Good day.

Today has been a surprizingly good one!

It's poetry month, and I've got all my students digging deep to write poems about an emotional moment. It could be any emotion, whether happy, sad, angry, scared, nervous, etc. All I asked was that it be true, and they describe how their bodies felt when they had the emotion. Some of them are struggling with that concept, or with the concept of turning a story into a poem.

On the other hand, some of them are getting it, getting it in a way that takes my breath away. Literally. I get all...what's the Yiddish word...verklempt. The kids tease me about it, but they beam with pride when I get so excited. One girl really struggles in my class, but she wrote an amazing poem about her father dying. She had a strong understanding of what words could be omitted and how to break the lines to make it poetic. She also did a great job of explaining how her emotions felt: "I began to shake// like I was freezing.// My mother held me// like she was trying to make me warm." When I told her she got an A on the project (actually, in New York it's by number, so she got a 4), her jaw dropped in disbelief. "Really? A four, Ms. K?" Then she asked me again at the end of the period, perhaps afraid I would change my mind. I don't think she'd ever gotten a top grade in language arts before. I know she never has with me. I'm so proud! And she's just one example.

Eighth period, my students were kind of rowdy. One girl, nicknamed Bzanka, has been driving me nuts lately. Instead of doing her work, she kept leaning back in her chair and distracting the kids behind her. I warned her to stop. Later in the class, she fell and before I could help it, I cracked up. The kids have never heard me all-out laugh before, so that caused all of them to go crazy laughing. Bzanka was fine, and I apologized for laughing at her. I felt a little guilty, but I couldn't stop laughing and my eyes teared up. Not laughing at the silly things my students do (trying to derail my lessons) is part of the job discription, but it felt good to let down my strict facade for a moment.

During the extended day, I was talking to a student about her lateness. She replied that I'm late sometimes, too (which is regrettably true, though I have improved a lot) and that I run on "CPT-- Colored People Time." I admonished her that she shouldn't say racist things, not even against her own race. I added that it was a stereotype. I know lots of black people who are prompt and lots of white people who run late. "Nope," she replied. "It's like my aunt...Grandma says she'll arrive late to her own funeral. I think you're black, Ms. K." Then I realized what she was doing with her teasing.

"I'll take that as a compliment, Monae." Her face broke into a big smile. She was excited that I had recognized her teasing for the compliment it was. Then she gave me "pounds," a show of respect done by tapping her fist against mine.

That reminds me: I've added shaking hands with my students to our classroom routine. They have to shake my hand and tell me they're ready to be scholars before they come into my room. Class 705 used to run into my room, chasing each other. Now they stall for a little bit by refusing to shake hands, or by trying to give me pounds or jive-shakes (there's probably a better term, but I'm not cool enough to know what it is. I'll ask them tomorrow), but once they get in the room, they're more tranquil. Well, April's almost over. Just May and June to go! Wish me luck.

Hooligan

When Tut died, I was really upset-- partly because I loved him and partly because I was losing yet another part of what it meant to be home. At Christmas, it was strange to be in a random apartment instead of the house but it was so comforting to have Tut crawl into my bed in the middle of the night and curl up on my torso, purring.

Hooligan is not exactly comforting. Petting a cat is supposed to be soothing and lower one's blood pressure. Petting Hooligan, on the other hand, requires nerves of steel. At any moment, he could snap and claw you. I was reminded of this the hard way my second day of vacation. I was on the couch, working on my research project, and he jumped up on the back of the couch really near my head. I was happily petting him when he suddenly scratched me. I was rather miffed. Then dad came home and saw Hooligan perched by me.

"Huh," Dad mused. "He doesn't usually do that." Hooligan usually sleeps on chairs that are pushed in at the kitchen table, or under the kitchen island. It turns out, my homecoming was making Hooligan atypically social. He really did like me. He wanted to be near me and lay by my head and purr. He just didn't want me to touch him. Once we came to that understanding, I began to enjoy my furry, purring couch decoration.

