So, I haven't written on this blog in a while, so I'm not sure I can claim to have a tone for this page. But if I did, I would say the average tone is cavalier, and a little trite. But I want to break from this a little and share two instances of extreme grace that I experienced this past week.
Monday morning on the way to work, I called my parents just to tell them about the developments regarding the pipes leaking in my basement (another story, and not a HUGELY interesting one). While talking with them, I ran straight through a red light. Didn't even see it. But the cop that was waiting at the corner sure did, and pulled me over butt quickly. I hung up with my parents immediately and pulled out my license and registration, thankful that I actually had those on me, although still unsure why I had been pulled over. I suspected it was because it is now illegal to drive and talk on the phone in Illinois without a hands-free set. The lady cop came to my window and asked if there was a reason I'd run the light. My eyes got wide and I told her no, I just completely missed it. She took my information and I sat pondering just how much this ticket would set me back, getting more and more worked up. When she came back I was in tears. She gave me back my information and must have felt bad for me - despite it being a fine morning before this event, I didn't have makeup on and was wearing my glasses - so she informed me that I was obviously distracted and needed to calm down, and she was sorry she couldn't do more for me than let me off and advise my job that I'd be late. She probably thought I'd been dumped or suffered some sort of loss. I guess I'm kind of glad I look so disheveled in the mornings, now... But anyways, grace when I could have gotten a ticket for running a light and another one for being on the phone. Also, my mom, that same morning, saw an accident at her bus stop in which someone ran a light and t-boned a car coming through the intersection, so it could have been a terrible terrible morning. But I was blessed with a lesson and grace.
THEN, Tuesday night I was up late helping Tim with a paper. Late as in I didn't get home until 1:45ish. I am usually in bed by 10:30 if I can help it. Overnight, my cell phone died, which serves as my alarm, so I didn't have an alarm go off at six. Due to my sleep schedule being severely thrown off, my internal clock didn't go off either. When my coworkers tried to call to find out why I wasn't at school at 8, they couldn't get through. I woke up at 9 AM when one of my coworkers and friends came to my house and began ringing my doorbell, calling my name, and banging on my door. I flew downstairs and opened the door to see a huge look of relief on her face. When I didn't show and they couldn't reach me, they feared the worst, and I really scared everyone at work, as well as a few friends and my sister whom they had called as well... They were so happy I was ok that I think they were disinclined to give me a hard time about sleeping through first period. Plus my students were fabulous - when they heard the situation, they immediately made a prayer circle and prayed that I was ok, then showed the principal how to do devotions, and afterward made little groups to plan how to raise money for our World Vision Christmas gift. I was so pleased I nearly cried when I got in. Grace, again, from my students, coworkers, and especially my boss.
I don't deserve grace much - I'm still ungrateful, disobedient, unpleasant, and selfish a good deal of the time. But God is faithful, and I hope that this week has taught me a few lessons. And hopefully next time I'll be more apt to see and be thankful for God's daily show of love and grace for me, rather than waiting until extreme times catch my attention.
Thanks for listening? Love love...
Saturday, November 21, 2009
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
I'm down like the economy - Lil Wayne
So, probably in not posting for a couple months, I've lost most of my readers. And there weren't toooooooo many of you to start. But it's ok.
School's going way better than anticipated, and I'm so thankful I could laugh and cry at the same time. There are mealworms growing up in my classroom, assuming they don't all die before they pupate and turn into beetles. I'm still disorganized and messy - a year of experience hasn't actually fixed that problem. I'm living alone in my house, I have a television on order, and only recently re-got the internet. I'm considering getting a dog, but I talk myself out of it every time. I have about ten pounds of apples in my kitchen I need to cook/eat, and about fifty more cherry tomatoes on my plant out back that I'm hoping won't freeze before they turn.
And that's what's on my mind right now. That, and that it's definitely fall. I really love this time of year. I like putting on sweaters again, and watching the leaves turn, and kicking through piles of them on the way to my car. I like that it's cold enough that I want to eat soup every night, because I really like making soup. And it's a great excuse to use my Crock Pot.
This is probably a boring post, and it's 9:30 and I'm considering going to bed. But such is my life lately! I think I love it. :)
School's going way better than anticipated, and I'm so thankful I could laugh and cry at the same time. There are mealworms growing up in my classroom, assuming they don't all die before they pupate and turn into beetles. I'm still disorganized and messy - a year of experience hasn't actually fixed that problem. I'm living alone in my house, I have a television on order, and only recently re-got the internet. I'm considering getting a dog, but I talk myself out of it every time. I have about ten pounds of apples in my kitchen I need to cook/eat, and about fifty more cherry tomatoes on my plant out back that I'm hoping won't freeze before they turn.
And that's what's on my mind right now. That, and that it's definitely fall. I really love this time of year. I like putting on sweaters again, and watching the leaves turn, and kicking through piles of them on the way to my car. I like that it's cold enough that I want to eat soup every night, because I really like making soup. And it's a great excuse to use my Crock Pot.
This is probably a boring post, and it's 9:30 and I'm considering going to bed. But such is my life lately! I think I love it. :)
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Hot for Teacher
So, I bought some rats. Their names are Venus and Serena Williams and they look like this. They're cute and kind of nibbly, and they love eating Cheerios and peeing on my hand. It will be interesting to see what happens when they come to school, because most people aren't favorably inclined toward rats. In the meantime, it is my (fairly easy) mission in life to ensure that these two ladies never come into contact with my other baby.
This is Paris - I don't know if I've ever posted a picture of her, but here she is
, and she would looooove to end up in the same place as the Williamses. So, for the next few weeks, my house will be just inches away from an episode of When Animals Attack. It could be exciting, but hopefully not. :)Speaking of crazy wild animals, I start teaching in two weeks. Whoa, dude. I found out today, also, that I'll be adding 3rd grade science to my schedule three days a week. So far I have no idea what that will actually mean in terms of contact or work involved, so I hope it's a grand old time. I do really like third graders, and they really like all things science-y, so it should be a good situation. So plop that on top of 6-8th grade Science, 6th and 7th Bible, and 6th History, and I'll be a busy one!
