Monday, January 25, 2010
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Life Lesson #459
Don't make a list. Don't have a plan. You don't know what you need anyway; it'll just screw you up and you'll miss out.
Monday, January 18, 2010
Monday, December 28, 2009
Scammed
Omg. Today, I was reading this online article about this stay at home mom who made like 65K at home working through her computer advertising Google things. Sounds harmless, right? And I love making ads. So I signed up for it and they ask you for all this information to start an account, and there is a $1 activation fee. So I paid that. And then I read the instruction manual which is harder than rock and it was like, "Oh, by the way. You have 2 days to cancel or its $80 a month." So, OK. I read it, find out unless some computer nerd wants to get me started, I'll never figure it out - so I call the number that it says to call if you want to cancel. Some dude gets on, doesn't ask me what I want, just starts asking for information. I kept saying "so this is to cancel right?" "yep, yep, yep...i need this... i need this..." So then I re-give him all my crap. My username, password, credit card, address, phone number, etc. everything. "I can't find your account but what I can do for you is give the IT guys this information so they can find it and cancel it." "You have two days to do this. I have to cancel in two days." "Well I'll send them the form and they'll get back to you as soon as possible." Great. Now I'll have to go into the bank and cancel my credit card, too.
Saturday, December 26, 2009
Friday, December 25, 2009
Saturday, December 19, 2009
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Waiting, waiting, waiting, waiting, waiting, waiting, most of life is spent waiting, waiting, waiting, waiting,
My life is kid-lacking and unfulfilled. I need it to be next fall - pronto. This full time job of wasting time is not doing me well.
Pray I get the long-term substitute position to carry me to next fall at Glass again!
Pray I get the long-term substitute position to carry me to next fall at Glass again!
Sunday, December 6, 2009
Saturday, December 5, 2009
Pulled Over
I'm losing track - how many of these entries have I blogged? It must be my sixth one now. I received my first ticket last night! 1 in 6 ratio...not too shabby!
I don't even flinch anymore. Oop. Cop lights. Been there, done this. Plus, I deserved this one...so it's not like I can cry or fight it with good reason.
Tony, Travis, and Steven were with me. We just turned off 501 onto Lynchburg Expressway headed back to Brandon and Trav's. I see Brandon and Bethany up ahead and concoct this brilliant plan to catch up with and then cut off their hot, red car. Right as I was gaining in behind them, lights flashed behind me. No point in questioning, Is it me? Am I the one he's after? Because we all knew.
I have been driving 30 over on that darn highway since I first got here last July! What state has highways at 55 mph!?! That's just sick.
He pulled me over. "Obviously you know why I pulled you over tonight." I nod. "You were flyin'." My face forms a guilty grin. "Did you have anything to drink this evening?" "Oh no, we were just coming home from the dollar theater." "Are you in a rush to get somewhere?" I came up with two valid reasons, from my perspective; not so valid in his mind:
# 1. I was trying to catch up to my friend.
# 2. I come from the third largest city in Minnesota. I've learned to be aggressive in my driving. (a.k.a. we get to go at least 65 mph on our highways!!!)
-- -- Really wished I was pregnant and going into labor at this time...that gets you out of everything!!! -- --
The ultimate question: Do you have your driver's license with you?
The every-time answer: Noooo, I dooooon't..... *insert frown and fake tearful eyes*
He asks for my name, social security number, address, la-ti-da, all the normal 'shtuff' - heads to his car.
4, 5, 8 minutes later...he comes back. "I'm not coming up with anything. I've run it a few times. You have no license on file."
I was speechless. That's a new one. "Uh, I don't know...that doesn't make any sense...I've never had a problem with it before...??"
He stated he was not able to let me 'drive out of here, tonight' because it did not exist on file. Screw the dang files.
He's instantly suspicious and accusitory: "Why don't you have your license with you today??"
I explain my situation in fast Minnesotan dialect (even though I wouldn't have grabbed it anyway...never needed it before!): "Well, we were late to our movie, and I forgot to grab my purse, and it was only a dollar, so my friend was going to cover me the dollar and I pay him back so I didn't make us even more late, so I didn't go back for it.... Do you want me to have someone bring it to me?"
"How far away are you - how long would it take to get someone over here?"
"I just live up the road, _____ Apartments, I could call my roommate."
Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring. All 4 of us in the car are dialing, re dialing, continuously dialing Emma's number. She is not picking up.
Great. Now it looks like I lied about my license AND my roommate!
He comes back when a car slows behind us, "Is that your roommate?"
