Wednesday, March 31, 2004
PRINCE AND PURPLE RAIN
Well, tonight is the Prince concert and I can't wait. I have finally decided what to wear. I went to Express a few days ago and purchased a pair of white capris. They have ribbons that tie on the bottom hem of each pant leg, and pockets every which way. Kind of like a retro parachute pants thing but not quite as out of date. I will wear a black tank top-like blouse and a headband that has that trendy (my students tell me) Burberry print to it. Hoop earrings. Black heels. Sexy Casual, I think.
Of course, in between rushing to get home from work and getting dressed, I must do a few loads of laundry, curl my hair, take a power nap, start writing a grammar test that I promised the kids on Friday ( I love how I assign it before I have even written it. That's gutsy!), and clean up the house a little. I can tell you right now the only thing I will probably accomplish is curling my hair. Wishful thinking is so satisfying.
It's now lunch time and I"m waiting for a little 9th grade girl to come in for "help." We have a grammar test coming up, and her idea of getting "help" from the teacher translates as: (read in a whiny voice for full effect)
"I don't get verbs, and opening the grammar book to study them for myself seems far beyond my comprehension and abilities. I much prefer you reteach the entire chapter to me personally even though we have spent the entire month studyng them. If you do this, I will not only come to your help session late (so that you miss every second of your lunch period waiting for me) but I will also completely zone you out so that I can sit in the cool shade of your classroom (not in the ramada with other students), and save my energy thinking about that gorgeous piece of man-candy-on-a-stick in the 10th grade who absolutely adores me."
Teaching is so satisfying.
Well, tonight is the Prince concert and I can't wait. I have finally decided what to wear. I went to Express a few days ago and purchased a pair of white capris. They have ribbons that tie on the bottom hem of each pant leg, and pockets every which way. Kind of like a retro parachute pants thing but not quite as out of date. I will wear a black tank top-like blouse and a headband that has that trendy (my students tell me) Burberry print to it. Hoop earrings. Black heels. Sexy Casual, I think.
Of course, in between rushing to get home from work and getting dressed, I must do a few loads of laundry, curl my hair, take a power nap, start writing a grammar test that I promised the kids on Friday ( I love how I assign it before I have even written it. That's gutsy!), and clean up the house a little. I can tell you right now the only thing I will probably accomplish is curling my hair. Wishful thinking is so satisfying.
It's now lunch time and I"m waiting for a little 9th grade girl to come in for "help." We have a grammar test coming up, and her idea of getting "help" from the teacher translates as: (read in a whiny voice for full effect)
"I don't get verbs, and opening the grammar book to study them for myself seems far beyond my comprehension and abilities. I much prefer you reteach the entire chapter to me personally even though we have spent the entire month studyng them. If you do this, I will not only come to your help session late (so that you miss every second of your lunch period waiting for me) but I will also completely zone you out so that I can sit in the cool shade of your classroom (not in the ramada with other students), and save my energy thinking about that gorgeous piece of man-candy-on-a-stick in the 10th grade who absolutely adores me."
Teaching is so satisfying.
Sunday, March 28, 2004
MY SOCIAL LIFE
So Mr. S (my man) got us tickets to see both Prince and Kid Rock. We also have a jazz concert coming up and in April, I will see the musical "Hairspray" with my friend Shannon. I will be sure to blog all about it as the events happen.
Currently, my biggest dilemma is- what does one wear to a Prince concert? Lately, the entire city has been going crazy with miniskirt mania, and that has made me wonder if I should go shopping for one. I hate the fact that every girl who thinks she's trendy has to wear a trendy mini. Everyone wants to be so different but we're just all the same- wearing the same clothes, same hair styles, same shoes, same jewelry. It gets old sometimes. Could I even pull off a miniskirt? They are sooo short!! I don't remember them ever being that short before. And when did I become so worried about wearing short skirts? Am I getting old? or am I getting more practical??
