Standing in the computer lab...
and talking to myself. Yup, that's what I'm doing this lovely morning. I'm supposed to be chatting with Ms. K (as this is really one of the few times I am online when she is). I'm supposed to be getting all my morning angst/laughs out so I can go to class and be productive and learn. (Has anyone noticed this need of mine to be productive? Ms. NYC and I believe this is a direct result of the school we went to growing up. We don't know how to relax and enjoy ourselves without feeling guilty). Anywho, I'm here, and she is not. Well, not in cyber space here. How do I chat and procrastinate with no one to talk to? Hm???
Work is silly. They have these completely unfounded rules about getting your job finished, and not playing/chatting on company time. Silly, silly bosses.
Writing? What's that?
Thank you my dear friend Serena
, for introducing me to the joy that is Firefly. Of course, I've managed to get just about nothing done as I work my way through disc 2 of 4.
Yes dear readers, I've found a new show of joy. Of course, it's a show that only lasted for one season. Still, it's a show from the wonderous Joss Whedon, so life is good, even if only temporarily. And this weekend the Firefly movie, Serenity, will be released.
Of course, watching Firefly means that I'm accomplishing no work of any kind. I managed to get some Classroom Management reading done last night, but only minimal pages over the weekend. And before you asked, yes, I did do things other than watch t.v. this weekend. I went to work, I had a facial, I met mom for one of our long bike rides, I ran around to multiple grocery stores, and I helped mizzz_k
move into her new condo. So see, I was productive! Just not productive where I should have been.
*takes a small bow* I survived my first field week session for the quarter. Now I'm semi-free for the next week until my real classes start. Only semi-free because of my lo-ovely work schedule. So far I'm scheduled to work 6 meetings this week. I've got one down and five more to go. Remind me in the future not to be so helpful, k? Since I have this week off (sort of), I'm intending to be highly productive, in order to give myself a bit of a cushion when it comes to finishing off my current WIP. Part of me has started panicking at the idea of finishing seven chapters in just about three months. Even at two chapters a month, it's a tight schedule. So, I'm going to try to make the most of it. Cross your fingers for me!
In other news, it sounds like there's a bout of full-moon-madness going around, messing with peoples' lives. Why can't this energy be of the creative kind, hm? Why must it always sap instead of restore? I really want to know this.
Mentos has come out with a sugar free version. What is up with that? Aren't they basically all sugar?
In other news, I covered a meeting in Bellevue tonight. Apparently I've made quite the impression on them, because they want me back. Too bad I can't pick it up permanently. I'd love to, but for the sake of all that is good in my life, I must learn to say no. They wanted to know if I could cover in two weeks, and I had to pass due to Rosh Hashanah. This, of course, reminded the Leader for the meeting that she needs to find a sub, and that also many in the class will be out. I made the joke that, "Oh, so this is the meeting to work if I'm looking for a nice, Jewish man." She jumped all over it. Apparently that is THE meeting for it. Lots of Jewish couples with single sons. Hmmmmm....Sleep? What's sleep? Who needs that? I can work another meeting, right?
Okay, maybe not. But I can dream.
****NOTE**** They have no mood tag for "bemused". That's just wrong.
So very, very tired...
I realized I've been slightly lax in my posting as of late. This is what happens when I dive head first back into the world of teaching, especially while still maintaining a work schedule. Will I ever learn my lesson?
I've never been good at saying no. I'll go and go and go until I drop, and then wonder what the hell just happened. I've talked with old high school friends about it, and they seem to suffer from the same malady. We blame our school. They bred us to be multitasking over-achievers.
The student teaching is going well, for all who wonder. Great class, great CT. We're starting to figure out the areas where I need to focus/work on. Like classroom management. To say I struggle with it is putting it mildly. On the upside, she's giving me lots of opportunities to practice. I've been teaching at least one lesson (however short) a day. Sadly, tomorrow is my last field day for a month. A week from tomorrow the actual classes start, and that's when I'll really start to be crazy.
I love the kids, and I love learning. But the fatigue has a direct reflection in my writing. It's been really difficult for me to go from 20+ pages a week, to barely managing 10. It's a hard thing for me to reconcile. The part of me that wrote all summer wants those days back. The rational part of me knows I can only do so much.
I think its safe to say that for the rest of you, it should be fairly entertaining to watch me over the next several months. If anything, it will teach you what not to do with your life.
Happy, happy, joy, joy (or why apartment living is not all it's cracked up to be)...
Usually I can't complain about my neighbors. They are friendly (when we actually run into each other), reasonably quiet (except the new ones who actually tried blasting music in the room next to my bedroom at 1 a.m.), and altogether not serial killers (that I can tell).
However, there are some major downsides to living in an apartment. 1) The walls are thin. 2) My one neighbor's entertainment center is right against my living room wall. 3) She has surround sound, and the bass pumps right against my wall (and then continues to vibrate in my ears). 4) She is taking singing lessons of some kind. 5) she feels the need to practice her scales at almost 10pm at night, in her living room (which butts up against mine). 6) She feels the need to use her keyboard (don't think it's an actual piano) to practice said scales. 7) She thinks she's a soprano, but i can tell you from experience, she's a mezzo-soprano at best, and needs to stop trying to hit that High C.
