Weekends are highly regarded in Americorps NCCC, as they represent a chance to travel, move autonomously, or sleep. Quick tangent: So roughly 5 of my 8 teammates religiously take naps. We get an hour for lunch during weekdays, and they return to our Science Lab / Kitchen, scarf down some food, then sleep for 30 minutes before returning to work. I've never been a napper (unless I'm on a long car ride), so I have trouble understanding their motives. They always wake up groggy and stupid, so why do they do it? I have no idea. The most annoying part about it is that only Team Leader sets an alarm, so I have to go wake up everybody else 5 minutes before we leave, resulting in that just-woke-up wide eyed stare/glare that says, "why did you wake me up you bastard?" So this is what elder sibling's responsibility feels like. My sympathies to all you older brothers and sisters out there.
Back on track: Weekends. Throughout the week there is talk of how the upcoming weekend will be spent. There are 3 possible responses to ideas brought up:
1. Serious Interest - The group latches on to the idea like ticks in an animal shelter. Enthusiasm abundant. Other teammates push the idea, even help to organize it. Although 1 or 2 naturally oppose the decision, it gets passed through congress and the house, and the president signs it into law. We go out and do it that weekend.
2. Shoot Down - The idea gets shot down. The idea's architect is resentful and less prone to support other ideas. Everyone quickly moves on with their lives.
3. Mild Interest - This is where things get interesting. The proposed idea gets mild interest, generating responses like "that's a good idea, I'd like to do that." Notice the lack of commitment in that reply. Mild interest ideas receive a modest following, but it's generally spurious interest. The time to potentially do the activity comes around, and still nobody is sure if it will happen. We all wait around for somebody to initiate it. Finally, the idea gets brought up again, and the same uncommittal answer is received. Ultimately, we don't do it. Mild interest ideas generally don't get done.
Quick example: It's a Saturday afternoon, the whole team is back at the school, talking on the phone, making lunch, or sitting down staring at a wall. Team Leader has taken the van to go to the gym (our school gym doesn't have enough weights or machines for his liking.) He'll be back in an hour. We've heard of this giant sporting goods store called Scheels that is located in an outdoor mall complex about 10 minutes away, so one girl proposes we go there. There's also other shopping options, some outlets, etc. The idea generates mild interest. We wait around until Team Leader returns, than a majority commits to going, but in an hour or so. As the hour passes, people get involved in streamed reality shows or phone conversations or continue to stare at the fascinating wall. Another hour passes. The idea gets brought up again, and we all say "Yea, let's do it, just give me a couple minutes." 30 minutes passes. Eventually, some girls realize that they could do laundry and go to Borders to use free wireless internet (which we don't have), and that idea is met with serious interest by 1 other person, the minimum number of proponents requisite for attainment. The idea of going to Scheels came up first, but because it produced mild interst, it never happened. Mild interest is idealism; Ideally we would like to go to Scheels and the mall complex, but in actuality staying home offers just enough to deem it not worthwhile.
I've learned to avoid these curious and sometimes obnoxious group equivocations by taking the van by myself at odd hours. Lately I've been watching World Cup games at 7 AM, way before anyone else has awoken. In fact, I usually get back before anyone has eaten breakfast. Mornings are the best bet. I have until about 11 AM to get the van back. I suppose I shouldn'thave been so apologetic towards older siblings earlier in this post. I never knew they had such good morning hours to avoid brats like me.
Sunday, June 27, 2010
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Reno, Nevehda
It's Nevaahda. Not Nevawda. The locals get grumpy when you say Nevawda. So think of a baby crying: "Weeeaaahhhh". Get rid of the 'W', throw in the 'eeaahhhhh' and that's how you say Nevada. Annoying, but acceptable. The new spelling of Nevada, however, is Nevehda.
We stormed into Reno this past week, with only Team Leader getting more than 3 hours of sleep. I got back to Sac in a haze of wedding disorder and shell-shock at 2 AM. But I wasn't packed. Pack, sleep, wake up by 7 AM, drive baby drive. That first day was a blur and a half. Only the next day did I wake up to fully realize that I was living in an arts, careers, and technology charter school a stone's throw from downtown Reno.
Have you ever lived in a school? No? It's like a bad dream where you wake up and are forced to live in your old Earth Science classroom. You can do wahtever you like to the room. Shove the tables in the corner, stack the chairs on them. You want to take down the posters? Sure. But by no means does it become a bedroom. Now it's just an Earth Science classroom that you sleep in, on uncomfortable cots about shoulder length wide with two metal bars running lengthwise that are great for bonking your head on at 3:30 AM following a rollover. There's one computer desk in the corner that, while anyone sits at, immediately promotes them to teacher-of-the-room status. It's required of the computer user to sneak sidelong glances at the rest of the room, as high school teachers were prone to do. It's like some spell is cast as soon as you sit at the teacher's computer, a spell necessitating that the user knows what is happening beyond the realm of the computer screen. OK, that's enough. We live in a school. Our kitchen is the Science Lab. It's weird.