Ok, off to go buy a dead mouse for my live snake and some chewy things for my live rats. And maybe some house plants. Love love!
Monday, July 27, 2009
Sometimes love comes around and it knocks you down
So, while I was in Arizona, and developing since I returned here, my youngest sister is in the process of making herself largely vegetarian. This is a decision she has come to all on her own, based on research and predictions about the damage that raising animals to eat is doing to our environment. While I don't see myself joining her ASAP, I've agreed to some solidarity with her by no longer buying beef and pork products, limiting my meat intake to poultry and fish, at this point. And I'm impressed with little Deborah. She's really taken what she's learned from her classes, her reading, and her experiences, and turned it into action.
I'm sort of wondering when I stopped caring about things like that, again. While I was in school, social justice, environmental issues, political and economic debates mattered to me! I would actively look for ways to learn more and/or do what I could to make things right. You don't get to be co-leader of Justice Matters for nothing! :) But then I graduated, started working, and essentially lost a large part of it.
There are moments when I feel that familiar swelling of desire and hope for tomorrow - talking to Deborah about being involved in a community garden at Calvin, seeing my students begin to understand and take ownership of the concept of recycling, reading the stories of friends who are offering valuable services to people in far away lands, listening to the black grandmothers at church give tearful thanks for the graduation of their grandchildren from high school, making a meal from locally grown foods - some out of my backyard.
I realize that, as a middle school teacher, I am (or have the potential to be) an instrumental and valuable part of the network of people around the world who are actively seeking to make it a better place. I went through this over a year ago, but I feel I need to keep reminding myself that teaching children, not to mention underprivileged children in a rough part of Chicago, is no less cosmically important than digging wells in Africa or immunizing children in South America or rescuing slaves in Bangladesh. Maybe the problem is that it is, by and large, so very thankless. But then I get frustrated with myself for needing thanks. Why do I feel like I need a pat on the back, or a thoughtful gift, or a good word put in to my superiors?
I'm here because this is where the action is. At the risk of sounding hackneyed, these kids are on the front lines of an all-out war being fought in their city and in their culture. Ironically, fighting on these lines with them, I have become deeply embedded in a culture that could care less about things like becoming a vegetarian because meat's bad for the environment, or whether or not these peaches were grown organically and locally. Maybe that's the real tension here.
Maybe I'm not revisiting my post-college identity crisis, maybe I'm just coming to terms with the fact that I am trying to be equally a part of two different cultures: the culture of my students, with its hyper-sexual beat-based music, intimate family values, and love for Flamin' Hot Cheetos, and the culture of my sister and much of my college experience, with its organic/local/homespun emphases and global vision for change. In reality, both of these cultures want to see the world become a better place. Absolutely, right at the core, I believe that my students and my sister have the same vision.
I'll keep you posted on my mission to become one of the first hip-hop hippie chicks. I sort of ignored it last year, but I think it might be my destiny. :)
I'm sort of wondering when I stopped caring about things like that, again. While I was in school, social justice, environmental issues, political and economic debates mattered to me! I would actively look for ways to learn more and/or do what I could to make things right. You don't get to be co-leader of Justice Matters for nothing! :) But then I graduated, started working, and essentially lost a large part of it.
There are moments when I feel that familiar swelling of desire and hope for tomorrow - talking to Deborah about being involved in a community garden at Calvin, seeing my students begin to understand and take ownership of the concept of recycling, reading the stories of friends who are offering valuable services to people in far away lands, listening to the black grandmothers at church give tearful thanks for the graduation of their grandchildren from high school, making a meal from locally grown foods - some out of my backyard.
I realize that, as a middle school teacher, I am (or have the potential to be) an instrumental and valuable part of the network of people around the world who are actively seeking to make it a better place. I went through this over a year ago, but I feel I need to keep reminding myself that teaching children, not to mention underprivileged children in a rough part of Chicago, is no less cosmically important than digging wells in Africa or immunizing children in South America or rescuing slaves in Bangladesh. Maybe the problem is that it is, by and large, so very thankless. But then I get frustrated with myself for needing thanks. Why do I feel like I need a pat on the back, or a thoughtful gift, or a good word put in to my superiors?
I'm here because this is where the action is. At the risk of sounding hackneyed, these kids are on the front lines of an all-out war being fought in their city and in their culture. Ironically, fighting on these lines with them, I have become deeply embedded in a culture that could care less about things like becoming a vegetarian because meat's bad for the environment, or whether or not these peaches were grown organically and locally. Maybe that's the real tension here.
Maybe I'm not revisiting my post-college identity crisis, maybe I'm just coming to terms with the fact that I am trying to be equally a part of two different cultures: the culture of my students, with its hyper-sexual beat-based music, intimate family values, and love for Flamin' Hot Cheetos, and the culture of my sister and much of my college experience, with its organic/local/homespun emphases and global vision for change. In reality, both of these cultures want to see the world become a better place. Absolutely, right at the core, I believe that my students and my sister have the same vision.
I'll keep you posted on my mission to become one of the first hip-hop hippie chicks. I sort of ignored it last year, but I think it might be my destiny. :)
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
I've got toooooo much *clap clap* time on my hands
Another classic rock title, this one a little bit more obscure. No cheating this time. I'll write you a tribute in my next blog entry if you can get this one, simply from your outstanding knowledge of early 80's music (hint).
