Today, I left my apartment before my roommate woke up and arrived home after she had already fallen asleep. I plan on working on the new play, and I'm sitting here writing a blog post. I didn't have time to check my work e-mail today, so I'm going to do that too. Also, because I didn't get the job in Boston, I'm going to stay up and apply for jobs.
---
Okay, slight break in the writing time. I just updated my essays for the job I applied for last year, and I'm going to resubmit them as soon as there online server stops screwing up. Basically, I know that I'm going to be done with this job and this organization come June, so I need to have a plan about what I'm doing after that is finally done.
By the way, for anyone who was just wondering, working 14 hours a day sucks. Working 14 hours a day for $3.57/hour really sucks.
I wish I had something more clever to say than just a life update, but there you go. Look for pictures about the service project garden that I'm doing in the near future.
Showing posts with label CYLA. Show all posts
Showing posts with label CYLA. Show all posts
New Job Prospects
K'Fain, Catie, and I always said it would never happen to us. Every single time the question was asked, we would cringe in disgust and immediately refute it.
"Oh, you're getting an English degree. What are you going to do with that? Teach?"
First off, this is offensive. As if the only thing that an English degree gives you the ability to do is teach other people English. I guess that they think that us guarders of the moth-eaten texts must have a single track mind and want to inflict learning on the world at large. Never mind the huge number of publications that need writers and editors. Forget the fact that reading comprehension, higher level thinking skills, creativity, imagination, and an exposure to a wide variety of issues comes from an English degree. And never mind the fact that many English degree holders have gotten very distinguished M.R.S. degrees in life that have made teaching unnecessary. Regardless of these things, no, we shouted, we didn't want to be teachers.
Then Catie got a job as a Parapro and she's getting her Master's in Education.
And I work for a nonprofit out in Los Angeles that tutors in some of the lowest-performing schools in the region.
Tomorrow, I find out if I've got a job with City Year Care Force. I really want it. I know that I do. I think that it's an amazing experience that could very well change the course of my life.
But...
I bought the Kindle edition of Teach Like a Champion because it's not going to be available for another month in book form and I wanted to implement the tips in there into my teaching as soon as possible. I read education-oriented articles. I'm constantly checking out books on contemporary education. I find myself making flash cards, crunching student data, fretting about the achievement gap, and praying not to get the elementary school crud again. But, I love my kids. My third graders are fantastic. My first graders are so full of life. I know that I can make a difference there. I know I can. But, I'm just getting good at this and this job is almost over. I've only got three months left in this job. That's nothing.
I said that I'd never come back for another year in Los Angeles. I can't take it. This isn't my city. But suddenly...I find myself thinking how much better I could be next year. I'm thinking about what I would have to do become a teacher once they stop firing all the teachers out here.
Never say never, I suppose. I just may find myself spouting rhetoric at kids for another year. But I want it to be the same kids. I came here to do a job...and it most certainly isn't done yet.
"Oh, you're getting an English degree. What are you going to do with that? Teach?"
First off, this is offensive. As if the only thing that an English degree gives you the ability to do is teach other people English. I guess that they think that us guarders of the moth-eaten texts must have a single track mind and want to inflict learning on the world at large. Never mind the huge number of publications that need writers and editors. Forget the fact that reading comprehension, higher level thinking skills, creativity, imagination, and an exposure to a wide variety of issues comes from an English degree. And never mind the fact that many English degree holders have gotten very distinguished M.R.S. degrees in life that have made teaching unnecessary. Regardless of these things, no, we shouted, we didn't want to be teachers.
Then Catie got a job as a Parapro and she's getting her Master's in Education.
And I work for a nonprofit out in Los Angeles that tutors in some of the lowest-performing schools in the region.
Tomorrow, I find out if I've got a job with City Year Care Force. I really want it. I know that I do. I think that it's an amazing experience that could very well change the course of my life.
But...
I bought the Kindle edition of Teach Like a Champion because it's not going to be available for another month in book form and I wanted to implement the tips in there into my teaching as soon as possible. I read education-oriented articles. I'm constantly checking out books on contemporary education. I find myself making flash cards, crunching student data, fretting about the achievement gap, and praying not to get the elementary school crud again. But, I love my kids. My third graders are fantastic. My first graders are so full of life. I know that I can make a difference there. I know I can. But, I'm just getting good at this and this job is almost over. I've only got three months left in this job. That's nothing.
