Goodbye, 2005

Pretty predictable, huh? But how can you not . . .

With no numbering system and only fairly generic categories, here goes the best of 2005.

Favorite stuff
I got married!
Mom and I pretty much made over my house (although we've still got stuff to do).
I got a new job and I like it.

Favorite eats
Gunther's (I still like Vics, but we went to Gunther's a lot, so it gets the nod).
Malouf's Taste of Lebanon (about once a week -- spinach pie, lentil soup, falafel, labneh . . .)
Kamon. Every Saturday night - I think we missed it about four times this year when we were out of town.
Fox and Goose for breakfast.
Cafe Bernardo for breakfast, too.
Tres Hermanas, whenever I can get it.

Best buy
Tie between my cool new armchair and the reproduction Stickley side table

Best books I read this year
The Time Traveller's Wife - Niffenberger (I liked the characters so much I missed them when it was over.)
The Things They Carried - O'Brien (Read it for school, but it was fantastic.)
Where I was From - Didion (Thought provoking. I can't wait to start the new one.)
Memoirs of a Geisha - Golden (Yeah, yeah. I liked it, I don't care.)
Candyfreak -- Almond (Lightweight, but very interesting and funny.)
Plan B - Lamott (More of the same as in Travelling Mercies. But I like the same.)


Best Albums I bought this year (almost none of which were released this year)
American Idiot -- Green Day
Poor Little Critter on the Road -- The Knitters
Get Behind Me Satan -- The White Stripes
Good News for People who Love Bad News -- Modest Mouse
The Moon and Antartica -- Modest Mouse
Dead 60s -- The Dead 60s
Let's Do Something We'll Both Regret - Rock the Light
Mezmerize -- System of a Down (I will not apoligize for liking this!!!)
Sounds of Violence -- Th' Losin Streaks
Create or Die -- Whiskey Rebels
And I'm much too lazy to get up and look at the titles, but I got CDs from Ira and the Velvet Fury, too.

Best movies I watched:
Hotel Rwanda
Walk the Line
Good Night and Good Luck
Crash
Man, my memory sucks! I know I saw other good stuff this year, but I can't remember what!

Overall, this year gets a pretty high score on the old life-o-meter. I welcome 2006, too, though. Let's see what comes.

On Vacation!!!!!

Which means a lot of daytime TV. Here's who I'm ready to kill -- the woman who thinks Hidden Valley Ranch salad dressing powder makes salsa "jazzy . . . pizazzy!" Also, the woman who juggles Tic-Tacs on her tongue and does dog tricks with them. Creepy.

Watched Batman Begins -- not too into it. I mean, it already had a mark against it in my mind because of Christian Bale, who has creeped me out since American Psycho. I suppose that's a testament to his acting ability that I can never get that character out of my head, but seriously, I just can't see him as anything but a . . . freak with tools. And he has creepy teeth. They need to be longer or something.

But then also I kind of had a hard time with suspension of disbelief. Because, you know, the other movies start right away with a superhero dressed like a bat and a villian in a great deal of makeup. So you know what the deal is right away, and can go "Okay, batdude and crazy villain." But this one was more like gritty realism, ghetto mafia-owned town, kid whose parents get killed, Chinese jail, and then "Hey, longtime butler, I'm thinking of becoming a superhero." "Right then, would you like some wheat grass juice? I believe we have an unused corner of the basement. Bat, is it? Shall we call it the Batcave, then?"

That's about it, I guess. I seem to be pretty well booked up this next week. My neck somehow got jacked up while I slept last night, so much so that I really couldn't sleep, and got up at about 5:30 and slept fitfully on the couch. I took a muscle relaxer earlier (well, about 1/4 of one), and I feel a little better. I'm still actually in a lot of pain, but I can move, which is an improvement. This was one of those things where I had to work up a strategy to get off the couch, and it took about 5 minutes. Okay, love and kisses to all.

--K

Oh lord, Mockula's reflecting.

Yeah, well. At the end of the year, even though all it really means is that it's time to buy a new calendar, it's hard to avoid some amount of thinking.

The year started off a little shaky. My purse was stolen from work. Our house got robbed and then my car was stolen. Piggs' dad had to have bypass surgery. My drama club turned out to be a bit of a bust. But then things turned around. None of those things seemed to be too dramatic -- we got our money back for the stuff we lost (although minus some irreplaceable files), I got my car back (with a dent). I even got a new job! And one tough day when I was crying, Piggs tried to make me stop -- by asking me to marry him. I said yes, and made sure he knows that only works once.

We got married in July, I started my new job in September, Mom and I spent months painting and flooring the house this year (we're not done yet, but we've made a lot of progress), everything's been a bit of a whirlwind. Among the interesting developments this year has been the whole MySpace phenomenon. I've gotten back in touch with so many old friends this year, including two (yes, two), I went to elementary school with. I had coffee with a friend from high school, and wondered why I hadn't spent more time with him over the years, since she was moving up north that week! I had two great lunch dates with my 4th grade best friend and hope to have more. I found out that an old friend and I had followed strangely similar paths in life. I was relieved and happy to find that an old high school friend was happily married and starting her own business.

Of course, the friends I've had for years and kept in touch with have had great news this year as well. Monkeygirl is almost done with law school and has a position (at a place she likes) for when she graduates. She also has the most adorable kitten! Gynagirl has gotten promotion after promotion, but even better, she figured out what she wants to do, which is travel around Europe before moving to New York. There is no doubt in anyone's mind that now she's made her decision, she'll make it work. Sora graduated with a degree in Anthropology! We all attended her graduation in the spring and I couldn't be more proud if I'd done it myself. G3 finally got on permanently with Intel, and he and Sora just got a great apartment and seem to be enjoying their first chance (ever) to live together, alone. My old friend Beep and his wife just had a beautiful baby girl. My somewhat less old friends (almost 6 years, though, wow!) C&C (the music factory) had a beautiful girl as well. My cousin and his wife had a gorgeous and handsome boy, and after some initial worries, he is healthy and strong and sure to continue to be.

My brand-new family is doing well. I have never seen a better-looking bunch of kids in my life. We were thrilled that not only were they able to come down for our reception, we got to see them at Thanksgiving as well. Joining the Piggs family this year was one of my greatest gifts.

I'm turning 30 in a few weeks. I'm sure I'll have more to say on that when the time comes, but let's face it, I understand where Gynagirl was coming from. It's that whole "Logan's Run," "Don't trust anyone over 30" thing. It may not be anything but a number, but it's a pretty significant number. And round.

I'm sure there's more to say, but it's lunchtime and the kids have invited me to eat with them, so I'm going. Take care, all, and if I don't say so to you in person, Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, Joyful Solstice, Rockin' Kwanzaa, or Nice Restful Athiest Sunday. Whatever. I'm pro-inclusion!

Catholic fatwa

I kind of gave up on teaching for the next couple days (the kids turned in rough drafts of an essay yesterday and have to turn in a final typed version tomorrow, so there's not much to do here). I'm showing "Millions" instead. It's about two kids who find a huge sack of money. The younger one is a little wierd, like, he's obsessed with saints and keeps having visions of them. It's great so far, although I've seen the first half 5 times and haven't seen the end yet (ah, teaching).
Anyway, at one point, Saint Peter shows up and says the miracle of the loaves and fishes wasn't for real. What happened instead, he says, is that as they passed the plate around, each person only pretended to take some fish and bread, and got their own food out of their pockets instead and started sharing. That was the real miracle, that people shared their own food with others.

Anyway, about the third time I watched this scene, I thought, you know, this is a little blasphemous. It's still a nice story, and really well-intentioned and I personally? Well I have no problem with blasphemy. But it struck me as having parallels with Rushdie's The Satanic Verses. See, if you haven't read it, there is plenty of stuff in there that could have freaked people out, but apparently what really did it, what caused the fatwa to be put on Rushdie, was the re-telling of the Muhammad stuff. In the book, it's not even that different than the story as told in the Qu'ran, it's just that there's REALLY no room for personal spins on the story in Islam. Anyway, I was just thinking that it's probably a good thing that the Catholics don't issue fatwas, or there'd really be a hell of a lot of people in hiding, probably including me.

P.S. If you thought the bad poetry was bad the other day, go back to the page and search under my last name. Apparently I have two distant fourth cousins twice removed who are real schlock artists.

Does my evil know no bounds?

I searched the poetry web site just to see if that student's poem had already been posted to the web. It has. Go to that link, search for first name K A Y L A, last name C R A I G (Not with the spaces, obviously, I just don't want her to be able to Google this). Hers is called eforeBay Iay AyLay Ownday. Pig Latin rules.

Antiques, Poetry contests, Foot-in-mouth disease

First, I keep forgetting to mention that at the antiques fair Mom and I went to a couple weeks ago, the funniest things they had were antique "rectal dilators," basically butt plugs for medical uses. There were about four. I have no use for something like that, but I bet somebody is scanning ebay for that kind of thing right now.


I had to spend about half my day today trying to dissuade one of my students from paying the $25 "author bio" fee and $50 book fee to get a copy of a poetry anthology that her poem was being published in, as she was a "semi-finalist!" I've read a lot about those things on the web, so I know perfectly well it's a scam, but had a really hard time convincing her, and when I finally did, she was sure they could be sued for misrepresenting their business. Probably not. In the meantime, entertain yourself with some of the other poems that were considered good enough to be semi-finalists. One of my favorites is below, and there are a bunch more at this web site.


