Ahhhhh....summer.

So yes. I haven't been writing lately. Bad. I know. I actually had to re-read some of my last posts to remember where I left off. Very bad.

It was so nice to leave that last day. So. Nice. It had been so rushed up until then. I felt as if I had been going going going (think Energizer Bunny) since the standardized testing mid March. The end is always a garbled mess of report cards, retention meetings, IEP's and so on. Then Sr. Callejo threw in a two day (Friday and Saturday -- days I don't usually work and was planning on using them for cleaning the house and packing for my epic trip east) training that I was not at all excited about and was not being compensated for.

Then I left and had a fantastic time visiting family and friends in a trip that was all too short. Graduation was fantastic, I'm so proud of my brother and I can't wait to see what the talented man does next. I met up with one of my favorite people from high school and the Boy bonded with her little boy (SO CUTE!) and I spent time on the Cape with my family and my Dad's fantastic fishing boat. (Pictures perhaps to follow!)

When I came back I began doing some work for Moonlight Consulting that has been taking up a lot of time and when I'm done with that I just sort of want to knit and breathe and watch mindless TV mostly via Wii Netflix; Friday Night Lights, Weeds, Big Love, Real Housewives of New Jersey and so on and so forth. (Love that Wii Nexflix...totally awesome...I'm sure we won't be using Netflix mail for very much longer.)

Then, sometime in the near future, the boy, the Chaca Dawg and I leave for an epic road journey that's going to take us visiting family through Wyoming and Montana (Yellowstone Baby!) and I absolutely can't wait for that.

So over the next few days I have a lot of things to catch up on! Keep an eye out!

CENSUS 2010!

I love the Census! It's perhaps one of my favorite things about this country. There is something so thoroughly satisfying about counting all the people in the country and the idea that the number could change peoples lives for the better.

It only happens every ten years, so much like the Olympics (yes...I know the games occur more often) there's hype and excitement about it. At least there is for me. And probably the people that work for the census. But no one else seems very excited. Everyone I've spoken to seems to say, "eh."

I think about the "Mr. Willis of Ohio" episode in West Wing where the democrats are considering using sampling data instead of a direct count. They wanted to do this because it would cost way less and according to research, give the government a better count. They argue that the standard way the census is done is unfair to many different minority populations (illegals, (whom while they are illegal still need to be counted) the homeless and all minority populations) in the country. The republicans say that the constitution requires a head by head number count.

It's an interesting argument. I think that how we get the number is far less important than getting people the right number of representatives in the government, the right amount of monies for the SCHOOLS and all the other social programs that depend on how many people live in a certain area. I believe the founding fathers would agree with me.

And after learning that only about half of the people of the state of New Mexico were counted properly last time around (re: illegals, the homeless and the various different minority populations) and that the one of the more serious reprocussions has been the over crowding of our schools, I was even more excited.

So how are people not excited about this?

I wanted to be the person that filled out the census for my family ten years ago when I was sixteen, but because it's supposed to be the "head of household" my father filled it out. I was excited this time and made The Boy promise that I could be the one that filled it out. (I was "Head of Household!" Sadly, the form didn't say that specifically.)

It was a disappointment. Sort of like the time I saw Maya Angelou speak and it dawned on me that she was a racist. (True story.) Or when I voted for Obama but voted nay on the wrong state constitutional amendment and had to go through the crazy process of getting a second ballot and walking out wondering if my vote was now even going to be counted in this historical election because my name was on the roll in two places. (Ok, obviously, I never quite got over that experience.)

So we got a letter a week ago from the census bureau. I was so excited, ready to fill it out, only to open it and find a letter saying that we would soon be getting our form. When we finally got it, it was in a small envelope. So I filled it out and set it out to mail. We picked up our friends' mail while they were gone for spring break and they got a big envelope! I was so curious how our forms were different that I asked him to open it up right then when he came to pick up his mail. His form was in English and SPANISH!!! Now, why didn't we get a form in both languages? After all, this is the only state in the union that recognizes both English and Spanish as official languages.

I can only surmise that they saw the (very nice) location and fanciness of our house and assumed we spoke English. Our friends live in a part of town where the neighborhoods aren't as nice and there are more small rentals than houses. The Boy suggested that perhaps the people that lived here before spoke English and they had that information on file. I guess that would be ok, though still not kosher according to our state constitution except that all the houses that were here before were torn down to make way for the fewer and nice houses that are here now.

I also think there should be more questions. There's so much more the government could learn from such an official form. After all, it does say on the envelope that our response is required by law. (How would you be prosecuted for that after all?) After all the time and effort the bureau put into the census I gotta say, I'm not impressed.

I came home to this flower from The Boy!


Oh and that's my favorite wine.

PS. I lined the children up the same way I did yesterday and didn't get any parental complaints. Whohooo!

Bad Interaction with a Parent

I honestly meant to write while I was on Spring Break. Really. I promise that was the intention. I just didn't do it. I did pretty much nothing, which was fantastic. There were lots of things I meant to do (grading, catch up on second drafts of lesson plans, fix the play that the fourth graders are working on) but mostly I sat around and knitted on a blanket I've been trying to finish for awhile after taking it apart and starting over.

There are lots of things that I need to catch the blog world up on. But for now, since I have 15 minutes before walking up to meet The Boy with the dog, I'll write up the most recent.

