I Used to be a Girl Scout

Poppin' some antibiotics.... coughin' my lungs up... nothing says bloggin' while laying on the couch, sick as a dog.  Here goes.

When I was in elementary school my best friend, B, was in Girl Scouts (GS) and kept raving about the camping trips.  Growing up in a military household and always being stationed, this was never an option for me.  We never knew when we would be moving.  I wanted to do everything B did (especially camping) and so I decided to join.  The meetings were held in a church directly across from my elementary school.  And the only way to get back into the classroom was to enter through the front and follow the maze of hallways....  this was the only way to exit the church as well. 

One might think that this was no big deal.  Well, let me tell you that this church was also a funeral home.  And the funeral parlor was right off the main hallway, right by the entrance.  When you are little and your parents just drop you off at the front door to walk to GSs alone, you become scared.  Add a dark hallway and a bunch of caskets and you become mortified.  While I desperately wanted to go camping with B and the rest of the GS I become so close to, I never wanted to go to the meetings.  But, in order to go camping I had to attend a certain amount of meetings.

I remember how lucky I felt when I would get dropped off at the exact time that one of my other friends was being dropped off... This helped subside the fear a lot.  Sometimes I would just wait into the foyer until someone else came.  Most times I would conjure up my courage and just walk/run to the meeting room.  It usually looked something like this:

1. Walk into the foyer.
2. Walk down the hall until I got to the door of the funeral parlor room.
3. Stop at the door and wait for ___ mins. (varied by how brave I was feeling)
4. Hold my breath.
5. Peer into the room.
6. See open casket.
7. Run past the door and down the hallway. 
8. Round the corner.
9. Stop running.
10. Start breathing.
11. Walk to meeting room.
12. Repeat on the way back if walking back alone.

I look back and laugh about how scared I used to be walking past the funeral parlor.  I will never know if there were dead bodies in the caskets - I would assume not, but one can never be sure.  One thing that I will always wonder though... why I wouldn't just ask my parents to walk me into the meeting room. 

Cleaning

I finally checked out of school for the summer.  And here is what my classroom looks like now:

So I'm sitting in M's room watching her clean/clear her room.  She had WAY more stuff than I did (teaching a lower grade for many more years) so it's taking her a lot longer.  On a competely different note, I'm happy to report that M will be joining my 2nd grade team next year and I couldn't be more excited.  Reading Buddies EVERYDAY?!  Mayhaps.  :)

As I'm watching her clean while writing this blog (read: I'm a horrible friend) it got me to thinking about my past and how I used to LOVE cleaning.  I can't say that I completely hate cleaning today - some of my favorite things to do are cleaning out my closet, doing laundry, and washing dishes but when I was younger I was into it a lot more.  I think I can contribute that to growing up with my grandparents living with us and I was just used to it.  

My favorite and most vivid memory was when I was in elementary school.  I used to be huge into Disney and princesses (me?  I know, right?).  I used to fall for the whole story line where the Princess, who lived a horrible life, would be saved by the Prince Charming.  This is the part that gets sort of embarrassing.  The house we used to live in had a carport.  When my parents would go to work during the summers, I would purposefully go get handfuls of dirt and rocks and scatter them around the carport floor.  I would lace up my roller skates, grab the broom and roll around the carport sweeping the dirt and rocks out of the carport.  Oh, its gets better... while I was doing this (and hoping my Prince Charming would come sweep me off my feet) I would be singing Disney songs.  I'm pretty sure I did this almost everyday.

So, in conclusion.  I was, and still am, a huge nerd. 

Schools out.... For the summer

So I'm sitting on a bus to NYC and figured this would be a good time to blog since I've been MIA the past few days. You wanna know why? School is fucking over! I've been too busy packing my classroom, putting files together while the kids watch movie after movie, having parties and watching kickball games. Sound a little like babysitting? Yeah, we'll that's usually what the last week usually is. But I tell ya what.. Kids like to help you clean an pack. Which I guess is helpful if you get someone good. I was all too happy to see my students go (most of them). I even shed a tear as we were waving the busses off. But then I got in my car and went with friends to drink some adult grape juice. The server even bought us a round of celebratory shots. See, everyone is so excited for us! It still doesn't feel like it's over. Yesterday was the greatest day so far this year.... Schools out for the summer!

even the sun sets in paradise

I currently have this song on repeat... in the classroom, in my car, at home... I love it.  The more I listen to it, the more infatuated I become with Adam Levine.  Yes, he has herpes.  Yes, he wear skinnier jeans than I do... but damnit if he doesn't ooze sex appeal.  The other night I went to C.G. and watched a band I'd seen many times before perform.  This time was different.  Maybe it's because I'm single... or maybe it's because of what the lead singer was wearing (mohawk, tie, glasses - yumsicles)... but I was smitten.  The lead singer is married... but I couldn't help but think that my next boyfriend should be a musician.  Ahhh, there's nothing better than hearing a great voice, watching them strum their guitar all the while having eye-sex with them from the audience.  Magical.

