Parlez-vous francais?

I always enjoyed French classes in high school. I took French right to grade 12, and then when I registered for university, I decided to take first year French, too. First year French turned into second year French plus a French lit course, which eventually turned into a full blown major. Grammar, translation, phonetics, composition, linguistics, history, liturature, civilization... you name it, I probably did courses in it.

I decided on my major in part because I enjoyed learning a language, but in part because it afforded me lots of variety in the types of courses I took. I loved my classical studies courses, my religious studies courses, my anthopology, astromomy, chemistry, and math courses (ok, no, actually, I hated the math courses), but I didn't want to take as many of any of those as was required for a major. But French? Within the French major, there was so much variety. So I went for it, and filled the rest of my degree with as many different courses as I could.

After I graduated, I decided to go to Chicoutimi, Quebec to do a five week language program. Hey, why not? Becuase of Canada's 2-official-lanuages policy, the government has all kinds of programs to encourage people to learn either English or French. Like the summer language bursary program. Five weeks of language school, staying with a host family, all classes, activities, accomodation and meals paid for. By the government. Yee haw! What I lacked in oral skills in French from uni (that's one area in which my university really sucked!), I picked up in Quebec.

Now that's not to say I'm fluent. No way, no how. But I can carry on a conversation all right. Except when I stumble over not knowing the right words or make terrrible grammar mistakes. Eep! It's all fine and dandy when I'm teaching in French (the kids don't usually notice my mistakes, cause they're not quite there yet, thankfull!) or when I'm talking to other anglophones in French.

But talking to francophones? Yikes. I hate it. I bumble and stumble and mumble and jumble and can't find the right word and make super dumb I-totally-know-how-to-say-that-but-it-just-didn't-come-out-right type mistakes. And all allong in my head, I'm thinking, French is their first language. They're totally noticing all the mistakes I'm making. They must wonder how I'm even able to teach in French without butchering it, or totally messing the kids up... The first year I taught at my school, I didn't teach the French immersion kids, so some of the French teachers didn't even know I spoke the language till I got their kids the next year!

That's totally ridiculous, I know. I think it's a phobia or something. I really need to get over it!

Thankful

• for the sunshine on my face
• for strawberries and brie and sourdough baguettes
• for my sister and a great morning spent catching up
• for the opportunity to take a grade 5 class next year, right when I needed the change
• for the theatre and the plays I've enjoyed all year
• for the lilacs I pass every time I go out or come home
• for my parents, who as of yesterday have been happily married for 33 years (Happy Anniversary Mom and Dad, I love you!)
• for friends who love me and are always there for me (may I do the same for you)
• for those students who keep me sane and remind me why I'm a teacher (and even for the ones who make me question it)
• for a God who doesn't give up on me, ever

Kinda dim - stories of me and my monitor (updated)

Anyone got about $400* $300 they wanna give me? ... You? Ok, great!

Sigh.

I need a new computer monitor. Badly. This one is sooo old. I've already had to adjust some crazy setting so that it doesn't emit a high pitched squeal any time it's turned on. But that means that the screen kinda flickers. I don't notice it so much, but friends have asked me how on earth I deal with it. I just shrug my shoulders. I dunno. But the worse part is, as I recently found out, it makes all my pictures (and yours!) show up really dark. I just thought it was my camera (umm... and... all of your cameras, too... oh boy, I'm not too swift, am I?), and so over the last year or so I have spent HOURS (oh brother I don't even want to think about the hours I spent) "fixing" the colour on my photos. Lighten here, change contrast there, fill flash, brighten.... only to find out that... DUH! It was my monitor. Aaaaaand that all those pics I've posted on my Flickr account? Yeah, they're all heinously washed out. BLAH! I wanna cry! And kinda kick myself for being so dumb! :P

PLUS, a new monitor would fix the twizzled back issue I have with my knees going under the desk on one side, and my monitor being on the other. There's no room for the monitor and the keyboard to be in front of each other on my desk. And so I sit kinda sideways and twisted. And my chiropractor yells at me.

I went to Future Shop today and oogled the whole wall of LCD monitors. I might have drooled a little. Time to start saving some more pennies!


* Paul pointed out in the comments that my estimate was kinda high. He totally blew my cover! I was trying to take you for soem extra cash! Muah hahaaa! Well, ok, maybe not. I was just (badly) estimating on the taxes, warranties, etc. Heck, I'll take the $300, too!

Up Gold Creek without a paddle

Good thing we weren't in a boat. :P

It officially feels like summer should be here. Now. It's sunny and beautiful outside, I'm so ready to be finished teaching, the kids are ready to be done, too, and are starting to go a little squirrley, and this weekend I got a little taste of what I want to spend a whooole lot of time this summer doing: camping!

I went with my friend Michael, who goes camping a lot and is set up with all the gear. We had both had somewhat crazy weeks so he invited me to head up to one of his favourite camping spots in Golden Ears Park, about an hours drive out of Vancouver. We hiked in and set up camp right beside the river underneath a spectacular snow-covered mountain. It was sooo beautiful!

I had heard that there was going to be rain Friday overnight and Saturday morning - exactly the time we were going to be gone - but we went anyway, and Friday night it actually was clear enough to see the stars. There's just something about being out in the middle of nowhere under the stars and falling asleep - in separate tents, don't worry, mom! ;-) - to the sound of the river. Aaahhhhh...

I should really go camping every weekend. It would do my stress level good!

More pictures can be found here!

And the church came a-tumbling down

There's nothing like watching a big machine tear apart a building.

Finally, after about five years of the original wing of my church being condemned (it's still funny to say that my church was condemned!), it was torn down on Friday. I left for work early to watch some of the demolition.

I watched with mixed emotions. All four of my grandparents went there and my parents grew up going there. The part of the building they tore down used to be the sanctuary, but they have long since built a newer wing and turned the old part into a hall. I went to Sunday School in the basement there, and spent many Sunday afternoons running around on the stage in Fellowship Hall waiting for dad to finish up an elders meeting. I remember going to Pioneer Girls a few times while my mom was a leader, and having big family reunions there... I remember my great aunt and her crew bringing trays and trays of those little triangle snadwiches out of the teensie tiny kitchen off in the corner. Ha! I even remember the slightly musty smell the building had in its later years.

On the other hand, I'm so excited for what's to come. There's gonig to be a new wing built there with a much mroe welcoming and open feel, and a waaaay better use of the space. It's going to be great!

Here are a few of the pictures I took before, during, and after...

The old Tabernacle/Fellowship Hall

I love the beams of light and how you can see all three levels of the building - sunday school rooms below, old sanctuary/hall, and the balcony above.

I would think that this would be a really fun job!

It's gone!

Confession Time

Waaaaaay back in February (February 16, to be specific) my wallet was stolen out of my classroom. What a pain. I went about canceling everything and getting all my cards and documentation back. That stuff has all been replaced. The wallet itself, however, well, that's another story.

I have been carrying around my cards, receipts, frequent buyer cards, and general wallet stuff in a ziploc baggie for over two months now. My friends have been mocking me for over a month. I try not to bring it out anymore, I just dig around with it still in my purse and pull out the right cards. If I must bring it out, I always feel the need to explain myself. "My wallet was stolen... " I have even repaired a little hole with scotch tape. I know. Don't even say it. Why didn't you just use another ziploc bag??? Because whenever I was in close proximity of my ziploc bags, I wasn't thinking of it. But mostly because I'm lazy.

See, I'm picky about my wallets. It has to be just right. My last one was great. I was used to it. I had a system. It worked. Finding a new one was just gonna be a pain. Hmm... I seemed to have this issue with my hairdresser, too. She moved away and it took me two years to get my hair cut. Apparently me and change don't like each other too much! Dag nummit. Plus, I'm cheap. I wanted to just go to Bentley to get an el-cheapo wallet that would last me well like my old one did. Forget this $50 for a wallet business. Pshaw! BUT all the Bentley stores are far away from my house - totally out of the way.

Until today. I was actually downtown, and so FINALLY replaced my wallet! Woohoo! It's cute, it was cheap, and it has everything I want.


Now I can lay my trusty ziploc to rest and stop being mocked by pretty much everyone I know. For the ziploc, anyway! ;-)

It's quiet out there in blogland

Everybody seems to be slowing down on the posting these days... myself included. Here's just a quick update.

I've been sick-ish - just a cold, but my how that can knock a person out. I've been sucking back the DayQuil to get me through. DayQuil, how I love thy orange syruppy goodness. I have NO voice at. all. so teaching was pretty amusing today. Most classes I just took outside, the rest I pulled pity trips on and they were pretty good. In a whisper/wheeze: "Now, I can only talk as loud as this, so I'm reeeeeally gonna need your cooperation today.... Remember, I'm sick, and can't talk over you.... *throws a coughing fit, in part for show*" Ah, if only that worked all the time.

