Bits & Pieces

Geez, another week is almost over. With the long commute, I get home around six, and go to bed around 9, so I have very little time for anything any more. I'm torn over the idea of moving if I get hired for a second year. I mean, I love my house, and I know I could not find one like it for the same price closer to the city. On the other hand, I'd have more money to spend on a house if I wasn't spending fifty bucks a week on gas. I have a tough time making decisions that are a conflict of emotion and rationality.

It's been a tough week- my fourth hour class is trying to drive me nuts. I finally asked one of the counselors if he would come observe and offer me some advice. You know what he said? Essentially, he told me I needed to "raise my voice". Shit, I thought I WAS raising my voice! I have never been accused of being meek, but he said I'm not firm enough with a couple of them. Let me assure you, there have been a few nights where I thought I was going to cry because I was so mean to them! Besides, I feel like it's not fair to the half of the class that is behaving to have to hear me bitch all the time. I guess I have to try to imitate my mom to get through to some of them... sigh.

Ok, I gotta go- two parent letters to write (one good, one not so good), then it's off to bed. I'll stop by this weekend. Have a good night!

fall scenery

beautiful barn

Move Away From The Screen And GO OUTSIDE!

Hi Everyone, welcome to a beautiful weekend! I'm about to load the dog and the camera and take some lovely fall-foliage pics for Grandma. But, before I go, I wanted to say hello and catch you all up on the magical existence that IS my life.

I know I have been grousing forever that I don't feel well, and I'm sorry. I'm hoping that by taking it pretty easy this weekend, I'll be refreshed and renewed for next week. This coming week is midterms. I don't do a big test like most teachers- I hate tests. I don't like taking them, and I don't like giving them. I think you put a lot of pressure on a person by calling something a test, so I do "projects". They don't realize it, because they're having fun, but those are their tests! Unfortunately, I just figured my grades, and I have 8 Fs!!! I don't think I've given 8 Fs in my career. I looked at my grades, and everyone who has a C or below is just not turning stuff in. Can you imagine: all you have to do is turn something in, and you will pass, but you are too cool to do even that? The worst part is, I offered all of the Ds and Fs an extra assignment to help bring their grades up a little (I don't normally offer extra credit, but I hate to see anyone dig a hole this deep so early in the year). Only one student did the assignment... ONE.

My 7th hour class was feeling very sheepish; bad bad bad reports from the sub on Thursday. The rule is: if a sub writes your name down, you have AT LEAST 2 detentions. My detentions are after school for 30 minutes, which doesn't seem like a big deal to me (having spent extensive time in detention halls myself). However, most teacher's detentions are 15 minutes at lunch, so I seem really mean! Shit, if they're going to be unpleasant in my class, I'm going to make their detention as unpleasant as possible (I make them work out of our book for the whole time). My hope is that after a few people serve my detentions, word will get out, and behavior issues will be reduced (kind of the same idea behind public executions!) So, next Tues. and Wed. I will be having a full house of visitors. It sucks, because I got rave reviews for 3 of my classes, but two of them are full of "class clowns" and attitudes. Sigh, I should be glad it was only 2 classes.

The kid is supposed to come start painting my house today. I would rather he wait til next weekend, but, what am I going to do? He keeps thinking he can come in and use the bathroom, but I don't know how much clearer I can make it: I AM A TEACHER. IF YOU ARE IN MY HOUSE, IT WOULD LOOK INAPPROPRIATE, AND I COULD LOSE MY LICENSE. Kevin never had a problem with that, but he's very busy now, and doesn't have time. So, I've got Gomer, who is a nice kid, but has no experience with anyone who values their career. His mom is fresh out of prison, and his grandparents are passed out most of the time... sigh. My mom always said my sister collected stray animals and I collected stray people- it's my special gift, I guess.

Have a great weekend!!

Ups and Downs

Ok, I'm still sick; I'm going to take tomorrow off and just relax. But, more importantly, I have to tell you the most amazing story...

