quoth the raven, "nevermore"

who better to define my fabulously dark and daaangerous team, than the deep and brooding edgar allan poe? useless bit of information for the day: they were actually named in honor of the incredibly famous poem, which he wrote in baltimore. their mascots name? poe. how appropriate. only an english teacher [or a major dork like myself] would know author trivia behind a nfl team ha. also, im pretty sure dumbass mike tomlin tried to quote dylan thomas, another fab poet, after the game and f'ed it all up. how do you seriously not know the opening stanza of "do not go gentle into that good night"? ok, so maybe im one of the ten people in the world who know it. me and some random librarians in missouri. but if you dont know it, DONT try to quote it. i think what you wanted your team to do was "rage, rage against the dying of the light." but that didnt work out so well.

especially after you looooost because a rookie stole your ball and ran it back for an overtime game winner? booyah. a ravens win over a steelers loss just makes me want to dance. its so much sweeter than any other win. also, john harbaugh can get itttt. so glad he left the stupid eagles and came to us. sorry k, i know youre gona pout. ill try to be supportive of your corny team. even though i think you should come to the dark side bahahaha. also, i feel as though i should explain myself. i was never a football fan. put me in the nosebleeds at a phillies game and im the happiest girl in the world. but football? eh. switch to five years ago, and along came a boy who changed all that. while d gave me many wonderful things over the course of our relationship, my love of the ravens is by far one of my favs. ill admit, at first i was just trying to be susie homemaker, supporting my boyfriends weirdly obsessive behavior related to a purple football team. purple? not very beer and burping, sunday ritual, wings with the boys, shouting at the tv manly - if you ask me. but as time went on, i really got caught up in the hullabaloo. and before i knew it, wham. HUGE fan! i know stats, history, players, all kinds of crazy junk. i wear my flacco jersey every sunday, in new jersey, where i get made fun of on a daily basis. i asked for another one for christmas. i realllly want a purple one. ha. preferably with the names of one of these two studs on the back. youre looking at the overjoyed faces of ray rice from rutgers [holla at new jersey]. he is prob the smallest and fastest boy in the nfl right now. and ray lewis holds the record for being the longest nontenured athlete to stay with a team. which means, he is NOT under year-to-year contract to the ravens, folks. he could leave at any time. but he doesnt. and he hasnt for twelve years. because he loves his team. 

 

ok enough. i get it. it just annoys me when people are like, oh youre a big ravens fan? why? how long have you been a fan? youre not from baltimore. thats stupid. get over yourselves. the entire reason i dont like the eagles is because i wasnt going to just join everyone else. i know nothing about the team. i hate the coach. the fans, with the exception of my friends, are total looney tunes. and purples a way better color! the ravens may not be the best team in the nfl. but they try really hard. and they have alot of heart. which is all i can ask. that, and for them to beat the stupid steelers every once in awhile!

define awkward

awkward [awk-werd]  adj.  :

1. lacking skill or dexterity, clumsy; unskillfully or clumsily performed
The opera [My night] was marred by an awkward aria [run-in with ears].


2.  lacking grace or ease in movement
In an attempt to appease the crowd [mm], she raised her hand in an awkward half-hearted salute [wave]. 


3.  lacking social graces or manners
It was difficult to hold a normal conversation with the simple, awkward salesman [toma] without causing distress. 


4. not well planned or designed for easy or effective use; difficult to handle or manage
It was impossible for the cashier [me] to carry the boxes [drink my vodka] and handle customers [avoiding all the boys i "know"] at the same time.


5. difficult to effect; uncomfortable
At one point, it looked as though the young boy [sl] was struggling to erect an awkward pose [by hiding his wedding ring]. 

6.  requiring caution; somewhat hazardous; dangerous
Something made the driver [me] realize he [I] should slow down when [talking to km] approaching the awkward curve in the road [exgf in the bar]. 


7. hard to deal with, difficult; requiring skill, tact or the like
An [Many] awkward situation[s] arose during the peace talks [night in ac with lp], which came to light at a later date [the savoy].


