You probably think that I'm super popular and always have a million obligations on my social calendar: lunching with the ladies, romantic dinners with my many suitors, chic all-white (clothing, not people) parties with A list celebs. While these certainly comprise most of my lifestyle, you'd be surprised to know that I do spend time partaking in plebeian activities, as well. My favorite thing to do is sleep. My second favorite activity is eating. Number three is watching TV. And my fourth favorite pastime is reading. I feel like pastime should have two Ts. It looks too similar to an Italian dish, like pastrami.
As a tot, I read nonstop. Every Sunday, my grandpa and I went to Barnes & Noble. I got to choose three books & I was pretty much a straight series girl: Boxcar Children; Babysitters Club (every iteration, including the inferior Little Sister line); Encyclopedia Brown; Sweet Valley High; Chicken Soup for every kind of soul; Face on the Milk Carton (not sure if this counts as a series but they sure milked the kidnapping saga for all they could - get it? MILKED); the Alice series (did anyone else read this? I loved her but I always felt like I was the only one reading it). I read after school, all weekend, even before school some mornings (who was I?). In high school I still loved reading & made time for it. Then I went to college.
College was a marathon of required reading. Mainly it was uberintellectual hippie feminist ramblings about gender and race and oppression and I loved it all but man it killed my will to read. During the school year, I never read for fun. My brain was overloaded with required reading & writing papers, & any time I wasn't being collegiate-style intellectual, I was going about as far in the other direction as possible & watching some sort of Housewives (Desperate or Real, doesn't matter to me).
Then I came back to middle school.
Because I function at a 12 year old level right now, all my brain power goes to solving predicaments such as: How do I find the area of a trapezoid? What is a conjunction? How do I stop this kid from crying/screaming/refusing to do his work? Granted, I had to dig deep to remember the trapezoid formula, I embarrassingly confused conjunctions & interjections, & I will win some sort of national acclaim if I solve that last doozy. But it's a different reserve of my energy I am tapping into, which leaves a lot of empty space. So I can read again! Wheeee!
I'm hitting both the young adult and the real adult shelves, scooping up gems like The Hunger Games & To Kill a Mockingbird, as well as books that were on my Official List, like The Help & currently, Freedom. I cherish every DEAR day where, if the gods are on my side, or if I bribe the pups effectively with UNO, we all silently read for a solid 45 minutes. It's calm, it's productive, it's pure enjoyment - in short, it's nothing like the rest of the day. Kidding. Partially.
If you've read any great books, send them my way. I could always use some entertainment during the downtime on my private jet, which I use to transport myself to normal activities like safaris and weekending at Clooney's Italian villa. Or just the commercial airplanes that I use for things like going to DC to visit my friends or returning to the greatest locale of all, Kansas, both of which I will actually be doing THIS WEEKEND! Ahh, log another point for the East Coast: February break, up until now merely a myth to this midwesterner, is upon us.
PS. I just need to document this for posterity: BOTH of my 8th grade boys - by far the kids who like me least and think everything I do is excessively cheesy - brought me valentines today. It's like they shoot me down just to bring me back up again.
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
law school word vom
Applying to law school is the most stressful thing I have experienced in about three years. Not since sophomore year of college, otherwise known as The Year of Too Many Responsibilities, Too Much Homework, & Too Much Stress-Sleeping, have I been so familiar with the ever-present stomach churning and cloud of anxiety weighing on me. Whenever I start thinking or speaking about it, a barrage of competing thoughts & fears come spewing out full speed. Word vomit, if you will.*
The actual applications weren't that hard once I got all the necessary documents together. The wait was a little worse because if there's one thing all humans hate, it's uncertainty. And traffic. But in this case, uncertainty. No, the hardest part has undoubtedly been the decision making. If you have been reading awhile, you may remember my terminal struggle with LAS. Making big decisions is tough stuff for us. It's the fear of permanent commitment, the need to analyze every consequence of every option, the eternal second-guessing of whether we're making the best choice, what other people will think of us, and will this make me truly happy, like in that deep Garden State this is so meaningful sort of way?
A few weeks ago, I got accepted to Stanford. Stanford has long been at the top of my list, but despite not believing in fate, I do believe in some sort of karmic energy thing and I didn't want to jinx myself by announcing to the world that I wanted to go there. But I did. I'm talking obsessively refreshing the threads where insane law school applicants track every application and decision to identify possible patterns of what kinds of people are accepted when. I began constantly checking my application status to see if they had already accepted me but just accidentally forgot to call me (what? why did I think this?). I even took to following the admission dean's blog to see if I could glean any useful tidbits about when I would hear back. The only thing I learned is that she is from Hawaii. Which was not helpful.
If deciding is the Marissa Cooper of the process (annoying, dramatic, ODing in Tijuana), then getting an acceptance call is the Seth Cohen (light, fun, a reason to wake up every day). And getting that call from the S was so0o0o0o exciting/fulfilling/relieving. Clearly I told my kids. Their reactions were, per usual, all over the board. Here's what happened:
8th grade: They know what Stanford is and understand the concept of law school so they're low key impressed with me. They start to think I'm smarter than they give me credit for. They also think it's crazy to go to three more years of school after getting a college degree. They would obviously pick Harvard, they say, but Stanford is cool too. They think I'm almost legit now and I am loving it.
6th grade: They have no idea what law school is and have never heard of Stanford but they sense my excitement and we do high fives all around (clarification: we do 1-2-5s, which I will explain to you one day). They worry that this means I'm leaving immediately. Can't get rid of me that easily, my tiny cubs. They write me a note saying "Ms Carter we are so proud of you congratz." I almost cry right then and there.
7th grade: They ask me tons of questions about California and what law school is like. They are visibly impressed. "You're so smart. You never got held back a grade." Well. I suppose that's true. "Man you've never even been suspended, have you?" Also true. I'm not sure if it was a direct cause and effect situation, but while we're still just trying to make it through 7th grade, these are the benchmarks of success we will strive to attain. They tell me I'm one of the coolest tutors. I feel validated.