Ilia's sister, Myra, is awake! She's not sitting up in bed, talking, like in the movies, but she is alert and responsive! The story goes like this: The girls' 7 year old nephew (who saw the shooting) has been inconsolable. Apparently, they were very close, and no one has known what to do for him. So, Ilia's mom (his grandma), decided he needed to see Myra (still in her coma) to understand what was going on. Before they went into her room, the grandma stopped to talk to someone in the hall, and the little boy snuck in to see her. He SWEARS that Ilia was sitting on the bed next to her, holding her hand and whispering in her ear. She turned and smiled at him, and he knew Myra would be ok. He called for his grandma, to tell her that Ilia had come back. When he turned back around, she was gone, but the machines hooked up to Myra began going off- she was awake! The doctors have taken pics of her skull, and can't find the bullet fragment that was lodged in her brain (they couldn't remove part of it); it's just gone! Enough to give you shivers, eh?

Everyone at school is sick. There is a wicked strain of pinkeye going around, along with strep throat, viral pneumonia, as well as many other minor illnesses. I now have a sore throat and a fever (again). I have begun walking around my room between classes with Lysol, spraying every surface. I'll stop class if I see someone wipe his/her nose with their hand and tell them to wash it- I don't care anymore, it's repulsive (we have sinks in our rooms, so they don't have to leave). I bought good soap, as well as hand sanitizer, and hand lotion, so there is no excuse for passing your nasty germs on to others!!!

Bill has been too sick to play sneaky jokes on any of us lately. I kind of miss it, but to be honest, I've been too tired to really give a shit. I am still working on revenge for his posting of the note about me... hehehe.

I took a note away from one of my kids today-- It seems his girlfriend is mad because he let another girl perform oral services on him. Geez, when I was in 8th grade, my idea of cheating was if my boyfriend talked to another girl in class. I hadn't even kissed a boy yet... I'm old. And, I'm a little pissed that my 8th grade students are seeing more action than I am- God has a cruel sense of humor!

Have a great day!

NyQuil Rocks

Ok, I'm back from the brink of death. Anyone who has ever sent their child to school sick should be beaten with a mallet. I don't care what your reason; you are a scum-sucking selfish pissbag. Thank God for NyQuil! At least you're asleep, and don't care that you may be dying.

I've been trying to find a dr. so I can refill my anxiety meds, but I can't reach anyone while they're in the office. On my lunch, they're out of the office at lunch. At 3 pm, they're not taking calls for the rest of the day. Do these bastards have to pay bills like the rest of us? I've noticed my anxiety level rising steadily, and I've got to do something. It's awful when an idea creeps into my head, and I can't let it go. For some reason, I had the feeling that something awful was going to happen to my dog today, and in spite of a very good day, whenever I was alone, the thought would return. I nearly had a full-blown panic attack over the last mile to the house. Geez, being nuts isn't all it's cracked up to be. I think losing Ilia has made a lot of my anxiety resurface. I hate this; why can't I just deal with shit like everyone else- you know-- road rage!?

Oh, btw, stinky dad's son thinks I have a "fuckin awesom rack". I know this because another teacher took a note from him, and Bill put it on the bulletin board in the teacher's lounge (yes, he IS a rat-bastard). I rarely go down there, so apparently it's been there since Thurs. Do you think I should ask the kid what he thinks of my ass?

Shit, I've gotta get ready for tomorrow-- Open House!!! Blah... so much to do, and not nearly enough time to do it. Sorry so brief and self-pitying; I'll try for more later. Sadly, as I found out today, I can't get into blogs from school...sigh.

Have a great day, all!

Odds n Ends

Hi, everyone! I want to thank you all for your kind words and wishes. I think we're all past the shock of Monday, and we're beginning to move on. We actually had a great day today- one of the girls in my homeroom asked if she could play a song for us that she had written, and it was haunting and beautiful, but also... comforting and uplifting. While most of us shed a tear or two, they were really more tears of hope and joy than of sadness and loss.

