The Notebook

Sidewalk Hogs

2008-01-05T13:00:00.000-08:00

I think I am a fairly courteous person. I try to be aware of other people around me when I am out and about. I don't block the aisle at the grocery store, and I don't dawdle around when I'm shopping. Over the past two weeks, there have been at least three times, however, when I have wanted to stop and shout not-so-nice words at complete strangers, and yes, once, I even wanted to just run headlong into someone.

Over the past two weeks, I have encountered people I like to call Sidewalk Hogs. While they can be found travelling alone, they most often travel in pairs or threes. These are people who walk so that they are taking up the entire width of the sidewalk. While this is annoying when you are coming up behind them, I don't mind so much because they can't see that you are coming. When you are coming towards them, that is when I get upset. See, these people don't move over when they see someone running towards them. They just keep walking. It means that I am forced to run off the sidewalk into the grass, or the snowbank, or the mud, or the puddle, depending on the weather. A few times I have actually had to stop and jump over, because I have waited too long to see if these people will extend me the courtesy of moving over so I can stay on the sidewalk. I notice this phenomenon mostly in the Winter, but it does happen all year around. I am sad to say that I really only notice this in Toronto. Up until now I have been patient, as in, I have mostly just sighed and muttered under my breath. Pretty soon, I'm just going to hipcheck someone out of my way.

2008-01-03T12:20:00.000-08:00

I miss my students. I'm glad that I miss them, but am still a bit surprised. I think its because I'm 'used to them'. I'm used to seeing them everyday, listening to their crazy banter, watching them shove stuff into their lockers, trying to be patient as they tell me that they forgot we had Math now (even though we have Math EVERY DAY AFTER RECESS). Its sorta like that song from My Fair Lady, "I've Grown Accustomed To Her Face". I didn't really ever get this song before. But I understand it, in part now. I've grown accustomed to my students. I spend so much time with them that when I don't see them five days a week for two weeks, I miss them. I will try to remember this on Monday morning as I drag myself into my classroom.

A lesson in humility

2007-11-04T14:55:00.000-08:00

Today I ran the Angus Glen Half Marathon. I didn't train much for this race, I will admit. To be honest, I was riding on my ego which kept telling me that I ran a marathon without enough preparation, so I could certainly run a half. Little did I know what lay ahead of me. 21.1km of rolling hills in Markham in the country on a windy day. It was difficult. I didn't think I would finish. I dragged myself across the finish in 2:05, a full 12 minutes over my personal best for this distance. It felt like the hardest race I've done, following closely behind the last 10km of the marathon in May. I was thrilled to cross that finish line. It was a reminder and testament to me about hard work, determination, and perserverance. And I will take those things with me into the classroom tomorrow. I just might not be able to walk.

More than I could chew

2007-09-23T17:29:00.001-07:00

Tonight my goal was to run 15km. I decided I would do three loops around the 5km course we have mapped out near our apartment. I made sure that I was well-hydrated (yesterday, I was woefully dehydrated...), had a snack with some protein about an hour before I left, and then I set out. Well, 20 mins in I was feeling horrible. I told myself it would go away. It didn't. I ran the first 5km in just over 30 mins and had to pause for a minute as I began the second 5km loop. After the wave of nausea passed, I continued on at a much slower pace, finishing the second 5km loop in 32 mins. I knew I could not handle doing the third loop, but knew that I HAD to keep running. Heck, if people always stopped when something was hard, nothing would get done. (Certainly no one would run 42km consecutively). So I left the park and started on a short loop around our neighbourhood. I knew it wasn't going to be 5km, but I was determined to run for at least 1:30. At about 1:11, it was as if my body suddenly remembered that it had done this kind of thing before. The strides became a little easier, my focus got sharper. The last 4km was better, not easy mind you, but better and I finished at 1:28 feeling like I had accomplished something. I have a LONG way to go to get to the Half Marathon distance I'm going to run on Nov. 4, but at least its a start.

Meet the Creature

2007-09-20T17:45:00.000-07:00

Tonight was Meet the Teacher night. I was somewhat intimidated by this earlier in the day as I thought about all these parents who would be coming to meet me. I had a difficult afternoon and was feeling frustrated by my perceived ineffectiveness as a teacher. I was feeling discouraged and that, in somewhat, I had let my students down by my inability to keep my frustration to myself. And then the first parent came in, and then another and another. And as I talked to these parents and heard about my class from my student's perspective, I was encouraged. I left feeling uplifted and ready to face next week, armed with a bunch of new ideas to try.

Empowerment

2007-09-17T18:12:00.000-07:00

I made a discovery today. I've been struggling with one of my classes so far, so I decided to try a different approach today. I asked them to tell me what their experience had been, and what they were looking for in class. I noticed many of them had a negative attitude towards my subject, so I set about to discover why. I let their voices be heard. I considered what they had to say and I let them know I took what they had to say seriously. The difference was remarkable. Sometimes as a teacher, I forget that my students want to be heard as well. It bothers me that I needed to be reminded of that. I'm nervous to let my students have 'control' over things, because I don't expect them to take anything seriously. And then, I take the risk and they surprise me. Oh me of little faith.

2007-09-16T17:10:00.001-07:00

I ran 13km tonight. Its been a long time since I ran that distance. Since the marathon, I've maybe run 10km as a long run about 4 times, and have been content with just putting in 5 or maybe 6km at a time. I realized that I felt like I had lost my motivation to do the distance runs, so I decided that I would just bite the bullet and do it. I made myself plan a 13km run, and mentally said to myself that no matter how horrible it felt, I was doing the 13km. Many times I have planned to do a longer run, only to get through 5 km and say, well, that's good enough. I was proud of myself when I pressed the stop button on the watch after 1 hour and 18 minutes. It had felt good to feel the soreness in my legs again that only comes from running past an hour. The air was cool and crisp and I felt strong. I think I've found my motivation again. I'm not sure I'll ever run a marathon again, but I think the half-marathon distance is within my reach again. There's just something exhilirating to feel your body working together while your legs power you through the distance, up and down the hills, around the corners and down the straightaways.

2007-09-14T18:19:00.001-07:00

Many of my students assume that I am a first year teacher. And as such, they like to try all the classic "let's see what we can get away with" tricks that I've known about for a few years.

Example 1: I am at the front of band giving instructions. Student A and B are talking in the back. I pause and say, "A, stop talking". He looks at me and says, "I wasn't talking". Instead of arguing, I say "A, if this was my first year teaching, I maybe would have believed you. But, alas, this is my 6th year teaching (gasps escape randomly around the room, A looks shocked), I know you were talking. I saw you, I heard you. Nice Try".

Example 2: We're having our pictures taken today. One of my guys asks me to go get a drink. I know he wants to go the washroom to do something strange to his hair. I say no. He says, "but I'm really thirsty". I look him square in the eye and say, "No you're not. You want to go and get your hair wet so you can look funny in your picture". He looks shocked. He can't believe that I know this. He then trys the, "But I really have to go to the bathroom. Its an emergency!!!". I don't budge. He sighs and walks away.

To be continued....

Fig Tree Fix?

2007-07-17T18:47:00.000-07:00

My husband and I are 'fig-tree sitting'. See, our friend Rebecca has this fig tree. While we are staying at her place for the next year, I am also caring for her tree. I'm paranoid of killing the tree. Really, I don't have a good track record with indoor plants. Anyway, the tree has little bugs. It had them when Rebecca left, but she thought they were dying off. Alas. They are not. So, we contacted an expect, a friend of Rebecca's. She told us to Saran wrap the soil. Really, she said to wrap the dirt in plastic wrap. So we did. And I have to leave it on for a week. And then, what I'm guessing will happen, is that when I take the plastic wrap off, I will release a whole 'greenhouse' of little flying bugs into our apartment.

Barefoot Contessa?

2007-07-16T17:28:00.000-07:00

So, Sunday night I was feeling all homey and domestic and I decided I would roast a chicken. I've seen it done dozens of times on my fav cooking show The Barefoot Contessa. So, I got out my chicken, seasoned it, stuffed some lemons, garlic and rosemary into the cavity, and the rubbed some butter on the outside so the skin would brown up nicely. I calculated the roasting time and tucked into the oven. The actual roasting part went well. Its what has to happen next that was the problem.

I took the chicken out of the oven and tented it so it would 'rest' and let the juices redistribute. Its what every seasoned cook does, you know, let meat rest. After resting, I got out my big knife and set about to first, remove the legs. Hmmm...I'm cutting, but don't seem to be getting any where. Okay, well, then I decided to remove the breasts by cutting down along the spine. Hmmm..well, not a lot of success here. So I went back to the legs. Nothing. I grabbed another knife. Still nothing but a lot of moving around and juice going every where. In frustration, I went to my utensil drawer. Ah ha! A knife in a box with a picture of it carving a chicken. "Guarenteed to cut through bone!" Perfect. Here we go......nothing. absolutely nothing. I resorted to pulling the meat off.