8.  embarassing or inconvenient; caused by lack of social grace; marked by embarassment or discomfort
The miffed employee [haim] replied with an awkward remark [about the loml summer], causing the group to fall silent.




dear dictionary, my LIFE is awkward.

although i love it, life is sometimes messy in a small town. you go out for a fun night with friends and end up running into your past, present and future all in one room. its like juggling all night. there are those you would like to avoid like the plague and pretend that youre hallucinating their presence. those that you enjoy being around but think that the "friend" feelings arent mutual. those that you wish you could see alottt more of, if you know what i mean. those that are an extreme blast from the past, who you praise the lord you never stayed with because apparently open relationships are their thing. those that are new options, but sensitive subjects because of crazy outside influence. and those who you just shake your head and say what am i doing with my life. the other night was probably the most "in your face" version of an awkward night. but now that im living home, the sad reality is, there will be many more nights like that to come. yikes.

to fistpump or not to fistpump?

that is the question. leave it to mtv to come up with the most ridic show they could think of. thank you mtv. lets give america oneee more reason to make fun of new jersey. lets encourage all the idiots out there to think of new jersey as one big mass of blowouts and acrylic nails. for anyone who is NOT familiar, this is not my life:

and this is definitely not my life:

these people are freaks. i can pretty much attest to the fact that i have never, nor will i ever, nor does anyone i know, own a skintight leather miniskirt. and i would put money on the fact that if they did, for whatever kinky reason i dont want to know about, they would notttt wear it to a shore bar. as im sure everyone has heard a million times, new jersey is like two states. but it really is! if you walked into the dead dog saloon in sea isle city, aka my little piece of heaven on earth, wearing a "shirt" that resembles a silk scarf and four inch peeptoe wedges. . . the band would stop playing and make fun of you via microphone. the patrons would spit their drinks across the bar. the bartender would ask you if you were the live entertainment for the bachelor party in the back corner. no one looks like that. in most sea isle bars, youre lucky if the guests have actually showered from the beach. the atmosphere is very lowkey. it is perfectly acceptable to drink out of a fishbowl, a child size mug with a straw, or a plastic solo cup. in some bars, you can go topless. guys, that is. drinks are approx $1. you will hear crazy renditions of classic rock songs like dont stop believing from about six different bands as the summer goes on. bathing suits are almost always accepted. high heels, however, are not. if youre looking at a guy with gel in his hair, you most likely will run in the other direction.

if asked to determine between north and south jersey in a polite way, i would say it deals with the topic of maintenance. north jersey = very high maintenance. south jersey = so very not. i just cannot deal. i just ask one thing. mtv and everyone else who thinks exposing this part of new jersey is a good idea, please determine where exactly you are talking about. seaside heights makes my skin crawl. let the world know that you are, in fact, telling the story of what a north jersey summer looks like. and leave the rest of us alone to enjoy our sunday jam, lemonades, no shower happy hour, sidewinders, od floor, 302s, table dives, conga lines and rains down in africa.

raveable reads

ive decided to start something new for my hoards of blog followers. ha ha. but seriously, anyone who knows me, knows i read books like im going to the electric chair. im a very fast reader and i love books. i dont have as much time as id like during the school year. which is the reason for the two cabinets full (aka about thirty) books that are calling my name. and the ones i juuust cant help but buy everytime i go into a bookstore. but i do get to squeeze some in occasionally. which is why im posting. ive decided to start posting the read-worthy things i come across. just finished two incredible books that you must must must get (or borrow from me!):

[the bachelorette party by karen mccullah lutz]
never heard of her? she was a cowriter of the legally blond movies. trust me, the biting wit is definitely present in this book. about an unlikely group of women on a bachelorette party. its one of those nights where the bride knows everyone, but no one knows each other. and it gets pretty out of control pretty quickly! veryyy funny. laughed out loud at a few points. will most definitely remind you of a combination of the best nights youve had out with your girlfriends. dont want to spoil the surprises, but its honestly one of the best books i read in awhile. dont get me wrong, by no means a classic. but hilarious to the point where i couldnt put it down.

and. . .

