Like the Rain I Keep Falling For You

It's my last night in Renton. Of all the nights, the last one is the worst because it means goodbyes and transition. I know that tomorrow morning I'll wake up, make a mad dash for my airplane and two hours later I'll be back in Utah and this trip will take an instant backseat as I play with my friends and celebrate the new year.

I'll forget how much I hated the rain and the three hours of "sunlight" and how crazy my mother made me. I'll forget how hard it was to say goodbye and the smell of pine trees. I'll forget. Because my memory is bad. And I'm fickle.

But right now I'm just sad. Because I love it here and I can't imagine going back to dust and cold. I've started thinking seriously about moving back up here, settling down, start making some investments and growing up.

But tomorrow I'll forget.

Home Sick

I'm sick. And I'm at home. And the combination is killing me. I had nightmares last night about how my mom used to behave when I was sick as a kid. And when I woke up, the nightmare just continued on where I left off.

I'll Be Home For Christmas

Wednesday night, as it was coming time for everybody to go to bed my mom looked at me and said, "Where are earth are you going to sleep?!"
"Gee, mom. I dunno. I thought that maybe you would have planned on that since I've had the tickets since September."
"Well, I suppose I can clear off the top bunk... but I was using it for storage."
"Sorry for the inconvenience."
"I guess it's alright."
I heard a few clumps as she hurled some stuff off the top bunk into a heap on the floor and then a shout, "Ready!"

Great... I crawled between the pet hair infested old blankets (there were about twelve and muddled up, two sleeping bags, one rolled and one flat, two body pillows and four other pillows) and fell asleep.

The next morning the phone rang. My mom shouted her hellos, even Wayne turned over in the bed below. "What? Who is this? Shelby? She's sleeping! I was told not to wake her up! Okay! Bye!" I heard the whole thing. Obviously. And although I was very excited to see my Shelby I rolled over and tried to go back to sleep. But in two seconds my mom's face was peering over the bunk, "Emily! Emily! Shelby called and she wants to play with you! But don't worry. I told her that she couldn't talk to you yet because you wanted to sleep. So instead of waking you up, I told her you'd call her back. See how well I listen? But I wanted to tell you before I forgot."
"Ya... thanks mom. I would have hated it if you had woken me up..."
"No problem!"

Last night, I crawled into the same bed and found a battery (that I had most certainly slept on top of the night before) and a black stocking with white dog paws printed on it filled with doggie treats and toys that I had mistakenly used as a lumpy pillow the night before. As I was getting ready this morning my mom burst through the bathroom door (knocking is a lost luxury) and announced that we weren't doing stockings this year. "Really? I found one in my bed last night."
"Hey! That's for the dogs! What did you do with it?"
"Don't worry... I just put it at the foot of the bed and went to sleep. If I can sleep with all of their hair then I can sleep with their Christmas stocking."
"Okay. Just as long as you didn't throw it off. I had it all in there perfect..."

Why can't humans hibernate?

Quarter of a Century

Today I'm 25. A whole quarter of a century. Which
makes a girl think about things she's never thought
about before. Like what bark on a tree is made of.
And it makes a girl reminisce about what she was doing
when she was only a quarter of a quarter of a century
and how much I've grown.

For example, I am at least a half inch taller than I
was then. And now I like my chocolate with nuts (or
without... really, I've just grown less particular).
I'm not afraid of the haunted book in the Care Bears
Movie (well... not as much) and I can walk to my bed
in the dark without running and crying in fear
(usually). I don't watch the same Disney movie over
and over anymore (since now I own many Disney movies
and watch them on a longer rotation.) And I'm no
longer afraid of my family (probably because I moved a
thousand miles away).

Besides those few exceptions, I'm pretty much the same
girl that eats ice cream for dinner, likes to play
dress-up and has to have a hoodie or blanket to cover
my face if the movie has anything scary in it like
glaring or uncoordinated outfits.

A quarter of a quarter of a century or a quarter of a
century... I'm "Just Em!"

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Christmas Miracle

My principle came into my office today, handed me an envelope and made me initial a list he had.
"Do you know about the (insert random term here)?"
"No."
"Oh. Well... ask somebody about it. Enjoy."
And he left.

I opened the envelope and inside was a US Bank gift card with a large sum of money (by my perspective). I thought maybe it was money for my classroom so I pushed it to the edge of my desk and made a mental note to ask my mentor about it later.

After school, I talked to my lead coordinator. She said the money was mine. Something about getting bonuses for attending workshops and it being government money yadda yadda yadda. I don't know. I couldn't make it out. All that matters is that now I have money where a few hours ago I had none. And I can buy Christmas presents when just a few hours ago I was contemplating if I had enough money for construction paper and glue. Hurray!

A Christmas Miracle.

At Last

Yesterday I ate pumpkin pie.

You have no idea what a big deal this was. I have been craving pumpkin pie since Thanksgiving when it came to that point in the meal when we were supposed to eat it (it was on the shopping list!) and instead got a chocolate frosted brownie. I love chocolate brownies. But it was Thanksgiving. I needed pumpkin pie. Duh.

So I dragged Jay and Lisa from grocery store to grocery store, from restaurant to restaurant trying to find anybody that was open and had some pie. But nobody was open. Because it was Thanksgiving.

The next day I tried again. Surely, there would be plenty of discounted pumpkin pie the day after Thanksgiving. But there wasn't. Not one. So I bought pumpkin pie ice cream. And thought it would satisfy the lust. But it didn't. (Although it was very good.)

Obviously something had to be done. So, on Monday I went to Macey's and bought a small pumpkin pie and some whipped topping (a necessary companion) and brought it home. I planned on eating a large piece that night. But I was hungry and realized that my stomach so far contained only 2 Diet Pepsis and a Handi-Snack that I had found at the bottom of my backpack around 10am. I needed food.

I went to Taco Bell and waited through 5 songs (almost 20 minutes) for a pimply high-schooler to throw 5 ingredients together that would be my "real food dinner." By the time I got it, my stomach had actually turned inside out and had started eating my kidneys and liver so I had to scarf the food down as quickly as possible in order to save my other internal organs.

So I was full. Too full for pie.

TOO FULL FOR PIE!!

I had to wait...

The next day (yesterday in case the time lapse was hard to follow) I ran home during my lunch break, ate a few tortilla chips and then went in for the kill. I ate a large piece of the small pie with a large gallop of whipped topping. And it was good. Very good.

At last.

PRAXIS

Tomorrow morning at 8am (I think) I'll be taking a one or two (maybe
three?) hour test comprising of written and multiple choice questions
(I'm pretty sure) that will determine whether or not I will be a
licensed teacher for the coming school year.

If I don't pass, then the last year and a half will have been for
nought. And I'll just be out the over $15,000.

And yet, I'm not worried. I haven't even begun to study. Mostly
because I'm lazy and have lost the will to go on. Partly because my
professors keep saying it's no big deal.

I should probably at least make sure I know when the test starts...
that would be good.

It's So Extreme!

I have Dance Dance Revolution Extreme, two dance pads and a drive to
win! My memory card got corrupted somehow and I lost all of the
scores, characters and new songs I had gained over the last summer.
So, last Friday I bought a new memory card and started dancing my
heart out! I have put in about eleven hours of dance time on that
thing since then. I only have one character left.

This weekend... it's mine!

Dream Weaver

I had a dream last night that I went to the doctor and she told me that I had a fatal disease and only had a week and a half to live. Ten days.

When I woke up, I realized that I go home soon. In ten days.

Think there's a correlation?

BS Royalty

Class was boring. We had to look at test results and then as a group classify (or give reasons for not classifying) a hypothetical student with a special education classification. I got voted as the "speaker" for our group because they said I said, "Uh... it depends..." in the most intelligent manner.

The teacher said she was impressed.

I sat down and starting reading blogs. Some were pretty funny and sometimes I chorkled out loud. Obviously not paying attention. There were six more groups to sit through... all the same... "Uh... it depends..."

I heard the teacher say, "Uh... what's her name?" Was she talking about me? I looked up. "Emily," they said. "Oh, Emily... what do you think about this?"

