Whistlin'

I thought it was funny yesterday when I noticed that I whistle fairly regularly while walking down the halls of school, but what I whistle is pretty unusual stuff for the halls of a junior high school in the hood. Yesterdays playlist included Nirvana's "Nevermind," Sublime's "Date Rape," and Queen's "Bohemian Rhapsody."

I was experimenting with food tonight, and dinner was Chipotle polenta with greens and butternut squash. It was pretty good, but I wouldn't serve it to guests, because after it was all put together I noticed how similar in color and texture the polenta and squash were. Still, it was nicely spicy, and I added fake sausage to the greens.

I also got handy around the house. I needed a plate for the doorjamb to make my lock work, so I bought a light switchplate (yeah, YOU find the right hardware for doors installed in the 40s), jury-rigged it big time (broke several pieces off, hammered it flat), then drilled into my doorjamb and installed the damned thing. I also put picture wire on the back of a big mirror and hung it sideways (much more aesthetically pleasing than it was vertically).

Now I want popcorn, or something salty. Mmmm.

Even keel

Well, things must be getting back to normal in the old psyche, because several bad or sort-of-bad things happened today, yet I'm not freaking out, and actually feel pretty okay and relaxed about it. My car got keyed at school. Well, I was going to have to take it to the shop anyway to get another ding fixed. I have a mega-busy day (school, drama club, poetry reading, back-to-school night, and birthday celebration with friends) which will keep me from my home from approximately 7:30 this morning until well after 9 tonight. And at the poetry reading, no-one showed. Well, that's not entirely accurate. Mom was there, and Piggs. Oh, and the guy who organized it, Evan. I assume it wasn't some outright rejection of me, though. Rather, it was probably a combo of bad time and location, because even if people don't show up to hear an unknown featured reader, they usually stand in line to read their own stuff at an open mike, and nobody seemed to be there for that purpose, either.

We're a few minutes from being inundated with parents (ha ha, just kidding!) so I'm going out to the car to get my book so I'm not bored. Bye!

Other people's houses

I went on the East Sac Remodel tour yesterday. It was fun -- kind of a smaller tour than usual with only 6 houses (and we skipped one due to a Hatfield/McCoy type feud), but there were definitely mixed results. Most of the houses looked nice, although I'm not into taking some 1940s home and putting in granite countertops (which it seems like nearly everyone does). One had a cool kitchen, and they'd kept the original cabinetry as much as possible, and even matched the new moulding to the old stuff. It was amusing though, because I could walk through the rooms going "Pottery Barn, Pottery Barn, Pottery Barn . . ." I'm serious, the mirrors, the light fixtures, the draperies, the rugs. Actually, several of the places had really recognizable PB stuff, but this one practically looked like the PB model home or something. On the sad end was a house that a divorced guy had built that was huge -- something like 3500 sq. ft., but totally un-lived in. For example, the designer (and you could tell the whole place was professionally designed) had chosen several frames, and the guy hadn't put any pictures in them, so there were all these empty frames, or frames with the Target models still in them. It felt so lonely.
The funniest one by far though (and by funny, I mean in the disturbing way) was a house that when you walked in, had all this white furniture, and rose-colored walls. As you went in further, it turned out that EVERYTHING was rose-colored and white and flowery and chintz and toile and feminine and HORRIBLE. AAAHHH! I wanted to run away screaming. Fuzzy white carpet. Flowers. Lavender bathroom. Pink girl's bedroom. We started theorizing that it must have been a single woman that lived there, until we saw the family photos -- a dude lives there, too! A dude poops in the lavender potpourri bathroom! There is not a single comfy leather recliner or sand-colored wall in the place. The guy has got to be either totally emasculated or cheating. Poor thing. Even worse, was they had those Glade Plug-ins all over the house -- there were like twenty of them choking me with their stinking floral reek. Could your house possibly smell bad enough to need those things? Even if you have a dog? What's that about, anyway?

Okay, I need to get away from electronic media (TV and internet) and get to my book, "Round Ireland with a Fridge," about exactly that. Dude makes a bet that he can hitchhike all around the perimeter of Ireland while toting a refrigerator, and that people are nice enough that they'll stop and pick him up. It's funny so far, but I'm barely into it. G'night, all.