Over the past year it has come to my attention that the most dangerous and scary part of my day is when the kids are let out after school. Some kids are headed for after school program in the cafeteria, but don't want to go because their friends are waiting for their parents. Other kids peel across the school driveway at break neck speed for their parents' cars that don't follow the one way rule of the school parking lot. Those that are left begin swinging on the gazebo and throwing rocks. We don't use buses, so though we are a small school of about 120, that's 120 children running EVERYWHERE. Enough to put even the sanest of teachers into a pretty serious panic.

At the beginning of the year, I made a suggestion that all teachers walk their students out and line them up along the sort-of-basketball-court and as parents drive by children can get in to cars in a safe and organized fashion. This idea was not looked on favorably. Why? Who knows?
Goodness forbid we all do a little extra work at the end of the day in order to keep the children safe. (Though I gotta say our kindergarten teacher does a great job of keeping her kids corralled and accounted for.)

For the most part, I can keep track of whatever class I'm in charge of during the afternoon (3rd or 4th) during dismissal and speak to the parents I need to speak to. The last few weeks have proven difficult and the weather has improved and children have begun using dismissal as recess in earnest. The gazebo is between the "field" (read: rectangle covered with dirt, rocks, used heroine needles and broken glass) and the driveway. This makes it difficult for me to speak to the parents I need to speak too and keep Juanito from throwing rocks at Paulito.

Having had enough of that I decided that I would line up my students anyway. That way I could at least keep a good eye on the students that I am most responsible for. I started this afternoon. Once we got outside, I sent the students that go to after school program to after school program inside the cafeteria. I sent off the students whose parents were already parked and I lined up the rest.

Matt, a fourth grader has been having a lot of trouble following directions and getting his work done lately. He's labeled as gifted and in many ways he is ahead of the game. Today, however seemed to be particularly difficult for him as he refused to do work for Ms. Jenson this morning or for me this afternoon. And so after a few reminders, I caught myself almost begging him to do work. At this point I sent him to Ms. Hernandez so he could do his work in there. Later Mr. Dido took him for the last half an hour of the day as part of his gifted services. He came out a few minutes after the rest of my class with Mr. Dido. I sent him to after school program. He didn't want to go. (Well, he hadn't followed any other direction today, what would make that simple one any different?)

Gilbert is another of my fourth grade students. His father was waiting for him and so he was one of the students I sent off straight away. After Matt refused to follow the direction of going to after school program, Gilbert came up to him and asked for his phone number. I stopped the conversation and sent Gilbert back to his car, after explaining that Matt had a direction to follow and that this wasn't the best time to be asking anyway. I repeated my direction to Matt and he slouched off to cafeteria after shooting me his best sneer.

A minute later, Gilbert's father came strutting up to me. The following was our conversation while he was keeping cars from continuing through the correct one way:

Him: What was that with Gilbert and Matt?
Me: I'm sorry?
Him: (Angry voice) All Gilbert wanted was Matt's phone number.
Me: (Very respectfully) I understand, it's just been difficult lately to keep all the kids safe after school and since you were already here I sent Gilbert back to you.
Him: (Even angrier voice) IT'S AFTER SCHOOL!
Me: You're right! Well done, that's why you're picking your son up after all! Yes, sir.
Him: (Even angrier voice) You always seem to be annoyed about something! (Then he turned his back and walked away.)
Me: (To his back) I'm sorry you feel that way, Sir.

(I can't remember if it was annoyed or another word exactly, but it was something like that.)

Now, if I had been allowed to continue the conversation in a civilized way, I would have suggested that he and Gilbert walk into the cafeteria together to talk to Matt, or that he could, but I wasn't.

Now, Gilbert also has bouts of not following directions and fooling around in class. I talk to his parents about this. I also mention positive things during these conversations. So in no way am I always annoyed when speaking to him.

I felt a little guilty after this interaction, so I walked myself into the cafeteria and asked Matt for his phone number. He couldn't remember it! He gave me nine numbers and then when I said that couldn't be right, he gave me five. I went outside to pass on this information to find that they had already left.

I was surprised by this interaction because this is one of the families I know the best. I was their daughter Loo Loo's teacher when she was in fourth grade. I tutored her on my own time and was not compensated by them. (The school got a grant from the city.) I drove Gilbert and Loo Loo home a few times this year while their father was in the hospital, so their mother could stay with him or run some errands. (They are right on the way to my house.) And earlier this year Gilbert broke his glasses and on my own time (they even called me over Christmas Break) I helped them get glasses for cheap over the internet.

Now, I did those things as a pay-it-forward-sort-of-thing. My good deed for the day or whatever. But after all this I was hurt to be treated this way by this father. Thankfully, I kept my voice down and was respectful. (Mum taught me well and Sophia taught me how to stand up for myself in front of parents.)

The cool thing was that I was one of the first classes out for dismissal this afternoon. Other teacher saw what I was doing and copied it! So we had grades 1 - 6 lined up on the-sort-of-basketball-court.

Worst Cooks in America

Every night for the past few weeks, The Boy and I have been watching Alton Brown on the Food Network. (This was not my choice as he sort of creeps me out, but I usually hog the T.V. for background noise in the early evening and so I don't begrudge it...too much ;) He's sort of growing on me though. I'm becoming better at ignoring his uppity way of explaining things and I've stopped rolling my eyes (for the most part) when The Boy goes, "Yup!" (as in; he already knew that) and "Ohhhhh!" (as in, he didn't know that yet.)

