leave it like it is

The other day...

2012-01-09T21:40:00.000-07:00

during my 6th period class who, by the way, have begun their final projects for the class and have, for the first time since I've known them, entered that zen-like work state which is rarely achieved in any class and less often by classes like 6th period, I had a visitor come and stand quietly in the doorway, his long board in hand, waiting for a chance to talk to me. It makes sense that he would stand there quietly since, in the years that I have known him he has never done anything louder than quietly, not even when he was standing with his head poked through a life-size mural we drew of King Henry XIII's body reading the lines, "I'm going to kill you and marry another woman," would he speak above a monotone whisper. His face is one I know very well, being a former student of mine, that is except for the part beneath the scraggly beard he always used to wear.

But besides coming to show me his shocking lack of goat-y beard and his newly torn and dangling earlobe due to excessive gaging (which I warned him about on many occasions), he had just come to say hi. What I haven't told you about him yet is that, since I've known him, this student has been homeless. Not living on the streets, thank God, but squatting in various friends homes or staying with his pushy girlfriend, her child, and large family.

On the one hand I was so happy to see him standing in my doorway, skinny as ever but looking less like an old man and more like the kid that he still is. I was happy to hear that he broke up with his girlfriend and was looking for a job. But there was also a genuine lack of activity in his life since he graduated. I asked him what he had done since then and he told me "nothing". I believe him.

His visit left me thinking about many things. It made me think of the role I play in my students' lives and the impact I have for good or bad. It made me think of my purpose as a teacher, the reasons I pound out lesson after lesson about wars and presidents and change. But most of all it made me think of my family and the rest of my very extensive support system. I have so many people in my life, people who care about me, people who give up time and money and effort for me, people who think of me and pray for me, people who know about my woes and my triumphs, people who I can cry to or laugh with, people I love and who love me back. I have been so abundantly blessed in an area in which he is so desperately lacking.

betrothed

2011-08-25T09:36:00.000-06:00

Betrothed is my favorite of the many words that describe my current state of being. There are plenty to choose from: engaged, promised, pledged, affianced, plighted, espoused, attached. I suppose they all serve the same purpose when telling people that I will be getting married, except for plighted which probably doesn't mean anything to most people being such an archaic word.

Engaged is the most common word, I suppose, although it is my least favorite. The truth is I am incredibly engaged right now.. engaged with work, engaged with planning a wedding, engaged with trying to keep my body fed, clothing clean, and room tidy. The word reminds me of all the things I have to do and that isn't the way I like to think about Scott and my relationship with him, as something on my to do list for October 7th.

That is why I prefer betrothed. The origins of this 13th century word include bi- "thoroughly" + treowde "truth, a pledge". That is how I feel about Scott, thoroughly pledged. I didn't expect to ever feel that way about anyone, but I couldn't be happier that I have found it in a person who not only accepts my love but returns it. Scott is my best friend and the best part of my day, for time and all eternity.

Now is the part where you tell me how happy you are for me that I am betrothed and ask what you can do to help now that I am engaged :)

a few of the meals of Guatemala

2011-07-04T23:45:00.000-06:00

And, of course, the woman who made it all possible, Dona Maria.

Doorways.

2011-06-25T23:50:00.000-06:00

Doorways in Antigua, Guatemala

On Moving

2011-05-08T12:32:00.002-06:00

For the past two years I have lived in the basement.

Base.

1 The lowest part or edge of something, esp. the part on which it rests or is supported. 2 a conceptual structure or entity on which something draws or depends. 3 the main place where a person works or stays. 4 a main or important element or ingredient to which other things are added. 5 use as a point from which something can develop. 6 without moral principles; ignoble.

From Old French bas, from medieval Latin bassus "short". The senses in late Middle English included low, short and of inferior quality; from the latter arose a sense low on the social scale, menial and hence reprehensibly cowardly, selfish, or mean.

Now I live on ground level. My room has two very large windows and with one small window in my closet.

Window.

1 an opening in the wall or roof of a building or vehicle that is fitted with glass or other transparent material in a frame to admit light or air and allow people to see out. 2 a thing resembling such an opening in form or function. 3 an interval or opportunity for action.

From Old Norse vindauga, from vinder 'wind' + auga 'eye'

source: that dictionary that pops up when I right-click on a word and then click "look up in dictionary".

sudden changes

2011-04-26T18:13:00.007-06:00

This morning, on my way to work, I drove past a full blooming cherry blossom tree. As I drove past the tree, a sudden flurry of white flowed toward my windshield. I assumed it was a delightful morning spritz of cherry blossoms, but, as it turns out, it was a strange dark snow storm flattening out my spring morning. As I drove closer and closer to work I passed through the curtains of grey moisture, watching, with each successive glance, the blue April sky thinning and disappearing into November.

Sudden changes happen. Your flip flop breaks and you are left awkwardly shoeless. You feel sick and must quickly excuse yourself, leaving people glancing and wondering in your wake if you are alright. You discover your landlord hasn't been paying the bank by an eviction notice on your door. There is little we can say or do to return our lives to the trajectory we were on before the change. Before your car smashed into the car in front of you or before you learned that bit of information that changed everything.

The good news is that, as intelligent beings, we have a developed phrase to help us cope with these sudden changes. Well, that's life. We say those words the same way we say, "That's technology," when our fancy smart phone insists that we are touching the screen when, in fact, we are not. Or like we say, "That's Aunt Janice," after receiving yet another ridiculous pair of birthday socks whose destiny, like all the others, is to be humored, and eventually, discarded. This phrase allows us to resign ourselves to the greater forces: technology, Aunt Janice, and especially life, that rascal.

I remember a time I spotted, from a ways off, a dense storm cloud dropping heavy rain ahead of me in an expansive valley somewhere in the void between Colorado and Utah. I distractedly drove through that valley keeping one eye on the baleful storm, anxiously anticipating the clashing of our two paths. Just before the sun gave way to the pelting beads of rain, I was ready: wipers on, hands at ten and two. I was laughing as I hit the wall of heavy, pelting rain and hail like one laughs as the roller coast car drops over a precipice, delighted at the suddenness of it. That's life.

the archives

2011-04-14T14:27:00.001-06:00

I was organizing old pictures today from my archive (using this word makes me feel legit) and found some that I like. Here is a peek into the archive (again, legitimacy).

scenes from the airport

2011-04-13T09:25:00.002-06:00

Airports are such interesting places.

One time I was running to catch a flight, yes, literally running through the airport and some of the airport workers pointed at me and laughed. Can you blame them? I had the thought to flip them off as I hurried to the security line, but I was so frantic, heart pounding, to make my plane on time that I decided against it. Later I realized that watching someone run through the airport might actually be sort of funny.

In airports there are talkers and keep-to-yourself-ers. Most people tend to stand in lines and sit in seats preferring to ignore the blood-pumping, breathing, lump of flesh in the next seat over. Despite the fact that airports are a center of human transportation and in large groups we board sleek aircrafts together, spend hours in the same confined space, and congregate around the spinning baggage claims together, airports are very solitary places.

And then, of course, there are the talkers. These are special souls who create human connections in airports. Welcome or unwelcome, they invite themselves into your lives, they strike up conversations about places and jobs, they offer you food from their purses and bags, they comment on your attire and ask you to do favors for them.

The talkers I met at the airport today were an adorable old couple headed to Portland to visit family. The old man commented on my Toms, telling me I had chosen well for the shoe removal ceremony at the security station. The old woman talked of the staggering of spring breaks in schools this year and somehow we ended up talking about the potential government shutdown. You never know what you are going to get with a talker. Once I got invited to dinner by a Filipino talker sitting near me on a plane.

The most interesting part of the talker encounter is leaving that person, walking away forever, never to make contact again. Do you say goodbye or simply walk away? Do you walk with them to the baggage claim or stop at the bathroom to avoid such walk? Do you thank them for the conversation, tell them how nice it was to meet them? Do you ask their name or just smile at the nameless face you shared a few minutes of your life with? Are there social rules for these situations and, if there are, do talkers even prescribe to those social rules?

important decisions

2011-03-30T23:54:00.000-06:00

Sometimes you are faced with important decisions. Decisions that could have some sort of impact on your life in the future. In these moments you must be decisive and stand by our choices come what may.

Like the time you are driving home to Provo from class in Salt Lake and around the time you are passing Lehi you realize that you have an rather pressing urge to visit the ladies room. Ruling out the option of soiling yourself, you are left with the choice of wasted time or treachery. This is a moment of decision. Do you, even though you really don't want to, stop and visit a gas station, adding to your already lengthy commute when it is the first time in months that you have been released from class early and you just really want to get home? Or, do you, despite your better judgement, start driving a little faster and turn the music up really loud to drown out the increasing pain as you pass exit after exit containing hundreds of toilets that don't belong to you while risking an expensive traffic infraction ticket the receiving of which would delay even further the release of your intestinal tention? Do you, like some, let a mild expletive fly as you run into traffic only a a few miles from home and then quickly repent and say a prayer of comfort and self-control as you endure the tedious 10-mile-an-hour stretch? And do you find that as you approach your driveway everything seems to get more desperate and the final dash leaves you feeling like that was a really close call... too close?

I like to think that I choose treachery every time because I am an adventurous soul with the heart of a pioneer, ready to endure hardship and danger even amidst physical and psychological anguish rather than assuming, like some others might, that I choose treachery because I am reckless.

the pants fairy

2011-02-26T18:11:00.003-07:00

Today I found 12 dollars in the pocket of the pants I put on. It has been a while since I wore these pants; maybe a month. They are a little too long and sag a little without a belt, but that is beside the point.

