Committing to Commitment

I work better, I’ve found, when I have multiple deadlines looming over my head—even if they are self-imposed deadlines. So, I know I said back in October I was back in the blogging game, but then I fell off the edge of the planet again. Go figure. I blame my BFF Sara for that, although she doesn’t know it (then again, maybe she does, she is scary perceptive like a ninja). Sara is in her third trimester and I have gone crafting crazy trying to get my BIG plans completed before Baby arrives! So October passed in a blur of yarn and fabric and emergency poodle skirts. And I’m still not done!

So what does that mean for me? Well, November is going to be busy. As always. I don’t even try to pretend to be surprised. In addition to the crafting and NaNoWriMo, I am going to commit to getting at least two posts a week. They might be short, maybe just be a photo or two. But the more I have to accomplish, the more willing I am to manage my time appropriately and not procrastinate.

And Friends, I am a big procrastinator. If I started a list of all my faults, procrastination would be at the top. I totally blame my family for that one. As the baby of the family, I learned very early on that if I waited long enough, someone else would do my task for me. Heck! My mom and sister still do it! Remember that whole painting my house thing?

(Another fault, since I’m listing them, apparently I don’t like to take responsibility for myself. But I blame my birth order for that.)

But no one is going to craft for me. And no one is going to NaNo for me. And clearly, no one is blogging for me. So I’ve got to pick up the slack. And by pick up the slack, I really mean, actually do the stuff that I want to do: crafting, blogging, writing.

Of course, there is one teensy flaw in my plan. Work. Yup. Me working, as much as I love my job (and a post is coming out soon about that) it really is putting a kink in my whole time management plan. Although to be fair, there are a few things I can do while I am at work that doesn’t interfere with actually working especially during the slow period, but don’t tell anyone I said so!

N is for Nobby

I had a tough time with a slang term for N. I was unimpressed with some of the words and phrases I found and so I settled for nobby. It’s one of the few words on the list so far that I have never used personally and can’t recall ever having heard it used before either.

I am not a fashionable person. My sister threatens me all the time about submitting my name to that make-over show. I wear things that are comfortable, clean, maybe wrinkled, but decent. I wore professional style clothes when I taught but I was able to keep it to a business casual level: khakis, polos, and a few skirts and blouses.

Since I’ve been unemployed, my wardrobe shrank quite a bit and I tended towards my comfort clothes: jeans and tee shirts. Looking decent is different to me than looking fashionable and for as long as I can remember decent won over fashion any day of the week.

When I was hired a few weeks back, I had a quite the panic attack because I really didn’t have anything left in my closet that could pass muster for professional. The polos and khakis I wore in my last years of teacher are what I wore to run around town in, to pick up bags of potting soil at Home Depot, to bake in – do I need to even say how grungy they have become?

Dragging Ashleigh and Cyra with me to the mall to pick out a few outfits to get me through the first few months of the new job was critical. I know what I am comfortable in, but I have no clue as to what might go together – and have you seen the spring colors? Neon pink and orange, lime greens and Caribbean blues. And what happened to just plain solids? Everything is patterned; everything has doo-dads and froo-froo on them. I can’t stand the stuff!! I wanted to find plain things that would easily mix and match. Ashleigh and Cyra insisted on pops of color and no khakis!

An hour later, with Ashleigh and Cyra by my side, I managed to pick out a number of interchangeable outfits. And I kept within my limited budget. I won’t claim to be nobby yet.

Now if only I could find out where Ashleigh hid my khakis.

Nobby is an adjective from the 1850s that means fashionable.

Example: Nora wasn’t especially nobby, but nearly everyone noticed when she started wearing shoes from Nine West.

  

This post has been brought to you by the Letter N and the fine folks at Blogging A to Z. Check out more A to Z blogs here!

K is for Kibosh and Kosher

I have discovered something about my new work schedule: Thursdays are rough. The work itself isn’t difficult, but my hours? Those are killers. I work a third shift on Wednesday, get home around 7:20 am Thursday morning and have to be back at work by 3pm. This is called the turn around shift and it’s working me over something fierce.

I don’t sleep well during the day when I work graveyard. The phone rings and I have to get it because what if it’s the girls calling? The dog barks and I need to figure out why since she only really barks if a stranger approaches the house. The amount of caffeine I consume during the night works it way out of my system while I’m trying to sleep and I end up getting up two and three times to use the bathroom. The eastern sunlight cascades through my window and though I have blinds, it probably wouldn’t hurt to throw up some light blocking curtains.

So, Thursdays? Yeah. They’ve got it out for me. Something about the T days, I guess, because Tuesday always throws me too.

That said, I haven’t got a story for today’s words. And I feel like a complete heel because of it. Not because I’m disappointing my admiring fans (you guys are admiring, right?) but because I really wanted to have a story to share and I just…can’t today.

It’s 10 am Friday as I’m writing this and I’m ready for a nap. I want to crawl back into bed and pull the covers up over my head.

Jeesh. I’m surely pitiful! But I’m gonna put the kibosh on that right now! That kosher with you guys?

Kibosh is a noun from the 1940s meaning to put a stop to something and kosher an adjective from the 1920s meaning fair (or a term that describes food prepared according to Jewish dietary law found in the Torah). 