Nicky Nacky Noo

Tum tum tum de tum
This is apoem I sings a lot
to make me very vary hapy.
I fink it will look good on a poster two.
and a cofey mug to shows my frineds
at work so they no i am an internashunal
poet who mite even winz a prise!
Then i wuld be vary famus
and hav lotz of muney
wich wuld be vary funny
coz some of them sayd I was
eliterite wich sucks
(I hopes I can say sucks, if not
please put a defferent word instead.)
and also I just sore the poem
has to be 20 lines long so
I am counting the lynes again.
This is line nienteen
and this in number twenty. Thanx. The End

-- Stephen Abutlol


And finally . . . I am an idiot. I'm talking to a co-worker's wife at the staff party Friday, and find out that she lives kind of near me. She's six months pregnant, and very sweet (if, frankly, a little simple), and as soon as she tells me her cross streets, I bust out with "Oh, I know right where that is. That's close to where that shooting was. Oh, yeah, there's been all kind of stuff going on around there. I just read that the Stop and Shop on the corner was robbed, and then there was the pipe bomb that got thrown through that guy's window just a couple days ago!"

Yeah, as I'm saying it, I'm watching her face drop in shock and horror, watching her hand find her belly and wrap protectively around it. In fact, I kind of have an out-of-body experience, watching myself in slow motion saying all this shit, and I'm silently screaming "Stop, stop!" But I can't, I just keep telling this pregnant woman that she lives in a neighborhood ridden with violent crime. Lovely. What an idiot I am. I'm a jerk.

Busy-ass week update!

Okay, I guess there's not much to report. I've been awfully busy lately, and I'm ready for a break. I'm not quite done with my Christmas shopping, which is giving me hives, but there are a few people I'm just really stumped about. I also still have to do all my baking and stuff. I foresee a Wing Wa trip, a Sam's Club trip, a Trader Joe's trip, a night of wrapping, probably two days of coooking/baking, and at least a day of cleaning (never mind trying to work out and grade my Freshmen's papers and projects) in the next four days or so.

I saw Ocean's 11 and the Bourne Supremacy last week. I actually liked them both. Ocean's 11 had a lot more humor and charisma than I was expecting, and I liked the fact that the heist stuff went by at a very rapid pace, rather than spelling out every little detail of the plan, which would have bored me. The Bourne Supremacy was good, more of the same from the Bourne Identity, basically, which I also liked. I was sad that . . . SPOILER ALERT . . . they killed the Franka Potente character off in the first five minutes, because I really like her, but it was a good motivation for him in the rest of the movie. I'm looking forward to getting my Christmas movies this week, not that I'll have time to watch them, but I've got Millions and Comfort and Joy next in my Netflix queue.

I went to my staff party Friday afternoon/evening. It was nice, a good chance to chat with people I usually only nod at from across the hallways. My mom was kind enough to make me a casserole and some cookies to take, which is probably like cheating on my part, but it worked for me! Thanks, mom! I tried to leave early so Sweetie and I could eat Lebanese food, but there was a debacle. Long story short, a girl from work needed a ride, and two hours later, I was home.

Saturday morning was a tree planting that I somehow got upgraded from volunteer-rounder-upper to project-manager for. It went really quickly though, and we got 60 trees in the ground in two and a half hours. It was cool, and now every time I see those trees in the parking lot, I'll be like "I planted those!" I actually worked my ass off, too, digging most of two holes, pounding in six stakes, removing three trees from their pots, placing two, staking and tying several, and cleaning up the parking lot after. Unbelievably, I didn't hurt myself (well, I jammed my already-twisted ankle a couple times), because I've been on a real roll lately, but I hurt myself today doing absolutely nothing. There was a puddle of water in the garage that I didn't see, I slipped in it, my foot turned upside-down, and now my big toe is all swollen and I may have pulled a leg muscle.

Last night was Sweetie's staff party, which was fun. The hostess has her house painted in colors remarkably similar to the ones in our house. We even have the same dishtowels! I had a nice time getting to talk to Sweetie's co-workers, too, whom I barely said hello to at our reception because I was running around so much. There are a number of them who are around my age and who are all decent conversastionalists. Actually, I had a great time talking to the host, too, about music -- we talked for quite a while, and he lent me a CD. We had a good time all around. And the rumour regarding the deliciousness of the stuffed mushrooms is absolutely substantiated.

Today was quieter. It's my dad's birthday, but he called and begged off our dinner plans in order to stay in his jammies, so I just took him his present. He seemed pleased, I hope he really is. He used to make stained glass -- really beautiful pieces that are all over my home. They're some of my most precious posessions. But he hasn't made any in twenty years. Well, he is closer to retirement now, and has built himself a big workshop at the back of his yard, so I figured it's about time to get him back into the hobby he was so good at. I got him a new glass cutter, a couple pattern books, a breaker thing, and several pieces of glass. He did seem happy. I hope he enjoys it. I don't want it to be like "Happy Birthday, here's an assignment," you know? Okay, that's about it for me.

I have a dream . . . of Stevie Nicks

So I mentioned to a co-worker that I was going to the staff party, and he said "Be careful. Every year, somebody gets a little out of control, and it becomes the talk of the school. They become a total outcast."

I didn't think I went home with his words ringing in my ears, but when I went to sleep, I had a dream that I went to school (not a regular school day, but a meeting or something) dressed in a flowy lace top, a flowing skirt, and a snood (I remember specifically, because I initially put the snood on upside-down and had to fix it). During the meeting, I got really hot (I imagine it's because I probably had a fever last night) and I took off the skirt to wear just the lycra bike shorts underneath. Everyone started looking at me and pointing and whispering, as though they were totally scandalized. I was pulling at the shorts, saying "Look, they're bicycle shorts! It's not like I'm naked! People wear these all the time! Come on, it's hot!"

Whatever.

Don't know why I think I'm funny

I have a kind of abstract sense of humor sometimes. Like, I was thinking the other day it would be funny to do a "Taster's Choice" type commercial (remember the old "We've replaced this man's coffee with Taster's Choice" ones?) as follows:

"We've replaces this man's gooseberry jam with salsa verde. Let's see if he notices."

I also was driving along the other day and saw a road sign that said "Steel plates ahead." I thought it would be funny to steal that sign and hang it outside the VA hospital.

And finally, there's an inflatable Santa on 53rd street that has deflated. Two acrylic deer are grazing next to his body. Whe he was inflated, I'm sure it looked like they were grazing on grass. Now, however, it is a great deal more disturbing. They appear to be eating Santa's corpse.

Just two wierd things

One: For about a week, I've found myself humming, singing, or otherwise mentally entertaining the song "Every Sperm is Sacred" from Monty Python. I couldn't figure out why. But then Sweetie was playing his football game, (which he has been doing since we got back from Eugene) and he scored (yay him) and they played the U of O fight song. And I, standing idly in the kitchen, found myself mindlessly singing "Oregon, my alma mater . . . every sperm is good. Every sperm is needed in your neighborhood." And I realized . . . Sorry babe, but the Oregon fight song and the Monty Python sperm song are now inextricably linked in my head.

Two: You know how there are names for groups of animals, like a pride of lions or a murder of crows? I heard another teacher today refer to having a "clunk of sophomores." It seemed especially fitting.

2005_nanowrimo_winner_iconB

2005_nanowrimo_winner_iconB
Originally uploaded by countmockula.

Yay! I rule!

Sighs all around!

Well, a huge sigh of relief from me as I finish NaNoWriMo and, after a brief moment of terror, validate my word count.

A sigh of relief from Piggs as he realizes I will now be able to resume my half of the household chores.

As sigh of disappointment from Netflix as they realize (or will soon, anyway) that I'm going to actually cost them money again as I resume my movie watching.

And, well, that's about it, I guess.

Yay me!

Quick Thanksgiving update

I'm still NaNoWriMoing (7,500 words to go and three more days!), so this will have to be brief.

Tuesday -- easy flight to PDX, rented a car to drive to Eugene. Nearly killed us both twice when attempting to put in the clutch on the automatic. Hit the brake instead, natch, which startled me so much I had to put the brake on with my right foot, too! Nevertheless, we made it safely to our hotel, wrote a little and went to sleep.

Weds -- walked to the bagel shop (mmm, bagels), walked around U of O campus extensively. It was gorgeous. Loved the library. Went to Smith Family Bookstore and only bought cards, canm you imagine! Then went to University Bookstore and bought books. Did a little more shopping, then went to meet SiL and littlest niece, where we arranged to get ramen with about half the family -- delicious, if slow service. Then some time at MiL's house, then to SiLs to talk, play a little bit of a trivia game, hang out in general . . . Piggs started the first of about a three-day video game marathon with our nephew. We all went to pizza at a place that was like a mellower Chuck E Cheese, with less games, but no annoying singing animals and better pizza. Had a great time watching Piggs smoke SiL at air hockey.

Thurs -- Thanksgiving! SiL made freah doughnuts and I ate too many, having trouble deciding between cinnamon-sugar and jelly. Went for a long walk through the neighborhood (including the cemetery and some really cool walking trails), then back to the house to make dinner. I was very pleased to be able to help this year, it made me feel like part of the family. Dinner was fantastic, and so were all the activities afterwards, like Pictionary. Much laughter ensued.

