I've never blogged more than one entry in a day, but I just have to share this, and it seemed wrong to try to add it on the end of what I previously posted. Though the previous entry was posted just a few minutes ago, it was actually typed earlier in the evening. Now, I'm just getting back from church. This was given to me by a brother who's been attending church (as well as my Spanish classes) consistently for a while now. He signed it with a pseudonym (I'm not exactly sure why . . . I guess I'll ask him later) so I can share it with you in its entirety without compromising anyone's identity or whatever. It was very sweet and encouraging. See for yourself:
Christ knows all about your struggles.
He will never leave you or forsake you.
A is for the amazing smile that you have.
No weapon that is formed against you shall prosper.
The Lord is your shepherd, so you will not want.
Every one of your enemies will be made your footstool.
Lean not to your own understanding.
Love the Lord with all of your heart.
Note: I just typed this so that I could encourage you. I can discern in my spirit that Satan is trying to make you feel that you are less than what you are. But God wants you to know that he loves you, and that he always will.
Thursday, March 30, 2006
Today, I Was Back on Top
Yesterday was the first day of my still relatively new career that I have ever taken an official sick day. I mean, I’ve gone to school feeling a bit under the weather before—I like to think of myself as a tough cookie—I can usually weather it out. But yesterday morning was like “waa-waa-waaaaah” (you know that sound where someone gets something wrong on an old game show or like if something bad happens on some cartoon or on Sesame Street?). Sore throat, congestion, and it felt like the right side of my face was swollen or puffy or something. It wasn’t happening.I called in and soon dragged myself out of bed so that I could run by the school real quick to drop off copies of a test my students were to take. As soon as I got home, I collapsed into the bed and didn’t get up again until something after 10 a.m., and to the doctor I went.
Thank goodness it wasn’t strep or anything. The doctor advised me to accept a shot of cortisone to relieve the puffiness in my face. The catch? The shot would be administered in the derrière. I was down, I mean, whatever. It was supposed to make me feel better, right? The cortisone shot did work quickly, as doc said, but then I spent the rest of the day with a slight dull ache in the hiney. (sigh) Ya win some, ya lose some.
I didn’t even think of the possible scandalousness of the shot situation until after I told my dad, “Yeah, I got prescribed some antibiotics, I had a get a shot in the (you know what),” and my dad was like, “It wasn’t a cute hottie that gave you the shot, was it?” “Dad!” I exclaimed prudishly, “C’mon, it was a lady.” The thought that it could have been a hot male nurse administering the shot had never crossed my mind until my overprotective dad said something. (The following said with a trembling Southern drawl:) The good Lord knew I couldn’t have handled it if it were. He never gives us more than we can bear. Oh, praise Him.
Anyway, today, I felt 100% better. I was ready. I bounded out of bed early. I got my little lesson together for my elementary babies. I had those old quizzes graded and ready to be passed back for my middle schoolers and got the stuff together to grade their final projects. I put grades in the system and updated them on our little online thing. I responded to emails, I was knocking stuff out left and right. Today, I was back on top.
Saturday, March 25, 2006
::sighs deeply::
Like I said last post, not much of a break. But it’s been a fruitful one, I guess. I got 2 out of my 5 response papers done, and I’m well into the reading for response paper #3. That’s pretty good, I guess. I went ahead and sent them in, and my future professor wrote back and said they looked good. Awwrright! (And for those of you who know of my obsession with professorial praise, you know how big of a deal that is. lol.)
I went on a little detour last post and went on and on about how rewarding my job is and stuff, but I must issue a caveat: Teaching is not for those who hate grading papers—especially quizzes that most of your students did atrociously on. Here I am, at the end of Spring Break with quizzes that remain ungraded. Well, I started grading them . . . I think I even got through a class, but I was just bleeding red ink, and I lost hope. ::sighs deeply:: I’m just going to do this: If a student receives a worse quiz grade than the first one he/she took, I’ll throw it out. If it’s better than the first, then I’ll count it. So, it’s a win-win situation . . . sort of. The kids are excited about Spanish, and I’m thrilled that they have so much enthusiasm about it, but there’s a difference between having enthusiasm about learning something and actually retaining the info. Yep.
