Well, today was a great success! :D We went to the bridal salon (Affordable Bridal in Buford) to go look at dresses. Amy and I tried on a TON of dresses--maybe about five or six apiece. It was such a fun time. We were so successful in fact that we found my dress! Obviously, because Robert does read this blog, I'm not going to describe my dress. However, suffice to say we all four love it. I can give the hints that I gave Robert already.
1. It's on a hanger, in a bag.
2. It was the last dress of the bunch. The women in the store noticed certain reactions I had to particular elements of mine and Amy's dresses, and they pulled a dress from the mannequin that we didn't previously notice. Aside from a couple of alternations which cannot be named, it fits perfectly.
The women at the bridal store were extremely attentive to the two of us, which was truly worth the experience itself. We just had too much fun! :)
We purchased the dress and veil, and left with both. Everything is hanging in my parents' closet in a white bag.
I'm a happy girl. :)
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Thursday, October 23, 2008
Small joys
Today, in a few hours, Robert and I are going to go do some fun wedding things. In the meantime, he's been at work and I've been doing laundry and grading. Eventually, I need to re-buckle down and get back to studying for my exams. I need to do this sooner rather than later because the pile of books just isn't going away. I'm not feeling as panicky about the studying as I had been after having spoken with some people who have already taken and passed their exams. They gave me wonderful tips for how to read and study, which alleviates a great deal of pressure from me. I feel as though it's more manageable now. I will never be prepared enough, but I will be passably prepared. And that's all that matters.
This is not supposed to be about exams.
Robert and I are going to do fun wedding errands today. We're going into town to look at tuxes (eehehehe!), and then once we're done there, we'll be visiting the local stationary store to look at our invitations and thank-you notes. We're looking at something else for our save-the-dates. I am so thrilled to get to do this with him, and I am even more thrilled that Robert is happy to do this with me, too. We're not the cookie-cutter affianced couple; Robert is not going to disappear until the wedding day, and I am not going to make decisions alone. This makes us happy, even if our parents (or perhaps it's really just my father who's at least voiced it) are skeptical of Robert's interest in the wedding-planning process. He doesn't get as giddy about it as I do, but his joy comes in different ways. As his fiancée, I can recognize when he is enjoying himself--he doesn't have to flail and speak in higher decibels and flit around to prove to me that he's interested in this process.
Another joy that's forthcoming is this weekend. We're going to be extremely busy, but Robert and I are going to Atlanta to visit my parents. Robert will be less busy than I will be...he and Dad will do whatever it is they do when the girls go away. My mom, sister, and I will be doing a great deal of wedding things this weekend. The original plan for this weekend was to go for a light hike up in North Georgia, but Dad's horrible travel schedule would have made the weekend exhausting and stressful. So, we've adjusted. On Saturday sometime (I don't know the full details or where we're going), but Mom has made plans for my sister, our very best friend from childhood who got engaged a few weeks ago (Amy), and myself to go look at wedding gowns. I am so excited! My sister's wedding is still a while off...and she's not engaged yet, but she's still wanting to look. I told her it'd be a good time of year to look because they want to have a winter wedding. I figure this time of the year, they're pulling out their fall/winter stock, so my sister will be able to start getting ideas. Our best friend is getting married sometime in April, a month before me. So she and I are sort of in crunch time. I think the significance of this trip requires some background.
In 1994, when I was 12, my sister was 10, and Amy (our next-door neighbor) was 11, Amy's mom was diagnosed with breast cancer...again. It was my sister's 10th birthday, and Mrs. Bonnie pulled my mom into the kitchen with her (while the three of us girls were playing with my sister's presents) and asked my mom if she felt a lump on Mrs. Bonnie's breast. She had gone into remission--it was so low-key the first time that I don't really remember it. It's the second time that I remember best. Mrs. Bonnie fought that cancer as hard as she could; we were a very strong support system because our two households were strongly interlinked. They had moved into the next-door house months after we had moved into our house, and everyone was close in age. Mr. Sam, Mrs. Bonnie, and my parents were about the same age. Their only daughter was in the middle of mine and my sister's ages. It was perfect. Mr. Sam and Mrs. Bonnie were like second parents for my sister and me. My parents were like second parents for Amy. We loved each other like we were family.
In March, 1996, the cancer killed Mrs. Bonnie. Amy had just turned 13 a month before, I was 14, and my sister was 11. I cannot describe the sadness that overcame both households. Amy had lost her mother. Mr. Sam had lost his closest friend and wife. My mom had lost her best friend. My sister and I had lost our second mom. We were all devastated. Over the years, the healing has been gradual...our households ended up drifting apart because of life issues--Mr. Sam and Amy moved away when I graduated from college. They didn't move far, but they weren't our next-door neighbors anymore. My sister and I were in a different state going to graduate school. Everyone's lives grew in different directions. It makes sense, too...we were all very painful reminders for each other of who we had lost. I think we needed space. We needed to start over.
I'm thrilled to say that in the past couple of years, there has been a great deal of reconciliation and restrengthening of our relationships. I was brought to near hysteria when Amy walked in the door at my engagement party in July--I hadn't seen her in a couple of years, and I wasn't really sure if she was going to be able to come or not. I cannot adequately describe how important it is to have her involved during this time.
Our trip on Saturday carries a great deal of significance for us, as well. After Mrs. Bonnie died, one of the first things Amy said to me in private was, "My mom won't teach me to drive...see me graduate...or be at my wedding." It still brings tears to my eyes to remember that sad fact. I know her wedding will be bittersweet with the absence of her mother. Saturday will be a lot of fun, but I know it will be emotional as well. What girl wouldn't want her mom there while she's trying on wedding dresses for the first time? My mom will serve as a substitute...but she isn't Mrs. Bonnie, and I know that will be thick in the air. Again, I know we will have a wonderful time, and we'll probably be very giddy and silly. But part of me wonders how else Saturday will be like. I'm just happy that we can all be doing this together.
Anyway, despite all the potential sadness, I count this even as a joy. I'm so happy!
This is not supposed to be about exams.
