...for lack of what is found there.

Top Ten Lists are My Favorite: Characters I Wish I Could Marry

2011-08-31T21:27:00.001-05:00

Soooooooooooo...school started. And I stopped doing Top Ten lists. In order to bounce back in with a short and sweet post, I thought I would try to put a list that has virtually no merit whatsoever but is entertaining to think about. As you know, I get trapped inside stories pretty easily. Too easily. Maybe it is because I lack actual conversation or excitement or something, but somehow, characters start working their way around my brain like real people. (Sad, I know.) So, I thought it would be entertaining to make a list of the Top Ten Characters I Wish Were Real So That I Could Marry Them...Keep in mind: my standards for marriage are SO HIGH (obviously why I have not gotten married, right?), so although many characters throughout prose and film have made me swoon, few are worthy of wedding vows.

Also, don't judge that there are high school students on this list. We are dealing with a fictional universe where everything is okay.

*EDIT*

This is actually really hard to do since I take everything too seriously. Everything. So yeah, I have to quit thinking of a list of FICTIONAL characters I want to marry because it is taking up too much time.

In the meantime, here are a few who surely make it on the list...

Jim Halpert...Of course we all loved him more before he got the girl, but he's still pretty awesome.

He might be brooding and dark, but a girl has GOT to love Mr. Darcy.

He might be a little guarded, but he has wisdom leaking out of
his eyeballs. Atticus Finch is the man.

So...Matt Saracen is a character written to manipulate my heart. He is adorable in every way possible. (The actor isn't in high school...)


Eric Taylor. Oh, Eric Taylor. That is all I will say.

Top Ten Lists are My Favorite: My Family Vacation

2011-08-01T23:13:00.000-05:00

Hello, ya'll. I wanted to write about my Mediterranean Cruise with the family, but just writing about it would be terribly boring, so here's to continuing the trend! In no particular order, here are my ten favorite memories from the ten-day vacation.

1. So, this little angel represents a strange phenomenon that I witnessed very clearly on the trip. People need "home." Whenever I go on trips, it is always amazing to me how quickly wherever you are staying becomes a place of comfort, even if it isn't that comfortable. We had some really long days, and it was always such a blessing to come "home" to the cruise ship. (The towel creations were nice as well.)

2. I didn't take my own picture of it, but those who know me know one of (if not my favorite) my favorite desserts is tiramisu. Up until this trip, the best I had ever had was in Ft. Lauderdale. I had a lunch in Sorrento that ended with a small morsel of absolutely fantastic tiramisu. Was it the best? They were both so good that I can't decide, BUT this was certainly a highlight.

3. Most people know that I love musicals. I do. What I wasn't expecting was this little darling show (only an hour long) called Twice Charmed. Basically, it was a twist on the ending of Cinderella. I actually ended up watching it by myself (my mom came in late and was at the top of the theater), and I enjoyed it so much. I thought the actors were great; the singing was top-notch. The staging of it was actually what I was most impressed with, and I found myself more and more pleased and surprised with each unique way they chose to tell the story. Loved it.

4. Our first port was Malta, which is a beautiful place. We took a Turkish Schooner boat and traveled about an hour to spend the day swimming in the Mediterranean. The boat ride was a bit rough because people got sea sick, but once we anchored in, it was just magical. The water was SO CLEAR (everyone always says that...but it is just so shocking), and I just kept pinching myself because the whole experience was so surreal. I loved swimming between these two boats.

5. Little known fact: I love the prospect of being tan. Other little known fact: I hate sunbathing...for the most part. I get really hot really fast, so I end up going swimming, and my face, back, and forearms are always tan (burned), while the rest of me remains stark white. However, on the last day of the trip, we were at sea. It was super windy. I went up to the top deck fairly early and braved the wind. It was actually kinda cold, but I got a few extra towels and read my book. The sun started getting hotter, so I wasn't cold, but I was NEVER hot. The wind was amazing. I fell asleep. Then, I moved, and the wind died down, except for one part of the boat. I fell asleep again. It was the single greatest sunbathing experience of my life, and yes, I got burned a bit, but I never got hot. Wonderful.

6. Picking excursions is a bit daunting. They all sound awesome, and they are so expensive. Mom and I chose to do the "Day at the Farm" with the grandchildren from the start, and we were excited. Parts of the day did not live up to our expectations, but the meal (after a delayed start that landed us at our own private table in the lobby...) was so amazing. They would bring small plates out at a time, never giving large portions, but the courses just kept coming. Seriously, one man suggested that the day be called "Day at the Table" instead. This meal taught me the art of dining. Just to let you know, we had bread, olives, artichokes, eggplant, jalapeno peppers, olive spread on bread, an egg dish, potatoes, pasta, pot roast, and cannelloni. Never-ending but delicious.

7. Speaking of meals, we had a great waiter/waitress combo on the cruise ship. (There are three dining rooms, but your servers rotate with you to each of them.) The assistant server was a man from Bali named Inyoman. He shared MANY crayon tricks (brain teasers) with the kids (which turned into the entire table), and I really enjoyed this. I felt like it was a bonding experience for all of us and something we all enjoyed and laughed at. The meals were all special, but I especially loved what Inyoman brought to the table.

8. I knew I was excited to see Rome, specifically the Colosseum. Standing inside it seemed so surreal. I just wonder what that must have been like. I also wonder how in the world they were so good at structural monstrosities back then, but that is another issue altogether. Yes, we have bigger stadiums now, but I'm not sure they could ever be more impressive.

9. Visiting Florence was really special to me. My mom and I went together, and although it was PACKED (which I loathe), everything was so beautiful. We walked A LOT, but I loved being there. (My mom bought a beautiful purse, so that was a plus.) I was continually impressed with the feats of architecture paired with the nuance of design and personality. The afternoon got super hot and wore on, but overall, the morning spent in Florence was absolutely lovely.

10. We went to three cities (not really cities, but whatevs) on the last day of the cruise...well, the last port. It was so unbelievably beautiful that I was in awe for most of the day, even though I kinda felt like a hobo. (It was SUPER wealthy.) Did you know it costs 50,000 euros to park your boat in the Monaco Harbor during the Grand Prix...per day? Yikes. Anyway, our VERY LAST stop was a medieval town at the top of a mountain called Eze. It is famous for making perfume, and it was magical. We only got to spend about forty-five minutes there, but I was mesmerized the entire time. It is hard for me to explain why, but I simply felt like a character in a story while walking UP the cobblestone path.

So, there we are! I do realize the value of seeing other countries, exploring new places. It is a little unnerving and really expensive, but travel does nourish the soul.

Top Ten Lists are My Favorite: Books

2011-07-12T23:30:00.003-05:00

In keeping with the trend, I have picked the ten (sort of) books that have had the biggest impact on me. Impact is an interesting word, however, because these books are on here for different reasons. Many of them (maybe more than should be on there for a high school English teacher) were formative for me as a child. They spoke to my imagination in a way that stuck, despite reading so many other books since. Some are on the list because a character jumped off the page or because I am jealous of the author's ability to craft a sentence. Some of these books deeply affected me as a human being, pushing me to grow as a person, and some, for the shame of it, simply kept me entertained. Let's be honest. I am only ashamed that they made it on the list because I am supposed to be. Ironically, I seem to make very little time for reading, and there are many books on important lists that have never made it off my bookshelf. I've never read Vonnegut, and I've only tried Capote once. Hemingway bores me, and Ayn Rand seems like such a beast. Tolkien would take more investment than I have to give, and Lewis remains on my shelf for no particular reason. You get the idea, I think. So, for better or for worse, here is my list, honestly...in no particular order, of course.

(I couldn't split them, so they made it on the list as one giant book.)

Honorable Mentions:

Top Ten Lists are My Favorite

2011-07-06T21:36:00.001-05:00

No pressure. I'm just gonna start blogging again, but I am going to start doing it in the form of lists. I don't know why; it just came to me. I miss writing, but I am also busy and terrible at doing it routinely. Lists I can handle for now. However, you should know that Top 10 anything is difficult for me to do, and don't you dare ask me to put them in order. No way, friends. This is just a nice list of my TEN FAVORITE TV SHOWS OF ALL TIME...right now.

I'm not even going to talk about them. I'm just going to give you some titles. Bam. Changed woman.The only rule is I want you to think about it too! Make your own list.

In NO particular order...

(Dan Dark, that one is for you.)

Two shows that will most likely edge their way into the competition but need more time are Modern Family and Parks and Recreation.

Oh geesh, I probably made some errors there. I will post before I regret it.

The Last Thing I Need to Be Doing Right Now...

2010-12-31T11:36:00.014-06:00

I was reading before falling asleep last night. (It is LOVELY to be able to do that, but now I have my schedule all nice and ruined before heading back to school.) I started thinking about the past year because that is what one is supposed to do on New Year's Eve Eve, I guess. I tried to think about the best moments, those that stand out to me out of the 525,600 (start singing it, please) moments that I have lived this year. That is actually kinda hard to do. Maybe it's just me, but I feel like I shaft the little spots of gold that were too unplanned for a camera. I wracked my brain, and most of the unexpected gems have surely faded away. However, this year has been ... fast. Too fast. When you live at a pace that tries to fill the day with constant responsibilities, time moves so quickly. Maybe I feel like I am constantly chasing it rather than relishing it. Will I always feel like that?

I digress.

So, (my favorite transition) I went to sleep, hit snooze for two hours this morning, and started thinking about listing the best of 2010. I like lists. In some ways, it makes me sad because my life away from school seems pretty bleak according to this list. In some ways, I can't help but be thankful again today for having a job that provides so many blessings. This list is in no particular order. The New Orleans trip, if given an option, would dominate a Top Ten Moments list. It was, hands down, the highlight of my year. I continue to think about it often, and I am thankful that I am permitted to plan countless reunions. So, I tried to limit New Orleans' moments on the list, but you will still see a lot. :)

Here's to you, 2010. (Oh my, this got really long. Surprise.)

1. "What haste looks through his eyes. So should he look that seems to speak things strange." (I did that from memory, boys!) Macbeth is not my favorite play, but being in a play with students and colleagues and an awesome directorial duo was really special to me. (And I loved eating chicken around that fire.)

2. CWC jr. If I have to pick a moment, which I guess I didn't do with Macbeth, it would be the first time Ian read to everyone or open mic night. Yes, open mic night it is. I was so tired. It was the night of the walk-a-thon. The day before had been the frisbee tournament. Parents would be there. The kids were INCREDIBLE, playing the crowd like trained comedians. I sat and ate my delicious chicken salad sandwich and cookies and watched and learned.

Oh geesh. I am doing that thing where I write a paragraph...I need to stop.

3. Sheehanigans TOOK OFF. This also caused a lot of stress and terrible back problems, but it has truly been a blessing for me and something to look forward to in the future.

4. Spending most Friday nights with my mom. We have grown so close, and there is so much comfort in going to her house each Friday night, putting on my PJs, sitting in the recliner and watching television. (And falling asleep at 9:32.)

5. Watching Nick when he spotted Kaitlyn for the first time at Morris Fork when she came to visit. That hug was so genuine. It was so beautiful.

6. So, the entire Academic Banquet was wonderful. But maybe a highlight would have to be when Alex told everyone that I was his Lady Gaga, well, his and many others'.

7. Have you ever seen Jeff Gutzwiller dance? Line dance? H-I-G-H-L-I-G-H-T.

8. It takes a long time to finish the literary magazine, even when you think it is almost finished. When that moment comes, add six hours of work to what you think will be one. However, in the midst of that, you have these ridiculous bouts of crazy. Thus, I present you with moment #8: the Doodle paragraph in the back of Chicken Pox. I think Aamena cried from laughing. (We know it's not that funny.)

9. Have you ever heard Daniel Schoch sing? What about sing to songs like "Push It"? Hmmm...our van heard that on the way home from New Orleans. It was priceless.

10. I always love Mini-O, but 2010 was something incredible. My top moment? Either seeing Funiture completely assembled or walking back to my classroom as all-out chaos was booming in by the main stairwell. I. Loved. It.

11. I tried to be like Jay Newlin last summer. I tried to host my own Backyard Games. It might not have been quite as successful as his, but watching my incredible colleagues play the Oreo game was something to be remembered. (Sidenote: Being a 3-peat champion at Jay's backyard games was also pretty incredible.)

Oops. Font change.

12.The past two Homecomings have been spectacular. But my highlight of Homecoming 2010 has to be the passing periods on Thursday (reflecting a bigger moment). When classrooms would empty, it was this crazy rainbow filling up the hallways. I believe the number was 1586, give or take a few. That is how many students participated on the class competition dress-up day. And thus, tradition is being born.

13. When we decided to do the Minute to Win It challenge, I didn’t want to throw up numbers. I never do. I didn’t want to give people a false expectation of what success would be. But you have to give a goal. You have to make it real. I don’t actually know how many students and staff members we have. I estimated at 2500. When Zoe read that we raised over $3,000, well, I screamed and danced, and I could spend quite a bit of time explaining why, but I will save that for another post.

14.Going along with that, let’s talk about the last day of the semester. Hunter and I (as per usual) still had a lot of papers to grade. I was supposed to leave at 3pm. That didn’t happen. I also realized that it would be possible for us to raise $20,000. The day before, when we were a little over $18,000, I was content. I was finished…again. And then generous people donated online. And boom, that day changed. All of a sudden, we had this unbelievable, never-would-have-dreamed-it goal in sight. And I will never know all the people who chipped in at the end. You see, we didn’t work for that last $1500. We were given a gift by teachers and community members and students and parents and alumni. Maybe even strangers. And, as the night wore on, and Hunter and I got crazier and crazier, the total rolled over $20,000. Incredible.

15. My niece and nephews are awesome. I love them all, but one highlight of this past year was getting to know Casey, my niece, a little better. She is fiery and loving, and I can’t wait to see who she becomes. She rocks stripes and polka dots like nobody’s business as well.

16. Another highlight has to do with the fact that my family will be going to Europe together this summer. I know it hasn’t happened yet, but the decision was made in 2010. It is a huge investment, and it stresses me out, but I know it will be simply wonderful.

17. I have a lot of great memories with Aubry and Carly (we spend a lot of time together), but I REALLY loved the night we did the "It Happened One Saturday Night" story. Read and see it here: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=199517&id=503268952 (I wonder if that link will work.)

18. Oops, I tried to spread out the New Orleans moments, and now I am getting near the end and have a few left. The lying game. If you were there, you understand. "She was acting up."

19. The dedication. That was SO SPECIAL for me. I hope for everyone. But I didn't really want it to be about us.

20. CWC: Senior Year was a part of Chicken Pox that is priceless to me. I hope it wasn't completely self-serving. But I don't really think that many people would or could realize how special those words were (and will always be) to me.

21. There were a few moments from Halloween that I loved, but strangely, this might be my favorite.

22. Hearing Richard (and Jimmy) speak to us during the Face-to-Face tour was priceless. His words will continue to resonate in my heart for a LONG time to come. Hopefully, his words will be heard again in Uganda this summer or maybe in San Diego.

23. I think this will be the last one. I will come back with more, I am sure. (And no one will read them but me, and that's okay.) We did some "unpleasant" jobs on the work site in New Orleans. I am not sure if anything in the sun could be pleasant in late July in New Orleans, but there were just a few jobs that caused a tremendous amount of frustration. But, strangely enough, these jobs also caused so much pride. The teams that worked on them wore their badge of honor. They united and laughed behind the frustration. People screamed and possibly wanted to throw hammers, but still, they kept going. Pounding aluminum nails into the house was miserable. MISERABLE. I swear Kacie and Elly almost cried. I don't know how Alex and Corey did it for SO LONG. I just didn't understand. And then we got a new box. These were steel. (Or something way stronger than aluminum if I am wrong.) And HIT. HIT. HIT. DONE. HIT. HIT. HIT. DONE. Sometimes, maybe more than we acknowledge, the little victories taste the sweetest. High on those ladders, sweating buckets, feeling like a failure in every way possible, I was handed the greatest gift of my year: nails. It was (and still is) bigger than the nails, but like I said, maybe another time.

Go ahead and re-live your moments. It takes a bit of the blur away from time. You get some back.

Happy New Year.

Not a Finga!

2010-12-01T22:04:00.010-06:00

There is something special about this time of year, don't you think? There are all sorts of brushes to paint December with, but regardless of how far away I get from the magic of childhood, it seems that nostalgia attached to Christmas movies cannot be thwarted.

And so I present to you a complete waste of my precious grading time, otherwise known as:

Jacqui's Top 24 Christmas Movies...
I will save Christmas Day for you and your families, okay?
(I could have put twenty-five, but I felt like I was putting movies on there that don't deserve it just to fill the spots...I took this kinda seriously...)

I understand that this list will create violent reactions (from the three people who read it) because I failed to mention The Nightmare Before Christmas (I've never seen it!) or because Christmas Vacation is so low (I care about the others so much more...). You won't like that The Holiday is on there, I know. I understand that my undying love for certain movies is not because they are well-made or dazzling or funny; I just know that at some point in my life, these have become cherished gems that I look forward to seeing. There are some that I WILL NOT miss seeing each year and some that have since faded away, but maybe this year, I will bake some cookies, boil some water for hot chocolate, and take a trip down Holiday Lane. And if there is a movie (save the the bottom few) that you haven't seen, please do the same, will you?

24. Polar Express--I did not like this movie. I LOVE this book. Since graduating from college, it is one of my greatest joys to read this book to my friends while drinking hot chocolate and sitting around my newly decorated Christmas tree. Seriously. It only made it on the list because of the book; the movie was a grave disappointment.

23. The Christmas Shoes--Okay. It was in a moment of emotional delusion that I watched this movie in Morris Fork. Yeah. I cried. It was so sappy sweet, but it was so sappy sweet...do you get me?

22. Very Brady Christmas--You know you got a little nervous when Mike got caught in that building. YOU KNOW IT.

21. Claymation Christmas--This might be higher on the list, but I haven't seen it since elementary school. Where has it gone?

20. Twas the Night Before Christmas--Same with this one...I am pretty sure I loved it though.

19. Holiday Inn--I didn't see it until last year. It can't be any higher, you know? (I will blow that theory with White Christmas, but whatever.)

18. Mickey's Christmas Carol--At this point, I started shaving away parts of my heart because I pretty much love every movie on this list from now on...

17. A Very Merry Cricket--No one understands why I love this so much. When that little cricket quiets Times Square with his beautiful wing music...geesh, I swoon.

16. The Holiday--What can I say? I am a sucker for Jack Black in a romantic comedy. "Well, hello, big dollop."

15. The Family Stone--I LOVE this movie. I hesitated putting it on the list, but it is a beautiful (and hilarious) story about family. Around Christmas.

14. Frosty the Snowman--Well, "Happy Birthday!"

13. The Grinch--Yes, the cartoon is better than the real re-make. No questions asked.

12. The Santa Clause--Why did they have to make more? The first one was actually pretty great. Don't laugh at me.

11. White Christmas--I just saw it two years ago. I love it. I wish I had a lifetime of watching it to make it mean even more.

