I found out yesterday that my old friend, Reed, died last Wednesday. The funeral is today. I was deciding last night if I should go and then I started thinking about Reed and the memories I have. Then it was a no brainer. I don't get to have those times with him anymore. This is the last time. And at age 30, it's scary. I had a friend who died when I was 16 and a former boss when I was 25 and my great grandma when I was 22 and my grandpa when I was 11. But none of those felt completely real though, they were people I was not super close to or was too young to appreciate. But Reed was a for real friend. We went to bars together and talked on the phone together. He was only 35. That's so young. Not very far away from what I am right now. Is this the time that this starts happening? This losing friends thing? You know how you start having to go to a lot of weddings around age 24 and then a lot of baby showers around age 27...is 30 when the funerals start? I hope not. Another old friend from junior high, Nate Pieratt, died last year. It feels kind of unreal, like they are playing a joke on us. Like later we'll laugh and say, "Haha! Remember that time when you pretended like you were dead and we all thought we'd never see you again but then you really weren't dead and we were so relieved. Yeah, that was pretty funny." I can't quite wrap my head around the reality that it's not going to happen like that.
I met Reed when I very first moved to Salt Lake. He hired me at Red Lobster, actually. He was one of my first friends in SLC. I knew we would get along famously when I borrowed some keys from him to get more bar towels on one of my first days working there. I brought his keys back and held them out and said," So, is this where I keep your keys hostage in return for sexual favors?" Reed laughed and said, "We are going to be friends. You are a bitch after my own heart." And it was true! We had the best time whenever we got to work together. He was my boss so technically he wasn't allowed to be my friend, too. But it didn't matter. He would meet us at Bongo for drinks after work, after waiting until we were gone and then going a different direction. We would drink wine and play Ticket to Ride at Ryan's house. I remember drinking so much wine one night that neither of us could drive home so all three of us crammed into Ryan's bed and spent the night making jokes about how interesting it was that a straight girl and two gay guys were sharing a bed. I vividly remember a 2 am phone call. "M, wake up, come out with us. We have whiskey. You're coming." "I'm in bed, you silly. In my pajamas, in bed, asleep, have been for a while." "Nope, you're getting out of bed, putting on hot clothes and coming out with us. Right now. See you in half an hour." Click. And I was there in half an hour. I still have no idea how he did it. I do not rouse from comfortable sleep easily.
Reed and I have not hung out for a few years. Life got in the way, I guess. I know Reed has had some hard times recently. No need for details. I'm not even sure of them myself. And deep down, I worry that this was not entirely an accident. If that is the case, I hope he is happy now, I hope he found the peace that he was looking for. If it was just a freak accident one cold night, then I hope he is warm now. I hope he is in a happier place. And either way, I hope he knows that we will miss him. I hope he knows that I will always be grateful that I got the chance to spend some time with him and that he brightened my life for a little while. I wish I could have been there more or fixed everything for him but I hope he knows that I feel blessed to have been able to call him friend. Rest in peace, my dear Reed.
2.01.2011
10.25.2010
the worst member of the Donner party
So I decided to write this particular entry about my weird food habits. I have so many strange habits that food habits have become their own category. Hey, I am a unique snowflake. Don't judge. Haha.
1. I don't like egg whites. But I really like the yolk. And especially that part right in between, where the yolk is kind of cooked but not all the way. This is of course A. when I eat eggs voluntarily, which is rarely and B. when they have been cooked properly so there's no little runny gooey part of the white left. Then, I like to cut the white off and just use the yolk part. And I do not like scrambled eggs. Or omelettes. Gross.
2. If the food is questionable in anyway, I won't eat it. Like it might smell funny but I can't tell if it's just me or not. If I question it for a moment in my mind, I lose my appetite for it. For example, I used to like chicken burritos from Taco Bell but once my brother said, "Yeah, I like those too, even thought you know that meat is like the cheapest part of the chicken, like the asshole or something." Now, whenever I think of chicken meat from Taco Bell, I think of chicken assholes and then I want to throw up a little bit in my mouth. And now, I can't eat chicken from Taco Bell.
3. I can't eat two sweet things at the same time. I thought everyone was like this until recently. Then, the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I had never understood why people would eat candy and drink soda at the same time. It's like they cancel each other out in my mouth and become roadkill. Or something else that I imagine would taste disgusting. So, coffee and dessert for me is coffee THEN dessert. Because I like my coffee sweet. Of course.
4. I avoid raw chicken. And reheated chicken. Reheated meat in general. Also, raw meat on the whole kind of grosses me out. Raw chicken is germy pink goo. Like mutant slime. And meat is only good when it's fresh cooked. Reheated meat reminds me of leather. And I've never once thought about eating leather. I would have been the worst member of the Donner party. Or the first one eaten.
1. I don't like egg whites. But I really like the yolk. And especially that part right in between, where the yolk is kind of cooked but not all the way. This is of course A. when I eat eggs voluntarily, which is rarely and B. when they have been cooked properly so there's no little runny gooey part of the white left. Then, I like to cut the white off and just use the yolk part. And I do not like scrambled eggs. Or omelettes. Gross.
2. If the food is questionable in anyway, I won't eat it. Like it might smell funny but I can't tell if it's just me or not. If I question it for a moment in my mind, I lose my appetite for it. For example, I used to like chicken burritos from Taco Bell but once my brother said, "Yeah, I like those too, even thought you know that meat is like the cheapest part of the chicken, like the asshole or something." Now, whenever I think of chicken meat from Taco Bell, I think of chicken assholes and then I want to throw up a little bit in my mouth. And now, I can't eat chicken from Taco Bell.
3. I can't eat two sweet things at the same time. I thought everyone was like this until recently. Then, the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I had never understood why people would eat candy and drink soda at the same time. It's like they cancel each other out in my mouth and become roadkill. Or something else that I imagine would taste disgusting. So, coffee and dessert for me is coffee THEN dessert. Because I like my coffee sweet. Of course.
4. I avoid raw chicken. And reheated chicken. Reheated meat in general. Also, raw meat on the whole kind of grosses me out. Raw chicken is germy pink goo. Like mutant slime. And meat is only good when it's fresh cooked. Reheated meat reminds me of leather. And I've never once thought about eating leather. I would have been the worst member of the Donner party. Or the first one eaten.
10.18.2010
more bad habits....or fears rather
I guess these aren't really all bad habits. There's mostly fears sprinkled in and quirks and pet peeves. Just a little of everything really. Guess it means I will need to do a things I love post afterward to even it out.