Example: Kelly was keen to kibosh Kevin’s kidney knickknack collection. But Kevin’s counselor claimed that the whole thing was kosher.   

This post has been brought to you by the Letter K and the fine folks at Blogging A to Z. And by the number 1418. Check out more A to Z blogs here! 

Interruption

I interrupt your regularly scheduled blog reading for some minor announcements:

1) Holy Moly People! Working is ruining my life of lesuire! I am finding that adjusting to a new schedule at 36 is not nearly as easy as adjusting to a new schedule at 22. That being said, I'm trying, but I am going to have to prioritize my time here. So for the duration of the challenge, I will be focused on making comments on other people's blogs. I love your comments and I read every one of them. Twice. I do! Really! Once in my inbox and then again on the blog. So for Goodness sake keep them coming because you're all awesome like that but I probably won't get around to replying to them until my days off. 

2) I am going to disallow anonymous comments. Blogger is pretty good about filtering for me, but the amount of spam is increasing exponentially and I think I'd rather be a bit more proactive with my blog management.

3) I'm not sure if you noticed but at the end of each post, I've been giving a shout out to a fellow A to Z-er. For this first week I'm linking to people I already know and follow, but for the rest of the challenge I'm going to link to people I don't know all that well but have been intrigued by their posts. 

4) I have been blessed with a gaggle of new followers and I want to take a second and acknowledge them! The A to Z Challenge is a great way to discover new blogs and people who might just be crazier than me and I am grateful for everyone who has stopped by on a whim (and if you are like me you click a link because the name intrigues you) and then stuck around. Thank you!

Happy A to Z-ing!!

Updates, News, and Other Info

UPDATES:

Blogging A to Z - Guys! Can you believe that it starts Monday? HA! Me either! Remember back when I said I was going to work at getting everything set and prewritten and...yeah. That didn't work at all. So I had a theme, I dropped a theme, I went back to my original idea, struggled to plan it, got a job, and almost decided to forgo the challenge. Then I read a news story in my local paper the other day that made me go, "hmm."

And with that, I present my new and improvised theme:

Archaic Slang Of America's Yester Years Through The Ages And Across The States

I'll admit, the title might need some work - it is a bit wordy, but I like words. I especially like words and sayings that not many people use. So there you go. 

NEWS:

Did you catch up there how I mentioned getting a job? Skimmed right over that part, didn't you? Well! I never...okay, I have but that's not the point. The point, Friends, is that I am once again  gainfully employed. Scott and I had a super long talk (seriously, it's been going on for about a year or so) and after nearly two years of playing the application game with the local school district we came to the decision that I needed to look at other options (really, it is wicked hard to get a position in this district. I'm pretty sure that unless you know someone, it just isn't going to happen). 

Interestingly enough, just like we found our current home on craigslist*, I found my job there too. I am back in the hospitality industry as a front desk clerk at a local hotel. I had my start in hospitality/service way back after I graduated high school and then all through college so I am familiar with it and honestly, I'm good at it. As much as I like to try to deny it, I am a people person and I like interacting with...you know...people. 

That being said, I'll be working a couple of wonky shifts and until I adjust completely, interneting and blogging will be taking a backseat. I'm going to do my best with the A to Z but I honestly don't expect my posts to be very long or story-like as they were last year. FYI - if you are recently joining me, you should check out last year's A to Z when you have a chance.

*remind me to share a really funny-creepy story about looking for jobs on craigslist! Honestly we should do a craigslist bloghop with funny-creepy stories because oh man! do I imagine that you guys have a bunch!

OTHER INFO:

Umm...Okay, yeah, you got me. I don't have anything else to add right now. How's about I leave you with a photo?

Mysterious Cinder Block Circle found just off a trail at Girl Scout Camp.

All Of A Sudden

School has started and my Summer of Bumdom has come to a sudden halt.

All of a sudden, I have to do things again…Make lunches, iron clothes, do laundry in a timely manner, make sure the children are clean, check homework, sign planners, write lesson plans…my days have gone back to unending.

All of a sudden, there aren’t enough hours in the day and every little thing seems to manifest into a much larger problem than one would image. Minor insignificant things like food consumption become monumentous*.

All of a sudden, getting out of bed and eating breakfast, once a leisurely activity involving giggles and morning tickles, has morphed into a bleary-eyed stumble down stairs and into walls kind of affair. Making lunches demands forethought and planning at an hour far too early for either. Let us not even discuss the chaos that is dinner!

All of a sudden time becomes important and I am once again telling time by PBS morning cartoons. Between the Lions becomes “Please do not take 30 minutes to eat half a cup of cereal” time. Maya & Miguel becomes “go get dressed right now or else” time. Arthur becomes “Do you have everything together cause we’ve got to go right now” time.

All of a sudden, everything is a big rush.

All of a sudden, I realize once again how precious every little moment is…reading Cyra a story at bedtime, tucking Ashleigh in after she’s already asleep because she is “too grown-up” for tucking in, playing a card game after dinner…

It is these moments, of course, that all of a sudden, I remember mean more than what they are.


*Yeah, I made up a word, but that’s okay because I have a degree.

The Last Day

Growing up, I never would have thought that teachers look forward to the end of the year as much as the students. Now, after four years of teaching, I begin the end of year countdown the first day of school!!