I had no idea what they were talking about. "Uh... well... let's see... well... like I said before, the numbers displayed here are all well and good and sure, they give us a good idea of what the child's cognitive ability is and a general idea of the knowledge they've acquired so far... but it's hard to say if the child has an actual learning disability based on these numbers alone. I mean, is it really a communication disorder or is it because the child is Spanish speaking and new to the country? Can this individual child benefit from special services or would it actually have negative effects taking him out of a general education classroom where he'll be exposed to a wider variety of opportunities to expand his vocabulary? It all comes down to knowing the child, observing him in class, asking his parents how he does at home and looking at his classroom work and behavior. Every child is different." (a.k.a "It depends...")

"Wow! You obviously has a lot of background knowledge in this sort of situation."

"Sure."

I turned to my neighbor, "Is that what we were talking about?"

"Yes. I didn't think you were paying attention."

"I wasn't."

Obviously, reading was too distracting. So I played some internet games that I could still kind of listen to what was being talked about in class. But not really. Because soon the room fell silent again and all eyes were on me again.

"My turn to talk again?"

The teacher nodded.

I said, "Uh... It depends..." using some other terms I pulled out of nowhere.

The teacher said "Wow!" again. My classmates applauded. They actually applauded my BS answer!

I am the Queen of BS!!

Finally It Has Happened To Me

I like Diet Coke.

I went to Costco for dinner. Only Coke products. I decided to try the Diet Coke just one more time. And...

I liked it.

That's all.

Not a classic anecdote.

Happy Halloween!

I was a pizza today. And then the Spirit of Christmas.

I watched all of the kids at the school parade around and I taught... nothing.

I talked to Heather and went to a party.

And played Speed Scrabble with the Freestones.

I found out that Leah's coming for a visit THIS weekend!

I ate a delicious breakfast sandwich from Gandolfo's.

And got a really nice compliment from my professor.

Good day. Good day.

How was your Halloween?

Mountain Time

I made the trip back from Seattle in twelve hours. I was cookin'. I was exhausted and smelly so I took a shower and then crawled into bed.

It was a rough night. It took me a while to fall asleep and it was a tossy and turny kind of night. When my alarm clock went off at 7am I didn't know where I was. Was I in Seattle? Where's Shelby and Preston? Was I in Utah? Is this my bed?

When I finally caught a hold of reality I jumped up and started getting ready for the day. I was replying to an email when I looked up at the right hand corner of my iBook and it said 8:30. 8:30? What's wrong with my computer? I looked at the wall. 8:30. 8:30!!

And then it dawned on me. I use my cell phone for my alarm clock. I turned my cell phone over to Pacific Time while I was in Seattle. And then forgot to change it back to Mountain Time!

I was wearing my work pants and my pajama top. No make-up. Hair in a ratty pony tail. Didn't care. I grabbed my purse and ran for my car. I was supposed to be at work at 8. The kids come in at 8:30. When I got there, they were waiting for me in my mentor teacher's room. I went in and picked them up and brought them to my class.

"Where were you? I've never had a TEACHER late before!"

Shut up.

No Market for Kids

My grandma used to talk about me to her friends in front of me. Always good things. She'd tell her friends about my good grades or something I did for her and then she'd pull my face up to hers by holding up my chin and say, "It's too bad there's no market for kids."

For years I had no idea what that meant. I was probably in middle school before I realized it was a compliment.

I spent the whole day with her today. I got there at 7am and left around 8pm. I comforted her before her tests and reassured her after. I helped feed her, spoke to her doctors and talked to her about old times.

She thanked me over and over for coming. She bragged to the nurses about how she must have done something right to have her grandchild come so far to see her. And I could suddenly hear an echo from years before, my grandmother lifting my chin, smiling into my eyes and saying, "Too bad there's no market for kids."

Yesterday

We went from a leaky breast implant, to a heart attack, to a spot on her liver. She suddenly can't remember where she is, what's going on and why she's wearing somebody else's flimsy robe.

And I just don't know what to do.

Back in Seattle Again

I'm in Seattle. Again.

I'm so tired...

Teaching Tragedies

You know what I love about my new job? Getting sick.
All the time.

Sick, sick, sick.

That's me.

I disninfected my whole classroom yesterday. Twice.

And yet... I'm sick again.

But at least I have a 4-day weekend this week.
Hurray!

Suckers...

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Bleeding from the Eyes

I went to the doctor today.

Because although my eyes look better, the redness is spreading. Ew.

But apparantly, I don't have Pink Eye.

No... instead tons of blood vessels decided to explode at once. This is due to stress.

Therefore, I am so stressed that I am bleeding from the eyes!

I am so messed up.

Dear Eyes,

Aaaggghhh!! Why are you blood red? You look like something out of a horror movie. I think. I don't really watch horror movies. But I don't because I'm scared I'll see eyes that look like the ones that now reside in my own head. Why? Why? Why?

Bite me,
Emily



Dear Anonymous Kid,

I don't know who you are or where you sleep. But I'll find out. And then not another day will go by that I won't be following you around with hand sanitizer.

Watch it,
Miss Hansen



Dear Bishop,

Thanks for letting me come over last night and looking at my nasty eyes. Also, thanks for letting me dip into your personal pharmacy in an effort to heal me.

You're my hero,
Em



Dear Kat,

I'm sorry that I gave you Pink Eye. Please accept my apology and this bar of chocolate.

Condolences,
Em

Dear Lady In My Class,

Bright pink lipstick does NOT go with everything. It just doesn't. Especially orange. Or green. Or purple. In fact, it doesn't go with anything a normal human being should wear. Please, please, just stop. You're hurting me. Also, if you inerrupt lecture to ask another question about Tier 2 and how that applied to each of your students in an individual basis one more time I'm going to snap.

Thanks so much,
The Pained

Posting

Wow, I think I can post from email... I'm a freaking genius.

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Little Bunny Foo Foo

Today I went to pick up one of my students from class
and on the way to my room she asked, "Do you like
bunnies?"
"Yes, I do."
"Well, I have a dead one... here... look!"
And in her hand was a little, gray and very dead
bunny. She smooshed it and petted it's little dead
head and hid it back in her sleeve. I heard an echo
of "pretty bird... pretty bird" in the back of my head
and I tried not to heave.
"How about you go sit in my office and I'll be right
back?"
"Okay."
I went over to our psych person and brought her in to
talk about the dead bunny, where she got it and how to
deal with it. They decided that the psych person
would throw it away and that the girl would have to
forego show and tell that day.

Ew.

I made the girl wash her hands. I washed my hands
(even though I never touched it) then disinfected the
table where it sat and my desk where she set it and
then washed my hands again. And again.

Mike

I like Mike. But he's kind of fat. Does anybody know how to help Mike lose a few pounds to make room for my profile?

Mickey D's

I got up really, really early this morning in order to attend a faculty meeting at 7:15 am. But when I got there, nobody else was. There was no meeting. And I didn't have to be back to work until 8am.

So I went to McDonalds to get breakfast.

I didn't want to because I only had my debit card and I refuse to go to McDonald's unless I have cash because McDonald's charges this ridiculous "50 cent transaction fee" that I just can't be okay with. Because nobody else does it. So why would McDonald's? I'm sure they're just pocketing the extra 50 cents for each card swipe and I'll have none of that!

But I was hungry. And it was really early. And I deserved a greasy, sausage and egg McMuffin with cheese.

So I went and winced as I handed over my debit card. But guess what?

No fee.

Free at last! Free at last!

The Cute One

I overheard two people talking about me in the faculty room...
"Who's Emily?" (looking at a list)
"Oh, Emily's the young, cute one with longer brown hair..."

I was called cute by a stranger. Wow.

Wow.

It's Come To This


The boyfriend pillow. Why? The pillow was invented and is now being sold in Japan. I'm worried. Really worried. What will the company logo be? A teardrop? And what will their pitch be? "Are you alone? Do you go to sleep every night by yourself? Will you probably always be alone? Sick of crying into your regular boring-shaped pillow? Well you can now dry your eyes and pretend your life's not worthless with "I Can't Believe It's Not A Man!" in local stores today!"


And now, the lap pillow! "I Can't Believe It's Not A Woman!"














Help me.

Come What May

Kat's right. It's the beginning of a new year. I have a new job. New classes. New insurance. A new ward. A new condo. And a new opportunity to begin again.

It's time to pick a direction, make some goals and go for it. I've never been one to make New Year's Resolutions but here goes nothin'...

1. I'll drink less of this and more of this or at least substitute it more frequently with this
2. Well... let's just work on that one for now... It's going to take a lot more out of me than you know...
3. Seriously.
4. And maybe I'll try to be nicer.