I did something I thought I’d never do today. I was enticed into Lifeway Christian Stores to buy the accompaniment track to this beautiful song called “Held.” (Not saying I’m going to sing it at church, but I sort of want to. Gotta practice it first, though.) But then, I found myself wandering over to the “Single Living” section. I usually avoid that section of the Christian bookstores like the plague. All of the titles ooze desperation and/or announce “I’m officially entering into old maidhood”: What to Do While You’re Waiting for Mr. Right. Living Whole Without a Better Half. If Men Are Like Buses, How Can I Catch One? ( I almost embarrassed myself laughing out loud at that one.) And they’re usually geared towards women. There was only one I saw geared for guys, and it was titled something like How to be God’s Gift to Women. Ugh. So anyway, I never wanted to be that single girl who had a collection of “waiting for a man” books. But then I gave in. ::sighs deeply:: Well, I won’t say it’s a “waiting for a man” book. It piqued my interest, which is very, very, hard for a book of its genre to do. It’s called Revelations of a Single Woman: Loving the Life I Didn’t Expect. Hmmm . . . I picked it up and started reading. The author cites a Newsweek article on the first page, which talks about “a generation of women who, now living between college and marriage, have been raised to believe that the world could be theirs. And now, out in that world, these women are ‘unsteadily navigating a barrage of choices our mothers never had the chance to make.’” That is so me. I was sold. So, maybe my faith in the Christian “Single Living” genre will be revived. We’ll see.
Well, back to procrastinating on grading these blasted quizzes (meant to be said with an angered British accent). ::sighs deeply::
I went on a little detour last post and went on and on about how rewarding my job is and stuff, but I must issue a caveat: Teaching is not for those who hate grading papers—especially quizzes that most of your students did atrociously on. Here I am, at the end of Spring Break with quizzes that remain ungraded. Well, I started grading them . . . I think I even got through a class, but I was just bleeding red ink, and I lost hope. ::sighs deeply:: I’m just going to do this: If a student receives a worse quiz grade than the first one he/she took, I’ll throw it out. If it’s better than the first, then I’ll count it. So, it’s a win-win situation . . . sort of. The kids are excited about Spanish, and I’m thrilled that they have so much enthusiasm about it, but there’s a difference between having enthusiasm about learning something and actually retaining the info. Yep.
I did something I thought I’d never do today. I was enticed into Lifeway Christian Stores to buy the accompaniment track to this beautiful song called “Held.” (Not saying I’m going to sing it at church, but I sort of want to. Gotta practice it first, though.) But then, I found myself wandering over to the “Single Living” section. I usually avoid that section of the Christian bookstores like the plague. All of the titles ooze desperation and/or announce “I’m officially entering into old maidhood”: What to Do While You’re Waiting for Mr. Right. Living Whole Without a Better Half. If Men Are Like Buses, How Can I Catch One? ( I almost embarrassed myself laughing out loud at that one.) And they’re usually geared towards women. There was only one I saw geared for guys, and it was titled something like How to be God’s Gift to Women. Ugh. So anyway, I never wanted to be that single girl who had a collection of “waiting for a man” books. But then I gave in. ::sighs deeply:: Well, I won’t say it’s a “waiting for a man” book. It piqued my interest, which is very, very, hard for a book of its genre to do. It’s called Revelations of a Single Woman: Loving the Life I Didn’t Expect. Hmmm . . . I picked it up and started reading. The author cites a Newsweek article on the first page, which talks about “a generation of women who, now living between college and marriage, have been raised to believe that the world could be theirs. And now, out in that world, these women are ‘unsteadily navigating a barrage of choices our mothers never had the chance to make.’” That is so me. I was sold. So, maybe my faith in the Christian “Single Living” genre will be revived. We’ll see.
Well, back to procrastinating on grading these blasted quizzes (meant to be said with an angered British accent). ::sighs deeply::
Friday, March 17, 2006
Not Much of a Break
This upcoming week is designated as Spring Break. Ordinarily, I’d veg out and sleep in and just have a glorious week of do-nothing bliss. (Quite unlike my rather well to do students who are going to Cancun and Disneyworld and stuff). But oh, no. Not this time, baby. What am I going to be doing? Grading papers that I’ve put off grading for the longest and spending every possible shred of time reading and writing response papers for this Paul class coming up at UGST this summer. If I don’t do it now, over Spring Break, it’ll never get done. And I just have to . . . I just can’t let May 29th roll up on me being unprepared. I won’t have it. Yes, I do claim the title of Queen of Procrastination—I serve my loyal subjects like no other queen would, but then my anal retentive side kicks in and gets the ball rolling. And once anal retentiveness (AR) kicks into gear, it’s over. See, AR don’t care. AR don’t play. He busts up in the place and forces the Queen to abdicate, or else. If I procrastinate the night before, AR makes sure I’m up early enough (even if it’s 3:30 a.m.) to get it done (and done right) the following day. If I’ve been procrastinating for several months to get some books read, say, AR will make sure I get it done in a week. Hence, the title of this post.