Reno itself isn't all that bad. To repudiate my prior claims and set the record straight, Reno is not, in fact, a dessert, but a city perched 5,000 feet above sea level (for some perspective, Denver, the mile high city, is 5,280 feet above sea level). The city has a great view from every angle: It's surrounded by the Sierra Nevehda Mountain Range, some of whom have snow on their tops. So as you desiccate yourself working outside in 90 degree heat, the mountains leer down at you, just daring you to swipe some of there snow off their summit's and plop it on your neck. Every bar has some form of video poker in it. Dangerous. Reno's a really simple city, easy to get around, little traffic, everything available in 15 minutes or so. Gambling is synonymous with Reno, but it can be avoided, leaving a fun little city to enjoy. I don't particularly mind it at all.
Been here one week, job's good. We're moving desks, tables, chairs, electronics and anything else school's use to educate around a warehouse, getting it prepared to be replaced, reused, or trashed. We will be changing jobs weekly or biweekly, and are left mostly in the dark as to what we will be doing. But who cares. 4 weeks left. Fuck it.
Quick funny story. I watched the USA-Slovenia World cup game from a downtown casino at 7 AM on Friday morning. Apparently, Reno casino's are not soccer hotspots, as I was alone at a table in the bar area. Of the 12 tables available, I was the only one seated. A couple degenerate gamblers sat at the bar, not interested in the game. I got some breakfast, sat down, and watched the game. USA scored two goals in teh second half. At the first one, I individually stood up, clapped my hands and yelled at the TV screen, drawing a few puzzled looks and stirring from teh bar members. When USA tied it up with the second goal, I jumped into the air and started high-fiving the bar dwellers, and to my surprise, they matched my excitement with whoops and high fives of their own. I don't know if they knew what was going on or even that soccer was a sport, but they seemed happy to have some new blood in their casino (except one really old curmudgeon who threatened to kick my ass if I ever shook his hand again.) On the third goal that was disallowed (awful call) I yelled so loudly that the kitchen staff came out to see what the commotion was, and I had to tuck my tail between my legs and explain to them that I had celebrated prematurely. Luckily, most of them were Latino and understood the game of soccer. They stuck around to watch the rest of the match. I even got the casino manager interested in the match. Just spreadin' the appeal of soccer throughout the globe.
We stormed into Reno this past week, with only Team Leader getting more than 3 hours of sleep. I got back to Sac in a haze of wedding disorder and shell-shock at 2 AM. But I wasn't packed. Pack, sleep, wake up by 7 AM, drive baby drive. That first day was a blur and a half. Only the next day did I wake up to fully realize that I was living in an arts, careers, and technology charter school a stone's throw from downtown Reno.
Have you ever lived in a school? No? It's like a bad dream where you wake up and are forced to live in your old Earth Science classroom. You can do wahtever you like to the room. Shove the tables in the corner, stack the chairs on them. You want to take down the posters? Sure. But by no means does it become a bedroom. Now it's just an Earth Science classroom that you sleep in, on uncomfortable cots about shoulder length wide with two metal bars running lengthwise that are great for bonking your head on at 3:30 AM following a rollover. There's one computer desk in the corner that, while anyone sits at, immediately promotes them to teacher-of-the-room status. It's required of the computer user to sneak sidelong glances at the rest of the room, as high school teachers were prone to do. It's like some spell is cast as soon as you sit at the teacher's computer, a spell necessitating that the user knows what is happening beyond the realm of the computer screen. OK, that's enough. We live in a school. Our kitchen is the Science Lab. It's weird.
Reno itself isn't all that bad. To repudiate my prior claims and set the record straight, Reno is not, in fact, a dessert, but a city perched 5,000 feet above sea level (for some perspective, Denver, the mile high city, is 5,280 feet above sea level). The city has a great view from every angle: It's surrounded by the Sierra Nevehda Mountain Range, some of whom have snow on their tops. So as you desiccate yourself working outside in 90 degree heat, the mountains leer down at you, just daring you to swipe some of there snow off their summit's and plop it on your neck. Every bar has some form of video poker in it. Dangerous. Reno's a really simple city, easy to get around, little traffic, everything available in 15 minutes or so. Gambling is synonymous with Reno, but it can be avoided, leaving a fun little city to enjoy. I don't particularly mind it at all.
Been here one week, job's good. We're moving desks, tables, chairs, electronics and anything else school's use to educate around a warehouse, getting it prepared to be replaced, reused, or trashed. We will be changing jobs weekly or biweekly, and are left mostly in the dark as to what we will be doing. But who cares. 4 weeks left. Fuck it.