I want to look sexy for this Prince concert, but I want to look sophisticated sexy. Everyone usually says I'm a very good dresser- the consensus is that I dress casual chic/ sleek- something like that. Think "Express" or "Lerners", I guess. But all the clothes I own are really for work. I don't want to wear chic work clothes to a Prince concert. I have to wear something that will "wow" Mr. S. Why do I feel the pressure to look sexy for him when I already know he likes the way I currently dress and look?
I think I just want him to be proud of me. I think I would like him to walk beside me and feel like he picked a pretty/sexy/fashionable girl.
So if I find a sexy outfit to wear to the Prince concert, should I wear the same to the Kid Rock concert or find another outfit?
My problems today seem so insignificant when I see them through the reader's eyes. But through mine, they are of the utmost importance. Sigh. Guess I'm going shopping tomorrow.
So Mr. S (my man) got us tickets to see both Prince and Kid Rock. We also have a jazz concert coming up and in April, I will see the musical "Hairspray" with my friend Shannon. I will be sure to blog all about it as the events happen.
Currently, my biggest dilemma is- what does one wear to a Prince concert? Lately, the entire city has been going crazy with miniskirt mania, and that has made me wonder if I should go shopping for one. I hate the fact that every girl who thinks she's trendy has to wear a trendy mini. Everyone wants to be so different but we're just all the same- wearing the same clothes, same hair styles, same shoes, same jewelry. It gets old sometimes. Could I even pull off a miniskirt? They are sooo short!! I don't remember them ever being that short before. And when did I become so worried about wearing short skirts? Am I getting old? or am I getting more practical??
I want to look sexy for this Prince concert, but I want to look sophisticated sexy. Everyone usually says I'm a very good dresser- the consensus is that I dress casual chic/ sleek- something like that. Think "Express" or "Lerners", I guess. But all the clothes I own are really for work. I don't want to wear chic work clothes to a Prince concert. I have to wear something that will "wow" Mr. S. Why do I feel the pressure to look sexy for him when I already know he likes the way I currently dress and look?
I think I just want him to be proud of me. I think I would like him to walk beside me and feel like he picked a pretty/sexy/fashionable girl.
So if I find a sexy outfit to wear to the Prince concert, should I wear the same to the Kid Rock concert or find another outfit?
My problems today seem so insignificant when I see them through the reader's eyes. But through mine, they are of the utmost importance. Sigh. Guess I'm going shopping tomorrow.
Tuesday, March 23, 2004
SOFTLY, SUMMER APPROACHES
I have begun to feel the need to return to blogging lately. I don't know...maybe to clear my head. 8 more mondays until the last day of school. I can do it. I can do it. Just breathe in and out...one day at a time. Soon, I will be free.
I started to blog about work, but I just can't do it anymore. I'm sick of talking about it, so I'll move on to something else.
Let's see....
Well, my 10 year high school reunion is coming up (this summer- July). I have been to the 5 year one, and it was so-so. I suspect this one is going to be super duper. The only problem is that it's going to be in Pennsylvania. ?? of all places! I would consider going, buy the guy I am seeing- let us call him Mr. S for now- wants to go to New York during that weekend. Before I met him, I had already planned to go to New York for the summer (see my earlier blogs) but it just so happens that he has a family reunion coming up, and it would work out for us to go to New York together.
I don't care where I go this summer. I just want to go somewhere. I plan to make a shitload of money teaching summer school (I'm a glutton for punishment), so that I can take a nice little vacation. I wouldn't mind going alone, but Mr. S and did have a good time together in Disneyland, that I wouldn't mind taking another road trip with him.
Last summer was my very first time to understand what it means to have the summer "off" as a teacher. Everyone thinks that teachers have it so easy- we get national holidays, Christmas, and summers off (don't forget Spring Break). When people make such comments I want to sucker punch them. They clearly don't get it. Teachers bust their asses for 180+ days a year, work almost every weekend, work late almost every night, take home work in the evenings, work/supervise/ chaperone all sorts of extra curricular things, and we DO WORK DURING THE SUMMER. I, for one, do my llong term esson planning during this time. I clean my classroom, I photocopy all kinds of handouts for the first few weeks of school, and I research new things to use in my classroom.