So, the roasting was okay. Well, maybe a bit too much roasting occured. But, the end result? Disasterous chicken retrieving. At least I kept the bones to make soup!

The Dumbest Thing I Have Ever Done

2007-05-17T13:49:00.000-07:00

Last Sunday, I ran my first marathon. As I was moving slowly past the 33km sign I thought to myself, "This is by far the dumbest idea I have ever had." Seriously. It was the most excruciatingly difficult thing I have ever done. At about this point in time, I was contemplating stopping, or at least walking. I knew I would be dissapointed, but I didn't care. I was hot, tired, sore and well, tired. The only thing that kept me going was the thought that there were people who would be waiting at the finish line for an awfully long time if I didn't actually cross the finish line. So, I soldiered on. At about km 34, I caught up with and past my colleague who was also running. He was walking. I kept moving past him and encouraged him to keep on. And then, a short time later, he caught up with me and honestly, he was the only reason I kept going. We ran the last 5 km together--I ran the whole way. And when I crossed that finish line 4 hours and 22 minutes later, I was so sore I could barely walk. I burst into tears. I recieved my medal. And became a marathoner.

The sadness of this blog

2007-05-02T18:38:00.000-07:00

I have decided that I have a 'sad' blog. Yes, sad. Not like, "boo hoo" sad, but just, "I haven't posted here forever, sad'. I don't suppose I should, however, wish for more interesting and amusing things to happen to me.

What have I been spending my time doing, instead of blogging? Running, applying for jobs, and spending much too much time on *gasp* Facebook. Its an addictive sort of thing that you could spend hours on. Last night, for example, I spent a good hour looking up people I haven't spoken to in 15 years. I found them, I said hi. What more can I say? Can you really re-develop a friendship over Facebook?

My other past time? Going to Job interviews. Its a tiring occupation. Its nerve-wracking and its draining. Every time I go, I get excited--Maybe this the job for me! And then I sit around anxiously checking email and phone message to hear back. And inevitably--the let down. One time, you know, I WILL be the successful candidate. One time. If I don't give up before then.

Are you Russian?

2007-04-16T19:00:00.000-07:00

Okay, so last night I was out running in the early evening. It was cool and it was surprisingly quiet for the time of day and the weather. I pulled up to a sidewalk crossing, and as there was a car waiting there already, I waved them on.

Instead of pulling away, the guy rolled down his window and said to me, "Are you Russian?" I honestly had no idea what he was saying and so I smiled inanely and waved him on. He persisted, "What's your background? You look Russian. Are you Russian?". At this point, I can't believe I'm having this conversation, but I decided to remain polite. I said, 'Nope, just Canadian". And I smiled again, hoping he would move off.

And then, he said, "Are you single?" Am I what? Are you kidding me? Is this guy trying to pick me up? Was "Are you Russian?" his pick up line? This guy needs help. I gave a very definite NO to this question. He didn't get it. He tried another tactic, "Can I have your number? I would like to see you sometime. Are you single?" Really, this is too much. I firmly said, "Happily Married" and sorta flashed my rings. (I was glad I hadn't taken them off to run). At this he finally drove off.

Good Grief. What is this guy thinking? Do people actually hook-up this way? Have other girls fallen for, "Are you Russian?"

The Insanity continues

2007-03-30T19:33:00.000-07:00

Last Sunday morning, I woke up at 6:50am and the distinct thought, "I am voluntarily getting up before 7am on a sunday morning to run 30km with 5000 people. And not for free." And yet, despite the craziness of this thought, I was looking forward to it.

Last Sunday was my second running of the Around the Bay 30km Road Race in Hamilton ON. (Its the oldest road race in North America, you know. Yes, older than the Boston Marathon). I decided, since I was too hot last year that I would wear shorts. I'm pleased to say that I wasn't the only idiot freezing in shorts at the start line. In fact, I did see a guy go by in shorts and a t-shirt (and a super fashionable green garbage bag).

My goal was to run the first 20km at a 10 km/h pace, and I pulled it off, knowing that I would probably lose at least 5 mins off the pace during the last 10km, during which I had the lovely experience of running up and down hills in the surrounding Hamilton area. Let me tell you, I used to think running up the hill at Yonge and the 401 was tough, until I decided to conquer Hamilton's own "Heartbreak Hill" at km 25. (There's an ambulance at the bottom AND the top of the hill.) And yet when I got the top and looked at my watch, I realized that if I could just dig down a little more, I could break 3 hours. And I went for it. To the point that I actually sprinted the last km. I was suprised how much I had left in the 'tank.'

At the end of the race, you run down a super steep ramp into the darkness and then make a sharp turn to finish on centre ice. And as I barrelled down the ramp, I had the unceremonial thought that I would be the idiot who wiped out running down the ramp too quickly. But I didn't. I ran down that ramp at full-tilt, passed a few stragglers and crossed that line with a time of 2:58.04 . I'm not sure I've ever been so proud (except for the moment when I saw my dear friend Melissa crossing the finish line herself just a short time after.)

And so, the journey continues. Tonight, I registered to run the full-marathon in May at the Mississauga Marathon. If all you fans are looking for my name on the list, you will not find me. At least not under Melissa Dean. You will find me, though, under Dean Melissa, as when I filled out the form I entered Melissa as my last name. Thankfully, I entered my gender as F. It does mean though, that my race bib will proudly display the name DEAN on the front. Maybe this is a sign.....

Caught--in Professionally Speaking

2007-03-04T14:39:00.000-08:00

One the things I am most afraid of as an educator is that one day something I do in the classroom will be misconstrued and I will be amongst the reprimanded teachers in the 'blue pages' in the back of the Professionally Speaking magazine put out by the College of Teachers. (I admit that I do read those pages--mostly to see if anyone I know is listed there---so far, so good.) However, as I was innocently leafing through my copy earlier this week, I found myself face to face with a large glossy pic of someone I DO know being featured in the magazine--my dear friend Andrew. How exciting! I was so excited about it that I tore out the page and posted it on my bulletin board next to my desk (right beside my large HELP WANTED sign). Looking for a conversation starter? Post a page from a magazine of someone on your bulletin board.

Indoor Recess

2007-02-24T07:05:00.000-08:00

These are words that strike fear into the heart of every elementary teacher. For most of my teaching career, I wasn't really concerned with these two little words, having started my career at the highschool level. And now that I spend my day with Grade 4-6 students, every time the page comes on right before recess, we all pause and wait with anticipation. Will they go outside? Will there be reprieve from this madness? And if there isn't, how will we possibly survive the rest of this day?

On being Mrs. Dean again

2007-02-12T18:51:00.000-08:00

Some of you may be wondering, "When, exactly, did you cease to be Mrs. Dean in the first place?" Never fear, my friends. Technically, I have always been Mrs. Dean (at least for the last 3 years). I am refering to my recent acquisition of a Long Term Occasional job in which I get to be at the same school every day, have a staff of colleagues to chat with, laugh with, complain with and learn with, have students who know me and want to share with me, ask me for help and complain at me about assignments.

There is just something heart-warming about walking into a classroom and having someone look up and say, "Hi Mrs. Dean". They know me. I know them. I know their names. I know their friend's names. I know their schedule. I know the teachers. I know the answers to the questions. I am a recognized authority figure in the room. When you are a supply teacher, you are just "Teacher". Excuse me, Teacher? Are you a supply teacher? Yay, we have a supply teacher. Now, I am a member of the school community. And let me tell you, there is no greater feeling.

6 Weird Things about Me

2007-01-22T12:22:00.000-08:00

Okay...here it is.

1. I wish the characters on my favourite TV series were real people that I know and hang out with. (Not to say anything against the people that I know who ARE real.)

2. I am afraid of bees. Ironic for a Biology major. Seriously...I'm really afraid of them. Not just bothered by them, or worried about them...but AFRAID of them.

3. I have 3 irrational fears.
a) Bees. See above.
b) Being stuck in an elevator that eventually plummets to the basement.
c) Being abducted by a taxi driver.

4. I like to eat prunes. I mean, why not? They're tasty. They're sweet. They're portable. Prunes definitely have an undeserved reputation.

5. I watch Wrestling. Every week. And not because I'm forced to. My favourite wrestler is Shawn Michaels (aka The Heartbreak Kid). Following closely behind are John Cena, Carlito, Jeff Hardy and Kane.