Twelve. Twelve whole dollars. That is not nothing, ya know. Even though I understand that this cash was mine before finding it in the pocket, it still somehow feels new; like somehow the universe is paying me for wearing these pants.

I think maybe this is the closest thing to the Tooth Fairy that really exist. The Pants Fairy.

Any suggestions on how to spend the magical cash?

maps

2011-02-13T15:25:00.000-07:00

I love maps. I collect them. A map can say, "look at me, this is how the world is." And yet maps have bias and can only show one perspective, blocking out other points of view. But just like each person has a point of view so each map takes on a persona. A map may end up telling you more about itself than the piece of earth featured.

Just like I am drawn to people, trying to understand their point of view and situation, I am fascinated by maps and the circumstances of their creation. Maps are so beautiful for all their one-sidedness just like people are beautiful for all their imperfections.

This last one is called Mapstract. It was painted by a colleague of mine. It is amazing. Thanks Jarren.

a list

2011-02-08T23:38:00.000-07:00

1. a free orange
2. not splitting my pants this time
3. postcards
4. friends and soup. good combo
5. reminder texts
6. people caring about other people
7. entertaining students
9. deviled egg cupcakes
10. hugs, the arm kind, not the chocolate kind
11. that nice butcher lady who cubed all 18 pounds of ham for us
12. my bed

My new roommate

2011-02-04T12:21:00.004-07:00

I was asked by one of my colleagues today to post on my blog more often. I don't really have anything ready to post that has been happening lately, but while I was contemplating the idea I stumbled across this post I wrote last year sometime and never posted. Since writing this post I have moved out of the "lap of luxury" (my grandmother's condo) into a delightfully small basement apartment where I painted my bedroom walls gray. I've always wanted gray walls. Does that make me a sad and depressing person?

So here it is, my old post from a year ago -ish.

As most of you probably know, I live with two roommates. One is my spunky, fun cousin, Melinda and the other is my 83 year-old Grandmother, Gram. Our condo has recently had a new addition however; one of Gram's dear friends and sister-in-law, Amelia, who recently had a surgery on her wrist and has taken up temporary residence with us. Living with two amazing and dear older ladies is a totally different experience than living with amazing and dear one. Allow me to explain.

Just Gram: I am the closest thing in the house to a teenage boy, apparently, which means that I take on the role of garbage disposal of all leftovers. I am, however, a bit picky about my leftovers so I find myself occasionally taking the intended dish to work and offering it to my co-workers or slyly slipping it into the trashcan after a few days. Don't look down on me, no one is going to eat them so why the need to wait for them to mold before throwing them out.

Gram and Amelia: Now there is another person to feed leftovers to. One much less picky than I. Hooray for not wasting food!

Just Gram: Occasionally she uses a cane to get around when her back is giving her trouble, poor thing.

Gram and Amelia:

Gram: Do you have a collapsible cane?

Amelia: Yes! In fact I have three canes, one for my car, one for home and then my collapsible cane, but the trouble is I always forget to bring my collapsible cane when I need a cane that will collapse.

In instances like this one, I find I am being educated for the future when I may find myself in situations where I need a collapsible cane. I am not sure what situation that might be, but since Amelia moved in, things like this have been on my mind.

Just Gram: My weakness for Oreos is expoited daily. I like Oreos. Gram knows this about me and other of her grandchildren. As a result, she keeps the cookie jar full at all times, and I can't keep my mits out of that cookie jar, hard as I may try.

Gram and Amelia: Amelia fills much of her time doing puzzles. Puzzles, like Oreos, are a true weakness of mine, and, like Oreos, I have a hard time keeping my hands off of them. It's not really bragging when I say that I am amazing at puzzles because, let's face it, no one really cares. It's more of a quirk than a resume builder. So, with Amelia, came a new temptation to my life: to finish Amelia's puzzles after she went to bed. The unfinished puzzles sat taunting me on the table after Amelia had gone to bed. I would be lying if I didn't sneak a piece or two into place while no one was looking.
Winnie the Pooh had heffalumps and woozles. I have Oreos and unfinished puzzles. To each his own.

road trippin'

2011-01-06T11:53:00.006-07:00

So much of our lives we spend driving our impressively powerful transportation machines round and round in circles. Home, school, work, home, school, work, home, school, grocery store, work, home. But every once in a while we set out in a totally new trajectory.

Even though I've driven back and forth from Denver to Utah countless times, the movement of traveling never fails to amaze. With the simple pressure of my right foot, or even just the flick of the cruise control button, I can travel through the harsh terrain that has killed many a traveler before me in their wagons and worn out shoes.

There is a light blue sign that has been alluring me for months as I've driven back and forth for the recent holidays. The sign features a picture of a columbine, the Colorado State flower, and the words Scenic Byway, Next Right. I don't know what the word byway means. My ignorance of that word kept me from taking the next right after that sign multiple times.

Instead of looking up the word in the dictionary or pulling the atlas out of the back pocket of my seat, I just decided to turn there on my way home for Christmas. I turned because I really wanted to explore. Because I was starting to regret the times I didn't turn. I turned because I do know what the word scenic means.

It was probably 10 miles before I realized that byway doesn't mean alternate way, like I had hoped, it means out of the way. Thanks to the GPS on my miraculous hand-held, electronic fount of all knowledge, I was able to navigate my way back. I was tempted, once I reached my high speeds back on the freeway, to be frustrated at my lost time while being lured from the route by a pretty blue sign with a pretty word on it. But the truth is that I don't really regret turning because 1) I satisfied a hungry curiosity, 2) I found the word I went looking for and the one I didn't, and 3) I used my ultra-fast transportation machine to travel outside the circle: a modern convenience and privilege.

Lightening never strikes in the same place twice.

2010-12-02T23:00:00.004-07:00

That may be true, I don't actually know. I do know that one time lightning struck a tree in the backyard leaving a rather large dent in house. But my mom had the tree cut down so now we'll never know if lightning might've victimized the same tree again.

But all of that is beside the point, other things do strike twice in the same place. Like, for example, hammers, or very discontented workers.

For me it is the locking the keys in the car. Two times in the same place.

The first time was after taking a nap in my car with the seat rolled way back. I sometimes like to sleep in my car, mainly just because it is mine and I can sleep in it if I want to, like a portable home, only less comfortable and private. Anyways, when I got up to go back to class the keys were apparently still resting peacefully, and later tauntingly, on the driver's seat.

While I was waiting to be rescued, sitting on the frozen blue bench in front of the school my Assistant Principle pulled up, rolling down his window, and asked, "is everything ok?"

"Yes," I told him, "someone is coming to rescue me."

"Do you want to wait inside?"

"No, I'll be alright, I have mace in my bag."

pause.

"I was referring to the weather."

"oh."

awkwardness.

"Well I think I'll be alright, thanks."

The second time was one evening a week or so later when I was just stopping by to pick up a laptop charger from my classroom. A quick dash, in and out. A moment later, I stared through the window, charger in hand, at the keys on the seat right next to the purse with the spare key still in it from the previous incident. Really?

I wasn't quite sure what to do at this point. Thankfully, a coworker of mine had a brilliant idea: combing the streets for a cop. Cops can break into cars, right? Plus, we teach at the alternative high school, with which all cops in Provo are familiar. We thought they might have mercy on a few teachers who choose to put up with those kids every day. Surprisingly, we found three cop cars within a minute or two of searching. Not surprising, they were handcuffing a former student of ours.

We were able to convince one of the officers to come help us out. First he made sure I wouldn't be upset if he damaged my car in any way (I didn't mention to him that I already can't unlock the passenger door from the outside because of another incident that happened only days after purchasing the car).

The battle of wills was on. The cop or the car, who could hang in there longer? Thankfully, our fierce cop was way more intense than the safety features on my car.

Both times I was in the same parking space. I don't park there any more.

School.

2010-11-07T20:05:00.003-07:00

Sometimes I feel like my life is absorbed with school. I teach school, I go to school. I plan lessons, I write papers. I grade, I sit in my 4-hour long class. You might think that this life becomes tedious, exhausting, even dull. Some days, you would be right. But other days you would be totally wrong.

Example 1: What could be more hilarious than watching unmotivated teenagers make an epic Civil War film. Two weeks of kids pretending to fight using brown rolled up paper as guns and reenacting the assassination of Abraham Lincoln as John Wilkes Booth makes her getaway limping through the halls of the school. Not to mention the attempted Southern accents; try Southern Russia Justin.

Example 2: What is the government program designed to help former slaves get started with a new life after the Civil War?
correct answer: 'forty acres and a mule"
my student's response: 'forty acres and two whales"

Example 3: What do you call a craftsman that works with stone?
correct answer: a mason
my student's answer: a stoner

dull? I think not

Hare Krishna Hare Krishna

2010-10-19T23:10:00.004-06:00

Tonight my roommate Maggie and I went to the Hare Krishna temple in Spanish Fork for yoga. I'm not so much a yoga enthusiast (since I'm not very flexible nor very strong) as I am a new-cultural-experience enthusiast. As the sign instructed, we took our tennis shoes off at the door and placed them near the few pairs of worn leather sandals already removed. We timidly walked into the quiet temple to be greeted by an older man with an old pair of headphones and an apron walking out of the kitchen area who we later found out is a radio personality in Japan on a short hiatus in Utah. We told him we were here for yoga and he didn't seem to know what we were talking about but pointed us upstairs to check and see, "somethings going on up there." We walked up to find four or five people sitting down on rugs in a large room with an ornate marble floor and vaulted ceiling with a few beautiful shrines along the walls. There seemed to be some sort of service going on but a couple gestured us up the stairs and we listened to the last minute or so of some teaching before getting started with yoga.

