Falling

Walking to work the other day I saw someone walking ahead of me swerve suddenly to the side and LEAP to crush an especially crunchy bunch of leaves. It made me laugh, and feel glad to know I am not the only one who does that. I love sound of crunching leaves, I almost feel like they are giggling with me.

My two favorite seasons are the in-between seasons, Spring and Fall. Summer and Winter are lots of fun, but nothing beats the thrill and excitement of the smell of change in the air. It is hard to say which of the two seasons I love more - in the fall, I claim autumn, and come May, I will say spring. I have always loved the saying that fall is a second spring, with every leaf a flower. Perhaps that is why I love it so much. Because I really do love autumn - the air has a unique flavor, tinted with both melancholy and euphoria. It is achingly beautiful, almost overwhelming in it's beauty, the grandeur almost breaks your heart- the land is giving one last hurrah, and celebrating the summer life they have enjoyed by throwing a party and wearing their best formal gowns.

I went for a nice long walk this evening, just to drink it all in - the aspen and birches are bright yellows, and look like flaming torches - lighting my way to my next adventure. The maples are just starting to turn, and are a funny mix of green, yellow and orange, like they have just been to the hair dresser and gotten frosted highlights - but it wont be long before they really burst into flame.

I read a poem once that I have never been able to find again that I always think of at this time of year, comparing fall tree's with Moses' burning bush on Mt. Sinai. Perhaps it the poem didn't even explicitly make the connection, but led me to make it myself - but now, in every firey autumn tree I see a miracle and remember God's love for us.

Fall is the brisk, smoky spiced air of late September afternoons. It is sipping cider around the burn barrel. Fall is the smell of the fallen leaves, decaying as their colorful corpses blanket the sidewalks.

"Bittersweet October. The mellow, messy, leaf-kicking, perfect pause between the opposing miseries of summer and winter." Carol Bishop Hipps

Take the risk, take it seriously.

Wow. I feel like I really don't know what to write - there is just so much banging around in my head! It has been a wild and crazy month and a half - each week becoming more and more intense, hence the lack of posts for the last little while. I apologize.

I never thought I would actually care about any sport - I have gotten interested in teams in the past, cheered for players and felt some measure of excitement at a good play, but I have never really been emotionally invested in either a team or a sport. Basketball, football, baseball... they just don't hold my interest. (I fell asleep at last year's homecoming game.) But over the last four years of working with the High School soccer team I have become not just interested, but invested, fascinated and at times, more than a bit crazed (soccer is the only time I even come close to swearing). Soccer is the only sport I actively look for when I get the chance to watch TV, so you know I have truly been won over to the sport (I can't wait for the World Cup!)

"If you don't take it seriously, it's no fun, if you do take it seriously, it breaks your heart." Arnold Daly might have been talking about golf, but his words are true on so many levels. I always thought it was ridiculous to get all worked up and upset over a silly game, but he is right, it is no fun if you don't take it seriously. To really enjoy it, you have to let yourself become invested and become passionate and allow your hopes to build up.

Hope is one of those emotions that I try to keep in check, well, at least keep it reasonable - I am naturally an optimistic person, but I figure if you let your hopes fly too unreasonably high, chances are good that you get bit in the bum when they crash and burn. I am no Anne Shirley. But hope is one of those emotions that arouse a passion for the possible - and as our season progressed my hopes soared on exhilarating thermals - going to state became a very real possibility, because when our team was on form, I can honestly say we were the best in the district. The more of a possibility it became, the higher my hopes flew and the more excited and passionate I became.

It has been an emotionally intense, exciting, exhausting soccer season - the first winning season our school has had for a long time (8-3-2), and one of the best Varsity teams the school has seen since the program began. We had our ups and downs, our team has a history of inconsistency, and we struggled a bit with it in the middle of the season, shutting down either offensively or defensively, or on a few (horrifying) occasions, both.

We made it three games into district playoffs, winning the first in an emotionally draining battle, and loosing the last two. But if we had to loose our last game, at least it was one to be proud of. The boys fought the good fight, they gave it 110% and left their hearts on the field. It was an amazing game with great ball movement and strong defense, and a lot of good opportunities. Our only struggle was in finishing. We held the score to zeros though overtime, and went out with a crap shoot - PK's. PK's pretty much come down to luck, which Keeper guesses right. Basically it's Fate sitting around and tossing dice, laughing at our cries of anguish when the ball brushes off our (phenomenal) keepers glove and into the net.

