At the Fair/The Blizzard

When I was going through the job-hunting process last year, I didn't blog about it until it was very much over. I needed to keep it under wraps for a variety of reasons (Howard), so my blogging was silent on that particular story.

Not so this year, since I've made it totally known that I'm looking.

I'm sitting at the biggest teacher job fair in the state right now, in varying states of despair. I came to the same job fair last year - it was here I found STMS. This year is rather different. For example, the biggest district in the state withdrew from the fair because they instituted a hiring freeze. The next three possibilities nicely took my resume packet, but they said they were only going to



You see that part where I stopped typing? That's when an official got on the P.A. system and announced that the University was closing at 12:30 due to the weather. Turns out the snow that had started to fall lightly when I arrived at the fair (at 6:20 in the morning) had turned into a full-blown blizzard that shut down schools and the airport across the metro area.

I shut my laptop, bid farewell to one of my STMS friends who was here recruiting for the elementary school, and headed out into the storm.

Driving was a nightmare. I made it onto the highway near the school, but it was white-out conditions with ice packed on the roads. I pulled off at the next exit, intending to make my way back to the hotel where I had spent the night. Instead, I took a wrong turn and got rather lost. As I finally navigated my way back to a recognizable starting point, my car slid off the road and slammed into a curb. Whrrr. Whrrr. Yup - stuck.

I got out of the car and remembered that I had taken the emergency shovel and cat litter out of my trunk to make room for the boxes I was moving out of my classroom. I had 12 clocks and a copy of the OED in my trunk, but nothing that would help me get unstuck.

I grabbed a windshield scraper and started hacking away at the ice under my tire. Ice and pieces of the scraper flew around me, and I got back in my car and tried again. Nope.

Just then, this man appeared in my rearview mirror. "Put it in reverse!" he hollered through the blowing snow. I did so. He pushed and gave me directions and we rocked the car back and forth. A second guy appeared yelling, "You need some help?" even as he started to push on the other side. By the time a third stranger stopped, they had gotten me and my car away from the curb and back in motion.

I felt horrible I couldn't stop and thank them properly, since I was merging into traffic at the time. I yelled, "Thank you!" as often as I could while waving out my window.

Ah can always depend on the kindness of strangers!

I crawled my way back to the Super 8 hotel, and managed to book the very last hotel room available in the area. At first, the clerk said it would be a smoking room; but when I got to the front desk, he realized I had stayed with them the night before and gave me the exact same room again. Once again a boost to my faith in humanity!

So, I hauled my stuff up to the room, called the people who would probably worry about me and then called and ordered a pizza. It was about 1:45 by then, and I hadn't eaten anything aside from the granola bar I had for breakfast.

The pizza came about 90 minutes later, and I settled in for a night in the hotel.

Here's the view from my window at about 5:00pm:


I'm back at the job fair now. I figured as long as I was stuck here another night, I might as well take advantage of it and try to find some more possibilities. I've walked the aisles a few times, but a lot of districts didn't come back today, including the two others I had interviews with yesterday. I am sticking with optimism and looked at all of the schools that probably wouldn't require me to move. Again, slim pickings.

I do have an interview set for 11:30 with a district that's about 40 minutes southwest of my house. Not a bad commute, but probably all canyon roads. It's a drama position, but they're salary for my level would be $7000 less than what I'm making this year. A job's a job, though, and I feel like I should stick around for it. If only because it'll hopefully give the roads more time to thaw before I head home.

Oh, and here's a kicker - they closed school early yesterday and all of today. The one time I use a personal day....

At least it's spring break next week. I'm heading out to SLC to work on "Making Waves" (and to play). Wasatch Theater Company wants to do a full production of it, and SLAC wants us to perform it, so we have a lot of work to do. Exciting, though, isn't it? So, if you missed the performance last fall, you'll get a chance to make it up to me! :)

Where was I at the beginning of this long tale? Oh, yeah. The prospects yesterday.

Basically, as in most fields, employment is grim for teachers. I am really (REALLY) glad that I'm doing this as a resident of the state and as an experienced teacher. There are two student-teachers sitting near me right now talking about where they might move to, how it would be great to get an apartment with more than one bedroom, how it "pisses [them] off" when their 8th grade students turn off the lights as they leave the room. "I'm going to write them up on it, seriously. What are they, three?"

Ah, youth. Theirs, I mean, not their students. If only turning off the lights was the worst of my students' misbehavior!

I know that I'm doing the right thing, leaving STMS. I also still believe that Denver is where I'm supposed to be. Despite the lack of opportunities even to interview, I believe I will end up exactly where I am supposed to be next year. Heidi, with her infinite and always timely wisdom, offered me this advice: Think of the absolute last day you can imagine being without a teaching job (I'm trying to make it August 30, but it's really more like August 1). Okay, that's your freak-out date. Anytime you start to panic about not having a job, stop yourself by saying "It's not August 1, so it's not time to freak out yet."

And it's working.

I'll keep you posted.

What Are You Going to Do Now?

An update:

The VP at that school emailed me today. She said my resume and email were very impressive, and I'm obviously well-qualified; but that they have an internal candidate for the position and were only going through the formalities. I'm still welcome to apply/interview, but...


Crap.

Good Vibrations

I need your help!

I just discovered a job posting for a drama/English position at a high school right next to where I live.

If you don't mind, will you please send whatever prayers/happy thoughts/good wishes/groovy mojo you have available my way for this?

It's a more perfect match for me than I can hope for, and I'm terrified to hope for it, but oh! I WANT THAT JOB! and I need some encouragement.

Please!

(And thank you in advance!)

Let's Go to the Movies

A good cast AND it's written by Dave Eggers?
NOW I'm curious.

Emily

I have been around a number of things lately that remind me of one of my favorite people - Emily.

Emily and I met in our freshman year of college - we had a mutual friend (who later disappeared off the face of the earth via marriage), and we were in the same sorority. We bonded one day when we discovered a shared guilty pleasure (really guilty - we both were strangely fascinated by a truly horrible TV show, "Sweet Valley High." I know. Your respect for me just dropped a bit. I understand.), and we've been good friends for... crap. 11 years now. Seriously, are we that old?

Emily gave me a wild side and I gave her some restraint. It's because of her that I can tell people I've been clubbing and cruising the streets of Salt Lake City well after midnight. Any knowledge I have of Buffy, Roswell, and rejecting Italian men comes from her.

Emily very much enjoyed (enjoys?) llamas, so when I saw this commercial tonight, I thought again of her and decided to write this long-intended post:



Cute, isn't it?

