There is something to be said for the people who truly appreciate the wonderful healing powers of the bagel. The thing about this albeit high in carb and calorie food is that the bagel has gotten me through some of the worst times as well as some of my best.
Two people in my life truly appreciate the healing magic powers of the bagel. And yesterday, I got to spend time with both of them.
On the phone, it is easy for Rob and I to be ridiculous. We say stupid things, argue pettily over where one or the other should park, discuss the true ramifications of a day spent lazing about doing nothing, or a doing filled with everything, the first typically being my first choice and his. Something that always comes up in our conversation however is bagels. Yes, sometimes the poor innocent food becomes a pawn in our tendency to pick on one another about what could be and never will be, but in this friendship, the bagel plays a central role. Every time we part ways for separate parts of the country, we meet for bagels and coffee. Since we say adios a lot, we share bagels about four times a year.
With Erin, things are different. If we both make the effort, Erin and I can get together nearly every weekend. Yesterday, we met for bagels in a Bagel shop on Church Street. In typical Erin and Addie fashion, we made it not even ten steps into the place before some chick had insulted us. Also in classic E&A fashion, I ordered and proceeded to fight with Erin regarding her order until she ordered the same thing I did. Erin and I spend our time laughing about the ridiculous, discussing the future, and trying to work out our feelings regarding the present. Things are different with Erin and myself in that when life is shitty we talk it out. We also know how to talk one another down. This might be because we tend to know each other better than we know ourselves. For this reason, we are able to make observations that cause the other to think long and hard about what we might really be thinking.
The overarching theme here however, is not just bagels but people. I find it somewhat ironic that the two people who I am still close with, the two people who still contact me back, and the two people who even if we go a while without speaking, who always manage to make me remember who I am, and that I am not disappearing all together from my life.
So to the two people who never let me forget who I am. I am thankful for you each day.
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Monday, March 21, 2011
"Isn't It Illegal to give a pop quiz on a monday?"
I guess this type of question should be expected when you ask students to put away their books and take out their notes first thing on a Monday. I, laughed. And how could I not? The question seemed so strange and yet the student was completely serious about what she was asking me. I asked her where her phenomenal information regarding ed law came from and she told me that since I had studied teaching and "stuff", her words not mine, I should know where it came from. She was not being disrespectful, and she took her quiz and did her best on it.
If anyone is wondering, it is not illegal to give a quiz on a monday. And for those who believe me to be a horrible person for giving a quiz on Monday...allow me a moment to defend. I talked myself blue in the face on Friday reminding them to take notes on paper and be concious of what was going on in the epic of Gilgamesh. No matter how often I mentioned taking notes, half of the notebooks remained sealed in backbacks and their owners were left to doodle on the edge of a random scrap of paper. That and the quiz was straight forward enough that had the students read the book there would be no question as to the answers on the quiz.
This leads me to my larger thought for the day. Why do we all dread Monday so much? And why are we always so miserable when it comes around? Consider this, there have been thousands of mondays. There are more than 48 mondays in a year. So, what's the big deal. Why is a Monday so much different than a Tuesday. If I had the choice, I would lead a revolt against Tuesday. The second day of the week. The week has started and yet there is so much more of it to come. Yes Monday marks the end of the weekend and the beginning of the week, but aren't we all coming into another weekend regardless? There has never been a Monday that is not four days later matched by a Friday. And doesn't that make it all worth it?
We dread Monday, refusing to do things that on any other day of the week would be accepted as just another task. So I wonder....If it's "illegal" to give a quiz on Monday....Is it also "illegal" to give a quiz on Tuesday?
If anyone is wondering, it is not illegal to give a quiz on a monday. And for those who believe me to be a horrible person for giving a quiz on Monday...allow me a moment to defend. I talked myself blue in the face on Friday reminding them to take notes on paper and be concious of what was going on in the epic of Gilgamesh. No matter how often I mentioned taking notes, half of the notebooks remained sealed in backbacks and their owners were left to doodle on the edge of a random scrap of paper. That and the quiz was straight forward enough that had the students read the book there would be no question as to the answers on the quiz.
This leads me to my larger thought for the day. Why do we all dread Monday so much? And why are we always so miserable when it comes around? Consider this, there have been thousands of mondays. There are more than 48 mondays in a year. So, what's the big deal. Why is a Monday so much different than a Tuesday. If I had the choice, I would lead a revolt against Tuesday. The second day of the week. The week has started and yet there is so much more of it to come. Yes Monday marks the end of the weekend and the beginning of the week, but aren't we all coming into another weekend regardless? There has never been a Monday that is not four days later matched by a Friday. And doesn't that make it all worth it?