Robert and I are going to do fun wedding errands today. We're going into town to look at tuxes (eehehehe!), and then once we're done there, we'll be visiting the local stationary store to look at our invitations and thank-you notes. We're looking at something else for our save-the-dates. I am so thrilled to get to do this with him, and I am even more thrilled that Robert is happy to do this with me, too. We're not the cookie-cutter affianced couple; Robert is not going to disappear until the wedding day, and I am not going to make decisions alone. This makes us happy, even if our parents (or perhaps it's really just my father who's at least voiced it) are skeptical of Robert's interest in the wedding-planning process. He doesn't get as giddy about it as I do, but his joy comes in different ways. As his fiancée, I can recognize when he is enjoying himself--he doesn't have to flail and speak in higher decibels and flit around to prove to me that he's interested in this process.
Another joy that's forthcoming is this weekend. We're going to be extremely busy, but Robert and I are going to Atlanta to visit my parents. Robert will be less busy than I will be...he and Dad will do whatever it is they do when the girls go away. My mom, sister, and I will be doing a great deal of wedding things this weekend. The original plan for this weekend was to go for a light hike up in North Georgia, but Dad's horrible travel schedule would have made the weekend exhausting and stressful. So, we've adjusted. On Saturday sometime (I don't know the full details or where we're going), but Mom has made plans for my sister, our very best friend from childhood who got engaged a few weeks ago (Amy), and myself to go look at wedding gowns. I am so excited! My sister's wedding is still a while off...and she's not engaged yet, but she's still wanting to look. I told her it'd be a good time of year to look because they want to have a winter wedding. I figure this time of the year, they're pulling out their fall/winter stock, so my sister will be able to start getting ideas. Our best friend is getting married sometime in April, a month before me. So she and I are sort of in crunch time. I think the significance of this trip requires some background.
In 1994, when I was 12, my sister was 10, and Amy (our next-door neighbor) was 11, Amy's mom was diagnosed with breast cancer...again. It was my sister's 10th birthday, and Mrs. Bonnie pulled my mom into the kitchen with her (while the three of us girls were playing with my sister's presents) and asked my mom if she felt a lump on Mrs. Bonnie's breast. She had gone into remission--it was so low-key the first time that I don't really remember it. It's the second time that I remember best. Mrs. Bonnie fought that cancer as hard as she could; we were a very strong support system because our two households were strongly interlinked. They had moved into the next-door house months after we had moved into our house, and everyone was close in age. Mr. Sam, Mrs. Bonnie, and my parents were about the same age. Their only daughter was in the middle of mine and my sister's ages. It was perfect. Mr. Sam and Mrs. Bonnie were like second parents for my sister and me. My parents were like second parents for Amy. We loved each other like we were family.
In March, 1996, the cancer killed Mrs. Bonnie. Amy had just turned 13 a month before, I was 14, and my sister was 11. I cannot describe the sadness that overcame both households. Amy had lost her mother. Mr. Sam had lost his closest friend and wife. My mom had lost her best friend. My sister and I had lost our second mom. We were all devastated. Over the years, the healing has been gradual...our households ended up drifting apart because of life issues--Mr. Sam and Amy moved away when I graduated from college. They didn't move far, but they weren't our next-door neighbors anymore. My sister and I were in a different state going to graduate school. Everyone's lives grew in different directions. It makes sense, too...we were all very painful reminders for each other of who we had lost. I think we needed space. We needed to start over.
I'm thrilled to say that in the past couple of years, there has been a great deal of reconciliation and restrengthening of our relationships. I was brought to near hysteria when Amy walked in the door at my engagement party in July--I hadn't seen her in a couple of years, and I wasn't really sure if she was going to be able to come or not. I cannot adequately describe how important it is to have her involved during this time.
Our trip on Saturday carries a great deal of significance for us, as well. After Mrs. Bonnie died, one of the first things Amy said to me in private was, "My mom won't teach me to drive...see me graduate...or be at my wedding." It still brings tears to my eyes to remember that sad fact. I know her wedding will be bittersweet with the absence of her mother. Saturday will be a lot of fun, but I know it will be emotional as well. What girl wouldn't want her mom there while she's trying on wedding dresses for the first time? My mom will serve as a substitute...but she isn't Mrs. Bonnie, and I know that will be thick in the air. Again, I know we will have a wonderful time, and we'll probably be very giddy and silly. But part of me wonders how else Saturday will be like. I'm just happy that we can all be doing this together.
Anyway, despite all the potential sadness, I count this even as a joy. I'm so happy!
Monday, October 20, 2008
Photo hike
I didn't want to tarnish my fun wedding dress story with the adventure that happened directly afterward. But the short story is that I had a flat tire just after dropping my sister off at her apartment. I had to be towed by AAA, and I had a friend come pick me up.
On Sunday morning, because I didn't have my car, the same friend and I met up with another Amanda at the Forest Ecology Reserve nearby for a photo hike. My friend and I are not very well educated on the operation of our little digital cameras, but the other Amanda (A. Mo for short) is a budding photographer in her own right. So, A. Mo took us to this nice little nature walk and taught us the ins and outs of our cameras as well as rules of photography that would almost guarantee beautiful photos.
I uploaded my photos (uncropped or edited) on Facebook for perusal.
One of the rules that really stuck with me was that we should make the camera see what we see. Keeping that rule in mind, I was able to take much more artistic photographs than I ever have. I'd like to take them to Walgreens for development and then mount them on matboard or something likewise cheap and easy (but that looks nice) and put them in my office. My office has a lot of wall decorations, but many of the things are old and left over from my time here as a Master's student. I would like to throw some of this stuff away (along with their memories and connotations) and start afresh with nicer, calmer images.
On Sunday morning, because I didn't have my car, the same friend and I met up with another Amanda at the Forest Ecology Reserve nearby for a photo hike. My friend and I are not very well educated on the operation of our little digital cameras, but the other Amanda (A. Mo for short) is a budding photographer in her own right. So, A. Mo took us to this nice little nature walk and taught us the ins and outs of our cameras as well as rules of photography that would almost guarantee beautiful photos.
I uploaded my photos (uncropped or edited) on Facebook for perusal.
