I Dislike America

I am a proud American, but I dislike America. 

Maybe it's not that I dislike America, but more that I don't like the people in the country. 

Case in point- Cinco de Mayo. Today is a Mexican holiday. We as Americans have adopted it as our own (see: St.Patrick's Day) and turned it into a reason to party all night in the name of Mexican independence. Which isn't even the reason for the holiday, by the way. (Read Chantell's post for more info on this.) So, what was an original Mexican holiday is now an excuse for college students and other various "responsible adults" whose Spanish vocabulary consists of "taco", "margarita", and "cerveza" to go out and party, drinking margaritas and celebrating in the name of a culture which they know nothing about.

I dislike people my age. Not a day goes by that I don't log onto Facebook and see the most hideous grammar, spelling, and punctuation on the planet. How hard is it, people, to write out the word "you" and not embellish every other word with a smiley face or an "lol"?

I mean, seriously. Today, within ten minutes, the following posts popped up:

 cinco de maayyooooo out with the my fraaaanssss

OMG BORED!!!!! WOW I STILL BE LIKEIN HIM:) :D

Gummy bears and sour worms tomorrow!!! bring yo moeny fool! ^^

I wanted to cry and then find these people and beat them down. Why do our English teachers slave over lesson plans and assign us essays to teach us proper grammar and punctuation and form, only to have such imbeciles belittle and deface the English language? It's right up there with Mrs. Lemon's issue with "peaceeee". We do this crap and then wonder why countries think that Americans are a bunch of fat, lazy, ignorant idiots? Come on, people. Have some sense. 

Other posts with angry, I-Hate-People themes include:

March 5, 2007

 

April 17, 2009

Others are probably out there, but I can't find them.

In closing, I would like to leave you with a poem by the great Taylor Mali.

Totally, Like, Whatever, You Know?

In case you hadn't noticed, 
it has somehow become uncool 
to sound like you know what you're talking about? 
Or believe strongly in what you're saying? 
Invisible question marks and parenthetical (you know?)'s 
have been attaching themselves to the ends of our sentences? 
Even when those sentences aren't, like, questions? You know?

Declarative sentences - so-called 
because they used to, like, DECLARE things to be true 
as opposed to other things which were, like, not -
have been infected by a totally hip 
and tragically cool interrogative tone? You know? 
Like, don't think I'm uncool just because I've noticed this; 
this is just like the word on the street, you know? 
It's like what I've heard? 
I have nothing personally invested in my own opinions, okay? 
I'm just inviting you to join me in my uncertainty?

What has happened to our conviction? 
Where are the limbs out on which we once walked? 
Have they been, like, chopped down 
with the rest of the rain forest? 
Or do we have, like, nothing to say? 
Has society become so, like, totally . . . 
I mean absolutely . . . You know? 
That we've just gotten to the point where it's just, like . . . 
whatever!

And so actually our disarticulation . . . ness 
is just a clever sort of . . . thing 
to disguise the fact that we've become 
the most aggressively inarticulate generation 
to come along since . . . 
you know, a long, long time ago!

I entreat you, I implore you, I exhort you, 
I challenge you: To speak with conviction. 
To say what you believe in a manner that bespeaks 
the determination with which you believe it. 
Because contrary to the wisdom of the bumper sticker, 
it is not enough these days to simply QUESTION AUTHORITY. 
You have to speak with it, too.

Rezos, Por Favor

Please pray for me this morning. In about an hour I'll be going in to take my AP Spanish Language exam. I'm extremely nervous, but I think and hope that I can do okay on this.

And by okay, I mean get something other than a zero.

Para Preparar Por El AP Spanish Language Exam, Este Post Es En Espanol

Enjoy, Chantell and Missy. Unfortunately, I have no way to use the alt keys, so there will be no tildes or accents.

