List #131: Never Trust Anyone Who Doesn't Watch Television

We're going to reach that casual part of the relationship, when dates together mean less time out in public and more time spent in your living room. And this is going to be okay. Our nights preferred to be spent with tea or wine and a book or let's face it, our favorite television shows. Even before we met each other.

So when we're sitting on the couch, sharing pizza or Chinese take-out or perhaps even my favorite chili, you'll recognize that I'm a little more Leslie Knope than I care to admit. My type-A personality is "just enough of a challenge," you'll say. And you understand that the reason why I cheer for Robin Scherbatsky is because I've got my own walls built. "Those old things," you'll say as you tap the bottom of my foot, perhaps not forgetting the the tiniest brush of touch can cause me to go into a fit of tickles.

We'll joke with each other about TV crushes. April, Ben, Joan, Josh. And not really care how geeky we sound.

And as the nights move on and morning starts to appear through the not-quite-dark-enough curtains in your bedroom, we'll move closer together. Finding spots in each other's nooks. Poking fun of the shows we don't share. And breathing in small sighs of happiness.

List #130: Morning Songs

When I finally stopped hitting the snooze button this morning and got out of bed, all I could think about was how soon I could return to it. I don't even like my current bed and am desperately waiting for upgrade with my new location this spring. But it doesn't matter how uncomfortable your bed is, leaving the blankets and the warmth is always a rough thing to do. But in reality, I know I won't nap this evening. My arrival home from work just past the appropriate napping time. So lazing away in bed for a few extra minutes is about as good as it's going to get until bedtime comes again.

And now that I'm in throwing myself into my morning routine, my thoughts keep wandering back to bed and the perfect songs for perfect morning lie-ins.

Single Girls ~ Laura Jansen

For those mornings when it feels both refreshing and a struggle to face the day alone again. Perhaps you don't even miss a certain someone, it's just daunting to think about putting on high heels and a smile to pay the bills and watch everyone else go on fancy vacations.

Here Comes the Sun ~ George Harrison

Appropriate to play just as spring is breaking through the icy shield of winter. When you can feel your world getting brighter and the possibilities of a new, less dark season are happening at sunrise. But also equally appropriate to play in the dark days of winter when salt is still caked on your shoes and you're worried about the next big snow storm. Literally and figuratively. No bed partner needed either. You can do this.

The Righteous Path ~ Drive-By Truckers

For those mornings when the day is already stacked up, odds not in your favor, before you're even out of the shower. But you know when you dry off you're still going to pick out a favorite outfit, make a mean pot of coffee and put a little badass into your day. 

Navy Taxi ~ Kate Nash

Rainy mornings. Perhaps hungover from a few extra post-happy hour drinks. You're not sure where you've left your umbrella. And you're not really sure what is going on with the guy you've been seeing. But you're trying, my goodness, you're trying to do the right thing and sort it all out. And you'd appreciate it if certain people kept their opinions to themselves and maybe you should just stay off of Facebook today to avoid reading those happy status updates from people you knew fifteen years ago.

So dear readers, what songs would you recommend for the morning? Share your favorites in the comments.

List #129: Helpful Hints, Warnings, & Other Misellanea

Wouldn't dating be a little easier if we could pass a suitor a note, early on in relationship (but not so early as to scare them or put added pressure on a potential new beginning) that kind of let them know what to look for, what you're good at and what you're always trying to improve?

• Sometimes I get the hangries. It's when I'm angry because I'm hungry. This could happen when we're out all day and haven't stopped to eat or when I'm just a fool who bypassed breakfast and lunch. If you see the hangries creeping up, it's best to just put a greasy hamburger in front of me without even suggesting I eat (I'll probably just get angry at your for thinking that I'm hangry) and I would definitely warn against saying something negative about my outfit, my family or even the weather. I promise though, it will pass, as soon as I eat that hamburger. And maybe french fries.
• I'm going to get really good at remembering your important dates. Birthday, job interview, your brother's wedding anniversary? Once they come up on the calendar, I'll remember them for as long as needed. I'm the type of girl who rarely even uses a planner because I can visualize the year sprawling out in my head. 
• I exaggerate. I'll tell you that I have 39483 things to do when really the list probably hovers at about 50. I'll tell you that I'm starving when I could probably just use a snack. I'll say I'm freaking out when really I'm just curious. I like to think this trait is tied to my love of a good story, but I recognize it's not always useful in daily life. I want you to know I'm working on it and that I'm trying to trim back the fat to just get the meat of the story. 
• I'd like you to ask me out. I'm a planner. Not because I'm so type-A that I can't go with the flow. When we're together, you'll soon learn than just about anything goes. But because my life is full and I try to balance work and love and play. And you asking for some of my time will just make me melt. 
• You'll probably have to get used to me leaving things at your place. If things go well. I just have a tendency to leave piles of stuff. But I promise to make your bed and maybe even leave you a little surprise or two. 
• I'm great at giving small presents on average days. Cookies, candy, tiny little tokens that remind me of an inside joke. They're yours.