It is a different experience to do yoga at a gym for exercise and doing yoga at a Hare Krishna temple. Less emphasis on moving around and getting fit, more focus on mental control and breathing in good energy. Our instructor could do things with his tall muscular body that seemed frankly impossible, but all the time he reminded us how many times he had to fall in the process of learning. My body, while shaking and rejecting the new movements, felt invigorated and relaxed. At one point we had our bodies in some squatting pose I don't remember the name of and our teacher had us place our hands near the marble floor without touching it. The colorful stones radiated their cool temperature to my hands. A little later we were joined by four sweet older Bhutanis for our singing meditation. We all gathered on the rug near our instructor and his accordion-organ-like instrument and chanted and sang along with the small group. The woman next to Maggie and I must have been in her 70s and probably didn't speak much English, if any. And yet, we sat clapping our hands and singing with her in probably the only moment in which our two lives would ever intersect.

Maggie and I walked away from the experience feeling welcomed, enlightened, and definitely sore. The people were so happy to include us into the yoga experience. Never once treating us like the outsiders we were. So we will practice our crows pose and make sure to catch the buffet before for dinner next time!

crazy about bears

2010-10-17T21:53:00.012-06:00

My mother recently bought three old houses full of mice, mold, and "potential" right on The Big Thompson River. Last week she took me to meet her across-the-river neighbors (we'll call them Sally and Tom Kodiak to protect the guilty) who many years ago took on a similar project by buying their small, flood-damaged home and turning it into a little sanctuary. Just before we left Sally called with an urgent message, "The bears are here! Come quick." My mother had mentioned to me that these were the people who feed the bears. But neither she nor I had any concept of what we were about to see.

The home is nearly as charming as its occupants: an older couple as eccentric as they come. These are the type of people who come out to greet you and touch you more than the typical stranger: a hand on the shoulder or elbow to say hello and an arm around the back as you walk in the door. The second you walk into the house you are overwhelmed with artifacts from the Kodiaks' lives. The first, and one of the more beautiful, was the piano: a rectangular instrument dating back to the Civil War with small yellowing keys and huge ornate legs. Being a history dork, I was hooked.

The house is full. With only 1000 square feet of space you would be shocked at the amount of "things" the Kodiaks have inside. Each item endears you more to the couple who loving pieced together this masterpiece of a home. Almost every inch of the walls are covered with frames because Sally is "crazy about framing things." She is also "crazy about the river" and "just crazy about rocks". Not just any rocks but the geodite rocks that you crack open to find gems that "look like sugar coated licorice."

Turns out Sally is also crazy about bears. Before I had enough time to really check out all the amazing items on the walls, floors, and shelving, we were rushed out to the back window to see the bear. As I walked to the window I was expecting to maybe see a bear in the distance or in a tree if we saw a bear at all. My parents and I lined up in front of the large back window and gasped in unison as they flicked on the back porch light. There, a mere 3 or 4 feet outside the house was a wild bear about the size of a shetland pony.

The Kodiaks apparantly have a routine of laying out three large piles of dog food to feed to the bears who make nightly visits to their backyard. Previously, I had only seen bears at the zoo and the taxidermy museum. Here, I found myself feet away from "Brownie", a bear covered in fuzzy matted brown fur with a thin face and black eyes. Before I can rip my eyes from the wild bear, I am distracted by the door opening and sweet Sally, who is, as we know, "just crazy about bears" throwing out an entire loaf of bread, a few slices at a time. She must have thrown out three entire loaves to Brownie before she mentioned that he would be leaving soon because "momma and baby" would be coming. Then it clicked in my head: three piles of food, three bears.

After several minutes of enthrallment over the bears, I went back to my careful inspection of the house. I perused the framed treasures on the wall one by one. A picture of Sally and Tom in Madrid. A magnificent chalk drawing of an Indian chief in full headdress. A set of doctor kit tools from the 1700s bought at a flea market, found in an Indian dwelling, and originating from the Hudson Bay Company: one of the first groups sent from england to trade with the Indians.

Hidden amongst the plethora of wall hangings was one artifact that truly amazed me. It was the framed original discharge certificate of Tom's great great grandfather from the Union Army during the Civil War. The fading ink and hand-colored pictures were like nothing I had seen so close. I was enchanted.

Moving on you could find anything on the wall, from a personally signed letter from General Eisenhower to Tom's mother near the end of World War II to Terry's old railroad stopwatch from his years working on the Santa Fe Railroad as a fireman. After the tour we settled down in the living room at the foot of their warm smoldering fireplace to wait for momma and baby bear to arrive.

Every few minutes Sally would walk up to the window and flick on the porch light, peek out the window, then say, "Crummy Buttons!" when they failed to appear. Eventually we forgot about checking for the bears and got wrapped up in conversation. We talked about their home, their history and their many travels. Sally teared up as she talked about visiting Ephesus, Turkey where Jesus and the Apostles once walked.

Just before getting ready to leave we checked one last time for the other bears and this time they were there, momma and baby, just chomping away at the remaining dog food. After a few minutes the baby bear walked all the way up to the house and stood up, placing its large front paw on the window pane, now only inches from us with its protective mother standing a foot or two behind. Frightened and amazed, we neared the window and touched the place where the bear's warm claw was fogging the glass, as if in a gesture of good will from one species to another.

The shutting of our car doors was like waking up from a dream of sorts. A dream of wild bears as mild as dogs, expensive framed collections next to fishing trip pictures on the wall, dangling vines and bear-clawed pumpkins. We sat in the car for a few seconds just waking up before we turned on the car and drove back across the river.

i decided to blog again after my 11 month hiatus

2010-10-17T21:51:00.002-06:00

the end.

Sing-a-long

2009-12-13T22:24:00.009-07:00

Last night I attended a Messiah Sing-a-long held in my area. As people walked into the chapel, I couldn't help but think to myself, Who are these people? Are there really this many people who want to spend their Sunday evening singing classical music at the top of their lungs with a bunch of strangers? I mean really, who goes to sing-a-longs anyways? Aren't sing-a-longs generally associated with some sort of cheerful bouncy ball jumping from word to word during some type of princess cartoon? Are there really this many normal-looking adults who would willingly give up their time to plan, practice for, orchestrate, publicize, and attend a sing-a-long? Really? But before long I remembered that I, too, was in attendance at this sing-a-long. Me. A person who is admittedly a dork about maps and the history channel and puzzles and maybe a few other things, but, for all intents and purposes, totally normal.

My experience with sing-a-longs is more extensive than I'm particularly comfortable admitting. Beside the Messiah last night, I have also attended a Sound of Music sing-a-long and a Newsies sing-a-long. I may or may not have also participated with my nieces in the previously mentioned bouncing ball sing-a-long variety whilst babysitting once. So last night I brought the matter under serious reflection. Why?

Why do people go to sing-a-longs? Why do normal people like me attend sing-a-longs? After some careful introspection and consideration, it seems to me that a sing-a-long is simply an excuse for people who might often be found in their rooms or cars or bathrooms belting out lyrics (or other sounds if the lyrics are unknown) to do what they spend so much time practicing but in public and with other like-minded souls. Sing-a-longs are different than even karaoke because at least in karaoke the person has a desire to be share their talent (or lack there of) and to be seen by others doing it. However, sing-a-long participants do not wish to be singled out, but rather disappear in the crowd. I can imagine walking into a sing-a-long not knowing what was going on and thinking, Who are they singing for? or possibly, Why are all the men on one side of the room and the women on the other? or even, That is the WORST choir I have ever heard! But what non-sing-a-long-participants don't know is that there is a validation that comes when you are standing in a crowd of people all shamelessly trying to hit the same high G that you are trying to hit, and all failing just as miserably as you. All of the aspiration in the room makes up for the lack of talent.

So you may sneer at the person singing their heart out in the car next to you at the stoplight, but just remember... I was totally standing next to them at the sing-a-long yesterday and, in the words of one of the 'play-a-long' violinists from last night, we "raised the roof"!

No boys allowed.

2009-11-22T21:02:00.012-07:00

Have you ever noticed that women tend to create events and occasions where men are not entirely welcome? You know, the places where women go to bond, gab, compliment, laugh, commiserate, complain (admit it, we totally do), weep, be ridiculous and/or all of the above. Typically, in the past, I have avoided these gatherings not feeling like I was not 'woman' enough to join in all of the previously mentioned activities. I identified more with the 'young woman' or even simply 'girl' category. But here is some proof that I am finally becoming a grown up woman.

1. I own high heels. Not just one pair.. oh no, I totally own two pairs of really cute high heels. I may only rarely wear them, but sometimes I do and on those days especially, I feel like a grown up.

2. I went to a conference a few weeks ago called Time Out for Women with my sisters and aunts and grandma and about 3,000 other women. The conference had some spectacular speakers and true to form I did bond, gab, laugh, and weep during the weekend with some truly amazing women in my life! Ironically the name of this women's conference gets it's name from a sports reference. If I ever put on a conference for women I'll call it something more womanly like "meno-Pause for Women."

3. Saturday night I had a "girl's night" with my mother, and sisters here in Colorado. We went to a play called Girls Only downtown. The play was pretty funny and, if you can imagine, involved much gabbing, commiserating, complaining, being ridiculous, and of course bonding. Even the rather tipsy, fem-mullet-sporting woman sitting near our table felt bonded to us instantly and made sure to laugh riotously in our direction throughout the play making us all a bit uncomfortable. But it was still a great time.

4. I am entering my "late twenties" pretty soon here and, although I know that is still young in the grand scheme of things, it feels a little bit like I'm entering a new stage. Late twenties. Just admit it, it is different than early twenties.

What did you expect...

2009-11-02T22:12:00.004-07:00

I am a geography teacher after all. And yes, that map is pretty darn accurate. I know you were wondering. After more than an hour of working on that $5 sweatshirt it better be!