This year has been rough. With a new principal trying to micro-manage his mark on the place, kids that were nearly impossible to control (and not for lack of trying...they just didn't care about punishment/reward), and a new curriculum that didn't allow for spontaneity or creative projects, this year is one better left in the past.

Now, I look forward to the summer: a trip to New York, Amanda's Wedding, Kyle's Graduation, The 7th Annual Birthday Fiesta O' Fun (Minty Fresh Edition). Lazy days with the girls are in my future: playing in the pool, staying up late and watching movies, getting lost in the book store for hours on end, walking St. George Street sipping on a Groovy Smoothie. Next year is too far away to worry about (although plans are in the works). Days will blend, merge, and ooze until all of a sudden it is August 17th and I have to go back to reality.

Ahh summer...one of the perks that makes teaching tolerable.

Testing the Teacher

The Sixth Crazy!

I’m a pretty easy-going teacher. For all of my complaints, my kids are not criminals and in most cases, not delinquents. I could be in a worse school. And my advanced kids are typically good kids, albeit sassy smart-asses, but good. On Thursday, I had my 5th period advanced class working on an article about Elizabethan England, part of their mini-unit on Shakespeare. Now, Shakespeare is not really in the curriculum for 8th grade, but it is in 9th. My feeling is that if they get a little background knowledge on Shakespeare, they will be better prepared for the full Shakespeare unit in 9th grade.

So, they were reading this article when one of the kids, Z, asks why I am making them read. I say "well, I told you I’m preparing you for next year. And besides, you might see this on my end of quarter final." Well, that prompted a bunch of the kids into this, “You wouldn’t test us” mode. Now, I don’t give many test. Most of my curriculum is about writing so their big grades are writing projects, but an occasional test is not unheard of. Anyway, this conversation quickly degraded into a group of four boys, betting that I wouldn’t give them a test the next day. I said ok, you want a test, you got it. Then they proceeded to up the ante by stating that I wouldn't give them 50 questions. This prompted another to state that 50 would be too easy. In no time they talked themselves into a 150 question test with an essay.

Sound unfair? It was, but I said, okay, you want a test, you got it. They didn’t believe that I would do it, so now I had something to prove. First, don’t mess with me. Second, I keep my word. I was up until about 1 am writing this wicked fill in the blank/short answer test. Unfortunately I did not have enough material to get to 150 questions. I got to 110.

I went in yesterday, made copies and awaited 5th period. They all filed into class. They had heard rumors from their other teachers that I did indeed have a test for them. The first few in asked if I really did have a test. I held up the stack.

“Testing mode,” I told them and obediently they turned their desks from groups to rows and sat down. They took out pens and pencils. They waited.

“Ok guys, here’s the deal: I do not have a 150 question test for you.” My ringleaders smirked. I waited a second. “I was only able to come up with a 110 questions.” Mouths dropped. “I didn’t want to end up just repeating questions, and I was up pretty late so, well, there you go.” I continued the instructions, including the instructions for the essay question.

Eyes got wide. Smirks fell. Hands tentatively went into the air. I called on A.

“What if we don’t finish?”

“Well, I guess that would be a problem for you, huh?” I smiled. “Do the best you can. You may start as soon as you get the test.” I handed out the test and as the kids flipped though the seven pages, they kept glancing at me as if waiting for me to get to the punch line.

When I said nothing more, they heaved a collective sigh and began working. All except Z. When he got his test, he clearly, boldly, loudly (how many more adverbs can I add here?) said, “I’m not doing this,” put his name on it and turned it over and sat there glaring at me as if he were a matador staring down a bull. But a Taurus has nothing on a Leo in terms of stubborness.

Ok, I thought, you want to play hardball…we’ll play. I set the timer for twenty minutes. Meanwhile, all the other students were working as quickly as they could to get as many finished as they could. Twenty minutes went by the only way it could during a test, crawling like a lame animal for shelter for the teacher, and flying by like an supersonic jet for the students.

When the timer went off a number of the kids looked at me horrified. I said, “Ok, for those of you who had the foresight to bring your notebook with you, as you are supposed to do each day, you may take it out and use your notes to complete the test.” Z glared even more. Guess who didn’t have his notebook?

The test continued. Z glared. It was a matter of principle now. Who would break first? Who would prove the point?

Twenty more minutes went by. I called time and collected the tests. After I had all the tests I addressed the kids.

“Now, how many of you think it was unfair for me to test you all when this whole thing was started by Z, D, D, and T?” All hands went into the air including the four troublemakers! I said, “You’re right. It really wasn’t fair; however, I made my point, right?” Heads nodded. “Good. Now, for those of you who attempted this test, even though it was unfair, for each correct answer you will receive extra credit on your end of quarter exam.” Smiles, except for one. “Now, I’m going to grade these, record your points and give them back for you to correct and use for a study guide for the end of quarter final. And if you turn this back in, corrected, on the day of the final you will receive additional points.”

The bell rang and students looked at me to dismiss them. I let them go, reminding them about the second part to their test to be completed at home and turned in on Monday: a brief summary of one of Shakespeare’s plays.

Later on, while I was outside with my 3rd period class doing art fest stuff, Z came up to me and apologized for "being a jerk." His words, not mine.