[glass slipper, gold sandal by paul fleischman]
yes folks, its a picture book. but a phenomenal one. my curriculum at school is pretty lame. in order to expand on ANYthing in the textbook, you have to do it on your own time with your own funds. not so easy. last week, we were supposed to read yeh-shen in the textbook, the chinese and oldest known version of the cinderella story. since then, over 900 versions have been published around the world. crazy me, i tried to locate as many of them as possible. i wanted to give the kids background and meaning to what we were reading in the text. have them see outside the beautiful blond white girl with the mean sisters and magic pumpkin. so we started the 900cinderellas project, an idea ive used before. they are a people OBsessed. i have approx 40 versions of the cinderella story in my room and more ive bookmarked online, from the very old to the just published, from the deeply cultural to the silly and singsongy. my entire idea came to a head when i found this book. paul fleischman is a literary god. he combined a bunch of different stories into this book, calling it a worldwide cinderella. the entire story is told in bits and pieces from different cultures. and it blends together to create a beautiful story. when i tell you, i read it four separate times to rooms of 25+ seventh grade students who were silent, i kid you not. you could hear a pin drop. i got chills at the end everytime. for the child in us all, its a must read.

abc, its easy as 123

today was quite a rough day. parent conferences usually are where i teach. these people care less about their kids than last nights reruns of oth and gg [which im still mad about!] but god forbid when report cards come out. now its time to get on your soapbox. about me. and how the color of my skin affects the way i teach your child. and that i just dont understand his/her disability and how to help him/her. and how i dont know what im doing because im young. and that i must have something against your child. bullshit, people. i dont stroll in here with your kids in the morning and race out with them in the afternoon. im here. early in the mornings, late at night. trying to make this world a better place for your children. the same ones i "dont know how to teach". some days my job is very rewarding. and others, like today, it makes me want to just give up and cry.

deep breaths.

this brings me to why im here. blogstalking, as always. saw the idea for todays post on h's sorority sister m's blog. which is SO super cute btw. and im becoming a follower as soon as h tells her (so as not to be mildly creepy). sometimes i need to remind myself that life is good. that as far as lives go, mine pretty much rocks. in honor of the season, here are the abc's of my thankfulness :)

a. apple pie. authors. audrey hepburn. adriana trigiani. ac. artifact.
b. blogging. [mr.] bear. the beatles. breakfast at tiffanys. books. beer. bruce springsteen.
c. cinderella. crown royal. cala. creativity. calligraphy. cousins.
d. dancing. doodling. dalton street.
e. enjoyatan. etaylor. everyone in my life.
f. food. farmers. family and friends.
g. girlfriends. gianna. glee. gang signs.
h. homeroom206. high heels. home. heaven is a place.
i. impossibilities. illustrators. italians.
j. jason mraz. jstack. julia. jersey girl. jefflewis.
k. kids (some of them). koose. karma.
l. lil wayne. love. lucia lucia. lazy days. lovestory. loveactually. lucianos. living the dream.
m. making out. men -not boys. mr. schuester. macys.
n. newjersey. the note notebook. nich. never say never.
o. the oceandrive. old friends. old pictures. obvi.
p. pitbulls. parties. polka dots. pietros. phillies. poetry. plaid.
q. quiet. quirky people. quotes.
r. ribbon. randoms. rain. ryder. ravens. redribbon week. roomies.
s. sisters. sea isle. stalking. seventh graders. singing. shaunnabrae. sunnyfriday. summer.
t. turkeybowl. texting. tsix. tokens. twentyquestions. tfln. thomas'. tropanatty.
u. umbrellas. ugly holiday sweater day.
v. virgin suicides. voluptuousness. visa. values. vegetables.
w. waffles. 231walnut street. weddings. wipeout. waltwhitman. willywonka.
x. xerox machines that work. xanax. xactly where i am right now :)
y. being young. yoga. saying yes.
z. zinfandel, preferably red. zoos.