I had a fun weekend - despite said cold. Saturday I went for a hike to Norvan Falls in North Vancouver. It was hike numero uno for the season, yippee! Ok, ok, so it was mostly flat, but it was long-ish (14km return) so I feel justified in calling it a hike. Barely, but I do! :-)

I did announcements in both services on Sunday. I'm not sure if I'm gonna do them again once this schedule is done. After countless requests to use "guests" and not "visitors" (ok! I KNOW already, and have always done that!), THREE reminders to not forget the guest card announcement after I had already assured Pastor S that yes, I had done it last time, and Pastor S constantly nodding in the front row after each announcement, it's makin' me kinda paranoid! I love Pastor S, don't get me wrong, but he's freakin' me out! LOL!

I also got to help smash a hole in the wall of my church with a hammer on Sunday (heh heh, it helped get out some announcement frustration!). The original part of the building has been condemned for nearly 5 years now, and FINALLY we've done the initial rebuild fundraiser campaign, gotten all the permits, and are ready to demolish it. We had a little ceremony between services to say goodbye and to start off the demolition/construction project. Anyone who wanted to could take a swing at the wall. It seemed kinda wrong at first, seeing as this was the building where both sets of my grandparents and my parents went to church, and where I went to Sunday school. But I got over that pretty quick and took a few good swings. Hee hee! (photo courtesy of Brian)

I went (indoor) rock climbing for a friend's birthday Sunday evening. So fun! I haven't done that since grade nine, and I'm wondering why the heck not? Mental note: go rock climbing more often. But maybe not for so long next time. Trying to drive afterwards proved difficult as I had ZERO strength in my hands to grip the steering wheel. It's only my relative distaste for ramming into things with my new car that allowed me to muster up the strength to turn the wheel. (Don't I look like a pro in that photo? Ok, ok... so it's not me ;) That was one of our belayers)

Hmmm... what else?

OH! I went to a TUPPERWARE party last week. I know, I know, not that exciting, but it felt totally house-wifey (which is not a bad thing). There were babies everywhere! I totally didn't fit in, but it was fun anyway! I swore high and low I wasn't gonna buy anything... I ended up ordering almost a hundred bucks worth of stuff. And that "forget-me-not" onion holder thingy. I pretty much HAD to have one of those. It keeps onion stink out of the rest of your veggies and hangs on the shelf of the fridge so you don't...er... forget about it. Hence the name. Aren't they clever. Darn Tupperware and their new designer colours and atendee specials!

Well, this is probably the most boring post ever, but meh, what are ya gonna do. I'm off for a run in the beautiful sunshine. Later!

That's one talented baby!

My friends Brent and Adina have a very cute little baby girl. Hannah is just over 5 months old, and boy does she have spunk! She's recently started her own blog. If you've ever wondered what goes through the mind of a baby, go check our her site. Go on, scat! Say a friendly hello from me!

On marriage, divorce, and the like

Marriage is something I am looking forward to one day, if/when (hopefully 'when!') the right person comes along. But lately, I've had some sobering reminders that it's not easy, and nothing makes us invincible when it comes to keeping that relationship together.

I guess I've been thinking about it because recently I have heard of a slew of couples who have either gotten divorced or separated, or whose marriages have very nearly broken up. Some are friends of my parents who have divorced after 25+ years of marriage or who have nearly split up but are together again after counseling. But some are people my own age: friends, acquaintances, friends of friends. Two couples I've learned about in the last two weeks. I think that's what's really making me look at this.

None of these couples are really close friends (though they're friends nonetheless), so I don't know any details of what happened, really - nor is it any of my business. But the two I've learned of in the past two weeks have really tugged at my heart. There is such pain in the words "My spouse left me." I can't even imagine going through something like that, or especially of hearing a spouse say, "I don't love you anymore. Maybe I never did." One of these freinds wrote his reflections here. I ache at the pain in his words.

How do we really know what love is? And isn't it an action, anyway? How can things go so wrong and get to a point where the damage is irreparable? How do you guard against it? I know there are no guarantees, but as someone who wants very much to be married someday, how do people make marriages last? I do have faith in marriage, and I know that it can and does work, and can be the best (not easiest, but best) experience a person can have. I also know that sometimes it doesn't turn out that way.

Man, thinking about my friends and what I can only imagine they are going through makes me feel so immature. I flit around, go to work, hang out with friends, have crushes, whatever. Sometimes I feel like I'm just a silly little teeny bopper. I have nobody else I have to take into consideration, I do whatever I feel like pretty much, and haven't really had to face any major trials in my life. Don't get me wrong, I'm so grateful for that, but sometimes I just feel like a little kid in a grown-up world.

I guess the other thing I'm thinking about is the whole "religious" aspect of divorce. I've heard people say, "Well, the Bible says divorce is wrong," but what kind of a slap in the face is that to those who are going through that kind of pain? Obviously in a perfect world marriages would last "till death do us part," but we are not perfect people. Sometimes a relationship gets so damaged that it can not be put back together the way it was. Can God bring reconciliation? Of course. Will he always bring it? I don't know. And the more I think about it, the more I feel that it's not my job to know. I think that it's more my job as a friend and as a Christian to love my friends, to pray for them, and to be there when they need an ear or a shoulder or a hug.

I think of my friends - and anyone, for that matter - who are going through or have gone through the breakup of their marriages. All I can do is pray for them and their spouses - that there would be reconciliation between them, whether inside or outside of their marriages. I pray that they know peace and have solid, supportive friends to surround them, and that they experience the closeness of Jesus in a way they've never experienced it before. I really believe that their pain is His pain, and that He weeps along with them. I also pray that He will be their strength and their joy, and that they'd know they are held close in His love.

Keepin' up with them Irish

My calves just aren't up to the challenge.

I went to a Ceili (pronounced "kay-lee") on Saturday night. My friend Trudy harassed invited me to go, and it was a blast. The Vancouver Irish Ceili Society puts on a dance once a month with live Irish music and lessons and everything in this little community hall in East Vancouver.

Ceilis are kind of like square dances, but way more fun and are free of the traumatic junior high memories most of us harbour deep within our souls. (I always ended up having to dance with the teacher - how messed up is that?) Sometimes they're done in a great big cirle, somtimes in a line, and even in a triangle. Come to think of it, never once were we in a square. Ok, so they're not really like square dances. But you have a caller and a partner and a "corner." That's about it.

One-two-three-four-five-six-seven, one-two-three, one-two-three! I still can't get that step out of my head!

I went with about four friends, but ended up bumping into a ton of people I knew from elsewhere there, too. Who'da thunk it? The very first person I saw there, other than the lady at the registration table, was one of my students! She's about the cutest thing you ever saw. She's in grade one, has got a GREAT big smile, red hair, is always dressed super colourfully, and LOVES to sing and dance. Last year she sang "I will survive" in front of the whole school for the talent show (680 kids, plus teachers, parents, etc). I heard this bright little voice saying hi to me and I looked down to see Robin's little face grinning at me. She was waving, too, and was kind of excitedly hopping back and forth! Ah! It was SO cute! I offered to be her partner for one of the dances, it was great! All evening she kept pointing me out to her mom and waving at me. Tee hee!

As I looked around the hall, I saw another one of my students there, too! Holy smokes! This was a grade 6 boy, and he saw me too, but I think he was pretty horrified to see me there! As I danced by him I considered teasing him about him being my volunteer to teach these dances to his class on Friday, but I thought I'd spare him the mortification. Muah ha ha!

After the first dance, I also bumped into a friend of mine from high school. What the heck! Apparently these ceilis are the place to be!

I have to say, I thought I wasn't going to like it, but I'm really glad Trudy dragged invited me out!

My calves, on the other hand, are shaking their... um... fists... at her! I guess that's what happens when you spend a whole evening dancing on your tip-toes! Yeowch!

