Friday, March 15, 2013
Thursday, March 14, 2013
I Have Nice Parents
Not only did they meet me at the airport (against my protestations), but they had Chinatown street-cart lo mein waiting for me at the hotel!
Run Away!
I'm on a flight to DC at the moment, and I'm finding myself restless. I keep fiddling with my iPad, my headphones, my phone and, despite my exhaustion, I can't settle down. It's the first time in four days that I've had a moment with nothing to do. Even while watching the final performance of the musical last night I was grading midterms during all of the full-lighting scenes. At least I was when I wasn't dashing around solving minor crises - microphone issues, an errant curtain, a freshman having an emotional meltdown backstage, etc. You know, the usual.
My drive to the airport didn't help me calm down. Today was slated as a work day at school, and I had been counting on it as such. So when the morning meeting ran 90 minutes longer than expected, I wound up working through lunch to get things done.
I dashed out of the building as soon as possible and raced (within legal speed limits) down the mountain, meeting Rachel briefly to pass on the flowers for her from the cast. I was making better time than I had hoped and even toyed with the idea of hitting a drive-through for a late lunch, but decided to get something at the airport instead.
And then they closed I-70.
Six miles from the airport exit and about 30 feet past a freeway exit, I was stuck in completely stalled traffic. We eventually began to crawl along, but it took me almost 40 minutes to get to the next off-ramp 1.5 miles down the road. I passed the time quite fretfully between mostly-silent swears and speculations as to whether the damage to my car would be worth busting through the chain link fence and over the grassy knoll to the frontage road that is Right. There. (It wasn't.)
I vehicularly sprinted along the side roads upon finally breaking free and headed straight for the closer-but-$4-more-per-day parking area. There I grabbed my bags and hallelujah! discovered a roll I had neglected to eat for breakfast last week. And it wasn't even moldy! Lunch!
A dash across the parking lots and through the terminal, a quick trip through the mostly-empty (hurrah!) security line, and I landed at the gate with just enough time to fill up my water bottle and run to the bathroom.
So! I made it. I posted my grades, casted the Drama 1 play, wrapped the musical, inventoried and sent off the scripts and sheet music, and am off to a weekend in DC with family (the parents as well as Andy and Jenn) and Jason on about 8 hours of sleep in the last two days. Plus? I found an old fruit leather strip in my backpack so dinner's happening too!
Spring Break! Whoo!
I'd flash somebody, but I'm in the seat in the middle and my arms are pinned, so we'll have to settle for a quiet sip of tomato juice instead.
My drive to the airport didn't help me calm down. Today was slated as a work day at school, and I had been counting on it as such. So when the morning meeting ran 90 minutes longer than expected, I wound up working through lunch to get things done.
I dashed out of the building as soon as possible and raced (within legal speed limits) down the mountain, meeting Rachel briefly to pass on the flowers for her from the cast. I was making better time than I had hoped and even toyed with the idea of hitting a drive-through for a late lunch, but decided to get something at the airport instead.
And then they closed I-70.
Six miles from the airport exit and about 30 feet past a freeway exit, I was stuck in completely stalled traffic. We eventually began to crawl along, but it took me almost 40 minutes to get to the next off-ramp 1.5 miles down the road. I passed the time quite fretfully between mostly-silent swears and speculations as to whether the damage to my car would be worth busting through the chain link fence and over the grassy knoll to the frontage road that is Right. There. (It wasn't.)
I vehicularly sprinted along the side roads upon finally breaking free and headed straight for the closer-but-$4-more-per-day parking area. There I grabbed my bags and hallelujah! discovered a roll I had neglected to eat for breakfast last week. And it wasn't even moldy! Lunch!
A dash across the parking lots and through the terminal, a quick trip through the mostly-empty (hurrah!) security line, and I landed at the gate with just enough time to fill up my water bottle and run to the bathroom.
So! I made it. I posted my grades, casted the Drama 1 play, wrapped the musical, inventoried and sent off the scripts and sheet music, and am off to a weekend in DC with family (the parents as well as Andy and Jenn) and Jason on about 8 hours of sleep in the last two days. Plus? I found an old fruit leather strip in my backpack so dinner's happening too!
Spring Break! Whoo!
I'd flash somebody, but I'm in the seat in the middle and my arms are pinned, so we'll have to settle for a quiet sip of tomato juice instead.