Exeunt stage left, pursued by homework.

a CrAzY wEeK

To say things at work are crazy would be far beyond an understatement. While the end of the year is always a bit stressful, more so than the beginning of the year, for some reason there is always one week in May that is psycho crazy!

First – This week was the 4th Annual Art Festival. Our art teacher, Mrs. C, works tirelessly all year round to raise money, plan and execute this week. She invites all sorts of artists, musicians, story tellers, and bands to come to our school and spend time talking about, demonstrating, and performing for our students. It is an awesome activity for the kids…if they would appreciate it. Unfortunately, the type of students I have…middle schoolers…are disrespectful, rude, obnoxious and downright nasty. And really this has nothing to do with race, gender or culture. It is all about the age! Middle schoolers are jerks. And truly as much as I love the art fest, I think it would serve better to do it for an elementary school. Little kids might not be able to sit still, but from what I’ve seen they show a lot more respect at assemblies than older kids.

So during this week, the teachers sign their classes up to go see and do different activities. The last two years it has been very easy to make sure that each class got to go to at least one thing because we were on teams and no one class or group of students went to the same thing over and over. My team last year had worked out a schedule to a perfect harmonious flow. This year because administration did away with the team concept, I had many classes I brought to events that whined they’d already been to that particular event three times already. And therefore, they took it upon themselves to act like the little jerks they are. And amazingly, it was my advance kids who were the worst! One of my worst classes, so grateful to not have to work, behaved so well I gave them extra credit!

So that was going one every day last week.

Second – Scott’s car is on its last wheel. So Scott and I have been talking about trying to figure out a way to acquire a new car. Carjacking and Grand Theft Auto aside, we don’t have much in way ability. We just got our tax refund which I was planning on using for my trip to New York, but we could use it for a down payment. Scott thinks the car will last for the summer, but the fact that the underneath is trying to escape containment and he has to disconnect the battery when he parks, makes it hard to justify keeping this old red death trap.

Ok…so that isn’t really crazy as much as frustrating.

Third – Scott has long claimed there is some sort of mystical energy transfer between the two of us. When he is exhausted, I am wide awake; the few times that I am tired and in bed before 9 or 10, he is wide awake and unable to sleep. This week, that has happened two times. So twice this week, I have been in bed before 9 – 10 (when I normally am writing) and thus have not done much writing this week. So my schedule has been thrown for a serious loop this week. Weird!!

Fourth – Administration!! Once again, our principal has seen fit to redo the class assignments and arrangements for next year. Now I am not going to complain about this because I got back on the team I was on originally and that’s where I wanted to be. I will however, once again state that the man is trying to put his mark on the school and in my opinion the reason he split us up in the first place was because we are a really strong team and he is trying to conquer and divide. So during the week, he has been coming to us, talking about placement and blah blah blah while subtly still insinuating that it was the teacher’s fault FCAT scores weren’t as good as they should have been.

Meanwhile, in the 8th grade hall we’ve been holding these contests for the students. Every 15 days, whichever students have remained referral free get a reward. The first one was a field-day type event that was poorly planned and executed because the admin didn’t really communicate with us what she wanted u s to do. Ok. It happens. The kids had fun anyway. The second one was this week. During the art fest when the kids were already crazy. Once again, poorly planned. We weren’t told what was going on until Wednesday. We didn’t get to give any input. Ok. She’s the admin. Tell us what you need us to do. Nothing.

The plan was to watch a movie in the cafeteria. Now, it was a Bolt, which is Disney, but rated PG so the kids needed a permission slip. Those didn’t get handed out until Thursday last period, in the breezeway by the admin. So once again the teachers didn’t know who was allowed to go. Well, on Friday morning, kids who hadn’t gotten a permission slip asked to call home for verbal permission. I spent all morning on the phone with parents getting permission. When I went to lunch, I was told that I should have turned in that list by noon. And that she had clearly given me those instructions. Uh, nope, but ok, I’ve got a list even though it is one, and I turned it in.

Then, later on coming out of the hall for planning, I bore the brunt of the admin’s anger as she scolded that “all [she] wants is the teachers to cooperate. Is that really too much to ask? [She] clearly gave instructions to all teachers to turn in verbal permission by noon and now [she] had all these kids who claimed that had verbal permission running around trying to get into the movie” and on and on. Now, I am a team player. They ask me to do something, I do it, I might complain later about it, but I do it, no questions asked. So for the admin to claim that I refused to do what she asked in and of itself aggravating and insulting. But for the admin to then claim that I was giving instructions that I was not is ridiculous. In fact, another teacher had handed permission slips (verbal and non) directly to the admin who later sent in a student for the information that was already in hand!!

So that was super fun!!

Fifth - Never in all my great many years of teaching (four, for those who don't know) has a student ever cursed at me or called me a name to my face. I'm sure I get called all manner of things outside of class. This week, I had a group of students not return with me to class after an art fest activity. When they showed up about 5-8 minutes after everyone else, I stood at the door to write their names down to mark as tardy/skipping. One of them, a nice, quiet, sweet straight A student tried to explain why she was late. I calmly said that I didn't want an excuse, and to please go in and sit down. As she walk in she very loudly call me a "bitch" and sat down. I was speechless. Agast. Stunned. I said "What did you just say?" The class was silent all staring at me and back at her. She just glared at me over her shoulder. "Out," I said pointing at the door. I walked her across the hall to another teacher and said I did not want her back. I wrote her up and sent it up to the office. Later on I found out her punishment: one day suspension and her mom told her that she would not be going on the end of the year trip. Ouch! I felt bad about that, but I hope the message was driven home. It is one thing to grumble under your breath and think things, but quiet another to let stuff out without thinking about consequences.