But for real, I haven't done much since I got back. I'm becoming way more into CSI and its offspring than I would like to admit. I've done a little bit of cooking/baking, but hardly enough to say I'm using my time well. I'd tend my garden, but I've only got one monster tomato plant and a kind of piddly pepper plant, so watering those takes about 45 seconds. I spend a lot of time blog surfing. Not even anything good. So I am resolved to use the rest of this summer in a much more productive and cosmically beneficial way. Keep me accountable to perform the following:
- Get some exercise. I've got a wedding in a month and a half that I have to look smokin' for. I'm thinking muscle toning five times a week, plus a few good walks a couple times a week, which can be facilitated by...
- Getting downtown. I'm a quarter mile from a train that takes me into the heart of downtown Chicago, one of the primo downtowns in the country. I've got free access to pretty much any and all museums with my teacher ID, and Katy has informed me that I need to spend some quality time in the public library. Check and mate.
- Find somewhere to live. As of my understanding right now, I have no roommates and nowhere that's planning on me to stay as of the end of August. I need to amend one, if not both of those situations...
- Expand my culinary repertoire. Right now I'm decent at making about six things. I'd like to improve upon the quality and quantity of my recipes. Creative suggestions?
- Read, damn it. I haven't really pulled out a book for pleasure since high school, and now I've got all this time. Katy suggested some Barbara Kingsolver, which I am in the process of obtaining, but I'd be happy to receive other recommendations for books to tantalize my medula oblongata. (I don't think that's right at all, but fortunately no one else took Human Anatomy and Physiology who reads this...?)
- Simplify. I have quite a bit of stuff, which is typical for a teacher. We tend to regard anything and everything as a potential teaching tool. But I've got loads of crap that I'm sure I could get rid of. I also need to review my expenses and figure out why I've stopped being able to save any money. Both of these actions will make it easier for me to move, when the time comes.
- Prepare for this coming school year. I made it through my first year, which is about 3/4 of the battle, I'm told. But I have a lot of planning, praying, and self-evaluating to do in order to help myself be an all-around better teacher than I was last year. Readysetgo!
So, there it is. I think part of my being able to accomplish this will mean avoiding the television. I think I will only watch ESPN for the rest of the summer. That will inspire fitness and provide some athletic entertainment, right? Right.
But for real, I haven't done much since I got back. I'm becoming way more into CSI and its offspring than I would like to admit. I've done a little bit of cooking/baking, but hardly enough to say I'm using my time well. I'd tend my garden, but I've only got one monster tomato plant and a kind of piddly pepper plant, so watering those takes about 45 seconds. I spend a lot of time blog surfing. Not even anything good. So I am resolved to use the rest of this summer in a much more productive and cosmically beneficial way. Keep me accountable to perform the following:
- Get some exercise. I've got a wedding in a month and a half that I have to look smokin' for. I'm thinking muscle toning five times a week, plus a few good walks a couple times a week, which can be facilitated by...
- Getting downtown. I'm a quarter mile from a train that takes me into the heart of downtown Chicago, one of the primo downtowns in the country. I've got free access to pretty much any and all museums with my teacher ID, and Katy has informed me that I need to spend some quality time in the public library. Check and mate.
- Find somewhere to live. As of my understanding right now, I have no roommates and nowhere that's planning on me to stay as of the end of August. I need to amend one, if not both of those situations...
- Expand my culinary repertoire. Right now I'm decent at making about six things. I'd like to improve upon the quality and quantity of my recipes. Creative suggestions?
- Read, damn it. I haven't really pulled out a book for pleasure since high school, and now I've got all this time. Katy suggested some Barbara Kingsolver, which I am in the process of obtaining, but I'd be happy to receive other recommendations for books to tantalize my medula oblongata. (I don't think that's right at all, but fortunately no one else took Human Anatomy and Physiology who reads this...?)
- Simplify. I have quite a bit of stuff, which is typical for a teacher. We tend to regard anything and everything as a potential teaching tool. But I've got loads of crap that I'm sure I could get rid of. I also need to review my expenses and figure out why I've stopped being able to save any money. Both of these actions will make it easier for me to move, when the time comes.
- Prepare for this coming school year. I made it through my first year, which is about 3/4 of the battle, I'm told. But I have a lot of planning, praying, and self-evaluating to do in order to help myself be an all-around better teacher than I was last year. Readysetgo!
So, there it is. I think part of my being able to accomplish this will mean avoiding the television. I think I will only watch ESPN for the rest of the summer. That will inspire fitness and provide some athletic entertainment, right? Right.
Saturday, June 27, 2009
It's been such a long time, guess I should be goin'...
That's right, kiddos, break up the routine with a little classic rock lyrics title... Name the band and get a snuggle!
So it's been about a month since I last posted, but my current mood echoes the mood of my last post. Namely because I don't have to really work again until August. And that's just awesome. Pretty much everyday between now and then is Saturday, and I even get a paycheck all summer, so that's reeeeeeaaaaaallllllyyy sweet. Salary ROCKS.
My last week of school actually kind of sucked, but it was such a long time ago and I just don't want to think about it. I do miss my kids and my Chicago culture, though. Who knew that even Tucson, Arizona would have too many white people in it? I miss my peeps...
This past week, for a drastic change of scene, I decided to join my parents and sister camping up in the White Mountains, in central Arizona. Despite what many of you assume about my home state, Arizona is home to pretty much every type of biome ever invented, and so we spent five days up at 9000 feet among the mountains, fir trees, robins, lakes, and anything else that might seem about as opposite the blistering desert as possible. It was a lot of fun - I haven't been up there with my family since high school, but I still fell right back into the old camping routines of not washing hair, loading and unloading canoes, and tripping and falling while hiking so that I could boast a number of scratches and bruises upon returning home. I built my first fire all by myself, too! IN THE RAIN. It was pretty awesome.