But what I'm really enjoying are the commercials for "Worst Cooks in America." I would win this show. Hands down.

As I'm not much of a foodie, I never really learned the craft of cooking. My parents both cooked, though very differently. When my mum cooked, I wanted to be the one that had to clean up. This was because when she cooked, she made yummy food AND cleaned as she went. I always wanted my brother to have the nights my dad cooked, because he made awesome food and usually left quite a mess. This is really my way of explaining that I wasn't in the kitchen much while the food was being made. I just never had the desire to learn...and so I never did.

When I moved out on my own, I was very happy to eat the same thing most of the time. I don't remember what I ate for those first few months I lived on my own and so I guess it really didn't matter much. I was good at Annie's Mac and Cheese, omelets, cereal, ice cream (which other people don't count as a meal, but I sure do) and steak. I do remember that I didn't really have to clean the oven in my first apartment when I moved out, because I could count the number of times it had been used on one hand.

It was at this point that I thought about learning to cook other things, not really because I wanted to, but more because I just thought I should. I tried to learn from my dad, but when I asked him how me made something or how much of a particular ingredient he added, he would just shrug his shoulders and say "Enough." For someone who needs all the details and lots of practice before she goes all freestyle, this was very frustrating and I sort of gave up.

My first Thanksgiving on my own is a great example of how little I knew about cooking by the age of 23. I was here in La Pasa and didn't really know anyone except my close girlfriend from Bennington, who left town for the holiday. I hadn't even met The Boy yet. I decided that it was silly to buy a turkey for myself and thought that a small chicken would do the trick. I can't remember if it was because I wasn't making much money, (I was an E.A. that year) because I didn't want to learn any more than one thing at once or because I just FORGOT to buy anything else but the chicken for dinner.

On Thanksgiving, I called home and got directions from my dad about how to clean my chicken, how long it should go in the oven for and at what temperature. The most frightening part of the process for me was definitely going to be deciding when it was done. This was how my dad described it; "Just wait until you can twist the drumstick just enough (there was that word again) and have the rest of the carcass (my dad likes that word, its used with love) stay still.

This description posed many problems for me. Because I had never cooked a chicken before, I had no idea what "just enough" felt like. What if I couldn't get the drumstick to twist? What if I let it cook too long and it got too twisty? What if I thought it twisty enough, got it out of the oven, cut it open and it wasn't done? What if because of all the times I've opened the oven to check to see if the drumstick was twisty, the oven lost too much heat and the chicken NEVER got twisty?

I followed my dad's instructions very carefully and got the chicken in the oven. It was the first time I used that oven. (Though to be fair, I had only moved into the apartment a month and a half before.) I sat down to wait. I can't remember the number of times I called home after checking to see if the drumstick was twisty and not being sure if there was the proper amount of twistyness. Over three hours after the drumstick was "supposed" to be twisty enough, I took the chicken out in defeat. I cut it open and discovered it was not cooked thoroughly. After this failure, my dad suggested buying an oven thermometer. I soon discovered the oven was about 70 degrees cooler than the temperature you asked it to be. That's the last time I cooked chicken.

A few months later, I ventured into the kitchen again. I have no idea where I came up with the idea for the recipe, but it was a very basic beef stir fry with rice. After working with the recipe six or seven times, I thought it was pretty good and would make it once or twice a week. It was soon after this that I met The Boy. I offered to cook for him for one of our first dates.

I spent a lot of time at the grocery store picking just the right beef and vegetables. I went to my favorite wine shop and picked out just the right bottle of doesn't-say-anything-about-tasting-oak-barrels-on-the-label red wine to go with it. The Boy came over and I made a big deal about being all up in the kitchen and getting everything together just so. I served the dinner, we sat down to eat and the dish had absolutely NO favor. I don't know what happened, but it just didn't taste like anything at all.

I wasn't mortified until the first time The Boy made dinner for me. It was perfection. A five course, wine matched bit of perfection. To this day he swears he loved that meal I made for him. It is however, hard to believe when I've been eating homemade stocks, home cured bacon, stuffed porkchops, fried pears in sugar, steak salads and chicken thigh, leeks and celery braised in champagne and served over home made polenta or something just as wonderful for the last two and a half years.

That is why I would win "Worst Cooks in America." Hands down.

Walmart

This is a picture of the Walmart in Roswell, New Mexico. My brother and I took a trip there before Thanksgiving. He's been an alien nerd since he was a kid and immediately saw the boon for him when I moved here, making me promise not to go there until he was able to get here and go with me. We were headed for the U.F.O. museum but I needed the bathroom and so we pulled in. We didn't see the alien theme of the Walmart until we had almost parked, it was pretty funny.

So, in 2002 of my favorite Bennington gals convinced to stop shopping at Walmart for a myriad of reasons that I won't go into here. I stopped cold turkey, deciding that I didn't mind spending what little money I had on less by shopping at other stores. Since then I can count on one hand the number of Walmarts I've been in walletless with family, friends and for the free bathroom since then.

The last time was with a friend as I was helping him get ready for a party. Before that it had been about three years. This was also to be my first Super Walmart experience. My students idolize the Super Walmart and I had heard all about the aisles of frozen dinners and pizzas and other foods that I could only imagine was full of all sort of chemicals that little bodies don't need. The thing is that food is cheap and the families that attend our school are certainly not rollin' in the dough. I was imagining there were three or four aisles. I was so wrong. There were seven long wide aisles. It was really gross.