One of the rules that really stuck with me was that we should make the camera see what we see. Keeping that rule in mind, I was able to take much more artistic photographs than I ever have. I'd like to take them to Walgreens for development and then mount them on matboard or something likewise cheap and easy (but that looks nice) and put them in my office. My office has a lot of wall decorations, but many of the things are old and left over from my time here as a Master's student. I would like to throw some of this stuff away (along with their memories and connotations) and start afresh with nicer, calmer images.
Wedding dress shopping
Now, because my fiancé has access to and occasionally reads this blog, I won't go into many details here except to say that on Saturday morning, my sister and I went to look at wedding dresses. I haven't made it to the "trying-on" stage yet because I still haven't completely found my style, although I did develop a crush on a few dresses this weekend. Maybe I'll start trying them on next weekend when I go shopping with my mom.
We went to David's Bridal, and when we walked in the door, we both looked at each other and said, "Uh-oh." There's a desk at the front of the store, and we were both certain that an appointment was required to walk in and look around. Fortunately, the appointments are for trying the dresses on; customers are asked to register with the store before looking around, but they are welcome to look around by themselves. We started in the bridesmaids section because I wasn't quite ready to leap into the wedding dresses yet--I needed to warm up a little. I showed my sister the dresses I had seen online, letting her comment on the styles that I selected. We looked at bridesmaids dresses for her wedding (which will be about a year and a half after mine--no, she's not engaged yet, but they have a timeline arranged), and I offered my opinions on those styles as well. After about forty-five minutes of bridesmaids dresses, we finally wandered to the other side of the store where the bridal gowns were. We pulled dresses out of the slits in their bags to see them better and to feel the fabrics, remarking on the style and shape and color of the gowns, wondering to ourselves if we were interested in this one or that one. There were about three or four that I ended up referring to as "my dress" by the time we were finished looking around.
Robert, my sister, her boyfriend, and I are all going up to my parents' home next weekend. Mom wants to go looking at wedding dresses with my sister and I, so we're probably going to go do that. I wonder if I'll try anything on! :)
I'm finally starting to get really really excited about the wedding day--up until now, I've been mostly excited about the marriage. The wedding day is starting to materialize into a more realistic vision for me, and I can finally have something to get excited about.
We went to David's Bridal, and when we walked in the door, we both looked at each other and said, "Uh-oh." There's a desk at the front of the store, and we were both certain that an appointment was required to walk in and look around. Fortunately, the appointments are for trying the dresses on; customers are asked to register with the store before looking around, but they are welcome to look around by themselves. We started in the bridesmaids section because I wasn't quite ready to leap into the wedding dresses yet--I needed to warm up a little. I showed my sister the dresses I had seen online, letting her comment on the styles that I selected. We looked at bridesmaids dresses for her wedding (which will be about a year and a half after mine--no, she's not engaged yet, but they have a timeline arranged), and I offered my opinions on those styles as well. After about forty-five minutes of bridesmaids dresses, we finally wandered to the other side of the store where the bridal gowns were. We pulled dresses out of the slits in their bags to see them better and to feel the fabrics, remarking on the style and shape and color of the gowns, wondering to ourselves if we were interested in this one or that one. There were about three or four that I ended up referring to as "my dress" by the time we were finished looking around.
Robert, my sister, her boyfriend, and I are all going up to my parents' home next weekend. Mom wants to go looking at wedding dresses with my sister and I, so we're probably going to go do that. I wonder if I'll try anything on! :)
I'm finally starting to get really really excited about the wedding day--up until now, I've been mostly excited about the marriage. The wedding day is starting to materialize into a more realistic vision for me, and I can finally have something to get excited about.
Classroom woes
After witnessing a high school classroom for the first time since I'd been a student, I returned to my own college classroom, hoping for the relief that comes with knowing that one's students are better than others'. I was disappointed.
On Wednesday, my 2 p.m. class argued with me during a quiz--during a quiz! The way I conduct my quizzes is to call out the questions to them; that way, stragglers are punished for straggling because missed questions are not repeated for latecomers. As I called out questions, my class, who has had several other quizzes thus far, talked the entire time--to me! They were arguing, pleading, wondering aloud, goading me for hints. I had never seen such ridiculous behavior from them all semester. I finally got to a point where I nearly told them to shut up, but I was able to restrain myself mostly. The rest of class was a continuation of that scene as they talked loudly throughout my lecture, trying to get themselves and each other off-topic. Although they were talking to me rather than each other during the quiz and lecture, I found it incredibly distracting for the learning of their classmates. I'll get into learning environments in a moment.
On Friday, my 2 p.m. class decided that they felt like whining. I walked in, and the first sentence directed to me was, "Ms. W, do we have a quiz today?" (Note: this should be read in a whiny voice.) I did not make eye contact and instead looked directly at my notes and said, "No." The student sighed in relief...and then asked, tentatively, "Oh...does that mean we have to have one of those in-class reading responses then?" I just smiled at her and she responded, "NO! Can we please have a quiz instead?? Please??" I shook my head and just went to the board to write the assignment up.
As I had my back turned toward them, I heard, "Oh man, I hate it when it rains. I'm so tired. I can't believe we have to write today. I know, I just had a lot of writing in my last class. Yeah, I had a test in my last class. I have a huge math test after this one, and just want to study today in class instead. Man, my hand is going to hurt so bad after this. My head is going to hurt so bad after this! I just want to go home. Heh, I think I feel like complaining today. Me too, I feel like complaining today, too. Yeah, me too." At this time, I whipped around and said, "How about we all stop complaining, RIGHT NOW?" My students shut up and hung their heads down.
Then, I went on with the lesson for the day, which was to write for the whole hour, focusing almost entirely on arguable thesis statements. I told them, "You will get your second paper assignment next week sometime, and you will not write the same level of papers as you did for the first assignment. They did not meet expectations, and I am not grading papers like that again." So, Friday's in-class response had the goal of practicing argumentation skills. My 2 p.m. class mostly stopped annoying me at that point, although I did have to tell a student to take out his earbuds. He looked at me as if completely stunned and confused--uhm, excuse me, I have a very clear "no cell phones, no music devices" policy. Turn off the damn iPod and write your response; I don't care if music helps you write better. Not in class.