4. Seems pretty self explanatory but nighttime. I was going to say forests at nighttime but then I realized that I don't really like very many nighttime related things. I hate forests at nighttime. I hate empty houses at nighttime. I hate creepy alleyways at nighttime. Scuba diving in the middle of the ocean in the middle of the night would be my worst nightmare. I would seriously not take a million dollars to do it. I would rather be poverty stricken my whole life than accept a million dollars to be in the ocean in the darkness. Maybe I meant the word "darkness"? Because actually I really love my house at nighttime when all the candles are lit and it's cozy and warm. But I do not like going outside when it's dark. So...I don't mind the nighttime when I am in the light! See how I did that.....deductive reasoning....BLAM! Ninja.
5. Speaking of ninjas, I don't really like to handle sharp objects. Like knives. I do it all the time but I don't feel totally comfortable with it. I just know that any second, it will slip and happen to land in my kidney or something. And GARBAGE DISPOSALS!!! Oh God, no way. I will not stick my hand down in that murky, razor protected portal of Hades. Dude, I saw that movie....Final Destination. I think my brain collapsed from the stress of that moment in the movie when that dude is digging around in the garbage disposal and there's a side view closeup of the switch and the music and GAAAAAHHHHHH!!! I can't handle it. Once, there was a little knife stuck in my garbage disposal.....you can imagine the trauma I have experienced. It's amazing I'm still functional.
6. And speaking of things that make me uncomfortable, I have an alarmingly obsessive fear of raw wood. The feel of it. I don't like touching it and it never comes anywhere near my mouth. Like toothpicks and popsic....I'm sorry, I need a moment....le sticks. I am cringing as I type this. The MENTION of popsicle sticks is enough to induce tremors. And no, I do not eat popsicles. Ever. Or use toothpicks. Or chopsticks. Or even suckers, because the paper stick is kind of the same as the wooden stick and now you see just how irrational I have become. It's quite sad really. Painted wood is ok, polished wood if ok, really smooth wood is ok.....raw wood is a big hell to the no...NO. There are times when the accidental touch of raw wood has incapacitated me. Scraping wood on my teeth would downright kill me, I think. I have never met anyone with the same affliction. Everyone else seems to be able to use wooden coffee stirrers to their little hearts content. Imagine the purgatory I go through each year when my school's (wonderful and amazing) PTA brings popsicles to a faculty meeting. 40 people sucking on wooden sticks. It's pretty devastating. I have no idea where this comes from, I have never experienced actual trauma related to wooden sticks...as far as I know anyway. But I don't remember it ever not being this way.
I'm feeling a bit peckish.....probably because I just spent half an hour thinking about wooden popsicle sticks. I just imagined an even worse worst nightmare. Being in the ocean in the middle of the night with a raft made of popsicle sticks.
4. Seems pretty self explanatory but nighttime. I was going to say forests at nighttime but then I realized that I don't really like very many nighttime related things. I hate forests at nighttime. I hate empty houses at nighttime. I hate creepy alleyways at nighttime. Scuba diving in the middle of the ocean in the middle of the night would be my worst nightmare. I would seriously not take a million dollars to do it. I would rather be poverty stricken my whole life than accept a million dollars to be in the ocean in the darkness. Maybe I meant the word "darkness"? Because actually I really love my house at nighttime when all the candles are lit and it's cozy and warm. But I do not like going outside when it's dark. So...I don't mind the nighttime when I am in the light! See how I did that.....deductive reasoning....BLAM! Ninja.
5. Speaking of ninjas, I don't really like to handle sharp objects. Like knives. I do it all the time but I don't feel totally comfortable with it. I just know that any second, it will slip and happen to land in my kidney or something. And GARBAGE DISPOSALS!!! Oh God, no way. I will not stick my hand down in that murky, razor protected portal of Hades. Dude, I saw that movie....Final Destination. I think my brain collapsed from the stress of that moment in the movie when that dude is digging around in the garbage disposal and there's a side view closeup of the switch and the music and GAAAAAHHHHHH!!! I can't handle it. Once, there was a little knife stuck in my garbage disposal.....you can imagine the trauma I have experienced. It's amazing I'm still functional.
6. And speaking of things that make me uncomfortable, I have an alarmingly obsessive fear of raw wood. The feel of it. I don't like touching it and it never comes anywhere near my mouth. Like toothpicks and popsic....I'm sorry, I need a moment....le sticks. I am cringing as I type this. The MENTION of popsicle sticks is enough to induce tremors. And no, I do not eat popsicles. Ever. Or use toothpicks. Or chopsticks. Or even suckers, because the paper stick is kind of the same as the wooden stick and now you see just how irrational I have become. It's quite sad really. Painted wood is ok, polished wood if ok, really smooth wood is ok.....raw wood is a big hell to the no...NO. There are times when the accidental touch of raw wood has incapacitated me. Scraping wood on my teeth would downright kill me, I think. I have never met anyone with the same affliction. Everyone else seems to be able to use wooden coffee stirrers to their little hearts content. Imagine the purgatory I go through each year when my school's (wonderful and amazing) PTA brings popsicles to a faculty meeting. 40 people sucking on wooden sticks. It's pretty devastating. I have no idea where this comes from, I have never experienced actual trauma related to wooden sticks...as far as I know anyway. But I don't remember it ever not being this way.
I'm feeling a bit peckish.....probably because I just spent half an hour thinking about wooden popsicle sticks. I just imagined an even worse worst nightmare. Being in the ocean in the middle of the night with a raft made of popsicle sticks.
10.14.2010
habits, hobbies and minor annoyances
I'm kind of the queen of bad habits. In general. I have so many bad habits, I've lost count. Gross ones, unhealthy ones, unnecessary ones, imagined ones, weird ones....etcetera. So I figured it might be kind of funny to write about them today.
1. I bite my nails. Gross. I don't remember when it started and I've made my peace with the fact that it may never stop. I remember reading Berenstein Bears and the Bad Habit when I was in fifth grade and trying to stop then. But dimes just weren't a motivator for me. Quarters maybe would have worked but dimes....h to the no. I don't even stop to pick up a dime on the street. Ok, maybe I do, but that's because I teach school. Get what I'm saying? But PENNIES, no way. I digress. It didn't help that I was trying to play Pavlov to myself AND that I was like, 11. I tried, once again to stop during my first year of teaching. I got embarrassed and stopped for about two weeks. And all I did for two weeks was think about biting my nails. I would look at my long, beautiful nails like a fiend. "I just want to bite it sooo bad. Just one nibble. Just one." I haven't tried to stop since then.
2. I am terrified of everything that has to do with dark, unseen places. Like deep water, caves, underground tunnels, haunted houses, etc. I am the biggest wimp I know. I won't go in water unless I can see the bottom and know that there are no little critters or surprises waiting for me. I won't go in dark places if I can help it. I'll wait outside thankyouverymuch. Haunted houses, forget it. My boyfriend has been saying for two years that he's going to get me to go to a really scary haunted house, to which my response is,"And then how would you feel after I shat myself?" I think I can pinpoint this one to a few different places. First, swimming in a lake when I was 8 and a fish brushing my leg and me screaming bloody murder as I tried to run through the water back to shore. Alas, Jesus I am not, and ended up with a mouthful of lake water, which didn't scare me as much as the possibility of that water having bugs in it. And being 11 and going on a field trip to a castle and my class being shut in a dark dungeon for a minute so we could see what it felt like. Bitch, I have a good imagination, I don't need it to actually happen to me to know that it sucks. Or my church when I was 10, which took place in two buildings set across a giant graveyard from each other and me being asked to carry a message to the OTHER BUILDING, at NIGHT, through a DARK GRAVEYARD. I swear to God, I saw that angel statue move fo real. Which leads me to...
