So much to recap!

Oy. Well, let me start way back last week. As I'm sure you can guess from some of my previous hectic posts, my life has been dominated by one thing: CRITICAL WRITING. The final portfolio, which is to "present a critical picture of my semester in CW," was due Friday the 16th. I had thrown my heart into this class over the whole semester, and the weight was heavy to portray that adequately and demonstrate what I had learned in the writing of the piece. I plunked around on it over the weekend, getting nowhere. I did force myself to think about it, and make an outline of what I had learned in the course. Mom and Dad were gone for the weekend visiting Ken in Cape May where he works at a seawatch/hawkwatch, tracking migrating birds. Then on Monday I took Daniel to "Readers & Writers Club" Monday afternoon. I asked Mrs. Sames if I could hang around for a few minutes and share some of the things I'd learned in CW. She thought that sounded great, and I ended up talking for 45 minutes, really getting wound up about what I'd learned, and the things these growing writers would benefit from so much. I hit the restroom quick before heading home, and naturally, that being my source of all inspiration, I had a glorious flash of light. This picture--sitting on the couch, rocking back and forth, speaking to the circle of budding students in the warm wood room--would be the organizing theme of my final portfolio! How better to show how much I had internalized the course's material?? Because of my previous outlining, I had been able to share in a very organized manner, which would provide the perfect structure for the piece. Ooh man, I was SO pumped! FINALLY, the inspiration had come!

However, I had the Transport Phenomena final Tuesday to study for. So I did that the rest of the day Monday. When I was done, I figured I'd tick down a bit before bed and tap at the CW portfolio for a few minutes. Hours later, at 3am, my inspiration finally dried up. :-) What a night that was! I closed my laptop on 15 pages of fresh writing--the core for the rest of the week's work--happy beyond words to finally have SOMETHING started.

The final went well Tuesday. Not great, but decent. An 88 out of 100, securing a final tally of 91% for the course. Considering the many weeks of despairing confusion I endured in that class, I'm happy with that. After the test I limped around for an hour or so registering for intermediate physical chemistry for the spring. My knee was especially bad that day, so when I got home I pretty much just flopped down in the family room and watched "From Russia With Love." Didn't do a whole lot of work on the portfolio that day 'cause I was bushed.

Wednesday Mom and Daniel drove to Chicago since Grandpa had taken a turn for the worse after his first round of chemo. I went to see Dr. Michael Paul about my knee, and received a very unsatisfactory diagnosis. He said it was the tendon on the outside of the knee, that even though my entire knee would roar in pain, "That's just the way it feels," and that the "cure" was to massage it with ice for 20 minutes 3 times a day for 6 weeks. Hm. I was so irritated that my knee felt FINE that day, when on Tuesday it was in excruciating, debilitating pain. Stupid joint!

Wednesday evening I psyched myself up for the big push. I had to get it basically finished up so I would have Thursday to work with it, edit it, and craft it, as I was claiming to have learned to do. So I kept the light on, ate lots of food, and worked feverishly with the mounds of papers on the floor and the miles of little black words on the screen. I was up till 5am, and miraculously remained productive until the bitter end. Unusual for me this semester, as my late-night capabilities have been drying up. By the time I staggered into bed and flopped there with churning mind and restless limbs I had laid out 38 pages of writing, which my mind could not quite compass. Finally I slipped into a dead sleep, from which I rose myself at around 9:30.

Thursday I had to drive to NOVA Chemicals, my co-op job, to get a drug test in preparation for returning to work for the spring semester. So I showered, grabbed a shoddy breakfast and a can of cherry-vanilla Dr.Pepper, and headed out. I had been planning on going to the Quinlisks after the test since Rebekah and come PHC'ers were stopping by on their way back to Ohio. However, I found out as I was leaving that they had called of the visit due to the henious sleety-freezy-rainy-snowy slickerizing stuff falling from the glowering gray skies. Not a bad call :-P And is it turns out, that was their destiny...

For, unencumbered now with commitments, I decided to drift into the Midway (sweet bar & grill by NOVA) and partake of one of their fabled "cajun chicken salads with ranch and a Dr.Pepper" for an early lunch. Earlier that day I had printed out the current draft of the final portfolio so I could work on it while I waited for the drug test. So, sitting in the booth with NOTHING else to turn my mind upon, I read it over in print (which somehow enables much better proofreading and editing) and had a glorious, epiphinaical (??) writing experience for almost 3 hours. One salad and four Dr.Peppers later I waltzed out the door brimming with excitement--I had finished the piece, figured out how to end it, how to tie the last needed components into the structure, written pages of great material, and brought it to a state nearing finality. I can't really describe how wonderful that time was there, sitting in that awesome little restaurant, feeling the inspiration flow, jotting down with jittery, eager hand the words and sentences that locked in so well, expressing what I had been striving for in the past week.
It was wonderful, and I didn't mind the ice on the roads on the way home, I just cranked Petra and had one of those great music-listening experiences that come along every month or so. The big honkin' post about that album was the result of that drive.