My 3 p.m. class, which is generally as entertaining as an oil painting, generally followed the rules, except that they seemed to blank when I told them they'd be writing for the entire class time. I had a few students come up to me (all packed up and ready to go) at twenty-past to turn in their papers and leave. I shook my head and said, "Sit back down. There's thirty minutes left in class." They'd respond, "But Ms. W, I'm done." I'd respond, "No, you're not. Keep working on it and make it stronger than it is now." What stunned me was that after this exchange took place with one student (loudly in front of a class who made eye contact with me while I reprimanded him), students still attempted to leave early. They got antsy with a couple minutes left in class, but I am not interested in being bullied into dismissing class. So, I lingered a little while on my final class announcements before allowing them to leave.
The frustrations of teaching this age group: they truly believe that they are entitled to an education which they can command to their whims.
On Wednesday, my 2 p.m. class argued with me during a quiz--during a quiz! The way I conduct my quizzes is to call out the questions to them; that way, stragglers are punished for straggling because missed questions are not repeated for latecomers. As I called out questions, my class, who has had several other quizzes thus far, talked the entire time--to me! They were arguing, pleading, wondering aloud, goading me for hints. I had never seen such ridiculous behavior from them all semester. I finally got to a point where I nearly told them to shut up, but I was able to restrain myself mostly. The rest of class was a continuation of that scene as they talked loudly throughout my lecture, trying to get themselves and each other off-topic. Although they were talking to me rather than each other during the quiz and lecture, I found it incredibly distracting for the learning of their classmates. I'll get into learning environments in a moment.
On Friday, my 2 p.m. class decided that they felt like whining. I walked in, and the first sentence directed to me was, "Ms. W, do we have a quiz today?" (Note: this should be read in a whiny voice.) I did not make eye contact and instead looked directly at my notes and said, "No." The student sighed in relief...and then asked, tentatively, "Oh...does that mean we have to have one of those in-class reading responses then?" I just smiled at her and she responded, "NO! Can we please have a quiz instead?? Please??" I shook my head and just went to the board to write the assignment up.
As I had my back turned toward them, I heard, "Oh man, I hate it when it rains. I'm so tired. I can't believe we have to write today. I know, I just had a lot of writing in my last class. Yeah, I had a test in my last class. I have a huge math test after this one, and just want to study today in class instead. Man, my hand is going to hurt so bad after this. My head is going to hurt so bad after this! I just want to go home. Heh, I think I feel like complaining today. Me too, I feel like complaining today, too. Yeah, me too." At this time, I whipped around and said, "How about we all stop complaining, RIGHT NOW?" My students shut up and hung their heads down.
Then, I went on with the lesson for the day, which was to write for the whole hour, focusing almost entirely on arguable thesis statements. I told them, "You will get your second paper assignment next week sometime, and you will not write the same level of papers as you did for the first assignment. They did not meet expectations, and I am not grading papers like that again." So, Friday's in-class response had the goal of practicing argumentation skills. My 2 p.m. class mostly stopped annoying me at that point, although I did have to tell a student to take out his earbuds. He looked at me as if completely stunned and confused--uhm, excuse me, I have a very clear "no cell phones, no music devices" policy. Turn off the damn iPod and write your response; I don't care if music helps you write better. Not in class.
My 3 p.m. class, which is generally as entertaining as an oil painting, generally followed the rules, except that they seemed to blank when I told them they'd be writing for the entire class time. I had a few students come up to me (all packed up and ready to go) at twenty-past to turn in their papers and leave. I shook my head and said, "Sit back down. There's thirty minutes left in class." They'd respond, "But Ms. W, I'm done." I'd respond, "No, you're not. Keep working on it and make it stronger than it is now." What stunned me was that after this exchange took place with one student (loudly in front of a class who made eye contact with me while I reprimanded him), students still attempted to leave early. They got antsy with a couple minutes left in class, but I am not interested in being bullied into dismissing class. So, I lingered a little while on my final class announcements before allowing them to leave.
The frustrations of teaching this age group: they truly believe that they are entitled to an education which they can command to their whims.
Guest lecturing
Last Thursday, Robert and I went to guest lecture at the high school where he had had his internship. We were there to introduce Shakespeare to high school seniors.
When we arrived at the high school, we walked into the office and got our visitor passes. One of the office managers was completely unaware of the change Robert has made, so Robert very diplomatically explained that he was no longer an intern for the high school. He didn't go into details because he knows that there is a reason why everyone has kept the decision under wraps--educators are very big on reputation and appearances, so he respected that. We walked down the hall to his senior classroom, where I proceeded to get butterflies in my stomach. I was starting to feel so nervous and excited and just wanted to get it over with. We made it to his old classroom a few minutes before the bell rang (haha--the bell! It'd been so long since I'd been in a high school!), which scared me when it did ring. I was able to talk to his former lead teacher for a little while about pedagogical interests and techniques as well as the doctoral program.
The students eventually started to file in, and my nerves flitted away--I donned my teaching persona, which is confident and calm. Robert passed out the handout that I created (simply a timeline of important dates in Shakespeare's life), and then I proceeded to sort of talk them through it. I'm not interested in reading handouts to people for a living, so instead I used the handout as a reminder of what year I was discussing, and then elaborated on that particular date. Robert had to interrupt me because he had forgotten to tell me that the lunch bell would ring a few minutes into our lecture. I was pretty bewildered by a lunch bell that rings only fifteen minutes into class, but I didn't protest. He and I hung out in the classroom while his lead teacher and students ran out the door to get Thursday chicken...apparently the cafeteria specialty. I was reminded of NGCSU's Sunday chicken and the mad dash required to procure a tasty piece.
