Ok, I've been sufficiently chastised about my lack of posting.
So it's happening now.
School is over. The last time I posted school felt like it was far from over. I thought that I was stressed in earlier parts of the year, but I had no idea what was in store for me until I hit May. Wow. That was like being run over by a Mack truck. Every single day. Because I wasn't just stressed by my job or the time of the year, I was also stressed emotionally.
A good friend of mine warned me about graduating seniors. The stress they put on those teachers who truly love them and the hole they can rip in your heart.
That sounds dramatic, huh? Let me explain.
We'll establish some points first.
1. I truly loved my seniors. That was easy enough.
2. They were already special to me because they were my first seniors.
3. We were all looking forward to being friends.
So then their last day happens. We had our awards day, and it was wonderful. We all laughed knowing laughs when I described The Manipulator, shed some tears when I revealed The Arm, and gasped in amazement when we saw the portraits of The Emotional Arguer and The Possessor. It was a fun hour. It was a fun last day for them as well. I had visits and company in all of my subsequent hours. I tried to soak it in.
Then I accompanied the seniors on their senior skip day. It was a great day. Go Karts, rock climbing, Olive Garden, ice skating, the mall, seeing a movie. One of them couldn't make it on the trip however. My first pangs of sadness began.
That weekend my friend, Ann, and I tagged cars with my fellow teacher, Mr. G. Senior cars. And it was such a fun night. Especially because my "sons" showed up and played a great prank on me. Sidenote: that is why I love teaching in a small town. I could never interact with my students in that way if I was in a larger town or school. We ran around, tagged the cars, and had an awesome time.
Then came graduation day. I visited receptions all afternoon. They were good. Not painful at all. Then came graduation. I did my part. I sang. It went well. Then graduation started. They walked across the stage and got their pieces of paper and turned their tassels. Yes, I cried. They were done. I was done officially teaching them and having an established place in their lives.
That evening I went to another reception. I had a good time. I'll admit, I felt a little out of place at times. I imagine it'll take me a few more years to be able to just sit with people from around town and feel like I'm part of the conversation. Sometimes I still feel like an outsider. And there were other circumstances at hand. Anyway, there was a jumbo Jenga game. Saturday Night Live to watch (a favorite of mine, of course). And an Xbox trivia game which I dominated.
Then came the last official week of school. That first day back was torture. I'll admit it. I had an awful day. The rest of the week got better. School ended. Most of my seniors came back to visit with me, which cheered me immensely. The last day of school was celebrated by myself and some fellow employees. That was my first time of relaxation since . . . well, the school year began. Then I went to state track and state baseball.
And now I'm sitting here on my front porch and it's the second night of my official summer.
And I feel lonely.
And I feel bored.
And I feel unproductive.
Even though this is only my second day alone.
Even though I have lots of things on my summer To Do list.
Even though I've already worked through a few of them.
I used to do so well when it came to getting people in my life. I had finally become comfortable with calling up people and getting things together. I truly believe that loneliness is a choice. There are lots of people that I love that I know love me back and would really enjoy spending time together. The fact that I sit at home alone is entirely up to me because hey! I have a phone. I can call them. And they would most likely come over.
The hard part is that the people here that I love and want to spend time with were my students less than two weeks ago. Calling them and inviting them to actually hang out with me and do things still feels taboo. Talking to them is no problem. But setting up hang out times? I'm nervous and insecure all over again. What if they don't want to hang out with me? What if it's too weird? What if I'm boring and uncool and blah blah blah.
Lame, huh?
This is why insecurity is so annoying to the people who have to hear about it from others.
Because it's so STUPID.
For all I know they're feeling the same things I am, only on the other side of the coin. I bet they're thinking, "Why would Miss Martin (whoops, I meant to call her MB!) want to hang out with me? I'm probably not old enough for her to want to hang out. I bet she'd think hanging out with me was boring or stupid."
Ugh.
Come on new friends! Let's be boring together!
Showing posts with label Teaching. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Teaching. Show all posts
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
Sunday, May 1, 2011
Back to school
Ok, so you're going to think I'm crazy.
But then again, you think that about me relatively often if you are a regular follower of this blog. I'm ok with that.
Anyway, here it is:
I miss school.
Not the teaching part. And don't worry, just because my students are currently whining about going through Shakespeare and suffering from major cases of extremely contagious Senioritis does not mean that I hate teaching. Fact: I still love teaching.
No, what I miss is actually being a student.
No, no, no, OK, seriously, hear me out.
Come on, stay with me (See? I told you you'd think I was crazy!) just let me explain.
Tonight at youth group an amazing man came and taught us how to look at the book of Revelation through the filter of the book of Daniel. He went about a million miles per hour, was crazy enthusiastic, and brought handouts and a PowerPoint to go with it.
I was in love.
Seriously. I loved being a student. And tonight I was sitting there on the edge of the pew, pencil poised to catch every tidbit I could while I flipped furiously through my Bible trying to keep up with him.
Now, granted, in high school it was a little hit and miss. Trust me, I did not sit in math or history like that. In math I was too busy trying to make my notes look fun and interesting, and in history I was too busy either doodling in my notebook or wondering what my teacher had had for breakfast because pieces of it were still stuck in his beard and on his collar (true story).
And, if I'm honest, I didn't quite sit like that in English all the time. Except when we did a few novels that I really loved. Or poetry. I was always attentive for that.
But man, oh man. College was a different story. With the major exceptions of anything math-related, Psychology, or Linguistics, I was totally different.
Writing About Film was a revelation. I thought I understood films and how to read them. That class totally opened my eyes. I devoured every film clip we watched in class and then went home, rented the films on Netflix, and went over it again. I watched films over and over again, looking at the use of framing, cuts, color, pacing, angles, music, and symbols. This class gave me a greater love for Altman and more disdain for Scorsese and his overdone symbolism. We get it, he's a Christ-figure, does he really have to die in the crucifix position in slow motion?
Introduction to Logic was such an incredible class that I voluntarily took the Advanced Logic class. I convinced other friends to take it. I learned how to use people's words like math equations. It made me a better arguer, helped me understand syntax and how essential it is to meaning, and grounded me in reality. Not the depressing kind of realism. Just, well, real realism.
Anthropology was fascinating. Even though my father says that it's not a real science I still found it engrossing. Why do people operate the way they do? Why do we congregate? How do other cultures work? What makes them separate from us and what makes us similar? I found that I loved the differences and the nuances in each culture. And I also found that those differences make other cultures (And culture-groups within America) more precious. I love cultural differences and I'm not afraid to admit it.
And all my English classes. It's safe to assume that I love books. It's also safe to assume that I love analyzing literature; therefore, my English classes in college were great. Mostly. There were two with whats-her-name who shall never be mentioned again (she gave me a C once), but otherwise, they were great!
Ah, I miss it.
Oh, but not my education classes.
Sorry to all of you who are future educators, but wow. Those classes. If anything ever felt like a bigger waste of money . . . man. I learned more in my semester of Student Teaching than I did in the previous three full of classes about Diversity, Methods, and Management.
But hey. You gotta do what you gotta do.
And without them, I wouldn't be here.
So, it's all good.
But then again, you think that about me relatively often if you are a regular follower of this blog. I'm ok with that.
Anyway, here it is:
I miss school.
Not the teaching part. And don't worry, just because my students are currently whining about going through Shakespeare and suffering from major cases of extremely contagious Senioritis does not mean that I hate teaching. Fact: I still love teaching.
No, what I miss is actually being a student.
No, no, no, OK, seriously, hear me out.
Come on, stay with me (See? I told you you'd think I was crazy!) just let me explain.
Tonight at youth group an amazing man came and taught us how to look at the book of Revelation through the filter of the book of Daniel. He went about a million miles per hour, was crazy enthusiastic, and brought handouts and a PowerPoint to go with it.
I was in love.
Seriously. I loved being a student. And tonight I was sitting there on the edge of the pew, pencil poised to catch every tidbit I could while I flipped furiously through my Bible trying to keep up with him.
Now, granted, in high school it was a little hit and miss. Trust me, I did not sit in math or history like that. In math I was too busy trying to make my notes look fun and interesting, and in history I was too busy either doodling in my notebook or wondering what my teacher had had for breakfast because pieces of it were still stuck in his beard and on his collar (true story).
And, if I'm honest, I didn't quite sit like that in English all the time. Except when we did a few novels that I really loved. Or poetry. I was always attentive for that.
But man, oh man. College was a different story. With the major exceptions of anything math-related, Psychology, or Linguistics, I was totally different.
Writing About Film was a revelation. I thought I understood films and how to read them. That class totally opened my eyes. I devoured every film clip we watched in class and then went home, rented the films on Netflix, and went over it again. I watched films over and over again, looking at the use of framing, cuts, color, pacing, angles, music, and symbols. This class gave me a greater love for Altman and more disdain for Scorsese and his overdone symbolism. We get it, he's a Christ-figure, does he really have to die in the crucifix position in slow motion?
Introduction to Logic was such an incredible class that I voluntarily took the Advanced Logic class. I convinced other friends to take it. I learned how to use people's words like math equations. It made me a better arguer, helped me understand syntax and how essential it is to meaning, and grounded me in reality. Not the depressing kind of realism. Just, well, real realism.
Anthropology was fascinating. Even though my father says that it's not a real science I still found it engrossing. Why do people operate the way they do? Why do we congregate? How do other cultures work? What makes them separate from us and what makes us similar? I found that I loved the differences and the nuances in each culture. And I also found that those differences make other cultures (And culture-groups within America) more precious. I love cultural differences and I'm not afraid to admit it.
And all my English classes. It's safe to assume that I love books. It's also safe to assume that I love analyzing literature; therefore, my English classes in college were great. Mostly. There were two with whats-her-name who shall never be mentioned again (she gave me a C once), but otherwise, they were great!
Ah, I miss it.
Oh, but not my education classes.
Sorry to all of you who are future educators, but wow. Those classes. If anything ever felt like a bigger waste of money . . . man. I learned more in my semester of Student Teaching than I did in the previous three full of classes about Diversity, Methods, and Management.
But hey. You gotta do what you gotta do.
And without them, I wouldn't be here.
So, it's all good.
Friday, April 15, 2011
Ouch!
The next few days are tough. I said goodbye to The Monolith a year ago today. Part of me feels rather stupid for knowing that and caring. The other part of me is fully aware that I am STILL healing. You'd think after a year I'd be healed. But, well, anyone who's had to heal from lost love....you understand.
But I'm not here to drag you down. Or at least I'm not trying to do that.
I've been rather snippy or frustrated with my students lately. Some in particular. I believe this is the reason. Not the whole reason, mind you, but part of the reason.
The other part is that I'm ready for summer to be here. I'm ready to relax! And frankly, when my students act stupid in class a lot of me is just really ready to laugh with them. But I still have to teach and maintain order. So then not only am I frustrated that students are goofing off during class time, I'm also doubly frustrated that I still have to be, you know, a TEACHER and put them back on task.
Cause if I still have to do my job then, by golly, they better do theirs. Cause it's just not fair!
Ok, all whining aside, I'm working on not being so frustrated.
And hey! I actually have something fun for you all to end this rather varied blog post.
So I am not one who can stand or sit still. I am a fidgeter. I talk VERY expressively with my hands, swing my feet, sway back and forth, etc. And usually to the amusement of all around.
