The Scamp Abroad

The Scamp All Packed

Posted on May 30, 2015 by erranteditor

but ready to go?

Today I moved the last of my things that will not be going with me to Scotland. All of my pots, pans, Tupperware, cooking utensils, forks, knives, and a desk that I barely used, but did serve as a secure place for all my bills, pay stubs, and kept all of my notes, textbooks, and school related things while I was working on my MA.

I haven’t actually looked at most of this stuff for the last three years, but when I was moving the box of Tupperware, it broke open and I was flooded with memories of the last ten years with some of those things. It seems so final now that they are gone, most of my clothes and shoes are packed, and the things that I cannot take now are already postmarked to be shipped for a later date. It all seems so permanent now. I am not coming back to live in the United States. By this time next week, I will be in London, about to get on a plane for Madrid for a little bit of time to relax before I make my way to Scotland to start my dream job, in my dream city, and finally reach my goal of completing my PhD. I’ve always wanted adventure, I’ve always been prone to wander, I’ve never been afraid to take a chance, to do things on my own, or to march to the beat of my own drum.

I’ve had the dream of going back to Scotland for two very long years, and the goal to earn my PhD and work in higher education for the last seven years.

I am three weeks away from reaching all of my major goals….and I am fucking terrified.

See, the thing that nobody tells about reaching all of your goals is that it is the scariest thing in the world (and I’ve jumped out of a plane, I have multiple tattoos, travel by myself, and get in a car with my father). I am so terrified that I am going to wake up tomorrow and it will all be a dream. I will still be miserable at Cal State Fullerton, still not have enough money for real insurance, my own apartment, or my massive student loans, and still be profoundly depressed

To be honest, there is no way I could survive a cruel joke like that. Not to mention that I have already sold my car, and most of my possessions.

I know that this fear is normal, and the finality of the situation is starting to sink in, so I am having a momentary freak-out, but it is still a little bit scary.

I’m doing it though. I’m jumping in with both feet, and going to settle into Scotland, and I am going to be a kick-ass expat.

The Scamp and the Gratitude Challenge: Week 22

Posted on May 29, 2015 by erranteditor

Week 22 is something that I use everyday.

There are a lot of things that I use everyday that I am grateful for, but the one thing that I can think of right now is my laptop. Right now, I’m using my laptop to write this post, I’m watching a movie, and pretending to work on some research for my dissertation (I mean, I am working on it, the tabs are open and everything). In a month I will use my laptop to watch TV, listen to music, write, and videochat with my family. It is going to become an important part of my life.

Who am I kidding? It already is an important part of my life. I’m currently on laptop number 4.

Laptop number one was a present from my parents when I graduated high school. It was a Sony Vaio. It didn’t have a webcam, it had a detachable battery with a two hour lifespan, and it was heavy as shit. I use to sit at my desk in Calaveras Hall and write papers and send my mom endless and endless amounts of email. I watched movies on it, listened to music on it, and put together my senior thesis on Mark Twain, and my applications for grad school. the battery finally gave out after 4 years of constant use, I got an upgraded model as a graduation present.

Number 2 was still heavy, had a pretty crap battery life, but had a webcam for Skyping, had better speakers, and had a wood-grain type finish that made it a little fancier. I wrote my MA thesis on that baby, and took it with me to Scotland. Of course, when I got robbed on Christmas a few years ago, it was taken from me. I lost everything. Pictures, music, papers. I failed a class because of that stolen laptop.

Number 3 was a gift from David to make up for the fact that 2 got stolen. It was a Dell, and I loved it. We had matching laptops. It had Windows 8, a flashy webcam, internal battery, and was super light and easy to carry. I toted that thing all over Scotland, to Estonia, Latvia, and California. I wrote my best piece of academic writing on it, used it for everything, and it helped me survive Cal State Fullerton. I loved it.

Two weeks ago, Number 3 blew up. A fan broke, and it made what the Geek Squad guy called the “Rattle of Death”. So now, I have number 4. It is a bit bigger, lacks a CD drive (apparently I am a dinosaur for still wanting one), but is a touch screen, which makes life interesting. I am doing my research for Scotland on it, I will very shortly write my 300th post on it, and it will house all of my memories of my new life in Scotland.