The students returned, and where they had been hungry and lethargic for the first part of the lecture, they were now full and lethargic for the last half. There were quite a few who started to fall asleep on me, so I asked them questions to get them to wake up (as I do in my own college classroom). Once we had finished with the handout, Robert elaborated a little on the play they were reading ("The Scottish Play"...I don't know who might be reading this post within the walls of a theatre ;)). They then became very interested in our engagement and wedding plans. Before we made it to the high school, Robert and I had both hoped that they wouldn't have made that connection because we knew it would distract them and detract from my ethos. But, alas, his lead teacher, when introducing me, said, "And this is Robert's fiancée, Ms. W who is here to talk to us about Shakespeare." *sigh*
Lecturing was fine, although I did thank my lucky stars that I did not go down the secondary education route after all. I had considered it for a time when I was an undergrad, but I ultimately chose English Literature for my degree and then to move on to my MA and PhD. The lead teacher was a nice enough woman, but I wasn't confident in her ability to have control over her classroom. There is an actual limit to what a secondary education teacher can do to control her classroom anyway, and I wasn't sure she was exhausting those limitations. When I lose control over my classroom in college, I have a great deal more freedom, such as kicking students out of the class and then giving them an unexcused absence for the day. Can't do that in high school because then Mom and Dad will be riding Teacher's ass all semester long. As we were walking out, I took Robert's hand and said, "You know...I trusted you before about your decision, but now I think I understand it a lot better. You don't belong there and you would have only been miserable for three more months." We're still awaiting a decision to be made by the admissions committee, although Robert's complete application has been submitted.
When we arrived at the high school, we walked into the office and got our visitor passes. One of the office managers was completely unaware of the change Robert has made, so Robert very diplomatically explained that he was no longer an intern for the high school. He didn't go into details because he knows that there is a reason why everyone has kept the decision under wraps--educators are very big on reputation and appearances, so he respected that. We walked down the hall to his senior classroom, where I proceeded to get butterflies in my stomach. I was starting to feel so nervous and excited and just wanted to get it over with. We made it to his old classroom a few minutes before the bell rang (haha--the bell! It'd been so long since I'd been in a high school!), which scared me when it did ring. I was able to talk to his former lead teacher for a little while about pedagogical interests and techniques as well as the doctoral program.
The students eventually started to file in, and my nerves flitted away--I donned my teaching persona, which is confident and calm. Robert passed out the handout that I created (simply a timeline of important dates in Shakespeare's life), and then I proceeded to sort of talk them through it. I'm not interested in reading handouts to people for a living, so instead I used the handout as a reminder of what year I was discussing, and then elaborated on that particular date. Robert had to interrupt me because he had forgotten to tell me that the lunch bell would ring a few minutes into our lecture. I was pretty bewildered by a lunch bell that rings only fifteen minutes into class, but I didn't protest. He and I hung out in the classroom while his lead teacher and students ran out the door to get Thursday chicken...apparently the cafeteria specialty. I was reminded of NGCSU's Sunday chicken and the mad dash required to procure a tasty piece.
The students returned, and where they had been hungry and lethargic for the first part of the lecture, they were now full and lethargic for the last half. There were quite a few who started to fall asleep on me, so I asked them questions to get them to wake up (as I do in my own college classroom). Once we had finished with the handout, Robert elaborated a little on the play they were reading ("The Scottish Play"...I don't know who might be reading this post within the walls of a theatre ;)). They then became very interested in our engagement and wedding plans. Before we made it to the high school, Robert and I had both hoped that they wouldn't have made that connection because we knew it would distract them and detract from my ethos. But, alas, his lead teacher, when introducing me, said, "And this is Robert's fiancée, Ms. W who is here to talk to us about Shakespeare." *sigh*
Lecturing was fine, although I did thank my lucky stars that I did not go down the secondary education route after all. I had considered it for a time when I was an undergrad, but I ultimately chose English Literature for my degree and then to move on to my MA and PhD. The lead teacher was a nice enough woman, but I wasn't confident in her ability to have control over her classroom. There is an actual limit to what a secondary education teacher can do to control her classroom anyway, and I wasn't sure she was exhausting those limitations. When I lose control over my classroom in college, I have a great deal more freedom, such as kicking students out of the class and then giving them an unexcused absence for the day. Can't do that in high school because then Mom and Dad will be riding Teacher's ass all semester long. As we were walking out, I took Robert's hand and said, "You know...I trusted you before about your decision, but now I think I understand it a lot better. You don't belong there and you would have only been miserable for three more months." We're still awaiting a decision to be made by the admissions committee, although Robert's complete application has been submitted.
Running Class
This running class is really starting to get to me. I spent a great deal of the past several runs feeling miserable, unmotivated, and discouraged. My sister and I have decided that the class is too advanced for us, but since we've already paid we're not going to give up. Instead, we're going to tailor our own running experience based entirely on our individual needs. We both bought our own stopwatches, and we're going to run at our own intervals. When those intervals become too difficult, then we will increase them accordingly. I don't want to quit this class entirely, but I do need proper motivation. Feeling like a loser after every run is not the way to motivate me.
I don't want to seem as though the instructor is bad or is doing anything wrong herself. She's not. The only shortcoming I can identify is that she was overly ambitious in her goals--thinking that everyone who signed up for the class would be capable of the pace and intervals that she set out is not quite accurate. Some of us are recovering from surgery. Some of us aren't very active, and what activity we do get is not from running. Some of us don't exercise as frequently as the class meets and aren't used to putting our bodies through such rigor. My sister and I meet most of those categories (although I meet all of them); so we're going to do this our own way.
Today, when we get to the gym, we are going to run around the lake at the old interval of 2 minutes running, 4 minutes walking. Last week the class did 5 minutes running, 2.5 minutes walking. I didn't. I ran on the treadmill for 3 and 3. (But I've been learning that treadmill training is much different and easier than running on the concrete.) This week, I think the class will be going for 7 minutes running, 2 minutes walking. I know that there is no way I'd be able to do that at this point. And it isn't for want of trying--my body just isn't ready for that level of intensity. So, my sister and I will be doing the best we can.
And it's like what we've been telling each other and ourselves: nobody can fault us for moving, even if we are moving differently from the rest of the class.
I'm hoping that changing the pace according to our needs will give me a better sense of accomplishment and motivation.