6. I like to watch informercials (even the ones on the Golf Channel. In fact, they might be my favourites). Any of them. Even if I've seen them a dozen times. I would NEVER, however, EVER order anything off TV.

(Sorry, M. I don't have anyone to tag!)

2007-01-15T19:47:00.000-08:00

Today, I braved the elements.

I put on my winter layers.

I put on my running hat, my gloves and my running jacket.

I put on my watch.

I put on my running shoes.

And I stepped out in the slushy rainy mess and continued my journey as a runner.

And as I felt the pull of my lungs and the tightness in my calves as I battled snow-covered sidewalks and slushy messy roads, I felt the peace of God.

Being Bossed by a Four Year Old (or the Return of Spidermaning)

2007-01-12T15:35:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I did the unthinkable. I willingly returned to the JK classroom I began my supply teaching in. It was a memorable day--to the point that I was actually worried that the things happening in my room could get me written up in Professionally Speaking if the wrong person walked into the room at the wrong time.

On "Spidermanning Returns"
About 5 minutes into the first activity of the day, darling "Susie" stood up and said,"'Steven' is Spidermanning at me". I think my eyes actually rolled into the back of my head at this announcement. Why, you ask? Because last time I was in this room, I heard this complaint from Susie about once every ten minutes. It took me a while to figure out what Spidermanning was--mostly because I never witnessed this said Spidermanning. It turns out that Spidermanning is taking your hand and pointing your wrist at someone like you're shooting your Spiderman Web. This is indeed something to be concerned about!

On being bossed around by a four-year-old
The other joy of teaching JK is that when you are four, you believe that the world revolves around you--because chances are, at home anyway, most of your life DOES revolve around you--schedules, meals etc. Its only when you can look after everything by yourself does the world cease to be scheduled around you. By the end of the day I had had all I could take of these four-year-olds and yet it was at the end of the day that the bossing reached its peak. I was told in no uncertain terms that 'we are supposed to do the same things, not different things'. (Apparently, we had done 'different' things instead of the 'same things'.) Now, I have been a teacher long enough, and have had enough contact with young children to know that you can't really have a rational conversation (read: argument) with them about something all the time. And still, I found myself say in response to this complaint: "What did we do differently?" . When the complaint was repeated, I repeated my response, "What did we do differently? We didn't do anything differently". I actually was prepared to continue this argument. Then I caught myself--"Wait. Am I letting myself being bossed around by a four-year-old?"

The moral of the story is, I have the utmost respect for JK and SK teachers. I left that room at the end of the day completely drained. I had let myself be bossed around by four-year-olds. I dealt with bed-wetting. Every time someone made a noise in the room, everyone else had to make the noise too. Whenever someone had their hand up, I prefaced their statement/question with "If what you're going to say starts with someone else's name, I don't want to hear it." Still, its a big deal when "Jack" tells you that he's not going to be your friend. Forever.

Punks and Parking Spots

2007-01-09T18:08:00.000-08:00

As I arrived home from the Gym this afternoon, I turned the corner on our parking lot and saw that there was a small red hatchback parked in our parking spot. Anyone who has been with me in a car knows I am VERY particular about the rules of the road (or the parking lot) being followed. Thankfully, at this time, I was on foot and my husband was not expected back with the car for several hours. My immediate thought was to go up to my apartment, and write a not-so-polite note about the spot being an assigned spot that we paid our hard-earned $40 for each and every month and that YOU CAN'T PARK HERE. As I approached the car, however, I saw that there were two guys (I would call them punks) sitting in the car in my spot.

Immediately, I wondered what shady business these two were up to, being confident that they had been parked in the spot next to ours a few weeks ago in a different car just hanging out. This changed my plan, not wishing to confront these two guys taking advantage of my parking spot. I was determined however, to make sure they moved before Rob was expected home (which they did without my threatening note or any damage to their car inflicted by my husband's old golf clubs).

The point here is this: I get REALLY annoyed when people do things they aren't supposed to do and they get away with it. This is not a new affliction for me--it stems from my childhood. Technically, these two guys in their car were not bothering anyone. I did not need the parking spot at that time. Its the principle of the thing though--this is MY spot. I pay for it. You can't park there. There is a sign. Don't they see the sign?

I'm surprised how many signs people seem to ignore around here--STOP, YIELD, NO PARKING, 60 KM. Its my own hyper sense of justice. I am following the rules. I don't park where I'm not supposed to. I would never DREAM of parking my car in a designated parking spot when the owner is out. I would never do a U-turn in front of oncoming traffic causing someone else to slam on their brakes. And I would never intentionally drive to the end of a merge lane and force my way in.

But I don't think the punks in my parking spot would appreciate my sensibilities.

Asking for Help

2007-01-05T14:33:00.000-08:00

I am one of those people who prefers to wander around stores for hours before I stop someone who works at the store to ask for what I'm looking for. Case in point: Yesterday I was at Chapters with my friend Melissa looking for a book. It could not be found anywhere we looked. I kept looking in the same spots over and over, sure that I would find it. It was Melissa who approached a sales associate to ask if they had the book. Today, I went to The Future Shop to find a much-coveted copy of Grey's Anatomy: Season 2. I wandered through the store for about 15 minutes before breaking down and asking someone (only to be told that they were sold out.)

I'm not sure why I won't ask for help at a store. I'm comfortable being with someone else who askes for help, but I can't do it myself. I think it must be related to my reluctance to call people--even people who are very good friends of mine. I avoid calling people at all costs. I'm afraid to bother people. I think that is why I don't ask people for help at stores. I don't want to bother them. Never mind that its their job.

McDreamy

2006-12-28T17:07:00.000-08:00

Confession: I am addicted to the show "Grey's Anatomy". I started watching it innocently over the summer in re-runs and got hooked. Now, every Thursday evening I leave notes for Rob reminding him to tape the show. In fact, its the first show I've really liked enough to think about buying the episodes on DVD. Rob gave me Season 1 for my birthday and I am carefully rationing the episodes so I don't end up sitting down and watching all 9 episodes in one sitting. I'm not sure really why I'm so hooked on the show, although it may have something to do with McDreamy. Actually, I think its the quirkyness of the show-- a strange combo of ER and Friends, perhaps. With my birthday/christmas money I'm planning on buying Season 2--and then locking it away somewhere so that I don't watch it all at once!

2006-12-24T11:49:00.000-08:00

Today is my birthday. I am 28 years old. I remember when I was much younger, maybe 12 or 13 years old, I used to think about what my life would be like when I was in my 20s. I was certain that I would have long blonde hair that I would wear in a pony tail, I would drive a white Pick-up Truck (to pull my horse trailer, of course) , and I would have some sort of equine companion. (Funny, I never imagined any sort of human companionship....). I did not ever think that on my 28th birthday I would be sitting at my computer thinking about how great it would be to go for a run (even though I ran about 15 km yesterday) on such a gloriously sunny and warm Christmas Eve. That being said, my running shoes are calling.

2006-12-11T10:55:00.000-08:00

I am dismayed at my lack of blogging lately. Strange how I assumed that once I became a supply teacher I would have so much more time on my hands. Indeed, the only reason I have time right now to write this post is because I am taking a break from preparing for the interview I have this afternoon. The only reason I am able to do this is because I intentionally took today off to attend this interview.

I had hoped to fill my blog with amusing stories about my life as a teacher and as a runner, and as I read my friend's blogs I realize that my own blog is woefully inadequate. Perhaps I don't have the gift of writing like I thought I did, or at least the sense humour I thought I did. Mostly, I think its because the life of a supply teacher does not lend itself to amusing stories as often as I had hoped. Indeed, it more often generates stories of frustration and exasperation--not amusing fodder for this publication.

And as for my running, well, that too has become woefully inadequate. Far from my goal of running several times a week now that I'm supplying, I am running even less than I did before I took on this inconsistent job. It is disheartening as I feel my goal of running a full marathon in the spring slipping away, unless I start getting up at 5am every morning. Even today, I could be out running right now, and instead, I am sitting here. I'm getting mad just thinking about it.

Oh, how quickly we fall short of our own intentions.

I am a pizza

2006-11-27T17:56:00.000-08:00

Today I taught Primary Music. Fun times. Oh yes, I once again braved the doors of a JK classroom. When you teaching primary music as a supply teacher, its really all about trying to keep their attention for 40 minutes. You get them to sit in a circle, you have them tell you their names, you have them explain the songs to you, and you sing along to silly, silly songs, such as "I'm glad I have a nose". I sang "There was an Old Lady who swallowed a fly" 5 times today.