Ok, so then yesterday I'm in the computer lab with my seniors, who are working diligently on their research papers, and I'm leaning against the counter. As usual, I'm swaying back and forth against the counter.
Suddenly, I feel a rather sharp pain in my right butt cheek.
That's right, you heard me. Butt cheek.
I freeze, and I KNOW my eyes got really wide all of a sudden. Someone asks, "Miss Martin, what's wrong?" I simply smile and say, "Oh, nothing!" while trying to maintain a normal smile.
Luckily the bell is going to ring in one minute, so I just wait for the one male in the room to leave and promptly thrust my hand down the back of my pants.
Sorry for the graphics, but hey, if something stabbed into your butt cheek YOU try walking all the way to bathroom to do that.
Needless to say I found the culprit. A nice splinter, about 3/4inch long. It was ALL THE WAY inside my pants. AND lodged in my flesh.
Ouch.
There are so many jokes I could make at this point, but seeing as all of them are highly inappropriate, I'll hold off.
Let's just say that I'm sure you could imagine a few....
But I'm not here to drag you down. Or at least I'm not trying to do that.
I've been rather snippy or frustrated with my students lately. Some in particular. I believe this is the reason. Not the whole reason, mind you, but part of the reason.
The other part is that I'm ready for summer to be here. I'm ready to relax! And frankly, when my students act stupid in class a lot of me is just really ready to laugh with them. But I still have to teach and maintain order. So then not only am I frustrated that students are goofing off during class time, I'm also doubly frustrated that I still have to be, you know, a TEACHER and put them back on task.
Cause if I still have to do my job then, by golly, they better do theirs. Cause it's just not fair!
Ok, all whining aside, I'm working on not being so frustrated.
And hey! I actually have something fun for you all to end this rather varied blog post.
So I am not one who can stand or sit still. I am a fidgeter. I talk VERY expressively with my hands, swing my feet, sway back and forth, etc. And usually to the amusement of all around.
Ok, so then yesterday I'm in the computer lab with my seniors, who are working diligently on their research papers, and I'm leaning against the counter. As usual, I'm swaying back and forth against the counter.
Suddenly, I feel a rather sharp pain in my right butt cheek.
That's right, you heard me. Butt cheek.
I freeze, and I KNOW my eyes got really wide all of a sudden. Someone asks, "Miss Martin, what's wrong?" I simply smile and say, "Oh, nothing!" while trying to maintain a normal smile.
Luckily the bell is going to ring in one minute, so I just wait for the one male in the room to leave and promptly thrust my hand down the back of my pants.
Sorry for the graphics, but hey, if something stabbed into your butt cheek YOU try walking all the way to bathroom to do that.
Needless to say I found the culprit. A nice splinter, about 3/4inch long. It was ALL THE WAY inside my pants. AND lodged in my flesh.
Ouch.
There are so many jokes I could make at this point, but seeing as all of them are highly inappropriate, I'll hold off.
Let's just say that I'm sure you could imagine a few....
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Silliness and a serious case of the tingles
Hello my faithful followers.
I'm trying to be a faithful blogger for you. Sometimes it's hard. I mean, I'm sure we're very similar. This means that many of the thoughts floating around my head are nothing new. Just same old thoughts. Floatin' around. Gettin' kinda annoying. This sort of makes it hard to write things for you. And unless something hilarious happens to me I doubt any of you would be interested in the goings on of my life.
Although (and I blush to confess it) I did manage to burn a cake tonight. I know. To cinders. Ugh. Maybe I can cook, but bake? Not exactly. Dang. But it's ok anyway. It was a pineapple cake, and don't ask me why I had one. I don't know. Cause I sure wasn't going to like it anyway. Now I love pineapples, but as a cake? Meh.
See? That was my one anecdote from the day. Pineapples and burnt cakes. Aren't you glad I shared? Don't you feel enlightened? Entertained? No? See? Told you.
Oh, or how about this? I tried on my old dresses from high school today. Yep, they still fit. And I look better in them now.
Yeah.....that was definitely interesting.
Last night a friend and I chatted about my high school days. We went through my old yearbooks, reading comments, laughing at the things people wrote, "aww"ing at the sweet or touching things from friends, and counting up the number of guys I had crushes on each year. Sophomore year was the worst: 12. And that's only the boys who signed my yearbook...
Oh my readers. You have no idea how ridiculously boy crazy I used to be. I'm calmer now, thankfully.
But it made me think about high school. And how much I lived for theatre and choir. Lived for them, people. They were my passions. I know now that theatre was a passion because I loved the people. I loved being in front of an audience and keeping them entertained. And I loved music because, well, it is the foundation of my soul.
Dang, that's deep.
My love of theatre has transferred in interesting ways.
I love entertaining people. Keeping them laughing. Cracking jokes. Making the offhanded comment that puts people in stitches. As any of my friends can tell you, I bank a lot of my personality on the fact that I'm short, cute, and silly. I lessened early on that I cannot tell a joke or make a whip smart remark very well (although the "your face" formula has yet to let me down), so instead I channeled my ability to entertain into being the one that people laughed AT.
Luckily, God made me naturally clumsy, quirky, and fun-sized--all a rather brilliant combination for being laughed at.
My love of theatre also transferred into being a teacher. Thanks to years of performing I can easily tell when I'm losing an audience, and I'm always thinking in terms of keeping my audience's attention. And if I'm losing it then I just act dumb for a second, people laugh, and we get right back on track.
Ah, manipulation. So good.
In all honesty, it's the people who are closest to me, who I trust most, and who know the real me who get to see my seriousness. The quiet me. If I haven't made a joke in thirty minutes and we're just hanging out, don't worry. Nothing is wrong. You're actually just seeing regular ol' MB. The one without the silly games or the shows of clumsiness or quirky gestures. Although, real MB makes gestures too. Dangit.
And music. We all know music is my soul. And in high school that was choir.
I was asked what my favorite song was. And i wanted to choose something hip. Something edgy. But really, all I can think of is a choir piece.
Nerd alert!
This piece is written for men. It's Franz Beibel's arrangement of "Ave Maria" and I've never in my life heard anything more beautiful produced by the human voice. When I listen to this piece, I lay on the floor. I soak in the exquisite harmonies and the so-beautiful-they're-painful dissonances. Chills creep over me and my heart speeds up. When the "Amen"s begin at the end of the piece I feel like my heart could burst out of my chest, slowly at first, but then building in a crescendo of sound that topples me over the edge.
Phew. Almost makes me blush to read that. But that's this piece for me. It's an almost tangible experience. Take a listen. Please.
Enjoy.
And you're welcome for the tingles.
I'm trying to be a faithful blogger for you. Sometimes it's hard. I mean, I'm sure we're very similar. This means that many of the thoughts floating around my head are nothing new. Just same old thoughts. Floatin' around. Gettin' kinda annoying. This sort of makes it hard to write things for you. And unless something hilarious happens to me I doubt any of you would be interested in the goings on of my life.
Although (and I blush to confess it) I did manage to burn a cake tonight. I know. To cinders. Ugh. Maybe I can cook, but bake? Not exactly. Dang. But it's ok anyway. It was a pineapple cake, and don't ask me why I had one. I don't know. Cause I sure wasn't going to like it anyway. Now I love pineapples, but as a cake? Meh.
See? That was my one anecdote from the day. Pineapples and burnt cakes. Aren't you glad I shared? Don't you feel enlightened? Entertained? No? See? Told you.
Oh, or how about this? I tried on my old dresses from high school today. Yep, they still fit. And I look better in them now.
Yeah.....that was definitely interesting.
Last night a friend and I chatted about my high school days. We went through my old yearbooks, reading comments, laughing at the things people wrote, "aww"ing at the sweet or touching things from friends, and counting up the number of guys I had crushes on each year. Sophomore year was the worst: 12. And that's only the boys who signed my yearbook...
Oh my readers. You have no idea how ridiculously boy crazy I used to be. I'm calmer now, thankfully.
But it made me think about high school. And how much I lived for theatre and choir. Lived for them, people. They were my passions. I know now that theatre was a passion because I loved the people. I loved being in front of an audience and keeping them entertained. And I loved music because, well, it is the foundation of my soul.
Dang, that's deep.
My love of theatre has transferred in interesting ways.
I love entertaining people. Keeping them laughing. Cracking jokes. Making the offhanded comment that puts people in stitches. As any of my friends can tell you, I bank a lot of my personality on the fact that I'm short, cute, and silly. I lessened early on that I cannot tell a joke or make a whip smart remark very well (although the "your face" formula has yet to let me down), so instead I channeled my ability to entertain into being the one that people laughed AT.
Luckily, God made me naturally clumsy, quirky, and fun-sized--all a rather brilliant combination for being laughed at.
My love of theatre also transferred into being a teacher. Thanks to years of performing I can easily tell when I'm losing an audience, and I'm always thinking in terms of keeping my audience's attention. And if I'm losing it then I just act dumb for a second, people laugh, and we get right back on track.
Ah, manipulation. So good.
In all honesty, it's the people who are closest to me, who I trust most, and who know the real me who get to see my seriousness. The quiet me. If I haven't made a joke in thirty minutes and we're just hanging out, don't worry. Nothing is wrong. You're actually just seeing regular ol' MB. The one without the silly games or the shows of clumsiness or quirky gestures. Although, real MB makes gestures too. Dangit.
And music. We all know music is my soul. And in high school that was choir.
I was asked what my favorite song was. And i wanted to choose something hip. Something edgy. But really, all I can think of is a choir piece.
Nerd alert!
This piece is written for men. It's Franz Beibel's arrangement of "Ave Maria" and I've never in my life heard anything more beautiful produced by the human voice. When I listen to this piece, I lay on the floor. I soak in the exquisite harmonies and the so-beautiful-they're-painful dissonances. Chills creep over me and my heart speeds up. When the "Amen"s begin at the end of the piece I feel like my heart could burst out of my chest, slowly at first, but then building in a crescendo of sound that topples me over the edge.
Phew. Almost makes me blush to read that. But that's this piece for me. It's an almost tangible experience. Take a listen. Please.
Enjoy.
And you're welcome for the tingles.
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Give 'em a swift kick in the Alberts
Dear boys, this is a warning. This post gets all sorts of girly. Get out while you still can.
And, no, I'm not talking clothes and makeup and jewelry....none of which I like very much anyway. Ok, I lied. I sometimes love makeup, but not in the summer.
And no, I'm not talking mushy feelings crap either. Although there was plenty of that going on in my head today and some will get mentioned here.
No, I'm talking about genuine, biological, girly. You ready?
Yeah.
Hormones suck.
I learned early on that I am led ALL sorts of crazy by my stupid hormones. I used to just let them wash over me without really knowing what was going on or how to get control of them. Suddenly, around the third week of the month (I am as reliable as Big Ben, people) my emotions would start swinging more and more rapidly among depths of despair, dying for a boyfriend (or dying to be with the current one), expansively joyful, and incredibly pissed off.
Dude, I totally get it when you men utterly don't understand us. The feeling is mutual, my friends.
I'd like to say that I got it after a few years, but sadly, it took me about seven years to realize what was going on and over ten years to start correcting it successfully.