I digress.  Here is the explicit version of Payphone by Maroon 5. 

The other day I was doing writing workshop and I got to thinking that I wanted to hear some music.   Now, my students are no stranger to hip-hop.  They actually know more songs than I do.  So, being that there was only 4 days left of school, I decided that it would be a nice treat and put on some Pandora.  Usually we listen to Classical or Kidz Bop, but this time I decided that we should listen to Top Hits.  Huge mistake.

The first song to come on was Payphone... and I was jamming out.  And my students were jamming out.  All of a sudden, Wiz Khalifa comes on and does his rap.  And something was said that shouldn't be said in the classroom.... and the students around me were like "awwwwwww".  So the other table (thank God they didn't hear) was all like "what?"  As I'm frantically trying to click off of Pandora one of the students next to me goes "he said a bad word." 

And as if, the skies parted and God's voice came down from Heaven, one of my students says "I Can't?  Those are bad words in Ms. K's class."  Yup!  A+ for that student... I can't.  They rapped I Can't.  That's the story I'm sticking to.  Phew!  Crisis averted.  

The Biebs

So I really enjoy Justin Bieber's song Boyfriend.  It's so mature and he channels Justin Timberlake (who is on my top 5 list of celebrities I can sleep with while I'm in a relationship and it won't count against me).  I actually think JBiebs is a good singer.  He's got a good voice and good range.  I'm not ashamed to admit that I like some of his songs.

Then I saw his music video for Boyfriend.  And I feel creeped out.  I can't watch it.  It's really weird to see him trying to be older and sexy.  In my mind, he will always be 15.  I just can't explain it.  It's really awkward to watch.  It's like that episode of that Diaries of a Virgin where the first kiss the couple had was up at the alter.  And she's sucking his face and kissing him awkwardly.  You don't want to watch it but you can't turn away... actually, it's not like that at all.  It's really awkward and I don't want to watch it.   If you haven't seen it, here it is:

See what I mean?  Weird. 

Short-n-Sweet

Report cards turned in?  check.
Fall writing samples graded?  check.
Spring writing samples graded?  check.
DRA scores inputed?  check.
DRA scores printed out?  check.
Words Their Way scores found?  check.
Father's Day gift supplies bought?  check.
Hot glue gun prepared?  check.
Movies lined up for the last few days?  check.
Reading buddies everyday?  check.
Recycling of student work/homework?  check.
Cleaning out of the candy "incentive" closet?  check.
Walls clear of posters?  slowly but surely.

I'm ready for this group to move on.  I'm ready to clear out everything else in my room. I'm ready for school to be over for this year.  I'm ready. 

The Nose Knows

I don't know about you but smell tends to trigger the most memories for me.  I smell a certain cologne and think of the men of my past.  I smell apple pie and think of my best friend from elementary school whose mother used to bake.  I smell popcorn and think of Screen on the Green.  I smell Rum and think of Cancun.  I could go on for days... you get the drift.  Yesterday, I went to Barnes & Noble to stock up on some summer reads (And if you're wondering why I don't have a Kindle, then you don't know me.  I love books.  I love flipping page.  I especially love the way book pages smell... the smell of books reminds me of my childhood library... so, that's why I don't want a Kindle).

As I was wondering around the store, I happened to get stuck walking behind a man who smelled like Irish Springs soap.  And immediately I was taken back to my grandmother's (my dad's mom) house in Pennsylvania.  And then I remembered Shoo-fly Pie, home grown zucchinni, Flyer's hockey, sharing a one bathroom townhouse with lots of people, the 3 Stooges and peppermint.  All because of one small smell.  See, my grandmother used Irish Spring soap and whenever my family and I would go visit her we would all use the soap.  And we would all smell like a crisp Irish spring. And it was delightful. 