In continuing the brighter, more positive feelings, I'll give you another installment from: MY LIFE IS WEIRDER THAN FICTION

I had a parent come in tonight, wanting to talk about his son's grade. This seemed strange, because his son has an A so far (how many grades can you get in 3 weeks?) First of all, let me say that I knew his father had arrived before I saw or heard him. Hmmm, you may ask, how many senses are left.. touch, no; taste, HELL NO; smell, DING DING DING... BINGO! It wasn't just the overwhelming BO, but the liter of imitation Polo that really pushed his stench-ometer over the top. He walked in, looked at me, said, "Never mind", and started to leave. I asked him what was wrong, and he said, "My son said you were nice-lookin', so I was gonna meet ya, but yur way too short, and yur ass is too big". And he left. Now, should I feel insulted that the stinky dad thinks I have a fat ass, or should I send my mom flowers for giving me her butt so that he left quickly? I'm at a loss.

My mom called yesterday to tell me that my sister and her man left to get his daughter; their custody orders finally came through. Great news if you know where she's (his daughter) been living, and how she's been treated. However, she lives in fucking Louisiana! Do you think anyone in my family has turned on a TV and watched a weather report? When I asked Mom "What about Ivan"? She honest-to-goodness replied, "Is that their neighbor that helped fix their roof?" Sigh... I'm hoping I don't see them on the news; the "surprised as shit" couple that you always think are complete idiots for not taking a hurricane seriously.

Have a good evening.

No

When I get to school at 6:30, there are usually two or three other cars there. When I arrived today, there were over a dozen, one of them from the district Mental Health Crisis team. Someone was going to have a bad day.

I have held friends as they mourned the loss of their students, but I have never lost one of my own... until today. You would think I would've been prepared- urban setting, high crime neighborhoods, all the usual social problems associated with that. But how can anyone possibly be prepared to have the principal put his hand on your shoulder as you walk in and ask you to step into his office? I imagine that families of military personnel feel that way when there's a government car in the driveway.

She was a pretty, quiet little girl; the one you seat next to the talkers to help maintain some control. On an interest survey I had them all fill out, she said she wanted to be an actress or a "vetranaran". She smiled shyly when I made bad jokes, and looked properly solemn when I reminded the class for the fifth time to be quiet. She was eager to pass out papers and stayed after to tell me about her hamster (or was it a guinea pig?). She had a small group of friends, and they shared the same table for breakfast and lunch. They laughed their little-girl laughs and looked at boys. She played an instrument in band, although I'm ashamed to admit I don't know which one, and she was trying out for basketball.

I had exactly one and a half hours to get through my shock and grief so I could be there for my kids when they arrived. Some of the older teachers said, "You'll get used to it after a few times". Dear God, do they hear themselves?! I DON'T WANT TO GET USED TO THE DEATH OF A 13 YEAR OLD CHILD! Not her, not one of MY kids.

I always think that I have some professional distance from my kids, and that while I care for them, I'm not this attached. Somehow, life always reminds me that once they walk into my classroom, they are mine, like it or not.

During my planning period, the principal called me to come down to the office. Dreading the conversation, I was greeted with the sight of a grieving family, devastated by two bullets; one killed their youngest daughter, the other put her sister into a coma. A woman I've never met asked if I was me. When I said yes, she hugged me so tightly I almost stopped breathing. Sobs wracked her body as she choked out how much her daughter had loved my class, and how she was excited about a project we were beginning this week. Screw composure, I lost it. The rest of my classes saw me cry- and I held them as they cried, too. I don't care if we don't learn one thing on the list of important crap- this year, all I want to make sure every one of my kids knows is that they are loved.

Hope your day was better.

Again

You know what, I wrote this post because it was something important to me. I prefaced it with "Read or don't; to be honest, this one is for me". So, IF YOU DON'T LIKE WHAT I HAVE TO SAY, DON'T FUCKING READ IT. With that out of the way, I am returning my Sept. 11 post in its original form. Please read the entire thing before you jump to conclusions about me, my motivation, my intelligence or education. And if you read this and take away that I am still blaming an entire group of people for this, I direct you to the long, run-on laden sentence that begins the fifth paragraph. I have many faults, but being racist is NOT one of them, and you should thank whatever god you pray to that you did not say such a thing to my face.