hey jealousy

ok heres the deal. i have a hangover. who knows what that means? doesnt that mean youre drunk? nooo. it means i was drunk yesterday.  [jack black school of rock]


on the flip side, had the most fun last night. a reunion of old roomies from what is probably one of the best summers of my life. havent seen each other in awhile, especially not all together. very nice to know that time, distance, and life havent changed much. when youre living in a college town, summers are very interesting. you see a totally different crowd of people. the feeling is much more laid back, throughout the entire town. you get to know the local culture. you start to feel like you really belong there. like its your home. also, you have a ridiculous amount of free time without classes. which leads to some very memorable times. we were very big on dancing. like, learning dances. and bringing them out during after-bar parties at our house. always a big hit. needless to say, there was alot of dancing, a couple boxes of wine, a huge amount of laughter. and i walked away with the proud accomplishment of now knowing the hannah montana hoedown throwdown dance. i know. youre jealous. but fabbbbulous news: my exroomie j now lives in arizona with her bf, who proposed tonight! super exciting! we figured out last night that it was coming today. theyre home to see the family for the first time in a year. fancy dinner planned. all that jazz. ah! theyve talked plans for awhile, wedding in az. which means, vacation! through the entire time ive know j, shes had a rough time with boys. always picking the losers. the ones who dont appreciate how much she rocks. and finally with s, shes so super happy. and i couldnt be happier for her.

that being said. . . im jealous. there, i said it. i feel like a terrible person for being jealous, but i am. would i want to take away her happiness? not in a million years. do i wish i had the same? obviously. i feel like a total jerk for even saying this, but sometimes its hard to just be happy for someone else when you want what they have so badly. so many of my friends are in committed relationships, engaged or married. and dont get me wrong. i love it. what more could you want than for the people you love most to be happy? but is it wrong to want the same for yourself? i just feel like this time last year, my life was headed in a completely different direction. i had a plan. i had the makings of a life, of a future. and now im back to square one. how do you just start over? im still trying to pick up the pieces of the life i had. shouldnt i be throwing those pieces out and starting fresh? how can i do that when everday, i just want what i had before? i feel like i was so close. and the rug was just swept out from under me. its hard rebuilding from there. i felt so lost. and honestly, i still do. i was a part of someone else for so long, i dont know how to just be me anymore. im trying to get myself back. and trying to find someone new. and maybe im not. part of me likes being alone. and i know im not ready to move on completely to something new. i know i should continue having freedom and fun. testing whats out there. but a bigger part of me is totally heartbroken and i dont know what to do about it. im so confused about how i feel. its like i dont even know myself. i wonder if i really miss d and what we had. or if i just miss that stability and that comfort of knowing someone is there, no matter what. how can i know why i miss us? i feel like if it was him i missed and needed, i would hurt alot more at the thought of being without him. so maybe its just the security blanket i cant wrap myself in anymore. but with each passing day, i become more bitter about it. and its harder to watch the people in my life building and building on what they have while i feel like im standing still. and i dont want to be this way. its not fair to those people. they have given me nothing but support and concern and heartfelt happiness for me, in good times and bad. and they deserve nothing less from me. i feel like im stuck. i need to figure all of this out. and i just want it to stop.

where im from

cleaning my room today [for the first time since i moved home, mind you] i found a writing assignment i wrote for a grad class. we were asked to write everyday at the beginning class in our journals. one day the assignment was to create an "im from" poem, a sort of non-rhyming, free thought expression of who you are and how you came to be that way. when asked to "publish" a piece of writing as the final project for the class, this immediately came to mind. approx 35 drafts later, here it is. it kind of goes along with my last  post. and its MUCH better in person - there are pictures and creative calligraphy and even a homemade bookcover - but the words really mean alot. i really do think this is a very succinct representation of who i am, in so many words. for reasons that will become clear at the close, it makes me sentimental. and a little sad. everything in here has made an impact on my life, some more so than others. and since then, things have changed. hence, the sad part. and yes, my heart breaks to think of it. but thats a topic for another day. in retrospect, i was given a topic and asked to go with it. these were the things i thought of. my subconscious thought they were the meaningful ones. and at this point, i couldnt agree more.