And so you can imagine the surprised but icky feeling when I opened up a gift card from the Church that adopted our school for Christmas and Thanksgiving. It contained a 100.00 gift card to Walmart. It was an incredibly large gesture (and I was thankful for it) as each teacher received one. At first, I decided that I wasn't going to use it, but then The Boy reminded me that it would be a completely empty political statement because Walmart already had the money. Then I decided I would use on supplies for the classroom. What I ended up doing was spending it on prizes for the winners of the English Spelling Bee I put together last week. I also decided to make the The Boy go with me because a, it was his fault I was going anyway, b I like it when he drives and c, I needed someone to shoot horrified looks at as we walked from aisle to aisle.

And so we had to decide which one to go to. The closest one is also the most robbed Walmart in the West (or some scary statistic like that.) Hence, we chose the other one that's pretty close. As we walked in the first thing I noticed was the lighting. It was DIM inside. It felt like the power was out and the secondary lighting had kicked on. When we finally found the toys, The Boy pointed out an aisle just in front of the toy area. The shelves were full of candy and soda. From where we were standing, not even in the aisle yet, we could see over sixty packages of oreos. They were stacked three across from the top of shelf to the bottom, eight or nine shelves worth. Next to those were just as many packages of Kit Kat bars, then snickers, then soda and then more candy. The message was obvious and sick. No wonder we have a nationwide problem with childhood obesity.

We got some great classic board games as prizes for the top spellers and then those awesome animal capsules as prizes for all the kids that participated though. It was a relief to get back outside. This trip definitely solidified my belief that Walmart should not be shopped at.

Monsoon Season

So I mentioned in my last "Nature" post that it was monsoon season. In La Pasa, the storms tend to move in and out relatively quickly. What they bring and what they leave behind is just astounding. Every time there's a storm and I stand there while marveling at the sky, The Boy says something like, "Welcome to the West." He grew up here (well, north of here) and to him the pictures that the sky makes out here are sort of old hat. I can't over it. This is what happens when you grow up in a place where you rarely see a huge chunk of sky.

These pictures are so amazing. I had to share.

Spike Lee's shooting down the street!

Haha! Well at least Haha for all of you that get the "Rent" shoutout.

Seriously folks. La Pasa has become quite the Hollywood (it's even been dubbed "Tamalewood") since Governor Richardson began giving so many tax breaks to those who would like to shoot movies here. It gave a lot of New Mexicans jobs as well as the city and the state much needed revenue.

Today on the walk home from Kelly's (all of 200 feet away from our house.) The Boy and I saw a huge spotlight on the horizon, which in the Duke City could mean only one thing...something was shooting. So we decided to walk over and see how close we could get.

We ended up getting really close. We realized pretty quickly that it wasn't "Batman Begins," "In the Valley of Ellah," or "Terminator Salvation" because, well...we were able to walk right up. We asked a guy getting stuff out of a big truck what was shoot and it was "MacGruber" a spoof on "MacGuyver." I'll definitely have to fill my brother in on that!

Sundays

I love Sundays now. The Boy and I have sort of started this diet, where we count the calories that we eat. Sundays are the days we don't do it, because your body is supposed to have one day off a week so that it doesn't feel like it's hoarding food.

So. Today, we ate homemade oatmeal for breakfast, munchies for lunch, gellato as an afternoon snack and homemade french fries with cheese curds and gravy on top. Yum. Total yum.

And now to finish the reorganization. The last thing in my life that really needs organizing is my computer. After all the stuff was put back on after the loss of my hard drive, all the documents are out of order. It will be much easier to search for all my interesting lessons at school, if there is some sort of order.

Third Graders

Today I found out that third graders are really big second graders. And while this may have made perfect sense to everyone else, it was proven to me today. This group is so interesting. The only thing that makes it bearable is that I only have them for half of the day. (It's the fourth grade that makes me tick!) I think their behavior problems stem from the fact that the boys have always out numbered the girls by a large margin. These boys are rambunctious and have extra strong personalities. They make me laugh and want to scream at the same time. Their attention span is short, they like to horseplay and my "look" doesn't work on them. I'm trying to look forward to the challenge.

Good moment from today: I introduced the kids to their classroom library (which has grown quite a bit with the addition books that The Boy's Mum rescued from the Casper Library discard!) They were especially excited about the fact that I have "Where the Wild Things Are" in both Japanese and Spanish. When I gave the third graders some reading time on their own, Principe and Craig pulled down both copies. They sat next to each other and Craig said, "Hey, I can read Spanish, so we can translate!" The two spent the next fifteen minutes going phrase by phrase through both books. Hearing their made up Japanese was pretty funny, but they were so into it.

Moment that Mattered (there are times that I miss Bennington so bad, it's palpable) from today: I was putting the third graders into groups to do some math facts practice with flash cards. There are seventeen students, so one group would be of three. Principe started shouting that he needed to be in the group of three. I didn't really respond because I don't respond when children yell at me. So I started at the other end of the class, making groups and passing out cards. When I got to him, I put him with one of the five girls Camille. He was visably upset, but wandered off to work with her. That group was the best behaved and got the most done. Every time I looked over in their direction, they were working really well together. So, I gave him a "Walking Tall" slip (sort of like a referral because he did something great without being asked) and used it teaching moment for the whole class. He was so surprised and pleased and the kids were impressed. I'm going to kill these third graders with kind strictness. Let's see where it gets me.

