Porta-Potty

Has anyone else noticed the Porta-Potty on Lake Shore Drive? (I actually had to look up that word to make sure I spelled it right.) It's on the median on Lake Shore just north of Chicago Avenue. I'm completely baffled... there's no crosswalk or anything there, and even if there was, who would stop and use the bathroom in the middle of a busy street? There is usually traffic in that spot; wouldn't that be weird to come out of the bathroom and have all these random people looking at you? It has to be a prank. I know they put up a bunch of porta-potties for Venetian Night; someone must have stolen one and put it on the median. Pretty funny. And it's been there at least a week. I wonder if anyone else has noticed...

The Perfect Weekend

It was the first weekend of the school year, and it was everything I wanted it to be.

One of my favorite friends was in town Friday night, so I went out with her and some other friends from high school. It was so great to see these girls! We just went out for dinner downtown and had great conversation. I really enjoyed myself.

Nina and I went whitewater rafting on Saturday. I think I have found a new hobby. At first I was kind of nervous, because it was just the two of us in the boat, and we are definitely city girls. We'd never done anything like it before. I was afraid we'd miss the spot where we get off and end up in the Illinois river. We kind of sucked at first. Okay, we really sucked at first. We hit every tree and rock we could possible hit. And there were these two guys in a canoe we kept seeing who must have thought we were crazy- they actually pulled over at one point to shout instructions at us when we went through rapids. But there was only one time when I thought we might die, and that was when we ran into the cliff. Nina had to get down on the floor of the boat to avoid being decapitated, and I was trying to push us away from the cliffs without letting go of my oar. All this time, Nina was screaming like something from a horror movie. I've never heard her scream like that before. So it was slightly terrifying, but definitely the highlight of the trip. We can't wait to go back in the spring when the river's not so high; the rapids will be even better then.

When I got home Saturday, I watched Da Bears. I can't wait for football season to officially start!

Today I ditched church. (I haven't been in like, 4 Sundays now, which I feel really bad about. It's just hard starting at a new church by yourself. It's hard to get to know people... you really have to be in the mood for awkward small talk. And they offer several small groups, but they're all on Monday nights, which is when my small group meets, and we Incubators have the best small group ever.) Anyway, I just did a whole lot of nothing this morning, which felt good. Then I went over to Nina's to lay out. She lives in a high rise with a sun deck. It's got amazing views and a nice breeze. I'm a little burned, but it was worth it.

Tonight I went for a walk because I have bad knees and Nina suggested that walking more would help. (See Nina, I do listen to you!) So I felt good about myself for getting a little exercise, but I walked to Coldstone, so I guess that kind of cancels out the exercise. Oh well.

Tomorrow it's back to work, but I'm not dreading it the way I was by the end of last year. See, this is why teachers really do need a summer break. Anyway, I don't care if it's only 8:45. I'm ready to get in my pj's and do a little reading before bed, maybe a little David Sedaris...

A good reason for a husband

As a single girl, I'm often thinking of reasons why it would be good to have a husband. One reason consistently comes to mind on those nights I've had too much to drink. I wake up in the middle of the night desperately wanting water, but I'm too sick to want to get up for it. I always think, "If I had a husband, he would get me a glass of water." I realize that in reality, this would probably not be the case. He would probably either be passed out beside me (because it's not likely that I'd be drinking alone), or just not willing to get up because it's my fault that I'm sick.

Another time when I think it would be nice to have a husband is when I hear a scary noise in my apartment at night. My apartment is on the second story of a house, but my door opens right onto the sidewalk, and then you go up the stairs in my apartment. So it isn't uncommon for me to hear a noise and think that someone is trying to break in. Sometimes I think it would be so nice to have someone go check for me. Or maybe I wouldn't even imagine those noises at all. But I guess being single is character building. I've become a braver girl; I get out of bed and go in search of intruders all by myself.