My grandmother passed away while I was in high school and it's been a while since I've actually stopped to think about her.  So, thank you to the nice smelling gentleman in B&N for bringing back such wonderful memories.  Rest In Peace, Grandma!  I'm thinking about you.

SBux Saga continued...

I walked into SBux this morning and Old Man was sitting in his new "usual" spot watching his computer.... I imagine him to be downloading 80s porn of some sort.  He claims he's doing work but his comptuer is so old I'm not sure what company would still be using it. 

When Haider, my sexy flirty barista, was calling the order when he was done he yelled "iced venti coffe with two shots of tequila".... and I wanted to throw up in my mouth.  Not because it sounded disgusting (which it does) but because I was hungover....  see, what had happened was that I had too much to drink last night.  A dinner with B to discuss bachelorette party agenda turned into a night of trivia night and beers with a Christian Bale look-a-like...  it was awesome.  It's those nights that you least expect to turn into a wild night that you do have a wild night (for a school night at least).

As I was putting some milk and one Splenda (so you guys know how I like my coffee for future reference) into my drink I thought of you guys.  See, I want you guys to see what Old Man looks like.  So you can feel my pain.  But then I got to thinking... there is no covert way of taking a picture on your iPhone.  It's way too obvious that one is trying to take a picture (as we learned the hard way last night).  Because we were in the presence of a Christian Bale look-a-like, my sister, K, decided to take a picture.  And as she trying to be stealthful about it, a loud click went off... and that's when the blindly flash went off... right in his face.  And she was mortified.  But it was hilarious.  So, yeah... there was no good way of getting a picture of Old Man.  Sorry friends.  You'll just have to use your imagination. 

I Saw the Sign... and it Opened Up My Eyes

The other day I wrote about some experiences I had at JMU.  Last night as I was reading my book in bed I noticed a poster on a corkboard that I had given my sister when she was at Tech (don't ask me why I'm sleeping in my sister's room - I'll throw some middle child attitude at you).  And it was a compliation poster of a very special gentleman named Benjamin Franklin Schumin (I kid you not, that's his real name).  My sister had the pleasure of running into this JMU legend when she visited me the ONE time she did.  He made quite a lasting impression on her, hence why I made the poster of him.

I got back to thinking about Ben Schumin.  And how we would roll down the sidewalks on his Razor scooter (yes, he was in college and had a razor scooter).  And he would just say hello to anyone and everyone he met.  And I remember seeing him in the lines to get food or the admissions offices and how he would chat up the people around him.  While he looked like someone you wouldn't want to be friends with you couldn't help being drawn to him.  He had a "I don't care what people think of me" attitude along with a "I'm friendly" attitude.  He was a charmer.  And smart.  And nerdy funny.  It worked for him. 

I look back to that time.  I judged him.  I used to laugh at him.  And snicker.  Why?  Probably because I was a B.  I cared too much about looks.  I cared too much about what people thought of me.  I look back and kinda dislike myself for that.  And here I am today.  I want to be more like B.F. Schumin.  I want to care less about what others think of me - if I'm happy with myself then others will be, too... right?  I would like to be confident enough in myself to make conversation with people around me.  I've been told I put off a stand-offish vibe when I am meeting new people... how does one get over that?  I tell you how:  by adopting a Benjamin Franklin Schumin attitude.  Boom!

This morning I was on FB and noticed that my friend, A, commented on a picture... and wouldn't you know it, it was B.F. Schumin!  And I chuckled... not because of his goofy grin.  But because I had just read the poster about him... and was adopting his philosophy... and because it validated my feelings about the world was showing me signs.  B.F. Schumin now works in DC and is doing great things for himself.  He seems like a good person to know.  My biggest dilemna is whether or not I should friend him.  Would that be too weird?

Now.. tonight, I think I'll do some reading on Johnny Depp and try to adopt his attitude.  Maybe the world will send him to me, too?

The Right Path?

Yesterday I went to my friend S birthday cookout and got to meet her new baby.  My other friend K was there with her new baby.  I was in newborn heaven.  I smelled their heads, kissed all over them and breathed in their innocence.  During the course of the night, the topic of psychics and mediums came up.  My friend K was telling us about this time when she was 16 and her mom brought her to a lady who described what her life was going to be like.  And she said it was extrememly accurate.  Of course, she didn't tell us much more aobut what the lady had said but that her life was on the "right path." 

