Thank God It’s Friday?

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I had one of the most bizarre days I’ve ever had in my life. It was almost like fiction, it was so horrendous. I couldn’t imagine all this could happen to a real person. After a certain point, I couldn’t do anything but laugh and wonder what would happen next.

To start with, I had an e-mail exchange with a parent who insisted her daughter was the only person who worked on a group project in my class (and must have thought I was lying when I stated my observations that all four girls were working). Her daughter got a 93 on her presentation, but some of the other girls scored higher because they projected and spoke with more poise. I wound up re-evaluating the grade to shut the mom up. To be honest, I think she was incredibly rude to me, though I was very nice to her. I expect an apology will NOT be forthcoming, though.

Next. I got an e-mail from my principal at 8:40 that stated she wanted to meet with me at 8:45. Oh great. Yes, she’d sent it the evening before. She’s really bad about pulling short-notice meetings. Anyway, I walked down the hall. Needed to set a letter of resignation in stone was all. Well, that I can handle. Every time I get a short e-mail from her requesting a meeting, my anxiety shoots through the roof.

Okay. Lunch. We collectively groused about life at our fair school. It feels good to know I’m not the only person feeling disgruntled.

Whoops. Our water at home was cut off, and I had to try to take care of that. The guy I needed to talk to was very hard to get on the phone.

The 7th graders came to class. High spirits abounded. Who knew so many 7th grade boys at my school were pro paper ball/trash can basketball players. If I never see another paper ball again, it will be too soon.

Then they came in my room. The 6th graders. I detest teaching 6th grade. They are immature and irresponsible. This particular class is so unruly. I praised God today was the last day I’d spend with them. Boy did they make it memorable. For crying out loud, they were supposed to be taking a test. I had to constantly shush them. Even the kids who were normally good were partying like it was the last day of school rather than the last day of the quarter. Then. Then. Then. The two boys got into a fight. One pummeled the other in the face repeatedly. He is going to be all kinds of shades of purple, green, and blue. To his credit, he kept calm and did not retaliate. I actually tore them apart. Yes. Me. I swore I’d never get in the middle of two kids fighting, but good God. I couldn’t let that boy savage the other guy. And it was getting bad. I hope the little guy is okay. After I got them separated, I called for their assistant principal, told her what happened, and wrote referrals. Then I called home. I hated having to call a mom and tell her that her son was pounded in my classroom. I kept thinking if it happened to Dylan, I’d be out for blood. What on earth am I going to do if he ever gets in a fight? Anyway, I just don’t get it. The aggressor has always been an angel, and his mom works at the school in the cafeteria. She said I sure was brave getting between those boys considering my size. I replied that I didn’t think about it until later. My heart didn’t settle down for an hour.

I went to talk to the art teacher, and she said one of the other teachers had been the recipient of a written threat to “slit her throat” earlier this year. What happened to the student? Nothing. He was “new” and “didn’t know the rules yet.” Is there a school where slitting teachers’ throats is okay? I guess you learn something new every day.

Yesterday, a couple of boys stole money from the cafeteria cash register. I guess we know who did it. What happened? They were told to return the money by next Wednesday, when the students return to school. They were not arrested. They only had school consequences. I know this because I overheard one of our frequent residents of ISS telling another student. He knows all the crooks.

I cannot believe the state of discipline in my school right now. It’s appalling.

Okay, so back to my day again. I picked up the kids and my husband without incident. We went for dinner. I don’t know why, because I usually don’t give panhandlers money (you never know what they’re really going to do with it), but I gave a guy five dollars. When we left, I had to take one baby at a time, because I can’t carry both, and we were on a busy road. Maggie runs too fast, and Sarah isn’t really much of a help. So I put Dylan in the car. I felt my pockets. Good. Keys were in there. I locked the doors and went for Maggie. I got back to the car. It wasn’t keys I felt, but change and a housekey a student had turned in to me. FUCK! I just locked my 10-month-old son in the car! I scooped Maggie up and dashed across the street. We were nearly hit by a guy who was too busy talking on his cell phone to pay attention to his driving. I yelled “Watch it!” A tall guy hanging out by his car yelled out “Asshole!” to the guy.

