Food, Glorious Food

"The Omnivore's Hundred is an eclectic and entirely subjective list of 100 items that Andrew Wheeler, co-author of the British food blog Very Good Taste, thinks every omnivore should try at least once in his life."

via Chocolate & Zucchini


The ones in bold are the ones I've eaten. I've done better than I would guess, especially if you eliminate the ones ruled out for religious reasons. What about you?

The VGT Omnivore’s Hundred:

1. Venison
2. Nettle tea
3. Huevos rancheros
4. Steak tartare
5. Crocodile
6. Black pudding (my ancestors must be ashamed)
7. Cheese fondue
8. Carp
9. Borscht (which, despite the numerous times it was served to us last summer, I still like a lot)
10. Baba ghanoush
11. Calamari (the best was at Bambara)
12. Pho
13. PB&J sandwich
14. Aloo gobi
15. Hot dog from a street cart
16. Epoisses (A cheese so strong it's rumored to have been banned from French public transport? How have I missed this?)
17. Black truffle (mmm... truffle...)
18. Fruit wine made from something other than grapes (My mother apparently "accidentally" fed the infant me fermented apple juice)
19. Steamed pork buns
20. Pistachio ice cream
21. Heirloom tomatoes (Thanks, Liberty Heights!)
22. Fresh wild berries
23. Foie gras
24. Rice and beans (made some just last week!)
25. Brawn, or head cheese
26. Raw Scotch Bonnet pepper
27. Dulce de leche (A wonderful way to get children to drink milk!)
28. Oysters
29. Baklava
30. Bagna cauda
31. Wasabi peas
32. Clam chowder in a sourdough bowl
33. Salted lassi (I love a lassi, but I've never tried them salted)
34. Sauerkraut
35. Root beer float
36. Cognac with a fat cigar
37. Clotted cream tea
38. Vodka jelly/Jell-O
39. Gumbo
40. Oxtail (I watched my dad eat one in Italy, though!)
41. Curried goat
42. Whole insects
43. Phaal
44. Goat’s milk
45. Malt whisky from a bottle worth £60/$120 or more
46. Fugu
47. Chicken tikka masala (LOVE it!)
48. Eel
49. Krispy Kreme original glazed doughnut
50. Sea urchin
51. Prickly pear
52. Umeboshi
53. Abalone
54. Paneer
55. McDonald’s Big Mac Meal
56. Spaetzle (Yay! I love Spaetzle!)
57. Dirty gin martini
58. Beer above 8% ABV
59. Poutine (sounds gross)
60. Carob chips
61. S’mores
62. Sweetbreads
63. Kaolin
64. Currywurst
65. Durian
66. Frogs’ legs
67. Beignets, churros, elephant ears or funnel cake (I'm offended they've grouped these together!)
68. Haggis
69. Fried plantain
70. Chitterlings, or andouillette
71. Gazpacho
72. Caviar and blini
73. Louche absinthe
74. Gjetost, or brunost
75. Roadkill
76. Baijiu
77. Hostess Fruit Pie
78. Snail
79. Lapsang souchong
80. Bellini
81. Tom yum
82. Eggs Benedict
83. Pocky
84. Tasting menu at a three-Michelin-star restaurant.
85. Kobe beef
86. Hare
87. Goulash
88. Flowers
89. Horse
90. Criollo chocolate
91. Spam
92. Soft shell crab
93. Rose harissa
94. Catfish
95. Mole poblano
96. Bagel and lox
97. Lobster Thermidor
98. Polenta
99. Jamaican Blue Mountain coffee
100. Snake

P.S. Am totally procrastinating 1) grading vocabulary tests, 2) doing laundry, 3) doing dishes, and 4) dealing emotionally with my 5th period class. I will probably deal with all of those in the next few days, and will post again. Tah!

Side by Side

I suppose it's inevitable that I've been constantly comparing my old school, Dead President Junior High, to my new school, Dead Playwright Middle School (thanks Teresa for the name suggestion!). Here are some of my observations:

Schedule
DPJH - 8 classes total, divided into 4 80-minute classes per day ("Block Schedule"), plus an advisory period
DPMS - 6 60-minute classes that meet every day

My opinion - It's an adjustment to realize that I see these kids every day, and it's both a blessing and a curse, depending on the kid/class. I do think it's better for learning and retention to have the daily touch, and I'm glad we have the longer class period. When we weren't on block schedule at DPJH, we had 7 50-minute classes a day. That was really too short to be effective. An hour is just about right.

School Size
DPJH - about 1100 students
DPMS - about 350 students.
Bonus Fact: Dead Playwright School DISTRICT has about 1400 students enrolled, which was the size of Dead President Junior High's student body when I started there.

My opinion - This is one of the biggest differences. It's odd to be in the halls during passing periods and realize 1) I already know almost all of the 8th grade, and I'm recognizing most of the 6th and 7th graders and 2) I'm not in danger of death by stampede. It's SUCH a more managable size, and I especially see the difference in the administrators as they do their job.

Dress Code
DPJH - STRICT! Only navy, white, and khaki allowed, must be a polo shirt with buttons, and a bunch of other rules that took me about 5 years to memorize.
DPMS - No dress code, other than the usual rules for safety and modesty.

My opinion - I didn't realize how much I would miss dress code! While it is easier to figure out kids' personalities when they get to wear what they want, there was something about having a set outfit for school that made the students and the school seem ready to learn. It's kind of like the reasoning behind church clothes. However, I don't miss having to regulate and enforce it all of the time, and I don't miss wearing it myself (which I voluntarily did for the last 2 year at DPJH).

Classroom
DPJH - Gloriously large! I was totally spoiled, and I fully recognize it. On the other hand, it was essentially a bomb shelter - no windows, pitch black without the florescent lights, and it was perpetually either freezing or boiling hot.
DPMS - About half the size of my old room, no carpet, long and narrow, but IT HAS WINDOWS! That OPEN!!

My Opinion - I think my exclamation marks have already given it.

Bonus Note - DPMS let me paint my room, too. Pictures coming soon!

Phone
DPJH - No cell phone reception in my classroom or the halls and the closest landline to me was in the teacher's lounge, on the other side of the buildling
DPMS - Full bars in the room, and every teacher has a phone.
Bonus Note: My own classroom phone is apparently haunted. It rings several times a day, but there's only a dial tone when I pick it up. Also, this ringing overrides the "Do Not Disturb" setting on the phone, so it rings during class. I've submitted a repair request, but in the meantime I keep it unplugged unless I need to call out.

