Today and Yesterday
I remember a lot from my childhood, surprisingly. Perhaps it was not that long ago, and that is the reason. We were a family that loved each other, but were not steeped in traditions, at least not the traditions that other people have, steeped in culture and generations of practice. Our traditions include tamales and enchaladas for christmas dinner and going to the visitor center at anza borrego state park to watch the same wildlife video from the 70's again and again.
My personal favorite out of all the family standard outings, was the coveted test drive of new vehicles, and the related and equally great visit of model homes in newly built housing tracks.
In these houses, they always had everything already set up, like some phantom family was already living there. Plastic tvs and computers in bedrooms, lavish furniture and plastic appliences in the living rooms and kitchens. I loved looking at the houses. I loved that it was looking into someone else's life, and imagining what mine would be like if I lived there. I looked at each room that way, what we would put in there, who would be over to see it. I remember being amazed the first time I found out that most people went to these model home tours with actual interest in buying one of the homes.
My family's intentions with test driving cars was very different, and usually with a much more serious purpose. I am sure when my father got behind the wheel of one of these vehicles to test drive, he was seeing how it handled, what the mileage was, what his visability was like. I wanted to see how much room I would have in the back seat, what the cup holders were like. Could I deal with long rides in this car? I would most definately be in it for at least two hours every other weekend, picking up my half sister in oranage county. In this back seat we had to share urban legends and ghost stories, passing them on as fact. We had to have places for our Squeeze-It bottles (that we called beers) and our juice bottles with the large caps, where we would pour the juice into and sip quickly like a shot, afterwards saying "ahhh whiskey!" Test drives were fun, different. Full of that possiblity, fitting this new machine into the fabric of my life and my memories.
Lately, on good days I've been feeling those feelings again. All that change and excitement and possiblity, happening at the same time. I am trying out a new identity and seeing how it fits. In some places like a glove and a few places not at all. All the same, these last few challenging weeks have lead to this breaking point, where I almost have no choice but to be confident and satisfied that I am doing my best.
As I was leaving the high school on Friday, I passed by one of the other English teachers that has taught there for the last five years or so (who, also happens to be quite hot, by the by) He said hello and asked me how things were going. I sighed and smiled and said "I'm surviving." He laughed and replied "I'd say I'm about the same"
I really have the impression that we both meant that in the most positive of ways.
My personal favorite out of all the family standard outings, was the coveted test drive of new vehicles, and the related and equally great visit of model homes in newly built housing tracks.
In these houses, they always had everything already set up, like some phantom family was already living there. Plastic tvs and computers in bedrooms, lavish furniture and plastic appliences in the living rooms and kitchens. I loved looking at the houses. I loved that it was looking into someone else's life, and imagining what mine would be like if I lived there. I looked at each room that way, what we would put in there, who would be over to see it. I remember being amazed the first time I found out that most people went to these model home tours with actual interest in buying one of the homes.
My family's intentions with test driving cars was very different, and usually with a much more serious purpose. I am sure when my father got behind the wheel of one of these vehicles to test drive, he was seeing how it handled, what the mileage was, what his visability was like. I wanted to see how much room I would have in the back seat, what the cup holders were like. Could I deal with long rides in this car? I would most definately be in it for at least two hours every other weekend, picking up my half sister in oranage county. In this back seat we had to share urban legends and ghost stories, passing them on as fact. We had to have places for our Squeeze-It bottles (that we called beers) and our juice bottles with the large caps, where we would pour the juice into and sip quickly like a shot, afterwards saying "ahhh whiskey!" Test drives were fun, different. Full of that possiblity, fitting this new machine into the fabric of my life and my memories.
Lately, on good days I've been feeling those feelings again. All that change and excitement and possiblity, happening at the same time. I am trying out a new identity and seeing how it fits. In some places like a glove and a few places not at all. All the same, these last few challenging weeks have lead to this breaking point, where I almost have no choice but to be confident and satisfied that I am doing my best.
As I was leaving the high school on Friday, I passed by one of the other English teachers that has taught there for the last five years or so (who, also happens to be quite hot, by the by) He said hello and asked me how things were going. I sighed and smiled and said "I'm surviving." He laughed and replied "I'd say I'm about the same"
I really have the impression that we both meant that in the most positive of ways.