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7 april 2002

if you're looking foras i see it. yes, you're welcome to send it to friends. just give credit where credit is due, thankee. don't make my mom come over there.

miss holzer

For some time now, I've been seriously asking myself, "what are you doing here? I mean, really doing?" I've felt on the verge of something, but I wasn't quite sure what it was. I have felt very much as if I'm standing on the edge of the plate, just before the earthquake.

Last month, my tech writing contract ended. The project was complete, the company had reorganized, and my work there was finished. I walked out the door with a friend. I looked behind me. And then I realized, with great force, that I don't care to walk through one of those doors again. I was so over speaking in senseless acronyms, the word "synergy", the bottom line, and knowing what so-and-so can "bring to the table" (and it wasn't food).

Sometimes, people ask me why I write. My answer is always the same, and it's simple. I need to.

It's not enough anymore.

For years now, I've known that there is one other thing that makes my heart happy. Giddy, even. I've dipped my toes in the water from time to time. There were my years as a Girl Scout camp counselor, and then program director. There was my year on the road with Poetry Alive. There are my occasional classroom workshops and school performances throughout the country. I never work harder then at those times. It never really feels like work.

I've always said, "someday, I'll teach." Kimmy, meet Someday. Shake hands.

I bit my lip (no, really. Ow.) I drove to the central education office, where I did some work for the county curriculum coordinators last summer. I discussed my decision with the language arts coordinator, who was happy, endlessly helpful, and told me to bring everything back and place it in her hands. I spent a few days completing more paperwork than I've ever done in my life. That, and shaking.

Two days later, I got called to a principal's office.

Two hours later, I got that giddy feeling again.

I think the weirdest adjustment will be having my English and social studies students call me "Miss Holzer". Several of my friends have mentioned a noticeable twinkle in my eyes this week. The assistant superintendent said he hadn't seen an ear-to-ear grin this big in a long time.

On Friday night, I drank my first-ever Sangria. That, and learned how to do the meringue and salsa in most neato company. A few more of those each week, and a spin on the dance floor for poops and giggles, and I'll get through my first two years just fine.