Amazing Love

Nail pierced hands, A wounded side. This is love. This is love.

~~~~~

I’m forgiven because You were forsaken
I’m accepted, You were condemned
I’m alive and well, Your Spirit is within me
Because You died and rose again

Amazing love, how can it be
That You, my King, should die for me?
Amazing love, I know it’s true
It’s my joy to honour You
In all I do, let me honour You

You are my King
You are my King
Jesus You are my King
You are my King

I’m forgiven because You were forsaken
I’m accepted, You were condemned
I’m alive and well, Your Spirit is within me
Because You died and rose again



Lyrics by T. Butler & M. Young; B.J. Foote

It's official...

I handed in the paper to my pricipal today.

She knows I've been trying to decide for a long time, so when I walked into her office with form in hand, I told her, "I have a piece of paper here that if I give to you right now, now, will be the final step in this process. Eeeeeee!"

Yes, I actually said, "eeeeeeee!" in a high squeaky voice with one eye closed and my face all screwed up to my principal. HA!

I handed her the form and recieved a great big smile and a big, "Welcome to intermediate!" (And then about a thousand requests: "You like coaching, right? And I'd really like for you to be on the committee for the later literacy project. And.. and ... and... " AHHH! One step at a time, here people!)

The timing is right, I'm SOOO thankful that God keeps blessing me with the perfect opportunitites at the perfect time, and I'm excited!!!

*does a little happy dance*

That's it. I'm DONE.

Today was terrible. I woke up and I felt like I had a giant fireball in my throat. I should have just called a sub like any sane person would do, but I wasn't ready for the day, and blah blah blah... So I somehow decided that going for a whole day of teaching MUSIC - you know, singing all day - would be a good plan with a throat that makes me wince when I swallow. Someone should have smacked me. I should know from experience that if I think I shouldn't go in and then do anyway, bad things happen. The last time I did that was when I had my car accident that totalled my car.

Well, today wasn't quite THAT bad, but it WAS one of those days when I was SO frustrated with the kids that I was jsut at a loss as to what to do. At one point I even walked over to one of the shelves, slammed my elbows down on it, and let my head fall into my hands. Not terribly professional, but YIKES. That was the calmest thing I could have done at that point.

The only thing that got me through the day was the chocolate fountain at lunch time. Chocolate. Fountain, people. Cascading chocolate you dip fruit and cake into. It's like a fondue but about a million times better. Oh fountain of sweet creamy goodness, where have you BEEN all my life? It was our once-every-two-months staff luncheon today and one of the teachers brought that peice of beautiful splendor for dessert. Mmmmm...

Uh, where was I? Sorry, I got a little sidetracked. :P

Oh yes... bratty kids... So yeah, the afternoon was worse than the morning, and in a perhaps knee-jerk reaction, I made my decision (you may recall all my agonizing over it here and here).

I am moving to the classroom next year. I want the grade five class.

I have been leaning that way for a while, and someone pointed out to me yesterday that there are two jobs available becuase one teacher is transferring to another school, and one is retiring. That being the case, obviously the teacher who is transferring is taking all his materials and everything with him, BUT the teacher who is retiring won't have need for all that stuff anymore, and may be willing to leave some (a lot?) of it for me. I also realized today that I have spent way too many days being frustrated this year - more days by far than I have spend enjoying my job. I don't want to feel like that anymore.

I think the combination of the grade I want, an available job, the possibility of being set up with a bunch of resources, and the crappy day today all factored into my decision. And I feel pretty good about it, actually. I've already been attending workshops with the possibility in mind of being in the classroom, and I'm starting to think through how I want to structure my class and what my expectations and goals are. I'm feeling more and more ok with it.

I told the retiring teacher today, so he's going to start keeping me in mind as he's going through his stuff. I haven't told my principal yet, but I think I'm going to suck it up and do it tomorrow. (So I can have a four day weekend now to start freaking out!) But I'm already starting to look forward to my own class next year. This is the right thing to do.

Now watch, all those kids that were annoying the heck out of me today? I bet they'll all be in my class next year.

Catching up...

Wow, I really haven't been blogging much lately. Life has been whipping by ay lightning speed. I've often thought about an idea for a post, but I've either been far from my computer at the time or too bleary-eyed tired to actually do anything coherent. So here's the run-down of the last little while:

- This is the first night in 10 nights that I have had free. It's all been great stuff, but I'm sooooo tired! (Well, I guess technically I had last Wednesday night free, but only cause I had a mini break down and bailed on my small group - the night I was supposed to lead, no less! Thank you to my wonderful understanding friends who took over for me at the very last minute.

- 'Member how I got all crazy about taking an improv class? Well, I did, it was great, and now I'm on to another obsession: AFRICAN DRUMMING! As a music teacher, I have taken a few workshops as a music teacher on the djembe and I've really enjoyed it. On a whim last summer at a county fair in Washinton, I bought my very own djembe. I rearely play it, cause well, I don't really know how to, and it's really loud. I SOOO want to go down to Spanish Banks (a beach here in Vancouver) and play in the drumming circle they have there every Sunday night in the summers. I just don't think I can handle all the pot smoke. Blah. BUT, my friend Dave and I went to an African evening at a local high school - complete with a Kenyan meal - YUM!!! - African dance and story telling, and drumming. Oh, the drumming. That was it. I'm on the hunt for a class.

- Most people who know me know that I LOVE taking pictures. I take kajillions of them (and about three of them are even good!). I just have an automatic digital camera, and I've wanted to take a photography course to learn more about compostion and how to use an SLR camera. But recently I've been totally inspired by a friend's FAN-TASTIC online photo gallery. This guy has talent. I want to learn to take shots like that! So. Drumming and photography courses are in my near future. Not sure where I'm going to find the time, but I'm sure gonna try.

- I had a super busy weekend playing tour guide to a friend from out of town - beaches, Victoria, and a Vancouver city tour were all part of the package. It was fun getting to show off my little corner of the world. And I learned that sometimes things can be even better than you expected them to be.

- I went to a mind-blowing seminar on Sunday night called "Holy Week: The week that changed the world," given by Darrell Johnson. Darrell is a former missionary and pastor who now teaches preaching at Regent College. I am blown away every time he preaches. His understanding of the Bible and his totally fresh look at who Jesus is just blows my mind. I usually end up weeping after I hear him speak becasue of the new insight I gain into my saviour. Wow. If at all possible, I'm going to post this seminar somewhere so you can hear it. For now, I would highly reccommend going here and listening to his 3 part series called The Main Thing: "The Lamb of God," "The Son of Man," and "The Great I AM" from July 2005. *low wistle* Wow.

I think that's it for now... my tummy is rumbling! :)

Not Your Buddy

A friend of mine recently passed along this article. I read the first paragraph and thought, "WOW. Every single girl (and single guy!) I know needs to read this." Go check it out... I'll wait... really... go read it...

....

OK, so I know only about 0.2% of you actually read the whole thing, so here are the first few paragraphs just to give you a taste:

The other day I was having lunch with a friend and she began to pour out an all-too-familiar story. The guy she'd been hanging out with four nights a week, the one who'd made her a jazz mix CD and asked her to be his date to his office Christmas party, the one who'd gone to late-night movies with her and made her pasta -- that guy -- had crushed her hopes (again) with a single, nonchalant statement: "I don't see myself in a relationship anytime soon." ...

I felt anger well up. This was not the first time I'd heard this story. I could count nearly half a dozen friends who found themselves in this same frustrating situation. After investing months in late night talks, meals together and flirty e-mails, each woman faced the sad reality that the guy actually wasn't planning to upgrade their friendship...

The author goes on to talk about how she asked a guy friend if he thought it was wrong to initiate one on one friendships with a girl, and particularly why he'd continue to act in a way that signaled a relationship when he had no intentions of carrying through on that. The guy's response was basically, "Well, she's going to read into things whatever I do, so if she doesn't say anything, it's ok."

Personally, I have been in a similar situation before (not recently), and have seen very similar things happening with various girlfriends. The girl is interested in the guy, they hang out one on one, have deep conversations, do things that are clearly "date-ish" and the girl is treated differently than other female friends. Then when the girl can't stand it anymore and finally says something, she gets a comment like, "Oh, yeah, don't't feel that way about you, I just see you as a friend."

I can understand how that can feel good - a guy gets an ego boost, gets to hang out with soneone who they (usually) know is into them, and gets all, or most of, the benefits or a relationship without the commitment of a relationship.

Now before you start yelling at me, I am not saying ALL guys are like this. They're absolutely not. And I think the kind of situation described above is tempting for both guys and for girls. BUT... guy or girl, I don't think it's right to act in a way that makes the other person think that you are intending more than you actually are. What is each person's responsibility in that kind of situation? (I'm talking about when one person has a pretty good idea that the other is into him/her. If they're clueless, well, that's a slightly different situation.) For example, if a guy sings to a girl while staring into her eyes, feeds her dessert, rubs her feet, takes her to the symphony, spends hours talking late into the night, etc etc etc, AND he doesn't do that with other girls, what is the girl SUPPOSED to think?

