Tuesday, March 14, 2006
New Vocabulary.
I've started doing work with a high school youth group in Sunbury, Ohio. Sunbury is about half an hour fro my house. Sunbury is an exurb. Sunbury is, most likely, where my keys are right now. Right. So I left my keys (possibly) on a farm in Sunbury, Ohio on Sunday night, after spending four hours remembering what it was like to be in high school.
Those kids have energy. Excitement. Their passion for life is unadultured by our cynical society. High school kids communicate in an unabashed way. They say what they think and present themselves without fear. It's fascinating being around them. I can learn so much from them.
Meanwhile, I found myself thinking, multiple times, "things weren't like this when I was in high school." I think that my high school years were a lot purer than most, even in my generation. The words "vagina," "penis," and "orgasm" weren't in my vocabulary. (The word "placenta" was, but that was divinely inspired by a song from the beloved band, Live. Every kid in my generation felt the pain and the reality of life as that placenta fell to the floor. Early emo.) Right. So. Somehow, I was with a group of kids in my formitave years that focused on practicing paradiddles over "getting action" or getting drunk, stoned, etc. Sure those people existed. But I didn't know them. I knew *of* them. They were in choir.
At the end of the evening, I rode with Bryan as we dropped off kids to their respective homes in Westerville and New Albany. The boys were in the back seat discussing wrestling moves, while we unknowingly moved further and further away from my keys. This guy was describing a half nelson, or a full neslon or something. I, trying to be cool, chimed in and said, "Yeah, I do that all the time to Bryan. And then I knee him in the balls."
I don't think that the kids caught just how cool I was right then, that I'd entered their world, their vocabulary. I think that they probably just thought that I was a dork. Meanwhile, Bryan and I were both shocked at what had come out of my mouth. Kneeing Bryan in the genitals is something that I never plan on doing. Ever. Actually, it's something that I (and he) probably don't ever want to think about again.
But. I think that I'm starting to understand high school boys, at least. Because I'm pretty sure that the chubby kid feels the same way about "sticking a gerbil up [his] pooper."
I think that this was supposed to be a post about how I like Sunbury, but I'll leave that for another time.
I've started doing work with a high school youth group in Sunbury, Ohio. Sunbury is about half an hour fro my house. Sunbury is an exurb. Sunbury is, most likely, where my keys are right now. Right. So I left my keys (possibly) on a farm in Sunbury, Ohio on Sunday night, after spending four hours remembering what it was like to be in high school.
Those kids have energy. Excitement. Their passion for life is unadultured by our cynical society. High school kids communicate in an unabashed way. They say what they think and present themselves without fear. It's fascinating being around them. I can learn so much from them.
Meanwhile, I found myself thinking, multiple times, "things weren't like this when I was in high school." I think that my high school years were a lot purer than most, even in my generation. The words "vagina," "penis," and "orgasm" weren't in my vocabulary. (The word "placenta" was, but that was divinely inspired by a song from the beloved band, Live. Every kid in my generation felt the pain and the reality of life as that placenta fell to the floor. Early emo.) Right. So. Somehow, I was with a group of kids in my formitave years that focused on practicing paradiddles over "getting action" or getting drunk, stoned, etc. Sure those people existed. But I didn't know them. I knew *of* them. They were in choir.
At the end of the evening, I rode with Bryan as we dropped off kids to their respective homes in Westerville and New Albany. The boys were in the back seat discussing wrestling moves, while we unknowingly moved further and further away from my keys. This guy was describing a half nelson, or a full neslon or something. I, trying to be cool, chimed in and said, "Yeah, I do that all the time to Bryan. And then I knee him in the balls."
I don't think that the kids caught just how cool I was right then, that I'd entered their world, their vocabulary. I think that they probably just thought that I was a dork. Meanwhile, Bryan and I were both shocked at what had come out of my mouth. Kneeing Bryan in the genitals is something that I never plan on doing. Ever. Actually, it's something that I (and he) probably don't ever want to think about again.
But. I think that I'm starting to understand high school boys, at least. Because I'm pretty sure that the chubby kid feels the same way about "sticking a gerbil up [his] pooper."
I think that this was supposed to be a post about how I like Sunbury, but I'll leave that for another time.
Tuesday, March 07, 2006
Nagging Circumstances.
For roughly six months, I’ve been hounding my coworker, K, to ask his live-in girlfriend of, like, six years to marry him. For six months, he’s been evading the issue. For six months, I’d tell him, “Well, she should leave you if you’re not going to commit.”
It’s not that I really know K or his girlfriend that well, and it’s not like I truly expected him to take my advice. It was just fun to watch him blush and change the subject once a week when I’d say, “Have you asked her, yet?”
So today he walks into my office after a smoke break.
“You smell like smoke,” I say.
“I know,” he says.
“You should quit smoking and ask L to marry you,” I say.
“I already did,” he says.
My head snaps up from the blue computer screen. “You’re engaged?”
“Yup,” he says.
“I’ve been telling you to propose for six months,” I say.
“Well I did it on Friday,” he says.
He tells me the story and then heads back to the store. I went back to my work, with a smile. I’m pretty sure that he would have asked her to marry him without my nagging aide, but it was nice to think that maybe I helped speed up the process a little.
For roughly six months, I’ve been hounding my coworker, K, to ask his live-in girlfriend of, like, six years to marry him. For six months, he’s been evading the issue. For six months, I’d tell him, “Well, she should leave you if you’re not going to commit.”
It’s not that I really know K or his girlfriend that well, and it’s not like I truly expected him to take my advice. It was just fun to watch him blush and change the subject once a week when I’d say, “Have you asked her, yet?”
So today he walks into my office after a smoke break.
“You smell like smoke,” I say.
“I know,” he says.
“You should quit smoking and ask L to marry you,” I say.
“I already did,” he says.
My head snaps up from the blue computer screen. “You’re engaged?”
“Yup,” he says.
“I’ve been telling you to propose for six months,” I say.
“Well I did it on Friday,” he says.
He tells me the story and then heads back to the store. I went back to my work, with a smile. I’m pretty sure that he would have asked her to marry him without my nagging aide, but it was nice to think that maybe I helped speed up the process a little.