In other news, I just realized that my brother is cool. Well, I have two of them; the one I’m referring to is the 21-year-old who moved out not too long ago. When I moved back home, and he was still living at home, he simply got on my nerves (Lord knows I probably got on his). He was like the bane of my existence. He’s this 6-foot hulk who was always in the way and could be downright rude with characteristic brotherly nastiness. He always seemed to barrel his way into everything, would leave the bathroom an intolerable wreck, and would sit at the table and slurp his cereal. Grrrrr. But once he left, the dynamics changed. I began to miss my little hulk. Whenever I see him at church or when he stops by the house every once in a while I always give him a big hug and we actually talk and laugh and have meaningful conversations. In fact, I’m going over to his place tonight to chill and eat pizza and watch a movie. Who would ‘a thunk it?
And last little random side note: If you need a self-esteem booster, become a middle or elementary school teacher. Though I get germs and sicknesses from my little dear ones, I also get lots of love. I get hugs and compliments every day, even from the big kids. That is not to say that teaching doesn’t get tiring and that the kids are all perfect angels. Absolutely not. Oh . . . I have my days. But teaching has a way of making you put your best foot forward, even when you don’t feel up to par, and making you put a smile on your face for the sake of the kids, even when you don’t feel like it. And soon, you realize that you really are happy, because you are doing what you love. (sigh) I hope my optimism about my profession doesn’t wax cynical with the passage of time.
Well, anyway, if there’s a blog drought for a little bit, you’ll know that it’s not my will, but AR’s be done. Like I said, he’s no joke.
In other news, I just realized that my brother is cool. Well, I have two of them; the one I’m referring to is the 21-year-old who moved out not too long ago. When I moved back home, and he was still living at home, he simply got on my nerves (Lord knows I probably got on his). He was like the bane of my existence. He’s this 6-foot hulk who was always in the way and could be downright rude with characteristic brotherly nastiness. He always seemed to barrel his way into everything, would leave the bathroom an intolerable wreck, and would sit at the table and slurp his cereal. Grrrrr. But once he left, the dynamics changed. I began to miss my little hulk. Whenever I see him at church or when he stops by the house every once in a while I always give him a big hug and we actually talk and laugh and have meaningful conversations. In fact, I’m going over to his place tonight to chill and eat pizza and watch a movie. Who would ‘a thunk it?
And last little random side note: If you need a self-esteem booster, become a middle or elementary school teacher. Though I get germs and sicknesses from my little dear ones, I also get lots of love. I get hugs and compliments every day, even from the big kids. That is not to say that teaching doesn’t get tiring and that the kids are all perfect angels. Absolutely not. Oh . . . I have my days. But teaching has a way of making you put your best foot forward, even when you don’t feel up to par, and making you put a smile on your face for the sake of the kids, even when you don’t feel like it. And soon, you realize that you really are happy, because you are doing what you love. (sigh) I hope my optimism about my profession doesn’t wax cynical with the passage of time.
Well, anyway, if there’s a blog drought for a little bit, you’ll know that it’s not my will, but AR’s be done. Like I said, he’s no joke.
Monday, March 13, 2006
80 Percent Off
Vanity of vanities, saith the Preacher, vanity of vanities; all is vanity (Ecclesiastes 1:2).It was insane. The Parisian at Montgomery Mall is going out of business, and everything, I repeat, everything, is 80% off.
I mean, that is like glorious paradise to people who like to shop for clothes . . . like me. I mean, I felt like a kid walking into a candy store and the owner saying, “Okay, everything is a penny.” Or like going into Red Lobster and the manager saying, “Okay, you can choose 5 entrees for a buck.” Or like, going to a travel agency and the lady saying, “Alright, you can have 10 round trips to Spain for $2.50.”