Reason #2 Why I've Been Thinking of Emily:
I've been shopping for plane tickets and travel books for my upcoming Yay! 30! trip. Emily and I celebrated our graduation from college the year we were both 20 by backpacking Europe for 6 weeks together. If that doesn't cement a friendship for life, I don't know what does. We saw 10 countries, loads of art museums, visited Mercedes, got very sick, chased Shetland ponies, ate a ton of Chinese food, scared ourselves silly in a village in Germany, were robbed on a train going into Amsterdam, babysat a little girl who only spoke German, got caught in the rain in Paris in white outfits, spent a long night on a train with four Air Force Academy graduates (who were perfect gentlemen), got in a huge fight at Versailles, went to Disneyland Paris the next day to make up for it, and had the time of our lives. It'll be fun to see some new countries with Jason, but in a lot of ways I wish it were Emily going instead.

Plus, we got round-trip airline tickets for $600. Those were the days!

Reason # 3 Why I've Been Thinking of Emily:
For Rachel's birthday a few weeks ago, she invited me to go to a dance club with her and some friends. Many a Friday night went like this:
1) I drive to Emily's house.
2) I sit on Emily's bed and we talk while she tried on various outfits.
3) 2-4 hours later, we head out to a dance club.
4) We (and by that I mostly mean Emily) dance for a bit.
5) Leave the dance club and find some food or head back to watch a movie.

If I were the kind of person who drinks, I'm sure the dancing would have been a lot more comfortable for me. I'm all for dancing when it's choreographed - tell me what to do, and I"m fine. When it's free-form, though, it's totally out of my comfort zone. I spent the first half of the dancing with Rachel and co. moving awkwardly and watching the other people. Aside from the girl who was very seriously executing a Fosse-routine-gone-wrong, complete with bowler-hat; the old guy who was dancing exclusively and extensively with his arms; and the occasional really, really drunk people (one of whom mistook me for a banister at one point and groped me thoroughly as she stumbled down the stairs); I discovered something important: people don't move their feet much when they dance. I started to loosen up a bit more (unlike Rachel, who is an excellent dancer in all forms, and Mavi, whose awesome abandon carries into her crane-like dancing) and had a little fun. Still not comfortable, but I'm glad I went.

Reason #4 Why I've Been Thinking of Emily:
Disco Roller Skating.

Yes, you read that right, Em.

Okay, when we were in college and used to hang out with some other girls (Stephanie, Rachel, and Natasha), on more than one occasion we found ourselves spending more time debating what to do than actually doing stuff.

In a burst of creativity, Emily seized an athletic sock, drew a face on it, dubbed it Sherman, and wrote out a bunch of possible activities on slips of paper that went into Sherman. Sherman showed the bias of his creator, though, seeing as how Emily had written "Disco Roller Skating" on at least half of the papers.

Somehow, though, we never actually did that. When I found out the February ward activity was, in fact, disco roller skating, I was trepidatious (as I was every time Emily brought it up). In my new "I'm Relief Society president so I am totally into all things ward-related!" space, though, I bucked up and did the best I could to dress up for it. I put my hair up in pincurls:



and turned it into the best afro I could:



And off I went!

First of all, there is a whole different brand of freak I didn't know about that is the hard-core disco skaters.
Secondly, I had to go request that the DJ play disco music (strange, right?), and he said he wasn't really sure what disco music was, could I name some songs and he would see if he had any of those. Turns out, he did have "Dancing Queen".
Third, roller skating places haven't changed a single bit since I was last there sometime in the 7th grade. Black lighting, ugly carpet with pictures of skates on them, lockers, the smells, the concessions - all exactly the same.
Fourth, as in the last time I went skating, the only way I know how to stop is by running into the wall.
Fifth, after a few laps with my arms outstretched for balance and the wall within reach, I actually picked up speed and could keep up with the general crowd!
Sixth, I didn't fall once!

Here's the thing. It was fun. It was actually really fun! Like, I totally regret not doing it with Emily in college and now I'm hoping there's a disco skating session in Grand Junction so the next time I visit her we can go, kind of fun.


Don't get me wrong - I think about most of you dear readers often. But you can see why Emily's been on my mind in particular lately, right?

P.S. I do have some great pictures of Em, but it's past my bedtime, and I don't feel like scanning right now. Sorry!

Bless This School

Fresh from the hands of two eighth-grade girls, I give you
Confiscated Theater
(So very [sic])

Foo sum's wrong wid Ryan... :( he's not tha same no more & I was in tha process of falling 4 hem... :(

wait why what happened hun?

nun like he don't talk 2 meh he dont do nun w/ me no more... it's pissing me of! :(

well talk to him and ask him what is wrong. Maybeh he is just gong through something right now its not like him to act that way so i bet its nothing really.

ugh idk! he doesn't like do ANYTHING wit me now... I knew I shouldn't have fallen 4 hem... :( <3>

Id like I said talk to him fu! lol or do you want meh 2? and yeah you shouldn't have but you did cuz yur heart did woo that was deep.. Jaja but yeah I said I wasn't gonna fall 4 Paypay but I did... maybe kuz I did him i don know

nah I will but like :(
ugh! I felt like s*** at lunch he didn't even look at meh! :l
Why duz he gotta pull this s*** now?! :( grrr!!

Fin


Shortly after I took this note, we were moving desks back into place when one of the soccer boys stood up, pulled a bottle of punch out of his backpack, and poured the bottle of punch over his head.

Maybe it was a nonviolent protest against standardized testing?
Hopefully?

At least his mom had a strong enough talk with him last night that he came right up to me this morning and apologized for it. Which was both rare and nice.


Also, my testing group that morning finished their exam with over 30 minutes to go. I couldn't let them leave the room since other classes were still going, and their talking noise level quickly escalated. I did the best thing I could think of on the spot to get them quiet - I hooked up the projector and started playing whatever G-rated clips I could think of online. While we were watching some of the promotional shorts for Pixar's next film, the students noticed a resemblance:

He even sounds like the kid, too!

Hold a March

While I was folding laundry tonight, thinking about how crazy-busy my life has become, it occurred to me that perhaps it's not me - maybe it's March. Maybe I am subconsciously filling my life to the brim because it's the time of year for a total lack of time. Usually it's a musical that's consuming my life. And so, since I do not have a musical to be tearing my hair out over (or making last-minute lutes from scratch), I have instead allowed myself to be filled with school and job-hunting and taxes and travel plans and lots and lots of Relief Society stuff.

Okay, when I look over that list, I feel a little guilty. It's not all bad (I really can't complain about having to shop for plane tickets so I can backpack Europe this summer). Yeah, job-hunting isn't any fun and it takes a lot of time, but I'm choosing to do it. I went to a job fair yesterday about an hour north of here. It was specifically for charter schools. I'm not too sure about working for a charter school - it will probably mean a cut in pay and may not be too stable. Still, I had five interviews, I feel really good about getting a follow-up invitation from at least two of them, and I got to practice answering all of those tedious questions prior to going to the big job fair in a little less than two weeks. I also wound up with five hours to kill between interviews, so I drove to Flatirons. I bought a new pair of Clarks shoes, walked around a lot, browsed the travel books at Borders, and took myself to lunch. It was a long day, but not a horrible one.