where im from
[for my parents. . . thank you for where im from. i hope youre proud of where im going.]


im from new jersey, where you may find big hair, but youll also find big hearts. im from all one and a half square miles of newfield. im from 209 dalton street, the house my parents built together. im from the home that i have physically left but that my heart never will. im from guy luciano, of the "famous" luciano brothers (and maybe even lucky!). im from mary ann asselta, who i still cant believe has facebook! im from katie mary. youll always be the "little". im from noisy hugs from memom and unnecessary money from poppop. im from a huge mess of all girls...enough said! im from big italian dinners with family, neighbors, friends and anyone else around. im from the delicious leftovers we eat for a week! im from "potatoes in the oven" and whatever little gran felt like throwing in there. im from wednesday morning breakfast at big grans...you better come hungry! im from biscotti, zuccharini, pizzelle and the thousands of homemade christmas cookies. im from lasagna, cavatelli, pasta fagioli and sopressata, yum! im from many generations of amazing meatballs, but dont try to find a recipe! im from homemade gravy (not sauce. sauce has no meat!) duh...everyone knows that. im from edgarton memorial school, where miss grochowsky made you never want to go. im from "ceramics" class, where my mom got [and still uses] those awful decorations we made. yuck! im from saint rose of lima churchs christmas eve childrens mass with the barbaglis, browns, boniellos, gallos, trommellos, and wescotts (even hope!). none of us are children anymore, but maybe soon well bring our own. im from the five am shift at the newfield luncheonette, serving 95cent coffee that came with a 5dollar dip. im from meeting my first "real" boyfriend working there...for his dad. im from the tiny newfield library and the wonderful women who bought more books when i read them all. im from bike rides all over town, the "mystery" of rena ober, and the weekly newsletter. im from hearing the chief call and wipeout in my sleep after four years of varsity cheerleading. march, march forever! im from whoever had the brilliant (?) idea to go camping after the junior prom. im from choreographing a mr. buena pageant that got my best guys to be hot for the holidays. im from what it means to be a token and finding the best friends ill ever have. im from the sixth floor of tyson hall and everyone who made our freshman year at west chester university absolutely "unreal". youre all in the book. im from room618, the triple, where i found out that it is possible for me to live with roomates. im from 307south new street, where those roomates turned into sisters. im from a love of reading and writing that has only grown stronger at wcu. im from recitation hall, learning the fundamentals of the best job ever! im from darigan and jagielo, livoy and diggins, flanigan and wilkey: my best textbooks. im from harris schools seventh graders, the reason i get out of bed every single day. its all for you. [[im from 221south walnut street, our first home together. im from always doing the laundry if you promise to always wash the dishes. "youre so much better at it." im from starting out looking for fun and ending up finding the person to spend a life with. im from looking forward to our wedding, our home, our children, our life.]] im from countless summer days and nights spent in sea isle city... the land of the free and the home of the sunkissed. im from growing older, but not necessarily growing up. not yet. im from always finding time in a cluttered life to get home for everything from birthdays to funerals, broken hearts to dance recitals. always. im from a family that will always love and support me... no matter what i do. im from a life that anyone would be lucky to have. i feel lucky. im from new jersey, where the big hearts outweigh the big hair. give me a chance. 

20questions

how come no matter how much time has passed or whats changed, sitting at a local bar with good friends laughing about the past neverrrr gets old? i feel like i talk about my friends alot but theyre such a central part of my life. some days i feel as though i miss them more than id ever miss a boyfriend/husband. its just such a different kind of bond.

i went to college with a girl who pretty much seperated her life into years. she had her home/high school friends who she left there. i mean, left there. never laughed on the phone for hours during all night study sessions. never called to tell the craziest story from the frat party the night before. never started making plans for thanksgiving break in about august. just didnt really feel the need to bring them into her "present." she was satisfied leaving them in the "past" and making new. what?! thats so insane to me. as we went through college, she was one of my good friends. we did the laughing and the crying and the planning and the craziness. we did the long phone calls and the good times. and now we dont. so i guess im in that second chunk. im in her more recent past, but still her past. and thats fine. whatever makes her happy. i still see her occasionally and cherish the times we get together. shes a great friend and im lucky to have had her. shes got her new set new. the new boyfriend and the new work friends. and shes perfectly happy going out to fancy dinners and drinking expensive cocktails talking about grownup stuff.