"No! I can't get ahold of her! I don't know why she isn't picking up!" (I know she's at home...sleeping!)
He questions me about my history, my former state and move to Lynchburg, have I let my license expire?
I explain I renewed it on my 21st birthday a while back and have not had to renew it since, it hasn't expired from that quite yet. He says that even if it had expired, it should be coming up in the system.
It was so wild being told my license didn't exist. It was like being told - "You were never born." - "You have no identity." - What a freaky feeling.
I was left speechless, with no explanation.
Most embarrasing call of my life: "Mom? Is dad there? I need him. ... Hey, dad? I'm here with a cop, and I don't have my license, do you have that number somewhere?"
Luckily, after some time dad finds it. We get the number. Cop goes to his car and back again. "You're fine." (he does not understand the relief!) I'm a real human! I have a birth certificate! I am real! I am registered! Pheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeew! "The only thing I can think of why that was happening is that Minnesota has some lock on their system with finding that information."
Dang states and their laws.
Of course, all that hassle...I get a ticket. 82 in a 55. Go figure. I haven't decided if I'll slow down from now on or not. I suppose I better since this is an actual ticket this time and not a slap on the wrist like the past five times of cops falling for my seduction.
It sucks getting pulled over with boys in your car - that's about all I learned from yesterday.
I don't even flinch anymore. Oop. Cop lights. Been there, done this. Plus, I deserved this one...so it's not like I can cry or fight it with good reason.
Tony, Travis, and Steven were with me. We just turned off 501 onto Lynchburg Expressway headed back to Brandon and Trav's. I see Brandon and Bethany up ahead and concoct this brilliant plan to catch up with and then cut off their hot, red car. Right as I was gaining in behind them, lights flashed behind me. No point in questioning, Is it me? Am I the one he's after? Because we all knew.
I have been driving 30 over on that darn highway since I first got here last July! What state has highways at 55 mph!?! That's just sick.
He pulled me over. "Obviously you know why I pulled you over tonight." I nod. "You were flyin'." My face forms a guilty grin. "Did you have anything to drink this evening?" "Oh no, we were just coming home from the dollar theater." "Are you in a rush to get somewhere?" I came up with two valid reasons, from my perspective; not so valid in his mind:
# 1. I was trying to catch up to my friend.
# 2. I come from the third largest city in Minnesota. I've learned to be aggressive in my driving. (a.k.a. we get to go at least 65 mph on our highways!!!)
-- -- Really wished I was pregnant and going into labor at this time...that gets you out of everything!!! -- --
The ultimate question: Do you have your driver's license with you?
The every-time answer: Noooo, I dooooon't..... *insert frown and fake tearful eyes*
He asks for my name, social security number, address, la-ti-da, all the normal 'shtuff' - heads to his car.
4, 5, 8 minutes later...he comes back. "I'm not coming up with anything. I've run it a few times. You have no license on file."
I was speechless. That's a new one. "Uh, I don't know...that doesn't make any sense...I've never had a problem with it before...??"
He stated he was not able to let me 'drive out of here, tonight' because it did not exist on file. Screw the dang files.
He's instantly suspicious and accusitory: "Why don't you have your license with you today??"
I explain my situation in fast Minnesotan dialect (even though I wouldn't have grabbed it anyway...never needed it before!): "Well, we were late to our movie, and I forgot to grab my purse, and it was only a dollar, so my friend was going to cover me the dollar and I pay him back so I didn't make us even more late, so I didn't go back for it.... Do you want me to have someone bring it to me?"
"How far away are you - how long would it take to get someone over here?"
"I just live up the road, _____ Apartments, I could call my roommate."
Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring. All 4 of us in the car are dialing, re dialing, continuously dialing Emma's number. She is not picking up.
Great. Now it looks like I lied about my license AND my roommate!
He comes back when a car slows behind us, "Is that your roommate?"
"No! I can't get ahold of her! I don't know why she isn't picking up!" (I know she's at home...sleeping!)
He questions me about my history, my former state and move to Lynchburg, have I let my license expire?
I explain I renewed it on my 21st birthday a while back and have not had to renew it since, it hasn't expired from that quite yet. He says that even if it had expired, it should be coming up in the system.
It was so wild being told my license didn't exist. It was like being told - "You were never born." - "You have no identity." - What a freaky feeling.
I was left speechless, with no explanation.
Most embarrasing call of my life: "Mom? Is dad there? I need him. ... Hey, dad? I'm here with a cop, and I don't have my license, do you have that number somewhere?"