My grandma, and now my mom always says that things happen for a reason. I believe that Number three blew up so I would not take anything that was connected to my life with David, or Cal State Fullerton with me back to Scotland.

I’m going to take as a sign that my life motto has yet to steer me wrong.

“Breathe in the good shit, breathe out the bad shit”

My laptop is my good shit, and I am extremely grateful for it.

The Scamp Hates Packing

Posted on May 27, 2015 by erranteditor

I hate packing. Hate hate hate it. Most of clothes are currently in my shower. Yep. The shower. What isn’t there is littering my floor, stacked outside my room, and generally reminding me that I have only nine days left to get everything organized before I leave for Spain and then return to Scotland. I have three boxes packed so far and about six more to go.

I’m overwhelmed and stressed. I still have so many things that need to make it into a box. Things like shoes, bags, pens and bathroom supplies, chapstick, my wallets, rubber ducks, and family photos.

I have no idea where all of this stuff came from, and I have no idea how I am going to get it all to Scotland….or when. I want the packing and moving fairy to come and take care of everything for me so I do not have to. I’m going to have to buy the apartment I am hoping to rent so that I never have to move again. Not having a car makes things a little more challenging, and I know that everything will come out alright, but in the meantime, I am tired, and very, very overwhelmed.

The Scamp and Memorial Day

Posted on May 26, 2015 by erranteditor

“Although no sculptured marble should rise to their memory, nor engraved stone bear record of their deeds, yet will their remembrance be as lasting as the land they honored. — Daniel Webster

The Scamp and Scottish Fest

Posted on May 26, 2015 by erranteditor

While I should be soaking up the last few days of American culture, I was amercing myself in my new culture. It was a great way to spend a Sunday. Clans were lined up in booths, there was jewelry and trinkets from Scotland, scotch tasting, sheep herding, and of course, highland games. People were decked out in kilts and their clan finery, and it made me excited to go home.

I’m not so excited about all of the packing that I have to do. I’m feeling stressed and overwhelmed. I have so much stuff that needs to go, and it is more than I thought it would be originally. I’m so overwhelmed that I have no idea where to start or what really needs to get done.

The Scamp and the Gratitude Challenge: Week 21

Posted on May 25, 2015 by erranteditor

This is all about summer.

There are a lot of things about summer that I am grateful for. Summer is usually when I have the most time off. The time when I can lay by the pool everyday, wear shorts and sandals, and enjoy the fact that my mom has three months off without school.

Summer=time to recharge

This year summer means Scotland. Summer means traveling, adventure, and then going home after two very stressful years. I’m still worried about what will happen when I get to Scotland. I’m worried that my apartment will fall through and I will have to look again for a place to live. I’m worried about sending my stuff on to Scotland, and having clothes and shoes that are professional enough for work, but fun enough for vacation. I’m worried about finding a job when I get there, and being able to afford all of the upfront costs of the visa, my rent, food, and phone and internet.

I am looking forward to summer though. Summer in Scotland is something that I have yet to really experience. I’m excited for the festival, excited to sit in the park and read a book, excited to watch the military tattoo. I’m excited to hike up Arthur’s Seat and not get caught in the rain (or a snow flurry). I’m looking forward to sunny days to explore new neighborhoods, reaclamating to Scotland.

I have 11 days left in the US. Tomorrow I will start packing and get ready for the move, and for the trip to Spain. I’mm not looking forward to this part of the process. There will be tears…lots of tears, for all of the shoes that I am going to have to leave behind.

The Scamp and Some Queens

Posted on May 25, 2015 by erranteditor

This has been a busy week. So busy, in fact, that I have a lot to say, and each needs to be its own post. I’ll start with The queens. No one loves drag queens more than I love drag queens. When I lived in San Diego, I was a frequent guest at Lips for Gospel Sunday Brunch, bitchy bingo, and two bachelorette parties. When RuPaul started RuPual’s Drag Race seven seasons ago, I was hooked. It was America’s Next Top Model meets Bad Girls Club. I had no idea that they taped the finale in Los Angeles, so when my favorite queen told me he had an extra ticket at the last minute, I cancelled my plans to lay in bed in my pjs all day to go see three queens lip sync for their life.