But check out these other not-quite-as-awesome-as-mine-but-still-pretty-cute costumes..

Ok, so they are a little bit cuter than me, but only a little. And man, it was hard to get pictures of these sugar-high little kids!

Things I learned in my recent trip to Seattle

2009-10-19T21:17:00.009-06:00

Seattle is named after an Indian chief who received an equivalent of $400,000 to use his name for the city.
The Space Needle, built for the World’s Fair, is 605 feet tall and made out of Legos.
Once a year in Fremont, a suburb of Seattle, people unite to ride bicycles in the nude. Thankfully not in October.
You can learn lots of cool facts about Seattle from a hilarious older man with a wild assortment of hats who drives a Duck*
“You better try one of everything, just to be sure.” Words of wisdom from an old lady holding a massive chocolate-coated éclair and wearing a shower cap to keep her bouffant dry from the rain.
Stay away from old men carrying craw fish.
There is a wall near Pike Place market that is covered in people's chewed up gum. Intriguing, disgusting.
There are enough transvestites working in Seattle’s service industry that somehow every time I come into town, Katie and I are helped by one.
Consequently, I learned that transvestites typically give great service. Thanks Elizabeth for the tip on the French Onion Soup, it was delicious!
Rain can't ruin a trip to visit a good friend.
Random people dance on the street in Seattle.
Random people on the street in Seattle dance better than me.

*A Duck is a large vehicle which functions both as a bus and a boat. Ducks are used exclusively by the Duck Tour Company that provides a fun and exciting tour of Seattle by land and by sea!

If you want to see all the pictures from my trip click here

When I'm 16 I will get to have a lunchbox -Nina

2009-10-12T22:40:00.005-06:00

Today I got one of those messages in my voice mail box where the person calls you but they don't know it and so you are listening to whatever is happening in the near vicinity of their phone for as long as your phone will let the message continue. A lot of times you hear nothing but the scuffling noises of a phone in a pocket. This one was much better. I can only imagine that on my nieces, who were all hanging around apparently, got a hold of her phone and started pushing buttons like they used to do with my phone all the time. The message was basically 5 minutes of my sister looking at a map of the United States with my 5 year old niece, Ella. "Here is Colorado where we live... Do you know where Florida is?... Here's Utah... " etc.

I wish I could've been there too. But I guess I sort of was. :)

I miss you Ella, Nina, and Phoebe!

Parkour

2009-09-27T20:59:00.006-06:00

For any of you Office fans out there I have a little treat for you. On the season premiere of the show a few weeks ago the boss, Michael and a few other characters from the show open the first episode by doing Parkour. Parkour is explained in the video but basically is getting from point A to point B as creatively as possible.

If you haven't seen it you should watch the original before you watch our version of it.

Anyways, a few of my co-workers at Independence decided to surprise me in the middle of 7th period with some Parkour moves, which I joined in on of course.

The funniest part of this all was after the video turns off and I turn to my bewildered class and try to explain to a bunch of non-Office-watching teenagers why their teachers have just made a fool of themselves for no apparent reason.

School Days

2009-09-14T21:05:00.005-06:00

A few weeks ago I came home from work to find my living room full of the silver-haired ladies in my grandmother's weekly movie group. My Gram, of course, invited me in and proceeded to shower me with ridiculous amounts of praise and to mention every accomplishment I've ever achieved. By the time the group of dear older ladies was through flattering me they had convinced me to sing at their next monthly "condo ladies" meeting. The lady in charge of the meeting informed us all of the theme, "school days", and almost immediately several of the ladies began waving their adorable arthritic fingers in the air and singing first lines of songs I'd never heard of about school. I couldn't wipe the smile from my face.

On the day of the meeting I arrived at the clubhouse a few minutes after my Gram and was easily identified as a newcomer to the club. After the usual orders of business were taken care of, "the school marm" got up and welcomed us to the 1941 school house in rural Pennsylvania. As a teacher, I couldn't help but compare her portrait of an early one-room schoolhouse to my own classroom experience. So much has changed. No more do children drink from a common ladle out of bucket sharing communicable diseases freely. No more do children recite the Lord's Prayer and read from the Bible before classes each day. No more do children tremble at the thought of the "hick'ry stick" hidden in the cupboard. But as they say, some things never change. I believe her words were, "The 8th grade boys were the bane of a schoolteacher's existence."

After we all felt transported into the schoolhouse and a few costume changes, one of which included one of those silly pairs of glasses with a big pasty nose and strange poky eyebrows, we had a short poetry reading. The final reading was a rather interesting and supposedly humorous poem from who knows when whose punch line contained the words "sex bomb." I wasn't entirely sure if that was considered to be funny to these classy older ladies so I chuckled rather awkwardly as they laughed at the poem that I clearly didn't understand correctly.

Finally came my turn to sing. I stood up anxiously, feeling my ears turning bright red like they always do when I sing in front of groups but determined to delight these delightful women. I began and was pleased at the reminder that, for these women, every song is a sing-a-long. Many women's lips mirrored mine as I reintroduced them, like old friends, to the songs they knew a long time ago. After the first number we all sang together for a few songs, one of which inspired a lady in the first row to stand up and perform some sort of jig which I'm not entirely sure I understood, but I definitely approved. There's nothing quite like some Velcro orthopedic shoes and a nice floral print dancing around to make you feel young.

As I drove to school later that day I couldn't help but wish that my classroom would be full of these ladies every day instead of "the bane of my existence." I enjoy teaching in the 21st Century, but I miss that 1941 classroom.

High Pressure Hose

2009-09-01T22:15:00.002-06:00

Today I got to use a high pressure hose to help clean the cannery. It was really fun. Firefighters have all the luck.

Handwriting Analysis

2009-08-28T00:03:00.002-06:00

Today I went to a school fundraising carnival at a local elementary school with my aunt, cousins, and their visiting friend from England around my age, Emily. My aunt handed Emily and I a $20 bill she wanted to donate to the school and told us to go enjoy ourselves. Looking around at the bouncy castles, face painting, and various beanbag-toss-type games we started wonder if we could spend a whole $20 at a carnival of this sort and keep our dignity. A ten year old would have been in heaven. We wandered around for a while longer until we came upon one booth that looked interesting. There was a larger woman sitting at the table talking seriously to an 8 year old. A sign on her table announced "Handwriting Analysis, 7 tickets". This was it, the only way that we could spend our tickets that didn't involve some sort of balloon hat or making some kid cry in the bouncy castle.

My cousin, Jon, saw us in line and told us that it was "a waste of tickets," and that we "could pretty much buy a whole meal" at the concession stand with that many tickets... but determined, we decided to stick it out. As we drew nearer in the line we realized that this woman was very serious about her handwriting analysis, unlike the two frustrated balloon animal girls who kept popping balloons on even the simplest of balloon designs (I've done a bit of balloon animal creating once upon a time). The mother and daughter right before us in line basically left the table in tears, dazzled at this woman's ability to accurately interpret their signatures into a meaningful message complete with personality traits, difficult experiences in the past, and personal advice for the future. And in only 5 minutes. Wow.

I sat down at the table and tried to scribble my name on the sticky note pad as normal as possible under the circumstances. I'm not sure what I was expecting, for her to get it right or to blow it, but after my 5 minute analysis I walked away a little surprised. She certainly had gathered a lot of information from those few messy letters. Not all of it was totally accurate from my point of view, but the crazy thing was that a lot of it was correct. Is that just some sort of trick or is there actually something to this handwriting analysis stuff? Fact or in the same class as tarot card readers with long painted acrylic nails and the turban-wearing, crystal-ball-reading women named Lorna who sit in dim tents at carnivals. The woman's card says that she is a "Certified F.B.I. Instructor", and I guess that means something.

Abuelita

2009-08-09T22:38:00.005-06:00

The suggestion has been made, and I totally agree, that maybe my blog is a little bit dull. So in an effort to liven things up a bit, here is a little story about my trip inthe bus back from El Salvador to Guatemala City before coming home:

Travelling solo has its perks, but I did enjoy being dropped off at the bus station by Rachel, Ryan and Ashley who made sure "I made it on the bus ok". As I sat in my aisle seat, I felt bad for whoever was going to have to sit next to "the gringa" as I'm sure they were all thinking as well.. how awkward sitting next to a gringa. I had my fingers crossed that it would either be a female or someone really sleepy, glad that the young chicos who'd been looking at me in the waiting area were sitting far away. After most of the bus was filled, this adorable little grandma got on the bus and walked right up to me. YAY, a sweet abuelita to sit next to, PERFECT! She didn't even bother to ask me if I spoke spanish and just started rambling under her breath about how she wanted to have a safe trip and how she was glad the bus was leaving close to on time. She was mumbling so much that I was still listening closely trying to understand her when I realized she was saying a prayer and started to cross herself. Awkward. But she didn't seem to mind.

She spend most of the first couple of hours fussing with things in her extremely large bag full of smaller plastic bags filled with fruit, bread, or clothing. She even had a small plastic bag which held her passport which she got out a number of times to examine. Things started getting a little more exciting as we got to the El Salvador/Guatemala border. The first thing that happens when you pull over at the border is that border officer gets on the bus and tells you that it shouldn't take very long but they will need to examine your identification. My abuelita made sure to tell it that it was fine, and to take his time. After everyone has been checked and they pulled those chicos from the bus station off the bus and walked them into the station for some reason, the cambiadors come on the bus. About 15 men crowd onto the bus squishing passed each other in the ailse waving huge stacks of bills in everyones faces asking for who needs to change from dollars to quetzales. My sweet abuelita changed three dollars for about 24 quetzales and stuck them in a plastic bag, then in her bra. After the cambiadors trickle off the bus the women and young girls pile one the bus. 20 to 25 of them carrying sodas, pupusas, snacks, fruit, even pots of chicken and rice for a proper meal if desired. These women smash themselves in the aisle of the bus, one of the rather "well endowed" women really had to squeeze and when my abuelita called her over to taste test and then buy some fruit from her I found myself in a rather awkward proximity to her unusually large bosom for a few minutes.