At this stage in the game, I am feeling a lot of feelings. And if there's one thing I hate, besides uncertainty and traffic, it's feelings. Once upon a time, I had no feelings. Just ask my high school friends. I was empty inside. Life was simple. But that's another story. If there were no long-term consequences or factors I genuinely need to consider, I would definitely go to Stanford. However, it is really expensive, like I could buy a house with one year's fees expensive. Practically, I don't know if it makes the most sense, and furthermore, I'm really ready to be close to home again. My Midwestern spirit is being suppressed by this cold (both in temperature and temperament) New England lifestyle. This is the part of the process that is far less glamorous and thrilling so if you want to hear my endless rambles of anxiety and indecision, you just let me know. My mom will be okay with letting someone else field those fun-filled calls. If you want to offer me insight, please hand it over. But don't tell me where you would go if this were your decision because you know what, this is my life, so you can suck it.
End word vom.
*Speaking of word vom, & by that I mean speaking of Rachel McAdams, which of her 2004 hits was your favorite: Mean Girls, The Notebook, or Wedding Crashers? I have actually lost sleep (maybe 4 minutes max, I love my sleep) debating this with myself. They're all so good!!!!
The actual applications weren't that hard once I got all the necessary documents together. The wait was a little worse because if there's one thing all humans hate, it's uncertainty. And traffic. But in this case, uncertainty. No, the hardest part has undoubtedly been the decision making. If you have been reading awhile, you may remember my terminal struggle with LAS. Making big decisions is tough stuff for us. It's the fear of permanent commitment, the need to analyze every consequence of every option, the eternal second-guessing of whether we're making the best choice, what other people will think of us, and will this make me truly happy, like in that deep Garden State this is so meaningful sort of way?
A few weeks ago, I got accepted to Stanford. Stanford has long been at the top of my list, but despite not believing in fate, I do believe in some sort of karmic energy thing and I didn't want to jinx myself by announcing to the world that I wanted to go there. But I did. I'm talking obsessively refreshing the threads where insane law school applicants track every application and decision to identify possible patterns of what kinds of people are accepted when. I began constantly checking my application status to see if they had already accepted me but just accidentally forgot to call me (what? why did I think this?). I even took to following the admission dean's blog to see if I could glean any useful tidbits about when I would hear back. The only thing I learned is that she is from Hawaii. Which was not helpful.
If deciding is the Marissa Cooper of the process (annoying, dramatic, ODing in Tijuana), then getting an acceptance call is the Seth Cohen (light, fun, a reason to wake up every day). And getting that call from the S was so0o0o0o exciting/fulfilling/relieving. Clearly I told my kids. Their reactions were, per usual, all over the board. Here's what happened:
8th grade: They know what Stanford is and understand the concept of law school so they're low key impressed with me. They start to think I'm smarter than they give me credit for. They also think it's crazy to go to three more years of school after getting a college degree. They would obviously pick Harvard, they say, but Stanford is cool too. They think I'm almost legit now and I am loving it.
6th grade: They have no idea what law school is and have never heard of Stanford but they sense my excitement and we do high fives all around (clarification: we do 1-2-5s, which I will explain to you one day). They worry that this means I'm leaving immediately. Can't get rid of me that easily, my tiny cubs. They write me a note saying "Ms Carter we are so proud of you congratz." I almost cry right then and there.
7th grade: They ask me tons of questions about California and what law school is like. They are visibly impressed. "You're so smart. You never got held back a grade." Well. I suppose that's true. "Man you've never even been suspended, have you?" Also true. I'm not sure if it was a direct cause and effect situation, but while we're still just trying to make it through 7th grade, these are the benchmarks of success we will strive to attain. They tell me I'm one of the coolest tutors. I feel validated.
At this stage in the game, I am feeling a lot of feelings. And if there's one thing I hate, besides uncertainty and traffic, it's feelings. Once upon a time, I had no feelings. Just ask my high school friends. I was empty inside. Life was simple. But that's another story. If there were no long-term consequences or factors I genuinely need to consider, I would definitely go to Stanford. However, it is really expensive, like I could buy a house with one year's fees expensive. Practically, I don't know if it makes the most sense, and furthermore, I'm really ready to be close to home again. My Midwestern spirit is being suppressed by this cold (both in temperature and temperament) New England lifestyle. This is the part of the process that is far less glamorous and thrilling so if you want to hear my endless rambles of anxiety and indecision, you just let me know. My mom will be okay with letting someone else field those fun-filled calls. If you want to offer me insight, please hand it over. But don't tell me where you would go if this were your decision because you know what, this is my life, so you can suck it.
End word vom.
*Speaking of word vom, & by that I mean speaking of Rachel McAdams, which of her 2004 hits was your favorite: Mean Girls, The Notebook, or Wedding Crashers? I have actually lost sleep (maybe 4 minutes max, I love my sleep) debating this with myself. They're all so good!!!!
Friday, January 27, 2012
fish friday
A Catholic organization provides our lunches and one thing I learned from having Catholic friends is that they don't eat red meat on Fridays. I thought that only applied to Lent but maybe it's year round. Who knows? Now that I think about it, my friends aren't all that Catholic. Well, the lunch providers strongly believe in fish Fridays, so at the end of every week, the kids have a rectangle of ambiguous fish plopped onto a serving of rice or mac n cheese. Okay. I know prepackaged fish is always a tough sell, but because these are middle schoolers, they are disgusted by every meal that isn't pasta or chicken nuggets. The catch is that there is also chocolate cake on Fridays, and to get the cake, you gotta take the whole meal. Therefore there is a lot of half-eaten fish, completely unopened containers, & fish decimated into chunks by an angry 6th grader and his spork. That's where I come in.