Last night I thought of another reason I would enjoy having a husband around. When I was really little, I was terrified of storms, especially at night. If it was a nighttime storm, I'd be throwing up. Obviously this got better with time, but my college roommates would tell you that I still had issues. No throwing up, but I would stay up watching the Weather Channel till the storm passed if it was at night. Well, I'm proud to say that I don't even need the Weather Channel anymore. At least, not like I used to. I'll get up and check it, but I don't watch it for extended periods of time. So this is progress, right? Unfortunately, I am still not completely over it. It stormed really badly last night, and I did the usual- hid under the covers and prayed for it to be over. Now, I'm not always this bad-only at night and when it's a loud storm. But I still came to the conclusion last night that if I had a husband, it might improve the situation. So I'm adding it to my list of reasons why it would be nice to have a husband.

I think it's interesting that all the times I wish for a husband are at night. I'll have to start thinking of good reasons to be married for daytime situations as well.

New Beginnings

Today was the first full day of school. It felt so good to be teaching again. It's just like with singing. I didn't do it for a while, but the singing I did this summer just felt so right. How do I describe it? It's like you're doing what you were made to do- there's nothing that feels better. You hit a certain note a certain way, and it's like you just want to sigh with contentment; you know, like when you finally get in bed after a really long day and you think there's nothing better than your Egyptian Cotton sheets and soft mattress. I realized today that teaching gives me the same feeling. I had a great summer. I loved sleeping in and doing whatever I wanted. I actually was not looking forward to school starting. But then, I stood there looking at my class, and they looked at me, and it just felt right. And I know I'm not the only one who feels this way about the things we love doing. I met the owner of the art gallery across the street, and she was saying that she feels the same way about theater. She did film for a while, and paints now, but theater is just good for her soul. I hope everyone knows what this feeling is like. I don't claim to be a particularly great singer or teacher, but it's what I love. Just to keep things interesting, here is a picture of my 6th grade teaching team- I love these women!


So anyway, I'm very happy with my class. I know that soon the honeymoon period will be over, but it looks like the biggest problem I'll have is talking (which is always the case), and there are a few girls who will probably give me attitude at some point. Luckily, my stubbornness (which is a definite character flaw when it comes to my personal life) is an asset to my being a teacher.

In addition to this new beginning, I also plan on taking up running. I have always hated running. Even when I was thin, I refused to run a whole mile. Now, I think I need to do it. I went to put on my professional clothes yesterday, and they're getting a little tight. Not cool, as my former student Michael would say. Not only do I not want to be fat, but I can't afford new clothes. If I gain much more weight, I'll have to start shopping for plus sizes. So that's it- I need to make a change. And I found this guide on how to do it, and apparently I only need to devote a half hour at a time for the first 30 times I do it (so like 2 months, because I just don't have time to do it every day). But I feel like I can commit myself to that much time. And if Sarah will be my workout buddy (seriously Sarah, I think it will only be like, 10 minutes out of my way to stop by your new condo on my way home from work), then I will be unstoppable. Because I am an interpersonal learner (I gave my students a multiple intelligence test today :)). I need to do things with other people, and I need someone to hold me accountable.

On a totally random side note, I can hear the fireworks from Navy Pier as I type this. Many of my friends know that fireworks are one of my favorite things in the whole world. So I think I want to be proposed to during fireworks.

Best Institute Day EVER

Instead of watching boring Powerpoints about test scores, we had a Challenge Day. I'm too tired to write much about it, but it was pretty awesome. I guess it was even on Oprah last year. She was skeptical at first, but then after participating, she said, "This is how you change the world." At first I thought it was going to be all stupid and touchy feely, and it reminded me of something from The Office. Well, it did end up being touchy feely (lots of hugging and crying), but not lame at all. We did a lot of great activities that helped us get to know each other better. I really wish these presenters could come in and do this for my class. It was just so much better than I thought today could be.

Pride and Prejudice

Definitely one of my new favorite movies. At first I was disappointed, because Colin Firth wasn't as hot as he usually is, but then you get to know Mr. Darcy, and you can't help falling for him. I *love* movies like this. How did it take me so long to watch this one? I felt like the 5 hours wasn't enough. I actually just went on the Blockbuster website and added Sense and Sensibility, Emma, and another version of Pride and Prejudice to my queue. I know I read the book back in 5th or 6th grade, but I had obviously forgotten it's awesomeness. It reminded me of Anne of Green Gables. I kind of wish things were still simple like they were in those movies. That men still treated you like a lady; the biggest drama was Josie Pye daring you to walk on the roof; for fun, you and your friends acted out The Lady of Shalott; and the thing that would make you happiest in the world would be a dress with puffed sleeves. Although, in Pride and Prejudice, some people were such jerks. I don't know how everyone managed to still be polite. I wish I was as cool as Elizabeth; she always made her opinion known without calling anyone crude names like I probably would have. Maybe I will name a daughter after Elizabeth. I've always said I want a daughter named Ella and a son named Ethan. I could keep going with the whole E thing and name another daughter Elizabeth.