But don't get me wrong...it is nice to know that on any given day of summer I can wake up late if I would like to. That makes up for all the days I had to wake up at 5:00 am and stay up until 11:00pm with nothing but work in between.
It feels good to sit at home on a warm summer day, munching on a popsicle watching Jerry Springer if I wish. That makes up for all the days I have wanted to watch something interesting on TV but couldn't because I had a meeting or Parent Teacher Conferences.
It feels good to eat my lunch/dinner at a slow, even pace- without having to supervise 100s of kids eating, shoving, and cutting in the lunch line; without having to run to the photocopy room to photocopy that assignment for speech class before the bell rings; without having to hear other teachers bitch about this or that in the faculty lounge. I can eat at home- with my feet on the couch, or above my head if I wanted to.
The part I love most about summer is the warm evenings. I can go anywhere! I'm free. I can go out for drinks at 9 pm on a Tuesday. No work the next day! I can take a road trip at the drop of a hat. I can play my guitar until 3 am if I wish. I love renting 4 or 5 foreign/indy movies from Blockbuster at a time and just selfishly indulging myself.
I can go as long as I want without brushing my teeth.
I can sit around in my pyjamas.
I can take a nap several times a day.
I can workout!
40 days left....40 days left....40....40....40....
I have begun to feel the need to return to blogging lately. I don't know...maybe to clear my head. 8 more mondays until the last day of school. I can do it. I can do it. Just breathe in and out...one day at a time. Soon, I will be free.
I started to blog about work, but I just can't do it anymore. I'm sick of talking about it, so I'll move on to something else.
Let's see....
Well, my 10 year high school reunion is coming up (this summer- July). I have been to the 5 year one, and it was so-so. I suspect this one is going to be super duper. The only problem is that it's going to be in Pennsylvania. ?? of all places! I would consider going, buy the guy I am seeing- let us call him Mr. S for now- wants to go to New York during that weekend. Before I met him, I had already planned to go to New York for the summer (see my earlier blogs) but it just so happens that he has a family reunion coming up, and it would work out for us to go to New York together.
I don't care where I go this summer. I just want to go somewhere. I plan to make a shitload of money teaching summer school (I'm a glutton for punishment), so that I can take a nice little vacation. I wouldn't mind going alone, but Mr. S and did have a good time together in Disneyland, that I wouldn't mind taking another road trip with him.
Last summer was my very first time to understand what it means to have the summer "off" as a teacher. Everyone thinks that teachers have it so easy- we get national holidays, Christmas, and summers off (don't forget Spring Break). When people make such comments I want to sucker punch them. They clearly don't get it. Teachers bust their asses for 180+ days a year, work almost every weekend, work late almost every night, take home work in the evenings, work/supervise/ chaperone all sorts of extra curricular things, and we DO WORK DURING THE SUMMER. I, for one, do my llong term esson planning during this time. I clean my classroom, I photocopy all kinds of handouts for the first few weeks of school, and I research new things to use in my classroom.
But don't get me wrong...it is nice to know that on any given day of summer I can wake up late if I would like to. That makes up for all the days I had to wake up at 5:00 am and stay up until 11:00pm with nothing but work in between.
It feels good to sit at home on a warm summer day, munching on a popsicle watching Jerry Springer if I wish. That makes up for all the days I have wanted to watch something interesting on TV but couldn't because I had a meeting or Parent Teacher Conferences.
It feels good to eat my lunch/dinner at a slow, even pace- without having to supervise 100s of kids eating, shoving, and cutting in the lunch line; without having to run to the photocopy room to photocopy that assignment for speech class before the bell rings; without having to hear other teachers bitch about this or that in the faculty lounge. I can eat at home- with my feet on the couch, or above my head if I wanted to.