Yes. Over ten. No. I'm not old. I was simply an early bloomer. Very early. Let's just say I could technically be the mother of some of my students. Yikes and yikes.
Anywho, I started to get it under control.
But sometimes, my brain and body chemistry has a will of its own. Some months I can just feel it. This one is going to be a doozy. Too much is built up, too much is happening right at the perfect (or worst, if you're a pessimist) time, too many stupid feelings are flying around.
And, by the way, I kind of dislike feelings. They're sneaky. They can't be trusted. Cause dang, mine are here and gone in, like, two seconds. Not joking, I've had crushes on people where I honestly (and this is embarrassing, ok?) thought that we were fated to be together for life. And uh, I barely knew the guys. And yes, I said guys. Plural. That's why it's embarrassing. If you're meant to be with one person for life and it's fate, then thinking that I'm fated to be with one guy after another is a serious flaw in my ability to pair logic with STUPID feelings.
This is also why I am the LAST person to realize when someone has feelings for me. Since I don't trust feelings I ignore the signs from others....I mean, why trust those either, right? Seriously. If I don't hear the exact words I won't believe it. Yeah. Nice, I know.
Anyway AGAIN, sorry for the long digressions.
This month? This week. Ayi mama, it promised to be a doozy.
And I should probably never say those words again. They sort of don't work for me.
And today? Oh today. It showed just how much of a perfect storm my hormones and life situations can create. I'm hopeful most students didn't catch on. I know some did, unfortunately. I like to think of those who did as having Martin radar. They watch me closely and pick up on the littlest things about me. And you know exactly who you are.
But man. Great mood this morning. Then SUPER pissed. Then annoyed. Then sad. Then lonely. Then that sort-of angry lonely where it's like life is taunting you just to be a B. Then I felt like crying. Yep. For the first time ever I felt like crying at school today. Because of things at school. Twice. Yikes.
I my hormones had balls I would kick them. Sorry. Violence. Never pretty.
And, no, I'm not talking clothes and makeup and jewelry....none of which I like very much anyway. Ok, I lied. I sometimes love makeup, but not in the summer.
And no, I'm not talking mushy feelings crap either. Although there was plenty of that going on in my head today and some will get mentioned here.
No, I'm talking about genuine, biological, girly. You ready?
Yeah.
Hormones suck.
I learned early on that I am led ALL sorts of crazy by my stupid hormones. I used to just let them wash over me without really knowing what was going on or how to get control of them. Suddenly, around the third week of the month (I am as reliable as Big Ben, people) my emotions would start swinging more and more rapidly among depths of despair, dying for a boyfriend (or dying to be with the current one), expansively joyful, and incredibly pissed off.
Dude, I totally get it when you men utterly don't understand us. The feeling is mutual, my friends.
I'd like to say that I got it after a few years, but sadly, it took me about seven years to realize what was going on and over ten years to start correcting it successfully.
Yes. Over ten. No. I'm not old. I was simply an early bloomer. Very early. Let's just say I could technically be the mother of some of my students. Yikes and yikes.
Anywho, I started to get it under control.
But sometimes, my brain and body chemistry has a will of its own. Some months I can just feel it. This one is going to be a doozy. Too much is built up, too much is happening right at the perfect (or worst, if you're a pessimist) time, too many stupid feelings are flying around.
And, by the way, I kind of dislike feelings. They're sneaky. They can't be trusted. Cause dang, mine are here and gone in, like, two seconds. Not joking, I've had crushes on people where I honestly (and this is embarrassing, ok?) thought that we were fated to be together for life. And uh, I barely knew the guys. And yes, I said guys. Plural. That's why it's embarrassing. If you're meant to be with one person for life and it's fate, then thinking that I'm fated to be with one guy after another is a serious flaw in my ability to pair logic with STUPID feelings.
This is also why I am the LAST person to realize when someone has feelings for me. Since I don't trust feelings I ignore the signs from others....I mean, why trust those either, right? Seriously. If I don't hear the exact words I won't believe it. Yeah. Nice, I know.
Anyway AGAIN, sorry for the long digressions.
This month? This week. Ayi mama, it promised to be a doozy.
And I should probably never say those words again. They sort of don't work for me.
And today? Oh today. It showed just how much of a perfect storm my hormones and life situations can create. I'm hopeful most students didn't catch on. I know some did, unfortunately. I like to think of those who did as having Martin radar. They watch me closely and pick up on the littlest things about me. And you know exactly who you are.
But man. Great mood this morning. Then SUPER pissed. Then annoyed. Then sad. Then lonely. Then that sort-of angry lonely where it's like life is taunting you just to be a B. Then I felt like crying. Yep. For the first time ever I felt like crying at school today. Because of things at school. Twice. Yikes.
I my hormones had balls I would kick them. Sorry. Violence. Never pretty.
Saturday, March 19, 2011
Santa Fe: Part Two
Ok, my rabid readers. I'm home from Santa Fe now and incredibly happy to be so. It was beautiful. It was fun. It was wonderful to get some quality time with the rents (especially since I never get to see them). But in all honesty, I missed Ashland.
I know my parents (Dad especially) think I'm crazy for how much I love my little town. They love the city (Dad especially). I love it too. But I found what my heart loves more. And that's this town with these people that I've met. Honestly, I've made some true heart friends out here, I've grown into myself (finally), and I've found a job that I look forward to each day with joy. I know that at least makes them very happy even if it does mean that they're losing their sophisticated city girl to small town Kansas. Cause I'm totally happy about that.
Ok, let's recap that last half of Santa Fe, shall we? How about another top ten things. Sounds good to me.
1. I am totally backwards with long drives. Bright sun and heat make me want to do nothing but sleep. And sleep I did on the long drive to and from Taos. Which was a fun trip but the main reason we went--which was to see the pueblo--was unavailable. Disappointing. BUT....
2. I again looked at shiny and pretty things. Jewelry always calls my name. And I have to look at it and say, "Silly jewelry, why do you call my name? You know I'll never ever wear you." Which is totally true. I actually really dislike the look of things hanging around my neck. If I were a guy, I'd totally think that a sweep of bare neck was much sexier than one with shiny things obscuring it. But maybe that's just me.
3. Ok, can I start this by saying that I'm a toucher? I can't help it. I see something that interests me and, like a five-year-old, I have to reach out and touch it. So, naturally, I see a metal sculpture of a salamander I find interesting. Not because I particularly like salamanders, but simply because I wanted to feel the metal. I place it back on the shelf, it nudges the little ceramic sculpture behind it, and in slow motion I watch a little green tree frog topple onto the floor and break. Excellent. My mom thinks I should keep it. I think it's only a reminder that sometimes I'm more immature than my fourteen-year-old students. But perhaps that's a good thing......
4. I introduced my mom to the world of toe shoes (whose official brand name is Vibram). She got herself a pair and, since the sales lady was kind enough to give us 10% off, I took the opportunity to get myself a new pair: all black with only a strap across the foot. Love. Them. Oh, and the sales lady asked if I was a toe girl. Um, yes, hello? I walked on my tiptoes EVERYWHERE when I was little. I used my toes instead of hands to pick things up. I would give thumbs ups with my toes. And......
5. I still walk on my toes. And Vibrams make me want to do it a lot. So what do I do on a stop on the way in to Taos? I walk around the courtyard (seemingly alone) on my tip toes. What do I learn later? My father was spying on me with his video camera, capturing every second. And let's just say I look ridiculous. Not to mention all I can stare at is my butt, which he got a lovely close-up of to catch my feet and legs. Ugh.
6. That place, however, was lovely. The Santuario de Chimayo. Thousands of Catholics journey from Alburqueque to this place once a year because it is said that the dirt has healing properties. I have to say, the place itself seems to have healing properties. I felt refreshed there. Calm. Content. Even with unanswered questions in my life. It was a good stop.
7. Drinks at the home of my dad's friend Bob and his husband Hector. SUCH a lovely home (and very tasty margaritas). I enjoyed their company immensely, and ate a LOT of guacamole (one of my favorite things). Also, their backyard overlooks the place where True Grit was shot. That's right, my fears. I got to see the place where True Grit was filmed. I know that at least a few of you will appreciate that. Please feel free to be jealous.
8. I dressed up every time we went to dinner. My parents did not. I don't know why they didn't. That's one area where the city in me will never leave, I guess. Dinner out is FUN. And if you're going to go out then why not GO OUT, you know? Dress up! Darken that eyeliner! Put on the heels! Honestly, part of it is that I never get to REALLY dress up. I mean, my students see me looking nice, but not dressed to go OUT. So you bet I will take any chance I can get to smolder out there. Even if it is just my parents!
9. I read two whole books on the drives. Holy cow. That's a lot for me right now. My reading in the last few months has consisted of what my students read. Next year will be better since I won't have to spend SO much time reading and rereading what I'm going to teach them. And the best part about my reading? It's all self-contained on my E-reader which means that I can carry around hundreds of books all on one slim little device. Perfect!
10. Santa Fe is all artists and good food. And I think we over-indulged on both. I missed my music. And I know I'll greet my briefly fuller frame with annoyance for a bit. Luckily, the weather is nicer, so all I have to do is slip on my new Vibrams, put my sweet bike pants, and hop on the Trek for a few miles. Or a few hours. Whatever works.
Only two more days of freedom before it's back to the grindstone.
And then one month to Prom.
And two months to graduation.
And then one more week until school is out.
I mean, look. I love my job.
But I'm ready for summer and all that comes with it.
I know my parents (Dad especially) think I'm crazy for how much I love my little town. They love the city (Dad especially). I love it too. But I found what my heart loves more. And that's this town with these people that I've met. Honestly, I've made some true heart friends out here, I've grown into myself (finally), and I've found a job that I look forward to each day with joy. I know that at least makes them very happy even if it does mean that they're losing their sophisticated city girl to small town Kansas. Cause I'm totally happy about that.
Ok, let's recap that last half of Santa Fe, shall we? How about another top ten things. Sounds good to me.
1. I am totally backwards with long drives. Bright sun and heat make me want to do nothing but sleep. And sleep I did on the long drive to and from Taos. Which was a fun trip but the main reason we went--which was to see the pueblo--was unavailable. Disappointing. BUT....
2. I again looked at shiny and pretty things. Jewelry always calls my name. And I have to look at it and say, "Silly jewelry, why do you call my name? You know I'll never ever wear you." Which is totally true. I actually really dislike the look of things hanging around my neck. If I were a guy, I'd totally think that a sweep of bare neck was much sexier than one with shiny things obscuring it. But maybe that's just me.
3. Ok, can I start this by saying that I'm a toucher? I can't help it. I see something that interests me and, like a five-year-old, I have to reach out and touch it. So, naturally, I see a metal sculpture of a salamander I find interesting. Not because I particularly like salamanders, but simply because I wanted to feel the metal. I place it back on the shelf, it nudges the little ceramic sculpture behind it, and in slow motion I watch a little green tree frog topple onto the floor and break. Excellent. My mom thinks I should keep it. I think it's only a reminder that sometimes I'm more immature than my fourteen-year-old students. But perhaps that's a good thing......