It was an emotional end to the season, especially for the seniors - you sometimes forget that guys really care because they so rarely show their feelings. They weren't the only emotional ones out there, I was having a hard time holding my own tears back while I interpreted, and I wasn't entirely successful, because a few leaked out.

I doubt I will ever have this kind of an opportunity again - to work so closely with a HS soccer team composed of such high caliber

players - both in skill and character - and lead by one of the best coaches I have ever had the privilege to work with. I have worked with a lot of other coaches in this district, and observed many others through the years, and there aren't many of them that I like, even fewer whom I respect. He is one of the few. Passionate and knowledgeable about the game, he honestly cares about the players and is willing to do whatever he needs to do to help his team pull together and give their best.

I know I was probably a bit of a nuisance, the lone girl among 35 or so guys, always tagging along, butting into the middle of the 'inner sanctum' of the team like an annoying little sister. But because I was able to invade, I was able to witness first hand some quality coaching, I got a taste of what it must be like to be part of an amazing team, and I now have some of the best memories of my life. I will always be grateful for these last four seasons, and in my book this team will always be the best.

I Passed...

Last spring (end of Feb) I wrote an entry talking about how I had signed up and taken the EIPA performance test, and promised I would let you know my score when I got it. I never did follow through on that. It wound up taking more than the 90 days estimated by the company for them to finish the evaluation, and I didn't get the results till after I had returned from Costa Rica - then, after I saw my score I was so disappointed in my limited progress that I didn't feel it was worthy of any celebration. So I ignored it.

You'll mock me (and rightly so), because I did improve - I got a 4.1 (up from a 3.8) - but I wanted a 4.2. I read somewhere that the average certified RID member scored a 4.2 when they took the EIPA performance, and that was my goal, and it became some kind of mental sign that if I got it, then when I took the NIC (RID's certification test) I would be able to pass that. Because I didn't get it, I sulked instead.

Shortly after I took the performance portion of the test, I signed up to take the written portion in May. Frustratingly, one week before I was supposed to take it, (after studying my brains out)the test was suspended in order to deal with some breach of confidentiality issues. So it wasn't until this afternoon that the schedules of both me and my proctor finally aligned and I was able to take the test.

I don't know how I did it, but somehow, I passed the test. I was exhausted - the test was almost 200 questions long, there were technical difficulties (my computer shut down in the middle and I had to restart!!) and I had gotten up early to make the drive to the testing location and I had just finished with a very long week at work. There were times during the test when I would sit and read a question 4-5 times, trying to figure out what on earth it said, my brain would just freeze up and I would have to sit back and try to reboot myself. 'Tis true, miracles still happen.

So what does passing these tests actually mean? Well... "as of the fall 2006, RID began to recognize individuals who passed the Educational Interpreter Performance Assessment (EIPA) written and performance tests at the level of 4.o or higher as certified members of the association."

It means that I am a certified member of the Registry of Interpreters for the Deaf. I am not certified to work in all settings (legal, medical...), but I have got Educational settings (k-12) covered. I have been qualified to work Educational settings in the state of Idaho for the last 5 years, (they only require a 3.5) but it sure feels good to be nationally certified. Give it another several hours of sleep and I might even have enough energy to feel excited about it, lol :)

Two tests down... two left to go.

Red Socks hat at a Yankees game.

I said it before, and I will say it again. I am far more immature now than I ever was in High School. I think this is partly to do with where I work and who I work with. Spending large amounts of time with high school boys will do that to a person. Part of that is a total enjoyment of very juvenile practical jokes, and an absurd amusement with teenage melodrama. But also, lately I have been noticing a tendency in myself towards annoyance with a couple of things that tend to lead to some rather immature impulses welling up in me. Things like little nit-picky, controlling rules, extremism and stereotypes.

Nit-picky rules: The more the 'powers that be' try to dictate what can or cannot be done, the more I feel a desire to rebel. Definitely a sign of regression. I used to not care, or just think that it was stupid. Now when the school sends out an email informing us that having streaks of brightly dyed hair is against the dress code, I just want to go dye a chunk of my own hair. Not because I want pink hair, but because I don't think that is something that should be regulated by a public school.

