8.30.2006
8.26.2006
Parental Guidance Suggested
The following couple of informational pieces may not be suited for young children (or men of any age or my Very Southern Mother, who would not appreciate the immodesty). Beth, however, will probably love it:
There is, for some reason, a life-sized cardboard cutout of Michael W. Smith standing in the ladies' (single unit) bathroom in the teachers' lounge at school. I strongly feel the need to cover myself up the entire time that I'm, um, taking care of business. I also blush furiously. I mean, friends may be friends forever, Michael, but even my closest ones don't watch me pee. And the only time I've ever even seen you was at Atlanta Fest when I was in junior high. This bathroom coziness might be a little much, don't you think?
***********************************************************************************
Wednesday, at the gym, I was talking to one of the guys who runs the place. He teaches my Buttz and Gutz class (yes, they spell them with z's; it's not really a classy establishment, but it's cheap) on Monday nights and does a great job; I attribute a lot of my toning up over the last year to him. Anyway, he offered to show me around the weight room a little in order to give me some more variety in my routine. I took him up on it yesterday.
We were just starting out, and he was showing me how to do the whole bench press thing (which, by the way, is the one thing I told Cal that I didn't want to do, but oh well). I knew I was in trouble when he told me to scoot back on the bench so that my, uh, well, .... they rhyme with 'ripples' ... line up with the bar. If that didn't embarrass me enough, he then proceeded to tell me just exactly how much I needed to scoot. "Keep going, keep going, keep going... there! that's it!" Uh, yeah.
You know a man invented a particular system when it requires using those as a unit of measurement.
8.22.2006
A new and more evil locker.
I fully and truly believe one thing: there will be no lockers in heaven.
Remember my first day of school story from three years ago? Remember how exhausted I was after my attempt to teach twenty 6th graders how to open locks? Let's just say that three years' experience hasn't helped any.
No, this year, as part of a building upgrade, we get locks that are built-in on the lockers. In theory, it's a great idea. The middle school bullies can't switch a poor kid's lock with someone else's, thus creating chaos during the four minutes we have between classes. Irresponsible students can't lose their locks and force the school to spend extra money replacing them.
However, the administration forgot to keep us, the four little unimportant 6th grade teachers, in mind when they made this decision. You see, the locks cause the lockers to lock. Automatically. You cannot get into a locker without knowing how to unlock a lock. And 6th graders are severely lacking in that ability.
After the Locker Fiasco of 2003, we decided to leave the locks off of the precious lockers until the kids were absolute experts at opening them. Problem solved. This year, however, not only did we have to teach them how to work the locks on the chaotic first day, but we had to teach them this skill at their lockers rather than in the relatively safe and comfortable confinement of our classrooms. Lockers that stretch, stacked one on top of the other, down a really long hall. A really long hall filled with 70 locker-giddy kids.
Giddy, that is, until they realized that they couldn't open their locks without listening carefully to their teachers.
We finally got it all settled with only a few remaining problems. We'd been given wrong combinations for a couple of the lockers, so those kids were out of luck for the day. Another student's lip trembled violently as I told him that the lock that had been installed upside down on his locker couldn't be fixed in the next 5 minutes. You think I'm kidding.
All of this craziness happened right around noon yesterday. It was a half-day, so I went home an hour later at 1, with the hall still filled with excited kids attempting (and mostly failing) to open their lockers so that they could decorate them with shelves and mirrors and stickers. The parents had shown up by that time, and grown men in business suits (obviously coming from work especially for this event) were breaking out their power tools and installing shelves. Leopard-trimmed mirrors -likely monogrammed, but I can't say for sure- littered the floor.
Janet called me at 3:15 when she left campus to tell me that several of the kids and their parents were still there working happily practicing the locks and decorating the 2-feet tall metal cubicles. THREE HOURS LATER.
Oh, if only I were exaggerating.
Remember my first day of school story from three years ago? Remember how exhausted I was after my attempt to teach twenty 6th graders how to open locks? Let's just say that three years' experience hasn't helped any.
No, this year, as part of a building upgrade, we get locks that are built-in on the lockers. In theory, it's a great idea. The middle school bullies can't switch a poor kid's lock with someone else's, thus creating chaos during the four minutes we have between classes. Irresponsible students can't lose their locks and force the school to spend extra money replacing them.
However, the administration forgot to keep us, the four little unimportant 6th grade teachers, in mind when they made this decision. You see, the locks cause the lockers to lock. Automatically. You cannot get into a locker without knowing how to unlock a lock. And 6th graders are severely lacking in that ability.