What a time that was! Truly one of the high points of the semester, and probably the peak of this mountain that has been the CW final portfolio, which as a whole stands as one of the greatest, most difficult, and most rewarding of my college endeavors.

So, yeah, I came home and pretty much spent the rest of that afternoon writing that Petra post and resting my mind.

Then came the BIG push. The night to end all nights. The indescribable evening, night and morning of frenetic work, mind-numbing thinking, and a terrifyingly large body of material to summarize, work in detail with, finish up, and perfect.

Well, not perfect. I collapsed into bed that night kicking myself for generating THIRTY-NINE pages of writing. Thirty-nine! You idiot! It's supposed to be tight, succinct, focused. You've blabbered on and on, adding new stuff every time you go over a section, and geez o man, I couldn't even read through the whole thing at the end--I have no idea if it's repetitive, unorganized...I just don't know what's IN there! It's so huge, and I've totally screwed up this last and most important project, and I've got to get up in 3 hours and go take my Systems & Signals final! And then I drive to Akron and the weekend roars away. Dude, I'm just gonna die, and I'm laying here and I can't sleep and I need to sleep! Ugh. Double-ugh and good grief I'm turning this in tomorrow :-(

Mmm, Friday morning came with the honking of the alarm and the non-sleepy non-feelingness of lack-of-sleep and mental fuzziness. I finished packing for Akron, stopped at Get-Go for gas, and crawled through the rush-hour traffic into Pitt. I had been hoping to at least have 5 or 10 minutes to skim over the equations sheet for S&S, but alas, after the search for a parking spot I hobbled in to the room, sat down, Dr. Stetten gave the the test, and I just launched right in.

Mercifully, the test went as I had hoped--I had learned everything so well over the semester (due to Dr. Stetten's fantastic, revelatory, deep-thinking teaching) that I had no problem at all with the problems, and turned it in after a little more than an hour. With that brief exercise out of the way I rushed to the computer lab, popped in my memory stick, and began to read through the final portfolio. Thank You Lord, that hour turned out to be exactly what I needed. I was able to read through the whole thing, get a grasp of what was in it, catch stupid mistakes, and clarify a few important points. I reprinted it, and held it in my hand with new confidence that it was good, that the 39 pages were all there for a reason, and that I was ready to turn it in as the culmination of this class-of-classes.

So I stopped by to tell Shannon we'd be late in heading out, bought a different folder to put it in, and hobbled quickly and painfully to the Cathedral of Learning, to 626J, the cozy little office wherein sat Dr. Kafka, some of her students, a stack of similar (though thinner) portfolios, and a spread of sweet Godiva chocolates. I handed her my baby, talked for a bit, and finally bid Kafka adeiu. It had been an amazing semester, and I am pretty sure that 40 years from now I will still remember this class, and Dr. Kafka, and some of the things I learned and first put into practice over these months. I too hope this is not the last time we run into eachother.

*really really honkin' big long sigh*

So, my semester was over! I limped over to my car through the uneven ice on the sidewalks free from assignments, tests, homework, projects--all those things which weigh down the future during a semester of classes. Shannon was walking up too, and we got in Pepsi blue and headed out for a crazy weekend in Akron. I again marveled at the theraputic effects of driving a stick shift automobile. One of the favorite lines I've ever written, because it captures so perfectly my feeling at that time, and other times, is " I rolled through the countryside, like driving through a picturesque puzzle scene, and let the Mazda’s eager engine pull along my happy, aching heart." That's pretty much how I felt as I exited Pitt that day, except it was my mind and knee that were aching, and that happiness was anticipatory, not memorial.

So we drove through the grey, white and brown landscape, which made me miss the warm days of summer when I would blow through the green hills and plains with a bright blue sky above me and sunshine in my heart. This weekend was as sweet as any summer trip, though, and it was unique in that I got to be an integral part of one of the Hoffman's dance productions--something I've long anticipated.

Ahh, how to write about the weekend efficiently, yet not let fall important details, to slip out of my memory forever.

