Gluttony

If I were ever to be guilty of one of the seven deadly sins, it would easily be gluttony. No, this is not a post about body issues, but a post about my love of food. I love food. I think I also love the act of eating, and it's comforting to me. When people are sad or depressed and say, "I just can't eat," I just don't get it. I can always eat, and I don't really have a "full" switch.

Until three days ago.

I don't know what my body is doing, but it isn't hungry. I'm not sick, I don't feel nauseous...I just don't have any desire to eat. I can think of some brides that would think, "Sweeet! Now I can lose 5 lbs. for the wedding!", and I hate to look a gift horse in the mouth but the truth is, I have a dress, and I need it to fit, and I don't need to lose any weight.

But, in the spirit of living life to the fullest, I've been trying to ride this wave of non-hunger, and see what it feels like to be a normal person, for whom thought of the next meal are not constantly on one's mind. In a way, it's kind of cool -- I feel like I can get more done with one less thing on my mind (and believe me, there is a lot on my mind this week!). It's also given me a chance to reflect on my regular eating behavior and mindset about food, and whether or not that's really healthy. On the one hand, I enjoy that I don't freak out about food and don't have those body image problems I did as a teenager (can you say "unfun?"). I enjoy being able to tell my students (especially my girls), "I love food," hopefully normalizing food for them and making it a not-scary object, giving them a different point of view than they may see in the media. On the other hand, from a health standpoint, I probably should eat a bit less, and I do ride that fine BMI line between "healthy" and "overweight" (this is, mind you, strictly medically speaking. Once again...I am not complaining about my body). In the end, I know it's all about "making healthy choices," a mantra that is repeated ad nauseum at work.

So, we'll see how long this little streak lasts but of all the times for food to become less appealing and less time-consuming, I suppose this is a good one. I have programs to print and errands to run and checks to mail and family and friends coming in this week to entertain.

I just hope that my appetite returns for the wedding cake.

Whirlwind

Christmas is fast approaching, and I got my shopping done early.

The wedding is coming, and things are...well for the most part, done. I'm crocheting myself iteration 4 of my shrug to wear over my dress because, you know, we have a foot of snow on the ground and it's cold. If I have time to make 4 shrugs/cardigans (plus one for Ann), I can't be in too bad shape, right?

I'm applying to grad school again. To get licensed to teach SS and English. Collective groan for more school. BUT, logically it makes a lot of sense. 1) I can earn more money eventually if I am licensed in VT. 2) I get to teach subjects I ENJOY! 3) When children come (not now, not in the next year, but in the next 3 or 4), I will be done with schooling. For now. We'll see where our location sets us this summer when Andy graduates, and whether this program pans out, but the application, if nothing else, opens up some doors, which is never a bad thing.

Wedding gifts have started arriving. What fun!

Great Grandma's cinnamon rolls are coming up for Christmas day, and I made buckeyes this weekend. Chava, dear, behold the midwest treat (which you probably know about, but if not...try them).

Buckeyes

1 lb peanut butter
1.5 lb powdered sugar (but realistically, it will probably take extra to get the right consistency)
2 sticks butter/margarine
Mix above ingredients, and add powdered sugar to obtain cookie-dough-like consistency.
Put in fridge for about half an hour or so to firm up the mixture. Then, roll small balls of mixture, place them on a plate or cookie sheet, and refrigerate again for about 10 minutes (again, to firm up).

Melt in double broiler:
6 oz chocolate chips
1/4 stick paraffin wax
(May need to double or triple for appropriate depth)

Spear peanut butter balls with toothpicks, and dip most of the way into the chocolate, leaving a small circle of tan on top of the buckeye. Place back on cookie sheet/plate and refrigerate for a bit (20 minutes or so should do it, but longer won't hurt).

Pack into tins and give to all your friends! YAY!

Anticipation

Advent is a nice time. I've never thought of it too intensely, but it's always festive and bright and lovely at Mass during the Christmas season, and it reminds me to prepare for Christmas in the right way.

This year, the anticipation of Christmas is doubled because, you see, shortly after Christmas another big day is coming for which we are also preparing...the wedding. I'm happy that we've decided to do a holiday wedding. The timing is nice, it will also be festive and bright, and I'll get to see many important people around an important time of year. But tally-ho are things busy around here!

I've said to my local friends a few times that I feel as if this is the first time I've really had a chance to celebrate the holidays since I began college. Every other year has been too busy and focused on things outside of the holiday season -- college, papers, project, grading, testing, etc. But this year, with a job that lets me, for the most part, leave the work at work, and with the Affianced and I having our own home (humble though our apartment may be), we've had a chance to decorate our first tree, put out my Nativity set for the first time in years, enjoy the Christmas specials on TV (along with an absurd amount of House), and it's been really nice.

So, although busy, this particular Advent season has been twice-anticipatory, and I'm getting more and more excited about both big days that are coming up!

Insanity

When it rains it pours.

Life is good right now, but oh-so-hectic. It's the beginning of the trimester, which is alternately good and slightly insane. There's a new group of kids, new topics, which is fun and interesting, but the bad news is that in this first three weeks, we need to write unit plans.

I can hardly complain; at my old job, we had to turn in lesson plans for EVERY DAY. Now, we just have to turn in one vague document at the beginning of the trimester outlining what we're doing, and that's it. Done. So it's not such a big deal. But it is more work that the rest of the trimester, and it's a lot at once. Add on top of that the small matter of a wedding, and life can be pretty crazy.

I had an interesting conversation with my supervisor last week, about the rubrics we write that go along with the unit plans. I was asking her about some logistics in writing and using rubrics to assess students, and she said to me, "You know, I've meant to tell you...your rubrics are way detailed." The underlying hint was, "Dude, you don't need to work so hard." I've seen some rubrics/unit plans from other teachers, which, to be fair, are far more simplified, and I can see the appeal in that -- quicker to get done, can apply to more than one student, more flexibility on a class to class basis, etc. And I struggle with things like this, when I know that I could very well make things easier on myself and still be within the acceptable range. But I have a drive to overthink, overdo, overplan, and it really helps me to go into class feeling prepared. I know what's coming up week to week, I know the trajectory my students and I are taking, and coming from an education background, I can't feel ok with NOT giving each student and their class the personal attention of a thoughtful and personalized unit. So I toil, and give in to my slightly OCD nature on things like this, getting everything done just so. It's dually a gift and a burden, like so many things.

Meme

For dear Chava, who tagged me:

Time for the MeMe... :-) The rules state that you must answer each question with only one word, so here goes:

1. Where is your cell phone? Bookbag

2. Where is your significant other? Computer

3. Your hair color? Boring

4. Your mother? Catholic

5. Your father? To-the-point

6. Your favorite thing? Food

7. Your dream last night? None

8. Your dream/goal? Improvement

9. The room you’re in? Bedroom

11. Your fear? Boredom

12. Where do you want to be in 6 years? Canada

13. Where were you last night? Sleep

14. What you’re not? Touchy-feely

15. One of your wish-list items? Warmth

16. Where you grew up? Ohio

17. The last thing you did? Reading

18. What are you wearing? Slippers

19. Your TV? Off

20. Your pet? None

21. Your computer? Lifeline

22. Your mood? Weekend!

23. Missing someone? Family

24. Your car? Eloise

25. Something you’re not wearing? Cheese

26. Favorite store? Target

27. Your summer? Beautiful

28. Love someone? Yes

29. Your favorite color? Green

30. When is the last time you laughed? Cribbage

31. Last time you cried? Hmmm


I'm supposed to tag five blogs. I don't know five blogs. So, I tag Sarah and Ann, and remind Ann that her blog was really wonderful for the month is lasted and perhaps it should start up again. :)

Pro-Life and the Election

I don't keep up with many blogs, but I have a gateway into the Catholic blogosphere through dear Mimsy and Sarah. I enjoy the weekly Catholic Carnival (although I rarely have the time to read it thoroughly), and have found some good posts through it.

But one thing that has consistently irked me throughout the past election season are the Pro-Life/Pro-McCain/Anti-Obama-on-the-basis-of-his-pro-choice-stand posts that turn up again and again. Now, to lay it honestly on the table...I personally would consider myself to be pro-life in the sense that I hope and pray that abortion would end. But most Catholics would disagree with my self-label, because I don't think abortion should be illegal. I think this presents a host of tough logistical issues (i.e. more "back-room" and even more unsafe abortions inevitably happening with less quality medical care and safety for mothers/patients), and I also think it's a bad band-aid for the problems of people having unwanted pregnancies (such as lack of education, poverty, etc.). I know I'm liberal on this, and I know many Catholics disagree, and I'm ok with that. There it is.

