Springtime in DC

This year I elected to make my annual trip to Washington, DC in the springtime, instead of over Fall Break.  I just really wanted the chance to wear cute spring clothes and heels...which didn't entire work out for me (damn you, rain!)  It was the first of many wonderful decisions I made - or that were made on my behalf - throughout the trip.  Some of these included:

*Buying Marek this awesome Nuggets hat for his birthday...and realizing that it goes perfectly with his 12-year-old semi-gross vans. 

*Exploring Eastern Market during Emily & Ian's 2nd Annual Day of Best Friendship.  We wore matching friendship bracelets and stuff.  

 *Sight-seeing at sunset. 

We waved at all the people who lined up on Friday to get into the oral arguments for the gay marriage case - which didn't happen until the following Tuesday.  These people slept outside the Supreme Court for 4 days in the rain!

 *Inviting some college friends to watch Marek bartend. Oh hey, Jessica Nagro!

 *Enjoying some amazing hollandaise sauce at the Chesapeake Room. Even Justin came down from NYC!

*Exploring campus...during a rain storm. 

 *Jeff and I finding our bricks in the GWU quad.  I guess this makes it official!

  

*Visiting Marek and Ian's farm...in the middle of southeast DC.  I learned exactly what 1/1000th of an acre looks like.  It might not look like much now, guys, but just you wait until summer.  Parsnips for everyone!

*Skyping with Lil Marc in Taiwan.  I miss that adorable face!

*Seeing Alyssa again.  My life in Denver has been considerably less awesome since she left, and it was incredible to see her.  I introduced her to my grandparents, uncle, and some highlights of their current neighborhood. 

The peace and beauty of Arlington Cemetery overwhelm me each time I visit.  What an honor to have my family laid to rest there. 

DC is always a challenging trip for me, emotionally.  I get caught up in the former college version of myself, and sometimes I even cry unnecessarily over random things (am I right, Jeff?).  I miss the city, the culture, and the friends there that still hold my heart.  Leaving DC sucks, to be blunt.  But at least I know that there is always so much waiting for me to enjoy next time. 

Here's to the best DC trip that I probably have ever had!

And It Was Good

Every year, I pull out all the stops and observe Lent with a fierceness that shocks those around me.  I do this partially for the religious education, but primarily as an exercise in self control and temptation. 

And let me tell you, this year has been one of temptation.  This year I decided to give up all sweets.  Yes, I have not tasted anything sweet since February 13th (39 days ago, but who's counting?). And it may sound like a trivial thing, but when you already exist on a gluten and dairy free diet, dessert is pretty much the only joy left in the world. And as much as I love meat and vegetables, I am about ready to stab my eyes out. 

I've had some mixed experiences with my Lenten sacrifices.  There was the year that I gave up desserts, but convinced myself that Fig Newtons were a fruit-based health food, so I ate half a box of Fig Newtons a day.  Or last year, when I only gave up chocolate and became dependent on Swedish Fish (am I right, Lindsey?). Or my senior year of college when I gave up alcohol, and well...I cried myself to sleep.  I am proud to say that I've done a pretty good job this year!

It's been a struggle. I'm pretty sure God has been testing me.  Like when he put the school group of 80 middle schoolers on both of my flights to DC (with departure gates next to a Ben and Jerry's).  Or when he sent me to three consecutive birthday parties with dark chocolate birthday cakes. Thanks, God!

As I was listening to the cathedral choir chant the passion of Christ exquisitely today, I was reminded why I do this to myself every year.  There is no deeper joy than receiving once again that which you have sorely missed.  To see again a person/lost dog/childhood toy/favorite sweater/car key/cell phone/$20 bill that you thought you would never lay eyes on again.  To find hope when you had no hope.  

At 12:01am on Sunday I will take a bite of Cold Stone cake batter ice cream with sprinkles and hot fudge.  If you aren't doing anything at the time, you should come join me.  

If you've never seen a full grown woman cry over ice cream, it's really something. 

May Easter Day bring you deep and delirious happiness as well. 

I'm Mexican

As a high school teacher, there is nothing scarier than getting a hair cut.  It's like walking into an episode of Fashion Police - everyone has feedback.  

Well, I did it! I got a major hair cut and the reviews are in:

"Miss, now you look like a Mexican!"

"Wow, you look like a car salesman.  But like for the really fancy cars."

"Miss, you should go sell houses now."

"Ooooooo, Miss, when your ex-boyfriend sees you he is going to need some kleenex and ice cream."

I guess I did alright!

(I don't have a pic of the hair cut, but this is pretty much what I look like...)

