Yesterday was the first day of university fall term.  I geared up for the day, expecting to experience the buzz that only a crop of new students and a new school year can bring.  But it was a calm and subdued first day back.  The most serene that I can remember in awhile.

I can’t say that I didn’t contribute to that subdued aura.  I went through my day dutifully, as required.

The most notable part about yesterday is that I couldn’t find a place to park my bike.  It was awesome and frustrating.  I’m definitely willing to fight over bike spaces if it means fewer people driving unnecessarily.  Three of the largest parking lots on campus are decommissioned for a variety of reasons too, so it’s no wonder the bike racks are full!

The day ended with an profoundly frustrating coed soccer game.  The best part was that I got to run around and play some.  And also vent my shared frustrations with Micah after the game over some Prince Pückler’s ice cream!

I’m feeling on the eve of under the weather, so it’s time to take it easy.  No simple feat for this first week, but I’ll do my best.

Coming soon: pictures from the September weddings!

Both of my sports teams lost today, boo!  It’s aigh’t, because I had a good time attending two sport matches in the one day, but oy.

<b>Team #1: Oregon Duck football</b>

The game was against the silly WAC conference Boise State U (someone should tell them that “Boise” is not a state) and we lost, mainly because our quarterback is injured and our offense struggled with two noobie quarterbacks.  The score at the end of the first half was 24-6.  Yikes.

Finally, another true freshman Darron Thomas was put in and led the Ducks to a more repsectable end of game score: 32-37.  Had coaches not been concerned about messing with the longevity of his eligibility and put him in one quarter earlier, we could have had a good chance of winning.  They will pay for this decision in post-season play, I’ll predict that now.  But yay for having a real quarterback for the time being!

Darron Thomas, our hero!

<b>Team #2: The Andromedolls, Emerald City Rollergirls</b>

For roller derby, it’s hard for me to really pick a favorite “team”.  There are three teams under the one Eugene league.  They are all awesome, but I adopted the Andromedolls as my favorite team because of their nerdy sci-fi name, shiny costumes, and LED ray guns.  C’mon, you have to admit this is cool:

A tank top and one of the ray guns was on special for $20 at the last bout.  I didn’t really have a choice *not* to purchase it.  That LED ray gun really makes my day.  It vibrates, makes noise, and has pretty colors.  Wee!

The Andromedolls put up a good fight, but some penalties called on their jammer in the first round put them far behind while the other team’s jammer racked up a 15 point lead.  In the second match, I believe they would have tied or won the match, had the jammer called off the last jam earlier.

The Church of Sk8tin gave it their all, as did the Fast Track Furies.  To be honest, I’m never all that impressed with the Furies costuming, but what they lack in exciting costumes they make up for in quality fundamentals and amazing team play.  The Furies won the last bout of the evening with a score of 60-30 against the Church of Sk8tin.

I attended a skate clinic with Sara and Caitlen after the last bout and I was so impressed with all of the derby chicks demeanor and athletic ability  I expected them all to be edgy, mean, and tough, but overwhelmingly so they were positive, encouraging, and inclusive.  I have seriously considered trying out for roller derby based on my positive experience at that clinic.  Everything seems fun about it: the skating, the commraderie, the competition, but not the inevitable pain and tough falls.  Tryouts are next weekend, which is consequently the same day as M+L’s wedding.  Sara and Caitlen will be trying out and I will be rooting for them!

We’ve had a fun, 3-day, fourth of July weekend.  Micah and I got up early and ran the Butte to Butte 10K, which kicked our asses in a very fun, community-spirited way.  We then drove up to Portland and enjoyed fresh made Napoli-style pizza baked in Matt and Lynsee’s mud oven.  The dogs played together and we watched fireworks from the Broadway bridge.  I lived in Portland for the first ten years of my life and I don’t ever remember seeing downtown fireworks.