My Opinion - I fought for years for the teachers to get classroom phones at DPJH. It was both a safety and a convienence issue, so I'm thrilled to have one now. However, it comes with the expectation that teachers make at least 5 phone calls a week to students' parents. I HATE calling parents. I'm not much of one for talking on the phone as it is, and calling up strangers who may or may not speak English is even less appealling to me. This will probably be my biggest hurdle of the year.

Theater
DPJH - Umm... have you read my blog?
DPMS - None.

Other Teachers
DPJH - Average age: 50-ish
DPMS - Average age: 35-ish

My Opinion - I feel a bit like when you're a gifted kid who's been in a mainstream class for years, then suddenly gets placed in a gifted program. There were some amazing teachers at DPJH (honestly, they're probably the ones who are reading this!), but there were also some tired, overworked, distracted, and even downright bad teachers there, too. Here at DPMS, a lot of the things that made me stand out before, most of the teachers do. This is an extremely dedicated staff. They're friendly, deeply attached to the school and the students, and they go above and beyond. I've run into many of them working here after hours and on the weekend, a lot have dropped by my room to observe me during their consultations, and from what I've seen, they're really, really good at what they do. Honestly, it's freaking me out. What I do normally is now the average, and that's hard for me to handle.

Bonus Note - Apparently there's a regular FAC meeting for the teachers. That would be the Friday Afternoon Club, which is held at the bar down the street from the school. I'm heading there as soon as I finish this post. If that doesn't show you some differences, I don't know what does!

Lesson Plans
DPJH - Not once in my 6 years did anyone ask me for a lesson plan, be it verbal or written, or what curriculum I was teaching. In fact, the only people who knew what was going on in my class were the ones who attended it or the ones who asked.
DPMS - My principal (who, I should say before I point out the bad, is amazing and I totally respect him) is requiring all new teachers to the school to submit full written lesson plans for every day of class, to be submitted weekly. And, oh yeah, observations, pacing guide, curriculum coaches, etc.

My Opinion - This is a struggle for me, mostly because it takes so much freakin' time. Of course I constructed my lessons at DPJH around objectives and assessments and expected outcomes and such, but I never wrote them down. Writing these lesson plans take about 6 hours a week - it's why I worked a full day last Saturday and why I'm going to work another full day tomorrow (with no extra pay, by the way). I appreciate the preparation in some ways - it's nice to know a week ahead of time exactly what I'm doing, and I've even been ahead of the copying and such. Still, it takes up a ton of my time, and I really could use a weekend.

The Students

Ethnicity
DPJH - About 65% Caucasian, 25% Hispanic, 8% Pacific Islander, 2% other
DPMS - About 70% Hispanic, 28% Caucasian, 2% other

My Opinion - I've enrolled in a Spanish for Teachers class. I think I'll be able to pick up the accent quicker than I thought, since I'm hearing it a lot more often. The students here frequently talk to each other, and sometimes to me, in Spanish.

Socio-Economic Status
Both schools are technically Title-I qualified, which means most of the students are on free-or-reduced-lunch (i.e. live in poverty). DPJH had a larger range of SES, though, with some kids who were diffinitly middle class. DPMS doesn't seem to have that upper-end.

Abilities
DPJH - The "gifted" kids were pulled out separate from all core classes except math and stayed together in a very tightly-knit GT program. My 9th grade English class consisted of a full mix of abilities - from students who were definitely gifted but had chosen not to be in the GT program to kids who read and wrote at probably a 5th or 6th grade level.
DPMS - I teach all of the 8th grade Language Arts classes, except for the one for students who speak no or very little English. The classes are divided by ability level and are very homogenous in that regard. The "honors" class actually means that those kids are at grade level. My lowest class probably reads and writes at a 3rd grade level, if not lower.

My opinion - I am begining to understand the argument for mainstreaming. I'm not fully converted, but I don't like the homogenous classes for ability. The low-level kids just have too many other factors (hello, distractability!) that work against them. I'll probably write more about this in a future entry.

Class Size
DPJH - Last year, my smallest class was 28 kids and the largest was 39 (that was my English class). Overall record - 49 students in my Advanced Drama class. Average size - probably 38.
DPMS - Here are my student body counts:
1st period: 22
2nd period: 21
4th period: 27
5th period: 19

My Opinion - Anyone who says that class size isn't a factor in student achievement is 1) obviously not a teacher and 2) should be forced to try to teach 40 junior high school students English grammar right after lunch on the day before a full moon. And let's throw in a lock-down drill in the middle of class, just for fun.


So. There are a few of my observations. I was terribly homesick for DPJH last week. It's getting better, especially now that I'm getting to know my students here. There are a lot of things I like about DPMS, and there are a lot of things I miss about DPJH (especially you, Ben, Kelley, Janelle, and John!). But that's life, isn't it?

You've Gotta Have Heart

For a lot of you, for me, but mostly for Heidi.

The link

Storybook

One week into the job, one week away from meeting my students. I have a lot more to think through and say about school, but I'm going to wait a while more and instead delve into some reminiscing. Before I do, though, a heartfelt thanks to all of you who wrote/commented/called to commiserate and encourage me after my last entry. It means a lot.

See? I'm already being sentimental! You'll see why.


I think it first started when I was unpacking the boxes labeled "8th Grade Classroom Library". I was thrilled to discover these boxes in the book storage room at my new school, since I want to make books as attainable as possible for my students. I had one boxful of books I've bought at used book sales/books I accidentally bought duplicates of (I can't for the life of me figure out why I own 4 copies of "The Scarlet Letter"), but I was glad to have my collection flushed out.

It looks like the previous teacher gathered books for her classroom library from the same sources I did, since they all had those yellowing pages and the used-bookstore paper smell. Do you know that smell? Have you ever walked into the back of a used bookstore and, finding yourself alone in the aisle and completely surrounded by books, breathed deeply through the nose and thought "that's what knowledge smells like"? No? Maybe that's just me.

Sorting through the books, though, was startling. Over and over again I would pull a book out of the box, glance at the cover, and have a sudden and total sensory-recall. I do mean all of the senses. One book even triggered a bit of nausea; not because of the plot, but because it was a book I read on one of our car trips. I would get so engrossed in the books that I would read until my motion sickness got so bad that I HAD to either put it down or throw up. So, I'd hold the book with my thumb marking my place in one hand while I put my forehead against the cold window and take in deep breaths of the little bit of fresh air from the crack you could make with the latch of the windows in the backseat of the minivan until the headache and nausea passed enough for me to keep reading. Repeat until done with book or we reach our destination.