I like all food. I am not a picky eater. Picky eaters annoy me because what they're basically saying is they are above you and your simple fare. It's especially obnoxious when you did all this work to prepare a nice meal for someone and then they attempt to discretely avoid eating something. This is merely a hypothetical for me because I don't cook but for omelets and pasta. Fish, however, is one food for which I had to acquire a taste. I think this sentence is grammatically correct, but it sounds awful. That's what I don't like about grammar. I also like to start sentences with "but." So I do it. Suck it, Mrs. Straus. JK love ya Laura. Other foods I used to hate but now like include: onions, mushrooms, tomatoes, mustard, and pretzels. As it turns out I only dislike two foods in this world now: dried fruits and marshmallows. Just letting you know for the next time you invite me to your dinner party.
As I write this, I am swallowing the last flakes of my my fish patty. I have to say, I find the whole meal pretty tasty, minus the occasional sharp boney parts that get stuck in my teeth and remind me that what I'm eating used to be alive. Then I start considering whether I should have stuck with my vegetarianism because honestly I don't like meat that much. By "my vegetarianism," I mean the three days I told my family I wasn't eating meat for "moral reasons." My dad still reminds me of that phase every time we have steak for dinner. And I could totally be the hippie environmental girl. And I'd probably lose a few lbs. Then I'm like oh wait I love chicken nuggets. And vegetarianism has to be done right or else you just look like a pretentious tool who does things "for moral reasons."
The rambling and bizarre tone of this blog post reflects my typical Friday mood. Fridays are a weird day with lots of menial obligations but no real deadlines or urgency. I try to get as much done as possible for the next wave of Monday-Thursday madness, but I also do things like online shop and try my ring on every finger to figure out which finger is fattest. Generally I have a weekend-induced burst of energy that occasionally takes me to the gym but mostly leads me to attempt a nap for hours (a nap that fails due to the weekend-induced burst of energy and is in reality just me sleeping in spurts of 15 minutes before I jolt myself awake again). Fridays are when I discover what heinous things the GOP is saying now and what is trending on Twitter.
I think I am going to do a Fish Friday series where I share with you the things that I am thinking about. Here are some things on my mind this Friday:
1. Is it a serious issue that my foot falls asleep at least three times a week?
2. I can't wait to see The Vow. Like, no shame, opening day, I must see it. I adore Rachel McAdams, and we've already established that I love love.
3. This week contains both Australia Day and Kansas Day. As these are my two favorite locations, & I generally support all holidays, this should be my favorite week of the year. It's not.
4. If I went to Brown, would I have actively tried to befriend Emma Watson? Or would I have pretended to be above the hype & only casually run into her at rugby games? We all know the answer to this one.
5. I think the phrase "COB" is hilarious. Does every workplace use it? I had no idea what it meant the first few times I saw it. I just thought of corn on a cob and chuckled to myself. Yet another reason I am not meant to be member of the workforce.
Five is enough. I should have called this Fish Fiveday.
I like all food. I am not a picky eater. Picky eaters annoy me because what they're basically saying is they are above you and your simple fare. It's especially obnoxious when you did all this work to prepare a nice meal for someone and then they attempt to discretely avoid eating something. This is merely a hypothetical for me because I don't cook but for omelets and pasta. Fish, however, is one food for which I had to acquire a taste. I think this sentence is grammatically correct, but it sounds awful. That's what I don't like about grammar. I also like to start sentences with "but." So I do it. Suck it, Mrs. Straus. JK love ya Laura. Other foods I used to hate but now like include: onions, mushrooms, tomatoes, mustard, and pretzels. As it turns out I only dislike two foods in this world now: dried fruits and marshmallows. Just letting you know for the next time you invite me to your dinner party.
As I write this, I am swallowing the last flakes of my my fish patty. I have to say, I find the whole meal pretty tasty, minus the occasional sharp boney parts that get stuck in my teeth and remind me that what I'm eating used to be alive. Then I start considering whether I should have stuck with my vegetarianism because honestly I don't like meat that much. By "my vegetarianism," I mean the three days I told my family I wasn't eating meat for "moral reasons." My dad still reminds me of that phase every time we have steak for dinner. And I could totally be the hippie environmental girl. And I'd probably lose a few lbs. Then I'm like oh wait I love chicken nuggets. And vegetarianism has to be done right or else you just look like a pretentious tool who does things "for moral reasons."
The rambling and bizarre tone of this blog post reflects my typical Friday mood. Fridays are a weird day with lots of menial obligations but no real deadlines or urgency. I try to get as much done as possible for the next wave of Monday-Thursday madness, but I also do things like online shop and try my ring on every finger to figure out which finger is fattest. Generally I have a weekend-induced burst of energy that occasionally takes me to the gym but mostly leads me to attempt a nap for hours (a nap that fails due to the weekend-induced burst of energy and is in reality just me sleeping in spurts of 15 minutes before I jolt myself awake again). Fridays are when I discover what heinous things the GOP is saying now and what is trending on Twitter.
I think I am going to do a Fish Friday series where I share with you the things that I am thinking about. Here are some things on my mind this Friday:
1. Is it a serious issue that my foot falls asleep at least three times a week?
2. I can't wait to see The Vow. Like, no shame, opening day, I must see it. I adore Rachel McAdams, and we've already established that I love love.
3. This week contains both Australia Day and Kansas Day. As these are my two favorite locations, & I generally support all holidays, this should be my favorite week of the year. It's not.
4. If I went to Brown, would I have actively tried to befriend Emma Watson? Or would I have pretended to be above the hype & only casually run into her at rugby games? We all know the answer to this one.
5. I think the phrase "COB" is hilarious. Does every workplace use it? I had no idea what it meant the first few times I saw it. I just thought of corn on a cob and chuckled to myself. Yet another reason I am not meant to be member of the workforce.
Five is enough. I should have called this Fish Fiveday.