When my dear abuelita discovered that one of the quetzales that she was given by the cambiador was ripped she put up a big fuss and even stood up and walked down the aisle looking outside for this man so she could give him a piece of her mind. For his sake, I'm glad she never found him as I'm sure the Guatemalan equivolant of hitting him with her heavy purse would have taken place. Maybe kicking him with her silver shoes or pinching him or something. She was a pretty sassy lady I think.

Anyways, as we got closer to Guatemala City, her hometown, we started to chat a little more... about her family and mine, why I was in Guatemala and what my plans were when I got there. When she found out I wasn't entirely sure where I was staying she made sure to tell me several times to stay at the hotel in the bus station and not to go out until the next day when I needed a taxi for the airport. When we got off the bus she even walked me all the way to the door then gave me a kiss and a hug and then disappeared into the crowd of taxi drivers trying to get my business.

She was such a sweetie, but the thing I loved about her the most was how she would light up when we talked about Guatemala. She would just say "me encanta Guatemala" and I feel the same way. I loved my experience there and am sad to be away from it. My Spanish has improved dramatically although I still have a long way to get to fluency. The people were wonderful and the country itself was beautiful and interesting and fun. I miss you Guatemala, but I'll be back someday!

The Hogar..

2009-08-09T12:07:00.010-06:00

My last week before coming home was spent next door in El Salvador with my friend Rachel, her husband, Ryan, and his two siblings. We stayed at the Hogar del Nino Vito Guarato, an orphanage for people with disabilities. It was an experience I'll never forget and hope to repeat someday!

For me it was a week of...

1. FUN: planning scavenger hunts, movie nights, and surprises with the kids. Exploring a little of San Salvador. Watching them try to "destroy Voldemort" with water balloons, blowing bubbles, singing, laughing, and running... everything we did with the kids was fun!

2. FRIENDS: Being with old friends like Rachel and Ryan is always a treat, but especially to meet in El Sal and get to be part of something that has been such a big part of their lives for so long was a real bonding experience- not to mention the new friends I made there as well!

3. LOVE: You can't help but fall in love with these sweet kids who give love so freely. Watching them love each other and taking care of each other was really touching for me. Just watching their faces light up as you walk down the stairs to come play or walk around the corner is such a treat. Unforgettable.

Good News.

2009-07-22T18:39:00.007-06:00

Some good news from Guatemala.

1. A knock-off version of one of my favorite resaurants in Colorado opened in Antigua about 15 days ago.. just in time for me to taste it and offer my professional opinion of the place.

my professional opinion: not that great. But noble effort.

2. My spanish is improving.. at least I have to assume so since at church on Sunday I actually was able to understand most of the talks and on my first Sunday I basically only knew what subject they were talking about. Que bueno! Not to mention that I made my first comment in Relief Society. I memorized the 8th article of faith on the fly in spanish to share with the class.. They loved it. And I did too.

3. Today instead of sitting at school for my lesson, my teacher and I took a field trip to her small little village just outside of Antigua. She basically lives with her parents in the central park of the city right next door to her uncles. She is a pretty short woman and now I know why.. She wouldn't even let me take a picture of us standing up, she had to jump on the counter of her kitchen to try and measure up. She is the best. I think I may have been a rare sight in her city too because while we were walking around everyone in the city basically came to say hi. It was the best field trip ever.

4. This weekend is the fiesta of Antigua and as a result there will be parades, a fair, lots of concerts and music, and best of all, FIREWORKS!!! I can't wait. It is going to be awesome!

5. The cold I´ve been fighting for a week or so is almost surely not swine flu. ;) Don´t worry mom.. I´m fine!

Chichi and the Volcano!

2009-07-20T09:08:00.007-06:00

Last week I had two adventures.. the market at Chichicastenango and the volcano Pacaya.

Chichi: This is a huge market area, that spans the area in between two old churches. Anyone who knows me, knows that shopping is not one of my favorite activities.. especially when small children and old men are following me around trying to sell me things I have no interest in. But despite my aversion to shopping, I really enjoyed Chichi for all the culture of Guatemala it represented. People from the more indigenous areas of the country come together to sell at Chichi. All around you are different languages and cultures and lots and lots of colors. It was really facinating.

For example, in the churches there were people performing prayers or rituals totally unfamiliar to me. They were a mix between Catholocism and the native Mayan religious beliefs.

I bought a small pan flute there which I have been attempting to play in my room. I think I´m getting better but I haven´t been playing as much since the time I was jamming in the "privacy" of my room and I came out to my sweet German room mate telling me that she thinks I´m getting better. Or in other words, please stop... please please stop.

A few pictures from Chichi

Saturday, we went to the volcano early in the morning. At first the hike was just a really nice, not too hard, pretty views of the nearby volcanos and plenty of horse ¨po po¨ from the horses some people choose to ride up on.

But as soon as we got a little closer to the top we started walking on the dark volcanic rock which was really amazing.. when we got to the top we saw this huge river of lava flowing down the side of the volcano. It was about 2 or 3 feet wide and super hot, as you can imagine. I am so amazed that we were able to get that close to the lava since it was surely very dangerous. We actually brought marshmallows and were able to roast them over the lava. It was amazing. Truely.

pictures of Pacaya

yay.. i finally got this video uploaded. It was touch and go for a while trying to get it on here.. but I had to put it on because you can see the river of lava flowing and how close we were and how many people were jammed on this rock. You can see Lea, in the pink, my German house mate and my friend Byron in the blue helping her up.

Tikal!

2009-07-13T18:26:00.005-06:00

This weekend I took a quick two day trip up to Tikal Guatemala, the ancient ruins in the northern jungle here. The jungle was so incredible and full of sounds, smells, animals, and sights new to me. I was basically in total awe the whole weekend.. as well as pretty sticky from the humidity. My friend Lauren and I took the bus overnight Friday night, stayed in a ¨nice¨ hotel right next to the park, then went home Sunday overnight on the bus again.

The night bus experience was not something I ever hope to repeat if I can help it. I thought it was expecially funny that they showed the movie Anaconda as we made our way into the jungle... love the Guate sense of humor!

Before we entered the actual park, we checked into our hotel and hung out by the pool for a few hours to wait so our tickets would last two days. Very nice, but in the duration of those few hours I was pooped on by a tucan (we think) and had a huge leaf fall right on me from the tree above. Lovely.

The ruins in the park are a bit of a hike to get to. So after 20 minutes or so of hiking Friday afternoon we came upon our first temple, Temple 1 from the back side. It is so stunning to see these huge structures piercing the jungle background. There is no comparison. That day we explored the Gran Plaza which is the most incredible grouping of ruins in the park then made our way over to Temple 4 to get a good view of the tops of some of the other temples through the jungle. From the top you can see nothing but hundreds of miles of jungle.. plus the few temple tops poking out.

The next morning we got up early to enter the park at 6 in hopes of seeing the sunrise from Temple 4.. But unfortunately it was pretty cloudy. We did get to see the fog moving slowly over the jungle though which was pretty amazing.. I´m telling you.. NOTHING BUT JUNGLE.

The rest of the morning Sunday we finished visiting some of the other temples and ruin groups. We climbed up Temple 5 which was terrifying.. Very steep dangerous ladder up so high and then we sat on a ledge at the top and took in the sights.. Unfortunately I forgot to charge my battery Saturday night so most of my pictures are from the first day.. But I´m planning to get some from Lauren for the second day. I´ve put a few of the pictures online in an album you can look at.

i´ll complete all these pictures when i get home.. for now.. this is all i can do!

Question....

2009-07-08T16:29:00.000-06:00

Should Kirsten take Salsa lessons while she lives in Guatemala?

your thoughts....

More pictures.. words to follow

2009-07-03T10:48:00.003-06:00

here´s a link to a bunch of my pictures so far from Guatemala.. i don´t have time right now to write about it.. but i promise i will soon!

http://picasaweb.google.com/and.kirsten/Guatemala?feat=directlink

enjoy!

Lago de Atitlan

2009-06-29T08:51:00.003-06:00

So we took a quick trip on Saturday to Lake Atitlan here.. it was very beautiful, and a much needed diversion! I´ve been running around busy for so long all this free time is hard to get used to.

A few girls from school and I booked a day trip with one of the many travel agencies here and left about 8:30 in the morning and drove 2 1\2 hours on one of the curviest roads i´ve every been on to get to the Lake. We made a deal with some guy on the street to take us to two of the mayan villiages around the lake on a boat tour and jumped on the Fabiola for fun ride across the lake.

These are my friends from school and travel buddies!

This is another shot of the house i live in. It is an outdoor\indoor house which I really enjoy.

Our pets.

my bad habit..

2009-06-22T10:54:00.003-06:00

i have this bad habit of procrastinating updating my blog for ages until there is so much to write about that I simply can not fit it in a reasonably lengthed blog entry. So I´m left with the choice of writing a ridiculously long entry or leaving out many of the details. Well. In this particular case I think I would like to leave out the details and maybe write about them later. let me just simply catch you all up on where I am now and then I´ll add some fun details and cool pictures (with my sweet new camera) later.

last time I wrote I was teaching 8th grade in Texas. Now I am a student learning Spanish in Guatemala.