Sweet relief!

Oh my god, it's 7th period, and I have time to blog, because they're all working quietly. All of them! I just walked around and checked. They're all doing it right, too! Today has been a much better day, for those of you who were considering calling the authorities on me. I still have a lot to do after school today (at least 6 parent phone calls and quite a bit of grading) but it's a meeting-less day, so I might still get out of here by 3:30! It's a miracle. Also, Melvin moved. Heh.

Omens, Swiffer, and good stuff

So, I should have known yesterday was going to be a bad day when they didn't have any fat-free muffins left at the coffee shop a full 20 minutes before I usually get there. Then I was reading the paper, and there was some mention of Robert Downey Jr. covering the Yes song "Your Move," ("move me onto any black square, use me any time you want . . .) and that piece of prog rock shit got stuck in my head.

I gave in and bought the Swiffer. It didn't change my life. Maybe because I got the generic Target version. The dry part was okay, except you still need to get out the broom and dustpan to pick up the pile of junk. It does cut down on that thing that happens at the end of the brush-stroke, though, when you kick dust up into the air. The wet Swiff was only okay, as it was rather impossible to put any pressure on the floor, so I ended up kind of stepping on it to add some muscle. What I wondered though, was whether I was swiffering or swiffing. Later, would I say "oh, I swiffered the floor today" or "I swiffed the floor?" I guess it depends on whether the "er" in Swiffer is a morpheme, that is, a syllable with its own meaning, or just a phonemic unit. Like, I mow the lawn with the lawn mowER (I actually have a gardener, it's just an example). I clean with cleanERs. I dusted with the dustER. But I also vacuum with the vaccuum and iron with the iron. Is Swiffer more like whole name of the tool or does it describe the action of swiffing? Swiff, to swiff, I swiff, he swiffed, she is swiffing, they shall swiff, the swiffer. One can only guess.

I got a copy of a CD that Jim McClain burned at the Gynas' most recent show, and it pretty much rocks. I mean, we're not guitar gods or nothing, but it captured the spirit of Gyna pretty well, and as Jim put it "You guys are fun, and you don't suck."

I also saw a marquee on the Colonial Theatre advertising "SPW Wrestlin." Now, the fine folks at SPW might argue that they deserve a "g," but I found it wholly appropriate, and probably wouldn't argue if it was spelled "rasslin."

I'm not unstressed yet, but I've made some choices that have helped. Like, I am trying to recognize that, despite the well-intentioned slogan "no child left behind," it is just not my job to drag them kicking and screaming. They've gotta put in some effort, and if they choose not to, I'm gonna take the field trip to education-land with the rest of the class, and leave their unwilling ass behind in the vice-principal's office. Also, I'm trying real hard to do what I feel like doing, not do what I don't, and not yell at myself about it later. I skipped two ballet classes this week because I needed some time at home to rest (I'm nursing a sinus infection), and didn't make either of them up today, and I'm obstinately not yelling at myself for having done so. Also, yesterday I completely dismissed my Weight Watchers points, but I decided I just can't have a day like that and come home and deny myself some Ben and Jerry's frozen yogurt in favor of a nice glass of water. Fuck it. There's only so much I can do at once, and right now, my mental health is falling overboard. I need to concentrate on saving that. Everything else can be safely put on hold. Okay, Mockula out.

Living vicariously

I've decided to live vicariously through Mac. Mac is my neighbor. Mac teaches at a school in a juvenile detention facility. I said, "Mac, what do you do when the students talk back?" He says "They don't talk back." I said "But what if they do?" He says "They get removed from the class and I don't see them all day.' "Wow," I said. "Want a job?" he said? Maybe . . .
I totally threw a hissyfit in class today. Here's just a sample of a few minutes of a two-hour block.