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
engaged!
No. Not me. Last week I aggressively stomped out a heart-shaped pile of slush and a 6th grader shook her head and remarked, "And that's why you'll never find love."
My dear friends Michael and Alyssa, however, have found love in a hopeless place. When I saw their engagement on facebook -- yes I saw it on facebook first and no I don't miss the days when people cared enough to call or send a message on a horse or whatever people used to do -- I screamed. Even though I don't believe in marriage (I know, I know, do I believe in anything? No.), I do love love.
Even Slytherins believe in love
Freshman gym class. That's where Michael and I first met. He was fresh from New York, a bonafied East Coaster transplanted to the great state of Kansas. He had no friends but a huge ego (sorry pal, it's the truth) so he was not afraid to chatter away. These were the days of sitting in alphabetical order, so we end up next to each other. Note: The beginning of the alphabet is where it's at. There are details from that first convo that I cannot divulge in order to protect the parties involved, but suffice it to say I did not anticipate being friends that year, let alone 8 years later. Then he started singing A Whole New World and everything changed.
A few things about Michael:
- Michael is extremely nerdy & loves things like Star Wars & debate.
- Michael enjoys foreign cultures & was the only person in our Spanish class who actually enjoyed the experience.
- Michael can sing really well and was in many a high school musical (not to be confused with High School Musical, the catalyst for my love story with Zac Efron).
- Michael once wore a jersey to school. It was hilarious.
- Michael is a drama queen.
Senior year of high school... was a joke
The Michael of yesteryear was a free bird. He flittered about for many years, always claiming he would never settle down to make a permanent nest. I am making the bird analogy to avoid using the words "slutty phase." Then came Alyssa and everything changed again.
A few things about Alyssa:
- Alyssa is a redhead, but in that intriguing, distinctive Ariel sort of way, not the bizarre, oh-god-she's-weird Annie sort of way.
- Alyssa is a great hostess & always provides food for us, which is all I ask for in a friend.
- Alyssa tends to fall asleep while watching movies. By that I mean every time I've ever watched a movie at her apartment she has fallen asleep.
- Alyssa is going to nursing school &, in terms of getting her shit together, is a full 5 steps ahead of the rest of us.
- Alyssa is one of the most laid back people I've ever met. Nothing seems to phase her.
Everybody loves a theme pic with racist undertones
Based on my comprehensive character sketches of these two souls, you should have a full visual of how rom-com perfect the pair is: some hilarious differences that make for audience entertainment and a little spice but true compatibility and alignment where it counts. Bonus: brown babies on deck! WHOO HOO!
This is the first friend wedding I'm attending, which makes makes me question some things: is my friend count too low? do I choose friends who are loveless? are friends getting married without telling me? Regardless, this is going to be a celebration of love and commitment blah blah blah but mainly a fiesta for the ages! I am truly happy for my pals & I wish them a lifetime of happiness. But before that starts, can't wait for Michael to sing A Whole New World to Alyssa during the reception!
My dear friends Michael and Alyssa, however, have found love in a hopeless place. When I saw their engagement on facebook -- yes I saw it on facebook first and no I don't miss the days when people cared enough to call or send a message on a horse or whatever people used to do -- I screamed. Even though I don't believe in marriage (I know, I know, do I believe in anything? No.), I do love love.
Even Slytherins believe in loveA few things about Michael:
- Michael is extremely nerdy & loves things like Star Wars & debate.
- Michael enjoys foreign cultures & was the only person in our Spanish class who actually enjoyed the experience.
- Michael can sing really well and was in many a high school musical (not to be confused with High School Musical, the catalyst for my love story with Zac Efron).
- Michael once wore a jersey to school. It was hilarious.
- Michael is a drama queen.
Senior year of high school... was a joke
A few things about Alyssa:
- Alyssa is a redhead, but in that intriguing, distinctive Ariel sort of way, not the bizarre, oh-god-she's-weird Annie sort of way.
- Alyssa is a great hostess & always provides food for us, which is all I ask for in a friend.
- Alyssa tends to fall asleep while watching movies. By that I mean every time I've ever watched a movie at her apartment she has fallen asleep.
- Alyssa is going to nursing school &, in terms of getting her shit together, is a full 5 steps ahead of the rest of us.
- Alyssa is one of the most laid back people I've ever met. Nothing seems to phase her.
Everybody loves a theme pic with racist undertonesThis is the first friend wedding I'm attending, which makes makes me question some things: is my friend count too low? do I choose friends who are loveless? are friends getting married without telling me? Regardless, this is going to be a celebration of love and commitment blah blah blah but mainly a fiesta for the ages! I am truly happy for my pals & I wish them a lifetime of happiness. But before that starts, can't wait for Michael to sing A Whole New World to Alyssa during the reception!
Thursday, January 19, 2012
this wednesday
You know I work at a middle school. But I don't think you fully realize how much can happen in one day. To give you a fuller picture of what goes on in these hallowed halls, I documented yesterday's antics. Just a simple Wednesday. Try to keep up & please contain your insane jealousy of my glamorous life.
This Wednesday, I ...
Told my 8th graders I'm going to the London Olympics this summer. They thought I was lying. I clearly am. But they are children, and they will eventually believe anything. I told them I won tickets last summer & I'm soooo excited to go. I will keep up this ruse as long as possible & may go as far as sending them a postcard wishing they were here in London with me.
Heard my 7th graders tell me I have nice eyebrows. This is by far my most complimented body part. It's better than the alternative, but it's a disappointing category to win. I just want cascading hair or Michelle Obama arms.
Witnessed my 6th grader's 46th (official count) meltdown of the year. The silent cry is her specialty. Earlier in the year, I felt so sad when she cried that I pulled her into the hallway to discuss her feelings and rehash the whole incident. That took too much time & wasn't solving anything. Then I asked my mom how to deal with it & naturally she gave me her world reknown Lisa Lines. I busted them out & now the meltdowns, while they still happen, are less frequent and less agonizing. By the end of the hour, my kid was back to chipper, frantically waving goodbye to me. I wish you I could give you all a disc of prerecorded Lisa Lines. They never fail.