The sixth and last crazy, deserves its own post. Tune in for part two in about 30 seconds.

The Cons of Naps

Most people who know me will not be surprised when I say I’ve got a temper. It is slow to boil (90% of the time) but when it rages it is quite out of control. Therefore, I have learned that when I know I’m mad about something and know that I will not be able to rein in my mouth before thinking, I should just be alone. When possible, I do make every attempt to isolate myself away from my family so I don’t wig out at them for something that they have nothing to do with.

So it was with no surprise, that today after a particularly pissy day with 8th graders, a pissy day trying to get ready for a District Visit and an equally pissy Early-Release training where instead of training, or at the very least something useful, we listened to a sales pitch for $500 stainless steel cookware and then got berated for not doing our jobs, for not caring about the students, for not being dedicated enough, for not…

Deep breath.

Anyway, I came home and went straight to bed. I wasn’t particularly tired, but with tears welling in my eyes as I drove home, I knew that there was no way I could handle dealing with people. I heard Scott come in and check on me a few times, I was aware of dinner; the spicy aroma of turkey tacos drifted into my room arousing me for a brief moment, but I ignored it as best I could and drifted myself on a lazy wave of near consciousness. My stomach grumbled and growled while I eased in and out of odd half dreams that could have been real except for the maniacally grinning drama mask that hovered in each scene.

Subliminal reflections on what I deal with each day? I wouldn’t be surprised.

I finally got out of bed at about 9:30, hungry, disoriented and still grouchy, although not as angry as before. Scott had cleaned the kitchen, done piles of laundry and was watching Mythbusters. I stumbled into the kitchen looking for food and found just enough taco meat for a single taco. Scott asked me if I was okay and I told him briefly about what happened. I ate my taco while cruising the net, and was entertained by Zach and Facebook pirate English. After Mythbusters, Scott went to bed, telling me not to stay up all night.

So where does this leave me? After my four and a half hour nap, I am still wide awake at 1:30, the night-morning before a major district visit and am now flipping between cheesy romance movies on USA and MonsterQuest on History because there is nothing else on. And because I am especially adept at multitasking – you know, doing a half hearted job at a multitude of things, never finishing one thing and then wondering why nothing gets done properly, I am browsing the internet for news on the Swine Flu and reading a book.

On the plus side? I managed to not freak out at my kids and didn’t explode at Scott for anything.

February

Sara says that February is the single suckiest month there is. I have to agree. With a weeks distance between me and February, I feel I can now safely comment on this stupid month.

For some reason, mayhap because of the shortness of it, February always finds me short on funds. No matter what. Ever since I can remember…well since I started paying taxes and bills, I am always in a position of trying to figure out which bill I am going to short in February. And simply because it is a bad economic environment does not explain this away. February is only short by two days, but those two days seem to have great pull. I can’t explain it at all. Now, I won’t claim that money is flowing from the money tree every other month; it is often that we are tight, but February is unique in its short change. It isn’t Christmas effects, because I am pretty good about not buying stuff I don’t have money for (at Christmas time anyway). In addition to the short fall for bills stupid stuff always seems to happen in February that requires a large amount of cash to fix. This year? It was the computer (see my previous post about what Scott did).

Since becoming a teacher February also brings about the hated and despised FCAT writing test, truly the worst judge of an 8th grader’s writing ability. Nothing like massive amounts of pressure to make a 13 year old spew out a brilliant 5-paragraph essay in 45 minutes or less. Not only does it suck for the students, but it sucks for the teachers because the admins start fussing, mussing and micro-managing what we do in the classroom. Apparently, we teachers are not doing our jobs at all even though we get good reviews on observation days and maintain lesson plans and portfolios and diligently repeat repeat repeat lessons and do grade recovery and oh man the list goes on. Come February, everyone from academic coaches to district cluster chiefs feel we don’t teach enough. It would probably help the system if we went back to actually teaching information rather than teaching strategies to understand information (you know like memorize the multiplication table, instead of a multiplication strategy).

Next, of course is my least favorite holiday: Valentine’s Day. I hate this stupid commercial day of forced love! I can not remember liking Valentine’s Day since I was in elementary school. It has nothing to do with love…maybe once it did, but now it has to do with “how much do you love?” And really, I love Scott everyday (yes even when I want to kill him) and he loves me everyday. I don’t need one day out the whole year to show love. I show him everyday, in a thousand little ways, making him lunch, ironing his shirt, kissing him goodbye and telling him, “Be safe.” These might seem like “domestic” or “trivial” acts of love, but love is a daily commitment and affirmation. It is work and flexibility, compromise and determination. Relationships take work. And yes it is nice to have a “romantic” evening out, giving a flower and all that, but I refuse to be told to do it, to make it a commercial event. One day a year to make a show of love is a ridiculous expectation. People get too wrapped up in “romantic” love and don’t pay attention to real love. (By the way, I feel the same way about Mother’s Day, Father’s Day and all those other days. Ridiculous!)