4. I introduced my mom to the world of toe shoes (whose official brand name is Vibram). She got herself a pair and, since the sales lady was kind enough to give us 10% off, I took the opportunity to get myself a new pair: all black with only a strap across the foot. Love. Them. Oh, and the sales lady asked if I was a toe girl. Um, yes, hello? I walked on my tiptoes EVERYWHERE when I was little. I used my toes instead of hands to pick things up. I would give thumbs ups with my toes. And......
5. I still walk on my toes. And Vibrams make me want to do it a lot. So what do I do on a stop on the way in to Taos? I walk around the courtyard (seemingly alone) on my tip toes. What do I learn later? My father was spying on me with his video camera, capturing every second. And let's just say I look ridiculous. Not to mention all I can stare at is my butt, which he got a lovely close-up of to catch my feet and legs. Ugh.
6. That place, however, was lovely. The Santuario de Chimayo. Thousands of Catholics journey from Alburqueque to this place once a year because it is said that the dirt has healing properties. I have to say, the place itself seems to have healing properties. I felt refreshed there. Calm. Content. Even with unanswered questions in my life. It was a good stop.
7. Drinks at the home of my dad's friend Bob and his husband Hector. SUCH a lovely home (and very tasty margaritas). I enjoyed their company immensely, and ate a LOT of guacamole (one of my favorite things). Also, their backyard overlooks the place where True Grit was shot. That's right, my fears. I got to see the place where True Grit was filmed. I know that at least a few of you will appreciate that. Please feel free to be jealous.
8. I dressed up every time we went to dinner. My parents did not. I don't know why they didn't. That's one area where the city in me will never leave, I guess. Dinner out is FUN. And if you're going to go out then why not GO OUT, you know? Dress up! Darken that eyeliner! Put on the heels! Honestly, part of it is that I never get to REALLY dress up. I mean, my students see me looking nice, but not dressed to go OUT. So you bet I will take any chance I can get to smolder out there. Even if it is just my parents!
9. I read two whole books on the drives. Holy cow. That's a lot for me right now. My reading in the last few months has consisted of what my students read. Next year will be better since I won't have to spend SO much time reading and rereading what I'm going to teach them. And the best part about my reading? It's all self-contained on my E-reader which means that I can carry around hundreds of books all on one slim little device. Perfect!
10. Santa Fe is all artists and good food. And I think we over-indulged on both. I missed my music. And I know I'll greet my briefly fuller frame with annoyance for a bit. Luckily, the weather is nicer, so all I have to do is slip on my new Vibrams, put my sweet bike pants, and hop on the Trek for a few miles. Or a few hours. Whatever works.
Only two more days of freedom before it's back to the grindstone.
And then one month to Prom.
And two months to graduation.
And then one more week until school is out.
I mean, look. I love my job.
But I'm ready for summer and all that comes with it.
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
The beauty amid the pain
This last weekend I went to watch our basketball team play in the Sub-State tournament. It was an exciting game. I never thought I would enjoy basketball as much as I did, but I found out that I like it quite a bit. I think a lot of it had to do with watching our team. Sometimes those boys can be little snots in the classroom (but don't worry, I still love 'em), but on the court, they are great together. They love each other. They give to each other. They are family.
We lost the game. It was heartbreaking. We all cried. I wanted to hug each one of them. I was so proud of them all.
And have you ever noticed that sometimes there's something exquisitely, terribly beautiful about pain captured on film? I'm not taking credit for these pictures. They were taken by someone else. I merely photo-shopped them a bit. But man, these pictures really capture those moments after the final buzzer. And they are painful. And they are beautiful.
And you are welcome to take them and use them as you please if you like the way they've been photo-shopped.
Sunday, February 6, 2011
15 weeks until summer . . .
I said I was going to post this weekend. I promised. And the weekend is rapidly coming to a close. So it's post or consider myself a liar.
I'm not a liar.
Mostly because it's wrong but also because I'm bad at it. Ok, mostly because I'm bad at it. Thanks, God, for making me bad at it because I clearly lack the moral standards to do right for the sake of doing right.
The thing about saying I was going to post, however, is this:
I have no idea what to write.
My emotions have been all over the place this week.
I have gone from thinking the world of the young men and women about to enter real life to despair at the fact that they ALL have so much more growing up to do. Seriously. I was really spiraling on Thursday night, and that's rare for me. I actually had to go out and distract myself from the increasingly depressing thoughts swimming in my head.
I've giggled like an eight year old talking about her first crush with a girlfriend. The struggles of my heart lifted for a bit, and I had a chance to just enjoy chatting about boys with my friend. To have fun with the fact that I actually have crushes for the first time in a LONG time.
I have tried to help a friend going through a rough time, and run the gamut of emotions with that situation. Sympathy, pity, sorrow, frustration, exasperation, annoyance, concern. I want to help him, and I want to be there for him, but it's situations like this that show me how mean and cynical I can be sometimes. Seriously, without Jesus I would be quite mean to others.
My head and heart have been busy this week.
I've realized something.
Ok, one of my Spiritual gifts is discernment. I can see who people are at their core, what they need to grow in, and who they could potentially be.
This should be helpful in teaching because I can pinpoint things in students, help them grow, and know how to encourage them. However, sometimes my nature prompts me to overlook their faults. I just skip straight to the potential I see in them.
Naturally, they respond well to that, wouldn't you? If you were an 18 year old who's made his share of mistakes in life and no one ever lets you forget them, wouldn't you be grateful for someone new who doesn't know those things or judge you by them and sees only potential for greatness in you? Of course you would!
And, seriously, my students could be such incredible men and women.
But then a failing or a fault or a past mistake I never knew about becomes clear to me. I find myself saddened or disappointed (which is what was going on this Thursday), and I begin to lose faith in that student.
And that's awful, frankly. That mistake has always been there, but I just didn't know about it. That student is the same student she was five minutes ago BEFORE I knew about this stumbling point in her life. Why should I suddenly doubt her potential or ability?
I shouldn't, duh.
I should instead admire the changes she HAS made. I should push him to make more. I should challenge him to ask himself what he really wants to be in life. I should always expect the absolute best out of her.
...
In other news, it felt so, so, so good to just run around and chill with a friend last night. Someone in my age range. Someone I can relate to and want to talk to. I really needed that.
And I gave a lot of hugs this weekend. It felt good, honestly.
And I really like backs. Big, strong backs.
Oh, and apple butter on toast is divine.
Oh, and I used to only be attracted to brown eyes. I am now attracted to blue eyes as well.
Oh, and an extremely funny and cute movie is one called Barry Munday. It's about a man who loses his balls in an accident and then discovers he's going to have a child. So great.
...
All right, I think that covers everything I promised.
I'm not a liar.
Mostly because it's wrong but also because I'm bad at it. Ok, mostly because I'm bad at it. Thanks, God, for making me bad at it because I clearly lack the moral standards to do right for the sake of doing right.
The thing about saying I was going to post, however, is this:
I have no idea what to write.
My emotions have been all over the place this week.
I have gone from thinking the world of the young men and women about to enter real life to despair at the fact that they ALL have so much more growing up to do. Seriously. I was really spiraling on Thursday night, and that's rare for me. I actually had to go out and distract myself from the increasingly depressing thoughts swimming in my head.
I've giggled like an eight year old talking about her first crush with a girlfriend. The struggles of my heart lifted for a bit, and I had a chance to just enjoy chatting about boys with my friend. To have fun with the fact that I actually have crushes for the first time in a LONG time.
I have tried to help a friend going through a rough time, and run the gamut of emotions with that situation. Sympathy, pity, sorrow, frustration, exasperation, annoyance, concern. I want to help him, and I want to be there for him, but it's situations like this that show me how mean and cynical I can be sometimes. Seriously, without Jesus I would be quite mean to others.
My head and heart have been busy this week.
I've realized something.
Ok, one of my Spiritual gifts is discernment. I can see who people are at their core, what they need to grow in, and who they could potentially be.
This should be helpful in teaching because I can pinpoint things in students, help them grow, and know how to encourage them. However, sometimes my nature prompts me to overlook their faults. I just skip straight to the potential I see in them.
Naturally, they respond well to that, wouldn't you? If you were an 18 year old who's made his share of mistakes in life and no one ever lets you forget them, wouldn't you be grateful for someone new who doesn't know those things or judge you by them and sees only potential for greatness in you? Of course you would!
And, seriously, my students could be such incredible men and women.
But then a failing or a fault or a past mistake I never knew about becomes clear to me. I find myself saddened or disappointed (which is what was going on this Thursday), and I begin to lose faith in that student.
And that's awful, frankly. That mistake has always been there, but I just didn't know about it. That student is the same student she was five minutes ago BEFORE I knew about this stumbling point in her life. Why should I suddenly doubt her potential or ability?
I shouldn't, duh.
I should instead admire the changes she HAS made. I should push him to make more. I should challenge him to ask himself what he really wants to be in life. I should always expect the absolute best out of her.
...
In other news, it felt so, so, so good to just run around and chill with a friend last night. Someone in my age range. Someone I can relate to and want to talk to. I really needed that.
And I gave a lot of hugs this weekend. It felt good, honestly.
And I really like backs. Big, strong backs.
Oh, and apple butter on toast is divine.
Oh, and I used to only be attracted to brown eyes. I am now attracted to blue eyes as well.
Oh, and an extremely funny and cute movie is one called Barry Munday. It's about a man who loses his balls in an accident and then discovers he's going to have a child. So great.
...
All right, I think that covers everything I promised.
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
A quick post...
In case you all weren't aware, I've been pretty sick. Nasty and gross. Ick.
Today marks my third absence from school because of it.
I hate medicine. I am not a fan of going to the doctor. Clinics make me feel strange, and it always smells way too clean in them.
But I am going and braving my fear. For my kids. So they don't pine away for me.
And so I don't, you know, die?
Ah, sometimes my jokes are just for me. But if you've watched a certain Taylor Mali video then you got the joke. And probably hated the irony of my statement.
In other words, hopefully I will be on medication this afternoon and out of the land of the walking dead....
.....and zombies. Awesome.
Today marks my third absence from school because of it.
I hate medicine. I am not a fan of going to the doctor. Clinics make me feel strange, and it always smells way too clean in them.
But I am going and braving my fear. For my kids. So they don't pine away for me.
And so I don't, you know, die?
Ah, sometimes my jokes are just for me. But if you've watched a certain Taylor Mali video then you got the joke. And probably hated the irony of my statement.
In other words, hopefully I will be on medication this afternoon and out of the land of the walking dead....
.....and zombies. Awesome.
Saturday, January 22, 2011
I want to be Spirit stronger . . .
Oh my rabid readers, I've missed you. This is a long one, you ready?
Today we had a five day school week. Wait, you may say. Don't all schools always have a five day week? Silly reader, please try to keep up with my life. Remember? My school is on a four day week. Yes, I've reminded you yet again that you need to be jealous of my life.
Back to the point. Why was it a five day week? Well, because it was homecoming this week. Themed spirit days, the excuse to be silly and dumb, a home game to look forward to, and a visit from a very dear friend of mine? What a great week, right?
Yeah, well, don't get ahead of yourselves my dears. Let me recount the last five days for you.
It begins well enough. Monday and Tuesday, pretty good days. Normal. Uneventful. I dress loudly for Clash Day on Monday. I look awesome for Rock Star Day on Tuesday [just check out that pic!]. I listen to rap with my sophomores for half an hour [for our poetry unit] on Tuesday. And shortly after teaching him how to Dougie [you heard me--want to learn?], I have this conversation with Tubby:
Me: G, why aren't you dressed up for Spirit Week?