Answered the completely serious question, "Do you know who Alicia Keys is?" I have one buttercup who just doesn't understand that we, too, have music in Kansas. She consistently refers to me as a "simple girl from Kansas." Which I am. But her tone is so biting.
Fought off a girl trying to steal my chicken nuggets. Chicken nugget day is the NCAA championship game of lunches here (I don't care about the Superbowl so that analogy doesn't work for me). Even the girls who refuse to eat lunch most days get down with the nuggets. My favorite lunch date, this tiny, perfectly behaved girl, goes crazy for the chicken nuggets and always eats at least two portions (8-10 nugs) because her friend doesn't like them. She tried to take mine, too, but that wasn't happening. Mama's gotta eat too.
Got called out on my dorkiness three times. The first: We're learning about interjections. I mention that I like "fiddlesticks!" as an interjection. Reaction: "Fiddlesticks is not cool. It's not 1949 anymore." The second: Chicken-nugget girl tells me she knows her tutor's first name. I say, "You mean Ms.?" Her friend (anti nugget girl) says with this hilarious sass, "We know they have names. We're NOT 5. This isn't like Santa Claus." The third: I tell my kids I'm hip. They burst out laughing hysterically.
Played UNO yet again. My kids have these stupid rules about "stacks" and believe that you can add +4 cards on top of each other. You just can't do that. Luckily, my cards = my rules. Also, playing UNO at 8:30 am every day for 10 months means I will never play this game again in my life. Also, why do I capitalize the whole word in UNO? Is that correct?
Convinced a group of 6th graders I'm extremely wealthy due to my uncle Michael Jordan. There are so many holes in this story. They know my first name is Jordan but missed the mark when it comes to the whole first name/ last name not being the same thing. Even though they didn't understand why I'm still working since I am a millionaire, they appreciated that I cared enough about the kids to take a break from my life of leisure to teach them about coordinate planes.
Debated a kid on whether I could/should be Lil Wayne's wife, you know, because I'm a Carter. Also, the Boston accent saying "Carter" is so much cooler than the Midwestern pronunciation. When the kids address me as "The Carter 4," I realize this is as good as it's ever gonna get.
Learned the phrase, "She's been gone for a grip!" A "grip" is a long time.
Planned a trip to see Joyful Noise, a movie I have zero interest in seeing at age 21 but definitely would have seen opening day in middle school. Probably as part of those double features that were popular in the early 2000s. Fighting Temptations, anyone??
Teared up when a kid came back from suspension because he was so purely happy to be back. He is a good, hard-working kid who made a bad choice. Our school is moving away from a zero tolerance policy, so his future at the school was up in the air. For many of these kids, leaving this school means going to a crap public school and most likely having a crap future. I was really happy to see him back in action & it was just beautiful watching him fist pump his pals during lunch. Thinking back, though, it may have been inappropriate to tear up during chicken nugget time.
Reviewed a suspiciously large range of American black history in about 30 minutes - from slavery to the Civil War to Emmett Till to Brown v. Board (WHAT UP TOPEKA). Also reviewed the Holocaust in a conversation I would have been embarrassed to have anyone else hear. Let's just say it has been many moons since I have taken a history class...
Listened to the most stereotypically girly conversation between my 7th graders while simultaneously maintaining an air of superiority and secretly being totally into it. Topics included: zits; past exes; a full rundown of every couple in the school; speculation about which tutors were dating. Then I regained control of the conversation and made them write down things they liked about each other. Smart, funny, and loud. Those are solid character traits. I was satisfied.
Shot down every single excuse a girl in my bus room presented to leave the room. She is always so miserable and labels tutors who make her do things as "the devil." She also hoards the rolls from lunch but that is neither here nor there. Occasionally she is so disgusted with the rest of us that she takes her chair to the corner of the room and sits facing the wall to protest us. Better than being called the devil I suppose.
Shared a bag of caramel popcorn, chocolate chunks, and nuts with my 7th graders after school. They let me have the last chocolate chunk because they knew how much I loved them. Then we discovered that not only were there almonds, there were cashews! As one of them exclaimed, "This is a glorious day!"
And it was.
Epilogue: The very next day, both of these gals contracted the stomach flu. One of them vommed on the stairwell. So glad all of our hands were digging through that same bag of food. So as I count down the hours til I find myself spewing, too, I look back on yesterday and think, I kinda love middle school after all.
This Wednesday, I ...
Told my 8th graders I'm going to the London Olympics this summer. They thought I was lying. I clearly am. But they are children, and they will eventually believe anything. I told them I won tickets last summer & I'm soooo excited to go. I will keep up this ruse as long as possible & may go as far as sending them a postcard wishing they were here in London with me.
Heard my 7th graders tell me I have nice eyebrows. This is by far my most complimented body part. It's better than the alternative, but it's a disappointing category to win. I just want cascading hair or Michelle Obama arms.
Witnessed my 6th grader's 46th (official count) meltdown of the year. The silent cry is her specialty. Earlier in the year, I felt so sad when she cried that I pulled her into the hallway to discuss her feelings and rehash the whole incident. That took too much time & wasn't solving anything. Then I asked my mom how to deal with it & naturally she gave me her world reknown Lisa Lines. I busted them out & now the meltdowns, while they still happen, are less frequent and less agonizing. By the end of the hour, my kid was back to chipper, frantically waving goodbye to me. I wish you I could give you all a disc of prerecorded Lisa Lines. They never fail.
Answered the completely serious question, "Do you know who Alicia Keys is?" I have one buttercup who just doesn't understand that we, too, have music in Kansas. She consistently refers to me as a "simple girl from Kansas." Which I am. But her tone is so biting.