It could happen...

The Return of Crazy Katie

Remember Katie?

The girl I shared a bedroom with last year?

The girl that screamed through the night?

The girl that screamed through the day?

The girl that attempted suicide twice?

The girl that made me find it necessary to live out of my car, sleep on couches and mooch off of the Manwarings?

The girl that I still have nightmares about?

Remember her?

Well... she's BACK!

She's one of the assistant janitors at the school I'm teaching at this year. I saw her. We pointed at eachother. And then I walked away. She has a key to my classroom. Has anyone seen the sequel to "Scream?" Because I haven't yet. And I feel that watching it might help me prepare for the worst.

Dry Sockets

When I got my wisdom teeth pulled, they didn't heal right. Or at all, really. Which left something oral surgeons call "dry sockets". It's a not-so-fancy word for large gaping holes in your mouth that will be there forever and will hurt for a long time.

This week I've had dry sockets of another sort. I can't cry. I want to cry. I really, really want to cry. I believe I have every right to cry right now. I'm frustrated and sad and I feel guilty and alone. All things that when mixed together by verbal battery should create tears. But yet, nothing. Nada. Dry sockets.

And I don't even get prescription pain killers. Something is wrong with this picture.

On the plus side, I get to come home today. I'll see some of you suckers later!

NeoNerd

I hate to admit it but for the last year I've been leading a secret life. It was a year ago that I got my first run-in with kidney stones which left me stuck on my couch for several days. Julie called to check up on me and told me I should try doing what her kids do to pass the time. Play Neopets. She promised a land of lots of games. Always in search for new ways to procrastinate, I went ahead and created a Neopet and started playing games and earning points. It's been a year today that I signed on for the first time. I'm almost a millionaire in Neopia now. I'm a Neonerd. Do you still love me?

Practicum is over. Done. Complete. Fin.

And I feel overjoyed to the point that I found myself not being able to hold back the giggles as I drove myself home yesterday. And I can't wait to start teaching in a few weeks. You know what?

I think I'm happy.

Breaking Up Is Hard To Do

I've had a beautiful affair with the three-day weekend. And this makes breaking up even harder than usual. The weekend left me alone for hours at a time because the weekend understands that sometimes I just want to be alone. He just quietly sat back, letting me know he was there but didn't stay for hours talking or demand all of my time. Because the weekend understands me. He gets how important it is for me to go see a movie by myself sometimes. And he doesn't think it's strange. The weekend also knows that I need to play so he gave me two boys and the batting cages, five boys and Scera Pools and three boys and The Bad News Bears so I could run and jump and play and laugh. Oh, the weekend is so good to me. He took it particularly hard when I called him last night to say I couldn't see him tomorrow. I have to go to practicum. It's not him. It's me. I'm the one that can't help but put my responsibilities before our love. I wish I could give him my everything right now, but I can't. And even though I know we both shed a little tear when I woke up dutifully to my alarm clock this morning, I know he understands. And I know he'll wait for me until Friday and he'll bring a Coke and some chocolate. Because the weekend is my perfect man. Sigh.

I've Got Nothin'

Really. Nothing. Nothing at all.

It's only 9:30pm and I'm already ready for bed. I'm exhausted.

I'm turning into my grandma. Crazy, tired and blind.

I need some "happy soup."

And a Coke.

94

That what I got on my second (and last) observation today. Which means I'm pretty much done. All I have to do is show up and turn my day-to-day stuff and I should get an A. Hurray! I'm the practicum princess!

I Heart NY

I'm moving to New York. I mean, I have to stay in Provo for at least another year to finish up school. And I don't have enough money to move to New York. And I wouldn't even know how. But I got so bored and frustrated while doing my homework yesterday that I started searching for jobs over there. And applied for some.

Availability date: 06/2006.

99

That's how many points out of 100 I got today on my first of two formal evaluations for my practicum. The professor that used to not like me heard about what was happening and came in to observe. She gave me lots of compliments. I think we're friends now. Because I'm a genius!!

No Reason To Be Alarmed

A few minutes ago a woke up with a start. I reached for my cell phone to see what time it was. But it wasn't in its usual spot. My hand moved around more desperately searching for it. No luck. My eyes widened with alarm. This means I didn't plug my phone in its charger which means I didn't set my alarm which means I'M LATE! I overslept! I sit up and start looking around. My phone is on the other side of my computer. But I don't look at it, already out of bed running to the bathroom to get ready for work. I look at the clock on the wall. It reads 6:30am. 6:30? I'm okay. I have time for a shower. I go back in my bedroom and pick up my cell phone again. Does it say 6:30 too? It does. But it reveals some more important information. It has a little "Sunday 7/10" in front of it. What does it mean??

It means I'm stupid.

I'm going back to bed.

Salesman, Softball and Son

Today I went to Copeland Sports to buy a softball. I ended up picking out a new softball, a bat bag and a pair of baseball socks with yellow stripes. I went back downstairs to the checkout counter. The kid at the counter had his back to the line, was sitting on a stool with his feet up on the counter, talking on the phone. He was wearing a "Punk Rock" T-shirt and had spikey black hair and torn jeans. I listened for a second as he gave his friend the play by play of the night before...
"Ya... so... we like left the party and got into Mark's crappy car and started heading over to this other crappy party and I was like dude, the party's gonna blow..."
He heard me set my stuff on the counter and turned around with a face that read, "Crap! My mom caught me smoking pot!" A deer caught in headlights.
"Uh... dude? I gotta go! Hold on! Okay? Just hold on!"
He put down his cell on the counter and looked at me. "Uh... sorry!! I'm sorry! I wasn't on the phone! I was uh... just... sorry!"
"It's okay. It's not a big deal."
"Sorry!"
"Really, it's fine. I used to do it at work all the time. No biggie."
"Really? Phew! Wow. That was close."
He started ringing me up. He looks up at me and says, "You got a son that plays softball?"
Stunned silence. Maybe he noticed that the socks were size small and assumed it was for a kid...
"No... I just have small feet."
"What?"
Confused silence.
"No... I play softball."
"Oh, cool... I mean, girls that play sports are cool."
"Uh huh..."
He gave me back my debit card and I quickly walked away in a panic. What was it that made him think I had a son old enough to be playing softball? Am I dressed like an old lady? Do I have a mom voice? WHAT???

I still haven't recovered. At least he didn't call me ma'am.

Cruel Awakening

I just want to apologize to my downstairs neighbor (Kat) who most likely was startled awake at 5:30 this morning with a very loud crash and thought, "Sheesh! Did she just fall out of bed?!"

Yes. Yes, I did.

KAFEEN

Somewhere in Provo there is a truck with a license plate that reads KAFEEN. It made me giggle and it made my car take an unplanned turn into the Taco Bell parking lot where I bought a large Mountain Dew.

Butafuco

Never attempt to say the word "orangey" even if you think it might be a cute nickname for a little orange water toy. Especially if you have an obvious speech impediment.

A Good Day

I got my first 4.0 ever. A- free. A real 4.0.

And Liz had her baby. He's quite handsome.

I don't have to go to New York with my mom.

I'm doing well in practicum since I've given up sleeping.

I got to talk to Heather and Sandy and Julie yesterday. All people I love.

I ate ten little reese's peanut butter cups and chocolate milk for breakfast.

My "crash" apartment has air conditioning, DDR and a my laptop. All I need.

I get to play in the softball game today where I can show off my ability to iron on letters when I wear my new self-made jersey.

Last Call

So my baby brother graduated from High School. He graduated from the Wasthington State School for the Deaf. This is three hours from my parents' home. His graduation ended Thursday night around 8:30. Washington decided to show me exactly what not to miss about my homestate when it decided to dump sheets of rain, starting right before the ceremony started and getting worse and worse as the evening wore on. The car ride back to Seattle was horrible. My sister, an anxious individual, driving her new car drove past an accident on the highway and couldn't see three feet in front of her car. This validated her decision to drive 40mph. Quite frankly, I was okay with this. The rain was pretty bad. But the other drivers didn't think so and we almost got in several accidents ourselves when they had to swerve around our practically still vehicle. We got home at 12:30am.

Then my parents got there with the graduate himself who I hadn't seen for more than a half hour during my whole trip. So we talked until 1:30am. Apparantly I'm allergic to dogs and since dog hair covers everything in my parents' house from the potato salad to my pillow, I didn't have a very restful sleep.