Let’s talk about the weather. February in Florida is like dealing with an emo, manic-depressive angst-ridden teenager. One day it is freezing the next it is in the high 70s. It gets rainy, foggy, yucky, and can’t ever make up its mind about what it really wants to do. And on top of that: Groundhog’s Day!! What is the point? Six more weeks of winter? Early Spring? It doesn’t matter!! Spring starts March 21st each year anyway and February 2nd is roughly six weeks before it. Why doesn’t anyone see this connection? It’s like trying to play mind games with us so we don’t all get Jack Nickolas crazy-like in The Shining because we are miserable in winter blues. And people get miserable sick in February. It’s the height of Flu and cold season and for first time someone in my family got the Flu and when did it happen? February! Cyra was hit the last week. Thankfully, it was the head and ache flu and not the stomach puking flu!

Finally, (and this is going to sound politically incorrect and prejudiced at first but bear with it, because I do have a point) February is Black History Month. Now, what have I got against African Americans? Nothing. I just think it is ridiculous to have history “months” in general. My problem is that history should be taken as a whole, not chunks separated out by people, but chunks separated by time. All history should be explored because it is in our history that we figure out who we are. Race and ethnicity should not be a factor in studying history. It should not be, “Oh, it’s February, let’s study black history.” Or “Oh, it’s March, let’s study women’s history.” History does not happen in isolation, therefore, we can not study isolated pockets and hope to understand.

Now, that being said, I also have a problem with the term “African-American.” We are in a day and age when we need to look at our race as “human.” And our nationality? Well, where were you born? Poland? Guess what? You’re Polish regardless of skin color. South Africa? You’re South African. American?? Guess what? You are AMERICAN regardless of skin color. The only people who should be referred to as African-Americans are those who immigrated to America and became citizens (even then, I have issues because if they became citizens then they are American). How silly would it be for me to walk around saying I’m Irish-English-Scandinavian-American even though it was three or more generations ago that my ancestors immigrated here? I might have Irish ancestry, but I am American. I might have Scandinavian relatives, but I am an American. Yes, the history of slavery is tragic, inexcusable and devastating, however, we cannot change history; we can only study it and learn from it. And one month isn’t going to accomplish that!

The only good things to ever come out of February: my mom’s birthday (which I didn’t even get to celebrate with her yet because Cyra was sick with the flu!) and my niece’s birthday. Everything else? I’d just as soon hibernate through the month. Now that March is here and Spring is on its way, things are looking up!

Zombie Haiku and Early Morning Ramblings

Zombie Haiku

Zombies are moaning
Outside of my locked window
Calling for my brains.

Why do I fear them?
Rotting away. Shambling.
Piles of grey flesh.

They will never stop
In their quest for squishy brains.
Mine must be tasty.

Lock all of the doors.
Board up the first floor windows.
Prepare for the worst.

Grey flesh sloughing off,
Organs and gore oozing out,
Black, soulless, empty.

Contingency plans
Should have contingency plans.
Plan A never works.

Scream all through the night,
No help will be there for you.
Stare into the night.

Alone in the house,
Bloody fingernails scratching,
Ripping at the door.

The dead are walking.
Humankind is at an end.
The dead will consume.

Two thousand and twelve
The Mayans knew what we don’t:
Dead will walk again.

Why worry about
The Nasdaq and the Dow Jones?
Zombies on Wall Street.

I really need to stop reading Zombie stories before I go to bed!

Early Morning Ramblings

If the Borg tried conversion rather than assimilation, I think people would be more willing to be Borg. Here’s why: we claim we want to be unique individuals, yet we exhibit our individuality by following all the latest trends and fads. One of our fears is not fitting in, not being “normal.” Think about it. The Borg allow all people to follow the same trends…that of the Hive Queen. All people fit in whether they are Human, Ferengi, or Klingon. Race doesn’t matter. Gender doesn’t matter. The Borg work together for a united front. Isn’t that what we all claim we want? Peace? The Borg want it too and actually work together to achieve it.

Teenagers are the worst form of humanity on the face of the planet. Hormonal, awkward and gangly, they look to fit in by being nasty and mean. I will accept the claim that all humans are selfish (even those that appear selfless) however, I would claim that teenagers are the epitome of this ideal. It is the teenager mind that wraps around itself and refuses to acknowledge the existence of anything else but themselves. It is a very rare occurrence that teenagers at selflessly. And yes, I realize that this is a huge generalization.

Arthur is really the best cartoon on television today. The new cartoons cater to trends and fads. They offer fluff and cotton. Arthur has substance. By no means am I making the claim that the cartoons I grew up with were any different. Fluff, cotton and catering to a mass market and consumerism, the cartoons I grew up with are no better that that of Dragon Ball Z, SpongeBob, and Mickey Mouse (the new adventures). It is just that Arthur is funny, moral, and real. Kids can relate to it. Hell, I can relate to it! Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m not knocking today’s cartoons. I’ve learned to like SpongeBob. I enjoy others as well – I can’t think of any right now, but I’m sure there are some out there.