3. Scary movies. I DO NOT watch them. I cried during Land Before Time. I'm a sensitive soul. That part in the Secret Garden, where the main girl hears Colin crying in the nighttime before she knows it's Colin, ruined my sleep for days. Harry Potter probably would have horrified me when I was a kid. Hey, don't judge, there's some scary shit going down at Hogwarts. I WILL make an exception for zombie movies....IF they are cheesy AND someone else is present. I guess both of these also explain why I don't like to be the leader or the last one in a line of people. The leader always has to actually see the danger and the last person is always the first to be snatched away. I'm perfectly fine with being the padding in the middle.
I guess I'm more neurotic than I thought. This might take awhile. I will write about the next 3 tomorrow.
1. I bite my nails. Gross. I don't remember when it started and I've made my peace with the fact that it may never stop. I remember reading Berenstein Bears and the Bad Habit when I was in fifth grade and trying to stop then. But dimes just weren't a motivator for me. Quarters maybe would have worked but dimes....h to the no. I don't even stop to pick up a dime on the street. Ok, maybe I do, but that's because I teach school. Get what I'm saying? But PENNIES, no way. I digress. It didn't help that I was trying to play Pavlov to myself AND that I was like, 11. I tried, once again to stop during my first year of teaching. I got embarrassed and stopped for about two weeks. And all I did for two weeks was think about biting my nails. I would look at my long, beautiful nails like a fiend. "I just want to bite it sooo bad. Just one nibble. Just one." I haven't tried to stop since then.
2. I am terrified of everything that has to do with dark, unseen places. Like deep water, caves, underground tunnels, haunted houses, etc. I am the biggest wimp I know. I won't go in water unless I can see the bottom and know that there are no little critters or surprises waiting for me. I won't go in dark places if I can help it. I'll wait outside thankyouverymuch. Haunted houses, forget it. My boyfriend has been saying for two years that he's going to get me to go to a really scary haunted house, to which my response is,"And then how would you feel after I shat myself?" I think I can pinpoint this one to a few different places. First, swimming in a lake when I was 8 and a fish brushing my leg and me screaming bloody murder as I tried to run through the water back to shore. Alas, Jesus I am not, and ended up with a mouthful of lake water, which didn't scare me as much as the possibility of that water having bugs in it. And being 11 and going on a field trip to a castle and my class being shut in a dark dungeon for a minute so we could see what it felt like. Bitch, I have a good imagination, I don't need it to actually happen to me to know that it sucks. Or my church when I was 10, which took place in two buildings set across a giant graveyard from each other and me being asked to carry a message to the OTHER BUILDING, at NIGHT, through a DARK GRAVEYARD. I swear to God, I saw that angel statue move fo real. Which leads me to...
3. Scary movies. I DO NOT watch them. I cried during Land Before Time. I'm a sensitive soul. That part in the Secret Garden, where the main girl hears Colin crying in the nighttime before she knows it's Colin, ruined my sleep for days. Harry Potter probably would have horrified me when I was a kid. Hey, don't judge, there's some scary shit going down at Hogwarts. I WILL make an exception for zombie movies....IF they are cheesy AND someone else is present. I guess both of these also explain why I don't like to be the leader or the last one in a line of people. The leader always has to actually see the danger and the last person is always the first to be snatched away. I'm perfectly fine with being the padding in the middle.
I guess I'm more neurotic than I thought. This might take awhile. I will write about the next 3 tomorrow.
10.05.2010
it snot funny
By the way, we are seven weeks into the school year and I am already in my third round of sickness. Or should I say, snotness. I love the beginning of the school year. Fresh, smiling, new germs....i mean students eagerly awaiting your first word(it's only the first one they care about, after two, they're gone forever). I seriously did not know it was humanly possible to produce this much snot. I feel like I should start wearing some kind of snot shield around. I'm scared to death of accidentally shooting a snot rocket in front of my class. I cannot think of any worse purgatorial punishment than launching accidental snot rockets for all eternity. Well, maybe I can. Laundry comes to mind. Besides the point. Or SNARTING! OMG, I did just think of something worse than snot rockets. I would forever be known as THAT teacher, the one who sneezed and accidentally ripped one in front of a silent classroom. Oh God. What have I done? I will now have to clench for as long as I live. Baby got back ya'll. I'm not entirely sure how I got from snot to Sir Mix-a-Lot, but girlfriend(or bf, whatevs), here we are. What I'm trying to say is I'm sick. And I work in a petri dish. Send thoughts of chicken soup and Sprite my way. Thanks.
first day of the fall
Favorite Student Quote of the Day: "I can only play video games for like an hour, cause then I get bored."
So I'm trying a few new things this year. I actually have a class website now. I'm doing weekly spelling tests and journaling. I feel like I've really changed as a teacher over the past few years. Well, besides the fact that it was not so long ago that I was a terrified rookie. I still feel like I'm new in so many ways but I also feel more and more comfortable in what I'm doing, each day even. It's like a perfect balance right now. I know enough to feel confident and sure of myself but I still don't know enough that it's interesting. It's like each year, I take a new step. In one way, this kind of scares me, because I don't ever want to not feel interested. I know that happens. I've seen it. In teachers I had when I was a student and in colleagues. It's not that they have nothing left to learn, it's that they were no longer interested in learning it. If that ever starts to happen to me, then it's time to move on to something else. Bur right now, I love what I'm doing. I have amazing days and I have horrible, shitty days. I have days that make me question why I ever decided to start the Teaching Program and then I have days that make me marvel at how lucky it was that I did. I constantly wonder if I'm doing a good enough job. Or if I'm teaching the right thing. In the right way. Or at the right time. I am always pondering new ideas or solutions or things to say or do or teach. But not enough, that it has taken over my life. I'm not gonna lie, I'm no Erin Gruwell. I'm never going to work two extra jobs buy classroom supplies, but I'm not bad either, I don't think. I take pride in my work and I enjoy what I do. I care very deeply about my students and about being the best teacher I can be for them.
That said, I am a very fun-loving person. I like to describe myself as big, loud, and red. I don't really know why. But my personality totally comes through in my teaching. Therefore, I'm not afraid to poke a little fun at the realm of public education, myself included. I like to see the lighter side of things. It makes life more fun, ya know. So pardon if I don't write, speak, or sound like a "proper" English teacher. I know my subject. I'm good at it. But I'm not stuffy. And somehow, it works (the Fine Arts minor probably helped a bit as well). So basically, I always end up having a good time. And sometimes, my students do too.