Extremism: Last week I interpreted what was supposed to be a discussion about various perspectives, but was in reality a RANT against 'the left' (activist, environmentalists...) that was so full of stereotypes and narrow-minded, self-righteous prejudice that while I actually did a really good job of interpreting it, (I got the affect, innuendos, and slurs just right!), I left the class feeling a very strong desire to return the next day dressed in my most 'granola' clothes. I am still resisting that impulse. [I must remain professional!]

***I find it highly amusing that the longer I live in a strongly conservative, republican community, the more liberal and democratic I feel. Granted, I am very much a moderate. Always have been, and always will be (I think), I can see both sides of almost any situation. Every issue has pros and cons, and there are two sides to every coin - what annoys me is when people refuse to acknowledge the other side or tries to impose their opinions on others. ***

Stereotypes: The only time I really let myself 'have fun' is when I am playing with stereotypes. This is usually when I just want to get a good reaction out of someone based on their prejudices - it is why whenever I go to Institute I carry a Starbucks cup (they make the BEST hot chocolate and apple cider!) and why I wear a soccer shirts to football games. It is never anything big, but I do like to make the point that things aren't always what they seem, and that our (usually cultural) perceptions of right and wrong aren't necessarily correct. And sometimes, I do it just to annoy people.

Granted, I am not likely to break down and give into all these impulses just to make a point, so if one day you see me with a streak of purple hair, carrying a Starbucks cup and wearing an Obama shirt, don't worry. I am probably just trying to annoy someone and get a good reaction.

Yup, I am definitely less mature than I used to be.

A question for the masses.

Ok, so I just put up my first poll, and wanted to draw everyone's attention to it, 'cause I want you to actually respond. I got some great ideas when I asked for TV show recommendations (I am getting Freaks and Geeks for my night time runs) but now I am looking at some shorter comedies for my mornings. You can vote for more than one, and if you have any other suggestions feel free to send them on. Anyhow, let the voting begin!

8 seasons, 201 episodes.

Wahoo!!

I have FINISHED the Cosby Show. That's right, finished it.

It has taken a while, but I watched/ran to every single episode of the Cosby Show. All 8 seasons worth. That is two hundred and one episodes. Not half bad, if I do say so myself. And I enjoyed every minute of it. After all, Cliff Huxtable is the worlds second favorite dad - second only to my own! And lets face it, Cliff and Clair make the best TV couple... I loved watching the show every morning, and love that I enjoyed it even more as an adult than I did as a kid. Just like with M*A*S*H (which I also own and watched/ran to all 251 episodes).

So now that I have finished M*A*S*H and the Cosby Show, I am in need of a TV series to start watching as I run in the mornings. Personally, I think I have good taste in TV shows - but I didn't watch too much TV as a kid, so my exposure was limited and I'm not sure what else there is out there that can measure up and be just as awesome - so if you have any recommendations I am wide open. And hurry up - I need something to run to now!

Good grief!

This morning I arrived at work to find an email in my inbox, effectively making the point that the school would not be watching President Obama's back-to-school speech because of some disgruntled parents. Several feelings hit me as I read through the message again. Incredulity, disbelief, frustration and disappointment were only a few. Isn't it supposed to be a privelege and an honor to have the President of the United States of America spend time talking to the country's students? Reagan spoke to students about the war and we cheered. Bush addressed the schools about the war, and we applauded. Obama talks to students about staying in school and the American people are up in arms.

Whoever our president happens to be, whether I agree with him or not, he is still the leader of our country. For various reasons, I didn't vote for our current president (though I was pleased as punch that he won). But though I don't agree with everything he does, that doesn't mean I don't have a great deal of respect for the office he holds. How is it that, to quote a teacher from Maryland, "the country has become so polarized that we believe that our president is an enemy and not our leader?"

Honestly, what is it that these 'concerned parents' are afraid of? Are they afraid that their children will learn to think for themselves? Are they worried that the students will be brainwashed into getting an education? Heaven forbid they should work harder or take responsibility for themselves.

Perhaps we should take a step back and take a look at what kind of a message parents are sending to their children. That idea's are not valid if you don't like the speaker? That the elected leader of our country is not worthy of our respect? That if you don't agree with someone, you can throw a fit and get your way?

Strange how we bemoan the lack of support for education and mourn our faltering system, and yet this is the example we set?

Good grief. If this is socialist propeganda, I would hate to see what Stalin would say.