mindless meditation

today i am thankful for the serenity prayer. it has been running on constant loop, weaving itself through the insanity of my thoughts since this morning. and im not sure what i need most - the serenity, the courage or the wisdom. maybe all three.

spoke too soon

apparently im not quite as good as i thought at being thankful. or at least not at posting it daily. ha. here goes a little catchup -

11: the concentration level and effort of my students on the first "real" benchmark.
12: sleep. and lots of it.
13: catching up with an old friend. and surviving an awkward night.
14: our new friend bern, who taught us a fabulous dice game. and being at the beach.
15: not having the hangover i expected. and my good friend l for sending a picture message worth a thousand words. also, a 10% proficiency increase, booyah.
16: a facebook status with a quote that rings true to me - "be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle."

wish i could write something of substance. however, this large stack of UNgraded papers calls.

piece of cake [or pumpkin pie?]

this whole "being thankful" thing is quite easy. its the daily blogging that trips me up. i often fantasize about what it would be like to be such a sought-after writer, that i could be paid an embarassingly large amount of money to just blog everyday. and then i come back to reality and come to terms with the fact that id be fired, day2. i try, i really do. it just doesnt happen. so im yet again, catching up.

8: finding out that the 8th graders (my students from last year) entered the year at 90% proficiency in reading! wahoo!
9: the kids in my homeroom - again i know, for making mature and thoughtful decisions when i allowed them to choose their own class seats. baby steps :)
10: coworker s for joining me in the "land of misfit toys" and throwing herself into "our" kids as much as i do. i am lucky for her kindred spirit. also, my sister k for baking my three batches of muffins, knowing id be home too late to feel like it. oh and how dare i forget, baked macaroni for dinner. my favorite!

would love to stay and chat, as i am thoroughly enjoying my season of thankfulness, but im busy preparing for my favorite weeks of the curriculum year. did you know that there are over 900 published versions of the cinderella story? aha i bet not. so clearly i have my work cut out for me if i can accurately address this phenomenon.

wooed by the weekend

after spending a refreshing and relaxing weekend with an old friend, i found myself letting loose a little. i couldnt have predicted how good it felt to make the trip on whim, not have any definite plans, and leave hour upon hour to just live. i was sad to leave, but already looking forward to the next visit. with so many people coming into and out of my life, its nice to spend time with someone who knows me so well, even after all these years. it felt fabulous to have an unbiased opinion on many of the topics swirling through my everyday. and, as always, she was incredibly supportive and even made me crack a smile or two.

as more time passes, i find that i am looking more carefully at the things i am thankful for. and on a positive note, they are much more abundant than i had expected. i know im overlapping days here, but this weekend reminded me of how thankful i am for e's friendship. amongst other things...


4: the innocence of a kindergartner who thought her older brother in detention was my boyfriend. and a much-needed night to catch up with two of my best friends.
5: not a single room207 student being reprimanded once on the field trip. and as a result of that pent up energy, a picture that is worth way more than a thousand words (i cant remember the last time i laughed so deeply).
6: the sweet boy at the gas station washing my windows while i waited,without being asked. an amaaazing dinner at crush. finding a purple, childs small, ray lewis jersey instock and purchasing :)
7: a ravens WIN witnessed live in bmore. and the avoidance of a chance meeting with ex d that would most likely have done more damage than good. the extra hour of life gained by daylight savings. oh how i love you, roman clock.

with the start of a new week looming, i am confident that there will be an overload of things i am thankful for in the everyday. i just hope that they will carry me through the uncertainty.

one a day's

with all that is swirling around me, i am trying to keep perspective. since it is the season of giving and appreciating what you have, i plan to try my damnedest to stay positive. and the best way i know how, is as soon as i start to sliiiide down into that slump, i pick myself back up with all that is good about my life. and while it isnt perfect, there are way more than 25 things im thankful for. so this should be easy. i missed a few days, so i will attempt to backtrack. and moving forward, keep track of at least one thing i can say thank you for each day.