I said that I'd never come back for another year in Los Angeles. I can't take it. This isn't my city. But suddenly...I find myself thinking how much better I could be next year. I'm thinking about what I would have to do become a teacher once they stop firing all the teachers out here.
Never say never, I suppose. I just may find myself spouting rhetoric at kids for another year. But I want it to be the same kids. I came here to do a job...and it most certainly isn't done yet.
Note Cards
I compulsively reread Ann Lamott's Bird by Bird. Mel Sumner, my college creative writing teacher, suggested it and I consumed it in like three days the first time I read it. The advice seemed poignant and funny, and really, what is one without the other. I remembered a lot of what the book had to offer and it made me feel a lot saner about writing and life in general.
I traded for the book on Paperback Swap a while ago. Since then, I've probably read it over a dozen times, reading the chapters out of order, blazing through territory that is comfortable and familiar. I bring it up because one of the chapters brings up the subject of index cards. She says that she never travels without an index card on her at all times so that she has something small that she can instantly write on if something notable comes up in her mind or in the world.
I've tried to start doing this since carrying a journal at school is nearly impossible. So, I'm taking notes about the crackheads I see before 8 AM and all the little things my kids say to me. One of my third-graders told me that I would make a great dad this week. I liked that. Anyways, I might start posting them up here just to keep a stream of content going on days when I really can't bear to sit down and bang anything out.
Our after school program numbers have been really low lately, but at the same time, the kids that are showing up all want to be there and are actively engaged and there are no behavior issues. So, I'm okay with it. It makes my life a whole lot saner.
I traded for the book on Paperback Swap a while ago. Since then, I've probably read it over a dozen times, reading the chapters out of order, blazing through territory that is comfortable and familiar. I bring it up because one of the chapters brings up the subject of index cards. She says that she never travels without an index card on her at all times so that she has something small that she can instantly write on if something notable comes up in her mind or in the world.
I've tried to start doing this since carrying a journal at school is nearly impossible. So, I'm taking notes about the crackheads I see before 8 AM and all the little things my kids say to me. One of my third-graders told me that I would make a great dad this week. I liked that. Anyways, I might start posting them up here just to keep a stream of content going on days when I really can't bear to sit down and bang anything out.
Our after school program numbers have been really low lately, but at the same time, the kids that are showing up all want to be there and are actively engaged and there are no behavior issues. So, I'm okay with it. It makes my life a whole lot saner.
It's been a week since my last post. In that time, I have spearheaded a talent show, held some hardcore Spring Break Camps meetings, volunteered at a mentoring day in Boyle Heights, and had the single best day of work since I got back from Christmas.
Today, all of the bad kids were gone from our after school program. The girl with the attitude and an excuse for everything. The boy with anger issues and the permanently sour expression. The people they egg on. The boy that has some learning disabilities that makes it hard to get him to focus. All of our kids who aren't fully invested in Starfish Corps and what it is and what it does...they all didn't show up. They had choir or drill team or cheerleading or class prep for a performance. Regardless, today was beautiful. And, after seeing how beautiful it can be, I am not going to put up with the bullshit anymore.
---
In other news, I'm cooking ribs tomorrow and watching a movie with Val. This movie promises to be fantastic for rewatching movies. On the docket are Pink Flamingos, Wild Tigers I Have Known, and Mean Girls. This should be epic in its camp fantasticness.
---
Currently Pondering: When it comes to education reform, it seems like a huge number of external organizations (Teach for America, City Year, 826, etc.) enter schools as unique external organizations to provide services. However, because schools don't provide their own services, they are at the mercy of external groups to meet all the needs of their students. Thus, do external organizations engender a system of codependency that doesn't actually remedy the education system?
---
I wish that I could go to the New York Film Festival in LA (a nomenclature clusterfuck if ever there was one), a debate at the Hammer Museum, and Patton Oswalt's concert in the next week. However, I don't think I'm going to be able to do any of it. Gah.
Today, all of the bad kids were gone from our after school program. The girl with the attitude and an excuse for everything. The boy with anger issues and the permanently sour expression. The people they egg on. The boy that has some learning disabilities that makes it hard to get him to focus. All of our kids who aren't fully invested in Starfish Corps and what it is and what it does...they all didn't show up. They had choir or drill team or cheerleading or class prep for a performance. Regardless, today was beautiful. And, after seeing how beautiful it can be, I am not going to put up with the bullshit anymore.