10. It's a Wonderful Life--The purists will say this deserves a higher seed. I went with my OWN ideas, okay?

9. Miracle on 34th Street--I love the original. I love the remake. (When does that even happen?)

8. Christmas Vacation--Amazingly quotable? Yes. Hilarious? Yes. A part of our shared culture? Yes. Kills me because of the destruction of the house every time? Yes...like, it hurts me to watch it.

7. Rudolph--Rudolph's voice alone says "It's Christmas." Picture him saying it: "I'm coming, Santa!"

6. Home Alone--This is the only movie I ever saw with my entire family in the theater. My sister packed microwave popcorn bags (pre-popped) into her over-sized coat. My dad cried because he laughed so hard.

5. Elf--Sarah Lantz stood up and clapped when this movie ended. I joined her. Talk about an instant classic. That is very hard to do.

4. Garfield's Christmas--I don't care what you think, I simply adore it. ADORE IT.

3. Charlie Brown's Christmas--One of my students told me today that her family watches this every year, and she hates it. A little part of me died inside. Linus' speech about the "Babe in the manger" brings it all together. "Lights, please."

2. This was so difficult...but I decided that Muppet's Christmas Carol lands here. Words cannot express how much I love this movie. It is magical in every way...except for the Ghost of Christmas Past; she is terrifying.

1. A Christmas Story--It wasn't going to be here at first, but I had to think about how many memories and joyful events revolve around this movie. I have watched it with family and friends so many times, and only in my older years did I learn to value the magnificent voice of the narration (not just his voice...the words) and the real magic it holds right beneath so much hilarity.

And there you have it, folks. What do you think? Let me know!
PS. I dare you to try it. A top ten was so painful.

Letter 8--Hi, you don't know me, but...

2010-08-30T19:10:00.002-05:00

So, I am doing this challenge on my own time. I figured no one will really mind.

Today's letter is supposed to be to my favorite Internet friend. Does this imply that I am supposed to have friends who are only known to me because of the Internet? I don't think I have those. Should I pick the person who makes me laugh the most on the Internet? The person who has a blog I check each day? The person I stalk the most on Facebook? (Don't tell me you don't have those people.) Well, I can't pick a favorite, so I will take a different route. (Surprise.)

I wonder if Facebook has ruined me permanently.

During last Spring, when I was uber-busy, I realized that my only communication with the outside world once I left school was Facebook. I didn't see my friends, I didn't talk to my friends, but I would see what they were doing on Facebook. As sorry as this sounds, there was a period of time when Facebook was my social life.

Even now, when I am not nearly as busy, I know I hunger for real fellowship and camaraderie in my life because Facebook just doesn't cut it. When I got home from my trip, I was so depressed that I would hope for photo comments to make it seem like real conversation was happening. This sounds so pathetic, but it is true.

Would I be an absolute hermit if Facebook didn't exist? OR, would my relationships be more meaningful because I would have to try harder, rather than relying on simple status updates or pictures to make me think I know what is going on in people's lives? I am not sure I know the answer.

I do know that I spend too much time on Facebook, but it really is useful. And I love witty people. And I love the ease of communication for clubs and such. And I love keeping in touch with people who aren't here right now. I love all of that. I wonder if the fad will end. I wonder what will take its place, what major life-changing web page will happen next. I keep waiting to see when it will no longer be useful, when it is old hat. (I held onto my xanga for a lot longer than most people...) I don't know. Huge societal changes fascinate me. The world will never be the same. I will never be the same. I know that sounds ridiculous, but it is true.

I just don't know if I am better.

Letter 7--I know why it took me so long.

2010-08-21T22:23:00.004-05:00

Hey, online world.

I decided to return tonight.

I left off at Letter #7. This one is supposed to be to an ex-boyfriend/crush/love. I shudder at the thought.

Dear __________________,

I wrote poems about you, to you. I kinda laugh at myself now when I stumble upon all of the musings in old journals about you. You are not just one person. Technically, you could be, but no, my heart was broken many times. I was told I loved too much, too readily, too easily. I was told I played all the wrong games, set myself up for disappointment. Maybe so. I hate those kinds of games. Still do.

You taught me that I am intrigued and intimidated by shyness. I always fall for guys who are tall, intelligent, and competitive. I deeply desire to be with someone I can trust, someone who knows me, someone I know. I love when you make me laugh. You taught me to be careful, to stop assuming that little things mean big things. You taught me to quit wishing for signs that were not there. You taught me never to take the first step, for fear of losing everything. You taught me what it feels like to be discarded. You taught me what it means to be a friend.

I hold no anger, really. I just sobered up, stopped dancing in the daze of hope.

And I have you to thank for that.

EDIT: Holy muffin-top, Batman. Upon second read, that sounded like the biggest bowl of angsty fifteen-year-old soup I have ever consumed.

I'm coming back, I promise.

2010-08-05T18:57:00.003-05:00

I know I said I would be back after the trip, but just give me a few more days.

(As if anyone cares. I just feel less guilty this way.)

It was at school, but it wasn't really at school.

2010-07-23T13:33:00.004-05:00

Ooops, I accidentally wrote a letter to a stranger before I wrote a letter to my dreams. How dare I, really? I wonder if I am supposed to write a letter to my dreams (my hopes and aspirations) or to my dreams (those things that happen while I sleep). I am not feeling too serious, so I will go ahead and write a letter to my nocturnal musings. Really...I am skirting the issue...I will write a post about dreams.

There was a short period of time when I wanted to be one of those people who interprets dreams. I was fascinated by them. Then, there was this old guy, Robert, who had some connection (I have no idea what) to my dorm in college. He would show up from time to time, wearing his big, black shoes and his too-thin tie, and this man could spin a tale about dreams that I had never witnessed before. He had books and history and psychology mumbo-jumbo attached to all of his analysis. I thought he was just a little bit crazy, but I loved him. I don't remember the names of most of the people on my floor in college, but I remember Robert, the dream-chaser.

I hate how dreams drift away. The details become fuzzy, and unless you have someone to share them with almost immediately, they inevitably disappear, if you remembered them in the first place. I have always wondered how much dreams mean. Like, why do some seem so real? Why do some seem so deranged? Why do some repeat themselves? Why do the visuals often not match up to the presumed reality of the characters? Why am I in the dream sometimes and watching myself sometimes? Color? Black and white? People I know? People I have never seen? It's all a little wacky, really.

I remember a vivid dream I had in elementary school. I was re-telling it to a friend, and right after I got to the part where the person (another friend) apologized for being cruel in the dream, the other friend came up and apologized for being cruel in real life. I almost wet my pants.

Speaking of wetting my pants, I remember one time (in...seventh grade...), I dreamed about a new holiday: National Pee Day. And everyone had the freedom to pee wherever they wanted all day long. I woke up to a pee-soaked bed.

I remember I used to dream about driving a car (before I drove cars) that got larger and larger as the dream progressed. And it would drive on the walls (yes, walls) of the interstate, and I couldn't see anything. It was terrifying. I had this dream a lot.

I remember I dreamed that I screamed at my students because they wouldn't stop laughing at me. I was trying to teach class, and they just laughed and laughed. I was incensed. Like, rip your hair out, total loss of control. Really, it was just my alarm clock that was set with a laughing ringtone. (A similar situation has happened on MANY occasions...almost always dealing with students...isn't that weird? It is as if they are trying to get me to wake up or something.)

There are more, but I will stop.

I definitely think there are aspects of life that we will never understand, maybe we aren't meant to understand. Deja vu (no idea how to spell and punctuate that correctly), middle school, the grief process, people's capacity for evil, dreams, etc. It seems impossible that symbols mean the same thing in one person's dream as another. I just can't believe that our sub-consciences work out issues with the same symbolism and imagery. Maybe our dreams are a chance for our brains to imagine without our self-editing tools kicking in. I wonder if the dreams of children are less vivid because their imaginations are turned on so much more during waking hours. Who knows? I don't think about this often, but I was told to write a letter to my dreams.

Love Always,
Jacqui

PS. Hopes and dreams, umm...I want a room wallpapered with postcards. I want to go to Africa and Greece. I want to build/have/make a photography studio and learn how to take pictures better. Ehhh, I want so much. Namely, right now, I want fair food, so I will be driving to Lafayette and enjoying pulled pork, corn on the cob, and a funnel cake tonight.

The Stranger on the Street

2010-07-22T19:58:00.003-05:00

I am not really a fan of this assignment.

I am supposed to write a letter to a stranger.

Ugh. I have to have more direction than that, so I will create it.

To the stranger I will meet in New Orleans,

I hope I talk to you, take advantage of meeting someone with a lifetime of different experiences than me. I hope I can be an encouragement to you, the hands and feet of Jesus, while I work on building a house. I hope your week is brightened by our team's presence, a lift at just the right time. I hope I see your story rather than judge your appearance. I hope you play music and create memories for my kids. I hope you will be given an ear, someone who wants to hear what you have to say. I hope I can be patient if you change plans on me.

But, really, I just hope I see you. Really see you, even if just for a moment.

We are Family.

2010-07-21T20:13:00.002-05:00

Hello, world.

Letter 3 is supposed to be to my parents. Letter 4 is supposed to be to my siblings. I am just going to smash them together into one gigantic letter to the family. Because my family did not request that I write them letters that anyone can read, I will choose to keep these short and simple, not too personal.

Dear Mama,

Thanks for letting me be who I wanted to be, rather than a manufactured version of yourself. It is hard to imagine life with different parents or a different family, but I took for granted how independent you always let me be (and it might now be bothering you, actually). You have allowed me to make mistakes and make my own choices, and I honestly think I can handle pretty much anything because you have always told me I could. Thank you for your unwavering compassion on all living creatures and your bravery to walk down new roads even late in life. Thank you for watching movies and television with me, for loving me through your frustration with me, and for always providing a home for us.

Dear Dad,

Goodness knows we aren't that close, but there are things about you that I admire. I assume that I got my thirst for knowledge from you, and I love how much you know about history and the world. Thanks for always taking me on rollercoasters when I was a kid; those times at Kennywood are some of my dearest childhood memories. Thank you for not taking things (especially yourself) too seriously. Thank you for your work ethic. Thank you for your unique and heartfelt Christmas presents and your generosity to me. Thanks for naming me Bunk.

Dear Tara,

I am so glad you are going to New Orleans with me. I am so excited for you to enter into my world, to see what it's like from my point of view. I hope you love it; I hope you love my kids. Tara, of anyone I know, I think I watched you change so much as you have gotten older. That is something rare in a person, and I truly respect how you have embraced and chosen your life. I have watched motherhood soften your personality, but I love that you have a fire that won't go out. I am amazed that college you existed when I see how amazing your home is now. I can handle the fact that you are pathologically crazy when it comes to cleaning and "purging," especially when I reap the benefits. :) Your self-discipline astounds me, and yes, although I would never want to work hard enough to get there, I am jealous of your mad marathon-ing skills.

Dear Greg,

I know that my distance has hurt you the most. I am sorry for that. I have always looked up to you, even during your awkward junior high phase, and I must have gained at least a piece of my competitive nature from you. Nearly every reminiscence about childhood begins while dancing on your toes, and now, I love to see you raising two wonderful children, providing so much for your family. You are a go-getter, which I admire, but you haven't lost your humanity, which is utterly important. I wish you would slow down once in a while, let go of your phone for a few minutes, allow yourself not to be defined by your work, but I know you will eventually slow down. I love your sense of humor and your loyalty to sports teams. I hope we do grow closer.

Hey family,
I can't wait to travel the world with you next summer. Sincerely, I simply cannot wait.

Ooops.

2010-07-20T16:14:00.001-05:00

I am already going to be late. Watch for letter 3 and 4 tomorrow.

Someday, you will be loved.

2010-07-19T10:08:00.002-05:00

So, letter #2 is supposed to be written to "my crush." Hmph. This could be funny.

Dear ____________________,

I don't have a crush, so you are a blank name. I don't meet many new people, don't have time to get all giddy over people anymore, don't really desire anything meaningless in my life. However, I would like to write a letter to the man I will marry. (I am fully aware of the fact that I probably won't get married, and this very well might change upon meeting someone I would actually like to marry, but this is fun, guys.)

Dear ______________________,

I am already planning the job I will have when I retire from teaching.

I tell you this because there are some things you need to know about me, and the first thing you need to know is that I will love you in the best possible way I can. The second thing is that in order for me to be able to do that, you will have to be okay with me having other passions besides you. I hope you are thankful for that. I don't want you to stand in my shadow; I want you to do the same. I hope our passions coincide, but they do not have to do so in every regard. You must love kids. You don't have to be a teacher. You must love learning. You don't have to have multiple degrees to show it. You must love service. You don't have to love Uganda. You must love parties, but you don't have to plan them. You must love beauty and art, but you don't have to take the pictures or be in the shows. You must love reading and writing, but you don't have to be a published author.

You are going to have to listen to my stories, even when you don't know the faces of the kids I tell you about. You are going to have to deal with me in April and May, when no one should have to be around me. I might even make you grade some papers. You are going to have to go to prom with me, but I promise I won't make you stay the whole time.

(Wow, this letter is actually difficult to write, especially without pre-planning.)

You are probably going to feel uncomfortable the first time you meet my friends, especially if it is with the large group. We have a lot of history together, and people have told us from time to time that we are a tough group to crack. Just ask questions. I will get you ready for them. And, you will love them too. (Or else we won't really work, so that's a deal-breaker.) And you will enjoy playing board games and corn hole and going to Holiday World. You will love outdoor movies at the IMA and cook-outs and dressing up for Halloween. You will love the Artcraft Theater and A Christmas Story and NBC Thursday nights. I can't wait until you are part of the shared history of us too.

And you will care for my mom like she's your mom (because you obviously really care for your mom). And you will give piggy back rides to our nieces and nephews and cheer for them when we travel to see sporting events. And you will love Tara's design sense and Greg's knowledge of business and sports. And you will appreciate my dad's understanding of history and his interesting array of Christmas gifts.

And you will challenge me. And you won't let me settle. And you won't let me slide by. And you will tell me when I'm wrong....and when I'm right. And you will hold my hand in unexpected moments. And you will help me love people better. You will teach me about cars and lawn care and money. Or we will at least teach each other. And it would be really awesome if you could be a self-taught carpenter or handyman. That would be SWEET. :) You will be intelligent and competitive, and maybe we can exercise together by playing games and doing fun things. You might even take ballroom dance lessons with me. I'm not pushing my luck, though.

And, most of all, you will love Jesus a lot. Not in a superficial way, but in a real...tough...messy kind of way. And, you will seek to love me as Jesus loves us, and you will be the head of our household because that's how it is supposed to be. You will appreciate my strength, though, and we will learn what it means to follow Jesus together. We will pray and worship and serve and love together. Even when it is difficult.

I can't wait to meet you.
(Well, let's be honest. On many days, I don't really think I want to meet you, but whatevs.)

Hmmm...I think I have rambled enough, even though I've only scratched the surface. I am sure my expectations are ridiculous, but why not set my sights high? Marriage will be hard enough. I might as well hope for someone amazing.

Love always,
Jacqui

Take a Bite out of Life

2010-07-18T17:05:00.002-05:00

Okay, I am going to do it.

I know I am going to regret it, and I also know that I will probably miss a few days, but I am going to jump on the bandwagon (created by Lauren Sedam...I'm not sure how much of a bandwagon it actually is) and do the 30-Day Letter Challenge. Each day, I will post a letter written to a specific audience. Really, I am doing this for me, but if by some miracle, one of my four readers stumbles upon something encouraging, then fantastic. I don't stick with anything when it comes to writing; this is a good place to begin. I will address some letters by name, but I will keep some to myself. It will be challenging and probably too personal, and hey, I'm okay with that.

So, without further ado, (I love that phrase), let me begin with Letter #1.

Letter #1 is supposed to be written to my "best friend."

Oh geesh. Houston, we already have a problem.

Dear Best Friend,

When I was young, you were Lauren Bayly, without fail and without question. You have also been Bekah Manning, Adri Byrd, Nathan Epple, Nick Epple, Sean Booher, Sarah Lantz, and Aubry and Carly Faulkenberg (they go together, you know). And there were moments of best friendship with others, but I don't want to get carried away here.

In elementary school, naming your best friend was so important. It was a badge of honor or a badge of shame. You had to nab a best friend because no one wanted to be best friend-less. As time passed and geography changed, so did my need for friends. I wanted lots of them, was blessed with a diverse group of people who challenged me and made me laugh and made fun of me. :) There were times when I could not go to sleep without making sure I had said (or typed) "Good night" to my best friend. There were some best friends who needed me much more than I needed them, which, in turn, made me need them. Strange how that worked. There were some best friends who seemed to understand me implicitly, and there were some who seemed to need understanding that only I could give. There were times (too many, I am afraid) when I lost my best friend. Most of them, in fact, are gone, at least from my direct and close acquaintance. And so, maybe I decided after watching my heart walk away too many times that I needn't put too much hope in a single person, until, if it is to be, I get married someday.

This way of friendship is much less painful, but I fear I do not love as deeply, know people as well, or grow as much as I did before I started teaching. I fear that although there are countless friends in my life who would do anything for me, know me through history, and yes, can still make me laugh and laugh at me, very few people truly know me, if anyone at all. Then again, what does that even mean?

I am thankful for you, best friends, who watch movies and laugh about farting and go line-dancing. I am thankful for you, best friends, who plan trips to Holiday World and the IMA and Memorial Day Cookouts. I am thankful for you, best friends, who gave me a foundation, a home away from home, a more full understanding of human beings. I am thankful for you, best friends, who broke my heart but in the process taught me more and more about love. I am thankful to you, best friends, who watch Colts Games and Thursday night television with me. I am thankful to you, best friends, who care deeply about your relationship with God (and mine) and are constantly seeking growth and understanding. I am thankful to you, best friends, who love food and frisbee and puppies.

Friendship is a clever beast. It is vitally important for a full life, yet it is constantly changing and can easily become a complete stranger without our even realizing it walked away. I desire to learn how to be a better friend again, but that, as they say, is easier said than done.

Love always,
Jacqui

Eat the Cookie

2010-07-16T00:16:00.003-05:00

I just ate a bunch of cold, plain rice. With a spoon. Out of a giant Tupperware bowl.

Delicious.

(Oh wait. This was meaningless. I was going to try to write meaningful stuff, but I already changed my status three times within the last two hours; I just could not do that again.)

Welcome Back.

2010-07-12T22:59:00.003-05:00

Okay.

It is July 12th. (I think?) I'm gonna start writing again.

I always talk about the fact that I don't write. Or that I don't write well. I always think about what I would write if I did write, but then, I don't. I am afraid that some internet virus will respond to me, but no one will really listen.

And then I have to admit to myself that I really love having an audience.

Too much.

So, maybe I shouldn't talk about writing. Maybe I should just write. Maybe I shouldn't worry about my audience (even though I can't stop doing that). Maybe I shouldn't worry about sounding eloquent or witty or inspiring (even though I won't stop that either).

Being a hermit is really easy for me.

Like...I have no trouble at all staying up until 3am, sleeping until noon, staying in my pjs until 4, taking a shower at 5, cooking some dinner, watching tv intermittently throughout the day, and then doing the same routine again. I have to plan parties in order to avoid making this a permanent routine. Parties require shopping, cooking, and cleaning. Otherwise, I might as well be called Boo Radley.