We dread Monday, refusing to do things that on any other day of the week would be accepted as just another task. So I wonder....If it's "illegal" to give a quiz on Monday....Is it also "illegal" to give a quiz on Tuesday?
Monday, March 14, 2011
The twenty Things I have recently learned in High School
1. If you can't make them laugh, its not even worth trying. Funny is everything.
* This knowledge comes from a mistaken conversation regarding naked Bikram yoga...Something I have never done and yet they thought the concept was hilarious. After that, it was proclaimed that I was "cool".
2. It's not about where you went to college, what your gpa was while you were in college, or what you do on the weekends. Its about what you are wearing. * High School students...they too are all about the scarf.
3. You may be smart....they will always be smarter. * Blame Creative Writing for this idea...I cannot please the poet extrordinair
4. Anything you can do on the computer...is "the bomb"
5. High School students hate flowery poetry. "Why would you write something that a normal person cannot understand?"
6. If there were a class in sleeping, or being off task, I have been informed that not only would everyone take it, but they would all earn A's. "it's just so...you know...laid back"
7. They are interested in learning...if you can teach them in a new and exciting way that engages them.
8. High School is not a place to lecture....the best way to teach is to sit with them and talk about it.
9. A "B" is never good enough
10. Mr. Hyde may have been the physical manifestation of Dr. Jekylls closeted homosexuality...take that Freud!
11. Class starts at 8:30 really means...class starts when the music stops.
12. Shakespeare....."He's da man!"
13. Teachers DO live at school...At least the good ones do.
14. Oedipus Rex was an unknowing contributor to incest..."why do we all have to harsh on him so bad?"
15. If you have girlscout cookies....you are the most popular girl in the room
16. Silence really means whispering quietly so the teacher has to pretend not to hear you.
17. Facebook knows everything...Teachers know essentially..."well nothing"
18. "That Bird by Bird lady was way far off her rocker". Apparently snarky, opinionated essayists are the enemy of creative writing students everywhere.
19. If you have students put their heads on their desks to visualize a setting...they WiLL fall asleep.
20. Students really care about their teachers and pleasing their teachers. All they want is attention to help them get there.
* This knowledge comes from a mistaken conversation regarding naked Bikram yoga...Something I have never done and yet they thought the concept was hilarious. After that, it was proclaimed that I was "cool".
2. It's not about where you went to college, what your gpa was while you were in college, or what you do on the weekends. Its about what you are wearing. * High School students...they too are all about the scarf.
3. You may be smart....they will always be smarter. * Blame Creative Writing for this idea...I cannot please the poet extrordinair
4. Anything you can do on the computer...is "the bomb"
5. High School students hate flowery poetry. "Why would you write something that a normal person cannot understand?"
6. If there were a class in sleeping, or being off task, I have been informed that not only would everyone take it, but they would all earn A's. "it's just so...you know...laid back"
7. They are interested in learning...if you can teach them in a new and exciting way that engages them.
8. High School is not a place to lecture....the best way to teach is to sit with them and talk about it.
9. A "B" is never good enough
10. Mr. Hyde may have been the physical manifestation of Dr. Jekylls closeted homosexuality...take that Freud!
11. Class starts at 8:30 really means...class starts when the music stops.
12. Shakespeare....."He's da man!"
13. Teachers DO live at school...At least the good ones do.
14. Oedipus Rex was an unknowing contributor to incest..."why do we all have to harsh on him so bad?"
15. If you have girlscout cookies....you are the most popular girl in the room
16. Silence really means whispering quietly so the teacher has to pretend not to hear you.
17. Facebook knows everything...Teachers know essentially..."well nothing"
18. "That Bird by Bird lady was way far off her rocker". Apparently snarky, opinionated essayists are the enemy of creative writing students everywhere.
19. If you have students put their heads on their desks to visualize a setting...they WiLL fall asleep.
20. Students really care about their teachers and pleasing their teachers. All they want is attention to help them get there.
Sunday, March 13, 2011
Flashback
People used to gawk at the father with four kids
one on his back, one on his front
and two by the hand.
Homeless? they would wonder
as he walked down the street.
Many winters now passed
same man same kids same street
now adults in their own right
walk in a line hands free from their father
still close by his side.
Memories fade
yet some images stay forever
imbedded in the mind.
A father who obviously
loves his children.
one on his back, one on his front
and two by the hand.
Homeless? they would wonder
as he walked down the street.
Many winters now passed
same man same kids same street
now adults in their own right
walk in a line hands free from their father
still close by his side.
Memories fade
yet some images stay forever
imbedded in the mind.
A father who obviously
loves his children.