Fought off a girl trying to steal my chicken nuggets. Chicken nugget day is the NCAA championship game of lunches here (I don't care about the Superbowl so that analogy doesn't work for me). Even the girls who refuse to eat lunch most days get down with the nuggets. My favorite lunch date, this tiny, perfectly behaved girl, goes crazy for the chicken nuggets and always eats at least two portions (8-10 nugs) because her friend doesn't like them. She tried to take mine, too, but that wasn't happening. Mama's gotta eat too.
Got called out on my dorkiness three times. The first: We're learning about interjections. I mention that I like "fiddlesticks!" as an interjection. Reaction: "Fiddlesticks is not cool. It's not 1949 anymore." The second: Chicken-nugget girl tells me she knows her tutor's first name. I say, "You mean Ms.?" Her friend (anti nugget girl) says with this hilarious sass, "We know they have names. We're NOT 5. This isn't like Santa Claus." The third: I tell my kids I'm hip. They burst out laughing hysterically.
Played UNO yet again. My kids have these stupid rules about "stacks" and believe that you can add +4 cards on top of each other. You just can't do that. Luckily, my cards = my rules. Also, playing UNO at 8:30 am every day for 10 months means I will never play this game again in my life. Also, why do I capitalize the whole word in UNO? Is that correct?
Convinced a group of 6th graders I'm extremely wealthy due to my uncle Michael Jordan. There are so many holes in this story. They know my first name is Jordan but missed the mark when it comes to the whole first name/ last name not being the same thing. Even though they didn't understand why I'm still working since I am a millionaire, they appreciated that I cared enough about the kids to take a break from my life of leisure to teach them about coordinate planes.
Debated a kid on whether I could/should be Lil Wayne's wife, you know, because I'm a Carter. Also, the Boston accent saying "Carter" is so much cooler than the Midwestern pronunciation. When the kids address me as "The Carter 4," I realize this is as good as it's ever gonna get.
Learned the phrase, "She's been gone for a grip!" A "grip" is a long time.
Planned a trip to see Joyful Noise, a movie I have zero interest in seeing at age 21 but definitely would have seen opening day in middle school. Probably as part of those double features that were popular in the early 2000s. Fighting Temptations, anyone??
Teared up when a kid came back from suspension because he was so purely happy to be back. He is a good, hard-working kid who made a bad choice. Our school is moving away from a zero tolerance policy, so his future at the school was up in the air. For many of these kids, leaving this school means going to a crap public school and most likely having a crap future. I was really happy to see him back in action & it was just beautiful watching him fist pump his pals during lunch. Thinking back, though, it may have been inappropriate to tear up during chicken nugget time.
Reviewed a suspiciously large range of American black history in about 30 minutes - from slavery to the Civil War to Emmett Till to Brown v. Board (WHAT UP TOPEKA). Also reviewed the Holocaust in a conversation I would have been embarrassed to have anyone else hear. Let's just say it has been many moons since I have taken a history class...
Listened to the most stereotypically girly conversation between my 7th graders while simultaneously maintaining an air of superiority and secretly being totally into it. Topics included: zits; past exes; a full rundown of every couple in the school; speculation about which tutors were dating. Then I regained control of the conversation and made them write down things they liked about each other. Smart, funny, and loud. Those are solid character traits. I was satisfied.
Shot down every single excuse a girl in my bus room presented to leave the room. She is always so miserable and labels tutors who make her do things as "the devil." She also hoards the rolls from lunch but that is neither here nor there. Occasionally she is so disgusted with the rest of us that she takes her chair to the corner of the room and sits facing the wall to protest us. Better than being called the devil I suppose.
Shared a bag of caramel popcorn, chocolate chunks, and nuts with my 7th graders after school. They let me have the last chocolate chunk because they knew how much I loved them. Then we discovered that not only were there almonds, there were cashews! As one of them exclaimed, "This is a glorious day!"
And it was.
Epilogue: The very next day, both of these gals contracted the stomach flu. One of them vommed on the stairwell. So glad all of our hands were digging through that same bag of food. So as I count down the hours til I find myself spewing, too, I look back on yesterday and think, I kinda love middle school after all.
Saturday, January 14, 2012
luck is not real
Oprah says, "Luck is when preparation meets opportunity." Oprah has never been wrong about anything except that sketchy South African school administrator debacle. Her definition of luck is one I like. I don't think I believe in traditional luck & I definitely don't believe in fate. This seems to be a running theme, me not believing in anything.
It annoys me when people say they're unlucky. Take some personal responsibility for your life! Crappy things happen to you, I get it, but they happen to your co-worker and your roommate and even to me, yes, the one person whose life you imagined to be blissfully flawless. The tiny things you call unlucky I call coincidence or, more likely, poor decision making. Missed the train? Ya should have planned your trip better! Ruined a piece of clothing? Stop being a slob (personal goal #1). Disastrous in relationships? Choose people who have jobs instead of patterns of drug abuse. When you are lazy and blame some higher force for things that don't go well, then you better be thanking that same power for all the good things that happen to you. Your A on your final was definitely because your professor luckily chose the blatantly obvious questions, not because you studied. Luckily you were born with a deep passion for exercising and an allergy to carbs - that's why you are in such good shape!
Ugh. I feel like such a Republican saying things like "If you just work hard, you'll be successful!" "Take responsibility for your life!" Trust that this is more upsetting to me than it is to you. It was hard enough to start wearing my elephant necklace in public (I love elephants, ask me about them anytime). But what I'm talking about here is strictly your white whines. There is a difference between luck and fortune. I am fortunate enough to have a lot of opportunities that millions of people don't have. I fully believe in the matrices of oppression (lest you forget about my women & gender studies major) but I'm guessing that anyone who is leisurely reading this blog on their laptop while sipping on a $4 drink is on a relatively level playing field with me.