Iowa vacation

I had thought I might travel around Iowa visting family, friends and cultural attractions. Did I do any of that? NO! Will I do any of that? No. Thursday Mom picked me up from the airport. It was a fabulous 88 degrees out! We went to a local restaurant for supper, the the Maundy Thursday service at church.

Friday I was getting some much needed rest at the apartment, though I did walk the dog three times in the glorious sun. That night I went to my friend Jessy's pretty new apartment in Johnston to see my Des Moines friends.

Saturday was spent and Unkie and Helen's farm, working the sheep with Mom and Dad. Helen made us a wonderful lunch (pork tenderloin sandwiches!). Then Mom and I decided to pick out a movie to watch together. I wanted one we could all enjoy and that would keep Dad awake, so I got Mr. & Mrs. Smith. I think we all enjoyed it.

Sunday, we went to Waverly to see J.B., Erika and Brooke. Brooke is cute as can be, and smart as a whip. She's not even two and she can already sing the alphabet song. I know that everyone is convinced that their baby relative is the cutest and smartest, but mine actually is.

Yesterday I spent the day working on grad school assignments. Grandma Carol and Grandpa Kenny came over for supper. It was so nice to see them, especially since I didn't get to the last time I was in Iowa. Grandma is toying with writing her memoirs, and she should because it is a dramatic and fascinating story. By the time she was 23, she was widowed with three kids. I told her I didn't know how she managed it. She laughed and said, "I didn't have much choice!"

Today I did more grad school stuff, and that's the plan for tomorrow, too. Tomorrow night, though, I've been envited to my cousin Hannah's concert and supper after. Then, Friday morning, Mom will take me to the airport and I'll fly back to New York. It goes so quickly!

Hoo-ah!

I can do this. The surgical interns on Grey's Anatomy save lives without sleep. Navy Seals fight guerrilla forces without sleep. New parents raise tiny babies without sleep.

I'm a surgical intern, a new parent, a Navy Seal! Okay, no, I am clearly not ANY of those things. I'm a grad student with my Master's portfolio and a major research project due...not to mention lessons to plan (including one for an observation) and papers to grade and students to educate. And all without sufficient sleep.

I'm really trying to get everything done, but I'm not sure I'm going to make it. Oops. Admitting doubt and weakness is not very Navy Seal of me, is it? Well, that's yet another reason why I do not belong in the armed forces.

At least I'm coming home to Iowa on Thursday. Hooray! Then I can sleep.

Long time no blog!

Sorry for the online silence, but life's been a bit boring.

I've been working really hard at work and grad school. It's a case of too much to do and too little time, with everyone expecting so much. No one cares what else I already have on my plate. I know you all can relate to that, right?

Now that I'm single, I have a little more time to get things done. I haven't gotten much chance to use that time so far, though, since I was recovering from the flu. The doctor said sometimes it can take weeks. Ugh. I finally feel better, but I'm still exhausted because of all the stuff I have to do and DAYLIGHT SAVINGS TIME. It throws me off completely.

But right now things are going pretty well with my students. They say the cutest things. Today a student was dawdling at dismissal and I told her to hurry up.

"Miss, for once I want to stay and do my work and you want me to leave."
"Well, I want to go home. You know I have a life outside of school, right?"
"Do you really want me to answer that, Ms. K?"

Ha! The funny thing is, lately she's been pretty much right.

Tut

Mom called Friday with bad news about my gorgeous cat, Tut. We got him when I was 8. I was supposed to just get Sheba, my crazy Siamese (who died when I was 12 after she ate all the strings from a roast).When we went to get Sheba as a tiny kitten, we could hear Tut purring from across the room. Mom instantly knew we had to take him home.

