I'm crabby as can be today. For no good reason. Truly--I have nothing to be crabby about. Did a little shopping today, took Gatsby for two walks, laid out in the sun, went to spin class, finished an amazing book....there is absolutely nothing in that list that should make me anything but ecstatic. Today is the kind of day that will send me right over the moon in January. Tonight? I'm just irritated. And irritated with myself for being irritated.
I think, honestly, the problem is that I've spent too much time in my head lately. I love relaxing during the summer, and it's true that I definitely need my "stay the hell away from me" time during the school year, but I have to admit to myself that I'm a people-person. I just hate that. I'd love to be a hermit; I'd love to be someone who not only didn't require human interaction but actually abhorred it. But, I guess I wouldn't be much of a public school teacher if that was the case, and, given that that's how I spend most of my year, it's probably good I need the energy of others to be truly happy.
Tomorrow I'll teach some yoga, maybe go to a class, have some interactions with some people. I'll try to leave the crabby pants at home.
Showing posts with label summer vacation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label summer vacation. Show all posts
Tuesday, August 07, 2012
Sunday, June 10, 2012
The one where I chase a duck down Excelsior Blvd.
Meet CC.
CC is a wood duck who came into my life today when I drove over him. No, I don't mean I hit him, I mean I drove, literally, over him. I was driving from teaching one yoga class to teaching another. CC was sitting in the middle of Excelsior Blvd in St. Louis Park holding vigil next to a dead, very squished bird. Cars were driving over the pair because of that instinct most of us have to swerve around even dead things. But, as I watched CC and friend as I drove over them, I saw CC moving. I pulled over immediately and ran toward CC. As I did so, a truck came barreling down the road and I said, out loud "pleasedonthithimpleasedonthithim" and, miraculously, the truck drove over CC as every other car had. CC had had quite enough by this point, however, and began to run like crazy all over the road chirping with all his might (which isn't a lot; he's little).
I chased him around and finally got him to safety by a tree. Then, I began to mull what to do. I didn't know if this was a "don't touch him and leave him or his mother will kill him" type of situation or a "get the duck to a rescue place asap so he's got a chance." I opted for the latter. I scooped CC into a box from the nearby Holiday and drove to teach my yoga class.
When I got home, I could no longer postpone the inevitable: CC needed to go somewhere that was not a) my house, b) my yard, c) some scary place where I wouldn't know what would happen to him. After all, I rescued this little rugrat from the middle of a busy street--no way was I sending him off to die.
Enter: The Wildlife Rehabilitation Center (WRCMN) in Roseville. I brought CC there and was greeted by a volunteer. She didn't bat an eye and greeted me with "what do we have here?" She took a look at CC, designated him a wood duck, and handed me a form. She told me that I had done exactly the right thing and that by rescuing him I had saved his life.
While I filled out CC's paperwork, the volunteer told me that they usually get around 100 ducks a day this time of year. ZOINKS. Seriously? A HUNDRED ducks? A DAY? They're non-profit and run completely on donations and volunteers. They have a vet onsite who, the volunteer said, would check out CC. Then, he'd be placed in a pond at the center with other wood ducks, and he and his new family will live together and learn how to be out in the wild until it's time to release them. When they're released, they're released all together so they all have the protection of their "posse" and no one has to go it alone.
I am so, so grateful that a place like this exists so that I was able to spend the last 6 hours (and the rest of this night) knowing that CC is safe with other ducks and not dead. I know, there's something to be said for nature taking its course and all that, but I don't consider cars barreling over animals at 65 mph to be "nature taking its course." CC deserves the life he was supposed to have when he woke up this morning--or as close to it as possible.
So, my summer vacation begins with me saving a life. Not too shabby, I'd say. I hope I don't ever have to do it again, but I'm really glad that I know what to do if the need should arise.
CC is a wood duck who came into my life today when I drove over him. No, I don't mean I hit him, I mean I drove, literally, over him. I was driving from teaching one yoga class to teaching another. CC was sitting in the middle of Excelsior Blvd in St. Louis Park holding vigil next to a dead, very squished bird. Cars were driving over the pair because of that instinct most of us have to swerve around even dead things. But, as I watched CC and friend as I drove over them, I saw CC moving. I pulled over immediately and ran toward CC. As I did so, a truck came barreling down the road and I said, out loud "pleasedonthithimpleasedonthithim" and, miraculously, the truck drove over CC as every other car had. CC had had quite enough by this point, however, and began to run like crazy all over the road chirping with all his might (which isn't a lot; he's little).