There's probably a lot more, but I guess we should save some things for discovery. What would want to tell someone upfront? 

List #128: Daily Conversations

Last night a friend of mine sent me some text messages. She was a few martinis past happy hour and feeling the itch to text a man who doesn't deserve her attention. It's the curse of a single woman who can buy that extra drink at happy hour: to battle the drunk text, to ignore the man we don't want to ignore so hard. And all of this is certainly something I've done before and will more than likely do again. Because in all honesty? This is what I talk about most days:

And part of it, I hate so much. I hate that my single friends and I still worry about the men in our lives (or the lack of them).  Ryan Gosling probably shouldn't come up in conversations multiple times a week. 

But the other part, I really like. I'm not ready to trade these topics in for tips on potty training just yet. And really, what single woman doesn't like to talk about Ryan Gosling. Swoon.

List #127: Things on the Internet

This is what I like on the Internet lately:

I wish Pittsburgh Dad could be a guest storyteller at preschool storytime. This would probably be more enjoyable for the adults than the children.

I would really like to write for Hello Giggles. And if I can't write for them, I think my own friends and I should design our own site for fabulous 30-somethings.

Not only is Leslie Knope my favorite woman on television. 

I want to move to Pawnee and become the first librarian they actually all like. 

This is what I don't like on the Internet lately:

• Anything having to do with Beyonce and Jay-Z's baby. Their behavior was disrespectful. It sets the wrong example and perpetuates the selfish thought of America. 
• Anything having to do with Tim Tebow. He lost and I'm so happy. Football is game. Jesus is on no one's side. Anyway, the Steelers have Troy Polamalu and he's the nicest religious football player around and we didn't win either. 
• Anything having to do with bodily fluids. I noticed too much sharing about child and dog poo on Facebook yesterday. Let's not let this continue further into 2012.

So dear readers, what has you occupied on the Internet? And what are you so desperately avoiding? I'm always looking for a distraction.

List #126: My Own Type of Woman

On this day, where the weather is about to turn from rain to snow. And the local weathermen seem so extremely pleased to smugly tell us that winter has arrived and will be dumping snow on the Pittsburgh streets tonight, this is what I'm thinking about.

I'm the 30-year old woman:

• Has come to be cautious about every move. 
• Often getting passed over for the other girl-next-door.
• Who is leaving her baggage on the side of the road, one package at a time.
• Is crushing on Mac Miller. You know, he's 19 and a rapper. And nothing like the guy I would have crushed on at 19. But he writes and sings this: 

And I'm a sucker for those who confess their love of Pittsburgh so proudly

• Who is going to offer to do your dishes on a lazy Sunday morning and meant it. 
• But won't overstep her boundaries and put them away until some things are established.
• Has a deep love of Pittsburgh. But still kind of doesn't picture herself settling here.
• Is 5'8'' and wears high heels more often than she wears flats.
• Has married men hit on her.
• But don't worry, is not the type of woman who would entertain their offers and allusions.
• Is the unspoken back-up plan for men who like to flirt and make out.
• Now gets comments when she isn't wearing her glasses.
• Has stopped putting 2 spaces after a period when writing informally. But formally? Forget it.
• Looks amazingly hot today. And is disappointed it's only for work.
• Wants a nice, romantic dinner.
• Striving to be more comfortable with small public displays of affection.
• Is very glad she has a tough pair of winter boots.

So dear readers, what makes you you at the moment? 

Guest Post #2: The Pondering Poet

This is Bri, the Poet over at A Poet's Ponderings. A professor, residing in Indianapolis, recently married.

Bri. Poet in the Heartland

Bri is one of the few bloggers I know personally. We met here:

Allegheny College. Gorgeous, right?

Graduates of the Class of 2003. Both English majors, both sorority members (different sororities though) but we actually weren't all that close. In a school with less than 2,000 students it's hard not to know everyone and we had common friends, but we ran in different circles. Though, truthfully, I always kind of wished we knew each other better back then. Another truth, the "pinning" ceremony that her future-husband performed was the best of our 4 years in college and as Allegheny prepares for a bicentennial, they should put it in the history books.

