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.