That night, as I drove home, I got to thinking about my life and the decisions I've made up to this point.  Am I on the "right path"?  Have my decisions throughout my life veered me off my path?  I know that, while I might not be on it currently, that I will eventually get to where I am supposed to be.  And, having had a few mango margaritas, I so proundly decided that it's the twists and turns in life that make the journey.... well, a journey.  Did some of my bad decisions made my path harder?  Would better decisions have made the journey more adventurous? 

When I got home, I was digging through my old stuff and remembering some of the decisions I made that could have altered where I was in my journey.  What would of happened if I didn't cry the entire time through the baby cereal commercial?  Would I be a star today making millions of dollars?  Perhaps that would have led me to becoming a child star who would eventually become a recovering drug addict.  Who knows?  What would my life be like right now if I would have moved to California with Omar (not his real name and only my close friends know why we'll call him that).  Would he have paid my way through USC grad school like he promised and would I be hobknobbing with the celebrities?  What if I had chosen to go to OSU instead of JMU?  What if I had continued my dancing and been really good and been a backup dancer for Beyonce or Lady Gaga?  What if, right?

All these questions.... the decisions I've made have lead me to where I am now.  And I'm happy with that.  As I continued to dig through my stuff I came across my JMU photo scrapbook and took a journey back to 1999-2003.  And I came to a page that stopped me dead in my tracks.  Let's rewind a little bit.  Sophmore year of JMU, C and I decided to be roommates on campus.  We wanted to live on the quad... so we could go lay out between classes and get a tan... and to watch the nice tan skateboarders ride by.  It was the perfect place to be during Springtime at JMU.  And we got it!  The dorm was called Spotswood.  Little did we know that it was a substance free dorm.  Meaning no alcohol or cigarette smoke.  Whoomp Whoomp.  Needless to say the students in the dorm (minus C and I) were on the nerdy side.

There was one guy named, D, who was obsessed with us... and he was a photographer for the school's newspaper.  So every week, he would come and interview us for the "opinions" section of the newspaper and then take our picture for it.  It got old after a while... especially since none of our opinions or photos ever appeared in the newspaper.  One time I decided that I was going to give a horrible answer in hopes that he would never ask me again.  And wouldn't you know it, that's the interview he used for the next week's Opinion section.  oh.dear.lord!

Questions:  What will you be doing this very second 10 years from now.
My response (complete with my picture next to it):  Waiting at the gates for my baby daddy to be released from prison. 

Yoinks!!  WTF?  What was I thinking?  Is that something that changed the way of my "right path"?  Was someone going to ask me out and then saw this in the paper and then thought "no way!"?  I mean... come on now.  That could have ruined my chances of kissing someone on the Kissing Rock at JMU.  What if this was the thing that made me not get a job?  But, alas, I've realized that there was a reason I chose to do that.  And I'm okay with that.  Everything happens for a reason.  The choices I make are for a reason.  And it's lead me to where I am now. 

But, see me in May 2013... Perhaps I will have a baby daddy and will be waiting at the gates for him to be released from prison.  Anyone interested?

Good Times

I finally had a weekend where I had absolutely nothing to do...  No wedding stuff...  No baby showers...  No travelling.  It's been a while since I've had such a weekend and I have to tell you it was amazing.  Now, don't get me wrong.  I love doing all of those things for the people I care about.  But nothing is more relaxing and necessary than a weekend dedicated to yourself. 

Friday night was supposed to be a night full of frozen RB&Vs, baseball hats, tight pants and Harper.  But thanks to tornado warnings, it was rained out and my first baseball game of the season was cancelled.  Things happen for a reason.  The rain Gods must have known that I was in desperate need of girls' night because I had the priviledge of having dinner with two of the most genuine people ever, R and V.  They say that you are the people you keep... well if this is the case, then I am smart, funny, caring, sensitive and loyal.  Because that's what R and V are.  And I can't begin to explain how much of a great time I had with them drinking, eating, cooking and laughing.  Our conversations covered a wide range of topics with various levels of seriouness.  Some conversations were mainly humourous in nature with a lot of laughter and tears from around the table.  Other converstation took more serious tone as we discussed relationships, unsettlement, future goals and worldly concerns.  We sometimes agreed, sometimes disagreed and sometimes had to poop our pants.  We left that night more solid in our friendships.  Even though the three of us have developed different levels of friendship with each other, I would be confident in saying that we would be there for one another, in a heartbeat, if needed.  I sometimes forget how important good girlfriends, good wine and good conversation are to a person's well being. I am grateful to be friends with such good quality people. 