I got across the street and called 911. They dispatched the fire department. Well, one minute later, we heard the siren. They sent the big truck with sirens blaring. Three firefighters disembarked. One had an axe. This was looking bad. The tall guy who yelled Asshole came over to see what the ruckus was. He stated he could get the car unlocked with a screwdriver and a coat hanger. This made me uneasy. He went inside the McDonald’s, but said they didn’t have one. Don’t know why they would… One of the firemen found some screwdrivers. The tall guy who yelled Asshole suddenly remembered there was a cleaners nearby, and he ran across the street to get hangers from them. He came back a few minutes later with two hangers. The firemen pried open the little rubber strip on the bottom of the window and opened the lock with the hanger. Did I mention EVERYONE was staring at us?

Dammit, I went to Borders and bought myself two books after that day. I don’t treat myself often, but for once, I decided I needed a prize for making it through the day with all my hair still attached.

I’m going to bed before something else happens. Hopefully I won’t be struck by lightning or picked up by a tornado while I’m incapacitated in the arms of Morpheus.


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This Was My Day

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I woke up about fifteen minutes late. I never heard my alarm go off. Maybe it did, and I shut it off in my sleep.

I got dressed. I had trouble finding socks for Maggie and Dylan. Where do all the baby socks go?

I carried my things out to the car. I didn’t have time to mix Dylan’s bottles, so I poured hot water in bottles and took the can of powdered formula with me. I grabbed three Cokes. One for my husband, two for me (so I didn’t have to go to the machine). I dropped one. It exploded all over. I got it on my clothes and the car. I tried to clean it up as best I could, but we were in a hurry and it was a huge mess.

There were three accidents on I-85. If hubby hadn’t agreed to let Sarah and me go to school first, we’d have been about an hour late. He was late himself. I appreciated the sacrifice.

I took Dylan out of the car at day care, while Hubby got Maggie. Dylan spit up on my silk blouse.

I was starting to think the planets were aligned against me. But I just have one more day with my current crop of students before we change classes. One more quarter.

I have been working on job applications. I hope I won’t have difficulty finding another job. I’ve had it. I’m not alone. We all aired our grievances at lunch. Lots of us are looking elsewhere.

I have a new link for you. A small photo album. You can access it with a link under “About” as well. I wasn’t wearing makeup in a couple of them, so don’t give me hard time. I’ve already had one.

Have a good day, all. Someone needs to.


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Home

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I went home yesterday. Well, I guess technically not my real home. I wonder if I’ve ever had one of those? When someone asks me where I’m from, I am always really puzzled about how to answer. I have always moved around so much. But the place that feels most like home to me is Athens, Georgia. And I went there yesterday. I played hooky from work so I could go to a job fair. I think it was very productive. I talked to representatives from lots of school systems. I got information about lots of upcoming job fairs. I got lots of applications and gave my résumés out to several people. I overheard an ignorant girl hand her own résumé to someone and pronounce, “Here’s my re-ZOOM.” *Cough* Okay. Prospective teacher and all… One principal was excited to hear I’m certified to teach gifted and asked if I would be available to interview next week, but we did not set a firm time. I sent him a follow-up e-mail a couple of hours ago to underscore my interest.

I did some asking around and found out our drama teacher is feeling very unhappy. The principal doesn’t want her to teach gifted, though she’s certified, but will also not allow a transfer. Drama lady has to sign a contract by the end of the week before all the other job fairs. She feels stuck, and she’s looking. She wished me well in my own job search. I just wish the job search was over already. I want to be back in high school. I… really miss it.


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Ruminations

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I wish I could let go of things and not let them bother me, but OCD has made that a difficult hurdle to overcome. I’d like, for once, to be able to believe the praise and sift through the criticism to arrive at the truth. But I tend to believe the criticism and disregard the praise, so I wind up with a clean, pure dislike of myself.

I am worried about not having a job. I have done what I need to do about it — applied to other school systems. But this waiting to see what happens is hard. I prayed about it the other night. God knows I need a job. He knows the needs of my family. He will not let us do without. I simply prayed that his will regarding my career be done. He knows the right place for me to be. He’ll help me find it. Retrospect is something, isn’t it? I know now that the place where I am currently teaching is totally wrong for me and always was. I don’t need to be in middle school. I was a great high school teacher. I don’t have something necessary to be a great middle school teacher. I don’t know what that something is, only that I don’t have it.

