Maturity

A student hugged me today. This student was the captain of the football team, straight A, funny, charismatic, genial, helpful, attractive, cooperative student everyone likes. After the said hug, I realized something...

He talks to me because he wants to.
He is nice to me because he wants to.
He hugged me because he wanted to.

Ten years ago when I was their age, THAT kid wouldn't have talked to me, been nice to me and would definitely not have hugged me. I was so not cool back then. I didn't do my hair, I didn't wear hip clothes, and I didn't talk to people because I was nervous and worried that they wouldn't like me. Instead, I read and studied and talked to safe people. I kept to myself and, not only would the captain of the football team have not hugged me, he would have flat out ignored me.

It's so funny to see the differences today. In their world, those "cool" things are soooo important. In my world, they're really not. But because I don't really fit into their social world, I can be accepted for being a cool adult. This kid, whose counterpart made fun of me a decade ago, hugged me today. And I allowed him without wonderng what mean trick he was pulling as I once did.

When do we make that transition? What drives us to be horrible to each other? And then suddenly to be OK? Does "cool" ever actually go away? And who makes it up?

Down, down, baby, down by the roller coaster.

I think that friendships were easier once upon a time, back when we jumped rope and judged people on their ability to keep up in hand-slap games. I think it was better and more clear cut then, too.

I have one friend now who I don't really want to be friends with any more because she brings me down and it seems to me that she doesn't want to be my friend any more because I bore her, but we continue talking to each other. I have a friend I want to see more because she's true and fun and helps me remember to let go, but she has a baby and a boyfriend who, rightfully so, take precedence in her life. I have a friend who I thought was a good friend for a long time, but now I'm not so sure because either her definition of how you treat a friend has changed or her feelings about our friendship have. I have a friend who is on such a different path than I am with her life, her education, and her choices in general that we have nothing to talk about when we're together that obligatory once in a while except the old times - and I think we're lucky enough to have enough old times to fall back on. I have a friend who I would love to see more because we have a lot in common and never run short of things to say to one another, but between our two busy schedules I'm fortunate if I can see her once a month.

So it would be easier - much easier - if they all lived in my apartment complex again and we could visit each other every day after school and we could race around the sidewalk taking turns pulling each other in our red wagons and we could turn up the radio and dance and spin circles in the grass and we could know each other's parents as only "mom" and "dad" and they would love us all the same. And we could play again without worrying about making supper or getting up early in the morning or staining our clothes because jacks and hopscotch would be the only things on our minds.

Summer Dreamin'

I'm really looking forward to this summer. I have the COOLEST shift EVER at the shelter for one, and for two, K and I have gotten into fun, cool outdoor physical activity stuff like trail running and hiking. We want to do a lot more of it this summer. Plus, I'll be riding my bike to work this summer too. AND we have two trips planned so far: to Oregon and to Virginia. And hopefully this summer I'll get a teaching job and I WILL finish my master's. Overall, it will be amazing. The only thing to do now is wait for it to get here...

Denver

I had a great time in Denver. In between attending wedding events, Jennifer and I spent a lot of time talking and talking and talking. We shopped some, ate some and walked some, but mostly we were talking. It was a lot of fun spending that much time with another girl - something I haven't done since, well, since I lived with Jennifer.

Here we are at the bachelorette party. I won the group a bucket-o-drinks because I knew who the drummer for Queen was. And by knowing that, what I mean is that I sneaked off, called K, and had him Google it for me.



Here's a group shot of all of us girls at the bachelorette party. It was held at a piano bar (after a delicious dinner) that really was the perfect venue for the occasion. I think we all had a great time!



And finally, what would a post that mentions a wedding be without a picture from the wedding? Here's the beaming couple in after the nuptuals. Everything was beautiful and Mandy and Scott looked truly happy - which is all I can wish for them for the rest of their lives!



Overall, it was a great trip, but I was glad to be home again. I think that's how you can tell if you've had a good vacation - if you're ready to see your own comfy, familiar surroundings again. Millions of thanks to Mandy and Scott for the reason to fly to Denver; to Hillary, Mandy and Hillary's parents, and Scott's parents for planning other cool events during the weekend; Bethany for the ride to the airport; Justin for the ride from the airport; Jen for the fabulous company and trusty chauffeuring all weekend; and, of course, Justin and Jen for their amazing hospitality (which loosely translates into "Thanks for letting me invade your bathroom with all my crazy girly stuff").

Denver or Bust

Tomorrow morning I leave for Denver! I'm looking forward to a weekend full of hanging out with friends and not grading papers! Hopefully, my camera won't suck all the life from my batteries in two seconds like they have been lately and I'll be able to bring home some cool pictures to post here!

