectacularly accomplished writer. Sugar’s advice made me want to cry because it felt so true and gave me so much hope.

She told the girl, “The most fascinating thing to me about your letter is that buried beneath all the anxiety and sorrow and fear and self-loathing, there’s arrogance at its core. It presumes you should be successful at 26, when really it takes most writers so much longer to get there… And the kindest thing I can do for you is to tell you to get your ass on the floor. I know it’s hard to write, darling. But it’s harder not to. The only way you’ll find out if you “have it in you” is to get to work and see if you do. The only way to override your ‘limitations, insecurities, jealousies, and ineptitude’ is to produce… Write like a motherfucker.”

And, there it is.  That little quote I liked so much a few months ago but had no idea of its origin. The universe brought me the answer, because truly, everything is connected.

Cheryl Strayed has a voice much like Anne Lamott, raw, human, accessible.

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Aug 26 2012
6 Comments
Family, Life, Travel

Seek Out Sunsets

My brother has a ritual.  No matter where he is or what he is doing, he must stop and watch the sunset every single day.  The first couple times I was around for this, I thought, really, we have to wait until it is all the way down?

But then I watched him, sitting on the hillside, the magnificent display of colors in the sky as the sun slipped beneath the coastal mountain range off in the distance, and I understood.  Watching the entire sunset every evening is an act of gratitude to life and this amazing planet we inhabit.  It is so easy to forget to look at the sky, to miss its daily beauty, a show put on for us two times each day in case we miss the first.

This summer, when we were in Kauai, every evening was a celebration of the sinking sun.  Cars and people would stop, where ever they might be, pulling off the road even, to watch the entire show.  As the colors grew more amazing, more people would arrive, and soon there would be an audience of strangers brought together to witness the beauty of the sky, a certain surreal joy felt by locals and tourists alike.

That’s when I decided my brother belonged in Kauai, a place where people stop nightly to watch the setting sun. But, maybe it’s not just my brother that belongs there.  Maybe we all do, or rather we deserve to live a life where there is time and willpower enough to stop and enjoy the show as part of a greater community.

To me, seeking out sunsets is symbolic of something much more profound– it represents a commitment to being present in a world that pulls us all directions at once.  I thank my brother for teaching me this and look forward to tonight’s setting sun spent with family.

One evening in Kauai, we stumbled across this overlook where locals go to watch the sunset from their cars.

Another evening, another Kauai sunset, everyone drawn out onto the golf course to watch the show, children dancing, playing, a heightened sense of presence, alive.

I regret not stopping and taking in every last moment of this gorgeous dropping sun on the Oregon coast.

Last one, my family’s backyard. Proof the sunset is beautiful everywhere, especially at home.

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Aug 26 2012
2 Comments
Family, Home, Life

Sunday Song

Sunday is childhood, the changing seasons, school the next day, family breakfast, homework, falling leaves, apple hill.  Sunday is family, newspaper scattered in different sections throughout the living room.  Sunday is walking the dog the long way round, potatoes with garlic and bell peppers, the sofa with my manuscript, yoga pants, dog squished up against me.  Sunday is a couple hours’ solitude.  Sunday is a drive up the hill for dinner outside, one big family, laughing, crying, together.

Sunday is life without tomorrow, life with tomorrow, life now.  Sunday is sacred.  Sunday is old and new, happy and sad, nostalgia and duality.  Sunday makes me hold on tight to everyone I love.

Sunday is family.

 

 

 

 

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Aug 25 2012
2 Comments
Family, Life, Teaching, Writing

Blogging Rules To Live By

A wise reader suggested I set guiding principals for my blog as my filter for what I publish.  It is all too easy to write whatever is on my mind, letting this become a space for emotional release instead of a platform to base my writing.  I have to remind myself, this is not a journal, it’s a blog with a higher goal.  Tangents are alright, alienating critical audiences is not.

Accordingly, here are my three guiding principals:

1.  Write with the ultimate goal of traditional publishing.

2.  Write in a way that will not betray my loyalty to my school and/or students.

3.  Write without compromising my relationships with friends and family.

Simple.  Right?

Who knew blogging was so layered with goals and audience awareness.  Still, it feels good to verbalize these principals.

Happy Saturday!

Above all, family first.

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