So I'm trying a few new things this year. I actually have a class website now. I'm doing weekly spelling tests and journaling. I feel like I've really changed as a teacher over the past few years. Well, besides the fact that it was not so long ago that I was a terrified rookie. I still feel like I'm new in so many ways but I also feel more and more comfortable in what I'm doing, each day even. It's like a perfect balance right now. I know enough to feel confident and sure of myself but I still don't know enough that it's interesting. It's like each year, I take a new step. In one way, this kind of scares me, because I don't ever want to not feel interested. I know that happens. I've seen it. In teachers I had when I was a student and in colleagues. It's not that they have nothing left to learn, it's that they were no longer interested in learning it. If that ever starts to happen to me, then it's time to move on to something else. Bur right now, I love what I'm doing. I have amazing days and I have horrible, shitty days. I have days that make me question why I ever decided to start the Teaching Program and then I have days that make me marvel at how lucky it was that I did. I constantly wonder if I'm doing a good enough job. Or if I'm teaching the right thing. In the right way. Or at the right time. I am always pondering new ideas or solutions or things to say or do or teach. But not enough, that it has taken over my life. I'm not gonna lie, I'm no Erin Gruwell. I'm never going to work two extra jobs buy classroom supplies, but I'm not bad either, I don't think. I take pride in my work and I enjoy what I do. I care very deeply about my students and about being the best teacher I can be for them.
That said, I am a very fun-loving person. I like to describe myself as big, loud, and red. I don't really know why. But my personality totally comes through in my teaching. Therefore, I'm not afraid to poke a little fun at the realm of public education, myself included. I like to see the lighter side of things. It makes life more fun, ya know. So pardon if I don't write, speak, or sound like a "proper" English teacher. I know my subject. I'm good at it. But I'm not stuffy. And somehow, it works (the Fine Arts minor probably helped a bit as well). So basically, I always end up having a good time. And sometimes, my students do too.
4.07.2010
2.23.2010
S L to the Cizzle yo!
As we made our way back from my brother's wedding in California an crested the hills out of western Utah, I saw an amazing sight. The lights of Salt Lake City burning dully through the brown smudge of smog. Ah, it's good to be home. I was so inspired by this sight that I wrote a new song. It goes to the tune of Oklahoma, like from the musical, not the football team. "SAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAALT Lake City, where the beer is only half as strong, and the lake sure stinks and the smog, it reeks, but I still like to call it HOOOOOME!"
2.17.2010
!!! or You all heard it here first
So we leave in about five hours to drive to California for my brother's wedding. I don't know what time it is there but it is about 11 pm here. Five hours from now is about 3am. 3 AM?!?! I don't even know what 3 am looks like anymore. Gone are the days of my carefree youth and five hour sleep cycle. If I only sleep five hours now, I am one grumpy teacher and grumpy teacher ain't pretty. I'm just not a young pup anymore. If I stay up too late, I pay for it. So now that I cant stay up late anymore, I should be able to get up earlier right? That's how getting older works isn't it? WRONG! So apparently, getting older for me means just getting lazier. And more tired. This does not seem fair to me. I think that if I have to give up my late nights, I should at least gain early mornings. It's only even. But nooooo. I go to bed at a reasonable hour like the good responsible person that I am* and I get my eight blissful hours of sleep. Yet, when the alarm goes off, it might as well be a surprise test of the emergency broadcast system. SURPRISE!!!! I AM BLARING HORRIBLE COMPUTER GENERATED RINGTONES INTO YOUR EAR! Nothing. I might as well be hibernating. I can remember my mom puling the covers off of me and threatening cold water on the first day of junior high. What kid sleeps through the first day of junior high? Unfortunately, they learn soon enough that they will wish they slept through junior high. Or there are those who WILL actually sleep through junior high. But I digress. So, now, I have this after FIVE hours no FOUR hours of sleep. This ain't gonna be pretty folks.
*My students and I have long agreed that modern socety is in desperate need of a sarcastic mark. Like a question mark but for when you are being a smart ass. W have even had discussion about what said mark would look like. How, in this age of facebook and sliced Wonder bread do we not have a sarcastic mark? Tell me I'm wrong. Because I'm not and you know it. Let me show you what I mean. Example text conversation:
You: So, I think we should train for a marathon.
Me: Yeah, ok
You: Really?
Me: No
Now, if after the yeah, ok I could just insert a little sarcasm mark, I would have eliminated two whole unnecessary texts thus saving me about 4.2 seconds of precious time. Do you see the importance of this? Amazing what you can do with 4.2 seconds. You could take like 3 steps or fart or even spit out your toothpaste. I'm telling you, this idea is going to make me famous. It will be the MsH mark. (I don't know ho to pronounce that either but we will make do kind of like that band called "!!!")
*My students and I have long agreed that modern socety is in desperate need of a sarcastic mark. Like a question mark but for when you are being a smart ass. W have even had discussion about what said mark would look like. How, in this age of facebook and sliced Wonder bread do we not have a sarcastic mark? Tell me I'm wrong. Because I'm not and you know it. Let me show you what I mean. Example text conversation:
You: So, I think we should train for a marathon.
Me: Yeah, ok
You: Really?
Me: No
Now, if after the yeah, ok I could just insert a little sarcasm mark, I would have eliminated two whole unnecessary texts thus saving me about 4.2 seconds of precious time. Do you see the importance of this? Amazing what you can do with 4.2 seconds. You could take like 3 steps or fart or even spit out your toothpaste. I'm telling you, this idea is going to make me famous. It will be the MsH mark. (I don't know ho to pronounce that either but we will make do kind of like that band called "!!!")
2.16.2010
Saturn and your anus or Turning 29
Oh yeah, I almost forgot. The purpose of posting today was to make a list. That was before I discovered the joy of tangents. I'm fond of lists. I like to make them and then immediately forget about them. This list is my 28 things to do before I turn 29. So, I have heard that 29 is the worst year of your life. From several sources. Supposedly Saturn comes out of your anus or something and I go crazy(er). Hence, the list. And it has a theme. It is titled, "28 Supposedly Semi Sane Things To Do Before I Go Crazy at 29." I have a month so I had to keep it simple. You understand.
1. Paint a wall in my new house bright green.
2. Find five more letterboxes.
3. Take a nap.
4. Clean my classroom.
5. Write a letter to someone who lives in a different state.
6. Paint a big painting.
Ummmmmm.......I'm running out of ideas. 28 is a lot of shit to do. And I'm not that motivated I guess. Maybe my list should be six things to do before I turn 29.