I don't want to seem as though the instructor is bad or is doing anything wrong herself. She's not. The only shortcoming I can identify is that she was overly ambitious in her goals--thinking that everyone who signed up for the class would be capable of the pace and intervals that she set out is not quite accurate. Some of us are recovering from surgery. Some of us aren't very active, and what activity we do get is not from running. Some of us don't exercise as frequently as the class meets and aren't used to putting our bodies through such rigor. My sister and I meet most of those categories (although I meet all of them); so we're going to do this our own way.
Today, when we get to the gym, we are going to run around the lake at the old interval of 2 minutes running, 4 minutes walking. Last week the class did 5 minutes running, 2.5 minutes walking. I didn't. I ran on the treadmill for 3 and 3. (But I've been learning that treadmill training is much different and easier than running on the concrete.) This week, I think the class will be going for 7 minutes running, 2 minutes walking. I know that there is no way I'd be able to do that at this point. And it isn't for want of trying--my body just isn't ready for that level of intensity. So, my sister and I will be doing the best we can.
And it's like what we've been telling each other and ourselves: nobody can fault us for moving, even if we are moving differently from the rest of the class.
I'm hoping that changing the pace according to our needs will give me a better sense of accomplishment and motivation.
Mole biopsy result
I had to call the dermatologist over two weeks after my mole had been biopsied (half a week after they had told me to expect a phone call from them). There are two parts to the results:
1. It's not melanoma.
2. It is an atypical cluster of cells.
The good news is that it was small enough to be entirely removed for the biopsy and the margins were clean, so I wasn't required to return to the dermatologist (who won't be covered by my insurance anyway). Although it wasn't melanoma, this was the second mole in under a year that I've had removed from my body to come back as atypical. The first mole was labeled as "moderately atypical," which is between mild and severe, meaning that it wasn't a scary threat, but it was a threat nonetheless. This one didn't have a label other than "atypical," so I'm guessing that means it wasn't severe. The different qualifications of atypicality have to do with the number of atypical cells floating around in the biopsy, as well as their frequency and proximity with each other. My paternal aunt does have melanoma, and apparently there is a (newly revealed) family history of aggressive melanoma on my father's side. This is newly revealed because my grandmother does not ever want to discuss unpleasantries, no matter whose medical records it hurts.
What this means for me is that I will have yearly mole checks from a dermatologist to remove any new or malformed moles. I have to keep a very close watch on my skin from now on, which can be a little difficult, considering that my body is covered in freckles. Fortunately, I, like most freckled people, know the pattern of my freckles, and will be able to keep track of most changes...although, it is true that there are some cases when freckles migrate or grow, so I'll certainly be watching out for new developments.
I'm relieved it wasn't melanoma, but I'm annoyed that it was atypical at all. Part of me just wishes that the biopsy had come back clean. But maybe then I'd be annoyed for having a very large wound on my hip for nothing. The biopsy site still hasn't completely healed, although it has mostly stopped hurting--every once in a while I have a twinge where it's healing.
1. It's not melanoma.
2. It is an atypical cluster of cells.
The good news is that it was small enough to be entirely removed for the biopsy and the margins were clean, so I wasn't required to return to the dermatologist (who won't be covered by my insurance anyway). Although it wasn't melanoma, this was the second mole in under a year that I've had removed from my body to come back as atypical. The first mole was labeled as "moderately atypical," which is between mild and severe, meaning that it wasn't a scary threat, but it was a threat nonetheless. This one didn't have a label other than "atypical," so I'm guessing that means it wasn't severe. The different qualifications of atypicality have to do with the number of atypical cells floating around in the biopsy, as well as their frequency and proximity with each other. My paternal aunt does have melanoma, and apparently there is a (newly revealed) family history of aggressive melanoma on my father's side. This is newly revealed because my grandmother does not ever want to discuss unpleasantries, no matter whose medical records it hurts.
What this means for me is that I will have yearly mole checks from a dermatologist to remove any new or malformed moles. I have to keep a very close watch on my skin from now on, which can be a little difficult, considering that my body is covered in freckles. Fortunately, I, like most freckled people, know the pattern of my freckles, and will be able to keep track of most changes...although, it is true that there are some cases when freckles migrate or grow, so I'll certainly be watching out for new developments.
I'm relieved it wasn't melanoma, but I'm annoyed that it was atypical at all. Part of me just wishes that the biopsy had come back clean. But maybe then I'd be annoyed for having a very large wound on my hip for nothing. The biopsy site still hasn't completely healed, although it has mostly stopped hurting--every once in a while I have a twinge where it's healing.
Post series
Okay, because I've been away from the blogosphere for quite some time, I have a number of topics to discuss--to do this in an orderly fashion, I'll be posting a series of blogs in the next several minutes. The discussion topics will be:
1. Mole biopsy result
2. Running class
3. Guest lecturing
4. Classroom woes
5. Wedding dress shopping
6. Photo hike
They will be discussed in this order, so if there is something you are particularly interested in, then you can easily go to that post.
1. Mole biopsy result
2. Running class
3. Guest lecturing
4. Classroom woes
5. Wedding dress shopping
6. Photo hike
They will be discussed in this order, so if there is something you are particularly interested in, then you can easily go to that post.
Thursday, October 9, 2008
Hoping it will be worth it...
This may be TMI, but I don't really care...only my friends read my blog, I'm sure, so I'll share this. I am a typical woman. And I suffer from horrible cramps when I'm on my period. Since I've started birth control a year ago, I've noticed several improvements, including regularity, mood maintenance, and lessening of painful symptoms. The birth control cannot stop all symptoms from appearing, but it sure does make a difference. Whereas up to a year ago, I would suffer at least two to two and a half weeks out of the month (bleeding only the one week, but experiencing pain and mood swings for the majority of the month), with the birth control I only suffer for a couple of days (not weeks!) during my menstruation, which is such a relief.
Although I do have modern medicine to be grateful for, I still feel a little grumpy when I'm in pain (even for the couple of days). And today's theme? Asking Robert to promise me it'll be worth it.