After the Locker Fiasco of 2003, we decided to leave the locks off of the precious lockers until the kids were absolute experts at opening them. Problem solved. This year, however, not only did we have to teach them how to work the locks on the chaotic first day, but we had to teach them this skill at their lockers rather than in the relatively safe and comfortable confinement of our classrooms. Lockers that stretch, stacked one on top of the other, down a really long hall. A really long hall filled with 70 locker-giddy kids.
Giddy, that is, until they realized that they couldn't open their locks without listening carefully to their teachers.
We finally got it all settled with only a few remaining problems. We'd been given wrong combinations for a couple of the lockers, so those kids were out of luck for the day. Another student's lip trembled violently as I told him that the lock that had been installed upside down on his locker couldn't be fixed in the next 5 minutes. You think I'm kidding.
All of this craziness happened right around noon yesterday. It was a half-day, so I went home an hour later at 1, with the hall still filled with excited kids attempting (and mostly failing) to open their lockers so that they could decorate them with shelves and mirrors and stickers. The parents had shown up by that time, and grown men in business suits (obviously coming from work especially for this event) were breaking out their power tools and installing shelves. Leopard-trimmed mirrors -likely monogrammed, but I can't say for sure- littered the floor.
Janet called me at 3:15 when she left campus to tell me that several of the kids and their parents were still there working happily practicing the locks and decorating the 2-feet tall metal cubicles. THREE HOURS LATER.
Oh, if only I were exaggerating.
Re: Watch out, Lance Armstrong.
Yes, I did it. I bought a bike. It's actually this one, although the image above is the factory picture. But it's this model (a Trek 7.2 FX), color, and everything. Mine's been ordered in my correct size and will be here in a week.I'm excited about it, even though it was a tough decision and a big purchase. What made me finally bite the bullet was realizing last night that the cost of the bike is, more or less, the amount I pay for a year of gym membership, and that doesn't seem so bad. And I hope this bike will last longer than a year.
Assuming, of course, that I have better luck on a bike than I do in a car. Right.
8.16.2006
A thief in our midst
My classroom at school is very dull. I'm not into the whole stereotypical teacher mentality of "Oh, wow, your bulletin board looks GREAT... can you give me tips on mine?" Some folks go all out; you should see our elementary building, for example. It's a Martha Stewart haven, a veritable -and colorful- feast for the eyes of the young children who spend their days there. It's unbelievable.
My room? Gray concrete walls, with the occasional grammar poster that I picked up on clearance at the school supply store three years ago or when a teacher was getting rid of things.
Except for two things: in my room, I had two very cool artists' renderings of The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings. Not the movie posters, mind you, but colorful and imaginative artwork. I was so excited when I ordered them off the Internet back when I started teaching. The kids love them and always speculate as to which characters each of the drawings represent.
Upon walking into my classroom this morning for the first time since June, however, I noticed immediately that they were gone. Gone! Everything else is right where I left it, including the thumb tacks that were holding the posters up.
I can't imagine the mindset of the person who would walk into someone's classroom and think, "Huh, those are pretty cool pictures, I think I'll take them." Anyway, I was pretty sad about it. Probably irrationally sad. I sent an all points bulletin for them over the school listserv.
Don't worry, I mentioned in my email that I realize and accept my status as a nerd, revealed in my begging for the return of my Lord of the Rings posters. Oh well. If my colleagues didn't know it already, it's time they learn.
So... if any of you come across some cool LotR posters, send them my way, will ya?
My room? Gray concrete walls, with the occasional grammar poster that I picked up on clearance at the school supply store three years ago or when a teacher was getting rid of things.
Except for two things: in my room, I had two very cool artists' renderings of The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings. Not the movie posters, mind you, but colorful and imaginative artwork. I was so excited when I ordered them off the Internet back when I started teaching. The kids love them and always speculate as to which characters each of the drawings represent.
Upon walking into my classroom this morning for the first time since June, however, I noticed immediately that they were gone. Gone! Everything else is right where I left it, including the thumb tacks that were holding the posters up.
I can't imagine the mindset of the person who would walk into someone's classroom and think, "Huh, those are pretty cool pictures, I think I'll take them." Anyway, I was pretty sad about it. Probably irrationally sad. I sent an all points bulletin for them over the school listserv.
Don't worry, I mentioned in my email that I realize and accept my status as a nerd, revealed in my begging for the return of my Lord of the Rings posters. Oh well. If my colleagues didn't know it already, it's time they learn.
So... if any of you come across some cool LotR posters, send them my way, will ya?
8.15.2006
Watch out, Lance Armstrong.
Ever heard the phrase, "Oh, it's just like riding a bike!"? It means something's easy, right? Like once you figure it out, you'll never not know how. When people say it, they're usually dismissing your concerns about whether or not you can do a particular activity.
I beg to differ with those folks.