Relief Society is probably at fault for most of the loss of my down time. Sundays are now filled with evern more meetings - on top of the normal three hours of church (yes, my non-Mormon friends, three hours), I have two hours of meetings before church starts. Once a month is the post-church "Snack and Chat" (or "Munch and Mingle" or, the most honest version, "Feed and Flirt"), once a month is a "Guess Who's Coming to Dinner" (which, contrary to the name, has nothing to do with racial tensions. It's when someone volunteers to host dinner and six other people are assigned to go there so people can meet other new people in the ward). Then, during the week there's Family Home Evenings (every Monday), a monthly book club, ward activities, temple assignments, Enrichment, and leadership trainings/meetings.

In a lot of ways, I'm glad for the calling. I wouldn't be going to any of those things (except for church itself) if I didn't feel obligated to go. I'm meeting and socializing with a lot more people, and I care about them more as well. That goes with the calling. I know that it's good for me - I'm still not a fan of large social gatherings, and this is giving me both the practice of attending and things to do while there. If I'm feeling awkward about talking to people, I can always find something to do in the kitchen or in asking someone about something I need to know. At least the calling gives me that. I just miss exercising, sleeping regularly, and having down time and such.

I told myself I would make this a short blog entry; it's after 10 and I need to be at school early tomorrow to set up my room for CSAP testing again. So, I'm going to end this for now. Hopefully, I'll have a chance to blog again soon - I still have stories to tell Emily and the rest of you.

Oh, and Happy Ides of March, and terrible luck to any of you fortunate enough to be working on a musical right now!

Am I Blue

In a nutshell -
I'm job-hunting again. Probably no surprise, but I can finally blog about it because I told my principal the news on Friday, so it's out there.

I applied for a position at one school, a charter school. I spent a long time on the application, and I got my hopes up because I knew I would be good at it and today I got a rejection via email. "Unfortunately, you are not selected as a finalist for the position."

And now I'm in a dark place again.

I can tell myself it's a good thing - the commute would have been awful (about 1 hour), it was an English job (and I need to be doing theater), and it was hardly a sure thing; but I went and got my hopes up and the employment thing is just looking bleaker and bleaker. As it is for everyone.

So, today was a bad day, and I've lost my joie de vivre again. Let me know if you see it anywhere.

In a Little Spanish Town

I have a ton to tell you about (dancing at a club, the Oscars, parent-teacher conferences, and, yes, Emily, disco roller skating), but I also have grades due on Friday and a mountain of workbooks to grade. I promise a nice, detailed blog entry this weekend.

In the meantime, though, I need to brag about this news:

I'm going to Spain!

I was officially accepted as a volunteer for 8 days in a little Spanish village/resort outside of Madrid through the Pueblo Ingles program.



It'll be the kick-start to the Yay! 30! trip Jason and I are taking - we will rendezvous in Athens the day after my program ends, then backpack through Greece and Turkey.

All I want to do is plan the trip, but, alas, I have miles of paper to go before I sleep.

Still, whoo!

I'd Sure Like to Give It a Shot

If you can't get enough of me...

I'm posting on another blog, Shot-a-Day, now as well. It's a fun one - there's a bunch of us who post one photo a day. Quick, interesting little glimpses into various lives.

I'll put a link on the sidebar as well. Enjoy!



P.S. Two books on Monday and another one yesterday. Binge cycle ending nowhere in site.

Sorry

An apology letter:

"Dear Ms. H2O,

I a sorry for not doing nothing and talk probably talking.

A-"

Book Report

Linda and I went to Tattered Cover last night to attend a book signing by Jeff Kinney.
See? Here he is:



He also had his brother and a friend from his youth with him, both of whom are featured in the books:

(And, honestly? The friend is kind of hot. He smiled in a very nice way at me, but it might have been because he was wondering "Why is there a clearly adult woman standing in a line of children, none of whom are attached to her?" He's the blurry one in the blue sweater. No athletic, muscular guys for me - nuh-uh. My genetic selection wiring is set to Nerdtastic!)


Who is Jeff Kinney? He wrote this book series:

which is hilarious! I read it after the signing last night, and it is awesome. You should read it, too.

Okay, speaking of reading books last night, I should reflect a little bit here on my addiction. Normally, I read evenly - every day, here and there, healthy doses. However, the past two weeks or so have found me in a massive binge-and-purge cycle of reading. I think it's stressed-related. I've read... wait, let me count... 10 books in the last two weeks. and they're not all quick reads like "Diary of a Wimpy Kid," either. That's not healthy, if only because I wind up staying up way past my bedtime because I'll say to myself, "You'll just lay awake thinking about the book if you don't finish it, so you might as well finish it." And I readily give in, even though I am 100 pages from the end.

The 10 books have all been good ones. John Green is an especially favorite new author of mine. He wins the Kundera Best Title Award (for "An Abundance of Katherines"), and "Looking for Alaska" is a great read in the vein of "Thirteen Reasons Why." Plus, his books are narrated by gifted, intelligent teenage boys. It's refreshing because 1) most books narrated by gifted, intelligent teenage boys are in the sci-fi/fantasy genre (see Harry Potter, Ender's Game, Pendragon, etc.) and 2) I think reading about how/what gifted intelligent teenage boys think is fascinating.

I'm just worried, though, because I can't exactly pinpoint what's causing me to do so much reading suddenly. Yeah, I have some guesses. The fact that I keep slipping up and calling my new principal "Howard" might clue some of you DPJH-people in on some of my current stresses. Still, stress is not an anomaly in my life. So why the insatiable reading? And why did I spend 3 hours on a Monday night waiting to see an author in bookstore filled with 500 tweens?

Chatting with Linda over a white chocolate steamer was a nice reason. But in between paragraphs of our conversation? I was thinking about reading a book.

Wanting Things

I love my Kindle. I really, really do. It has served me well the past 13 months and is really one of the best Christmas presents I've ever gotten. Just this week I read another six books on it, luxuriating in my ability to get a new one without leaving the house (talk about enabling an addict!).

But have you seen this?



It's so pretty and new and doesn't have the annoying long "Next Page" button on the right that I hit accidently and... sigh. I kinda get now why a person might have an affair.

Lloyd Webber

I would normally just put a link, but this one's good enough to post the entire message:

from McSweeney's

EXCERPTS FROMTHE COLLECTED
ANSWERING-MACHINE MESSAGES
OF LYRICIST TIM RICE.
BY JULIE KLAUSNER AND RACHEL SHUKERT

- - - -
August 12, 1967

Timothy? Is that vous? Fetch the crayons, Timothy. It's Andy Lloyd Webber.

Guess what I have? A ghastly idea for a show. I'll need you to make some sketches. Crayons, Timothy!