Lucyfer

Lately, Lucy just isn't happy unles she is well exercised. And by well exercised, I mean at least a half hour of running outside. She paces through the house, half barking, half howling. She prances up to the couch, bites my hands or other available extremities and yaps at me. She paces more, tastes her food, whines, paces, yaps, nips, yaps, whines, licks, paws at me, jumps, paws at me...it continues. Two nights ago she let us know she was upset by bringing downstairs a pair of Kelly's underwear and my work out pants. We were home. We were sitting on the couch. She brought them to us - almost as a warning of what havoc she was thinking of wreaking. We have been taking her out more frequently now that the weather is nicer, but it seems like we need to do something first thing in the morning, before she has the chance to go stir crazy. The thing is, she's driving me absolutely crazy dealing with all her nuttiness!

Spring break

I find that I get just as excited about spring break now as I did when I was a kid. I've also come to determine that I think a "real" job with "real" hours would be detrimental to my health. One reason I think teaching will be such a great fit for me is because of the time that it requires you to take off: all holidays, spring break, summer break, Thanksgiving break and winter break. Without those scheduled times off, I think I would just work and work and work and never take time off, which would eventually lead to my ultimate demise and failure as a well-rounded human being.

Daydreams

Do you ever have daydreams of kicking someone's ass just because you think it would be a good outlet for some pent-up frustration you've been carrying around for a while?

My daydream features an attractive male in his mid-twenties wearing a tight Hollister tee shirt and pre-shredded Abercrombie jeans with hair just long enough that I can get a good handful of for just enought time to make him tear up while I yell at him in public - in front of his friends is best - and make him apologize, although for what I do not know.

I wonder what Freud or Jung would have to say about this (on second thought, Adler may have more to offer on the subject).

NPR/PBS

The other day, K and I were stopped while out and about by a man with a clipboard who wanted to ask us some survey questions. Since it was just a mild survey, we agreed to talk to him. He began with one simple question: What local radio station do you most listen to? He was trying to figure out which station would be the most profitable for his company to advertise on. We told him that we listen to 95.1 - the BSU radio station that carries NPR. Unfortunately, that one wasn't on his list. So he asked us which television station we most watched. We told him channel four: PBS. He said, "No, I mean which local station?" We told him that PBS was the only local station in Idaho, but he argued with us and showed us his list and asked us to select one of the stations he had listed. We told him, honestly, that we don't watch them. He said OK and thanked us in a way that made us think we had somehow disappointed him...Except that I'm not sorry we don't rot our brains with standard network sitcoms.

My Vindictive Daughter

When Lucy is not appropriately (read: to her standards) paid attention to, she chews things. She chews things anyway - mostly paper items - but these things are like stereo manuals that we have no idea how she obtains or junk mail that has not yet made its way to the recycling bin. Yesterday, however, I think due largely in part to the fact that she had not been walked for two mornings straight, she chewed my personally annotated copy of To Kill a Mockingbird that I have had since high school and have been using in the current instruction of my ninth graders. It is, in no way, salvageable. Many of my annotations, however, did not end up in her digestional cavities so I will be able to resurrect them in another version of the novel fresh from my shelf. It's a pain, really, but the price we pay for having such a bright, spirited and drama queen-esque member of the family.

Apologies

It has been brought to my attention that one of my current 102 students has stumbled upon this personal blog of mine and was concerned with a statement which remarked that I feel inadequate with certain areas of my life right now, including my 102 class. This discovery was in part my fault. For whatever reason, my computer defaults a section for blog comments with this website, which it did on the blog for my 102 class. I try diligently to erase it each time I post, but sometimes I forget. Well, I forgot once or twice.

Regardless of the fact that I feel as though this was an inappropriate boundary to breach in a student/teacher relationship where I value some personal distance, I recognize that my writings here are public and therefore accessible to anyone and for that cannot hold a grudge. Plus, it was my own fault for not watching my computer's lovely defaults better. I would like to apologize to that student - and any other student who read that post - for the misunderstanding that arose from reading that blog post. Yes, I did express concern with myself and my own responsibilities, but that post was hardly more than a personal, hyperbolic rant. I take it for granted, I think, that the majority of people who read this - about seven total in the world - are close friends and family members who speak to me on a steady basis and are privy to my propensity to vent negative bothers and exaggerate on my personal blog.