I have felt so sick and in so much pain today. I didn't go to my running class, and I felt really horrible for skipping out, but I knew I'd be worthless. I'll make it up tomorrow, because the good news is that tomorrow will likely be much less painful.
There are brief moments when I'm on my period, when I'm feeling ridiculously sensitive and irrational, that I wonder, "what if I'm not as fertile as I seem? What if we can't get pregnant? Am I wasting all this energy (and money!) on a bum pair of ovaries?" It's silly because I've never been tested for fertility, Robert and I have certainly never tried to have children, and we're not interested in having children right away anyway.
It's silliness, is what it is. But Robert's been a wonderful sport. And, I suppose all-in-all, despite what our future holds for us (children or none...though we both really hope we do have children in our future), what makes all of this worth it is knowing that even in my moments of complete irrationality, Robert will be supportive and compassionate. Sometimes it's about reminding oneself about the value in the little things.
On a different note, I helped Robert clean up his room today. He did the work in the bathroom (the place sparkles now!), and I focused on some laundry, reorganizing his dresser and most of the closet. After we were both finished with our tasks, we ended up going through some boxes that had just sort of accumulated on the perimeter of the bedroom. Now that it's straightened up, the room looks so much larger. Sometimes I get in these cleaning moods, and this one hit right when my cramps hit, ha...bad timing, but I didn't notice the pain because I was focused on helping Robert. It was actually kind of fun working on his room with him--we joked about some of the stuff we were coming across and whether or not it needed to be saved. Now, I'm not going to go as far as to say that I enjoy cleaning, but I am good at it (thanks, Mom). And I'm really rather proud of the work we did today.
Is it possible to have a nesting feeling before getting married?
Although I do have modern medicine to be grateful for, I still feel a little grumpy when I'm in pain (even for the couple of days). And today's theme? Asking Robert to promise me it'll be worth it.
I have felt so sick and in so much pain today. I didn't go to my running class, and I felt really horrible for skipping out, but I knew I'd be worthless. I'll make it up tomorrow, because the good news is that tomorrow will likely be much less painful.
There are brief moments when I'm on my period, when I'm feeling ridiculously sensitive and irrational, that I wonder, "what if I'm not as fertile as I seem? What if we can't get pregnant? Am I wasting all this energy (and money!) on a bum pair of ovaries?" It's silly because I've never been tested for fertility, Robert and I have certainly never tried to have children, and we're not interested in having children right away anyway.
It's silliness, is what it is. But Robert's been a wonderful sport. And, I suppose all-in-all, despite what our future holds for us (children or none...though we both really hope we do have children in our future), what makes all of this worth it is knowing that even in my moments of complete irrationality, Robert will be supportive and compassionate. Sometimes it's about reminding oneself about the value in the little things.
On a different note, I helped Robert clean up his room today. He did the work in the bathroom (the place sparkles now!), and I focused on some laundry, reorganizing his dresser and most of the closet. After we were both finished with our tasks, we ended up going through some boxes that had just sort of accumulated on the perimeter of the bedroom. Now that it's straightened up, the room looks so much larger. Sometimes I get in these cleaning moods, and this one hit right when my cramps hit, ha...bad timing, but I didn't notice the pain because I was focused on helping Robert. It was actually kind of fun working on his room with him--we joked about some of the stuff we were coming across and whether or not it needed to be saved. Now, I'm not going to go as far as to say that I enjoy cleaning, but I am good at it (thanks, Mom). And I'm really rather proud of the work we did today.
Is it possible to have a nesting feeling before getting married?
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
Grading Fool
The name of the playlist I have on my iPod when I'm grading is called "Grading Fool." I labeled it that way nearly five years ago when I got my first iPod and when I was just starting out as a teacher. Who knew the name, which was initially just "cute," would have grown to be so apropros just a few measly semesters later? (Well, not technically "measly," considering I did receive my vaccine when I was just a kid.)
I felt like a grading fool all last week to last night. I graded 60 papers, with comments, 60 midterms, and 60 quizzes. After grading all that material, I then created a midterm grade worksheet (showing them my math so they can double-check, if they're so inclined) and calculated their grades. I felt like I was under the gun last night to have everything accomplished--today is mid-semester, which means it is the final day to safely withdraw from any class at the university. ("Safely" here means "without grade penalty.") My department requires that the students should have a sizable percentage of their grades both recorded and returned to them before the drop date. I figure "before the drop date" also means "before midnight on the drop day," because that's when my students will receive their midterm grades. I figured their quiz grades, which is difficult because I (like a madwoman) have created the policy to drop the two lowest quiz grades from their average. As we haven't taken all the quizzes yet, I had to figure out their quiz grade "so far," which is likely to fluctuate throughout the rest of the semester, considering I had to drop the two lowest grades "so far." It was a frustrating and tedious night. But Robert helped me out in many ways, one of which was to cook me dinner.
He came over with chicken breasts, Italian dressing, fettucini noodles, and Alfredo sauce--he marinated the chicken in the dressing, and served it over the fettucini Alfredo. This was his first experience making a cream sauce, so he learned the invaluable lesson of constant stirring...and constant stirring on the bottom of the pot. Unfortunately, some of it burned on the bottom (rookie mistake--happened to me plenty of times), but the great thing was that the sauce still tasted delicious and the chicken covered up any of the burnt flavor. I certainly didn't notice it...mostly because I inhaled that dinner. It was so tasty! I truly appreciate the help he gave me last night and the dinner he made for us--I don't know if I would have made it to bed by 11:30 without his help. In fact, I'm pretty confident I wouldn't have.
We've had a few days (since Saturday) that simply make me want to be married right now. I love that man and I can't wait for these past few days to be our norm.
I felt like a grading fool all last week to last night. I graded 60 papers, with comments, 60 midterms, and 60 quizzes. After grading all that material, I then created a midterm grade worksheet (showing them my math so they can double-check, if they're so inclined) and calculated their grades. I felt like I was under the gun last night to have everything accomplished--today is mid-semester, which means it is the final day to safely withdraw from any class at the university. ("Safely" here means "without grade penalty.") My department requires that the students should have a sizable percentage of their grades both recorded and returned to them before the drop date. I figure "before the drop date" also means "before midnight on the drop day," because that's when my students will receive their midterm grades. I figured their quiz grades, which is difficult because I (like a madwoman) have created the policy to drop the two lowest quiz grades from their average. As we haven't taken all the quizzes yet, I had to figure out their quiz grade "so far," which is likely to fluctuate throughout the rest of the semester, considering I had to drop the two lowest grades "so far." It was a frustrating and tedious night. But Robert helped me out in many ways, one of which was to cook me dinner.