1: the boys in my homeroom, who stayed after school to pack up my things and chase/hunt/contemplate the trapping of a mouse that had taken residence in my classroom, while i sat on my desk and cried.
2: a short break from the bedlam of 7th grade, replaced by an inservice workshop that was actually useful and incredibly informative, not to mention new!
3: kind words from a coworker (in appreciation and acknowledgement of all the hard work ive put in schoolwide over the last few weeks) as well as an offer to help transport canned goods to a local shelter in the bed of a truck much larger than mine. also, on a totally unrelated subject - bruce springsteen's born to run on the radio, belting that out never gets old.

it will be a happy november :)

just keep swimming

drowning. its my biggest fear.

for as long as i can remember, the idea of being completely submerged frightens the living daylights out of me. im not sure when it happened, or why, but im deathly afraid of water. i cant swim and ive never been quite sure if that is a result of this fear or just supplemental to the reasons why. i took lessons, at a locally renowned place. i remember holding my nose in the bathtub and ducking underwater to practice. i can even picture the pool, from the smells to the sounds, as if it were yesterday. my heart clenches everytime i think of the dreaded deep-end test, where some lifeguard on a power trip made me tread water for two minutes. i still feel like those two minutes lasted a lifetime.

and thats where it gets blurry. somewhere in between my bubble bath escapades and now, something changed. i own approximately 30 bathing suits, none of which see much water time. and the sight of the ocean as a whole takes my breath away. i havent stepped foot in a pool in ages and im still weirdly afraid ill fall asleep in the tub, submerging myself into doom. i thought id get over it. thought id learn to swim. thought that one day id walk smack into the water and turn into a jellyfish. thought my heart wouldnt start beating a mile a minute at the thought of being dunked. no dice.

and, bear with me, this is where it starts to get worse. i went to the carwash with my sister k and friends the other day. and sitting in the car, listening to the water slosh against the sides, i made the mistake of looking out. it was like my worst fear realized. all i could see was water. out every window. crashing down onto the sunroof. growing louder and faster with each second. something was said and i snapped out of it. but not before noticing my clammy hands, my echoing heartbeat, my catch in breath. what was i so afraid of? what is it about drowning that i just cant seem to get over?

so i started thinking. its more than just drowning. its the feeling of helplessness. the realization that a mere minute ago, i had control. and in the blink of an eye, it was gone. and theres probably not a damn thing i can do to get it back. its the feeling of loss. of everything thats swirling down the drain with me as i go. its like i can watch and catalogue it, but never reach out to grasp it and make it mine again. its the feeling of want. that aching need for breath, for safety, for comfort. for the calm i felt just minutes before. its as if so many thoughts and feelings are going through my head at once, and nothing is clear.

well, maybe one thing is. im drowning. i may not be underwater, running out of breath. but i am most certainly drowning. there is no end in sight, no easy solution, no fast fix. there is no way to stop it or hop off the train. so im trying to push on and get better. for lack of a better analogy, and because i just dont have the strength right now, im trying to swim through this. because there is no other way. it feels like everytime the light breaks through, that big hand of fate comes through the water and crowns my head, pushing me further down without letting me get any air. im just hoping someday soon ill reach the surface. because im running out of air.

into the rabbit hole

alice: theres no use trying. one cant believe impossible things.
white queen: i daresay you havent had much practice. when i was your age, i always did it for half an hour a day. why sometimes, ive believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast!

[through the looking glass - lewis carroll]

i know its not anywhere near breakfast. but im quite overwhelmed at the moment. and i need to believe in something. since the possibilities are currently nowhere near endless, im choosing to follow alice into the rabbit hole and believe in the impossible. go big or go home, right?

1. i believe all highways and bridges en route to work will be free of traffic and i will arrive to find ample parking.
2. i believe not one 7th grader will sass me. and that all 7th graders will be emotionally moved by edgar allan poe's "the bells".
3. i believe i can make it through my day without coffee.
4. i believe the darlings in my homeroom will refrain from calling one another "ugly", bring in multitudes of canned goods and act appropriately all day long.
5. i believe i will not give a single thought to and/or check facebook of and/or hold pointless conversations with gentlemen who are clearly not interested in dating me.
6. i believe the next few days will fly by and the weekend will feel decades long.

the saga continues. . .

ive had a little bit of blogger's block lately. it seems that every ounce of my energy goes to making sure my homeroom doesnt end up suspended on a regular basis. and honestly, i couldnt be happier. my kids are tougher than ever, but im truly getting a kick out of them. browsing my unpublished works, i noticed i had quite a few "gems" from last year, waiting to be posted. so in honor of my favorite little hoodrats, heres a little seventh grade love:

the second half of last year proved to make me truly earn my paycheck. as the students got more comfortable in their own skin (and my classroom), the jokes started to flow...

just a few short days before my birthday, m told me i looked damn good for 30. i reminded him that "damn" was not in our vocabulary and i was NOT 30. he took that as his cue for a chance. oh please.