He was a mighty hunter from the beginning. Once, he jumped to catch a fly and landed in the toilet. He was also adventurous. We would come into the kitchen in the morning, and his tiny kitten self was way up on top of the refrigerator. We couldn't quite figure out how he got up there. During a sleepover when I was 13, my friends and I were amused to discover he loved Doritos: he was dragging them out of a bowl on my dresser. And he once caught a bat! I called him my puma, because he was so grand. He would stretch out on my torso. His head would be nestled into my neck. His front legs would be on my chest, his back legs on my hips, and his tail would reach down to my knees. My puma.

He had a stroke, and Mom had to have him put to sleep. She told me earlier this month that his health had declined. It was hard on her to have to do it, but I appreciate it. Poor Mom. She's had to make that decision so many times in my life. It's sad to think I'll never cuddle with him again. It was one of my favorite things about visiting home. I dreamt that I was there when he died, that the whole family, and all the family friends who loved him were there. I was happy to be there for him at the end and woke up crying.

Flu Bug

It's been two weeks since I posted. The Monday and Tuesday after my last post, my students had their big statewide math exam and a nasty stomach flu was going around. Tuesday after the exam, by kids were all stressed out, so I did a readaloud from Freak the Mighty (an excellent book) and started showing the movie version, The Mighty (which is also excellent). I planned to compare them with a Venn Diagram after. The kids were really getting into it. It's a great story of two boys who become friends, and one starts the movie as a struggling reader, but ends it as a writer. Watching my students get so involved, I was smiling. Then I felt like I was going to cry all of a sudden. I wondered what was wrong with me.

Some of you who know me well recognize the foreshadowing."Hmm...Erin mentioned a stomach flu, and she always gets rather emotional when she's sick..."

Yep. I was violently ill, so I had to yell for someone to watch my room, then run to the bathroom. They sent me home shaking and near tears. I had to walk eight blocks to the subway, then ride the train home, hoping the whole time that I wouldn't be ill again. I called the doctor for an appointment. They told me not to come in, but gave me great advice on how to get better. The next day I felt fine, so I went back to work and finished out the week.

Last week was pretty uneventful. I was swamped with work and grad school, and I was exhausted. Friday after work I went to the doctor because I thought I was sick again. They said it was probably more like "sick still," as it can take weeks to fully recover from the recent stomach flu strain. She also said that my recent weightloss seemed okay: at 127 lbs. I'm still in the healthy range and I have a healthy diet. If I inexplicably lose more, I can meet with the Fordham nutritionist, though. She said to rest up this weekend, so I did. I stayed in all weekend, and now I'm more than a little stircrazy. Wish me luck with the busy week ahead.

Gimme a break, gimme a break...

So, it turns out that our real breakup is going almost as well as the semi-breakup went. On Wednesday, Mr. B and I squabbled about how I dismissed my students from class (and I firmly told him to chill out so we could discuss it rationally. He did and we did). Other than that everything has been amiable. Yay!

It's been a busy week with tons of homework from grad school, and my weekend was so boring and solitary. I couldn't get together with my best friends. Lex was off dating. Madrid was celebrating her recent engagement and making wedding plans. Carolina was in Cape Cod for a conference. Laura's boyfriend's dad died of cancer, and (of course) she was very upset.

The negative thing about being a nurturer and independent is that your friends don't always feel the need to nurture you. And this is terrible and selfish, but a death in the family definitely trumps a breakup, so I don't expect to be comforted any time soon. Laura will need it more, and I'll comfort her gladly.

Actually, my out-of-town friends have been stepping up in the comforting-Erin department with calls and online messages. Mom's also been checking in, though she never brings up why. I love you, too, Mom!

And now I have to get ready to go back to work tomorrow where I will face a room full of ghetto tweens. But I'm going to make it...right? Right. Sure. Six and a half months down, just three and a half months to go until summer vacation and, if all goes well, college graduation. If an independent study a few other Fellows and I need gets cleared, I'll be done with my degree by the end of June and officially graduate in August. I might even get to take part in the May graduation ceremony. For now it's all up in the air. Wish me luck.

