...what in your little brain told you that was a good idea?

So besides being a manic depressive OCD almost 30 female, I also have a genetic condition. Which I will not go into. Needless to say it requires a very expensive treatment, which I receive every two weeks. Which I have not received for over six months for reasons beyond my control. It's starting to get to me. Without treatment, toxins build up and my bones hurt and I get really tired. Like bone weary exhaustion tired. It's starting to get to me. I have to miss days of school because I hurt so much, it's just not possible to go in. Yesterday was one of these days. I called in a sub like a good teacher and left instructions. I come back to school today, refreshed somewhat and ready to clean up the mess that inevitably follows a substitute. Little did I know what was waiting for me.

The minions of Hades took over my classroom. Hell broke loose, chaos ensued, the seven horsemen of the Apocalypse stopped in for a chat and there was screaming and gnashing of teeth.

Let me break this down. It would be a hilarious story if it wasn't so god damn appalling. Let me just say this, this aint the old days, folks. Things are not how they used to be. Well, for me they are but I digress.

First period, my students ask me how I found "Odysseus" to sub the classroom and if I planned it on purpose. Not a good sign. One kid follows this by saying," Well, Odysseus if he came home from his adventures and didnt eat for a few years or became a middle age hippy." Greeeaaat.

Look at my back counter. Hmmm. Don't remember those big paint splotches being there. Look at my desk. Hmmm. Don't remember my planet mobile being that tangled. Pick up the paint containers. Hmmm. Don't remember them being so empty.

Channel One starts. "Hey, Ms. H, did you hear what happened in your seventh period?" "Well, they made a mess, I can see that." "Oh, your sub was weird though. He sent like half the class to the office." Exaggeration, one or two kids per period. Still one or two kids more per period than I ever have sent to the office. I say, "Oh, I see. I'll have to see if the sub left me a note."

Go next door. "Hey next door teacher, whats up? Did the sub leave me a note or anything?" "Did you hear what happened in your seventh period? You missed all the fun." It's one thing when you get asked that question from a student but when it comes from your next door teacher, it's something else entirely. "Oh yeah? What happened?" "That one kid you have, D?" That's almost all I need to hear. I can see the snowball start to roll. I feel fear clench my guts and my skin goes cold. "Yeeessss?" I answer.

"He started a paint war. I think the VP wants to talk to you and tell you what all happened"

Oh fantastic.

And it only gets better.

Over the course of the day and through my many conversations about the topic, this is what I learn.

1. A gets paint she is not supposed and starts to paint her pants.
2. D wants to help. A chases him with paint.
3. D chases back.
4. D spills paint on the floor.
5. D starts sliding around in paint on the floor.
6. Sub tells A and D to knock it off.
7. Other students join in the fun.
8. Sub is freaking out. Tries to grab paint from D.
9. D lifts up paint tray and dumps contents onto own shirt. Splatters paint on sub in process.
10. Angry sub says, "Here, let me help you" picks up handful of paint and slaps the paint onto D's chest. Then D's back.
11. Other student and D run to office.

"Miss H, it was the messiest I have ever seen a classroom. There was paint smeared on the floor from the door to the front of the room. All over the back counter, the sinks, the desks and the kids involved. I came in and made them stop what they were doing and clean the room up. We had the janitor bring in a mop. I'm sorry, we tried to get it all cleaned up for you," says Mr. VP.

12. D gets arrested. Sent to Juvy.
13. Sub walks out. Quits. Or will be fired. Never wants to see this school again.
14. D may not ever come back to our school.

I am DONE with paint.

Seventh period gets a lovely lecture in which I wax poetic about how disappointed I am. A raises hand to ask for the hall pass during said diatribe. Big mistake. No more Miss Nice H. I got angry for the first time this whole year. My class has never been so quiet. I have never been so strict. Or mean. It's a side of me I'm going to be exploring a little bit in the days to come. I have never been so livid with any student or class in my life. I have never wanted to scream and yell more than I wanted to today. I did not scream and yell, in case you were wondering, I just used a very harsh tone. I literally, seriously had to hold back my instinct to start stomping on the floor all tantrum-like. But I did, I was very composed. I HATE that like 3 kids ruin that class for the 20 nice, sweet kids who just want to hang out and learn art. That group of kids will no longer run my classroom. I am done with trying to cajole and threaten and ask nicely. It's time for the big guns.