Wednesday, March 13, 2013
Hurrah!
Found a late hair appointment! I have papers to grade and packing to do afterwards, but finally getting my bangs out of my eyes and having a reason to stop throwing it back in a ponytail every day will be worth the missing sleep.
Humanities - Bible Myths
We just wrapped up a unit on Christianity in Humanities. The main project for that unit for the students to work in pairs to teach the class one of the main stories of the Bible. This year I required them to film the story as well as to provide the class with a worksheet of some kind to help them remember the primary details. Naturally, they had fun with this assignment. Here's one example:
And here's the worksheet:
John the Baptist Questions
And here's the worksheet:
John the Baptist Questions
1. Who was John the son of?
a. That guy from LMFAO
b. Jesus
c. Zachariah
d. Kermit the Frog
2. What did John enjoy snacking upon?
a. Locusts
b. That guy from LMFAO
c. Flamin’ hot fries
d. Sand
3. Who did John think he should be baptized by?
a. Fergie
b. Mr. Carlstrom*
c. That guy from LMFAO
d. Jesus
4. How did John die?
a. He tried to kill Batman
b. His head was cut off
c. Broderick farted**
d. That guy from LMFAO murdered him with a spork.
5. What was done with John’s head?
a. It was put on a platter
b. That guy from LMFAO made it wiggle, wiggle, wiggle,wiggle, wiggle (yeah)
c. It was eaten by a polar bear
d. It was buried
6. Draw a picture of a chicken, just for the heck of it.
So, how'd you do? 100%?
* Their English teacher
** Yup, same kid.
So, how'd you do? 100%?
* Their English teacher
** Yup, same kid.
Sunday, March 10, 2013
Not Over Yet
Rather than basking in a post-musical glow, I am bracing myself for further work. A snowstorm hit yesterday morning and we wound up postponing the final show until Wednesday night.
It's not too horrible - we'll do a pickup rehearsal after school Tuesday, and the students start spring break on Thursday so it's a non-school-night that doesn't require us to wait a whole week for a weekend. It just means that I'm not done yet, that this week of midterms and quarter grades being due and packing for a trip to DC just got crazier, that I'll have to cancel my hair appointment again.
Sigh. I was really looking forward to that haircut.
On the plus side, the first two evening shows went well. The show really clicked on Friday, enough so that the students noticed even though they couldn't articulate it until I gave them the words. "It feels...different tonight," they said to me when I made my rounds at intermission. "It feels good." It's a shame to have to break their stride as soon as they found it, but I hope that the four day hiatus will not lead to a disappointing final performance.
To my delight my parents came up to visit for the weekend, so I spent the snowy Saturday I should have been getting ready for the show hanging out with them. Not only did they come on Friday, but so did a gaggle of ladies from my ward. Excited by the nostalgic nature of the show, they declared a ladies' night and drove up to Mountain Town to see it and to support me. Between that and my home teachers coming up to see it Thursday night, I enjoyed knowing that I had friends in the audience with me.
It's not too horrible - we'll do a pickup rehearsal after school Tuesday, and the students start spring break on Thursday so it's a non-school-night that doesn't require us to wait a whole week for a weekend. It just means that I'm not done yet, that this week of midterms and quarter grades being due and packing for a trip to DC just got crazier, that I'll have to cancel my hair appointment again.
Sigh. I was really looking forward to that haircut.
On the plus side, the first two evening shows went well. The show really clicked on Friday, enough so that the students noticed even though they couldn't articulate it until I gave them the words. "It feels...different tonight," they said to me when I made my rounds at intermission. "It feels good." It's a shame to have to break their stride as soon as they found it, but I hope that the four day hiatus will not lead to a disappointing final performance.
To my delight my parents came up to visit for the weekend, so I spent the snowy Saturday I should have been getting ready for the show hanging out with them. Not only did they come on Friday, but so did a gaggle of ladies from my ward. Excited by the nostalgic nature of the show, they declared a ladies' night and drove up to Mountain Town to see it and to support me. Between that and my home teachers coming up to see it Thursday night, I enjoyed knowing that I had friends in the audience with me.
Wednesday, March 06, 2013
Middle School Matinee
We used our final dress rehearsal today to do a matinee for the middle school, which, with a row of chairs set up along the back for the teachers, filled the house.