Break it up, part II

Monday, I was nervous about seeing Mr. B post-breakup, but it went okay. Tuesday he came to my classroom to chat, and the rest of the week he was really friendly.

Wow, I thought to myself, This breakup is going really well!

Then on Friday he called me, and I was so happy to get the call. You see, a part of me hoped he was calling to apologize and get back together. Well, I was half right.

"You seemed really distant all week...like you didn't want to see or talk to me," he said.

"Well, things were awkward, especially on Monday, but that's normal, right?" I replied.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you used the words 'time,' and 'space' and said I could see other people."

"I wanted to think things through and I didn't want you to feel like you had to wait around for me, but I still want to see you. I think this time apart was really good for us. How do you feel about it?"

"Well, I definitely think it's good things didn't go on the way they were with us fighting..."

"Exactly!"

"But...but I'm still stuck on you not trusting me," I said. (During the big fight we had, he implied I lied to him about something. For the record, I was telling the truth.) He told me, again, how he trusts me not to hurt him, but that doesn't mean he has to believe everything I say. He claimed it was petty of me be so focused on that.

"If you want to throw away something that could be good over something so petty, fine," he fumed.

"I can't be with someone who doesn't believe me," I said.

"I'm not asking you to be with me."

"Well, exactly," I replied, "So I hope we can get along like we did this week."

"No, I just meant...why can't we just go out and spend time together without all this committment stuff?"

"What committment stuff? I don't care about committment. Let me put it this way: I can't date someone who doesn't believe me."

"Fine," he responded tersely, "Call me if you change your mind." Say what! That almost made me laugh, the nerve of it.

"Oh," I replied brightly, "I'll do that." But don't hold your breath, I thought.

Break it up!

I think Mr. B. is history. In a post last week I mentioned that Mr. B and I had a big fight. We were supposed to get together this weekend to talk it out, but when I called him to see what was going on, he sounded weird. I said, "Should we break up?" He said "No," but then the words "time," "space" and "see other people" were uttered. So, in other words, we've broken up without actually breaking up.

Don't worry, I'm fine. I will probably miss him, but the fact that we were fighting so much this early in our relationship was a pretty good sign that we weren't meant to be. It is possible that he actually means that he just wants a little time and space, so don't hold me to this broken-up thing...but I doubt it.

Oh, well. I'm a 25-year-old single girl in NYC, and that's not a bad thing to be.

Must not shop...must not shop!

I am in a very materialistic mood. I’m tempted to shop, but instead have decided to focus on some things I love and already own:

My i-pod Shuffle. A gift from Mom and Dad, it supposedly holds 90 songs. I’ve crammed on about 130 songs. It’s the soundtrack of my life, and it makes life’s mundane tasks more fun. It also makes it easier for me to ignore weirdos who try to talk to me on the subway.

Uni-ball Signo gel pens (medium point in 8 colors). These pens are my new favorites, a recent switch from the Pentel RSVP (to which I’d been loyal since high school). The Signo pens are pretty, comfortable to hold, long-lasting and write more smoothly than any gel pen I’ve ever tried. Love, love, love!

Pentel RSVP, I have not completely forsaken you. I recently found the RSVP Mini, which comes with a hole in the cap and a key ring! You can use the hole to tie or hook it to things so the pen doesn’t get lost. I have one in my purse, I’ve tied to my journal, one is hooked into my backpack, and I wear the last one on the lanyard I wear while teaching (yes, I know it’s geeky, but I have to have my keys and a whistle to call deans in case of emergency). The RSVP mini is love of my teaching life! Unlike pens I’ve had in the past, I never misplace it.

Dove Toffee Tango Cookies. The chocolate and toffee layers are luxurious! The shortbread-ish cookie layer keeps it from being too rich. Yum, yum, yum, yum, yum. Warning: It is impossible to just eat the suggested serving size.