My favourite song, however, has got to be, "I am a Pizza". This catchy little ditty is about the making of a pizza that ends up on the floor upside down in the back seat of a car. I'm not sure when this song FIRST crossed my path (I have a vague recollection of my brother Josh singing it some time ago), but I do remember thinking it had to be the silliest song I'd heard of. I am a pizza? Come on. Whats that about? And yet, today, I sang "I am a Pizza" loud and proud (about 10 times actually).

Its fun to be a little kid sometimes.

Grade 8 Boys

2006-11-25T07:51:00.000-08:00

Disclaimer: This blog is a GROSS generalization of the male gender. As with all good generalizations, the exemptions to the rule are numerous.

I have come to the realization anew that Grade 8 Boys are entirely different creatures than the rest of us. Something happens to their brain that fateful September when they enter the Grade 8 classroom. Its like their brain just sort of, I don't know, shuts down or something. For the most part, all intelligence seems to be forgotten, or well, perhaps more often just suppressed in favour of being wildly ridiculous. What I want to know is, do they know how ridiculous they seem to the rest of us? Even the girls in the class look at them with a sort of blank confusion. I think most of them start recovery from this condition in grade 9 (notice I said START), and it seems to take most of them until Grade 12 to fully recover. There is hope, therefore, for my favourite group of Grade 11 gentlemen whom I had the pleasure of re-aquainting myself with this past week.

Teachers out there: this phenomenon is not restricted to your school and your students. It is a wide-reaching phenonmenon. Do not be alarmed. Just be....patient.

The Red Whistle

2006-11-22T05:03:00.000-08:00

I have a whistle.

It's a plastic, red whistle on a lanyard that I wear around my neck.
When I blow into it, it makes a very loud piercing noise.
And it will stop even obnoxious grade 8 baritone players in their tracks.

I love my whistle.

Kindergarten Cop?

2006-11-17T18:57:00.000-08:00

You know that adorable film starring Arnold S. as an undercover cop in a kindergarten room? Pretty fun. When I think of that movie I think of two scenes. One-- when the kids are running around wildly, eating other peoples lunches and generally reaking havoc. Two--when he has a headache and one of the kids pipes up and says," Maybe its a tumour". The Best Line: "Its not a Toomour." As I embarked on my first assignment as a supply teacher, this is what was going through my mind.

Today, I supply taught for a JK class. It was memorable. It was busy. It was tiring. It was...something I hope never do again, at least not for a little while. Thankfully, the teacher was well prepared and there were friendly and knowledgable staff to assist me. I am proud to say that there were no wild and crazy moments, but there were moments when I sat on the teacher's chair with a bunch of 4 year olds laughing and being loud and I thought, "What do I do now?" Despite my ineptitude, everyone left at 330 with a smile on their face. Many gave me a hug at the end of the day. I left feeling that I had accomplished something.

I wish I had some funny story to tell about these (mostly) adorable children, but really, that would mean that something had gone horribly, if laughingly, wrong. I'm sure that will be fodder for blogs to come.

My first day off

2006-11-14T09:37:00.000-08:00

Today is my first day off. I went to help in a friend's classroom. I went grocery shopping at 11am in the morning and didn't have to deal with a big line or a bunch of semi-confused shoppers. I'm writing on this blog. I'm thinking about getting my hair cut, and doing some laundry. I might go for a run, and I'm going to sit and read a book with a cup of tea. Today, I feel peaceful. I am enjoying my own time on a tuesday. I must admit to, however, a raised sense of anticipation as I wait for the board to call me with my employee number so I can get in the supply system. It is the reason why I want to go out--so I won't spend the day sitting here by the phone, waiting for it to ring.

I am making a list of things to do on my days off---for once, I'm going to do my christmas shopping well in advance, as well as make my own christmas cards. I'm going to write letters, clean my house and prepare unit plans for courses that I may or may not teach.

Most of all, I'm going to trust in something that I have been mulling over in the last few days. And that is the knowledge that Jesus has already provided for me; for US in this time of uncertainty. Jesus helped his disciples fish, and then invited them to breakfast, a breakfast that he had prepared already. He knew they needed provisions, helped them get some, and then invited them to partake of His. It is this provision that I trust in today.

The Power of Print

2006-11-10T12:50:00.000-08:00

Do you ever wonder if a day will come that they stop making books? I wonder this sometimes. Usually as I'm sitting enjoying a fantastic novel. I wonder if people will get so consumed with their IPODS and BlackBerries and text messaging that they will no longer have time for, or have a need for, actual paper books. I mean, look at the newspaper. I never buy the paper. If I happen to be at a coffee establishment and there are papers there to peruse, I do. If I find one on the subway, I'll read it. But I never buy it. If I want to see an article in the paper, I go online. I have no need to buy the paper copy. I worry that the esteemed novel will go the way of online publishing. I mean, even now. I'm sitting here writing down my thoughts on my online blog. I could be writing these things on paper I suppose.

I worry that the next generation will not experience 'the novel' in the way that we do. For me, walking into Chapters brings a sense of awe and wonder. So many books, so many possibilities. Picking up a book and feeling its weight in my hands, the crisp clean pages and the smooth flat spine, the smell of fresh paper...its an integral part of who I am. A book offers an escape from my busy life, anywhere, anytime. In an instant I can open its pages and be transported. I don't think anything I've read on line has transported me anywhere (except to sleep since I find reading something off the screen to be tedious and horribly boring.)

I suppose I shouldn't worry TOO much. Chapters doesn't seem to be in danger of folding anytime soon. Yet, as technology encroaches on every other aspect of my life, I wonder. Will the shelves and shelves of books that I own become antiques, simply because they are printed on paper?

The Subway

2006-11-05T18:52:00.000-08:00

Yes, friends, two postings in one day!!

I have noticed something interesting about people in my daily travels on the Red Rocket. Some people refuse to sit next to other people on the subway. There are people that will only sit down if there are 2 vacant seats. Why is that? Is it a Toronto thing? Why would you want to stand the whole way downtown when you could sit? I mean, I'm nice. I don't bite. I won't stick my umbrella in your face or anything. And yet, no. Some people would rather stand.

My other observation is that some people seem to think that they are the only people on the Subway. Last friday as I was riding home from Yonge and Bloor, a gentleman sat next to me. I was attempting to read (as I often do on the subway), and yet, I was distracted. The guy next to me has his IPOD on so loudly that I could hear everything. It was loud rock music. I couldn't quite make out the words (can you ever in a rock song?) There was a lot of guitar, drums and yelling. The type of music, however, was not the part that bothered me. Didn't this guy realize that I could hear his music so clearly? I mean, the whole car probably could. Why would you need to listen to music so loudly? I guess some people truly are in 'their own little worlds'.

Okay, I feel better now.

Mr. Santander

2006-11-05T18:42:00.000-08:00

When I was in Grade 7 and 8, we had this great Supply Teacher. Whenever our regular classroom teacher was away, we always hoped we would get this guy. In my grade 8 memory, he was tall, sort of imposing looking man, with grey hair. I thought he was old to be a teacher. The best part about him though, was his stories. He always told us stories--and usually sorta scary ones too. I seem to remember listening to him tell stories for the entire afternoon of the school day. Did he just disregard the lesson plan? Maybe our teacher didn't leave lesson plans and he had to make up stuff to fill the day. The class always respected him--no changing of the seating plan and pretending to be someone else when Mr. Santander was there.

So, reason behind this post? (Those of you who read my blog, my few faithful friends, will know that there is always some sort of reason behind my postings). I wonder, will I be the Mr. Santander of the York Region? Or will I be the teacher that everyone tries to pull stunts on? Even as I write this, I'm thinking about things to put in my supply teacher's bag of tricks. So far, Madlibs and a whistle. Hmmm...I have a ways to go yet I think. I wish I could transplant some of Mr. Santander's stories into my head.

2006-10-27T12:58:00.000-07:00

Right now, I am blogging instead of working on my final exams, which are due monday morning. I haven't even begun them, although I have a few ideas rolling around in my head. Unfortunately, I have too many other things rummaging around up there to focus on my exams. Hence, I am here to empty my brain on this blog so that I can get to work. There is something therapeutic about writing here, regardless of whether someone else out there reads it and responds. Its like keeping a diary, like I did when I was younger, without having to find some place to store the pages and pages of daily adventures and misadventures.

I am faced with a decision. It is a tough decision. Do I do what I think is best for my career in the long run, or do I do what is best for my bank account in the short run (is that a phrase? short run?) I have the opportunity to supply teach for the Board I most want to work for. Supply teaching is the best way to get into the board, as it gives me priority for all hiring positions over external candidates. (Oh, the joys of being an internal candidate!) Supply teaching is, however, inconsistent and somewhat stressful. Will I work today? Will I work tomorrow? Will I be faced with 32 grade 8 monsters? Will there be a lesson plan when I get there? Will the students play mean and cruel practical jokes on me? The job I currently have may allow me to get one step on the ladder in a different board, but doesn't really give me an advantage over other candidates. It is, however, secure employment for the 9 week block. Decisions, decisions.