Fri -- we had breakfast at Metropol, a bakery with delicious fresh breads, with quite a few members of the family, then went back to the house and talked and said our goodbyes. By early afternoon we were on the road to Portland. Well, Hillsboro actually, where we met with the sassy redhead, saw her old new house and her new new house (which is being built), and then came back in to Portland for dinner at the Doug Fir, which was on the same lot as our hotel. We had an awesome dinner and drinks and dessert (T1 and Redhead's husband joined us), then crashed in our room. It was quite noisy, but I was so tired I crashed out. In the morning we met Redhead, T1, and Bowman for breakfast, then the three boys and I drove around shopping (comic and game stores for them, clothing, books and stationery for me) until it was time for us to hit the airport. We both got super-security searched, me randomly and him because he had an expired ID. It was kind of wierd -- I was really nervous even though I knew I hadn't done anything, but it was also fascinating watching them swab all our stuff for explosive chemical residue and stuff. Plus, I'd never been super-searched before and we had arrived in plenty of time, so I figured I'd have a story to tell.

Highlights include informing SiL that her MySpace profile said she enjoyed "swinging:" she didn't know it was on there because the kids had made it for her, and they didn't know the implications. Also, air hockey and the ribbing that ensued was a blast. I loved spending time with all my brand new relations, and the kids are absolutely fantastic. So smart, funny, sweet. I also loved all the awesome food I consumed -- too much by far, but it was worth it. Piggs is a great traveling companion, and we get along so well. Life rules. I have a lot to be thankful for.

Thanks Niece for helping me fill this one out!

Advanced Global Personality Test Results Extraversion |||||||||||||||||| 76% Stability |||||||||||||||| 66% Orderliness |||||||||||| 50% Accommodation |||||||||||| 43% Interdependence |||||||||| 36% Intellectual |||||||||||| 43% Mystical |||||| 30% Artistic |||||||||||||||| 63% Religious || 10% Hedonism |||||||||||| 43% Materialism |||||| 30% Narcissism |||||||||||||| 56% Adventurousness |||||||||||||||| 70% Work ethic |||||||||||||||| 70% Self absorbed |||||| 23% Conflict seeking |||||| 30% Need to dominate |||||||||||||| 56% Romantic |||||||||||||| 56% Avoidant |||||| 30% Anti-authority |||||||||| 36% Wealth |||||||||| 36% Dependency |||||||||||||||| 70% Change averse |||||||||| 36% Cautiousness |||||||||||| 50% Individuality |||||||||||||||| 70% Sexuality |||||||||||||||| 70% Peter pan complex |||||||||| 36% Physical security |||||||||||||||||||| 90% Physical Fitness |||||||||| 37% Histrionic |||||| 30% Paranoia |||||||||| 36% Vanity |||||||||||||| 56% Hypersensitivity |||||||||||| 50% Female cliche |||||||||||||||| 63%

Take Free Advanced Global Personality Test
personality tests by similarminds.com

Two new reasons why my husband is the greatest on earth

And sorry to those of you who find this kind of thing sickening:

1: I was freaking out about whether I could fit my antibacterial hand goo in my little purse to take on our trip, and Piggs (who finds my antibacterial addiction unsettling) offered to pack it with his stuff.

2: I went to the eye doctor and was going to get trained on using contacts the next day. Dr. Lai told me as homework I had to practice touching my own eye. I went home and happily told sweetie that I had to touch his eye for practice, anticipating his "are you nuts?" reaction. But oh no. He looked at me thoughtfully and said "okay, go wash your hands."

Vacaville

Busy, finished tiling the dining room counter (gave me evil ideas of doing all the kitchen counters), no computer at work, moved classrooms . . .

Had a great lunch/walk/cold beverage and danish with a friend I haven't seen in 15 years. I didn't even realize I was old enough to have a friend I hadn't seen in 15 years. She lives in the Bay area, and we had a great time. I can't believe that the goofy snaggletoothed blond who came and rescued me from my lonely isolation of playing Chinese jumprope with the Laotian girls at recess is still basically the same smart, funny person whose company I so enjoyed as a kid. Had a great time, hope to see her again soon.

In driving down there, I passed a sign that pointed to "Historic Downtown Vacaville." Now I know how it feels to have your hometown wrongly accused of being small-time and sleepy, but seriously, here is a city whose name is literally "Cow Town," whose current main attraction is an outlet mall, and whose long-standing attraction prior to that was an orchard-based theme park that primarily consisted of a bakery, a gift store and a tiny train. Historic Downtown Vacaville indeed! But I do miss the Nut Tree . . .

See post below for reference.

MENDING WALL
Robert Frost

Something there is that doesn't love a wall, 1
That sends the frozen-ground-swell under it,
And spills the upper boulders in the sun,
And makes gaps even two can pass abreast.
The work of hunters is another thing: 5
I have come after them and made repair
Where they have left not one stone on a stone,
But they would have the rabbit out of hiding,
To please the yelping dogs. The gaps I mean,
No one has seen them made or heard them made, 10
But at spring mending-time we find them there.
I let my neighbor know beyond the hill;
And on a day we meet to walk the line
And set the wall between us once again.
We keep the wall between us as we go. 15
To each the boulders that have fallen to each.
And some are loaves and some so nearly balls
We have to use a spell to make them balance:
'Stay where you are until our backs are turned!'
We wear our fingers rough with handling them. 20
Oh, just another kind of out-door game,
One on a side. It comes to little more:
There where it is we do not need the wall:
He is all pine and I am apple orchard.
My apple trees will never get across 25
And eat the cones under his pines, I tell him.
He only says, 'Good fences make good neighbors'.
Spring is the mischief in me, and I wonder
If I could put a notion in his head:
'Why do they make good neighbors? Isn't it 30
Where there are cows? But here there are no cows.
Before I built a wall I'd ask to know
What I was walling in or walling out,
And to whom I was like to give offence.
Something there is that doesn't love a wall, 35
That wants it down.' I could say 'Elves' to him,
But it's not elves exactly, and I'd rather
He said it for himself. I see him there
Bringing a stone grasped firmly by the top
In each hand, like an old-stone savage armed. 40
He moves in darkness as it seems to me~
Not of woods only and the shade of trees.
He will not go behind his father's saying,
And he likes having thought of it so well
He says again, "Good fences make good neighbors." 45

Here is what you get when you don't make me sign a confidentiality agreement:

Hi there, Action Learning Systems. I have just finished giving the 9th and 11th grade Benchmark One tests (subtitled "Measuring Student Achievement California English-Languange Arts Standards"), and I can only conclude that the tests were created by the most well-prepared math teachers available. Dear readers, do feel free to take the test below (a small excerpt of the test I just gave my 9th graders).

1. In line 11, the poet refers to “spring mending-time” to show that
A. mending the wall is a very time-consuming task.
B. The speaker’s neighbor looks forward to mending the wall
C. The routine of mending the wall happens each spring.
D. Spring is only one of the times the wall is mended.
2. In lines 32-44, Robert Frost
A. refers to the present to illustrate the way people build walls.
B. takes the reader to the future when people make a new type of wall.
C. speaks of a time when people agreed that walls should not be built.
D. refers back to a time that would exist before a wall was ever built.
3. The phrase “He will not go behind his father’s saying” (line 43) makes the neighbor seem
A. hospitable
B. stubborn
C. clever
D. disagreeable
4. What is the effect of this poem being written from the first person point of view?
A. The poem emphasizes the importance of having long-term friendships.
B. The reader is able to see that one neighbor is hard working, while the
other neighbor is lazy.
C. The poem makes it clear that both neighbors share strong, traditional
values about work.
D. The reader knows what one of the neighbors is thinking, as well as what
he chooses to do.
5. The poet shows that “good fences make good neighbors” today by
A. repeating this idea more than once
B. writing in the present tense
C. showing how neighbors work together
D. including dialogue in the poem
6. The speaker’s references to “a spell” (line 18) and “elves” (lines 36-37) add a tone of
A. comedy
B. playfulness
C. logic
D. sadness

7. Based on his behavior, the speaker seems
A. closed-minded
B. angry
C. selfish
D. cooperative
8. The speaker influences the reader’s view of the neighbor by showing that he
A. may be hard-working, but he is not friendly
B. does not like to think too much
C. is unwilling to take care of cows
D. is unskilled at mending the wall each year
9. The dialogue in the poem shows the speaker’s
A. interest in the wall’s effect on his relationship with his neighbor
B. dislike of mending the wall each spring
C. belief that magical elves cause the wall to fall apart every winter
D. dislike of rabbit hunters and their dogs

Number 1: I can only assume the answer is C, although it isn't really clear in the poem, and a strong argument could be made for D.

Number 2: After contemplating this one for a couple days, I can only conclude that "32-44" is a typo that should read "32-34," in which case the answer is likely D, although the wording is still quite awkward, the "before a wall was ever built" making it sound like the far distant past, before any walls had been built. If in fact they meant line 44, then the question is even more awkward, because that encompasses everything in the poem about elves and the "old stone-savage" and whatnot, which is apparently not relevant to the question, and then leaving off the very last line for no apparent reason.

Number 3: Is probably B, but I can see how kids might be tricked into D. I might have been as well.

Number 4: Hopefully this one is D.

Number 5: This is my favorite (by which I mean, of course, my LEAST favorite). Unless I am very much mistaken, the whole point of the poem is that the phrase "good fences make good neighbors" is an outdated cliche that should be examined. And does today mean when the poem was written or 2005? I would guess C, but I completely disagree with the premise of the question, and I think a large number of my kids are smart enough to understand the real meaning of the poem as well.

Number 6: I would say B, but it could as easily be A depending on how you read the poem.

Number 7: I have no idea. Maybe D. The others seem to negative, and he is, after all, helping to mend the fence, but "cooperative" seems like an awfully simplistic representation of this speaker, who spends half his time needling his neighbor.