G: I'm not a Spirit Weeker, Miss Martin.
Me: You're not a Spirit Weeker?
G: No. I'm a Spirit Stronger.
Ah, loved it. I was a little more tired than normal that night, but I figured it was fine.
No. It wasn't.
I woke up the next morning feeling bad. Not terrible, just bad. Bad enough for a sick day, though. Felt a little better during the day . . . but then it was like someone dropped a ton of bricks on my head. Or a gorilla. Or the Chrysler Building. Then a cough. Then aches. Then a 101.5 fever. Took a second sick day--very unusual for me. I left my bed to do three things that day, and this is how long they took:
1. Relieve myself [sorry, am I embarrassing you?]:
5 minutes
2. Shower [because let's face it, the only thing worse than being sick is feeling disgusting and sick]:
20 minutes
3. Drink some chicken broth and eat some rice [regretted both immediately]:
20 minutes
There you go. Other than that, I was in my overly large, soft, and heated bed all day long. By the end of that second day I hated everything about that bed. Especially the fact that I needed the heated blanket cranked up: I'd shiver violently without it, but ugh, I would sweat like crazy with it [no, thank you 101.5 degree fever!]. Gross.
You hanging in there with me, readers? Sorry, sickness isn't pretty.
Thank the Lord I wake up yesterday morning cool and clammy. Good clammy. Like, fever broke clammy. Not only am I grateful that I can make it to school, I'm doubly excited because that means my dear friend, Kristy, can still come see me.
The day was an interesting mix. Though my fever was gone, I still felt pretty awful. But then again, I was back at school cracking jokes with Tubby. I had to miss my seniors, but I had a great day with my other kids [plus, I actually got good time in with a lot of my seniors yesterday anyway]. I had no lesson plans ready due to the sickness, but just hanging out in 7th hour was a pretty great time. I had an amazing meal prepped for Kristy and I, but I felt too ill to really enjoy it. My voice was slowly leaving me, but I got asked to announce the Homecoming candidates--and even got to announce the winners.
The day's verdict: The fun parts of the day were much more fun than the bad parts of the day were bad.
Make sense? No? Great.
Kristy then taught me how to play a game after the basketball games [which our guys won, and our girls almost did--most exciting girls game yet!]. I was the winner. Or I could have been the loser. It depends on how you look at the game. Either way, we had fun!
After that, and some hemming and hawing, we decided to check out the dance. It wasn't much, to say the least. Sparsely attended. That's not to say I didn't have fun, however. Those of you who know my are very aware that loud dance music suddenly whisks away all pain, fear, and inhibition in me. Well, ok, not all inhibition.
Let's just say I'm looking forward to Prom, which is when I've decided I can dance.
My pal D and I are going to tear it up.
A rather random ending, I know, but I feel this post has gone on long enough, and I need to get some stuff done today. Also, I need to hack up with gravel that is currently sitting in my lungs.
YES.
Today we had a five day school week. Wait, you may say. Don't all schools always have a five day week? Silly reader, please try to keep up with my life. Remember? My school is on a four day week. Yes, I've reminded you yet again that you need to be jealous of my life.
Back to the point. Why was it a five day week? Well, because it was homecoming this week. Themed spirit days, the excuse to be silly and dumb, a home game to look forward to, and a visit from a very dear friend of mine? What a great week, right?Yeah, well, don't get ahead of yourselves my dears. Let me recount the last five days for you.
It begins well enough. Monday and Tuesday, pretty good days. Normal. Uneventful. I dress loudly for Clash Day on Monday. I look awesome for Rock Star Day on Tuesday [just check out that pic!]. I listen to rap with my sophomores for half an hour [for our poetry unit] on Tuesday. And shortly after teaching him how to Dougie [you heard me--want to learn?], I have this conversation with Tubby:
Me: G, why aren't you dressed up for Spirit Week?
G: I'm not a Spirit Weeker, Miss Martin.
Me: You're not a Spirit Weeker?
G: No. I'm a Spirit Stronger.
Ah, loved it. I was a little more tired than normal that night, but I figured it was fine.
No. It wasn't.
I woke up the next morning feeling bad. Not terrible, just bad. Bad enough for a sick day, though. Felt a little better during the day . . . but then it was like someone dropped a ton of bricks on my head. Or a gorilla. Or the Chrysler Building. Then a cough. Then aches. Then a 101.5 fever. Took a second sick day--very unusual for me. I left my bed to do three things that day, and this is how long they took:
1. Relieve myself [sorry, am I embarrassing you?]:
5 minutes
2. Shower [because let's face it, the only thing worse than being sick is feeling disgusting and sick]:
20 minutes
3. Drink some chicken broth and eat some rice [regretted both immediately]:
20 minutes
There you go. Other than that, I was in my overly large, soft, and heated bed all day long. By the end of that second day I hated everything about that bed. Especially the fact that I needed the heated blanket cranked up: I'd shiver violently without it, but ugh, I would sweat like crazy with it [no, thank you 101.5 degree fever!]. Gross.
You hanging in there with me, readers? Sorry, sickness isn't pretty.
Thank the Lord I wake up yesterday morning cool and clammy. Good clammy. Like, fever broke clammy. Not only am I grateful that I can make it to school, I'm doubly excited because that means my dear friend, Kristy, can still come see me.
The day was an interesting mix. Though my fever was gone, I still felt pretty awful. But then again, I was back at school cracking jokes with Tubby. I had to miss my seniors, but I had a great day with my other kids [plus, I actually got good time in with a lot of my seniors yesterday anyway]. I had no lesson plans ready due to the sickness, but just hanging out in 7th hour was a pretty great time. I had an amazing meal prepped for Kristy and I, but I felt too ill to really enjoy it. My voice was slowly leaving me, but I got asked to announce the Homecoming candidates--and even got to announce the winners.
The day's verdict: The fun parts of the day were much more fun than the bad parts of the day were bad.
Make sense? No? Great.
Kristy then taught me how to play a game after the basketball games [which our guys won, and our girls almost did--most exciting girls game yet!]. I was the winner. Or I could have been the loser. It depends on how you look at the game. Either way, we had fun!
After that, and some hemming and hawing, we decided to check out the dance. It wasn't much, to say the least. Sparsely attended. That's not to say I didn't have fun, however. Those of you who know my are very aware that loud dance music suddenly whisks away all pain, fear, and inhibition in me. Well, ok, not all inhibition.
Let's just say I'm looking forward to Prom, which is when I've decided I can dance.
My pal D and I are going to tear it up.
A rather random ending, I know, but I feel this post has gone on long enough, and I need to get some stuff done today. Also, I need to hack up with gravel that is currently sitting in my lungs.
YES.
Monday, January 10, 2011
Snow day!!
Two posts in less than 24 hours? What is this nonsense?
Well, dear readers, this is me with extra time on my hands in the afternoon because of a snow day! And you know what? Today was actually a pretty fun day at school. I got to sleep in and go late. I got to start my day off with a pretty great [albeit cranky--at first] group of kids, and i only had to teach three hours before it was time to go home.
I've been thinking about what I'll do when my first batch of seniors graduates. Not going to lie, I think it'll be pretty hard. It's very natural that I would find them such a special class, for they're my first seniors. Unique circumstances [read: a terrible year and little love lost between them and their teacher last year] have also made them much more prone to create relationship with me. Granted, they can be sneaky, but I can also be demanding. Overall, however, I'm going to have trouble.
I had an excellent conversation with a friend over the weekend. He's dealt with those same feelings before and gave me some great warnings and encouragements. The most surprising warning?
Don't detach.
Apparently after Spring Break I'll find myself wanting to detach from my seniors. To spare myself the emotional pain that will come when they have to leave. I never thought I might do that, but now that I think about it, I could see it happening.
Why?
I'm well aware of the fact that some of my seniors would love to call me their friend. And, if I'm honest, I'd love to call myself their friend as well. But we don't do that. And when they graduate, and it's no longer against Miss M's rules [which some of them find dumb], I'm sure we'll call each other friends--might be weird at first, but it'll work.
And then they're going to leave me.
Oh my word, how pathetic does that sound? But it's totally true. We'll call each other friends, but how much would we really be friends? That's not to say that I'd keep myself above them or refuse to talk or hang out. And that's not to say that some of them won't want to hang out with me. It's just different when you go off to school. Friends at home are still friends, but friends made in college and very different from friends made in high school. Trust me, I would know. I'm sure many of you know exactly what I'm talking about as well.
Therefore, I can now see why I would be tempted to disengage. It's emotionally difficult when they graduate, yes, but it's ten times worse when these young people I have grown to love leave. I'm so excited for them. They will grow, and they will actually change into the men and women they've dreamed of being. Mostly. Hopefully. But my darn selfish heart wants to keep them, too.
I want to keep the laughter in class. I want to keep the discussions--both deep and stupid. I want to keep the arguments and shouting. I want to keep the feeling of a captive audience with their eyes widening when I tell them something particularly juicy. I want to keep the embarrassments and the discomforts.
I know next year will be great. I know the next class will be special to me, too. But I'm a first year. And to me, the only ones I know are the ones I have now. And I love them dearly.
Here's a little taste of why I love them so much:
We wrote epigrams in class today. Short, sweet musings on life. Some of them were funny, some of them were deep [and some both], and some were . . . special. Either way, here's just a tiny peek into why I love these young adults and love my job.
A's Epigram [I like this one because it's such a heart check for those of us who use our faith to judge others.]
To be judged is never pleasing,
It always ends in others teasing,
Yet we always find the faults of people,
Simply because they're not under the steeple.
C's Epigram [I enjoy the contrast between the lameness of Mankind and the spirit of Mankind.]
The body of man is often lame,
The lame man's walk is that of shame,
But Man's spirit, one can never take,
His soul, one cannot break.
K's Epigram [So much truth in this one. And the last line rocks. I want to steal it!]
Master of reason clothed in ignorance,
Climbing his way down by one's own preference.
Wishing for that which is painfully good,
Refusing the things he knows that he should.
He struggles to control, a useless hunt,
But God's got his back, his side, his front.
R's Epigram [This one is very true, and it's also very fun. I like that.]
People are like the wind, some like a breeze,
Some people are a hurricane, some a small sneeze,
Some are consistent, and strong they blow,
Others are fickle, they ebb and flow.
B's Epigram [This one is just cheeky, and I couldn't resist posting it.]
If you want to stay fit,
You cannot just sit.
So muster up some grit
And grab your balls and a mitt. [Yep]
-
That's pretty clear, right? Love them.
Well, dear readers, this is me with extra time on my hands in the afternoon because of a snow day! And you know what? Today was actually a pretty fun day at school. I got to sleep in and go late. I got to start my day off with a pretty great [albeit cranky--at first] group of kids, and i only had to teach three hours before it was time to go home.
I've been thinking about what I'll do when my first batch of seniors graduates. Not going to lie, I think it'll be pretty hard. It's very natural that I would find them such a special class, for they're my first seniors. Unique circumstances [read: a terrible year and little love lost between them and their teacher last year] have also made them much more prone to create relationship with me. Granted, they can be sneaky, but I can also be demanding. Overall, however, I'm going to have trouble.