---
In other news, I'm cooking ribs tomorrow and watching a movie with Val. This movie promises to be fantastic for rewatching movies. On the docket are Pink Flamingos, Wild Tigers I Have Known, and Mean Girls. This should be epic in its camp fantasticness.
---
Currently Pondering: When it comes to education reform, it seems like a huge number of external organizations (Teach for America, City Year, 826, etc.) enter schools as unique external organizations to provide services. However, because schools don't provide their own services, they are at the mercy of external groups to meet all the needs of their students. Thus, do external organizations engender a system of codependency that doesn't actually remedy the education system?
---
I wish that I could go to the New York Film Festival in LA (a nomenclature clusterfuck if ever there was one), a debate at the Hammer Museum, and Patton Oswalt's concert in the next week. However, I don't think I'm going to be able to do any of it. Gah.
I Thought I Didn't Care
There are days when I have to tell myself that teaching elementary school does not and will not fulfill me as a person and, as such, I should not think about where to go to school to get a master's in it.
It all started with this kid, right. It always does. He's in the third grade class I tutor in. He's behind the rest of the class, functioning a few grade levels behind (by my supposition). He's a behavior issue, but I've started to develop a rapport with him and we get work done almost every single day. Today, I found out that they might be testing him for special ed.
And it pissed me off. And it hurt me.
And I know why: I've invested a lot of time into this student already. To have him get away from me now would be awful. But, at the same time, if he needs the help he should get it. But then again, I'm not sure that he is special ed. But I also know that the people making these decisions know a lot more about it than I do. Then again, I'm really exhausted and it was raining when I was thinking about this, so maybe that's what was making me sad.
So, I actually toyed with the notion of becoming a special ed teacher. Not for long...maybe half an hour or so. And then I was done. Now, I'm going to go to bed since I feel like a truck hit me today even though it wasn't that bad.
I staffed all of the Watts Camp...hooray for that!
It all started with this kid, right. It always does. He's in the third grade class I tutor in. He's behind the rest of the class, functioning a few grade levels behind (by my supposition). He's a behavior issue, but I've started to develop a rapport with him and we get work done almost every single day. Today, I found out that they might be testing him for special ed.
And it pissed me off. And it hurt me.
And I know why: I've invested a lot of time into this student already. To have him get away from me now would be awful. But, at the same time, if he needs the help he should get it. But then again, I'm not sure that he is special ed. But I also know that the people making these decisions know a lot more about it than I do. Then again, I'm really exhausted and it was raining when I was thinking about this, so maybe that's what was making me sad.
So, I actually toyed with the notion of becoming a special ed teacher. Not for long...maybe half an hour or so. And then I was done. Now, I'm going to go to bed since I feel like a truck hit me today even though it wasn't that bad.
I staffed all of the Watts Camp...hooray for that!
4,000 Word Update (or, I uploaded some pictures)
This is what last week looked like:
This is what LA looks like in a storm...like you're approaching the final boss in a bad rip-off of Final Fantasy.
My mural washed off the wall. Sad day.
The new 112th recruit: Sara with no H. I am either going to start calling her Noh after the Japanese theatre or No-H. Haven't decided yet.
My mural washed off the wall. Sad day.The new 112th recruit: Sara with no H. I am either going to start calling her Noh after the Japanese theatre or No-H. Haven't decided yet.
Brain Image
I lost my camera somewhere between 112th and my apartment some time in the last three weeks of November. I remember having it around the time of Opening Day, but I don't remember where I have left it. I doubt that it has been stolen, but I have terminally misplaced it. So, I'm trying to find a copy of it on Ebay for cheap. Wish me luck!
Also, I have to tell a heavy story about my life to the entire CYLA staff and corps on Friday. I did my first dry run with my team today, and I felt like the story wandered and didn't necessarily have the impact that I was looking for. I want it to be relateable and heartfelt. We'll see what happens. Plus, the ending sucked. I don't know what I'm going to do about that, but I can't just very well say, "The End," and just be done with it. This is something that is going to require major tweaking over the next couple of days so that it doesn't blow right at the end of the day.