It was every bit as magical as I hoped it would be. Everything about the day was great. I got to spend some good quality time with my ride or die, his friend who was also a drag queen enthusiast was a blast and a half, and everyone that we met while waiting in line, and once we made it into the theater was great. The 18-year-old girls standing in line behind us made me feel old, and were the strangest groupies that I have ever met, and the group of 40-year-old men trying to look 20 in front of us laughed at my jokes, and provided some very colorful insight into how they thought the finale would play out.

Photo courtesy of I. Noe

Once we got into the theater, we got to watch the queens walk the red carpet, pose for pictures, and do interviews with Logo, and online blogs and fashion sites. Following the red carpet, the queens all went into a makeshift bar and lounge where they took pictures, chatted, and mingled with the guests. Of the 10 or so that we talked to, only one was bitchy. Everyone else was so fun and nice. Many of the girls made their own dresses, and some even offered advice about how to take a proper photo with a drag queen (Always have the flash on, and always put your arm around their waist). Ivan and Katie were starstruck, so while I snapped as many photos as possible with them and the queens, I failed to actually get myself into any of the photos.

Pearl, Violet, and Ginger Minnj, the Season 7 finalists.
Photo courtesy of I. Noe

By far the best outfit of the night.
Photo courtesy of @rupaulsdragrace

Season 6 winner Bianca Del Rio. This bitch stole the show with her opening acts.
Photo courtesy of @thebiancadelrio

The taping was an interesting experience. As this was my first time ever being at a show taping, I was not quite sure what to expect. It was a bit strange to tape all of our reactions to different events before the taping even started. We laughed, we cheered, we looked shocked, we looked sad, we held hands and danced with the people around us….all before we ever saw any of the performances, or the show officially started taping. When the actual taping started, it was a lot of fun to see RuPaul try to read off cue cards, for the queens to lip sync their songs, and to see what their friends and family had to say about them making it this far in the competition. There was even a celebrity in the audience. To be honest, I thought she was one of the drag queens when she came in, but she was nice enough, and seemed very normal…a very drastic change from her usual public persona. It was quite nice to see her that way.

With goes to show you how tall RuPaul really is. Miley Cyrus is 5’4
Photo courtesy of @mileycyrus

Posing with the Season 7 contestants.
Photo courtesy of @mileycyrus

I cannot wait to see the finale all edited together when it airs next week. I’m team Pearl all the way, but Ginger Minj made a strong showing, so it is anyone’s game. Here is a video from the walk down the red carpet for all to enjoy.

The Scamp and the “C” Word

Posted on May 18, 2015 by erranteditor

Of the 15,500 obscure words in the dictionary for the International House of Loggorrhea, 1,317 words start with the letter “C.” Of course, if you take into account the simple, ordinary, everyday words, I am sure that the number is might be about 8,000 or so words that start with the silly little inconsequential letter “C”. Some of my favorite words start with the letter “C”….cat, chicken, cactus, can, courage, compassion, but there is one word that starts with the letter “C” that I just cannot stand.

Cancer. According to dictionary.com, cancer:

noun

Pathology.

a malignant and invasive growth or tumor, especially one originating in epithelium, tending to recur after excision and to metastasize to other sites.

any disease characterized by such growths

Word Origin

C14: from Latin: crab, a creeping tumour; related to Greek karkinos crab, Sanskrit karkata

Cancer sucks. Nothing ever good comes from the word cancer. All that being said, cancer and I have become good friends these last couple of weeks. It was not my choice to become friends, but cancer decided to move in with the one person who means the most to me in this world. Now, this is not the first time that my mom has battled cancer, and the sad thing is, it probably won’t be the last time, but it does not make it any less scary with each time that she has to go under the knife. She has given up quite a bit of nonessential space to cancer over the years (I mean, who needs lymph nodes, or a uterus, or even one of your auditory nerves?), and now she has to give up part of her leg to skin cancer. She has been largely silent while dealing with this, and I honestly went back and forth about whether or not I should make her struggle public. The thing is, writing about it helps me cope. I’ve written about horrible break-ups, deaths, being bullied, being expelled, dealing with horrible, soul crushing depression, so to write about my mom’s cancer seems only natural because it helps me cope.