Yoga Booty Ballet workout system. The name? Ridiculous and embarrassing. The results? Worth it. For about $40 I got DVDs with 4 workouts and a guided meditation, a little “squeezy ball” and a diet guide. I had to buy my own 3 lbs. handweights for one routine, but they were cheap at a local sporting goods store. Each workout is a weird combination of yoga, funky moves and ballet moves. The diet guide is insane and should be ignored (two days of fasting? I think not!) but the tapes are fun. One is cabaret, one is hip-hop and the other two are generic YBB workouts. The variety keeps me from being bored, and the different workouts are different lengths, so I can pick according to my schedule. I feel energized (and it helps burn the calories from all those Dove Toffee Tango cookies).

Acupressure massages. It is delicious torture. The masseuse’s fingers and knuckles dig in to knotted muscles and attack them until they beg for mercy and you are relieved and relaxed. (Okay, technically this isn't "something I own." It's more of a service I have purchased in the past.)

Stila eye shadow and lip gloss. I use a lot of Estee Lauder makeup, but these Stila products have proved fabulous additions. The eye shadow color is called Crystal, I think, and highlights my brow-bone (as recommended my Carmindy from What Not To Wear). The lip gloss is nearly clear. I have a terrible time finding lipstick because my natural color makes it look weird…I can’t explain it. The Stila salesperson said that was my mistake: “You’ve naturally got a beautiful, strong lip color. Don’t hide it; use something sheer with just a little peach tint so you’re not so pink-pink-pink.” And my makeup life has been so much easier ever since.

Next post, I hope to focus on less-material things I love.

Screaming and dreaming.

Okay, not screaming, but fighting. Oh, the fighting...with Mr. B...again...some more. Why do I put up with it? I don't entirely get it. No, I do get it; sometimes Mr. B is amazing and very sweet and romantic. But during last night's fight...oh, I still cannot believe what he said to me, and I'm not going to print it. The point was that he felt pressured to spend every Saturday with me and didn't like the pressure. Well, he definitely won't have to worry about me asking him to hang out any time soon. Right now Mr. B stands for "Mr. Big Dumb Boyfriend."

Last night, I had a dream that I was putting on a play, and everything was going wrong. I wasn't an actor in the play. I was a stage manager or something, running around trying to keep this calamity of a play going. At one point a pitcher of water was spilled on the stage and me, so I was trying to sneak out the back of the auditorium. Then, a child acting on the stage broke character. Instead of addressing a line to the actors on stage, the little blonde looked at me and said, "What do you think, Erin?" The spotlight operator turned the spot on me, and the audience turned to look at me. Then I began to sing:

"It happens.
Sometimes you lose track
of where you're going.
It happens.
Sometimes you lose track
of who you are.

When that happens,
stop and look around you.
Stop and look within you.
Find that guiding star.

Everyove
trips and stumbles
while walking life's highway.
Everyone
wanders and wonders,
'Am I playing the right part?'

When that happens,
stop and look around you.
Stop and look within you.
That's the place to start."

And then I woke up. Proof I've watched too many cheesy musicals? Could be.

Happy Valentine's Day!

I hope you all had a lovely Valentine's Day. This was only the second Valentine's day of my life with a boyfriend (the last one was Doug way back in 1996. I had my braces removed that day and was cheerleading at a basketball game. He surprised me by showing up with flowers. Aw!).

Saturday, Mr.B and I had Korean food as the snow began to fall. He ended up snowed in at my apartment, and didn't get dug out until late the next day. So Sunday we made omelettes for breakfast and ordered pizza for lunch. I hadn't had pizza in ages. Mmm...pizza.

Mom and Dad's 34th anniversary was Sunday, so I sent them roses. I'm happy for them and proud and feel very lucky to have such a role model for love and relationships lasting a lifetime.

Tuesday I was in my classroom eating lunch with Mr. B when I noticed a gift bag on my desk.