I really love taking people's portraits.

Like...really love it. The problem is that I hate that I am technically deficient, and I don't know how to get better, save throwing more and more money at better equipment. I want to take classes. I want to take pictures like this:

Do you see how vibrant that color is? DO YOU SEE THAT?

Or this:

See how that black is black, and that white is white? See how beautifully the shot is composed?

I want that.

Hmmm...onto other stuff, I guess.

I am scared of the upcoming school year. Scared.

Like...when I think about it, I get a rotten feeling in my gut. What am I scared about?

Well, I am scared that I will hate the new format of each day. I am scared that I won't have the ability to stay on track and focused and disciplined. I am scared I will spend the entire year playing catch-up. I am scared that a part of my heart will be gone. I have had that feeling before, but it is different this time. I am scared that in only my ninth year, I am somehow getting burned out. I am scared that I will forget to love people again. I am scared that I will be overwhelmed. I could go on.

I mean, it isn't like I won't be able to handle it. I don't want to just handle my life, though. I want to love it. I need to have the attitude that it will be an adventure worth taking, a fitting change of pace since so many faces will be missing from my daily regime. I want to lead by service, by love, by joy, by passion, and I want, somehow, to know that I have challenged my students to be better students, better thinkers, better readers, better writers, and better human beings. I want to be exhausted. I want to get better. To be better.

But, what I really want is to be there for people, like I used to be. I want to give people attention and love who aren't easy to love. I don't want to be too busy for people anymore. I wouldn't mind if people needed me again.

I'm turning thirty in September.
Maybe that's what really scares me, for some reason.

Long Time Coming.

2010-03-27T12:06:00.000-05:00

Ooops. I forgot to write stuff.

Stuff.

Phfew. Check that one off of my list.

Pieces of the Quilt

2010-01-31T01:06:00.003-06:00

I used to dance on the top of my brothers toes. Twirling me around the kitchen, he would be able to avoid having to do the dishes. He always made it seem like a privilege for me to "get" to put away the silverware. That was my job--putting away the silverware.

I had a best friend from the time I was four. She lived diagonally behind me, and we met while in our respective backyards. One time, in the middle of summer, we sat on the edge of her pool, fully clothed, and splashed our way into sopping wet bursts of laughter.

My sister borrowed a dollar from me when I was very young. She never paid me back.

One time, we found a stray dog on the street going to our old pool. It was a tiny little white puppy, with a scratchy pink tongue. We cared for it for a few days and named it Woodland. (The name of the street...totally lame name.) I fell in love with that dog so fast, and it crushed me when its owners retrieved it.

For my sixth birthday, my grandmother bought me these cut-out dolls. I opened the present right after school, before my party, and for some reason, I said I "knew I wouldn't like it" when I opened it. I was immediately banished to my room and spent the rest of my birthday "grounded."

My dad built me a swing-set in our backyard. The coolest part was that one of the swings was actually a boat bumper. I would sit on it and talk my way into "pumping" high. I would convince myself that I had super powers.

I found empty bottles of alcohol hidden in an upstairs closet. My dad just couldn't break that habit; my mom just couldn't stand it any longer.

I had many Barbies when I was younger. I played with them all the time. One day, they went missing. Some clothes were left, but all of the dolls disappeared out of my playroom. That mystery has never been solved.

I threw up at Chuck E. Cheese while standing in line to get into the ball pit. The characters were all real then; they weren't robots dressed in ridiculous attire.

I collected stickers with my friend Erin when I was little. We would trade them. She lived in an actual log cabin, and I went to the symphony with her family. She also introduced me to God.

I loved the Pirates, Pittsburgh's baseball team. We got to sit in my dad's company's box seats and watch games. I didn't even know football and basketball existed.

I met Chris, one of my best friends through childhood, while playing a game with a hula hoop in kindergarten. He was brilliant. He had a computer. Mostly, we traversed through our imaginations together.

I don't know why I started typing this. I had no intentions when I sat down. I just started typing bits and pieces of my collective memory, and these are the first moments that came out. I wonder why we hold some pieces so dearly, while others vanish after a short time. As I am constantly thinking and wondering what it actually means to grow older, wondering what it means to be me, I am flabbergasted as to the transformation that must happen in every single life. How seemingly unimportant scraps of time have a profound impact on our perception of ourselves and the world. And, at the same time, it is amazing to me that I can continue to push forward, pretending that I am utterly unaffected by yesterday, only holding onto the promise of tomorrow.

The Sound of Silence

2010-01-09T19:42:00.001-06:00

I am at my mom's house, so I have internet access for a few hours. My mind has been on full-throttle, but I have been living inside my head so much. There are no sounds from apartments, there is no television, I learn about nothing (unimportant as it may be) from anyone I know on Facebook, and I don't really talk to anyone on the phone. I have been stuck in a new place, stuck only because I am freaked out by all that isn't the way I want it to be, and I have felt pretty alone.

Yet, I don't waste hours watching television or learning nothing about people on Facebook...so, that's good, right?

All I know is that at this point in January, I have already felt the doldrums of winter settling in, and usually that doesn't happen until February. Yikes.

I have resolved to pour my heart into re-designing my classes and learning to see all of my students as children of God before I see them as failing statistics. I have resolved to be more thankful and not dwell on all that will make me uncomfortable in the coming years due to gross spending inadequacies in the state and federal budgets for education. It isn't supposed to be about me, right? Oh yea...I have also resolved to cherish the remaining months that I have with the class of 2010. Our days are numbered, and I am fighting all urges to take a year off of teaching so that I don't have to learn to be at school without them.

This was a sad post. Or boring.
Sorry.

Winter does that to me.

Paint in My Eyeballs

2009-11-07T21:23:00.003-06:00

I've been working and buying and thinking and driving and thinking and buying and working a lot.

None of this has been connected to school.

Guilt has crept under my pores and has started to ooze out.

On a slightly unrelated note.

Have you ever thought about your future? Like, really thought about it?

Imagine yourself twenty years older than you are right now. Really. Try to do it. What will you do with your time? What will you look like? Where will you be? What/who will you love? I don't know what I am supposed to think, and I don't know about you, but that utterly

FREAKS

ME

OUT.

I don't get to "take my DVR with me" when I move. Bummer.

2009-10-28T19:35:00.005-05:00

I have slightly disturbing news.

If I wanted to ruin my life a little more, I would probably love Twitter, but that makes me sad.

You know why?

I think in status updates. Seriously, in my pea-little brain, throughout the day, I have thoughts that I would love to "share with the world," and they are simply strange little statements about my life and the world around me.

The same question must be asked though. Who decided that "the world" needed to know all of my thoughts? And, conversely, when did I stop wanting to express myself in paragraphs and start wanting to express myself in quips and sentences? No time for an explanation...here's a little tidbit, world! I don't "have time" to talk to my friends, but I can let them know about the funny moment I had at Speedway! It is a strange transition of my brain, but I am amazed that I can actually dictate how technology has changed my way of thinking. Does that blow anyone else's mind?

So, here are a few of my status updates:
(I can't actually make them my statuses because I am selling Chicken Pox. I also don't want to be one of those people who changes status updates every forty minutes, even though I have a new thought all of the time.)

1. They ran out of Cherry Coke at Speedway. I tried regular Coke and cherry syrup. Not even close.

2. The colors of the leaves against the leaden hue of the sky nearly made me cry this afternoon. Absolutely breathtaking.

3. Every year I wait until the day before Halloween to get my costume together. Maybe this is why my costume is always lame.

4. The mouse in Mrs. Morrow's office was so stinking adorable. Why can't I have the same attitude toward the mouse that has possibly made its home in my apartment?

5. I get the keys to my new house tomorrow. MY house. So surreal.

6. I had a dream about the senior issue of the Focus. Does that mean I am demented?

7. I miss Alie.

8. I don't like candy corn. Never have. Never will.

Snicker Yum-Yum

2009-10-11T16:55:00.003-05:00

I graded at Borders today. Man, I love that place. Again, I was seated close to a group of older men who heckled each other and talked for two hours about politics, money, and how much money their wives spend. They seemed like old friends, but I was saddened by them. They were consumed with the economy and with their stocks and gold investments. They had print-outs as to how much money each had gained in the past week. I get worried about money, but I can't imagine that being what I care about the most. It sounds a bit snotty to say it, but I felt sorry for them. Then, I started thinking about all the stuff I worry about that is seemingly pointless as well. The whole time I was there I felt a little depressed, to be honest.

Then Alie brought me my very own serving of Snicker Yum-Yum (self-named), and things got a little better.

About Jim and Pam. (Yes, I am about to write about fictional characters as if they are real, but is that so different than spending time talking about music? It is all about connecting, right?)

Considering all that I believe about fictional romances and how superficial love is made to be on television and the movies, I should get upset at Jim and Pam. The show is, in essence, a comedy of errors, and there is virtually nothing comedic that their storyline gives to the show. They are the perfectly sculpted couple in the midst of a cast of eccentric and ho-hum normies. The writers made a choice, and that choice was that the show would continue to be funny, but the drama around Jim and Pam was not going to give us laughs anymore, nor would we be allowed to pine for the eventual "someday" that we hoped to have. That day has come. They are too perfect. Namely, he is too perfect. He is shockingly sweet and adorably goofy. At every turn, he does something that is quirky and romantic, and for goodness sakes, they ended up together even after she was engaged to be married to another guy. He even went so far as to say "he loved her from the first day he met her." (Gag...right, Alie?)

I should be bothered.
But, I am not.

I should understand that the real world does not offer so perfect a situation, so perfect a guy, so perfect a chemistry. I should be annoyed that my heart has been manipulated for five seasons.

I am not so naive to think that I will find a Jim someday, but is it so wrong to hope? I guess I want to believe that I am worth it. I don't want someone who wouldn't cut his own tie to make me feel better about my ripped veil. I want someone to see me like Jim sees Pam. I want to marry my best friend.

I am not out of touch with reality. I don't actually see this happening (don't actually NEED for this to happen), but I won't settle for anything less.

And that's why it is okay for me to love them.

It's okay to love them.

2009-10-08T21:23:00.003-05:00

Just let me be a hopeless Romantic for about twenty-four hours. After that, I will come back and talk about why I felt it necessary to post these pictures.

I am so lame.

2009-10-06T16:29:00.002-05:00

Hi.

I am lame when it comes to being a blogger. I would have less trouble writing about life if I just wrote about life consistently, but I don't. Just like I don't always pay bills on time or clean my apartment or go grocery shopping.

Ugh.

I just needed to say something new.

I am going to throw something out there. Despite the bubbly sweet goodness of Cream Soda and the unfading glory of Cherry Coke, hot chocolate might just be the world's most perfect drink.

Bagels are Good.

2009-08-25T22:26:00.005-05:00

So, I neglected to finish my summer Happy List. Oops.

I could write my thoughts for new (and old) college students, but I am not as eloquent as Miss Davis. Sooooooooooooooo, instead I will write this...

People talk about how much I do, but I actually spend a lot of time neglecting stuff. Sad, really.

About an hour ago, I was actually doing work when I felt the immediate need to eat a snack. It had been a whole five hours since I had last eaten, so obviously, I was famished. Thankfully, I had made a quick run to Kroger after play practice (what do you do when you realize that you are completely out of toilet paper while going to the bathroom?). At Kroger, I decided that I needed to buy bagels. Yum. I had a little leftover cream cheese from bean dip. Double yum.

Bagel toasting and scarfing (I hate seeing that word spelled out...it should not be spelled the same as the item of clothing) ensued.

While I was spreading the cream cheese, I thought to myself...

"Do I like anything more than a bagel and cream cheese?"

I immediately answered...

"Of course. I love tons of food. This is why I am fat."

Thus, the need to pick my Top 10 Favorite Foods arose. A bagel doesn't even make the cut.

In no particular order:

1. Alie's apple snicker yum yum.
2. Bean dip--Thank you, Sarah Kjeldsen. Thank you.
3. Chicken Enchiladas--Is it a Sara Lee recipe? Becky Gearhart?
4. Cheddar Munchies
5. General Tso's Chicken from China Garden (rice included)
6. The Hazelnut Raspberry Chocolate cake from Bone Fish
7. Breyer's Mint Chocolate Chip ice cream
8. Cornbread casserole
9. Guacamole (The best ever? Made fresh by the lovely women in Reynosa...)
10. Chicago's breadsticks with nacho cheese and/or Chicago's barbecue chicken pizza

Honorable Mentions: Either an everything or an asiago cheese bagel (toasted) with cream cheese, Bonefish's Florida Cobb Salad, Max and Erma's tortilla soup, Adrian Orchard's apple cider slushies, steak, baby back ribs, chicken salad, Sara Lee's potato salad, Poo Shingles, watermelon, asparagus, popcorn, and Brie cheese...with pretty much anything...okay...cheese, period.

You try it. It is really hard to choose.
(Especially if you have papers to grade and can make a list such as this to waste as much time as possible.) Instead of sleeping tonight, I will probably try to figure out what I have forgotten. It will plague me.

No, seriously. Respond with your favorites.

Summer, cont.

2009-08-06T11:20:00.003-05:00

4. Dancing

This summer has been filled with so much dancing.

We line-danced multiple times.
We danced in celebration of a good meal in Ocean Springs and of our independence on the streets of Birmingham.
We danced when Dana and Zach tied the knot.
And we danced even more when Ben and Hannah said their vows the following weekend.

Dancing and I have not always gotten along, mostly because I can't do it if it isn't choreographed. (This summer, only two years late, I fell in love with the "Cupid Shuffle." I thought it was the "Cuban Shuffle" for a while.) But, and this might sound creepy, I love watching people dance. I love how much laughter it invokes, how much personality. I love that people surprise me with their outlandish moves. I love that, despite it sounding so cliche, it seems to free people as they get lost in the beat of some stupid song.

There have been moments this summer when I felt sick to my stomach because I was laughing so hard while people danced. I LOVE that kind of stomachache.

Why don't we dance more often?

(Insert comment: I am NOT speaking of the kind of dancing that happens at most high school dances. That is called humping, and it is not freeing, fun to watch, or surprising...except when I see students who I respect in the middle of the mass of nastiness.)

Happy List, cont.

2009-07-27T22:19:00.010-05:00

3. Returning Home
There is a little place in Eastern Kentucky called Breathitt County. There is a little road called Morris Fork, where the little brown church on the hill resides. When I am there, I am home. Because life changed in many ways, I had not been there in what seems like a lifetime. Leading up to Bible School, I didn't know if maybe my time as music leader at Morris Fork was over. Something had changed, mostly me, I guess, and my boys have all grown up. Things there have changed so much; yet, maybe they haven't really changed at all. The point? I was more worried about the Habitat trip, and I was feeling quite strange as I traveled on 64 and then the Mountain Parkway. When I hit Booneville, my nerves actually started to awaken. Why the anxiety? Then, I drove through the familiar terrian of 28, and when I drove past the church, I saw the sign. "Welcome Southport. (And Jacqui)." That was Saturday afternoon. By Sunday, Biloxi was a lifetime away. I was home. No, things will not remain the same. Not in Morris Fork or anywhere, but there is simply a part of me that belongs there in the hollers of Eastern Kentucky. I can't really explain it, but I know I was so glad to be home.

(I cannot figure out why this keeps publishing in two different sized fonts. Oh well.)

Summer, Summer, Summertime

2009-07-22T14:52:00.005-05:00

I want to bring a classic back.

In order to capture this summer and what it has meant to me, I feel the need to bring back the Happy List.

Summer of 2009 Happy List, part 1

1. Eddie
Eddie was the cook at Camp Victor, the place we stayed on the Habitat Trip. On our first night, we were introduced to him as he was standing behind the glass of the serving line. Next, I saw him walking over to the dish table, parading Jamie around the dining hall with a huge smile on his face. To define Eddie in one word? Exuberant. To add a few more? Joyful. Service-driven. Hilarious. Kind. Humble. For some reason, upon our first meeting (when I insisted that he not give me TONS of red beans and rice when I went back to get seconds), he took to calling me Miss J. He never once called me Jacqui for the rest of the week, and I loved that. I don't know why, but he decided before we ever met that he was going to like me. Actually, that seemed to be the way he worked with everyone. It is a breath of fresh air to meet someone who seeks to serve on a daily basis with thunderous laughter and a knack for remembering names. The team looked forward to getting to spend time with Eddie in the kitchen. He cried when Gabe wrote him a poem. Eddie made a huge impact on me, and I only knew him for a few hours over four days. The power of attitude is extraordinarily strong; I am really thankful to Eddie for that reminder.

2. Gina's Life One of the biggest joys of my life as a teacher is that I get to live (just a bit) vicariously through the creative minds of my students. I am passionate about many things, but I don't have time to "do it all," but I have (or had) students who will embrace something that seems silly and run with it. I love that I often get to be there for the ride. For instance, why not make a movie version of "Gina's Life"? Why not go all out, with DVD cover and premiere party and boom mics held together with tape and paper towels? Why not? It just makes me smile SO MUCH to know there are people like Gabe out there who will actually follow through on something seemingly ridiculous. You know...liking dressing up as the Golden Snitch for the Harry Potter premiere.

More to come...

2009-07-19T14:09:00.004-05:00

Last summer was not what I was expecting. My mom got sick, and all other plans changed because of that. I did a lot of grad school work, and each morning, I would wake up trying to figure out what would make for dinner that night that was healthy and without dairy products. I did the dishes after each meal. I didn't really go anywhere, save a bummer-of-a-trip to Turkey Run. Yet, I think I will always remember it fondly. It was the last summer I spent with Nana, and it will forever mark a time in my life when family became more important. Even though I was not always happy, it was meaningful.

This summer has been a bit of a blur. In an effort to "suck the marrow out of life," I have been many places and have stayed busy throughout. I guess I don't know how to have a relaxed summer where I don't feel guilty because the days spent without plans (like today, for instance) have almost always involved sleeping in way too late, eating unhealthy food, and vegging on the couch watching Law and Order: SVU re-runs. I don't know how to function if I am not planning an event or planning for one. Really, I don't. That aspect of who I am freaks me out. How do people who don't have busy lives live on a day-to-day basis? That question might sound condescending, but I am being sincere.

I realize now that these words sound very similar to those I wrote on June 5th. It is now July 19th. Since June 5th, I have gone to camp, led music at VBS, taken a group to Mississippi, spent a day at the lake, tubed at Turkey Run, watched loads of movies, and I had the privilege of being in Dana and Zach's wedding. I have experienced so much, yet here I am, on this random Sunday afternoon, stuck on the same questions. This particular way I am wired tends to bother me a lot, I guess.

The Strange Beast of Summer

2009-06-05T16:58:00.004-05:00

As the title mentions, I find summer a strange beast.

I have so much time.

That is both a blessing and a curse.

It is a blessing because I can breathe, take a look around, go places, spend unlimited time with my friends, etc.

It is a curse because I find myself getting less and less productive the longer it lasts. Today, I took a "What is your petronus?" quiz. Seriously, world.