In addition to my already cultivated wilderness skills, I also applied some more recently developed skills of a culinary nature. While hiking, I harvested a little wild mint and oregano and added them to a sweet and sour chicken stirfry I concocted using carrot, pepper, and celery sticks, canned chicken, leftover pineapple, cranberry juice, and some ketchup packets my mom brought along for some reason. I also built a strawberry chocolate shortcake trifle out of ingredients I'd prepared at home. The last day we had pulled pork on buns, slow cooked with other random condiment packets that were tossed in the cooler. All in all, I was very satisfied, feeling a little like a combination of Bear Grylls and Bobby Flay, but with a WAY cooler personality, and a lot less testosterone.
I'm going back to the Chi in a couple days - I have lots to do, including planning for next year, organizing all my crap from this past year, tending a garden, and finding somewhere else to live, or someone else to live with, or both, or possibly neither. If you know of anybody in the Chicago area with a place to rent or a need for a roommate, let me know. It's weird, and I've told a few people about this, but this is the first time I've been back to Tucson and been sort of impatient to return to where I came from. Tucson was always home throughout college, and, of course, while I lived here the year after college. But it's not anymore. I'm not sure Chicago is HOME either, but it feels like where I belong for now. I'm not sure I'm comfortable with that sensation, yet, but it's the way it is.
Anyways, time to go.... do something else, I guess. Name the band if you want a snuggle.
So it's been about a month since I last posted, but my current mood echoes the mood of my last post. Namely because I don't have to really work again until August. And that's just awesome. Pretty much everyday between now and then is Saturday, and I even get a paycheck all summer, so that's reeeeeeaaaaaallllllyyy sweet. Salary ROCKS.
My last week of school actually kind of sucked, but it was such a long time ago and I just don't want to think about it. I do miss my kids and my Chicago culture, though. Who knew that even Tucson, Arizona would have too many white people in it? I miss my peeps...
This past week, for a drastic change of scene, I decided to join my parents and sister camping up in the White Mountains, in central Arizona. Despite what many of you assume about my home state, Arizona is home to pretty much every type of biome ever invented, and so we spent five days up at 9000 feet among the mountains, fir trees, robins, lakes, and anything else that might seem about as opposite the blistering desert as possible. It was a lot of fun - I haven't been up there with my family since high school, but I still fell right back into the old camping routines of not washing hair, loading and unloading canoes, and tripping and falling while hiking so that I could boast a number of scratches and bruises upon returning home. I built my first fire all by myself, too! IN THE RAIN. It was pretty awesome.
In addition to my already cultivated wilderness skills, I also applied some more recently developed skills of a culinary nature. While hiking, I harvested a little wild mint and oregano and added them to a sweet and sour chicken stirfry I concocted using carrot, pepper, and celery sticks, canned chicken, leftover pineapple, cranberry juice, and some ketchup packets my mom brought along for some reason. I also built a strawberry chocolate shortcake trifle out of ingredients I'd prepared at home. The last day we had pulled pork on buns, slow cooked with other random condiment packets that were tossed in the cooler. All in all, I was very satisfied, feeling a little like a combination of Bear Grylls and Bobby Flay, but with a WAY cooler personality, and a lot less testosterone.
I'm going back to the Chi in a couple days - I have lots to do, including planning for next year, organizing all my crap from this past year, tending a garden, and finding somewhere else to live, or someone else to live with, or both, or possibly neither. If you know of anybody in the Chicago area with a place to rent or a need for a roommate, let me know. It's weird, and I've told a few people about this, but this is the first time I've been back to Tucson and been sort of impatient to return to where I came from. Tucson was always home throughout college, and, of course, while I lived here the year after college. But it's not anymore. I'm not sure Chicago is HOME either, but it feels like where I belong for now. I'm not sure I'm comfortable with that sensation, yet, but it's the way it is.
Anyways, time to go.... do something else, I guess. Name the band if you want a snuggle.
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Little shawty's fire burnin' on the dance floor...
Tomorrow starts the last week of school!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I have no idea what I'm supposed to do with these kids for the last few days - apparently everyone else is collecting books on Monday. So what happens to the rest of the week? I don't know...
So I'm going to sit here with a snake around my neck, drink this nice cold beer in my hand, and not worry too much about it. That's all. :)
Matthew 6:34 - "Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own."
Today, my trouble shall be to decide whether to dig into the big pot of chili I just made right now, or wait until Sara and Brian get back from premarital counselling and eat with them, 'cause we're a family. Decisions, decisions.....
I love all of you who read this. All of you. With all of me. :) Love love love love
I have no idea what I'm supposed to do with these kids for the last few days - apparently everyone else is collecting books on Monday. So what happens to the rest of the week? I don't know...
So I'm going to sit here with a snake around my neck, drink this nice cold beer in my hand, and not worry too much about it. That's all. :)
Matthew 6:34 - "Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own."
Today, my trouble shall be to decide whether to dig into the big pot of chili I just made right now, or wait until Sara and Brian get back from premarital counselling and eat with them, 'cause we're a family. Decisions, decisions.....
I love all of you who read this. All of you. With all of me. :) Love love love love
Saturday, May 16, 2009
Kiss me through the phone
Because, no, Dave, I'm never out of song titles. No. Never. I'll even stoop to Soulja Boy if I have to, but I will never be without a title again!
A quick one, but I wanted to announce, officially, that I was offered a contract to stay and teach at Roseland, and last week I signed it and turned it in, so, Lord willing, I'll be back to get my butt whipped some more next year!
I'm pretty sure that I'll be whipping lots more butt than receiving whippings, though.
Because I'm told that's how teaching works.
If people were lying to me, oooooooooo, I'ma be piiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiissed...
But I'm sure they weren't. So Roseland, prepare to be rocked next year. Word.
A quick one, but I wanted to announce, officially, that I was offered a contract to stay and teach at Roseland, and last week I signed it and turned it in, so, Lord willing, I'll be back to get my butt whipped some more next year!
I'm pretty sure that I'll be whipping lots more butt than receiving whippings, though.
Because I'm told that's how teaching works.
If people were lying to me, oooooooooo, I'ma be piiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiissed...