"Did you put that there?" I asked.
"No," he replied.
"Huh," I said, looking quickly at the tag. "No name." I put the bag down and went back to eating.
"What was in the bag?"he asked. I opened it again and saw a cute book (no inscription) and a little box of chocolates, and told him so."Who would care enough to give you that?"
"Maybe Madrid," I replied.
"You know," he mused, "some people would say chocolate isn't good for you."I laughed, because Mr. B has been teasing me that chocolate is directly responsible for my cavities. "So," he continued, "who would care enough about you to get you the small box of chocolates?" I laughed, finally realizing the game and thanked him. "How long would you have kept believing me?"
"Probably forever," I said.
"You're so gullible."
"I've told you before, I'm credulous!"

Then I gave him the card I wrote for him. It was a letter telling him all the things I like best about him. He liked the letter. It wasn't an incredibly romantic day, but it was nice. The thing is, I've always loved Valentine's Day, boyfriend or no boyfriend. I love the way it makes people who aren't normally romantic show people that they care. I like the sugar hearts with the printed messages and the girls walking around proudly carrying roses and the discounted candy February 15. You don't need a significant other for that, but if a Valentine is what you crave, then may a chubby flying infant shoot you with an arrow. Happy hunting!

I don't have the energy to come up with a cute headline.

In my last post, I was raving about my boyfriend's skill in the kitchen. Since then, what's happened? Well, Tuesday I stayed home sick. I had a temperature and a virus, according the the Fordham Health Services staff. Thursday I was supposed to have an observation. I stayed up late the night before trying to prepare...and then my principal stood me up! That night, I went home and slept from 5 p.m. until 6 a.m. the next day (Friday).

Friday night I went to the dentist. Unfortunately, I have some cavities and they have to re-do my root canal. This is the part where I would gripe about my dentist, but one should not speak ill of the dead. In fact, it's probably pretty tacky that I mentioned it at all. I can't help it. I'm crabby because I spent many hundreds of dollars on a painful proceedure...I had to have four fittings for my crown...and now it turns out to be FAULTY! Sorry, I'm a little bitter because my tooth hurts (though only when I eat hot or cold stuff) and I have to get a new root canal and possibly buy a new crown. Grr.

Later that night, I met up with Laura, Carolina and Reesa (I have no idea how to spell her name, actually) for jazz at the planetarium of the Museum of Natural History. Then we had dinner at Mill Korean and dessert at the bakery next door. It was awesome. Then next day, I did not get to see my boyfriend, which was annoying, so I cleaned my room instead and threw out a garbage bag of stuff. I love doing a good purge like that, and now my room looks so cute! And Sunday...I don't really remember Sunday, which is kind of wierd, right? I guess nothing too exciting must have happened.

Monday at school was crazy, because our school switched to extended day, changing my whole schedule. After the extended day, we had a meeting, followed by grad school. It was a very long day.

Today I exercised for the first time in weeks. It feels good to get back to working out! Now I should be grading instead of writing to you fine people. So I guess I should. It's wonderful that you guys are reading my blog and posting! I feel less like I'm talking to myself.

My guy cooks!

It occurs to me that it's been some time since I've given the blog and information on Mr. B. Our relationship's not perfect, but we have a lot of fun together and are a pretty good couple. He is smart, funny, has great taste in music (and is a good musician), is athletic and is a wonderful cook. (He is not photogenic and watches a lot of football, but you can't have it all, right?)

This is the gorgeous surf and turf dinner created for my dining pleasure by Mr. B: steak, lobster tails, rosemary potatos, green beans and chardonnay. He also makes amazing chicken cutlets, home fries, lemon-garlic salad dressing/marinade, chicken thighs, etc. In short he's a culinary genius. He's also really good at taking prefab-food and spicing it or preparing it differently to make it taste great.That's a pretty good metiphor for his role in my life right now. He makes the ordinary stuff in life more palatable. :) Okay, I don't think I'm an emoticon person, but it was worth a shot.