I do love how whacked I am because of my schedule after Spring Break. I wonder how many people out there live like that year-round. If it weren't for help from friends and students, I might not have made it this year. I certainly won't make it out of my tenth year teaching alive at this rate. For about six weeks, all I do is think about what I have to do, but I love the stress, save the few moments when I actually feel overwhelmed. I am programmed to work on deadlines. I like the energy of working something until it is finished, despite the hour of the day. I feed off of it, no matter how gross that makes me sound.

And then, like ...gosh...I have just tried to think about a good simile, and after six tries, I will relent to nothing...

And then, bam...summer.
For the first few days, I don't even know how to handle it. I am a bit confused. Graduation parties and room cleaning aside, I turn my attention to the great expanse of time ahead of me. I start reading. I sleep. I spend too much time on the computer, and this summer, I have taken up the strange habit of watching Law and Order: SVU re-runs. Is that show still on? It is pretty good.

After a few days of that, I start to feel restless. I start planning again...I just can't help it.

Maybe it is a good thing. I leave for camp tomorrow morning, and then I am home for six days before being gone for two weeks. It will be busy and amazing, I am sure. At least I won't have time to take the "what wife of Henry VIII are you?" quiz on Facebook.

Even I have my limits.

I really loved that curb.

2009-06-04T13:04:00.002-05:00

So, I was going to write a post about the power of quality storytelling in regards to Up (and all Pixar movies, really), but Eric did a fine job of it. Read his.

http://risiblepeople.blogspot.com/2009/05/i-hid-under-your-porch-because-i-love.html

In other news, I am about to do laundry.

Love is Not a Picnic Lunch

2009-04-26T15:21:00.002-05:00

Helllllllllllllllooooooooooooooooo...

So, I wrote some essays for This Island Earth, and this was my last-minute addition. It is a compilation of two old blogs as well as some new thoughts. I had very different intentions when I started typing, but this is what I had in the end. :) The spacing is weird--sorry.

Pudge and Chip. Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy. Ross and Rachel. Noah and Allie. Edward and Bella...

I remember when I first fell in love with a fictional love story. I was in tenth grade, and yes, (cough, cough) I was a cheerleader. We had a sleepover at one of the girl’s houses, and we watched Shag. The movie is set in the 1950s, when a group of four girls goes on a road trip to Myrtle Beach. The story follows their frenzied final week together before venturing off to college and marriage. Pudge, nick-named for her continuous battle with extra poundage, meets Chip, a quirky, cute local, and they become fast friends. By the end of their four-day stay, Pudge is madly in love and hoping for Chip to feel the same. Chip tries to play it cool, but he can’t help that he too has been hit by Cupid’s arrow. The viewer thinks that this perfect couple has missed their golden opportunity, but alas, they are thankfully reunited just in time to win the dance competition for which they had been practicing all week. By the closing credits, we know that his military career will have him only a few miles away from her college. And, yes, for those of you naysayers out there, they will most likely live happily ever after.

Phew. I was worried. Weren’t you?

Yes, I was fifteen, but loved that movie so much I watched it (along with the rest of the squad) for the second time the following morning. I connected with the story because these characters, although not entirely realistic, were real in a way that I liked. They had flaws, and they were not only interested in sex, as so many other love stories seemed to portray. The girl’s name was Pudge, for goodness sakes. They were cute and quirky, and admittedly, I am sure I imagined that I would someday find my very own Chip who would love me for who I was, despite a continuous battle with extra poundage.

Love stories and I have had a tumultuous relationship over the years. So often I try to be the voice of reason, chiming in to explain the inherent falsehoods within each predictable plot, but maybe it has all been a conspiracy, a cover-up to hide the tragic truth. I have all too often fallen for fiction, despite my awareness of its audacity. I have been that girl who claps at a happen ending, and I’ve cried when fate unfairly ripped two lovebirds apart. I have gushed over cheesy lines, and I have hoped for a storybook ending more than once in my own story, foolishly imagining (even if unconsciously) that love was magical, just like in the movies.

Newsflash: Pudge wasn’t fat. Chip wasn’t real.

I am not speaking to you as some jaded, single woman, desperately trying to demolish all of your hope in the power of love simply because I have not been so fortunate. In my vast and glorious wisdom, I have simply stumbled upon a very important question that begs to be answered. Has fiction, whether in the movies or in books, ruined our perception of love? Let me tell it to you straight. We can chat anytime you want, but for now, my podium must be this page.

Do you know what is dangerous? Giving your heart away.

Recently, I have been noticing how many high school students (and middle school and college and post-college…) carelessly get involved in romantic relationships without ever thinking about the lasting consequences. I watch as couples become so dependent on each other that they cease to exist as individuals. People who are too young to drive are having sex, and people who hardly know who they are begin to define themselves by another person. REAL love is hard, and it takes a great deal of selflessness, yet people get involved in relationships thinking that everything will be peachy, that it is all about that special feeling you get inside your gut, and that this person, whoever he or she may be, can do no wrong. I watch as people walk through the halls attached to each other, regardless of whether or not they are happy. I watch as people jump from relationship to relationship seemingly unable to walk alone. Why? Who told us to do this? Who said that foolishly throwing our hearts at anyone who might catch them is a good idea?

When you define your life by someone else, you begin to disappear. What happens if this relationship doesn’t work out? What happens if this person doesn’t turn out to be who you thought? Your world might crumble. When you build your life upon an unstable foundation, it is very easy to crash and burn. I have news for you; almost all high school relationships will not last, so why do you make decisions and give your heart away over and over again? Why do you live like you are married far before you are ready? Why do you not realize that your heart is fragile, that physical intimacy has far-lasting consequences on all levels, and that a boyfriend or girlfriend will NEVER satisfy all your desires. Regardless of what Tom Cruise once said, no person can truly complete you. And, there is no such thing as love from the word “hello.”

I am not trying to be a downer by any means. I love that God created us as relational beings, but I also believe that He had a perfect formula in mind, and every time we forget His way, we set ourselves up for a great deal of pain. And, I am not saying that high school students can’t do relationships intelligently, but sadly, more often than not, it just isn’t the case. We are selfish by nature; we want to please ourselves right now. It takes a lot of maturity, self-discipline, and trust to understand that NOW is not always the right time.

Love is not a feeling. Love is unconditional. Love is selfless. Love is a sacrifice. Love is more than the moment. Love is not about you. Love is a choice. Love is a verb. Love is not making out in the hallway. (And it never will be, so if you are one of those couples, please cease making the rest of us vomit.) Love is a commitment. Love takes time. Love is not always easy, or happy, or understandable. Love is not talking on the phone for hours. Love is not getting flowers. Love is not poetry. Love is not a song, a dance, or a conversation. Love is not a picnic lunch or a perfect evening out on the town. Love is important. Love is painful. Love is a risk. Love is trust. Love is exciting but not in the way you might guess. Love is from God because God is love. And, oh yeah, love never fails.

Love is rarely found in the movies, but I am shocked as to how many people (maybe I am speaking more to girls here) go searching for it there. The REAL thing--love, that is--is so much better than the movies, but it isn’t so easy. Yet, I wonder how many of us spend our time hoping for the surface type of love that we clap for in the movies. We keep waiting for the beautiful guy to come in and miraculously fall in love with our charm. We keep waiting for him to say the right thing, as if he were working from a script. We wait for the flowers, the duet in the bar, the feeling to be just right, the good girl to win…always. We wait for fiction to become reality. Even if we don’t admit it, we do.

In the meantime, as we are growing up and trying to figure out who we are, we play a game of catch with our hearts. We make decisions that have lasting consequences and then blame someone else when we have to deal with the burdens of our own decisions. We get trapped when we think we are gaining freedom. When I was fifteen, I wanted to be Pudge. I didn’t know who she was, really, but I knew that she ended up with Chip. It took me a long time to realize that true love is rarely written in the movies; reality doesn’t seem to sell as many tickets. We are made to love. ‘Tis true. But, maybe our definition of what love is shouldn’t come from Hollywood. It is a dangerous place to invest your dreams.

The storybook ending rarely comes true. Neither does the beginning.
Sex has consequences. HUGE consequences. (And I am not talking about babies or STDs alone.)
Guys’ eyes are rarely that blue.
Sometimes, there is no knight in shining armor who even cares.
Edward and Bella aren’t real.
Be careful what you do with your heart as you search for what is.

April 23, 2006

2009-04-01T22:05:00.003-05:00

I have great stories to write, but I am so tired. Writing is such work to me, and I feel the stress of it pile on top of my already-burdened shoulders before I even begin typing. Why is that? Why does it have to be so hard for me to do?

Tonight, after spending most of the day at school working on the literary magazine, I went up north to that lovely theater (I forget its name) to watch a movie. That's the short of it. Here's the long.

For some reason, today really took a toll on me. I was proofreading essays for most of the day, and my eyes ached as well as my neck and back when all was said and done. I got home around 5:30, and I had about an hour and a half before Dan and Carly were supposed to come. I ate dinner, fast-food AGAIN, and waited for their arrival by speeding through some DVR'd television. I have this giant jar of sourdough pretzels that I bought at Wal-Mart. They aren't really that good, to be honest. They are dry, but I eat them when I am grading or bored, and it gives me something to do. Well, tonight, right as Dan arrived, I decided that I was going to try dipping them in peanut butter to see if it was a good combo. I grabbed the peanut butter out of my cabinet, took the giant jug of pretzels, and we headed up to Carmel.

When I stuck the pretzel in the peanut butter, I noticed that the texture was a little off. It was a bit more like clay than the normal gooey peanut-buttery goodness I have come to love. Nevertheless, I stupidly persevered. When the pretzel hit my mouth, an explosion of rank went off in my mouth like nothing I have ever tasted. Literally, I didn't know what to do. I was eating toxic waste, and I felt like my mouth was twisting over itself. As I choked and whined with a mouth full of half-chewed pretzel, Carly and Dan laughed hysterically at my convulsions. Dan rolled down the window, so that I could spit out the food, but the weight of it was so dense, seemingly doubling with every second, making it nearly impossible for me to successfully spit it out of the car. I tried. Most of the chunks landed between my shoulder and the door; I removed them by hand. I am sure this gesture has resulted in numerous animal deaths since 7pm as they have unknowingly crawled across Meridian, excited to find some tasty nuggets along their way, only to be surprised by the metallic slices of wool and cardboard all wrapped up in a sulfuric bow hiding themselves as chewed pretzel and peanut-butter.

Dan gave me gum. I drank some bitter lemonade. I looked at the date on the peanut butter jar.

Sell by April 23, 2006.

Whoops.

(PS. There is more to this story because I really want to talk about the movie we saw, but I am super tired, and if I write more, I am afraid I will just ramble incoherently. Well, more so than normal.)

Spring Breakin' It

2009-03-29T19:13:00.002-05:00

Soooooooo, I was thinking about all that has to happen over this Spring Break in order for it to be deemed a productive and successful week. Here goes nothing...

1. Clean my apartment. (Clean bedroom? Check.)
2. Do my laundry. (I put it into bags to take to the laundromat today. There are nine of them.)
3. Clean my car.
4. Go through mail/pay bills/fill out forms for the bank.
5. Reserve two vans for the trip. Calculate mileage and cost.
6. Do my part for the completion of TIE--which means having everything finished as far as art files, IDEA poetry, the Our Story essays, and pics of the school.
7. Grade: IDEA writing prompts, IDEA novel projects, 9CP papers, 9CP writing prompts, 11CP novel papers.

Finishing this would be a miracle, but miracles happen everyday, right?

Rollin' Back Prices

2009-03-23T22:13:00.005-05:00

I was told I should write something.

I have been writing for This Island Earth, so I didn't want to unveil those golden tickets before May. Hmph.

Here is a little tidbit.

Tonight, I went to Borders and Wal-Mart. Now, you must understand that I basically slept for three days straight and felt too weak to walk from one room to the other, so the desire to go to the store made me feel alive. But, once I got to Wal-Mart, I had an insatiable desire to buy everything I saw.

I almost walked out of the store with:

A hula hoop.
A game called "In a Pickle" (or something like that).
A new bedspread.
One of those giant circle things that you use to blow giant bubbles.
A Frappuccino.
Some new shampoo.
Step Up: 2
PS. I Love You.
Uncle Buck.
and a "Team Edward" purse.

(That last one was a joke, but the rest were for real.)

Instead, I walked out with a giant plastic jar of pretzel bites, some kleenex, and two boxes of envelopes for the walk-a-thon.

Self-restraint, eh?

I thought so.

PS. Borders has changed its hours of operation to try to "make it over this economic hump" as the salesperson told me. They are opening an hour later and closing an hour earlier. For some reason, that made me really sad.

Happy V-Day!

2009-02-14T23:40:00.004-06:00

Tonight, in honor of Valentine's Day (and completely different than last week when we saw a cheesy chick-flick), Aubs, Carly, Anya, and I went to the movies to watch a cheesy chick-flick. When we got to the theater, it was PACKED. (Isn't going to the movies kind of a lame date for Valentine's? These were not all single women in line, I promise you.) Anyway, it was like we were standing in line for the Millennium Force. We decided to test our luck and stand in the credit card machine line, since it seemed much shorter. Boy, were we wrong. Who knew that pushing the little buttons on the computer screen could take people so much time? So, after eight hours of waiting, (slight exaggeration...slight) we are two away from the front of the line. At this point, Anya had already volunteered to buy all four tickets at once, and there was one couple in front of us.

It was a madhouse in the place, yes, but what I am about to tell you is not an exaggeration.

A young girl walks up past us and looks to be standing in line for the credit card machine. Anya cheerfully says, "This is the front of the line; it starts back there." (Christmas Story, anyone?) The girl whips her face toward Anya (She is standing behind Aubry; Carly and I are behind them.) and says with an attitude, "I know. (Imagine the head swivel.) I am using the credit card machine. Thank you."

Understandable, right? She thought the huge mass of people was one line, rather than two. The attitude was completely unnecessary, but it seemed to ooze out of her eyes naturally. Aubry thought it would be a good idea to explain the situation.

Aubry chimes in with a VERY polite tone, "There are two lines. This is the credit card machine line, and the other line is next to us." From the looks of the back of her head, I assume that Anya put a smile on her face at this point that had a slight tinge of "See? I told you" to it. I can imagine that there was a bit of smugness in her smirk. But, really, they were just trying to make sure everything was fair. No harm intended.

Girl: "If you look at me like that again, I will rip your f'in teeth out."

Aubry almost wet her pants. I started laughing hysterically.

Seriously? You wanna fight? Over the movie theater line? Winner gets the Mega-Bucket of popcorn.

February 14th is coming...

2009-02-08T22:24:00.003-06:00

What shall I do to honor the day of love this week?

Hmmm...

Maybe I will write an ode.
Maybe I will kiss a toad.
Maybe I will dance a jig.
Maybe I will buy a wig.
Maybe I will eat some candy.
Maybe I will find Jim Dandy.
Maybe I will moan and whine.
Maybe I will waste some time.
Maybe I will give a speech.
Maybe I will grill a peach.
Maybe I will throw a kiss.
Maybe I will pick up sticks.
Maybe I will hold a hand.
Maybe I will join a band.
Maybe I will never know
until I learn to let love go.

(Spontaneous poem production. You read it first.)

2009-01-12T20:08:00.004-06:00

I am currently sitting in the "business office" at the Hilton Garden Inn at Riverside. Long Island is lovely, really. There is this weird juxtaposition of being right by the ocean and the bay and pretty close to Manhattan. I don't know. Each house has a personality, and there is still a good deal of farmland.

I have been here since Thursday for Nana's funeral.

That was a shock.

I can't really describe the gammut of emotions that I have felt over the past two weeks. A lot has happened in a very short amount of time, and it is hard for me to comprehend. The reality of Nana's death hasn't truly sunk in yet. I have said my goodbyes, but the day-to-day reality of it hasn't even begun, I don't think, especially for my mom.

It is so strange. Over the past five years, as Nana has slowly shed the skin of her younger, more elegant self, I have reached the excesses of my patience, and I have tasted true anger, pity, sorrow, and helplessness. This was not easy, but it became my life. She became my life to some degree. And, a week and a half ago (is that all?), when she fell, I am not sure I could have been more angry at the world. I feel ashamed now for that, but that will pass. Oops. I digressed. Considering all of the complications, her death was actually quite simple. She drifted off to eternal rest quite peacefully with my mom by her side. Her struggle only lasted a few hours.

All this weekend, I have heard stories from my extensive extended family about the "Aunt Lee" they knew. She was full of life and elegance and grace and style and glamour. I didn't want to spoil their vision. Toward the end, it was hard for her to get out of her robe each day, and I guess God knew that her struggle need not last any longer. We didn't have to see her lose her mind entirely, and we got to eat at Bonefish two nights in a row, where she got decked out, fur coat and all. I got to cook Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners for her, and she had the chance to see Andrew dance one last time. Three weeks ago, she saw her sister and her entire family at a wedding, and although it was tough, I believe that was even a greater gift for them.

She was special.

Each part of this weekend, the viewing, the funeral service, the meals together, the flowers, the kind words...everything was so special. Everything had a beauty to it that I could not deny. I cried fewer tears than my family, and for the most part, I smiled knowing that Nana is enjoying heaven, knowing that Nana enjoyed life.

2009-01-07T16:03:00.001-06:00

There is something truly comforting about eating elbow macaroni with only a little butter.

My Apologies

2009-01-04T11:20:00.001-06:00

That last post was a little outlandish. I mean, it was true, but I don't think I needed to post it. :)

2008-12-28T02:11:00.003-06:00

Faithful readers! (Tumbleweeds stretch across the horizon, and an echo comes back to me...reader, reader, reader...)

I want YOU to tell me what to write about next. I have far too many ideas, so I just sit and stare at the computer.

Movies that have defined my life
My take on love stories
Why I am in love with storytelling
my favorite childhood memories
the death of life (in the form of my grandmother)
my experience with w131
my most embarassing moments
your pick?

16...22...

2008-12-23T00:23:00.006-06:00

This is the first night in a long time that I have had completely to myself, and I must admit that it is pretty fabulous. I edited some pictures, ate some leftover pizza, went to Borders, watched a movie, and now, at 1:24 in the morning, I thought it a good time to write that blog I have been meaning to write.

You see, (you being the four people who read this) I have this incredible addiction to surveys. I have loved filling them out since college, and last year, when I received one in my email, I was so pleased to get it going with my group of friends. For a few days, it seemed that nearly everyone was drifting back to 1999, and I actually learned quite a few tidbits of insight, which I really quite enjoy. So, when this "16-Things" survey started circulating around Facebook, I got nervous. If I did this honestly, I didn't want it to be a Facebook message. If I didn't do it honestly, then what would be the point in doing it? I think that we all desire connection with others, and I think there is something to be said for learning more about a person as you invest time in a friendship. It is easy to get stagnant. It is easy to watch movies and depend on memories. I think little surveys, however cliche or stupid they may be, actually help jump-start renewed interest in getting to know each other.