What have I learned today through my early morning ramblings? Fear Zombies and Teenagers. The Borg aren’t all that bad. Arthur rocks!! And I probably shouldn’t philosophize first thing in the morning.

Surprising

It isn’t often that my students surprise me, 8th graders being predictable: selfish, oozing with drama and full of themselves. But occasionally they do surprise me with their actions or thoughts. Today was one of those days.

It was an ordinary enough day. A “b-week” which for some reason always seems to speed by like a runaway train. Busy, hectic and chaotic, but that describes just about everyday at a middle school. During the class change between 4th and 3rd periods two of my students, M and J decided that smack talk wasn’t enough to prove their manly “maness” (keep in mind of course that these students are 14 and a far cry away from “man”) so words became challenges and a gauntlet was throw, picked up and accepted. Imagine the very romantic image of knights in shining armor and then go to the complete opposite. Now, we had just come back from lunch and they were hyped up on chocolate milk and cold hamburgers, so the full stomachs and sensitive hormones gave way to an all out brawl. A brawl that I was unfortunate enough to get stuck in the middle of.

Normally during fights, I am crowd control. I push kids into the nearest classroom and kick the mob back so nobody gets hurt, as is required. I am not overly strong, so me trying to break up a fight is laughable. And with my medical issue, bruising is a concern for me, so I try to stay out of the way of flying fists. Besides, I really, really, really, don’t like pain.

So there I am, stuck in the middle of the hall surrounded by a mob of students that I am trying to keep back. The mob decided that it was far more fun to get as close to the fight as they could, which resulted in the unfortunate side effect of me being closer to the fight. At that point, two male teachers at the top of the hall are trying to push their way towards the fight. Two other students D and T are trying, unsuccessfully, to help break up the fight. Good rule of thumb, if people are intent on injuring each other, it is kind of pointless to try to stop them. In any case, I am still far too close to this fight but it seemed to be winding down in that J was on the floor and M was pummeling him about the head. At that point it is a simple matter of pulling M off J and M would be considered the “winner” (at least this is easy in boy fights, girl fights? I don’t even want to think about it!).

So I figure in order to end the fight and get the kids out of the hall, I’ll pull M off J and that will be that! And amazingly, it worked. I grabbed M with my left hand and pulled him up and back. As soon as I put my hand on him, he stopped punching. Whether he let me pull him back or in the moment I became grinch-like strong, I don’t know. But I pulled him back and swiveled to my left and pushed M away from J. Now, keep in mind, we are in a hallway, I can’t get to my classroom because a mob is standing in front of it. I am pushed up against the lockers because a mob is behind me. So in essence I am stuck in one spot in the hall. But I figure I’ll be ok, because I know that the two other teachers are making their way towards me. (remember the mob?)

M immediately “calms” down when he sees me. Now he was still yelling but he wasn’t swinging and he certainly didn’t have anymore to prove by that point. My right arm is braced against the lockers and I keep trying to push M farther back away, but mob! So I am holding him in place. I look at him and in a split second, just as I feel a presence behind me, M’s face goes from calming down to boiled up. J came up behind me and started swinging at M over my right shoulder.

Now, let me remind you: MOB!!! I had no where I could move to. As J started swinging inches from my head I twisted away so that instead of fighting over my shoulder, the boys were now fighting two inches from my face. And really, I never knew punches really did sound like a sickening thud. Now, at this point, I am more than a bit nervous…I am bordering on fright. Both of these boys were bigger than me, both were athletes and took great pride in working out. With the mob pushing in to see the fight I could not move in any direction. The two teachers were still trying to get to M and J and all I could do was lean my head back.

I started off this post saying that a student surprised me, and here is where the surprise comes in: As I am trying to avoid being hit (although I do have to say, M and J were very accurate with their punches) my other student, D, who had been trying to help break up the fight to begin with, saw that I was stuck, pushed his way up to me through the mad mob of 8th graders eager for some blood, grabbed my upper chest with his left arm, called a quick, “Watch it!“ and forcibly shoved me behind him, effectively shielding me from the fight. Now whether his “watch it” was directed at me, M and J or the other students I’m not sure. But by that point, the other two teachers were able to get in between M and J and pull them apart and down to separate ends of the hallway. And I resumed my crowd control job shoving kids into classrooms and clearing the hall.

Afterwards, during the class change at the end of the day, I called D over to my door and thanked him. I said, “You shoved my out of the way, thank you.” And, bless this boy, because he looked down at me in shock and said, “Ms. M, I’m so sorry I pushed you but you were gonna get hurt.” I almost cried. I said, “No, Darling, I was scared and didn’t have anywhere I could go, you got me out of the way. Thank you!” He just grinned a sheepish sort of embarrassed smile and went to class.

Not one to leave enough alone, I called D’s mom before I left for the day. At first she was afraid that I was calling with bad news, and I said “No, Ma’am,” and explained to her what happened, that her son, who apparently outside of class gets into a bit of trouble, was concerned for my welfare and helped me. I told her how proud I was and grateful to D that instead of looking to “get in” on the fight, he was doing the right thing. She started to cry and thanked me for letting her know about the “good stuff” that happens.

Now I can honestly say, that in my four years at my school, I have not been scared in the sense I was afraid something was going to happen to me. I had a student with a gun in my class. Didn’t phase me. I had a student who, in anger, threatened me. Not a problem.