But I'm sure they weren't. So Roseland, prepare to be rocked next year. Word.
Thursday, April 30, 2009
Snakes in a Dash: The Riveting Sequel to Snakes on a Plane. Still starring Samuel L. Jackson
Soooooooooooooooooo, I have a story. It's a true story. Some of you may have gotten wind of it already. But it's one of the most bizarre things that has ever happened to me, soooooo I'm sharing it with my blog audience of about 5.5 people.
Yesterday morning I woke up, after having some weird dreams, and got dressed in my sister's fiance's CATS shorts and my Arizona hoodie. It was Jersey Day at school, and that's the best I could do. On my way out of the house, I grabbed Paris, my snake, who had been snoozing at home after eating the biggest mouse ever two days earlier. I wrapped her around my neck and my roommate/fellow teacher were off to school in my Volvo.
As I was driving, Paris began to slither down my arm, toward the steering wheel. Before I could really stop her, she wrapped herself around it a few times, then turned back to look at me, feeling rather self-satisfied. I warned her that it might be a bad idea to be there, but she didn't listen. She hardly ever does. Things didn't get bad for her until I had to crank the steering wheel around to pull into the school parking lot and park. As I was doing that, her head got bumped a few times and I could see she was getting mad, but was too dumb or distracted to do anything about it.
I parked and went to grab her, but realized that in her irritation, Paris had decided to retreat to a less bumpy place, namely, down the back of my steering column. I didn't even know there was a hole, but she found it, and, to paraphrase my roommate, gave us the middle finger as she disappeared into my dashboard. I panicked, a little.
I rummaged around in the back of my car until I found the special screwdriver that loosened the screws that keep my dash together. I undid the bottom panel in time to see Paris's tail disappearing into a hole I could not reach into. Now I really started to panic, but it was time for school to start. My snake was in my dashboard and I had no idea how to get her out.
I taught the whole day in a paranoid haze, feeling like a mother whose child has gone missing. I didn't tell my students, because I knew they would lose it and want to spend all of their class time pulling apart my car, piece by piece. So I soldiered on, worrying and fighting back tears.
In the afternoon, one of the guys who works as a janitor at Roseland came by and said he heard I had a 'dashboard problem'. I tossed him my keys without even saying anything back and he and the other janitor, both of whom are BIG fans of Paris, proceeded to disassemble my dash. There are positives to working in a sketchy black neighborhood :) They also showed me how easily my radio pops out of my dash. Good to know, in case I need to steal it.
But, despite all their work, my snake was nowhere in sight. I decided to drive home, despite being unsure whether driving might squish, twist, or otherwise mangle my missing pet. I parked my car, ran an extension cord out to it, and plugged in a heating pad, defrosted a mouse, plugged in a lamp, and crawled under my steering wheel to do some more looking.
On my back, prone, with one arm shoulder deep in the inner workings of a volvo dashboard, I saw her underside resting comfortably on some insulation way up inside the dash. Using some pruning shears, I chopped up that insulation and ripped it out, hooking my finger around a snake that I could only assume was probably still irate, hoping she wouldn't bite me toooo hard. After a few tugs and lots of vocal affirmations of love, heat, and delicious rodent snacks, she let go and tumbled onto my face. She didn't even bite me. Probably promises of rodent snacks did the trick. What a mercenary.
But, girl and snake once more reunited, after I'd spent all day imagining grisly images of mechanics pulling her mashed body out from the grinding gears in which she'd become entangled, I broke down and cried. Sobbed and sobbed. My mother called me during my breakdown and, hearing me, assumed that Paris was dead until I could brokenly affirm that I'd just gotten her out and she was fine. Then I punished her by putting her in her carrying case for several hours, because she looked far too pleased with herself when she came out of that dash. Not an ounce of remorse. So into solitary confinement she went.
This morning I was very happy to show her back off to the Roseland community whole and unscathed. Needless to say, today was a WAY better day than yesterday.
Maybe that's not a great story, but it was a big deal to me. :) The hazards of being a snake owner, I guess. Moral: Don't let your snake get wrapped around the steering wheel.
Yesterday morning I woke up, after having some weird dreams, and got dressed in my sister's fiance's CATS shorts and my Arizona hoodie. It was Jersey Day at school, and that's the best I could do. On my way out of the house, I grabbed Paris, my snake, who had been snoozing at home after eating the biggest mouse ever two days earlier. I wrapped her around my neck and my roommate/fellow teacher were off to school in my Volvo.
As I was driving, Paris began to slither down my arm, toward the steering wheel. Before I could really stop her, she wrapped herself around it a few times, then turned back to look at me, feeling rather self-satisfied. I warned her that it might be a bad idea to be there, but she didn't listen. She hardly ever does. Things didn't get bad for her until I had to crank the steering wheel around to pull into the school parking lot and park. As I was doing that, her head got bumped a few times and I could see she was getting mad, but was too dumb or distracted to do anything about it.
I parked and went to grab her, but realized that in her irritation, Paris had decided to retreat to a less bumpy place, namely, down the back of my steering column. I didn't even know there was a hole, but she found it, and, to paraphrase my roommate, gave us the middle finger as she disappeared into my dashboard. I panicked, a little.
I rummaged around in the back of my car until I found the special screwdriver that loosened the screws that keep my dash together. I undid the bottom panel in time to see Paris's tail disappearing into a hole I could not reach into. Now I really started to panic, but it was time for school to start. My snake was in my dashboard and I had no idea how to get her out.
I taught the whole day in a paranoid haze, feeling like a mother whose child has gone missing. I didn't tell my students, because I knew they would lose it and want to spend all of their class time pulling apart my car, piece by piece. So I soldiered on, worrying and fighting back tears.