Number 8: We can easily rule out C and D. A and B seem equally likely, and I'd go for B, but this one's a stumper. Maybe it's A. I'm waffling. Wouldn't you think that if someone with a Master's degree in English can't pass this test, it's a little beyond 9th graders?

Number 9: Now this one is clearly a trick question, as there is no actual dialogue in the poem. Oh, sure, there are quotation marks, which might make you think there is dialogue, but look more closely: In lines 30 through 36, for example, there is no evidence that the speaker actually voices those thoughts. He simply says "if I could put a notion in his head." That's a big if. And he only says "I could say 'Elves' to him," not that he actually DOES say "elves." In fact, the only words we have evidence of someone saying in the poem are the following: The neighbor says twice "good fences make good neighbors." I can only assume that the speaker and the neighbor both say to the stones "Stay where you are until our backs are turned!" although I don't think you could say unequivocally that it gets said at all. And finally, it would seem that the speaker tells the neighbor that his apple trees will "never get across/ and eat the cones under his pines," although you'll notice that those words are paraphrased, and not a direct piece of dialogue. To put it more simply, if you read a story in which the narrator said "I told Danny he should cut his hair," it is not dialogue. Dialogue would be "I said to Danny, 'cut your hair.'" Sure arguments, even valid ones, could be made on the other side, but I don't think I'm convinced that the neighbor repeating a cliche out loud, them talking to the rocks, the speaker commenting on what he could say, and the speaker telling us that at one point he said something to his neighbor, add up to "dialogue."
I am a good little conformist test-taker though, and there is no space for a write-in answer, so I will have to choose one. C is ruled out because it's not exactly true. D is true but not relevant to the "dialogue." Of the other two, I have a problem with B (in a moment, don't you worry, I'll tackle that), but there's no real evidence for A, although I think the speaker is interested. My problem with D is that I don't think he actually dislikes mending the fence. He calls it a "game," he feels mischevous, enjoys casting "a spell." To say that he dislikes mending the wall is like saying he doesn't enjoy the work, when what he doesn't enjoy, I think, is the fence itself, and the idea that men put up boundaries between themselves and their "property," which is after all, nature, and can hardly be owned, as the earth's own actions against the wall reflect each spring.

Anyway, I gotta go, but this kind of thing really chaps my hide.

Eh.

Last post deleted for excessive whine content. Okay, I'm at 12,350 words in NaNoWriMo, not nearly where I'd like to be (my goal for today initially would have been 18,000), but not awful, I guess. My ass is starting to hurt from sitting and writing. Maye Friday I'll catch up somewhat, since I have the day off.

We kicked Schwarzenegger's ass in the special election! Political capital my ass. Try to spend it now, fucker!

I guess that's about it. Ooh, except that I can highly recommend the jalapeno blue corn cornbread mix from Trader Joe's. YUMMY!

G'Night!
CM

NaNoWriMo update, and friend news!

Okay, I got up to just over 10,000 words. I'm still behind, but less than I was yesterday. If I can keep up 3,000 words a day this week, I'll be at 24,000 words at the end of week two, which is damn near halfway there.

I got great news this week -- I'm totally beaming about it. I had a dream about my best friend from 4th through 8th grade, whom I haven't seen or talked to once since then. She was a great friend, and funny, and kind, and we spent untold hours being goofballs together. I mentioned the dream to my mom, and she asked whether I had Googled her. I had, but I didn't come up with anything promising. So mom (whose job, remember, included finding people), found her for me! We've now e-mailed back and forth a bit. She lives in the Bay Area with her husband, and we're meeting for lunch on Sunday! I could hardly be be more excited. If I hadn't just spent 2 hours nanowrimoing, I'd tell you all about her -- her endearing snaggletoothed smile, her sometimes inappropriate t-shirts (the turtle and the helmet is one I remember), her parents' house with all the cats, the sleepover we had where we froze someone's bra, all the Jolt Cola we consumed (all the sugar, twice the caffeine!), listening to "Darling Nikki" by Prince and her mom having a cow about it, playing water hose limbo in the street . . .

I often say that every really close female friend I've had since my high school friend Stacey was somehow modeled on her -- that there was a Stacey-shaped hole in my soul that only slightly eccentric, hilarious, beautiful, creative iconoclasts could fill (yo, Monkeygirl), but I'm wondering if Erinn might really have started this whole ball rolling, way back in '84.

Okay, got to go to bed.
Love and funk,
CM

Muppets rule

Well, it's 9:18 on Saturday and our guests have all left, so it was a short night, but a good one. We watched three episodes of the first season of the Muppet Show. Guests included Joel Grey and Connie Stevens. Yeah.

I had forgotten so much of what made the show great. The ballroom dancing scenes with the corny jokes, the backstage scenes, the in-jokes ("Those don't look like the Temptations!" "They're not, they're the Mutations!" and "What's an amoeba anyway?" "I don't know, I'm not from around here either."). The goofy performance art: "Gonzo the Great will now eat a tire to 'Flight of the Bumblebees.'"

We had delicious ice cream sundaes, with caramel, hot fudge sauce, strawberry sauce, whipped cream, crushed almonds, and marashino cherries. At times during the show we laughed so hard we drowned out the next joke.

Now I'm watching the episode with Ruth Buzzi. Good times.

I'm still NaNoWriMoing, although I'm already terribly behind. Ah well.

Thanks G!

Harry Potter Meme of All Memes by Osaku
Name/Username
Age
Gender
House	Slytherin
Wand	Oak, 10", Veela Hair
Best Course	Herbology
Worst Course	Herbology
Pet	Persian cat
Patronus	Gryffin
Quidditch Job	Commentator
Wizard Candy	Chocolate Frogs
Profession After School	Daily Prophet Reporter
Quiz created with MemeGen!

If Herbology is both my best and worst course, I must be a pretty damn mediocre student! I SO did not want to be Slytherin.

Well, shit.

I was going back and forth as to whether I would do NaNoWriMo this year. Piggs was very encouraging, and I really did enjoy doing it last year. I didn't have any ideas, and I didn't start it yesterday. I also know there are about 4 days in November I won't be able to work much (hello Thanksgiving travel). But I started today, which is kind of good news and bad news, too. Because now I'm screwed either way.

1: I quit and don't finish, and am disappointed in myself.
2: I keep at it, but to the detriment of everything else in my life, spending an hour and a half on it every day, and constantly worrying that I'm falling behind. Hell, I even started out behind.

Geez. Well, if you don't hear much from me in November, you'll know why.

Halloween!

Well, we had a nice party at M&M's house. I'm excited about giving out candy tomorrow; I never have, because I live in the neighborhood of my old school. I didn't want my kids to know where I lived. Not a problem now! I'm wearing my cowgirl costume again tomorrow to school.

They were talking about teenagers trick-or-treating in the newspaper the other day. I really don't have a problem with it, given a couple conditions. First, they have to be in costume! If they show up in a half-assed attempt, like a football jersey, I'll give them some credit, but if your ass is like 16, you had better have put some time into a real costume to deserve my candy. Second, you have to say "Trick or treat." This is non-negotiable. It would also be nice if you either smiled, or looked scary (but goofy-scary, not intimidating-scary, like making "wooo" noises and ghoulish jazz hands). And say thank you. We all know you're pushing it, so be nice.

I cut my hair. Well, no I didn't, I paid a nice young lady named Monique to cut my hair. It's cool. I don't want to describe it because I don't want to lose the element of surprise on my fellow Gynas. I think it looks good, though, and it's a pretty dramatic change. Yay me.

That's about it. I've been pretty busy, and have fallen behind on a lot of domestic stuff. I'm working on it. I think I'll hit my stride soon and develop a routine that allows me to do my job well, keep up with my exercise routine, and keep my house in order. If I manage all that, then maybe I'll get to throw in some of those longer-term goals, like learning to read music, play bass better, learn Spanish, etc.

Okay, CM out (gotta fold laundry).

I do have stuff to do . . .

Yeah, I'm slacking for a moment. The kids are taking a test, so I have a few moments of quiet. I got to talk to Leafy Greens the other night, who is coming down this weekend.

There is still some stuff I really need/want to do that I haven't, like make up about 5 ballet classes, schedule a hair appointment (if you've noticed my roots lately, you're probably going "yes, PLEASE!"), clean up my office (my mom and Piggs are definitely saying "please"), fold and put away my laundry, re-hang my kitchen light (it didn't last), and a few other domestic things.

Some other things I really want to do include play my bass more often (I think I could be a lot better if I were just of that teenage boy mentality -- you know, capable of spending hours every day on one activity), write more poetry, maybe do NaNoWriMo this year (it's hard to decide -- I don't really know if I have another story in me), sing with my school buddies (they invited me to "jam" with them yesterday, and I had fun -- I got that universal raised-eyebrow-of-acceptance for my singing), write more songs, make Halloween costumes for the Lankees (don't ask), make sourdough bread (I captured WILD YEAST to make a starter!), cook some nice cold-weather soups . . .

Okay, the natives are getting restless. Gotta go.

By the way, happy 1 year anniversary of shared residency to my punkinhead.
--CM

It's time to play the music . . .

It's time to light the lights. It's time to get things started for the Muppet show tonight!

I was reminded of the Muppet show yesterday morning, I ordered the DVD of the first season when I got to work, and it's already been shipped! I'm so excited! Anyone want to come over for a Muppet viewing party this winter?
-CM

Weekend, the homefront, personalization, radio, UTI, advertising

I wrote a really big post yesterday, but BLOGGER ATE IT, so less informative today.