2 quick things

Today I finally found out why the gangster tour always stops across the street from my apartment. The big building on the corner is a old brewery that Al Capone and his gang used to use to make liquor that would supply the speakeasies. How cool is that? Now I've just got to scout out a way to get inside, and figure out how to get in there without being arrested for trespassing.

Also, I was very disappointed by High School Musical 2 tonight. The story was kind of cute, but the music was completely awful. I really liked that Ryan had a bigger role, but I felt like Ashley Tisdale was really overacting. Although maybe that wasn't her fault; the role was pretty ridiculous. Anyway, I'm still a huge fan of the first one, but I was not impressed with the second one.

Assassins

So I've basically been in front of my computer all day, doing homework, working on lesson plans, and getting ready for the first day of school. Experts say that you're supposed to do lots of ice breakers and team-building activities with your students so everyone is comfortable with each other and respects each other. And I thought of the perfect game to achieve this in my classroom: Assassins.

We played Assassins senior year at Concordia in my dorm. Everyone was given the name of a person they had to kill. You killed the person by sticking a post-it note on them. When you killed them, they gave you the name of the person they were after, and you were then responsible for killing that person. This goes on and on till there's only one person left.

This game was awesome and hilarious. The only place that was off-limits was the bathroom, I think. I remember hearing about someone getting killed during Dr. Eschelbach's Greek class. It got all crazy with secret alliances and plots and stuff. I remember I had to kill this guy who was super paranoid. I managed to track him down at KCC. I was at Powderpuff practice (I don't remember why we were practicing inside), and he was getting a snack. I walked over all casually and totally surprised him. I got him, but he tried to take off running, claiming that the post-it didn't stick, so it wasn't valid. I got pretty upset... there might have been some inappropriate language used at that time. But he finally gave up. I seem to remember that I killed at least one more person, but I don't remember the circumstances. I don't remember the circumstances of my own death, either.

But I think this would be the perfect getting to know you/team building activity for my class. First of all, it helps you get to know people. I had never met the first guy I had to kill, but all of a sudden I was completely stalking him. Second of all, you totally bond with other people. After the first round or so, when people start to die, everyone starts ganging up on certain people and hatching elaborate plots. So it also encourages creativity.

Unfortunately, I don't think this game would be considered appropriate for school. I'm going to have to do some creative thinking about how I can make this work.

Another tattoo

Sarah, I'm glad to know I'm not the only one who is indecisive.

In a few weeks, our dear friend Rachel will be back in town for her birthday. Me, Nina, Rachel, Sarah, (aka Tripod and Tabletop) and Stephanie will be getting tattoos together. Nina, Rachel, and Steph already know exactly what they want. Sarah wants several tattoos and just can't decide which one she wants the most. I, on the other hand, have no clue what to get.

I already have one on the small of my back. It says "Measure your life in love" in a circle. I got it a year ago and I still love it. But I don't know what else I want now. One idea is the Lutheran symbol. Each part of it represents a part of the Lutheran faith. The meaning of the black cross in the middle is obvious, I hope. Luther says: "The first should be a black cross in a heart, which retains its natural color, so that I myself would be reminded that faith in the Crucified saves us. For one who believes from the heart will be justified" (Rom. 10:10). Although it is indeed a black cross, which mortifies and which should also cause pain, it leaves the heart in its natural color. It does not corrupt nature, that is, it does not kill but keeps alive. 'The just shall live by faith' (Rom. 1:17) but by faith in the crucified." The heart is in the middle of a white rose because faith gives joy, comfort, and peace, better than anything the world can give. The rose is in the middle of a sky-blue field, symbolizing the hope we have for a future in heaven with God. The gold band around it all symbolizes an eternity of blessedness.