My dad woke me up at 4:20am. We left at 4:45 and I walked through the airport doors at 5:05. It took me exactly 6 minutes to check in with Delta airlines and check my bag. I was on my way. Plane loads in 19 minutes, departing in 49. No problem. But then I ran into the security check.

There were six security gates with two scanners each leading to four terminals. One gate was open creating an excrutiatingly long line that brought flashbacks of previous visits to WalMart. (Tangent: Why on earth did they build 40 check-out lines at WalMart when even during the Christmas rush they refuse to open more than 5? Why?) When I had finally made my way near the front of the line (it was well past loading time) they decided to open up another security gate or two. I threw my bags in the little gray bin and walked through the metal detector. BEEP!
"Go back through please. Do you have any metal on you?"
"No. I really don't have anything!"
"Maybe your shoes."
"They're plastic!" I put my shoes on the belt and walked through again. Nothing.
"See?? Sometimes there are metal supports in shoes. That's why we tell you to take off your shoes!"
"Nobody told me to take off my shoes! Besides I thought we were supposed to take off our shoes because that one guy hid..."
"LAST CALL FOR FLIGHT 1181 TO SALT LAKE CITY!"
"Oh, crap!!" If I miss this flight I miss my mandatory meeting completely which means I'll have no idea what to do with my students on Monday which means my grade goes down a letter.
I dropped my argument with the security guard and ran to the belt, grabbed my bags and quickly slipped on my shoes. My plane was in terminal A. The farthest terminal away. I began to run. I don't mean "airport walk." I mean hundred-yard dash RUN! I ran past terminal D on that moving sidewalk thing, past terminal C, through terminal B and into terminal A. A-1, A-2... I was supposed to be at A-18!!
"WE'RE NOW CLOSING THE GATE FOR FLIGHT 1181 TO SALT LAKE CITY!"
"NO!!!! Wait!!!" I ran! People stopped to stare at the little white girl bolting through the airport. I wasn't wearing make-up. My hair wasn't brushed. My eyes were puffy with allergies and lack of sleep. I hadn't eaten or had anything to drink. This paired with running for a half mile made for quite the line-up for vertigo blackout. "Wait!!"
They waited. "Welcome aboard, Miss Hansen."
Gasp for air. "Thanks."

Final Exam

Do you ever finish your final way before everybody else does? And so you get worried that you did something wrong? And then look over your test two or three times to see if you could figure out what you did wrong? But can't find anything? So you just sit there pretending you're deep in thought waiting for somebody, anybody to get up before you and turn in their exam?

Ya, me either.

Human Again

I have reclaimed my weekends by quitting Kara's. Elementary school got out and I have regained my mornings. These two giant life-altering events have well... altered my life.

I now do my homework during the day. I get a full night's sleep. I'm getting caught up on a year's worth of backed errands. I know people. I play. I'm kicking trash in school again. And today... I finally convinced the teacher that hates me that I'm smart. The shocked look of a lost battle that crossed her face will forever be a treasured token in my heart.

I feel like I can do anything! And I will... muahahahaha!!

In a Nutshell

On Saturday I passed another kidney stone. And I went to SL to see the Lunsfords who were in town to drop Sarah off at the MTC. I grew up with Sarah. Her mom, Suzy, was the creator of a great miracle which I like to call "The Miracle of the Needed Clothes." You see, Suzy bought me clothes that I can wear to my practicum which has a strict dress code and starts mid-June. There is no way I would have afforded the wardrobe myself. Bless them for helping me! I stayed there that night and...

On Sunday we went to her aunt's ward. Then we went to the SL cemetary and went to all the graves of the prophets and Sister Hinckley. I stayed there as long as I could. They're good people with good food and friendly smiles. I stayed up late that night doing all the homework I should have done that weekend.

On Monday I went to work and worked very hard tying up loose ends before the end of the school year and trying to calm the students down. Then I went to class and met with my summer advisor who let us go early allowing me to get up to SL in time to eat dinner with the Lunsfords at The Roof at the Joseph Smith Memorial Building. The whole fam was there. Jeff, Suzy, Sarah, Kelli, Chris, Stacy, Benjamin, Karen, Mark, Janae, Kristin, John, Megan, and three people that Chris baptized while on his mission. Then I drove home late that night and worked on my homework for the following day until the wee hours of the morning.

Tuesday I went to work again. And worked hard. The kids were on crack and I looked like I was on crack too with bloodshot eyes accompanied with a staggared walk. Then I went to class, handed in my project and took a midterm. I wrote quickly and was able to leave early enough to make it to Aunt Karen's before dark. I helped Sarah pack. She was serious about this mission thing. I left around ten, got back to Provo alright and stayed up until the wee hours of the morning doing homework for the next day, and preparing a "Family Presentation" for my first graders.

I didn't sleep well so Wednesday morning was off to a shaky start. I finished up my project and ran to work. I stayed for three hours, then left to meet the Lunsfords at the MTC. I cried like a baby for a few hours as I watched my best friend say goodbye to her baby nephews and walk out the doors. Then I sped back to work where Kat, Liz and Lisa were waiting for me since they would be sitting is as my "Provo Family" for my presentation. I slapped on a smile, performed my monkey tricks for the kids, bragged about how talented and cool my friends are, handed out glow-in-the-dark bracelets and fed them chocolate cookies. I went to class handed in my project and taught my lesson to my group. I spent the evening watching American Idol and putting together thank you gifts for my co-workers since I'm grown quite attached to some of them after three years and because I will not be returning next year. Oh, and I did another project into the wee hours of the morning. (Are you seeing a pattern?) Then Heather called me and gave me a pep talk reminding me that I was okay, that I wasn't addicted to pain and that I really was happier doing this than not. Good point.

Thursday I woke up earlier than needed. I couldn't sleep anyway. I went to work, completed projects and passed out the thank you gifts. I took care of tiny Megan and tantruming Kaiden. Then I went to class and handed in my project. Then I got started on next week's shinanegans.

Friday was the last day of school. I got to work early to play with the children and take pictures. We stayed outside for the Dance Festival. The parents came to collect their children and I said my goodbyes to the children, their parents, Mrs. Ord, my friends in the front office, my co-workers/friends and Wasatch as a whole. Then I dashed off to Quiznos to pick up a sandwich for Liz and I and helped Liz move until late that night.

I slept eight full hours Friday night. It felt good. Really, really good.

Today I went to the bank because my bank card still wasn't here and it's been almost a month since I've ordered it. Then I went swimming and played powerball. Then I played softball. Then I went on a walk to get a Slurpee. Then I ran a few errands to buy aloe for my sunburned skin. Then I went to a farewell party. Then I ate dinner and watched a movie with Lisa as we nursed our burns. And now I'm going to bed. Because I'm tired.

Just a Reminder

One of my pet peeves is when somebody gives me a "reminder" when they never told me about it in the first place.

Oh, "remember" you're working tomorrow from 9-5.

Just a "Reminder!" There's a mandatory meeting on the 20th from 4-6pm.

Etc.

It's not a reminder if I was never told. It's a notice. Reminder implies there was a first notice. Which there wasn't.

Boring

I have nothing to say. No real complaints or funny anecdotes. No injuries or great news. Nothing. What does it mean? Does it mean I'm old? It does, doesn't it?! It means I'm old and boring! HELP!! I'm stuck in boring!

Rain

It's been raining. For days. And yet, I'm feeling kind of sunshiney. Maybe it's because I was born in Seattle and deep inside me is a great appreciation for rain because it makes me feel like a kid again or because I associate it with happy memories and the sound is relaxing to me.

Nah.

Or maybe it's because grades were posted yesterday and mine looked like this...

Winter Semester 2005
CPSE 430..... 002.. Tching Read/LA Dis................. 3.0... A-
CPSE 440..... 002.. C & I Sec Stds Dis................. 2.0... A-
CPSE 442..... 002.. Soc/Beh Strgs M/M.................. 3.0... A
CPSE 446R.... 002.. Prac Sec M/M....................... 1.0... A
IP&T 287. 004.. Inst Tech for EAC,ElEd, & SpEd. 2.0... A-
SEM HR ERN 11.0 HR GRD 11.0 GPA 3.81

...so I did the dance of joy and ran out to get ice cream with Lisa.