And of course, that leads to the age-old question of can guys and girls be "just friends?" The article proposes three levels of opposite-sex friendship: acquaintances, companions, and intimate friends. The author suggests that if a guy and a girl get to an "intimate friends" level (and I'm not talking physical stuff - I mean more like one on one time together, emotional connection, that kind of thing) it's usually impossible for one or the other not to develop romantic feelings for one another. Do you think that's true? Can guys and girls be just friends? To what extent?

Have you ever been in this kind of situation before where you've felt that you were getting special treatment and then realized that the other person isn't interested "in that way?" What happened? Or do you disagree that this happens or is a problem?

What are your thoughts???

Some good ol' fashioned silliness

I had an April Fool's/Poisson D'Avril party on Saturday night. My stomach hurt I was laughing so much. I have such great, up-for-whatever-I-throw-at-them friends who came over and helped me be a total wing nut for an evening (I'm only a partial wing nut other times).

The instructions? Come dressed inside out/backwards/wacky/all of the above, and be prepared for a zany evening. We played a number of games, one of which was a balloon stomp that ended with my coat tree tipping over, sending my two stacking shoe shelves (and all the shoes on it) flying. We had a backwards spelling bee, and a game where you had to tie your body into knots around a broomstick and then try to untangle yourself. Ouch. We also ended up having a silly string war of sorts in my living room. There may have been a gong, whoopie cushions, and a clapper involved. Weeehaaaw! It was so great to release that inner wacky.

Click here for more pictures.

Annoying

Why is it that the option that seems to make the most sense is also the one that seems farthest from any sort of possibility???

Decision 2006 - update

Last week I wrote about a big decision that's coming up - whether to continue teaching music or to move to the classroom. (The post was loooong. Thank you SO much to everyone who waded through it, and especially to all those who left such encouraging, kind comments! It was much appreciated.).

"Wait a second... 'coming up'?" you ask... Yep. My principal asked me on Wednesday what I was thinking of for next year, and I told her I was still trying to decide, etc, but that not to worry, I would tell her by Friday. She then told me that the form that was supposed to be in by Friday is only really for those wanting to increase or decrease their time, and that I only really had to tell her what I wanted for next year before she sends out the job postings, which is in like MAY. Aaauurrgggghhh!

By the end of last week, I was leaning towards the classroom. Intances like those I had last week with Johnny made me realize that I want to be a safe haven for kids like that - to get to know them - and of course other kids, too - better and to be able to have a deeper impact on them that what I can do as a music teacher. I've also been doing a lot of thinking about passion, and what mine is and how that works into my job (don't worry, GP, it's coming, I promise, though I'll probably be able to tell you before I type it out!). I had a moment of clarity on Thursday, too, when I asked myself, "Could you see yourself doing a whole 'nother year of this?" It was sssllllooow getting started this year, and I felt right out of ideas and inspiration. I couldn't see myeslf doing it again for another year.

But then I went to a music teacher's workshop on Saturday. These workshops are always so fabulous, and I get so many great ideas and get inspired by all the clinicians and even the other teachers there. I know that what I really need to do is to take the Orff courses (a method of teaching music to children) so that I feel more equipped to do this job. But they're in the summer and are expensive. I have to work in July to pay the bills, and that's when the course is offered. I met another music teacher, too, who is going through exactly the same debate. She added another point to my thought process - I've spent three years building up not only the music program, but also a portfolio of sorts AND a whole network of professional contacts. If I go to the classroom, am I throwing that all away?

And so the proverbial pendulum was heading on it's way to one side, but is now back stuck in the middle, and I no longer have an imminent deadline. Time to keep praying.....

A promise

The past few weeks he's been getting worse. Johnny (not his real name), a little boy in the primary grades, never really participated in music, but at least he'd sit off to the side quietly. I gave up trying to make him join in, because the more I'd encourage him, the more he would retreat. Recently, he's been getting more disruptive and his behaviour has been more and more defiant. Johnny, however, is not a typical kid acting up in music.

Just one look at him and how he behaves makes me wonder what life at home is like. Behaviour like this is not a little boy's natural response, that's for sure.

The last two weeks have been the most difficult. Whenever he is asked to do something, he refuses, and just starts muttering, "Hit me... hit me... hit me..." When the other children are waving purple and blue ribbons to look like waves and singing a bright little song, there is Johnny, trying to get in the way of the sticks the ribbons are attatched to so they will hit him, all the while muttering, "Hit me... hit me..." And when I asked him to move so that he was sitting against the wall and not underfoot? "Good, I can bang my head against it." I have heard him ask, to no-one in particular, "Do you want me to kill myself?"

This is a young, young child. That these words are even crossing his lips makes me want to cry.

I don't even know how to respond. I want to whisk him away to a place where he will be safe, where he will be loved. Where he is not afraid. But mostly I just want to cry for him. Jesus, you never meant for it to be like this. You never meant for a child to know such hurt that at eight years old he talks about killing himself. Kids are meant to be hugged and loved and taught to ride bikes and taken to the park to play and reassured that they are safe and nothing in the whole wide world can hurt them, because mommy and daddy are there. Sometimes I don't even know how to pray for him. What do you say? And why does God allow this?

I had Johnny in my class again today. "Hit me... hit me.... hit me...."

He was the last one out of the room today, and as his classmates followed their teacher back to their class, I crouched down, did my best to look him in the eye (he rarely makes eye contact), and took his little hands in mine. He held on.

"Johnny, I will never hit you. I don't want to hurt you. You are a good boy, and I like you. It makes me sad when you ask me to hit you. I will never hurt you. I promise."

He asked some question about the instruments that were behind me. I answered him, then told him again, "I will never hit you... Okay?" He looked at me and said ok as he ran off to catch up with his class.

I wonder if he saw the tears in my eyes.

Big Decisions

I have till Friday to make a huuuge decision, and I'm stumped.

'Tis the season for the teachers at my school to let the principal know if they are thinking about a change for next year - transfers, increases in time, reductions in time, change of grade levels, etc.

At the end of last year, I was so exhausted and was not feeling like I was doing a good job teaching music, and I swore high and low that this year would be my last. Even going back to school this past fall, I was feeling flat out of inspiration. Next year, I told myself, I will try to get into teh classroom. The only condition was that I didn't want to leave my school. I love love love it and all the people there.

As this school year has progressed, it's become public knowledge that there will be three openings in the English intermediate area for next year, which is almost unheard of at my school (everyone else loves it too, and once there, nobody ever wants to leave!). So the possibility of me moving to the classroom is a good one.

I just don't know if I want to.

This is my third year of teaching music. I started out not knowing anything (I majored in French!) and have gone to workshop after workshop, looked at book after book and learned via trial and lots of error. I'm nowhere near the kind of teacher I want to be, but every year gets easier and easier. I'm developing the program such that it's beginning to be consistent (each year, the grade 4's do this, the grade 5's do that ,etc). It's nice, because I go into each progressive year knowing more and more of the background of what the kids have learned the year before, and we can build on that. It's kind of fun, too, knowing every kid in the school. I feel like they're all "my kids." All 680 of them. Yipe. I don't usually have to deal with parents, and my report cards, while there are a lot of them, don't usually take me that long because they're nowhere near as involved. Another BIG plus is that I have less prep and marking than I would working full time as a classroom teacher. This has allowed me to actually have a life, something I'm enjoying very much.

But there are downsides, too. My voice suffers - I'm constantly losing it. It's exhausting, because it's such a "get up and move around" kind of class. I often say I feel like a performing monkey sometimes - I'm either leading singing, or teaching a dance, or trying to keep three groups of kids with instruments in time: "Ok, this group, you follow the rythm I'm doing with my feet. You - follow the rhythm I'm dong with my hands. And you guys, you follow what I'm doing with my mouth." I kid you not. I put on a pretty good show, I have to say! Classroom management is hard, too. The kids see it as a fun time where their regular teacher is not there, and so many tend to act up more than they would normally. It's really hard to follow through with discipline because I only see them once a week for 40 minutes. It's hard to say to an eight year old at 9:30 in the morning, "OK, Johnny, that's it, you've got a detention. Come see me at 3." Yeah right. And day to day consequences can't happen, because by the time I see them again a week later, it's no longer effective. I think the biggest downside is that I feel like because of my lack of formal training as a music teacher, I feel that as much as I want to, I can't give them the musical education they deserve. I go to all these workshops and see these amazing ideas, and I can impliment some of them, but I just don't have the skills to put it all together, and it's discouraging sometimes. It's like not being able to meet your own (probably too high) expectations.