So I like this symbol a lot. I have a necklace with this symbol that I used to wear often. But do I really want a tattoo of it? It would be nice to have something that represents my faith. But where would I put it? I don't want to have lots of visible tattoos. And I don't want a color tattoo either, I don't think.

Another idea would be my "life verse." I know a girl who has "Philippians 4:13" tattooed on her foot. My verse would be Galatians 5:6- "The only thing that counts is faith expressing itself through love." But again, where would I put that? And do I really want more words? Shouldn't I get a picture this time?

I saw a waitress at Tweet (amazing brunch place, by the way) who had a word tattooed a couple inches above her wrist on her inner arm. I think it said "fierce," but I'm not sure. I was too hungover to pay close attention that morning. I really like the idea though, but what word would I get? And that would be visible, so I'd have to wear long sleeves to cover it up.

Nina says I should get a treble clef on my upper back. This was always my plan in high school and college. But I don't even really sing that much anymore (although I'm hoping to change that soon). But it would be a pretty tattoo.

My other thought was getting a small tattoo of the ring I pretty much never take off. It's a heart that is cracked down the middle and bound back together. I really love the symbolism. But I still don't know where I'd put that one. And do I really want to look at a picture of that all the time?

Maybe I should just get a pretty flower or something.

Loving Your Enemies

Ok, so this is really difficult. I never really had an enemy until last year, when Marilyn, the mentor coordinator, decided she was out to get me. Most of my friends know the story, and I don’t feel like typing the whole thing. But basically, she decided she didn’t like me, and she is not a good enemy to have. She is the former Union President, and is tight with the administration and the school board. No one actually likes her (because she is seriously evil), but we think she must have blackmail on someone because she does whatever she wants. So last year she did her best to get me in trouble with my principal and the superintendent, and lied about me to the school board. She also claimed that she was too busy to have my last required meeting, so now I will have to be in the mentoring program for another two years because I didn’t complete the requirements. On top of all this, I heard that she said all kinds of mean things behind my back about like, my weight. It was a difficult year. I made myself physically ill with stress at points. I had my first panic attack, and she contributed to it. But I just kept telling myself that I just had to make it through the year, because she was retiring at the end of the year. Even though the thought of two more years in the mentoring program is extremely discouraging and makes me feel like a loser, I figured it would be okay as long as she is gone.

I should have known it was too good to be true. My principal kind of mentioned to me at the end of last year that even though I’d been rehired for this year, I couldn’t count on anything for the next year. She said that people like Marilyn don’t just disappear, and that even if she gave me great evaluations, Marilyn’s lies could cost me my job. Well, my principal was right so far- Marilyn will be back this year. No mentor coordinator has been hired yet, but she will be serving as a consultant for that person. The current union president told me that it will be more than just that; she’s working with the administration and has some kind of agenda. Apparently they’re letting her do what she wants because in return, she will help them with contract negotiations next year. This is her area of expertise- she negotiated our last contract and it is awesome. So if she is on the other side this time, we’re in trouble.

Anyway, the point is that as soon as I heard she would still be around, I felt instantly sick. I’m just not used to someone actively disliking me, trying to ruin my career. I thought I had made peace with the situation. Last year, when the problems started, my mom reminded me to pray for her, and it really helped me. Instead of anger, I started to feel sorry for her. How sad to be retiring and not realize that people can’t wait to get rid of you. Everyone pretends to be her friend, but no one likes her, they’re just afraid of her. She thinks one of the other 6th grade teachers is one of her closest friends, but even that teacher doesn’t like her; she just a nice Christian lady who is kind to everyone. So my prayers on her behalf were genuine; I honestly felt sad for her and prayed that God would work in her life to change her attitude. Obviously, she must be a very unhappy person. I also prayed for the strength to forgive her, which I honestly did. I didn’t realize it till I saw her at Charity’s wedding. I approached her, said hello, complimented her outfit choice, asked about her summer, and realized I was not just being fake-nice. I honestly felt no animosity toward her at that point. God is so good! It amazes me that He was able to turn around all my anger.

But now, just when I thought everything would be okay, it looks like I’m going to have to deal with all this again. Hopefully, what I learned last year will help me get through this year. I remember reading a psalm about dealing with your enemies, and it talked about being blameless. I realized that I need to make sure I'm blameless; I need to make sure I do everything the way I'm supposed to, and God will take care of the rest. I'm just so unhappy with this situation. All I want to do is teach; I hate that politics get in the way.