Luckily, after some time dad finds it. We get the number. Cop goes to his car and back again. "You're fine." (he does not understand the relief!) I'm a real human! I have a birth certificate! I am real! I am registered! Pheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeew! "The only thing I can think of why that was happening is that Minnesota has some lock on their system with finding that information."
Dang states and their laws.
Of course, all that hassle...I get a ticket. 82 in a 55. Go figure. I haven't decided if I'll slow down from now on or not. I suppose I better since this is an actual ticket this time and not a slap on the wrist like the past five times of cops falling for my seduction.
It sucks getting pulled over with boys in your car - that's about all I learned from yesterday.
Thursday, December 3, 2009
Final Decision: I'm Staying.
I'm learning to be a bitch with adults now, too. It feels wonderful.
Today after school I went with the hip hop team down to the auditorium so that they could practice their routine for the talent show this evening. We were trying to figure out where the lights were to turn them on so that we could practice when some janitor dude came in. I was still in the back end of the auditorium looking for the swith; most of my students had gone forward towards the stage to find the lights up there. I was hopeful of help and asked nicely, "Hey there! Do you know how to turn on the lights in here?" "Um, yea," he said in a debasing tone that said instead, "Obviously, freak." He continued, "But nobody signed up to be in here today, and they need to have a teacher with them." By this time, the team had reached the stage and stage lights were starting to be found and turned on. I ignored the tone, as well as being assumed a student, and informed him politely, "Oh, I am the teacher." "Then you need to be up there with them," he snippily demanded.
The only thing I hate worse than being dealt with in a tone is when people presume the worst out of my students. "Excuuuse you," with no remorse I retorted, "But they are just fine. Now, are you OK with the lights on, or are you going to make us practice in the dark?"
"Let me go ask the lady in charge of the auditorium."
"Thank-you."
...and he never came back.
There were so many responses I wanted to say. He had attacked me and questioned my leadership. I would have been up there with them if I hadn't been wasting my time on you; The only reason I am not up there with them is because I am standing here wasting my breath on you. But the truth is, the thing that mattered most of all was not that he had charged me, but that he accused my students of being poor, bad ghetto kids before they had even the time to do something wrong if they were bad kids. I have great kids. Better than you, even. You leave them alone.
This is why I choose to stay with these kids: to help them prove wrong a world that has given them no chance.
What a rotten man.
Today after school I went with the hip hop team down to the auditorium so that they could practice their routine for the talent show this evening. We were trying to figure out where the lights were to turn them on so that we could practice when some janitor dude came in. I was still in the back end of the auditorium looking for the swith; most of my students had gone forward towards the stage to find the lights up there. I was hopeful of help and asked nicely, "Hey there! Do you know how to turn on the lights in here?" "Um, yea," he said in a debasing tone that said instead, "Obviously, freak." He continued, "But nobody signed up to be in here today, and they need to have a teacher with them." By this time, the team had reached the stage and stage lights were starting to be found and turned on. I ignored the tone, as well as being assumed a student, and informed him politely, "Oh, I am the teacher." "Then you need to be up there with them," he snippily demanded.
The only thing I hate worse than being dealt with in a tone is when people presume the worst out of my students. "Excuuuse you," with no remorse I retorted, "But they are just fine. Now, are you OK with the lights on, or are you going to make us practice in the dark?"
"Let me go ask the lady in charge of the auditorium."
"Thank-you."
...and he never came back.
There were so many responses I wanted to say. He had attacked me and questioned my leadership. I would have been up there with them if I hadn't been wasting my time on you; The only reason I am not up there with them is because I am standing here wasting my breath on you. But the truth is, the thing that mattered most of all was not that he had charged me, but that he accused my students of being poor, bad ghetto kids before they had even the time to do something wrong if they were bad kids. I have great kids. Better than you, even. You leave them alone.
This is why I choose to stay with these kids: to help them prove wrong a world that has given them no chance.
What a rotten man.
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
Saturday, November 7, 2009
"Remember, remember, the 5th of November" - V
And you thought I was done there .... HA! Haha! It wasn't even my birthday yet! :)
Meet Thursday morning. November 5th:
5:30-freaking-am. Sitting down with a bowl of every-morning-routinely-grain-cereal and a flinstone vitamin. Emma creeps down the hallway like her usual sneaky silent self. "Goodmorning! Happy birthday!" All the thoughts going through my head in one split second: "O.M.G. What are you doing up?? What day is it?? It's my birthday?? Why are you awake? Why are you so peppy and happy? What is going on? Emma? Is that you? Huuuuuhhhh?????" I was too caught off guard to thank my wonderful roomy enough for getting my day off to a special start. She's too good to me :)
Lynchburg city schools are different from anything I have seen in Minnesota districts. They have periods 1 - 7, but 1st period is optional. So the really devoted and high achieving students take on early morning, 7am, bright and ridiculous, 1st period classes. I was also voted a teacher to wake up with the crazies. So, I pull in to school at about...6:55am. School begins at 7am. By the time I round the corner and come to my door, twenty-seven early morning faces are there to greet me and wait for me to key the door open and let them in.