Heading to the classroom would be great in a lot of ways. I'd be able to have my own group of kids, and get to know them on a much bette level than I do now. Right now kids are basically in three categories for me : kids who kick up a fuss in music, kids who are kinda quitet and just play along, and kids who are really talented or especially cute or like me particualry. That sounds terrible now that I write it out like that. I just don't get to know many of them on a level deep enough to see their individual strengths and personality. Being in a classroom would allow me to do that. I think my schedule would be a lot calmer, becuase there would actually be downtimes where the kids are working or whatever, and I wouldn't have to be "on" all day. I would be in control of my own schedule a lot more, instead of having other classes' field trips/projects/whatever interupting my program or switching up my schedule (which happens, it's no big deal, it's just that my schedule would be more my own). I would also get to teach things like art and science and French... all things I miss teaching now. I think overall, this is the better choice for me, except for one thing...

Heading to the classroom would be like starting from the beginning again. The first year of teaching is always tons of work. There's lots of prep, lots of marking, and while it gets easier the more years you do it, teaching is a job that can very easily take over a person's life. I enjoy having time to be involved at my church, or to take a class, or to hang out with friends and family. I've been really fortunate these last three years to be able to do that, and I'm not sure I'm ready to give that up. It might seem paradoxical, but I'm also worried that I'm lazy. I don't know if I would actaully DO the work involved to do a good job. The last thing I want to be is a crappy teacher who just does the bare minimum, takes forever to get kid's work marked and handed back, etc. When thinking about setting up a timetable or a schedule for my class, I feel so overwhelmed. What do I do? Were do I start?

I think when it comes right down to it, the biggest thing I'm worried about is the change: giving up my music program and starting over in something else. I'm also afraid of not knowing how to set boundaries so that I can have the balance between being well prepared and doing all the work required, but not letting it take over my life.

I'm honestly at such a loss. I wonder if the events of the last few weeks are telling me that it's time for a change, but then I was looking around my classroom this morning thinking about packing it up and moving on, and I just had no idea what to do. I eventually want to be in the classroom, and the opportunty is there for next year, but I don't know if I'm ready. I have till Friday to decide.

Anyone want to try to read into my (rather lenghty) ramblings and give me some insight? Cause I just don't know, and it's making me crazy.

Reason # 137 why I love Rick Mercer

Have you seen the Capital One's "Hands in my pocket" ads on TV recently? They're advertising a low fee credit card and comparing it against other companies' higher rates. There's a catchy tune playing the phrase "hands in my pocket" over and over while people go about thier daily lives with a straight-faced, grey haired man in a suit following them around with, well, his hand in their pocket. My favourites are the guy getting dressed in the morning trying to figure out how to put on his pants with the suit dude attatched and the people playing tennis or jogging. Very fun.

Well, Rick Mercer, a Canadian comedian and genius satirist (is that even a word? ... a purveyor of satire), has created a spoof. Thanks for sending it my way, MD!

Temptation

Call it a moment of weakness.

It's been a long time since he and I last met. We'd usually meet for breakfast, or sometimes we'd meet after work or for dinner, but we haven't spent any time together for over a year. Even so, I still run into him every few weeks. Usually I rush on by, doing my best not to think about him. Sometimes I pause for a brief second, wondering if I should give it another go. But no. He's one of those who just isn't good for me no matter how much I want him to be. It's just those eyes. They're the brightest, bluest eyes I've ever seen........No. It's not right. I try to convince myself of this and head on to more grown up, responsible choices.

I saw him again tonight. I met his eyes and I was filled with memories of how it used to be. But as sweet as he tasted on my lips, he never was one to be really deep. He wasn't fulfilling, but he was fun, sometimes nearly addicting.

I'll rationalize it by saying that I'd had a bad day (see below). I was tired. I just wanted something comforting, familiar. I almost walked on by again, but tonight I stopped, I reached out. I'm not proud of it. I guess I'm still a sucker for a man in uniform. He is a Captian, after all. Or should I say, a Cap'n.

His name, you ask?

Cap'n Crunch.

Why do I bother? *UPDATED*

***UPDATED BELOW***

Well, today I officially feel useless.

Before spring break, my grade seven students were all set and ready to perform the project they had been working on since January. It was the last week before spring break, and everybody knew performances were coming. The day before performance day, I found out by accident that one of the teachers had scheduled a last minute field trip to watch a basket ball game and HALF of my students would be gone. It totally screwed up everybody's performances, threw a major wrench in my evaluations and my ability to write report cards, and basically made me feel like the whole term was a big fat waste. The kids had been working for so long on their projects, for what? To not perform them? I was sooo glad that a basketball game was more important than three months worth of student's - and my - effort. Most kids ended up being able to perform, but only after some serious gymnastics with the schedule, and still there were some who just didn't get to do it. Mainly it left me feeling really undervalued.

Cut to spring break. I spent half the week stressing about how to write these report cards for the kids who didn't do their performances, how to work around kids who went on early holidays, etc etc etc. Many hours were spent tallying, writing comment bases, and making sure marks and comments were fair and accurate. I finally finished early this morning, after going to sleep around midnight and getting up at five just to get them done.

A quick explanatory note before I continue: For my intermediate students, I give letter grades every term, but only give comments once. I sent out a note to all teachers about six weeks ago telling them who would be getting comments when and to get back to me if there were problems, because I evaluate things differently if I have to make comments (ie. not just a test score, but what sections they did well on and what sections they had trouble with). It takes way more time to evaluate a class I'm commenting on than one I'm not.

So this morning I handed the results of all that work to a few of the teachers, and I was met with, "Oh, we don't have room on our report cards for comments this term."

It doesn't happen often, but I was speechless. Whaaaa????

What about all that work I just put in, missing a good friend's birthday party in the process? What about the note I sent out asking if you had any problems with getting your comments this term? What about the fact that THIS project that we just finished is the major project for the year and is what needs to be reported on?

The response? "Oh yeah, I got that note a long time ago, but I forgot. Aw, and nobody reads those comments anyway." This was the same teacher who told me before the break to just make up marks for the kids who didn't do their performances.

I wanted to scream. And cry.

I'm so glad I bust my ass every day trying to do the best I can, trying to be fair, trying to do my job properly just to be told that nothing I do really matters anyways. I mean, of course it DOES, which is what makes me so mad, but when I keep comming up against comments and situations like this, I really see how teachers can start to get apathetic.

SIGH. I don't even know if I'm coherent spilling this all out, just all I could think of today is why do I even bother??? Ugh.


***UPDATE:***
After a few of the comments I got on this post, I realized I had to clarify a few things. First of all, this post was written in a moment of frustration. I considered taking it down, or changing it, but decided to keep it as is, whith the explanation that blog entries sometimes are "in the moment" type writing. Things have since worked out - they always do. This post was written in reaction to how I was feeling about my colleague's remarks.

Now, a word about my colleague. This person is an excellent, dedicated, caring teacher. We don't always see eye to eye, but this is a person from whom I can learn a lot. I'm not excusing what this person said, because it was insensitive and frankly made me feel like crap. But nobody is perfect. I still smart a little from the remarks and just the whole situation in general, but life carries on, and I hold no grudge against this teacher.

Good news!

Ding dong, that rat is gone! The exterminators came on Monday while I was at work, yippee!

Cursing my high school chemistry teacher

After I got back from my mini vacation this past week (where I did a whole load of nothing - more on that in a future post), I went hog wild with some spring cleaning. One of the items on my list was to clean out my outdoor storage room, a big part of which involved taking my built-up piles of recycling down to the depot. It had been waaay longer than usual since I had done a recycling run, and my bins were filling up. So long, in fact, that the room was getting a little smelly. [Insert embarrassed look here] *

Anyway, Friday morning I woke up at 6am. I'm on holidays for heaven's sake! Why can't I just sleep in??? I had to be up shortly after for my hair appointment, so I figured I'd just get up and get some stuff done. So by 6:30 am I was in my storage room sorting jars and tins and plastic containers into garbage bags. It took way longer than normal because of how quietly I had to do it! I like me neighbours, and they like me. Jars and tin cans clanging around at 6:30 in the morning would not keep that situation stable for long.

When I was about half way through the sort (and had moved enough stuff out of the way to actually SEE the back of the storage room), I made a discovery.

It wasn't the recycling that was starting to smell.

Way back in the shadowy corner of my storage room was a rectangular piece of wood. Underneath the wood was a furry lifeless lump with a looooong skinny tail. A RAT!!! It had been caught in a trap I didn't even know was there and had been there for I-don't-know-how-long. Long enough to start to stink.

Aieeeeeeeeeee!

Utterly grossed out, I raced out into the fresh air, gulping it in in a desperate attempt to remove rotting rat stink from my nostrils. It was right about then that I began cursing my high school chemistry teacher for teaching us that odours are actually little particles of the real thing that we breathe in.