I now have 11 kids in my fourth grade. So far, only one new student to the school, but he's sweet, quite and aims to please. The kid that I worry about is ____________. (I haven't come up with the best alias yet.) He's got some serious personal problems and has a lot of help from the Special Ed department, though no matter how many times I ask, I havn't had a meeting about him or been able to see his I.E.P. Which is really frustrating because I haven't worked with him in two years and no idea what I should expect from him as a student. He has a bad habit of wrestling with other kids and doesn't seem to know his strength, but because I haven't seen (or had explained to me) his behavorial plan, I don't know how to discipline him. Very frustrating.

First Day of School + New Car

First Day of School was great! I only had eight fourth graders, so my morning was awesome! I'm sure that number will go up as the public school gets going, we started a little early so our families may not know that first day was today.

My third graders are a different story. There's 16 of them (though at times it feels like 40) and only 2 girls in the group. These are the kids I had in Kindergarten and they were a tough crew even then. The whole coming full circle theme came to mind but when I asked one of them, Saul if he remembered having me as a Kinder teacher, his comeback was, "I've had you as a teacher before?!" So perhaps not so full circle at all.

It was really really good to see my sixth grade girls. I feel like I have a real bond with them, especially Fiona, Cassie and Lucia. All three were upset when they found out that I wasn't going to the be their teacher, since it was assumed that I would be at the end of last year. Hopefully, though I shall still see them everyday and be at least a part of their lives.

On top of first day of school, today was also First Day of Car Shopping in Earnest now that The Boy is home. I was also offered another job opportunity with Moonlight Consulting, one that pays big buck but is also so far away that it's an overnight. It's in the middle of September and I would much rather have a new car rather than depend on the not so dependable Harrison. We went back to the Subaru Dealership and The Boy got to test drive the same car that I drove and he liked it just as much as me, but still wants to drive other things. So poop. A few more days of driving around in the Hot Harrison (as there is no AC) and getting in and out of other HOT cars that have been sitting around in the sun all day.

Ho Hum

The Boy's bachelor party was last night and continues today, he spent the day playing golf and shooting guns with his college friends, two of whom will be married next year. Tonight is a fancy dinner with a cell phone moratorium (at least on calls from "the womanfolk" as we girlfriends have been termed) for the rest of the evening. I love it. I love that they have put so much thought in to the planning and flawless execution of this weekend. Like my best college girlfriends, they rarely get to see each other

Meanwhile, I have decided that today is a movie marathon with...myself! I got up later than usual and began with the three Shrek movies. After that I put in Bridget Jones, will watch the sequel after that and then begin the Pirates movies. I also gave myself a manicure; green nail polish with little pink dots.

Also must clean house.

I'm sick of children's books being turned into movies!

Alright. So as I mentioned yesterday, I went to see Ice Age 3 by myself in the movie theater today. It was lovely. Not as good as the first two, but nice. Didn't even drive my car. Took the bus, using my free bus pass because I'm going to the U.

I can't believe all the childrens' books that are being turned into movies these days. Really. In 1996, they turned "Matilda" into a movie and ruined it. Ruined it. I read that book over and over. It was fantastic. Roald Dahl is a fantastic writer. As a kid, it was always his books that made me use my imagination the most. The movie was terrible. They destroyed the script. Done. Finished.

They made a movie out of "Horton Hears a Who." When I found out, I couldn't believe it. )Now, they had already made one movie out of "How the Grinch Stole Christmas" and the one with Jim Carrey was a redo so that didn't upset me as much, though the first was much truer to the book.)
Horton, ruined. They messed with the story line, added characters and plot points. Really. How could they do that. My students haven't been interested in the book since the movie. Sad. Very sad.

"Where the Wild Things Are" is going to be a movie. I've seen some of the previews. I can't believe it. That's a classic. Should be untouchable by anyone but "Reading Rainbow." The previews that I've seen have totally added to the script. It's not the book. The Boy thinks that this movie is made more for adults than for children, but let's face it. Kids are going to see it and probably before they have read the book. The Boy says that the book teachs kids that sure you can escape everyonce in awhile but you always have to return to reality. That's not how I saw the story as a kid, I saw a kid who didn't want to listen to his parents and so was sent to his room. That was the beautiful thing about the book, you got to think whatever you wanted about the story. The movie (at least from what I can glean from the previews) doesn't give you that choice.

And for the last straw; "Partly Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs" is going to be a movie. Really people. I just saw a preview for it today. They have added gobbs to the story line. Turned it into a 3D extravaganza. It's one of the best childrens' books ever. Ever.

All I can say, I guess is that my children aren't going to be seeing any of these movies until they have read and loved the books. Period.

Over One Hundred Feet of Laminated Material

In preparation for the beginning of the school year, I went out and bought a new calendar and letters for above the chalkboard, stuff for a birthday and a helper bulletin board. I had all this stuff last year but during the move I lost a bunch of it. On Thursday, I took it all to the district's low cost laminating center and laminated over one hundred feet of materials. For my last birthday my mother sent me the flashcards that my brother and I used. The Christmas before last my parents bought me a great set of jumbo playing cards and I laminated those as well. I ended up with over one hundred feet of laminated material.