These are not your regular students. I pull in with a morning voice, unwoken eyes, and a thrown together hairdo. These students are yelling, joking, singing, dancing, wrestling, and laughing. I have never seen such awakeners in my life.
One day a student told me, "I'm really tired today," and proceeded to tackel another's backpack and turtle it (turn it inside out). Tired. Yea. Looks like it.
I love my first period students. It's not dead. It's not silent. We are very alive every morning. And I'd choose no better teens to start my day out with each weekday.
Also, they have this idea that I have ninja appearing skills because it is a long hallway that they never see me walking down and suddenly BAM I'm there at the door with my keys appearing in thin air. They think I have the ability to teleport and defeat the logic of physics. Really, I'm just short; this doesn't occur to them. Everyday: "Ms. BEICH! How do you DO that!? Where did you COME from! Seriously. No, for real. We've been staring at the hallway. We never looked away. That's CRAZY." Teachers are magical; what more is there to prove?
This particular day was a special day. It was a different day. I had forgotten to heed Vendetta's warning. :)
Instead of letting me morph into myself mid-hallway, they met me right in the corridors. I round the corner; "MS. BEICH!!!! (one mili-second pause) HAAAAAAPPY BIIIIRTHDAAAAY TO YOOOOOOU!!!!!!! HAAAAAAPPY BIIIIIRTHHH...." My boys chase me down the WHOLE length of the hallway, screaming my birthday song at the top of their lungs. I was bright red and shaking my head, but I have never felt so important in my life. I'd choose to hear my birthday song from no other. My heart melted.
Upon entering the classroom, they set right to work on decorating the board with a large birthday cake and sign and all in the 5-minutes before the bell rang when I held to "I appreciate you all, but in your seats or tardy!" They did a fantastic job.
I couldn't love my school, my students, my life more.
All throughout the day students "Happy Birthday!"-ed when walking in the door frame to our artsy and bright classroom. Half of the periods were organized enough to all sing the song in unison during journal time. I was sure to return a "Thank-you, name!" to every special student who made my day so incredible.
What a life I have.
Meet Thursday morning. November 5th:
5:30-freaking-am. Sitting down with a bowl of every-morning-routinely-grain-cereal and a flinstone vitamin. Emma creeps down the hallway like her usual sneaky silent self. "Goodmorning! Happy birthday!" All the thoughts going through my head in one split second: "O.M.G. What are you doing up?? What day is it?? It's my birthday?? Why are you awake? Why are you so peppy and happy? What is going on? Emma? Is that you? Huuuuuhhhh?????" I was too caught off guard to thank my wonderful roomy enough for getting my day off to a special start. She's too good to me :)
Lynchburg city schools are different from anything I have seen in Minnesota districts. They have periods 1 - 7, but 1st period is optional. So the really devoted and high achieving students take on early morning, 7am, bright and ridiculous, 1st period classes. I was also voted a teacher to wake up with the crazies. So, I pull in to school at about...6:55am. School begins at 7am. By the time I round the corner and come to my door, twenty-seven early morning faces are there to greet me and wait for me to key the door open and let them in.
These are not your regular students. I pull in with a morning voice, unwoken eyes, and a thrown together hairdo. These students are yelling, joking, singing, dancing, wrestling, and laughing. I have never seen such awakeners in my life.
One day a student told me, "I'm really tired today," and proceeded to tackel another's backpack and turtle it (turn it inside out). Tired. Yea. Looks like it.
I love my first period students. It's not dead. It's not silent. We are very alive every morning. And I'd choose no better teens to start my day out with each weekday.
Also, they have this idea that I have ninja appearing skills because it is a long hallway that they never see me walking down and suddenly BAM I'm there at the door with my keys appearing in thin air. They think I have the ability to teleport and defeat the logic of physics. Really, I'm just short; this doesn't occur to them. Everyday: "Ms. BEICH! How do you DO that!? Where did you COME from! Seriously. No, for real. We've been staring at the hallway. We never looked away. That's CRAZY." Teachers are magical; what more is there to prove?