Or wait, maybe they are just a way for people to waste time while supposedly studying for finals. Does anyone else think about this stuff? Seriously, I have been tormented about what I would choose to tell the world (the four of you) that would reveal a little about who I am. I don't talk to people like I used to, so here is my chance. This will certainly not be funny enough. I will also repeat words, which will annoy me.

1. I actually don't think it is necessarily right, but I think I value humor and intelligence above most qualities. And integrity. It is often a goal of mine (sub-conscious until I think it over) to create something that makes people laugh. I want to be around people who make me laugh, make me think, and tell it to me straight. Is there better company than that?

2. I am fascinated by the way people work in community with each other. I am fascinated by the workings of the brain as well. I don't care so much about the biological side of life; I am tremendously intrigued by the psychological and sociological aspects of human interactions. I feel that if I ever choose to pursue a higher degree, it will have to be in one of these sciences. (However, I fear research, so I doubt it will ever happen.)

3. I have so many passions, and I have so many goals. There is much I want to accomplish in my life, but I often feel that I choose to get on Facebook or watch the Food Network. I get tired thinking about all that I want to do, but I still want to do it. I just don't want to let anyone down in the process, especially myself.

4. Major goal: write a book. This past summer, I decided that my book would be about "America." I want to travel across the United States during one summer and document life through pictures and interviews. I know it is has been done, so I don't know how to spin it to make it publishable, but I think it would be amazing. AMAZING.

5. Whenever I am in the middle of grading a lot of papers, I get really fidgety. I can't sit in one place for more than thirty minutes at a time, and I have to have something else distracting me, or I start to feel really nervous. (This is gross, just warning you...) Often, my already-disgusting feet get ravished during grading. If I have nothing else to do, I rip skin off of my feet to keep my hands busy. It is disgusting.

6. Speaking of disgusting, I am consumed with being overweight. I think about my weight no less than twenty-five times a day (probably a lot more), and I hate looking in the mirror or seeing myself in pictures. What is strange is that I don't want to be vain, and I also don't want to be fat. Yet, I really don't want to discipline my life in order to change that. I am consumed and trapped at the same time. Really, though, I pull the lid over my head and hold on tightly. No matter, I hate the way I look; I hate that I hate the way I look; I hate that the way we look matters so much, and I hate that I don't do anything about it. And I hate that I feel that I should. But don't. You get the cycle. It is monstrous.

7. Sometimes, I feel paralyzed by all that I wish I could do but can't. I have never once thought, "Geesh, I wish I could be a better skateboarder," or "Well, golly, I am dying because I can't fly a plane." BUT, I wish I could write in a way that made Matt and Eric happy. I wish I could drip words onto a page that made people gasp, rather than merely express some personal thoughts with correct grammar. My favorite authors have basically been a few students and Donald Miller because their writing makes me feel, makes me connect. I want to create writing like that and fear that I never will. I talk about it a lot, but I think it bothers me more than almost anything else. And, I wish I could play sports like Drew, an unlimited amount of fearlessness and athleticism that would afford me the right to compete in basically anything I tried. There are more, but the more I think of all that I can't do, the less thankful I am for what I can.

8. I have the best job in the world. Hands down. I am extraordinarily blessed.

9. I vacillate between a complete sense of calm and a complete sense of despondency when it comes to my life as a single woman. As I get older, there are many days when I can't imagine being married (to anything other than school), and I feel like I am exactly where I need to be, and there are other days when I know how much I would love knowing someone completely (as humanly possible). Part of me thinks I will never get married, which would be fine. Part of me wonders why in the world God would make me so relationally programmed if I were not going to end up in the ultimate human relationship one day.

10. Similar to 9, I honestly don't know if I want to have children. It isn't going to happen without a husband, obviously, but the concept of being a mother is hard for me to imagine. It wasn't always that way.

11. I really like cleanliness, but I am terribly bad at maintaining such a state in my classroom, my car, and my apartment. I HATE the following chores: doing the dishes, laundry, organizing papers, and above all, raking. :) (I know it doesn't belong, but I had to put it on there.)

12. I haven't been to the doctor, other than when I broke my foot, in about five years. Up until last week when I cracked my tooth, it was longer for the dentist. I have some of the best health insurance around, but I fail to make appointments for stuff like that. I have so many responsibilities that include other people depending on me; medical duties for myself always get pushed aside. (So do the above chores, actually.) This is yet another aspect of my personality that is annoying to me; yet, I do nothing about it.

13. I love sitting in a dark room when a Christmas tree is lit. When I was little, I would scoot up to the tree, lay down on my back, and put my head under the base of the tree. I loved looking at the twinkling lights from that perspective in the silence of a winter evening. Christmas trees calm me, and I always HATE unplugging them.

14. Although I LOVE watching live theater, whenever I do so, I inevitably feel a bit melancholy. In the same way that I get a strange longing for college when I am on college campuses, I always dream of being on stage whenever I see a play. In the same way that I dream of writing a book, I have no justifiable reason for such a wish. I have seen limited audiences from the viewpoint of a character, and I have received no encouragement that I could ever be successful in writing; yet, I feel both are an intrinsic part of who I am, a part that has yet to be fully discovered.

15. My dad is an alcoholic. He chose alcohol over staying with his family. Although I am actually grateful that my parents got divorced, I think this truth about my life has defined way more of who I am than I even realize. And, I also think I have spent much of my life running away from that fact.

16. I want to learn how to ballroom dance SO MUCH.

17. I don't know how to put on eyeshadow, and I am jealous of those who do.

18. I am thinking about getting a perm (body wave kind of thing). I was inspired by Sarah's hair at the Christmas party. Aubry, would this be a terrible idea?

19. I really hate it when people use symbols and numbers in place of letters to create words about themselves. I don't understand why people can't just use the words? It makes them look less intelligent, and that bothers me that it doesn't bother them.

20. If there is any kind of snack mix or pita chip in my vicinity, I will devour the entire bag before the night is through.

21. Peppermint hot chocolate from Borders makes life just a little better.

22. I am utterly afraid of getting older. Yet, my fascination for life grows as I live longer and longer. I guess I am stuck in a paradox of sorts. I love and hate that.

Lists Yet to be Written

2008-12-07T15:52:00.001-06:00

1. Top Ten Movies that have defined my life.
2. Top Ten Moments " " " " ".
3. Ten Things You May Not Know About Me.
4. The Ten Fears of My Life.
5. Top Ten Lessons I Have Learned as a Teacher.

More? Who knows? These shall come.

2008-12-06T00:16:00.002-06:00

I am insanely judgmental of people who are judgmental.
I get annoyed at those who talk about others being annoying.
I rarely laugh at people who want people to laugh at them.
Gossip makes me uncomfortable.
I am bothered by drinkers who constantly talk about drinking.
Or druggies (is that from fourth grade?) who constantly talk about drugs.
I stare down my nose at those who claim to be better.
I will talk your ear off and then complain about those who ramble.

People are my greatest fascination, but geesh, I am a walking contradiction.

(This didn't really make sense. I am sleepy.)

"Psalm of Life"

2008-11-05T16:27:00.003-06:00

As I "grow up," I am becoming more and more aware of what I value and respect and who I aspire to be. Since I am a teacher, you might not be surprised to know that I love people who love to think. I love students who want to soak in knowledge. I love students who take the time to filter through the rocks and dirt and come out on the other side with diamonds. A love of learning and a willingness to teach others are two qualities I greatly admire.

When this school year started, I realized something very fast. My two junior classes (B4 and S4) are collectively the best two junior classes I have taught. (Former students, please do not get mad at me...) From early on, I sensed an eagerness to participate, an appreciation of humor, and a legitimate interest in the material, at least more often than usual. I have caught myself bragging about my juniors quite a few times this year, and I am afraid of losing the sense of camaraderie that resides in both classes when the semester ends. Amidst the new faces I have met are some faces that I knew as freshmen. I thought I would not like having students at different stages of the game, but I now know that there is a joy that is attached to seeing a student grow up, to see him understand his own identity more clearly and often to see that student care about learning and success in a sincere and different way. Throughout this year, that joy has not been more abundant than when attached to thoughts of Thomas Imel.

Thomas was an average student as a freshman, seemingly smart enough to get by, but never putting forth more effort than necessary. He was inquisitive, but he was fairly sedate in class, so I never quite knew what was going on inside his head. Maybe I always unfairly assumed he didn't care too much about English, but my impression was that he wasn't living up to his potential.

When he walked into my room again as a junior, I expected the same. Nice kid. Has a sense of humor. Won't cause trouble. Will probably get a B or a B-.

I was wrong.

All year, Thomas did his work, and he did it well. All year, Thomas asked me questions that reflected deep thought on his part, and his ability to question and think became a welcome challenge to me and to the rest of the class. All year, Thomas voiced his opinions when he felt it necessary, but no matter if he was speaking, he was always there--always with me. Somehow, in a class of booming personalities, Thomas became a quiet leader. Without ever advertising for it, people started to look to him to offer his intelligent view on any particular subject. And yes, when the time was right, he certainly wasn't afraid to argue with Alex.

And when progress reports rolled around, and I got to tell Thomas that he had an A (I didn't tell him that he had the highest grade in the class), I asked him a simple question. "So, when did you decide that you were gonna start working?" His reply,"I work at something when it matters."

I didn't tell him, but that was the best complement I have received all year.

Actually, I didn't tell him any of this. I didn't tell him how much joy it gave me that he was working so hard. I didn't let him know that I was proud of him for becoming a student who I truly respect and admire. I didn't let him know that I thought his future was bound to be something special if he chose to embrace who I thought he could be. Really, all of these thoughts have crossed my mind over the last three months, but I never voiced them.

And now, as you may know, my opportunity is gone.

Last week, Thomas was in a serious car accident, and he has been struggling for his life ever since. Today, his struggle ceased. It is actually hard for me to write it, but today, Thomas died.

Again, we must learn how to cope with one of the toughest truths of life: death. Again, we must seek solace in our faith, in our friends and family, and in the hope that no matter how deep the pain sinks, joy will somehow surface again. Again, we must learn the sobering truth that we are only promised this moment, just this one, and how dare we take it for granted.

These lessons don't get easier. I am not an expert on dealing with death. I do know that I am here if you need to talk. I do know that moving on isn't an injustice, but it rarely happens overnight. Healing is a process as is grieving, and there is no rule book to help us do it faster or more easily or with fewer tears. I do know that life continues, and we all handle these times in different ways. It's okay. I stand before you (figuratively?) as a bumbling idiot, who doesn't really know what to think or feel or say, so, I will admit my inadequacy and do what I can to help. I do know that my best gift might be to give my students the sense of normalcy that we so crave in times like these. It is okay to smile in the midst of confusion and suffering, and so, laughter I will seek to share.

I challenge you to listen to his words. I challenge you to "work at what matters." I challenge you to challenge yourselves in all areas of your life. Dare to think. Dare to succeed. To tell people when they amaze you. To ask questions. To forgive. Dare to love. We waste so much of our lives worrying and whining and wasting, and it should not take a young person's death to make us realize that. Since I never spoke these words of encouragement to Thomas before he died, I couldn't function until I knew someone would hear them. My silence will be my own struggle, and God-willing, I won't make that mistake again. Thomas left an impact on my life in a way that I would not have expected. His death only makes what he meant to me in life more clear.

...Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime,
And, departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time ;

Footprints, that perhaps another,
Sailing o'er life's solemn main,
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,
Seeing, shall take heart again.

2008-10-04T15:00:00.007-05:00

There is something very special about fall in Indiana.

It is almost a presence unto itself. Crisp. Cool. Blue. Gold. Rust. Orange. Fresh.

It incites memories of smiles and sweaty foreheads, pumpkin carving and the crackle of bonfires.

I don't have the talent or the words to express how it makes me feel, but I do know I love this time of the year.

Super Sweet 16 Ain't So Super

2008-09-17T18:32:00.000-05:00

Two weeks ago, I was sitting in the lounge of my apartment complex waiting for my mom to finish with a client so that we could eat lunch. There was a television in the corner of the room, and as I was sitting there, I watched in horror as an advertisement played for an upcoming show.

Let me give you a little taste from the website:

"Watching My Super Sweet 16 can give us a glimpse of "the good life." Amidst the demanding divas and epic meltdowns that lead up to insanely over-the-top teenage birthday bashes, we get a look at the posh lives of wealthy families. And while we take that often envious look at how the other half lives, how many of us sit there wishing that these spoiled teens could be slapped with a serious dose of reality?

Wish no more, because they're about to get Exiled! Fed up with their seemingly endless mooching, their parents have had enough of this Sweet 16 set and are ready to send them away to learn the lesson of a lifetime. They've arranged to place their children in remote parts of the world with host families who have never tasted anything close to the high society life...shipped away from their plush homes and easy lives and Exiled to foreign locations such as the jungles of the Amazon, the tundra of the Arctic Circle, the Andes mountains and remote islands in the South Pacific where they'll have to live like local commoners with none of the amenities of their normally privileged lives."

I sat stunned for so many reasons. First of all, I knew why people would watch a show like this, but that didn't make me any less angry. It's just so funny, they will say. Does satire have to be on purpose to be satire? Is MTV a modern-day Twain? I hope so, but somehow, I doubt it. The one time I turned on the television and watched My Super Sweet 16 for a few minutes was possibly a low point in my life. I almost threw a shoe at my tv. This was worse. Take those same people and unleash them on underdeveloped and remote areas with a crew of cameras and a bad attitude and "make quality television." What did the people of Kenya ever do to deserve such a fate? Yes, there is a remote possibility that the sweet sixteen-ers could learn something and be the better for it. I honestly hope that happens. But that wouldn't make very good television. Rather, I am sure there will be exploitation of stupidity, unreasonable expectations, ungratefulness, and an excess of crying over nothing. Needless to say, I was angry. I am angry.

When I say that the world hates America because of MTV, I don't really mean it. I mean that MTV seems to put on display all that I deem wrong with America. It isn't that the media has distorted the reality of who we are. Heck, I don't even know if other countries even hate us. I don't even know if it is possible to have a national identity, but we do, don't we? I do know, though, that there are times when I want to turn a giant mirror on the United States and beg for people to pay attention, not to see if their pores are visible but rather to take a moment and look at who we seem to be, who we are.

I am not pointing fingers (well, I am...a little) at everyone else in America. I am despicable in my own way, so don't hear only passing judgment. I am not the close-minded naysayer who thinks that all of America is tumbling into hell and there's nothing that can be done about it. There are so many beautiful people who try to improve the quality of life for others all the time. I just wonder sometimes if people realize how petty and selfish and spoiled and cruel and repulsive we can be...appear to be...are.

The tone of parts of American culture freaks me out. I don't have Potter's word list to know what best way to describe this tone, but I know I don't like it. I don't like it that on the whole, my students don't value what is not entertaining. I don't like it that I have been allowed to skate through much of life on the gifts I have been given, rather than on the sweat and tears of my fight to achieve. And, to be honest, I probably have more fight in me than many I know. I don't like it that family is sadly growing into one of life's appointments, rather than being one of its foundations. I don't like that we make superheroes out of spoiled, unmotivated rich kids and create countless shows to show the "world" just how well we can carelessly waste money. I don't like it that we have to shock to be heard. I don't like it that I sat behind a school bus today and watched someone throw trash out the window, as if that were no big deal. I don't like it that so many people seem to drift through the days, rather than make them matter, depending on quick fixes and identity adjustments rather than on people and conversations and learning and God. I don't like it that kindness is an exception rather than the rule. I don't like negligence. Defiance. Ignorance. I could go on.

So, when I say that MTV is the moral compass by which Americans can chart their demise, I don't mean that exactly. I guess it is my way of simplifying the fact that the moral compass of America is seemingly broken. MTV just provides a mapquest view.

Good thing I always have the choice to turn off the television.
Or, better yet, help to change the station.

2008-09-13T14:42:00.003-05:00

When my mom had her heart attack, I didn't cry. I might have shed a few tears along the way, when I thought about the enormity of what had happened, but overall, I handled the situation with ease. Even as she was being whisked out of the doctor's office and to the hospital, I remained calm. I just kept thinking...she will be fine.

How would I have handled it if she didn't make it?

Would I have brushed it aside with a thought about how she was in a better place? Would I have turned numb? Would I have crumbled under the pressure? Would I have gotten angry?

I cried when Dumbledore died.

What kind of twisted mind must I have? I didn't cry when my mom almost died, but I often cry because of fictional characters.

I was told a long time ago that I should never apologize for the blessings in my life. I should simply use them for the glory of God. I wrote awhile back that I don't handle loss well, but I was speaking entirely on a selfish and personal level. I don't like losing. I actually wasn't talking about losing people. What would I become if my life's tragedies were actually tragic? I am already a selfish and prideful person. How would I handle it if my mom's heart attack became death? If my leak became a flood?

You can't prepare yourself for moments like those. We all have the "it won't happen to me" mindset or we would perpetually live in fear, but what if I have swung so far in the "what's meant to be will be" mindset that I have lost a bit of my humanity? Of my empathy?

Perry Meridian lost a student late last night. I didn't know this student well, but I know his mom. She is one of my mom's dearest friends. When I found out what happened, I didn't know how to react, but my instincts rose from the depths of my gut.

Pretend it's all fine. Move on. Live.

I am masterful at compartmentalizing. At times I wear my heart on my sleeves, but for the most part, I am where I am. I am not hiding anything when I laugh with people and then go home to a grandmother who is slowly losing her mind. I am not hiding the truth when I am excited for my students to watch my play just hours after sitting with my mom as she tried to figure out how to help her friend in need. Somehow, I am built for moving on.

I can't even imagine the pain that Sonja must feel right now. I can't fathom what it would be like to lose a child. I don't know how she will breathe. I don't know how she will be able to let her daughter keep living when there is so much risk around every corner. I can't understand the debilitating pain.

I am so scared of the day when I might have to face that.
I am more scared that I might breathe just fine, no struggle at all. Somehow, that seems worse to me.

Famous First Words

2008-08-24T11:29:00.002-05:00

I really want to be better at blogging. I often think about SO MUCH during the day that I think I will internally combust if I don't get my thoughts out, but somehow, when I sit down at the computer, I never know how to say what I want to say. It always ends up sounding so trite. Maybe I think too much about "sounding right" when I should think about saying something. I don't know. It is a fine line. There are so many topics I want to discuss, but it would help so much to know who reads my words. I tend to work better when I know I have an audience. Is that vain?

So, for now, I will try on my famous first words. Here are a few of the blogs I have thought about writing. Maybe if I get started, someday, I will finish.

I have a slight obsession with iced coffee.
Watching my grandmother lose her mind makes me dread getting old in a fiercely fearful way.
Did anyone else hate it when girls wore cute clothes and make-up to class in college?
In all my years of being girly (as girly as I could ever be), I don't remember placing "intelligence" extremely high on my list of ideal traits for the man I would marry. That has changed.
Singing in the car brings me great joy.
I really wish that I got to ride a rollercoaster and zoom down a waterslide this summer.
I believe that this year will test my character more than any year I have lived thus far.
Why do so many hate America? MTV.
Not everyone thinks like I do. Really?
Let me tell you about ground turkey.
I really love winning.

Mistaken

2008-08-03T11:38:00.001-05:00

So, I wasn't lying before, but today, I don't feel much like a Queen. Of anything.