Also, I have to tell a heavy story about my life to the entire CYLA staff and corps on Friday. I did my first dry run with my team today, and I felt like the story wandered and didn't necessarily have the impact that I was looking for. I want it to be relateable and heartfelt. We'll see what happens. Plus, the ending sucked. I don't know what I'm going to do about that, but I can't just very well say, "The End," and just be done with it. This is something that is going to require major tweaking over the next couple of days so that it doesn't blow right at the end of the day.
Reflections on the Day
Today was a lazy day, but I kind of loved that. I read Book 4 of Y: The Last Man, watched Outfoxed, Smokin' Aces, Dr. Horrible, and Scream 3. It's been a media heavy day, and I needed that after the week I just had. Seriously, there were two days this week when I left my apartment at 6 AM and I didn't get home until after 10 PM because work was crazy and there were things that I needed to do for America.
In other news, the CYLA newsletter, The Young Idealist, was released on Friday. Someone had messed with my design, though, and it was starting to piss me off. Then I realized that they had removed the sponsor block. I talked to the editor, and she said that because of my article on inter-corps dating, the newsletter could not be shown to persons outside of the office.
Now, while I think my article was tame (and if they were going to keep it internal, I could have cranked the volume to make it a lot better of a read), the possibilities of an internal newsletter to me are a lot more interesting than some sort of weird mix of internal/external. But, not everyone agrees with me, so this is going to be something I'll have to attack over time.
Also, Watts C might be getting a sponsor (I need to do a post to decode CYLA lingo...that'll be tomorrow.), but we'll see how the meeting on Dec. 1st with them goes.
I'm hosting Thanksgiving in four days, so I have to learn to cook a turkey and get all of that stuff together. Here goes nothing!
In other news, the CYLA newsletter, The Young Idealist, was released on Friday. Someone had messed with my design, though, and it was starting to piss me off. Then I realized that they had removed the sponsor block. I talked to the editor, and she said that because of my article on inter-corps dating, the newsletter could not be shown to persons outside of the office.
Now, while I think my article was tame (and if they were going to keep it internal, I could have cranked the volume to make it a lot better of a read), the possibilities of an internal newsletter to me are a lot more interesting than some sort of weird mix of internal/external. But, not everyone agrees with me, so this is going to be something I'll have to attack over time.
Also, Watts C might be getting a sponsor (I need to do a post to decode CYLA lingo...that'll be tomorrow.), but we'll see how the meeting on Dec. 1st with them goes.
I'm hosting Thanksgiving in four days, so I have to learn to cook a turkey and get all of that stuff together. Here goes nothing!
Sick to Walgreen's (with a Diversity Diversion)
Okay, so I haven't updated WaHo Life in a while. And I'm a little at a loss of what to write about, so I'm just going to spend the next fifteen minutes writing about my life in LA for use in my possible book about service years in America.
This will be from the section entitled "Shredded Cheese, Trash Bags, and Sour Patch Kids."
I'm exhausted. Scratch that. I was exhausted three days ago and fifty work hours ago. Right now, I'm bitter and vitriolic, and I don't even know what I'm doing. I'm stumbling down the road with my roommate Sophie and our friend Joe. Sophie is in her usual state. Joe and I are comparing notes about our lives working in Watts schools. I'm telling him about why the double D's quit. D-female quit because of some unhealed family wounds. I totally understand how that happens. And I don't know if it was entirely unresolved issues or if something new came up or if CYLA just wasn't her place, but she quit. I'm not going to say that she and I were best friends, but we got along okay. Had that common interest in theatre.
But the other D...Lisa Bohn once told me that "two perfectly good midgets could have been made out of the skin wasted" on her philosophy professor. While boy-D wasn't this malevolent, he was rather useless. Always asleep in circle. He was the poster child for diversity. Wore a wig everyday. Multi-racial. Bisexual. Bipolar. But, being the poster child for diversity isn't enough to get you employed. Or at least it shouldn't be. The only reason your differences ever become a difference at CYLA is when they are an issue.