This particular day was a special day. It was a different day. I had forgotten to heed Vendetta's warning. :)
Instead of letting me morph into myself mid-hallway, they met me right in the corridors. I round the corner; "MS. BEICH!!!! (one mili-second pause) HAAAAAAPPY BIIIIRTHDAAAAY TO YOOOOOOU!!!!!!! HAAAAAAPPY BIIIIIRTHHH...." My boys chase me down the WHOLE length of the hallway, screaming my birthday song at the top of their lungs. I was bright red and shaking my head, but I have never felt so important in my life. I'd choose to hear my birthday song from no other. My heart melted.
Upon entering the classroom, they set right to work on decorating the board with a large birthday cake and sign and all in the 5-minutes before the bell rang when I held to "I appreciate you all, but in your seats or tardy!" They did a fantastic job.
I couldn't love my school, my students, my life more.
All throughout the day students "Happy Birthday!"-ed when walking in the door frame to our artsy and bright classroom. Half of the periods were organized enough to all sing the song in unison during journal time. I was sure to return a "Thank-you, name!" to every special student who made my day so incredible.
What a life I have.
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Birthday Extravaganzas
I received everything I could ever want for my birthday this year (except for receiving no call from my family...).
I have been so caught up in lesson plans, grading, organizing, parent emailing, instructing, and reflecting that I had not felt birthday-ish at all. We celebrated graduation/birthday before I left for Virginia this July at our last family get together, so I knew to expect nothing for my birthday. Therefore, ignoring it and forgetting about it was an appropriate reaction.
Unlike my family and me, however, others did not forget.
I was late to youth group and in a "go-go-go!" mood all Wednesday (4th), but when I got there and following our initial song and dance time, they said, "Alright, form a circle! Kate! Step on in!" Evidenced by my "B.A." bruised up album on facebook, they call me to be the leader to do all the crazy volunteer stuff anyway, so I said, "What am I doing!?" all excited to jump into the game or challenge or whatever they threw into my face. I trust them. It's usually something sticky ... licking lifesavers and seeing how many you can stick to your face in a minute ... or something scary ... standing on a table and jumping into the arms of the students and leaders to catch me ... or something adventurous ... climbing up waterfalls and sliding back down ... or something downright goofy ... pretending to pick my nose and then flicking it off onto the junior highers ... so nothing surprises me anymore (so I thought).
But they did catch me off my guard. It was my birthday ... who knew!?!
The goal was to scream-sing "Happy Birthday" as nasty and loud and annoying as they all could, while getting as "all up in my face" as possible and doing a mosh pit around me, pushing and shoving me into everyone. It was PERFECT. A mosh pit, my students, and loud-crazy voices. What more could I ask for?
I left content, nothing could beat that for a birthday present. Oh, the love! And my birthday wasn't even until the NEXT day - and they remembered! I didn't even say a THING! Wow. I'm blessed.
I have been so caught up in lesson plans, grading, organizing, parent emailing, instructing, and reflecting that I had not felt birthday-ish at all. We celebrated graduation/birthday before I left for Virginia this July at our last family get together, so I knew to expect nothing for my birthday. Therefore, ignoring it and forgetting about it was an appropriate reaction.
Unlike my family and me, however, others did not forget.
I was late to youth group and in a "go-go-go!" mood all Wednesday (4th), but when I got there and following our initial song and dance time, they said, "Alright, form a circle! Kate! Step on in!" Evidenced by my "B.A." bruised up album on facebook, they call me to be the leader to do all the crazy volunteer stuff anyway, so I said, "What am I doing!?" all excited to jump into the game or challenge or whatever they threw into my face. I trust them. It's usually something sticky ... licking lifesavers and seeing how many you can stick to your face in a minute ... or something scary ... standing on a table and jumping into the arms of the students and leaders to catch me ... or something adventurous ... climbing up waterfalls and sliding back down ... or something downright goofy ... pretending to pick my nose and then flicking it off onto the junior highers ... so nothing surprises me anymore (so I thought).
But they did catch me off my guard. It was my birthday ... who knew!?!
The goal was to scream-sing "Happy Birthday" as nasty and loud and annoying as they all could, while getting as "all up in my face" as possible and doing a mosh pit around me, pushing and shoving me into everyone. It was PERFECT. A mosh pit, my students, and loud-crazy voices. What more could I ask for?
I left content, nothing could beat that for a birthday present. Oh, the love! And my birthday wasn't even until the NEXT day - and they remembered! I didn't even say a THING! Wow. I'm blessed.
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