In the afternoon, one of the guys who works as a janitor at Roseland came by and said he heard I had a 'dashboard problem'. I tossed him my keys without even saying anything back and he and the other janitor, both of whom are BIG fans of Paris, proceeded to disassemble my dash. There are positives to working in a sketchy black neighborhood :) They also showed me how easily my radio pops out of my dash. Good to know, in case I need to steal it.
But, despite all their work, my snake was nowhere in sight. I decided to drive home, despite being unsure whether driving might squish, twist, or otherwise mangle my missing pet. I parked my car, ran an extension cord out to it, and plugged in a heating pad, defrosted a mouse, plugged in a lamp, and crawled under my steering wheel to do some more looking.
On my back, prone, with one arm shoulder deep in the inner workings of a volvo dashboard, I saw her underside resting comfortably on some insulation way up inside the dash. Using some pruning shears, I chopped up that insulation and ripped it out, hooking my finger around a snake that I could only assume was probably still irate, hoping she wouldn't bite me toooo hard. After a few tugs and lots of vocal affirmations of love, heat, and delicious rodent snacks, she let go and tumbled onto my face. She didn't even bite me. Probably promises of rodent snacks did the trick. What a mercenary.
But, girl and snake once more reunited, after I'd spent all day imagining grisly images of mechanics pulling her mashed body out from the grinding gears in which she'd become entangled, I broke down and cried. Sobbed and sobbed. My mother called me during my breakdown and, hearing me, assumed that Paris was dead until I could brokenly affirm that I'd just gotten her out and she was fine. Then I punished her by putting her in her carrying case for several hours, because she looked far too pleased with herself when she came out of that dash. Not an ounce of remorse. So into solitary confinement she went.
This morning I was very happy to show her back off to the Roseland community whole and unscathed. Needless to say, today was a WAY better day than yesterday.
Maybe that's not a great story, but it was a big deal to me. :) The hazards of being a snake owner, I guess. Moral: Don't let your snake get wrapped around the steering wheel.
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
This is my Father's world
I'm taking advantage of the last few hours of Earth Day to write briefly regarding a recent frustration of mine.
I'm done with people, even jokingly, but mostly seriously, trying to debunk the whole climate change/global warming situation. An acquaintance on Facebook recently cited, as his status, a Fox news article about how the Arctic ice shelf was actually growing, rather than shrinking, and that these liberal bastards are just trying to freak out us hard-working Americans with their environmental scare tactics. Every time someone makes a wise-ass comment about how this recent cold weather in April is actually disproving global warming, I want to punch him/her in the scapula.
Dude. The environment. We affect it. The human race has been pumping bad things into the environment at never before seen levels for the last 200 years, without any consideration for the consequences. When we destroy and dirty our planet without thought and care, we directly violate God's command to us in the Garden of Eden, to care for the earth. And subdue it. But, contrary to popular belief, subdue does not mean suck dry.
And suppose all us quasi-liberal hippie types are wrong. The world isn't in serious trouble in the next 100 years. Praise God! BUT, how dare they. HOW DARE THEY act as if we are doing the world a disservice by asking that people be conscious and responsible in the way that they use resources and care for the world we've been given. HOW DARE THEY mock people whose main goal is that Americans, especially, consider that we are not the only people that have ever or will ever live on this planet. That what we do now has implications for the future. That it is not unnecessarily inconvenient, even, to reduce, reuse, and recycle.
Can you tell this is semi-important to me? Maybe more than it should be. But I'm tired of it. Rightist reactions like that just keep pushing me left.
Whatever.
Time for a snack and bed.
I'm done with people, even jokingly, but mostly seriously, trying to debunk the whole climate change/global warming situation. An acquaintance on Facebook recently cited, as his status, a Fox news article about how the Arctic ice shelf was actually growing, rather than shrinking, and that these liberal bastards are just trying to freak out us hard-working Americans with their environmental scare tactics. Every time someone makes a wise-ass comment about how this recent cold weather in April is actually disproving global warming, I want to punch him/her in the scapula.
Dude. The environment. We affect it. The human race has been pumping bad things into the environment at never before seen levels for the last 200 years, without any consideration for the consequences. When we destroy and dirty our planet without thought and care, we directly violate God's command to us in the Garden of Eden, to care for the earth. And subdue it. But, contrary to popular belief, subdue does not mean suck dry.
And suppose all us quasi-liberal hippie types are wrong. The world isn't in serious trouble in the next 100 years. Praise God! BUT, how dare they. HOW DARE THEY act as if we are doing the world a disservice by asking that people be conscious and responsible in the way that they use resources and care for the world we've been given. HOW DARE THEY mock people whose main goal is that Americans, especially, consider that we are not the only people that have ever or will ever live on this planet. That what we do now has implications for the future. That it is not unnecessarily inconvenient, even, to reduce, reuse, and recycle.
Can you tell this is semi-important to me? Maybe more than it should be. But I'm tired of it. Rightist reactions like that just keep pushing me left.
Whatever.
Time for a snack and bed.
Friday, April 03, 2009
Miss Independent
Ahh, another Friday night.
Survived another week of the manic clown show that is my life at Roseland. We're four school days away from Spring Break, which is, I am almost positive, THE LATEST SPRING BREAK EVER. I'm ready to tear my eyes out, then grope around blindly until I find each of my students and tear theirs out, too. I can't blame them for being antsy. At the ripe old age of 24 1/2, while I'm teaching, I'm mentally concocting elaborate plans to sneak out and give myself a two week break instead of one. Most of them involve multiple costume changes in which I wear mustaches, absurdly out of place porkpie hats, costume jewelry, and floppy shoes, whilst attempting my best Flemish accent. All of this is ridiculous, of course, when trying to escape an all-black school in South Chicago. I'd have more luck trying to pass myself off as Kanye West.
So, Brian (my future brother-in-law) and I are extra pumped for our plans for tomorrow. It was his birthday on Thursday, so we're going out to Golden Corral (oh HELL yeah) for lunch, stuffing ourselves with as much buffet food as possible, then coming back home to veg for the rest of the day and watch the Final Four. Anyone else who wants to can feel free to join in.