...spelling tests

I teach ninth grade. Ninth graders are supposed to know how to spell, right? Wrong! My students are always surprised when I announce at the beginning of the year that we will have weekly spelling tests. I tell them,"You all are bomb at texting and Iming but I'm not even going to lie, you suck at spelling." So I give standardized words for the first few weeks until they have written a few things in class. Then I start giving words I notice are misspelled a lot and I take a few from a list of most commonly misspelled words. I make a list of 100 words and then use the same 100 words all year long. The goal is that by the end of the year they are experts at those 100 words. Mostly, it's words like receive, beginning, receipt, sandwich. Words they have probably already had but now can't spell to save their lives. I totally do the elementary thing too and have a chart where they can get stars for spelling tests. And since I don't want to leave out the kids who don't test well, they can rewrite the words they miss 10 times correctly and they get the point. So every kid has a chance to get a gold star. And gold stars are like, well, gold. You wouldn't think ninth graders would get so excited about stickers but they go crazy for them. And I never use candy, only cheap little toys. Candy turns nice, sweet children into little greedy, piggy monsters. So I use cheap little toys like sticky spiders and little cans of play doh. And it works! They go nuts for toys. Well, so do I so I understand. I would rather have a spiffy little dollar toy than a sucker any day. Anyway, the point of this is that I give the spelling tests on Fridays and after the test, we correct the last week's test. So this last Friday, I am spelling the last week's words and I have learned that when I spell the words, I need to say each letter very slowly or I will be asked ten times to repeat it. So I am saying each letter in a steady, slow rhythm like so, "Cemetary. C------E------M-----E------T------A------R--------Y." And the kids say, "Ms. H you sound like a robot. Say it with enthusiasm, like when you read to us." So I start saying it with enthusiasm and they tell me I sound like the guy on Price is Right. But at least it made them laught. I always do voices when I read and I tell you what, there is never one kid asleep during the reading. It works. What can I say. And I preface the voices too. Example, "Now Elpenor, the wimpy sailor is going to give Ulysses a prophecy, so he sounds like this..." and then proceed in a wimpy-ish voice.

I decided long ago that junior high is pretty much a miserable experience for everyone. It was for me. Nothing will change that. So if I can make them laugh or at least make the experience more bearable then I'm doing ok. Plus, I just really do love teaching. I hate my class sizes and I hate my pay cuts and the overbearing parents and the little "itchy butt" students, as hedgetoad calls them, and the grading and the messes but overall, I got a pretty good gig going on.

...rum, coke and a warble

I started a business called Hello Darling on etsy. It's fun but so far, not very profitable.

I am having the best year of school yet. Without Dead Lobster supporting my teaching habit.

A moved in and I am blissfully happy, as trite as that may be. An October wedding is in the works. The future is exciting.

The sky is vast.

The world is wide and full.

I can't stop making pretty things.

Beautiful music has changed my life.

...music like this

music like this makes the world seem more interesting and exotic than it really is. it is ethereal and fleeting. in it, i can see stars twinkle and flurries drift and scatter. i sense the warm pulse at the center throb, crossing paths with the cold and nothing. a yin and yang of sorts. everything becomes soft and wavering, no longer delineated by sharp edges and hard lines. winks and nods are given in a warm flush of blood and eyelashes against soft cheeks. it's a promise, fingers crossed behind your back. sly as a hummingbird, quick as a lightning bolt. a pink smudge of clouds gives a slight indication. the city has begun to dream and settles with a soft sigh and the cadence of breath that only comes with a sound sleep. creaking joints and crossbeams relax, give way, settle with a muffled crack, pop. Ghostly withered leaves like age spotted, fragile hands spiral and dip, fluttering in an infinite dance of sky, earth, breath, and space. sometimes you can even see the stars during the day.