"I wasn't going to post about that day, but I can't get it out of my mind. I want to move on, to forget and get on with my life, but somehow, every year, it's like picking a scab off a wound that won't heal. So, read or don't read- to be honest, this one is just for me.
Sept. 10, 2001- I decided I'm not going to school tomorrow. No real reason, not sick, no appointments, I just didn't want to go.

Sept. 11- The phone rang early. Joe was working nights, so he had just gotten to bed, and we were annoyed. It was my friend, B. "WHAT?" I snapped into the receiver. "Turn on your TV- we're being attacked" she very quietly stated, then the line went dead. I got up and flipped on CNN. It was moments after the second plane hit the towers, and I just stared in disbelief. Who would do this? I mean, I knew in an abstract way that our foreign policies had alienated us from much of the world, but this was not an attack on a military base- these were regular people: people like me. Joe yelled for me to turn down the TV, but I didn't move, I just stood in the middle of the room, tears flowing. He angrily stomped into the living room to turn it down, and froze in midstep. Later I would realize that this was the last time in our life together when we were really a couple. These events, and our reactions to them would drive a wedge between us that would turn our lives upside down.

We stood there, in the living room, both of us crying for an eternity. When the announcer said that the Pentagon had been hit, I crumpled to the floor, unable to support myself any longer. "If we aren't safe at the Pentagon, WHERE are we safe?" I asked noone in particular. We held each other for a few minutes, when Joe suddenly announced that he had to call his mom. She works in a military facility in the MidWest which would have much less security than the Pentagon. He would spend the next three hours trying to reach her. I spent them staring at the television, crying. How many children were there? How many people had lost their loved ones? How many families would be devastated by this? My mind raced, and my heart felt like someone had shoved an icepick directly into it and kept twisting. I couldn't begin to imagine the pain of watching your loved one's death scene played out on television. What about the couples who had argued that morning, never to be able to make up? Children whose last memory of Mom would be of her rushing them to get ready so she could get to her job at the Trade Center? How do humans endure such overwhelming sadness and pain?

As the hours played out across the screen, I never moved. Joe raced through the house, frantically trying to do things- reach his mother, find someplace to donate blood, anything to keep moving. I found out later that many people called families to tell them that they loved them- that never crossed my mind. I just stared, unable to comprehend the depths of hatred that could do this. The thing that angered me is that for a short period of time, this made me HATE. Not just the terrorists, but all Palestinians. I am not equipped with a strong hate response, and the fact that for a while I hated an entire group of people still makes me ashamed and damn mad. How fucking dare you take lives of people you didn't know? You did not strengthen your fucking cause, you stupid bastards, you made a nice, loving schoolteacher from the MidWest hate you and hate your children. Do you really think that making me hate you is the way to solve our differences? I have never said this and meant it in my life, but I HOPE EVERY ONE OF YOU MOTHERFUCKERS SPENDS ETERNITY BURNING IN THE PIT OF HELL, WHILE ABLE TO SEE THE BEAUTY OF THE LIVES THAT YOU DESTROYED. I hope your children see the fallacy of your actions and denounce you as the heretics you truly are.

I have since gotten past my anger toward all Palestinians. To remain angry and blame them would be the same as the hatred that caused people to crash airplanes into buildings that contained average people who had no voice in our nation's policies. Joe never recovered from his hatred and anger. He wanted a war to destroy an entire group of people. I can not rationalize dropping bombs on women and children who also have had no voice in their leader's policies.
One of my friends from India could not understand why Americans stayed so angry for so long; after all, terrorism is a fact of life for most people. I think part of it is our arrogance. We never expected anyone to have the balls to attack us at home. Part of it is our sense of fair play. We never expected average citizens to be targeted. Whatever the cause, I am still angry. However, I try to use that anger to educate my students about the effects of violence and the importance of solving problems with words and compromise. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't, but I keep trying.
Today I will cry. I will cry for every life taken unfairly. I will cry for every person who lost someone they loved. I will cry for the sense of openness and freedom that we no longer enjoy. And I will cry for the hatred and blindness that drove our world so far out of its path. "