Happy Wednesday!

I've Been Robbed!

 If I had known what would happen, I'm not sure that I'd have taken last Friday off...

wait, who am I kidding...that's a lie. 

Well, it turns out that 8th graders who have two months left until they go to high school make some bad behavior decisions.  Last Friday my 8th graders decided to steal snacks out of the teacher cabinet.  The little shits robbed me! Yes, it is only food, but they were sneaky little jerks about the whole thing and I got super pissed.  This group of students (my only middle school class, thank God) takes the prize for my least favorite people at the moment.  But an honorable mention goes out to the substitute who sat back and allowed five 13-year-olds to chow down on 20 bags of chips. Nice work, sir. 

These little cherubs also decided to lie to my face, then change their stories, then lie to my face again.  After many lectures about trust, some "snitching" sessions, several written self reflections, and two rounds of group therapy with the Dean of Students (no joke) I still don't know exactly what happened.  So, if you see smoke coming out of my ears, it is probably because I'm thinking about 4th period...and their terrible, terrible grammar. 

I give you:

The student who thinks he is only in trouble because he didn't do the word search.

The student who was doing so good until he suddenly ripped his book apart. 

 Then recanted 24 hours later and isn't quite so innocent. 

The reformed thief.

And the student who thinks I'm going to send him to jail. 

Good luck in high school, guys.

Farewell, Mr. Orange

Today was supposed to be Mr. Orange's last day.  However, I found this on his desk upon my arrival this morning:

I mean, I have no words.  He couldn't even fulfill his commitment through his final day.  

My favorite part isn't even that he got the date wrong, or that my grandmother could write better sub plans than this.  

It's that he felt the need to Scotch tape this paper to his desk on all four sides.  

Because, as we all know, people are out to steal his lesson plans. 

Farewell, Mr. Orange.  May you find a new profession far, far away from education. 

ATTN: Single Men

Oh hey there, single men.  Are you single because you are bad at dating?  Don't worry, I got your back.  Or more precisely, a middle schooler has your back.  

Here are some timeless tips from the inner workings of a 13-year-old boy's mind:

It's not rocket science, guys. 

I Miss You Room 116

Folks, I don't often comment about my work life on my blog because, well...on a scale of 1 to 10, I love my job about an 11.  Good curriculum, ideal schedule, students who have become family.  Therefore, the recent turn in events at school has really put me in a funk. 

I share a room with my teacher-twin Lindsey.  We teach the same thing, but to different grade levels.  We alternate teaching in room 116 depending on our class schedules.  So you can imagine my hesitation when I learned that Lindsey would be out on maternity leave from November through March.  

Enter Mr. Orange, her long-term sub (name changed for his confidentiality and my amusement).  When we initially met Mr. Orange he was professional, capable, and good with the kids.  If only we had known that Mr. Hyde was in there somewhere...

Since November, things have been in a gradual downward spiral. 

- Mr. Orange did not show up for work on 3 occasions and I had to make last minute sub plans for him

- Mr. Orange will not read his school email for fear of being held responsible

- Mr. Orange raised his voice to the Assistant Principal

- Mr. Orange told the Dean of Students that if she tried to observe him again he would quit

- Mr. Orange passed off his duties onto me without telling me

- Mr. Orange will not follow sub plans and had his students paint instead of read

- Mr. Orange refused to do important requirements of his job until he was caught

And best of all!...

- Mr. Orange followed me down the hall on Monday and verbally assaulted me in front of students and teachers for no reason. 

I have filed a grievance, but the school is not able to do anything about him.  There are procedures to follow.  He gets a meeting with the Dean and another warning and a letter of reprimand.  I get to share a room with him. 

So, room 116, my home, has become the child of divorced parents.  I have custody in the mornings, and Mr. Orange has custody in the afternoons.  I pack up all my things after lunch and never return. 

When I take a moment to reflect, I realize that this experience has taught me so much:

- I need to focus on my locus of control. 

- I am lucky to have so many other "homes" open to me throughout the school. 

- I still love my job, even under insane circumstances. 

Feeling uncomfortable or unwelcome in your home is all encompassing.  It changes how you think about your day and how you treat people you come into contact with.  Room 116 is my home.  It's where I keep my pictures, my candy drawer, and five million stacks of random papers on my desk. 

If I am all bent out of shape about "losing" my classroom, imagine what it is like for students who don't have a real home to welcome them. I know now that I must make my classroom a stable, friendly and safe place - it might be the only one some kids see.  And it matters. 

I also know now that I'm strong.  I'm a survivor. (cue Destiny's Child).