Quick funny story. I watched the USA-Slovenia World cup game from a downtown casino at 7 AM on Friday morning. Apparently, Reno casino's are not soccer hotspots, as I was alone at a table in the bar area. Of the 12 tables available, I was the only one seated. A couple degenerate gamblers sat at the bar, not interested in the game. I got some breakfast, sat down, and watched the game. USA scored two goals in teh second half. At the first one, I individually stood up, clapped my hands and yelled at the TV screen, drawing a few puzzled looks and stirring from teh bar members. When USA tied it up with the second goal, I jumped into the air and started high-fiving the bar dwellers, and to my surprise, they matched my excitement with whoops and high fives of their own. I don't know if they knew what was going on or even that soccer was a sport, but they seemed happy to have some new blood in their casino (except one really old curmudgeon who threatened to kick my ass if I ever shook his hand again.) On the third goal that was disallowed (awful call) I yelled so loudly that the kitchen staff came out to see what the commotion was, and I had to tuck my tail between my legs and explain to them that I had celebrated prematurely. Luckily, most of them were Latino and understood the game of soccer. They stuck around to watch the rest of the match. I even got the casino manager interested in the match. Just spreadin' the appeal of soccer throughout the globe.
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
Predictions #1
Reno Odds:
1. Our task at the Washoe County School District is all-intensive. Our time and energy are put towards weekday hours. We are too tired from the week to do much more than explore Reno, save one weekend where we hit up South Lake Tahoe. Unable to stand each other anymore, the "team" splinters apart, resulting in a drunken street/casino brawl, complete with flying chips, smashed cocktail glasses and giant bouncers escorting us out. We go home without any legal repercussions. Chances: 2%
2. Same as 1, but the Reno 911 cops show up, imprison us in a cell of comedy overnight, then forget to keep watch and we walk out. We are on tv, and become celebrities overnight. Chances: 5%
3. I continuously forget to apply suntan lotion to my face and arms. The dry dessert heat slowly melts my constantly peeling body. I go home in a world of pain and misery. Chances: 3%
4. I continuously forget to apply suntan lotion to my face and arms. The dry dessert heat slowly bronzes my muscular body. I go home and get all the babes. Chances: 10%
5. With the end in sight, I drink heavily as I count down the days until we finish. Eventually, I lose track of my sober existence, my team disowns me, and then leaves me in Reno. I live out my days a hopeless and homeless bum. Chances: .01%
6. I come up with the idea that Reno should rename itself "Las Vegas, But Cheaper". It is met with much fanfare, and I am immediately hired to run a variety of city real estate ventures. I fanagle it so that I end up owning multiple lucrative luxury casinos, and live out my days philanthropically. Chances: 20%
7. I decide that I do actually want to go pro in sports, start up the Reno Pro Curling League and win the championship every year. Chances: 2%
8. I slowly find myself seated more and more at the casino's poker tables. This time is different, however, because my new volunteering alter ego can't stomach winning other folks' money. I realize my destiny: To siphen off all of my stipend money from the Americorps program by purposefully losing at the poker table. I'm dead broke as July heats up, but I know deep down that this is stupid, but the volunteerism has taken over. There's not going back.
Chances 57.99%
1. Our task at the Washoe County School District is all-intensive. Our time and energy are put towards weekday hours. We are too tired from the week to do much more than explore Reno, save one weekend where we hit up South Lake Tahoe. Unable to stand each other anymore, the "team" splinters apart, resulting in a drunken street/casino brawl, complete with flying chips, smashed cocktail glasses and giant bouncers escorting us out. We go home without any legal repercussions. Chances: 2%
2. Same as 1, but the Reno 911 cops show up, imprison us in a cell of comedy overnight, then forget to keep watch and we walk out. We are on tv, and become celebrities overnight. Chances: 5%
3. I continuously forget to apply suntan lotion to my face and arms. The dry dessert heat slowly melts my constantly peeling body. I go home in a world of pain and misery. Chances: 3%
4. I continuously forget to apply suntan lotion to my face and arms. The dry dessert heat slowly bronzes my muscular body. I go home and get all the babes. Chances: 10%
5. With the end in sight, I drink heavily as I count down the days until we finish. Eventually, I lose track of my sober existence, my team disowns me, and then leaves me in Reno. I live out my days a hopeless and homeless bum. Chances: .01%
6. I come up with the idea that Reno should rename itself "Las Vegas, But Cheaper". It is met with much fanfare, and I am immediately hired to run a variety of city real estate ventures. I fanagle it so that I end up owning multiple lucrative luxury casinos, and live out my days philanthropically. Chances: 20%
7. I decide that I do actually want to go pro in sports, start up the Reno Pro Curling League and win the championship every year. Chances: 2%
8. I slowly find myself seated more and more at the casino's poker tables. This time is different, however, because my new volunteering alter ego can't stomach winning other folks' money. I realize my destiny: To siphen off all of my stipend money from the Americorps program by purposefully losing at the poker table. I'm dead broke as July heats up, but I know deep down that this is stupid, but the volunteerism has taken over. There's not going back.
Chances 57.99%
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