If someone were to come up to me today and tell me that something was "just like riding a bike," I'd feel a sense of dread in the pit of my stomach. My face might go pale or my knees weak as I started to equate the upcoming event with something difficult, like, oh I don't know... hunting down and killing Osama bin Laden in the caves of Afghanistan.
Over the past year, I've been trying to find some form of physical activity that I actually enjoy, something that will help me to look forward to the time of exercise that I currently dread everyday. I have never been an athlete; I'm fairly uncoordinated, and I'm as slow as a turtle. I have nightmares about being lapped by the other kids as we ran around the playground in 3rd grade PE. I was always picked last for kickball teams, and I'm the only one of my sisters who has ever broken a bone. I've broken four.
In other words, finding a sport that I enjoy is gonna take some time.
My latest attempt is riding bikes. The last time I rode a bike I was in the 2nd grade and I fell off and broke a wrist and busted my chin. I can still remember sitting in my Brownies meeting with my chin all bandaged up and a cast on my arm. Not a fond memory.
However, I decided that I should give it another try. I mean, it's a bike, right? Little kids do it. Surely I can ride a bike. It'll be just like, uh, riding a bike. (ha!)
Two weeks later, and I'm just in from my third go 'round. My legs are trembly, my breathing is labored, and my heart is beating a million times per minute. Oh! and I have scrapes on my pinky finger and my forearm where I ran into a stone archway thing as I was trying to turn a sharp corner. Better my arm getting beat up than Cal's bike, right? Right.
I'm not giving up, though. No sir. I will keep at this in the same way that I've (miraculously) stuck with the gym for an entire year. I will press on with tennis, too, and sign up for a beginner's clinic at the local tennis center this Fall so that patient friends won't have to keep putting up with my emotional breakdowns on the courts as they try to teach me the basics. (Yeah, okay, so I cried the first time we went to play. Stop laughing.)
Maybe, one day, I'll buy a bike of my own. For now, I think I'll take a tylenol and a nap. My pinky finger hurts.
I beg to differ with those folks.
If someone were to come up to me today and tell me that something was "just like riding a bike," I'd feel a sense of dread in the pit of my stomach. My face might go pale or my knees weak as I started to equate the upcoming event with something difficult, like, oh I don't know... hunting down and killing Osama bin Laden in the caves of Afghanistan.
Over the past year, I've been trying to find some form of physical activity that I actually enjoy, something that will help me to look forward to the time of exercise that I currently dread everyday. I have never been an athlete; I'm fairly uncoordinated, and I'm as slow as a turtle. I have nightmares about being lapped by the other kids as we ran around the playground in 3rd grade PE. I was always picked last for kickball teams, and I'm the only one of my sisters who has ever broken a bone. I've broken four.
In other words, finding a sport that I enjoy is gonna take some time.
My latest attempt is riding bikes. The last time I rode a bike I was in the 2nd grade and I fell off and broke a wrist and busted my chin. I can still remember sitting in my Brownies meeting with my chin all bandaged up and a cast on my arm. Not a fond memory.
However, I decided that I should give it another try. I mean, it's a bike, right? Little kids do it. Surely I can ride a bike. It'll be just like, uh, riding a bike. (ha!)
Two weeks later, and I'm just in from my third go 'round. My legs are trembly, my breathing is labored, and my heart is beating a million times per minute. Oh! and I have scrapes on my pinky finger and my forearm where I ran into a stone archway thing as I was trying to turn a sharp corner. Better my arm getting beat up than Cal's bike, right? Right.
I'm not giving up, though. No sir. I will keep at this in the same way that I've (miraculously) stuck with the gym for an entire year. I will press on with tennis, too, and sign up for a beginner's clinic at the local tennis center this Fall so that patient friends won't have to keep putting up with my emotional breakdowns on the courts as they try to teach me the basics. (Yeah, okay, so I cried the first time we went to play. Stop laughing.)
Maybe, one day, I'll buy a bike of my own. For now, I think I'll take a tylenol and a nap. My pinky finger hurts.
8.10.2006
My summer, in bullet format.
- Books read: 6
- Best (or at least most thought-provoking) book read: Blue Like Jazz. I've been wanting to read it for some time, and I'm glad I did. Most of y'all probably read it long ago. I'd be interested to hear your thoughts.
- Best purchase: My lilac vintage dress, found while shopping in Athens with Rebecca, who convinced me (so rightly) to buy it. I love it.
- Most exciting event: Cal moving in down the street.
- Most fear-inducing event: Cal moving in down the street.
- Most convenient coincidence: Rebecca's plans to come to Athens on the same weekend that I wanted to go.
- # of Chick-fil-A Cookies-n-Cream milkshakes consumed: Countless
- # of gym visits: 3
- # of pounds gained: 5
- # of pounds to be lost before Courtney's fun, formal wedding reception on Sept 9: 10 (ha!)