I also bought some new plastic tubs for all my books and other materials. I went though all of the stuff that has been stored in the garage for the summer. I went though, trashed stuff and reorganized what I decided to keep. Since The Boy was out of town and some of the tubs were too heavy for me to lift one of our very best friends helped me get them into my car and then Sr. Callejo helped me get them into my classroom. I was very excited to learn that I was going to get my old classroom from fourth grade last year! Yay! It's the best classroom! It's big, comfy, square, two magnetic dry erase boards that are kid height (because I made them rehang them last year) and it has an interior/exterior door! Now let's just hope I get to keep it all year long.

The Boy is out of town until August 9th and so I'm alone. And bored. Out of my mind. West Wing only takes you so far. (I have one and a half episodes left.) So tomorrow I have decided to take the bus downtown and catch Ice Age 3 before it leaves the theaters. Also a pedicure. I report to school on Monday and I'm ready.

Harrison Update

Oh Harrison. What a good car you were.

So, the last time I blogged about Harrison, we were hoping that there were only minor problems.

I was so very wrong. The timing belt indeed was broken and because of it, the water pump and the starter motor locked up. (I'm not sure of the exact order of events, but those are the three parts that were dead.)

So, before deciding on whether or not to spend the money to fix these problems, while thinking about the huge chunk of money we put into the front and back struts, brakes, calipers and air conditioning at the beginning of the summer, we had a few choices;

1. Put more money into the car (which would definitely deplete my savings and that of The Boy) and fix it so that we would be able to continue driving it, while wondering when the next part would go.

2. Put more money into the car (again with the depleting of the savings) and fix it so that we can put it on Craigslist for a bit (but we'll set a due date so it won't be on Craigslist forever!) and if it didn't sell, we'll trade it in for a NEW car.

After careful consideration and discussion with multiple family members from both sides (Thanks everyone!) we have decided that number 2 is the best option. It really came down the fact that I need to be able to fully depend on my car, especially for the out of state driving I do by myself. I really don't like the idea of ending up on the side of the road in the middle of the night trying to get to a workshop or home from one in the desert. Hands down, I think we made the right decision. It will definitly curb some of the things that I spend "fun" money on but I think it's the best thing to do. Harrison now fixed, will provide some high school or college kid will really enjoy him. He's a subaru and at 114,000 miles, he's got lots of time. We're just ready for something better.

And for the something better! I've promised The Boy that I will stay opened minded and consider different vehicles. The thing is I really love my subaru and the all wheel drive that it provides me. This car is going to have to last us a long time and therefore I think, will need the all weather driving that Harrison had, because we are both hoping to move some place much colder with more snow than here. Subaru is the only company that does that well across the board. Other things I will take into account; it must have four doors (for the kids that are lightyears away) and it must be a manual (because I like to be in control of my engine.) So, yes, I will look at and drive other cars and have seen models I like the look of from Mitzubishi, BMW, VW, Acura and Mazda but my heart is set on this baby!


A 2009 Subaru WRX sedan. It fulfills all of my most important critera. Best of all; it's a rally car! A racer! Everything I wanted when my bro taught me how to stunt drive in high school (you know, because there was nothing else to do in our rural mountain town.) It has a high performance engine (eeeeeee!) and great resale value. I'll be so cool. Fast and the Furious cool! (Though I maintain that I could take Paul Walker anyday!)

Soooo, by the end of August I'll have a new car!

Minnesota!

I just got back from a trip to Minnesota to surprise one of The Boy's best friends from college. He and his wife had a baby in January so we got meet her and boy is she a looker, totally cute.

His wife set up the surprise for his birthday and we were invited to fly up and spend the weekend camping and hanging with them and their new daughter. This was why I couldn't mention it until now...because my blog in on facebook and the person we were to surprise is my friend on facebook and so I didn't want to give away. It was really really great. We had such a nice time.

The Boy is staying because he and his friend that we surprised are going to a bachelors' party (yes, it's a party where there is more than one bachelor.) They have all sort of exciting things planned and it's really nice that they all get to be together, like me and my college friends, since they're out they see very little of each other. The boy will be back in two weeks. The night before school starts.

The alarm system is now connected to a security company. And so commences the two weeks of sleeping by myself.

Oh and cooking for myself, which should be really interesting.

Think Good Thoughts for Harrison!

Harrison, as in my car. Named after Harrison Ford, only the best actor ever.

Today, when The Boy tried to take it to the store (to buy a part needed to keep the air conditioner in the car running) it turned over and then made an awful sound. After much research and speaking to both The Boy's father and my father, we are left with two possible problems. 1. The timing belt broke and therefore the timing is off for all the mechanisms. Cost to fix: 250 - 350 dollars. 2. Catastrophic Failure meaning basically death for Harrison. Cost to fix: too much to think about.

So tomorrow, AAA is towing the car to our garage to have it checked. We will be following along on the motorcycle. All positive thoughts are appreciated!

On Meeting the Higher Ups

I love Johanna, the woman who owns and runs Moonlight consulting. I want to be exactly where she is when I'm her age. Did I tell you that she gave me a "Moonlight Consulting" mug at the beginning of term and pronounced me, "part of the team." (I'm drinking out of it right now!)

A few weeks ago she called me with a really neat request. She wanted me to accompany her to a meeting with some of the higher up in the state department of education to present all of the standards based materials we put together. I was so excited.