Me (demonstrating): Okay, fold your paper like this.
Kid: What paper?
Me: The one you just got out. Okay, now fold it like this (demonstrating to all).
Kid: What are we doing?
Me: We're folding. Okay, now fold it again (demonstrating) like this.
Several kids: What!!! I tore mine! I thought we were supposed to tear it in half! Aw, man, can I have another sheet of paper?
Me: Yes, here you are. Now just fold like this . . .
Kid: Can I go to the bathroom?
Me: No, we don't have bathroom passes in this class.
Kid: I gotta go!
Another kid: He gotta go!
Another kid: Man that, ain't right. Why can't he go?
Me: We don't have bathroom passes in this class because you just got here and you have a break again soon. And I've said that 12 days in a row, now.
Kid: I haven't asked all 12 days. I was absent Tuesday.
Me: You're right, I'm sorry. Now open your papers . . .
Kid: Man, you always be accusing me of stuff I didn't do. How come we can't go to the bathroom anyway?
Me: Because you just got to school five minutes ago. Now open your papers. You have 8 sections now, 4 on the front, 4 on the back . . .
Kid: I only have 4.
Me: No, look. (Pointing and counting at side one) 1, 2, 3, 4 (flipping paper) 5, 6, 7, 8.
Kid: Why you always gotta treat us like we dumb? Like, ONE, TWO. Shoot, I know how to count!
Me: I certainly didn't mean to imply you were dumb. I was just showing you again because someone asked.
Kid: That was me.
Another kid: You dumb!
Me: No, we don't talk like . . .
Kid (singing): OH BAAABEEEEY WHY . . .
Me: No singing in class please.
Kid: What are we doing?

Yeah, for two hours straight. I'm usually ready to quit or hang myself by the end of period 2. I seriously considered walking out today for mental health reasons. Grrrr. Anyway, I'm now going to do my best not to think of them again until Monday morning, when I have to look at their shining little mugs again. I checked the job listings today -- there's a new high school in town that has three positions open for Language Arts teachers . . .

The Governator

My governor is a fuckwit.
Okay, so not everyone agrees on the whole "Redskins" issue. I can respect healthy disagreement. My personal opinion is that using names like that for teams and mascots is degrading to American Indians, and that we wouldn't name a team the Fighting Kikes or the L.A. Wetbacks, so we probably should back off from using team names that degrade any group. But many people disagree with me, and I'm okay with that. Still, to veto a measure banning the name (a very reasonable measure that gives teams until 2006 to change) by calling it "silly," is a bit beyond the pale. Is the gov indicating that it is silly to address issues of cultural sensitivity?
Let's talk about silly for a minute -- this is the man who has used his movie tag lines in stump speeches. This is the guy who sued someone using his likeness on a bobblehead doll. This is the guy who helped flood the Capitol building by having artificial turf laid over the drainage grates in his "smoker's patio" at the Capitol. Silly indeed.

First the good news

Okay, the good news is first because I need to remind myself of it so I don't go ballistic. I attended a wedding reception in sunny (ha) Portland Oregon last weekend, and not only was it lovely, I am very happy for the couple. In addition, I was thrilled to spend time with the members of Piggs' family who were able to attend. I also just had a good time with sweetie and his/our friends, too. I feel really enriched by the people in his life. They're all interesting, great people that I'm happy to know.
Also, my mom had a birthday this weekend, and we had a nice (though smaller than usual) celebration. I made a German's Chocolate cake )go look at the package, I'm right) that came out wonderfully. In fact, while I was making the frosting, it was storming out, and the frosting wasn't setting up right, so I was mentally preparing myself for the third worst cake ever (#1 -- the one that wouldn't de-pan properly and was served as a large pile of crumbs, #2, the frosting never set up and the wet part sank into the cake, while the coconut and pecans sat in a dry heap on top), but as it turned out, I just had to cook it for about 30 minutes longer than usual, and it turned out great. The cake itself was extra fluffy, too. I think she had a good birthday. She seemed to like my presents, which always thrills me. And the only time every year that she eats her very favorite ice cream is on her birthday, and I was able to pick that up, too. Yay!
Monkeygirl got a cute duplex. I can't wait to help her move, buy her housewarming presents, and hang out there with her. I will really miss her as a roommate (she is by far the BEST roommate ever), but I'm happy that she's getting her own place for the first time in a long time, and I owe her thanks, too, because of why she decided to move out. Which is . . .
Piggs is moving in. I'm excited. I feel really confident and happy about our relationship, and I'm glad to be taking another step.
The band is back together! And getting shows! We had one last week and have another coming up in mid-October, and probably one the first week of November. It's fun to play!