Adding an audience is always fun. I enjoy finally not having to be the one to provide all of the appreciatory audience noises, although I did have to produce more than my fair share of clapping. I skipped the pre-show welcome/instructions, having forgotten that the vast majority of mountain town kids haven't been to a play before, let alone a musical. I had to start the clapping after every song, and even with my prompting only about 1/3 of the kids joined in while the rest kept looking around to see where the crazy person in the audience was.
I do love seeing other people's reactions to a play though. There are so many parts that I forget are funny by the 150th time I've seen them, and the audience never fails to surprise me with their reactions. For example, at the end of the narrator's lengthy wrapping-up speech (which I am usually just glad is over because I've always found it to be awkwardly written) the narrator says, "And even though I've lost touch with so many people over the years, I'll always have the memories here, in my heart." And the audience "awwed"! They "awwed" even more than they did when the main kid finally got his date to the prom!
Middle Schoolers! What sappy emotional beings you are.
Also fun was watching the conception of crushes. From Chris' physical antics to Ezra's facial expressions to Rebecca's dancing to Angelina's prom dress, I could pinpoint the exact moment when pockets of kids in the audience suddenly became devoted fans of certain members of my cast. Do you remember how old and mature and occasionally dreamy those high schoolers were to your seventh-grade self? I do.
Oh yes, the audience was into the show, but they were not as reactive as I would have liked. The teachers on the other hand, they loved the show. Every reference, every song got a strong reaction - guffaws, elbows to the neighbors, strongly confirming head nods, whispers of "It's 'Total Eclipse of the Heart'!" and such. I can't wait to see how it goes when the audience is packed full of people who actually remember the 80's.
Speaking of which:
Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to braid my hair. Even the band dressed up in 80's costumes for the show. Melody, our piano player, came as an outstanding Cyndi Lauper while Jesse rocked the Bruce Springsteen look. By the time the show started, my hair felt entirely too flat. Time to crimp!
Adding an audience is always fun. I enjoy finally not having to be the one to provide all of the appreciatory audience noises, although I did have to produce more than my fair share of clapping. I skipped the pre-show welcome/instructions, having forgotten that the vast majority of mountain town kids haven't been to a play before, let alone a musical. I had to start the clapping after every song, and even with my prompting only about 1/3 of the kids joined in while the rest kept looking around to see where the crazy person in the audience was.
I do love seeing other people's reactions to a play though. There are so many parts that I forget are funny by the 150th time I've seen them, and the audience never fails to surprise me with their reactions. For example, at the end of the narrator's lengthy wrapping-up speech (which I am usually just glad is over because I've always found it to be awkwardly written) the narrator says, "And even though I've lost touch with so many people over the years, I'll always have the memories here, in my heart." And the audience "awwed"! They "awwed" even more than they did when the main kid finally got his date to the prom!
Middle Schoolers! What sappy emotional beings you are.
Also fun was watching the conception of crushes. From Chris' physical antics to Ezra's facial expressions to Rebecca's dancing to Angelina's prom dress, I could pinpoint the exact moment when pockets of kids in the audience suddenly became devoted fans of certain members of my cast. Do you remember how old and mature and occasionally dreamy those high schoolers were to your seventh-grade self? I do.
Oh yes, the audience was into the show, but they were not as reactive as I would have liked. The teachers on the other hand, they loved the show. Every reference, every song got a strong reaction - guffaws, elbows to the neighbors, strongly confirming head nods, whispers of "It's 'Total Eclipse of the Heart'!" and such. I can't wait to see how it goes when the audience is packed full of people who actually remember the 80's.
Speaking of which:
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| Link (via Neatorama) |
Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to braid my hair. Even the band dressed up in 80's costumes for the show. Melody, our piano player, came as an outstanding Cyndi Lauper while Jesse rocked the Bruce Springsteen look. By the time the show started, my hair felt entirely too flat. Time to crimp!
Monday, March 04, 2013
It's Show Week. Can You Tell?
While unpacking this week's clothes at the condo this evening, I caught myself muttering "This set of garments will go downstage, and I'll put the socks stage right...."
Thursday, February 28, 2013
Weird Props
Another show, another strange set of props to make.
No sparkling dog dishes or flashing mirrors this time. Instead, I spent the better part of this evening making a fake fashion catalogue, Photoshopping a student onto a 1980's laser background, and looking up headshots of 80's heartthrobs.