although we butted heads multiple times last year, one of the sassiest girls in my homeroom also made for a few good laughs. especially this one in february:
me: have you ever heard someone say "you shouldnt throw stones if you live in a glass house?"
k: ummmmm 50cent?
me: seriously?! and "if you got a glass jaw you should watch your mouth" right?
k: holy shit, miss l. you so hood.
me: oh yes, im very hood. finish reading.

spring fever brought the good times. never have i ever gotten punched in the jaw by an eighth grader. ohhhhh wait...

me: what do i reallyyy hate?
various students: bad spellers. traffic. techno music. red nailpolish. chili dogs for lunch. math. people who dont recycle. brown markers. diet soda. emily dickinson poems.
me: whoooa really?
f: face it, miss l. you be drinkin haterade for breakfast.

things got really ridiculous in may. my kids were slowly "checking out" for the school year. on one particular day, the students had to use vocab words in original sentences to show proof of their meaning. t wrote - the young money crew is goin thru tumultuous times. when i asked for an explanation, he said "times is tough. weezys locked up." needless to say, i accepted it. and it was times like those, that i found myself questioning whether i had checked right out with them.

not to be outdone, june went out with a bang. a new student j, obviously on leave from whatever school she was currently failing the 7th grade at and vacationing with us in hopes that wed pass her along unknowingly (happens more than youd like to think), brightened my day with her adorable charm and good manners. sarcasm much?
me: you need to try and fit your life into a 6 word memoir. for example, william shakespeare said "to thine own self be true."
j: im done. (counts on her fingers) "i hate language arts and you."
me: hmmm. (counting on mine) "enjoy your big fat F, sweetie."

after a funfilled summer of dreams, it was back to reality. i was faced with a new crop of lovelies and quite worried that the pure unadulterated entertainment of seventh grade wit would not measure up to the previous year. not to worry. this years crew is already giving me a run for my money.

as of the second day of school, my homeroom was on cafeteria probation (i couldnt explain that if i tried). a week later, they were banned from music until they could "stop using the f word," j told the secretary to kiss her chocolate ass and j took off his pants in my classroom.

i will say this. although the kids in the past have been funny, my new crew blows them out of the water with one-liners.
j: youre comin to our homecoming game right?
me: yes i promised.
j: well we got you something you might need. (t hands me an umbrella)
me: please explain?
t: just want you to be prepared when we make it rain out there.

a few days later, j hands me a bunch of mums, freshly picked [aka stolen]. when i asked what they were for, he told me his mother instructed him to always bring a date flowers. however, i think he was confused. his idea of a date was the following days detention. inappropriate?

GOD I LOVE MY JOB!  :)

barbie and ken 101

wow. one of my kids introduced me to rafael casal today and my jaw is permanently dropped. my student j prefaced the piece of slam poetry with the fact that "its not school appropriate" which is usually my first question. he asked if it would still be okay to tell me about the poem. obvi i said yes. if something in the world of writing was moving my not-so-motivated, never engaged boy, then hell yes id take a listen. if youre not familiar, slam poetry is often considered a more urban look at poems. often the poetry bounces back and forth between structured form and free verse, bordering on a freestyle rap. slam poetry is incredibly popular in the internet world and hipster areas where coffee shops feature local slam poets as a kind of open-mic night. i am a huuuge fan of slam poetry, especially for my kids. their worlds change when i introduce them to this much more approachable version to the reality of poetry. and after multiple youtube vids and quite a long search for the transcript, i bring you the man who just may have gotten j to get involved and stay awake during language arts. thank you, mr. casal. youve made one more kid realize the power of words.

[barbie and ken 101 by rafael casal]

sometimes i feel like im sittin in the back row of barbie and ken 101,

a class we are all in but never seem to learn from.

some general ed requirement for students of american culture.

one that convinces even the brightest of young women 

that sex is survival of the thinnest.

and im sick of this education that doesnt serve our best interests.

my teacher has no face;

she is every revlon model women have ever chased.

her lectures come through magazines in beauty shops, ad campaigns.

shit, just turn on your tv. this just in!

a skewed perspective for todays youth:

yall ladies aint thin enough, fellas aint trim enough.

wana be sexy? yall dont go to the gym enough. 

cut to commercial.

come on, just come tune into our maintenance team,

convince you youre ugly 

then tell you how to fix it with maybelline.

perpetually started by these dolls marketed in the late 50s named

barbie and ken. 

hence the class im in. are you following? shit didnt end.

they keep moldin barbie to fit new trends.

