Should I Stay or Should I Go Now?

I know someone who recently asked this question, was told to stay, and ended up making a fly hula hoop and cuddling with a cute just-post-college girl under a carpet for three hours during a sandstorm.

My situation is not entirely similar, so I do not think the aforementioned chain of events will be one thing that might occur in my own life if I stay--I am not talking about whether or not to leave the playa after three underwhelming days at Burning Man. I am talking about whether to keep writing this blog or not.

This blog began more than a year ago to chronicle my adventures in what was meant to be everywhere from Yosemite to New Hampshire, Israel to Ghana, India and beyond. Now I am back and the final post has been written, yet I find that I keep not posting it. I keep feeling like there is more I have to say.

When I was traveling it was less of an ego-involved thing to write about what was going on in my life, because some of it was objectively unique and somewhat interesting: for example, the time I thought that the Friday afternoon air raid siren emanating from the open-air market in Jerusalem meant that we should get the gas masks and shelter in place in our apartment building's bomb shelter, when really it just meant that Shabbat had begun. Now that I am no longer halfway around the world, or even in Big Sur or the Midwest or the mountains, anything that I write is inherently all about me and my own observations and I just can't quite believe that anyone besides myself is interested enough in anything like that. I mean, I know, lots of people have blogs. But when it's (all about) yourself, it's different somehow.

My previous blog went on for years, is still going on even now from time to time (but not recently so if you read it don't go checking and getting all excited) but that blog was not written by me, it was written under a pseudonym which meant that while *someone* was busy having a colorful life I didn't have to concern myself with the potentially egomaniacal element of it because it wasn't me writing, anyway.

And in this case, the title certainly doesn't fit anymore at all. Gone away somewhere? The only place I go anymore is to Oakland. Not such a huge and elaborate, blog-worthy journey most days...

I need some time to think about this.

Earthquake!

We are sitting on the couch eating dinner and watching a movie. Suddenly, about ten minutes ago just as the Incredibly Deadly Viper was about to not bite Uncle Monty, there was an earthquake. It was the shaking kind, not the rolling kind or the slamming kind, and we looked right away on craigslist to find the quake map. It turns out the epicenter was 14 miles away just outside of Alamo, the source was ten miles below ground, and the magnitude was 4.0. As a family project we filed a report at the United States Geological Survey website and now our experiences will be added to the observations of other scientists all around Northern California.

Homecooked dinner, PG-rated movie, earthquake. Shabbat Shalom, kulam--have a great weekend, everybody. And if there are any aftershocks, just brace yourself in a doorway or duck and cover under a table (but don't forget to grab onto one of the legs of the table so it doesn't scoot away from you).

Why I Teach

My career as a blogger began five years ago now, when Matt first suggested I start taking some of the ridiculous hilarious heartwrenching amazing tales of my life in Third Grade and sharing them with the world. I spent considerable time after that telling a combination of school stories and life stories using a pseudonym for anonymity, yet even then didn't avoid exposure so I've been gunshy about blogging as a teacher ever since. But, sometimes the source material is too fabulous not to share. This photo documents today's journal entry from one of my students. This photo explains why I teach.

transcription due to poorly-lit PhotoBooth image (translation from Kid to English in parentheses):
Sarah Thak you Sarah.
Fr hapt (helped) me when I ferd (feeled)
Sad. Tha(n)k you agen (again) Sarah.