any maybe im immature. scratch that, sentimental. i enjoy fancy dinners and expensive cocktails just as much as the next girl. i love getting dressed up in my new heels and dancing the night away with all the money i made that week. once in awhile. who in their real life does that stuff everyday? dont you need to throw on sweatpants and watch monday night football with your best friends (and about a dozen retired townies)? dont you need to drink beer from a can and play childrens rainy day games at the bar? [fyi: if youve never played 20questions about people circa your high school years, you must try it. preferably somewhere in public. guarantee you or one of your friends will spit their drink clear across the bar at some point in the game. "have you ever slept with him?" "no." "are you sure?" "yes you bitch im counting that as two questions." hahahaa] i think where youre from defines alot of who you are. and where im from has never been about money and upscale things. its been about love and laughter and doing things that make you smile. and thats exactly what i did last night.

pretty sure i havent laughed that hard in awhile. and im positively sure that last night is what will keep me smiling until the next time.

o captain, my captain

ever seen dead poets society? if not, you must. its one of those movies you could see a million times. and each time, you laugh. you cry. your heart breaks. your heart swells. you feel as though everyone in the world should be touched by the movie, as you have been, time and again. you find something new to cherish and appreciate every time. and as a teacher, you find something even more relateable than last time. im thinking of doing something quite ballsy. i want to open that world, that feeling i treasure, to about a hundred seventh graders. the movie is a pretty borderline pg. probably should be pg13. i may have to send home permission slips in order for the kids to watch it. and this may be a huge mistake.

its tough to open up. even as an adult. im petrified. what if they hate it? what if they dont get it? what if they do get it, but think its lame? what if they dont even show it the respect to find out if its good? i know its silly, but what if they ruin it for me? im afraid theyll prove to me that its just a movie, and that a teacher cant make that much of a difference. that poetry cant turn lives around like that. that the passion and creativity expressed is not realistic. im afraid theyll take away the hope and belief that surrounds the experience for me.

oh my, i think im going for it. i already have a poetry bulletin board set up, with famous quotations from the movie and various famous poems they all should at least read and know. and i fully plan on standing on my desk four times on wednesday to recite walt whitman's poem that started this all. lets just hope they all get up on their desks with me, in order to see things from a different perspective. wish me luck. updates will be forthcoming.

operation: looneytunes

 i find the following to be a pretty accurate representation of my life. my current state of insanity remains intact. these are probably definitely some of the reasons why.


a: i did, for a fact, google "flag football rules" approx five minutes ago. im forced to question my entire gym class career. my homeroom has gym one day a week and the teacher (despite being quite the fossil) manages to teach flag football. how do i not know how to play this game? i can play pingpong and complete six minute abs with the best of them, but yet ive never been taught the cardinal rules of flag football. wussy buena gym class. i feel deprived. ok ok heres the deal. i know i had the option to learn flag football in gym. but thats just it. they gave us a choice. individually work out in the weight room, play girly games like badminton, or get sweaty and most likely heavily injured playing rough games in the middle of a school day. uhhhhh im sorry gym curriculum? im a fourteen year old girl. what you do you think is going to happen here?

b: the reason behind the googling lies in the fact that i am playing flag football next thursday. yes, ill give you a minute to compose yourself. i imagine the picture in your head will not even do justice to exactly how ridiculous ill look that day. to be honest, im petrified. i watch quite a bit of football (go ravens!) and im pretty sure i know the rules. but i have never in my life played flag football. teacher vs. student "turkey bowl" for charity. and i think im kind of a crazy person. i cannot play a game where i have to just "play nice" and rip a belt off of someone to win. pshh this is so not my game. and how do i feel about losing? lets just say im not a big fan. and i feel as though were going to lose. not on principle, because theyre kids and its for a good cause and blah blah. but because we are actually, hands down, going to be terrible. damn its hard being an adult. on a positive note, it should be absolutely freaking hilarious.