Now: Joseph. Not Stalin! The Jew, from the Bible. Yes, Tim, I read the Bible every day. But this is new! I mean old! Old Testament. Ahem. Do you know what Joseph had that we don't? I'll give you a hint. A waistcoat? No! A dreamcoat! A coat made of dreams. It was red and yellow and green and brown and purple and gold and ochre and green and blond and black and poop and pee and cinnamon red and red and red and dragons and bugs and teeth and teal and lemon and black and white and mauve ... Where was I? Oh, yes. Dictation, Timothus!

We need to discuss the Joseph Stalin musical set in Jewish times with Jews, remember? Get out your grease pencil. There will be a narrator. The narrator will be played by a sprightly he/she in harem trousers and a fez. She—or is it "shim"?—will look exactly like Markie Post. Who is Markie Post? I don't know, Tim! I don't know! But the name came to me in a dream. Do you know what this means, Timaphus? I'm a prophet! A prophet! A—

(Speech is drowned out by the sound of rushing water. A bloodcurdling scream, then silence. Beep.)


June 16, 1969

(Prolonged coughing fit. Spitting.)

Tim? It's Andy. Good news, old chum! Guess where I am and guess what I'm reading! The desert! And the Bible! You see, I've been eating peyote, Tim-Tim, and I have a terrible idea. Are you ready? Write this down. Write my vision down! Jesus, Tim. Have you heard of him? Oh, you have? Fine, fine. But have you ever noticed that he and Jim Morrison are the same bloody chap, Tim? Tim! Think trousers, Tim! Tight, tight unguent trousers. "Unguent" not the right word, you say? Well, you're the bloody lyricist—act like it! Mary Magdalene needs a headband and a song about ointment. Or unguent, if you like. The tune should go like this: "Dah ... dah dah dah dah ... daahhh dahhh!" Get out your typewriter. This is a real parable, mate. Jesus was betrayed—tragically betrayed!—by Ben Vereen. And now, thanks to the me-people, the you-people will finally know the truth!

(Howls like a coyote. Beep.)


November 14, 1979

(Muffled groaning, grunting, huffing, then the sound of liquid "release." Throat clearing.)

Timmmmm. Guess who? Wrong! It's Andy. So. I've an idea. It's awful. Pencils ready? Ready? Ready them, damn you!

(Long pause. Then, in a whisper.)

Cats, Tim. Felines. All sorts. Mewing about in a junkyard. Describing one another. Flitting about acrobatically. Cleaning their fur with their pink tongues. I want actual cats onstage singing songs about what kinds of cats they are! Understood? And if that's not possible, Tim, I want you to write songs for human beings to sing whilst they're wearing unitards adorned with clumps of yak fur and their faces are painted like Ziggy Stardust if he were a chimney sweep. Now. This show won't make a dime and it won't run for more than one night, but I want it to be exorbitantly expensive. Really obscene. You see, I've read a book, Tim. Written by one Eliot, T.S. It's called The Waste Land. But, as I read it, all I could think about was cats. Cats!

(Amid a background noise that sounds like hand-licking.)

Rum Tum Tugger. Mr. Mistoffelees, the magical cat! Skimbleshanks, the railway cat! He hops from one train car to the next, with a spindle and a bean can, the tramp! Name the ingénue after the queen! Cast a belter. The overture should go like this: "Dah dah dah dah dah dah dah dah dahhhh." Good? Great. Go!

(Grunting noise. Sound of dry "release." Beep.)


January 10, 1985

Tim, are you there? Pick up, it's Andy. Oh, bollocks—I really can't be bothered if you aren't even going to answer when I make the time to bloody ring you. Listen, I know that technically you're dead to me, but just for old times' sake I wanted to let you in on what I'm certain will be the most successful show that any human being has ever conceived—though, actually, I'm not really a human being: I'm made out of star stuff and the moon and am also God. So.

(In the background, there's the sound of a gunshot, followed by what sound like the screams of Mandy Patinkin.)

I hope you're in a safe crouch, Tim. We both know how you love to crouch. Ha.
I'm thinking about trains, Tim. But the trains have names. And they are symbolized by people, who are really actors, on roller skates. I'd like the actors to be nude, and if they are not I'll be forced to have you killed.

Do you know what happened to me last night? I had a vision of a masked genius. An angel. Of music, Tim. And he lives all alone in a cellar, with only an organ and a private steaming lake for company, and so he has to symbolically rape an innocent young ballet dancer in order to feed his muse. It's a beautiful love story. In fact, I think it will be the most beautiful love story about symbolic rape ever told, apart from that film with Cher and the deformed boy. And it will run for a thousand years. Oh, by the way, Princess Diana is going to die. She's marked for death and only you can stop it.

(Snorting. In the background, Soft Cell's This Last Night in Sodom LP is becoming louder and louder.)

And do call me back about the singing trains. Ta.

(Beep.)

Just One More

One more addition to my post earlier this week. How could I have forgotten this one?



Everyone sing along!

Wait, what?
You mean your family didn't spend many a car trip singing the entire Pirates of Penzance score along with Rex, Linda, Angela, and Kevin?

Weird.

Grisabella...

Grisabella...
Originally uploaded by chitarita

Is very happy today since

1) it's warm enough for me to open the windows,

2) I spent part of the morning letting her be a lap cat while I watched Burn Notice, and

3) I refilled the bird feeder.

Happy Saturday!

An English Teacher!

A student just made my day.

I am teaching verb tenses today, a task I was rather dreading because
a) it is completely idioic that 8th graders are expected to answer a question like

Which is the past perfect progressive form of the verb?
a) took
b) has taken
c) had been taking
d) is taking

on the state standardized tests and
b) this is stuff that I barely understand, and what I do understand only comes after 20 years of school, studying 2 other languages besides English, and looking up explanations on the internet.

And yet, I must teach it, so I am teaching it. Then, in the midst of explaining the future perfect forms of verbs, a student blurted out, "Miss, this is fun! Why can't we do stuff like this every day?"

!!!

And so I have achieved perfection as an English Teacher. It's all downhill from here - I don't know how I can ever top making verb tenses FUN for a squirrly 8th grade boy.

P.S. Do you know the answer to the CSAP question?

Don't Tamper With My Sister

My sister seems to be having a bad week, and I'm wondering if it's going around. A lot of people I know (including me) are feeling more blue than usual. So I did a little poking around and see what kind of internet cheer I can find.

Let's start with one I've posted about before, but it is my go-to happiness movie:


With the awesomeness that is Pixar, this also always makes me smile:


And the Super Bowl this weekend reminded me of one of my favorite commercials:


Speaking of cats...