Actually, she needs to take the practicing to another room...
The perverse, evil being in me wants to go out and buy a Yiddish CD (or maybe a Klezmer band CD) and blast it into her wall at 6 a.m., when she is trying to sleep. Just to share how it feels.
I probably won't though. I'm not sure where I would find a decent Yiddish CD. And I don't think I have any earplugs good enough to keep the assault from my own ears.
It's a wet, wet, wet, wet world...
The rains have returned to Washington. After almost two whole months of sun, the rains have returned. I awoke this morning to the sounds of pouring rain outside my windows. A bit ominous, considering that I was supposed to do the AIDS Walk 2005 this morning. After a call to mizzz_k
(who's been kind of under the weather) to confirm that she was still planning to walk, I geared myself up for it. We arrive to long lines, rainy weather, and the news that the walk was no longer a 5k walk, but had been shortened to 1 mile. Not sure as to the reasons for this, but there you have it. The walk is now a one mile jaunt through Capital Hill. As always, regardless of the weather, the people were festive, and ready for a party (so to speak). 5000 walkers signed up to walk this year, to help raise awareness of the disease and money for the Lifelong AIDS Alliance. Walk Volunteers lined the streets with noisemakers and...water bottles? Yes, ladies and gentleman, regardless of the fact we were only walking one mile, they had "water stands" set up every quarter mile. As if the rain water wasn't enough! I mean, seriously, no one was walking fast enough to need water, let alone, walking fast enough to need water every few hundred feet. Just about cracked me up.
For anyone still interested in donating, you can still do so here
In other news, my sister is now 22. aaahhh!! Not sure how this one happened, but it did. Someone allowed her to grow up. We went up to spend the afternoon with her. Gotta love family time. Mom also broke the news to her that she and step-dad will be out of town for Thanksgiving. She took it about as well as I did. Tee hee! Never let it be said we haven't learned how to give good guilt.
Also, on the book front Cathy Yardley, author of Couch World and LA Woman, has a new book coming out at the end of the year. Based on the excerpt, Surf Girl School should be another winner. Go check it out!
It's definitely getting harder to make my page committments now that I'm back in school. Right now I'm in the field, and the nights I haven't come home with a raging headache, I've been so tired all I've wanted to do was go to sleep. It should be interesting to see if the next week is any easier. Cross your fingers! Now, off to write!
No, I'm sorry, I'm not with the FBI...
But I swear, the next unknown person to ask me that will receive the following response, "No, sorry, I'm actually with ATF". Maybe that way they will stop trying to give me "presents". To further explain, mizzz_k
and I went to the Bumbershoot Festival yesterday. Twice actually. Once in the morning to get passes for the mainstage show, and once in the evening for the mainstage show went went to get passes for. Confused yet? The show in discussion was Marc Broussard
, an amazing singer out of Louisiana (about 100 miles away from New Orleans). This guy has ENERGY. I'd been waiting months to see him live, and it was well worth the wait. Definitely, if you're looking for a great new musician, check him out. Anywho, in the middle of his set, some strange man standing right behind Ms. K practically yells in her ear something to the effect of, "Do you see him?!" Ms. K, perverse woman that she is, yells back, "No I don't!" Apparently this was the secret code to the man, because he came back about two minutes later to ask if we were FBI. When we responded in the negative, he offered us a "present". Having learned early on never to accept presents from strangers, backed up and said, "Thanks, but no thanks". But next time? Next time I'm with the CIA, or ATF, or something equally impressive.
On other fronts, I hate when my mother is right. I'm sure many of you can agree with this feeling. Even worse is having to admit she's right. That part always sucks. Mom tells me that she always knows when she's right, because I turn all red in the face. Nice to know I'm so easy to read. She knows me too well. It's scary sometimes. Again, proven when I went to visit this morning. She came into the kitchen and said, "I've got to tell you something and you're not going to be happy." Here I am thinking she's going to tell me she's moving far away. Or worse, that someone died. But no, she's informing me that instead of our annual Thanksgiving trip to Whistler, her and my step-dad are going to Mexico. Without me and my sister. Which means I'm alone for Thanksgiving. *sigh* Not that I feel it's all that important of a holiday. If you really want to get me started I can go on about how it's mostly all made up to make us feel better about annihalating almost an entire race of people. Half my family hates turkey (unless it's sliced for sandwiches). The other half would rather have Chinese food anyway. It's more the principle of it. Ms. K, in all her best friend abilities, worked the guilt angle all day long. I've got good friends.
So there you have it. I'm not in a secret government agency, my mother is right, and I'm home alone for Turkey Day. Sounds like an accomplished weekend, all things considered. Also, tomorrow is the first day of school, so things may be a bit wonky for a while. Bear with me please.