Our camping trip for this weekend has been cancelled due to rain. I have really mixed feelings about this. I wanted to go, and was excited about using all the camping gear that usually sits in my garage (Piggs can tell you about my unearthing my old camping coffee percolater -- "Sweet! I rule!"). On the other hand, it was going to be really cold, I hate having substitutes, and it would mean no time alone with my sweetie this weekend. Also, I had to cancel a Gynas show (or, in reality, ask the other Gynas to cancel it), which was disappointing in the first place, and now I'm embarrassed that we had to cancel a booked show (with a good lineup -- we've been wanting to play with Uberkunst forever!) for no good reason, since now I'll be sitting at home Friday night. I'm embarrassed to even tell the girls, although at least Gynagirl will likely find out by reading this very post. Anyway, harumph in general.

On the homefront, we (Mom and I) have painted the kitchen, walls, ceiling and trim, but the biggest job, the cabinets, is still to come. I also changed the outlets and light fixture, and it's a tremendous improvement thus far. I also bought a composter!

I am irritated at the radio right now. About two years ago, a new butt-rock station hit the airwaves, and I was pleased. It was at 93.7. I told my friends and my cousin, even. Then it changed to Howard, an alternative format. I liked it, even though I found it a little redundant, since we already had KWOD. The KWOD became KWOD 2.0 and plays a lot of Counting Crows. But I still had Howard. And now Howard is Jack, as of about 24 hours ago. Yesterday afternoon one of their stupid recorded announcers said "We're Jack. People call us new and, yeah, I guess we are new." Oh, I guess so, since when I got out of the car this morning you were a completely different station! Anyway, now THEY'RE playing adult contemporary shit, and I only have 98 Rock left for hard rock, and no alternative station (not that very much alternative music still exists, but when I want my Radiohead and Foo Fighters, I want 'em!)

I was talking to Monkeygirl about the Personalization of America. Basically, listen to almost any TV or radio advertisement, and there will be something in there about how the product, whether it's education or chicken fingers, is tailored just to your specific needs. Now, not only is this bullshit (you get a choice of three sauces -- whoo!), it also really feels like pandering to our collective egos. Each of us, apparently, is so damned special that our personal car insurance experience must be made for us individually. And since when did getting to choose what we eat become some special selling point? For as long as I can remember, McNuggets have come with your choice of sauce. Waitresses at restaurants rattle off your choices of salad dressings. Who decided this was revolutionary? It just irritates me.

UTI. Yeah, that's actually short for Universal Technical Institute, not Urinary Tract Infection, in case you were wondering. They've been advertising on the radio recently with all the enthusiasm of those "SUNDAY SUNDAY SUNDAY" monster truck rally ads, but they seem to have no idea that their name is synonymous with painful urination.

And finally, I know that all things Asian are hip right now, but does anyone else find it annoying that Jeep is advertising the "yin and yang" experience of driving their vehicle and Newcastle Brown Ale is talking about whether or not their beer interrupts your flow of chi?

Okay, random thoughts dispersed.
CM

Ahem . . .

I always feel kind of guilty telling people about this kind of thing, but I have a poetry reading at CSUS in the Library Gallery next Wednesday, October 26th, at 5pm. If you'd like to go, I'd be happy to see a friendly face in the audience.

--CM

Daniel's Secret Identity?

daniel
Originally uploaded by countmockula.

Is it me, or does Daniel look mysteriously like CNN anchor Daryl Kagan? Has anyone every seen these two in the same room? I'm serious . . .

I'm a penguin!

I'm a penguin!
Originally uploaded by countmockula.

Me in a penguin egg at the Monterey Bay Aquarium. Do you spot the other visitor to the aquarium?See more photos here.

Piggs is a Penguin?!

hubby penguin
Originally uploaded by countmockula.

My gorgeous brand-new husband became a penguin briefly on our Minimoon in Monterey! Yes, we went to the aquarium and had a great time. I suspect you'll be able to read about it from another perspective soon.

Of Polkas and Principals

I seriously polkaed with the principal yesterday. How many people can say that? We had a friend of mine from ballet come and teach us polka yesterday in that after-school dance class. We went outside (because we couldn't use the cafeteria -- long, beurocratic story), and were polka-ing around in a big circle. The principal walks by and asks me "what's going on here?" I explained that it was the dance class, and we were learning the polka, and he said "I know how to polka!" I said, "you do?" He responded by holding his hands out in the universal "may I have this dance" gesture, and I took him up on it. He whirled me around the lawn once, then left to the applause and laughter of the kids. Funny.

I'm busy this week, but very much looking forward to my mini-moon this weekend in Monterey. Yay! Mom and Boompah rock.

This week

Okay, let's see. Well, besides school, not that much is going on. It's almost our 3 month anniversary, as well as our honeymoon (next weekend). I've still been so busy I haven't been to the gym, which makes me feel kind of sucky, but I have been really active in teaching that dance class. In fact, Wednesday at ballet I was SUPER sore and the ballet teacher caught me kind of cheating at grand plies and made me do another really slow one.

I also found out (speaking of ballet) the answer to the mystery of the one high boob. And knowing, now I feel kind of bad for having been so curious. You may remember ages ago I mentioned a woman at ballet who had a breast that seemed way higher than the other one? It turns out that she had a radical mastectomy years ago and had the reconstructive surgery and a silicone implant put in. But since so much of her tissue was destroyed, there was really nothing to hold the implant in place, and it worked its way up. She's going to have another surgery, but was hesitant at the recovery time and the process they'd need to do (it includes taking muscle from your abdomen!). So she has heard of another type of surgery and may go with that one instead. Anyway, mystery solved.

School was neat this week. We finished Tim O'Brien's The Things They Carried, and on Thursday I just put the following on the board as they came in: "Creatively express your controlling impression of the chapter 'Night Life.' You have 25 minutes to prepare." After a few points of clarification, they were off and running, and 25 minutes later I found myself watching dueling MCs rapping about the chapter, the "Rat Kiley going nuts" part being acted out (complete with lighting and minimal props) with three students playing the bugs that obsessed him, crawling across the floor after him. We had a puppet show. There was a musical group singing lines from the chapter (my favorite, "I saw his liver!" with the backup singers going "His actual fucking liver!" -- and yes, I let them use profanity, because they were quoting the book). It was cool. The best part is that the next day we really did finish the book and I asked them to write about their reactions to it. I read their papers, and they overwhelmingly liked it and thought they'd remember it for years to come. I was worried about halfway through, because they were really frustrated with the book's narrative (i.e., in one chapter some story will get told, and in the next the narrator will completely negate what was said and tell the story in a completely different way).

Then in my 2nd period class, there was some bad news this week -- a student had been harassing another, and assaulted him, bloodying his nose. I didn't hear the whole story, but apparently he was so afraid he was going to get in trouble that he took off, not even going home. No one has heard from him. So with that kind of tense, emotional background (it didn't happen in my class, but the group kind of travels in a pack all day), we entered Thursday, where a young lady in the class presented her oral autobiographical narrative (as everyone was required to do), but was so emotionally overpowering that about 75% of the class was in tears. The story was about her grandfather who had passed away, and the combination of her storytelling skills, her obvious emotional state (she was weeping openly through most of her own story), and the story itself (basically, she was very close to her grandfather, but because of her Tongan culture, she wasn't allowed to do much of what she wanted at the funeral, like help carry the casket). We had to just take a long moment of silence to recover after she was done. I'm not exaggerating -- we ran out of Kleenex. It was hard to know what to do as a teacher -- it seems like most people, when overcome like that, would stop talking and sit down, or would take a moment and recover, but she just kept crying and telling her story. It was a long one, too, filled with rich detail and her thoughts and feelings at the time. At one point she started to really sob, so I stopped her and gave her a hug. I said "It was really brave of you to come up here and share your story. Are you okay?" She nodded, then said "Can I finish?" I said yes, and got the hell out of her way. Afterwards, I took that as an opportunity to address (however obliquely) the other incident, saying that I knew it had been a rough, emotional week, but that I hoped it would help bring that group closer, because to make it all the way through the diploma program, they were going to need each other's support. It was interesting.

I was also talking to a first year teacher this week (I saw her in the hall looking frazzled and invited her to eat lunch in my room), and I felt for the first time that I really had some experience and wisdom to offer, and a place from which to speak. I mean, I've talked to younger teachers before, but I finally really feel like a veteran. Maybe it's the fact that some enormous percentage of teachers quit in the first five years, and this is year six for me. Congratulations to me.

Ask and ye shall receive.

I have a good friend. He's the one who convinced me to come to the new job, probably had a hand in my hiring, and he's been very kind about showing me around, getting me materials, etc.

So Monday he asked how it was going, and I said that overall, things were pretty good, that there were just a few minor things that were drawbacks. He asked what they were, and I mentioned the bathroom thing first, then that because I really didn't have anyone to eat lunch with, it was hard getting to know people, and I missed the sense of camaraderie I had at my last job. The next day, he and another teacher came over to eat with me, today they were here again, and they're asking even more people to come over. I know I'm really lucky to have a friend like that. Now if only there were something that could be done about the bathroom . . .

Seriously?!

From a memo I received today:

"An IEP meeting has been schedule for: [Student Name] . . . Your present at the meeting is important to the planning for this students' academic progress as his/her gneeral education teacher. Your attendance and input are essential for the decision-making and recommendations for continue or change in services received by this student.

As member of the IEP team your input will be used to evaluate and implement appropriate education interventions for the educational success of the student."