I chased him around and finally got him to safety by a tree. Then, I began to mull what to do. I didn't know if this was a "don't touch him and leave him or his mother will kill him" type of situation or a "get the duck to a rescue place asap so he's got a chance." I opted for the latter. I scooped CC into a box from the nearby Holiday and drove to teach my yoga class.
When I got home, I could no longer postpone the inevitable: CC needed to go somewhere that was not a) my house, b) my yard, c) some scary place where I wouldn't know what would happen to him. After all, I rescued this little rugrat from the middle of a busy street--no way was I sending him off to die.
Enter: The Wildlife Rehabilitation Center (WRCMN) in Roseville. I brought CC there and was greeted by a volunteer. She didn't bat an eye and greeted me with "what do we have here?" She took a look at CC, designated him a wood duck, and handed me a form. She told me that I had done exactly the right thing and that by rescuing him I had saved his life.
While I filled out CC's paperwork, the volunteer told me that they usually get around 100 ducks a day this time of year. ZOINKS. Seriously? A HUNDRED ducks? A DAY? They're non-profit and run completely on donations and volunteers. They have a vet onsite who, the volunteer said, would check out CC. Then, he'd be placed in a pond at the center with other wood ducks, and he and his new family will live together and learn how to be out in the wild until it's time to release them. When they're released, they're released all together so they all have the protection of their "posse" and no one has to go it alone.
I am so, so grateful that a place like this exists so that I was able to spend the last 6 hours (and the rest of this night) knowing that CC is safe with other ducks and not dead. I know, there's something to be said for nature taking its course and all that, but I don't consider cars barreling over animals at 65 mph to be "nature taking its course." CC deserves the life he was supposed to have when he woke up this morning--or as close to it as possible.
So, my summer vacation begins with me saving a life. Not too shabby, I'd say. I hope I don't ever have to do it again, but I'm really glad that I know what to do if the need should arise.
Thursday, June 07, 2012
Freedom, sweet freedom!
Today was the conclusion of the 2011-12 school year. Last night I poked myself in the face with an ice spear from my freezer, which is the clearest indicator ever that I need summer here pronto!
This year's end is rife with change and charged with emotion. At the risk of being accused of being coy, I'll not say a whole ton about why that is just yet, except to say that this upcoming school year will be different; what has yet to be determined is the degree of difference. I'm always excited to end a school year--it's the period at the end of a sentence, and, so, I'm required to start a new statement!
This summer I'll be teaching summer school. I also have aspirations to buy a house. And spend a ton of time with people that I've been getting to know better over the last year. I'd also like to clean out my garage, sell half of what I own, and start an herb garden. And, of course, yoga. Always with the yoga.
In the next few days I'll be presenting y'all with a list of summer plans/goals. Rest assured, it'll be a good list. This is, after all the year of saying "yes." So far? So good.
This year's end is rife with change and charged with emotion. At the risk of being accused of being coy, I'll not say a whole ton about why that is just yet, except to say that this upcoming school year will be different; what has yet to be determined is the degree of difference. I'm always excited to end a school year--it's the period at the end of a sentence, and, so, I'm required to start a new statement!
This summer I'll be teaching summer school. I also have aspirations to buy a house. And spend a ton of time with people that I've been getting to know better over the last year. I'd also like to clean out my garage, sell half of what I own, and start an herb garden. And, of course, yoga. Always with the yoga.
In the next few days I'll be presenting y'all with a list of summer plans/goals. Rest assured, it'll be a good list. This is, after all the year of saying "yes." So far? So good.
Tuesday, June 05, 2012
Golden Rule Days
I should be grading right now, as I will be doing for the next 60 years of my life (slight exaggeration for effect...but, dude, the news said last night I may not be able to retire until after my 70s. AFTER. Like...teaching as an 80 year old. Blimy.), but I needed to just check in, 8 weeks later, to let y'all know that
SCHOOL IS ALMOST DONE
That means I'll stop neglecting my dog, my friends, my family, my yoga practice, my dishes and, most importantly, YOU. That's right...pretty soon I'll be back filling up your blog feeder with the nuances of my day to day summer existence.
Bet you can't wait, huh? ;-)
SCHOOL IS ALMOST DONE
That means I'll stop neglecting my dog, my friends, my family, my yoga practice, my dishes and, most importantly, YOU. That's right...pretty soon I'll be back filling up your blog feeder with the nuances of my day to day summer existence.