Now for the stressful stuff. First, I am feeling extremely overwhelmed at my job. Partly it's just that it's the beginning of the year, and I have yet to fall into a rythym with the classes. But I also seem to have a lot more things encroaching on my time. I have the liaison committee (which sucks), drama club, the leadership team, house meetings, and department meetings. Now, I had some of these things before, but they've changed -- like the liaison committee: we used to be able to meet during lunch, but now we have different lunch periods, so have to meet after school. Or department meetings, which have doubled from once a month to twice, and changed from taking place during our prep period to after school. Consider that I work about 20 days a month -- that's 17 days out of 20 that I have something scheduled for at least an hour after school. And those hours, even the paid ones, tend to sneak into overtime. Like leadership meetings, for which I get an hour's pay, but which start 15 minutes after school and usually run half an hour or so long. Which, if you're keeping a tally, gets my ass to my car almost 2 hours after school, if I completely skip doing any errands, paperwork, parent phone calls, grading . . . And you know, I still have to do all that stuff at some time.
I'm also still cranky about my weight, and I have a sore throat and a constantly stuffy nose (I might have a sinus infection), plus my ankle and shoulder are both a little sore, and just in general I'm feeling a little emotional and tired. It's probably all stress-related, and I need to chill out. I have ballet in an hour, but I might skip it just to have some time where I'm not on the go. Still, that makes me feel guilty, because I need the exercise and also because I know that going usually makes me feel better. But when I think of running around gathering all my ballet stuff, driving across town through traffic, and getting home after 8 my head hurts.
Also, I'm a little worried about money. I'm not totally without money, it's just that I wanted to pay off my couch and then save all the rest of it for a future vacation, but I also needed some career clothes, and soon I will need a new toilet, printer, and bed. Which would EASILY eat up all my savings and more, even with sweetie helping where appropriate.
Ugh. That's all for now, I've just been so busy I haven't even had time to write! I had to get some of this off my chest. Thanks for reading if you did. -- The Count.

School and chaos

Well, Miss S may have an uphill battle this year. We had our first house meeting this year with the new house members, and oh my goodness!! Okay, you know how some people have a tendency to start speaking while other people are not yet finished? I have THREE of those in my house (small learning community) this year. So there is an average of three people talking at once at any given time. And what these people don't seem to understand is that if you haven't heard all of what the other person was saying before you start to talk, you are often addressing a subject you don't know enough about, or are addressing the wrong issue. I find this irritating to say the least. Perhaps the funniest moment today (funny in an exasperating way) was when, after we had covered all the agenda items, I asked if anyone else had any other items. Mrs. R did. Five items. We volunteer our time for these meetings, and typically end them at around 2:20 (an hour of volunteered time per week). I was done at 2:15 (and would have been done earlier had the union rep not visited and taken 10 minutes), and Mrs. R's five items took about another 15 minutes (now it's 2:30), and the final item was (no kidding) whether our meetings usually ended promptly or whether they dragged on past the scheduled time, because she had to pick up her kids and it was really important that she got out on time. Huff.

The kids are another matter entirely. We already have 17 kids we want to schedule parent meetings for, and the worst by far is my little friend Melvin. Oh yeah -- if you're a friend of mine, you may have heard of Melvin last year, before he got kicked out of school because of his behavior. Well, he's back. It's kind of odd, because he can be very polite, often calls me "ma'am," and promises me nearly every day at lunch that he's really going to try to be better today. So I don't think he's malicious, nevertheless, he's by far one of the most disruptive children I have ever taught. If a thought comes into his head, it also comes out of his mouth. He stands up. All the time. He giggles. He does pratfalls. He embarasses himself to amuse the other kids. He dances. He slaps his head loudly. And the worst is, if I gently say "Melvin, please don't talk while I'm talking," instead of just saying "okay, sorry," he says "I wasn't, I was just, no, Khiry was, what? Miss S., I wasn't, I didn't mean to . . . " This can last several minutes and often does.