It is nice, though, to have things to chose between. Not that long ago, I didn't have ANY thing to choose between. And here I am complaining about having a choice. Hmm...the ungrateful button seems to have been pressed.

Okay...well, I really must go and write my exams. My brain is somewhat emptier.

2006-10-20T14:03:00.000-07:00

I have always thought that I was too emotional. I have a long history of being attached to people, of crying in public, and of being easily bruised (emotionally and physically!) I get attached to the people in my life, particulary the ones I feel that I have invested in. It is difficult when someone that you have invested and had high hopes for quits when things get difficult. It feels sort of like a waste of time--both yours and theirs. As a teacher, I want to see each of my students be successful, to complete the course and move on and be successful in reaching their dreams. When that doesn't happen, I wonder if it is me who hasn't done a good enough job. Have I not motivated or inspired them in any way? I teetered on the edge of despair over my job yesterday and this morning as I stood in my classroom with 60% of the people who are supposed to be there. And then I realized this---I can be sad about the people who have decided to leave and I can be angry about my wasted time, or a I can whole-heartedly do my best for the people that ARE there, moving one step at a time towards their goals. And I realized something else. Just because someone doesn't complete the course, it doesn't mean that in the time they were in my room I didn't make a difference to them. It is easy to be discouraged in this line of work, but just as easy to be encouraged by those who aren't afraid to tell you you're making a difference.

2006-10-12T14:39:00.000-07:00

Do you ever feel like you must be speaking the wrong language? I'm certain that when I speak, English comes out of my mouth, and yet, I have the sense that many times people have NO IDEA what in the world I'm talking about. I'm sure that, in reality, I'm the Charlie Brown teacher. You know, the teacher that only says things such as, "Waa Wah wahh wahhhh". That's all the students hear. Apparently, this is all some people have been hearing me say for the past two days.

2006-10-11T18:16:00.000-07:00

Today, I felt like I was going to lose it on someone in my classes. I'm not sure why I thought this position would require less hand holding. I could feel the patience draining from my body as my classes wore on, and I found myself being the teacher I most don't want to be--the one who snaps at her students, who sighs when they approach with a question, who wants simply to sit and mark while they work independently. I only hope that tomorrow I will be able to smile and answer each student with grace.

A pie for all seasons

2006-10-09T18:44:00.000-07:00

I think pumpkin pie should be eaten year round. Many people don't agree with me. Its only for Thanksgiving, they say. I don't know...how much better could you get than a nice cool and creamy, spicy pumpkin pie with whipped cream? But then again, maybe if I ate it all the time I wouldn't appreciate it as much. That sometimes happens you know. You don't appreciate the things you have all the time...until, suddenly, you don't have them. Maybe it would be the same with pumpkin pie.

Do You Sudoku?

2006-10-04T13:48:00.000-07:00

At some point last year, I drove past a Toronto Star post box with the question, "Do you Sudoku?" Of course, I instantly said to myself, "huh?" I soon discovered that Sudoku was a fadish numbers game in the paper. I rolled my eyes and thought...I don't know, sounds sorta silly to me. Whats the point? Who cares if you can arrange the numbers 1-9 in rows, columns and grids. It sounded much too much like finite math, which I carefully and thankfully avoided in highschool, opting to take OAC music instead. I didn't want to spend my time figuring out how many ways you could arrange a ball team roster.

So, I have, up until this point (as I'm sure you must have guessed by now) avoided this clever little game known as Sudoku. During my third period class yesterday, however, this all changed.
For some reason, I found myself looking at the Sudoku in the METRO paper as my students were doing some journal writing. I absently started filling in numbers in the little boxes, and quickly found that I was hooked. I couldn't stop trying to figure out where I should put the numbers. I found myself coming back to it every moment in class that I had a spare minute. I worked on it on the subway. I worked on it after dinner. And when I finished (MUCH after the recommended absolute maximum of 25 minutes), I felt joy as I realized that I had filled in all the boxes correctly.

I have always tried to avoid things that I thought were fadish---carrying around water bottles (until I became a runner), wearing PJs to class, listening to an IPOD 24/7, big 80s bangs, blogging (ha ha) and numerous other things that have come and gone. I wasn't into doing something just because everyone else was doing it.

And yet, today, as I got on the Subway, I found myself looking forward to picking up my copy of the METRO so I could do the puzzle. It is oddly comforting, working with my pencil and eraser, filling in the little boxes. It soothes my need to organize things. It passes the time on the Subway. I feel that is stretching my numbers brain. Do I Sudoku? Yes. I do.

The Job Honeymoon is over

2006-09-27T13:35:00.000-07:00

Today, I came home and felt cranky, tired, disillusioned and overwhelmed. I feel like I am back in my first year of teaching--much too much to do, and not nearly enough time to get it all done. Today was the first day where I sat in my classes and thought, "Is there a point to this?" I know that I am reacting to sporadic attendance in my classes. In my Grade 12 class today there were 27 people. There is supposed to be 47. In my Grade 11 class there were 11. There is supposed to 29. I am weary of students showing up every 2 days and bugging me about what they missed. I ask the class to hand something in, and then the shouts of 'What Assignment, Miss?" go up. In turn, I'm sure they are tired of me being short and frustrated with them. I knew this job would be a lot of work when I accepted it, but I must admit, the sweet temptation of Supply Teaching is calling my name.

I have an interview tomorrow to be a supply teacher with the York Region. If I supply taught 4 days a week, I would make the same amount of money I am making now, with a significantly reduced work load. No marking, no planning, just teaching. (and of course dealing with the difficult children in a potential classroom management nightmare. I remember how my peers acted when there was a supply teacher in.) It shouldn't be about the money, but I confess that right now it is. Why would I want to drown myself in work when I could be paid the same amount and do significantly less work? It is a tough decision to make. Supply teaching is unpredicatable, although I am assured by almost every teacher I know that I could supply teach every day.

So, what to choose? Of course, I haven't had the interview yet, so I might not have anything to choose between. It is a tough call financially, but if money wasn't an issue, I know exactly what I'd do.

Hmmm...there seems to be a large bug in my window....

'Do you teach the other section of this course?'

2006-09-13T13:44:00.000-07:00

On my first day at my new job, I recieved a very nice compliment. At the end of the class, a student came up to me and asked if I teach any other section of this course as she was hoping to switch classes due to her schedule. She was dissapointed to find out that I didn't, since she enjoyed the way I did things. I didn't expect to, but I really like my new job. It is a refreshing change to teach people who are in class because they have chosen to be. They write down everything on the board. They work with determination at everything they are asked to do, they are eager to see if what they have done is correct.

It is a demanding schedule--2 hours is a long time! But so far, it has been very rewarding. The staff is great, and the students are eager (if they are there!) I'm sure marking will be atrocious and already I'm putting in several hours a day outside of my paid hours. I'm sure there will be days that are challenging, but for now, it is a pleasure to work with people who are in class for a purpose.

A new challenge

2006-09-07T18:36:00.000-07:00

This coming Monday I will begin my new job. Like so many other things in my life, it is not what I was looking for, or hoping for when I began this journey. Regardless, I am thankful for it. I am thankful for the position, despite its lack of permanence and low pay, because through this position, I will be required to continue to trust in God's provision for me and my family. Although I now have a job (at least for the next 9 weeks), my financial concerns are not over, and through those concerns, I will learn to continue to trust in the One who has provided the job in the first place.

I am not nervous about the beginning of classes, even though I have NO IDEA what to expect, other than a small room with undefined desks and 55 students (many of whom will be older than myself). It will not be an easy task to engage these people in the world of Grade 11 or 12 College English. It will not be easy to complete a semester's worth of teaching and marking in under 9 weeks. It will not be easy to make ends meet when I'm only being paid for 20 hours a week, even though I'll more than likely work 30-35 hours a week.

But, no one ever said the journey would be easy. They (HE) just promised help along the way.

Foiled by 'Ziti' again!

2006-09-02T14:19:00.000-07:00

I have come to realize that my vocabulary is sadly lacking. Never is this more evident than in a round of that fun and challenging game known as Scrabble. I am always a bit reluctant to play Scrabble, mostly because I'm horrible at it. In recent days, I have begun to come out of my game-playing shell...recognizing that its really about spending time with my friends, even when I lose ridiculously badly. (If anyone is looking to cream someone in RISK, I'm your girl.)