Even Scrubs knows the power of the kitten:


If kittens don't work, here's what cheers people up in a musical:


And you can't have tap without:


Then again, you could always get a superhero to shove you in the garbage:


And if nothing else works, well, there's always:

Silly Thoughts

Two things I didn't think I would have to tell middle-schoolers, and yet I did this week:
1) "Pole-dancing is not an appropriate thing to do at school."
2) "Here is another pencil. Do not eat this one."

An observation made by middle-schoolers this week that made me think:
Martin Luther King was a racist, Miss! He doesn't say nothing about Mexicans in his speech - it's all about black people and white people.

Something that made me depressed and a little angry this week:
Reading "Revolutionary Road".

Something that made me happy today:
This.

Something that made me want to be creative today:
This.

Something I'm proud of:
I have worked out for 20-60 minutes every day for a month. Except for two days when I was sick and one day when I worked all day and then flew to DC.

Something that perplexes me:
I haven't lost any weight.

Something I used to do and am starting up again and is making me realize that I am getting old because I'm not as good at it as I used to be:
Brenda, Jill, and I are taking yoga every Wednesday at 4:00.

Thing I realized while meditating at said yoga class, thanks to Meg and the other awesome friends from Camp Shakespeare who reached out when I needed it:
I need to be a drama teacher again.

Statement that has caused a lot of people who know me to say or think "Well, duh.":
See one above.

People who make going to work bearable right now:
Brenda and Jill.

Thing happening at work that makes me look forward to Tuesdays:
Linda is teaching a crash-course in Love and Logic over lunch. I really needed this refresher.

Thing that is making me remember winters at DPJH:
My classroom's heater broke, so I've been teaching in scarves and gloves and layers all week.

Thing I'm supposed to be grading instead of blogging right now:
A test on adverbs, commas, and punctuating quotations.

Thing I heard today that broke my heart:
ST High School needs to cut two positions next year, so they're eliminating band and art.

Cat-reference sent by Teresa this week that made me smile:
Mrow.

Thing that I'm calmer about that I would normally expect:
I've been called as Relief Society president in my ward. Oy.

Thing I wish I could do, but can't right now because of the one above:
Run away to GJ for the weekend to play with Emily and the folks.

Sister I'm really, really glad I get to live by and play with:
Rachel

Places Jason and I decided to go this summer for our "Yay 30!" trip:
Island-hopping around Greece, then into Cappadocia and along the western coast of Turkey.

Places we had to put off because it would be too expensive to fly around so many countries, but by golly, I will get to someday:
Morocco, Egypt, and Israel.

Thing I realized I haven't done when I typed the one above:
I haven't posted the other pictures from DC or written a trip round-up. Whoops!

People who still think Jason and I are/should be more than "friends":
Everyone except Jason and me. And Janelle and Kelley, too. They're pretty perceptive.

Proof that Broadway is not the epitome of good theatre:
Thriller? Really, Nederlanders?

Movie I hope will win Best Picture because I want a reminder that a cheesy happy ending is okay sometimes:
This.

Christmas present I wear a lot because lately I need reminders of happiness:
This necklace from my dad.


Time I used to naturally wake up at:
Around 10:00.

Time I now naturally wake up at:
Between 7:30-8:30.

Time I have to get up for work:
5:30

Place I'm going now because of above:
Mmm... bed....

A Secretary is Not a Toy

(I will be posting more about the DC trip, but first a quick post on this.)

To: President Barack Obama

Congratulations and thank you for all you do.

Your good friend Quincy Jones said: "...next conversation I have with President Obama is to beg for a Secretary of Arts." [November 14th 2008 WNYC interview by John Schaefer on "Soundcheck."]

We the undersigned support Quincy Jones' plea.

Thank you.

Sincerely,
The Undersigned


I first heard about this petition on NPR, and I was torn. On one hand, the arts need more support in this country. NEED it, do you hear me? As a teacher in a school that is not-so-slowly getting rid of anything that isn't covered on the state tests, the arts need to be recognized and supported for what they bring to this country - culturally, fiscally, and emotionally.

On the other hand, it seems twisted to have the arts get more entwined with federal regulators and jurisdictions.

In the end, I signed it. I get it if you decide not to, but please at least think about it. And then go do something creative.

Petition for the Creation of a Position for the Secretary of the Arts

Jason

Jason
Originally uploaded by chitarita

And found a spot!

And found a spot!
Originally uploaded by chitarita

Made it in!

Made it in!
Originally uploaded by chitarita

The push to enter

The push to enter
Originally uploaded by chitarita

Will My Toes Stay Warm?

Will My Toes Stay Warm?
Originally uploaded by chitarita

Behold! Toe warmers!

DC #2

DC #2
Originally uploaded by chitarita

Since we decided definitively to go to the concert tomorrow, despite
the 50% chance of snow, we spent the morning today hunting for
warmth. Those are some of the last handwarmers available in the
greater DC area.

The concert, by the way, will be live-streamed on NPR and broadcast
for free on HBO for comcast providers tomorrow night. You should
check it out and find me in the crowds of millions. :). It's called
the "We Are One" concert. I'll definitely post pics, especially since
we'll be waiting there for a while. With toasty hands, though!

DC #1

DC #1
Originally uploaded by chitarita

Hey-o!

I'm playing with the notion of blogging from my iPhone while on my
current adventure. You may be seeing several posts from me this
weekend. Or you won't hear from me at all until I get home. We'll see.

At the moment I'm in Jason's lovely new apartment in Arlington, VA.
I'll take some pictures of the place for you to see tomorrow.

I got into DC around 10:30, and we were both hungry so we set out in
Jason's little car to find a place open after 11. I spied a glowing
neon 24 hours sign at a hole-in-the-wall kebob place, so we gave it a
shot. It was filled with swarthy, meditteranean men, and it was
good!

Almost, But Not Quite

Neil Patrick Harris hosted Saturday Night Live this weekend. My disgust at SNL outweighed my love of NPH enough that I didn't watch it, but I will read the Mamapop recap. Lo and behold, a clip about Broadway. So, naturally, I feel obligated to put it here:



Good Parts:
Neil Patrick Harris dressed as Mark
Neil Patrick Harris making fun of Mark
Neil Patrick Harris singing
The Chicago ladies was a little funny
The Blue Men were a bit funny, too (although, and I do have to be picky about this, the Blue Men Group is off-Broadway, as was Stomp)
"Yeah, you, the Color Purple guy."

Bad Parts:
Um, Cats closed 9 years ago. And Annie closed years before that. Did you not bother to do any research? Or do you decide not to make a really funny sketch for the thousands of people who do know about current musicals (c'mon! Spring Awakening writes its own jokes!) and instead filled it with passe references for people who might have heard of musicals in the 1980s but who really don't care?
Plus, everyone except Neil Patrick Harris.

I'm going to wash it down with some of this:

(skip ahead a minute or so to get to the clips)

and, of course, some of this for dessert:

(I love Megan Mullally's reactions. And you know she could have sung that right along with them, too.)