Um, the drive went quickly, it was cool to have somebody else along. We got to the H's and everybody was engaged in preparations for the rehearsal at 4. Steve left for his final, Mike arrived, Shannon jumped right in with helping, and I staggered around in a daze :-P Eventually everybody left to set stuff up and I had an hour at home to take a nap and come for the actual rehearsal. Then the door opened, and I heard women's voices that I didn't recognize... It turns out Mike had stopped by the Duke/Duchess gas station to invite Elisa to the dance show, but didn't have any invitations with him, so they stopped by the house to grab on. Her sister was with her as well, and we ended up hanging around and talking for about half an hour. Apparently my half-sleepy state furnished amusement for my impromptu guests, which I was happy enough to provide. Eventually I got myself together and shoveled Mike and everybody out to the door and on our ways.

That evening was the first full rehearsal of the show. It was in a big hall, pretty much like a gym, but without basketball hoops. I immediately became involved in the sound stuff, and ended up running sound with Criag, while Mike and Shannon ran the lights. The wood floors were filled with dancers--girls from 12 to 19--and some of their parents, and various folks from CoG who were helping out, and of course two stressed-out over-busy Hoffman parents :-) That first rehearsal was pretty rough, with lots of stops and lots of confusion about what the lights and sound were supposed to do. But we got through it, and afterwards had a meeting to go through the script and nail down what was needed. Craig, Stephen and I hung out in Craig's car afterward and listened to Craig's emo music for awhile before heading out and hitting the sack.

Oy. What a night. Let's just say that you read about it in the papers every day, hear about it in the news, but when the Hoffman's neighbor showed up at our doorstep at 2am with her teeth busted in and blood covering her shirt, domestic violence became real to me. Thus followed an unreal 2 hours in which Mr. Hoffman called 911, a cop came, and Mr. H called her parents, at her direction, and got them to come over. Her overriding concern, through the alcohol and all, was that her kids were still in the house with him (her husband), and she just wanted them to be ok, and was terrified that he would hurt them. The police officer arrived mercifully fast, and found everything ok at the house. He arrested the guy, her parents arrived to stay with the kids, and then he came back to the Hoffmans. After assuring her that the kids were ok, he took an account from her, and Steve, Mike and I retired to the den, from which we listened silently, with wide eyes, to everything that transpired. She had indeed been punched by her husband, several times according to one of her scattered accounts. She and he had gone to the bar (obviously got drunk), got into an argument, he got home before she did, and when she opened the door, he hit her. Eventually we heard the door open again, and a yellow stretcher rolled into the patch of floor we could see from the den. The EMT checked her out and then someone else took a Reader's Digest (brief summary) of what happened, had her sign some forms, and finally the company wheeled her out the door. Upon which Mr. and Mrs. H came down the steps, as disbelieving as all of us, and we talked and prayed a bit before returning to bed.

A couple things from that experience. First off, the image of her, a pretty lady in her 30's probably, looking so horrific, with cartoonish gaps in her teeth, puffy red face, and that red red blood spattered on her shirt and pants. I can't get it out of my mind, or stop thinking about those teeth knocked out, or the ones pushed up into her jaw. Then comes the realization that her husband had done that to her. And the whole time I was thinking he was some kinda creep, but Mike and Steve said no, he's actually a really nice little guy..helped Steve put gravel on the driveway one day.. Just to see that, within the space of a few hours, he went from being a nice husband to smashing his wife's teeth in, and the only thing that happened between those two times was ALCOHOL. Just in case I was wondering, that stuff is not something to be trifled with. Geez. He had even hit her before, in the past, and not even remembered it. What a substance, that can make someone do what is so opposite their normal nature--what is so far from what they would do in their normal state of mind. *shudder*

So, yeah. Back to bed. Then up groggily but restedly at 11am and on with the day. We hung around the house a bit, Steve left for his basketball game, and eventually we headed over to the hall for the last quick rehearsal and the big shows!

We ran through most of it one last time, once everybody was assembled and ready to go. It went ok, and so we closed the curtain, put on some background music (my Christmas album, heh. Privelige of the sound guy!) and waited for 3:30 to come. It came, we made the rounds on the in-ear communicators to make sure lights, sound and Scott were all ready to go, then Mr. H came up to the sound booth, we cut the house lights and music, I punched channel four in, Mike brought the ellipsoids up, Mr. H walked out on stage, and the show began!