The worst part was this incomprehensible gobbledygook looked a LOT like a form letter that just gets the kid's name switched out.

Best of Broadway!

Okay, I may have sat through Gynagirl's personal hell yesterday.

First, my grandma calls me at like 12:30 and says "well, are you dressed and ready to go?" I answer that I'm dressed, but I don't think I'm going anywhere, because I'm dirty and I stink. She starts to respond that I'd better . . . when I go "Oh! I forgot Best of Broadway! No I didn't! I'm ready! What time are we meeting you?" So, Mom and I meet her for the production. Now, the idea is that they take the best songs from Broadway musicals and do dance numbers to them. But they apparently take absolutely anyone who auditions, and there's no real theme or anything. Also, it would seem that their budget for the cast of like 200 was about $200. I suspect they said something like "Do you have anything khaki, anything white, anything vaguely retro, and some stuff you wouldn't mind us putting glitter on? Great, you've got the part!" And finally, that title might be more accurate if it were "Mediocreist of Broadway Musicals that are Often Unknown and Mostly Thirty Years Old."

At first it seemed very David Lynch to me, but then there was a strange and campy John Waters-esque number, but from there on out it was ALL Christopher Guest. Just like Waiting for Guffman. At one point during "Born to be Wild" my mom leaned over and said "I think I liked him better with the wig." I replied "I think I'd like it better if I couldn't see his ding-ding."

Other low-lights included the tapdance to "Wipeout," the long religious section, the people who just stood in the back as scenery (possibly the board members), the "Napoleon" section (with exceptionally creepy scene between 60-year old Napoleon and 17-year old Josephine, with, by the way, dancers in Victorian underpants doing a sort of ballet, the male in long johns and a flowy shirt) . . . Um, also the ending scenes with everyone pouring into the aisles dressed like Rocky Horror trannies (the creepy people who dance in the front). There was a kid who looked just like the geeky friend in the Wonder Years, and he couldn't keep time (he SO wasn't the only one). There was also a kid in a teal shirt with a glittery mesh shirt over it who came out, rather inexplicably, with glitter smeared all over his top lip, and a do-rag. Oh, and the kids who seemed exceptionally unenthused about singing "Good Vibrations" -- imagine someone very angry or depressed doing the "good, bop bop, good" part.

Most of it was good clean fun, me making the occasional snide comment to mom, but I actually got a little ill at one point, when they were singing and dancing to Queen and Bowie's "Under Pressure." It was like, "Why can't we give love, give love, give love!" with 100 watt smiles, groovy arm gestures and jazz hands. It was hideous. Freddie Mercury is rolling in his grave. I couldn't help it, I spent the entire number with my jaw hanging open.

Just two follow ups -- my aunt (I'd call her aunt J, but almost all my aunts are aunt J) Tallest retains her reputation for having almost no sense of humor. I was trying to joke with my cousin, and, totally deadpan ('cause that's how I do it, yo), I say "Well, I don't know about you, but I think it's really nice that they cast the differently abled." Before I get a chance to crack a smile, aunt Tallest says "Yeah, that is nice." Then a few minutes later, I'm like "Cousin, I think maybe you and I should try out for this next year." Auntie bites again: "Ooh, you should. You know, boy cousin went to this dance studio once, although he didn't do this . . . blah blah blah." So I try it again to Formerly-Known-As-Mullet-Auntie. "Hey, FKAMA, your daughter and I were thinking about trying out for this next year." She laughs, but unfortunately, Grandma overhears. Grandma agrees that we should (maybe I need to add a smirk to my deadpan face or something -- people rarely get me). Then today we were talking on the phone and she says that she has talked to the Best of Broadway people, and mentioned that she has a granddaughter who sings and dances and plays "guitar in a little band," and that would apparently put me "at the top of the list!" But I'll have to call myself, she didn't give them my name. Yeah. I'll write that number down. (Insert smirk here.)

Busy as a bee

Yeah, only not in a cute way. Whatever you do, do NOT picture me wagging my fanny in a yellow-and-black stripey costume and dancing to "Flight of the Bumblebee."

Um, so, yeah. I started teaching the 7th period, and that's keeping me from home until probably 5 o'clock, but it's really fun. The swing dancing was great, and a bunch of kids who aren't mine joined up, so I'm meeting new students from other years of the program. I'm getting to know my own students a little better, too. Between ballet two nights a week (I paid for three, but haven't been making it), various other engagements, and trying to grade, prepare, keep up on my reading, grocery shopping, keeping my house tidy (definitely falling behind there) . . . well, I'm a little beat. I had planned to be at Gynagirl's birthday party like, right now, but still have about thirty errands and chores before my weekend is over, and most of tomorrow already scheduled away (for good, happy things, but still all booked up).

I've been trying to get to school earlier, and that's probably my biggest time management struggle right now. I won't say I'm not a morning person, but I'm not at my all-time best before about 7:30, and if I'm not already at school by about then, I usually don't have time to do all my running around/copying/bathroom trip/writing stuff on the board/getting out overheads- kind of stuff. Then I feel disorganized and underprepared and yucky, but to get my ass out of the house by 7:15 requires practically a Herculean effort on my part, and almost certainly involves my failure to blow-dry my hair, which helps me look professional (I think). So prepared and unkempt vs. unprepared and professional-looking. I don't want to make that choice, but I also don't want to get my ass out of bed at 5:30, either. I'm going to find a way to make it work, I'm sure, but winter is ALWAYS harder for me in terms of getting out of bed. If it's cold, I can hit the snooze button for half an hour, trying to avoid getting out of bed and hopping into the shower.

Fun stuff this week -- a couple from Midtown Stomp came to school and taught our class several Lindy Hop moves. We borrowed the cafeteria and had a great time. I had dinner with an old friend, her daughter, boyfriend, and two brothers, and it was like a big happy family reunion. They're all people I deeply care about (the friend and her daughter especially), and it was really nice to see them again. We're having a birthday party for Mom tomorrow. Thursday is the big Gynagirl birthday bash at the Distillery. We went to Malouf's for dinner last night and gave them our thank you note. We included a picture of the food (unfortunately the only one we got -- if you have more, would you shoot them our way?), and Rita loved it so much she taped it to the front of the display case of desserts. I'm sure there's more, but I'm tired and need to get to my to-do list.
Take care, all,
CM

My god, has your body EVER seen the sun???

My god, has your body EVER seen the sun???
Originally uploaded by monkeyeinstein.

I just needed to bring this photo of Monkeygirl's to the world's attention.

More impressions

Well, on the new job, I still wish there were more or closer bathrooms -- really, that's about the worst part of my job, so things could certainly be worse. I am definitely working more, harder, and longer, but I still start every class with a smile. I started teaching my 7th period dance class today -- it turns out that I do know enough about belly dancing to fill an hour. Later this week is swing! I also have a couple phone calls to make to get a hip-hop group and a ballroom/jazz dancer in.

Interestingly, in addition to that whole "no camaraderie" thing, another thing about the staff is that I notice they all dress really nicely. It's kinda strange, like, some of the guys actually wear three piece suits! There are also a profusion of sport jackets, and probably about half the guys wear ties. It results in kind of a positive peer pressure to dress nicely. I'm trying to fit in, but I'm not naturally like that -- I'm more of a casual gal. But I've definitely kicked it up at least one notch -- slacks, ironed shirts, accessories, even heels one day! I'm working on it . . .

Unrelated, the new neighborhood I work in has to be one of the town's hot spots for bad driving. I thought I might be imagining it at first, but after I saw my THIRD driver with a 40 in a paper bag before 4:30 in the afternoon, I realized that no, it really is exceptionally bad. People tailgate, weave in and out, dial cell phones -- I mean, I know it's stuff that happens everywhere, but it really seems to happen in a more condensed fashion out there.

This weekend was pretty cool -- I went swing dancing, we had sushi, I went to see Marty Cohen and the Sidekicks (my friend's dad is a Sidekick), saw my old friend there (it's been almost two years!!!!) and was so thrilled to see her, then Sunday I got to see my friends' new baby, took a nap with my sweetie, and sat at Tupelo to do my planning with a biscotti and a "bowl of soul" (soy milk, chamomile tea, and honey). All in all, a very nice weekend. My mom is out of town, so I sang the birthday song to her cell phone voice mail, but next weekend (another busy one), I'll make my famous German Chocolate cake. Now that I've bragged, it'll probably come out as a pile of crumbs with a scrambled-egg frosting, but I swear it's usually good.

Stolen from Gynagirl

I typed "Kara is" in Google and got . . .

Kara is granted asylum in the west

Kara is out on the town with Superman and Batman

E-kara is the first truly portable handheld karaoke system

Kara is serving 25 years - life in an Arizona prison for her part in the crime

Kara is happy and also sad

Kara is a children’s book editor, and she lives in Belmont, Massachusetts

Kara is a leader whose life reflects Christ

The reception and all . . .

Well, I was asked at lunch today how the weekend had gone, and I said that it had been one of the best weekends of my life. The statement came out spontaneously, but the more I think about it, the more I think it's true. First the details, and then some reflections.