Sometimes specific images from the books themselves are what immediately spring to mind, small moments that for whatever are totally embedded in my permanent memory; such as:

- The file cabinet full of clippings in folders in From The Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler
- The description of skin being turned into lampshades in Starring Sally J. Freedman As Herself
- The soft red light in the redecorated attic in A Little Princess
- The partially-eaten face of the pilot in Hatchet
- The shimmers in Island of the Blue Dolphins
- The impression of the dad's button on the protagonist's face in Bridge to Terabithia
- The sound of Bach on an organ in an empty chapel in The Small Rain
- The sound of the sword hitting the silver chair in The Chronicles of Narnia
- The bandages in After the Dancing Days
- The uncooked pancakes in Beezus and Ramona
- The wiggling toes in Pippi Longstocking
- The one million squares in Cheaper By The Dozen
- The gingerbread stars in Mary Poppins
- The writing tablet smashing over Gilbert's head in Anne of Green Gables
- The mud and the wool suits of James Herriot
- The sausage pillow in Little Women
- The pickles in The BFG
- The ax in Where the Red Fern Grows
- The broken china doll in The Wizard of Oz
- The burning flesh in Johnny Tremain
- The bumpy sides of coins in Follow My Leader

And on and on and on.

Take this list (from a blog my sister sent me that inspired this entry), specifically looking at Laura Ingalls Wilder's series:

Blacking on wallpaper. Black-eyed papoose. Sugar snow. Vanity cakes. Water splashed on freezing plants. Bad wells. Real white sugar, wrapped in brown paper. A tin cup and two pennies. Sprigging. (????) Jigging. (?????) Jack, the brindle dog. Baths in used bathwater. School for the Blind. Common Taters on the Axe.

Like Jezebel says, "These are, like some 1800s Goodnight, Moon, seared on my brain." Seriously. Every single one of those images I vividly recall, but I can't for the life of me remember any of the math I learned after about 9th grade. Trig? Calculus? Gone. But, as Janelle and Christine witnessed when we took our day trip to the cabin, I do remember how to twist newspaper into sticks when you are out of smaller wood for kindling. Thank goodness Pa taught Laura how to do that during the long winter!

I don't know if you will understand when I tell you that these books from my childhood trigger senses for me that are somewhere in between smells and tastes. Do you remember in A Room With A View when Eleanor Lavish tells Charlotte that every city has a smell? Aside from the joke about what European cities usually smell like, every city I've been to does have it's own sort of memory-taste. That's one of the main reasons I like to travel - I love that I know what the air and atmosphere of Moscow, Paris, New Orleans, Portland, San Francisco, Chicago, Tijuana, Dover, or Venice is like inside of me. I breathe in those cities, and I breathe in my books and later, when I'm outside of them, I can touch them and be home.

Can I Survive This Overbearing?

The problem with not blogging on a regular basis is I tend to wait until I get so wound up by something that I NEED to blog about it. Brace yourself - I'm going to sort out my day.

School started for me on Monday. No kids yet - we've got a week of new teacher orientation first (that alone should be a signal to you fellow DPJH teachers how different this district is).

Monday was a lot of logistics, including a bus tour of the district. DPJH is a Title 1-qualified school, so I do have some experience working with at-risk students. But when the tour guide points to a row of tiny, run-down apartments and says that 2 or 3 families live in each of those before pointing out the trailer park on our left, well, you know you're in for a challenge.

Tuesday - Technology training, time to work in our rooms. Rather than planning, I spent the time alphabetizing and putting away the books in the my room. Mindless work, but my procrastination actually paid off today.

We were scheduled to meet with the curriculum coaches/mentors this morning. The 6th grade language arts teacher is also new, and our shared mentor is the 7th grade LA teacher, Joe. I'm liking him. And, boy, was I glad he was at the meeting this morning.

After talking about vocabulary lists and the school's sacred goals, one of the coaches gave each of us a "pacing guide" for the first quarter. Let me translate - she handed us each a two-page paper that dictated exactly what we were supposed to teach our classes. It came with the instructions that we were NOT to deviate from the pacing guide AT ALL. Any resources we wanted to use had to be approved by the curriculum director at the district, but for the first quarter we are required to only teach non-fiction, finding the main idea, and writing a summary paragraph. No, let me repeat - ONLY finding the main idea and writing a summary paragraph, using ONLY non-fiction.

To be fair, let me give you a little bit more context behind this district mandate:

The state test scores for last year was released this week, and this district tested abominably low, as usual. As in, about 70% of the students were either Not Proficient or Partially Proficient (i.e. failed) in Math, Reading, and Writing. Where the state average for scores were in the 60s, these kids were in the 40s.

(Quick reminder - trailer park.)

So, one month ago the district appointed a new superintendent and a new curriculum director. These two folks took a look at the test scores and concluded that drastic measures must be taken. That is, they must stipulated EXCATLY what will be taught in the math and language arts classrooms, how it will be taught, using which pages in what textbook, and demanded that the teachers agree to follow these instructions with total fidelity.

Without asking any teachers for thoughts or opinions, by the way.

Which is why I was glad Joe was there at this meeting - he was just as blown away as we were at the requirements. Thank goodness. If he had taken it all as de rigeur, I would have been a lot more concerned about working in this district. We were all upset, though. In the frantic panic that comes after receiving shockingly bad news, we asked whatever questions we could to try to salvage our personal teaching styles and lesson plans. Which made it worse - we were told that in all likelihood, they were going to eliminate reading novels from the curriculum altogether because it "takes up too much classroom instruction time". It was suggested that the school offer an extra-curricular book club instead if we were that concerned about kids reading entire books.



!!!!!!


Look, I get it. I know that this is a poor, transitory, minority, already-below-grade-level population. I know that the school will be on Academic Watch this year, and that the threat of the entire district being shut down looms over our heads thanks to NCLB's fantastical expectations that schools and schools alone can overcome racism, poverty, immigration issues, the evaporation of reading for pleasure, and the persistent idea that school is something you just have to suffer through. Without adequate funding.

But what makes me so dysphoric is I want to teach kids that there is such unimaginable beauty out there in the world. That there are huge ideas and horrible events and remarkable people and places they've heard of and places they've never heard of and they can each get out there and explore all of it. I want to rejoice in their worlds of video games and hormones and sports, but then show them the fencing, fighting, torture, revenge, giants, monsters, chases, escapes, true love, and miracles that make life wonderful. I want to give them stories!

Of course the skills on the test are important, and of course I teach them in my class. But my students learned those skills while they were discovering the art of language.