Having said that, the aspect of this whole thing that bothers me, is that the bloggers who post about their pro-McCain status and claim the pro-life issue as the most important issue ignore a crucial fact: Both the candidates were pro-death penalty. It frustrates me to no end that the pro-life movement consistently ignores this facet of the "life" issue when painting McCain as a rosy pro-lifer because he opposes abortion. Abortion is not the only life issue at hand. One of the anthems of the pro-life movement is "respect for life at all stages, from conception to natural death." Lethal injection, electric chair, etc = unnatural death.

I'm not saying, by any means, that Obama was a better candidate for the life issue. He wasn't, and isn't. But I get very angry at the selective filter that I so often see Catholics apply to the information they receive and share, and this was a huge instance of that. I think it makes us look ignorant and inconsistent, and the world needs to see a better sense of logic from us, or at the very least an acknowledgement that some matters are far more grey than we care to admit; in this case, that so many Catholic's pro-life candidate isn't a perfect pro-lifer.

Stuffing

A friend who, God knows, knows her way around the kitchen, asked for my stuffing recipe. To be fair, it is Dad's stuffing recipe, and, to be more fair, to call it a "recipe" seems generous. It is, rather, a "throw-together" of ingredients in quantities to suit ones needs and tastes.

George was not the primary cook in our house growing up. He did, however, have a few staples he contributed on an occasional basis i.e. chili, grilled cheese and tomato soup, biscuits and gravy, and all things grilled. In my adulthood, I have called home several times to request his recipes, and I get a vague list of ingredients and a set of the aforementioned "throw together" directions. This generally suits me just fine, as I tend to care little for measuring and precision in my cooking (I have learned throughout time that these virtues are more important to baking, however, and try to stick to them).

So, for dear Astra Libris, here is George's Thanksgiving Stuffing.

George's Stuffing

Some celery
Some onions
Some (lots of) butter
Some (more than you think you need) toast
Some (chicken) broth
Some salt
Some pepper
Some poultry seasoning

Directions:
1. Toast bread to light golden. Or charred burniness. Or slight crispness with mushy insides. It doesn't really matter. Let sit for awhile. Break or cut into cubes or small pieces and soak in chicken broth. (I added an old stale corn muffin to my bread "crumbs." It was good. I also used all bread heels since Andy and I tend not to like them for usual bread use.)

2. Sautee some celery and some onions in butter (lots if it's Thanksgiving and you're going for flavor, less if you're watching your figure). Let cook to desired crunchiness (totally soggy for me).

3. Drain excess broth from bread crumbs, or don't, if you like really moist stuffing. Mix veggies into bread. Add liberal amounts of salt or pepper, and more than liberal amounts of poultry seasoning.

4. Bake inside or outside bird. Consume in mass quantities.

Thanksgiving

When I was growing up, I remember getting up "early" on Thanksgiving (which is relative when you have a father that rises at 6:00 am regardless of day of the week), and smelling toast. It was Dad's beginning of homemade stuffing, and it was my favorite thing to help with when I was younger.

Today is my first Thanksgiving alone, and although it's kind of sad in some ways, it's also my first chance to cook a Thanksgiving meal by myself, too, which is kind of exciting. I'm not going all out -- I bought Turkey fillets instead of a bird or breast, and, frankly, my mashed potatoes are coming from a box. But I did do the homemade stuffing thing, and it's smelling pretty awesome in the oven right now.

It's also nice because today I have the chance to make Thanksgiving anything I want it to be. I got up this morning to go to Mass, which was lovely. After the homily, everyone in the church brought up the bags of groceries they had brought to church as an offering for the needy, which was a really nice symbolic thing for Thanksgiving. I felt like a bum because I hadn't brought anything, but the giving tree is up in the back of the church, so I think Andy and I will take a couple of the family needs from there this weekend to buy for Christmas.

After Mass, I put on my iPod, queued up George Winston's Winter album, and went for a walk in the park. The weather here in Thanksgiving-perfect. Chilly, but not cold at all, a bit windy, and a little overcast. The park was pretty empty, but really nice, and I felt very autumnal.

And now, the mini-pies are in the oven, the turkey and stuffing are baking, and I'm awaiting a phone call from the extended fam at home. Life is good.

Flex class

Today at work, we got our new schedules for the next trimester. This is an exciting thing, because we learn not only what we're going to be teaching (very broadly), but who we're going to be working with as far as students are concerned. My schedule this time had a big cool surprise: I get to work in a couple of flex classes, which are small, interdisciplinary classes with groups of students and teachers.

This is unusual for our school. Generally, the work we do with students is strictly one-on-one, but as students become comfortable being in groups and develop the skills to handle such interactions appropriately, they might move into one of these classes. Today, as I sat with two of the other three teachers and worked on planning out the first day of class, I was struck by how "intentional" we had to be as far as creating a group was concerned.

Now, "intentional" is a word that gets thrown around a lot at our school, to the point where it sometimes begins to feel meaningless. But being intentional is a big part of the work we do. We try to make sure that our students have intentional interactions with other students, as opposed to unplanned interactions. We try to make sure that the ways we speak to our students and the things we teach them are intentional, that we've thought them through in terms of their academic and therapeutic needs. It doesn't always play out to be quite as intense as it sounds, but it's a good overarching idea to keep in the back of our mind as we go through a day working with students who have the kinds of needs that our students do.

With this flex class, though, we did have to be exceptionally intentional about building up the idea of a group with these students. Luckily, all of them have had group learning experiences in the past, but in building relationship with one another in this context, we had to really think through the way we were going to address thinking of ourselves as a class; how we were going to help students' come to realizations about what they can expect from the group and what they can do to contribute to the group. It was an interesting process, and it really made me stop and think about why we do things as slowly and, yes, intentionally, as we do in our school.

It also made me realize how exceptionally lucky most of us are that we can build these types of relationships with one another without such intense guidance; but also how it really IS possible for our students to make progress (even when they seem like they can't) as long as someone is willing to take the time to break things down for them. Working in this job has really given me an appreciation of "individual differences," as we call it in education, and of the benefits of taking things slow. I've really had some epiphanies about what kind of person I am (quick thinking and quick moving and always busy with my hands in something) and the benefits of being another type of person with different kinds of gifts. I feel like I've done as much work on myself in this job as I've done with the students, which is hard but also very gratifying.

Name change update

Today, I was talking to George, and he asked, "Hey, what's your last name?"

Clearly, it is still WXXXXX, but he was asking about the post-wedding name decision.

"It's undecided," I told him.
"Well, that's less decisive that the last time I talked. Look at you, turning traditional and anti-Vermont on us."
While that sunk in, I realized he thought I was deciding between hyphenating or taking the Affianced's name. "Uh, no...the decision is between hyphenating or not changing at all."
"Oh...so you are going all Vermont on us."
"Yeah."
"Well, good luck with that.

Trimester Fair

Thursday was the Trimester Fair at school, which was a really awesome celebration of all the work that our students have been doing over the past few months. On this day, all of the teachers hang up or set out our students' final project, which range from posters to drawing to cartoon to photographs to essays to webpages to construction projects and furniture. It was a really beautiful display of diverse interests and learning, and I was so thankful to be able to see all of the student work. At the end of the day, our students' families and "teams" (people like social workers or guardians) came to see the work as well, and the students led a tour of the buildings, showing their team their projects. It was so awesome to see some of my very quiet students interacting with their families in an almost ranbunctious (and certainly very proud) manner as they showed off the work they did. I was so proud of them! I also got several compliments on one of the projects my student did especially, the one about Islam and Terrorism. It was really cool to see my students come to important concluions (i.e. Islam does not equal terrorism) on his own.

I'm thankful that the school takes the time to recognize these student achievements, as it would be very easy to just move through to the next trimester without taking the time to bask and celebrate. But that time was so important, and I'm very thankful to have been a part of it.

Get the ball rolling

An assortment of random information/stories to get the blogging-ball rolling again.

Touched base with an old high school friend the other day, which was really wonderful, as I hadn't talked to her in ages and ages. We weren't super close, but she's a kind soul, and we've had a nice exchange of e-mails.

Tomorrow is the trimester fair, where our students display the projects they've been working on throughout the trimester. I put up all of my students' projects today, and my room is beautiful and full of accomplishment. I'm proud of the work we've done.