So even though I can't control everything (if I could, I'd have more tamable hair, grow a few inches taller, and be related to some NBA season ticket holder), I can prepare. I have prepared myself to go to law school, taking advantage of key opportunities, and I will punch you if you say my acceptances were lucky. Thinking about the wretched LSAT still makes me nervously chew my hair (personal goal #2). Next I shall prepare myself for the day an exec from Glamour stumbles upon my blog and offers me a monthly column. That will be preparation -- dedication to my hilariously entertaining yet deeply meaningful blog -- meeting opportunity.
Don't even get me started on fate. Fate as a concept is just ridiculous. Whatever I do, things are still gonna end up a certain way? Uh no thanks. This was meant to be?!?! That's a creepy idea, and plus, why should I work for anything then? In the JC explanation of life, it's all about timing. Sometimes things happen at the right time and sometimes they don't. If they don't, you move on and work to make something else happen. You are the agent of change, the quarterback of your team, the captain of your ship. You are so moved by these metaphors.
To make it more concrete: say I want to go on a trip. Now, where I want to go more than anywhere else is Greece, and I want to go this summer. But you know what, that's not gonna happen. None of this "if it's meant to be, I'll end up there." That's vague and unrealistic. None of this, "I don't have any money so I guess it just isn't in the cards for me." That's just plain depressing. Here's what will happen: I am going to wait until I have a job that pays more than a nickel at a time, save up, buy the ticket, book some cheap hostels, and fly there. I will be in Greece and have a rollicking good time. That, my friends, is my kind of fate.
It annoys me when people say they're unlucky. Take some personal responsibility for your life! Crappy things happen to you, I get it, but they happen to your co-worker and your roommate and even to me, yes, the one person whose life you imagined to be blissfully flawless. The tiny things you call unlucky I call coincidence or, more likely, poor decision making. Missed the train? Ya should have planned your trip better! Ruined a piece of clothing? Stop being a slob (personal goal #1). Disastrous in relationships? Choose people who have jobs instead of patterns of drug abuse. When you are lazy and blame some higher force for things that don't go well, then you better be thanking that same power for all the good things that happen to you. Your A on your final was definitely because your professor luckily chose the blatantly obvious questions, not because you studied. Luckily you were born with a deep passion for exercising and an allergy to carbs - that's why you are in such good shape!
Ugh. I feel like such a Republican saying things like "If you just work hard, you'll be successful!" "Take responsibility for your life!" Trust that this is more upsetting to me than it is to you. It was hard enough to start wearing my elephant necklace in public (I love elephants, ask me about them anytime). But what I'm talking about here is strictly your white whines. There is a difference between luck and fortune. I am fortunate enough to have a lot of opportunities that millions of people don't have. I fully believe in the matrices of oppression (lest you forget about my women & gender studies major) but I'm guessing that anyone who is leisurely reading this blog on their laptop while sipping on a $4 drink is on a relatively level playing field with me.
So even though I can't control everything (if I could, I'd have more tamable hair, grow a few inches taller, and be related to some NBA season ticket holder), I can prepare. I have prepared myself to go to law school, taking advantage of key opportunities, and I will punch you if you say my acceptances were lucky. Thinking about the wretched LSAT still makes me nervously chew my hair (personal goal #2). Next I shall prepare myself for the day an exec from Glamour stumbles upon my blog and offers me a monthly column. That will be preparation -- dedication to my hilariously entertaining yet deeply meaningful blog -- meeting opportunity.
Don't even get me started on fate. Fate as a concept is just ridiculous. Whatever I do, things are still gonna end up a certain way? Uh no thanks. This was meant to be?!?! That's a creepy idea, and plus, why should I work for anything then? In the JC explanation of life, it's all about timing. Sometimes things happen at the right time and sometimes they don't. If they don't, you move on and work to make something else happen. You are the agent of change, the quarterback of your team, the captain of your ship. You are so moved by these metaphors.
To make it more concrete: say I want to go on a trip. Now, where I want to go more than anywhere else is Greece, and I want to go this summer. But you know what, that's not gonna happen. None of this "if it's meant to be, I'll end up there." That's vague and unrealistic. None of this, "I don't have any money so I guess it just isn't in the cards for me." That's just plain depressing. Here's what will happen: I am going to wait until I have a job that pays more than a nickel at a time, save up, buy the ticket, book some cheap hostels, and fly there. I will be in Greece and have a rollicking good time. That, my friends, is my kind of fate.
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
believing
I am not a religious person. If you know me, this is old news. If I don't know you -- SURPRISE! I'm a heathen. The Carters are somewhat spiritual folks (check out Lisa's f-book statuses for your daily inspiration), and I do generally believe in something, but the four of us have gone to church together exactly zero times. I prefer Easter brunch to Easter mass and this year's Christmas was dedicated to the birth of the NBA season.
If I had to claim a religion, I'd definitely be Jewish. They believe in tolerance and mitzvahs and generally like to bring each other up instead of tear each other down. Plus I share initials with the OG Jew (JESUS CHRIST!). Mainly, though, I am perfectly content to go about believing in my vague yet all powerful higher power whom I like to imagine looks like a cross between my grandfather and of course Morgan Freeman. My god enjoys going to same sex marriage ceremonies, supports women's rights, and has a weekly get together with other deities because, really, can't we all just get along?
Most of my middle schoolers, however, follow the other, better known JC. This has made for some interesting conversations. When my 7th graders learned about evolution vs. creationism, I was literally shocked. It was like "HEY Toto I guess we are back in Kansas after all." Evolution has always been so obviously the truth for me & it's been a long time since I've interacted with people who explicitly and unequivocally believe in creationism). One of my kids asked me, "So you really believe you came from monkeys?!" and then burst out laughing as though it was the most absurd idea she has ever heard.