Today

This post has been removed because I refuse to get into a political arguement at my own fucking blog. If you disagree with me, that is fine; you are free to express that so long as you treat me with respect. However, (Beth, please pay attention), DO NOT read bits and pieces of a post, and try to tell me that A) I am racist or B) I have never read The Bill of Rights or the Patriot Act. To the rest of you who read and understood this post, I hope that by sharing my own reactions to these attacks helps you to deal with your own feelings. Dan- hope you're feelling better soon. Jason- I'm going to read the letter when I get a minute. JD and Derek- as always, thanks for stopping by.

Oh, What a Beautiful Morning

At 4:30, a slight click, then Bob Marley's "One Love" start my day. It's a beautiful song, and a great way to wake up. I hit the snooze once so I can listen to the entire song, then I climb out of bed to start my day. The dog refuses to open his eyes yet, so I have no demands on me at this time of the morning. I start the coffee on the way to let nature flush the toxins from my body. I wash my face and hands, then pour some coffee and load it with creamer.

As I leave at 5:30, the sun is only beginning to make itself known. Driving east, I'm awed by the beauty of a light fog over the golden brown cornfields as the sky slowly changes from lavendar to peach and yellow before the first rays of sunlight appear. As I drive, I think that this is what Heaven must be like. In the distance, I see a red light that has never been there before. It is a stoplight- the bridge is down to one lane as road "construction" has begun on it. A minor annoyance, but I hum to myself as I wait for it to change. And wait. And wait... After seven minutes, I decide it is broken, and begin to go. Suddenly, there is a car barrelling through and I am forced to retreat about six feet to avoid a head-on collision. I slip through, and continue on my journey, shaken but still content; it's Friday, and all is well with the world.

Six miles down the road, there is a sign that says that no passing zones aren't striped for the next 15 miles. No biggie; there aren't many people on the road at this time, and I'm not in a rush. Suddenly, there is a loud rumbling from the tires, and the car is lurching back and forth. A flat tire I think. But, no, the top layer has been stripped down to the "Rough Grooved Surface" as the next sign tells me. Forced to slow down, I'm a little peeved, but hey, these things happen, right? The road is stripped all the way to where I turn off, although the construction ends fifteen feet past my exit. "Fuckers" I mutter, and continue on my way.

I'm going a few miles over the limit, trying to make up for lost time when I see yet another unfamiliar red light in the distance. "You have got to be fucking kidding me," I say aloud as I am forced to sit at another one-lane road for four minutes. On my way again, as I finish out my fifty-mile drive by catching every light on red and being directly behind some jackass who rearended the guy in front of him. No one looked hurt, so fuck 'em, I had to go. By the time I reached school, I was swearing like a fucking sailor at anything and everything I saw. I walk into my room, and Nina bops in, looking like an Ivy League Barbie. "Good Morning! Isn't it a beautiful day?" She chirps in that fucking annoying way of hers. I mutter something and she continues with her chipper babbling. I realize then that I will cut out her vocal cords with a spoon one of these days- it's inevitable. Oh, did I mention, she lives exactly two blocks from the school? When I'm leaving for work, she's dreaming of the good ship Lollipop, or some such shit. Thank God for Dena, who lives an hour away, too- she slinks in, coffee down her blouse and gives Nina the stinkeye. Nina is oblivious, and Dena and I exchange a look that I know means she will help me hide the body.

Happy Friday, everyone.