He came over with chicken breasts, Italian dressing, fettucini noodles, and Alfredo sauce--he marinated the chicken in the dressing, and served it over the fettucini Alfredo. This was his first experience making a cream sauce, so he learned the invaluable lesson of constant stirring...and constant stirring on the bottom of the pot. Unfortunately, some of it burned on the bottom (rookie mistake--happened to me plenty of times), but the great thing was that the sauce still tasted delicious and the chicken covered up any of the burnt flavor. I certainly didn't notice it...mostly because I inhaled that dinner. It was so tasty! I truly appreciate the help he gave me last night and the dinner he made for us--I don't know if I would have made it to bed by 11:30 without his help. In fact, I'm pretty confident I wouldn't have.
We've had a few days (since Saturday) that simply make me want to be married right now. I love that man and I can't wait for these past few days to be our norm.
Saturday, October 4, 2008
What a week
I'm so glad this week is over. It has been a little too brutal for my tastes, honestly. I won't do the daily recap like I did last Saturday, just because I realize that can be a bit mind-numbing and boring. But here are the highlights:
1. Robert's New Plan
I can officially talk about this now that everything is pretty well taken care of. Robert has been the most depressed and unhappy I've ever seen him these past five weeks. At first I thought it was because of the commute and horrible hours. He was going to bed no later than 9:30, trying to be asleep no later than 10, and then waking up between 4 and 4:15 the next morning. This was because he had his internship across state lines in the Eastern time zone. As the weeks wore on, though, it became clearer that it wasn't the schedule that was wearing thin (although we begrudgingly adjusted and with some difficulty). Rather, it was the actual work in the high school that was causing the problem--teaching at the high school level comes with restrictions and political hoops that are absent (or in a modified form) at the college level. Robert was actually teaching his students like a college professor...and rather than being praised for his high standards, he was berated and degraded. There were several moments when I was close to tracking down his critics (who I judged were criticizing unfairly) and wanted to defend him to them.
The new plan, then, is that he will be withdrawing from the education department on Monday, which will end his Masters in Education. He is, however, only two courses, exams, and a thesis away from obtaining his Master of Arts in English literature. He has begun the application process and will be reviewed by the admissions committee in the coming month. We have our fingers crossed for a Spring semester admission and a potential teaching assistantship in the Fall. Why such a change? Because Robert has always talked about teaching at the college level, for as long as I have known him. He wasn't sure he could be successful in the M.A. program and took the "easier" route, not knowing that the M.Ed. would lead him to a career in which he'd be miserable. I know he'll be happier with this new plan.
Yes, this means considerable changes for our future. Rather than being married and having him slated to teach full-time at the high school, we will both still be in school and relying on a smaller income. However, the opportunity for him to break into instructorships at the college level has presented itself, and we're going to take it as it is. I am confident that this is the smartest long-term plan for us.
2. Running class
We started running this week, 2 minutes at a time. Next week we move up to 3 minutes at a time, and I must say...I'm skeptical. I was struggling to make it for more than a full minute last week, and I'm worried that I won't be able to do the 3-minute run. I feel foolish because three minutes of running doesn't seem like a very long time, but it truly was difficult for me. I'm going to keep going and keep trying, though.
I guess that's all I really have for this week. It's been trying and difficult and drawn-out, and now I'm just exhausted. I have a ton of papers to finish grading today, so I better get through those.
1. Robert's New Plan
I can officially talk about this now that everything is pretty well taken care of. Robert has been the most depressed and unhappy I've ever seen him these past five weeks. At first I thought it was because of the commute and horrible hours. He was going to bed no later than 9:30, trying to be asleep no later than 10, and then waking up between 4 and 4:15 the next morning. This was because he had his internship across state lines in the Eastern time zone. As the weeks wore on, though, it became clearer that it wasn't the schedule that was wearing thin (although we begrudgingly adjusted and with some difficulty). Rather, it was the actual work in the high school that was causing the problem--teaching at the high school level comes with restrictions and political hoops that are absent (or in a modified form) at the college level. Robert was actually teaching his students like a college professor...and rather than being praised for his high standards, he was berated and degraded. There were several moments when I was close to tracking down his critics (who I judged were criticizing unfairly) and wanted to defend him to them.
The new plan, then, is that he will be withdrawing from the education department on Monday, which will end his Masters in Education. He is, however, only two courses, exams, and a thesis away from obtaining his Master of Arts in English literature. He has begun the application process and will be reviewed by the admissions committee in the coming month. We have our fingers crossed for a Spring semester admission and a potential teaching assistantship in the Fall. Why such a change? Because Robert has always talked about teaching at the college level, for as long as I have known him. He wasn't sure he could be successful in the M.A. program and took the "easier" route, not knowing that the M.Ed. would lead him to a career in which he'd be miserable. I know he'll be happier with this new plan.
Yes, this means considerable changes for our future. Rather than being married and having him slated to teach full-time at the high school, we will both still be in school and relying on a smaller income. However, the opportunity for him to break into instructorships at the college level has presented itself, and we're going to take it as it is. I am confident that this is the smartest long-term plan for us.
2. Running class
We started running this week, 2 minutes at a time. Next week we move up to 3 minutes at a time, and I must say...I'm skeptical. I was struggling to make it for more than a full minute last week, and I'm worried that I won't be able to do the 3-minute run. I feel foolish because three minutes of running doesn't seem like a very long time, but it truly was difficult for me. I'm going to keep going and keep trying, though.
I guess that's all I really have for this week. It's been trying and difficult and drawn-out, and now I'm just exhausted. I have a ton of papers to finish grading today, so I better get through those.
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