Funny school story: Last week, one of my students was making a poster of his "dairy farm," for which he had "bought equipment" the following week. "You still need to draw the tractor, and wagon, and pick-up trucks," I told him.
"They're there...they're invisible," he replied.
"Oh...well, tell you what. I won't make you draw them again, but could you just trace over the invisible ones so I can see them a little better."
(*Score one genius point for me.)

Next week, we get new work schedules -- new kids, new classes, new projects -- which I am looking forward to with equal parts trepidation and excitement. More work, but at least something different.

Andy is leaving me for Thanksgiving. I am sad to have him gone, but happy to have the apartment to myself. Also, I am making myself Thanksgiving dinner anyway. So there. Thank you to Mammy's care package of boxes of mashed potatoes and stuffing!

Wedding RSVPs are coming in, and BOY are they exciting. A lot of people aren't going to be able to make it, which I knew, but I LOVE keeping track of who is coming and what reply ratio we have, etc...have I mentioned I love Microsoft Excel?

That is all for now. Off for Top Chef!

Mosque

I keep meaning to post about this, and just not doing it.

This past week, I took one of my students to visit the Islamic Society of Vermont's offices and mosque. My student and I have been learning about Islam, and doing some work with 9/11, terrorism, and Al-Qaeda and how it all fits together, and I was thinking that meeting someone who was Muslim and having a chance to see where they worshiped would be a good experience for him.

The mosque was a small building, and you could tell it served many purposes -- community gathering place, school of sorts, as well as having prayer space. But the gentleman who guided us ad gave us information was just phenomenal -- very down to earth and normal, which was a good experience for my student, to see that Muslims are very much like everyone else. We asked our guide about Ramandan, and about what it means to be Islam, and how he feels about Al-Qaeda and the war in Iraq (which is "I can't judge whether they are Muslim or not, but I can say that they are doing very bad actions" and "I don't really know -- that's a bunch of political stuff."). It was a really great visit.

On the way home, I was talking to my student, and he was telling me about what he thought. "You know," he said, "Before this class, I really thought that the war was us against the Muslims. But now I know that it isn't, really. They're just normal, and Al-Qaeda is just a small group of people who have extreme beliefs." In my head I was pumping my fist into the air and saying, "Yesssssssssss," while aloud I was responding, "You're right. And that's what he was talking about when he mentioned the media blowing things out of proportion and Al-Qaeda giving Muslims a bad name..." All in all, it was a really awesome experience.

Another student and I went out into the Winooski River this week. I put her in a pair of waders, which were about 10 sizes too big for her, but the look on her face when she realized she could walk freely through the water without getting wet, and when she caught a crayfish for our terrarium...priceless.

I cannot get over how much awesomer my job is than my last teaching experience. I hope that we can either stay here in Burlington for a few more years so I can milk as much out of this as possible, or that there are (please Lord) other schools and other places where teaching is not a torturous task. Because really, it shouldn't be...

Miscellaneous

I've been thinking a lot about the phrase "Life is good," and how lucky I am that I can say that almost all of the time. When I think about the lives that some of my students have, in school and out, it makes me grateful that that is true for me, because I know for some of them, it's not true, because of family situations, or their own issues they deal with. Just something I've been pondering.

On happier notes, work continues to go really well. I really like my job, which is a relief. Until this job, I was thinking that perhaps I didn't actually want to be a teacher, that I had just been sucked into a field and now there was no way out unless I started something over from scratch (which sucks). Now...huge sigh of relief.

And on the wedding front...things are moving forward! I have invitations in hand (my good old pal Jason is awesome), we met with our pianist/organist this week and nailed down music for the ceremony (which includes some awesome non-traditional selections that I'm thrilled about!), and having these little pieces put together really makes things move along. I've talked to some friends who have started booking plane tickets and hotel reservations, etc, and it's all coming together! I'm so excited to see everyone in January.

And now, sleep like a coma.

Denied Three Times

Today, I feel a little like Jesus. Not in the divine way, or the male way, or the dining with sinners way (although I guess I probably do dine with sinners sometimes), but because today I was denied for the third time by the American Red Cross. They don't want my blood because I don't have enough iron. The first time I tried to give, two months ago, I was actually in the anemic range, which was weird and a little scary. Now, I'm back up into normal range, but still not good enough to give blood and walk away unscathed -- or so they claim.

The denial hurt. Giving blood is my own little form of helping others. The good news today was that this denial gave me some time to wander around Burlington, and I was inspired to take some pictures. So I did.

Tomatoes

We have neighbors who grow tomatoes. They have a farm at this place called the Intervale, which is a giant floodplain that Burlington rents out to local citizens who grow organic (only) food.

One weekend, our neighbors had a surplus of tomatoes, and put up a nice sign in the building saying, "Take as many as you want." I did. I made tomato sauce and a beautiful tomato and cucumber salad, seen below. I even documented it for posterity, because I thought the colors of the tomatoes were so beautiful. I called it Traffic Light Tomato Salad, for obvious reasons.

Taking Work Home

One of the attractions of this new job is that during the interview process, I was told that they try to encourage employees to leave their work at work, and not take it home with them. While I haven't found this to be true yet, I have started to see the glimmer of light at the end of the busy beginning-of-trimester tunnel. Unit plans are due this week (we don't have weekly lesson plans due, thank goodness, just a rough outline of the trimester due in the first few weeks of school), and after that, it's mostly just sailing through and working on longer-term projects. Not that there won't be SOME planning involved...just not an exorbitant amount.

However, work continues to go really well. It's bizarre how positive my co-workers seem about the kids we work with. Not bizarre in a bad way at all -- it's really awesome to see a group of people who hold these kids who might be considered "troubled" with "unconditional positive regard." The language at the school is really positive; we call fits, tantrums, or behavioral issues "challenges." We "process" at the end of a day rather than venting. I'm not quite used to working in an environment that's so un-jaded; it's a little bizarre to my poor sarcastic nature, but I'm trying to re-train myself, because everyone here seems to have a great attitude and good mental health as far as the job is concerned.

On another note, I went contra dancing last night here in Burlington. It was way fun, and I continue to adore the old men who frequent such events. They're so cute.

Wedding invitations are mostly complete! My awesome designer Jason (God bless him) sent samples to us that arrived today, and they are beautiful. I'm getting excited to send them out! We're down to four months, which is weird considering how long we've been engaged! We've made some progress on getting a rehearsal dinner location nailed down, and we've booked a bed and breakfast for our honeymoon. I'm way excited because we booked a room that is beautiful and big and has a bed that looks like a ship. You can see it here.

So all in all, life is good. Busier than it was this summer (and the past year for that matter), but good. We have also now begun to get paid, which is a huge relief!

The First Week

Although I am thisclose to falling into the teacher's weekend sleep coma (teachers know what I am talking about), I wanted to post a bit about my first week with students and how things are going here in Vermont.

This kids came on Tuesday, and although I was somewhat nervous, there is a great deal of difference between the specter of 20 kids depending on you to teach them and 1 kid depending on you to teach them. As I told everyone at work after the day was over on Tuesday, it's so nice to be able to put out the fires that occur and deal with problem behavior (or "challenges" as we call them) without having to also simultaneously distract and entertain 19 other children who may or may not be aware that that the problem is occurring and I am on the verge of tearing on my hair and/or bursting into tears. No, in my new job, a kid misbehaves, and I can give them my full attention, which is something of a gift.

There are a couple of other awesome aspects to my job as well. The first is the fact that stress is at a minimum as far as pushing academics is concerned. Our jobs are partly to provide schooling for the kids, but also to help them deal with their other issues, too, so if we spend a class processing feelings instead of doing our lesson plan, that's ok (at least in theory. It's still kind of frustrating to me, but I'm getting used to it). The other awesome thing is that the curriculum is totally open-ended. This semester, I am teaching units on Japan, terrorism, forensics, and web design. It spans the gammit, and it's awesome.

On a totally unrelated note, I'm really excited about the prospect of making muffins for next week.

And now, that comasleep.

The Schedule

At my new school, we see our students on a somewhat random schedule. Well, random is not exactly the right word, but the schedule is a weekly schedule instead of a daily schedule, so we might see a student only once a week. This is good for variety, but makes schedules very complicated and time-consuming to construct. Today, however, was the "unveiling" of the first trimester schedule, and it all worked out so well! I ended up teaching mostly math/science classes, but our program director gave me a couple SS and English classes for a little variety, which was exactly what I wanted! I'm really excited about it. There are also a couple of students who I see 3-4 times a week, which I'm looking forward to, as well. One of them is a new student, and the other is one who has been around for awhile, but I'm excited to get a chance to form a good relationship with them, and hopefully one that will be really conducive to getting work done with them. Also, my Monday mornings start out in the kitchen with a double-block of kitchen work and preparing the meal for the day, which is awesome -- all in all, a really decent schedule, and one that I'm excited for.