Bet you can't wait, huh? ;-)
Wednesday, June 02, 2010
The final countdown
It's June!!! Tomorrow is the "one week left" mark of the school year, and it cannot come fast enough. Do I feel this way every year? I probably do.
This summer is no break, though. Summer school, 60 hours of curriculum writing in preparation for two new classes this fall, and 10 credits in grad school. Oh, and teaching yoga 7 days a week. Summer break? That's for amateurs.
This summer is no break, though. Summer school, 60 hours of curriculum writing in preparation for two new classes this fall, and 10 credits in grad school. Oh, and teaching yoga 7 days a week. Summer break? That's for amateurs.
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Never have Christ and I been mentioned so many times in the same sentence.
Three days ago I celebrated my 33rd birthday. It was exactly the way I wanted it to be--spent the day doing various enjoyable activities: lunch with Erica, teaching summer school, etc. I did not do yoga or take a nap, but, well, there are only 24 hours in a day.
Last night I had a party, where a lengthy conversation took place about Jesus Christ, and how he was crucified when he was 33 years old. I knew this already, largely because of my Catholic friend Jessie who told me this detail on her 33rd birthday. My hope is that my year turns out better than his did. Seriously.
So, here's to 33: brought in with a good solid whibang (not a whimper, not a bang)...may it be an absolutely outstanding year full of more publications, more yoga, and more teaching. And, maybe, just MAYBE, I'll figure out where and how I want to spend my 34th year.
Last night I had a party, where a lengthy conversation took place about Jesus Christ, and how he was crucified when he was 33 years old. I knew this already, largely because of my Catholic friend Jessie who told me this detail on her 33rd birthday. My hope is that my year turns out better than his did. Seriously.
So, here's to 33: brought in with a good solid whibang (not a whimper, not a bang)...may it be an absolutely outstanding year full of more publications, more yoga, and more teaching. And, maybe, just MAYBE, I'll figure out where and how I want to spend my 34th year.
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Snap back to reality...
I'm home from the camping trip (a.k.a. best fucking week of my whole entire life) and will write about it when I find the words to do so. There was so much that happened, some that can be blogged about and some that can't, but all of which contributed to a magical ebb and flow of a weekend that I will remember forever. And makes it very hard to be home right now. Going to stats tonight. Going to work tomorrow. Everything has gone from being very easy to being very hard. Ebb and flow. Ebb. And. Flow.
Monday, August 18, 2008
The weekend was so big I need to break it up into parts... (Part 2)
Okay, so where we last left off, I was at the TeePee on the Rez with Jessie, Brian and Rocket. After breakfast, Rocket went home and Jessie, Brian and I chilled for a bit before they took off for a comedy show in Rochester. I sat paralyzed in the aftermath of total saturation socialization, cried a bit, then started getting ready for the totally kick ass evening ahead.
Yoga Molly called and let me know of her plans for the night--Irish Fest and the Flogging Molly concert--and we agreed that we'd meet after our concerts. Because, in just a few short hours, I would be sitting ten feet from the amazing, beautiful, fabulous, talented, amazing Idina Menzel. I bought tickets to see her earlier in the summer and decided that even if no one would go with me I'd be a big girl and go all by myself. And I did.
When I got to the Fitzgerald (before it opened, of course, because I'm an insanely early concert goer) I sat outside and read. When the doors opened, I and about a thousand of my thirteen-year-old fellow fans burst through the gate into our seats. The usher led me to my seat, and led me, and led me, and led me, all the way down to the third row. (I had, by the way, front row seats from Ticketmaster but was so freaked out by the possibility of sitting THAT CLOSE to Idina Menzel that I actually let them go.) Perfect.
The opening act was the brilliant and hilarious Martin Zellar. Who, I might add, gives writer Ethan Canin a run for his money in the Hottest Man Alive area. When he came out, he informed us taht he was fully aware of who he was opening for and that he thought he was the "jalapeño popper appetizer before a Michelin five star meal." The adults in the room (five hundred parents and me) laughed heartily, the teens laughed probably because he said "jalapeño popper." He got his guitar all plugged in (it wasn't) and told us that he can't read music (thereby explaining the five harmonicas he had onstage--all different keys) and then he played some fine, fine tunes. Toward the end of his set, someone yelled out Freebird-style "SONIC BOOM!" to which Martin said "Okay," and changed whatever song he was planning to play to the song that made the Rolling Stone Top Ten Masturbation Songs list back in the early 90s. He told us the story, and I again laughed heartily when he discussed jerking off in front of a thousand teenage girls. The other adults did not laugh as heartily as I at this.