(For instance, we watched the documentary Made in America; Bloods and Crips about ten days ago at the office. Regardless of what you think of the movie, it's well made and it raises some interesting questions about the interconnected relationship of race history, crime, and gang culture. Does oppression bring out violent responses? Are whites responsible for gangs by jailing or eliminating more organized and peaceful black movements? Are the conspiracy theorists correct? Were gangs inevitable? And, with a group of people who don't see color, all of the sudden color was the issue to talk about. And everyone was very conscious of where they sat on the color divide. So anyone not black had to be careful about what they said, regardless of the aptitude of the statement. So many people responded with emotion instead of reality or intellect. God, that's why those conversations degenerate into uselessness. If everyone can't say what they think realistically, then all of our walls stay up. Diversity is a goal. It's not a location that's easy to stay on top of it.
After all, what is the goal of diversity? Making everyone able to work together? Making sure we all understand each other? Or just looking like we come from all places? Is diversity an appearance or a reality? What does it mean? I don't know. But CYLA tries to hit it really hard. So, that's something I'll have to attack more in the future. Figure out on my Idealist's Journey path...but certainly not in group. Note to self: figure out what diversity means to you. Then, get someone not like you to agree.)
To Be Continued.
This will be from the section entitled "Shredded Cheese, Trash Bags, and Sour Patch Kids."
I'm exhausted. Scratch that. I was exhausted three days ago and fifty work hours ago. Right now, I'm bitter and vitriolic, and I don't even know what I'm doing. I'm stumbling down the road with my roommate Sophie and our friend Joe. Sophie is in her usual state. Joe and I are comparing notes about our lives working in Watts schools. I'm telling him about why the double D's quit. D-female quit because of some unhealed family wounds. I totally understand how that happens. And I don't know if it was entirely unresolved issues or if something new came up or if CYLA just wasn't her place, but she quit. I'm not going to say that she and I were best friends, but we got along okay. Had that common interest in theatre.
But the other D...Lisa Bohn once told me that "two perfectly good midgets could have been made out of the skin wasted" on her philosophy professor. While boy-D wasn't this malevolent, he was rather useless. Always asleep in circle. He was the poster child for diversity. Wore a wig everyday. Multi-racial. Bisexual. Bipolar. But, being the poster child for diversity isn't enough to get you employed. Or at least it shouldn't be. The only reason your differences ever become a difference at CYLA is when they are an issue.
(For instance, we watched the documentary Made in America; Bloods and Crips about ten days ago at the office. Regardless of what you think of the movie, it's well made and it raises some interesting questions about the interconnected relationship of race history, crime, and gang culture. Does oppression bring out violent responses? Are whites responsible for gangs by jailing or eliminating more organized and peaceful black movements? Are the conspiracy theorists correct? Were gangs inevitable? And, with a group of people who don't see color, all of the sudden color was the issue to talk about. And everyone was very conscious of where they sat on the color divide. So anyone not black had to be careful about what they said, regardless of the aptitude of the statement. So many people responded with emotion instead of reality or intellect. God, that's why those conversations degenerate into uselessness. If everyone can't say what they think realistically, then all of our walls stay up. Diversity is a goal. It's not a location that's easy to stay on top of it.
After all, what is the goal of diversity? Making everyone able to work together? Making sure we all understand each other? Or just looking like we come from all places? Is diversity an appearance or a reality? What does it mean? I don't know. But CYLA tries to hit it really hard. So, that's something I'll have to attack more in the future. Figure out on my Idealist's Journey path...but certainly not in group. Note to self: figure out what diversity means to you. Then, get someone not like you to agree.)
To Be Continued.
Los Angeles Life Begins
I stopped writing online when I got to LA. For some reason, I just felt like I didn't have the time. And I'm not going to promise to write everyday. But I've found my feet. The job starts tomorrow. And once again, I'll publishing stories from this WaHo Life.
By the way, I have yet to see a Waffle House in Los Angeles. I'm beginning to believe they don't exist. And the IHOP is simply not the same.
I'm kind of tapped for stories right now. It's not because I have nothing to talk about; it's because there is way too much.
This weekend was really amazing. Friday night, had an incredibly chill group of people over including Creon, Chris (nee Brittany), Gabby Torres, Allen, Tristen, Joe, Amanda, Mara, and Valerie. Then, Saturday, I went to a party at Lindy's apartment, spending most of the time with the beautiful Kathy Sanchez. Bought a camera on B'way, so expect pictures soon (some are already on FB). Went and saw Painted Churches at the Group Rep in North Hollywood (review pending as I left my program in Kat's car). Chilled out, did laundry, and decided the path to sanity.