But, the show must go on, right? I tried to go back in and finish the job. Mind over matter, right? Well it was gag reflex over mind for me. I wretched every time I tried to walk back in the door. It wasn't bad when I thought it was mildly stinky recycling I was smelling, but as soon as I knew I had rotting rat chunks flying up my nose, I just couldn't handle it.

I ended up taking a scarf and wrapping it around my nose and mouth about four times then holding my breath while I sssllloooowwwllllyyyy lowered items into the bags. It's a good thing I was doing this so early, cause if anyone saw me, they would have thought I was a lunatic.

I wrote a note for my landlords right away, which they didn't see till Saturday morning (I wasn't about to call them that early in the morning, and I was out all day after that). They gave me the number of the exterminator, who I promptly called. He told me it would be Wednesday before they could come out, only after swearing at me, asking why I didn't call sooner cause they just had a guy out in my area earlier that day. What the??? No way was I going to wait four days to have this rotting carcass removed. Blech! I told them as much and so supposedly they'll come Monday to come get it. **

But now? It's Sunday night and I just got home and the rotting rat stink is starting to creep into my suite. Just barely, and I only caught a slight whiff when I walked in the door, but still! I think I"m gonna cry. Those guys had BETTER be here tomorrow!

SHUDDER

* Yes, we have home pickup here, but the official bins are kept in my landlord's part of the house and only come out the evening before or day of pickup. I'm never organized enough to know what day it is or to get my stuff out there. The depot is close by, so I don't mind doing it that way.
** I could just grab a bag and take it way, yes, but it's GROSS, and my landlords have paid the company for a one year contract, so they may as well do it.

Snip!

It's about time!

First of all... I have to make a public apology.

You know how sometimes when you're used to something, you don't realize how bad it really is? Kinda like a bad smell. After a while, you don't really notice it. But if you're just passing by, you screw up your face, wave your hand past your nose a few times, plug it, and try not to gag.

Well, that bad smell was my hair. Um, not that my hair smelled bad. It just looked bad. And I mean, B-A-D. Time for an admission here: it has been two full years since I got my hair cut. *shame, shame!* If you're brave, click here for a "before picture", and try not to gag! (Ew, I can't believe I posted that! Deer in headlights, anyone? Fear not: I never actually WORE my hair like that - it's been coralled in a ponytail for the last six months. YAWN.)

Ladies, you'll understand, at least a little bit: my hairdresser, Jenny - a gal who I've known since I was born and who is a fabulous hairdresser - moved away. I know, I know, the guys go, "So WHAT? Go to someone new!" But it's just not that simple! It's so hard to replace a hairdresser! For one, you have to start all over with the "get-to-know-you" chit chat. With Jenny, as soon as I walked in, she'd be asking me for an update about something we had talked about last visit. It's SO about the yak-factor when you're getting your hair done. Plus, she knows my hair (which sometimes has a personality of it's own!). I can say, "Yeah, I liked it last time, do that again" and she knows what I'm talking about. Plus, she's just cool! It was like some of her coolness rubbed off onto me! Ha!

But alas, she now lives in a land far, far away, and, when paired with the gigantic task of finding a new sylist, finding the time for an appointment - I was there for over two hours today - and finding the pennies for a silly haircut - I sure envy the $8 barber shop cuts some of you guys can get. I tried the "Supercuts" $10 haircut once. Never again. - it just kept getting put on the back burner. Mom finally had enough and gave me a gift certificate to her stylist for my birthday to cover a part of the cost. Now I had a stylist, spring break, and some money - no more excuses!

So, off I went today, apprehensively trying out a new hairdresser... She was alright. But she didn't TALK! Who ever heard of a non-talkative hairdresser?!?! Weird. Anyway, it was only after I got home with my new hiarcut - which by the way, turned a few heads as I was walking through the market nearby, go me! - looking at the "before" pictures that I realized how HIDEOUS my hair had gotten!!! Funny how just a simple thing like a hiarcut makes a gal feel SO different! This is my solemn vow to you: I will NEVER go that long without a haircut again!

So here ya go, the new me, yippee!

Dumb blogger!

No no, I haven't banned you! You are always welcome here (and so are your comments, wink wink nudge nudge!). Dumblogger was down again for a looong time and was spreadnig evil nasty lies that you were forbidden to see my blog! Verboten?!?! Never!

Welcome, or welcome back, as the case may be! You are always appreciated here. Unless you're a Meanie McNastypants. Then go away. But the rest of you (and *ahem* your comments *ahem*)... you may stay! :D

I got smacked!

A while back I submitted my blog to "I talk 2 much" for a review. They give out smacks as a rating system, but if they don't like your blog, you might get negative smacks, boots, or even rotten fish. I got three smacks (out of five), which was better than I was expecting! That's the secret, folks, aim low and you'll be satisfied! ;)

Their main critiques:

- My title is too long. Yep, I know it's long, but it says what I want to say about how I feel about my life. That one's staying. If you want to shorten it for a blog roll or something, it can be shortened to "Crazy Beautiful Life" or something like that.
- I had some random stuff in my sidebar, like the name of an old renter above the "Rent My Blog" box. That's gone, and I'll be cleaning up my sidebar some more later in the week when I get back from my mini-holiday.
- They told me I need to shorten my blogroll. I've been meaning to do that, and I'll try to figure out how to put it in a drop down box once I get back from vacation.
- They called my template boring, which it is, and relaxing, which is what I was going for. Yay! It was my first foray into HTML, so I was pretty happy to have figured out how to change colours, borders, formatting, etc. I know, I know, not rocket science, but I'm just learning! :P
- They mentioned my Amazing Race review - which I've done once and not again cause I can't stay awake long enough to see the end of it (I'm dozing by quarter to eleven, no matter how hard I try) and really, I have nothing to say about the show. I like it, I watch it when I can, but I'm no reviewer. *shakes head for even trying*

But all in all, not a bad review. *Grin*

WOOHOO!

This is the best morning!

I woke up this morning with a grin on my face, because I just have four hours of work ahead of me and then it's spring break. My grin turned to glee when I looked outside and saw this:



This is Vancovuer. In March. What the heck?

I don't care that everybody else hates the snow. I love it!!! It makes me happy. In fact, when I saw it I clapped my hands and did a little squeal. EEEEEE! And (of course) grabbed my camera to take a picture.

Hip hip hooray! Today is going to be a lovely day! :)

Friday can't come soon enough

I almost threw up my hands and quit today. I am feeling so overwhelmed, and then the way this week is shaping up, it's just about pushing me over the edge.

Report cards are upon us again, so that means lots of last minute testing and long nights of marking, tallying, and totalling. This is the last week before Spring Break, and so the pressure's on. All this week, the kids are polishing and performing their routines, taking quizzes, and handing in projects. It's do or die time, with no room for error because there's no time left for extensions or excuses.

So, in I walk to my class on Monday, ready for a full day of testing all my classes. I didn't even get through the first period before the principal called me: "Hillary, I'm sorry, I'm going to have to take you out of your classes today to cover Mrs K's grade two class. The district is out of subs again."

Great.

The school board has a ridiculous shortage of teachers-on-call (substitutes). At least twice a week at my school alone somebody calls in for a sub and there ends up being nobody assigned. They end up using a special ed, resource, or English as a second language teacher to cover the class, which means that the kids who need the most support don't get it for that day. Or, they pull a specialty teacher (me) out of their classes for the day, which means the kids miss out on their music class and the classroom teacher misses their prep time for that week. It's not a good scene.

So I got yanked out of my classes Monday, which means, guess what? No tests. No tests equal no marks. Kinda hard to write report cards with no (or very few) marks. Luckily the classroom teachers were able to give the written part of the tests during the time they were supposed to have music, but the playing part of the tests had to go down the tube.

Fast forward to today. I had one more class first period that had to do their test. They were supposed to take the written part of it last week with the substitute when I was away, but - SURPRISE! - they ran out of subs that day, too, so my music classes got cancelled. I was going to cram the two parts into today's class, but just as the kids were settling in, the announcement came over the PA: "Would all grade 4, 5, and 6 classes now please make their way down to the gym for the electrical safety assembly." Wheee. Guess what grade my class was??? Somehow I had missed today's assembly in the staff calendar. Whoopie. No marks for them, either.

At recess, I asked two of the grade seven teachers to please remind their kids to bring all their props/instruments for their performances tomorrow. The kids have been working for about six weeks on a Stomp routine, and this week is performance week. My request was met with the announcement that a whole swack of kids would be away the morning of their performances to go watch the BC Boys Basketball Championships. Super. Just when are they going to perform? And how am I supposed to mark them? If they miss the performance, the last 6 weeks has just been a big waste of time. After some crazy fanangling, we were able to swap some kids around and shuffle others to a different day, and I THINK it's going to work, but wow, is it ever frustrating to have every single attemptat evaluationg my kids thwarted in some way thios week. (Not to mention that I'm sure feeling low on everybody's list of priorities!)

Add to that some extrememely wingy kids (they're just as ready for Spring Break as I am) and a kindergarten girl who had a temper tantrum and ran away not once but twice in one fourty minute period, and you see why this post is waaay longer than I intended it to be.