Filling in the Gaps

2008-07-28T14:15:00.004-05:00

My mom had a heart attack two months ago. And that, as they say, changed everything.

Almost.

When I was five, I broke my arm. It was a pretty bad break, and it happened at the beginning of the summer. Two cracked bones. Huge cast. No swimming for the entirety of vacation. Baths with a plastic bag and my arm hanging over the edge of the tub. I headed into first grade with a smaller cast. When I got it taken off finally, my arm was pale and skinny, but otherwise, it healed marvelously. I had heard that bones often grow back stronger than they were to start, and I don't have Dr. Lantz here to confirm that, but I remember believing it when my family went to visit friends for a cookout. Until that point, my dad would always want me to shuck the corn on the cob, but he always made fun of me for how long it took because I wasn't strong enough to take much of the husk off at one time. After my arm healed, I was given the job again, and it was like I was the queen of shucking. I immediately attributed it to the fact that indeed my arm had grown back stronger.

Our physical hearts are not like that, but I think our spirits are.

Let's just say that after an extended period of time spent moping and trying to figure out what my life has become, I have decided to be stronger and better. Enter Jacqui--the new Queen of shucking the suck out of life. Poetic, eh?

This summer has been a slow blur. I don't really know what I did. I don't have as many individual memories, and I have no stories of trips or camp to share. I spent a lot of time in front of the computer, and I read a lot. I spent a lot of time thinking, and I have probably been to the grocery store 37 times. I have become a better cook. I have learned to do the dishes right after I use them and not complain. I have looked forward to Monday movie nights and Tuesday frisbee games. I have removed red meat and dairy and salt from my diet, except for all the times when I sneak away to eat ice cream with friends. I got in a wreck. I got a new car. I said goodbye to Sarah. For a week, I tried getting a tan. I've taken naps and watched a lot of Bravo, Food Network, and HGTV. I finished graduate school. I guess I do know. I have seen a lot of rain, and I have felt a lot of sunshine.

In the past few weeks, since finishing grad school, I have realized that there is no time like now for doing what you always wanted to do. It is like mom's brush with death painted me a new color. I don't think anyone would call me boring or passive, but I needed to dig deep in order to wake up. All of a sudden, there is so much more that I want. There is so much that I want to enjoy. I think it is okay that for the first time in my career I am not ready to go back to school. It isn't because I won't love it once I am there, but all of a sudden, I remembered that I am more than a teacher.

I am an actress...my first play rehearsal is tomorrow.

I am a designer...I have spent the past two weeks cleaning, organizing, and re-designing my apartment.

I am a chef...what if I want to enter cooking contests and make gourmet meals for my friends?

I am an artist...my photography business is almost up and running.

I am a friend...sharing laughs while driving to DQ and getting excited for lounging on the couch for Wednesday night TV are precious moments that I should not take for granted.

I am a daughter...I have to put my family first now, and that is finally okay with me.

I am a child of God...this one feels like a shoe that doesn't fit right now, and I think my understanding of neglect is getting in the way of my understanding of grace.

I guess that in my seemingly blank summer, I filled in the gaps. As in, had plans gone my way, I don't think I would have given myself enough time to slow down enough to be anyone new. I wish that my mom was 100% fine. I wish that she had the life she has always dreamed of, but in the midst of her heartache and our family's adjustments, I guess I feel like I am on my way to having mine.

Interim

2008-07-03T00:13:00.003-05:00

So, basically all I do is think these days, but I can't seem to translate from brain to paper.

Instead, let me tell you about a few goals I hope to accomplish before I die. (These are new.)

1. I want to have a photo studio in my house. I want to take people's portraits...for real.

2. I want to travel across the United States and publish a book about my travels that tells the stories of America mostly through pictures with a little narration. This traveling will take place during one summer. I have always dreamed of publishing a book. I am almost convinced this one will be the one that gets me there.

There you go.

They say...when it rains, it pours.

2008-06-09T11:40:00.004-05:00

After this week, when my mom is home and my grad school electives are finished, I will write all that I have been thinking...which should fill a couple books. For now, I will let images speak for themselves.

You should read this.

2008-05-26T18:20:00.002-05:00

When I don't have words that adequately suffice, Dana has them. Her post is not about me in any way at all, but it is. That's what is supernaturally strange about us, I guess. :)

http://danarambleson.blogspot.com/

Oh my...

2008-05-20T19:40:00.000-05:00

Exhale.

(That is going to take a few weeks.)

Good.

2008-05-10T20:24:00.006-05:00

So, I will write about today eventually, but I am still a little sleepy and sore to do so. I have noticed that we use words so often that they become cliche or meaningless, so you need to understand that when I say what I am about to say, I really mean it. I mean it in every sense of the word. Good...what is right, what is pure, what is admirable, what is fun, what is just plain amazing.

Today was a good day.

I'd Rather Today.

2008-04-30T20:27:00.003-05:00

Today was so hectic.

And great.

At one point in the day, I was freaking out about something I had forgotten about, and a teacher said, "You have to give some of your stuff up." Another teacher overheard and said, "She can't."

I chuckled. And then I thought...teacher #2 is correct. Giving up NHS won't be hard; I think I gave it up a long time ago, but all the rest...it all means so much to me. I have been warned numerous times that I will burn out. I have been told not to give my life to the school. When I am absolutely consumed by the extras and I can't grade, I wonder if I am doing too much to the disadvantage of my students. Am I being unfair to those who are actually in my classes?

I might be a bit melodramatic. That side of me comes out when I am under a lot of stress and have had little sleep. (For instance, right now, the clock is ticking on my research paper...it is due in two and a half hours. I am writing this instead. I am an idiot.) No matter...I guess I just came to the conclusion that my job is to teach English, but my passion is to enhance the lives of my students. Now, don't get me wrong. I try to do that in my English classes as well, but things like Schools for Schools and Mini-O and Creative Writing Club and FCA are bigger than English. They are bigger than me. I like it that way.

Today was probably my favorite Mini-O yet.

Even though some haven't learned that being creative and goofy is much more fun than...well...dressing like a prostitute...for everyone involved, or that no one likes overt egotism, the day was simply grand. (Note to people with issues: It is fun to win. Enjoy it. Don't shove it down people's throats.) Anyway, all 18 teams were on time and ready to go. (Miracle.) Many teams really worked hard and had great costumes. We're on the upswing of Mini-O; I can feel it. Underclassmen have goals. Seniors getting excited about playing dress-up for a day means everything to next year's seniors and so on and so on; excitement is contagious. After school, thanks to great teacher volunteers and teams that actually listened, the Olympics ran like clockwork. I got to enjoy it. It seems like everyone did. People cheered and fell and clapped and ran and slid and pulled and tugged and weirdly hugged each other (I HATE that tennis ball relay)...and they had fun. I know it.

I LOVE watching people play. We are so often concerned with growing up and being mature that we forget what it is like to have fun like children. As we grow, fun often gets attached to getting drunk or sitting around and relaxing, and we forget how to play games. We forget how awesome recess was. We forget that creativity and teamwork and silly games can create memories that last. I am not trying to make the Mini-Olympics more important than they are. It is, in reality, just one tiny day in a lifetime of days. But I want people to hold onto the feeling of running around in the sun cheering and clapping and slipping and sliding and tugging and hugging, you know?

Don't be afraid to have costume parties when you are 27 and 87. Don't forget that relay races never go out of style. Really, I mean it. It is almost poetic to watch students about to graduate running around like fifth graders. It feels right.

And so, when someone tells me that I should give it up, I imagine I would end up feeling wrong. I'd rather today.

Goodness, I want to ballroom dance.

2008-04-28T21:07:00.003-05:00

There are a lot of things I should be doing right now, but I just got to thinking.

We have a lot of cliches to describe "moments." We have "the calm before the storm," the "blink of an eye," the "life flashing before our eyes," etc. Each of my days is packed. When I get into my car at the end of the day, I usually exhale quite loudly. I know that I must go home and tackle Part II, but Part I usually feels like warp speed. Seriously, my days FLY. My nights do too, but most of the time, no one is coming to me with questions or forms or stories or complaints, etc. I am "on stage" for a good portion of every day, hoping I don't miss my lines or stumble into an entrance too late. Night brings sleepy eyes and so many distractions. It brings thoughts about what to do tomorrow, and it brings thoughts of what I didn't accomplish today. But, once in a while, when I am really lucky, I can rewind and see those moments that mattered.

It is as if I am in a constant state of fast-forward, but ever so often, the DVD slows almost to a pause...the screen shifts...the colors get bolder...and then, just as quickly as it slowed, fast-forward resumes. So, when I look back on my days, all combined, it is easy to miss the movie. It is easy to forget the dialogue, to lack conviction and passion, to get to one part without having understand the scene before. I cherish the slow. Goodness, I have to remember to breathe. A pocket-sized Deep Space. A laugh shared amongst freshmen in Blue 4. Nineteen seniors excited about their own Mini-O, their only Mini-O. Being there for my mother in the midst of hell. Ballroom dancing through my apartment with no one leading.

Slow down.

I can't stand fast-forward anymore.

Hmmm...

2008-04-22T20:40:00.002-05:00

If I didn't teach classes...I could probably conquer the next four weeks without a nervous breakdown.

Considering the fact that I do, I think avoiding an eventual loss of sanity is an impossibility at this point.

Just a Scratch

2008-04-14T19:01:00.004-05:00

I promised I would write about NKOTB. I really want to do that, but after forty minutes of saving pictures for that very occasion, I ran out of juice and don't have the brainpower to do anything creative or witty.
So, instead, I will do what I always do. Make THE LIST. You know what I mean...what I have to do until the end of the year. This one is exciting. I will put it in parts.

FCA

New Officers
Ultimate Frisbee Tourney
Remaining Meetings
Cook-out?

Schools for Schools

The Walk-a-Thon…the fact that this only gets one line is humorous.

Creative Writing Club

Deep Space goes to the printers on Friday. OH MY GOODNESS there is a lot to do by then...DONE
Then, when we get it back, we have to distribute.
Spring Fling Celebration
Staff Applications and Decisions for next year

Mini-Olympics

Ummm...run it.

The IDEA Reunion

Ummm...plan it.

Graduate School

The amount of work I have to do for this is UNCANNY, and the majority of the hardest stuff will fall during the last two weeks of school. Oh good. There is so much to do that I don't even want to bother listing it all here. Basically, as things are going, I will devote two nights a week to my studies to ensure the maintaining of my fairly decent GPA.

Oh yea! I teach!
11CP

Novel papers...umm...when did those get turned in?
Grade One-Pagers...DONE
Create Modernism Test/Grade it...Halfway Done
Create rubric for group teaching unit/grade analysis essays as well as group performance
Administer and grade writing prompts
Alter/grade finals
Grade final assignment

9CP

Grade R&J projects...DONE
Grade R&J tests...Half-way DONE
I JUST DECIDED RIGHT NOW...CANCEL R&J character analysis...I can't grade them!
Begin Science-Fiction Unit--re-work it...create homework assignments...etc.
Science-Fiction Unit Assignment? Create it...grade it...
Grammar stuffs?
Administer and grade writing prompts
Grade final assignment
Grade finals

9HGT

Finish grading research papers
Grade book projects...DONE
Grade/create the rest of the vocabulary quizzes and test...Half-way DONE
Put together all new class-chosen project...and run it for the school...OH GEESH.
Put together new literary analysis assignments/grade these
Grammar stuffs
Grade final assignment
Grade finals

Is that all? I feel like I am missing stuff...but this is good for me to get out of my head and onto...paper. Anything else?

"I can do everything through him who gives me strength." Philippians 4:13

May God be glorified GREATLY in the next six weeks.

Speaking of Tours

2008-04-08T22:20:00.002-05:00

Here's a hint:

More to come tomorrow, I promise.

Let me Take You on a Tour

2008-04-07T19:45:00.003-05:00

Let me see if I get can get you to understand without sounding like a whiny baby, which is what I usually feel like.

So, until a few days ago, this was what my room had become. I know that many who read this (I only know one person who reads this for sure, but I will keep writing...) might not think this is a big deal, but you need to understand. I used to clean my apartment every week. When I lived with Adri, the messiness of Caleb nearly drove me over the edge. He was never this messy. But, somehow, I have gotten further and and further away from me. I just started letting this go, something that I could have actually easily controlled, because I just had too much else to do. Did I really? I don't know, but somehow, when I wasn't doing stuff that mattered, I certainly didn't want to be cleaning.

But, finally, last week, I decided that enough was enough. I had to go back.

I still have so much to do, but this was like climbing Mt. Everest for me. At midnight last Monday, I was busy organizing shelves in the kitchen. At 1am, I decided that it might not be wise to vacuum, only after finishing the dining room. Seriously, a weight lifted from my shoulders (even though I have yet to conquer the bathroom or finish the "den"), and I felt more whole than I had felt in a long time.

And, I wonder...why would cleaning ever make me feel so good? It lends me to believe that absolutely everything is spiritual, that our identity and our actions are all rolled into who we are created to be and what we have been created to do, and part of me, at least after this little victory, has realized that order is always going to be better than chaos. It isn't always going to be more exciting or more interesting, but in the end, it works.

Is this some huge epiphany? No.
But, maybe my problem is not being too busy. Maybe it is that I create chaos.

Just Throwing this Out There...

2008-03-18T18:17:00.002-05:00

I don't know what to say for my entries (entry?) in Deep Space. I think about it quite often, but I never seem to know what it is I want to say. This is very frustrating.

I also can't seem to work up any motivation to work on my Showcase Teaching Unit, which is due tomorrow evening...UGH.

I would rather just...EUREKA. I just might have thought of what to write.

Note:

I would rather have themed nights with my friends.
I would rather get to know people.
I would rather play catch in the ocean.
I would rather be at an amusement park.
I would rather watch and guide and discuss with my students than give them grades.
I would rather take photographs.
I would rather eat ice cream.

More to come. (Don't I always say that?)

How is it March 17 already?

2008-03-17T20:40:00.000-05:00

Where does the time go?

Sans Everything

2008-02-29T23:06:00.002-06:00

All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances,
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages. At first, the infant,
Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms.
Then the whining schoolboy, with his satchel
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,
Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad
Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier,
Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel,
Seeking the bubble reputation
Even in the canon's mouth. And then the justice,
In fair round belly with good capon lined,
With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws and modern instances;
And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts
Into the lean and slippered pantaloon
With spectacles on nose and pouch on side;
His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide
For his shrunk shank, and his big manly voice,
Turning again toward childish treble, pipes
And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second childishness and mere oblivion,
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.
(As You Like It, 2. 7. 139-167)

This...this is something about which I have much to say. But, I am so very sleepy right now. I shall venture to explore tomorrow.

Avocado and Turkey Wrap

2008-02-25T20:44:00.002-06:00

I don't know how it happened, but I am living in filth.

Well, I think I know how it happened. I am unfocused, undisciplined, and lazy. And, the writer's strike occurred giving me no reason to clean each week for people coming over.

Yes, it dawned on me tonight.

The deletion of new television ruined my life.

:-)

I jest. (Even though I know that is when I stopped cleaning and shopping...)

I am simply drowning. I hate it. I don't know why I can't pull myself out of the water, or at least get someone to help me. I know the answers. I am just not heeding them. And then I complain. Urgh.

But, there is nothing wrong with my life. I have no terrible mishaps or worries. I have stresses that I didn't foresee, and I have a lot on my plate, but in reality, things should be just fine.

So, I will keep swimming.

I will wait for the sun to shine.

I will kick a little harder.

Cause hey, I went grocery shopping tonight. That has to stand for something, right?

Right.

Antwon (Antwoin, Antwone, Antwoine...) Died. May he rest in peace.

2008-02-15T14:58:00.004-06:00

I think that I have been waiting a long while to write a post about my thoughts on the decay of the human mind, but it is Friday, I have to go to the license branch (UGH), and I would rather just say that laughing after school today was the best feeling I have had in a long while.

I LOVE when people laugh together.
Happy Weekend.

Antwon might be dead.

2008-02-08T17:41:00.000-06:00

So, maybe I missed the memo on how to be an adult, but I am just not that good at it. I can handle lots of responsibilities, but when it comes to adult stuff, stuff that parents took care of when you were younger, I am simply lacking in the areas of knowledge and follow-through. Maybe some kids get these lessons from their moms and dads. Maybe some kids seek out the answers on their own. Maybe some kids are quicker learners than I. Maybe some kids make it to adulthood and just somehow have it all down.

But, my guess is that some don't. I bet I am not in the minority.

There should be a class. Seriously. Get professionals to come in. Give kids a class on adult stuff. A class that teaches that which might not make it into the average academic track, but one that is no less important than algebra or history. Don't dumb it down. Make it INCREDIBLY relevant. We can't have generations of people like me running around. Seriously.

What will be taught? Here are my initial ideas, in particular order:

1. Basic car maintenance. (Students will learn to change oil, change tires, know what makes what work so they don't end up sounding like idiots when they talk to mechanics, etc.)

2. The basics on buying a car and a house. What is most important? How do you avoid being scammed?

3. Financial planning. What do all those IRAs and 403s mean? How do you prepare for your future in a responsible way? Where is the best place to invest? What are your options? How do you deal with paying off school loans?

4. Basic plumbing. Can you fix a stopped up drain or a toilet bowl leak? Simple stuff. You should be skilled in such.

5. Basic carpentry and work with tools. Can you build simple pieces of furniture? Can you use a wrench correctly?

6. Preparing for a family. Smart (but not controversial, of course) ways to help teenagers think about what it takes to be a husband/wife (oh wait, we are already controversial here) and/or what constitutes good parenting. (I said this was my ideal list, okay?)

7. Job and career building. REAL-LIFE help and facilitating about picking a career and/or interview skills, etc.

8. Stress-management.

9. Living a balanced life...eating right, exercising, balancing work with fun, etc.

10. I don't really have a number 10, but I hate lists that end on odd numbers. So, we will just add budgeting to the list and/or dealing with insurance. :-)

This would be highly beneficial, and if anyone wants to teach me about 1-5, I would greatly appreciate it.

Did you know I have issues?

2008-01-29T18:36:00.000-06:00

I remember when I first went to college and had email for the first time. Life was grand. I would get these surveys in the mail, and we would all fill them out. I would do them instead of studying, and Bekah and I even made one once and pretended it was real. (Secrets revealed.) Well, at some point I realized that I whenever I got one of these surveys, I HAD to fill it out. I couldn't help it. It was like a requirement. I didn't know why. I still don't, but I got this in the mail today, and I thought...I haven't filled one out in a while--here's to requirements. :)

1. What time did you get up this morning? 5:25am--Oh yeah.

2. Diamonds or pearls? Umm...silver?

3. What was the last film you saw at the cinema? 27 Dresses

4. What is your favorite TV show? Lost, The Office, Project Runway, Survivor, House...

5. What do you usually have for breakfast? If I eat it, it is most likely some kind of breakfast bar, but I can hardly get to school on time, so breakfast isn't usually an option.

6. What is your middle name? Ashley

7. What food do you dislike? Trout, liver, beef jerky

8. What is your favorite CD at the moment? I don't really listen to music very much anymore. So, at the moment isn't really relevant.

