basilica beach

A full moon rises in the east on a clear cool night in the desert.  It’s a perfect time to camp in the middle of nowhere, an infinite concerto of stars and galaxies and unknown civilizations serenading our blue planet one more time. 

No, I wasn't out there camping but I remember and it is good.  It’s also good to listen to Beethoven’s 5^th symphony and consider the last three days of decision making.  A few hours ago I bought my ticket for next month’s ten day holiday and what a wrestling match it was. 

I had two choices which kept me up, oh such a hard life, I know, I am grateful to have this kind of  indecision, I don’t take it for granted, I know many don’t have any kind of luxury to not even consider what to do with ten days of no work but not knowing what to do was awful. Heartburn, loss of sleep, an unwillingness to spend money but staying here was not attractive at all.  If I lived where people come to holiday I wouldn’t put myself through the absurdity of elections.

What did I need, nature or history, beaches or basilicas, a warm therapeutic sun or divinely guided paint strokes.  I looked for signs and got nothing.  This morning I went to St. Mary’s, the first time in two years I’d been to mass on a Sunday open for direction.  What did I need, the Pope or palm trees.  I spent hours looking at what each destination could give me and in the end, the end because in the three days I looked the fares for each were steadily rising.  But it wasn’t so much about money it was what would re-energize me.  Seven days in the shadows of holiness or seven days under a holy sun.

I couldn’t sleep last night and woke up at 1:30am and watched Any Given Sunday and wondered if today in another time zone my football team would win on any given Sunday.  As I write this I don’t hold much hope but if change is going to happen let it begin here.  One playoff win since their last championship in 1957.  I’d like to watch it but I will pray for sleep and tomorrow morning I will nervously check.  Keep your expectations in check and if they lose you’re far away, so far away the disappointment will dissipate quickly.  If by God’s green hash marks they win, well, it’ll be a head scratcher and what joy there will be if only to the next weekend where they’ll for sure be put in their place.  Such optimism.  I’m simply an optimist with experience.

We have a nice three day work week ahead of us, week 13 in the grind, I wrote up the final exam in two days.  This week I’ll make a mock exam and pass it on to the teachers.  Students who have absences to burn will surely start burning them soon.  What does this mean to me?  It means soon will be the holiday and then the last semester working here.  I’ve seen jobs elsewhere, it’s time to toss the cv out, I would surely like to have a grasp of my next step before the annual tesol conference’s job fair in March.  But I will go if I have to.  

A moonlight sonata is a most contemplative arrangement.  My ironing will have to wait. 

In a few weeks I will have to decide whether to renew the border pass and I hope I do.  Crossing with the car is good.  And I can do church on Sunday instead of Friday which I didn’t have the energy to do, after mass today I had breakfast at McDonalds, the same one I took my seventh grade class to when it opened in 1994 though then they didn’t serve breakfast.  That came in the summer of 2009, weeks before I left in a chaotic whirl of astral ash.  I could do this on Sundays with a border pass and still have plenty of time to return and go to the office provided I teach evening classes again.  We shall see. 

It is strange to see another year and again there is this how did I get it so wrong feeling.  I only hope 12.21.12 and my disillusioned fallacies will disappear from memory forever.