At the end of July, Rob and I went to a cottage with his parents for a few days. The first night we were there, Rob and I played a few rounds of Scrabble with his dad. Amazingly enough, I held my own at the beginning, getting off to a fast start. But when Rob helped his Dad turn 'quit' into 'quiet' for a triple word score, that was the end. It was all downhill from there for me. For the last big play of the game, Rob put down the word 'Ziti' for a triple word score. I had never heard of this word, and Rob has been known to put down some non-existent words. I wanted to challenge this word, but thankfully was stopped by his parents who verified that it was a word. Rob was victorious, polishing off the competition with his ziti.

Last night, Rob and I visited our friend Andrew for dinner. We decided to play Scrabble, and once again, I was off to a good start. The game progressed with Rob and Andrew battling it out for top score. A triple word score opportunity came up. It was my turn. Rob pointed it out to me, as I was not planning on using it. I realized I could, although it wasn't the word I had been planning. Andrew made the comment, "I've got a really great word." I was intrigued, I wanted to know what the word was. I put down my word, "yawn" for my 10 points. And then, Andrew put down his 'really great word'--Z-I-T-I.

Toronto Drivers

2006-08-29T14:42:00.000-07:00

Okay, so this is my rant about those people who have driver's liscences that perhaps shouldn't. You know who I'm talking about--if you've been in a car, you've seen them. I must admit, the longer I drive in TO, the greater my frequency of 'road-irritation'. I'm not willing to admit to road rage, but I have been known to make gestures at other drivers who have ticked me off. (No, not that gesture, silly.) I more often than not give them my 'what in the world are you thinking' gesture that involves me raising my hands, paired with a quizzical 'are you blind?' expression. What has spawned this rant today? Well, I pulled up to Yonge street on a side street with the intention to make a right hand turn. In front of me, another driver who was also making a right hand turn. This person passed up many obvious opportunities to make the turn, and then eventually just pulled out in front of a car. Also at this intersection was a person attempting to make a LEFT HAND TURN onto Yonge street at an intersection with no light during rush hour. Not sure what this person was thinking, or why they would even TRY this move, especially since they could have gone one side street south and made the turn easily with the light. Honestly, I don't get it. I don't understand the people who drive down the merge lane and then cut off other drivers, just to get ahead of the slower traffic. Don't they realize that the only reason the lane is moving slowly is because of people like them? If they merged in when there was a space, the lane would move smoothly!! Ugh...and I've started honking at people who pull these moves. (I honked at the person waiting to make the right hand turn mentioned above..) Unfortunately, I have a wimpy horn. But the thing is, I hate it when people honk at me (usually because I feel like they are honking at me because they are too impatient and I am being a safe driver....)

I have also been known to honk other people's horns when I was frustrated at a move some other driver made. 5 years ago, Melissa and I were driving home from a fun day of student teaching in Woodstock. As we came down the road, a van did a U- turn in front of us, causing us to put on the brakes in the middle of the road. I couldn't help it; I reached over and honked Melissa's horn. She was shocked. Thankfully, she didn't kick me out of the car or tell me that she never wanted to see me again...honestly, at the time, I didn't think anything of it!

I think I need to move out of the city, or just start walking every where. I just hope that someone will tell me if I'm becoming one of THOSE drivers.

Being Thankful

2006-08-25T15:15:00.000-07:00

I know its not thanksgiving (although, who wouldn't want more than one sitting of turkey, mashed potatoes, stuffing and pumpkin pie?), but I came to the realization this morning that in all my moaning and boo-hooing about my lack of a job, I have been not been thankful for the amazing things I have in my life. My husband, my family, my friends, my health, food, clothes, freedom, safety, the time on my hands to write this silly blog, time in my day to read a book with a cup of tea, etc etc etc. I could go on and on about the things that I am thankful for that I take for granted, and that I have overlooked in my small-minded view of how horrible things are for me right now. I used to wonder why God had forgotten me. How could I ever have posed such a question? Firstly, God never forgets his people, and secondly, if he had forgotten me, I simply wouldn't be here. Therefore, I have made a decision to spend as much time as I can being thankful for the things I have and for the world around me. God hasn't forgotten me, he just works on a different time frame than me. And even if I don't get a teaching job, it doesn't mean that He is any less faithful to his promises for provision and a hope and a future.

Dealing with Defeat

2006-08-24T07:47:00.000-07:00

This has been a somewhat difficult summer for me. When I think about it, its been the most relaxing one I have had in a while--for the plain reason that I haven't been working on school work. Although my husband might think otherwise, I haven't felt as stressed out or worried about my lack of a job as I thought I might be. I spent two fantastic weeks away from our house and enjoyed every minute of it--even knowing that there was the possibility that it might prevent me from attending job interviews. This last week has been the most difficult, as my friends gear up to head back and as I become saturated with 'Back to School' commercials. Several jobs have been posted recently for which I have great qualifications, and yet I don't have any confidence that I'll even get an interview.

Don't worry friends, this is not going to be another 'woe is me' entry. In fact, I would like to extend thanks to all of my friends and family members who have constantly encouraged me over the past few months. You have just as easily said, 'Suck it up. You're depressing me, and I'm tired of your complaining. Get over it already. The world doesn't owe you anything." Thankfully, none of you said that (even though you might have been thinking it, or some other perhaps less harsh variation.)

I guess I'm just starting to deal with the fact that the next few weeks might pass and I may not come out on the other side with a teaching position. I may have to work evenings and weekends, although I really was hoping to be able to spend more time at home. Its funny, I seem to go through this lesson over and over and over. Many times, things don't work out the way you expect them to. I can think of many times in my short life where things occured that weren't in my plans, or my hopes for myself, and yet, when I think about it, they turned out better than I could have hoped. Right now, I can't imagine how not teaching this year could be better than I hoped, but I'm open. And I'm thankful that I'm not really in charge.

Earlier in the summer I decided I wanted to spend some time using the Message translation in my devotions. Matthew 6: 30-33 says this, "If God gives such attention to the appearance of wildflowers--most of which are never even seen--don't you think he'll attend to you, take pride in you, do his best for you? What I'm trying to do here is get you to relax, to not be so preoccupied with getting, so you can respond to God's giving. People who don't know God and the way he works fuss over these things, but you know both God and how he works. Steep your life in God-reality, God-initiative, God-provisions. Don't worry about missing out. You'll find all your everyday human concerns will be met." I've tried to meditate on these truths as much as I could this summer. Some days I read it and think about it and pray over it and say, yes, of course. Others, I confess, I've been one to whom Jesus would say, "Oh ye of little faith." Today, I think I'm in the middle-knowing with my heart that I need to trust and wait and feeling with my head that I can't wait, I must take things into my own hands because God has forgotten about me.

Today I choose to deal with the defeat of my self and I give up my plans for myself and my family. I give up my expectations. I wait with with great expectations to see what HIS plans are for me. I don't know what they look like, or what changes they will bring, but I will look forward to seeing them come together.

Wedding Bells and Bugs

2006-08-22T08:45:00.000-07:00

Well, I've been waiting to have something inspiring to write about, but, well, when you're on holidays that have no real prospect of ending, there really isn't that much to say. The most interesting thing happening right now is that there is a very large bug crawling around my window. Its a big bug. And I hope it doesn't fly because that would be the end. It is checking out my window quite thoroughly. I wish I could say it was trapped inside the window, but no, its on my side. I wonder, how did it get there? Bugs seem to magically appear sometimes. I wish this one would magically disappear.

As my family can attest, I am not good with bugs, despite my biology teacher roots. I'm afraid of centipedes. I'm also afraid of bees. And they fly. Not good. Here is a story that will attest to my bug fear. Two weeks ago I was visiting my mom and step-dad and grandma at a farm cottage they had rented. We were sitting around outside drinking and chatting. My grandma casually mentions that "I've got something on me." Those are scary words to me. I started jumping up and down and swatting at my legs, missing whatever scary object was on me. Finally Rob convinced me to sit down and he came over and brushed off the small and slow-moving caterpillar that was crawling up my leg, about to go under my capris. So, now I'm famous in those circles for my 'caterpillar dance.' I am keeping a close eye on the bug in my window. Its almost as concerning as the bird in the window. Almost, but not quite. And not for the same reasons. I can't decide if I'll be glad or not if I look over and see that its gone.