So I was angry and sad and hurt and so many other things all at once. So were the other teachers. Joe was kind enough to mention later on that while he was upset, he couldn't imagine how upset I must be to have given up a job and moved to a different state only to have the expectations and very nature of the job I took yanked out from under me.

There's no getting around it, either. This is how it must go.

But here's the reason why I didn't quit today (aside from my upcoming first mortgage payment) -

My principal and the two coaches at the school sat down with us after lunch, acknowledged our feelings ("there's some bad mojo seeping out into the hall"), validated our feelings ("and I get that - I felt the same way when I heard about this"), and did something that I've never had an administration do: listened to us, talked honestly and openly about the issue with us, and treated us like professionals who know what they are doing. I am putting my faith in the remarkable impression every person I've met at this school has given me.

So I'll go back tomorrow and I'll teach the lessons they tell me to teach and I'll say what they tell me to say and I'll hope that someday I'll be able to teach these kids about the art of language and the power of storytelling.

I'll tell you what, though. My kids are going to write the best damn summary paragraphs those testers have ever seen.

Life Lessons Part 1

This

is just awesome.

Here's the teaser, if you have no idea what I'm talking about:




(Incidentally, while I am enough of a geek to delight in this tragicomic musical, I am sadly not geeky enough to have caught it while it was still free to watch online. Still, totally worth the $4 on iTunes.)

Hello, Hello There!

I finally got my internet to work! Praise the technology gods and look forward to more entries from me.


Now if only I could get my external hard drive to work....

Run and Tell That!

A little treat for all of my former-students-turned-current-readers:

Guess what's being turned into a movie?

Close Every Door

Three stories for you:

Story #1 - My Stupidity

The day I signed the papers for my place, I naturally dashed right over. Since having a garage was a new feature for me, I immediately found the door opener in the laundry room, slid it into it's little place on the driver's sun visor, opened the garage up, drove my car in, and then hit the button next to the garage door to close it, relishing the thought that my car wasn't going to be 200 degrees when I drove away later.

That's when I realized that I had just locked the only opener I had to the garage inside it.

After a series of phone calls (my real estate agent's assistant, my sister, my real estate agent, a locksmith) and some begging for some late emergency house call, a locksmith met me at the garage an hour or so later. He cracked open his tool kit and with a lot of swearing and fiddling opened my garage door.

So I carried the opener with me in my purse for a few days until I bought and installed one of those key-in-the-code openers. And about a week after the lock-in, another locksmith came out and fixed the broken door latch so I could still get inside, even if the power was out.

Believe it or not, that was not the first time I've locked myself out of somewhere just after moving in....


Story #2 - Why I'm Afraid of Sliding Glass Doors

Two apartments ago, the last time I had a balcony, I stepped through the sliding glass door my first morning there to enjoy the lovely view of the parking lot. Since it was July and the AC was running, I shut the door behind me.

What I didn't realize until about 3 minutes later when I heard the phone ringing and I tried to go inside to answer it was that the sliding door had a faulty latch. It had been installed upside down, so whenever it got bumped or jarred the latch would easily slip into a locked position.

The balcony was not that far off the ground, but I knew there was no point in climbing down and trying the front door - I hadn't opened that door yet that morning, which meant it was still locked, bolted, and chained. I spent after 15 minutes alternating between trying to pry the door open and pacing in frustration.

By then, some of my neighbors noticed me out there and came over to help. One of the hopped the railing and hoisted himself onto my balcony to also try prying/jiggling the door open, but it was steadfastly locked. Finally, one of the spectators called the landlord to report the young lady stuck on the balcony. He drove over with some screwdrivers and keys and attacked the front door. It was at this point that we discovered that the front door's chain was apparently installed by the same workman - it had been attached to the door vertically rather than horizontally. All the landlord had to do, then, was open the door as far as the chain would allow, stick his hand through the crack, then lift the chain off it's holder. Voila! I was free!

That's why I never fully shut sliding doors behind me.

Story #3 - The Nice Locksmith

It took me a little over a week to get my mail at this new place. The previous owners claimed they never actually used the property's mailbox, so they had no idea where a key would be. I drove out the post office, and they claimed it wasn't under their jurisdiction. The postal worker did give me the name of a locksmith they work with who does discount work. Indeed, he said it would only cost $45 to get a new lock on the mailbox (as opposed to the $100 it cost for the new garage door lock, or the $95 it cost for the emergency door opening from story #1).

The locksmith promised to come out "sometime Friday afternoon or Saturday". He actually showed up at 1:00 on Friday, right when I was walking up to my front door with arms full of groceries. He gave me my new mail key, and then handed back $20 of the payment. He explained that while he was working on the lock, he had started talking to some of my neighbors. They told him that the HOA had a guy who would sometimes change locks for new tenants for free. The locksmith felt bad that I was paying so much for a service that apparently didn't need to be done, so he offered me some of the money back.

So, after three different locksmiths visiting in one week's time, I know for a fact they make a good living. However, they can also be decent people.

Love

(from here)

I Can Hear the Bells

In preparation for The Big Move, I took my cat, Natasha, down to Grand Junction about a week beforehand. Having moved with a cat before, I knew it would be a LOT easier on all of us if she wasn't there.

I missed having her around, though. She's good company. I was glad, then, when my parents brought her up with them last weekend. Now I get to hear that little jingle-jingle trotting through the house, looking for a scratching.

She's looking particularly fetching these days, too. While in Junction, I decided it was about time for her annual shaving. So, in keeping with tradition, here are her before and after shots:

Before















Oh, the fluffiness!


















And after


















Now, despite her expression in this picture, she actually loves having her fur shaved. She's so much cooler for the hot season that she's a much happier kitty. Plus, less furballs.

The place I took her to this time would not shave her below her hocks, which makes her appear to be wearing go-go boots (yes, Emma, I think of you when I type that). They did, however, shave her tail, as seen here:






My parents keep calling her Rizzo.











P.S. A big shout out to those of you who have recently joined my blog readership and were nice enough to post comments! Specifically:

- It's great to hear from you, Shauna! Personally, I keep up on all of your adventures through Emily.

- Ben: Damn right we did! And at least you won't have to worry about the discomfort of wearing earring and getting your hair tangled in the headset. There are advantages to being bald.

- Courtney, Mary, and Keary: Aw, your comments just make me miss you guys and our drama class. I'm glad you had as much fun as I did teaching you and thank you for giving me such encouragement!

I Am Not Dead Yet

But I am in Denver!

Yes, friends, I am officially a Coloradan again. Not that I am registered here or have a CO driver's license again or have even figured out where my mailbox is. I am, however, a homeowner in the state.