The day came and I wore a great outfit. The Boy got out of work in order to bring me to the rest stop where I was meeting Johanna and we drove up to Santa Fe together. On the way up, we talked about the presentation and I got to see the first hard copy of what I created a month ago and that its pretty damn cool (of course, there are already things about it I want to make better.)

This might be the time to explain that I have always sort of idolized the people that work for the NMPED in a West-Wing-Aaron-Sorkin-does-the-state-department-of-education sort of way. I imagine them working for teachers and students, putting their all into it...you know, like Josh Lyman, CJ Criag and Toby Zeigler do in the best TV show ever. I like to think, in the end not only do I work for my own students, fellow teachers, parents and my principal, but also for these people. These people that are also supposed to be working for me. I always thought that working for a state public education department would be fab, top of the line, the best I could do kind of job, the place where the changes really happen. Well. Maybe it still would be, but from what I saw that day, it wouldn't be for the state of New Mexico.

We got there in good time. Introduced ourselves to the staff assistent and waited outside the offices. The building itself was a letdown in and of itself. It's shabby and falling apart. The inside is prettier, but still...just sad that that particular department is in such disrepair. Johanna told me that she wasn't going to take the elevator because ten or so years before she had gotten stuck in it for over and hour.

We were led into the offices of these people and began our presentation. I have to say, I was really disappointed. New Mexico is pretty low on the list of states with schools performing at or above AYP (yearly adequate progress) and so I imagined these people ready to embrace anything that would help the kids improve. They were not enthusiatic at all. They don't even have a list of resources that schools can go to in order to find help in upping their chances of meeting AYP. Bascially, they are just sitting up there making lists of schools that are not making AYP, not turning in certain forms and not helping schools do either.

Now I don't expect them to get all excited about every idea that people come in with. I'll admit I'm a little biased about ours because it's...well...it's amazing. It can help students and teachers at every level, including bilingual, special ed, gifted, native and ELL populations. We even have data to back it up. We didn't even get a "Wow, that sounds like an interesting program" or "hmm...I wonder if so and so would be intersted in hearing more about this." We got bland expressions and finally they offered to send someone to one of the presentations to further gauge their interest, but that was only after we pestered them for any kind of response and it was more like, "well...I suppose we could do that."

We got back in the car and Johanna said that she hoped they didn't send the one of the woman we were talking to, to a presentation that she (Johanna) was giving. I said, "No way, send her to mine, she won't know what hit her." I meant it.

I was disappointed by the whole thing. This meeting taught me that I'm not wrong to want vouchers for the kids that are in low proforming schools.

A Moment When I Felt Like An Adult

I just had one of those moments when I felt like a real adult. It went like this:

I was inside cleaning the kitchen and The Boy came home from buying lumber. He's going to extend the fence on one side of the house because he thinks that's how the bad guys got in. It's at least 95 degrees out. I make him a big "thing" of gatorade and bring out to him.

Just like my Mum used to do when my Dad was cutting firewood, fixing cars, weed wacking and all the other things he did outside to make our lives better.

Keep it right here for before and after pictures!

Your House Gets Broken Into When You Move Out Of The Student Ghetto

On Monday I came home (like you do), put my bike in the garage and stopped at the keypad to turn off the alarm. It was flashing some numbers I didn't understand, I memorized them so that I could tell The Boy about it later. I came in and sat down at the kitchen table to check my email. That's when I looked up and saw that the French door was wide open.

I certainly didn't leave it open and that's when I realized that someone else entirely had because The Boy had left before me that morning.

That's when I realized that because the garage door is so loud that someone could still be in the house.

So I squatted. It's been pointed out to me by more than one person now that when I'm afraid, I have a tendency to squat. It's as if there is something in my brain telling me that if I squat no one will see me.

After a split second of squatting, I grabbed my phone and my keys and ran out the door. Once outside, I called The Boy who convinced me to call the police. I waited in our neighbors' driveway because I had visions of gunman running out with my antique sewing machine and computer and I didn't want to be in their way. The Boy came home shortly and we waited together. A very nice policeman showed up and we explained what was going on and my fear that someone might still in the house. He asked if there were any guns, other weapons or dogs in the house. We answered in the negative.

This policeman radioed for backup and we waited some more. Sirens blared and with that the other policeman showed up. The second man was more gruff and straight forward. After the first policeman explained they were going to go in to make sure no one was in the house, the second policeman said, "If we are going to declare an all clear, I'd like to get my long gun." The first man nodded and the second man went back to his car and came back with what looked like an AK-47. We watched them walk into our house with their guns out, just like in Law and Order (en espanol, Ley y Orden!) it was pretty scary.

Out on the sidewalk we could hear them yelling things like, "This is the police, if there is anyone in the house, make your presence known now," and other such things. We were relieved to see them walk out by themselves. The second policeman left and the first stayed to fill out the report and to make sure nothing was missing. There wasn't. Thank goodness. This is what the door looked like:

This is the footprint of the man (I'm assuming man, because it is so large) that kicked in the door:

Now, I'm not new to that particular sense of loss you feel when someone breaks into your house. My house was broken into back in MA when I was in high school. That was awful. It took months to feel like the house was home again. It was weird to imagine people that weren't supposed to be there in the house, going through and taking our stuff. It was sad to lose that.