Then came intermission, which was about thirty hours long, before the amazing fabulousness of Idina was released upon us.
To be continued....
Yoga Molly called and let me know of her plans for the night--Irish Fest and the Flogging Molly concert--and we agreed that we'd meet after our concerts. Because, in just a few short hours, I would be sitting ten feet from the amazing, beautiful, fabulous, talented, amazing Idina Menzel. I bought tickets to see her earlier in the summer and decided that even if no one would go with me I'd be a big girl and go all by myself. And I did.
When I got to the Fitzgerald (before it opened, of course, because I'm an insanely early concert goer) I sat outside and read. When the doors opened, I and about a thousand of my thirteen-year-old fellow fans burst through the gate into our seats. The usher led me to my seat, and led me, and led me, and led me, all the way down to the third row. (I had, by the way, front row seats from Ticketmaster but was so freaked out by the possibility of sitting THAT CLOSE to Idina Menzel that I actually let them go.) Perfect.
The opening act was the brilliant and hilarious Martin Zellar. Who, I might add, gives writer Ethan Canin a run for his money in the Hottest Man Alive area. When he came out, he informed us taht he was fully aware of who he was opening for and that he thought he was the "jalapeño popper appetizer before a Michelin five star meal." The adults in the room (five hundred parents and me) laughed heartily, the teens laughed probably because he said "jalapeño popper." He got his guitar all plugged in (it wasn't) and told us that he can't read music (thereby explaining the five harmonicas he had onstage--all different keys) and then he played some fine, fine tunes. Toward the end of his set, someone yelled out Freebird-style "SONIC BOOM!" to which Martin said "Okay," and changed whatever song he was planning to play to the song that made the Rolling Stone Top Ten Masturbation Songs list back in the early 90s. He told us the story, and I again laughed heartily when he discussed jerking off in front of a thousand teenage girls. The other adults did not laugh as heartily as I at this.
Then came intermission, which was about thirty hours long, before the amazing fabulousness of Idina was released upon us.
To be continued....
Monday, August 11, 2008
The weekend was so big I need to break it up into parts...
Taking my last final on Thursday morning at 8am (ended up with an A, thank you!) started a four day frenzy of activity that I won't be recovered from for at least a few more days. Thursday and Friday I cleaned the house and got set up for my "social reincarnation soiree"--a party to celebrate my finishing summer classes and getting back in touch with all of the friends I've neglected for too long.
The party got going at around 6:30 when Erica showed up, followed shortly after by Jessie and Brian. Then Jodi arrived, and my parents came to take the dog and things got going. The highlight of the night was the opening of the Olympics, where everyone who isn't a smoker was glued from 7-11pm. It was really cool to see friends from drastically different areas of my life meet together and get along with one another. At one point I looked at Yoga Molly and said "this is the most eclectic group of people that could possibly be in a room together." The die-hards stayed up until about 2am and then we retired for the night.
It was a lot smaller gathering than I had planned, but enough people who were there promised me it was "intimate" rather than "totally lame" so I'm happy. It did remind me, though, why I have parties so infrequently. As an introvert, it's really strange for me to have a whole lot of people in my space. I love to have people over, but I'm really a lot happier with 4-5 people than I am with 30.
The next day Jessie, Brian, Rocket and I went to breakfast at the Teepee on the Rez, and the breakfast was so fucking good it was the only thing I ate all day without realizing it until the next morning when I woke up starving. I love the Teepee.
The party got going at around 6:30 when Erica showed up, followed shortly after by Jessie and Brian. Then Jodi arrived, and my parents came to take the dog and things got going. The highlight of the night was the opening of the Olympics, where everyone who isn't a smoker was glued from 7-11pm. It was really cool to see friends from drastically different areas of my life meet together and get along with one another. At one point I looked at Yoga Molly and said "this is the most eclectic group of people that could possibly be in a room together." The die-hards stayed up until about 2am and then we retired for the night.
It was a lot smaller gathering than I had planned, but enough people who were there promised me it was "intimate" rather than "totally lame" so I'm happy. It did remind me, though, why I have parties so infrequently. As an introvert, it's really strange for me to have a whole lot of people in my space. I love to have people over, but I'm really a lot happier with 4-5 people than I am with 30.
The next day Jessie, Brian, Rocket and I went to breakfast at the Teepee on the Rez, and the breakfast was so fucking good it was the only thing I ate all day without realizing it until the next morning when I woke up starving. I love the Teepee.