The day after the 4th of July marks a sad day for me and my family, as it is the anniversary of the day that my dad passed away.  He was floating with four friends down the Deschutes and they came upon an unexpected waterfall.  Two guys got out to find an alternative route around, my dad and another friend stayed in the raft and tried to paddle to shore.  A friend on shore saw the raft go over the 10-15 foot falls, but apparently didn’t see anyone in the boat.  My dad and his friend were found by rescue divers a few days later.  He was only thirty three years old.

I was three years old at the time and I have no memories of him, which to this day I find to be so odd and unfortunate.  Perhaps I could tap into some memories of him via hypnotherapy, it’s possible.  My mom tells me that he and I spent a lot of time together from the time that I was born to the time that he left.

I do have one memory, perhaps real or perhaps an image pieced together from what I’ve been told, of waking up from a nap on the day of the accident in a tent.  I remember my mom crying and being consoled by friends.  And I remember a time before then, when my dad was still alive, going to pick him up after he’d been rear-ended w/out injury in a minor car accident.  I remember driving there with my mom and playing with a new doll or something, but I don’t remember picking him up.  I remember with great clarity his memorial service a four months later out at Depoe Bay on the Oregon Coast.  We threw his remains into the turbulent waves, in a beautiful pine bough box, at one of his favorite places.  I remember thinking that it was a fun family event at the time and I was a little mad, in that almost 4 year old manner, that I was discluded from helping throw the box into the ocean.

My mother is one of the greatest women that I know for being able to pull herself together and bring herself and me through the process of grieving and remembering him.  I think about all of her emotions that she must have felt in great magnitude; panic, fear, grief, sadness, anger, frustration, forgiveness, and strength.  She didn’t ask to be a widow or single parent and suddenly without warning, she was both.  Whenever I think of her at this stage, I think about all of the emotions that she experienced and all of the decisions that lay before her.

She could have chosen to let her emotions overcome her and slip into a selfish path of destruction.  She could have checked out of her relationship with and the responsibility of raising me.  She could have chosen not to deal with her and my grief and instead bottle up and not talk about it.  She could have chosen to give me some bullshit answer when a short time later I asked her where my father was and finally understood what really happened.  She could have chosen to leave me alone instead of consoling me when I was screaming and sobbing when I realized that he was never coming back.

She chose to do the opposite of all of these things, for which I am forever grateful to her.  I would not be able to deal with my emotions appropriately or comfortably talk about my feelings about my dad if not for her wisdom and pro-active actions during this essential time of my upbringing.  She put us both through a group counseling program for widows and their children.  She and all my family have never spared stories, photos, or anecdotes about my dad, piecing his personality together for me as best they could.  A few years ago, she put together a photo slideshow with video clips from 1982 of my dad talking with people and playing guitar, his trademark activity.  I have a DVD of my dad playing a mean Classical Gas by Mason Williams from memory, just one of the pieces in his repetoire.  He loved guitars so much that he made one for me; the only guitar that he ever made.  I have it and for years now I’ve been meaning to learn how to play it.  I tried private lessons and I have a book, now I just have to make the time or sign up for a group class and learn how to play it already.

Without hesistation, my mom is the greatest mom I could ever have and despite our occasional differences, I couldn’t have asked for a better parent(s).

My emotions are varied on July 5th; some years are slightly solemn and some years are more emtional than others.  Yesterday I felt sad.  I thought about my dad and wondered who he would have supported in the primary elections; Hillary or Obama.  I wondered if he would have approved or playfully scoffed at our of our positive behavior dog training method that we’ve chosen.  I wondered if he would be retiring soon and if so, what job he would be retiring from.  Micah pontificated the answers to these questions with me and we both think that he would definintely support Obama and that yes he would playfully scoff at our positive training philosophy, as other family members have also done.

I do miss my dad, but I’m told many things about him that keep him with me.  I’m told that I have his sense of humor, adventure, and mischief.  I was told by all of my family that not only does Micah look like my father, but that he would highly approve of him if he were here today; many people said this to me before, during, and after our engagement and during our wedding.  Everyone says that I received my interest in music from him (back when music was a much bigger part of my life).  I think it’s about time I make some time to learn how to play that guitar.