The Cement Ship

Last Saturday morning I hauled myself over to Seacliff State Beach to meet up with a small group of women for an ocean swim. The idea was to get our feet wet (ha ha!) with a practice swim around the Pino Alto. We have all signed up for the Mermaid Triathlon.

Pino Alto. That’s the christened name of the half-sunk, stinky, crumbling, flat-out-ugly cement ship now used as an excuse for a fishing pier. It juts out into the Monterey Bay about 200 or so yards. (The triathlon includes a 400-yard swim - 200 + 200 = 400.) You can see it on the Calif. State Parks site: http://www.parks.ca.gov/default.asp?page_id=543

I’ll be honest. I was scared to swim out that far. Also, it seems creepy to get anywhere close to the cement ship, the fishing line and hooks draped over the side, and the seals and birds that hang out there.
Bright idea! I’ll bring my boogie board and just paddle. I talked my dear friend Connie into this seemingly great idea, too. We can’t die out there if we have big-old boogie boards to hang on to.

Within seconds of hitting the water, I knew the folly of my plan. It is MUCH TOUGHER to push a fat, thick board forward than it is to just plain swim. Arms are the key, baby. You can’t efficiently use your arms to pull you through the water if you’re holding on to a boogie board! Our mermaid sisters, swimming, quickly distanced themselves from Connie and me. We could see their tiny heads bopping up, making their way straight out to sea.

As it turned out, one swimmer, amazingly a bit older than I, was not making much progress. In fact, she was having trouble. I assumed the role of lifeguard for the rest of the journey, staying near her, and sharing the flotation device. She and I made it around the cement ship, talking our way through bouts of hyperventilation and fear. The others, including Connie, were happily chatting on the beach while they waited for us to safely arrive on shore.

So you see, the boogie board turned out to be a good thing in the end.

Sailing High

Back a few years ago, during one of my trips to NYC, I came across this display. Lots of canoes and kayaks and skinny boats all glomed together, flying high above a plaza. What a metaphor, don't you think? Or, make that metaphors (plural). Crash. Fly. Color on high.

Now that the Olympics are over, the Democratic Convention is taking its place in the inspiration department. Just the sight of Nancy Pelosi brings tears to my eyes. I am not kidding. She is #3 in the land, ladies and gentlemen. She rocks!

Middle School is Supposed to be Fun

For some reason, the kids at school were really in good spirits today. It was the end of the second week of school. Maybe they are all in a groove now, remembering how much more fun it is to see all the other kids every day. As opposed to sitting on the couch in front of the tube at home.

Speaking of television, today all of my 70 students had to write an essay about a TV show. They also had the option of choosing a book, but they overwhelmingly choose shows. Man Versus Wild, Wild Boyz, and Family Guy. Ellen, Tyra Banks, Queen Bees, and America's Next Top Model. Sponge Bob Square Pants, Dora the Explorer, and Tom and Jerry. Thank you, god, for the ONE boy who wrote about the Harry Potter series. He mentions that Harry is courageous. I just love it that he wrote that.

On the Couch

It is comforting to know that my handsome husband is in full control. Of the remote control. Important concepts: comfort and control. Very manly, don't you think?

Back to School, Baby

Teacher Me is back at work. I am totally in the swing of things.

Four days of class, and the **!!?! teacher has given homework and a quiz?! Yes, she has. Scores are posted, baby. I've even kept a handful of kids after school. Naughty naughty! Didn't do your homework.

The toughest thing about going back to work is bedtime. It is really, really hard to turn off the Olympics on TV. Damn, I love those athletes. So sublime. So amazingly good looking. Faster, stronger, higher. Inspirational. Makes me proud to be a people.

A note about the photos: The ladies are taking a break from a frentic shopping day in SF's China Town. The beach is my old neighborhood - the end of Seabright Avenue in dear old Santa Cruz.

Triathlete? Me again?

The photo proves one thing only - that I crossed the finish line at the Wharf to Wharf run. Six long miles. Big deal.

Next is the Mermaid triathlon. Yes, TRI, as in three events. It's a "do-able" event, I tell myself. In terms of distances. And it's right in my own backyard. Swim in the Monterey Bay, about a 1/4 mile around the goofy old cement boat. Then bike for 11 miles. Finally, a 2 1/2 mile run. Anyone can do that, right?

Maybe I'll be the only person in my age group. That would be great! I'll win a trophy! First place finisher in the 55+ age group AND the last person to cross the finish line. What a distinction!

Playing Tourist Again

Elene, Erin, and Mary Jo are just the kind of friends with whom you want to spend a day in San Francisco. The agenda of each, gathered together and sequenced just right, produced a perfect day.

Erin purchased silly stuff in China Town. Gifts for her co-workers, perhaps? A dollar goes pretty far on Grant Street.

Mary Jo, on the other hand, probably needs a loan to get what she wants. It's a condo just a few steps down from Coit Tower.

For Elene it's shoes, shoes, shoes. Nevertheless, she purchased sleek new black pants instead. We insisted.

No day in The City is complete without some Italian food in North Beach, and of course a coctail or two. Cheers!

School Daze

An apple for the teacher is clearly inadequate. What I really need is a life raft.

The desks have been scrubbed. There are 75 notebooks ready to be given to students, thanks to super “back to school” deals at Target. My classroom won’t be this clean and tidy again for at least 9 months. The trouble is, I’m nervous as hell. I can’t quite remember what to do when the students arrive.

This happens every year. I forget how to take the very first step. Should I smile and let on what a nice person I am? Or should I maintain a stern demeanor? They say “Don’t smile until after Christmas.” This is supposed to establish my alpha dog position. They also say that students learn more when they genuinely like the teacher, and therefore try to please her. It’s a coin toss, really. Either way, you’ve got only a dime.