Thursday, August 07, 2008
Stick a fork in me...
I'm done with summer classes.
I'm sitting here in the Great Red Chair of Sleep with the entire day spread out before me. Gatsby needs to go to the vet and I need to go to the chiropractor, but other than that, the day is mine. I do not need to go to chemistry, take a quiz online, study flashcards, go to lab, or think of Normandale in any way, shape or form.
Bliss.
Tomorrow night is the Social Reincarnation Soiree---about 20 people coming to my house to hang and celebrate my doneness. I guess maybe I should spend part of this day of doing nothing cleaning the house. Hmmm..... or maybe I'll just curl up with Leif Enger's amazing Peace Like a River. Decisions, decisions.
I'm sitting here in the Great Red Chair of Sleep with the entire day spread out before me. Gatsby needs to go to the vet and I need to go to the chiropractor, but other than that, the day is mine. I do not need to go to chemistry, take a quiz online, study flashcards, go to lab, or think of Normandale in any way, shape or form.
Bliss.
Tomorrow night is the Social Reincarnation Soiree---about 20 people coming to my house to hang and celebrate my doneness. I guess maybe I should spend part of this day of doing nothing cleaning the house. Hmmm..... or maybe I'll just curl up with Leif Enger's amazing Peace Like a River. Decisions, decisions.
Sunday, July 06, 2008
My annual date with Roger Fererer
Ahh, Roger Federer. Once a year I get myself dressed up and prepared for my date with him at the Wimbledon championship game. Nadal has joined us the last three years, which I don't much care for, but I guess I can't complain too much. He gives my boy a run for his money which, essentially, extends our dates well into the afternoon. I don't see Federer during the year...once in awhile on manly-smelling-stuff commercials or on the occasional Open match, but I don't stalk. I don't seek him out.
Three years ago, back in '06, I had no idea who Roger Federer was. I knew a bit of tennis, like that Wimbledon was important, and I knew the Williams sisters and Steffi Graf, Andre Agassi, and, of course, John McEnroe. But I didn't know the scoring (love? deuce? what?) or care much who won.
But then, I was also dating Greg. Greg liked his tennis. And, as enthralled as he was with the game, he was equally irritated that I didn't understand the simple concept of tennis scoring, so he set out to explain it to me. We watched *lots* of tennis together throughout our tenure. What Greg didn't know, though, was that while he was explaining the scoring, I was listening with about 75% of my brain. The other 25% was devoted to wondering how exactly Roger Federer could have an ass that tight and still be able to move his legs independently of one another. Hinges, surely?
I never told Greg this because our only fight that held any weight was one where he got pissed at me because I was discussing my full-on crush on Johnny Depp. He was troubled by what he described as my "boy crazy" side. So, I left out that little detail about my evolving love and admiration for the Swiss, namely one Roger Federer. (Never mind that while he was on my ass about being in lust with a celebrity who lives in France and has two children with a French model, Greg was in love with a girl from, you know, like, down the street.)
But, fortunately, Federer isn't nearly as judgmental. He's content to allow me to watch him bounce around the court for a few hours once a year and doesn't mind that I *heart* Johnny Depp and a few other highly hot people. Ahh....I love championship Sunday.
Three years ago, back in '06, I had no idea who Roger Federer was. I knew a bit of tennis, like that Wimbledon was important, and I knew the Williams sisters and Steffi Graf, Andre Agassi, and, of course, John McEnroe. But I didn't know the scoring (love? deuce? what?) or care much who won.
But then, I was also dating Greg. Greg liked his tennis. And, as enthralled as he was with the game, he was equally irritated that I didn't understand the simple concept of tennis scoring, so he set out to explain it to me. We watched *lots* of tennis together throughout our tenure. What Greg didn't know, though, was that while he was explaining the scoring, I was listening with about 75% of my brain. The other 25% was devoted to wondering how exactly Roger Federer could have an ass that tight and still be able to move his legs independently of one another. Hinges, surely?
I never told Greg this because our only fight that held any weight was one where he got pissed at me because I was discussing my full-on crush on Johnny Depp. He was troubled by what he described as my "boy crazy" side. So, I left out that little detail about my evolving love and admiration for the Swiss, namely one Roger Federer. (Never mind that while he was on my ass about being in lust with a celebrity who lives in France and has two children with a French model, Greg was in love with a girl from, you know, like, down the street.)