Or maybe it's because today Franklin Elementary sent a representative to Wasatch looking for me to offer me a job next year.

Or maybe it's because our little devil child that I've been working so hard with was a complete angel today and his mom sent me a thank you card saying how much she appreciates me since her son has been behaving better at home too.

Or maybe it's because I bought a new grown-up outfit tonight to wear when I'm a teacher.

Maybe. Just maybe.

Proud Parents of Baby Blogs

There are a lot of proud parents out there of baby blogs (some more neglectful than others). Let's celebrate. These are the birthdates of our blogs...

2002 - Year of the Horse
Kat – November 11, 2002

2003 - Year of the Sheep
Carolyn – January 9, 2003
Em – February 3, 2003
Heather – February 6, 2003
Liz – February 16, 2003
Ryan – March 3, 2003
Eddie – March 6, 2003
Steve – March 13, 2003
Jay – May 1, 2003
Jena – August 1, 2003
Patrick – October 6, 2003

2004 - Year of the Monkey
Ry-Ry – May 1, 2004
Jon – May 11, 2004
Chris – May 13, 2004
Rach – June 20, 2004
Corey – June 24, 2004
Tiff – June 25, 2004
Erika – June 29, 2004
Leah – October 10, 2004

2005 - Year of the Rooster
Nama – February 2, 2005
Spencer – February 3, 2005
Jen – February 17, 2005
Kimberly – February 21, 2005
Ann-Marie – April 4, 2005
Jimmy – April 15, 2005
Lisa – April 23, 2005

Ever

I have the best friends. Ever.

I was freaking out yesterday. My schedule was as follows... Friday: Wasatch 8:30 - 1:30, Kara's 4-9pm. Saturday: Kara's 9-4, apartment Check-out: 6pm. Jay helped me move my stuff inbetween Wasatch and Kara's. I called Kat to ask if maybe she could work for me for a few hours for one of the shifts so I could make my check-out time. She didn't call back.

When I got to apt 69 that night around 9:45, Kat and Lisa were just pulling into the parking lot, with the second to last load of all my stuff. My bedroom and bathroom was already empty. We finished moving by midnight, clean check and everything.

I have the best friends. Ever.

Finals are Finished!

I just emailed in my last final of the semester! Hurray!

I have a place to live and a friend to live with! Hurray!

I have an "unofficial interview" tomorrow for a teaching job in Provo which I've been told is practically already mine! Hurray!

I got to talk to Heather tonight and she gets me! Hurray!

Can things be looking up? It must be SUMMER!!

To Do Today
(italics = done)

• Call in sick
• Email professional evaluations with fax numbers
• Take Behavioral Final (Email Dr. Anderson)
• Study for Transition Final
• Take Transition Final
• Take 430 Final and Email it in
• Go to bank
• Look into apartment situation
• Call Liz
• Email IP&T TA
• Call hospital
• Clean room and car
• Shower
• Eat lunch with Ann-Marie, Nama and Ritz
• Go Classic Skating
• Eat Ice Cream

Circular
You pay your quarter, you get on the carousel and you go up, down and around... circular.

I think my spinning carousel is turning at a dangerous pace. Because I got super dizzy last night. On my rush to 69 from Costco (my third time in that parking lot in one day) I admitted a secret to Lisa, "I'm doing too much."
"Yep."

My mom used to say she was doing too much. Actually, she'd scream it at me. "I can't make dinner right now, can't you see I'm doing too much!" or "I don't have time to go to your softball games! I'm doing too much!" And all the while she was saying this, she wouldn't even have time to make eye contact with me... because Oprah was on.

So I used to think that "doing too much" didn't exist. People just said that when they weren't willing to do any more. If there's an empty half hour in your day, if you're able to sit, then you're not doing too much.

But that's not true.

Because different people have different limits of what they can do. My mom had a lower limit than most. Maybe she really was doing too much even though to me it looked like she wasn't doing anything at all. And just because I had this egotistic idea that I had no limit doesn't mean that that's true. Because I think I hit mine.

The almost 40 hours I spend working at Wasatch each week, the 10 - 15 hours I spend working at Kara's each weekend, the 10+ hours I spend in class each week, the 20 hours I put in for my practicum, the countless added hours I spent reading, studying, writing papers, taking tests, assessing students, creating lesson plans and teaching lesson plans have finally broken me.

I'm doing too much.

I don't have nearly enough time for things that matter. Like being a good friend and being thoughtful and considerate.

So, with the risk of me sounding like my mother I say, "I'm sorry I haven't been there. I'm doing too much." But just saying sorry doesn't cut it. So I say, "I will be cutting back on some things (work/school hours) to make more time for you. Because I love you."

But I'm not really turning into my mother, right??

ER

The recess bell rang. The children started running in. I turned to talk to two teachers that had just come out to collect their children. And then I saw Austin, running full speed, trip and fall headlong into a large boulder. It was nasty to see. I said, "Ouch!" and ran to his side, knowing full well that it was serious. A concussion. At least. Another teacher helped me take him to the office. Austin was coming in and out of consciousness and growing more and more limp as we walked. I looked at Teresa who just whispered, "He's going l-i-m-p! Keep him a-w-a-k-e!" I didn't take the time to remind her that she probably didn't have to bother spelling the scary words since he was barely with us. I rushed him into the office, explained to the secretary what was going on and went to look up his mother's number. I sat by Austin as we waited for his mother. She worked 20 minutes away and it was getting harder and harder to keep him awake. He was like a mini-David Johnson. His mother finally arrived and I went with them so I could keep him awake in the back while she drove us to the ER. Rex, the janitor lended me his cell so I could call when I was ready to be picked up. Can I tell you how scary it is to see a kid get hurt like that? And seeing the fear in his mother's eyes? I almost threw up, but had to pretend that I was fine as I had one hand on his mother's shoulder reassuring her that everything would be fine and the other hand on Austin's head holding the ice. I left them when Austin's dad got there. He seemed like he was going to be fine. Another employee came to get me and I went back to the office. "I'm back from my field trip..."

Hello, Good Friend, Goodbye

It's Spring Break. There's no elementary school today, tomorrow or friday. But guess who's still going to work? Unpaid work? Ten hours of unpaid work? ME! Yep, me! In order to not fail my practicum and get kicked out of my program I have to spend five hours today and five hours tomorrow in Salt Lake at West High during my Spring Break. I was so close to getting a break! So close! But this morning I switched back to my coconut lime lotion. So at least I can smell like I'm on vacation... mmmm... spring break...

Jury Duty

I got a letter from the Fourth District Court today. I have to report for jury duty on April 5. WHY?? Do I seriously qualify? Am I even a resident? I have a WA license. And I'm a student. And I have two jobs. And I don't want to. But I'm a little bit curious. So I'll go. But mostly because if I don't I "shall be in contempt of court and subject to penalty." Whatever that means...

Julie says I should tell them that I'm racist. Maybe I'll tell them I hate everybody, especially their client. He looked at me funny.

Or maybe I won't shower until then so I'll be the smelly kid. Nobody wants a smelly kid on their jury.

Or I'll have Bishop Freestone write a medical release. Think he'd do it? Maybe...

After Hours

I had to work Saturday night at Kara's. It was busy. Really busy due to the pre-Easter rush. We closed at 9pm. Savannah and Brooke left and I got busy with the paperwork. There were two registers and hundreds of transactions to go over. It took me 45 minutes to get it done. The numbers were way off. So I did it again. Counted every penny in both registers, tallied up what should be in there, went over the credit card settlement. It was still way off (although I did close the gap by $100). So I did it again. My numbers were the same. I couldn't explain it and it was already 10:30 so I shrugged my shoulders, stapled everything together, wrote up the deposit slip and locked the store behind me. I walked to the doors that would lead me outside.

But they were locked. All of them.

Coldstone was still open and they have a door that goes into the mall and outside. But they couldn't let me in. "But I'm locked in the mall..."
"Sorry, store policy. But there's a guy on a bike patrolling the mall. He can let you out."

I remembered seeing him ride past the store around 9:30. So I went on a quest to find the bike-riding man with keys that could release me to the outside world.

I walked down each dark hall yelling, "Hello? I'm locked in the mall! Hello? Security?" But there was no response. It was close to a dream come true. But each store had that nasty gate down so there was no after hours shopping or clothes fittings. So I continued my search.