In actuality, I feel that my life is quite balanced between home, school, work, work, and work. One reason I perhaps feel that I don't give as much time to my 102 class as I should is because I don't give as much to it as I have in the past. This is because I wrote daily lesson plans and set course expectations during winter break this year rather than working on it throughout the semester, leaving for me only the task of adding to lessons or altering things along the way. This has proven to work rather successfully for me, and has helped me grow in the art of unit planning and coordination and has alleviated my constant time commitments in the copy room and late nights at my computer trying to come up with an idea of what to do next. Also, as I mentioned, I'm unable to return emails during the day and often either don't want to sit at a computer or have no time to sit at a computer in the evenings. I generally try to maintain a 24-hour return on emails, but this semester, admittedly, it has taken me longer - sometimes up to three days, which, although a disappointment to me at times, has not yet seemingly been a problem with my students. If it has, they have not voiced that, and since they also have my cell phone number, they have more than one venue for doing so.

And so, I apologize for having a rough time and feeling comfortable enough to put that mildly on public display. My heart is in fact in all that I do and I often find it mostly in my 102 students. I do honestly worry about neglecting them, but I am coming to learn that that's a general fear of many teachers. I look forward to every Saturday class this semester and helping welcome a classroom full of bright and interesting adults to the world of college writing. Working as a graduate assistant over the previous two years has increased my awareness like I had never imagined it could to the world of education, authorship and community connectedness. I fear that leaving it at the end of the semester will leave me with a certain void in my life that could never be filled with ninth graders. I value the college courses I teach for their openness, their willingness, their insight and, obviously, their lack of behavioral concerns. They are a place where I can share, intellectualize and challenge in a way that I can't in other avenues of my life. I view my 102 class this semester, in particular, nostalgically for that reason: it will be my last. I think it is this reason as well that drives me to succeed with them, to help them more than I've helped the others, to do more than a superhuman teacher could do. But alas, since I am not superhuman, I must live with what I am capable of: one day a week, pre-planned lessons, sometimes late emails, and all the gusto I can gather.

Scene: The Boulevard Bar

Scene opens upon a dark, smokey bar. People play pool wearing jeans and tee shirts or flannel. Other people linger at the bar making large movements and talking and laughing overtly. The juke box plays loudly from the corner. Enter Me and K for my aunt's birthday celebration.

After sitting for a while at my aunt's table, I decide I would like water and offer to buy the birthday girl a drink. I stand and walk toward the bar. I aim for a section of the bar with three open barstools near the end of the bar. I lean forward on the bar and wait for the bartender. A middle-aged and severely drunk man two barstools over addresses me.

MAN: Are you married?
ME: Excuse me? It's difficult to hear over the noise of the place.
MAN: Are you married?
ME: Yes. looking back at the bartender
MAN: I rarely do married women.
ME: shocked and a little apalledOh!looking back at the bartender
MAN: laughing and embarrassed I'm sorry, that didn't come out right.
ME: wanting to exit the conversation and still be polite That's...all right. I know what you meant and...I'll just...take it as a...compliment. looking back at the bartender
MAN: My name's Doyal. D-O-Y-A-L.
ME: Nice to meet you Doyal. looking back at the bartender
MAN: reassuringly serious I would do you in a second, though, if you weren't married.
ME: again shocked That's...nice. looking back at the bartender
MAN: Are you sure you're married?
ME: Yup, I'm sure.
MAN: I just thought I would check.
ME: nod

Upon the scene enters the bartender. I am finally able to order my water and cocktail and leave the creepy man.

OMG

There's nothing at all in the whole world like coming home, exhausted, on a Friday, sitting down to check out what's been happening in Internetland, and finding a riotous display of humor on the comments section on my blog. Absolutely nothing else like it anywhere...

One thing quickly about women's pants. I hate the fact that men can buy pants in a waist size AND length. As a woman, you can buy a 0,2,4,6,8...you get it. And the length of all those pants sizes is roughly the same: about an inch longer than necessary to fit my legs. NOT all of us are built at 5'6"-5'8". Some of us fall about an inch short of that - and our legs are to blame. Never, in a million years, will my leg length change. Yet, I will forever be rehemming all the pants I purchase. Thank goodness I have a grandmother with a sewing machine and lots of spare time.

Sometimes, I would just rather play video games.

Well, I'm getting the feel finally for working full time. What I have determined thus far is that I do not like waking up every day at 6:30. I would much rather wake up an hour and a half later. However, I can't work an eight-hour day and still be home around three in the afternoon if I sleep until eight every morning. Bah.