- Strangest and cheesiest weekend: Yearbook Camp in Atlanta. I'm not lying. 3 days of Yearbook hype. Gag me with a spoon.
- Churches attended: 6, five of which were in Macon. The search for a Baptist/Presbyterian compromise continues.
- Trips planned: 7
- Trips taken: 3, not including those back and forth to Florida and Thomasville while the move was going on at the beginning of the summer. One to Athens, one to Atlanta (for the yearbook camp), and one to Sautee in NE Georgia to visit my grandparents.
- Regrets: None! I wouldn't have changed a thing!
2 months and 5 pounds later...
... I'm back.
How in the world did the summer pass so quickly? Last year, the time off was my chance to shine on this blog thing, as I had no real obligations and tons of adventures to share. This year, I lost my blogging inspiration, for some reason. Maybe I needed the break? I don't know.
I don't want to do the blah "here's what's been happening" blog that I seem to have gotten stuck on lately. I'm racking my brain trying to think of something creative to write about. I can't. Hmph.
School starts back for me Wednesday, and the kids will arrive the Monday following that. Usually this time of year, I'm looking forward to the routine of it all; this year, I'm not so sure. I am ready to get back to eating and working out normally... the summer and its excess has brought with it five pounds for me to carry around everywhere. Ugh.
However, it seems too early to start a new schoolyear. I didn't go see Kelly's new baby! I didn't make it to Jackson to see Meredith! Asheville never happened, although on one of the two trips I did take, I got to see Rebecca in Athens. Savannah remained unvisited, and last year's "Tour of Countries" by way of international restaurants with Beth was thus unrepeated.
You know, though? It's okay. I think maybe I needed a summer off from traveling; I traveled all year long last schoolyear, back and forth to Florida to see Cal. It's been nice being able to stay put in Macon for several weekends in a row. I've gotten several books read, which is a luxury. And how great has it been having Cal here?!? He bought a great house two doors down from me (unplanned, by the way), and we've spent the summer learning how to live so close to each other as he's gotten settled in.
We joke that his living two doors down and working at the same school could either be really good or really bad. Praying for really good. From 320 miles apart to 1/20 of a mile? Quite a transition. We're handling it well, so far, I think.
So, in less than a week I'll be back to the grind. The early waking hour will hurt, for sure, but it'll be nice to see the coworkers and friends that get put aside during the months off of work. I'm grateful for a job where I have this break, and I still don't know how you folks with "real jobs" do it. I'm hoping to stay caught up (and become more creative) with my posts as my life becomes more active in the next month.
For now... back to Regis and Kelly. Rick Springfield is singing "Jesse's Girl"!
How in the world did the summer pass so quickly? Last year, the time off was my chance to shine on this blog thing, as I had no real obligations and tons of adventures to share. This year, I lost my blogging inspiration, for some reason. Maybe I needed the break? I don't know.
I don't want to do the blah "here's what's been happening" blog that I seem to have gotten stuck on lately. I'm racking my brain trying to think of something creative to write about. I can't. Hmph.
School starts back for me Wednesday, and the kids will arrive the Monday following that. Usually this time of year, I'm looking forward to the routine of it all; this year, I'm not so sure. I am ready to get back to eating and working out normally... the summer and its excess has brought with it five pounds for me to carry around everywhere. Ugh.
However, it seems too early to start a new schoolyear. I didn't go see Kelly's new baby! I didn't make it to Jackson to see Meredith! Asheville never happened, although on one of the two trips I did take, I got to see Rebecca in Athens. Savannah remained unvisited, and last year's "Tour of Countries" by way of international restaurants with Beth was thus unrepeated.
You know, though? It's okay. I think maybe I needed a summer off from traveling; I traveled all year long last schoolyear, back and forth to Florida to see Cal. It's been nice being able to stay put in Macon for several weekends in a row. I've gotten several books read, which is a luxury. And how great has it been having Cal here?!? He bought a great house two doors down from me (unplanned, by the way), and we've spent the summer learning how to live so close to each other as he's gotten settled in.
We joke that his living two doors down and working at the same school could either be really good or really bad. Praying for really good. From 320 miles apart to 1/20 of a mile? Quite a transition. We're handling it well, so far, I think.
So, in less than a week I'll be back to the grind. The early waking hour will hurt, for sure, but it'll be nice to see the coworkers and friends that get put aside during the months off of work. I'm grateful for a job where I have this break, and I still don't know how you folks with "real jobs" do it. I'm hoping to stay caught up (and become more creative) with my posts as my life becomes more active in the next month.
For now... back to Regis and Kelly. Rick Springfield is singing "Jesse's Girl"!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