See, and I had just told God I was going to stop. I used my $10 off and 30% off coupons as an excuse to shop at New York & CO last weekend. And then, for being a “valued customer” I got a 20%-off-of-your-favorite-item coupon in the Lerner catalog, and they had this smashing denim dress . . . come on, I had to use the 20% off before it expired!
But then I had to get real and tell myself to stop using “I have to use this coupon before it expires” as an excuse to buy stuff I don’t really need. Isn’t the purpose of my living at home for now to save money?
But to top it off, Parisian had to go out of business. And you (well, those of you who are well-versed in the shopping realms) know that Parisian stuff ain’t cheap. But 80% off basically turned it into the Salvation Army. At my mom’s simple suggestion to “just go out and see what they have,” I caved in and tagged along.
As I was gleefully hunting through racks of skirts and jackets and what not, I felt a stab of Solomonic conviction in my heart. “All is vanity” kept going through my mind. Then, the little wannabe activist in me rose up and started berating me for falling into our country’s classic vices of giving into excess and materialism. “You capitalist pig!” the inner wannabe activist shouted. While I snickered a little at the accusations of my inner activist, I did feel Solomon’s world-weariness. Why am I getting all this stuff just because it’s there to be gotten? All is vanity. I put a few things back on the rack. (Okay, I didn’t put it all back. I’m not up for sainthood any time soon.)
In the end, I got two skirts, a jacket, a suit, and one of those flower pins for less than $40. I didn’t go overboard, just got a few nice things for ridiculously reduced prices. I would have made Solomon proud. Maybe. Or maybe he would have seen me all dolled up in my new cute 80% off clothes and would have wanted to add me to his harem of concubines. Ya just never know.
Thursday, March 09, 2006
Gospel Music and Me
I’ve never been a big fan of gospel music. The only time I ever used to listen to it at all was on Sunday mornings while getting ready for church, compliments of my mom. Now, when I say gospel music, I’m talking about the down-home, black folk, foot-stompin’, hittin’ a tambourine so hard and long that you rub your palms raw, Jesus-screamin’ kind of gospel. There’s only so long the ending of a song can be, you know what I’m saying?But what kind of noise usually blasts itself from the speakers of my CD player? Christian rock, usually. Audio Adrenaline, Newsboys, Jars of Clay, tobyMac, Switchfoot—those kinds of folks. Why wailing electric guitars and driving drum beats seem to get me going more than more . . . soulful sounds is beyond me. I’ve stopped trying to figure out why my tastes are the way they are. To be honest, I used to be ashamed of it, and I always despised being criticized for not being “down.” But I guess I’ve finally realized that stereotypes rarely apply to real people living real lives in the real world, and that what I’m “supposed” to listen to is whatever suits my fancy. As I step down from my soapbox . . .
But I guess what has inspired me to write this is that I’m gaining this new appreciation for gospel music. It has slowly inched its way into my car radio listening time. Especially in the mornings, when I’m heading to work, it puts me in a positive frame of mind. I’m gonna start this day off right. It gives me this warm, nostalgic feeling, like the smell of blueberry muffins baking in the oven that makes me feel that everything is right with the world. One morning, this song “I’m Blessed” came on. I’m blessed/ Truly blessed/ I got my health/ and I got my strength/ Thank God I’m blessed . . . gospel music is starting to make light bulbs come on in my head. Like, simple revelations that somehow penetrate to the core. I mean, all of a sudden: What, for the love of God, do you have to complain about? You lack nothing. Didn’t you go to bed last night with a roof over your head? Do you ever go hungry? Don’t you have a great job and a loving family? Be thankful! Thank you, gospel music. I think I’m finally starting to see you for who you really are. I need your simple reminders and your nudging wake-up calls.