Wait, let me do that punctuation again.

I am, however, a homeowner in the state!!!!

And said home is gradually actually starting to feel like one and less like a storage facility. I am almost unpacked. Thanks to my awesome family, a lot got done this weekend; including my awesome new shelves.

Yes, this is where you would expect to see a picture of the awesome new shelves. However, I have lost the baggie I cleverly filled with those little nubbins that hold the shelves up in my bookcases. Without those, I can't fill the bookcases. Without all of my bookcases being set up, I can't unpack my books. And, as you may recall, those books make up quite a bit of my packages.

Still, a lot has been accomplished, and I have already had some adventures. Which shall fill later blog entries.

Sorry, by the way, about the lack of updates. My internet has been inconsistent, so I've not been a good blogger. I will do my best, though, to post more regularly.

To cap off this entry, here's a photo of my new hometown my dad took a few weeks ago. I particularly like the feather-like propeller-in-motion framing.

Move Baby Move

I love McSweeney's.

So Long Dearie

I am all cleaned out (with only a slight finger injury) and gone! So long, Utah!



P.S. More to come soon, I promise.

Pick-a-Little/Talk-a-Little

For someone who's on summer vacation, I've been a bad blogger. Sorry. This week was ripe with blog fodder, but part of the potential entries involved my multiple freak-outs about moving. And those freak-outs are not the least bit conducive to sitting in front of my laptop and verbalizing my thoughts.

So, to catch you up, here's what's been going on in my world:

Today
I spent the morning on the phone, trying to fix the issues I'm having with my moving company. I don't like movers.

The day perked up when I headed to the opening session of the downtown farmer's market. It was hot and crowded and very lively. I hung out with Janelle and Dallas and Janelle's family, got my first sunburn of the season, and didn't buy a single thing.

Next came errands, mostly setting up a new bank account (my current one is local and from my college days, so it's about time I got one with a national company). In the process, I found out that I have a savings account I didn't know about. From 1991. With over $2000 in it. I wonder how much of that is interest from the past 17 years. It kind of reminded me of that episode of Futurama where Fry discovers what 1000 years of interest did to his old bank account. I think I'll put it towards my move. Imagine that.

After errands and more time on the phone with the movers, I realized that I hadn't eaten yet today, so I picked up what I affectionately and nostalgically call a European meal - some good crusty bread, a yogurt, and a pear. Yum!

Then, off to get my hair cut. I told April she had free reign with my hair - she's really good at figuring out people's personal styles as well as hair. I trust her, and I wanted something different. She gave me this cute asymmetrical disconnected cut that I really like.

And as I type this, I realize that as a good blogger, I should probably post a photo. So here I am in all of my Photo Booth glory:
(By the way, you see that tower of boxes behind me? Yeah, those are all filled with books. And that would be Tower #1 of 4. Seriously, I have a LOT of books.)

The day wrapped up with a visit with my brother at Liberty Heights, take-out from Rumbi's, and an evening getting ready for my trip to Grand Junction tomorrow.

Friday
Janelle, Christine and I ran away to Bear Lake for a day. We were going to do a slumber-party-type-of-trip, but Janelle's husband had some issues with the idea of Janelle and the kids being away overnight, so we settled for a day trip. 2 hours up, mostly spent listening to the Broadway channel on Christine's satellite radio, then lunch at LaBeau's, movies at the cabin, and then back to city life again in the evening. We actually did pack swimsuits and towels and all for the beach, but it was rather chilly up there. The lake is full and blue and pretty, but we didn't go near it, opting instead for building a fire at the cabin and passing the baby around over movies. It was much-needed by all.

Monday-Thursday
Packing, packing, packing. And a trip to the temple, some grocery shopping and home cooking (a treat for me, since I usually don't bother during the school year. The featured meal of the week was fish tacos. Oh, I also got sucked into reading "The Shadow of the Wind", which I highly recommend to you book lovers out there (of adult ages, I'm afraid. As your former teacher, I can't recommend this to you lovely, bibliophiliac ex-students of mine until you're old enough for books with scenes of, shall we say for those who were in my English class this year, "pink bits"). It's terribly fun. Jason's the one who recommended it to me, emailing me the suggestion when he was a mere 30 pages in. I finished it first, telling him that he had to call me when he finished it, too. He did last night at 11:00pm, which is why I didn't go to bed until 2:30 am, which is why I've had a headache all night and really ought to go to bed soon.

Anyway.

On Thursday I hit a major funk of a mood, feeling very angry and sad and stressed and all kinds of other things at once. So, naturally, I called my mom. She's very nice to me when I'm in complaining moods, which has been all-to-frequent this week. After I got off the phone with her, feeling better, I realized that that was the first real human interaction I had had since Sunday. Four days without really talking to anyone. I mean, I was busy and active and all, which explains why I didn't even realize how isolated I had been. I was surprised, though, at what a toll that took on my moods. As I said before, Friday was a much-needed day off.

Oh, and up until the trip yesterday, I had been very good, exercising about 1 hour a day every day since Saturday. It's a lot easier to do when it's mid-morning, as opposed to the early evening. I'm not at all eager to go back to work.

Tomorrow I'm off to good ol' Grand Junction. It's mostly a trip of practicality - I'm taking the cat down so she misses the rest of the move (she's already totally freaked out by the boxes), getting my car repaired, and hopefully hanging out with the folks a bit and playing with Emily and co.

There. I've been a good blogger, given a thorough update, and now I'm off to bed. If I can find my way there through the towers of boxes.

TTFN!

Magic Man

Last weekend, while my parents were in town for Andy's graduation, we went furniture shopping for my new place. Specifically, I was hunting for new armchairs for the living room.

We looked at Ikea first, and while there were some styles that I liked, the color choices were not good. I began to fear that the only way to match the existing couch was to get chairs in stark cream or black. That, or get rid of the couch and start from scratch. Neither were favorable options in my mind.

Then my parents suggested we stop by another favorite furniture store of mine, Copenhagen West. My bedroom set is from this upscale Scandinavian store, and I love their stuff. Upon entering, we were greeted by an enthusiastic salesman, Casey.

Casey: Hello! Anything I can help you find today?
Me: Yes. I'm looking for an armchair or two to go in a room with a dark teal couch and butter yellow walls.
Casey: Well, there's nothing like a challenge, now is there?

Casey proceeded to lead us on a zig-zaggy tour of the store, pointing out various styles of chairs. Our destination, it turns out, was what I now refer to as The Magic Pillow.