During the actual performances my mind was occupied primarily with adjusting the volume of the music/narration and pausing and starting the tracks at the beginning and end of each dance (mostly Craig's job). When not so occupied, I watched the dances from my side-stage vantage point. They look so effortless from the audience, but when you're up there you see their feet and ankles shaking and quaking under their weight, struggling to hold the perfect balance and keep the smooth movement. And when they all do their dainty little leaps? THUNK THU-THUNK! As I put it to Mrs. Hoffman, they're just a bunch of big honkin' girls on big honkin' feet stomping on the stage. :-D :-D (It got the expected reproachful reaction :-))

The craziest part of the show was when Craig left to be Simeon in one number, and two dances later I was in as one of the wise men. I had to start up track 7 ("The Waiting") and just leave, praying to God that Craig would make his way back to the booth after changing out of his costume in time to pause it at the end. He made it both shows, but just barely. Oog. My part as a wise guy was cool, and according to Rebekah I was the most noble and kingly of the three :-D It is still intriguing to think of who those men actually were, and how the heck they knew what this star meant, and where they came from, and what on earth was it like when they showed up at the door of the little house in Bethlehem?? Weird weird stuff. And I love how we've made "Wise Men" into a term, just like "Garbage Men" or "Mail Men." What do you do for a living? Oh, I'm a wise man. :-P They were men. And they were wise. It's just funny.

In-between the two shows we pretty much just chilled, which was quite nice. All the dancers and helpers were there, in a holding pattern 'till 7:30 rolled around. Craig and I made a trip to the nearby Acme and loaded up on snacks, which made the second show quite a blast. We were munchin' down cheezits and swiss cake rolls and lucky charms, and quaffing IBC rootbeers, toasting the girls as they danced before us, and trying to make them laugh :-) Also between shows I iced my knee, which was doing pretty bad, and got to help Jess weather the arrival of "El Creepo."

That second show was one of the funnest times I've ever had in Akron. Right up there with the contra dance night and, I dunno, all those other crazy things I've done there. Me and Craig just chilled and snacked, and he figured out that we could talk at almost normal volume and no one could hear us, 'cause we were back behind all the speakers. So yes, it was a rollicking good time!

And then we had the long strung-out half hanging-out half tearing-down time afterwards. Quite fun just wandering around, talking to the dance people, joking around with the little kids, doing some work, eating more food..

Finally we trickled out the door, loaded up Shannon's stuff from the Murphy's car, stole Jess's flowers (Philip, I love you!), and headed to the Hoffman's. More tired, absent-minded hanging out, and finally I headed out the door into the cold and on to the long dark drive home. Between Shannon being there to talk with and the witch doctor drugs Mrs. H zapped me up with, I stayed awake quite well on the drive. But for the thought of the soft couch and the warm beagle, which seriously made me feel much tireder when I thought of it. Ah well. I dropped Shannon off at 2:30, got home at 3, and got to bed at 3:30. Another whirlwind Akron weekend, and a wonderful and unique experience of getting to be a part of the dance show.

Currently, I'm winding up the day, anticipating getting up at 5:30am and going to my first day of work for the new co-op rotation, and wishing I had done some recording today. "Trav'ling Far Into the Night" is coming along beautifully, and just needs a finalized bass track and drums. Drums are the kicker--beastly hard to record, but oh so important to make the song sound good. The vocals went well, though, and I'm quite happy with the electric guitar straight out of the GT-6.

I work Wednesday and Thursday, then Dad and I drive to Chicago for Christmas. I return by myself Monday (boooooo) and continue working that week. Hopefully I'll get Thursday and Friday off, and maybe go up to Akron, or just sit at home and eat and record. We'll see. Grandpa's got pneumonia in both lungs and other problems from not sleeping much and being in the hospital. Ugh. It's really saddening to have this situation envelope our family, and to realize that last Christmas, in Utah, may well have been the last normal Christmas like the ones I've known all my life. Ever. We'll see. But regardless, in a few years Grandma and Grandpa will both be gone, and that feels much closer now, and it is just sad. Alas for the carefree days of good health and good times that once were. The good times will continue, as will life in all its good and bad, but they will all be changed.

So, yeah, I'm super tired and hungry from fasting all day, and it's just really sad when you don't eat food, and this post has taken me four solid hours to write and I didn't get any recording done today and I have to get up at 5:30 and Christmas is gonna be weird and sorta sad, and Akron is sweet and work starts again, all day every day, and mostly I just wish I could eat somethin'.

And I'm really glad this semester's over. What a lightening, and how sweet to end it on a good note, and to finish that portfolio well. Yay :-)

I wish I could finish this off better, but I'm brain-dead and needin' bed, so off I go. Peace.

--JPB