Monday, March 06, 2006
A Feeling I Can't Put My Finger On, Hypothetically
The way I'm feeling right now is sort of weird. Not uncommon for me, I guess. I'm not devestated, no. Quite far from that. I can't exactly say that I'm jealous . . . I mean, what for? Hmmmm . . . it's like a mixture of longing and contentment. Maybe I can explain by constructing a hypothetical situation:
Let's say a hypothetical girl and a hypothetical guy fell for each other. The hypothetical guy loved the hypothetical girl almost unconditionally, but the hypothetical girl always seemed a little unsure. In the end, the hypothetical girl broke up with the hypothetical guy. It hypothetically devestated them both, but they have hypothetically remained friends. Let's say that one day, the hypothetical girl puts two and two together and realizes that the hypothetical guy is most likely talking to another hypothetical girl now. Let's say that one day the hypothetical guy and the original hypothetical girl are hypothetically small talking and the hypothetical girl casually asks if the hypothetical guy is "talking to anyone." The hypothetical girl's hypothetical suspicions are hypothetically confirmed. How is the hypothetical girl, hypothetically, to feel?
Well, hypothetically, I'd say on one hand, she is happy for the hypothetical guy. She truly and hypothetically wishes that things work out. She, after all, is the one who hypothetically decided that the hypothetical guy wasn't it. She hypothetically remembers wanting him to hypothetically find someone else who wouldn't be so fickle and unsure as she hypothetically was and that would hypothetically want him wholeheartedly, without reservation. Because that is what he hypothetically deserved. But on the other hand, I'd say the hypothetical girl feels this hypothetical longing. She still feels hypothetically drawn to him in a way, and hypothetically remembers when they were together. Perhaps it's because the hypothetical guy was the closest she's ever hypothetically had to the real deal, and the real deal is something she hypothetically longs for. And she sees that the hypothetical guy has hypothetically moved on, and she's left wondering if she has.
So, if, shall we say, the hypothetical girl were me, the way she would hypothetically feel would describe this weird feeling I have right now.
Let's say a hypothetical girl and a hypothetical guy fell for each other. The hypothetical guy loved the hypothetical girl almost unconditionally, but the hypothetical girl always seemed a little unsure. In the end, the hypothetical girl broke up with the hypothetical guy. It hypothetically devestated them both, but they have hypothetically remained friends. Let's say that one day, the hypothetical girl puts two and two together and realizes that the hypothetical guy is most likely talking to another hypothetical girl now. Let's say that one day the hypothetical guy and the original hypothetical girl are hypothetically small talking and the hypothetical girl casually asks if the hypothetical guy is "talking to anyone." The hypothetical girl's hypothetical suspicions are hypothetically confirmed. How is the hypothetical girl, hypothetically, to feel?
Well, hypothetically, I'd say on one hand, she is happy for the hypothetical guy. She truly and hypothetically wishes that things work out. She, after all, is the one who hypothetically decided that the hypothetical guy wasn't it. She hypothetically remembers wanting him to hypothetically find someone else who wouldn't be so fickle and unsure as she hypothetically was and that would hypothetically want him wholeheartedly, without reservation. Because that is what he hypothetically deserved. But on the other hand, I'd say the hypothetical girl feels this hypothetical longing. She still feels hypothetically drawn to him in a way, and hypothetically remembers when they were together. Perhaps it's because the hypothetical guy was the closest she's ever hypothetically had to the real deal, and the real deal is something she hypothetically longs for. And she sees that the hypothetical guy has hypothetically moved on, and she's left wondering if she has.
So, if, shall we say, the hypothetical girl were me, the way she would hypothetically feel would describe this weird feeling I have right now.
Friday, March 03, 2006
Spanish and Sudoku
Tonight was the debut of the first ever Spanish class sponsored by my church and taught by yours truly! I had almost 20 people show. The lesson tonight was on the sounds of the Spanish language. We had a ball rolling our 'r's and what not. Afterward, people told me that they enjoyed it; I enjoyed teaching it. So, I will have to say that it was a success. This will be a weekly deal, so maybe even more will come as the class progresses. Who knows what God is going to do? I just have a good feeling about it.
On a completely different note, I'm being sucked into the lure of Sudoku. See, I'm not usually one to follow the current crazes. I never read The DaVinci Code because it was like this craze and everyone was reading it. I'll probably read it sometime soon, now that the buzz has pretty much died down now. I just hate doing what everyone else is doing at the time. I never got into those cut-off jackets either. See, I don't even know what they're called. You know, those jackets (usually denim) that are like all the rage that have half of the back cut off? Never got into that. So, imagine my surprise when Sudoku made its entrance in my life. I just decided to try it, just once wouldn't hurt, right? But, oh, I'm starting to get hooked. The rules are so simple, but the logic it takes to solve them is almost . . . intoxicating. Ooh.
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