Casey produced The Magic Pillow from a display towards the back, proclaiming it one of his favorites. "My partner and I have two on our couch at home!" I immediately liked the colors in it, so we set off through the store again, this time with The Magic Pillow leading the way, gripped by Casey.

And lo, we came upon a lovely little swivel leather armchair in apple green. I never would have picked that color, but it went beautifully with The Magic Pillow, and when my dad held up a swatch of yellow fabric he found that is close to my walls, I fell in love.

It's close to this style. Now picture it in something like this color. Crazy, right? I'm telling you, the pillow is magic!

And this is why it helps to shop with someone who knows how to decorate (not to mention two very generous parents who not only bought me two of these darling chairs, but also two Magic Pillows - thanks again, parents!).





Behold, the magic:

Okay, it's better in person than on a blurry picture taken via Blackberry. Still, do you see how it actually matches the teal couch? Magic!

Give Them What They Want

Why I love the internet:

I posted an ad on Craig's List saying, essentially,
"Broken NordicTrack Elliptical. Free, if you pick it up."

Within 36 hours I had three offers, and this afternoon it was gone.

Yay for Craig's List!

All Choked Up

So many posts I want to type, so little energy! The end is in sight, though, people! And come that glorious day next week when I will have nothing (NOTHING) to do other than packing my apartment and resolving banking issues and organizing the piles of things I've toted home from my classroom and updating my computer and waking up when I want to and not at the ungodly hour some adults from agricultural times decided teenagers (and me) would be at their peak learning times, at that time, my faithful readers, I shall blog, blog, BLOG!

A word in the meantime about emotional teenagers (and me).

So the Farewell assembly was Tuesday, and it went very well. Towards the end, Bonnie and Lindly sang For Good (technical side note - they wore peach and teal shirts respectively. A nice nod to the Wicked characters, but horrible to light when my only cyc colors are red, blue, green, and orange. After much debate with very patient techies, Ben and I finally found just the right blend of red, blue, and orange. And it was pretty.)

I was in my usual place in the front row (Handy for 1) checking the sound in the house since the booth's monitors are totally unreliable, 2) running the projector, and 3) being totally in control. Or at least feeling that way. Remember the God-like character Ed Harris played on "The Truman Show"? Yeah, that's totally me during assemblies). I had my headset on and partway through the song, I heard some odd noises. For a moment, I thought the headsets were going out on us again. Looking around, I discovered that the noise was not in the headset, but rather the audience. Some of the girls around me had started crying.

The tears, I think, actually started with the Dance Company number Kelley put together for the assembly. It was very much a "saying good-bye" piece, and that triggered a lot of the tears. "For Good" sent them over the edge. By the end of the song, there were at least three girls and one guy sitting near me who were sobbing (SOBBING). The can't-catch-your-breath-I-don't-care-who-hears-me-because-
it's(gasp)so(gasp)SAD!-kind-of-sobbing.

Awesome.

Especially when Ben introduced his gift to the ninth graders. As SBO advisor, he's been taking a lot of pictures since he was installed; which, coincidently, was when this year's ninth graders were little obedient sevvies. So he made them a slideshow of retrospective pictures. All bespectacled and metallic-grinning with their new polos buttoned all the way up. They were so cute.

And any sort of emotional control they had found during the faculty band's numbers scattered and the tears started up again.

To be fair, I used to cry a lot at their age, too. Mostly at movies. There was a time when any movie brought me to tears, including an anniversary screening of "Pinocchio". Then I felt silly and I got very good at controlling my tear ducts (Yay for the intellectual conquering the emotional!). So, despite a lot of pent-up emotion this week (including the horrendous task of saying good-bye to Heidi - she's off to Ireland for a month, so this chapter of our friendship is done), I kept control and didn't cry.

Even today! When my ninth graders all left, when the administration moved up the refund time, canceling my last period with my Advanced Drama kids (I was furious that we didn't get to formally close the class!), when I gave Sonetra my copy of Nobody's Princess because he couldn't get it at the library and he's fallen in love with Greek mythology this year and he was literally speechless, when a student from my first year at Dead President Junior High came back to tell me he got things figured out and he's graduating from high school tomorrow (!!!), when I had to say good-bye to students I've taught all three years and whom I love dearly, I kept control.

That is, until Jackie came to my classroom and gave me a DVD. She had interviewed and filmed dozens of students and teachers, asking them for memories of me and farewells for me. It's hilarious (thanks largely to Jacob and Daniel, of Shakespeare Festival/Nick's eulogy fame, who managed to work their way into almost every interview), and touching. It's also what finally made me let go and cry.

The Melody of Spring

I typically end my Drama 1 class with a Lip Sync assignment. It's a popular one with a good reuptation - when I answer questions about the class on the first day, they say "Do we get to do the Lip Sync thing?"

This year, two of my students asked if they could do a video instead of a live performance. I knew they had taken video productions (a new class at our school), so I figured, what the hey?

I expected a video of them turning on the camera and pretending to sing along while the music played off camera. Their actual project is far more awesome than that. And, they put it up on YouTube themselves, so I get to post it here for you to enjoy and for you to see two eighth-grade reasons why I'm sad to be leaving.




(I don't get the antlers, but I love the antlers!)

Rent

I paid my last rent check! Yay me!










(Not my actual check)
(Nor my actual name)
(Nor the actual amount I pay in rent. Trust me.)

Lookin' Good But Feelin' Bad

This week has been a turmoil of emotions for me.

First, happiness:
Teresa, Nick, and I rendez-voused at my place on Saturday and watched more of "Slings & Arrows".
Sunday, Heidi, Brent and I drove to Boise to see Saltimbanco (which is totally worthe the drive to Boise!). We stayed the night at the nice Cambria Suites, and I got to meet Heidi's awesome friend, Mary. I'll post pictures from this trip soon.

Then, wonder:
As we drove into the valley on Monday afternoon, I suddenly felt very strongly like this wasn't home for me anymore. Denver's home now, and this is just temporary. Odd that the feeling came so soon!

Then, stress:
Tuesday I got back to school to find Awards Night disaster. I'm not up to describing it here tonight, so just sympathize with me over screwed -up orders, zero time to cope with anything, and kids who suddenly decided that they want summer NOW.

Then, sadness:
I got an email from a woman who said she had just been hired to teach drama at Dead President Junior High next year. While I was thrilled that 1) they hired someone and 2) that person wanted me to help them "make a smooth transition", I was suddenly seized by a fervent and fierce mother-bear determination to protect my program and my kids. They are MINE!