But, fortunately, Federer isn't nearly as judgmental. He's content to allow me to watch him bounce around the court for a few hours once a year and doesn't mind that I *heart* Johnny Depp and a few other highly hot people. Ahh....I love championship Sunday.
Sunday, June 22, 2008
Paging Dr. Nash...
What have I done all weekend?
Math.
Literally, ONLY math. I ate a little, and by eating I mean I ingested and digested rational expressions, imaginary numbers, and the square of the hypotenuse. I did 54 pages of problems--front and back (54 of my pages, not the book. God only knows how many book pages I did). Oh, and I snuck in some yoga. Hey, I had to do *something* to clear my head of numbers, numbers, numbers.
The next time I decide to forgo math in place of going out and partying like it's my birthday, smack me. Seriously. As much fun as the week was, this weekend was sheer fucking hell. But I needed to do all eight sections in preparation for tomorrow morning's exam.
Okay, on to Biology. Quiz tomorrow on cell reproduction and then exam on Tuesday on photosynthesis, cell reproduction, and aerobic respiration. Funsies.
Math.
Literally, ONLY math. I ate a little, and by eating I mean I ingested and digested rational expressions, imaginary numbers, and the square of the hypotenuse. I did 54 pages of problems--front and back (54 of my pages, not the book. God only knows how many book pages I did). Oh, and I snuck in some yoga. Hey, I had to do *something* to clear my head of numbers, numbers, numbers.
The next time I decide to forgo math in place of going out and partying like it's my birthday, smack me. Seriously. As much fun as the week was, this weekend was sheer fucking hell. But I needed to do all eight sections in preparation for tomorrow morning's exam.
Okay, on to Biology. Quiz tomorrow on cell reproduction and then exam on Tuesday on photosynthesis, cell reproduction, and aerobic respiration. Funsies.
Friday, June 20, 2008
Closing out of Birthday 2008
Last night Yoga Molly took me out for dinner and drinks to celebrate my birthday. We went to Bonfire and ate pizza and drank Mojitos. It was fantastic--great conversation, great company, great food---a terrific way to close out my birthday week. I'm so glad that I met Molly and that we've become friends; she is absolutely fantastic.
Today I worked for two hours and then, theoretically, had the rest of the day to work. My body had other plans, though. I got home from school at around 10am, and then proceeded to lounge in the great red chair of sleep until, well, pretty much right now. I took a nap, ate some lunch, ate some dinner, graded a few grammar packets, but on the whole this day has been one of total mental release. I didn't realize how exhausted I was this week. Every week at this time, I guess. It's probably why I'm getting so freakishly emotional on Thursday nights and into Friday mornings. Or, maybe it's just that I'm a freakishly emotional person. Whichever.
I have to take 8 math quizzes this weekend to make up for celebrating my birthday in place of doing math all week. I have to do that so that I can take the chapter 10 test on Monday morning and go to yoga on Monday night. At least there's a nice reward at the end of it. I also have to study for bio, clean the house, and grade summer school work. What's most important, though, is that I utilize tonight to the max that I can. I always feel like I throw away Friday nights and end up stressing on Sunday nights. Hopefully I can do a lot of work tonight and then not be so crazy on Sunday.
We'll see.
Today I worked for two hours and then, theoretically, had the rest of the day to work. My body had other plans, though. I got home from school at around 10am, and then proceeded to lounge in the great red chair of sleep until, well, pretty much right now. I took a nap, ate some lunch, ate some dinner, graded a few grammar packets, but on the whole this day has been one of total mental release. I didn't realize how exhausted I was this week. Every week at this time, I guess. It's probably why I'm getting so freakishly emotional on Thursday nights and into Friday mornings. Or, maybe it's just that I'm a freakishly emotional person. Whichever.
I have to take 8 math quizzes this weekend to make up for celebrating my birthday in place of doing math all week. I have to do that so that I can take the chapter 10 test on Monday morning and go to yoga on Monday night. At least there's a nice reward at the end of it. I also have to study for bio, clean the house, and grade summer school work. What's most important, though, is that I utilize tonight to the max that I can. I always feel like I throw away Friday nights and end up stressing on Sunday nights. Hopefully I can do a lot of work tonight and then not be so crazy on Sunday.
We'll see.
Monday, June 16, 2008
Is it Friday yet?
Today in biology I tried so damn hard to stay awake--I really did. And I was successful, but there was a small problem. I was concentrating so hard on staying awake that most of what my prof was saying missed me almost entirely. I got all the notes and I think I mostly get what's going on, but it was brutal. The most brutal part being, of course, that just making it through class isn't enough; I also had to make it through a three hour lab where we measured shit in milliliters. Oi.