This show has caused more flashbacks than I can count. The fun of stumbling onto long-forgotten relics of my childhood almost makes up for the number of things my born-around-2000 students have never heard of (Atari, DOS, and "Heroes in a half shell - Turtle Power!" for example).
Come to think of it, have I told you what show we're doing? I'm not sure I have. We're doing Back to the 80's: The Totally Awesome Musical. It's your standard jukebox-kinda show - great playlist, weak book, tons of references that Jesse, Rachel, and I have to explain to the students.
Hence the night of 80's hotties. Here are just a few of the photos I'm printing for "Let's Hear It For the Boy":
This should be a fun print job to explain to the front office tomorrow morning.
While it's been a night of Googling images, I'm just relieved I'm not making is a life-sized car out of cardboard. What kind of show requires a full-sized vintage car on stage that actors can dance on? I ask you!
Now if someone will just loan me a 1980's white brick-style cell phone..
No sparkling dog dishes or flashing mirrors this time. Instead, I spent the better part of this evening making a fake fashion catalogue, Photoshopping a student onto a 1980's laser background, and looking up headshots of 80's heartthrobs.
Speaking of which, does anyone else remember this game?
This show has caused more flashbacks than I can count. The fun of stumbling onto long-forgotten relics of my childhood almost makes up for the number of things my born-around-2000 students have never heard of (Atari, DOS, and "Heroes in a half shell - Turtle Power!" for example).
Come to think of it, have I told you what show we're doing? I'm not sure I have. We're doing Back to the 80's: The Totally Awesome Musical. It's your standard jukebox-kinda show - great playlist, weak book, tons of references that Jesse, Rachel, and I have to explain to the students.
Hence the night of 80's hotties. Here are just a few of the photos I'm printing for "Let's Hear It For the Boy":
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Whew! Try to contain yourselves, ladies.
This should be a fun print job to explain to the front office tomorrow morning.
While it's been a night of Googling images, I'm just relieved I'm not making is a life-sized car out of cardboard. What kind of show requires a full-sized vintage car on stage that actors can dance on? I ask you!
Now if someone will just loan me a 1980's white brick-style cell phone..
Sunday, February 24, 2013
I Wove a Rug! (Weaving Project #2)
I figured it would be better to drive up the mountain in the midst of a blizzard in the afternoon than after a blizzard in the pre-dawn hours. It wasn't the worst commute I've made. I didn't need chains, for example. I also figured I was well-prepared for being trapped in my vehicle, should it come to that. I had a week's supply of groceries and clothing in the trunk, as well as a rigid heddle loom.
Despite having minimal free time, I wanted my loom with me up here. So long as there is a chance of a snow day, I want access to my archaic hobbies.
Happily, I had time after dinner to finish my current project. Look! I wove a rug!
The bad news is that now I have to figure out my next project. I have several lovely yarns to choose from:
...but what to do with them?
Despite having minimal free time, I wanted my loom with me up here. So long as there is a chance of a snow day, I want access to my archaic hobbies.
Happily, I had time after dinner to finish my current project. Look! I wove a rug!
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| Seen here, behind the cat. |
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| She was actually very helpful as I removed the waste header. |
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| Here's a better shot. |
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| I like the stripes the variegated yarn created. |
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| I did a basic knotted fringe. This may change, once I see it in the hallway at home. |
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| Here's one more shot, with a cat for |
The bad news is that now I have to figure out my next project. I have several lovely yarns to choose from:
...but what to do with them?
Weekend Trip - Salt Lake City
As noted, I ran away to Salt Lake City for President's Day.
My parents came up from Grand Junction for the weekend and picked me up at the airport late Friday night.
We spent most of Saturday in Salt Lake proper, visiting Andy and his animals and shopping. Sunday Grandma Cook hosted a mini family reunion where I got to meet my four new (well, to me at least) Ukrainian cousins. Monday we met up with Andy and Jenn for breakfast at Finn's before Mom and Dad hit the road and I stopped by to see Janelle and her brood for an all-too-short catch up.
It was a quick trip, and I got home Monday evening with just enough time to throw a week's worth of clothes and the cat in the car and head back up the mountain. Still, I enjoyed seeing the old sights (and new ones - they have a Trader Joe's now on 4th South!), and I hope to be able to get out there again soon to see the sights and people I missed this time around.