Yeah, I know it's my choice to go, and I'm really not crazy or changing my mind. Still, as soon as I heard from my successor, I was terribly sad about leaving. I'm dreading starting over again, and I'm going to miss my colleagues, my students, and my department.

Then, realization:
I only have to wear dress code five more times!
(Again, my choice, so I'm not really complaining. Still, I totally get where the kids are coming from when they complain about it. I'm sick of it, too. However, I'm still totally in favor of it, so don't go misquoting me around school, oh dear students of mine!)

Then, pride:
After a lot (LOT) more stress and anxiety and determinated-not-crying, the Awards Night came together rather smoothly. My techlings did well with their first time running things without the old techies, many of my kids got awards, and I am downright proud of them all. And there's that sadness again.

Then, excitement:
The seller agreed to fix everything I requested for repairs based on the inspection! I tell you what, either this is the perfect time to buy, or these people are desperate to sell, or I'm missing some major problem with this place. I optimistically suspect the first.

Then, challenge:
Heidi and I decided to submit the teaching play we wrote last summer to a local playwriting festival. Scripts are due Saturday, so we decided to put it all together tonight. Ridiculously ignoring the chaos that is both of our lives right now, we planned for two hours and spent five instead. Still, it's done, we're submitting it, and I'm thrilled! Yay, us!

Now, exhaustion:
'Nuff said.

Given these glimpses of my emotional barometer these past few days (and this is indeed just a glimpse), is it any wonder that I'm sporting a stiff neck, a constant headache, and the perpetual desire to just sit down and cry (which I'm very good at burying)?

It'll come together. For now, I'm gathering boxes, looking forward to a weekend with the fam (they're in town for Andy's college graduation), and bracing myself for a lot of good-byes next week.

Show Me the Key

I left the house a little earlier than usual this morning so I could run to the grocery store on my way to school. I needed to get paper plates, cups, napkins, and some sort of treat for the AVID party 1st period. I dash into the store, grab my items, buy them, and then head out to my car. The radio key stopped working awhile ago on the driver's door, so I stuck my key in the lock and turned it.

It snapped off.

Now there's a fun way to start a workday morning, after a very long work week!

So there I am in the parking lot, about 5 blocks from school, 15 minutes before the bell rings, with part of my car key in my hand and part in the door's lock. I unlocked the back door with the radio key and reached in to manually let myself in. Stupidly optimistic, I tried starting the car with the stub of my key. Nada.

And here's where I am really thankful for cell phones. I called Ben, praying that he 1) hadn't taken the day off and 2) had his cell phone on him in his classroom. Success! I explained and he very kindly immediately kicked the kids out of his room and drove out to get me. While I waited, I called my brother and left a message, explaining my predicament and asking him if he could please, please, please go to my apartment, check to see if I had a spare key, then if I did, run it out to me at school.

I made it to class on time, buoyed by the news from Ben that he had brought Rock Band, "just in case." I told me class all about my morning's adventures, concluding that "Now I'm here, my car is way over there, and I have no idea how I'm getting home today!"

My students were surprised that I said that while laughing. I told them that I figured out a long time ago that the best way to cope with crazy situations like this is to realize what an awesome story it makes and to laugh. "... Just like the time I got robbed!" Which led to more questions.

During my 2nd period, while my students were rehearsing their final projects (our traditional lip sync competition), I told John (science teacher, drummer in our Rock Band group) the story via IM. He offered to drive me out to my apartment to fetch the spare key (which I was really, really hoping I had) during our consultation period. I know! I work with such nice people!

We headed out right after the bell. Thank goodness, I was right about having a spare key, so I retrieved my car after we picked up some lunch from Mad Greek to take back and share with Ben.

After school, we rendezvoused again for some much-needed Rock Band. Janelle stopped by the school for an audition, and we talked her into joining us, which freed me up to take a few pictures:








































Tomorrow I'm going to go make a whole lotta copies of my key.

Simple Little Things

Things I'm glad about:

- The spring rain.

- My cold is a relatively quick one.

- The trees that bloom purple and the green-blooming trees that grow in front of them.

- My peace lily is still alive!

- The Blackberry my sister gave me keeps me entertained when I'm stuck waiting somewhere.

- My district hasn't blocked hulu.com yet (it's great to have while I'm grading at school!).

- School ends in 2 weeks!

- Four students stayed late after school today to decorate my classroom because we're throwing a party for the AVID tutors tomorrow.

- Ben loaned me his classroom today so I could teach somewhere warm.

- I had an unexpected 15 minutes in my English class today, so I threw on West Bank Story. They actually enjoyed it!

- Stephenie Meyer's writing is ridiculously addictive.

- Working the concert tonight gave me the chance to read her latest book for almost an hour.

- I get to see Cirque this weekend with Heidi and Brent!

- And, best of all, I get to go to bed now.

Good night, dear readers!

Trouble in His Brain

My cold got bad enough that I took yesterday off. I slept in, read a few books, took care of a few house-buying tasks, and enjoyed not being in charge for a few hours.

When I got back to school today, one of the aides followed me into my room and told me that she had covered one of my classes yesterday.

"Oh, really?" I said as I put my stuff down on my desk. "Did the sub not show up?"

"No, he came," Melodee said. "He just went... well, he went a little crazy."

Melodee went on to explain that the sub apparently went a bit nuts during first period, including swearing at the kids, waving a large stick around at them, and chasing one of them down the hall when Junior ran to the office to get help.

See the kinds of things I miss when I'm out sick?

On the bright side, I am feeling better today (evidenced by the fact that I taught a full day and then worked tech for the film festival, and I'm still awake!). Tomorrow I get to do some psychological clean-up in my first period class, squelch the rumors in the other classes, and work an elementary school concert in the evening. I'd like to complain about the fact that the front office schedules these kinds of events in the auditorium without considering the fact that I always have to work them, but honestly, I'm glad for the money right now. Buying a house is expensive!

My cold has made me turn to comfort food lately - I made creamed tuna on toast for dinner last night and goulash tonight. I was craving magic bars yesterday, too, but found no graham crackers in the pantry. Taking a page from Grandma Cook's cookbook, I substituted Nilla wafers and a few butter cookies I found instead. They weren't the same, but they will do.

I'm deliberately not watching "American Idol" right now. I've never actually watched the show for more than a few minutes; that's about all I can tolerate of it. But it's more important now because this week I'm a Nielson Family! Yup, they offered me $30 to track what I watch on TV. Here for you for free is a run-down of shows I typically watch:

- The Daily Show
- The Colbert Report
- House
- Ugly Betty
- How I Met Your Mother
- The Office
- 30 Rock
- Scrubs
- My Name is Earl
- Gray's Anatomy

Unlike America, I typically eschew reality TV. I think I will watch "So You Think You Can Dance" this summer, though, given how much I enjoyed the MTV marathon this weekend.