Technically, we're encouraged not to take work home, which is a real blessing, but this weekend, I just don't think that's very feasible. I need to do some preparing for introductory activities, and because I have the same students over again in a few instances, I need to have more "introductory" activities for them, since I can't recycle the same things for all of their classes. While the thought of "lesson planning" again is somewhat unappealing, I'm kind of looking forward to thinking through our first week, and figuring out some possible directions I can go with the students. I think it's going to be really fun and interesting!

Early Autumn

It's fall here in Vermont.

Ok, I'm sure the Vermonters around me disagree. To them, it is summer. But seriously, the past two days have been at the very least brisk. I love fall, but I also tend to operate at a body temperature a few degrees below normal, so when it's a bit windy and 68-70 degrees or so, I'm nonetheless shivering and gunning for hot chocolate (which I managed to obtain yesterday, so no worries). I'm adoring the weather, generally speaking, except for the fact that it means that winter is likely just around the corner. Which is fine but, you know, really early.

On the bright side, it means I will have a chance to employ the sweaters I've been hoarding throughout the years in the South, knowing I will be able to use them again one day. And I can make soup and not feeel silly.

On the other hand, I'm cold. And it's August. Dad would say, "Put on another layer." To which I would reply, "I'm already wearing two."

Keeping an Open Mind

On Monday, at our mini-orientation meeting, Kate, the program coordinator at our school, was talking to us newbies about what class we'd be teaching. I told her I didn't know what I was going to have, and she said, "Well, what's you preference? You'll probably get your preference if you asked for one." I told her I wanted to go the route of Social Studies or Literature, moving away from Science/Math (which is one class in this program) and she said she'd look at the schedule. Today, I was talking to Jed (the head of school), and asked him if he knew what I was teaching. He said, "Oh, you have experience in Science, right? You're in Science/Math. We have a need there right now." I was crushed, and had that moment of "I'm not going to cry at this. I am stronger than that," and I asked him if I could talk to him about it. We had a short meeting, and I explained to him that if I wanted to apply for Vermont licensure, I needed some Social Studies experience, and asked if I could teach a couple of Social Studies classes. He suggested that I make some of my unit interdisciplinary, and deal with some of the social studies standards within my Science/Math units. The units that we teach are really very loose and open to the kids' interests, so there is a lot of room for interdisciplinary stuff, so his suggestions are totally on par, and I can definitely do that and still deal with some of the things I'm interested in. But tomorrow, when we have our subject area meetings, I'm kind of dreading going to the Science/Math group and officially pegging myself as a Science/Math teacher, because that was exactly what I wanted to get away from this year. I wanted to actually teach what I'm interested in, as opposed to what Teach for America randomly assigned me to.

In the grand scheme of things, I'm sure it will be fine, and I'll work that Social Studies stuff in and address that facet of things. And I'm open to being helpful to these kids in an area of need, so if Science/Math is that area, I can be a trooper. I'm just a little disappointed, although trying to put on a happy face and remember that change and reassignment in the future is certainly possible as well. Patience, as mother reminded me today. Patience.

Getting Outdoors

When I was younger, my brother would constantly berate me for sitting in front of the computer while he played outside. He was right -- I was a pretty pasty and un-fit child and teenager. On the other hand, I could carry and tuba and march, so I guess I wasn't totally lazy.

In this move to Vermont, I've been trying to be a little active and enjoy the beautiful weather of what I'm told will be a short summer -- just yesterday, as I was signing paperwork for my new job, the director's office had a beautiful breeze blowing through that just screamed "AUTUMN!" This morning, I decided to go out on a "long" bike ride down to Burlington along the bikepath. I ended up doing about 7 miles, which isn't really that far by bike, but made me feel good. I also got to see Lake Champlain -- it's no ocean, but I'm thrilled to be living in a town "on the water" nonetheless.

See those mountains in the background? How much more beautiful could this get?

I'm feeling pretty lucky about my new location, and my new job, and I'm also feeling pretty psyched about the fact that I plan on taking this same bike ride tomorrow to go to the Farmer's Market in Burlington. Weekend goal: stew. I figure I might as well take advantage of weather that already feels like fall, local produce, and my beloved Crock-pot and do something useful and hearty this weekend. Updates on said stew to come.

The rest of today has been spent lazily watching the Game Show Network, reading my new Marie Claire that came in the mail today, and napping. Work starts Monday, but vacation is so very nice.

The New Job

And again, the theme of my move to Vermont appears to be "Thing Happen For a Reason."

A little background:

Back in March, I applied for a job as a "Counseling Teacher" with a school here in Vermont that works with high needs kids. I followed up with the application and resume, and never heard anything back, so shrugged it off and moved on the with the job search, applying to a lot of admin assistant jobs, a few periphery school-type jobs (not teaching, since my license is non-transferable), etc.

After the whole Catholic School job fiasco, I noticed that the same job I had applied for re-appeared on schoolspring.com, the website where teaching jobs are often posted. I was kind of miffed, so I e-mailed the person in the job posting, asking if they had ever received my application. He said he hadn't, and asked me to send it again.

So I did, and got an interview (on the phone). Then I got another interview (also on the phone). Then I set up an in-face interview for after I arrived last week, and voila -- a job offer materializes the day after I meet the director of the programs.

I was lamenting to Andy that "If only they had gotten back to me in March, this would have been a lot easier," to which he pointed out, "Right, but then you wouldn't have come up for the Catholic School interview and then we wouldn't have found the apartment." "Huh," I replied.

So, like all good novels, things have come back full-circle and I am employed at this school that provides both academic instruction and therapeutic contact for kids who have behavioral and emotional problems. Some of the details are still a little unclear (like what, for example, I'm teaching!), but I love the people I interviewed with, and the "orientation" that is taking place over the next two weeks includes a lot of autonomous time for us to plan, and events such as "Self-care day: Hiking," in which the staff can join a leader who is taking everyone to his favorite spot to hike for the entire morning. Not shabby.

The other cool thing is that the teaching itself sounds really flexible, and the place really focuses on kids' interests and strengths, as opposed to straightforward academics. So if the kids want to build a half-pipe to skateboard on, that's cool -- as long as they research the plans and materials, buy them, and do their own construction. Pretty sweet, huh?

The New Apartment

We have a new apartment.

The apartment saga was kind of a long one. Andy and I were all set to take an apartment in his old complex (a two-bedroom, as opposed to his little one-bedroom), and it was given away out from under us. Long story, lots of frustration, although, as Dad told me and I knew deep down, things happen for a reason.

About three weeks after that happened, when I was in Burlington for the fateful Catholic school interview, Andy and I looked at a few apartments on a whim. What we found was a much bigger, much nicer one than the one we lost, WITH a washing machine and dryer AND dishwasher...for exactly the same price.

When I got here last week, it was a little bare. Andy had done a good job getting furniture from Craiglist, but my room was totally empty, and we had a tons of closet space. A visit from Mom and Dad, along with a Uhaul, fixed that.

The new digs:

My room

Our huge hallway

Andy's room (and also a bit of a workspace for unpacked stuff...which is shrinking in amounts!)

Our kitchen (ahhh!)
And finally, our living room, complete with one Affianced watching the Olympics

An Unsent Letter of Frustration

Dear Mrs. Principal,

As a recent interviewee with your school, I am writing to express my displeasure at the way in which the hiring process was conducted. Several weeks ago, I flew to Burlington for a weekend, at my own expense, to interview with you for the position of middle school math/science/technology teacher. Just before the conclusion of the interview, you assured me, "We won't keep you waiting. We'll let you know within the next week."

When a week passed without word on the status of the job, I called St. Joseph school and left a message with the secretary. After two days, my message was unreturned, and I called again, this time leaving a message with the school's answering machine. Again, my call was not returned.

Today, nearly three weeks after the interview, I was "notified" that I was not hired only when I happened to see the change in status of my application on schoolspring.com. To date, I have not heard from a human being.

Because I spent valuable time and money from my very limited budget in order to travel and interview for the job, and because of your personal assurance that you would follow up, I am disappointed that no one from the school ever notified me of the decision that was made. While I am certainly aware that other candidates may have been more qualified for the position, I feel as if I was nonetheless treated quite unprofessionally.

Luckily, a betteremployment situation has come along.