My parents came up from Grand Junction for the weekend and picked me up at the airport late Friday night.
We spent most of Saturday in Salt Lake proper, visiting Andy and his animals and shopping. Sunday Grandma Cook hosted a mini family reunion where I got to meet my four new (well, to me at least) Ukrainian cousins. Monday we met up with Andy and Jenn for breakfast at Finn's before Mom and Dad hit the road and I stopped by to see Janelle and her brood for an all-too-short catch up.
It was a quick trip, and I got home Monday evening with just enough time to throw a week's worth of clothes and the cat in the car and head back up the mountain. Still, I enjoyed seeing the old sights (and new ones - they have a Trader Joe's now on 4th South!), and I hope to be able to get out there again soon to see the sights and people I missed this time around.
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| A German Bakery |
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| We enjoyed the pretzel bread. |
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| A corner of Blazing Needles |
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| Andy and Roman |
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| Mom's got a fan club |
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| Lucy begging for more scratches |
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| Breakfast Monday morning at Finn's Cafe |
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| Pyttipanna |
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| A proper Utah lunch at the airport |
Sick Day, Snow Day
It's Sunday. There's a blizzard outside. I'm in Littleton. And I have another cold.
The speech banquet was Friday night, so I ducked out of musical rehearsal a few minutes early to dash over to the other building to set up. It wasn't an extravagant affair by any standards, but it did take a good chunk of planning and organizing to put together. Doing that on top of working on three shows made me quite happy to be able to check it off my list.
The banquet wrapped up at 7:00, and I headed back to the Mountain Town condo and to an early bedtime. Cold #2 of the month had hit earlier that day, and I slept for a solid 13 hours.
Saturday was spent housecleaning the condo, then heading down the mountain. I picked up groceries for the next two weeks as well as some more props and tools for the musical, then headed to my Littleton home to do some laundry.
Rachel's birthday was this week, and while I didn't make it down the mountain to see her on the actual day, I did join her, Ben, and Jack for dinner (and to give her her present) at CPK Saturday night. It was just beginning to snow as we left the restaurant, which left me torn. Do I race home, finish the laundry as quickly as possible, and head back up the mountain in the dark? Or do I stick around for another day to Accomplish Things and hope the storm ends early?
I opted for the latter, popped a muscle-relaxant (not for recreation - my neck has been seized up all week), and slept for another blissful 10 hours.
Upon waking I discovered that church had been cancelled due to the snow. It's been near-white-out conditions all day. While that does make for a cozy sick/snow day (stupid illness), it does not bode well for my getting up the mountain. The forecasts are saying the snow won't stop until sometime after dark. I think at this point it will be better to deal with the roads early tomorrow morning than this afternoon while the snow's still coming down. They're just barely starting to plow my parking lot now, and the trek I made to my garage to retrieve some of the afore-mentioned groceries was perilous enough to keep me from trying to get to work while the snow's still falling.
So, home I sit. The fire's going, but the cat's still up in Mountain Town. Alas. Instead I'll do a bit of work and weaving. At least I have my yarn and loom.
The speech banquet was Friday night, so I ducked out of musical rehearsal a few minutes early to dash over to the other building to set up. It wasn't an extravagant affair by any standards, but it did take a good chunk of planning and organizing to put together. Doing that on top of working on three shows made me quite happy to be able to check it off my list.
The banquet wrapped up at 7:00, and I headed back to the Mountain Town condo and to an early bedtime. Cold #2 of the month had hit earlier that day, and I slept for a solid 13 hours.
Saturday was spent housecleaning the condo, then heading down the mountain. I picked up groceries for the next two weeks as well as some more props and tools for the musical, then headed to my Littleton home to do some laundry.
Rachel's birthday was this week, and while I didn't make it down the mountain to see her on the actual day, I did join her, Ben, and Jack for dinner (and to give her her present) at CPK Saturday night. It was just beginning to snow as we left the restaurant, which left me torn. Do I race home, finish the laundry as quickly as possible, and head back up the mountain in the dark? Or do I stick around for another day to Accomplish Things and hope the storm ends early?
I opted for the latter, popped a muscle-relaxant (not for recreation - my neck has been seized up all week), and slept for another blissful 10 hours.