I had an excellent conversation with a friend over the weekend. He's dealt with those same feelings before and gave me some great warnings and encouragements. The most surprising warning?
Don't detach.
Apparently after Spring Break I'll find myself wanting to detach from my seniors. To spare myself the emotional pain that will come when they have to leave. I never thought I might do that, but now that I think about it, I could see it happening.
Why?
I'm well aware of the fact that some of my seniors would love to call me their friend. And, if I'm honest, I'd love to call myself their friend as well. But we don't do that. And when they graduate, and it's no longer against Miss M's rules [which some of them find dumb], I'm sure we'll call each other friends--might be weird at first, but it'll work.
And then they're going to leave me.
Oh my word, how pathetic does that sound? But it's totally true. We'll call each other friends, but how much would we really be friends? That's not to say that I'd keep myself above them or refuse to talk or hang out. And that's not to say that some of them won't want to hang out with me. It's just different when you go off to school. Friends at home are still friends, but friends made in college and very different from friends made in high school. Trust me, I would know. I'm sure many of you know exactly what I'm talking about as well.
Therefore, I can now see why I would be tempted to disengage. It's emotionally difficult when they graduate, yes, but it's ten times worse when these young people I have grown to love leave. I'm so excited for them. They will grow, and they will actually change into the men and women they've dreamed of being. Mostly. Hopefully. But my darn selfish heart wants to keep them, too.
I want to keep the laughter in class. I want to keep the discussions--both deep and stupid. I want to keep the arguments and shouting. I want to keep the feeling of a captive audience with their eyes widening when I tell them something particularly juicy. I want to keep the embarrassments and the discomforts.
I know next year will be great. I know the next class will be special to me, too. But I'm a first year. And to me, the only ones I know are the ones I have now. And I love them dearly.
Here's a little taste of why I love them so much:
We wrote epigrams in class today. Short, sweet musings on life. Some of them were funny, some of them were deep [and some both], and some were . . . special. Either way, here's just a tiny peek into why I love these young adults and love my job.
A's Epigram [I like this one because it's such a heart check for those of us who use our faith to judge others.]
To be judged is never pleasing,
It always ends in others teasing,
Yet we always find the faults of people,
Simply because they're not under the steeple.
C's Epigram [I enjoy the contrast between the lameness of Mankind and the spirit of Mankind.]
The body of man is often lame,
The lame man's walk is that of shame,
But Man's spirit, one can never take,
His soul, one cannot break.
K's Epigram [So much truth in this one. And the last line rocks. I want to steal it!]
Master of reason clothed in ignorance,
Climbing his way down by one's own preference.
Wishing for that which is painfully good,
Refusing the things he knows that he should.
He struggles to control, a useless hunt,
But God's got his back, his side, his front.
R's Epigram [This one is very true, and it's also very fun. I like that.]
People are like the wind, some like a breeze,
Some people are a hurricane, some a small sneeze,
Some are consistent, and strong they blow,
Others are fickle, they ebb and flow.
B's Epigram [This one is just cheeky, and I couldn't resist posting it.]
If you want to stay fit,
You cannot just sit.
So muster up some grit
And grab your balls and a mitt. [Yep]
-
That's pretty clear, right? Love them.
My collage...
We made collages that show who we are in Creative Writing. This is mine.
Clockwise from the top:
Apples:
This, this is what I wait for.
Song of Solomon 2: 3-7
"3 Like an apple tree among the trees of the forest is my beloved among the young men. I delight to sit in his shade, and his fruit is sweet to my taste. 4 Let him lead me to the banquet hall, and let his banner over me be love. 5 Strengthen me with raisins, refresh me with apples, for I am faint with love. 6 His left arm is under my head, and his right arm embraces me. 7 Daughters of Jerusalem, I charge you by the gazelles and by the does of the field: Do not arouse or awaken love until it so desires."
Whew, I need to catch my breath a little after that!
Green Mountains:
I am still young and green, but I've been built into by now. I've been sculpted a bit, in ways both beautiful and scarring. I'm not sure how I feel about that, but I know it's part of who I am now.
A Clear "i":
I live my life transparently both here and with the people in my life. Remember that post that got people all up in arms? Yeah. No matter what, though, I'll always love and value blinding, painful, and absolute honesty. Coy is cute, vague is alluring, but honesty sticks. For reals.
Pomegranate:
An ancient Christian symbol of the fullness of Christ's suffering and resurrection. The transparency of the i comes from this, 'cause, uh, otherwise I wouldn't do it.
Blue Silk:
I am precious and intricately woven. A lot of things in my life [both people and situations] have done quite a number on my heart to make me constantly doubt that. From an offhanded comment made when I was 12 to years of prolonged appearance-anxiety fueled by a man [and that's not to say it was his fault. I really believe that the combination of my insecurities with his particular expectations were doomed from the outset] I felt uncomfortable in my skin for 25 years. It's still a work in progress, but now I always see more good than bad, and some days, if I'm really honest, there are times I look in the mirror and think Man, God. Good job. Is that vain? It probably is. Crap.
Slats and Lines:
Winter is my time. This was a painting I found in a magazine that represented the season of winter. Interestingly, I find fall to be my favorite season, but I was born in the winter. I grow the most in the winter. And I always emerge from the winter softer, newer, and ready for wiser. And I'm hoping that trend continues.
Blue Butterfly:
Not only do I emerge from the literal winter as a new woman, I've also emerged from a figurative winter recently. Now, this winter I've come from was not barren, dead, or cold--that's not the kind of winter I'm talking about. I'm talking about a time of challenge, of growth, of . . . oh my word, could I sound any more pretentious and metaphorical? You get the picture right, gentle reader? Of course you do! You're smart! You don't need to sit here and listen to me wax on poetic!
Paints:
The meaning of this is twofold:
1. I like color.
2. I like to put things in ROYGBIV order. Everywhere. All the time. If you look for it, you'll notice it.
Keri Strug:
What a moment of sacrifice and determination. I watched this live. It was amazing, and I've never forgotten it. She knew what needed to be done, and it wasn't about her. It wasn't for her own glory. It was for the glory of others. This is what I want my legacy to look like. And this is hard for me, the girl whose parents once bought her a T-shirt that said It's All About Me just for the heck of it. Yeah. I was that girl. I'm trying not to know her anymore.
Music:
Any moment a note a passing through my lips is a moment of incandescent joy. Anytime my fingers rest on the keys of a real piano [not a keyboard, mind you. Those aren't keys, psh] I feel a thrill of possibility, and my throat tingles in anticipation. I live to sing.
"Maturity is relative."
That pretty much explains itself, right?
Clockwise from the top:
Apples:
This, this is what I wait for.
Song of Solomon 2: 3-7
"3 Like an apple tree among the trees of the forest is my beloved among the young men. I delight to sit in his shade, and his fruit is sweet to my taste. 4 Let him lead me to the banquet hall, and let his banner over me be love. 5 Strengthen me with raisins, refresh me with apples, for I am faint with love. 6 His left arm is under my head, and his right arm embraces me. 7 Daughters of Jerusalem, I charge you by the gazelles and by the does of the field: Do not arouse or awaken love until it so desires."
Whew, I need to catch my breath a little after that!
Green Mountains:
I am still young and green, but I've been built into by now. I've been sculpted a bit, in ways both beautiful and scarring. I'm not sure how I feel about that, but I know it's part of who I am now.
A Clear "i":
I live my life transparently both here and with the people in my life. Remember that post that got people all up in arms? Yeah. No matter what, though, I'll always love and value blinding, painful, and absolute honesty. Coy is cute, vague is alluring, but honesty sticks. For reals.
Pomegranate:
An ancient Christian symbol of the fullness of Christ's suffering and resurrection. The transparency of the i comes from this, 'cause, uh, otherwise I wouldn't do it.
Blue Silk:
I am precious and intricately woven. A lot of things in my life [both people and situations] have done quite a number on my heart to make me constantly doubt that. From an offhanded comment made when I was 12 to years of prolonged appearance-anxiety fueled by a man [and that's not to say it was his fault. I really believe that the combination of my insecurities with his particular expectations were doomed from the outset] I felt uncomfortable in my skin for 25 years. It's still a work in progress, but now I always see more good than bad, and some days, if I'm really honest, there are times I look in the mirror and think Man, God. Good job. Is that vain? It probably is. Crap.
Slats and Lines:
Winter is my time. This was a painting I found in a magazine that represented the season of winter. Interestingly, I find fall to be my favorite season, but I was born in the winter. I grow the most in the winter. And I always emerge from the winter softer, newer, and ready for wiser. And I'm hoping that trend continues.
Blue Butterfly:
Not only do I emerge from the literal winter as a new woman, I've also emerged from a figurative winter recently. Now, this winter I've come from was not barren, dead, or cold--that's not the kind of winter I'm talking about. I'm talking about a time of challenge, of growth, of . . . oh my word, could I sound any more pretentious and metaphorical? You get the picture right, gentle reader? Of course you do! You're smart! You don't need to sit here and listen to me wax on poetic!
Paints:
The meaning of this is twofold:
1. I like color.
2. I like to put things in ROYGBIV order. Everywhere. All the time. If you look for it, you'll notice it.
Keri Strug:
What a moment of sacrifice and determination. I watched this live. It was amazing, and I've never forgotten it. She knew what needed to be done, and it wasn't about her. It wasn't for her own glory. It was for the glory of others. This is what I want my legacy to look like. And this is hard for me, the girl whose parents once bought her a T-shirt that said It's All About Me just for the heck of it. Yeah. I was that girl. I'm trying not to know her anymore.
Music:
Any moment a note a passing through my lips is a moment of incandescent joy. Anytime my fingers rest on the keys of a real piano [not a keyboard, mind you. Those aren't keys, psh] I feel a thrill of possibility, and my throat tingles in anticipation. I live to sing.
"Maturity is relative."
That pretty much explains itself, right?
Monday, December 20, 2010
A birthday and a lock-in
Ah, so much to catch up on. Sorry, my gentle readers! I have left you hanging without any tasty morsels for over a week now!
Bad blogger, bad blogger.
To be honest, I've been having such a fun week I didn't have time to sit down and write it all out! Let's start from the top:
1. My Birthday
What a day! My best friend, Kristy, comes in the night before and plans on being with me all day at school. I'll admit, I'm a little nervous about this, seeing as my kids can be unpredictable sometimes, but I'm looking forward to it anyway.
I arrive at school and discover myself staring at this when I come up to my door. What the . . .?
Then I open up the door and discover that my entire room is completely decked out for my birthday. Plastic cup streamers. Messages spelled out on paper plates on my walls. Messages on my board. Tumbleweeds for decoration. My bathroom pass wrapped in tin foil (awesome!).
And who did this for me? My new bestie here in town, AB. What a great friend! My days started off so well because of her and her thoughtfulness. Later I discovered that she enlisted the help of some of my students, which made me feel even more blessed and loved. And the day was just beginning!
My students in my core classes were well-behaved and we had a good time even though it wasn't the greatest day for Kristy to see just how much fun we normally have. Monday was the day when a lot of things got piled onto them and we happened to have some hiccups with technology, too. Joy! But it all got worked out.