Slightly un-sincerely,
Rebecca M. Walter

Inspirational Reading

It was Christmas Eve. Mom and Dad had gone to 6:00 Mass, and Sam and DJ and I were putting together dinner before family gift time. When Mom and Dad arrived home, we were setting the table and getting ready to eat when Sam piped up, "I would like us to read this inspirational reading as a family before dinner."

Mom was touched. Picking inspirational readings was not particularly Sam-esque. We sat down, and Sam distributed the copies he had made.

"I'll begin. Please join in.

Good-bye Norma Jean, though I never knew you at all, you had the strength to hold yourself while those around you crawled..."

Our collective Walter voice joined together on the cold winter night to the sweet words of Sir Elton John.

Survival

I have survived this grad school thing.

To be completed fair, I am not quite officially done done. I still have to print out a final draft of my thesis (actually, about five finals drafts of my thesis), and get those turned in, as well as figuring out how to get my "program portfolio" burned onto a CD in such a way that the page navigation will function successfully. However, classes are officially over, which is a relief, and now I actually have time at night to watch movies. Additionally, the 14-hour day marathons are over. Thank goodness.

In the past month, a lot has happened. I've applied for a job at a Catholic school in Vermont. The position is for a middle school math/science/technology teacher, which I think could be really fun (if intense and time-consuming). The school is actually the one connected with the church where the Affianced and I are going to be married...in some ways, it seems like fate. I have spoken to the Assistant Superintendent, Sr. Shirley, who is wonderful and seemed excited to meet me. Mrs. Rogerson was more reserved, but also seemed kind, and I'm currently sitting in the airport in Richmond waiting to fly up there for my interview on Friday. Everyone who I have talked to seems to think I'm a shoo-in--by virtue of my education degree from William and Mary--but because of my less-than-ideal experience here this year, I don't feel quite so confident that this degree is as meaningful as people seem to believe it is. In any case, I know I do have several things going for me (Notre Dame, master's in education, Teach for America, etc.), and I hope that's enough. I am fairly resigned to the fact that this will happen if it supposed to happen, and if it doesn't, then there is something else out there for me. That doesn't mean I won't freak out temporarily if it doesn't work out, but in the grand scheme of things, I'm feeling like there is some sort of greater plan out there, so that's good.

Endless summer

I have not died. I am, however, working 30 hours a week and putting in about 15 hours of classes, too. I am officially working overtime.

I knew these couple weeks of summer were going to be crazy, but I wasn't quite ready for this. I'm exhausted, and feel like I haven't had time to breath in a week.

Tuesday is my thesis defense. Which means that after going to clean up my kitchen and do a load of dishes, I have to, you know, actually finish my thesis. It's all written, but there are some minor edits to do. It won't be more than 2-3 hours of work, and I know it won't be that bad, but the prospect of doing it is just totally daunting.

After that is over, although I will still have two insane weeks left, at least one major thing will be off my plate. It's something.

El Thesiso

Dear Thesis Beast,

I have slain you. I love to watch you writhe in pain and die.

Love,
Becky


Translation: The thesis is finished...or at least, the rough draft of it. I can live again! More importantly, I can return about 20 books to the library!

Jerk

Dear guy behind me in line at the grocery store,

You are probably right, that I should have noticed you only had one thing and let you check out in front of me. I wasn't thinking. However, that does NOT make it appropriate for you to accuse me of "helping my kind" by "letting the woman in front of me go." I didn't let her go -- she actually was in line first. Just like I was in line in front of you.

A couple suggestions. If you don't want to wait in line to pay for your one thing, do a better job making a list next time you go grocery shopping, and avoid the subsequent one-item trip. Also, leave the race card out of things. We're all the same "kind." Jerk.

The Perfect Job

Yesterday, I applied for the perfect job (for me) for next year. I was checking out employment opportunities at the Affianced's institution of higher learning, and found a posting for the administrative assistant for LGBTQA services. (For the unaware, that is one of the many various acronyms used to designate the sexual minority population). Basically, the job would entail keeping up the drop-in space for LGBTQA services, doing general reception and administrative work, and helping out with activities and such. Which is perfect, because I have been working this year in a University setting and have a good idea of how things function, AND I would get to work with students in a very helpful way.

I told Kathryn yesterday, "I hope this is one of those instances where God provides the perfect opportunity and it all works out, and not one of those instances where he dangles something tempting in front of you and snatches it away so it can be a growing experience." I'm trying not to get my hopes up, and am mostly succeeding (there are, after all, other jobs out there), but it just seems like the right thing for where I am right now -- something I'm qualified to do, regarding a population I'm interested in and have been studying, and something that is helpful to others, which I think is really important.

So, fingers crossed.

How Did You Choose That Topic?

Today, as many have before, my roommate was asking me about my thesis. When I told her that I was doing a study on the school experiences of gifted/GLBTQ (that's gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgendered, and queer/questioning) students, she asked me that question I kind of dread: "How did you choose that topic?"

Now, I don't generally have a problem with people mistaking me for being homosexual -- not that I think it happens often, but because of this project, and the paper I wrote for my children's literature class last semester about homosexuality in young adult lit, I assume it happens sometimes. My roommate told me today that she wondered when she saw all the research books I had scattered around the apartment when she moved in. What does bother me a little, however, is that I don't have a really good reason to give people when they asked why I chose the topic.

I find the question of gender really interesting. I think that's one reason that homosexuality is such an intriguing topic to me -- traditionally it's very wrapped up in the questions of gender and gender identity. What makes us female and male? What dictates who we are attracted to? Is it nature or nurture (or some combination)? It's so interesting, because thinking about gender in new ways, and considering issues such as transsexualism (where a person believes they are born into the body of the wrong gender) really forces us to question what we assume about who we are and the categories we put people into. It forces us to question human nature, inasmuch as we think of gender as intrinsically linked to identity, which I think most people do.

In my research, one of the complaints that arises among GLBTQ students is that teachers and schools promulgate heteronormativity, or the idea that heterosexuality is the norm. This is shown in everything from referencing students' "Moms and Dads,"to creating story problems that fall along gender lines (Mary bakes cookies and John plays football), to failing to mention the fact that many famous people throughout history were homosexual. One of the reasons I'm tied to this population of students, the ones who are gifted and GLTBQ, is that I cannot imagine sitting in school, especially during middle school, and knowing you are gay and never ever seeing or hearing about anyone like you in the curriculum. Ever. Throw together being a sexual minority with being a nerd, and you've got a double dose of "differentness."

I think that as far as minorities go, sexual minorities currently have the short end of the stick, because not too many people are focused on sticking up for them. I feel like society has thrown the issues of gender and race to the forefront of conversations about equality, but there's still this huge culture of silence surrounding homosexuality and other sexual minority issues. No one wants to talk about it.

But I do. I think I'm interested in it because no one talks about it. It's taboo.

I met my first homosexual friends in high school. Up until that point, I was of the opinion that we "love the sinner, hate the sin." After I met a couple of dear friends who were homosexual, and after they told me their stories, I completely changed my mind. I believe, with certainty, that there is nothing abnormal or sinful or wrong with homosexuality. There are some lifestyle choices traditionally associated with homosexuality that I'm not a huge fan of (such as promiscuity), but that aside, I cannot believe that anyone's choice of sexual partner is a morally wrong. It's my personal belief, and I know that others hold different ones, and that's ok. But my own change in opinion is what got me interested in the topic, I think.

And of course, the other part of me, the part that has to, you know, write the thesis, says, "Who cares why you think it's interesting? Be thankful you like it enough to finish a major project on it." I am.

Alone

I've said it before and I'll say it again...On a day to day basis, I don't mind doing the long-distance thing. I'm grateful that things between the Affianced and I are such that we can trust and respect each other enough to be in different states without any kind of crises. But there are times, like tonight, when people were over visiting and playing games, and then left in pairs, or when I see new lovey-dovey relationships sprouting up around me, when I feel lonely. I mean, the lovey-doviness kind of makes me want to barf, and I truly appreciate and I truly do enjoy my alone time so I can regroup...but there's a part of me that wishes I didn't have to sit around here alone at the end of each day. It sucks not to have another presence in the apartment, now that my roommate is essentially living with her boyfriend. And it sucks to be the person who is in a couple, but not be able to actually be in a couple here.

Just a little self-pity. But hey, it beats having a random stroke, going into a coma, and waking up, only to find that the only functioning muscle in your body is your eye, and then having to develop a system of communication through blinking. (I saw The Diving Bell and the Butterfly last night. Sad.)