The other thing on my mind is a set of upcoming nuptuals. My sister is getting married. And so is a dear friend that is one of my closest kindred spirits. (The bug is now outside my window. Its on the vertical blind. If it was on the floor, I'd squish it. Oops, it fell off. I hope it falls on the ground soon.) Its strange to me that my sister is getting married. I'm not sure why, except I suppose that she's my kid sister and I can't imagine that she's even old enough to get married. Its such an exciting time to be engaged. I'm not sure I enjoyed it as much as I should have--its easy to get caught up in the stress of plans. Mind you, I wouldn' t want to go back to being engaged now that I'm married, since the engagement is just the beginning. (I think the bug is looking at me.) My frequently mentioned friend Melissa is also getting married. I'm so excited for her. I'm also looking forward to the excuse for getting all dressed up!

The hills are alive with the sound of laboured breathing

2006-08-16T08:23:00.000-07:00

I have spent the last several days in Coralville, Iowa visiting my mom and stepdad. I love it here--if I was going to move to the States, this is where I'd go. As a runner though, there is one major drawback. The hills. There are hills everywhere here. Rolling hills...both big and small. There is this great bike path to bike, walk, and if you're brave, run on around here. Yesterday I decided I would do about 7 miles (actually, when I left I said I was going to do about 8 miles, but after 2 I decided 7 was far enough, thank you). I set out and ran the half-mile to the bike path (up hill) and set out. I love that it has the mile markers on the path, and I started at at marker 0. However, this path is all hills, all the way along it. You're either running up a hill, or running down a hill. There are no flat spots. While this type of run is great for my overall physique, it is somewhat demoralizing for my running psyche. Its hard work, the whole time. Its tiring, and it can be depressing. Particularly since I know when I hit the crest of a hill, there is another one waiting. However, I think my runs at home in Toronto are going to seem much easier after dragging myself up and down all these hills!

The Treadmill

2006-08-02T11:39:00.000-07:00

Since its been so blisteringly hot out the last two days, I have been defeated by the outdoors and have forced myself to run on the treadmill. I'm not sure what it is about the treadmill, but its as if all my previous running flies out the window and I find myself struggling to run just a few short miles (when I know for a fact that I can easily run 13 miles in 1 hour and 53 minutes). Its all a mind game, I know. And part of it is my preoccupation with the person running next to me. How fast are they running? What channel are they watching? How far have they gone already? When I'm outside and I pass someone, I still ask myself these questions, but they are fleeting since I only really see the person for a few short minutes. But on the treadmill, you are stuck with the person next to you for an indefinite amount of time, depending on how long you are there. Its like I just can't find the zone when I run on the treadmill, and its almost as depressing as stopping a run much sooner than you had planned, or knowing that you gave in to the temptation of sitting around, drinking tea and watching informercials back home. My one consolation with the treadmill is that Rob bought me a radio that allows me to also plug in my headphones to watch the TV that is built into the treadmill. The last two days I have watched "What Not to Wear" as I run, and that seems to help. If I don't think about what I'm doing, its not as unbearable. Distance seems to go by so slowly on that darn thing!

The Magic Bullet

2006-07-31T19:26:00.000-07:00

Yes, I am writing a blog about that handy kitchen tool, the Magic Bullet. Now, I don't personally own a Magic Bullet, but I'm always totally excited to meet someone who does. I'm not sure what it is about that informerical, but I get sucked into it every single time. It never fails...I'll be surfing around looking for something to watch and bingo...there it is...that horribly cheesy, badly scripted 'real-life' commercial for the Magic Bullet and all the amazing things it can do in 10 seconds or less. I don't know about you, however, but some of the food it produces just looks, well, like its been pre-digested.

The other infomercial I get sucked into is the GT Express 101 with that lady who seems to be in every infomercial except for the Magic Bullet. You know the appliance I'm talking about here...the one with the two wells that looks like some sort of strange sandwich maker that produces such delicacies as 'stuffed soup'. I think the most tragic part of this whole situation is that I can actually tell you all this stuff off the top of my head.

I really only watch TV for the commercials. I have this thing about commercials--I seem to be able to memorize them after only one viewing, and I actually have commercials that I will sit and watch everytime, even though I've seen them a million times. I haven't actually purchased any of the things I see advertised on those informercials, but I've been tempted...let me tell you.

Being on Holiday

2006-07-29T13:26:00.000-07:00

I am shockingly bad at being on holiday. I'm just not good at it. Its not that I don't have anything to do...there are lots of things I could do, I just don't want to do them. The paradox of it all! All school year I look forward to these two months. Days of waking up whenever I want to, organizing my day around whatever schedule I have for the day (which could be no schedule at all....), being at home, reading books, drinking tea and watching the FOOD network. And yet, when I find myself in them, in the much revered summer holiday, I'm bored after like, one day. Well, maybe two. But by August, really, I'm ready to go back to work.

This is what scares me the most about not having a job to go back to in September. See, every September for my whole life has held the promise of something new, of a new beginning, of possibilities. It brings with it a reason for new school supplies, a new haircut, some new pieces of clothing. Every August I start thinking about those school supplies, those new clothes and I think about the school year ahead and the people I'm going to meet and the experiences I'm going to have. In recent years, August has been a time to page through books on classroom management, plan lessons, decide how I'm going to run my courses and organize my classroom, how I'll set up my daybook, how I'll change my lessons. This year, however, August brings with it none of these promises. It brings with it a sense of sameness; a sense that the day after Labour Day will find me at home, waiting, hoping, praying for the phone to ring. Even worse, that it will find me out looking for a job that doesn't give me Christmas Holidays, March break, homework checks, marking, tests, parent/teacher interviews, field trips, long long days, complaints, crazy students, crazy parents, or report cards to look forward to. And along with this will come with it a shift in my identity. I will no longer be a teacher.

For the first time in my life I'm realizing how much my career shapes my identity. But, that, I fear will be for another time.

Start living, thats the next thing on my list

2006-07-14T18:19:00.000-07:00

A few years ago, the aforementioned Melissa and I came across a country station in our travels to Woodstock and back in Teacher's College. There was this cheesy song on--I remember it clearly as being cheesy since we laughed at the lyric. It was something like, 'take a little walk, da da da da(insert forgotten lyrics here) , take a deep breath of mountain air, put on my glove and play a little catch, its time that I make time for that...start living, that's the next thing on my list." At the time, it was the stereotypical example of why I didn't listen to country. And then something happened. I got hooked. So hooked that I programmed my car radio to the country station.

Last night, I went to my first country concert. And felt strangely out of place. I felt that I should be wearing a cowboy hat and boots. Either that, I should have been dressed to try and pick up the singer. I was surprised at the wide variety of people at the concert--and distressed to see that many of them were the exactly who you would imagine to be at a country concert. I was somewhat embarrassed to be associated with some of these people. That is, until the music began. And once I again, I found that music stripped away the differences between the various people at the concert. We found ourselves shouting out the words as Adam Gregory and then, Keith Urban, invited the crowd to sing along. For several hours, I sat on the grass and sang along with 20000 of my 'closest friends', joined together by two things-- an infatuation with Keith and a love of country music.

This is not something that is unique to country music, but its one of the things I like about country music. Its about people I know. As one song (by an artist I can't name) reminds us, its all "songs about me." I am therefore, proud to be a country fan. And I'm seriously thinking about getting a cowboy hat.

Useless in emergencies

2006-07-11T15:19:00.000-07:00

Thankfully, the bird was freed from my window. But not after a long day of being stuck beneath my A/C unit.

After Rob returned home to find the bird still in the window, we decided to free him. Obviously, the only way to get him out was to peel the tape away on our side of the window, and hopefully, force him back the opening. After slowly peeling the tape away gradually, we realized that we were going to have to bite the proverbial bullet and just peel it away all the way and then open the window and send him out. This was my job.

Yes, in this situation, my only job was to stand ready to open the window for Rob to send the bird out.

We prepared. Rob put gloves on. We cleared extra clutter away, and prepared to potentially have a bird fly around our apartment. I was standing ready as Rob pulled the tape away.....

...and as he did so, the bird suddenly came to life and I left my post. Very quickly. With hysterical shrieking and a good amount of nervous laughter.

Rob was then forced to both hold the bird in one hand, and pull the window back with the other, which he did quite well. And from a distance I watched as he threw the bird quickly out the window. I didn't see if it flew away. But I didn't find any birdie casualties.

We then promptly sealed the little space up so no other birds would suffer the same fate.

I am useless in emergencies.

The bird in the window

2006-07-08T10:12:00.000-07:00

Right now, there is a bird (a sparrow, I think) stuck in the window in my living room, underneath the air conditioner. Its been there for a few hours now. Every once and a while, it moves around, and I go over and try and show it the way out.