What else should you know about Bri?

Q1: What should readers know about you?

A: I love animals to point where it's a bit ridiculous. I have a dog, Kweli, a cat, Nimbus and two recently acquired Zebra Finches, Humphrey and Calliope. I can't watch those ASPCA commercials featuring Sarah McLaughlin without weeping. I break for geese, chipmunks, squirrels, and raccoons. I spend a fortune on my pets, I donate to the World Wildlife Fund, The Humane Society and The ASPCA. Yeah, I may have a problem.

Q2: Why do you blog?

A: I blog because I am a writer. I've kept a journal for forever and I started writing letters, poems, and stories when I was in first grade. I just love writing and my blog is really an electronic journal of sorts, so that's why I like to keep up with it.

Q3: Can you recommend a great collection of poetry to readers?

A: My favorite poet of all time is Elizabeth Bishop. I admire her greatly and her poetry is the reason I write. Her meticulous attention to detail, her observers eye, her subjects, her struggles and her triumphs are truly remarkable. I'm going to pull a professor's trick and just recommend a few poems instead of an entire book. This is mostly because when I was a student, I found entire poetry collections a bit intimidating. The poems I would recommend are "Sestina," "The Moose," "The Fish," "Brazil," "In the Waiting Room," "One Art," "Sandpiper," and "At the Fishouses."

And so what better letter to write, from a poet who loves to teach and loves to learn, than a letter to her own college:

To My Community College:

If you had asked me ten years ago as a graduating senior from a private liberal arts college what I knew about community colleges, I would have said absolutely nothing. However, this would not have been a true answer because I knew one thing about community colleges: I knew they were looked down upon. How did I know this? Because occasionally when I would tell people unfamiliar with Allegheny College where I went to school they would pause and then say, "Oh," you go to CCAC." CCAC stands for Community College of Allegheny County. The first few times this happened, I corrected the questioner but didn't think much of it. I didn't know anything about CCAC and I'm not a native of Pennsylvania, so whatever. They were confusing one school for another. Who cares, right? I was quickly set straight when the same mistake was made in the presence of a friend of mine from Pittsburgh. "No, no, no," she interjected quickly, "we go to Allegheny College not CCAC. That's a community college." Then she laughed and made a face, and I started to get the picture.

Flash forward four years and I'm graduating from my small liberal arts college to head to the great state of Texas for graduate school. It is while I am sweating away in this strange state, studying Heidegger and Hegel and wondering if I'm smart enough for grad school, that I learn I love teaching. I teach several sections of freshman composition and I am hooked. My students are young, they are diverse, they are hilarious and they are frustrating. It is hard work but I feel I've hit my stride. As I finish my MA,  and prepare to head back east, I start to think about teaching jobs.

I arrive back in Pennsylvania in December in the middle of a blizzard, which is fitting. I enroll in a low-residency MFA program, I get back together with my now husband, and I realize that I'm going to end up moving out to Indianapolis. I start looking for adjunct teaching jobs at colleges in Indy and come across a posting for an adjunct English instructor at a community college. I apply Thursday, I am contacted the following Thursday and I am told I need to be in Indy the following Monday. I pack up my Nissan Sentra and once again, drive west.

I arrived at my community college close to five years ago and I'm preparing to start my eighth semester as a full time faculty member. I've learned a lot in my time teaching at this college, but the most important thing I've learned is that community colleges do not deserve to be looked down upon. They are doing hard, important and necessary work in our communities and they should be congratulated and celebrated for that work. Community colleges help people of all ages find their educational path. Sometimes these people are eighteen year old students who are not quite ready to leave home. Sometimes these people are thirty year old men and women who are taking on a second career or making a career change. Sometimes, and more often than not with the present economy, these people are making their way back from a job loss.

My students struggle. They have obstacles that I could not even begin to imagine when I was in college. They are single parents, they are first generation college students, they are victims of domestic violence, they are victims of childhood abuse, they are recovering addicts, they have been incarcerated, they have been homeless and/or jobless and they do not know what it is to be a student.

But they want to learn and I want to teach them.

So to my community college, thank you for taking a sheltered and naive twenty-three year old girl and showing her that she was wrong. That education is not only found in brick buildings covered in ivy and that students are not all eighteen years old with new laptops and cell phones. Education is diversity. You taught me that, and for that lesson, I am grateful.

Sincerely,
Bri