The Day Off

Andy came home for Christmas with a cold. Then Dad caught it, then Mom. Rachel came down with it last weekend, so I knew it was only a matter of time.

I'm home today with a cold that made sure I knew who was in charge by waking me up with not one, but two cold sores. The right side of my lips is swollen up like a botox injection gone wrong. Lovely, right?

I was uncertain about taking today off, being a Friday and all. Part of me felt I should just stick it out, stiff upper lip, what what. So I stayed late yesterday readying for a substitute; but I also set my alarm for 5:30 to give a valiant effort to attend the faculty meeting this morning at 7. When it went off, I sat up, dizzy and congested, and reminded myself that the world won't end if I stay home a day. Back to sleep I went.

So I'm curled up on my couch in flannels and sweats, eating an orange because I'm out of juice, and talking myself out of doing ironing.

Wheels of a Dream

Apple Introduces Revolutionary New Laptop With No Keyboard

I especially liked the banners at the convention.

Bonus points if you watched this on your iPhone!

Happy New Year

Well, hello there!

Oh, you good, faithful readers, who keep coming back to see if I'm a) alive and b) blogging. I had good intentions to blog over the break. And, since I don't start work again until tomorrow morning and it's... 7:30 pm, I'm technically still on break and therefore keeping my promise.

Kinda.

A variety of thoughts:

Christmas
Was delightful, as it always is with my family. I am extraordinarily lucky, I realize, and sometimes feel like the wonder that is my family and our Christmases together is fragile, a thinly blown glass ball. I love it, but I worry that at any moment something will happen that will shatter that joy. I think I got my worrying gene from you, Mom.

We spent a lot of time hanging out as a family. We laughed, on occasion, at the picture we made - all six of us together, yet totally engrossed by the little iPhone screens. We also watched a lot of 30 Rock. I got some fantastic presents, I had fun shopping for others, and it was relaxing and without stress and just what I needed.

Our traditional Christmas Eve dinner is pictured, as is the sign from the door of the restaurant.

Salt Lake
Before Christmas, Rachel, Mom, Dad, and I ran up to SLC for a quick trip. We visited with the relatives there and I took the Frontrunner downtown. Exciting!

Actually, I was really impressed with the lightrail. It was behind schedule by about 20 minutes, but it was also snowing at the time. For a stress-free way to go through the valley, not bad. Warm, free wi-fi, comfortable, and I didn't have to deal with traffic.

I met Teresa at the station and we breakfasted and book-browsed at Barnes and Noble, then I met with Heidi for lunch and some much-needed catching up. She also gave me a lovely print of one of her new pieces, a gate of transformation. I love her work. Then on to Kelley's place (or, rather, former place). Ben was out of town (Boo!) but the rest of "Orange Tuesday" met for one more round of Rock Band before Kelley moved to Chicago. Strange how of our group, only Ben is still teaching at DPJH. I spent the evening with Janelle before my family came to fetch me for dinner at the bistro in Sugarhouse. It was a day full of talking and friendship and I loved it. By the way, Orange Tuesday people, I got Rock Band 2 for the Wii from Santa, so if we're ever all in Denver, I'm ready for us!

New Year's
Was spent driving back from GJ. Yeah, it's not the most exciting way to spend the holiday, but the drive was uneventful and that was worth it. Wait, I haven't told you about the Thanksgiving drive yet, have I?

Thanksgiving
The holiday itself was a delight. We made a lot of food and a lot of candy (salted caramels are my new favorite treat). It even included seeing Twilight with Emily (followed by a very late night of reliving our Europe adventure). On Sunday, Rachel and I got into her car and headed homeward at about 10:00 pm. Things were not bad at all until we hit Silverthorn. And the snow. And the skiers. We were stuck in traffic for a very, very long time. At one point, it took us 5 hours to go 7 miles. We crawled towards the tunnel, Rachel did a formidable job driving in horrendous conditions, we put on snow chains all by ourselves, and we peed at the side of the road in the darkness and the cold. We were very rustic. We got home around 8:00 pm, after 10 long, long hours on the road. And that is why I left on New Year's Eve, when the forecasters started predicting snow in Vail starting Thursday.

New Year's, Again
And it's been nice to get some things done before school starts up again. I got a haircut, got my car fixed, bought groceries, made a few meals for the week, and started the laundry pile. And dreaded going back to work. But that's tomorrow.

Resolutions have been abounding on the blogs this week, so I feel compelled to address that.

Instead of resolving new things, though, I want to affirm some things I plan to continue to do. So, this year I will continue to

1) Look for a way to be happy at work
2) Read. A lot.
3) Travel. A lot.
4) Be open to new friendships
5) Keep my old ones
6) Eat consciously
7) Work out
8) Learn new things
9) Try new things
10) Make new resolutions when I feel a need for a change in my life.

And it's past 9:00 now (I do take a while to type these posts, but I also made lemon squares and did some laundry so I'm not THAT slow), so I need to head to bed. Maybe once I start teaching again the work nightmares will stop.

Happy New Year's to you all!

P.S. I got a new phone number with my new phone, so if you don't get an email from me with that new number in the next bit, let me know!

Bells are Ringing

Merry Christmas!
I'm a-typing from mah new iPhone! Whoo! Technology!
I have stories to tell, and time to tell them this week; but I shall wait for a larger, more-than-2-fingers-at-a-time keyboard.

For now, the happiest of wishes to you!

I Hope I Get It

After my last entry and all of the venting I've done over the phone to my family (sorry about that), I've been trying to think of something good that happened at school this week I could blog about. I don't want to only blog when I'm upset - that's not very nice to you lovely readers, nor does it make an accurate journal for me.

So... something good that happened at school.

Oh!

Yesterday I was handing out progress reports to students, and one girl in my 2nd period said, "Thank you" as she got hers.

Look, I know some of you dear readers are currently students (by the way, shout out to Jimmy Black and welcome to the blog), so will you do me a favor?
Will you please
1) remember that for every assignment you have to do at school, the teacher has to grade, like, over 100 of them?
and
2) Remember that they do that because they honestly want to help you learn.
and
3) Will you please thank your teachers next time you see them for taking that time to grade? Even if you don't mean it, do it for me. Trust me, we teachers don't hear it that much, and it's an easy way to help us have a better day.



I'm going to paste an email here from Ben (math teacher Ben). Not to be selfish, but I'm posting it for me - I know there are going to be more days ahead when I'll need to reread this message, and I want to put it somewhere easy to find. It means a lot to me.

