Tuesday, January 26, 2010


My brain is about to explode with information.

I knew that teaching Logic was going to be difficult for me this year. But oh, how I love it!! I love it when I'm working out the problems at home around my dining room table. When I'm learning something new, I'm a quiet processor. Give me a library and some Pandora Radio tuned to "Piano Solo, Romantic Period," and I can solve all sorts of difficult dilemmas. Give me a classroom with buzzing and sometimes sarcastic eighth graders, and. . . WELL. . . .

But John Milton Gregory clearly tells us that a teacher must have a THOROUGH knowledge of the subject matter being taught in order to transfer information. This is when my brain starts the countdown to explosion. It's not my job to merely understand; it's my job to excel.

Introductory logic was a piece of cake. Intermediate logic is AMAZING! APPLICABLE! FASCINATING! And it makes my brain hurt.


Monday, January 25, 2010

Graduate School

Fafsa Paperwork-check
Sanity- nowhere to be found

If this happens, I'm planning on purchasing a few hippie skirts.

Saturday, January 16, 2010

Saturday Night: Much Different than 1988. . .

It's Saturday night.

As a teenager, it was my obligation to find something fun and exciting to do on Saturday. If I didn't find that opportunity, then I felt deprived or cheated. It seemed like having a good time was a basic human right.

And boy, do I like having a good time.

This week, while snuggling into bed, my teenager insisted that I was ". . . having fun playing with [my] iPhone." To which I vehemently snapped with my eyes, my tone, and clear words: "I'm not having fun, I'm READING THE BIBLE!" My kids thought this response was HILARIOUS, and haven't let me forget it.

Please refrain from judgemental thoughts or comments.

Just like my students don't always appreciate my assignments (but see personal growth nonetheless), so I don't always appreciate the spiritual disciplines (but see personal growth nonetheless).

So on this Saturday Night, I'll be doing some exciting things:
  1. I'll be writing the best Macbeth Test ever written. My cousin Charissa and I happened to be in the same Senior Literature class. We've had years of enjoyment screaming "SEEYYTONNNN!!!!" for no apparent reason. I'm happy to announce that my eighth graders LOVED Macbeth. They're amazing.
  2. Time to study for Intermediate Logic! (EEEEKKK!!!)
  3. Revise and tweek a grant proposal for a summer trip to Oxford. (I'll be shocked if we get this one.)
  4. Should I push that "send" button for my Master's application? We'll see if that happens or not.
  5. The kids are vegging out, watching YouTube "American Idol" clips, playing on their iPods, and watching movies on our LED projector. "Oh, I love technology!"

Saturday night: Much different than 1988. . .

Friday, January 8, 2010

My Mind Has Turned to Mush

Every time I sit down to write a blog post, I end up deleting EVERY. . . SINGLE. . . WORD! I guess it's because I don't want to be a "Negative Nellie."

In fact, I would almost categorize my emotional state these days as "ghastly and horrible." And really, who wants to read all about that? (In fact, I'm afraid my "inner Goth" is coming out. Have you seen me lately? The black eyeliner keeps growing in thickness.)

So, for no particular reason (and with no cohesive topical unity to the above frightful introduction), I'll entertain you with a recap of today thus far:

"My Mind Has Turned to Mush"

- -An exciting dramatic interpretation of a perfectly fine day through the eyes of a melancholy soul who has nothing to complain about but feels like being grumpy anyway.- -

(To the tune of "The Adams Family")

I got out of bed too late.
My kids, dry cereal they ate,
In school to parti-ci-pate,
My mind has turned to mush.

Frankenstein, Don Quixote,
Macbeth and Logic Whoop-ee;
Plato and Wharton you see,
My mind has turned to mush.

Came home and went to Wal-Mart,
(That really wasn't too smart).
I filled the whole dang push cart,
My mind has turned to mush.

I want to get my Master's,
(Will that just prompt disasters?)
I wish I could run faster.
My mind has turned to mush.

(Boo-Hiss, COUGH!, Tomatoes! Boo!) I can only offer my apologies for my inability to sing it for you in person. (Oh ya, and for the poem itself.) But you can do it at home by yourself. All that is required is a bunch of water-based mascara, a truckload of tears, and a good healthy drama-queen attitude.

Never mind. I guess I'm happy after all.

False Alarm! False Alarm! Don't call for the straight jacket!