Two and a half more days... two and a half more days... two and a half more days...

Rant

And rave. And stomp my feet.

FOR HEAVEN'S SAKES, PEOPLE, IF YOU MUST CALL ME TO HAWK SOME PRODUCT OR SERVICE OR ASK ME SOME ENDLESS LIST OF QUESTIONS I MUST STONGLY, SOMEWHAT, OR MILDLY AGREE OR DISAGREE ABOUT, AT LEAST HAVE THE DECENCY TO GREET ME WITH A HUMAN AND NOT SOME SHTINKIN' MACHINE WITH A SUGARY SWEET RECORDED VOICE TELLING ME HOW LUCKY I AM TO HAVE BEEN RANDOMLY SELECTED FROM RESIDENTS OF MY NEIGHBOURHOOD TO RECEIVE BLAH BLAH BLAH AND WHEN I HANG UP ON YOU, DEMON MACHINE, DON'T CALL ME BACK!!! AAAARRRRGGGGG!!!!!

Thus ends my rant. And my horribly long run-on sentence.

PS... Go check out my new renter! I haven't had one in a while. Look right... see that lovely button with sunflowers on it? That's My So Called Ramblings. She's a fun read, go check her out!

Amazing Race Wednesdays

"Dan, we're just gonna have to get dirty." -- "Are you kidding?"

And they're off! The Amazing Race has begun for another season. I got hooked last season two seasons ago (wow, I totally missed the "family edition"), so thought I'd start a discussion board this season for you wonderful folks to chatter about the show!

Some first impressions:

- BJ and Tyler: oh my. After originally thinking they were nuts, I grew to like their kookiness! Not so sure about the orange ruffles, though! :) What was that that one of them said in the helicopter? "Holey Shamolies" or something? Tee hee, that's totally something I would say!
- Eric and Jeremy: Even with girls on the brain ("Were they a mother and daughter, or two hot girls with big b00bs?" "Yeah, we've got to meet them first change we get"), they managed to come in first. Meh.
- Lisa and Joni: the "glamazons." Ha ha, I love it! I'm glad they didn't lose, even if they didn't know there is a difference between Spanish and Portuguese. What the?
- Ray and Yolanda: I was worried for them when she said that they had been dating for years entirely long distance. Yikes... the first time spending ny long period of time together is the Amazing Race?!?! They seemed to get on pretty well. (And I had to laugh at Ray glaring the Brazilians who were catcalling every time Yolanda bent down to work on that bike.)
- Fran and Barry - Oh, I felt sooo bad for them running past that cluebox on the bridge a gazillion times. ARG! I was nearly shouting at the TV, "It's RIGHT THERE!!! LOOK!!!!" I'm glad they made it through, too.
- Dani and Danielle: You have to know that the first line out of a duo dressed entirely in hot pink would be, "I need some makeup and a brush!" For heaven's sake, chickies, the race is like 15 minutes old, and already you're craving your makeup? I'd love to see those two on Survivor. BUT, points to them for dissing the 'frat boys.' *snicker*
- John and Scott: I'm sorry - you get out of your cab in the middle of Sao Paulo, not knowing where to go, not speaking the language, and just start shouting stuff in English to the locals? (Shouting doesn't help them understand you any better, people) AND you spend all your time fighting instead of going somewhere? Yep, that's a recipe for disaster. Buh bye.
- Lake and Michelle: Gee, who's this season's villain? W.O.W. Lake is a serious jerk. And what's with his obsession about "the black people?" Hopefully at least he learned to read the clues before continuing. Neener neener!
- Wanda and Desiree: they seemed to do pretty well. I thought they were in for it, but they work together pretty well.
- That other couple... oh yeah... who were they again? Joseph and Monica - but I only knew that cause I looked them up on the website. Was it just me, or did these two seem invisible this episode? Maybe there were just so many other colourful characters, I dunno.
- THE NERDS! Dave and Lori: I think they're my favourite (gee, could it be cause I'm a nerdball at heart, too?) They just seem so fun, don't care what others thing, and - gasp! - actually get along! I'm rooting for them!

What was your favourite moment? Who do you predict will win? Who do you want to snark about? Discuss!

Vancouver 2010

It's coming! After the olympic flag was handed over to Vancouver's Mayor Sam Sullivan at Sunday's closing ceremonies, all the talk is now about the next winter olympics to be held right here in Vancouver!

Watching the flag get hoisted at city hall today, I have to say, it's pretty exciting! This is such a fabulous place to live, and I'm proud to be a Vancouverite! Yippeee!

And the winner is...

Alrighty, so I'm a week behind on this one, so sue me! :P

A while back I posted a contest to name my car. Becca kept calling it "fluffy puff" or "cream puff" or "powder puff." I created this contest specifically so it wouldn't end up with any of those names. Sorry Bex, I love ya, but no thanks! ;-)

I got some great entries both on the site and offline. Here are some favourite suggestions:

Brent suggested "Remington Steele." I love it! It's a great name, perhaps more apt for a big boat like the one I used to have, but very funny! He wins in the "if only I still had a boat" category.

cjoy suggested "Oscar." She wins in the "make Hillary giggle" category. I may still use that one! It's fun!

Happy and Blue wins in the "make Hillary's jaw drop" category for his suggestion of "The Love Machine." Sorry, no lifestyle changes will be made to accomodate that name! :P

I think the overall prize has to go to Brad, though. On the way to a party one night, he suggested, "You should call it Black Beauty.... cause it's not black." It's just dumb enough to be cool! So till I change my mind (oh how fickle I am) my car will now be called "Black Beauty."

Or maybe Oscar Reminton the black beauty of a love machine. Um, or maybe not.

The cat came back

The cat came back. Sandwiches are beautiful, sandwiches are fine. Through a hollow log. Word Bird........Who are you thinking of? If you said Fred Penner, you're right! (ding ding ding! You win!)

Another teacher at my school goes to a church in Burnaby who was hosting two Fred Penner concerts yesterday afternoon. Before the concerts, however, he gave a workshop for parents and teachers about "Honouring the Child." I heard about it and couldn't pass up the opportunity! So, yesterday, I got to meet Fred Penner!!!

I loved his songs growing up. It was him, Raffi, and Charlotte Diamond all the way, baby. But Fred Penner had a TV show called Fred Penner's Place. Remember it? He'd climb through a hollow log into this magical place with puppets and the Word Bird and special guests and lots of fun! At the workshop, he talked about how when he was a kid, he had a secret hiding place in a little grove of trees that whenever he was upset, he'd crawl into. It was a cozy, protected place for him, and special because it was secret, only he knew about it. So when he was asked to do a show, he wanted to create that same kind of place for kids to enjoy the show. Did you ever notice that before he crawled through the hollow log, he'd look over his shoulder to see if anyone had followed him? :) You can view the show opener by clicking here (scroll down a bit and click play when the page opens)

Fred (can I call him Fred? Mr Penner? Nope, it's gonna have to a full meal deal on the name)... Fred Penner talked about his journey and how he ended up doing what he's doing. He told all kinds of great stories from his childhood and how they connected to what he has done in his life. I was really impressed with how purposeful he's been with his career, and how he's captured the meaning of honouring children. Hearing the stories behind a lot of the songs, they have such fabulous messages for children. They're meaningful, not just fluffy. After his talk he opened the floor up to requests and we had a singalong! Squeee! So fun!

Victory!

For one brief fleeting moment, I was cool in the eyes of some grade 6 skater kids today!!! They forgot their props for a Stomp project they're working on, so we were looking for suitable substitutes. I asked them if all they needed was something to serve as a deck (the part of a skateboard that you stand on).

Skater kid: "Yeah. ... ... hey, wait, did you say deck?"
Me: "Yeah."
Skater kid" "Woah! Cool. A teacher knows what a deck is."
Me (nonchalantly, with a slight toss of my head): "Of course! I know what trucks and ollies are, too."

I walked away listening to the sound of 12 year old boys marvelling at the fact that I, a dumb old out of touch music teacher, actually knew about skateboarding. (Thanks to my brother!)

I am so cool. Booyeah! HAHAHAHA!

Good for the soul

Yesterday was incredibly windy. It was one of those marvelous winter days in Vancouver where the sun shone golden on a fresh snowfall on the mountains and you had to lean forward and fight for every step if you were going to try to walk into the wind. They said it would be blowing near 70 km/hr on the beaches.

What better day for an outing? I decided to take a few hours and enjoy the evening before my improv class.

I drove down Oak Street and took in the views of downtown, nestled between the waters of False Creek and the spectacular North Shore mountains. I made my way a little farther west and parked just at the foot of Granville Street. I walked halfway over the Granville Street Bridge, past bundled up pedestrians scurrying accross the bridge, doing their best to get out of the wind as fast as they could. I took my time, hair whipping my face, hands freezing, and laughing at the absurdity of what I was doing. I soaked up every golden reflection on apartments, every whitecap, every kayaker making their way back in (kayakers?!?! In this weather? They had outriggers, for heavens sake! Gotta love Vancouverites). I headed to the beach to watch the waves crash in and see the sun sink into the ocean. I had to squint as I approached because of all the sand blowing off the beach. It blew past the logs on the beach, making the sidewalks look like desert dunes. I ended up with sand in my pockets, sand in my hair, sand in my socks. I even had to pick sand out of my lip gloss.

I walked out to water's edge, took down my ponytail, stretched out my arms, and twirled. The wind roared, the waves crashed, and the snow on the mountains turned pink as the sun began to set. I worked to control my body against the wind. The only thing that mattered was that moment.

Around and around, hair in my face, salt on my skin, twirling.

Where I'm At...

"If the world didn't suck, we'd all fall off."

That about sums up how I'm feeling right now. Tired of suckage, trying to be optimistic. It's been a year of hits for me - stolen car, totalled car, whiplash, a huge piece of my life (Camp Kawkawa) that had closed down... and now some jerk has stolen my wallet from my classroom.