At the beginning of June I finished up my first year of teaching which was, as many endings are, bitter sweet. Bitter to leave my students, sweet to not have to go to work any more! I finished up a few days early in fact, in order to make it to my mom´s wedding in California on the 5th. It was lovely and lots of fun to be with family. I love you mom!

After the reception I sped off to the airport in order to make it back to Texas the next day for Susannah´s wedding in Houston. Also lovely. I will miss her and my other good friends in Texas so so much. After that wedding it was back home to finish packing for my impending move back to Utah. I left Monday morning for the long long drive up to Utah. The trip was rather uneventful, but in a good way. My car finally got a name, Sean... which is a big step for any car of mine. Thankfully I had my friend Matt along to keep me company and assist with important passenger duties.

I made it into Utah just in time to start stressing out about my upcoming trip to Guatemala and the fact that I had no job for the fall. But before I could really focus on either of those things I had an Andersen-Phippen Reunion to attend. We had a lot of fun and of course I was delighted by my nieces and nephews the whole time! What cuties! After that was over it was time to worry about packing and finding a job. And in something I can´t term anything but a miracle I was able to do both. I got packed up just fine with some good advice from all of my frequent travelling friends. And I was able to get a job teaching Geography at Independence High School in the fall. It is a part time teaching job, but I am hoping that I may be able to pick up a few more hours around the district as I got along. I am just glad I was able to get something! Plus Independence is a great school and Geography is my favorite!

so now here I am in Guatemala. It is so familiar in so many ways because of the time I spent in the Philippines and all the similarities... but the only problem is that I understand everything in the Philippines and not quite so much here. I´m looking forward to learning as much as I can while I´m here although I know very well that it will be a lot of work. Especially with all this Tagalog I´m trying not to mix in. Wish me luck! I´ll have more time to be on the computer here than I have had in a while so I hopefully will get to backtrack and give some of these events the blog time they deserve.

"When did you decide you were going to Guacamola?"

2009-05-10T20:08:00.005-06:00

This questions was the response from a friend in my Family Home Evening group a few weeks ago after telling her that I was spending my summer in Guatemala. I have to admit I was a little surprised hearing this slip of the tongue from a flight attendant, and a little more surprised when she said it happens to her all the time...

For those of you who haven't heard, yes, I am going to "Guacamola" this summer in an attempt to learn enough Spanish to call my Hispanic student's parents and tell them that they need to get their children under control. I guess it would be good to learn how to say some other things too. Ever since returning from my mission I have wanted to learn a language that I could use more often. Tagalog is a beautiful language but I only use it in random run-ins with Filipinos. Yesterday, for example, I was sitting near a picnic table of what looked like Filipinos. I got so excited that I practically pounced on the first woman from the table to walk near me. But as soon as she realized I could say more than a few words in their language, she invited me to come talk with them. In true Filipino style, next thing I knew I was eating craw fish, pansit, mangoes and chatting up a huge table full of people I had just met. What a great culture.

I love speaking Filipino and interacting with people from other cultures. So a long time ago I got a hankering to learn Spanish... a language I could use much more often. For a year or so my desire lay dormant... just a vague dream for the future. But after moving to Texas for a while I realized it was time to start acting on that. I signed up for a class at the local community college with a friend of mine from church. After a few hours of class with Narciso Sosa, our older, talkative and slightly ridiculous professor, we realized that we'd have to learn Spanish some other way. No offense intended to this very smart man, but after hearing the story about the "erough espanish" spoken by the immigrants to Texas the 5th time in two hours, we looked at each other with that look that basically means, "is this guy for real?" Yes. Apparently he is.

So since then we've taken to studying on our own two night a week and following along our text/workbook. We thought it proof of our diligence and accomplishment when, while eating dinner at one of our favorite "study spots", we were able to communicate well enough to keep our Hispanic waitress without being handed off to a server who spoke better English, as had happened several times before. But despite our best efforts, my Spanish skills (especially speaking) are meager at best. So off I go to Guatemala for 7 weeks this summer to attend Spanish classes and volunteer in my free time. I'm excited for the Spanish skills I will return with, however, not so excited for all the hard work and frustration I will undoubtedly experience this summer.

So wish me luck or suerte if you want and I'll totally know what you mean. Funny story actually. I've gotten really good at telling people about my trip to Guate in Spanish. So much so that I often find myself in awkward situations where people think I speak much better than I really do and I have to disappoint them by speaking English right after I clearly wow-ing them with my great Spanish. Someday.. Someday I will be able to finish that conversation!

Here is an entertaining little side note also, since it is Mother's Day. A true gem, you might say, from a true legend. He knows.

2009-03-27T16:46:00.005-06:00

Things that have happened since last time I posted.

1. My brother, his wonderful family and I piled all their stuff in a Penske truck (with some much appreciated help) and drove up to Colorado, where I searched long and hard for a dress to wear to my mom's wedding in June, slept in, then bravely parted with three of the cutest little girls on the planet, a loving brother, and an amazing sister-in-law. BOO!

2. I traveled to Utah in a nearly empty plane sitting in a middle seat... what was I thinking?! While in town I saw some (not nearly all) of my sorely missed family and friends and enjoyed every early morning and late night minute of it. I also wowed some people at the BYU Teacher Fair in hopes of recieving scores of job offers to chose from next year. With any luck I'll have made my decision about next year in the next month or so.. by luck I mean good job offers or no offers at all.

3. I returned to Texas feeling rather sorry for myself, having basically been deserted in this big ol' state alone. Eggageration? Yes, clearly. But it felt that way as I was flying (middle seat again) back to Texas.

4. I didn't have much time to worry about it though since I had four hours between getting home and picking up my little sister from the airport to unpack and set up my room as best I could. Don't worry, I also had two fine men to keep me company as I unpacked. In fact these guys are the ones who lived in my room before I got there.

5. My sister arrived in Texas. We mixed up her stuff with my stuff in my rather jumbled up room. She challenged my classes to a history quiz and beat all but one of my classes, that one she tied. She rocks. We saw a movie and spent an hour downtown getting our hair messed up and looking for the underground tunnels which ended up being just like hallways.. not cool, circular-shaped caverns like I was hoping. Too bad.

6. I bit the bullet and went back to work even though I really didn't want to. The end of Spring Break is a harsh reality I wasn't really ready to face. I had a good day with my terror of a 7th grade class, then a bad one, then a worse one (maybe the worst ever), then another pretty good one.

7. I finally got my room put together (with much thanks and gratitude to my roommate Jen for lending me her amazing bed and lovely dresser, and also much thanks to Alona and Susannah for the help and patience with me getting settled). Martha Stewart would be especially proud of our ping-pong-table-made-wall-then-beautified move. I've played some guitar, rested, almost stepped on a frog while jogging, and started to feel much more at home in my new home.

Things that didn't happen since last time I posted:

1. I did not clean my car like I should've

2. I did not make it out of Utah without leaving things behind, as usual.

3. I did not get to see many people that I wanted to in Colorado and Utah and didn't spend as much time as I would've liked with those I did see

4. I didn't miss the humidity while I was gone even though my lips hurt real bad and my nose bled a little

5. And I didn't wear the high heels I bought to school yet... but I'm working up the courage for next week. Wish me luck.

SOLD!!!

2009-02-16T20:03:00.010-07:00

Going going and gone. After months of waiting for someone to make a reasonable offer, stuffing papers under the pillow on my bed to keep the appearance of perfection, and Karen having to fix the blankets on my bed because making my bed neatly has never been a particular interest or skill of mine... well someone has finally purchased this great home. And now in a few short weeks my adorable nieces, my amazing brother and sister will be leaving me here in this big ol' state! After years of the "single life" it has been quite the experience to live with three little kids. What a blessing these three cute faces have been in my life since I moved in. I mean what could be better at the end of a rough day at school taking nonstop sass from ridiculous 8th graders than a little girl to run up and give you a hug and tell you that she had eaten some crasins that day, same as every day. They will be sorely missed.

This is Phoebe's why are you always trying to humiliate me face. Or it might be the what is attached to my head and making noise face.. they are hard to decipher.

Phoebe shows an early love for new kinds of cheese. She makes her aunt very proud.

Nina's very sassy response to the words, "Strike a pose!"

funny faces.

this video is a typical sunday afternoon hanging out on my bed with the girls. I love nina's sneeky look in the middle!!

This is why I just love Phoebe.

Camping!!!

2009-01-18T19:22:00.003-07:00

This last weekend I went on a little camping excursion with some girls in my ward. I didn't realize how much I miss being outdoors until I went back out for a while. I simply love being outside. And, thankfully, I live in a place that allows for rather enjoyable camping weather in January! Of course we did the typical things... setting up tents, worked on amazing tin foil dinners, made the fire as big as possible then sat around staring at it for hours, and we can't leave out the snuggling up close to keep warm element.. essential for any good camping trip in my opinion. Even though it wasn't snowy, it still got cold at night. My friend Alona and I shared a two-man tent and squished onto her twin size air mattress and both woke up warm and toasty.

Then there were the unique moments of this particular trip... like, for example, the armadillo spotting we had. This was my first time ever to see an armadillo so I was pretty excited.. as any of the girls in attendance could tell you! That's what we're doing in that picture where we are standing on the tree.

There was also the machete.. being held menacingly here by Jule.. but don't worry, she didn't hold it like that the whole campout.

But over all, the campout was a much needed, relaxing break from the rest of my life. Who needs movies, computers, phones, video games when you can just go outside and build a fire, or go for a bike ride, or play full contact frisbee keepaway. There is no equal to the great outdoors!

How was your first day?