7. Go to Lava Hot Springs for a good sulfur soak.
8. Buy more plants for my classroom.
9. Hmmm......make my bed.
10. Sew a pillow
11. Get a massage
12. Write a haiku (I'm getting desperate here, can you tell?)
13. Read a whole book
14. Update my class blog
15. Find a photobooth and take some photobooth pictures
16. Have a housewarming/dinner party
17. 80s night at Area 51....throwback ya'll
18. Clean my car
19. Find something new and awesome to collect that no one else is collecting like vintage irons or something weird
Oh my God, there's still like 47 to go! I'm running out of ideas!
20. Eat at the Hi Hat Diner in Sunset
21. Make a pie from scratch
22. Eat some fruits and veggies(and Doritos or Sunny D do not count!)
23. Figure out how to teach Latin and Greek roots without putting my students to sleep
24. Light a candle at the Mary Tree
25. Draw the letter R in my alphabet series
I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. Damn! 29 sucks already!!!!! It's so many numbers! What am I going to do when I'm like 65? I can't think of that many things to do!
26. Get my drivers license back(apparently I am a failure at life and forgot to show proof of insurance in 2008 so now the state of utah is trying to steal my soul or something)
27. Do another dance in the woods and take a Polaroid of it
This is the last one, that means it has to be good. I don't work well under pressure. Actually, I work better under pressure that's why I never finish anything unless it has to be done RIGHT NOW but still, my point remains. I don't know if I can handle this much expectation. What to do? I know!.....
28. Watch the three original Star Wars movies!
This, my friends, is a bomb(as in THE bomb, or BOB-omb if you will, not dynamite) list. I do believe documentation is in order.
1. Paint a wall in my new house bright green.
2. Find five more letterboxes.
3. Take a nap.
4. Clean my classroom.
5. Write a letter to someone who lives in a different state.
6. Paint a big painting.
Ummmmmm.......I'm running out of ideas. 28 is a lot of shit to do. And I'm not that motivated I guess. Maybe my list should be six things to do before I turn 29.
7. Go to Lava Hot Springs for a good sulfur soak.
8. Buy more plants for my classroom.
9. Hmmm......make my bed.
10. Sew a pillow
11. Get a massage
12. Write a haiku (I'm getting desperate here, can you tell?)
13. Read a whole book
14. Update my class blog
15. Find a photobooth and take some photobooth pictures
16. Have a housewarming/dinner party
17. 80s night at Area 51....throwback ya'll
18. Clean my car
19. Find something new and awesome to collect that no one else is collecting like vintage irons or something weird
Oh my God, there's still like 47 to go! I'm running out of ideas!
20. Eat at the Hi Hat Diner in Sunset
21. Make a pie from scratch
22. Eat some fruits and veggies(and Doritos or Sunny D do not count!)
23. Figure out how to teach Latin and Greek roots without putting my students to sleep
24. Light a candle at the Mary Tree
25. Draw the letter R in my alphabet series
I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. Damn! 29 sucks already!!!!! It's so many numbers! What am I going to do when I'm like 65? I can't think of that many things to do!
26. Get my drivers license back(apparently I am a failure at life and forgot to show proof of insurance in 2008 so now the state of utah is trying to steal my soul or something)
27. Do another dance in the woods and take a Polaroid of it
This is the last one, that means it has to be good. I don't work well under pressure. Actually, I work better under pressure that's why I never finish anything unless it has to be done RIGHT NOW but still, my point remains. I don't know if I can handle this much expectation. What to do? I know!.....
28. Watch the three original Star Wars movies!
This, my friends, is a bomb(as in THE bomb, or BOB-omb if you will, not dynamite) list. I do believe documentation is in order.
...my weiner dog has a napoleon complex
Seriously. That's all I have to say about that.
Second. We are moving into a new house. About 500 dollars cheaper. See the house that's kind of dumpy with the random refrigerator in the yard? That's our new place. It's a fixer upper. And I gotta admit, I'm digging the idea of a challenge as far as house decorating goes. I have a cool place right now. It was cool before I got to it so there was not much I could do. It was a bit intimidating. That's why two years later, I still have not finished the painting I started in the hallway. But this new one....it is not cool to begin with. Well, not cool in the whoa, you live in an old warehouse with brick walls and rafters kind of cool. But a unique, has potential, smells like chihuahuas and old cigarettes kind of cool. It's something I can work with. I however am not a patient person and want to get in there and get started right now. But I have to wait until the end of the month, which is the one time each 30 days the good ol government blesses me with my daily bread. Which means my current residence looks a bit like the electronics and toy section of the thrift store right now. And I don't mean that in a good way.
And I started letterboxing. Which is awesome. Because I feel like a pirate hunting for treasure. Minus the wooden leg and eminent danger of course. When I found the very first letterbox we went looking for, I literally busted into dance moves in the middle of the woods. Is there anything better than dancing so hard you bonk your head on a tree limb and see stars for 3 weeks? No, there's not. Believe me, I know. So now I have a new hobby. Like I needed another one. Plus, surviving the wilderness of Wheeler Historic Farm is good training for when the zombies attack(see previous post).
Sometimes I wish my life was more interesting. So I would have something to blog about. Is that bad? Some days I wish I could log onto blogspot an write something like, "OMG I totally backflipped into a Hummer while doing wheelies on my Vespa today." Or something similar. But no. Instead I log on to write things like, "Today, I went over a scene summary of Romeo and Juliet and we decided to make the play into a Mob story like the Sopranos and gave all the characters Mob names like Jules and Benny and Mr. T." Well, maybe that's kind of interesting. But you know what I mean. Sometimes I wonder if I need a theme. Like a "Eat a different candy bar everyday and blog about it" kind of theme. Oh wait, I got it.....drink a different kind of beer everyday and blog about it. Now, that's something I can get into. The problem is, I know me. Most of the time. And I don't do good with goal setting and remembering and being organized and stuff. Hell, I'm lucky if I remember to brush my teeth twice a day. (Hey, I never said I wasn't disgusting). And makeup? Everyday? Right.....yeah that happens. HAHA!