Upon waking I discovered that church had been cancelled due to the snow. It's been near-white-out conditions all day. While that does make for a cozy sick/snow day (stupid illness), it does not bode well for my getting up the mountain. The forecasts are saying the snow won't stop until sometime after dark. I think at this point it will be better to deal with the roads early tomorrow morning than this afternoon while the snow's still coming down. They're just barely starting to plow my parking lot now, and the trek I made to my garage to retrieve some of the afore-mentioned groceries was perilous enough to keep me from trying to get to work while the snow's still falling.
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| I like how you can see the wind carving the snow, like rock canyons on fast-forward. |
So, home I sit. The fire's going, but the cat's still up in Mountain Town. Alas. Instead I'll do a bit of work and weaving. At least I have my yarn and loom.
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| Sick/Snow Day Breakfast - Mint Tea with La Perruche Sugar and Cranberry-Orange Morning Rounds. |
Friday, February 15, 2013
Run Away!
Much in need of a trip, I'm running away for the weekend. It'll be a quick visit - just enough time to visit family and squeeze in lunch with Janelle, but it's nice to be sitting next to a suitcase with an airport-headache and a delayed flight again!
Painting the Set
For splatter painting, the students were pretty dang good about containing their colors; although one girl did accidentally get me across the face...
Tuesday, February 12, 2013
Fashion Sense
Ann pulled up a chair next to my desk at lunch the other day.
"Can I ask you a personal question?" she asked.
"Sure," I said, wondering what it might be. I'm always game for personal questions.
"Where do you buy your clothes?" She went on to explain that she had a friend who was trying to update her wardrobe, but didn't know where to shop. Ann figured I would have good ideas, since I "always look so good."
That actually took me by surprise - I hardly consider myself a fashion icon. Plus, I was at the end of the laundry cycle that day and was feeling particularly frumpy. However, Ann's question caused me to wonder if I've actually learned how to dress myself.
You see, fashion is not at all instinctual for me. It's taken me years and years to figure out what I think I look good in and what I like. Like learning another language, I figured out colors, lines, propriety, and shapes only by meticulous observation, research, immersion, and a great deal of trial-and-error. I've mixed up my cases and conjugations - wearing a suit to the opera because I felt put together in my new clothes then later realizing that put-together-business is not the same as put-together-opera, for example. I avoided wearing patterns of any kind for years in a virtual silent period, sticking only to the limited range of solid colors that I trusted the most. The day I bought a skirt that went only to my knees took courage tantamount to chiming in on a political discussion.
Upon reflection, I do notice that it's gotten easier. I have enough of the basics under my belt that I don't have to question every single item every time and I'm quicker at figuring out what isn't right. It's easy to lose sight of such growth, and Ann's compliment gave me pause enough to stop measuring myself against native speakers and recognize how much of a sense of fashion I've acquired since I launched this particular field of study.
It also means that when I overhear my students saying to each other as they pass me in the hall, "I like her outfit today. She always looks good," I can accept that it's me (me!) they're talking about and that, in Mountain Town at least, I appear to be fluent.
"Can I ask you a personal question?" she asked.
"Sure," I said, wondering what it might be. I'm always game for personal questions.
"Where do you buy your clothes?" She went on to explain that she had a friend who was trying to update her wardrobe, but didn't know where to shop. Ann figured I would have good ideas, since I "always look so good."
That actually took me by surprise - I hardly consider myself a fashion icon. Plus, I was at the end of the laundry cycle that day and was feeling particularly frumpy. However, Ann's question caused me to wonder if I've actually learned how to dress myself.
You see, fashion is not at all instinctual for me. It's taken me years and years to figure out what I think I look good in and what I like. Like learning another language, I figured out colors, lines, propriety, and shapes only by meticulous observation, research, immersion, and a great deal of trial-and-error. I've mixed up my cases and conjugations - wearing a suit to the opera because I felt put together in my new clothes then later realizing that put-together-business is not the same as put-together-opera, for example. I avoided wearing patterns of any kind for years in a virtual silent period, sticking only to the limited range of solid colors that I trusted the most. The day I bought a skirt that went only to my knees took courage tantamount to chiming in on a political discussion.