maybe next theyll have club hoppin barbie

with thongs as accessories;

video hoe barbie, abusive boyfriend sold seperately;

underage barbie, kobe bryant included;

or 9/11 victim barbie and ken is proud to get recruited.

problem is all these teachings are womans decay and im startin

to worry cause my girl is up front and shes getting an a.

this is where i start getting pissed off, okay?

when the f did it become all about "tuckin in the gut,

i gotta get a bigger breast, shit i wana fit a little better in a dress,

so let me get a little skinny, gotta git into an itty bitty size slimmer

so i liven up the chest" please.

teacher, teacher i wana give my oral presentation

cause i have a problem with the class, and matter of fact,

i have a fat ass grudge with the whole administration.

youre the reason my girl wont eat in front of me in restaurants,

the reason she thinks that shes overweight in over ten spots.

less gut, less pudge, less lunch, less real.

more looks, more love, more barbie appeal?

f barbie and ken.

my future daughter will never play with them.

youre the reason bleedin fifteen year old girls arms are slit.

you made twelve year old girls think skinny was a compliment.

and now its too late.

i cant write my way through this bathroom door

so i raise my hand in class cause i cant stand it anymore.

teacher, teacher your lectures all backwards.

you got mothers and daughters forgetting what matters.

cause above tits, ass, lips, legs and uggs

the most attractive women are the ones who dont give a f.

so screw your teachings, your lessons and plans,

you skewed sick distant relative of the man,

your plan for brainwashing my baby? i reject.

im walkin out of this class and i will proudly take my f.

a little respect

ladies, let me give you some advice. you can throw all your stupid fucking chick lit, self-help, why-doesnt-he-love-me books out, because this is all you need to know: men will treat you the way you let them. there is no such thing as "deserving" respect; you get what you demand from people. if you demand respect, he will either respect you or he wont associate with you. its really that simple.  [tucker max - i hope they serve beer in hell]

why is it that so many times in life, we claim that we are demanding respect, when in fact, thats not the least were willing to accept? i know im just as guilty of this as the next person. but my question is why. what makes us think that a little respect, or a different persons opinion of respect, or sometimes no respect at all, is enough? ive read the silly books tucker talks about. ive gone through the stages. the denial, the realization, the depression, the optimism, the empowerment. ive been beat down and pulled back up, ready to start again and find someone who is, in fact, just that into me. and faster than you can say "all you need is love," i throw myself back into the dating game, absolutely positive that mr. right is just around the corner, waiting to be scooped up by newly confident, freshly romanticized me. and yet, weeks or even months later, i find myself nose to toes in another book that promises to bring out the best version of me whos ready to find the one.

tucker has a valid point. men will absolutely treat you the way you let them. i know i often accept less than what i think i deserve, falling back into the idea that there really is no such thing as perfect. and if its good now, or it was good at one point, or it has the potential to be good, why ruin a "good" thing? but is that really my definition of good? and if it is, then dont i want better? i know i deserve someone who will treat me well. but aside from that, i can deserve deserve deserve til im blue in the face. it doesnt mean ill get it. i enjoy his use of the word demand. there is a world of difference between deserve and demand. by accepting the less than acceptable, i am lowering the standards of what i deserve. and im sure as hell not demanding anything at that point.

i spent a good portion of this summer, preaching about what i deserved, but not really demanding it. i learned alot about myself this summer, especially as a single girl. and to be honest, she scares me a little. single me is like a bipolar teenager. one minute im happy as a clam, skipping through life with a smile on my face and a vwl in hand. the next, im listening to van morrison on repeat and contemplating spending a week in bed. the extremes are almost too much. and i know im dramatic. always have been. doubt thats going to change anytime soon. and for the most part, i wasnt on opposite end of the looney bin spectrum. i was floating somewhere in the middle, figuring things out as i went. but in particular situations, i found myself way too close to the deep end.

i cant put my finger on why certain things bothered me more than others, only venturing to guess that you cant help how you feel. hopefully, ive cleared some of the clutter. but ive been struggling with it all for awhile now, and honestly, struggling with this post as well. i still dont feel like its finished or im "done" but will i ever be? i should be. tucker gives it to me straight. either he will respect me or he wont associate with me. ding ding, i think we have our answer. and ill be honest, theres not an overflow of respect going on over here, so i think you can imagine with path he chose. so why am i not done? hopefully, in posting, i will find some answers and rekindle my arena for letting my thoughts out. and with that, maybe ill find a solution. or at least put an end to some of this nonsense swimming around in my head. somethings got to give, right?