9. What kind of car do you drive? 1991 Oldsmobile. YES! Antwon.

10. Favorite sandwich? Either chicken salad or a ham and cheese submarino from Fazoli's

11. What characteristic do you despise? Apathy

12. Favorite item of clothing? Either my IU sweatshirt or my green scrubbs

13. If you could go anywhere in the world on vacation, where would you go? Colorado. England. (AND Uganda. Call me brain dead. Or maybe my heart has moved...buried it.)

14. Favorite brand of clothing? Umm...do I get brands? Macy's or Target, I guess.

15. Where would you retire to? Indianapolis...I haven't looked that far into the future. I could see myself spending time on a beach or in the mountains, but right now, I like it here.

16. What was your most recent memorable birthday? I think all of my birthdays are memorable, but I think my favorite one in recent memory was when Adri planned the evening and we went to the Artcraft for the first time and saw Goonies.

17. Favorite sport to watch? Colts football. Live? IU basketball in Assembly Hall

18. Furthest place you are sending this? Uhhh...one foot in front of your face, I presume.

19. Person you expect to send it back first? My guesses for that sent it to me, so I am going to say no one.

21. When is your birthday? September 16

22. Are you a morning person or a night person? Night, absolutely.

23. What is your shoe size? 10

24. Pets? Someday...unless my future husband (obviously, he exists) is allergic or something. If not, I will have a Siberian Huskie.

25. Any new and exciting news you'd like to share with us? We are one step (or fourteen depending on how you look at it) away from putting together a Walk-a-Thon for Invisible Children that stretches 9.5 miles from Perry to the Circle. Permit pending!

26. What did you want to be when you were little? A teacher. There was a brief moment when I wanted to be an astronomer, but that was before I realized that astronomers had more to do with math than just getting to look at the stars for a living.

27. How are you today? Tired.

28. What is your favorite candy? Sour Patch Straws and Take Fives

29. What is your favorite flower? Why is this such a tough question? I love flowers, but I don't really like carnations. There.

30. What is a day on the calendar you are looking forward to? Hmm...July 23rd--FINISHED WITH GRAD SCHOOL (if I get it all finished). April 12--Hopeful day of the Walk-a-Thon. March something or other--Purity Retreat.

32. What is your full name? I like how this question is #32. Did the writer of this survey think I would have forgotten by now? Or maybe it is for your benefit. Reader: Hmm...I have been reading for so long, I don't know who wrote this. AHH! #32 helped me out!" Jacquelyn Ashley Sheehan

33. What are you listening to right now? The sound of QVC playing in the living room (my mama and Nana LOVE that stuff) and the tapping of the keyboard

34. What was the last thing you ate? Sherbet for dessert

35. Do you wish on stars? Nah.

36. If you were a crayon, what color would you be? Midnight blue

37. How is the weather right now? Stormy but calmer than it was thirty minutes ago

38. Last person you spoke to on the phone? Dana

39. Favorite soft drink? Oh, the glories of Cherry Coke

40. Favorite restaurant? This too is difficult for me. Umm...Max and Erma's, Texas Roadhouse, Qdoba, and Ivanhoes

41. Hair color? Dark blonde with light highlights

42. What was your favorite toy as a child? Cabbage Patch Dolls or Barbies or Skip-It

43. Summer or winter? Depends...summer for the most part, but I would really rather Spring and Fall over both.

44. Hugs or kisses? Hugs, I guess.

45. Chocolate or Vanilla? Vanilla

46. Coffee or tea? Coffee products? Coffee. Green Tea? Tea.

47. Do you want your friends to email you back? What kind of question is this? No, I LOVE it when I email people and they leave me hanging. LOVE IT.

48. When was the last time you cried? Last night...emotional TV moment. (I am ridiculous.)

49. What is under your bed? I am guessing a lot of dust and my sleeping bag. Oh wait, my sleeping bag is usually under my bed, but right now, it is in my car. So, dust and one of my duffel bags.

50. What did you do last night? HAHAHAHA. I watched a lot of Lost.

51. What are you afraid of? Not being needed or useful or respected or understood...and yes, not being wanted.

52. Salty or sweet? Both? Salty

53. How many keys on your key ring? 5

54. How many years at your current job? This is my SIXTH year. Woh.

55. Favorite day of the week? The answer to this question used to be Thursday, without a doubt, but I will say Saturday now.

56. How many towns have you lived in? Olympia, Sewickley, Indianapolis, Bloomington, Morris Fork (temporary homestead...)--4.5

57. Do you make friends easily? I make acquaintances easily. Friends take time.

58. How many people will you send this too? Anyone who reads it?

59. How many will respond? Probably no one.

What happened to questions 20 and 31?

I am adding a few because I am curious.

Favorite:
60. Movie--Dead Poet's Society (among a hundred others)
61. Book--To Kill a Mockingbird
62. Unexpected surprise: I have a lot of these. I think my favorite right now would have to be Dana ending up as part of our group of friends or Sarah and Drew's Christmas present to me.

Top 5 Moments of your Life
63-67. (This will be another blog. I don't have any brain power left.)

There, I am finished.

The Others really don't matter.

2008-01-27T13:56:00.000-06:00

Survivor.
The Sixth Sense
Harry Potter.
The Superbowl.
Lost.

What do these things have in common? They are, among thousands of other addictions I have had in my life, the focus of a truth I just realized. I should have known it sooner, but it honestly just dawned on me.

I like stories.

I am not just talking about those that people tell. I am simply stating a fact that I like the idea of story. Yes, I love books. I love movies. I love television. I love talking with people. I love reading the newspaper, especially the Features. (Depending on the newspaper, of course.) I love a good story. I think that it is a God-given love; maybe in some ways, we all yearn to be connected, to tell our tale, to share in the lore of others. Maybe because we are a part of God's great story, we desire stories too.

I also have a slightly addictive personality.

I am not talking about drugs and alcohol here, but I am not sure if my addictions aren't just as dangerous. You see, I like stories so much that sometimes, I immerse myself completely within them. I get intrigued. I get sidetracked. I tell others about the story that has captured me. What captures me? The human conflict. The quest for answers. A mystery to figure out. Brilliance. Passion.

And so, I frantically planned my schedule around Thursday night television during college because I had discovered this intrigue of excitement and psychology: strangers put together in a remote area to live and compete. People laughed; I found it incredibly interesting. And so, I watch a thousand movies and always try to figure out what is going to happen. I speak my thoughts out loud so that people know I figured it out. How annoying, eh? And when a movie actually surprises me? Well, everyone must watch it for its brilliance. I start reading a book series that leaves the reader hanging on just what turn will come next. I spend time discussing its twists and trying to get in front of the mind that created a story that changed the world, in the old-fashioned kind of way: words. Or, I glue myself to the pages of ESPN reading countless articles about the men behind the team. Hoping that we have put our collective spirit behind people worth admiring. Finally, I give in once again to something I knew I wouldn't be able to escape. I sit in amazement for hours on end trying to figure out the story of the people who have created such a story.

And, that brings me to today.

You see, I started watching Lost this past summer, after a few years of ignoring all the people who told me I would love it. I know myself, I said. I will get addicted. I know I will love it. But, I gave in. Just like I did with Survivor. And with Harry Potter. I guess I really don't know myself all that well to assume that I will be able to withstand the intrigue of one more great story. I crammed two seasons in last summer, and I held off on the third. Two weeks ago, I started that. Moments ago, I finished episode 16. As the show came to a close, I was utterly AMAZED again at how brilliant it is. Personally, I think it is one of the most interesting stories ever told.

But when I took out the DVD, knowing I didn't have any more to watch today, something hit me like a ton of bricks.

Every season of Survivor (and every other show) ends; in some ways, they all end up looking the same.
JK Rowling has closed the book on Harry.
Movies aren't as special when you don't allow yourself to be surprised.
The glory of the Superbowl fades, and the next year, you might not make it back.
And, when all is said and done, there will be nothing left to figure out about the island and The Others.

These things that I invest my mind and heart into are only temporary. Do they deserve the attention they receive? I can say they don't really matter to me, but they certainly have gotten a lot of my time and energy and excitement and thoughts.

Those stories, the ones that are created by man, always come to an end, and eventually, we wait for another one to come along and carry us through more twists and turns and self-ignited excitement. There is nothing wrong with entertainment. Creativity is a gift from God. But, I don't think He wants me to push Him aside to get to everything else so easily. All those fake stories...everything else...ends.

My story continues though. So does yours.
Maybe the Author of Life would rather me give more of my heart to the Greatest Story of All.

Sadly, it is easier said than done.

2008-01-19T07:48:00.001-06:00

So, since it is the day of a wedding, it is only appropriate that I throw out my "normal" post about marriage/change/love/etc. I am not sad today, so that should make you feel better from the start.

The girls went and saw 27 Dresses last night. We were in a packed theater...women of all ages and maybe five men, who were obviously forced to come by said women. No offense, guys, but it doesn't get any more Chick Flick than this, even if it is funny. We thought we would be a little cliche ourselves, as proven by the fact that we went and saw a movie all about weddings the night before Amanda and Nick tie the knot. Awww. How cute.

It was, though.

But, that's not what I want to write about, actually. On my way home and once I got home, I started thinking about this movie. I went into it fully expecting it to be cheesy, predictable, and ridiculous. I was pleasantly surprised at the humor. The reaction by people in the theater was so stinkin' hilarious though. Girls squealing in delight. A grown woman reacting by saying "I LOVE HIM," while slapping the thigh of her friend. Clapping. (That was me.) Aww's and gasps and "Oh, my goodness, he is hot." (That was me too...and MANY OTHERS.) We had a stereotypical reaction to a stereotypical movie, and when all was said and done, I am sure most in the theater walked out talking about how cute the movie was...and funny.

Have movies like this ruined our perception of love?

I know people that have the real thing. There are butterflies, and there are mistakes. There are moments where a guy does the right thing and makes everyone melt, and there are moments of pain. The REAL thing, love, that is, is so much better than the movies, but it isn't so easy. It is commitment, trust, truth, and serving. It is from God. Yet, I wonder how many of us spend our time hoping for the surface type of love that we clap for in the movies. We keep waiting for the beautiful guy to come in and miraculously fall in love with our charm. We keep waiting for him to say the right thing, as if he were working from a script. We wait for the flowers, the duet in the bar, the feeling to be just right, the good girl to win...always. We wait. for. fiction. to. become. reality. Even if we don't admit it, we do it.

Poor guys.
Poor girls.

The storybook ending rarely happens. Neither does the beginning.
Sex has consequences. HUGE consequences. (And, I am not talking about babies or STDs alone.)
People don't always choose what is right.
Guys' eyes are rarely that blue.
Sometimes, there is no knight and shining armor who even cares.

We are made to love. Tis true.
But, maybe our definition of what love is shouldn't come from Hollywood.

It is a dangerous place to invest your dreams.

Ummm...the Pain Tree needs to die.

2008-01-16T22:36:00.000-06:00

So, I feel like my posts have gotten increasingly whiny, decreasingly funny, and far less thought-provoking. I want to say something real, rather than just moan and groan. I want to observe and write, but I find myself just sitting and staring and moping.

Shouldn't I have something important to say?
Before I launch into another "wwwwwwwaaaaaaaaaahhhhhh" post, I will just send my apologies to my three faithful readers for being so Pain Tree-esque. Of my three faithful readers, maybe only one of you knows what I am talking about, but the metaphor works.

My voice shall rise again.

Dying to Run

2008-01-13T15:48:00.000-06:00

When things are tough, do you ever wonder if they are actually tough or if you are just a wimp? Do you ever wonder if you just feel badly for yourself? What if you think you are deserving of something you are not? Considering the fact that we really deserve nothing, aren't all hard times a mere reflection of our selfishness? We are uncomfortable; therefore, we are unhappy.

That might be the truth. It might be the root.
But, it doesn't make the hard times any easier.
It just makes me want to run away even more.

Grin again gang...

2008-01-03T22:37:00.000-06:00

When people ask me a question, I always find it hard to decide whether I should just "give them what they want," which means saying niceties that they don't really have to respond to, or telling them the truth. Today, I tried out the truth, and it was really funny.

Kind Student or Teacher: How was your break?

Me: Terrible.

KSoT: Strange facial expression without words to respond.

Me: I thought I would go honest.

KSoT: (Relieved that I broke the tension and made a joke) Oh okay. Sorry.

You see, most of time, don't we just expect people to say "fine" or "good," no matter what the break was like? We can then respond in like when they ask us back and move on our merry way. I find a hard time not telling the truth. But, I also don't like making people feel uncomfortable. It was a tough call. I went for honest, and you know what?

It made me laugh.

Today, no matter how terrible the last few weeks have been, was a great day.

Basic Training

2007-12-29T19:19:00.000-06:00

1. I didn't make the musical when I was a freshman in high school.

2. After making varsity as a sophomore, I was cut from the cheerleading squad as a junior.

3. I did not get picked for the Teacher Exchange Program to Uganda for the summer of 2008.

That's it, my friends. Of all the endeavors I have hoped to attain, I can only think of three that have not ended up as I hoped. Three. Maybe there are more, but right now, in this state of mind, I can only think of three. I am not saying this to be cocky; I am trying to make you understand that I have either failed at taking risks in my life, or I have been pretty blessed. I think it is probably a combination of both. I haven't been trained in the realm of loss. If I can't win, I usually don't play. And, regardless of how gross it makes me sound, I usually win when I play. Not that winning is what I am talking about here, but you know what I mean.

When I got that email to go to Uganda, I nearly fell out of my chair. I was made for it. I knew it down to the very fiber of my being. I knew it. I prayed and talked and thought and wrote and thought and prayed, and I was sure that if I was supposed to go, I would. The problem is that I didn't honestly prepare myself for the possibility that I wasn't going to get picked. Like I said, I am not trained in such thought. I was made for this program. For the past two months, not a day has gone by that I have not pictured some aspect of going to Africa. Each day, I have imagined the flight or the children or the teachers or the schools or the food or the impact this adventure would have on my life. For the past week or so, I have been planning on what I would give to Paul to tell everyone at Morris Fork. I was mapping out my doctor's appointments and my plan for saving money and when I would take the break from graduate school. Not a day has gone by. Sincerely.

This break hasn't been too great. Yesterday, when I put into thought just how "not-great" this break has been, I thought to myself: At least I will have the joy of knowing about Africa before it is over, and I can start my semester by taking my students along for the ride to prepare. When I was getting ready to go to my mom's tonight, I signed into my hotmail account, and before I signed in, I thought to myself: Maybe I will have an email telling me I am going! When I saw Amy's name in my inbox, I started crying before I clicked open. I scanned it without reading it the first time. And then the tears really started to roll. "Thank you for trying," she said, "but others were better suited to the program."

No, Amy. You must be mistaken. Didn't you get the memo? I was made for this. How could there be any person who wanted to go more than me? Amy, didn't you hear? My heart has been crying for this opportunity long before even I could hear it.

The rational side of my brain knows that there are probably thousands of people who are more talented and passionate and have more money and are actually better suited for this, but right now, I just want to throw up my hands and cry. You see, maybe my life has been one open door after another because I don't work well when the door is shut in front of my face. Obviously, my heart will heal. I am usually the one who plays the "fixer," and I am fully aware that this too shall pass. I am aware that I am not meant to go because that is what I prayed, right?

It is just an odd feeling when God and I don't agree.

PS. This story isn't over. I will go one day. Of that I am sure.

Scream.

2007-12-29T17:10:00.000-06:00

AGH. UGH. BLEK. BAH. ARGH.

Shut Up and Dance

2007-12-21T17:48:00.000-06:00

So, I am finished with another semester.

I have spent a lot of time in my head recently (does that make sense?), so a plethora of topics have been swirling around to write about; however, I am frightfully tired, fairly uninspired, and quite at a loss as to the lackluster celebration that is in my heart right now in terms of this, what should be the most glorious time of the year.

I just don't want to disappoint anyone anymore. I don't want regulations or rules or anyone pulling me in a direction I can't go. I want to fix my family. I want to be a good friend. I want to be a better teacher. I want to actually follow through. I want to get ahead. I want to be understood. I want to understand. I want to follow God rather than simply wave to Him once in a while. I want to sit and relax and laugh.

But, I have to pack and do laundry and come up with Christmas gifts...and prepare for my next grad school class to start...and figure out how I am changing next semester.

By the time I get my head wrapped around the fact that I am finished with one of the hardest semesters of my life, I will be starting what is promising to be the hardest. I hate to be a Negative-Nancy, but there is a bit of a shadow over me right now, I guess.

My hope is that it will disappear with the rise of the sun.
Have a very blessed Christmas. I am off to North Carolina.

Tormented by what I do not change...

2007-12-16T21:01:00.001-06:00

Here I am again. Four days left in the semester. Drowning in work to do. A thousand things on my mind. Wasting time telling "someone" what "everyone" already knows.

Will I ever get ahead?

ARGH!

2007-12-09T11:40:00.000-06:00

So, I have been living at my mom's taking care of the family for the past week, and I haven't been on my normal online routine. This is probably good for my school work, but it has left me a bit befuddled as far as getting my thoughts out to ...those four people that read this... is concerned.

Also, my page looks differently on my mom's computer. I am sure it looks differently on yours. Just to let you know, on my computer, all the words are over the picture, so it looks nice. On here, it says "or lack of what is found th". Argh. That is annoying.

Alas, I still can't spend any quality time writing a good post. Maybe sometime soon. Maybe.

Rumblings...

2007-11-28T17:19:00.000-06:00

I am posting soon. I just keep forgetting not to spend hours working on other stuff. :-)

I am certainly not drifting right now. Each day is packed with a punch. It is just a lovely realization.

Meaningless stuff that makes me smile.

2007-11-17T13:18:00.000-06:00

Pretty fantastic lines:

"I've been spilling my guts all weekend, and I don't know a thing about you."

"I'm allergic to fabric softener. I majored in Comparative Literature at Brown University. I hate anchovies, and I think I'd miss you even if we never met."

Out of my hands...

2007-11-12T20:50:00.000-06:00

Overnight to New York, New York. Check.

Sometimes, I wish I could put a double in my classroom while I am teaching so that I could focus on helping students grow in all the other aspects of their lives. And sometimes, I wish it were the other way around.

No matter, it's in the mail. (Well, it will be in the morning. Silly Veteran's Day...that isn't supposed to be offensive.)

No, but seriously...

2007-11-10T23:40:00.001-06:00

Okay, three pages? Are they serious? SIX QUESTIONS in THREE PAGES? Do they know who they are dealing with here? I could use three pages for ONE question, let alone six.

I don't know how to answer them either.

What do I expect in visiting an emerging country? What does that even mean?
How will I deal with Western privilege?

etc. etc.

I thought the application had to be POSTMARKED by the 15th. No, it has has to arrive by then. Oh cripes.

You sound like you are on the verge of death...

2007-11-06T20:49:00.000-06:00

Have you seen the movie Love Actually? I am not going to spend my time on here writing about the validity of the messages in that movie, but I am going to talk about the beginning. It starts in the airport. It talks about watching all of the stories unfold and how "love actually is all around." Well, that introduction is beautiful to me. It reminds me of how much I love watching people. Let me explain.