On a brighter note, I asked Charity if she’d be willing to meet with me once a week after school and pray for our students. When I remember to do this, I feel such a difference in my classroom. I think it will help to be more intentional about this. Charity likes the idea, and we might invite a few other teachers, too.

Today on Eric and Kathy, they listed the top 5 names of girls who are most likely to put out on the first date:
1. Nikki/Nicole
2. ERIN
3. Kristy
4. Jenny
5. Lindsay

And then 2 girls named Erin called in and agreed with the results... Not cool, not cool. Also, not true, not true. :)

Adventures in Babysitting

Yesterday started out just like every other Friday this summer. I babysit for adorable 4-year-old twins. I got to their house early, then drove them downtown for Chinese school from 9-12 in their parents' minivan. (They are adopted from China.) After I dropped them off, I headed back to my apartment for a nap. As I was driving down Halsted, this white minivan just drove right in front of me. She was on Hubbard, trying to cross Halsted. I didn't have a stop light or stop sign or anything; she just thought she had enough time to make it across. She didn't. I hit the side of her van. We pulled over, and her van wasn't damaged at all, but the front of my van was all scratched and the license plate was messed up. So we called the police and were told that they wouldn't come unless someone was injured; if we wanted to file a police report, we had to go to the station. The women gave me directions, and I said I would follow them. Looking back, I was soooooo stupid! How could I not even think to get all their information right away? I was just so shaken up. It could have been a really BAD accident if I had been going faster. So I'm sure it's obvious where this story is going- the women drove all crazy and lost me, and then didn't show up at the police station. The twins' mom still wanted me to file a police report, so I had to deal with this cop who thought I was a complete idiot since I only had half the license plate number, and he told me right away that he wasn't going to be nice to me. It was a very unpleasant experience. Luckily, the twins' parents weren't upset with me. They were just glad everyone was okay.

I picked up the girls from China school and we headed up to the far northwest side where they live. I decided to treat us all to Noodles for lunch. We had a very nice lunch, but when we got back to the car, Maren asked where her blanket was. "It's right here," I replied, handing her a pink blanket. "No, that's Phoebe's!" she said. And that's when I realized her precious blanket had been left at China school. Phoebe had handed me two blankets as we were leaving, but apparently she had brought both of them, and Maren had brought one, too. And of course, when I called the school, they said they didn't have any classes for the rest of the day, but the girls could come get it the next day. This was NOT a good situation. These girls are very attached to their blankets. Phoebe offered to share one of hers with Maren, with kept Maren quiet for a while. But when their mom got home, Maren started crying for her blanket again. So I'm glad I'm not at that house this weekend.

After lunch, we went to this really cool water playground I'd heard about. I was so determined to still have a fun day. But as soon as we got there, I realized we'd forgotten sunscreen. So we had to leave, find a Walgreens, and go back. The girls finally got to play, and they were having a great time. But then Phoebe closed her eyes to run through one of the fountains and ran right into Maren. Her nose started gushing blood everywhere. It was pretty traumatic. But Phoebe is brave, so about 10 minutes later she decided she wanted to go back and play with Maren. Not even 5 minutes later, Phoebe slipped and fell again. And I said, "We're done."

We went home and watched Between the Lions till their mom got home. I was too scared to do anything else. I am babysitting three full days this week. I really hope I don't have three more days like that.

Why My Grandma Is Awesome

She is 87 years old and reading Harry Potter. Last week I was visiting her and I told her how much I loved the last book. She said that after watching all the news reports about it, she couldn't help but wonder what made the books so great. I immediately went home and ordered her a copy of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone. It came today, and she was so pleased! She was already 20-something pages into it when she called me. I told her I would reread it so we could discuss it together. I also told her that reading Harry Potter officially makes her the coolest grandma in the whole world.

I really hope she gets involved with the books. She lives alone, and she can't get out much because she is too stubborn to be seen in public in her wheelchair. This will give her something to do and something to think about.

Oh, and my grandma is also awesome because she loves the Cubs so much. I watched a game with her last week, and she knew so much about it. One of her favorite stories to tell is when my grandpa said to her, "This is the best day of my life. The Cubs won the pennant, and I'm engaged to you!" I really love that being a Cubs fan is in my family history.