I'm curious to hear the report from my 1A tomorrow. The thing is, they're a good class. Yeah, it's a bigger class (40 usually), but they're good kids. I chalk it up to the usual crazies I attract because the district lists the sub job opening under "drama".

Lowdown-Down

I got the yellow house!

To my amazement, they took my first offer with no negotiations - only a change in one of the dates, which did not matter in the least to me. And now I have an enormous stack of papers to wade through and try to make sense out of. This whole house-buying process has created a very steep learning curve for me.

This week, then, has been crammed full. Between teaching, working all of the end-of-the-year concerts and events in the auditorium, and trying to find time to run out to the parking lot to make real estate-related phone calls, it came as little surprise to me when I woke up Saturday morning with a head cold. As Teresa pointed out, it has been a few months, so I due to get sick again.

It timed itself about right - my hope is that by taking it easy all day today, I can get over it quickly. I'm not in a position to miss school next week, so I hope it goes away soon. So I'm watching the "So You Think You Can Dance" marathon on MTV. I'll head out for an hour of church in a few minutes, but after that it's back on the couch for a nap. Stupid immune system.

But yay for the yellow house!

Wait

I put an offer in today.
The leasing agent says he'll pitch it to the owners tomorrow morning.
And so I wait.

Great Big Stuff

A quick update on the events of the weekend:

Thursday night:
Flew to Denver

Friday morning:
Went to Dead Playwrite School District, met Teri the HR Lady, was the victim of two hit-and-run compliments in course of 5 minute conversation with her, signed many papers.

Friday later morning:
Went to my new school, toured the building, met a ton of people, observed a few 8th grade LA classes, constantly had to remind self that there is no dress code to regulate at this school (my teacher-sensors were going nuts!)

Friday noon:
Got a little lost

Friday afternoon:
Met Elizabeth (the awesome realtor), Jeff (the lender) and Rachel (the sister/opinion-giver), signed many papers.

Friday later afternoon:
Toured 9 properties, narrowed it down to two. Also found many that caused us to say "What are they thinking?!" (burgundy carpet - seriously?)

Friday night:
Had Chipotle dinner (they're like Starbucks now - you can find one on almost any corner in Denver), picked up parents, grandma, Andy, and his girlfriend at the airport, all rendezvoused at Rachel and Ben's for dessert and discussions.

Saturday morning:
Met Elizabeth at the two selected properties for Mom, Dad, and Grandma to give opinions. Narrowed it down to one. Tested the drive from that one to school (12 minutes on a Saturday in good weather - not too shabby!).

Saturday noon:
Met up with Rachel, Andy, and Jen for lunch at Garbanzos.

Saturday afternoon:
I called Elizabeth and told her to start the papers to put an offer in on the property (!!!!), then shopping in Boulder. Rachel and I officially switch phones, so I am now a member of the Blackberry world.

Saturday night:
Pizza party at Rachel and Ben's, lots of talking.

Sunday morning:
Mother's Day brunch at the hotel (it was yummy for a buffet!)

Sunday noon:
Returned rental car, flew home.

Since then:
Resumed normal life, constantly obsessing/fretting/calling parents over decision to buy. Much guilt - if I can't do the dishes regularly in my current place, I don't deserve to have a pretty place, etc.http://www.blogger.com/img/gl.link.gif
I'll post more about the home buying situation as it develops. Hopefully it develops. Briefly, I found this charming, lovely condo that I've taken to calling "The Yellow House." English major that I am, it, of course, is a reference to The Yellow Wallpaper but I promise that it is a beautiful shade of yellow and in all likelihood will not cause me to go insane. After all, I didn't see a single creeping lady in either of the walk-throughs.


More news to come!

The Easter Parade

I've been enjoying videos of the Broadway Easter Bonnet Competition on youtube this afternoon while I wait for my realtor to call. (If you don't know, it's an annual competition between the running shows to 1) make a spoof/skit and 2) make some kind of Beach Blanket Babylon-esquq hat. Really, the whole thing is a fundraiser for Broadway Cares.)

Here's some of my favorites:

(Caution - language)

Tradizzle
(I wish I could do a version of Fiddler like this!)


You're a Good Man, Charlie Brown
(terrible sound quality, hilarious Rent reference)


Sweeney Todd meets Queen


John Doyle's Company

Real Big News (Reprise)

I've really, really wanted to blog about something for a long time, but I couldn't because of certain political reasons. However, I've resolved most of those this week, so I will finally post the news.

Bad news first: No Africa for Amanda this summer.

Wait, let me put the emphasis in the right place:
No Africa for Amanda THIS summer.

I will go, oh yes, but it's not to be right now. When my cell phone, car, and elliptical machine all broke in quick succession, I figured the universe was telling me to rethink where my money was going. Especially since plane tickets to Tanzania tripled in price over three week's time. So, instead, I'm bracing myself to grow up a little more and use the money (plus a lot more) as down payment on a place to live.

Yes, I am working on becoming a homeowner (news #2). Which totally freaks out military-brat-me. Fortunately, those nomadic genes are pacified by news #3 (brace yourself):

I'm moving to Denver!

That's the big secret - the one I've been working on since, well, my trip to Portland. Remember that? It wasn't just a pleasure trip - I was scoping out possible places to live, since I knew this would be my last year at Dead President Junior High. I loved Portland, but I also figured that most of the things I love about it are offered in Denver, plus Denver is my sister's hometown and it's within driving distance of my parents. So, Denver won!

I went out there in February and in addition to the fun I noted in my entry on the trip, I also went to a massive job fair. Many interviews and stresses later, and I accepted a teaching post in a tiny district in Denver. Eighth Grade Language Arts, with the option to start a theater program. Hmm... sound familiar? But this school not only has no history of a drama program, they have no performing space whatsoever. No auditorium nor cafetorium; nada. My creativity should be stretched in all kinds of new ways. Fodder for dis blog, right?

So, there's the news. And for those former students of mine who read this (shout out to Sarah - Of course I remember you, and I'm happy you're doing well with your own little family) well, spread the word. Because your last chance to see your old drama teacher on this side of the Rockies will be June 5th. Ish. It may take me a few days past the last day of school to pack up my classroom. So come see me!

Speaking of, if anyone knows where I can get my hands on some boxes, I could use a few.

Okay, a lot.

Seriously, I needs to gets me some boxes.



Holy cow, I'm moving.