Fridays have significant meaning to me these days, since they are the only day of the week I don't have class. Mondays are five hour bio class and math, Tuesdays are usually exam days and now fiction class, Wednesdays are five hour bio class and math, Thursdays are the beginning of the descent--two hour class, math, yoga (yay!)....and then blissful Friday. Those first three days of the week, though, man, Dude. TGIF.
Now, of course, I have to study for biology. The test tomorrow is on bacteria, intro to metabolism, and membranes. Oh, and archaea. Whatever those are. HA!
Fridays have significant meaning to me these days, since they are the only day of the week I don't have class. Mondays are five hour bio class and math, Tuesdays are usually exam days and now fiction class, Wednesdays are five hour bio class and math, Thursdays are the beginning of the descent--two hour class, math, yoga (yay!)....and then blissful Friday. Those first three days of the week, though, man, Dude. TGIF.
Now, of course, I have to study for biology. The test tomorrow is on bacteria, intro to metabolism, and membranes. Oh, and archaea. Whatever those are. HA!
Sunday, August 12, 2007
Uncle!!
I'm going back to work tomorrow. I can't take it anymore. My brain has atrophed. My body has atrophed. I know that one day back for a few hours should pretty much take care of any desire I have to be back at work, but it's definitely something I need to do. I certainly don't want to waste valuable summer time being bored; in two months time I'll be offering someone a million dollars to turn back time to right now.
Sunday, August 27, 2006
Like sand through the hourglass....
So are the days left in my summer vacation.
Tonight I am savoring my alone time, because in less than 48 hours "alone time" will cease to exist in my world. My world will become a whirlwind of "everyone else comes first" for the next nine months, until June rolls around for my reprieve.
I ate popcorn tonight for dinner and drank a beer. I watched big brother, pausing, rewinding and slow motioning to my heart's content.
I read my book, King Dork, which is my new favorite book (although the first 100 pages could really have been cut down to, oh, say, 50 pages).
I watched Dick Clark on the Emmys and cried, but just a little.
I downloaded my First Ave. Bootlegs CD.
Finally, I made my "Get Up and Go" playlist. It's one hour of music, designed to get me from the shower to out-the-door ready to face my day without gritting my teeth too much.
Here's the list (although the order is subject--in fact likely--to change)
1. Calling All Nations: INXS
2. Better Days: The Jayhawks
3. Morning Train: Sheena Easton
4. Accidentally In Love: Counting Crows
5. Son of a Preacher Man: Dusty Springfield
6. Bend & Break: Keane
7. Break My Stride: Matthew Wilder
8. Unwritten: Natasha Bedingfield
9. Sexbomb (Peppermint Disco Mix): Tom Jones
10. They Don't Know: Tracey Ullman
11. Just Lose It: Eminem
12. I Do: Lisa Loeb
13. Holding Out for a Hero: Bonnie Tyler
14. Never Surrender: Corey Hart
15. Girls Just Want to Have Fun: Cyndi Lauper
Thoughts?
Tonight I am savoring my alone time, because in less than 48 hours "alone time" will cease to exist in my world. My world will become a whirlwind of "everyone else comes first" for the next nine months, until June rolls around for my reprieve.
I ate popcorn tonight for dinner and drank a beer. I watched big brother, pausing, rewinding and slow motioning to my heart's content.
I read my book, King Dork, which is my new favorite book (although the first 100 pages could really have been cut down to, oh, say, 50 pages).
I watched Dick Clark on the Emmys and cried, but just a little.
I downloaded my First Ave. Bootlegs CD.
Finally, I made my "Get Up and Go" playlist. It's one hour of music, designed to get me from the shower to out-the-door ready to face my day without gritting my teeth too much.
Here's the list (although the order is subject--in fact likely--to change)
1. Calling All Nations: INXS
2. Better Days: The Jayhawks
3. Morning Train: Sheena Easton
4. Accidentally In Love: Counting Crows
5. Son of a Preacher Man: Dusty Springfield
6. Bend & Break: Keane
7. Break My Stride: Matthew Wilder
8. Unwritten: Natasha Bedingfield
9. Sexbomb (Peppermint Disco Mix): Tom Jones
10. They Don't Know: Tracey Ullman
11. Just Lose It: Eminem
12. I Do: Lisa Loeb
13. Holding Out for a Hero: Bonnie Tyler
14. Never Surrender: Corey Hart
15. Girls Just Want to Have Fun: Cyndi Lauper
Thoughts?