I could go on and on about the awesomeness of my grandma... she is definitely a "kindred spirit!" (We are both Anne of Green Gables fans as well.)

Mr. Bowman

I just found out that my favorite teacher, Mr. Bowman, died of a heart attack in June. I had the privilege of having Mr. Bowman for three years in high school- Freshman and Senior Honor’s English, and Sophomore Yearbook. Class with Mr. Bowman was always exciting and somewhat unpredictable. I know that some of my friends did not like him, but I don’t want to discuss Mr. Bowman’s faults here. No teacher is perfect, and now that I am a teacher, I hope that my students can be forgiving of my sometimes irritable moods.

Mr. Bowman was the kind of teacher who wanted to teach you about life as well as literature. He was so wise. When I found out I was pregnant towards the end of senior year, I was so scared. I knew I needed to talk to a “grown-up” about all the decisions I need to make: Should I get married? How am I going to go to college? How am I going to tell my parents, who raised me in a Christian home and thought I was the perfect daughter? Mr. Bowman was the grown-up I chose to talk to. He was so incredibly supportive and encouraging. I don’t remember exactly what advice he gave me, and I think that’s because he just listened and helped me see what my options were. His support meant so much to me that we kept in touch after graduation. We went out for breakfast several times, and then lost touch.

The longer I teach, the more I see Mr. Bowman in my teaching. I wish I could have told him what a huge influence he had on me. I’d like to share some of my favorite Mr. Bowman memories here:

Freshman year, we were supposed to read A Tale of Two Cities. Mr. Bowman had never read it before. He promised us at the beginning of the year that we would never read anything that had no value. Several chapters into A Tale of Two Cities, Mr. Bowman announced that he could see no value in that book. We were allowed to read any book we wanted and do a book report on it. I now make the same promise to my students.

The first week of school freshman year, Mr. Bowman warned us about all the things to look out for, like people trying to sell us elevator passes. He told us that the sophomores were the ones we needed to look out for.

If we were talking when we shouldn’t be, Mr. Bowman would say, “I hear voices, and I’m not Joan of Arc.”

When the teachers were given photo id’s to wear, Mr. Bowman wore his on his butt.

If a narc came to class and asked to see one of us, we would play Spartacus- everyone in the class would stand up, pretending to be that person.

Mr. Bowman believed strongly in cultural literacy. He took us to the Art Institute even though it had nothing to do with whatever we were reading.

We spent FOREVER reading Wuthering Heights because Mr. Bowman claimed that any essay question on the AP test could be answered using that book. Of course, when it came time to take the test, I froze, and the only book I could think of that related to the question was The Secret Garden, which I was currently reading.

Mr. Bowman said that if a friend asks you for a favor, you should always say yes without hesitation. A true friend won’t say, “It depends,” or wait to hear the favor before they commit to it.

If you contributed something meaningful to class discussion, Mr. Bowman had the best prizes- pencil sharpeners in the shape of noses, crime scene tape, etc.

Mr. Bowman LOVED Shakespeare. He had a bust of Shakespeare that he used to dress in different hats.

We read Kafka’s The Metamorphosis senior year. It became a huge class debate whether or not the guy had actually turned into a bug. If we thought he was a bug, we got plastic bugs. The opposing view got stickers of some sort. Our names were all written on the board under our opinion. If at any time we changed our mind, we could go up to the board and move our name.

Mr. Bowman never made us ask to go to the washroom because he thought it was demeaning. We just brought him the pass and he signed it.

Mr. Bowman’s class was “best practice” teaching. We wrote almost every day and had one-on-one conferences with him. There was always classical music playing softly.

My favorite assignment was when we got to bring in books that were meaningful to us and do show-and-tell. I brought in Less Than Zero, a book about someone struggling with drug addiction. Mr. Bowman was okay with this.

Mr. Bowman loved Mr. Bean.

Okay, this is ridiculously long and I need to stop now. I just kept remembering more and more awesome things about him. Even though he could be tough at times (he actually kicked me out of class once!), Mr. Bowman was the best teacher I’ve ever had. I learned so much about writing, literature, and life from him. I’m so thankful that he was a part of my life.