2009-01-06T18:37:00.002-07:00

Yesterday as I was leaving school, several people excitedly asked me, "How was your first day?!" First day of what? would be my first thought in reaction to these comments. But soon enough it dawned on me that these people were all asking how my first day as a bonafide, certified teacher had gone. The reason I didn't register their meaning was that I spent my first day as a bonafide, certified teacher doing the same thing, teaching the same kids in the same classroom, that I have been doing since August when I got to Texas. The only difference, I realized later, is that I got paid for that day. So with a smile on my face, I am happy to report that my first day was GREAT!

The worst blogger ever.

2008-12-21T19:19:00.004-07:00

The following is a list of the blog entries Kirsten probably should have had since her last entry ages ago.

Entering "the void": This entry would have wittily told you all about my last few days at Teague as a student teacher in which several kids tried to convince me to join myspace... unsuccessfully. It would have explained how my student teaching marked the finale of my undergraduate career and how I was now going to be taking a two week vacation and waiting (patiently at first and anxiously later on) for a job offer to secure my future... at least for the next few months. I definitely would have talked more about the kids that I have loved teaching and my prospects for jobs.

Colorado is the best state ever: This post would have explained in detail the reasons that Colorado is such a wonderful place... blankets when it's cold outside, the mountains, familiar faces, family, and of course the aura of greatness would all have been included. I would have mentioned the hours of work on my quilt (still not done) and of course shopping with Verretta.

don't tell... but I miss Utah : This post would have told about the few busy busy days I spent in Utah interviewing, celebrating my 25th birthday!!! (yay for me), rushing to visit my loved ones, seeing some old friends, and basically feeling nostalgic for Provo, to my surprise.

What I've learned in my 25 years of life: this post would've explained to all those younger or less mature than myself all of the wisdom I have gained from my quarter century of life... or at least a summary... you know, things like... maps are really cool, spending time with family is the best and worth it, 13-year-olds are hilarious, being nice to people is really the only way to be, and living the Gospel is stinkin' hard sometimes but the only way to be truly happy so just stick with it.. you're not alone.

A JOB: This post would simply announce that I have accepted a job at the same school where I did my student teaching. It was a surprise to me because when I left a month ago they didn't have an opening, but I guess they just knew they had to have me ;) so they worked it out so I could stay. I'm glad to be able to go back to a familiar school to begin my "real life as a graduated adult" that's right, I think I'll even go buy a pair of high heels to cement my adulthood.

The worst blogger ever. : This post actually wouldn't exist if I had posted all of these other posts... it would rather be entitled "Season's Greetings" or something more spicy like "Feliz Navidad!" This post would have a festive message of love and the joy of christmas music.

Anyways, here's to better blogging in the new year. (don't get your hopes up too high, but I will try)

Thank goodness for useless talents

2008-11-06T18:42:00.006-07:00

A lot has happened since my last post... so much that I couldn't even fit posting on my blog into the schedule.

First was a trip to Fort Worth with a small ward group to see the BYU v. TCU game.. quite the disappointment... the game not the trip. The trip was a much needed break from my stressful student teaching. I also discovered my hidden talent for the bubble wrap popping game on the new iPod. Yet another totally pointless talent I can add to my list, along with pumpkin carving(see picture below), tying knots, washing laundry by hand, making fire with sticks, and playing on my homemade flute.

Then came Halloween, a great holiday if you ask me. Unfortunately Aldine school district doesn't acknowledge Halloween. They just pretend it doesn't exist. I wonder what they would do if I didn't acknowledge school tomorrow.... nope, wouldn't work. Too bad.

Luckily I got to go to a ward Halloween party dressed as Donatello, my favorite Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. I enjoyed the costume immensely... every time I felt awkward I just kicked my leg as high as possible and said "hi ya"... also I got to hold a bow staff. You should try it sometime, it is nice.

The next day I set out for another long day of trying to find a new car.. but this time I actually bought one. It may not have been expensive but we sure sacrificed a lot for that car. My brother and I spent a ridiculous hour and a half waiting for the owner of the car to show up with the title after we decided to by the 97 Honda CRV. The car was at the tattoo shop of the owner's 80 year old boyfriend. Ok, maybe he wasn't 80, but for sure he was too old and saggy to have as many tattoos as he did. After approximately 7 minutes of waiting in the tattoo shop, we decided that anything... anything would be better than sitting in this rather profane tattoo shop. So we walked to the nearby Dollar General and walked around... every isle... twice... We decided that the food at a dollar store must me months old and bought a cheese grater... oh, and a car.
Less than a week later I found myself standing outside that car with the only key locked inside. I had just gotten out of the temple and was very tired after a rather long two weeks or so. I was able to keep it together with the help of some friends and a Reece's peanut butter cup in the shape of a pumpkin. A few minutes after coming to grip with my own idiocy and bad luck, I found myself watching an adorable old temple worker man opening his slim jim lockout kit on the hood of my impenetrable car. Apparently I am not the first to have had this misfortune. I asked him, "Did they tell you how to use this stuff then?" "They gave me hints," he said, crushing any hope I had that this elderly man would actually be able to break into my car.. he was just too innocent, no matter how many tools he had. It can't be that hard, I told myself taking a stab at it. I'd seen these criminals in movies pop doors open in a matter of seconds... but after a few minutes of aimlessly jerking at anything I could hook my flat tool of crime on, I was starting to loose hope.

Just about every man who left the temple seemed to think the way I did, and wanted to show us how easy it really was. To my great pleasure I noticed that one of these men, a middle aged Hispanic fellow seemed to actually know what he was doing.. I eagerly went to watch him work. "have you done this before?" I asked... He looked at me for a second with a slight grin, "When I was younger." I know I shouldn't have been glad to hear that, but I was.

After about an hour, with sweat on his brow, this gentleman was able to get me into my car. Here to you Brother car breaker inner... From one person with "useless" talents to another.. you never know when your experience may come in handy!

Some good moments...

2008-10-12T18:05:00.002-06:00

First of all, thanks to everyone for being supportive during my minor crisis last week. I am currently working on the new car hunt (slightly less horrifying than a job hunt) and will be sure to let you know when I get my new companion for the road!

I just wanted to post about a few moments this last week which have been truly wonderful ...

Monday, 5th period. My University Supervisor had finally come to observe my class for the first time this year. I had been stewing for days, on top of my other issues, trying to make this lesson especially perfect for her, on paper my lesson was amazing! But then there is the issue of the kids, they can be great one day and totally ridiculous another. But this 5th period class on this day was the best I have ever seen them be. Kids were participating, asking good questions, working hard, listening to directions and following them... and they were even laughing at my lame jokes! I knew that my evaluation would be good because of their awesome behavior... Thank you 5th period, that day you were heroes!

Wednesday 6:00-7:30pm. My first Teague Middle School football game. Sitting in the stands watching many of my squirly boys enjoying their first real game of the season (not to mention killing the other team). The weather was fresh and cool and wonderful. I realized that night that I haven't been outside much since I arrived in Texas, something I normally rely on. The fresh air was very therapeutic for me actually.

Thursday sometime. One of my kids named Texas when I asked the class what continent we live on. Classic. I love it!

Saturday afternoon. Finding THE MOST perfect book to use for my lessons this next week at the library. Well and being at the library in general.. I love that place! OH, and Karen's amazing shakes for desert after dinner Saturday night too! That was a great moment.

This morning. Holding Phoebe as she fell asleep for her morning nap. Precious.

More to come I'm sure! Hope you all have a wonderful life too this week.

Hit and Run...

2008-10-03T18:47:00.003-06:00

Today I was in a hit and run car accident. I am alive and only have a bruise or two on my knee and a really sore neck to show for it... that is not including my car which is pretty bad.
The basic story of the accident is this...
I was headed west in the left of three westbound lanes. Out of nowhere I saw a maroon car coming straight at me from the Eastbound lanes at about a 45 degree angle. I only saw him a split second before he hit the rear part of my car starting me in a counterclockwise spin into the oncoming traffic. By some miracle and blessing from Heavenly Father none of the oncoming cars hit me as I skidded through all three lanes until I ended up in the eastbound right turning lane facing the oncoming traffic. I was in total shock and about to fly into hysteria but I was alive and basically uninjured. A few people stopped to make sure I was alright but the offender had taken off and was nowhere to be seen. Luckily one of the people who stopped got the licence plate number of the car who hit me and saw where he went. Well I called 911 and then spent the next two and half hours waiting for the cops to show up. After two hours I decided to call back and make sure they were coming and was flip-flopped between two police jurisdictions a few times before they told me that they had found the car and were looking for the "crack head" driver that they had a record a full page long with offenses having to do with narcotics and assault weapons. Something was telling me that this guy was not going to have insurance, and as I only have liability basically the financial brunt of this accident is going to be totally on me. YIPEE!
I was a total mess the entire 5 hours I was at the scene and on the way home my head was pounding and I was having a hard time formulating sentences so James bought me a chocolate shake and gave me some Ibuprofen and I took a two hour nap. When I woke up my headache was mostly gone but my shoulders and neck are still very stiff and sore and will probably get worse before they get better. But in truth I am just so grateful that I didn't die or sustain some major injury. It could've happened so easily and that would've been it. As miserable as this day has been, at least I get to wake up tomorrow. The rest will work itself out over time. Financially, this "crack head" has really put this unemployed student in a bind which is weighing pretty heavily on my mind right now, but my Dad makes a pretty savvy financial advisor and will help me figure it all out I'm sure. I am very sad about losing a car that I was very much attached to as well. How else will people know that I'm granola if I don't have long hair OR a rad wagon with Colorado plates?

PS. Since I still have the chance to tell you, I love you all very much.

Eureka!