More poetry

I just realized that most of my family has never seen one of my poems, and what is the first one I give them? A rather bittersweet one. So, to balance it out, here are a few that are a bit more approachable.

[Note: I had to remove these poems because I found out lit mags won't publish work that's been published on a blog. Oops.]

Poem Response

Last year, I first read an amazing poem by Philip Booth. A man was teaching his daughter to swim, but he was also teaching her how to approach love without fear. I instantly fell in love with the poem. Then, this week I was inspired to write a responding poem. His is so hopeful and comforting. Mine seems sad and disillusioned, but it's not about giving up. It's about one of those moments when life gives you pause. Here's the original and my response:

First Lesson by Philip Booth

Lie back daughter, let your head
be tipped back in the cup of my hand.
Gently, and I will hold you. Spread
your arms wide, lie out on the stream
and look high at the gulls. A dead-
man's float is face down. You will dive
and swim soon enough where this tidewater
ebbs to the sea. Daughter, believe
me, when you tire on the long thrash
to your island, lie up, and survive.
As you float now, where I held you
and let go, remember when fear
cramps your heart what I told you:
lie gently and wide to the light-year
stars, lie back, and the sea will hold you.

[Note: I had to remove my poem because I found out lit mags won't publish work that's been published on a blog. Oops.]

Sugar high.

Madrid and I went candy shopping today. We spent a good fifteen minutes in the candy isle of a local pharmacy, seriously contemplating which candies to choose. Eventually, I chose Hershey's Dark Chocolate Kisses, Hershey's Hugs and a Big Kat (I wanted a regular KitKat, but they were sold out). Madrid went with Reese's Peanutbutter Cups and a pack of funsized FastBreaks, I think. Oh, but that's not the point.

The point is, in the midst of our serious quest for calories, I realized something--

"Know what's great about being a grownup? You can buy candy whenever you want. Remember when you were a kid and you wanted candy but you couldn't have any?"

"Oh, I know! That was aweful," Madrid replied.

"I was such a sugarholic! When there was no candy around, I would do disgusting things."

"Like what?"

"I would find tubs of Cool Whip my mom had frozen and eat it by the spoonfulls. I would gnaw on blocks of almond bark. I ate straight brown sugar." I didn't even tell her about the "marshmallow salads" Aunt Helen let me make. If I remember correctly, they were just mini-marshmallows, chocolate chips and maybe a couple of raisins. I'm lucky I still have most of my teeth.

"I've got one," Madrid replied. She's a Southern girl, and Southerners are known for their love of sweet tea. She put a new spin on it: "I used to suck on tea bags dipped in sugar. Oh, and I made Life cereal and margarine sandwiches. I would spread some margarine on the edge of my bowl, dip two squares of cereal in the margarine and stick them together to make a tiny sandwich. It's disgusting to me now, but at the time it made perfect sense."

"When I was desperate for s'mores, I'd improvise by putting semisweet chocolate chips and mini-marshmallows between two vanilla wafers and pop it in the microwave."

"Actually, that sounds kind of good."

"It kind of is, and if you don't have chocolate chips and vanilla wafers, you can lick the filling from an Oreo and put the marshmallows between the chocolate cookies."

"Wow, you were inventive...and starving, apparently."

"I went through this phase where I would make toast with strawberry jam every night at midnight. My parent would come into the kitchen: (grumbling in parent voice) 'What are you doing? Go to bed!'"

"And you were like, 'Mom and Dad, I'm STARVING! I am a GROWING girl, and I need the calories!"

"Heh. Those were the days."

Yes, back then we had the metabolism to eat all the candy we want. Now that we no longer have the super-high metabolism, we finally have the autonomy and cash to buy all the candy we want.

Hello, dear family!

After months of blogging, I only recently let any of you know this blog exists; before that, only a couple of my friends knew. Mom says Unkie is already complaining that he wants new entries and is tired of reading old ones. Well, just so you all know, I usually only get to make updates every 7 to ten days because my job and grad school keep me so busy. But now that I actually have an audience, I guess I'll have to try harder. Oh, remember, new posts appear at the top of the page. If you want to read the entries from old months in the archives, click a month and start at the bottom of the page. Then work your way up.