"The faculty holiday dinner at Old Spaghetti Factory was last night. Everyone wanted to know how you were doing in Colorado. You recent blog post was fresh in my mind, and I tried to summarize the many struggles you've faced this year without bumming out the whole party. There is not one person on the faculty who worked with you that doesn't have tremendous admiration and respect for what you built and accomplished at [DPJH]. More than one person said that they knew they'd miss you but that they didn't realize the magnitude of your effect on the school until you were gone. On hearing of your frustrations, the most common response was that they were "devastated" to imagine you in your current situation. Your friends at [DPJH] still care about you, and that we are all pulling for you to find a job where you can do amazing things again and be the kind of teacher we all admired while you were there. I thought you'd want to know that."

It Sucks To Be Me

It's finals time, so I'm facing a stack of grading I need to get done so I can help my students figure out what they can do for the end of the semester grades.

The thing is it's been a long, hard day. I've had to work really hard be the proverbial duck in a rainstorm - to let the rude comments; the exaggerated yawns and the girl who yelled out "This is boring!" while I was mid-sentence; the student who refused to do any work today, including the mandatory vocab test; the girls who were "just playing" in the hall and who slammed into me; the glares; the heads down; the eye-rolling; the nastiness; and the constant "you're bugging me, Miss, so screw you" verbal and non-verbal messages roll off my back. I'm trying really, really hard to keep smiling, to keep joking, to keep pretending I care about subjects and predicates and to keep believing that this is what I want to do.

Then, after school just now, I walked back to my room to tackle the grading and found that on the poster I had made for my classroom door, the one with my name and room number on it that welcomes my students to class with a cheery, colorful fabric background, right under my name someone wrote "sucks" in large, permanent letters.

And while I'm glad the person spelled it right, I lost whatever energy has been carrying me. I just want to get in my car and find some place to be where I don't feel like a rotten teacher and an unattractive person. I'm exhausted, and I don't know if I can get up from the mat and start swinging again.

But I promised I'd give them progress reports tomorrow.

Thinking

One thing I like about middle-schoolers is the way you can tell exactly what they're thinking...
usually because they tell you. Sometimes it just creeps up, though.

For example, here's how one student answered the textbook question "In your opinion, why does the woman in the snow return every year to ride the same bus?"

3. I don't know what it is asking me hold on yes cause she had all four things and you know what they are

Sometimes, though, it's subtler. For example:

Me: standing at the board, pointing a a sentence Good! So if "grandpa" is the subject, then-

Boy Student: whispered to girl student two desks away, loudly enough to force me to cut off mid-sentence Hey! What does "obulousy" mean?

Girl Student: glares at Boy Student

Boy Student: still stage-whispering, oblivious to the fact that I and the entire class are now listening What? I really don't know!

Me: Give me the note, Eli.

Boy Student: stuffing note under desk I don't got a note, Miss.

Me: Eli.

Boy Student: hands me the note, which I read as I walk back to my desk to stash it. It says:

Girl's Handwriting: are we dateing?
Boy's Handwriting: IDK
Girl's Handwriting: how do you not no
Boy's Handwriting: IDK
Girl's Handwriting: Well Obulusly you don't want to be together so

And that's where I intercepted the note.

Empty Pockets Filled With Love

It was cold enough today that I pulled my long, wool coat out of the closet. As I walked to my garage this morning, I stuck my hands in my pockets.

I found a handful of cough drops in my left pocket. And in the right I found a folded piece of paper with a rough sketch of the "Mattress" set on one side, and a shopping list for things like "PVC pipe, 4 gallons brown paint, 140 yards gold ribbon, lute supplies, safety pins, 1 fake apple, etc." on the other.

I miss not getting ready for a show.

Life Support

I am standing outside my classroom door Monday, greeting my students as they enter the room. One eighth-grade kid comes running up to me and says

Student: Miss! Isn't today AIDS Day or something?

Me: Yes. It's World AIDS Day.

Student: Holds out his hand Then where's my condom, Miss? Don't we all get free condoms today?

Rat-tat-tat-tat

For Monday's classes, we read Mona Gardner's very short story, "The Dinner Party." Taking place in colonial India, it begins with an officer's wife suggesting that women have moved beyond the "jumping-on-a-chair-at-the-sight-of-a-mouse era". One of the colonels, of course, protests, saying that men have "that ounce more of nerve control." A debate ensues, a cobra is detected in the room, and the story ends with a nice twist.

It's a good filler activity, a story we can do in less than a whole period. Plus, sexism issues are always good for discussion, especially in middle school.

I consider myself a pretty creative teacher, which is probably why students are still discussing whether what happened Tuesday was my plan or not.

I began the class with a starter question about which gender handles crises better. The students wrote their answers, then we went around and checked in with their answers. There was some posturing and minor arguments as some students, mostly boys, claimed that the other gender was the weaker.

We were about 2/3 of the way through the students when Mikayla quietly and calmly said, "Hey, there's a mouse!"

I looked where she was pointing and saw a brown and grey-ish rat run from under the computer table in my room to under my desk at the front.

"Huh," I said, "So there is!"

Shrill screams rang out as six of the students climbed on top of their desks, shrieking.

All six were boys.

I called the front office, who called the janitor, who said he couldn't do anything about it, and about 6 minutes after we spied George-Bob (so named by my 5th period and me), I finally managed to calm the class down enough to continue the lesson.

After we pointed out the way one particular gender handled the crisis, that is.

Fixed

I changed the link in the post below so you can all enjoy Jon Stewart's singing.

You're welcome.

:)

Can I Interest You in Hannukah?

The Colbert ReportMon - Thurs 11:30pm / 10:30c

A Colbert Christmas: Jon Stewart

Colbert at Christmas
Colbert Christmas DVD

Green Screen
Bill O'Reilly Interview

This Christmas Special was hit and miss, but this song was my favorite.
Watch the whole song, if you can.

Finland

Ikea Business has a test to find your style. Apparently I'm Scandinavian Natural. Go figure.

Hymn to a Sunday Evening

For no reason other than merriment, I give you

TV From My Childhood

For starters, of course, it has to be

Rainbow Brite

(Oh my goodness, the tinny music. My ears! My speakers!)


Chip 'N' Dale: Rescue Rangers

(I maintain still that is one of the best theme songs of the decade.)


Out of This World



Full House

(Yes. Sad to say, but yes, this one, too.)


Silver Spoons



Perfect Strangers

(I thought Balki was hilarious - look, he's stuck in a revolving door! Ha!)
(Hey, I was, like, 10. Don't judge me.)


Gummi Bears

(Gummiberry juice! Who knew Disney would endorse steroid abuse during the "Just Say No!" era?)


Square One TV
(This one gets two clips)





Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego?
(I couldn't embed this video, but it's worth the link if only for the map with the flashing lights - oh, the memories!)
(Yes, I fully acknowledge my geekiness with my love of educational TV programming. This show rocked, though. I mean, the singers are called ROCKapella! How could they not be awesome?)