I finally stumbled upon a woman with a broom. "Excuse me, have you seen a man riding a bike?"
"Me speak no English."
"Oh, okay."
"Sorry."
"It's okay. I'll find him."
In all three years of taking Spanish in high school and all the stupid emergency phrases I had to memorize like, "Donde es el bano?" and "No hablo Espanol." and "Te queiro chocolate." they had never taught me the crucial phrase of, "Where's the man with the keys riding the bike?" Where were they on that one, huh?

So I continued my quest. But that bike riding guy with keys must have been napping in the big bean bag store because I couldn't find him anywhere. But then there was a voice. "Key! Key?" It was the cute little lady. She had just figured out what I needed.
"Yes! Key! Can your key open that door?"
"Si!"

I paid the kind woman with a bag of Easter chocolate malt eggs and nearly hugged her as I left shouting, "Gracias! Gracias!"

No hablo Espanol.

So tonight I bought Instant Immersion Spanish v2.0. This won't be happening again. The first word I want to learn? Key!

Double Deuce Thursday

I got a pair of miracles today. Yep. I passed my kidney stone early in the morning which is a big enough miracle in itself to make me happy. But then... I did something daring... I tried on my jeans. And it happened. They fit!! My jeans fit again! I have been emancipated from my fat pants! And from it I got this little gem...

Michael (6): Miss Hansen, there's something different about you today.
Me: Ya? What's that?
Michael: I think it's because you've lost weight.

And then he skipped off into the sunset...

Stoned

Some uninvited guests have arrived. Again. I think. There's been no diagnosis from a physician but I know where I'm hurting and what organ is there and what could be in that organ. Stones. I hate them. The pain is nowhere near where it was before because I can still walk. So I went online and looked up a list of things I can and cannot eat.

Foods I can't eat...
beans
beats
green peppers
spinach
cocoa, chocolate
tea
peanuts, peanut oil
salt
meat
soft drinks
wheat bran

Foods I should eat...
magnesium
calcium fortified orange juice
80 oz of water
vitamin c (only 500 mg)
potassium foods
tiny bits of meat
calcium (800-1000mg)
vitamin b6 (from food)

How am I going to live without my Coke and chocolate? What else is there? Is it possible to get through a day without my coke? Can I eat a meal without having a bit of chocolate after as a reward? And can't all of the "food" I'm supposed to eat be found in a single daily vitamin? D'oh!! I better go drink some more water...

Friday

1) Mrs. Markham came to pick up her daughter with a new haircut putting the whispy ends of her medium brown hair just above her shoulders. Where mine used to be. And I wanted to run to the nearest hair salon to make mine the same way. Because recently I've been waking up with my hair wrapped around my face or neck making my non-functional brain believe I'm blind or being strangled. Also, I rarely wash my hair and having less dirty hair may be less offensive to the general public. Something to think about.
2) I gave myself a French manicure on Wednesday. My nails were all long and pretty. Until Friday when I found the Chewy Peps at Kara's chocolates to be in one giant unmoving lump at the bottom of the jar, neglected by the girls who had decided to ignore the closing list all week. So I was left to pry each pep free one by one. And the middle finger's nail broke on my right hand. And so did my spirit. My heart-wrenched cry disturbed a few passersby in the mall and Roger, who was there decorating chocolate Easter eggs.
3) On my way to the car that evening, a hearse was parked near my car. Why? Nobody likes death. Why park death's vehicle at the mall? Certainly, there's nobody inside. Right? But as I passed by there was a coffin. Somebody ditched Uncle Harry in the parking lot in order to catch a sale at the Gap. "I'm going to miss poor Uncle Harry... wait... is there a sale going on? Pull over! Harry can wait!" Maybe Uncle Harry doesn't mind but you know what? I MIND!

The Preshow

The Celine Dion show had a wide variety of people in the audience, most dressed quite formally carrying in their own drinks from the casino. People were dressed well and the new concert hall looked nice and fancy. And walking down the aisles was a woman equipped with a change maker and programs yelling, "Programs! Programs! Get your programs here!" as if she were selling hotdogs at a baseball game. This amused me and so I added, "Peanuts, Popcorn, Lucky Charms!" without thinking (obviosly because Lucky Charms wouldn't have made it through the filter... probably). Suzy and Sarah giggled, the well-dressed drunks around us erupted into laughter. I have quite a knack for entertaining the intoxicated.

And then... this beauty came into my life. This is the message I listened to right before the show.

"Hi Emily. In another nine minutes it is... well... in fact it is... ya... in another nine minutes it will be 8:30 and I'll be thinking of you when you listen to that fabulous show of Celine Dion. (pronounced Seeleen Dee-on) I hope you really enjoy it and I will be looking forward in what you think about it. OK, this is your dad. Mom and I love you. We'll talk to you later. Okay. Bye."

I started laughing and repeated the message to Suzy and Sarah in my best "Dad" voice. He always leaves messages and then leaves off at the end "...oh... and this is your Dad..." as if I'd confuse him with all the other old men that call me to tell me what the weather is like in Provo as compared to Renton and what the wind chill factor is. Suzy and Sarah laughed. But they weren't alone. Apparantly I had suddenly turned into a one woman act and my whole section had joined the audience. The more-than-a-bit-tipsy woman sitting in front of us turned to me and asked with tears of laughter in her eyes, "Are you making this stuff up or did your dad really leave you that message?" I told her (and the rest of my audience) that I was all too serious and explained the odd but simple relationship my dad and I have that revolves around weather predictions and webcams. But my nine minutes were up and my captivated audience shifted their attention to Celine Dion. But it left me thinking that maybe it's time to write that book... it can be like a coffee table book but a bar book instead since apparantly I'm most hillarious to those that have tossed back a few... it will be mine.... oh yes, it will be mine.

A New Day

So I went to see Celine Dion this weekend in Las Vegas with my Sarah and Suzy. I'm taking a big risk here because I'm going to be honest with you all for a change. I love her. Seriously. Her show was incredible. It was created by Dragone who also created Cirque du Soleil (we also went to the O Show... fantastic) which added a certain dreamworld quality. But the fact is, Celine Dion has over the top vocal ability. Huge voice... itty bitty living space. I understand it makes me a dork to admit that I am now a Celine Dion fan. But is this really new information? And it's because I'm an insecure dork that after I dropped Sarah and Suzy off at the airport I went back to Caesar's Palace to buy the live version of her Las Vegas show. (And a copy of her autobiography.) But if you can forgive Kat for watching a Pauly Shore movie on a Saturday then certainly you can find a place in your heart to accept my Celine Dion loving heart... right?

Once, Twice, Three Times a 7th Grader

I went to Northwest Middle School in Salt Lake on Friday to begin my practicum five weeks late. So instead of a two hour block, I was required to fill a five hour block. Lucky me. While visiting this fine facility I was mistaken for a 7th grader not once, not twice but three times.

Tardy
I was supposed to be there at 8am but I hit a snag of traffic so I walked into the front doors at roughly 8:05am. I was late and I was immediately greeted by the front security guard who grunted at me and pointed to the line of students waiting to get their tardy slips from the front office. I started to tell him I was a volunteer but he grunted again so I shut my trap and stood in line. When I finally got to the front, I informed the front desk that I wasn't a student. I was a volunteer. Was there some sort of volunteer sticker I could wear so this wouldn't happen again? No, no... just go on back...

Hall Pass?
Second period was math and just like when I attended middle and high school this gave me the sudden need to use the restroom. I asked the teacher where it was and made the journey across the hall. The hall officer saw me and yelled at me to inform me that I needed a hall pass. I told yelled back that I was a volunteer. He eyed me suspiciously... OK...

Worksheets
Third period was Health and there was a sub. I sat in the back desk to observe for the first half of class. She came around passing out busy work packets and gave me one too. Uh... I don't think I'll be needing one of these....
And why is that??
Because I'm a volunteer...
Oh... sorry... it's just that you look... well... nevermind... sorry...

As I observed these 7th graders, it was great to see that not much had changed since I'd been in their shoes. Notes were passed, teachers were mocked, movements were awkward and emotions ran high. But I think I'll make myself a volunteer sticker for the next time I go...

Tidbits of Tragedy

Tidbits of Tragedy

1. Chubble
As you all know, I signed up for a gym. What you don’t know is that Matt (my tour guide/signer-upper) was strategically sporting a tight, unbuttoned polo shirt, no doubt to display his muscles and unfortunately his chubble. See, Matt apparently has a habit of shaving his chest but had neglected to do so the past day or so which resulted in a type of 5-o’clock shadow at 9am for my never-to-be-the-same-again eyes.