The part I love most about summer is the warm evenings. I can go anywhere! I'm free. I can go out for drinks at 9 pm on a Tuesday. No work the next day! I can take a road trip at the drop of a hat. I can play my guitar until 3 am if I wish. I love renting 4 or 5 foreign/indy movies from Blockbuster at a time and just selfishly indulging myself.
I can go as long as I want without brushing my teeth.
I can sit around in my pyjamas.
I can take a nap several times a day.
I can workout!
40 days left....40 days left....40....40....40....
Sunday, March 21, 2004
UPDATES
The month of March has gone by quickly- and I couldn't be more grateful. The other day a colleague mentioned that there are less than 40 days left in the school year - for the seniors, anyway. The rest of the high schoolers will have three weeks after that so the end of this long road of teaching isn't too far from the end. Of course, I am going to teach summer school (the money is too good to pass up, and I plan to go to New York this summer), but at least the hectic daily schedule of educating 95+ minds will be gone for two months.
At this point, I am doing what I can to coast. I made the decision to make the last quarter of the school year easy: we are only going to do the research paper (yawn!) and read Great Expectations (Charles Dickens). I expect that most kids will want to do neither of these two things, but since we will only be concentrating on that, I should say that they should be quite grateful!
*Is grateful spelled "grateful" or "greatful"? I must look that up soon.
In other news, the new man and I are doing very well. He is ...well, there are just no words. The best part of it all is that there are no expectations- we just kick back and take it easy, enjoying each other's company and the company of our now mutual friends. This is honestly the first time I have dated someone who actually has a decent number of friends to share and do things with. This is good in two ways: he will not feel the need to spend every waking moment with me and only me (familiarity can sometimes breeds contempt), and two- he can add to my pool of friends/acquaintances, and vice versa. I enjoy watching him interact with my friends. In many ways I feel like I am showing him off without having to use words. He glides in and out of conversations with my friends effortlessly and knows just what to say to make everyone feel at ease. I have sat back and just watched him "work" and it's truly awesome. Why does this mean so much to me, I wonder?
My last boyfriend- I met not one of his friends. I only met his cats, really. He had two- no, three- and they were nothing but terrors. He loved them like family members, lovers, best friends. He always promised that I would meet his mysterious friends, and that we would have such fun. In the eight months we dated, he had still failed to introduce me to anyone he could really call "friend." I am not sure what is more sad- the fact that he had no friends, or that I didn't see this as a serious red flag. In defense of my ignorance I must say that the times that we got to see each other were far and few between due to my work and the fact that we lived over 45 minutes away from each other. So when we saw each other we wanted to be alone- away from people and simply in each other's company. Agh. Enough about him. Clearly, nothing panned out and I am not sore or bitter about it anymore.
My man and I have many things in common. The largest one of course, is music. He plays drums in a band and he is damn good at it. As I type this, he sits a few feet away from me, practicing. It's loud, but it sounds good- especially since he is playing to some of his favorite musicians on CD. You go, baby. Most recently, we have been checking out local music scenes, practicing guitar together, and coming up with ideas for me to play "out" somewhere. We have our eyes on a local coffee shop that I wrote about some months earlier. My largest problem has been compiling original music that I am happy with. So far I have a few original numbers, (we have recorded two of them), but they need much work and I just don't have the time right now (could summer get here a littler faster, please?) Of late, I have been turning to Joni Mitchell's CD "Court and Spark" for sources of lyrical inspiration. She is truly a lyrical and musical genius. If I could only have 10 minutes with her - the questions I would ask! Joni, if you read my blog...talk to me! LOL.