It happened on Thrusday in the space of about 10 minutes. I ALWAYS lock my classroom, but I share it with another teacher who has lost so many keys that the school won't give her another one, so she just leaves when she's done and leaves the door unlocked. She could send a kid to go get a key from me or from the office, but no. Instead, the door was unlocked and someone - most likely from of the street cause of when and how they used my stuff - went into my classroom and took my wallet out of my purse. Thankfully they only took the wallet and left my cell, digital camera, and palm pilot! But still... all my ID, all my cards.... UUUG! They were quick about using my credit card, too: in the space of half an hour or so they racked up $300 in charges.

BUT, I'm trying to be optimistic. I'm usually such a "glass half-full" kinda gal. I'm struggling right now though. Ok, so at least I still have all the other stuff that was in my purse. Hey, I've got a much better car now. As far as Camp goes, God must have something even better up his sleeve if he allowed Kawkawa to close down.... I'm trying to let those things be at the front of my thinking, but it's hard. I've really had enough.

I'm really tired of people getting away with stuff at my expense. Punks steals my car - $300 please, just to get it back. Some guy decides he doesn't want to stop for a red light? Hey look, Hillary has to buy a new car, see a chiropractor twice a week, and deal with a sore back for three months and counting. Crook steals my wallet - digs it right our of my purse - and now I have to pay to have all my ID prelaced, deal with trying to get new ID without any ID in the first place... *SIGH*.

I promise a happier post tomorrow. Tonight I'm just in a sucky mood. Blah.

A Contest! A Contest!

With prizes and EVERYTHING!

I've had my new car for a month, and - SCANDALOUS! - I still haven't named it. I said a while back that I was going to have a contest on my blog to come up with a great name for my new ride. So now's your chance to get creative!


Get aquainted with my old beastmobile first, then read about my new car. OR if you've always had this burning desire to name a car BabaGanouche or some such ridiculousness, just pick a name based on the picture and run with it! Just leave a comment with your suggestion (and perhaps an explanation of WHY you want to name my car that) below. You've got till midnight Tuesday. Check back on Wednesday to see who the weiner... erm, the winner is.

There are prizes, folks, PRIZES!

Counterbalance

Yesterday, being Valentine's Day and all, the student council had a "Pink/Red/White" day. Everybody was to don their brightest Valentine colours and have a candy-chocolate-sugar filled day of sweetness. It was fun. I had mostly primary kids for music classes yesterday, and they really get into things. Pink and purple and white and red and hearts were EVERYWHERE, especially in the kindergarten class that is made up of twenty girls. No joke. The sea of pink is overwhelming on a normal day, let alone on V-Day! Anyway, it was all very cute. I got deliveries throughout the day of little valentines cards and candies, and we had an extra special goodie day at recess with the best chocolate mousse cake you have ever tasted, hands down.

Well. That was yesterday.

Today I was greeted first period by one of the grade seven classes. They all walked in and took their seats on the carpet, and I found myself looking out over a sea of black. Black hoodies, black blouses, black T-shirts, black sweaters. I laughed and made a comment about the recoil from Valentines day when one student pointed out that I was wearing black, too. I guess one can only take so much sugary sweetness before you run screaming into a gothic funk. I just never expected it to happen so fast.

Valentine's Ramblings

Ok, so I'm not really posting a lot of original thoughts these days... I've been busy and kinda suffering from writer's block. I guess it's just a blog downtime for a bit. BUT, I couldn't let Valentines Day go by without a post, of course.

So, what will it be? A long, self-pitying wistful lament about being single and where are all the quality guys these days? Naw, not my style. (But hey, if ya know any quality guys... hee hee, I'm KIDDING! um, kinda) Or how 'bout a big rant about how Valentines' Day is all just a commercial, overblown holiday and how you should say "I love you" year round, not just on one day. While I agree with that but also will never say no to chocolate, flowers, OR jewelery, I also don't really have the energy for a rant. Hmm... how about wishing all you singles Happy Sad (singles awareness day)? Really.... who makes a holiday called SAD? Naw, none of those really appeals to me.

I will, however, leave you with a rather amusing commentary on Valentine's Day. What did YOU do for V-Day?

My hair keeps sticking to my face...

... and I must have shocked myself about 387 times today. But hey, that's ok! For once I'm lovin' the static electricity, because it means it's actually DRY ENOUGH to be there in the first place. After nearly 6 weeks of rain, dry is very, very welcome!

Hip hip hooray for SUNSHINE!!!!

Confession Time

I took this photo this morning. February 9. Notice the clematis flowers that are BLOOMING outside the window? Christmas Tree.... Clematis. Perhaps it's time to take down the decorations. (This isn't quite as bad as 2003. It took me till March break to get the Christmas stuff down. Um... wait, did I just admit that? heh. heh.)

Laughter... the best medicine!

Blah! I'm home from work for the third day in a row. It's my annual "I have no voice and every time I cough it rip us my throat even more" episode. I feel kinda wussy staying home for that, but uh... kinda hard to teach, let alone teach MUSIC with no voice. Grrrr...

Since laughter is the best medicine, I have to share a few funnies I found in my blog travels... they made me laugh out loud, I hope they will make you do the same!

First, two crazy stories I found over at Anne's place: The Horror of Blimps and Neighbourhood Hazard. I laughed out loud at both of them. True or not, I don't care, they're great!

And then a video I snagged from GiggleChick... it's amazing what a good soundtrack and some editing can do!

I WISH I COULD QUIT YOU, McFLY

My feet are freezing!

Also known as "How slip on shoes and by-law enforcement officers are a bad combo."

Today was the last day to apply for summer school (my source of income for the summer months), and, as usual, it was down to the wire. I had left it till the last second to fill out and drop off my application. I was hastily filling out my application form and wasn't sure if I'd be able to get it in before the office closed at 4pm. As I was running out the front door of my school, I realized I'd left the address for a staff social back in my room. AK! No time! I called over to another teacher who was walking to her car and she rummaged around... she found it and off I went.

24 minutes till the office closes.

Key in ignition, and ruh-ruh-ruh-ruh-ruh-ruuuuooooom. Uh, WHY is my NEW car having issues starting?!?! Oh yeah. The tank is empty. And I don't mean, oops, "I need to get gas soon" empty, I mean, "I reeeeally hope I can get it around the corner, let alone to a gas station cause I've been pushing the 'E' for two days now" empty. tick, tick tick... I decided against trying to push it all the way to the board office. Luckily I made it to a gas station. I pulled up, whipped out my card to pay at the pump, and ARG! I had picked the ONE pump out of ten that DIDN'T have pay-at-the-pump. Glug glug glug goes the gas. Great. There's a line up. I pay, and add a chocolate bar to my total. There's a reason I pay at the pump.

17 minutes to go.

Then I hit traffic. Broadway at 3:45 on a Friday. Brilliant. I kid you not when I say that I hit every single red light.

13 minutes to go. Uh. Slow drivers.
9 minutes to go. Dumb pedestrian! Hurry UP.
6 minutes to go. C'mon c'mon c'mon.
4 minutes to go. Sure, cut me off then turn left. It's ok. Go ahead. JACKASS.

I finally arrive at the board office. Parking is terrible in that area. TERRIBLE. All I'm doing is running in and out. The desk is right at the front door, no line up, nothing, just throw the application in a box. I pull up in front of a car parked at the last meter before a (very long) bus stop. The "no stopping" sign is at the middle of my car. On go the hazards and I bolt.

Now everybody knows that the shortest distance between two points is a straight line, yes? So it would make sense to cut across the lawn/park in front of the office and not take the sidewalk, right? Well. This is no ordinary lawn. Grass, when paired with about 50 days of rain in the last 55 days is no longer grass, but a big muddy yet deceptively green bog. As I was sprinting across the grass, my shoes started to sink in a little, then a lot, then suddenly my stocking-ed foot went SQUISH into the mud. I was running, so there was no time to stop before my OTHER stocking foot SQUISHED down into the mud as well. It took a few steps through mud so deep it covered the tops of my feet before I could stop. Now I had to go back and get my shoes.

Mud, would you believe, has amazing powers of suction. It took some very strong yanking to free my shoes from the ooey gooey mess they had ensnared themselves in.

Shoes in hand, I continued on to the office, tippie-toed into the front door so as to leave as little mud on the floor as possible, practically THREW my forms at the lady, breathlessly mentioning something about the shoe-eating mud outside, then ran back to my car, totally laughing to myself at the absurdity of what just happened.

Before I saw her, I heard a voice saying, "I don't know why you stopped here, I'm gonna have to give you a ticket." I looked up through my rain-soaked glasses to see a metermaid's bright yellow jacket standing in front of my car. She had WATCHED me run through the mud, yank out my shoes, and run back to my car in my SOCKS. The show wasn't long. I figure about a minute and a half. No bus had come. No car had to wait cause I was parked where I was. I was half in a parking zone, and had been gone less than two minutes. I showed her my shoes and my muddy jeans and socks. No dice. I now owe the city $40. Special.

I now had to go home and change before the party. Halfway home, I realized I had a chiropractor appointment that started three minutes before. It was back near the school board. Great. And I didn’t even have my phone handy to call, cause I threw my purse in the trunk along with my socks and shoes.

And now, I'm late for the party. But hey, I've vented, and hopefully you'll find this story as unbelievable (and rather comical, minus the parking ticket) as I do.



What kind of day have YOU had?

Happy Groundhog Day!

What a wierdo tradition. Some rodent comes out of his hole and predicts the weather... Oh well, fun nonetheless. Hope the groundhogs wherever you are predict an early spring!

I've posted my groundhog wishes to you HERE.

Oh yeah, and Happy Birthday to ME! (Dah da-da DAAAAAH!) Lucky me, born on the day of the rodent. This is the first year my age has seemed old! Twenty seven. Huh. 'Course that doesn't mean I have to be mature! ;)