Today…today, I was scared. And grateful. And proud. And really, when I think about it, when I think about the kind of kid D is, I’m really not all that surprised.

Live and Learn

Okay, so here’s the gist of what has been going on this week.

Number 1

- Florida Writes. This inhuman test of an 8th graders ability to barf an essay onto a piece a paper is a major hassle and an inconsistent way of judging whether or not a student can write. I’ve kids who can write brilliantly if given enough time. I’ve no love for standardized testing though I understand the concept. I would rather go to a portfolio based assessment program, unfortunately, many teachers are too lazy to want to keep up with all that paper and a portfolio system would cost the district more money since someone would have to collect the portfolios and “grade” them. Anyway, the test was on Tuesday and the week leading up to it was so incredibly stressed, I have no words for it. I can say that I am exceptionally proud of my homeroom. For a group of kids that had barely given me an inch all year long, they showed out well on test day. They all planned and all but one of them wrote a full page and most of them wrote front and back - a whole actual essay! We’ll see how their grades turn out in late May, but I am hopeful. Besides, if they do well, my principal is more likely to keep me on in the face of HUGE budget cuts coming down the road.

Number 2

- Wednesday I got home to pretty crappy news. My non-tech savvy husband managed (and I’m still trying to figure out how) to perform a complete system wipe on my computer. I know it involved one of the cats and the keyboard, beyond that, I’m at a loss, as is he. So, I yelled, screamed, cried, begged the computer gods to wake me up because you see…I did not have a backup. So, I got on the phone, to my tech geek buddy at work who said, “that sounds bad.” And he referred me to a geek company, who said, “Wow? Really? A complete system wipe? Wow. That’s bad.” Then they offered an outrageous fee per hour to attempt (attempt - not guarantee) to recover some (SOME) data. I called my big brother. Still crying, and was informed that “yup, it is bad and really there isn’t much hope.” I believe my big brother. I do. I put faith in his knowledge of computer geekiness but that did not stop me from calling an additional 12 computer repair companies in town to try to get my data back.

So where did this leave me? Well, fearing for his life, Scott slept on the couch after I threw a phonebook at the wall, screamed, “Fuck all this, I’m going to bed” and slammed into the bedroom at 7:00pm. Thursday was not much better. I kept thinking about the lost pictures, the lost stories, the lost everything! I moped through the day, grouching at my students, not yelling at them, but just in a funk and they knew it and for the most part left me be and actually worked. By the time I got home, I was still upset but not mad anymore. After all, Scott didn’t do anything on purpose. It was just something that happened. I made some attempts to get the computer back up in working order and realized that a daunting task lay before me.

My computer was 6+ years old and while in human terms that isn’t very long, in computer terms, my faithful tower should have already been put out to pasture, sent to the great PC pile in the sky. I started in with updates and downloads from Microsoft. Even with high speed internet it took about an hour to download everything. Then I tried to open Word. My product code have been deleted. Yikes! So I called up HP and begged for them to give me my product code so I could reinstall it. The nice foreign lady explained to me that it would cost a nice shiny credit card for them to remotely access my computer and manually input that information. And that it would take up to three - five days and would cost me $56.95 each day! What? I politely declined. By the time Scott got home Thursday night, I was no longer mad or upset, just frustrated with the reality of the situation. I told Scott that I wasn’t mad at him. I was just sad at the loss. He said he was sorry, and that I could blame him all I wanted. Instead I spent a good ten minutes hitting him with a throw pillow. While I felt better afterward, it was kind-of pitiful because he just took it.

That left me Friday to think about what to do. I had already had plans to purchase a new graphic card so that I could play Spore. The more I thought about the amount of money I needed to spend to update the system the more I began to think maybe it would be more cost effective to get a new system. I researched. Which is what I do. And found that graphic cards are expensive. And one that would be compatible with my ancient motherboard was about $200. Yikes! Again.

So, with Scott’s bonus check for making Salesman of the Year, I went out today and purchased a new HP Pavilion desktop for under $650. It was bundled with a flat screen monitor (which is beautiful) and printer (which I didn’t need, but can give to Ashleigh to have in her room). It has about a gazillion GBs of hard drive space (and read that gazillion as 500 GB which is almost 3 times as much as I had before and I hadn't come anywhere near to filling it all up). I brought it home, plugged cords in like mad and was rewarded with a shiny new computer.

So the story ends with a lesson learned - I bought an external, portable hard drive that I will use to religiously back up my files once weekly. A “big” purchase with money that wasn’t slated for anything and that we didn’t account for when budgeting (and really, I’m just doing my part to help the economy!). And a realization that stuff is just stuff. I may have lost photos of my girls, but I still have my girls. I may have lost stories and ideas, but I’m full of ideas and stories (just ask Sara). And one of the reasons (aside from financially) that I hadn’t purchased a new systems was because of the hassle of transferring files. Not a problem now. And what’s more beyond that, I know have the capability to use ALL my Sims expansion packs without crashing the computer or closing 30 background tasks while I play!

So, live more, learn more, take more pictures, play more Sims, write more stories, rip more music…and apologize to the husband for yelling at him because, of course, I should know better than to not have back-ups!