I’m with my mom everyday. I can see that she is not dying, and I have a feeling that the doc will be able to scoop it all out tomorrow, and other than no longer being allowed to sit in the sun, my mom will be no worse for the wear. Logically, I know all of this to be true. There is still a part of me that is worried that they are going to take the leg, or that the cancer has spread in the month since they found it and are going to remove it. I’m worried that she keeps saying everything will be fine because she doesn’t want us to worry, when in reality, it is really bad. I’ve spent the last three years trying to learn to not borrow trouble before it is due, but it is times like this when I am sitting alone, it is late, and I have way too many things that need to be done, that my mind wanders and I start to think of all the bad things that might happen. It is times like this that I question my choice to move so far away. If she has to go through chemo, there is no one to sit with her and play scrabble, or make bad jokes. If she gets worse, there is no one here to make sure the house stays clean, to cook meals, and to watch bad reality TV with her. It would take me almost 24 hours to get home if something really bad happened. It makes me feel selfish that I am going off on this big adventure and doing something for purely selfish reasons when she could need the help here.

I already know that she would tell me that is ridiculous. She has my dad to help her, and she will be just fine. Well, I’ve been in the car with my dad, and I know how long it takes him to cook a meal, so things might go as well for her as she hopes….just saying.

While I am always a little bit afraid (okay, a lot a bit afraid) of the “C” word, I am also exhausted, and frustrated by it. How much more is one person supposed to take? When does my mom get a vacation from the health issues? Why can’t the cancer go bug someone else? Shoot, I’d take it this round instead of her. I can see how tired she, how ready she is to not have to deal with things like this. It makes me mad that she is carrying this burden, and for the most part, she is carrying it all by herself.

Since the procedure is not at the hospital, I am going to stay home and man the phones while she is at the doctor’s office. My time will be better spent here anyway. When she had brain surgery, it was the longest seven hours of my life, and we were camped out by the little room they took people into to tell them their loved ones had died. It was stressful. At least at home I can grade papers, watch TV, do yoga, and be distracted enough to keep my mind off things.

Tomorrow, I am hoping she goes into the doctor’s office with two legs and come out with 1.9 legs, laughing in the face of the skin cancer. I’m going to try and find local pet stores that sell parrots, just in case she comes home down a leg, and would like to transition into her life as a pirate immediately. I’d imagine it is hard to get your hands on a parrot, so it doesn’t hurt to be prepared.

A couple of weeks ago we had new family pictures done, and despite my mom’s hopes for normal, I think the photos capture us (and her cancerous leg) quite nicely.

You can see a person’s whole life in the cancer they get.”
― Haruki Murakami, Blind Willow, Sleeping Woman

I guess well educated sun goddess is a pretty accurate description

The Scamp and the Gratitude Challenge: Week 20

Posted on May 16, 2015 by erranteditor

This week is all about friendship. I get to pick another friend that makes me feel grateful. The first one I was grateful for was my cat, Odin. He’s my favorite companion and he means a lot to me. Even as I try to get this out, he sits on my lap and drools all over my leg.

True story, here we are, me trying to write, him trying to figure out a way on to my pillow

This week is hard only in the sense that I do not want to have to pick just one friend. Lately, all the ones that really matter to me have been amazing. Between baked goods and heart felt letters, to phone calls and reminders that I will be missed, and that I am loved, snarked with me, I am really feeling like I have made some good choices of people to have in my life. This was a good lesson for the week because in addition to being done with my job, and having to get serious about the packing, I have planned a little goodbye party. It is my last chance to see everyone before I go, and since this time is a little more permanent than the last time I left, I am taking it way more personally that some of the people that I have known for years are blowing me off. I’m not so sure why in a see of “yes” responses, I am letting the one or two “nos” really bother me. The wonderful thing about the friendships that I have made, is that when I voice this fear (and I have been moaning about it a lot), my friends have assured me that I am loved, and have reminded me to focus on the positive. These are the people that I cannot wait to Skype with, the people that I hope will come visit me, and the people that I know will be in my life for a very very long time.

and for that reason, and because the cat found his way to my pillow, I am going to refuse to just pick one friend that I am grateful for. Instead, I am going to look through the pictures on my computer, the photo album in the bottom of my nightstand, and my external flash drive from five years ago and take a walk down memory lane with some really good people.