On Thursday evening we got Toltec1 at the airport and went to dinner at Celestin's. We had a nice evening and I retired fairly early because I had to work in the morning. Friday was a good day at school (although I inadvertently freaked out my IB class by mentioning offhandedly this semester's big project), and I came home to the news that Piggs' family was mostly in town, staying at a nearby hotel. We made reservations at a Chinese restaurant I've been to off and on since I was a kid -- it's not spectacular, but it's good, and well-suited for large groups. I went to Mom's to help set up a little, although frankly I couldn't stay long and wasn't much help. Sora, Monkeygirl and G3 (and of course my mom, who never stops) did all the real work. I wrapped up some silverware, ate some pizza, and took off. I got Piggs and T1 and we went to the hotel and hung out very briefly, as our reservation time rapidly approached. We all had a nice dinner (all 15 of us!), then retired to the hotel. I was concerned about the weather, because our big plan was that September might not be crazy Sacramento summer hot, but that it would be comfortable. Well, it was COLD Friday night. I started to be terrified that we'd have winds and people would have to retreat indoors. I also missed the Papayas (they don't yet have a fake blogger name, so I'm assigning one -- the Papayas are our Portlandian married friends), who had gotten lost, were staying farther away, and were too tired to make it out Friday night. I assured them we'd see them in the morning, and told them to get some rest and wind down.
We stayed quite late at the family's hotel, the kids swimming, the men arguing about Hurricane Katrina and its aftermath, and most of the girls sprawled on one of the beds giggling. Then in the morning, we went back to the hotel to join them for breakfast at the cafe there. It was kind of a sit down thing and kind of a buffet. I had to make my own waffle, but they brought us eggs and coffee. Hard to know what to tip. Anyway, then we all sort of parted ways so that they could see the town -- they apparently had a good time at the railroad museum (which I secretly enjoy, too, but I had a busy day and I've been more recently). I did some errands, including picking up my frickin' rad new chair, and the boys (including Eldest Nephew) played video games and ate Doritos. Then everyone met us at the house to see the place for the first time (there were other comings and goings, but I'm condensing), and were very impressed (or very kind). I'm awfully glad we went to all the trouble we did this summer making it look good. Even funnier, everyone thought the cinderblock construction was really cool. We even briefly fooled a couple people who thought the floor was hardwood! MiL thanked me for sharing "my" home, and I reminded her that it was her son's home, too.
Then the frenzy began! We packed up the stereo (but alas, not the power cord, which had to be retrieved later), grabbed an extra pair of comfy shoes, sweatshirts, etc, and went to Malouf's to pick up the food. When we got there, we thought there might have been a mistake -- we had only ordered a few items, none of them hot, but practically the whole front of the restaurant was covered in serving trays, chafing dishes, to-go containers, bags, and the Malouf's daughter was cutting up desserts into more containers. We also noticed labels for things we hadn't ordered -- Moussaka and Mujadara written in Sharpie on the aluminum foil. We hesitated and asked more than once "this too? Is this ours?" They assured us that it was, so we packed the car, then T1 and I waited while Piggs paid. It was taking a long time (they were packing yet more things into containers), so I went back in to check on what was going on, worried there was a problem like that they'd misunderstood our order and the price had doubled or something. No. The price was exactly as stated for the, like, THREE things we ordered, and they'd completely filled my car with food. I almost cried. It's true that we're regulars, and that we always make conversation with the Maloufs, but we've done nothing to deserve the amazing generosity they showed us. I don't even know what to say. But we will continue to be regulars for as long as they are in the restaurant business, and spread the word as much as possible. Malouf's Taste of Lebanon on Fulton Ave. Go.
Anyway, then we didn't have room for ice, which we had also planned to bring, so we went straight to Mom's, where Boompah had already gotten 120 lbs of ice. I looked in the backyard and it was like a dream. It was beautiful. It was everything I could have imagined and more -- Sora had spent most of the day at Mom's decorating, and it was incredible. Again I was moved almost to tears (gotta hold back, trying to look pretty, here). I had mentioned to G3 months ago that it would be awfully nice to have a calligraphy of the "double happiness" symbol to hang, but then hadn't mentioned it again, thinking that he was so busy with school, work, art, aikido, and everything else he does that he mightn't have time. I was a little embarrassed on reflection to have asked. But when I walked into the backyard, there were not only two beautiful "double happiness" characters on white against a vivid red background, there was a perfect "love" centered between them. I rushed to put out little Asian bowls filled with water, and cut spider mums into them. We set up the stereo and food table, did all the other last minute stuff, and right at 7:29, an absolute FLOOD of our loved ones started pouring through the gate. I would barely get to greet an uncle when a much-loved co-worker would pop up behind, then a friend I've known since middle school who came all the way from Colorado, then a new in-law, then friends of my Mom's who have been very kind to me, then my closest friends . . . it went on and on. After an initial flurry of conversations and greetings, I went to sit down with a plate of the delicous food (from Malouf's on Fulton!) with some of my cousins and aunts and uncles who I haven't seen recently. I tried hard to sit down and talk, however briefly, with everyone, but I just couldn't make it around. Some cousins got not much more than a drive-by kissing, and there were co-workers of Piggs' I didn't even meet. I noticed that Piggs and T1 were doing most of the food serving and running out from the kitchen to the table almost nonstop. I was a little concerned that they didn't get a chance to relax, but I was so involved in trying to talk to people I didn't give it much thought. T1 gave a lovely toast, we cut the cake (both with much paparazzi flashbulb-popping), and then the goodbyes went almost as fast as the hellos, with a mass exodus at what almost had to be some premeditated time I was not aware of. I talked a little longer with some of my old co-workers (whom I am very homesick for), and then was called inside to open some presents. Where I discovered something.
At this point, all I will say is that my lovely, kind, intelligent husband drank much more champagne on an empty stomach than Andre the Giant could have reasonably handled, we are now out of both Pepto Bismol and Mylanta, we have a load of blankets and towels in the dryer, and he has sworn off alcohol. Poor thing. But as I said to youngest niece "Our bodies are amazing things -- when we eat or drink something that's bad for us, our bodies go 'Nope!' and we throw up to get rid of the bad stuff."
The next morning was very nice, too. The Papayas and our Arizona friends called and said "make coffee, we're coming over!" I ran to Bel Air to get not only extra coffee, but bagels, fruit and cinnamon rolls as well. We had a nice relaxing morning of conversation until, unfortunately, they all had to go. I know Piggs and I both would have loved to have much more time with all of them. Then much of Piggs' family came by (his older sister's family had left early to go to Disneyland, and our other brother-in-law had also flown out in the morning) and we chatted and relaxed. I offered to take my FiL and SMiL to the airport, at least partly to talk to them a little bit more -- I've never really talked much with my FiL, and I think he's interesting. In fact, I grilled him on some of the family heirlooms we have in the house, and he talked with me about some of the art of his that we're hanging in our place.
From the airport, I took youngest niece and went to Mom's house to clean up, but almost everything was already done (I really got off easy on the workload for this thing, although I didn't plan it that way and feel a little guilty that I didn't do more). Piggs, T1, and remaining family came to Mom's and we cleaned a little and chatted and played a lot, and then they had to go as well.
Sunday evening I took the boys to the game store, then we came home and I did a little schoolwork, then we kind of just vegged and ate leftover middle eastern food (From Malouf's! It was delicious!). I thought (and was hoping) that Colorado friend was going to call and come over, but she didn't. I'm awfully sorry I didn't get to talk to her more, because I really miss her, but at the same time I was massively tired (hardly got any sleep Saturday night, trying to convince Piggs he was too uncool to die like Jimi Hendrix, and that I was not, in fact, his ex-girlfriend).
Today it was back to school, and fobbing off of the leftover cake on my co-workers (free food and teachers is always a winning combination), and this afternoon, taking T1 to the airport. Then more leftovers from Malouf's Taste of Lebanon on Fulton Ave. Mmm. I was sad to see him go, and we're trying to convince him to move to Cali to be closer to us. I think it would be good for everyone involved. Hear me T1? Move down.


On to the reflections portion I promised: Having a wonderful new family is the second best part of this marriage (a wonderful husband is naturally first). I love being an aunt, and being called all the aunt names (including nicknames that used to be for Piggs only), and talking with my new sisters and . . . the whole thing, really. I already love being part of my Mockula family, and I just doubled my joy. It's true that there is no end of love we are capable of -- that you can just keep on producing and producing new love all the time, and add new people to the love list, and your heart will never run out, simply increase. I'm absolutely thrilled. I'm overcome.

Second -- a friend of my mom's mentioned (as did many people) how nice, cool, wonderful, loving, interesting, supportive, and generally wonderful my friends and family are. I responded, "You know, I'm not a spiritual person, but there is just no doubt that I am blessed." I don't think any word less strong than that begins to cover it. "Blessed" may not cover it either. And I know it, and I'm thankful for it.

Third -- Wedding receptions maybe should be a rotating affair, where over the course of a weekend you schedule people in groups of five or so for an hour or more at a time, so that you really have an opportunity to talk with everyone, kiss all the babies, catch up on everyone else's lives. With all those wonderful people around, it was a shame not to be able to devote my full attention to more of them for longer. Of course, I know that's how those things go and that people understand, but it reminds me that I do need to make some individual time for all those people I've been promising to have dinner with. Could it possibly be less important than an evening of planning for school, going to the gym or ballet, or watching a movie? Um, no.

Fourth -- Little C arrived (my friends' baby), and I've seen pictures and she is beautiful. Congratulations to them, and welcome to the world, baby! Could there have been more joy in Sacramento in one weekend?