The next day I was invited to go lounge at the pool with one of my other dear friend, M.  While she chatted with the other 2 girls who were with us, I layed out listening to my favorite songs on my iPhone and drinking my favorite drink - white wine.  Sometimes I would take my buds out and join in on the conversation the girls were having.  Other times I would take my buds out to make witty comments to the rando boys sitting next to us.  But mostly, I soaked up the sun and reflected.  I have a good life.  I have good friends.  I have a good family.  I am lucky.  That night I had a movie marathon with M.  We laughed, we cried, we got angry at things.  It was good to let out so many different emotions in a short amount of time.  It's human nature.  Without them, we'd all walk around like the Stepford Wives. 

Today, my mom and I went out on a shopping spree.  I love shopping with my mom.  I'll buy her things sometimes and she'll buy me things sometimes.  We take turns.  We like to share and give to each other.  While I bought her some make-up brushes, she bought me an Auntie Anne's pretzel (and no shopping spree is complete without an AA pretzel and lemonade).  Sometimes she'll find an incredible purse for herself, buy it and then decide that she's much too little for such a large bag.  Today, I benefitted from being an amazonian Asian and got an amazingly beautiful Italian purse.  It feels like butta.  The older I get the more I realize how much I am my mother's daughter.  I get my giving nature from her.  It's one of my favorite things I inherited from her (2nd would be our love for shoes).  I get my extra large heart from her.  I get my sensitivity and curiousity from her.  I get my smarts and efficiency and my non-aging skin from her.  I can only hope to amount to be an amazing woman like her. 

It was a great weekend... one that probably won't happen again for a while but I'm still thankful for it.  I hope your weekends were just as amazing.  You and I both deserve it! 

Kids are Hilarious

The later it gets into the school year (only 11 days left of school), the more entertaining I find my students.  And they say and do the funniest stuff sometimes.  Here are a few snippets of recent.

dropping my kid off at specials
Mr. N:  You going to the HH? 
Me:  Yes
Mr. N:  Is your boy coming?
::nosy students::
B:  Ms. K, you have a son?
Me:  No
R:  A husband?
Me:  No
J:  Oh, a wife!
Me:  ::smh::  Guess I need to review personal pronouns and stuff.


during guided reading
Me:  Alright friends, take me on a picture walk
::hysterical laughter from two male students::
Me:  What's so funny boys?
::looking at each other and laugh louder::
Me:  K, what's so funny? 
K:  D wants to take you on a real walk, Ms. K
D (who looks so fly with his double pierced ears):  COME ON MAN.  That's a secret!!


words they can't pronounce:
calerpitter = caterpillar
hanitizer =  hand sanitizer
bikini = zucchini
liberry = library
value = volume
jes = yes (althought this is a language thing)
booboopbob =  bibimbap
incest = insect
hog dog = hot dog


My mini-me seems to be the apple of ALL the little boys' eyes.  Anytime one of them has the microphone to share, they stare directly at her and only her.  They look for a reaction or approval from her.  And each one of them will try and upstage the other one.  Their stories are totally fake but she buys into them and, from what I can tell, humors them by laughing.  She loves that they pay her attention.  Yesterday, we watched a movie about Susan B. Anthony.  And during the movie, I noticed that she and another girl in my class were HOLDING HANDS!!  They were holding hands like I used to do when I went to a movie with my ex.  Is mini-me into girls?  Lesbihonest, I'm beginning to think that's the way to go. 

The other day I wore heels and by the end of the school day, in addition to walking NYC adventure, my feet were killing me... so I changed into my owl slippers.  And then my 2nd mini-me came to school the next day wearing these (she claims her mom "forced" her to wear them - likely story, little one.  You just wanna be like me):

Where can I get a pair that fit me?  Love, love!

My boys are outta control... dirty, rough and tumble, aggressive.  So it was mindblowing to me to see them dancing and acting like little girls...  may I present to you, my boys.  They are pretending to twirl their hair while singing "Be a lady... wa-uh-oh, be a lady..... that's what I am!"

My hamstrings were killing me after doing kickboxing the other day.  So I was walking a little funny. 

J:  Ms. K, why are you walking like that?  Do you need to use the bathroom?