Birthday goodness

This weekend was my birthday, and what a birthday it was. Kathryn's birthday was also last week -- Thursday -- and so she and I arranged our own birthday party at the beach! We drove down to Virginia Beach for the night, got a couple of hotel rooms, and had a grand old time with a few of our friends!

When we arrived, Dan and Kathryn and I took a long walk down the beach, which was windy and colder than we had hoped, but lovely nonetheless. Soon afterwards, Dave and Eric arrived, and we went out for dinner at an AMAZING pizza restaurant called Pi-zzeria. One particular combination of gorgonzola, pine nuts, and spinach was especially delicious. As was the sangria.

After dinner, we went a bought Apples to Apples and just hung out in the hotel room playing games and drinking "juice." I was stunned at how well everyone got along and how much fun it was, since it was, in some ways, a new combination of people. But everyone was in really good spirits, got along really well, and it was incredibly fun.

The next morning, we went out for breakfast at a local diner, and then drove home. Later that afternoon, we went to see "Smart People," which was sub-par, and then we took the ferry to Surry and ate at the Surry House, a cute little family-type restaurant with good Southern food. Surry was a cute little town, and very reminiscent of the midwest.

I went to bed on my birthday night totally satisfied and grateful for my friends. It was a wonderful day! Pictures to come when I gank them from Dan.

Good news!

Good things have happened today:

1. I was told that I could work a few extra hours at the Center this summer. This is HUGE because they pay well and this means I can scrap the idea of getting another job, and STILL have my weekends off to go to the beach. Word.

2. I got my Virginia Teacher Certificate. This is less huge, but buys me time to figure out the grand scheme of things in terms of where the Affianced and I will end up post grad school. I now have five years to figure out my teaching future before I have to take more action. Awesome.

Unfortunately, now I have a presentation to give in class. That is not awesome.

Decisions: The Root of All Evil vs. Mental Health

I know that money is not everything. I also know, however, that I am feeling a little poor right now and that the thought of having more money is tempting.

This summer, I have a couple of things set in stone. 1) I have to take two classes that will go from mid-May until the end of June. 2) I will be working at least 20 hours a week at the Center, doing a continuation of school-year stuff. Now, the Center pays well -- about twice what I would make doing your average run of the mill retail job. However, the hours I am scheduled to work there this summer will still only cover my rent and tuition, leaving me to live of money I have stashed away in savings unless I get another, part-time job to supplement.

The question is whether I will actually have a nice, mentally healthy summer if I do so. Now, I know that 10 hours a week behind a cash register at the bookstore is nothing tragic, but am I going to feel totally burnt out if I do that in addition to the Center and classes? Furthermore, I think that my classes this summer are going to be pretty easy...but what if they're not? Then I'll have shot myself in the foot, struggling to do a lot of extra schoolwork on top of work-for-money.

I'm just not sure whether I want to apply to get another job for the spending money, or just say to heck with it and live off my savings (frugally, of course), and have a good, quasi-restful summer.

Like a Student...

...Oh! Working for the very first time.

Although I would not go so far as to say that my graduate school experience has suddenly become full of fulfilling work and assignments, I will give it credit for attacking me from all sides at once and, finally, making me feel busy. This is what being a student feels like -- too much to do, not enough time to do it, making time management an absolute necessity. Next week, I have something due in every class, plus my own personal goal of getting a hefty chunk of my thesis done (the ever dreaded Lit Review). I have to admit, despite the slight feeling of floundering in the insanity, I kind of like where things are right now. I'm diving into academia at the moment, putting together two papers and two presentations, and making something useful (if for a brief time) out of this relatively useless experience.

Yesterday at work, we had a "celebration lunch" for "all that we've accomplished over the past semester." It was nice to NOT be at work for a couple hours, yet still with work people. Also, Dr. Van Tassel-Baska, the head honcho, was there, and she mentioned to me the prize that I had won -- the "Award for Excellence in Gifted Education (Master's)." She wanted to make sure I had gotten the invitation to the ceremony, etc. I still haven't gotten any kind of description of what the award is -- how they choose people, what they look for, etc -- but I am pleased to be recognized. AND, the award has money attached. Which hadn't even occurred to me, but was the first question everyone else asks. I don't know how much, but I will gladly accept it. It does, I have to admit, make me feel good to be picked out for the work I've done here, since I do feel I have academic potential, even if it's not being fully recognized.

Alas, time now to jump into that student thing.

Wide Open Spaces

When I was in high school, I could not wait to get out of tiny little Unionville/Plain City/Milford Center/etc. It was time for me to see another part of the world (South Bend...oohhh!), and that was good for me. However, having said that, it is nice to be home sometimes. I'm pretty sure I would never want to settle down here -- it still feels too small and I think I'd feel contained, like my life had taken a big looping circular path, bringing me back to where I started, which is not exatly what I want. But I do appreciate coming home and having everything be familiar.

I like having room to breathe here. Everything isn't mushed together; people and homes and land are spread out. I like having occasion to use my brights on the car, and although I realize its horrible for the environment, I enjoy that driving from place to place gives me time to think, and slows down the pace of life a bit -- none of this rushing to the next thing in five minutes.

It's also nice to see the family, although that wears off after a few days. This time when I've been home, we all took the Myers-Briggs personality test, and it was funny and telling to read everyone's profiles. George and I, not surprisingly, are personality types separated by just one letter (The Myers-Briggs gives you a four-letter combination; mine is INTJ), with him being extroverted (ENTJ) and me being introverted. Some highlights: George's description has a line in it about sometimes adopting an "icy stare," which Ann found hysterical. Mine has a line about "Not wanting to take the lead...until someone else fails. Then I go in a clean up the messes." That is completely true. Ann's type (ESFJ) is called the "Provider," which is appropriate. Sam is the "Champion," (ENFP) and if that is accurate, I think he still has some realizing of his type to do -- not that it doesn't fit him, but it doesn't fit him yet. He's supposed to be a champion of causes, but right now, I think the cause for which he champions is Sam.

Anyway, it was an interesting exercise. I wish DJ were here to take it, too.

Alas, on my final day home, I must do a bit of thesizing. Off to work on outlining Chapter 2.

Break

In the midst of studying for my midterm, which shall occur tomorrow, I started to freak out. Not an uncommon occurrence for me. I'm burnt out, I want to get to bed early, but also finish my reviewing. The thought of getting up at 5:00 tomorrow crossed my mind, but then I reminded myself of my "a good night's sleep always helps more than cramming" manta, and I thought. "Wait. Stop. Take a break."

It's so hard to DO when I'm moving and don't want to stop, although my mind is aching for some reprieve. So I'm taking a break. Bathtime and reading time, and then another hour or so of studying. No major sleep lost, no need to freak out.

I just have to remember how easy the solution is sometimes, and give myself a break.

Visits and friends

This past week, I've had two visitors, which has been loverly. First, the Affianced was here, which was great. This may, in fact, be one of the last visits we have in the midst of the long distance relationship...thank goodness. In August, we'll be residing in the same zip code, for which I am very thankful.

And then, just for a short 24 hours, my good friend Lauren from college was here. She planned a conference in DC, and came to Williamsburg for a day to see the Colonial Wonderland, and see me in my play. It was great fun to hang out with her again, as I hadn't seen her since graduation three years ago, and I'm so thankful for friends who you can just pick up with, even after long periods of time.

You may have caught onto the fact that we found a tree with a huge hole in it that provided a good photo-op.

And lastly, in another wave of friend warm-fuzziness, over the course of the first two performances of my play, I had lots of people come to see it, which was so nice and made me feel happy and loved and supported. This is everyone who came the second night, when I actually had a camera.

Creation

There's a lot to catch up on, so I will start slowly. One thing at a time. Hopefully a series of short entries will provide me with appropriate small breaks from the horror that is studying for my American History midterm. I love this class, and he was very kind in giving us a good idea about what would be on the exam, but with that knowledge comes the responsibility to adequately prepare. Which I am trying to do in the wake of having visitors.


But, before anything too serious, a point of pride from two weeks ago.

I made a sweater. All by myself. Grandma Walter, my crochet guru, would be so proud.

Read, Uninterrupted

I've been thinking a lot lately about reading. And when I think about it, I feel old. It makes me think back to "The good old days" of my own life, when I could get lost in a book (mostly in the bathtub), and literally pour through a story without putting it down.