The other thing we have in common is our past. My man and I have had similar childhoods in that our parents were not the best at parenting, and we have both suffered somewhat because of it. Many times we have had discussions late into the night discussing the things that went wrong, how we have recovered, and how we would do things differently were we to have kids. These conversations only add to my desire to really know him. I could go on about that, but I don't want to make this blog ultra-mushy. Interestingly enough, however, I have finally met someone who feels undecided about having children as I do. We share the same fears about bringing human beings of our own flesh and blood into the world: it helps to discuss these things that I have been mulling over for such a long time.
The other day someone asked me if I was "in love." Scratch that. She asked if I thought he was "the one." I told her I couldn't say that I knew that. I most certainly feel that I would like this to be something long term- definitely. But love? What is love? Do I feel it? There are moments when we have conversations that seem to last for hours that I think I feel it, know it, experience it, give it. There are moments, like now, when I look over at him (he doesn't know what I'm working on ) and I feel like I am in love- look at what he can do with his body, playing the drums like that. He plays the drums the way he lives his life: soulfully, with conviction, determination, sweat and effort. How can I not love that? I don't know...
Last month, while in Disneyland for Valentine's Day he told me he was falling in love with me. This excited me: it was certainly unexpected, but I was elated. We have not spoken of that day since. But we know it happened, and the memory still lingers in the air, pleasantly nostalgic. I don't think we need to speak about it... which brings me full circle to my first point. Here, there are no expectations. No mind games. Just contentment and growth (personal and as a couple). And that, for now, is all that I need.
The month of March has gone by quickly- and I couldn't be more grateful. The other day a colleague mentioned that there are less than 40 days left in the school year - for the seniors, anyway. The rest of the high schoolers will have three weeks after that so the end of this long road of teaching isn't too far from the end. Of course, I am going to teach summer school (the money is too good to pass up, and I plan to go to New York this summer), but at least the hectic daily schedule of educating 95+ minds will be gone for two months.
At this point, I am doing what I can to coast. I made the decision to make the last quarter of the school year easy: we are only going to do the research paper (yawn!) and read Great Expectations (Charles Dickens). I expect that most kids will want to do neither of these two things, but since we will only be concentrating on that, I should say that they should be quite grateful!
*Is grateful spelled "grateful" or "greatful"? I must look that up soon.
In other news, the new man and I are doing very well. He is ...well, there are just no words. The best part of it all is that there are no expectations- we just kick back and take it easy, enjoying each other's company and the company of our now mutual friends. This is honestly the first time I have dated someone who actually has a decent number of friends to share and do things with. This is good in two ways: he will not feel the need to spend every waking moment with me and only me (familiarity can sometimes breeds contempt), and two- he can add to my pool of friends/acquaintances, and vice versa. I enjoy watching him interact with my friends. In many ways I feel like I am showing him off without having to use words. He glides in and out of conversations with my friends effortlessly and knows just what to say to make everyone feel at ease. I have sat back and just watched him "work" and it's truly awesome. Why does this mean so much to me, I wonder?
My last boyfriend- I met not one of his friends. I only met his cats, really. He had two- no, three- and they were nothing but terrors. He loved them like family members, lovers, best friends. He always promised that I would meet his mysterious friends, and that we would have such fun. In the eight months we dated, he had still failed to introduce me to anyone he could really call "friend." I am not sure what is more sad- the fact that he had no friends, or that I didn't see this as a serious red flag. In defense of my ignorance I must say that the times that we got to see each other were far and few between due to my work and the fact that we lived over 45 minutes away from each other. So when we saw each other we wanted to be alone- away from people and simply in each other's company. Agh. Enough about him. Clearly, nothing panned out and I am not sore or bitter about it anymore.