Yesterday I co-chaired my first ever Science Fair, which, while satisfying and successful, made me perhaps the most tired I've ever been. I don't even think I did much that was really very difficult or demanding. But I woke up this morning with back spasms and a tender sciatic nerve, which made me feel like an overweight 55 year old man. Part of it was probably the mental trauma of trying to explain over and over and over that the theme of the fair was The Invention Convention, and that, for this reason, I was not going to display four different versions of a vinegar and baking soda volcano. Seriously. I tell the classes specifically that volcanoes are not inventions. Still had them turn them in. Along with two kids who turned on a mini light bulb with a battery, and one who demonstrated that adding salt to water makes an egg float. I told them I'd let them know the day I got word that they'd invented volcanoes, electricity, and buoyancy. My biting sarcasm is wasted on these types, however. Ah well.
I still haven't had any definite word on my future at Roseland, but based on complete hearsay, I may still have a job for next year. We shall see. It would be the decent and professional thing to do to let us all know before Spring Break, I say.
Speaking of professional, I actually kicked one of my kids in the butt today. He was NOT moving fast enough for my taste. And it was Freestyle Friday (translation: out of uniform Friday) which always makes me feel a bit feisty. I'm not above whipping a marker at a smart ass from time to time either. Maybe I'll retain my job just in time to get fired. I hope not. I'd better be more careful...
I'm hoping that this next week will finally bring Spring in its fullest expression, rather than tantalizing us with 60 degree temperatures, then snowing on us. Nothing lamer than a chilly Spring Break.
Time to find some foody leftovers. Chikin' TendRz, here I come!
Survived another week of the manic clown show that is my life at Roseland. We're four school days away from Spring Break, which is, I am almost positive, THE LATEST SPRING BREAK EVER. I'm ready to tear my eyes out, then grope around blindly until I find each of my students and tear theirs out, too. I can't blame them for being antsy. At the ripe old age of 24 1/2, while I'm teaching, I'm mentally concocting elaborate plans to sneak out and give myself a two week break instead of one. Most of them involve multiple costume changes in which I wear mustaches, absurdly out of place porkpie hats, costume jewelry, and floppy shoes, whilst attempting my best Flemish accent. All of this is ridiculous, of course, when trying to escape an all-black school in South Chicago. I'd have more luck trying to pass myself off as Kanye West.
So, Brian (my future brother-in-law) and I are extra pumped for our plans for tomorrow. It was his birthday on Thursday, so we're going out to Golden Corral (oh HELL yeah) for lunch, stuffing ourselves with as much buffet food as possible, then coming back home to veg for the rest of the day and watch the Final Four. Anyone else who wants to can feel free to join in.
Yesterday I co-chaired my first ever Science Fair, which, while satisfying and successful, made me perhaps the most tired I've ever been. I don't even think I did much that was really very difficult or demanding. But I woke up this morning with back spasms and a tender sciatic nerve, which made me feel like an overweight 55 year old man. Part of it was probably the mental trauma of trying to explain over and over and over that the theme of the fair was The Invention Convention, and that, for this reason, I was not going to display four different versions of a vinegar and baking soda volcano. Seriously. I tell the classes specifically that volcanoes are not inventions. Still had them turn them in. Along with two kids who turned on a mini light bulb with a battery, and one who demonstrated that adding salt to water makes an egg float. I told them I'd let them know the day I got word that they'd invented volcanoes, electricity, and buoyancy. My biting sarcasm is wasted on these types, however. Ah well.
I still haven't had any definite word on my future at Roseland, but based on complete hearsay, I may still have a job for next year. We shall see. It would be the decent and professional thing to do to let us all know before Spring Break, I say.
Speaking of professional, I actually kicked one of my kids in the butt today. He was NOT moving fast enough for my taste. And it was Freestyle Friday (translation: out of uniform Friday) which always makes me feel a bit feisty. I'm not above whipping a marker at a smart ass from time to time either. Maybe I'll retain my job just in time to get fired. I hope not. I'd better be more careful...
I'm hoping that this next week will finally bring Spring in its fullest expression, rather than tantalizing us with 60 degree temperatures, then snowing on us. Nothing lamer than a chilly Spring Break.
Time to find some foody leftovers. Chikin' TendRz, here I come!
Saturday, March 21, 2009
Let it Rock
And now, a random list of things I'm thinking about:
Man, I love March Madness
Those bagel chips I just made smell delicious
I have no idea what my classes are going to be doing in my classes next week.
Shoot, I have parent teacher conferences next week
I hope I haven't upset any parents in the last two months. If I have, I don't know about it, which makes it even more dangerous...
This may be the only time in my life that I cheer for Texas, but... Hook 'em, Longhorns! Beat those Duke pansies.
I reeeeeeaaaallly love March Madness.
Know what else I love? Star Wars. Return of the Jedi is on Spike. Oh Lando and Han...
I want a muffin.
Good thing I just made muffins.
Is it lame that I'm home alone on a Saturday night, watching Star Wars and basketball while composing a blog entry?
Probably.
Meh.
Note to self: Don't forget to buy a spare tire.
Note to self: Avoid all potholes, spiky objects, tire slashers, and other potential poppers until you buy a spare tire.
Crap, I still haven't fed my snake. Hang on, Paris...
Texas needs to step it up. Coach 'em, Rick Barnes!
We need to look into the technology required to build space ships that look more like George Lucas's and less like tin cans with Bic razors taped to the outside.
This is probably getting boring, I'd better finish. And feed my snake. And bake those cookies I've been meaning to bake all day (double chocolate oatmeal! I'm excited)
Goodbye and love you, if you made it all the way through!
Man, I love March Madness
Those bagel chips I just made smell delicious
I have no idea what my classes are going to be doing in my classes next week.