Do you remember the teacher who rushed in at the last bell with a giant cup of sugared up coffee and wonky hair while digging around in her purse for the classroom key? The one who hauls a giant bag of grading home every night only to lug the exact same bag of UNgraded stuff back to school the next day? Yep, that's me. Hi, nice to meet you. That bag I mentioned is sitting on the floor right next to my couch as I type. I am in charge of the future. Don't you feel secure in the knowledge that I have the task of molding young minds? Sometimes I feel more like a mad scientist than a teacher. "Today, I'm going to give you this ball of clay, some sharp objects, a Magic marker and a copy of I Am The Cheese. Let's see what happens!" I think my favorite teacher phrase is, "Think of it as a creative challenge." Which is basically my way of saying, "I don't know what to tell you and have no answer for your question." or "I'm typing an unnecessary email, leave me alone." The great thing is, though, that I'm not just an English teacher, I'm an Art teacher. And everyone knows that art teachers can get away with whatever they want. "Hmmm, bright red hair, tattoos, vacant expression......you must be..... the art teacher." I gotta tell ya, I feel for you math teachers, you just don't get the freedom of....ahem....expression.....that us art teachers get. It's actually quite liberating. I can get away with moving my desks around every week. I'm the art teacher. "Oh, it's ok officer, I'm allowed to drive on whichever side of the street I want, I'm an art teacher." I am allowed to hang fifty million paper hearts from the ceiling. I'm an art teacher. I'm allowed to wear brown shoes with a black dress. I'm an art teacher. I can drink coffee all day and eat Cinnamon Toast Crunch out of a Ziploc baggie while listening to Blonde Redhead. I'm an art teacher. Wow, you know, I just realized how good I have it.
Second. We are moving into a new house. About 500 dollars cheaper. See the house that's kind of dumpy with the random refrigerator in the yard? That's our new place. It's a fixer upper. And I gotta admit, I'm digging the idea of a challenge as far as house decorating goes. I have a cool place right now. It was cool before I got to it so there was not much I could do. It was a bit intimidating. That's why two years later, I still have not finished the painting I started in the hallway. But this new one....it is not cool to begin with. Well, not cool in the whoa, you live in an old warehouse with brick walls and rafters kind of cool. But a unique, has potential, smells like chihuahuas and old cigarettes kind of cool. It's something I can work with. I however am not a patient person and want to get in there and get started right now. But I have to wait until the end of the month, which is the one time each 30 days the good ol government blesses me with my daily bread. Which means my current residence looks a bit like the electronics and toy section of the thrift store right now. And I don't mean that in a good way.
And I started letterboxing. Which is awesome. Because I feel like a pirate hunting for treasure. Minus the wooden leg and eminent danger of course. When I found the very first letterbox we went looking for, I literally busted into dance moves in the middle of the woods. Is there anything better than dancing so hard you bonk your head on a tree limb and see stars for 3 weeks? No, there's not. Believe me, I know. So now I have a new hobby. Like I needed another one. Plus, surviving the wilderness of Wheeler Historic Farm is good training for when the zombies attack(see previous post).
Sometimes I wish my life was more interesting. So I would have something to blog about. Is that bad? Some days I wish I could log onto blogspot an write something like, "OMG I totally backflipped into a Hummer while doing wheelies on my Vespa today." Or something similar. But no. Instead I log on to write things like, "Today, I went over a scene summary of Romeo and Juliet and we decided to make the play into a Mob story like the Sopranos and gave all the characters Mob names like Jules and Benny and Mr. T." Well, maybe that's kind of interesting. But you know what I mean. Sometimes I wonder if I need a theme. Like a "Eat a different candy bar everyday and blog about it" kind of theme. Oh wait, I got it.....drink a different kind of beer everyday and blog about it. Now, that's something I can get into. The problem is, I know me. Most of the time. And I don't do good with goal setting and remembering and being organized and stuff. Hell, I'm lucky if I remember to brush my teeth twice a day. (Hey, I never said I wasn't disgusting). And makeup? Everyday? Right.....yeah that happens. HAHA!
Do you remember the teacher who rushed in at the last bell with a giant cup of sugared up coffee and wonky hair while digging around in her purse for the classroom key? The one who hauls a giant bag of grading home every night only to lug the exact same bag of UNgraded stuff back to school the next day? Yep, that's me. Hi, nice to meet you. That bag I mentioned is sitting on the floor right next to my couch as I type. I am in charge of the future. Don't you feel secure in the knowledge that I have the task of molding young minds? Sometimes I feel more like a mad scientist than a teacher. "Today, I'm going to give you this ball of clay, some sharp objects, a Magic marker and a copy of I Am The Cheese. Let's see what happens!" I think my favorite teacher phrase is, "Think of it as a creative challenge." Which is basically my way of saying, "I don't know what to tell you and have no answer for your question." or "I'm typing an unnecessary email, leave me alone." The great thing is, though, that I'm not just an English teacher, I'm an Art teacher. And everyone knows that art teachers can get away with whatever they want. "Hmmm, bright red hair, tattoos, vacant expression......you must be..... the art teacher." I gotta tell ya, I feel for you math teachers, you just don't get the freedom of....ahem....expression.....that us art teachers get. It's actually quite liberating. I can get away with moving my desks around every week. I'm the art teacher. "Oh, it's ok officer, I'm allowed to drive on whichever side of the street I want, I'm an art teacher." I am allowed to hang fifty million paper hearts from the ceiling. I'm an art teacher. I'm allowed to wear brown shoes with a black dress. I'm an art teacher. I can drink coffee all day and eat Cinnamon Toast Crunch out of a Ziploc baggie while listening to Blonde Redhead. I'm an art teacher. Wow, you know, I just realized how good I have it.
1.08.2010
the coming zombie invasion
Every once in a while, in our mailboxes at school, we receive a catalog of classes offered at the community center. There's different things like knitting, powerpoint, cooking, etc. I always look at this catalog and think, you know I should really take advantage of this chance. The classes don't cost much, around 50 bucks and I could learn some new things. And then I forget about it.
Today we received a new catalog and our gym teacher pointed out that there were some new classes. "Ghosthunting." "Developing your sixth sense." And my personal favorite, "Surviving the Coming Zombie Invasion."
!!!!!
OMG, is that not the coolest thing in the whole world? My community offers a class on surviving a zombie invasion. YES!!!
This is amazing. This told me two things:
1. That I seriously must take advantage of this class. Who knows when this opportunity may arise again? If ever? I mean, if only for the experience and the ability to say that I have passed a course in zombie survival. I want to put that shit on my resume.
and 2. Who teaches these classes? Professors? Or normal janes like me? So me, a normal jane, could teach a class at the community center? Make a few extra bucks, get to teach a niche class of something I totally love? Oh hellz yeah.
This requires further investigation. I will keep you posted on the updates.
In other class news, I signed up for Style School. Which is taught by two bloggers I like to follow. The tutorials all look super cute. I'm excited to learn new things and adapt them and such. Sometimes I think it's funny that I love cute stuff so much. I am a huge fan of sparkles and paint and thread and Sharpies and glitter and cute little cartoon food items.........and zombies. And beer and hotdogs from the gas station and James Bond movies and Stephen King. It's an anomaly, I tell you. I have yet to figure it out myself.
I am big, loud and obnoxious, while wearing a cute headband.
Today we received a new catalog and our gym teacher pointed out that there were some new classes. "Ghosthunting." "Developing your sixth sense." And my personal favorite, "Surviving the Coming Zombie Invasion."
!!!!!
OMG, is that not the coolest thing in the whole world? My community offers a class on surviving a zombie invasion. YES!!!