I loved the fact that Kristy could finally put some faces with some names, especially for a few students. She even felt comfortable enough to trade jabs with one of my more, um, colorful students, a source of great entertainment for me. And at the end of the day, AB showed up with a homemade cake just for me! Incredible! I thought the day couldn't get any better.
Kristy took me out to the local restaurant, which is great. I had my first steak in, oh, I don't know how long. Sigh. I realized just how much I missed red meat--for some reason it's really hard to cook it just for myself. Either way, my rare/medium rare ribeye hit the spot--especially because I got to gross Kristy out with how red it was in the middle. Mmm. Doesn't she realize it's not steak unless it's practically still mooing? Silly girl.
When we got home we made some special hot chocolate (double yum) and popped in a movie. Very good. Very dramatic. Notes on a Scandal. You should check it out. After that Kristy and I were feeling a little sleepy, but I suddenly got a text from a friend telling me that there's a meteor shower going on.
!
I am instantly awake and desperate to get out there and see some stars! Kristy's getting even more tired, so she tells me to head out. I pulled on as many layers as possible, grabbed my hat and a blanket, and hopped in my car. Off I go to the far NW. It's more dark and clear than anything I could have ever found in Wichita. I parked in a field, wrapped the blanket around me and laid on my back window just staring up at the sky. It was freezing and amazing. I saw some beautiful stars, got to talk to Daddy for a bit, and ended my day perfectly.
2. Youth Lock-In
Have I told you all yet how much I love my students? Because, um, I really do. We started our lock-in with some caroling at the rest home, then drove around town spreading Christmas cheer. Then back to the church for hot chocolate (yum again!) and games. Then a Bible mystery game (fun). Then a white elephant gift exchange (where my colorful student--who shall from here on out be known as Tubby--decided it would be a good time to torture Miss Martin by putting a jock strap on over his shorts and walk up to her--no lie). Then to the high school for some strobe light volleyball. That lasts for about an hour, then two more hours of regular volleyball. Then back for a game of Angels and Demons (holy cow did the kids love that game). Then chilling out with students, talking and laughing (perhaps my favorite part of the night). Then a concert by yours truly (at the students' demand). Then breakfast. Then cleanup. Then home for a two hour nap before church.
Phew!
Let's see. I had so much fun, partly because I got to spend some time with new friends, partly because I got to interact with my students outside of school, and partly because I didn't have to act like a teacher at the lock-in.
I never mind acting like a teacher. I mean, I am one, and I love the job! But really, for youth group, this was the first time the kids have had a chance to just sort of chill with Miss Martin and have fun. Of course, I still make them call me Miss Martin (some might say it's a silly rule, but it's what I've chosen), but overall it was a sort of relief to just have fun with them.
.
Hmm, I was going to give you a little more here, but I suddenly decided to wait.
So, dear reader, you'll have to wait until tomorrow or so to get a little more from me. Hope you didn't get too disgusted with such an overwhelmingly happy post. Perhaps next time I can add a few anecdotes for you from my various students. There are enough rolling around in my head to keep you laughing for quite awhile.
Bad blogger, bad blogger.
To be honest, I've been having such a fun week I didn't have time to sit down and write it all out! Let's start from the top:
1. My Birthday
What a day! My best friend, Kristy, comes in the night before and plans on being with me all day at school. I'll admit, I'm a little nervous about this, seeing as my kids can be unpredictable sometimes, but I'm looking forward to it anyway.
Then I open up the door and discover that my entire room is completely decked out for my birthday. Plastic cup streamers. Messages spelled out on paper plates on my walls. Messages on my board. Tumbleweeds for decoration. My bathroom pass wrapped in tin foil (awesome!).
And who did this for me? My new bestie here in town, AB. What a great friend! My days started off so well because of her and her thoughtfulness. Later I discovered that she enlisted the help of some of my students, which made me feel even more blessed and loved. And the day was just beginning!
I loved the fact that Kristy could finally put some faces with some names, especially for a few students. She even felt comfortable enough to trade jabs with one of my more, um, colorful students, a source of great entertainment for me. And at the end of the day, AB showed up with a homemade cake just for me! Incredible! I thought the day couldn't get any better.
Kristy took me out to the local restaurant, which is great. I had my first steak in, oh, I don't know how long. Sigh. I realized just how much I missed red meat--for some reason it's really hard to cook it just for myself. Either way, my rare/medium rare ribeye hit the spot--especially because I got to gross Kristy out with how red it was in the middle. Mmm. Doesn't she realize it's not steak unless it's practically still mooing? Silly girl.
When we got home we made some special hot chocolate (double yum) and popped in a movie. Very good. Very dramatic. Notes on a Scandal. You should check it out. After that Kristy and I were feeling a little sleepy, but I suddenly got a text from a friend telling me that there's a meteor shower going on.
!
I am instantly awake and desperate to get out there and see some stars! Kristy's getting even more tired, so she tells me to head out. I pulled on as many layers as possible, grabbed my hat and a blanket, and hopped in my car. Off I go to the far NW. It's more dark and clear than anything I could have ever found in Wichita. I parked in a field, wrapped the blanket around me and laid on my back window just staring up at the sky. It was freezing and amazing. I saw some beautiful stars, got to talk to Daddy for a bit, and ended my day perfectly.
2. Youth Lock-In
Have I told you all yet how much I love my students? Because, um, I really do. We started our lock-in with some caroling at the rest home, then drove around town spreading Christmas cheer. Then back to the church for hot chocolate (yum again!) and games. Then a Bible mystery game (fun). Then a white elephant gift exchange (where my colorful student--who shall from here on out be known as Tubby--decided it would be a good time to torture Miss Martin by putting a jock strap on over his shorts and walk up to her--no lie). Then to the high school for some strobe light volleyball. That lasts for about an hour, then two more hours of regular volleyball. Then back for a game of Angels and Demons (holy cow did the kids love that game). Then chilling out with students, talking and laughing (perhaps my favorite part of the night). Then a concert by yours truly (at the students' demand). Then breakfast. Then cleanup. Then home for a two hour nap before church.
Phew!
Let's see. I had so much fun, partly because I got to spend some time with new friends, partly because I got to interact with my students outside of school, and partly because I didn't have to act like a teacher at the lock-in.
I never mind acting like a teacher. I mean, I am one, and I love the job! But really, for youth group, this was the first time the kids have had a chance to just sort of chill with Miss Martin and have fun. Of course, I still make them call me Miss Martin (some might say it's a silly rule, but it's what I've chosen), but overall it was a sort of relief to just have fun with them.
.
Hmm, I was going to give you a little more here, but I suddenly decided to wait.
So, dear reader, you'll have to wait until tomorrow or so to get a little more from me. Hope you didn't get too disgusted with such an overwhelmingly happy post. Perhaps next time I can add a few anecdotes for you from my various students. There are enough rolling around in my head to keep you laughing for quite awhile.
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
But then it snowed . . .
Today was a rather lackadaisical day. Oh, if my students could see this they'd be so proud!
I'm not sure what it was. Perhaps it's simply the nature of this week. My visits to Wichita have ceased which is saddening yet a relief at the same time. Naturally, I'm sad I can't see my friends every weekend now, but I'm so very relieved that I can finally stay at home for a day, sleep in, actually clean my house, and catch up on some reading/grading/planning, etc.
That will be this weekend, however. Now I'm in this frantic planning mode. Ah, the things that students never see, hear, or know.
I love to plan ahead. It makes me feel better about where I'm headed with the students if I know what's coming up. Now, I'm all about being spontaneous. I change things at the last minute all the time. I love to go with the flow and see what would work best for the kids (sometimes it's even a split second decision just before the words come out of my mouth!). Have plans made ahead of time, however, makes me feel better about changing them.
I'd rather spontaneously change pre-made plans than enact hurried plans, you know?
Well, because all my planning time (i.e. weekends) has been taken up lately with visits to the ICT, that's left me in a few weeks of rushed plans. And for me, rushed means coming up with it the night before.
This has slowly worn me down, and I think today was the first time it's actually affected my attitude and demeanor with my kids. I was easily annoyed and aggravated by many things that would normally slide right off my shoulders. I told two of my classes today how disappointed in them I was. That's not normal.
Even my hour that normally relaxes me and lifts my heart couldn't do it for me today.
But then it snowed.
Big, fat snowflakes that instantly turned into puddles on the ground, but I'm still counting it as snow.
And I was happy again.
I'm not sure what it was. Perhaps it's simply the nature of this week. My visits to Wichita have ceased which is saddening yet a relief at the same time. Naturally, I'm sad I can't see my friends every weekend now, but I'm so very relieved that I can finally stay at home for a day, sleep in, actually clean my house, and catch up on some reading/grading/planning, etc.
That will be this weekend, however. Now I'm in this frantic planning mode. Ah, the things that students never see, hear, or know.
I love to plan ahead. It makes me feel better about where I'm headed with the students if I know what's coming up. Now, I'm all about being spontaneous. I change things at the last minute all the time. I love to go with the flow and see what would work best for the kids (sometimes it's even a split second decision just before the words come out of my mouth!). Have plans made ahead of time, however, makes me feel better about changing them.
I'd rather spontaneously change pre-made plans than enact hurried plans, you know?
Well, because all my planning time (i.e. weekends) has been taken up lately with visits to the ICT, that's left me in a few weeks of rushed plans. And for me, rushed means coming up with it the night before.
This has slowly worn me down, and I think today was the first time it's actually affected my attitude and demeanor with my kids. I was easily annoyed and aggravated by many things that would normally slide right off my shoulders. I told two of my classes today how disappointed in them I was. That's not normal.
Even my hour that normally relaxes me and lifts my heart couldn't do it for me today.
But then it snowed.
Big, fat snowflakes that instantly turned into puddles on the ground, but I'm still counting it as snow.
And I was happy again.
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
Short and . . . wait . . .
A quick conversation from one of my classes today:
Me: C, you need to put your hood down.
C: But, Miss Martin, it's cold!
Me: I know.
C: Will you warm me up?
Clearly it did not make it through his head that Miss Martin does not need his comments.
Me: C, you need to put your hood down.
C: But, Miss Martin, it's cold!
Me: I know.
C: Will you warm me up?
Clearly it did not make it through his head that Miss Martin does not need his comments.
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Sir, Amen!
Today was excellent. Allow me to recount my day for you:
1. I sleep in (by choice) and subsequently got to school around seven this morning. That's crazy late for me! But I am so grateful for the extra sleep that I feel great for the day.
2. My first two hours fly by rather well. Then it's third hour.
3. Oh third hour. Not sure what was in the air today, but by far one of the funniest hours we've had all year. My face felt like it was about to break from all the smiling I was doing. I'm hopeful that we actually learned something during the hour, but, if not, at least we had a fun time. And if we did? Then holy cow! I need to figure out to have class like that every day.
4. Actually got a few things done during 4th hour today, and finally got it through a student's head that he really shouldn't pay me such excessive compliments. At least, I think I got it through his head. We'll see if he says his normal "Miss Martin, you're lookin' good today. That's really working for you."
You think it'd be rude to pretend to throw up when he says that? Just a thought.
5. Share my high school journal with my little Creeper and I have a great conversation with her. We chat about high school and high school relationships, learning from heartbreak, and the reality of love. I felt great about the conversation . . .