Also, I've changed the settings on my blog to make it easier for you guys to leave comments. Just click the "# comments" on the lower-righthand-side of the post. Type any responses or questions (you can even suggest future post topics or post family news) in the text box. Type your name in the Name box (just ignore the Your Web Page box). Copy the letters in the gray box to the Word Verification slot and click "Publish Your Comment." It sounds way more complicated than it is, I promise.

As for news, I don't have much. The kids were really good Friday, but my boss was aweful. That night I went to a great Spanish restaurant, La Paella, with my friend Laura. I've really missed authentic tapas since I left Spain, and this place makes them really well.

Oh, and I bought a hula hoop! Hee. I haven't been getting enough cardiovascular exercise, and I wanted something small and cheap that I could use in a limited space without disturbing my neigbors. Now I hula hoop while watching TV, and done properly it really gets the heart and lungs going. Besides that, it's fun! I love you guys and hope to hear from you soon.

Hey, Jenny and Sam (if you're reading this), how's your blog coming along?

Happy New Year!

Must be time to update the blog! I went back and added photos to the Iowa entries. Now for the new info! Thursday I went to Unkie and Helen's house for a sleepover. We had a big pizza dinner with my parents; Unkie; Helen; my cousin Karen (who is like my sister); her husband, Lynn (a great pseudo-brother-in-law); and their kids, Connor and Hannah (who I adore). Connor liked his miniature rocket set, and Hannah liked her window painting kit. (It's less messy than it sounds.) Connor and I played chess. He beat me, of course, but I got him down to two chess pieces and we were kind of in a stalemate. We were getting bored, so my king committed suicide.

When I think about staying over and Unkie and Helen's house, I automatically think of pretty quilts over electric blankets. I was not let down. Hannah and I bunked together. I woke up with something in my back. What is that? I wondered, An elbow? A knee? No. It was her head! She had twisted around until she was curled up with her head nestled in my spine. Heh. The next morning, Connor made us ham, egg and cheese sandwiches. It was great to hang out with my cousins and Unkie and Helen.

After that, Mom and I went to see the new house. It's a pre-fab house, and they're buying the model that people tour, so it's got all the bells an whistles. It's a little too airy and modern for me (I like cozy, old-fashioned houses) but it's very nice. My favorite thing was the kitchen. I just wish there were walls!

That afternoon, I had supper with Grandpa Russel and Grandma Norie. Then I dropped Mom and Dad of in Woodward and rushed over to Des Moines for drinks with the ladies at Star Bar. I had a chocolate strawberry concoction and a slice of white raspberry cheesecake while opening presents. Jennifer got me a book I've been covetting for a while. Jessica knitted me a cunning hat and scarf set and gave me two DVDs (in a gorgeous box that I adore). Kelly got me a pretty pink sweater which my boyfriend says looks great on me.

Speaking of the boyfriend, he picked me up from the airport. For lunch we went to Jackson Hole dinner for enormous burgers. Then we hung out at my place while I unpacked. We watched some TV, then had Chinese food while flipping back and forth between a movie (Anger Management...meh.) and a football game (also, meh. At least the food was really good.) Then we joined up with Laura, Madrid and Madrid's boyfriend, Chris, for an amazing house party. (This was my second New Year's Eve at that party.) Laura's boyfriend, Ryan, got off work and showed up before midnight. We had a great time.

On Tuesday, I had to go back to work, which was kind of painful. The kids have been acting all crazy, and they make me want to quit my job. Some of the kids are great, but right now the obnoxious ones are drowning them out (especially class 705), and I'm just not scary enough to keep them in line. To be fair, only the deans and one math teacher, Mr. P, are scary enough, so I can't blame myself too much. Oh, well. I never thought it would be easy.