c: dont ever ask a group of seventh graders what a pseudonym is. they dont know. and dont continue that ridiculousness by asking four classes of seventh graders, hoping that one of them will know. they wont. and when you finally explain that a pseudonym is a catchier, often shorter version of an actor/author's name, dont embarass yourself by talking about how cool it is. and giving example after example of some of the worlds most untouchable writers and their pseudonyms. seventh graders dont think its cool. they will respond with something along these lines: "uhhh yea, real cool (sarcasm). so is that like when miley cyrus turns into hannah montana?" yikes. really guys? youre only frame of reference is hannah freaking montana? thats my balloon of hope popping.

d: i saved this for last because i think it proves just how looney i get during the school year. ive been contemplating the relevance of this statement for about a week and i think its in the final stages. im ready to present this idea. its okay, i think im a wack, too. i think that adults should have dress up. halloween is not nearly enough time in my life to dress in ridiculous things. being student council chair this year is really coming in handy. so many more spirit weeks in the works than last year. how old am i? twelve? also, im really looking forward to putting those little black football lines on my face next thursday. like realllly looking forward to it. i think thats half the reason im playing. oh god. what is my life coming to?

the mean reds

holly:  you know those days when you get the mean reds?

paul:  the mean reds, you mean like the blues?

holly:  no. the blues are because youre getting fat and maybe its been raining too long. youre just sad, thats all. the mean reds are horrible. suddenly, youre afraid and you dont know what youre afraid of. do you ever get that feeling?

paul:  sure.

holly:  well when i get it, the only thing that does any good is to jump in a cab and go to tiffanys. calms me down right away. the quietness and the proud look of it. nothing very bad could happen to you there. if i could find a real life place that would make me feel like tiffanys, then id buy some furniture and give the cat a name.

nmw for life

i spent the weekend visiting my bff e. shes one of those people that time or distance dont change. we realized weve been friends for ten years. throughout that time, weve been at polar opposite ends of the friendship spectrum. inseperable, spending close to every waking moment together. and nonexistent, being too busy or far to even speak for weeks at a time. but no matter what, we pick right up where we left off. im lucky to have quite a few people in my life with that kind of friendship. as you grow older, i think its exactly what you need. lives change, people move, relationships happen, jobs interfere, and plans are made. if those people are central enough to your life, you keep them. in whatever shape they come. but being with those friends reminds me of just how much hasnt changed.

as i was leaving, e gave me a composition book. but this is not just any notebook. its the "note notebook." our totally unnecessary but addicting line of communication from highschool. my junior year i believe. and while its mostly the rants and raves of the men, ahem boys, in our lives, its also really incredible. it chronicles one of the most pivotal years in my life. i know, im only 24. how can i even have a pivotal year? but if i did, that was definitely it. its the year i got my license, the year i brought my little sister into the world of high school, the year i lost a friend because of a stupid mistake i made (and spent way too long to take responsibility for), the year i decided what i wanted to do with the rest of my life, the year i read my alltime favorite book, the year i broke my entire left foot. and here it is folks, admitting for the [blog]world to see, the year i fell in love.

there are many recurring themes in the note notebook. the boys, boys and more boys. weekend plans. daily high school gossip. girls we hated the most that week. discussion of the work we should have been doing. and the fact i cant hide when its staring me in the face from eight years ago, the drama that was my first real love. in the words of the original (and way better) willy wonka, its all there, black and white, clear as crystal. i even cringe now. honestly, its difficult to type. i keep stutter typing [is that a term?], backing up and erasing it over and over. its like, even when i dont say it out loud, i hate having to admit to myself just how much it meant to me. how much it still means. and about how, after all this time, i still dont have the first idea what to do about it. ive been trying to write about it for a while now. and even this time, its not working. i feel like i have a pretty good hold on my life. my career. my family. my friends. my future. my everything. at least, everything but this. ugh. its just yucky, thats all.

