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It's summertime for me. I know, it seems a little early. Summer camps haven't started. The summer reading program at the library hasn't begun. The kids aren't even out of school yet.

My seasons tend to start early, though. I work with college students, so the seasons tend to go with the semesters and their breaks. Also, I live in Texas, so it starts to feel like summer here earlier than most places. In fact, it's not so much fall, winter, spring, summer for me as it's fall, holiday, spring, summer, because February might not always feel like winter here, but it always grades like spring. I turned in grades on Monday for Spring 2013 and have started working for summer conferences, so in my mind, I've transitioned.

It's a new season. A new photo album on Facebook. A new goodbye, making way for a new hello.

I will miss my residents. Well, most of them. I will not miss teaching, but I'll be ready to go back to it in August.

Summertime means conferences, the part of my job where I feel most like a fish out of water. Day desk has been rougher than I expected it to be, but conferences are even rougher. Training is my strength; customer service is not. And customer service is all that summer conferences entail. On the upside, it's easier to leave behind when I leave work for the day. I gratefully flee. No chance of it following me home.

Summertime means reading. I read a lot anyway, but there's more time for it in the summer. I am not reading many deep things this summer. I actually have romance novels on my list. I might flip out and throw some Proust in there or tackle Infinite Jest, but I make no promises.

Summertime usually means more writing, too. I am going to work on my Fishbowl story this summer. I am also submitting a few posts in a few places as a guest blogger. And I have the urge for the first time ever to try my hand at poetry, so perhaps I will do some of that, too.

But most important of all - summertime means snow cones and popsicles and yoga. Cooling off and calming down. It's my sanest season.


Jul. 13th, 2011 03:40 am
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I just watched the Top 14 episode on SYTYCD. The one with the... )
coffeesnob318: (Default) the same as my favorite song at this time this year. I am old and set in my ways. I am mere days away from yelling at kids to get off my lawn. The only thing holding me back (okay...holding me back most of the time) is that I live in an apartment so a) I have no lawn to speak of, and b) those kids live here, too.

So that does it. That rounds out my Thirty Day Song Challenge (completed in 35 days - not great, but honestly, better than I expected).
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This was my favorite song in third grade.
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I'm stumped. I can't think of a single song that makes me feel guilty. I think this is an odd prompt.

Maybe if there was a song sung from a cow's perspective, lamenting the poor living conditions that she endures just so that I can have cheese. Aw....sad! But mmm...cheese. *conflicted*

So help me out. What song makes you feel guilty?
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Learning guitar (and learning it well enough to play a little Flamenco) is on my bucket list. I plan to get to that right after I whittle the three jobs down to one so that I have time for the hobbies and interests that I already have. Then I'll have time to pick up the guitar.

Or maybe I'll just take the summer off and take up with a nice fella on a beach somewhere who can teach me how to play.
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This was my favorite recital piece. It's a lot of fun. I'm so out of practice. Watching her play makes me ache. I need a proper keyboard so bad. I wouldn't sound like this if I tried to play it right now, but give me a few weeks, and I could again.
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"You know nothing of madness 'til you're climbing her hair..."

And it's just not complete without the reprise from Act 2:

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The original prompt says "A song you want to play at your funeral." I now need to figure out how I can show up at my own funeral and play a song for the people. Without doing the Huck Finn thing. *plots*

When I was little, I assumed that this song was talking about Heaven. I still don't know if it is or not, but that's what I think about when I hear it.
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Stolen clean away from [ profile] ogew

Just answer the questions, right here in the comments so I get a chance to learn more about you. =)

1. Name:
2. Birthday:
3. Where do you live:
4: What are you studying/What are you working as:
5. What makes you happy:
6. What are you listening to now/have listened to last:
7. What is particularly good/bad about my LJ:
8. An interesting fact about you:
9. Are you in love/have a crush at the moment:
10. Favourite place to be:
11. Favourite lyric:
12. Best time of the year:
13. Weirdest food you like:
14. Contact info/tumblr:

1. A film:
2. A book:
3. A song:
4: A band:

1. Favourite Fandom:
2. OTP/OT3:
3. Icon/Fic Journal:

1. One thing you like about me:
2. Two things you like about yourself:
3. Put this in your LJ so I can tell you what I think of you?
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The Fiona Apple station on Pandora introduced me to this song. I love it. It's soothing when I'm sad. But it also makes me sad when I'm not. Really, anything that ended up on my mix that I listened to when I was writing Emma Jane for NaNoWriMo would fit this category. It's a blue little mix. That was a long month.
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Or pretty much anything happy from Ally McBeal. Close runners up? Hooked on a Feeling and Just One Look.
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The release of this album was timed perfectly in my life. It coincided with my first big realization that the world is broken. It's still my go-to righteous indignation music.
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"Be good."

This is what my dad says at the end of every phone call. "Be good. I love you." And to the extent that he means "behave," I have, in many ways, gone out of my way NOT to follow this advice. But that's only a tiny part of what he means. What he means most of all by this advice is evident in the example he sets with his own life.

My dad is one of the kindest people I've met. He may react harshly at first out of passion or indignation, but compassion soon takes over. His heart is easily softened, especially when it comes to my sister and me. He is generous and loving. He's opinionated but fair. He's not always right, but he's humble enough to admit when he's not. And he makes me laugh. He's a good dad and a good man.

He's also good at everything he does. It's a little sickening. Every job he's ever had, whether it is a job he actually gets paid to do or just something he volunteered to do, he does well. And he's truly bothered by people who don't (or, rather, people who don't care or try). He used to run the sound system at his church. He actually reorganized the whole system so that it would work more efficiently. He would meet the choir or special guests speakers/musicians whenever they could meet to practice and make sure that they could be heard. Mom says that any time there is a squeak or feedback or lull that isn't supposed to be there, he flinches a little. He's stopped going back and taking over, at least. :)

In his professional life, he's been a farmer, a county commissioner, and a business owner. When he was county commissioner, the residents in his precinct knew that they could call him at any time (and they certainly did) if there was something wrong with their roads. And he would fix it. He would also spend extra time trying to figure out how to make it never happened again. I understand that it's easy with an elected position to make promises during the campaign and then run out of time to keep them. But my dad taught me that it's not as inevitable as most politicians would like us to believe.

When his step-dad retired, he passed on his dry cleaning business to my dad. Dad had been his assistant and knew the standard that Granddaddy had set, and he upheld that standard. Because he also understood the importance of having a good relationship with customers, he upheld that standard as well. I remember when another dry cleaner opened in our small town. They lost no time in pointing out that their prices were lower than my dad's prices. Naturally, several of his customers brought this to his attention, hoping to get him to lower his prices. He nicely told them that he stood by his prices, but if they were too high, they were welcome to take their business to the competition with no hard feelings. This was enough to settle the issue for most of them. But one lady kept badgering him. Finally, during one of her rants, he took some cash out of his pocket and placed it on the counter. When she abruptly stopped lecturing, he said, "Clearly, this is something that is very important to you. So I want you to go try out the competition. I'll even pay the first bill. This (indicating the money) should cover the cost to clean a dress shirt. I want you to know that this is not a dismissal; you have been a great customer for many years, and I appreciate that. But I want you to be happy with our service, and you're not happy. And I'd rather you be happy with the competition than unhappy with us." Within a week, she was back, happy as a clam to be one of my dad's customers. Apparently, the lower cost wasn't worth the extra shine that leaving the press on for a little long caused to her husband's trousers. Heh.

Honestly, this is all a little hard to live up to. And I know that it is not his intention to set such a daunting standard of excellence. Or maybe it is. Either way, it's too late to overcome it - I caught the bug. I forever want to live up to it. I want to be good, just like my dad.
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I skipped yesterday, so I'll just do two days in one today. Luckily, the songs fit together nicely.

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I thought this was brilliant as a kid. Then I grew up and worked daycare. I feel your pain, Shari.
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I'm not a big One Republic fan, but something about this song resonates with me. It's what popped into my mind at today's prompt.


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May 2013

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