The Scamp is Umemployed

Posted on May 15, 2015 by erranteditor

in the United States anyway.

As of 8 pm Pacific Standard Time on May 13, 2015, I completed my contract with the community college. It is the last of my three jobs.

I got fired from the first one in January, except, no one told me. I worked hard as a research assistant, and now someone else’s name will go on the work. I quit the second job last week when I realized I spent more time hating the rude and horrid 13 year olds than helping them. They put me in a bad mood week after week, and I was unable to shut off my hatred of them and just do my job.

So I quit.

I only feel bad about quitting because my mom could use the help. I will say though, the yoga classes this week were a lot better because I wasn’t already frazzled when I got there.

The teaching job is a little different. I was actually a bit sad to see this job come to an end. The last time I was done with a job, it was to take the teaching job, so I was not the least bit sad to leave it. With this one, when I dismissed my students for the last time, I was sad to see them go. Many of them came up and gave me a hug, and a few of them who I have really gotten to know over the last year brought me gifts and really thoughtful cards. When a friend of mine asked me how I was feeling, and I gave him the honest answer.

I felt like I wanted to cry. I should be happy because now I have free time to sort out the packing and shipping, and really get into the literature I have found for the new project I am about to embark on, but when I was walking to my car last night, I was sad looking at the buildings and passing the library where I have spent the last month working with my students. I got an exit form, and when my grading is done, I will turn in my keys and the form. and be officially done with the campus. This job was my bright spot for the last year. Even when the rest of my world was falling down around me in flames, this job remained a bright spot. I liked my students for the most part, liked the people that I was working for and with, and thought that I was doing a pretty darn good job and teaching students how to write.

Earlier this week I got the written review of the class evaluation that I got in April. I was profoundly disappointed when I realized that I had simply been deemed “satisfactory.” I’ve never been just satisfactory at anything in my professional life. The thing is, nothing in the comments on the evaluation were bad. The couple of areas that needed to be improved were areas that I knew I was going to get dinged on (I mean, really, I have never used a rubric in my life). Satisfactory is good. Satisfactory is 80/100. The thing is, I do not feel like I am an 80/100. I’m a 100/100. I’m not sure why people do not see that. I know that the chair of the department was only in my class for an hour, but I have to say, I thought it was a pretty good hour. My mother patiently reminded me that I am a part timer, and that they had already offered me two classes for the fall, so I should be more than happy with my review. I was still smarting about my review at 8 pm last night when I let my class go for the last time. One of my students who I had both last semester and this semester came in and brought me a note that she had forgotten to give me when she saw me earlier in the day. This is what it says”

Dear Ms. Wilder,

I wanted to write (type) you a few words before you leave overseas. Well, to start off, congratulations on getting a full-time job in Scotland! I am truly happy for you. You have told us many times that you wanted a full-time job, and now you have it, although I am sad about it as well. You are the best English teacher I have ever had! I have learned so much in your class. I was so nervous when I started attending school because I had not been in school for so long, but you were helpful, and guided us throughout the semester. I am so thankful that I was able to attend your class this semester too. When I first started coming to college, I knew that I wanted to major in English, but plenty of people tried to talk me out of it. The reassurance I needed came when you told us that that you had majored in English, and all of the experiences you had encountered on your way to achieving a higher education in Scotland. Learning all about your achievements in general made me realize that I should pursue something that I love. So, I thank you for that. You are an extraordinary professor, and I want you to know that: I love the way you teach, the communication that you have with your students, the way you organize your lectures, the clarity of your explanations when getting into a new essay, the comments you write in our journals and our essays to help us improve our writing, your dedication to each and every one of us, even the fact that you play music before class starts. That is what makes you stand out from other professors, the time you take to do the small things for your students that make a huge difference for us. You are original in everything you do. Wherever you go, please do not lose your unique style, both in teaching and in fashion. I am really going to miss you Ms. Wilder, I believe that I speak for the entire class when I say that. Those Scottish students are lucky! Good luck with your upcoming job.

Sincerely,

Your English 100 student

That is all it took to remind me that I am anything other than satisfactory. This student has a bright future, and is going to do well in life, and I am going to take a little bit of pride knowing that I had a little hand in helping them along.