2. Moron Sandwich
I always sit in the same place in Monday’s class. The order goes like this… (BJ=Brian, X=empty seat, M=Em, AG1=Annoying Girl 1, AG2=Annoying Girl 2)
wall BJ X X X M X aisle
Which is what the situation looked like at the beginning of class.
But annoying girl #1 came in 20 minutes late as she always does and again made the risky decision to sit next to me. So now the order went…
wall BJ X X X M AG1 aisle
AG1 is incapable of whispering and she earned her title of AG1 by being both annoying and stupid. She comes in and in a not so quiet voice asked, “So have we done anything yet? Was there a quiz?” She asks millions stupid questions that give me hives. Today was no different. Teacher, “…so we should avoid sending kids to the office.” AG1, “So… should we try to avoid sending kids to the office?” Groan. Shudder. Right before break annoying girl #2 comes in almost an hour late and squeezes past me to sit down. Now the order goes…
wall BJ X AG2 X M AG1 aisle
Then it’s break and I have an important decision to make. Do I stay where I am or move one seat over to sit by AG2? Which is the lesser of the two evils? I finally decide that although AG2’s questions are more frequent they are less stupid that AG1’s. So I move. The order now goes…
wall BJ X AG2 M X AG1 aisle
Then AG1 came back from break, points to the precious X now between me and her life and says, “Oh! Is anybody sitting there?” She took my shocked look of horror to mean, “Sure, have a seat” and sat down beside me. So now the order goes like this…
wall BJ X AG2 M AG1 X aisle
A moron sandwich
Why? Why? Why would you choose to sit right next to somebody when you can easily put a space between you? Especially when you’re on an isle? Why?? Why does she want to hurt me?? So, near panic attack, I began to color my CD labels trying to convince myself I was anywhere else but right there in a moron sandwich. While I had stupid in stereo. AG2, “So, do you have a syllabus for this class?” AG1, “So I see you’re drawing CD labels that say Happy Birthday Dad and Happy Birthday Mom. Is it their birthday?” So I started to ignore them. I had to. Because if I were to utter any response it would have been a cuss word. And it would have been loud.

3. AI Interruptions
I missed most of American Idol tonight because the roomful of people that insisted on coming over to #69 just because they were in charge of FHE lacked the appreciation for the show and didn’t have the respect necessary to shut their traps while the pop star wannabes did their thing. At least I got to hear Constantine do his rock star holler. That was all I needed really.

4. Release my key
Coming back from my lunch break, I pulled into the parking lot, turned my car off and took my key out. Wait, no I didn’t. My key wouldn’t come out. It was stuck. I yanked, pulled, turned, twisted, swore, made sure the break was on, checked to see it was in park, swore, yanked, turned and then drove back home to get my spare key so I could leave my stuck key in the car with a limited risk of the car being stolen (we’ve been there before, right?). When I got to my apartment lot, I tried again. And the key came right out. So I drove back to work and the key came right out. And I was 20 minutes late for work. Again.

Costco Lunch

Costco Lunch

I went to Costco today during the lunch rush. It was perfect timing because all the little ladies with hairnets were out with their mini ovens and paper cups allowing me to try a soup (which I bought), a corndog, a Take 5 Hershey bar, veggie sausage and a low-fat ice cream sandwich (which I didn't buy). It brought back fantastic memories of being a kid and running errands with my mom. I hated running errands with my mom, unless we were going to Costco. Because they fed me. I would spend all my time running from hair-netted lady to hair-netted lady. It was like trick-or-treating without the costume and the cold. And the candy. And the hair-netted ladies always fell for the ol'-I'm-grabbing-an-extra-one-for-my-brother-trick so I could have double helpings.

Some habits die hard. Which brings me back to the gym issue.

H is for Happy

I’m happy. I’ve been smiling all day because I got to see my Heather. And somehow that healed me.

Because only Heather could know how crucial it was for me to sleep in, go shopping and get my first pedicure. Only Heather could know that Donkey Konga could help mend my wrended soul.

I needed her keen fashion sense, her fantastic stories and her ability to persuade me to buy nice clothes and accessories and pink toenails.

Because Heather understands me.

And so I've been smiling all day. I didn't yell at a single student and I was even able to refrain from swearing at Stupid Question Girl who made the risky decision to sit next to me. So it was definitely worth the 20+ hours in the car by myself to drink from the healing spring of Heather.

Also, Heather looks good. Dang good. I'll be joining a gym this week...

Paper and Plastic (And Cans and Glass and Compost and Common Sense)

Kara's got a memo from the mall informing all merchants to seperate their cardboard from their trash and take them to seperate trash compactors. This way, instead of spending hundreds of thousands of dollars each year to have it taken away and put in a landfill, the mall would actually be paid over $400,000 a year if they recycle it. Makes sense, right?

But our little 17-year-old employee doesn't think it makes sense at all and risks the potential fine to our store in order to spare herself the inconvenience of throwing the cardboard into a different bin. I explained to her on Monday that the mall was serious and probably wanted their $400,000. She thought I was kidding, winked and smiled at me and shoved a few more boxes into the garbage bag. "But it's so annoying having to go to both compactors."
"But you only have to go to one or the other each night."
"Oh."
"Ya..."
"But it's still annoying. It's so stupid."
"Recycling is stupid?"
"Ya." She rolled her eyes again. She does that a lot.
"Saving the environment is stupid?"
"Oh gosh! Please!"

I went on to explain to her exactly why recycling wasn't stupid. Clear water, less landfills resulting in more liveable land for humans and animals, less air pollution, the economical benefits...
"Oh, great... what next? The Ozone layer??"
"Ya actually. You think they made that up to scare you into sorting cardboard for their own amusement?"

And then I had to walk away. Because for a moment I hated her.

Valentines Day Disaster

Last week was my first week in a new ward. I loved it. Some girl saw me sitting alone and came over to sit by me and starting asking the typical getting to know you questions. We covered the bases of where I was from, what I was studying, where I was working, blah, blah, blah. Until there was that awkward pause when all the questions have been asked and you still have to sit together. Then she turned to me and in an excited whisper she asked, "Sooooo... are you dating anybody?" And then I was unable to control my sudden burst of laughter. I laughed for three reasons... 1) The way she asked it was hillarious. Like a thirteen year old girl at a slumber party right before you start calling the boys you like and asking, "So, do you like Kate? Do you like Megan? Emily? OK, Bye!" It was adorable. 2) I had just been thinking about how pretty much every thing in my life has been going wrong and if I did have a guy in my life that relationship would be destined for disaster as well and 3) It isn't even possible for me to be dating considering the fact that I haven't met a single boy since August. The last reason is the excuse I gave to the girl to explain my laughter.

In a recent email, Julie suggested that I not overlook the "Shreks." Which I assumed to mean that I need to lower my standards on actual physical attraction.

So, this last Sunday while waiting for Sunday School to start I was looking around the room and thinking about all of these things when I saw him. Shrek. He's not hideously ugly or anything, just not somebody I was attracted to. And I thought to myself, "Self. You're not attracted to this guy. Maybe you should take Julie's advice and go talk to him." And then I smiled a big smile as I laughed at my own joke in my head because that would certainly be icing on my cake of destruction. But as I was gazing off into space laughing at my own dark humor, I just happened to be looking him in the eye which I realized when he winked at me and smiled. I did a quick smile and then looked at the floor. Crap.

There was a valentine on my front step this morning. It was made of red construction paper with a stencil of a teddy bear and heart on it done with a gel pen. Inside, a very clever gentleman made a heart out of @ signs which he had printed out, cut out and pasted inside of the card. Underneath the heart it read, "Your love is where it's at! -Love Bruce"

I frantically searched for a ward directory. Yep, Bruce and Shrek are one of the same. My sweet valentine. Maybe I too am "accidentally in love"... :o)

Letters from Home
Pre-script: My sister's driveway is really steep. Almost straight up and down kind of steep. And pretty long.

Hello Emily,

As we told you, Judy invited us over for a birthday dinner for me last night. When we arrived there, I drove up their driveway so Grandma wouldn't have to walk up the steep driveway. We told her to wait until someone could help her get out of the car. But she got out of the car by herself, fell down unto the pavement, and rolled all the way down the driveway to the street. David came running out of the house to help her.