I also have three different "preps," meaning three different things I'm teaching, including two I've never really taught before (although one is a program I've taught before, just extended by an hour and using additional materials). I'm packed to the gills with students -- one class has two more students than chairs. I'm a little stressed right now, but I'm hoping that evens out a little as time goes on. Probably the most troubling thing right now is that the lowest kids (the ones who scored Below Basic or Far Below Basic on the California Standards tests) are in a program called High Point, which is really geared towards elementary school students. Tomorrow's lesson? Fill in a subject in a sentence like this "_______ drew a picture." There are four of these. Whew! Hard work! Okay, I'm actually feeling a little too stressed to keep talking about this. I think I'll have a snack and play some Tetris.
Bye all.

First day of school

It's the first day, it's my prep period, and I only have one more class to go. So far it has been really nice to see all my students from last year again. That's what I like best about tracking or looping, is getting to see how much progress and growth kids can make in two years. I'm really excited about this year, and I have so much I want to do with them, like help them reach the 8th grade standard of reading one million words by the end of the year. It's hard to keep track of, there's a lot of work involved, but I think we can make it fun, too. I need to get some planning done (I have a sub for Thursday and Friday so I can attend a wedding in Tahoe), but just wanted to update quickly. I really think it's going to be a good year.

I'm bloggin', yessiree, and I'm talkin', 'bout you and me . . .

And Fleetwood Mac, Calvin pissing stickers, gum, maybe other things . . .

Okay, so we're in Trader Joe's this morning, and music rarely gets past me, so I always notice what's playing over the speakers, and this morning it was Fleetwood Mac's "Go Your Own Way." Well, a month or so ago, I felt pretty stupid for purchasing said song over iTunes, along with Rhiannon, Gold Dust Woman and Landslide. But you know, they're only a dollar on iTunes -- I spend more on gum, so I figured what the hell. But back to this morning, they're playing it in Trader Joe's, and I'm over by the Powerbars and I hear two women singing along with the chorus. "You can go your own way!" they emphatically intone, then kind of giggle. I pick up a couple Pria bars and head to the cereal to get more Peanut Butter Panda Puffs (I don't know why I'm all over the brand names today, just go with me) and glance at the Gorilla Crunch, when the chorus comes around again, and I hear a woman's voice (not a member of the Mac) singing "You can go your own way!" in an enthusiastic fashion. I turn, expecting to see the two women of a minute ago, but no, it's someone new. Since I myself had been singing along a minute before, I start to wonder how this song has seeped into the collective unconcious so pervasively. It's kind of sick. And even weirder . . . that line and the one after it ("you can call it another lonely day") are the only lyrics I know, and I kind of have the feeling I'm not alone.

Hey, speaking of music, my grandma wanted me to help her get some pictures off her digital camera and printed, and most of them are of an awards ceremony I went to 18 months ago. So she wants me to print them for her (for me) all in 8x10, and I'm trying to tell her that the ink and photo paper are expensive, and that anyway I really don't need 8x10s of me with, like, my professors, but she insists. So now I've twenty seven eight-by-ten colour glossy photographs with circles and arrows and a paragraph on the back of each one explaining what each one was to be used as evidence against me. Just kidding, but that's what I think of every time I look at them and try to decide what to do with them, and if you are not currently singing "Step right up it's around the back, just a half a mile from the railroad track, you can get anything you want . . . " then you won't know what I'm talking about anyway.

Calvin pissing stickers have been around for awhile, so I'm a little late blogging about them I guess, but they have generally irritated me since their inception, mainly because I've read all the introductions to all the Bill Watterson Calvin & Hobbes collections, and I know that he never authorized any merchandise, so he's not seeing any money from these, besides the fact that they're kind of antithetical to the spirit of the strip, which I always enjoyed. Still, I just accepted that this is how our culture works sometimes -- people need to express their distate for Ford, or the Raiders, or whatever. I got even more agitated when I saw Calvin praying, which is just ridiculous. If you've got a Calvin praying sticker, have you ever even read the strip? Know what it's about? Its like having a picture of Michael Newdow embroidered onto your American flag. Yay, I'm going to have a picture of William Burroughs on my car with a halo and praying hands. That's fuckin' strange. Calvin as a girl is even weirder. It's like no one even remembers where the figure came from anymore. But now, oh now I have seen it all. Literally everything, as Calvin pissing stickers have him pissing on the word "everything." Yeah. Now, I get negativity, I understand the glass is half empty philosophy, I can even comprehend misanthropy, but hating and denigrating everything? It seems like it's going a tad too far. Like, you're saying you hate homemade strawberry ice cream, hugs, Calvin stickers, nice weather, clear roadways, tax refund checks, oral sex, good coffee, air conditioning, your mom, babies, and everything . . . EVERYTHING. Now maybe you DO hate a lot of things, but everything? Seriously? Then go kill yourself. That's all that's left for you. If you didn't even get a temporary thrill out of sticking your Calvin pissing sticker on your car, if you were hating it even as you did it, then there is no hope. It will never get better. The world will be a better place without you in it. Calvin is pissing on your grave.

