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.