In other news, I finally have a home computer again. My computer crashed and wouldn’t load Windows. Dad rescued it. I was going to have to save all my files to floppies in DOS, then reformat the hard drive and re-install Windows. He was able to avoid that. We chatted on the phone today as he helped me get my computer up and running.

So my husband will be gone pretty much all day today. Eugene Onegin is wrapping up today, and he’s performing Mozart’s Requiem at church as well. I need to go fix some dinner for the kids (and myself). It feels so good to have access to a computer at home again.


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Talk About the Passion

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Everyone else is putting in their $.02. I may as well, too.

The Passion of the Christ.

I think I’m going to see it, but I don’t know when. I discussed it with a student on my school newspaper staff this morning. She said it was very moving — that she wanted to go into the movie and stop His suffering.

I have to take those critics of Mel Gibson to task. Yes, I think it’s odd that he’s being so sensitive to media criticism, and I think the way he released the movie to invitation-only groups who agreed not to criticize it is strange. On the other hand, I’ve enjoyed his other movies a great deal (Braveheart is my favorite movie). A lot of people want to hang Mel for comments his father made. Well, my grandfather is one of the most racist people I’ve ever known. Growing up, I didn’t hear him ever refer to African-Americans in terms that weren’t pejorative. I feel the same way about my grandfather as Mel does about his father, though. I may not agree with a lot his beliefs, but I also know he has shown great kindness and love to me, the same as Mel’s father did to him. I don’t blame him for not wanting to condemn his father publicly. I wouldn’t want to condemn my grandfather either. Is the movie anti-Semitic? I don’t know. I haven’t seen it. But I can say that I think the charge is ridiculous. I can’t imagine that the movie would assert that every Jew alive at the time was responsible for the death of Christ. That’s ridiculous and narrow-minded. It is much more complicated than that. Who is responsible for Christ’s death? Every person alive who has ever committed a sin, that’s who.

I am a Christian. Some folks think that also automatically means I’m close-minded, anti-Semitic, bigoted, and a whole host of other things I can’t think of off the top of my head. I am none of those things. I don’t have a Bible on my lap, but I know each person must work out his/her salvation, meaning to me that we are all given the information we need to decide what we believe. It is ours to accept or reject. I am not comfortable with proselytizing. My old Baptist church was quite evangelical, and I was made to feel like if I didn’t go out and share the gospel with everyone I knew, then I didn’t really love God all that much or appreciate his sacrifice. I know now that isn’t true.

I don’t talk about religion a lot. It’s divisive. I have friends who are of many different religions and no religion at all, and I want them to stay my friends. I have not criticized their beliefs, nor (I’ve noticed) have they directly criticized mine. I decided a long time ago that people who hit you over the head with their beliefs and make you feel flawed because yours aren’t quite the same don’t really influence anyone so much as make them angry or uncomfortable. One of the most abrasive and annoyingly “right” people I ever knew was constantly sharing the Word. Too bad he didn’t practice it beyond sharing it.

I know if I didn’t have my faith to lean on, there are times I wouldn’t have made it through. Some good things have happened to me that I attribute to prayer and God’s movement in my life. Others may say it was coincidence. I can’t prove otherwise. I only have my faith, and to some faith is not proof enough.

My faith has been tested. The last few years have been hard for me. Right now there are things I’m scared or worried about. Having OCD, it has always been hard for me not to worry. I used to beat myself up about it. I know now I can’t control it. I can’t imagine how bad it might have been if I didn’t have God to lean on.

I’m blogging instead of eating lunch. I’m a little hungry, but I came here to try to put something in words. I’m finding that I can’t really say exactly what I feel. I can’t find the words. Maybe because it was said better elsewhere.


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Job Hunting

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I am officially not going to be in my current job next year, so I am searching for a high school job. I don’t think I ever want to teach middle school again. Those kids are just too squirrely.

I hate being unsure about the future though. I want to know I have a job. But I keep telling myself life’s too short to do something you hate, and all that, so… I guess I need to take my own advice.

I am feeling under the weather, but it may be the late hours I’m keeping. My husband sang for opening night of Eugene Onegin last night, and it was late, late, late when we all got home.