It was different this time. I wasn't as scared, the audible alarm had scared them off and we still had all our stuff. We were only short one french door. This however meant that The Boy had to leave work and buy a new door and install it same day. (Thank goodness he's handy like that.) I had stay in the house while he went to buy one because the house was now not at all secure.

The Boy suggested that I set the alarm while I was inside while he was gone. We usually only set it while we are sleeping. So we set it and he left. That was when the scariest thing happened.

About an hour after he left, the alarm went off.

I squatted with my heart pounding. Repeating over and over to myself the statistic that The Boy talked about before he left that showed that it was really unlikely that they would come back, even less so on the same day.

Eventually, I got up. I called The Boy thinking that perhaps he had been trying to get in and something weird had happened with the alarm because we had never used it that way. He was in fact, not trying to get in. So I shut it off and listened. Nothing. That was the scariest. The Boy got home and discovered that it was just a window upstairs that hadn't been shut all the way. Thank goodness.

The Boy spent the next four and half hours making sure the door he bought was installed and could be locked properly. It doesn't match because it's not stained. It is also not permanent. The Boy did a great job and I'm totally impressed:

Tomorrow a contractor is coming to install a new door that should be stronger. We also set up a contract with a local alarm company made up of retired cops. They station their officers throughout the city and the part we live in usually has at least four. So this is good. We also got an awesome yard sign and stickers for the windows.

The new door and the alarm company makes me feel really good because The Boy won't be here for two weeks in the near future. I will only have to sleep here for one night alone before everything is set up with the alarm company.

Yum. FRENCH Wine!

My dislike of the setup of the cardio equipment at the gym as it relates to my fear of yoga in high school.

A few weeks ago, I promised some posts on a few things. One being the title of this blog.

First a little history. For two months a year in high school, one of our gym units was yoga. We would go to our locker rooms and the boys would go to theirs. No matter how fast we girls tried to change we could never get out of the locker room before the boys. Which meant they crowed the back of the area in front of the TV. (Yeah, we watched yoga on the TV, neither of our old men gym teachers could do yoga.) We girls would come out and be forced to be in front of them. The yoga video would start and the boys would half-ass their way through the video and snicker at our bodies while we half-assed our way through. Because multiple gym classes were happening in the gym at the same time and our class was watching a movie, the teacher didn't spend much time watching our class...which meant the boys had ample time for snickering and staring. Really frustrating. But the boys were smart...they were never obvious enough for us to tell the teachers what was going on.

The Boy and I have started going to the gym every other morning during the week. (After about a month of this, I lost four pounds, slowly gained them back and then lost four pounds again...buh?) This is our third attempt in a year to make a real routine of going to the gym and sticking to it. I think what's making it work this time is that we are going early in the morning, before work and school. That way we can't come home tired and decide we don't want to go. I used to run on the treadmill but my overweightness and the shinsplints I've had since I was a kid made the treadmill unbearable for doing anything harder than walking on an steep incline. I have moved to the ellipitcal machines and have found a routine I like.

The cardio area that we exercise in has three long aisles. Up against the huge pane glass windows sit the treadmills. (This is where The Boy works out and where I used to work out which is why I haven't disliked the set up until now.) On the wall just above the pane glass windows there are six big TVs tuned to different channels. The treadmills have their own TVs attached to the machines but they can also watch the big TVs. There is an aisle walkway and then there is a line of ellipitcal machines and stair machines. These don't have tvs attached to them, but there is a little converter you can plug you headphones into to hear what is going on the six big TVs. (I just listen to WAMC, my public radio station back in MA, and watch the subtitles on the tvs if I'm intersted in what's on the screen.) After another aisle there is a line of bike machines, the ones you sit back in, not the spinning bikes and a rowing machine.

The other morning, looking and feeling sweaty and gross after a half an hour on the ellipical, I stepped off being careful to keep my balance. (Getting off is like sking for a whole day and then trying to walk in your regular shoes.) Upon getting off I noticed two men on the bikes staring at me and the region just below my waist. Once I turned all the way around, their eyes settled on the upper middle part of my body. I felt like I was fourteen again in gym class.

After getting over the embarressment, I started to get steamed up. Why the hell are the bikes (where you sitting the lowest, closest to the ground) in the back?! If the bikes were up front, the people on them could see the big TVs even better because they sit further back. There are chairs with backs on them so no one could stare at their backside region. The ellipitcal machines can stay in the middle, they can still see the big TVs and can see out through the pane glass windows better because the bikes are lower and don't have tvs attached to the equipment. The treadmill line should be last because their view forward is a bit skewed by the TVs attached to their equipment and so would be less able to stare at other peoples' lower regions. They have the tallest machines and therefore would make more sense in the back anyway.

I would bet a large amount of money that a man put this set up together. Not necessarily because this particular set up makes it easy for men to stare at girls (that was probably subconsious) but because the set up makes absolutely no sense. After I explained to The Boy why I was so steamed all he could say was that if he was working out behind me, he would be staring at my lower region as well. He was not at all sympathetic to my cause, but he encouraged me to go talk to someone in charge if it really upset me.

Now I'm not much of a complainer, though I'm more likely to speak up now then when I was a freshman in high school, but I'm a little nervous they wouldn't take my complaint seriously and that they are going to think I'm some sort of crazy feminist. (I don't consider myself a feminist but that's a topic for another post.) The more I think about it, the more the set up is ridiculous.

Oh and Palin? I never liked you but still. WTF? I'm so confused.