Shoot, I have parent teacher conferences next week
I hope I haven't upset any parents in the last two months. If I have, I don't know about it, which makes it even more dangerous...
This may be the only time in my life that I cheer for Texas, but... Hook 'em, Longhorns! Beat those Duke pansies.
I reeeeeeaaaallly love March Madness.
Know what else I love? Star Wars. Return of the Jedi is on Spike. Oh Lando and Han...
I want a muffin.
Good thing I just made muffins.
Is it lame that I'm home alone on a Saturday night, watching Star Wars and basketball while composing a blog entry?
Probably.
Meh.
Note to self: Don't forget to buy a spare tire.
Note to self: Avoid all potholes, spiky objects, tire slashers, and other potential poppers until you buy a spare tire.
Crap, I still haven't fed my snake. Hang on, Paris...
Texas needs to step it up. Coach 'em, Rick Barnes!
We need to look into the technology required to build space ships that look more like George Lucas's and less like tin cans with Bic razors taped to the outside.
This is probably getting boring, I'd better finish. And feed my snake. And bake those cookies I've been meaning to bake all day (double chocolate oatmeal! I'm excited)
Goodbye and love you, if you made it all the way through!
Saturday, February 21, 2009
So Damn Beautiful
So, after waiting a long time, I'm finally in the midst of watching the movie Max Payne. I don't know what it was about the movie, but from previews and a general love for Mark Wahlberg and his bad-assery, I felt I needed to see this one.
I'm about 3/4 of the way through, and still have very little idea what's going on. Lots of shooting, lots of mayhem, and a mysterious serum that's being drunk by a guy who looks like Billy Zane. But he isn't Billy Zane. I wish he was Billy Zane. W. T. F.
And for some reason Jackie from That 70's Show is a sexy assassin.
But I still love you Marky Mark. I always will. I can't help myself.
Reid, I feel like this would have been a move better left to watching drunk at The Loft. It's up there with Southland Tales for me. But it's ok, there will always be more. Undoubtably.
I'm about 3/4 of the way through, and still have very little idea what's going on. Lots of shooting, lots of mayhem, and a mysterious serum that's being drunk by a guy who looks like Billy Zane. But he isn't Billy Zane. I wish he was Billy Zane. W. T. F.
And for some reason Jackie from That 70's Show is a sexy assassin.
But I still love you Marky Mark. I always will. I can't help myself.
Reid, I feel like this would have been a move better left to watching drunk at The Loft. It's up there with Southland Tales for me. But it's ok, there will always be more. Undoubtably.
Thursday, February 05, 2009
There's an icebox where my heart used to be
I think the cold is finally getting to me, after my fifth year in midwestern winters. I've taken to blowdrying my bed under my covers before I get in so it's toasty warm (and mildly damp, for some reason). Awesome? I've also started wearing leggings under everything. Dress pants. Jeans. Skirts. PJ pants. Dresses. Everything. I'm pretty pumped about the thought of 50 degree weather that's been promised for Saturday.
Also, I'm doing an animal of the day with my seventh grade while we study Kingdom Animalia. So far we've done the pangolin and the Venus Flower Basket. I look forward to many other animals too! Suggestions would be welcome!
Also, I'm doing an animal of the day with my seventh grade while we study Kingdom Animalia. So far we've done the pangolin and the Venus Flower Basket. I look forward to many other animals too! Suggestions would be welcome!
Saturday, January 17, 2009
Shawty is a killa'
It's almost 11 PM and I'm exhausted from a long day of doing mostly nothing (although I did get all of my errands run before 10 AM and I made applesauce and homemade chicken noodle soup today) but I wanted to share with whoever still reads this thing my experiences of last night.
I chaperoned my first middle school 'dance' last night. Basically, it was my job to watch the food and make sure my students didn't take too much fried chicken, spaghetti, juice more defined by color than flavor of fruit, and flamin' hot cheetos. Stereotypes are for the weak-minded, but they exist for a reason...
I spent my evening watching about 50 black kids stand around a half-lit gym and sort of sway to music being played from a boombox with a microphone set up in front of it. Every once in a while a brave kid would bust a move for a minute until our principal got to him/her and ended that business right quick. I heard about 125 times that this party was 'wack', because everyone told me at least twice. I just sorta shrugged. It looked pretty wack from my chicken-guarding post. But the brand new, 24-year-old teacher is not going to get up and start shakin' it to get things going when the principal is yelling at kids to stop dancing and go play pictionary instead.
But really. If they're blasting Lil' Wayne, Ne-Yo, and Beyonce over the 20 year old sound system, are you going to want to shake your ass, or have your classmates try and guess that you're drawing a stack of pancakes? The answer is pretty clear to me. I guess administration has to figure these things out on their own...
Who am I, after all, to tell them how to run their school?
I chaperoned my first middle school 'dance' last night. Basically, it was my job to watch the food and make sure my students didn't take too much fried chicken, spaghetti, juice more defined by color than flavor of fruit, and flamin' hot cheetos. Stereotypes are for the weak-minded, but they exist for a reason...
I spent my evening watching about 50 black kids stand around a half-lit gym and sort of sway to music being played from a boombox with a microphone set up in front of it. Every once in a while a brave kid would bust a move for a minute until our principal got to him/her and ended that business right quick. I heard about 125 times that this party was 'wack', because everyone told me at least twice. I just sorta shrugged. It looked pretty wack from my chicken-guarding post. But the brand new, 24-year-old teacher is not going to get up and start shakin' it to get things going when the principal is yelling at kids to stop dancing and go play pictionary instead.
But really. If they're blasting Lil' Wayne, Ne-Yo, and Beyonce over the 20 year old sound system, are you going to want to shake your ass, or have your classmates try and guess that you're drawing a stack of pancakes? The answer is pretty clear to me. I guess administration has to figure these things out on their own...
Who am I, after all, to tell them how to run their school?
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