I discovered today that I'm making about $10 an hour. I'm substitute teaching for my cooperating teacher, see, and making $75 a day for it. If I'm there at eight and leave by three, that's about $10.71 an hour. However, my days fluctuate - and I'm always there before eight and usually stay at least a few minutes after three. How do I feel about that? I don't like it. Teaching is harder than working at the shelter. More planning and thinking goes into the job, plus, I'm actively shaping their minds every single day, filling them with knowledge about racism and judgement and other complicated issues (we're reading To Kill a Mockingbird). At the shelter, I have time to do crossword puzzles sometimes or spend time alone in the kitchen when I'm making dinner or washing dishes. At the shelter, I take kids to the movies, hot springing, or hiking and will often watch TV with them or work on puzzles with them in the living room. All I have to do there is be fun yet uphold rules and set a good example. Yet at the shelter - even though it's in the social work field - I make $2 per hour more. Somehow, that doesn't match up to me.

Incidentally, I discovered that I made more last year than almost all of my previous working years combined. That's only an estimate, but it may be very, very true. And I'm still in graduate school! People in graduate school aren't supposed to make lots and lots of money! Not that $18,000 is a lot of money, but I suppose when you're in fields as lucrative as mine, you don't have a lot of complaining room.

Allergies

I think that to my list of seasonal and pet allergies I can safely add a third. I'm pretty sure I'm allergic to all activities involving the computer, a pen or a pencil. K thinks this may increase my difficulties in becoming a teacher. I think he's right. Already, this allergy is taking its toll on my health and well-being. For instance, I have had an off-and-on headache for about a week now. Today, when I have spent more time than on previous days in front of the computer, the headache seems more resilient. Another symptom of this allergy is insomnia. I have had such a difficult time sleeping this week that making it from day to day is becoming increasingly difficult. I used to experience insomnia when I was a teenager - perhaps the allergy laid dormant for a few years and is just now resurfacing - so I'm sure that's what this is that wakes me up at 3 a.m. and keeps me awake for hours, unable to fall back to slumber.

I wonder if they make medication that would help curb the effects of this allergy. In fact, I wonder if doctors have even diagnosed the problem yet. I could be the first in a series of cases. They could name something after me - perhaps the affliction or the resulting medication. I could go on tour with pharmaceutical companies and write a self-help book and provide inspiration for people all over the globe who also suffer from this allergy. I could save the universe!

Perhaps that's my calling, then. Perhaps I'm not meant to finish school, but rather to give speeches at conferences held in cheap hotels where they will give me gifts like crystal clocks and wooden carvings of young children healed by my word.

Thank goodness for allergies.

The semester...

is going well so far. I've taught at West for two days - which means that I'll start updating my student teaching blog again soon. I also have a new college class blog to add to the list - it's up now, gliches and all. I'm not sleeping eight to ten hours a night any more. That sort of sucks. And my super cool teacher who seemed to be totally cool with anything I wanted to try with the ninth graders is turning out to have a few more...preferences...than she initially let on. I still NEED a book for my master's prospectus that the BSU library has seemingly lost and would like to look at another one that someone has had checked out for two months now. Seriously...Who else in their right mind needs a book on classroom differentiation for that long? On a side note, I learned tonight that graduate students can check out up to 250 books at the library. I'm only at a paltry 38.

I can feel it coming...

K started getting sick Saturday. He was complaining about a severe headache, neck stiffness, confusion, dizziness, fevers, chills and fatigue. Yesterday we took him in to a doctor because he didn't seem to be getting better and we were worried that it could be meningitis. The doctor said it was just a flu that's been going around and that he's lucky he didn't pick up the other rabid strand coarsing through Boise - the one accompanied by digestional grossness. She prescribed him Norco, which is like double Vicatin, and told him to get some rest and drink plenty of fluids. I like the meds - they make him silly.

I woke up this morning with a headache and as the day progresses I want to do less, my head feels heavier, and my neck doesn't want to move at all. I think I'm developing the flu too. Maybe we'll spend the weekend high on pain meds, being goofy together.

Help!

I have a program currently being protected by a firewall. I went into my firewall controls and made sure the program is excepted. It is. However, it's still being blocked by the firewall. I don't know what to do with it. Ergo, I need my computer-savvy pals to provide PC assistance. Please!

I heart cooking!

I just made a super dinner, followed by delicious banana bread. The dinner was one of the "weird" meals K and I love so much but most people we know don't because it involved lots of vegetables and nothing fried, so I'm not going to waste my time by posting the recipe link. However, the banana bread (although also a healthier alternative to its standard form) was amazing! I just used two medium eggs and didn't do the glaze and one hour in my oven was perfect. Happy baking!

I should have studied business...

I know it's still early in the year, but in case you're wondering, there are no openings for secondary English teachers in the following school districts:

Boise
Caldwell
Emmett Independent
Garden Valley
Horseshoe Bend
Kuna
Meridian Joint
Middleton
Twin Falls
Vallivue

There are, however, plenty of openings for business teachers.