The Well Running A Little Dry is Relative

It's September, which means it's almost officially fall here in southern California. It doesn't really become fall until the end of October -- the air starts to smell of burning leaves, or maybe just burning hillsides, and Russ and I usually celebrate by ordering a pizza of sausage, garlic, mushrooms, and tomatoes. Very fall-y tastes. We sit around our coffeetable, eating pizza, marveling at how dark it is at 6:30 and sometimes - if it's Halloween, which often coincides with this autumnal celebration - keep the door open and listen to how many kids are walking by, but not stopping, at our house. And we always get the good candy, too.

I've always been on an academic calendar, so fall to me has always meant the beginning of things. This is in contrast to the real calendar, where the beginning of things coincides with buds and pastels and the smell of jasmine. Now I'm teaching instead of taking classes, which means that this signals the start of grading papers, trying to rouse college freshman with witticisms, and the loss of freedom. In a way, teaching college is an easy gig -- I only have to show up three days a week and on these three days, I don't start earlier than 10:30 in the morning. It's wonderful and I'm spoiled. But work is still work and writing all day (with random trips to wikipedia and Ebay, of course) is real freedom. Checking eBay at work just doesn't provide the same thrill.

And this is why I've been so absent of late. My energies have been going into work and curriculum and thoughts about how to best communicate to my students about how wide the world is, how many factors there are pressing down on their cute little brains trying to get them to think in certain ways. These are all exciting, in their English-y way, but by the end of the week, I'm seriously wiped. Not just from communicating, but from performing, because that's a big part of teaching. Being a performer, making subjects fun (and, as some tell me, a little sexy, as in cool and attractive) is hard work. It's putting both your body and your brain out on the line with the hopes of communicating the real, the important, not just random blah-blahs of the Charlie Brown school of learning.

But writing is writing and to do it, you have to practice a lot. At least that's what I tell my students. And I don't want to be one of those teachers who tell their students to do something that they don't do themselves. It always bugged me - and still does - that various gym teachers throughout my school-life would assign us miles to run without running them with us. So here I am, a writing teacher, and the writing part of my title has been sadly lacking. I need to get out there, like the gym teachers of school years' past, and do the work myself.

For starters -- I'm writing for the very cool Not For Tourists Guide as a L.A. Radar Writer. I think this is just a fancy way of saying that I'm a reviewer. So, if you're interested in my reviews of off-the-path San Gabriel Valley establishments, check out the website.

If not, fear not. I'll be back soon, doing my laps along with the troops.