Thursday, August 24, 2006
Five day countdown
Today was my 5th last day of summer vacation. I did not spend it the way I wanted to, but instead narrowly missed death by gargantuan sized hail in Northfield, then came home and was so exhausted by the ordeal that instead of getting work done I took a nap.
Tomorrow I need to be at school for, like, my whole life. Just the day, really. Then tomorrow night I'm going to do something. Watch a movie, maybe. Who knows.
Tomorrow I need to be at school for, like, my whole life. Just the day, really. Then tomorrow night I'm going to do something. Watch a movie, maybe. Who knows.
Thursday, August 17, 2006
Summer Tumult
Well, it's been an interesting two days.
Yesterday I got a letter in the mail from the loft saying that I had received Honorable Mention in this year's mentor series. It took me all day and most of the night to internalize this and believe that it actually happened. An honorable mention means that I just barely missed getting in--I was either next in line or second to next, as there are two honorable mentions given.
And my writing group broke up this morning. We've been struggling for awhile, trying to keep things going when a lot of the joy was gone. People reprioritized, and it was pretty clear that things weren't working. I'm pretty upset. It's not a surprise; I knew it was coming. But it doesn't make it any easier. I've grown so close to them, come to rely on them, and I guess there's just something with me and writing groups that doesn't work, since this is the second I've had in as many years that hasn't worked out.
(and for you non-writers out there that are sitting there snickering saying 'sounds like she's describing a relationship'.....I am. A writing group becomes so much more than just a writing group. There are feelings there, and expectations.)
So I'm going to enter a time of celibacy in the writing group world. I know there are groups that would welcome me if I asked (some members of which are probably reading this) but I need a break for awhile. It's just gotten to be too much.
And, by the way, this is way too much stress for the summer. I begin school (workshops) in 12 days.
Yesterday I got a letter in the mail from the loft saying that I had received Honorable Mention in this year's mentor series. It took me all day and most of the night to internalize this and believe that it actually happened. An honorable mention means that I just barely missed getting in--I was either next in line or second to next, as there are two honorable mentions given.
And my writing group broke up this morning. We've been struggling for awhile, trying to keep things going when a lot of the joy was gone. People reprioritized, and it was pretty clear that things weren't working. I'm pretty upset. It's not a surprise; I knew it was coming. But it doesn't make it any easier. I've grown so close to them, come to rely on them, and I guess there's just something with me and writing groups that doesn't work, since this is the second I've had in as many years that hasn't worked out.
(and for you non-writers out there that are sitting there snickering saying 'sounds like she's describing a relationship'.....I am. A writing group becomes so much more than just a writing group. There are feelings there, and expectations.)
So I'm going to enter a time of celibacy in the writing group world. I know there are groups that would welcome me if I asked (some members of which are probably reading this) but I need a break for awhile. It's just gotten to be too much.
And, by the way, this is way too much stress for the summer. I begin school (workshops) in 12 days.
Sunday, August 06, 2006
Ahh....sweet, sweet football
It's the biggest sigh of relief all summer since the last day of school.
I've got my windows open with a marginally cool breeze flowing through my house,
My dog is keeping a close watch on any interlopers that may come near the patio,
I'm doing curriculum planning but I don't need to be,
And last, but not least, I'M WATCHING FOOTBALL.
Sweet football, the Raiders vs. the Eagles, and I am one happy girl.
I've got my windows open with a marginally cool breeze flowing through my house,
My dog is keeping a close watch on any interlopers that may come near the patio,
I'm doing curriculum planning but I don't need to be,
And last, but not least, I'M WATCHING FOOTBALL.
Sweet football, the Raiders vs. the Eagles, and I am one happy girl.
Wednesday, July 26, 2006
2am and I'm still awake writing this song...
So, the inevitable has occurred. I thought that since this was the Summer of Thirty that I should try to sleep like an adult, so I tried to be in bed by eleven or midnight and wake up around eight or nine. This worked just fine through this past weekend, but the last few nights I've been awake until 2am or so and sleeping until 10am. This is a terrible time for this schedule to start because in, GASP, a month and three days, I have to go back to work and be ready to teach the minds of tomorrow at 7:20am.
I woke up this morning at 8:30 but then I had to go and ruin it by taking a nap from 10:30 to 11:30.
I woke up this morning at 8:30 but then I had to go and ruin it by taking a nap from 10:30 to 11:30.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)