I like gum. I'm a pretty regular gum chewer. Generally I like minty flavors and cinnamon-y flavors, and the stronger the better. Not too long ago, a thought struck me -- lemon flavored gum! Wouldn't that be refreshing? Mmmm, lemons and gum. And then a few weeks later, I saw Eclipse Lemon Ice. No way! My dream come true! And upon testing the product, I was even more pleased and satisfied, as it fulfilled all my lemony refreshing gum requirements. Delicious! Now, generally when I choose my gum, I'm looking for strong mint flavor, so I go for dark blue packages. I don't know why, but across the brands, dark blue is the code for strong minty goodness. But with the advent of lemon gum, I decided to branch out. I was willing to go crazy. I looked over the descriptions of the Eclipse gum, Refreshingly Minty, Distinctly Cool, Pleasantly Intense, Sweetly Powerful, Surprisingly Fresh, and Uniquely Soothing. I couldn't tell which mint was most likely to be strong. Is "pleasantly intense" more or less intense than "sweetly powerful." I would have to call their descriptions "frightfully unhelpful." But still, I was so pleased with the lemon gum that I decided to give their "Cherry Chill: Uniquely Soothing" gum a chance. I am now "deeply regretful." That shit is foul, ladies and gentlemen. It tastes like Robitussin. I almost coughed and took my temperature just out of habit. See, cough syrup doesn't taste good just because they color it red and put a picture of a cherry on the bottle. You still have to shoot it, then shake your head around and stick your tongue out. It's like watching a 14-year old try whiskey each time I take a shot of DayQuil. Usually the sound effect is "GAAAAAHHHHHWHuggawhuggawhuuuuuuu." And this Cherry Chill? It's like that. How can they market something this disgusting? Well, they still sell those dried salted plums in the Mexican markets, so I guess there are some people out there with freakish tastebuds. Man. Nasty gum. Whuguggugugugggwhhuuuu.

Yesterday I was having one of those up-and-down days. Like, good breakfast, but sucky service. Good time with friends at band practice, but I forgot some lyrics and thought the tempo on one song was screwy. My cat got out, got onto the roof, and I had a hard time getting her down, and while searching for her, I fell and conked my head on some bricks. But then I got her down and corralled in the house. I was having dinner with my sweetie, but while getting dressed for dinner, my evil brain was saying really mean things to me about being too fat. Then my stepmom called and said she had something for me. When she and my dad showed up, they had a check. A big check! Apparently, she was the beneficiary to a will of a friend she'd been taking care of. I didn't even know him, so I certainly don't feel entitled to any of the money, but they said that all three of us (my stepbrother and stepsister) all got the same, and I accepted it. I was pretty stunned. At first, I was like "shit, I can get all that stuff on my wish list from the other day!" But then I decided that I'll pay off my Pottery Barn couch with half of it and sock the other half away. That was I'm not paying interest on the Pottery Barn card, and can save money each month that I would have paid toward that bill. So maybe in a couple months (after the Xmas presents are bought), I WILL get that ocean kayak I've been wanting. 'Cause I'll be like a grown-up, with no debt beside the house and car, and will be able to save some money, a long-elusive goal. Wow. I'm still stunned. I pretty much ran to the bank to put it in so I didn't do anything stupid and me-like with the check. Dang. Wow.

Mockula out.