She was able to get up on her feet with the help of David with just a few scratches on her knees and elbows. She had nothing broken. David helped her walk back up the driveway into the house. I was amazed that we didn't have to call 911. I really believe there must have been an unseen angel that helped her. Can you imagine that a 85 year old woman could get through an incident like that without getting badly injured? Today she is walking around the house like nothing ever happened to her. Could you roll down their driveway without getting hurt? In fact, while she was rolling down the driveway not a sound came from her. I think that I would be screaming for my dear life. Mom, who was in the back seat of the car taking care of the dogs didn't see Grandma fall and wondered how Grandma could disappear so fast. Like where did she go!

Judy thinks that Grandma is a tough cookie.

Love,
Dad

Happy Anniversary

So it was my two year anniversary with my Blog on the 3rd. But I missed it. So today I had to buy it flowers and chocolates and beg for forgiveness. Not only for forgetting our anniversary but also for being a boring, whiney subject. It took me back. And then I ate the chocolate.

Why 2005 may not be my year...

1. I have been homeless 18 of the 31 days
2. I received two tickets within 12 days. (One for parking in Visitor Parking and one today for speeding in West Jordan trying to get to my class "field trip" in time)
3. I'm too poor to graduate this year

Why 2005 could definitely be my year...

1. I might be able to make a road trip to San Diego next month to see Heather
2. I'm going to Las Vegas in March to see Sarah, Suzy, Circe de Sol and Celine Dion
3. I'm working full-time at Wasatch Elementary, part-time at Kara Chocolates, I'm taking grad classes at BYU full-time and I still have a couple friends. Bra, I can do anything!!

Victory

Today was the first day in over two weeks that I haven't been approached with one of the following phrases...

• "Ew, you look how I feel."
• "Are you feeling okay? Because you don't look so good."
• "Maybe you should go home. You look sick."
• "You look tired. Didn't get much sleep last night?"
• "You look... comfortable."
• "Are you sick? Or just really tired?"

Instead, the only similar approach today went like this, "Wow, feeling better today? You look better." Thanks, Mrs. Wilde. I do feel better.

Comfortable

The other day as I was leaving the elementary school for my lunch break, I passed by our P.E. teacher (also my age and going to the Y) who looked at me and said, "Hi Emily... you look... comfortable."

What was wrong with my homeless garb of my black pants and oversized green sweatshirt that I stole from my brother? And maybe I wasn't wearing make-up and didn't bother putting my contacts in. And maybe my hair was pulled back in a sloppy pony tail. What? That's not attractive?

I need to start showering...

Transient Blog: Day 7

Yes, it has been a full week since I've had a place to live. Need I say more? Really?

Dancing on the Threshold of Hell

Life in #303 has been a whole lot less than desirable. I won't go into details because I don't want to. So you'll have to take my word for it. Or maybe you'll understand when you see me in my car with a suitcase in the back with everything I may need in the next week or so. Or maybe you'll get a hint of what I'm going through when you see me huddled on the couch of #69 trying to catch a bit of sleep. Today Karen asked me where it was that I was living now and I told her. On the threshold of Hell.

But tonight, in honor of our Ann-Marie's birthday, I danced here. Well I didn't dance here. Because I don't dance. But I stood around as I watched other people dance here. Right on the threshold of Hell.

In Da Club

I hate it when cell phones go off in class. Why can't they just turn their phones off before class? I do.

But I forgot today.

And just now, in the middle of my tech class, with 40 other people in this class, while the teacher is giving a motivational speech about technology and teaching, my phone rings.

My ringer of choice? In Da Club.

My Mom is Crazy

I love hearing from other people that my mom is crazy because it validates my own opinion and makes me feel less guilty for recognizing the fact. Today I got a phone call that went a little something like this...

J: Hi
E: Hi
J: Your mom called me today.
E: Uh, oh.
J: Have you talked to your mom today?
E: No. What did she say?
J: She said that you're going to finish school early...
E: Maybe...
J: And then move up here and live with me.
E: What?
J: Ya, she said that you were going to move up here and live with me and she told me that she hoped I didn't mind having somebody living in my basement.
E: Uh... I didn't tell her I was moving in with you.
J: You didn't?
E: No, I didn't even tell her I was moving to Seattle. Only that I might be finishing school early.
J: I told her that you were thinking about moving some place else besides Seattle but she told me that you were moving to Seattle for sure now and that you were definitely going to move in with me.
E: My mom doesn't know anything about me. Or my plans.
J: Anyway, I gotta go.
E: OK.
J: Have a good day.
E: OK.

And then I was left alone. With a million thoughts running through my head. Wondering if maybe she had forgotten her pills. Curious about where and when she had written that story and why, with all the things to do, she would decide to call somebody and share it with people outside of her own head. All of this comes from one simple statement to my mother last night that finishing school early was a possiblity and when asked I also said that moving to Seattle was also a "possibility." I think it wise not to tell my mother anything. Ever.

It's funny, too. Because if my mother knew me at all she would know that I have a huge fear of life commitments. I cry every time I have to sign a contract. For anything. I freaked out when I had to commit to a year for my cell phone. Freaked out even more when I had to sign a contract for an apartment. I freaked out when I had to commit to going to school. I never like being tied down to any one decision. Why would I commit to any type of living arrangement for a year from now? That's just not my style.

Winter Wonderland

On Monday I spent $400 on textbooks. I wanted to die. The lady who checked me out saw the mound of books (obviously since she was checking me out) and said, "Are you sure you know what you're doing? This could be the straw that breaks the camel's back." I told her that my classes were chosen for me and that this would definitely break my back considering I had to walk home with them. Then, as I was bagging them (it took four huge bags) I muttered under my breath, "I'm going to have to start drinking..." and the girl next to me who was bagging her single small text book looked over at me with horror in her eyes as if I had just dropped the F-bomb in the middle of General Conference. So I went to the Sev and bought a Double Gulp Coke and drank almost the whole thing. It was 1.9 Liters. But it was good. Real good. The worst part of it is that now I have to read them all. What kind of sick place is this?

On Tuesday I went to my first class. It's a technology class. I was delighted to find that I was sitting directly behind the only girls who hadn't showered since the 7th grade. I mean, I admit that my showering schedule is less than desirable and that we all have busy lives but... come on... it was the first day of class. If you can't find time to shower on the first day of classes then it's never going to happen. I need to find a new seat. On the plus side, our first class was all about teaching us what a Blog is and how to set one up. I went in and opened my Dashboard to show my three Blogs. Mr. Teacher said I could go ahead and go home. I did.

It started snowing last night and didn't stop. I hate the snow. Mostly because it's cold and wet and slippery. Also, it's white which means it's nasty brownish black. I'm also not a fan because since my car heater is broken, it's cold even when I'm in my car. And since when things are warmer inside than they are outside windows get fogged up and since fogged windows are bad for driving because you can't see through foggy windows and since my heater is broken so it can't make the fogginess go away... I had to drive with my windows rolled down... with the snow coming in my car. How long until Spring?

So I bought Napoleon Dynamite. And watched all the deleted scenes. And then watched all the deleted scenes with commentary. And then watched the movie. I was going to then watch the movie with commentary but I had a headache because the whole viewing experience was accompanied with the sound blasting while sitting right in front of the television because my psycho roommate was laying across our couch, having one of her loud seizure-like anxiety attacks and because our clattering washing machine was on. Thank goodness for Napoleon and his ability to make me laugh so hard I snorted. Many times. With a few gasps and wheezes.

Back in Town

I'm back in town. I flew in on Friday. I really, really, really didn't want to come back. I was perfectly content sleeping in the big bed in the Faerber's basement with no worries about work or school or crazy roommates (although I did share a bedroom with the Poopsmith). But with out the details of the fight between my many personalities, the rational one won and I'm here and ready to start the new semester. On the flight home I was sitting next to a young blonde girl who, when we started our descent into the Salt Lake valley, suddenly burst into tears and didn't stop until after we landed. I knew how she felt. Not because I hate Utah or because I wasn't excited to see my friends, but because last semester almost killed me and this semester I'm adding another class to the craziness.

I might die.

Will you still love me when I have 27 nervous twitches, I weigh a much as your mom and I've been without shower and razor for three months? Will you?