I do not have a great track record when it comes to accomplishing anything once I come home for the evening. I am just not motivated, or I spend so much time planning or working on grad school (or on Facebook...) that I don't get any grading finished. Tonight, I actually got my butt into my car and drove to Borders to try to be productive. What was I thinking, really? There is not much in this world that distracts me more than a giant store filled with books and a cafe filled with interesting people to watch. However, I did finally grade the S2 tests, which is a grand feat.

I love the idea of writing. I love the prospect of publishing a book someday, but my own writing never lives up to my own expectations of what is good. Creating a story is not something I am innately good at doing, and my eloquence is usually lost with an abundance of prefacing. (Such as now.) I know what is good, but I don't know how to produce it most of the time. Tonight was the first time I ventured into Borders since the release of Harry Potter. (Even then, I was erely laughing in the parking lot.) I can't go there very often because I get lost in all the words. I could sit in that store for hours on end and not regret it at all, but that is the problem. Maybe when I am finished with grad school, I will get a part-time job there. I could be that fun, passionate employee who knows about books and reads to small children. I digress. There is something about book stores that makes me fall more in love with words, and so, as I was grading tests while sitting in the cafe, I couldn't help but jot down notes for what could be a great story one day.

There were three tables that captured my attention. One was a table of old men, obviously familiar with each other, but I am not sure how. One was a man tutoring two guys in math. And, the last was a small family of three, a dad, a mom, and a young baby girl dressed in a white knitted sweater and white pants with gold ruffles at the bottom.

The math tutor just made me want to try my hand at math again. It has been awhile; maybe I would be better at it this time around. That guy could be my tutor. He was a REALLY good teacher.

The Old Men's Club was obviously the funniest of the three. They were there to hang out with each other, it seems, but two of them were playing a fierce round of Chess. While the two in the middle were playing, the other four chatted. Let me share a few of the moments I overheard. I couldn't stop laughing to myself, especially as I was across the cafe and could clear these words clearly.

"Where did you learn how to play chess? In prison?"

Man talking to other man in hooded sweatshirt: "Why don't you take that stupid thing off your face?"

"So, are we going to have a new mayor?"
"I don't know. I voted for him today."
In astonishment: "You voted for Bart?"
"No, the other guy."

"Howard, why do you have such a terrible message on your voicemail?"

Howard: "What do you mean?"

"It sounds like you are on the verge of death."

It made me wonder what my guy friends will be like when they are in their seventies. Will they gather at Borders and play Chess? Will they still be involved in Fantasy Football leagues and go bowling together on Tuesday nights? Will they rant about the good ol' days and hit on the young girl that works at the cash register? Will they be around after their wives have passed wondering if love will ever come knocking again? I wonder.

And, then, as my mind tumbled away from the retirees and back into irony and plot, I heard a calm voice reading Dr. Suess. I could recognize Hop on Pop anywhere. I looked over, and there was a young dad reading to his infant daughter while holding her in his arms. He was whispering the words very gently, gingerly resting his chin on the top of her head, holding the little cardboard book in front of her eyes. His soft tone and his endearing smile made me melt. First of all, the moment was simply adorable. Secondly, I got this strange sense of pride when I saw that he was trying to give his daughter the gift of reading long before she recognizes what that means, and I was proud of that little family. I know that is cliche and stupid, but it made me look around the rest of the room and wonder what each person's favorite book was, whether or not their parents read to them as children...

So anyway...maybe someday, I will tell that story in the form of a story, rather than a rambling gathering of observations, but this is my medium for now.

It was a good night.

This is all just a bit of silliness, really.

2007-11-03T00:23:00.000-05:00

So, I had to do a load of laundry before setting off to Turkey Run for our "Camping-in-Frigid-November" adventure. Layers, people, layers.

I had to run the dryer through twice (as usual) in order for all of my clothes to finish drying, and when that was finished, I went out to get said clothes. I happened to dry a lot of socks in this load, which can make for a very interesting experience. I think I tried at least six or seven times to pick up all the laundry at once before I was finally successful at carrying the pile the three feet into my apartment. I must have looked pretty silly as I stooped to get the clothes, dropped something, stooped down again, dropped something else, etc.

I started giggling to myself because there are times when I wish that I was being watched by a hidden camera like The Truman Show. You know the moments; they show up at unexpected times, and they are so real and ridiculous that they scream excellent television. But, no one is watching usually. (Thankfully, I guess. If someone were watching me while I was picking up my laundry, I would probably be creeped out...) So, I laugh, in spite of myself, because truly, life is just silly, and sometimes, no matter how many socks you drop, you just have to smile.

And then Moses heard a voice...

2007-10-31T22:16:00.000-05:00

So...talk about answer to prayer, eh?

I felt like I needed to get involved on a deeper level in Uganda. I felt like I was possibly being called to do something with government. I was scared to give up my beautiful home at Perry.

And then, BAM...

Maybe you should join the Teacher Exchange in Uganda this summer?
Oh, okay.

After spending a few days in a whirlwind of thought and excessive worrying, I have made my decision. I am applying. What does this mean? No Morris Fork. No camp (although it is a remote possibility). LOTS of money. Postponing my graduation from graduate school. And putting my mom through a cycle of worry like none she has battled before.

But, none of that really seems like a big deal to me. I have absolute complete peace about it. I am working on the application, and if this is God's will, then I know it will happen. I started to worry about analyze what the IC people want me to say, what they are expecting, etc. I stopped doing that. I will answer honestly. I will not pretend to be anything I am not. If it is meant to be, it will be. I am sure of that.

Want to know what I could be doing? Okay, I will let you know...in brief...

Week 1: Teachers travel to Uganda, arriving at the airport in Entebbe—a city located one
hour from the capital city of Kampala. Because the North and South exist in such
dichotomous educational conditions, an important part of the assessment process will
begin in Kampala. U.S. educators will tour a secondary campus in Kampala prior to
heading to Gulu. The initiative will not be framed as a comparative experience, but
beginning the program this way will offer perspective for teachers as they gradually
begin to understand the education standards within the country and how those differ in
the various regions. Once in Gulu, educators will spend their time becoming more
familiar with the city and the culture, as well as attending workshops led by Invisible
Children staff.

Featured Workshops for U.S. and Ugandan Program Participants
1. Cultural Exploration
2. Language Training
3. Historical Foundations of Ugandan Schools
4. Education in War Time

Week 2: The workshop series will continue, and teachers will receive their school
placements. Teachers will create residency groups; each residency group will be placed at
a school for the duration of the trip. Groups will be comprised of one or more teachers for
each of the following disciplines: English, science, mathematics, and social studies. Each
teacher will be paired with a Ugandan instructor in the same field. The in-school
experiences during the week will focus on observation, relationship building (with
teaching partners and students), and dialogue with the school community. All
participating educators will have an opportunity to roundtable with one another at the end
of this week, affording each schools’ teachers the opportunity to ask questions of one
another, cast vision for the remaining weeks, dialogue about specific needs/desires, write
an initial self-assessment, and create a method of evaluation and documentation that will
benefit all parties once the initiative has concluded.

Weeks 3-6: The third week marks the continuation of the team teaching that will take
place the remainder of the trip. Teachers will work with one another and the student body
on the given curriculum, exploring student-centered methodologies, while remaining
focused on the material needed for the exams in August and November. Throughout the
experience, educators will engage in support groups with one another. This collaboration
enables teachers and administrators at different schools to brainstorm, develop strategies,
relate work to the texts, create lessons together, and crystallize concepts. All participants
will also attend Invisible Children’s second International Teaching and Learning
Conference in Gulu, Uganda.

Yea...and I get to go rafting and on a safari. Bonus.

My mind explodes when I think about it, literally. I can hardly fathom this possibility. Tomorrow, when I get up to teach at FCA (oops...that wasn't supposed to happen, but maybe it was...) I think I might cry. I am bursting. BURSTING.

Just a few emotions rolling around in my brain...

2007-10-23T19:52:00.000-05:00

Egad.

I HATE how much time I waste. (Now?)

I HATE how much I complain because I don't have time.

I HATE how much I want to do things other than what I need to do.

I HATE how I always feel like I am letting someone down.

I HATE how guilty or selfish I feel most of the time.

I HATE how I feel trapped inside my brain.

I HATE feeling misunderstood.

I LOVE that I have so many papers to grade, so many activities to join, so many minds to influence, so many people depending on me, so much to give, so many thoughts to think, so many opportunities to express myself, and so much life to live.

I just seem to get these two worlds confused sometimes.

Why Naps Are Dangerous for My Brain

2007-10-21T12:54:00.000-05:00

Okay, so I was grading tests, and of course, I fell asleep. Note: I was grading them on my bed under the covers. As if I expected any less. So, maybe I should learn not to take naps when I am extremely behind in my grading and have not accomplished even CLOSE to what I intended to accomplish over Fall Break. I had a very strange dream. And this one was so real and so strange that I feel the need to write it down to be able to remember it. Details are already sliding out of my consciousness, but it was just so real. And, it must, somehow, be connected with my feelings of guilt and failure over procrastination. Since I deem Jordan and Dana to be the only two people reading this, the names might mean nothing, but I will use the real people's names nonetheless for myself. :-)

Okay, so the start of the dream was in the gym. Originally, I thought it was graduation, but it definitely was not that because of the rest of the dream, but it was something that filled the gym. I was wearing a peach-colored dress that was quite cute, but I have never seen it before. Next, the details get hazy, but somehow, I am left with only my underwear on, but I am covered by a towel. (No, they do not get hazy because I am embarrassed; I simply don't have any idea how I ended up wearing what I was wearing.) So, keep in mind that I am like that for the rest of the dream, and I see TONS of people, but I am never asked why I am not wearing clothes, nor does anyone seem to care. The towel is JUST big enough to cover me, though, so it slips throughout the dream, which I find horrific, but it seems that I was the only one with that on my mind. The rest of the dream has this urgency to it; I am desperately trying to get to my classroom or somewhere with clothes, and I am interrupted by a circus of people.

I come into the guidance office, where I pick up my mail. In my mailbox are a few letters from parents asking for things that I do not have to give them, as if their students have lost them. I don't know what they are talking about. Also in my mailbox are two "fake" phones. They have batteries, and they work, but they are a gel-like substance that is soft to the touch, and there are also numbers and names on the back of them, as if I am supposed to know what they are. I try to find someone in guidance who knows what I am to do, but to no avail. However, in the hallway of the guidance office, where the conference room is, there is Ben Martin, in a very un-Ben Martin t-shirt. He is outside a room, and there is another student, who I knew when I was sleeping but now do not know, and Ben says, "Hey, are you _____?" He uses the kid's last name to identify him, which seemed strange to me, and the kid says, "Yes!" Ben says, very enthusiastically, "You are on the list! You made it!" The kid jumps up and kicks his legs in a toe-touch fashion, and knocks into the wall. Ben jumps up exactly like Jack Black and punches the wall. They both high-five, and I just stand there numbly watching this hilarious interaction.

Moving on...when I try to enter the main hallway (remember, I am urgently trying to get somewhere with clothes), I find myself amongst hundreds of screaming students. It is the Robotics team. This is where the new people find out if they make it, and they are doing the whole ordeal publicly and very dramatically. Basically, all the hopefuls are by the glass on top of the main stairwell. The team as it is lined up on the stairs and some newly-made rafters facing the hopefuls. It kind of looks like the Deal or No Deal setup. Very glitzy and very over-the-top. So, in a very slow process, Steve Wherry calls out the new members, and they cry like beauty pageant girls and jump to the other side. There is a crowd of people at the bottom of the stairs and all around just waiting and watching. Some of the team members that I specifically remember: Mikey Hughey and Jamie Cartwright. Jamie is wearing matching shirts with four other people in a line, and when I walk by him, he jumps out of line and flexes. Yes. Mike is standing in the middle of the new rafters, and there is a white light shining on him that makes him look like the most prized recruit. On the not-members-yet side? Alex Carlisle and Steve Sizemore, among many others. There is girl who graduated last year or the year before as well, but I can't remember her name. When she gets called, as the last person, she body surfs onto the other side and falls down the stairwell.

By this time, SOMEHOW, I am back in the guidance office, watching this in front of the windows. Susie Schoch is beside me, and she rushes out to the girl who just fell down the stairs and screams, "Hey _______, what do you think about the challenge you have just been chosen to accomplish?" The girl says, "It's awesome!" (I found that humorous in my dream.) Then, as I am standing in the guidance office, I notice that there is a classroom set up in the waiting area for kids who have bad report cards/progress reports, and so the place is also packed. I notice my lack of clothing again, especially after my towel dropped as I was watching the Robotics parade, and I am unaware as to how long it was down. I quickly fix it, and I eerily glare at this kid at the back of the guidance office, who I swear was the only one who noticed my clothing mishap. On my way out the door, Emily VD jumps out of the crowd. I am excited to see her, as she is out of the country this semester, and she immediately asks me about my dress that I was wearing earlier. She said she has the same one, but it doesn't fit her, so she needs to borrow mine. I tell her that there is no way my dress will fit her, but she says she can make it work.

Okay, this is longer than I expected. I am getting bored. The parts that are left include figuring out what to do with that phone based on the wisdom of Bruce Kalb and having a sort of stand-off while walking up the stairs with various teachers. Finally, the dream ends with me staring up at all the "rejects" from the Robotics team, and I feel so badly for them because they are so upset, and the manner in which they were told seems so wrong. Steve Sizemore is last seen crouched in the corner of the stairwell with tears streaming down his face, and I am frantically (still in a towel) trying to find Alex to see if he is alright.

The End.

Fall Break...just in time for a few rants on the state of living

2007-10-17T20:19:00.000-05:00

Rant #1

So, over the course of the last two weeks, my computer came down with an illness. I invested MANY hours trying to fix it, and finally, after all other routes were blocked (literally and figuratively), I did a full system recovery, which basically wiped my computer of everything that I have put on it since I bought it in 2005. This was a great idea because it is now back to normal, and in some ways, it is better. Last night, as I was saving all of My Documents onto CDs, I had this thought. First of all, I was actually almost making myself SICK because I was scared that something was going to go terribly wrong. My nerves were shot, and after another six hours of staring at the screen, I didn't know if I could handle anything else. I started wondering if it is healthy (let alone sane) to have so much invested in an object. Then, I started thinking about how much of my world revolves around a computer. Then, I started thinking about the supposed future of education and how much MORE my world is going to revolve around a computer. It made me more sick.

But, don't I choose this? I like to be connected just as much as the next person, and whether or not it helps or hinders real communication, I really like being able to communicate online. I am getting an education through the computer, which makes it extremely important. And, one of my favorite hobbies, photography, is now also attached to the computer. I have valid reasons for seemingly being completely dependent on this thing, but still, it worries me. It made me want to go somewhere where I can leave it all behind. It made me want to retreat. It made me want to disappear.

And then...I lost all of my Morris Fork pictures. Basically, that includes anything from Morris Fork for the past three years. I was REALLY upset at first, but again, I starting thinking about why. Do I need the pictures to remind me of why the place is special to me? Do I need the pictures to validate Morris Fork in my heart? No. They are just pictures. They aren't life. I LOVE pictures, as you probably know, but the digital world has definitely decreased my connection to the ART of photography. Instant gratification isn't always gratifying in the long run.

The whole process was disturbing. But, it is fixed now...I guess.

Rant #2

I have no idea if anyone is reading this, besides Dana, but see if you can catch what I am talking about here.

I waste WAY TOO MUCH TIME AND ENERGY trying to figure out how to impress people. It isn't always a conscious thought, but it is there, deeply ingrained into my very existence. I analyze and re-analyze conversations, I try to do what I think others want me to do, I wonder how I can be better all the time, etc. I don't think it is bad to want to be your best, but I just realized yesterday that if a person doesn't love me for who I am, why should I bother worrying so much? I just don't want that to be a battle in my head. I don't want that to be a concern of mine. I just want to be. Me.

Getting My Hands Dirty

2007-10-13T23:32:00.000-05:00

So, I just watched Blood Diamond. It was very good. It was good for the reasons for which you don't want to say a movie is good. Do you know what I mean?

And it, along with numerous other influences in my life recently, made me think again about how big the world is and how small I try to live it. And my heart has recently been on this strange ride that fluctuates between apathetic and raging with fire to correct injustice in any possible way. I just have so much to learn; it is overwhelming. But, I don't want to sit on the sidelines, and I want to bring people along with me. I seriously want to play this game.

I guess, sometimes, I wonder where my life will take me. I have always thought of myself as kind of a down-home kind of girl. I have always wanted roots that run deep, and I pretty much banked on the fact that I would reside in Perry Township and teach in Perry Township for the rest of my days. I would get married and have a family, and my children would play with Aubry's children. All of our friends would grow older together, at some point abandoning our need to act like children to become adults, and then our children would be children together. Yes, that dream has played out in my mind once or twice.

But, what if I never have a family? What if that just isn't going to happen? Is it such a bad fate after all?

What if I realize that I could be used somewhere else, doing work that not many other people, especially those with families, would ever do? What if it is my plan to shake things up a bit out in the wide open spaces of lands far away?

What if?

What if I am supposed to be the teacher running for office? What if I am supposed to lead educational reform, rather than shut my door and teach it? What if my voice could travel to Washington? What if I could be a voice of reason in the midst of irrationality?

What if?

What if I am not going to do what I always thought I would do? What if I have to dig up my roots and live on my feet for a while? Would I be missed? Would it matter? Is it supposed to matter?

I just feel this rumbling inside of me, and I am not sure what it is, but maybe my dream of changing the world through the lives of my students is not where my story is supposed to end. Maybe I am supposed to be more. Well, not more. Just different.

What if?

Talk about great beginnings...

2007-10-10T22:13:00.000-05:00

So, guess what I found? I found Stephen King's The Body, which later became Stand By Me. This is how it starts, and geesh, I have never been so excited to read something written by Stephen King.

"The most important things are the hardest things to say. They are the things you get ashamed of, because words diminish them—words shrink things that seemed limitless when they were in your head to no more than living size when they’re brought out. But it’s more than that, isn’t it? The most important things lie too close to wherever your secret heart is buried, like landmarks to a treasure your enemies would love to steal away. And you may make revelations that cost you dearly only to have people look at you in a funny way, not understanding what you’ve said at all, or why you thought it was so important that you almost cried while you were saving it. That’s the worst, I think. When the secret stays locked within not for want of a teller but for want of an understanding ear.

I was twelve going on thirteen when I first saw a dead human being. It happened in 1960, a long time ago…although sometimes it doesn’t seem that long to me. Especially on the nights I wake up from dreams where the hail falls into his eyes."

If only I could be a professional procrastinator...

2007-10-09T18:24:00.001-05:00

So, I felt I needed a new format to aid in my newest endeavor. I want to write about life, as it is, and I am tired of being too busy or uninspired. I told my CWC members to devote a part of this year to learning the craft of writing and thinking, so I should do the same.

So, here we are.

(Thanks, Dana. I tend to follow you in my internet trends.)