My man and I have many things in common. The largest one of course, is music. He plays drums in a band and he is damn good at it. As I type this, he sits a few feet away from me, practicing. It's loud, but it sounds good- especially since he is playing to some of his favorite musicians on CD. You go, baby. Most recently, we have been checking out local music scenes, practicing guitar together, and coming up with ideas for me to play "out" somewhere. We have our eyes on a local coffee shop that I wrote about some months earlier. My largest problem has been compiling original music that I am happy with. So far I have a few original numbers, (we have recorded two of them), but they need much work and I just don't have the time right now (could summer get here a littler faster, please?) Of late, I have been turning to Joni Mitchell's CD "Court and Spark" for sources of lyrical inspiration. She is truly a lyrical and musical genius. If I could only have 10 minutes with her - the questions I would ask! Joni, if you read my blog...talk to me! LOL.
The other thing we have in common is our past. My man and I have had similar childhoods in that our parents were not the best at parenting, and we have both suffered somewhat because of it. Many times we have had discussions late into the night discussing the things that went wrong, how we have recovered, and how we would do things differently were we to have kids. These conversations only add to my desire to really know him. I could go on about that, but I don't want to make this blog ultra-mushy. Interestingly enough, however, I have finally met someone who feels undecided about having children as I do. We share the same fears about bringing human beings of our own flesh and blood into the world: it helps to discuss these things that I have been mulling over for such a long time.
The other day someone asked me if I was "in love." Scratch that. She asked if I thought he was "the one." I told her I couldn't say that I knew that. I most certainly feel that I would like this to be something long term- definitely. But love? What is love? Do I feel it? There are moments when we have conversations that seem to last for hours that I think I feel it, know it, experience it, give it. There are moments, like now, when I look over at him (he doesn't know what I'm working on ) and I feel like I am in love- look at what he can do with his body, playing the drums like that. He plays the drums the way he lives his life: soulfully, with conviction, determination, sweat and effort. How can I not love that? I don't know...
Last month, while in Disneyland for Valentine's Day he told me he was falling in love with me. This excited me: it was certainly unexpected, but I was elated. We have not spoken of that day since. But we know it happened, and the memory still lingers in the air, pleasantly nostalgic. I don't think we need to speak about it... which brings me full circle to my first point. Here, there are no expectations. No mind games. Just contentment and growth (personal and as a couple). And that, for now, is all that I need.
Thursday, March 11, 2004
READING
Hello, all. I have just returned from a much needed hiatus. (More on that later)
The latest developments are that I have been dating the same guy I talked about earlier. We're going on 5 months and I honestly can't remember a time I have been happier with someone. Every new day holds something fascinating, compelling or inspirational. I feel like we're growing individually as well as together.
*note to self: must blog about Valentine's Day.
I just finished reading I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings by Maya Angelou. It was....well, simply put, there are very few words I can use to describe the tumultuous emotional states I experienced while reading every page in detail.
I was wondering if anyone out there in blogger land would have information on Maya Angelou's sexual orientation? The last chapter hinted at lesbian curiousity, but then she delivers a child through a series of unforeseen/unplanned events. She has a child, but she never answers the question of whether or not she's into the ladies.
Just curious.
If you know the answer, holla!
I miss my regular blogger friends. I have done you wrong my taking leave without giving you notice. I hope you can find it in your hearts to forgive me.
GG
Hello, all. I have just returned from a much needed hiatus. (More on that later)
The latest developments are that I have been dating the same guy I talked about earlier. We're going on 5 months and I honestly can't remember a time I have been happier with someone. Every new day holds something fascinating, compelling or inspirational. I feel like we're growing individually as well as together.
*note to self: must blog about Valentine's Day.
I just finished reading I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings by Maya Angelou. It was....well, simply put, there are very few words I can use to describe the tumultuous emotional states I experienced while reading every page in detail.
I was wondering if anyone out there in blogger land would have information on Maya Angelou's sexual orientation? The last chapter hinted at lesbian curiousity, but then she delivers a child through a series of unforeseen/unplanned events. She has a child, but she never answers the question of whether or not she's into the ladies.
Just curious.
If you know the answer, holla!
I miss my regular blogger friends. I have done you wrong my taking leave without giving you notice. I hope you can find it in your hearts to forgive me.
GG