Upon reflection, I do notice that it's gotten easier. I have enough of the basics under my belt that I don't have to question every single item every time and I'm quicker at figuring out what isn't right. It's easy to lose sight of such growth, and Ann's compliment gave me pause enough to stop measuring myself against native speakers and recognize how much of a sense of fashion I've acquired since I launched this particular field of study.
It also means that when I overhear my students saying to each other as they pass me in the hall, "I like her outfit today. She always looks good," I can accept that it's me (me!) they're talking about and that, in Mountain Town at least, I appear to be fluent.
Saturday, February 09, 2013
Accomplishments and Astigmatism
With my illness finally on the wane and a somewhat surprisingly free weekend, I seized a day of accomplishment. While I did not get a much-needed hair cut (my free time did not reveal itself early enough to schedule an appointment, so I shall continue to brush my bangs to one side for a few more weeks), I did my taxes and had my eyes checked.
My vision has seemed blurrier lately, and while gesturing during rehearsal the other day I knocked my glasses off and one of the lenses popped out. I snapped it back in place, but noted that my glasses were beginning to show their age. When I realized I had a free afternoon today, I found an optometrist near me with appointments available that I could schedule online.
My prescription actually hasn't changed as much as I had expected, although I am going to try a slightly different fit for my contacts. I declined the optometrist's suggestion that I get dilated for a retina check, explaining that I could just get it done the next time I visited my parents (she seemed a bit skeptical about this plan, perhaps because she doubts my claim to have a retina specialist for a father. After all, if I did have such connections, why would I go a few years without getting dilated? "What's with that?" her cocked eyebrow seemed to say). I did, however, ask if we could check for farsightedness.
"Really?" she said. "I usually don't do that unless you're over 40. How old are you?"
"33," I said. "But I've noticed that I'm having to hold things a little closer to read them, or change the angle."
Actually, it wasn't so much that I noticed it as it was Rachel pointing it out to me a few weeks ago with a laugh about my getting old. I quelled my displeasure at the thought of needing reading glasses already by recalling that I am the Waterhouse sibling without a single gray hair.
And so we checked my close-up vision and discovered that, in fact, it was my astigmatism that is causing the problem. It's in both eyes now, and it's gotten worse.
"I can prescribe you glasses you could wear over your contacts that would correct it," the optometrist offered.
"Which would defeat the point of wearing contacts, right?" I replied. She also offered to fit me for toric lenses, but I didn't like the hard lenses I tried a few years ago when the astigmatism was first diagnosed. No, I'll just continue to live with less-than-perfect vision when I'm wearing contacts, and get myself a new pair of glasses to wear a little more often. Perhaps from here.
Lest you think I was all business this Saturday, though, I'll also reassure you that I attended to three other much-neglected tasks: I wove 10 inches on my green rug, and I gave Natasha some serious lap-time while reading the seventh Harry Potter book. Which I read in one day.
You recall how I tend to binge on books after a forced abstention? Parent-Teacher conferences + musical rehearsals + a school internet connection that's so slow that I have been spending most of the minutes I have to spare at home downloading everything I could possibly need or want to refer to in upcoming lessons for off-line use. I have read for pleasure too little the past few weeks, so I finished my recent return to the Rowling series by reading the last (784 page) book in a day.
And now I feel the usual post-major-series melancholia.
I also feel as though I accomplished what I needed to today.
My vision has seemed blurrier lately, and while gesturing during rehearsal the other day I knocked my glasses off and one of the lenses popped out. I snapped it back in place, but noted that my glasses were beginning to show their age. When I realized I had a free afternoon today, I found an optometrist near me with appointments available that I could schedule online.
My prescription actually hasn't changed as much as I had expected, although I am going to try a slightly different fit for my contacts. I declined the optometrist's suggestion that I get dilated for a retina check, explaining that I could just get it done the next time I visited my parents (she seemed a bit skeptical about this plan, perhaps because she doubts my claim to have a retina specialist for a father. After all, if I did have such connections, why would I go a few years without getting dilated? "What's with that?" her cocked eyebrow seemed to say). I did, however, ask if we could check for farsightedness.
"Really?" she said. "I usually don't do that unless you're over 40. How old are you?"
"33," I said. "But I've noticed that I'm having to hold things a little closer to read them, or change the angle."
Actually, it wasn't so much that I noticed it as it was Rachel pointing it out to me a few weeks ago with a laugh about my getting old. I quelled my displeasure at the thought of needing reading glasses already by recalling that I am the Waterhouse sibling without a single gray hair.