I'm a MILF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Ok, I have to share this story with you, because it has made my week (to paraphrase Mark Twain, I can live for two weeks off of a good compliment)! Yesterday evening, I was sitting on my patio talking to Kevin (Neighbor's son), when I noticed the really cute guy from down the street walking by. I have noticed him all summer- looks to be in his early twenties; too young to date, but old enough to lust after. He saw Kevin and came up to talk to him. Let me just say, this guy is BEAUTIFUL; dark, curly hair, on the thin side, but toned, and best of all--- he has a beautiful dark trail of hair descending from his belly button *sigh*. Anyway, Kev introduces me to "Chris", and we say hello. He is in college, studying music. Kevin ran home to get a CD for him and we talked for a little while. He asked if I was in school, and I told him I teach. He seemed surprised by that. I found out he is a FRESHMAN in college, making him about 18, and I began to feel like a dirty old woman.

Then it happened; HE ASKED ME OUT!!! On a date!! I asked him if he knew how old I was, and he responded with, "Well, since you've graduated, I guess you're about 22 or 23, but that's really not much difference, I'll be 18 in a week". Folks, if I've never mentioned it, I'm 37. I realize that I didn't have my hair done or makeup on, which makes me look younger, but 23?????? Oh, Dear God, he's not even LEGAL yet, I felt sooooo dirty. When I told him how old I am, he blushed deeply and his eyes bugged (his parents are probably my age). Kevin got back and Chris took the CD and quickly left. Kevin asked me what was wrong, and I told him. He was also shocked at my age, and said he, too would have thought I was early twenties. Let me just tell you all--- I had to lube up my head to get it through my front door last night!!!

I'm Back!!!

Hi, everyone! Sorry it took me so long to get back here, I'm trying to get into a routine and it takes a whiile. I hope you all had a great week-- I know I did! I can't tell you how much I love my kids and my school. I realize that this is the "honeymoon" period, and things may be different by midterm, but I'm just going to enjoy this as much as I can. I've never had a school year start off with so many kids that I really like right off the bat. Usually it takes some time to get to know them. My principal has no problems with me playing music during class (most do); as he put it, "you are a professional and it's YOUR class- do what you want". This is the first class that totally feels like an expression of me, and I think that helps me to be more relaxed. Of course, nothing is perfect... six freaking copiers, and not one works! Welcome to public education, folks! Since I couldn't make up the puzzle packets that I wanted to do, we watched some coverage of Hurricane Francis and discussed hurricanes and other extreme weather. I'm not planning on teaching weather until later in the year, but hey, it was there, and they were interested. In fact, my two lowest-level classes were enthralled with it, and asked some really intelligent questions.

There is one teacher in the science department (who I think is going to be named our dept. head) that is a psychotic bitch. She is soooooo phony-nice that I want to puke. Just from observing her, it would seem that she has a dislike for African-American kids, especially the boys. She says things that break my heart, but I don't know what I can do. She is tenured, so if I were to go to the administration, there is nothing they could do but talk to her, and then she'll be pissed at me. So, those poor kids have to sit in her room...*sigh*. I mean, if you don't like black kids, why the fuck are you teaching at an urban school? She's also one of those old women who wears too much make up and talks in a fake high voice... makes my skin crawl.

Otherwise, I LOVE everyone in the science department. There are two girls straight from college, Nina and Dena. They are really enthusiastic and energetic, and loads of fun. There's a woman who is also in the army reserve, Andi. She's sarcastic and realistic and extremely knowledgable about physics, so I'll be bugging her when I get to that. Finally, there's Bill. Bill is the dad we all wish we'd had. He's smart, and funny, and easy-going. This is his last year, and I think it will be a great loss to the kids. We're all kind of isolated from the rest of the classes, only interacting with our individual teams from the "outside world", as we call the academic wing. They separate us so that if we blow up, we don't take the whole school! We have a lot of fun, and I'm rediscovering practical jokes (I know it was Bill who glued all of my pencils in the holder, even if he swears it was Nina!) . Do you remember the video for the song, "No Rain" by Blind Melon? Where the little girl in the bee costume is searching for a place to fit in, and in the end she finds a field of people in bee costumes? I feel like I've found my bee field! I hope you all feel this way when you go to your jobs. If not, start looking for something else- it's amazing how fast my days fly by, and how much I look forward to going back. I hate to sound depressing, but I'm hoping that this will last. Have a great weekend!