we CAN make a difference

my students dont have much. they dont wear expensive clothes or shoes or accessories. the clothes they do wear arent always clean and are hardly ever new. their parents dont have flashy cars. some of them dont even have jobs. they dont have houses, theyre lucky to live in an apartment way too small for their family. their mouths drop in awe whenever i tell them i have tickets to a sporting event. they dont go on vacations. some of them arent even able to afford a class trip. most of them dont have supportive families. like i said, they dont have much.


before this turns into a sob story, thats not why im writing. theyre incredibly strong kids. theyve seen and been through things ill probably never experience in my lifetime. they arent all living in squalor with nothing to eat and nowhere to sleep. there are children out there, much too close by to think about, that are way worse off than mine. and apparently, my students know that. 


the past two weeks have been the school canned food drive. we "can" make a difference. everything gets donated to a local shelter, where unfortunately, some of my students have stayed in the past when times were rough or their family was in between homes. at the beginning, i challenged them to give back. to realize that there are people out there who need it more than they do. i talked it up in many different ways and nothing seemed to get through. then one day last week, dk brought in cans. a couple dozen cans. he said "i told my ma what you said, miss l. about other people needin a helping hand and how good it feel bein the ones to give it to em. she said youre real nice. and she wanna help." needless to say, i cried. and i realized something. i was asking these kids to give when they barely had anything to give, but where was my contribution? i was all comfortable standing up on my soapbox asking them to help out others, but was i? so last tuesday i told my homeroom id match the amount of cans they brought in. 


there are currently 98 cans sitting in my classroom. the drive isnt over until friday. my kids already told me that its okay, its way too much to match. but a deals a deal. and if these kids, who have barely anything can do it, then i can shell out whatever it costs to match their cans. yea, we win a pizza party or something. but i think what will be most meaningful is the looks on their faces when i bring in about a million cans on friday. people let them down everyday. i refuse to be one of those people.  ive also planned something special for friday afternoon. they love being read to. stories, poems, articles, anything! so during our end of the week homeroom meeting (responsive classroom approach), im going to read them one of my favorite quotes. it has definitely rang true for me in the past, but because of these kids, its literally now giving me the chills....


"for attractive lips, speak words of kindness. for lovely eyes, seek out the good in people. for a slim figure, share your food with the hungry. for beautiful hair, let a child run his fingers through it once a day. for poise, walk with the knowledge that youll never walk alone. 
people, even more than things, have to be restored, renewed, revived, reclaimed. and redeemed and redeemed and redeemed. never throw out anybody. remember, if you ever need a helping hand, youll find one at the end of your arm. as you grow older, you will discover that you have two hands. one for helping yourself, the other for helping others." -- audrey hepburn

the [heart] of the matter

the yankees are currently "the best team in baseball". yea, well with the kind of money they shell out, they should be. so they won 100 games this season? as i said before, they should be. everyone knows money is the dealbreaker, especially in todays society. its all about who can spend the most. and thats not philadelphia. 


ive been a phillies fan for as long as i can remember. and for most of that time, we didnt win much. but ill tell you something. the entire time, the fans kept up the faith. the phils were pretty damn terrible when i was in college. but that didnt stop us from donning all our gear, packing in a car, tailgating with a bazillion fans, taunting the rivals, and cheering our faces off the entire time. and most of the time, the phils lost. but the next time we ventured to a game, we did it all over again. isnt that the point of being a sports fan? holding out hope that one day, hopefully in your lifetime, your team will surprise you. and maybe surprise isnt the right word. because you have that hope and that faith. you know all along they can do it. but when it finally happens, it just blows you out of the water. and thats what happened to phillies fans last year. i honestly didnt think id see a phillies world championship series in my lifetime. but i did. and they killllled it!


so maybe they wont do it this year. maybe they wont beat the best [cough] most expensive team in major league baseball. and jesus, maybe they will! but you better believe that ill be right there next year, waving my rally towel til my arm is about to fall off. with the rest of the phans. the people who know what truly matters. heart. and our hearts are bigger than any paycheck the state of new york can sign.