I had an idyllic weekend, a nice little break from reality. My body has finally beaten out the sickness that had been kicking my ASS for two weeks, and I am starting to belive that the block schedule and extended day is not, in fact, a premonition of the apocalypse. True, there were several truly bad moments at school this week involving my “stolen” wallet [in the back of someone’s car]; racism in 9th grade Reading; and several stopped class periods due to frustration and/or the implementation of Read 180, but after 48 hours of absolutely no school work, I’m starting to finally look ahead to the future.
My graduate plans are in full swing, even if it’s costing me more than a small car; I’ve decided that intellectual engagement (however mediocre) is worth the money, and the classes are now at least relevant to issues that are in play in my class every day. Race matters, as I begin to understand more clearly every time I walk in the door and sign my initials on the time card at school. Serious, systemic, and dangerous instances of discrimination and inequality exist in so many parts of the country, and while I was exposed to this in theory during my time in college, I didn’t really “get” what it meant. Telling someone that there exist 15 year olds who read at a 3rd or 4th grade reading level is one thing. You may be shocked, you may say something about how it’s a travesty that the American public education system could have let a child slip through like that. What is entirely different, however, is seeing that child practice avoidance behavior when he is asked to read, “solving” his problem by abusing students physically and calling them faggots. Xenophobia, prejudice, and ignorance, are unfortunately not only the provenance of white society, and the inquisitive interest in all things different which was subtly taught to me as child is not the normal way of dealing with newness.
That said, it’s all well and good to talk about these things, address and deconstruct biases, but I’m ready to actually do something about it.
Moving on to less socially conscious agendas, I’m ready for my personal life to get off the ground. I am consistently dumbfounded by my relatively easygoing relationship. Each time that one of us travels back and forth from PHL to FLL, after every hug at the airport hello and goodbye, more delicate connections are made between the two of us. By now, hundreds and thousands of little stretchy strings pull us closer and farther apart as we go about our daily lives, and I truly feel that the past 6 months apart have made us so much closer. We’ve both had to honestly think about why we’re still together, what we want from each other, and what we’re willing to do in order to keep things going.
This evening, as we drove down the familiar 21 miles of 95 to the Fort Lauderdale airport, talking calmly about David moving to Miami this year felt so good. Having someone be a huge part of my life has been a gradual process, and sometimes when I think about just how much of me I share with him it scares me. I mean, if I couldn’t share my day with him, if he wasn’t part of my life, I’d feel like a chunk of me was literally taken away. It’s melodramatic, it’s illogical, it’s pretty unoriginal, but that’s the way that I feel. Starting to plan for two instead of one is interesting. It’s not easy, but neither is it bad. For the present, that’s all I’ve got to say about that.
For now, that’s also all I’d like to say about the future. I’d like to put off school, the rapidly encroaching FCAT, taxes, applications, FAFSA, and all sorts of real-world dilemmas and projects for another time, and spend a few sweet moments wallowing in my weekend.
My hiatus from life began on Friday afternoon, circa 3:35 pm. Fiametta arrived in the Central parking lot to sweep me off to the 27th Avenue DMV for my Floriday driver’s lisence. 45 minutes later, I left the ghetto with a legal state ID in my hand. My surname is no longer the irritating “Williamsen” from Virginia, and I’m one more step closer to completing FIU’s irritating paperwork. I ran off to the gym briefly, and then Dave and I ended up getting caught up in conversation for 3 hours straight, completely missing dinner. At 10:00 pm, hungry as hell, we whipped up a gourmet salad and perfectly blissfully simple penne with cilantro and garlic. I ingested far too much of the delectable goodness too soon before falling asleep, so I conked out into unconsciousness pretty damn fast.
Saturday began at a reasonable hour, a leisurely light breakfast after the feasting of the night before, and we headed off on a sunshiney day to Key Biscayne. It’s crazy tht there’s this whole little island 5 minutes from Downtown, a little island oasis of white/affluent hispanic suburbia. Luckily, there’s also beautiful state parks down there too. Our $4 parking fee at the south beach lot was more than worth it: ibises, sleeping terns, [I officially am becoming my parents], kite surfers, beach paths, and velvety sand kept us occupied for several windblown hours before we were forced to head back to civilization in search of sustenance. Craving seafood but seeing none, we settled for a late lunch at this crazy Argentinian place on Normandy called Vacas Gordas. I think we were a bit of an abberation to the serving staff since we 1. were white, 2. were not drinking alcohol, and 3. didn’t order meat. They thought we were crazy, but luckily the staff didn’t effect the taste of the food, which was stellar.
Also stellar was Saturday night. After a rousing game of scrabble to segue into the evening fun, we made Amaretto Angelfood cake for a midnight strawberry shortcake, then gave the Kitchenaid a workout with oatmeal cookies. It makes me so happy to share a part of my life that I love with the man I love. Grin. Cooking is fun.
When the other DPlace residents arrived home, we piled onto the yellow couch next door to watch “Start the Revolution Without Me,” and really, if you can finish that movie without feeling good, then you must not be human. Sigh. Good night.
On that note, as I glance up to the top right-hand corner of my screen to see 10:06 staring at me nervously, I realize that it’s time to wrap things up before the IMMEDIATE future kicks me in the rear. No plans for tomorrow as of yet, but hey, there’s always 5:30 am for planning. I’ve got to break that habit eventually. Oh well, in the future I’ll try to change that. =)