Maggie continues to request trips to the “libary,” which pleases me greatly, but last night we couldn’t go. We ate too late, and the library was closing by the time we got close to it. Stupid O’Charley’s. Service is usually good there. Well, last night, I waited for my change for 10 solid minutes with two screaming babies and an ADD ten-year-old.

You all wish me luck in this job search. If you believe in a higher power, I’d appreciate your prayers, too. I am the main breadwinner in my family, and I have three children living with me, two step-children who also need support, and a husband who has to have good medical insurance to cover prescription costs. That last bit sounded old. (In a shaky grandma voice) Well, we have to have our medicine.

See you all later.


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Goodbye, Midnight Bayou

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My first BookCrossing book will be released tonight. I went ahead and released it online, as I may not have a chance to discuss its release again until tomorrow. So even though it says it’s at the mall, waiting near the A&W and Chik-Fil-A, it won’t be there until tonight. Here’s hoping that Midnight Bayou, by Nora Roberts finds the next reader happy and leads them back to chronicle their encounter with the book (and pass it on!)

In other book news, my Maggie, who will be three next month, asked me last night if we could go to the “libary.” How about that? We’ll probably stop by tonight after we hit the mall to release my book and eat.

I am hoping the students will find today’s lesson interesting. We are looking at Ethics in Journalism: court cases, rights to privacy, censorship, slanting the news, etc.

Last night when we got home, Dylan wanted to play. He’s so cute, it was almost irresistible, but as I was dead tired… Well he tried, tugging at my hair for about two hours with mixed results. In the end, we shut off all sources of light, after which he must have slept, because my hair was left alone.

You know, there really aren’t words to describe exactly how cute my son is. He’s incredibly, heartbreakingly beautiful.


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Goodbye, Midnight Bayou

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My first BookCrossing book will be released tonight. I went ahead and released it online, as I may not have a chance to discuss its release again until tomorrow. So even though it says it’s at the mall, waiting near the A&W and Chik-Fil-A, it won’t be there until tonight. Here’s hoping that Midnight Bayou, by Nora Roberts finds the next reader happy and leads them back to chronicle their encounter with the book (and pass it on!)

In other book news, my Maggie, who will be three next month, asked me last night if we could go to the “libary.” How about that? We’ll probably stop by tonight after we hit the mall to release my book and eat.

I am hoping the students will find today’s lesson interesting. We are looking at Ethics in Journalism: court cases, rights to privacy, censorship, slanting the news, etc.

Last night when we got home, Dylan wanted to play. He’s so cute, it was almost irresistible, but as I was dead tired… Well he tried, tugging at my hair for about two hours with mixed results. In the end, we shut off all sources of light, after which he must have slept, because my hair was left alone.

You know, there really aren’t words to describe exactly how cute my son is. He’s incredibly, heartbreakingly beautiful.


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The Blue Screen of Death

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My husband was on the computer Saturday night when the Internet pages decided to stop loading. He got the blue screen of death. Then he rebooted, and we got the following error message: “File missing or corrupted: win.com. Cannot load Windows.” Or something like that. Well, it’s fixable, but not immediately, as we have to have that file. I found some things online that I think might help me repair it. Barring that, I can haul the thing down to my parents’ house and have either my dad or my ex-husband (whose advice I’ve already sought) take a look at it.

I must get it fixed, else the computer withdrawals will be unbearable. Oh sure, I can use my work computer or go to the library. I don’t ever really look at anything their filter programs would block. But weekends with no blogs or e-mail. Oh, the horror.

I am releasing my first BookCrossing book tomorrow. I forgot it at home, or I’d do it today. I plan to let it go at the Gwinnett Place Mall in Duluth, Georgia. I hope the person who finds it a) enjoys it, and b) bothers to check out BookCrossing online and find out what the whole deal is about.

I found myself on BookCrossing today looking for people I know. But people only post pictures of their cats and use pseudonyms. So who knows if I know them?

Scouring the paper online today, I don’t find this amusing. And why does Georgia feel it necessary to waste time voting on something that is already illegal here? I’ve not ever heard of a gay couple making a legal marriage here. But no, let’s get on the bandwagon and tell those queers how immoral they are. That makes me ill. Bunch of hypocrites. The adultery measure is a joke. My tax dollars at work. Sigh.


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