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Sleepless in New Haven
Last night I couldn't sleep. One would think that considering I was up at six, at MUHS until two, drove to Johnson for a class in Gothic lit at four, then went to Auri's to watch what I claim is the worst movie ever, and then drove home, arriving at 11:30 and staying up to go over it all with my mother that I would have fallen into the bliss only found in one's unconsciousness the moment my head hit the pillow. Instead I lay, hazel eyes staring at the ceiling tracing the patterns in the paneling with my memory.
I'm not sure what it is that set me off. But as I lay there I thought of all the people who, like me, could not turn off their brain, and were instead staring into the oblivion that is life. I counted my heartbeat, I counted snores erupting from my father who was fortunate enough to sleep. I watched the lights flash in the hallway from the television left on by another sleeping body. I flipped through my favorite episodes of FRIENDS but nothing would lull my mind into some sense of security allowing me to drift away.
My mind was alive with images from the day reeling around like clips from a movie replaying each moment in my head tirelessly analyzing each moment looking for a reason. When I used to get this way I would get up and walk the halls in the dorm. I could pace back and forth beneath fluorescent lights and no one would be disturbed through the thick self closing fire doors that separate college students from the reality of the real world. Now, in a house where the inhabitants sleep with doors wide open in an attempt to lure the elusive white dog, the smallest step on the floor will wake someone. I rolled around beneath batik fabrics looking for a place in the red pillows to rest my head and my mind. I needed somewhere to place my thoughts. Nights like these make me with I were a wizard the likes of Albus Dumbledore and could place my troubling thoughts in a penceive where only I could access them and they would no longer trouble my mind.
Just as I was drifting off the sleep, I heard the soft buzz of my phone on the shelf. And I felt no need to look at it, rather, I was comforted by the fact that somewhere else in the world someone else was sleepless and I drifted off into a fitful sleep interrupted with fearful thoughts and troubled images.
When my eyes popped open at five in the morning however, I did not get up. I continued to lie in my bed comforted by the warmth of flannel sheets, a fleece blanket and two quilts protecting me from the infamous cold. I listened as my father whistled and sang as he got ready for work. At five thirty, by my phone, i caught the scent of Bacon wafting through the banister and filling the entire house with a fatty salty smell. At 5:41 I listened as the truck was cranked once...FAIL and then again...Success, if at first you do not succeed try try again, and then as the tires rolled over dirt sand and ice signifying the end of the morning concert in the kitchen. I responded to the message still in my phone..."You awake I need advice" and responded...I'm here now and full of advice.
At 6 Am my alarm went off letting me know for certain that a new day had arrived and it was time to face the world. This was when I fell sound asleep for fifteen minutes. Feeling safe that morning had come.
I'm not sure what it is that set me off. But as I lay there I thought of all the people who, like me, could not turn off their brain, and were instead staring into the oblivion that is life. I counted my heartbeat, I counted snores erupting from my father who was fortunate enough to sleep. I watched the lights flash in the hallway from the television left on by another sleeping body. I flipped through my favorite episodes of FRIENDS but nothing would lull my mind into some sense of security allowing me to drift away.
My mind was alive with images from the day reeling around like clips from a movie replaying each moment in my head tirelessly analyzing each moment looking for a reason. When I used to get this way I would get up and walk the halls in the dorm. I could pace back and forth beneath fluorescent lights and no one would be disturbed through the thick self closing fire doors that separate college students from the reality of the real world. Now, in a house where the inhabitants sleep with doors wide open in an attempt to lure the elusive white dog, the smallest step on the floor will wake someone. I rolled around beneath batik fabrics looking for a place in the red pillows to rest my head and my mind. I needed somewhere to place my thoughts. Nights like these make me with I were a wizard the likes of Albus Dumbledore and could place my troubling thoughts in a penceive where only I could access them and they would no longer trouble my mind.
Just as I was drifting off the sleep, I heard the soft buzz of my phone on the shelf. And I felt no need to look at it, rather, I was comforted by the fact that somewhere else in the world someone else was sleepless and I drifted off into a fitful sleep interrupted with fearful thoughts and troubled images.
When my eyes popped open at five in the morning however, I did not get up. I continued to lie in my bed comforted by the warmth of flannel sheets, a fleece blanket and two quilts protecting me from the infamous cold. I listened as my father whistled and sang as he got ready for work. At five thirty, by my phone, i caught the scent of Bacon wafting through the banister and filling the entire house with a fatty salty smell. At 5:41 I listened as the truck was cranked once...FAIL and then again...Success, if at first you do not succeed try try again, and then as the tires rolled over dirt sand and ice signifying the end of the morning concert in the kitchen. I responded to the message still in my phone..."You awake I need advice" and responded...I'm here now and full of advice.
At 6 Am my alarm went off letting me know for certain that a new day had arrived and it was time to face the world. This was when I fell sound asleep for fifteen minutes. Feeling safe that morning had come.
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