2008-09-20T18:54:00.002-06:00

Isn't electricity awesome! I think I am experiencing something of the joy Ben Franklin had when sparks flew from the key on his damp kite string to his hand... but gratefully without any of the hassle or creative buildup. Seriously, who would think of going to fly a kite out in a storm with a key attached to the string - only living without electricity your entire life would drive you to that. Good work Mr. Franklin.

Our electricity began coursing through our starving wires on Thursday night around 11:30 with a loud police siren whoop. Lights are so cool, they really help out when its dark. And you know what else is so cool, a fan. It just blows on you when you are hot, an artificial cool prairie breeze. What a great idea. No more waving paper at your face until your wrist starts aching. No more sticky blinking with sweaty eyelids... just air. Blowing at you non-stop. Thank you Mr. Fan-Inventor man, I appreciate you.

So, of course, I have been enjoying the electricity in many ways... emailing friends and family, updating my awesome blog, talking on my cell phone (or at least knowing I can if I want to), doing stuff after dark, casually putting dirty dishes in the dishwasher!, using a blanket at night (ok, maybe it's just a sheet but at least it's something), oh, and my favorite electricity moment of our new-found modern lifestyle was when we decided to jam to the best of The Jackson Five after dinner Friday. We turned it up way loud as we cleaned the table and did the dishes while the girls busted a move to some of the best housework music ever made... right up there with the Supremes. I am telling you, cleaning is just more pleasant when you listen to Motown. One minute you've got a pile of dishes and your singin' "Stop, in the name of love... Before you break my heart!" at the top of your lungs and the next minute the kitchen is totally clean and you're humming rather awkwardly to that one song you don't really know the words to on the album, but it doesn't matter cause you're done anyways! It's magic. And it's all made possible because of electricity, which is a modern miracle. Yay for electric things and the The Jackson Five.

2008-09-17T21:43:00.005-06:00

Well, my brother just discovered an unidentified wireless signal so I am taking advantage of it to quickly post about the hurricane.

Basically, it hit us directly. Sometime in the middle of the night between Friday and Saturday the eye actually passed over us. I was asleep (storms are the best for sleeping in) but still caught a big part of the storm Saturday morning into the afternoon. It wasn't until 3 or 4 on Saturday that I got out on my bike and was able to go for a quick ride through the neighborhood to survey the damage. Luckily the neighborhood we live in, being only a few years old, is a clearing in 'the livable forest' of huge trees. There was so little damage in our neighborhood with it's puny trees, only a few of which were sitting at odd angles, I was beginning to think that this hurricane stuff was not as bad as they all say. My mind was quickly awakened as I pedalled into the next neighborhood over. The limbs and leaves of the broken trees blanketed the street and lawns of its inhabitants. Huge holes gashed the lawns where trees had fallen. Not a pretty site. And as more and more of the neighbors ventured out of our small area, they brought back stories of fallen power lines, long lines at the few gas stations and grocery stores with power, and lots of damaged homes. The more I hear leaked in, the more I believe our neighborhood was miraculously untouched by the damage of Ike.

The question now is... WHEN IS THE POWER COMING BACK?! 4 days and counting now without power. Just tonight we acquired a generator from a friend who's power has already returned. But don't get too excited... in worst case scenario our power could be off till October 5th according to our favorite energy providers. Let's all hope it's sooner than that! For now I'm happy with my fan and light on after dark for the first time in days.

oh! I almost forgot. I got to do laundry by hand today for the first time since my days in the Philippines. My fingers are smarting pretty good, but it was a sort of fun reminiscent activity to fill my time. The girls kept wanting to help but didn't quite grasp the idea of rinsing the clothes and ended up splashing socks and princess panties in the water getting everyone involved pretty wet. But there is a sort of satisfaction that comes from seeing all of your wash strung up in the yard blowing in the breeze.. it was a very Little House on the Prairie moment for Karen and me. Not the first of its kind this week and probably not the last.

oh, Ike.

So in right now.

2008-09-11T18:07:00.003-06:00

Being 'in' with all the 13 year old fashion gurus these days, I really thought I should let everyone know what is cool right now.

Teague just switched to "standardized dress" this year which means kids must wear only certain colored khaki pants and polo shirts tucked in with a belt and a mesh or see-through backpack. Right now you are picturing a mass of purple, black, gray, and white sameness. Oh, the many many loopholes you haven't thought of yet, probably because you aren't 13. Every day I am amazed at the variety of socks, shoes and laces, hair ribbons and styles, belts, necklaces, and earings.

The coolest of the cool kids can be spotted rather easily. The cool kid has his/her pants tight rolled and wears a massive belt buckle of many varieties (my favorite this week was a massive buckle in the shape of Florida that looked rather uncomfortable with all it's pointy borders and coasts!). This cool girl has her hair braided or arranged in some outrageous styles with sometimes 9 or 10 different colors of ribbon on the top like an extravagant gift bow. The cool boy sags his pants as low as humanly possible while maintainig the tucked in shirt regulation, often coming untucked in sitting position. The cool girls wear different hoops in each ear, both large enough for small dogs to jump through and arms full of noisy 'bangles'. The cool kid layers two and three polos at a time. The cool girl wears outrageous socks, sometimes with tassels or yarn balls on the sides.

...until next time on Style Watch: 8th Grade!!!

Two Quarters

2008-09-08T21:33:00.003-06:00

YAY!!! James and Karen and the three adorable girls have finally joined me here in Houston. Now when I come home from work there are lots of hugs and smiles! Can't beat that! I couldn't be happier, although my youngest niece, Phoebe has forgotten already that she knows me. She will laugh and smile at me if I stay a few feet away but if I venture too close, she does this yelling noise (which is sort of a barking angry war cry than a baby cry) while nervously watching her mom, willing Karen to rescue her from this odd stranger who has breached the personal bubble. It is actually terribly adorable, but I can't wait for her to let me hold her again. My other two nieces are super interested with all the stuff I brought to their house in my bedroom. Today they hovered over me as I tidied up a few things trying to do whatever they could to help out. So of course I was willing to comply and I did what any aunt would do in that situation and gave each one a quarter for helping me. Both of which were eventually stored 'safely' in Ella's penny box, after telling Nina that her dinner plate was not a good place to keep a quarter as it would not be a tasty OR nutritious addition to her dinner.

So, other than my extremely squirly 7th and 8th period classes, this weird congestion which first plagued my right nostril and now has moved on to my left, my rather uncooperative cooperating teacher, and the fact that I have to wake up at 6:00am every day... Life is good!

Oh, and here are a few pictures from my visit home to Colorado. Phoebe smiling, at her mom of course! And Ella and Nina pulling Grandad who is getting too old to walk apparently and has resorted to the slave labor of his granddaughters... Just Kidding, I love you Dad!

One week down....

2008-08-30T21:24:00.004-06:00

First week of school.... 6 classes a day, 5 days, about 140 students each day, 1 substitute, a sore throught, several diet cokes, 2 interesting lunches bought at school, about 25 dress code violations, and 2 referrals later I am still alive and ready to go back for more next week.

The first two days of school were pretty dull as we spent most of the time doing school orientation activities. It wasn't until Wednesday that we really got started. I am not planning the lessons yet but Mr. Ramey has let me take over teaching several classes a day. On Friday, in fact, he was out of town and I taught all day long. But don't worry.. the substitute who sat at the desk all day got paid for it. I'm not bitter, I promise.

This week I also had my first student teacher meeting where I met my university supervisor, Mrs. Sue Wooten. Mrs. Wooten was the principle at Teague before the current principle and as I walked down the hallways with this silver haired, stern looking, and very professional woman at my side, veteran teachers and the assistant principles were making comments like, "Hello maam, why is it that when I see you I still start to sweat," and, to me, "this is the woman who hired me," with a hint of worry in their voices like she might still be able to take it back. But under the rather intimidating aura of this woman I see a kind, helpful, and important person that I am sure I will be glad to be connected to in the future. Plus, she complimented my writing in a biographical essay I wrote for my student teacher application. I just hope I can continue to impress as she will be 'dropping by' about once a week to observe my teaching and write fabulously flattering observations about my teaching.

I will begin planning my own lessons next unit on the Colonial period, which is great because that just happens to be my favorite part of US History. Let's just hope it goes a little more like this...

and not like this...

It is a little bit daunting trying to plan the whole unit from nothing. I'm starting to understand why they say the first year of teaching is the hardest and the most time consuming.

Oh, and for those of you who are wondering/worrying, the friendly news anchor assures me that hurricane Gustav will not be hitting us here in Houston. But I have water, masking tape, some fancy electric device which I can use to run my refrigerator and a fan, and lots of non-perishable food in the house just in case. Thanks for all the love and support from out there.

I Messed with Texas

2008-08-24T20:06:00.004-06:00

Six or seven years ago I bought a gray T-shirt. The shirt has a few gun shots scattered with the words 'I messed with Texas' written across the front. Though I swore up and down when I bought the shirt that it would never return to its homeland, I made sure I wore that shirt as I crossed the border into Texas.

Brandon rode with me in my Colorado-granola, Subaru wagon all the way from Denver through Kansas, Oklahoma and Texas to James's house down here in Houston. With James and his four girls out of town for the month of August, I was pretty lonely those first few days not really knowing anyone. But thanks to the friendly members of the single's ward, the teachers I work with, and my awesome friends and family I've been able to keep busy and keep my spirits up.

So tonight I am on the eve of my first day of school as a Student Teacher at Teague Middle School teaching US History to 8th graders. Teague is a more diverse school than I ever went to or even observed so I am in for a new experience and I'm getting excited! I'll do my best to keep this blog updated and not too dull. Wish me luck.

P.S. I wish I had a cute new first-day-of-school outfit so I could take a picture in front of the fireplace posing with my backpack and lunchbox like I used to when I was in 3rd grade. Maybe next year.