I was kinda offended by her blatant intolerance for my beliefs but then I was forced to think about my own intolerance toward her beliefs. What do I know about how the world started?! I choose to believe in science and she chooses to believe in faith and in the end it's just like Jack vs. Locke and if you don't know what that refers to then why are we friends? The point is, if I'm going to go around spouting my beliefs about loving and accepting everyone, then I better walk the walk.
We've also chatted about same sex marriage. Now I know little to nothing about the origin of species but I do know that same sex marriage is literally hurting zero people. I've had one convo that gave me hope for the future generations because it was so clear to them that love is love. They were all, "Everyone should be happy and who cares who it's with" and I was all "YES! YOU GET IT!" It was so 21st century. But I had another convo where I got a Bible verse dropped on me about men lying with men being a sin. I get enough of that from my brother quoting Leviticus for the pure shock value (one time we went through the Bible together looking for the most hateful parts). Our tutorial was meant to be about multiplying decimals, but then I remembered that after middle school everyone uses calculators anyway so I decided to steer the lesson to civil rights. When they've been told their whole life by everyone they trust that gay marriage is wrong, it's completely understandable that they believe it. But they had to stop and think when I asked them what they would do if their best friend told them she was gay. Would they stay friends? Would they attend her wedding? One of my kids decided she would definitely go because she loves weddings. The other one was more conflicted but I at least feel like I presented a viewpoint she'd never considered. When's my No H8 campaign starting up?!
I've even seen kids using the Bible as their DEAR book. Yeah you remember dropping everything and reading. More mixed feelings. Lots of buzzwords come to mind: separation of church and state?! Freedom of religion?! Freedom of speech?! Frankly I think it's strange to read the Bible at school, but I can't really verbalize why. And it's not hurting anyone. I get that. Man, why don't kids read the Babysitters Club series anymore?!?
If you can't relate to my interactions with religious middle schoolers, then surely you can talk Tebow. I mean, the reason we hate/are annoyed by/are perplexed by the guy is ...... ? Because he is religious? Because he gives all the glory to his god and not to himself? I roll my eyes at his verse-inscribed face paint and I just about vommed at his "if my mom had had an abortion, the world would not have benefited from my existence" commercial but we worship all sorts of people who do much worse things than talk about being Christian. Other athletes, musicians, even my beloved Kardashians - Tebow probably has them all beat in terms of being a role model. I just think it's fascinating that he's the controversial one in our society.
I don't really have a main point here. Religion is weird. Let's just all believe in friendship.
If I had to claim a religion, I'd definitely be Jewish. They believe in tolerance and mitzvahs and generally like to bring each other up instead of tear each other down. Plus I share initials with the OG Jew (JESUS CHRIST!). Mainly, though, I am perfectly content to go about believing in my vague yet all powerful higher power whom I like to imagine looks like a cross between my grandfather and of course Morgan Freeman. My god enjoys going to same sex marriage ceremonies, supports women's rights, and has a weekly get together with other deities because, really, can't we all just get along?
Most of my middle schoolers, however, follow the other, better known JC. This has made for some interesting conversations. When my 7th graders learned about evolution vs. creationism, I was literally shocked. It was like "HEY Toto I guess we are back in Kansas after all." Evolution has always been so obviously the truth for me & it's been a long time since I've interacted with people who explicitly and unequivocally believe in creationism). One of my kids asked me, "So you really believe you came from monkeys?!" and then burst out laughing as though it was the most absurd idea she has ever heard.
I was kinda offended by her blatant intolerance for my beliefs but then I was forced to think about my own intolerance toward her beliefs. What do I know about how the world started?! I choose to believe in science and she chooses to believe in faith and in the end it's just like Jack vs. Locke and if you don't know what that refers to then why are we friends? The point is, if I'm going to go around spouting my beliefs about loving and accepting everyone, then I better walk the walk.
We've also chatted about same sex marriage. Now I know little to nothing about the origin of species but I do know that same sex marriage is literally hurting zero people. I've had one convo that gave me hope for the future generations because it was so clear to them that love is love. They were all, "Everyone should be happy and who cares who it's with" and I was all "YES! YOU GET IT!" It was so 21st century. But I had another convo where I got a Bible verse dropped on me about men lying with men being a sin. I get enough of that from my brother quoting Leviticus for the pure shock value (one time we went through the Bible together looking for the most hateful parts). Our tutorial was meant to be about multiplying decimals, but then I remembered that after middle school everyone uses calculators anyway so I decided to steer the lesson to civil rights. When they've been told their whole life by everyone they trust that gay marriage is wrong, it's completely understandable that they believe it. But they had to stop and think when I asked them what they would do if their best friend told them she was gay. Would they stay friends? Would they attend her wedding? One of my kids decided she would definitely go because she loves weddings. The other one was more conflicted but I at least feel like I presented a viewpoint she'd never considered. When's my No H8 campaign starting up?!
I've even seen kids using the Bible as their DEAR book. Yeah you remember dropping everything and reading. More mixed feelings. Lots of buzzwords come to mind: separation of church and state?! Freedom of religion?! Freedom of speech?! Frankly I think it's strange to read the Bible at school, but I can't really verbalize why. And it's not hurting anyone. I get that. Man, why don't kids read the Babysitters Club series anymore?!?
If you can't relate to my interactions with religious middle schoolers, then surely you can talk Tebow. I mean, the reason we hate/are annoyed by/are perplexed by the guy is ...... ? Because he is religious? Because he gives all the glory to his god and not to himself? I roll my eyes at his verse-inscribed face paint and I just about vommed at his "if my mom had had an abortion, the world would not have benefited from my existence" commercial but we worship all sorts of people who do much worse things than talk about being Christian. Other athletes, musicians, even my beloved Kardashians - Tebow probably has them all beat in terms of being a role model. I just think it's fascinating that he's the controversial one in our society.
I don't really have a main point here. Religion is weird. Let's just all believe in friendship.
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