And so we checked my close-up vision and discovered that, in fact, it was my astigmatism that is causing the problem. It's in both eyes now, and it's gotten worse.
"I can prescribe you glasses you could wear over your contacts that would correct it," the optometrist offered.
"Which would defeat the point of wearing contacts, right?" I replied. She also offered to fit me for toric lenses, but I didn't like the hard lenses I tried a few years ago when the astigmatism was first diagnosed. No, I'll just continue to live with less-than-perfect vision when I'm wearing contacts, and get myself a new pair of glasses to wear a little more often. Perhaps from here.
Lest you think I was all business this Saturday, though, I'll also reassure you that I attended to three other much-neglected tasks: I wove 10 inches on my green rug, and I gave Natasha some serious lap-time while reading the seventh Harry Potter book. Which I read in one day.
You recall how I tend to binge on books after a forced abstention? Parent-Teacher conferences + musical rehearsals + a school internet connection that's so slow that I have been spending most of the minutes I have to spare at home downloading everything I could possibly need or want to refer to in upcoming lessons for off-line use. I have read for pleasure too little the past few weeks, so I finished my recent return to the Rowling series by reading the last (784 page) book in a day.
And now I feel the usual post-major-series melancholia.
I also feel as though I accomplished what I needed to today.
Monday, February 04, 2013
Poetic Illness
As one would expect after being cooped up with germy teenagers for days on end, I have developed an illness.
Rather than an ordinary cold, this one had fun novel symptoms like blurry vision and my throat swelling nearly shut. By Thursday I dismissed it from being the bronchitis Rachel was battling becausesibling rivalry never dies I hadn't seen Rachel in a while and instead concluded that it was probably strep throat.
When I looked up the symptoms of strep throat on line; you know, for the fun of it; I discovered that some strains of strep throat can cause a rash on the neck and chest. And do you know what that rash is? Scarlet fever!
Hot diggety. I'm far more interested in being sick if I have a chance of getting one of the most poetical diseases. When it comes to literary illness, scarlet fever is right up there with consumption (if you're dying) and cholera (if everyone else around you is dying). If I have to miss a day of work and be little more than a lump on a log for my parents' weekend visit, at least it's for a poetical disease. I crawled into bed late Thursday night after a field trip, imagining somewhat-feverishly how much more awesome I be if I went blind like Mary Ingalls. Yes, she used her blindness to help her teach blind students, but my blindness would also have been caused by students! Martyrdom win!
But then I check my newsfeed this morning and discovered that modern research is messing with my childhood again.
While a decrease in my overall odds of going blind is probably a good thing, it did make my illness a little harder to bear. Ah well. At least it killed Beth. I still have that going for me.
Plus this illness makes my voice sound like Eartha Kitt in my ears. And that's nothing to sneeze at either.
Do you know what it's like to kissssss such smoldering lipssssss?
Do you want to find ow-out?
Rather than an ordinary cold, this one had fun novel symptoms like blurry vision and my throat swelling nearly shut. By Thursday I dismissed it from being the bronchitis Rachel was battling because
When I looked up the symptoms of strep throat on line; you know, for the fun of it; I discovered that some strains of strep throat can cause a rash on the neck and chest. And do you know what that rash is? Scarlet fever!
Hot diggety. I'm far more interested in being sick if I have a chance of getting one of the most poetical diseases. When it comes to literary illness, scarlet fever is right up there with consumption (if you're dying) and cholera (if everyone else around you is dying). If I have to miss a day of work and be little more than a lump on a log for my parents' weekend visit, at least it's for a poetical disease. I crawled into bed late Thursday night after a field trip, imagining somewhat-feverishly how much more awesome I be if I went blind like Mary Ingalls. Yes, she used her blindness to help her teach blind students, but my blindness would also have been caused by students! Martyrdom win!
But then I check my newsfeed this morning and discovered that modern research is messing with my childhood again.
While a decrease in my overall odds of going blind is probably a good thing, it did make my illness a little harder to bear. Ah well. At least it killed Beth. I still have that going for me.
Plus this illness makes my voice sound like Eartha Kitt in my ears. And that's nothing to sneeze at either.
Do you know what it's like to kissssss such smoldering lipssssss?
Do you want to find ow-out?
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