This is amazing. This told me two things:
1. That I seriously must take advantage of this class. Who knows when this opportunity may arise again? If ever? I mean, if only for the experience and the ability to say that I have passed a course in zombie survival. I want to put that shit on my resume.
and 2. Who teaches these classes? Professors? Or normal janes like me? So me, a normal jane, could teach a class at the community center? Make a few extra bucks, get to teach a niche class of something I totally love? Oh hellz yeah.
This requires further investigation. I will keep you posted on the updates.
In other class news, I signed up for Style School. Which is taught by two bloggers I like to follow. The tutorials all look super cute. I'm excited to learn new things and adapt them and such. Sometimes I think it's funny that I love cute stuff so much. I am a huge fan of sparkles and paint and thread and Sharpies and glitter and cute little cartoon food items.........and zombies. And beer and hotdogs from the gas station and James Bond movies and Stephen King. It's an anomaly, I tell you. I have yet to figure it out myself.
I am big, loud and obnoxious, while wearing a cute headband.
1.03.2010
you know...
i like blogging. blogging is good for me. it's keeping up with blogging that i have a problem with. i read my favorite blogs every day, it's something i look forward to. but writing in my own is not something i am good at remembering to do. i guess i just get so caught up in stuff that i don't stop to write. not that it matters. my blog isn't for anything. it's not a blog about accomplishing a goal or anything. it's just random useless stuff. so maybe what i really like is the IDEA of a blog. a really cool one with witty, funny entries and nuggets of creative wisdom and pretty pictures and great ideas. i know what one problem is. i have no natural affinity for picture taking. good blogs seem to be as much about pictures as it is about writing. but i have never been the type of person who remembers to take pictures. i know people who carry their camera around in their pocket or bag just in case. i'm not even sure i know where my camera is. and sometimes i will think 'you know, i should bring my camera, just in case.' then it sits in my bag unused until i finally clean out my purse a month later and set it back on my dresser. i just never remember it.
anyway, here's to writing.
and a new year! i know that the new year is not technically a fresh start but it feels like it should be and that's almost just as good. because, really, who gets real fresh starts anyway? besides babies? whether you get out of jail or move to a new state or start a career or get out of rehab or whatever, you're still you. you still have the same ideas and thoughts and behaviors. maybe you learned your lesson, maybe you didn't. either way, it's never a for real fresh start. but seriously i think a fake fresh start feels pretty much as good as a real one would. therefore, i like new years. i don't really make specific resolutions. more like.....decisions. in my head. thought decisions. that go something like this. 'this year i need to try to be a more organized person.' that's it. no specifics. that way i don't get bogged down in the details. i leave wiggle room.
today i really cleaned the middle level of my house. i mean really cleaned. like went through all the cabinets and the bookcase. everything. it feels fantastic. like a faux fresh start should.
anyway, here's to writing.
and a new year! i know that the new year is not technically a fresh start but it feels like it should be and that's almost just as good. because, really, who gets real fresh starts anyway? besides babies? whether you get out of jail or move to a new state or start a career or get out of rehab or whatever, you're still you. you still have the same ideas and thoughts and behaviors. maybe you learned your lesson, maybe you didn't. either way, it's never a for real fresh start. but seriously i think a fake fresh start feels pretty much as good as a real one would. therefore, i like new years. i don't really make specific resolutions. more like.....decisions. in my head. thought decisions. that go something like this. 'this year i need to try to be a more organized person.' that's it. no specifics. that way i don't get bogged down in the details. i leave wiggle room.
today i really cleaned the middle level of my house. i mean really cleaned. like went through all the cabinets and the bookcase. everything. it feels fantastic. like a faux fresh start should.
11.10.2009
...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.
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.
11.07.2009
...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.
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.
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.
7.19.2009
....about summertime in the city
Yeah yeah, where do I start? Summer is almost half over. It's been great albeit very poor. I have started some paintings I have always wondered if I was able to transfer my style and designs to a canvas and paint. Turns out I can. Kind of well actually. It's exciting. Aaron helped me set up a painting desk in the bedroom. I look forward to it. Drawing is my usual forte, but the whole painting thing is pretty fun, I'm not gonna lie. Eventually I would like to get a decent digital camera so I can start posting some blogspot pictures of cool stuff. Like al the stars that are hanging from my ceiling. Or the painting I did above my bed. Eh. That takes money, which is always in short supply.
Speaking of money: Guess who paid off their IKEA card! One card down, three more to go. I am trying to concentrate on one at a time, starting with the smallest, so I don't over stretch myself. So IKEA down, that leaves Mastercard, Capital One, Kohl's, and Visa. Mastercard is the next one to go. I have already cut all these cards up so I cannot add to them, only subtract. There is only 300 left on Mastercard so that is the next one to go.
Aaron and I have decided that we need to be more healthy. We have both gained at least 20 pounds since we first met. So we are not eating out. And we are taking Max for long walks very other day. Today's goal is twice around Liberty Park. Max is a fatty pants dog so he needs the exercise too. A fatty pants but a CUTIE pants. He is giving me puppy dog eyes as I write this. If only I could get him to be nice to people and other dogs. For some reason he looks at little kids and thinks, "Intruder!!! Must bark profusely and look threatening" I am trying to socialize him, keeping him on a short leash, holding him when people pet him. I have been reading stuff online about socializing dogs and I am taking the advice but he is just making such slow progress. Well I guess slow progress is better than no progress.
Speaking of Aaron....LOVE him. We want to get married and have a family and buy a house together. We want to get a Great Dane and build a treehouse in the backyard. It's a dream for the future. Now is not the time, for several reasons but it's fun to plan ahead. I have never loved someone so much. I have never been so excited for the future with someone. He told me he wants to grow old with me. We go together so well. Like pieces of a puzzle. It's so much fun. And can I just say how hot he looks when he plays the drums. Whew.
So Jen had this super brilliant idea a few months ago. This idea was to have a ladies brunch the first Sunday of every month. We have met for three months now. I look forward to it every month. One new person has come each month so now it's up to six of us. We always meet somewhere and eat lunch and plan to hang out for a few hours which usually turns into like 5. And 5 still doesn't feel long enough sometimes. I love it! We have always been friends but more of a disparate group of friends. We rarely rarely ever saw everyone all together at the same time. But now we know that once a month at least we will. And I think it is making us better friends. I love my girls! Yesterday I went to Michelle's after work for her birthday and watched Twilight, wait let me clarify, mocked Twilight. And seriously, Massimo and Mariana are the cutest kids ever in the whole world. I just want to squeeze their cheeks. And I hope when I have kids, I can be a mother like Michelle. I admire her devotion and love and nurturing and good humor. Plus, I have known Michelle for like 7 years so I know how bad ass she is too. And today....Harry Potter! Which reminds me, I need to give Michelle her birthday present today. I forgot it last night.