Fifth -- Abdul, Rita, and Layal Malouf; I am writing a thorough thank-you note, but I will never be able to thank them enough. My first wedding (ptooie) was preceded by what I later called bad omens -- tons of them, raining down one after the other, like the universe was attempting to smack me in the forehead and tell me to run in the other direction. If those were omens, then the unprecendented and undeserved generosity the Maloufs showed us had to be the opposite -- the universe giving us its enthusiastic thumbs-up. The only thing we were missing was a shaft of light and a choir of angels. If my heart was like a sponge for love and generosity, then it would not only have filled my chest cavity, it would have exploded out of me, filling the house, the neighborhood, the town, the state, the planet . . . if it was a visual it would have looked like one of the Care Bears shooting rainbows out of his chest. It was unbelieveable.

Sixth -- Mom. I can never repay your generosity. I can't even say this to your face. But I will live to be a good friend, a good teacher, a good mother, a good wife, a good person. That might cover a tenth of it.

Seventh -- So many other people helped make this possible, going to great lengths, and I probably won't be able to properly thank them, either, but thanks to everyone who took time to come from out of town, who paid for air fares or gas, who took time off work, or spent 9 hours in a car with their mother and two kids. Thanks to everyone who gave me words of support and love, who love me and love my husband, too. Thanks to Monkeygirl, who did a great deal of the preparation, organization, and for thinking of things (and then providing them) that I wouldn't have. And who got us entirely too generous a present, even after all she did for us. Thanks to Boompah, who has not only already provided our honeymoon, but who also offered up (with my mom) his home to about eighty strangers, who provided the beer, who was pretty much the bartender all night, and who is my Boompah. Thanks to G3, who not only remembered my request for calligraphy, but outdid himself in their beauty and artistry, then devoted time to helping decorate and set up as well, and whom I barely said two words to at the party. To Sora, who as I've already said, basically made my dream of the site come to fruition, and to whom I also said only a few words. To that list I'll add Leafy Greens, who flew from Portland and got little more than a hug, although I hope to see him tomorrow, too. And my Dad, who picked up, dropped off, broke down, loaded and unloaded all the chairs and tables, mostly without catching so much as a glimpse of me -- thank you.

Eighth -- To T1, who spent the entire party basically serving other people, then spent much of the night taking care of my husband. T1 knows how I feel about him. I hope he moves down.

Ninth -- And last, unless I think of more, to my husband, for with T1, doing all the food service. But also and especially for just being my loving husband, loving me spectacularly, tremendously, wholly, unconditionally (or if there are conditions, I haven't met them yet), and well. I don't think I've made a better decision in this lifetime than taking your hand.

Love to everybody. Hope you can feel it from where you are. I bet you can.

Those darn kids!

Well, my students have proven themselves to be incredibly precocious in terms of finding stuff out about me (some examples -- they were singing my band's songs yesterday, one of them has already added me as a friend on MySpace, and when I said I was busy this weekend, someone answered "Oh, because you have your wedding reception Saturday, right?") It's a little creepy. In any case, it's only a matter of time before they locate the ol' Count Mockula blog. Sigh. Well, I'll try not to smack-talk about them. =)

So the first week of school is over. Whew. I'm decompressing a bit. Although I've taught three preps before (three different subjects, to the non-teacher crowd), at the last school I could sort of stretch it so that one lesson, varied slightly, could suffice for two classes. Not so, here. Just a quick update, because I only have a couple hours to rest, figure out what Piggs and Toltec want to do for dinner, and get to mom's.

Good stuff: These kids rule. They make eye contact, say good morning, shake hands, roll over . . . okay, not roll over, but they are exponentially more mature than a simple couple-year age difference would have led me to expect. It's cool. They get my jokes and stuff. I can give them fairly complicated instructions and they can roll with it. The campus is really lovely, thanks in part to a ceramics teacher whose students' work is all over the school. Other teachers and the staff have generally been really friendly and helpful. I especially like the people I've been working most closely with, which is a big bonus. There are opportunities that were simply not available to me before. Here's a great example: I idly mention at lunch on Wednesday that I'd like to get my kids into the "one book one Sacrameneto" program where everybody reads the same book in October. I asked if there were funds to buy a class set of books. Within 26 hours, books are on their way and we are arranging buses to take some students to meet the author. I can actually do FUN stuff. I haven't taken a field trip since my first year teaching, and I'm already in on two for this autumn alone.

Bad stuff: Mainly, I'm still getting used to procedural stuff -- like that I have to take my own copy paper to the copy room. There's ONE women's staff restroom for a staff of 120. The others are under construction, or for the handicapped (you can use them, but the curtains don't close completely, so a person-with-a-disability might roll in at any minute and peek through the curtains at you on the pot). There's another restroom my key doesn't seem to open. It's a LONG walk anywhere else on campus. There's no real staff lunchroom, and therefore not much opportunity for camaraderie, or to make new friends. And on that note, I really miss my friends from the old school. I knew I would. I mean, I had co-workers I liked, and I had co-workers who were my support system, my mid-day stress relief, my comic interludes, my bosom friends. Someone is using my classroom 7th period for a Spanish class -- it's not like that's a real strain, but I can't go write on the board, or turn my radio on, or sit on the floor and make posters like I used to during my prep. The teacher is nice, I like her, but it is just a bit of an imposition. Plus, it's a longer day by an hour and 5 minutes. And because we're salaried, not hourly, there's no pay raise for the additional 180 hours a year.

On to the weekend! It seems that my FiL and SMiL have arrived in town and are at their hotel. My SiL, MiL, and niece and nephew should arrive this evening. More family is coming tonight and tomorrow. I'm going over to mom's with Monkeygirl, Sora, and maybe others to decorate tonight. I am so glad we got married the way we did, on the down low, as it were, but this whole celebratory thing is going to be fun, too. I'm looking forward to it.

New school year

I think I get more nervous about the beginning of the school year than the kids. I even went back to school shopping. Although there are good things about back to school shopping as an adult: A: I have more money. B: I have better taste C: I am not at all concerned whether my peers think I'm cool. Or the kids, for that matter.

Of course, I have more back to school preparation to do than the kids. Besides just making sure I have a well stocked backpack, I have to have a syllabus, all my materials, textbooks, copies, a plan for the next quarter at least, lesson plans at least a week out, my room cleaned, set up, and generally "ready." I've already spent something like 6 days on campus for various trainings and meetings. I'm teaching 3 completely different courses, and one of those, I've been assured, should really count as two (they're both 11th grade, but one group of kids has had good instruction for the last two years, and the other, maybe not so much, plus there are a lot of English learners in the class).

I also have to purchase a bunch of stuff -- well, don't have to, but plan to. To make the room more homey, I'm going to get a couple comfy chairs and some plants and stuff. I also found out that I have a budget of $300, which sounds sweet until you realize that I have to provide pens, pencils, a classroom library, highlighters, overhead transparency paper, staples, tape, paper clips, and all the paper for all the copies I make (and I have to make at least 6,000 copies just for the 11th grade program in the first semester).

Other thoughts -- I find myself thinking that this might be a very different job from my last in more ways than I expected. I feel like I might be a whole lot more passionate about this, and throw myself into it more. Not that I wasn't a good, involved teacher at the last school, but I can already see myself becoming really attached. Which is both good and bad. Being really passionate about your job is wonderful and fulfilling, but at the same time, I can already see myself encroaching on my self-imposed limits, like not bringing work home every night and weekend. I used to get all my work done at school most of the time, then leave with a free brain. I don't know, que sera sera I guess.

Marginally funny moments from the last few days.

Tuesday a.m.
Nicely dressed lady: Is there a bathroom open around here?
Me: Yeah, the student bathroom right there, but it's really filthy.
NDL: Oh, well do you want to follow me to the staff bathroom?
Me: (A little abashed) Um. No, I used it anyway.
NDL: Oh, great! You're going to fit right in if you can face challenges like that!

Principal: Bob will be filling in for Ms. Lee until November, when he will take over for Ms. King, because it's required here that all female assistant principals are pregnant. Mr. Peterson is working on it.
(I KNOW he meant working on becoming pregnant, but it really sounded like working on knocking everybody else up.)


I'm wearing purple shoes with flowers on them at orientation, and the social studies teacher says "Nice shoes. [Long pause.] You know, I couldn't wear shoes like that. I'd get my ass kicked."

IB coordinator, grabbing keyboard and mouse off a table in a darkened room and pushing them into my arms; "Well, there's probably a checkout procedure for these . . ."

Again addressing the bathroom issues, Social Studies teacher says "Is there a men's bathroom open around here?"
IB coordinator: "I don't know. There's a women's . . ."
Male English teacher: "What the hell, I used the women's bathroom all last year because the men's was so far away." (Here he looks rather shamedly at me.)
Me: "Oh, I don't care, I've got no problem using a men's restroom."
IBC: "I've heard some women can do that."
Me: "No, I use the stall, but I did read a whole web site about how to pee standing up, and I tried it in the shower, but it wasn't really that successful . . . " (Here I notice all three men turned to look at me.) "Huh. Maybe I should just keep myself to myself for the first month or so."

Mr. Peterson: Okay, we're going to introduce ourselves, but to help me remember your names, I'd like you to think of an animal that starts with the same letter as your last name. Mr. Tafoya and I will model it. I'm Jim Peterson, so . . . Peterson, Penguin! Got it? Mr. Tafoya, go ahead.
Mr. Tafoya: I'm the Singing Sparrow.
Mr. Peterson: No, say your name first.
Mr. Tafoya: I'm Mr. Tafoya, the Singing Sparrow.
Mr. Peterson: No, your animal is supposed to start with the same letter as your last name.
Mr. Tafoya: What's that?
It may have even gone on longer than that. I swear I thought they were going to go into "who's on first."