College took away a lot of my love of reading. In one sense, it made me a better reader -- more critical, looking more deeply at texts, discerning more meaning. But it also sucked away a lot of the simple pleasure involved in reading. Reading because not just an escape, but work. Additionally, in today's world of short attention spans and gadgetry, I sincerely find it hard to sit down for a period and read uninterrupted...especially when it's for school. Checking my e-mail or facebook always beckons as way more important.

I have to read a biography for a class and do a presentation on an eminent person's talent development over the lifespan. I chose Walt Whitman, and the biography I am reading is 350 pages long. Which is, really, nothing. But sitting down and just getting it done is becoming a huge chore. I have to FORCE myself to read, which is sad, because frankly, it's an interesting book. I just know that I have to do it, and so that makes me WANT to do it less.

The good news is that I do still enjoy reading, in some contexts. I always have a book going for right before bed, and I rarely turn in without reading a chapter (in fact, I'm currently reading The Story of a Love about the correspondences between St. Terese of Liseux and a young priest, which was given to me by my grandmother and takes me back to childhood in another way), but I do wish I had the intense absorption mechanism still ago in regards to my reading.

With that said, I am about to head off to the gradplex lounge with ONLY my book in hand, and give it a couple hours. Perhaps eliminating distractions is the key.

Thesis Rave

God bless the GLBT support-group leaders who forwarded out my plea for participants for my thesis survey. Having sent out the "please forward this request for participants" e-mail last Tuesday, I, as of today, have received 23 e-mails from people who want to participate. Of course, this doesn't mean that all of them will actually complete my survey, but considering my goal is to have 30 good responses, I'd say I'm well on my way.

Research is awesome. I can't wait to write this thesis up and be done with it and have a real product.

A Love/Hate Relationship

I have a love-hate relationship with my graduate program.

The other day, I was working on my thesis, and reading the (very) limited research about my topic which is, incidentally, serving the social, emotional, and intellectual needs of students who are gifted and a sexual minority (gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgendered, questioning, etc). And as I was reading an article about how there is so little research on the topic, I was thinking, "You know, I care about this topic, and I would love to be involved in something that is truly an emerging topic in the field." I was having delusions of grandeur, and thinking about publishing, and it was, frankly, pretty motivating. I really am enjoying working on this thesis, despite the sometime-drudgery.

But then I thought about how much I despise going to classes and actually being in this field which, to be frank, I don't respect a whole lot. Now, to be fair, I respect gifted education as an academic field slightly more than the wider field of just plain education, but in the grand scheme of things, I'm pretty unimpressed. It all seems so wishy-washy, and, you know, it's a social science, which automatically gives it a bad name. That, coupled with the sorry state of education in general in the United States, doesn't give me too much desire to do much with the field academically speaking.

The ironic thing is, my adviser keeps hinting to me that I should go for my Ph. D. On the one hand, I can see why she would say that. I'm good at school, I'm motivated, and I'm doing well in all her classes (and I've taken four of them with her in my two semesters here thus far). I'm not bragging, but school, especially this stupid program, is easy for me, and always has been. I have the ability and aptitude to get a Ph. D. But it frustrates and stuns me that she doesn't know me well enough to know that I hate this program and wouldn't ever ever EVER think about getting a Ph. D. in education. I would do it in a field I thought highly of (like medieval studies...oh, if only I had stuck with my Latin...).

I think the fact that she knows me so poorly rubs me the wrong way. As the person in charge of the master's in gifted ed program, she currently has only four full-time students. This ratio of adviser to advisee should, at least in my eyes, ensure that we have a good relationship and a high level of communication. We don't. I think there are personality issues at stake (I am a linear thinker and highly organized -- she is a random thinker and disorganized) which adds to my personal disregard for this whole thing. But I just don't feel like she cares about me or knows me. I asked her to help me with licensing in Vermont. She told me to call the state department and make them agree to accept my Virginia license (which I don't have...mine is from Louisiana. And I had already done that. And they said no.). She commented the other day about how it was good that I was getting back into the classroom to I could gain credibility before I go to get my Ph. D., when I told her the week before that I'm not going into the classroom again next year because I can't get aforementioned teaching license. I feel like she's not listening, and I feel like, frankly, she's missing a good opportunity to actually recruit a good candidate for further education...but she doesn't understand that I have no respect for the way things are being handled and I have been turned off.

One of my co-workers at the Center for Gifted Education knows my plight and has encouraged me to speak up. But I told her that I have no yet learned the art of expressing my concerns gracefully and non-accusatorily. The unfortunate circumstances of the situation, namely that my adviser happens to be over-worked and happens to be teaching way more classes in the program than she ever has before, will make my criticism seem personal. And while it is, on some level, there are also program-level problems that just happen to be manifested through her. For example, I feel that the four core courses in gifted education overlap way too much and there is too much repetition. This is only partly her responsibility. On the one hand, I think she could be doing a better job differentiating between the four content areas covered in the classes, but on the other hand, there really IS a lot of overlap, and the program needs to be fixed so there is less. of that. There's only so much she can do when she is handed a course and topic and told, "Here, teach it."

So, the moral of the story is this: I struggle with not fulfilling my potential as an academic, but I truly feel in my heart that academia is not a sector in which I will ever feel fulfilled. I want to speak up and help improve the program, but I am confident that doing so during my time here will create problems for me because I have not developed that talent to give criticism with grace. In the end, I suppose I will just push through, make the best of what I have, and be thankful that at least I will have an advanced degree when all this jazz is through.

Bed-ridden

Lately, I've been lamenting the fact that I don't get sick often. Truly, this is a blessing, but there is something restful about being able to spend a day in bed recovering from whatever ailment afflicts you. When I was teaching, I was better about taking mental health days (they were legitimately necessary) at random, but now, since I'm just doing the part-time assistantship thing and school/classes, it seems a little silly to me to "take a sick day." I'm kind of sick of the whole school thing, but not enough to truly warrant playing hookie.

But, like I've said, I've been craving a day in bed lately, so today, I decided to take it. I slept in, which, to be honest, took a little forcing -- I was ready to get up an 9:00, but I rolled over and crashed for another hour and a half. (I realize that 9:00 IS sleeping in for some, but remember that I am, in some sense of the word, a college student.) Then, when I woke up, I grabbed by laptop, hauled it over to bed with me, and spent some time perusing pictures of bouquets for wedding-planning fun.

I do, honestly, have to accomplish some work today, too, so I've been doing some reading, and I need to go type a journal entry for class, so things are getting accomplished, but it's so nice to revel in being truly lazy. A day of physical (and mental) rejuvenation is just what I needed.

On a completely unrelated note, I got TWO bouquets of Valentine's flowers yesterday (long story, but they are BEAUTIFUL tulips), and a pretty hilarious Valentine's card from Mom. These both made me very happy.

Wedding Planning

I am planning a wedding. It's a big feat, but made smaller by the fact that said planning is taking place over the course of almost two years. Most recently, I have begun working on my centerpieces, of which part will double as my favors. Here is what I envision:

Vases will be placed on mirrors. Tree branches will be scavenged (mother nature is the best provider of decor), and spray painted silver or white (or both...hmmm). Branches will be placed in vases. Upon said branches will be hung our favors, which are snowflake ornaments.

Now, our wedding is not Christmas-y in the truest sense of the word, taking place after Christmas and during the Epiphany, but I figure the ornaments are wintery enough to be acceptable, and perhaps people will not yet have packed up their Christmas decorations, so they can gently place our little snowflakes in the ornament box for next year.

Beading has been going slowly, but it's fun. Aren't they pretty?


I have also been contemplating walking down the aisle to "Bring a Torch, Jeanette, Isabella." It's pretty, and French (like the Affianced), and different. Also seasonal. And I hate "Here Comes the Bride big, fat and wide.)"

All in all, I'd say planning is going well.

Also, I've been trying to find some kind of reflections/meditations, etc. for marriage preparation (in the form of a blog, perhaps?), but have had no luck. Sarah? Mom? Any ideas?

Book meme courtesy of Sarah

Rules:
1. Pick up the nearest book (of at least 123 pages).
2. Open the book to page 123.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the next three sentences.
5. Tag five people.

From The Sun, the Moon, and the Stars by Steven Brust:

"I don't feel like I'm missing anything. I am," he drew himself up and said ironically, "fulfilled as an artists. Okay?"

I would love to tag five people...but as this is a mostly off-the-radar blog, I don't know of five to tag.