And I have to admit, I'm pretty excited for school this year. PS I am now a Level II teacher. Which basically means I'm legit. Yeah. And I got an award of Excellence for my PRAXIS II test. Because I'm bomb at bullshitting. Each year I get better and I'm excited to try out some new ideas this year. I'm in the best time of my life, seriously. I love my job and have a steady paycheck, I adore my boyfriend, I have awesome friends, a rad dog, a cool house. Compared to a year ago, I'm like a different person. I wouldn't trade it for anything. I worked hard and put up with a lot of shitznit to get here. And it's only going to get better because I am a stronger person now.
Speaking of money: Guess who paid off their IKEA card! One card down, three more to go. I am trying to concentrate on one at a time, starting with the smallest, so I don't over stretch myself. So IKEA down, that leaves Mastercard, Capital One, Kohl's, and Visa. Mastercard is the next one to go. I have already cut all these cards up so I cannot add to them, only subtract. There is only 300 left on Mastercard so that is the next one to go.
Aaron and I have decided that we need to be more healthy. We have both gained at least 20 pounds since we first met. So we are not eating out. And we are taking Max for long walks very other day. Today's goal is twice around Liberty Park. Max is a fatty pants dog so he needs the exercise too. A fatty pants but a CUTIE pants. He is giving me puppy dog eyes as I write this. If only I could get him to be nice to people and other dogs. For some reason he looks at little kids and thinks, "Intruder!!! Must bark profusely and look threatening" I am trying to socialize him, keeping him on a short leash, holding him when people pet him. I have been reading stuff online about socializing dogs and I am taking the advice but he is just making such slow progress. Well I guess slow progress is better than no progress.
Speaking of Aaron....LOVE him. We want to get married and have a family and buy a house together. We want to get a Great Dane and build a treehouse in the backyard. It's a dream for the future. Now is not the time, for several reasons but it's fun to plan ahead. I have never loved someone so much. I have never been so excited for the future with someone. He told me he wants to grow old with me. We go together so well. Like pieces of a puzzle. It's so much fun. And can I just say how hot he looks when he plays the drums. Whew.
So Jen had this super brilliant idea a few months ago. This idea was to have a ladies brunch the first Sunday of every month. We have met for three months now. I look forward to it every month. One new person has come each month so now it's up to six of us. We always meet somewhere and eat lunch and plan to hang out for a few hours which usually turns into like 5. And 5 still doesn't feel long enough sometimes. I love it! We have always been friends but more of a disparate group of friends. We rarely rarely ever saw everyone all together at the same time. But now we know that once a month at least we will. And I think it is making us better friends. I love my girls! Yesterday I went to Michelle's after work for her birthday and watched Twilight, wait let me clarify, mocked Twilight. And seriously, Massimo and Mariana are the cutest kids ever in the whole world. I just want to squeeze their cheeks. And I hope when I have kids, I can be a mother like Michelle. I admire her devotion and love and nurturing and good humor. Plus, I have known Michelle for like 7 years so I know how bad ass she is too. And today....Harry Potter! Which reminds me, I need to give Michelle her birthday present today. I forgot it last night.
And I have to admit, I'm pretty excited for school this year. PS I am now a Level II teacher. Which basically means I'm legit. Yeah. And I got an award of Excellence for my PRAXIS II test. Because I'm bomb at bullshitting. Each year I get better and I'm excited to try out some new ideas this year. I'm in the best time of my life, seriously. I love my job and have a steady paycheck, I adore my boyfriend, I have awesome friends, a rad dog, a cool house. Compared to a year ago, I'm like a different person. I wouldn't trade it for anything. I worked hard and put up with a lot of shitznit to get here. And it's only going to get better because I am a stronger person now.
5.29.2009
5.26.2009
...about recently
Yay for summer!
7 more days of school. Then I will be a Level II teacher which means I successfully completed three years of teaching. Weird. It doesn't feel like it's been that long. I had to take the PRAXIS II test recently. It was a really hard, really long, really expensive test but guess who rocked it! That's right! I needed to get a 160 to pass and I got a 189. Above average in every category. I'm so relieved, I stressed about that test.
So, now that I have almost finished with three years of teaching junior high, what have I learned? Hmmm. What haven't I learned should be the question. I have learned that the most important trait a teacher can possess is a sense of humor. The second most important would be adaptability. I have learned that grading papers sucks but making art with seventh graders rocks. I have learned that you never get used to being to school by 7:30 and that it is very difficult to keep a classroom well organized and clean. I have learned that ninth graders can be much smarter than adults and much sillier and more ridiculous than children and sometimes both at the same time. I have learned how to answer the exact same question in 16 different ways and that no matter how many times you remind them about a due date, someone will forget. "My printer doesn't work" is the new "my dog ate my homework." And even if you write the page number on the board, someone will ask, "What page are we on?" I have learned that sometimes I love being a teacher and sometimes I hate being a teacher and sometimes both on the same day. I have seen the same inappropriate picture drawn 700 different ways and heard every insult I ever thought was possible. This gig is by far the most interesting, most challenging I have ever endeavored in my life. But I like it. I think I will stick around.
Aaron and I will be together 4 months at the end of this month. I love him with all my heart. I love everything about him. Even the things that drive me crazy. I have never felt so loved and appreciated and happy with someone in my whole life. I am crazy about that boy.
7 more days of school. Then I will be a Level II teacher which means I successfully completed three years of teaching. Weird. It doesn't feel like it's been that long. I had to take the PRAXIS II test recently. It was a really hard, really long, really expensive test but guess who rocked it! That's right! I needed to get a 160 to pass and I got a 189. Above average in every category. I'm so relieved, I stressed about that test.
So, now that I have almost finished with three years of teaching junior high, what have I learned? Hmmm. What haven't I learned should be the question. I have learned that the most important trait a teacher can possess is a sense of humor. The second most important would be adaptability. I have learned that grading papers sucks but making art with seventh graders rocks. I have learned that you never get used to being to school by 7:30 and that it is very difficult to keep a classroom well organized and clean. I have learned that ninth graders can be much smarter than adults and much sillier and more ridiculous than children and sometimes both at the same time. I have learned how to answer the exact same question in 16 different ways and that no matter how many times you remind them about a due date, someone will forget. "My printer doesn't work" is the new "my dog ate my homework." And even if you write the page number on the board, someone will ask, "What page are we on?" I have learned that sometimes I love being a teacher and sometimes I hate being a teacher and sometimes both on the same day. I have seen the same inappropriate picture drawn 700 different ways and heard every insult I ever thought was possible. This gig is by far the most interesting, most challenging I have ever endeavored in my life. But I like it. I think I will stick around.
Aaron and I will be together 4 months at the end of this month. I love him with all my heart. I love everything about him. Even the things that drive me crazy. I have never felt so loved and appreciated and happy with someone in my whole life. I am crazy about that boy.
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