I make these vows to myself:
1. There is nothing noble about suffering.
2. I will remember what attracted me to LA and I will exploit those things.
3. If I decide to quit, I will work for one more week and give everyone at CYLA the chance to talk me out of it.
But now, I have to go to sleep since I have to wake up in six hours.
By the way, I have yet to see a Waffle House in Los Angeles. I'm beginning to believe they don't exist. And the IHOP is simply not the same.
I'm kind of tapped for stories right now. It's not because I have nothing to talk about; it's because there is way too much.
This weekend was really amazing. Friday night, had an incredibly chill group of people over including Creon, Chris (nee Brittany), Gabby Torres, Allen, Tristen, Joe, Amanda, Mara, and Valerie. Then, Saturday, I went to a party at Lindy's apartment, spending most of the time with the beautiful Kathy Sanchez. Bought a camera on B'way, so expect pictures soon (some are already on FB). Went and saw Painted Churches at the Group Rep in North Hollywood (review pending as I left my program in Kat's car). Chilled out, did laundry, and decided the path to sanity.
I make these vows to myself:
1. There is nothing noble about suffering.
2. I will remember what attracted me to LA and I will exploit those things.
3. If I decide to quit, I will work for one more week and give everyone at CYLA the chance to talk me out of it.
But now, I have to go to sleep since I have to wake up in six hours.
CYLA Senior Corps
Why do I love the song "I've Just Seen a Face?"
Okay, here's what's up with me: I got a call yesterday as I was driving out to my house with my little sister, Morgan. The guy introduced himself as Jeffrey H******** and told me that CYLA (City Year Los Angeles) wanted to interview me to become a Senior Corps member for the upcoming year. Basically, it's the next step up: I would be in charge of a group of between 6 and 8 of my peers, and I would have to attend planning sessions and extra training. Which is fine. If there is one thing that I'm good at, it's being in charge. I get a thrill off of leadership, and I'm good at organizing tasks and making sure that everything gets done.
The only catch is that I have to interview for the job tomorrow at 4 and, if I get the job, I have to be out there by July 16th to start training. Which means that I'm moving 45 days before the September 1 start date that I thought that I was aiming at. Which means I have to bump everything up.
I'm really thrilled about this opportunity. I mean, most of the people with this job are people from the Corps who are coming back for a second year of AmeriCorps experience. If they think that I can handle the job at this point, then I'm thrilled to offer any extra work that I can do. I just want to try to do some good in the upcoming year.
On the other hand, my mother isn't thrilled. She's supportive, don't get me wrong. Dot would never tell me not to go after something like this, but, at the same time, she thought that I was going to be home a lot longer. So, I'm trying to stay near the home base until I have to go, but it also means that I've got to move up any plans that I had...I mean, I haven't even told Erica that I might be moving.
Basically, I need to start planning if I'm moving that quickly. But I don't know for sure that I am yet. So, I'm in a holding pattern.
Okay, here's what's up with me: I got a call yesterday as I was driving out to my house with my little sister, Morgan. The guy introduced himself as Jeffrey H******** and told me that CYLA (City Year Los Angeles) wanted to interview me to become a Senior Corps member for the upcoming year. Basically, it's the next step up: I would be in charge of a group of between 6 and 8 of my peers, and I would have to attend planning sessions and extra training. Which is fine. If there is one thing that I'm good at, it's being in charge. I get a thrill off of leadership, and I'm good at organizing tasks and making sure that everything gets done.
The only catch is that I have to interview for the job tomorrow at 4 and, if I get the job, I have to be out there by July 16th to start training. Which means that I'm moving 45 days before the September 1 start date that I thought that I was aiming at. Which means I have to bump everything up.
I'm really thrilled about this opportunity. I mean, most of the people with this job are people from the Corps who are coming back for a second year of AmeriCorps experience. If they think that I can handle the job at this point, then I'm thrilled to offer any extra work that I can do. I just want to try to do some good in the upcoming year.
On the other hand, my mother isn't thrilled. She's supportive, don't get me wrong. Dot would never tell me not to go after something like this, but, at the same time, she thought that I was going to be home a lot longer. So, I'm trying to stay near the home base until I have to go, but it also means that I've got to move up any plans that I had...I mean, I haven't even told Erica that I might be moving.
Basically, I need to start planning if I'm moving that quickly. But I don't know for sure that I am yet. So, I'm in a holding pattern.
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