Punky Brewster

(Check out the cool girls' outfits - aren't they styling? I tried to find the two clips that are burned into my memories - Punky dropping an oyster down her shirt at a fancy dinner party and Cherie getting trapped in an abandoned refrigerator. Thanks to this show, I still have an underlying belief that suffocation in abandoned refrigerators is one of the top causes of death for children under the age of 16.)


Saved By the Bell

(This Very Special episode has Very Dramatic Acting.)


And just to remind you that there was some good TV shows in the 80's:



That's it for now - it's bedtime for me. I'll probably do a part deux. For now, though, how many of you could still sing along with all of those songs? Rachel?

Malacats

So if you don't hear from me for a few days....

P.S. You should check out the list too - it's pretty funny.

Latin Chant

We are learning Latin root words in my classes today - port, capt, miss, flect, and so on.

Me: "Aqua" means water. What does "aqua" mean?

Students: Water!

Me: Good! So, we make waves with our arms while we say "aqua".
I demonstrate, students imitate, giggling.

Me: Excellent! What are some words that have "aqua" in them?

Kid #1: Aquamarine!

Me: Nice. Which means?

Kid #2: The color of water.

Me: Great. Other words?

Kid #3: Aqua Man!

Me: Yes! And what does he do?

Kid #3: Shoots water at people.

Me: Wonderful! And what do you call a room that holds water in it?

Kid #4: Waterhouse!

Much laughing.

Today's been a good day so far.

Dirty Rotten Number

Words I can't say in my 8th grade classes, no matter the context, without eliciting snickers:

cherry
bosom
stacked
bed
hole
rub
hump
poke
climax
erect
elect
eject
ejection
wood
stiff
thrust
e.e. cummings
nuts
balls

I also can't spell any word that begins with the letters "a-p-p", either.

The Apple Doesn't Fall

AARRGGHH!

All of my tension and frustration over the totally uncoraporative kids has set up camp in my neck and shoulder blades, so I'm typing this with horrible posture. I'm got a much-better articulated post in mind that I'll write later along these lines, but I just need to vent about the fact that

I AM SICK OF FEELING LIKE A BAD TEACHER BECAUSE OF SOCIETAL PROBLEMS AND STUDENT BEHAVIOR THAT ARE TOTALLY AND COMPLETELY OUT OF MY CONTROL!!!

For example.

I had our school translator call a parent this week to report the following consistent behaviors about her student:

• Refuses to sit in her assigned seat
• Refuses to do any work (seriously - it's been 3 months and I've seen maybe 2 assignments from the girl)
• Brings toys to class
• Spends the class period talking to those toys to entertain her friends and distract the other students
• Giggles, sings, hums, makes puppy whining noises, and talks to herself and her friends during the class
• Talks back to and/or yells at the teacher when asked to stop the above behaviors

This has been going on since August, and I have literally done every single consequence available to me as a teacher (held after class, sent to a different room, sent into the hallway, sent to the office, lunch detention, Think-Reflect worksheets), with absolutely no remorse and/or behavior changes. I have also recommended her for both academic and medical testing (as in she needs drugs, not as in "let's run lab-tests on her"), which the school apparently still has not yet begun.

So the translator makes the phone call and relays my message. Here's how her mother responded:

"This is not my daughter's fault. It is the teacher's responsibility as well."

The HELL? What, exactly, about this girl's behavior is my responsibility? And what the hell kind of favors do you think you are doing her by blaming ME for her crappy, immature, inept behavior?

And (while I'm at it), dear government, how in the world do justify holding ME accountable for this girl's choices? I'm not her psychologist, doctor, pharmacist, behavior specialist, police officer, counselor, parole officer, her father, or her mother. I'm her Language Arts teacher, damn it. And all I'm asking is for her to let me do my job.

Everybody's Got the Right

For the first time in my voting life, MY VOTE COUNTED!!!

























I like living in Colorado. :)

Under the Sea

For my parents:



(via BB-Blog)

(Yes. I am absolutely procrastinating the work I brought home. Enjoy the fruits of my non-labors.)

Funny

It's Just The Gas

My afternoon, once school let out, began with 8 phone calls home. Two were for neutral issues - standard updates on students. The others were to inform parents of students' misbehaviors. So that should give you some idea of how my 5th period went today.

I had planned on a long afternoon at school, since I needed to write up my lesson plans for the week, rewrite my curriculum maps (I have a meeting with one of the curriculum coaches tomorrow), and do other such things that are meant to, you know, make me a better teacher.

You know what would make me a better teacher? Getting home in time to exercise, cook dinner, and get to bed at a decent hour!
Ahem.

Anyway, I was working away when the assistant principal dropped by to return one of my dictionaries to me. He warned me, as he brushed off the cover, not to "smell it too closely".

I arched a curious eyebrow at him.

"You know, unless you want to drive home a little..." he trailed off, miming a stoned driver.

"Ah!" I said. "So that's why there were cops in the hallway after school."

"Yes," he said, "the kid apparently 'forgot' he had that baggie in his backpack."

The AP set the dictionary up on a desk near me, and after we chatted for a bit, he took off to GO HOME. Freaking annoying.

Anyway, after the AP left, I resumed working on my lesson plans.

About 10 minutes later, I noticed a strange smell. Boy, I thought, the AP must not have been exaggerating about the drugs spilling onto that book!

(NOTE: I do not have a very strong sense of smell, nor am I good at identifying drug smells.)

A bunch of kids spilled into the hallway from basketball practice, making a terrific amount of noise. One of the rattled the gate that separated them from the classrooms and their lockers and yelled "Miss!... Miss!"

"What?!" I yelled back, while typing.

"Come unlock the gate and let me run to my locker!"

"No!" I yelled, continuing to work.

About 5 minutes later, the secretary got on the PA and announced, "Anyone left in the building needs to leave immediately."

Thank goodness, I thought. The kids will leave and I won't have to go out there and deal with them!

About 10 minutes after that, I grabbed a workbook and headed to the office to make copies. I let myself through the gate, crossed the hall towards the gym that connects my side of the building to the office, and smiled politely at the two firemen standing at the door outside, with axes over their shoulders and some kind of monitors aimed at the ceiling.

"Uh.. Ma'm?" I heard as I opened the door to the gym.

"Yes?" I said, stepping back out into the hallway.

"You need to leave the building. Now."

"Okay..." I said, looking out the window past them at the students and teachers and janitors and secretaries gathered on the dirt across the parking lot from the building. "Can I at least grab my purse?"

"No," he said. "Now."

"Okay." I headed out of the building, walked past all of the firetrucks and police cars surrounding the building with lights flashing, through the conversations about the gas leak, and joined some of my fellow teachers on the "lawn".

"You were in there this whole time?" Jessica asked, incredulous. "Didn't you smell the gas?"

....

When they let us back in the building, 20 minutes later, I grabbed my purse, threw my books into my bag, and headed home to do the work.

Maybe, one of these days, I should figure out what marijuana actually smells like.