Step, SQUISH

Last night, I went to the weekly swing dance they have here at the Gradplex, and it was, as usual, highly entertaining. Mike, the guy who leads it up, was trying to teach us simple blues stuff, and in trying to describe how to shift your weight to one foot and then pop out your hip, he began to chant, "Step, SQUISH, step, SQUISH," with the SQUISH representing the hip pop. It was completely wrong for what he was trying to convey, but typical of Mike.

But as much as I feel self conscious being a "big girl" when dancing with a partner (and I mean this in the most non-self-deprecating way -- I am not fat, I am just tall and happen to not be a stick), I do enjoy it when someone else is leading and it's very clear what I'm supposed to do, and all I have to do in follow along. Very little thinking, the guy has to do all the mental work, and it's nice. It's so refreshing to have a set of guys around who are strong leads, who have a sense of rhythm and know what they're doing. For goodness sake, I was dipped several times last night by different partners -- I enjoy it when someone flings me around like that. But even those who aren't great yet have a fun time on Thursday nights, and that's good, too. My sincerest hope is that someday, I can convince the Affianced to learn to dance with me (preferably swing), so we can enjoy it together, because it really is one of the most fun things in the world. (Did you catch that, Affianced?)

Tomorrow night is contra dancing, which is vaguely like square dancing. Also a rip-roaring good time, and the best part is seeing Dave and Eric in skirts. It's some contra tradition...and it's hysterical.

Podcasting

I have had my mp3 player for over a year now...more like two, actually...but I never got involved in the world of podcasting until a couple of weeks ago, when I was Jonesin' for CarTalk at a non CarTalk time. "I wonder if they have a podcast?" I thought, and headed over to the NPR website. They did. I downloaded a client to deal with my non-Apple mp3 player, and I was good to go.

Turns out that one of my other favorite radio shows, This American Life, also has a podcast. I had only heard the show a couple times before discovering this, but it's amazing -- really great storytelling, really great themes for shows. I may have developed a huge crush on the host, Ira Glass. This is him:
Turns out he's a big nerd. Just as I suspected. Delightful!

I've also added Fresh Air, Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me, and Whadya Know? to the list. Work is way more fun, now.

Putting All My Eggs Into One Basket

Through lack of choice, I have, in the area of friendship, performed the equivalent of putting all my eggs into one basket. Now, my good friend here is fantastic and I'm so glad I met her...but she recently started "dating" a guy who is a friend of ours (I use the word friend loosely, as we have only recently brought him into the fold), and this presents some unfortunate emotional consequences for me.

Now, since they are "dating," I know that is none of my business (except in the supportive "How'd it go? Tell me every detail," way). What I mean is, of course dating involves only two people, and that's totally cool. However, last weekend on their date they ended up with a group of his friends in Richmond, one of whom I've met before, and so it ended up being a big group go-out. Of course, this all happened as the evening unfolded, but the fact that it wasn't in fact the two of them and was actually a group activity made me feel lonely and kind of left out.

The problem here is the intellectual vs. the emotional. Intellectually, I think it's great, and I'm happy for her (not that they're remotely serious, but it's fun to have fun and meet new people), but on the emotional level, I feel kind of sad that my pretty-much-only friend here is having these social opportunities that don't include me. I'm trying to be cool about it, but when I'm sitting at home alone on Saturday night, twiddling my thumbs, or going to a movie by myself (which I enjoy but still), I feel like kind of a sad and pathetic individual.

The other problem, and one that I've talked about with her before, is that as much as long distance is pretty much ok with me on a day to day basis, it's hard to be attached and not have the other half of my attachment here. Sometimes it sucks to watch people be all happy and dating and meeting people, and feeling sad that the Affianced is elsewhere. It's all temporary, and we'll be in the same location and probably sick of each other before you know it, but it's sad right now. I wish I had someone to take me out.

He and I were talking recently, and I told him that I wanted to go on more dates. "What do you mean?" he asked. "Well," I told him, "I guess a date could me a couple things. It could be where we dress up nicely and go out. Or it could be when one of us plans the evening without the others input for a bit of a surprise." Not that we don't, you know, go out when we're together, but I think the thing is, as much as I hate to admit it, sometimes I do want to be treated like a girl. Not often. But sometimes. Generally speaking, I love the egalitarian way we handle things, and we're so "well-suited," as Ann would put it, that we rarely disagree about what to do. But it would be nice, sometime, if he (or I, because I can take responsibility, too), makes a plan and takes charge of the evening, and it isn't so...equal. Just to keep things interesting.

Thusly have I pondered on this fine evening. And now, in order to get up super early to get to the gym before the random assignment I must complete for work at 9:00 tomorrow morning, I must head in the direction of the bed.

Tomorrow is our chili cook-off, for which I have found a recipe for pumpkin-turkey chili. I am counting on creativity points. Wish me luck!

Mail!

One of my favorite things in the world is mail. Any kind of mail. Although bills aren't as fun as other kinds, nothing makes me heart go pitter-pat quite like the sight of an envelope in my mailbox. It's a magical thing.

I also now have a penpal. She is the Affianced's sister. She teasingly wrote and asked me to be her penpal, a request I accepted with full gusto, and today I got a letter. I miss the old days, when I had, like, 6 penpals at a time, and this is equally exciting. I also got a tax form, and a refund check from my loan. All in all, a good day.

But what if it SNOWS?????!!!

Right now, I should be chipping into the exorbitant amount of reading that I need to accomplish in the next week, and I will, soon, when I finish this entry. I promise.

Yesterday marked the culmination of perhaps the most impressive thing I have ever done, short of completing my undergrad thesis, which, actually, wasn't all that significant in retrospect. Yesterday, the Center for Gifted Education's 13th Annual Focusing on the Future conference was held. This conference was planned, in large part, by me.

On Thursday, the phone calls started:

"Have you rescheduled?"
"I'm sure you've heard that bad weather is possible."
"It might snow. We're coming from three hours away."

Of course, this possibility had been considered months before. In fact, three years ago, the conference was canceled because of snow, so we had a contingency plan in place, which we communicated to all attendees with their confirmation the month before. Not that they read the mail we send them. Dealing with all these inane questions was frustrating, and I finally just put an extended absence message on my machine instructing participants what to do if they were worried about snow, and let it ring through.

Saturday, I arrived at 6:45, and stayed until 5:00pm. But the conference went off without any major disasters which was a major blessing. There was the small incident of the kid allergic to peanuts eating a (wait for it) peanut M&M in the Culinary Arts session, and the one mother hysterical that she lost her daughter at the end of the day, when she was really just waiting for a tour, but other than these relatively minor things, all was well. My volunteers were amazing and competent, my planning was well worth the effort, and one mother said to me, "I was in the army for 22 years, and this conference ran like clockwork. It was wonderful." I couldn't have been more pleased, and I feel extremely proud of myself for pulling it off and being, for all intents and purposes, done with my major project of the year. Of course, a report needs to be written, and evaluation data types of and analyzed, but I am thankful that tomorrow is a holiday so I can work on these things at the Center without staff leaning over my shoulder for a day.

A couple more items of note, which, I know, will seem completely contradictory.

One, I have been attending Mass since the new year, and am really appreciating it. Today, Father gave a sermon about how he had been on a cruise and was really impressed with the people who consider service to be their calling, not just something they do until something better come along. I love that notion, because I'm starting to really feel that working a grunt job that requires minimal education but that really gets something done is what I want to do with my life. I like being in the trenches. I also asked for a patron saint of the year, and am enjoying that little treat, too -- I got paired with two, out of a (fortunate) miscommunication: St. John of God is the first, who went a little mentally ill and then dedicated his life to serving the poor after his recovery: perfect for my interest in psych, my current interest in abnormal psych, and my career conflict of wanting to just find a do-gooder non-profit job next year. My second was Bl. Francis de Montmorency Lavale, who did a lot of work with the expansion of the Catholic church in Canada in the 1600s, especially in Quebec. Because of impending location changes to Vermont (and a honeymoon in Montreal:), I'm feeling like Francis is looking over my move to the North and my joining a family with a French Canadian history.

Secondly, we had our first meeting for the Vagina Monologues tonight, and it was really fun. I think the group I'm working with is great, and although the performance interrupts the week Andy is visiting (which is nice that he gets to see it, but a bummer that I'll be busy in the evenings over one of the weekends), I'm glad to be involved in something.

Overall, my goal for the semester is to be happy and not feel sorry for myself. I'm going to get out, and not make school work a top priority, because last semester, it ate me up, and frankly, I don't like my program enough to be quite that involved again. Chilling out and focusing on other things has been good for me, and I like my frame of mind of late. So we're going to try to stick with that.

And now, off to read. Seriously. At least for awhile.