Normally, there is a small gap in between our air conditioner and the sliding panes of our window. I noticed this morning that a bird had come in that gap and was stuck in between the panes of the window. Rob told me this had happened earlier in the week, but that the bird had found its way out on its own. Well, this little one just couldn't seem to do it. It was down at the far left hand side of the window, away from the little gap it just needed to go back out. Of course, for me to help it out, I would have to open one of the panes of glass to make the space bigger and more obvious. Not wanting a sparrow flying around our apartment, I started tapping the glass and basically telling the bird to go back towards the way it came it. It finally heard me, and went back the other way, allowing me to open the window, and pull back the glass of the other glass pane. Instead of realizing the opportunity to fly away home, the silly thing moved all the way past the opening, and went underneath the A/C unit. To further complicate things, the only thing keeping the bird out of my apartment is a piece of packing tape that we use to seal off the window. (Rob is ingenious in coming up with handy solutions to make things work, and this is the only way we can seal off our window to allow the A/C to work. He calls it his 'jury-rigging.) It did stick its leg out underneath the packing tape, and I must say, if it poked hard enough, it would just break through the tape and fly into my house. Additionally, I think it is now stuck to the tape, facing the wrong way. I have tried many times to get it to back out of the little space its in, but really, the only way to do that I think is to pull the tape away, releasing it into my apartment.

One time, when I was very young, a bat flew into my dad's apartment. I have distinct memories of watching him try to shoo the darn thing out again with a broom. As amusing as it was, I do not wish to repeat it in my little space. Am I selfish?

However, I can't help but feel sadness about the whole thing. I think its resigned to its fate...sitting there, hopelessly stuck under my A/C unit. I try to show it what to do, but it can't see the way out. I'm not sure if it will get out.

I think too many times, we are like the little bird in my window. The Way is clear. But we are stuck, paralyzed by fear, or disbelief, or worry or whatever else could be blocking our vision. The little bird cannot possibly see how going backwards could help. But if it did it, if it listened to me, if it backed up about 5 cm, it would find the way, and fly away home.

The Waiting Game

2006-07-07T18:11:00.000-07:00

Right now, I am waiting. And I am horrible at it. Honestly, I have very little patience for things, particularly when I don't know what I'm waiting for. Why are some people seemingly blessed with an unending ability to be patient, to wait, to trust? Oh, I have my moments of brillance...or rather, patience. But right now is not one of them.

I am waiting for a job. I have the desire to do one particular job, and I am qualified for one type of job. Unfortunately, there are 100s, if not 1000s of other people out there looking for and hoping for the same job as me. Today, I decided to search around for other possible jobs that I could do, those related to my university degree and otherwise. And the more I looked, the more depressed I became at the thought of working outside of the classroom.

There is not much I can do about this situation, however, except for apply to every job that I see, hand out resumes and hope that someone, somewhere likes me enough to offer me firstly, an interview, and secondly, a job. My biggest responsibility right now, though, is to wait.

Wait.

Wait. And trust.

Trust that God will be faithful to His promise to provide. I know it might not be in the way that I am hoping for, and I am trying to reconcile that fact with my heart's desire. It is also very difficult not to feel, at this moment in time, that I made the wrong decision in leaving my previous position.

I know God often asks His people to go. To trust and to go.

I felt that it was time to go.

But I'm having a hard time with the trusting part. And the doubt makes me wonder if I even really heard the call to go.

I am George Constanza

2006-07-04T06:26:00.000-07:00

I have come to the realization that I am George. I am the person in the express checkout line counting to make sure you have the right number of items in your cart to BE in the express checkout line. I recognized this quality in myself anew Monday as I was working out at the gym. I watched as a woman sat down at the calf extension machine, ignoring the 'Out of Order' sign, and tried to make the darn thing work. Of course it didn't, and she just kept playing with it. She was in my peripheral view as I worked out on the hamstring curl machine. And the more she played with the machine, the more I wanted to go over there and say, "Look Lady, there's a sign. Can't you see the sign?"

Case in point: in mid May, Rob and I went to a driving range. We were having a good time, because I was actually hitting the ball. At the end of the range however, were 3 Yahoos (as I call them) wearing the bucket on their heads, taking running starts at the balls, going out into the range to get more balls to hit...etc. And this bothered me. In fact, I wanted to go over to them and say, Look here. Don't you have some homework you should be doing? You're breaking the rules, you can't do that. You just can't. Rob was equally annoyed, and agreed, Yes, we should try and hit a ball at them while they were out on the range. But he ignored them and continued hitting balls. I however, could not. It just bugged me. They weren't bothering me, but they were breaking the rules and getting away with it. And the more they did it, and the louder and more obnoxious they got, the more irked I was. I wanted to march right into the Pro shop and say, Look here, you've got some hooligans out here breaking the rules.

This quality in me bugs me to no end. It is the part of me that is indignant when I see people in the HOV lane on the 403 with only 1 person in the car. It is the part of me that refuses to let people merge at the end of the merge lane because I KNOW they drove to the end purposely, instead of merging in when there was space. (I know this because I ALWAYS leave a space for people to merge, and I watch them ignore it.) Can't you just see my eyes bugging out of my head here? This is a quality I must weed out of myself. How can I be a teacher when such little things bug me? How can I stop going crazy when I see people with their sprinklers on in the rain?

Its good thing George has people like Jerry, Elaine and Kramer in his life. They seem to balance out his 'over-reactive' nature.

Confession....

2006-07-03T06:46:00.000-07:00

...I have read the Da Vinci code. And it was an amusing, if not clever story. But, honestly, I'm not sure what all the hype is about. Its a novel. Its a work of fiction, it says as much in the front of the novel. I am, however, concerned at how easily people just throw over their old ideas about things and grasp on to whatever new idea has surfaced. When did people forget to use their brains? I'm tempted to see the film, but only because Tom Hanks is in it. If Meg Ryan was in it too? Well, I'd be there in a heart beat. (Who can argue with the Tom Hanks, Meg Ryan combination ?)

I get upset, well maybe not upset, more like, annoyed, at Christians who blast things such as the Da Vinci code without doing their research to find out what its really about. Its like the people who are opposed to and/or offended by Harry Potter without having actually read Harry Potter. How in the world can you make an intelligent and persuasive argument against something without having done any research? Its like my students who make broad sweeping statements about the state of the world like, "Since the beginning of time, we humans have been having an impact on the world..."Really, okay, well, how do you know that? How do people expect to be taken seriously if they don't know what they're talking about?

Its a hard line to draw though...since you don't want to inadvertently get drawn into something, and then realize that its taken you somewhere you don't want to go. But you must do your research, you must have something intelligent to say if you are going to argue and debate effectively. That's the first rule of debating--anticipate what your opponent will say, and then come up with a counterargument for it. Of all my goals as a teacher, the most important one I have is to teach my students to THINK for themselves. I wish I could say that I've been successful. Oh, I've seen glimpses, but really, how in the world do you teach a 16 year old that what they see around them, isn't all there is?

Melissa Squared

2006-07-01T11:05:00.000-07:00

I have this friend named Melissa. I met her in Teacher's college, and its one of the funniest things to me. I honestly think that our meeting was orchestrated by God. See, the reason we met was because we had our first teaching placement at the same school. Neither of us had a ride, so we decided that we would drive together, if Melissa could get a car. And she did. And so began a unique and blessed friendship, particularly after we discovered we lived so close to each other, and a passion for Step Aerobics!

Even though teachers college was a few years ago now, four to be exact, Melissa and I are still good friends, as I followed her to Brampton, and we now both live in the infamous GTA. We have watched each other go through engagements, break ups, marriage and the joys of being a beginning teacher. We've cheered each other on at the finish line of half-marathons, and 30km races. We spend way too much time discussing the crazy stunts our students pull, and not enough time together in general.

Even though we seem to be getting farther and farther apart geographically, I still see the inexplicable hand of God on our relationship as we discover more and more connections...six degrees of separation, if you will. The new music teacher at Melissa's school is one of my husband's highschool buddies. Despite my seemingly inability to keep in touch as much as I should, it seems that someone out there wants us to be friends. And I am thankful for that.

Blogger's Initiation

2006-06-30T14:17:00.000-07:00

Well, I'm not sure of the reason for this, but I guess since I'm on summer holidays, I need something to do. Secretly, I've always thought people who had 'blogs' were strange, like some sort of cult I didn't want to belong to. Almost like, attending a Star Trek convention. And then I found out that people I know...and people who are my friends are 'bloggers". And now, here it seems that I have just become one too. Its like realizing that I have become a runner. Its funny, that even after 2 years of running and training, I'm hesitant to use the title. Almost like I have to have accomplished something that awards me the runner's title. And yet, I am a runner. I am one of those strange people who run, despite the fact that its pouring rain outside, or -10 degrees and snowing. Its a strange self-revelation.