Random thoughts

Okay, so school's starting soon. I went to two workshops this week. Yesterday's was with Ernie Stachowski, who is a soft-spoken, energetic older man (in fact, we dragged him out of semi-retirement) who mainly gives common-sense, easy-to-understand trainings on issues like lesson planning and classroom management. Yesterday's was primarily focused on creating objectives for each lesson, since students need to understand where they're going in order to get there. I had a training from him years ago and he illustrated this beautifully be taking a participant by the hand and walking him around several desks, the projector, up to the front of the room. Since the gentleman didn't know where he was going, there was a lot of stumbling and surprise stops. The second time, Ernie said "Okay, first we're going to go here, then around here, then left up there, and we're stopping at the front of the room. This time, of course, it went smoothly. See, it all seems very common sense (Duh, tell the kids what you're trying to teach them!), but even in college classes it often doesn't happen, and you leave thinking "What the hell was that all about?"

Today the training was in a program called "Step up to Writing." It seems like a good program -- it is basically the exact method I already use, but with transparencies, posters, and all the materials already made, plus a nice system of color-coding. I'll be interested to see how it goes. It's always difficult when administration says "Hey, I know you're already pressed for time with the program we're using now, but could you add a whole 'nother program on top of it?"

Some goals for this year:
Stay in more contact with the parents. I always intend to make phone calls to the good kids just to say hi and tell the parents how great they are, but then I never have time, because the more challenging kids seem to need the calls more desperately.

Keep the classroom looking tidy, and keep only the most current work on the walls (it's so easy to fall into the trap of getting some really great-looking work in September and keeping it up forever).

Get even more organized with grades -- over the last several years I have taken ot from a whole-life task (taking papers to the coffee shop every evening and weekend) to a mostly-at-school-during-prep task. What I'd like to do now is do an even better job of using the work I grade to give feedback and re-teach as necessary.

Dress more professionally. I never look like a scuzball, but the first couple years, I was pretty poor, and then I went from fat to not fat, and none of my clothes fit, but I couldn't afford to replace my whole wardrobe at once, so I wore ill-fitting clothes. Also, I am lazy, and whereas in the beginning of the year I press my clothes and wear jeans only on casual Friday, by mid-Fall I tend to leave the house un-ironed, with curly hair (it usually looks better if I take the time to blow-dry it straight), no make-up, and in jeans or other casual pants three days a week.

Other interesting school notes -- my cousin Allen will be attending my school this year. His mom can't pick him up until 3:30, so I think he might hang out with me in my room after school, which is cool.
I will be teaching drama, but it will be after-school, and not five days a week (the actual schedule is yet to be determined). It will also be for extra money, maybe a couple hundred a month, which will be nice. I also just got my transcripts turned in, so I'll be getting a little extra moolah for having an M.A. Yay me!

Other non-school notes -- I bought a new desk at Target and have transferred almost everything from my old desk to my new one. I still need to go through some stuff that looks suspiciously like junk. It's great, though, because it takes up a lot less room than my old desk, so I can turn my office into a guest room eventually!
I feel very greedy when I do this, but every once in a while I create a wish list, and it's usually a mix of stuff and projects. I'm sharing it this time.
I want:
to finish painting my bedroom.
to paint the office.
to clear space in my closet for a sweetie's wardrobe.
an ocean kayak.
several plants for the yard, including hydrangeas, gardenias, jasmine (more), some dwarf citrus trees, and a japanese maple.
to get rid of a couple old, dead, ugly trees.
more professional, well-fitting clothes.
to lose 20-25 pounds.
a new fireplace screen and a log holder.
a new queen size bed.
a new scanner/printer.
to get involved in community-supported agriculture again.
to read more new young adult literature (I already read quite a bit, but want to read more)
to replace my carpeting with laminate flooring.
to paint most of the rest of the house (the white paint has an odd pink tinge)
to make it to my favorite hot springs at least once every two months.
to travel more (my recent trip gave me the travel bug!).
to simplify -- my garage is FULL, and I could only name what's on about three shelves -- Xmas decor, camping stuff, and tools. What's all the other shit?
to build several large planter boxes on the side of my house and get soaker hoses so that next summer I can have an even more rockin' garden and grow more stuff.

I think that's it for now. I'm just a big wanter. I want stuff. It's materialistic, but having a nice house, especially, makes me feel secure. Oh well. Take care everybody!
K