6. . . . that is, until I discovered that a student had eavesdropped on our conversation! Then that student got another student to ask me about a conversation I thought had been private! And of course that student had to ask about the specific phrase that would probably throw me off the most.
Ridiculous. I shall now have to watch everything I say in school because apparently little ears are always around the corner to catch anything that will fall in.
So besides that little annoyance, school was great today. I've been having a lot of fun lately. Seriously.
7. I got another note from a student! So happy! This note was more of a series of little notes (cute!) and they're definitely going to go with the other one. I'm starting a little file where I can keep meaningful notes from students and pull them out on a bad day.
And now, here's a present for my Little Creeper. She knows who she is.
30 Facts About MB
1. I sleep in (by choice) and subsequently got to school around seven this morning. That's crazy late for me! But I am so grateful for the extra sleep that I feel great for the day.
2. My first two hours fly by rather well. Then it's third hour.
3. Oh third hour. Not sure what was in the air today, but by far one of the funniest hours we've had all year. My face felt like it was about to break from all the smiling I was doing. I'm hopeful that we actually learned something during the hour, but, if not, at least we had a fun time. And if we did? Then holy cow! I need to figure out to have class like that every day.
4. Actually got a few things done during 4th hour today, and finally got it through a student's head that he really shouldn't pay me such excessive compliments. At least, I think I got it through his head. We'll see if he says his normal "Miss Martin, you're lookin' good today. That's really working for you."
You think it'd be rude to pretend to throw up when he says that? Just a thought.
5. Share my high school journal with my little Creeper and I have a great conversation with her. We chat about high school and high school relationships, learning from heartbreak, and the reality of love. I felt great about the conversation . . .
6. . . . that is, until I discovered that a student had eavesdropped on our conversation! Then that student got another student to ask me about a conversation I thought had been private! And of course that student had to ask about the specific phrase that would probably throw me off the most.
Ridiculous. I shall now have to watch everything I say in school because apparently little ears are always around the corner to catch anything that will fall in.
So besides that little annoyance, school was great today. I've been having a lot of fun lately. Seriously.
7. I got another note from a student! So happy! This note was more of a series of little notes (cute!) and they're definitely going to go with the other one. I'm starting a little file where I can keep meaningful notes from students and pull them out on a bad day.
And now, here's a present for my Little Creeper. She knows who she is.
30 Facts About MB
1. Even though it hurts, I love it when my cheeks are red and freezing because it makes me feel alive.
2. I do not like to be touched in any way (no hugs, or even a hand on the arm) by ANYONE unless it's someone I'm interested in/involved with romantically. This puzzles many people.
3. After being in theatre for most of my life, I no longer have any modesty. This makes some of my friends uncomfortable. Who needs closed doors or turned backs?
4. Very rarely does something I "love" stick around for good, for I'm always finding new things to enjoy and new interests; however, I've stuck with a very specific favorite salad dressing for five years now with no signs of getting bored. This = progress!
5. I finally became someone with internet on her phone who texts a lot. I'm my own worst nightmare.
6. Every now and then I contemplate running away and starting from scratch.
7. The fastest way to my heart is to write me a long and honest letter.
8. These are the physical traits I am most attracted to in a man, in order: defined forearms, a broad and strong back, thick eyebrows, dark hair, a strong nose, rugged hands, a full beard, and a thick neck.
9. My body craves about 9 hours of sleep a night. I've been living consistently on 5. I can feel the years falling off the end of my life . . .
10. I believe in fate, love-at-first-sight, and soul mates mostly because my parents' love story proves that all those things are true.
11. I sing along to most songs whether I like them or not. I can't stop.
12. I only listen to country music once a year: at the yearly barn dance. At that time I forget my disdain for country music and just enjoy country swing, line dancing, and two-stepping. Then it's back to sanity.
13. I make every visitor to my house lay on my bed. It's seriously the best thing you've ever felt.
14. Sometimes I have to pinch myself to remind me that this is my life now and it's not just some fabulous dream.
15. I feel attractive and comfortable in my skin for the first time in seven years, and it shows.
16. Sometimes I can be overly confessional. I like my life to be an open book for people.
17. I'm seriously considering letting people fix me up with someone for the first time in my life. This makes me somewhat nervous.
18. When I'm awake, I'm awake. I don't drink caffeine in any form.
19. If my hot water would last for an hour I'm sure I could take an hour long shower.
20. I am a night person for sure. I become really productive and really energetic. My house gets really clean and organized after 8 every night!
21. I love the stars so much. I want to lay on someone's roof and watch the stars all night. Can someone make that happen?
22. Living alone is amazing. I don't have to worry about surprising roommates, I can stay up until 3 a.m. and be loud, and I can wear (or not wear) whatever I want.
23. When I get married, my husband better not be a cuddler. I hate sharing a bed (as Kristy knows)!
24. I love it when people call me by a nickname. The most common is MB. The people I love most call me MB. You should call me MB.
25. I love, love, love to dance. Waltz, swing, line dance, two-step, rave, hip-hop, you name it and I'll do it. A man who will swing me around is an instant source of pure joy.
26. I really like being short. I love being able to fit right under someone's arm.
27. I do not stay angry. Ever. It's too stressful to hold on to anger.
28. I haven't felt exhilaration like this in a long time. Life is so fun right now.
29. I love humor about bodily functions, and I'm not afraid to talk about the real thing, too. Deal with it.
30. I'm so glad that I'm teaching high school. These kids will keep me young for life.
Thursday, November 25, 2010
A Thanksgiving post, obviously.
Ah, the obligatory Thanksgiving post.
Sometimes listing off all the things I'm thankful for can feel so trite, if I'm really honest, but this year I have so much to be thankful for. Some are small. Some are big. Some are familiar and constant, and some are new and exciting.
Now that my hands are clean after giving the turkey an olive oil rubdown (yes, you heard me), let's get on to the list!
1. Ready for the Superchurch answer? . . . Jesus!
I could say so much here, and it would never be enough. He has dictated every part of my life and He has never failed me. He is my bridegroom and my home, and He will never leave me.
2. My new home.
You've seen the house in posts before, so you know that it's pretty adorable. With limited options, I ended up getting a house better than I imagined. Not too big, pretty cute, and with enough projects to keep me busy, I couldn't have asked for more.
3. My new job.
I became a teacher because I knew I'd do well. I discovered that I love teaching. I get to go to school every day, talk about literature, keep things organized (and those of you who know me understand!), and hang out with kids all day. And make fun of them. And laugh at them. And seriously, I laugh and smile all day long. You've read some stories already, like this one and this one, and I'll always have more for you. I wake up each day excited for work, and I don't know many people who can say that.
4. My new town.
If I'm brutally honest (and let's face it, I usually am), I did not want to come here. I wanted to stay where things were familiar. Who wouldn't? But God said no and sent me here. And you know what? He totally knew what he was doing. I adore this place. The school. The feeling of community. New friends. My church. Knowing people and being known.
5. My new life.
God shut a lot of things down for me last spring. It was hard, to put it lightly. I thought my new life would be getting out into the world and moving to a big city. I thought teaching would simply be a short pit stop before my real life began. And I think that's changed. Crazy, right? I feel like I could stay here forever. Teach here forever. A man might steal me away someday, but until then, I think I'll be here indefinitely. And that's exciting!
6. Friends and family.
Not too much to say. Just that I love them so much and would not be the woman I am today without them. I have been so blessed, and I hope these pictures will show you why.
Sometimes listing off all the things I'm thankful for can feel so trite, if I'm really honest, but this year I have so much to be thankful for. Some are small. Some are big. Some are familiar and constant, and some are new and exciting.
Now that my hands are clean after giving the turkey an olive oil rubdown (yes, you heard me), let's get on to the list!
1. Ready for the Superchurch answer? . . . Jesus!
I could say so much here, and it would never be enough. He has dictated every part of my life and He has never failed me. He is my bridegroom and my home, and He will never leave me.
2. My new home.
You've seen the house in posts before, so you know that it's pretty adorable. With limited options, I ended up getting a house better than I imagined. Not too big, pretty cute, and with enough projects to keep me busy, I couldn't have asked for more.
3. My new job.
I became a teacher because I knew I'd do well. I discovered that I love teaching. I get to go to school every day, talk about literature, keep things organized (and those of you who know me understand!), and hang out with kids all day. And make fun of them. And laugh at them. And seriously, I laugh and smile all day long. You've read some stories already, like this one and this one, and I'll always have more for you. I wake up each day excited for work, and I don't know many people who can say that.
4. My new town.
If I'm brutally honest (and let's face it, I usually am), I did not want to come here. I wanted to stay where things were familiar. Who wouldn't? But God said no and sent me here. And you know what? He totally knew what he was doing. I adore this place. The school. The feeling of community. New friends. My church. Knowing people and being known.
5. My new life.
God shut a lot of things down for me last spring. It was hard, to put it lightly. I thought my new life would be getting out into the world and moving to a big city. I thought teaching would simply be a short pit stop before my real life began. And I think that's changed. Crazy, right? I feel like I could stay here forever. Teach here forever. A man might steal me away someday, but until then, I think I'll be here indefinitely. And that's exciting!
6. Friends and family.
Not too much to say. Just that I love them so much and would not be the woman I am today without them. I have been so blessed, and I hope these pictures will show you why.
I love my dad. He taught me as a father and as a teacher. I learned most of my good teaching skills from him.
And by him constantly berating me and putting me down, I learned how to hold my own. Love you, Dad!
My mother is one of my best friends which I never would have imagined in high school.
She taught me to love music, love people, and love decorating. And I love her.
Ah, Seeeester. We've hated each other enough for two lifetimes. Now we love each other. Always and forever. And look how pretty she is!
Oh my brothers in Christ. There are more of you, and I appreciate all of you. Your concern for my safety, my heart, and my life has blessed me.
You show me such a picture of Christ's love, and reassure me that there are amazing and incredible godly men out there.
The last generation of the Bluff house. Some of the best years of my life with some of the best girls.
Oh, my dear Meghan. Your sweet and gentle heart inspires me. Your passion for your causes motivates me in mine (even if we're different).
You cut some mean hair and have fabulous taste.
My little Sarah. You're like a surrogate little sister to me. And a friend. All rolled in one. Your obsessions make me giggle and my weirdness makes
you shake your head. We're a good pair, and I miss you.
Amy. Amy, Amy, Amy. You know my heart, and I know yours. Honestly, we get each other. And this picture
illustrates visually that we are twins mentally.
Ah Joyce, our tears and laughter have filled many precious hours of my life. I love you so much, my sister.
Saras, you are so fetch. And sweet. And I love that we became fast friends, and I'm sad that I'm no longer there with you.
Kristy, you know my deepest heart, and I am honored to know yours. Thank you for all your words and encouragement.
I am, and will always be, grateful for your hand in my life during this year.
Anna MinneMAN! I love you so much my darling. You are sweet and precious, and I am mean to you. It's the way it is.
You're one of my oldest friends, and I love that we've seen each other grow over the years. No one's singing will ever more to me than yours.
Trust me, I could go on and on about people. You might even find some surprising. But I have to stop at some point! Suffice to say, the people in my life are incredible blessings every day. They energize me, encourage me, comfort me, challenge me, and love me. And I love them.
Happy Thanksgiving, friends!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)