No quiero tomar este exam en la manana. Necisito muchos rezos de ustedes. Por favor. Porque, siento que voy a ensuciar esto en una manera muy grande. Mi tenso de subjunctivo no existamente. Y, yo necisito eso. Tambien, en una manera grande. 


Asi pues, ruegue por favor. Ruegue mucho. 

A Door

I think I may have found a door.

Please pray for me over the next couple of weeks. If this works out, I'll let you all know first. 

If this works out, it could mean a change in majors. Or not. Perhaps just the addition of a minor. Or two degrees. I don't know.

Of course, this just became a possibility ten minutes ago, so I may be overreacting.

But still. Cool.

I don't have senioritis

I have no senioritis.

I'm not putting off my KAP English paper until the last minute.

I'm also not putting off my COTC paper until the last minute.

I also didn't wait until the last minute to fill out my AP Exam forms today.

I also didn't play hooky on Wednesday.

I'm also not spending my free time in the library workroom playing Pandemic II.

Nope. Not me.

Friends

I know it's old and everyone always says it, but there are times when I realize just how great the friends that I have are. I have the best friends that there are. I hope that they know that.

I think that they do. I wouldn't spend an hour and a half teaching one of them to play a song on the piano, which they had never touched before in their life, if I didn't love them to death.

I know that they love me. Otherwise, one of them wouldn't have baked cookies for those of us acting friends. Which were delicious, by the way.

Sometimes it just helps to throw that out there, though.

What Do You Want To Be?

I always loved for grown-ups to ask me this stuff. I loved to talk, incessantly, and because of this, the question of what I wanted to be would lead to a ten minute discussion about how I wanted to be a doctor, I had always wanted to be a doctor and how I was never, ever, ever grossed out by blood, nuh-uh, I would eat pizza and watch open heart surgeries with my daddy, so I was going to be a doctor and help people, yep.

I still have those occasional days where I'm wistful and wonder what would have happened if I hadn't slacked off and given up on that. What if I had decided that I was supposed to be a doctor and actually went after it. A girl in the senior class this year got into NEOUCOM and University of Akron. That was my dream. I wanted to go there and be a doctor. I was going to graduate in six years and work in an emergency room.Then I took Physiology, didn't do well, and decided that it wasn't for me. But I kind of slacked in that class, let's be honest. What if I hadn't given up? Maybe I would be starting school on June 8, too. I'll never know.

Then, a couple of years ago, I went through a phase where I wanted to major in Theatre Arts. I love to act. I love being on stage. I like to be the center of attention. But, well, I suck. I'm not that good. I'm only on stage for 57 seconds for a reason. I'm not that good. I would be slaughtered as a Theatre Arts major. I love the feeling of being onstage, and the idea of never doing it again after Saturday night absolutely kills me. I wish that I had tried harder. I wish that I had natural born talent that would take me to Broadway. I wish that I could play Elphaba, Roxie, and Sophie.That would be amazing. I would love every day of that.

Then, who could forget the various brands of teacher that I've wanted to be throughout the years. Special ed, History, and English have pretty much all been kicked out because of my experiences with Teacher Academy. Preschool and Kindergarten, yes, I could do those.

Most people don't know about the brief phase where I wanted to be a lawyer. My dad and I talked about going to law school and opening our own tort firm. That lasted for about two months. I would make a crappy lawyer.

Then, there are the wedding dresses. The fabulous yards of silk, tulle, and chiffon that make me want to break out into a musical number everytime I'm near them. I could be a bridal consultant, a wedding gown buyer, a wedding planner. There are so many possibilities.

Why is it, that at 18, I'm not allowed to drive, I can't live on my own, according to state law, I can't rent a car, I haven't graduated school yet, but I'm expected to know what I want to do with my life. When I was little, I loved for people to ask me what I wanted to be when I grew up. Now it just irritates me. Because I need to know, but I don't.

I hate that I'm limited by one career. I hate that, no matter what people say, people can't be whatever they want to be. The person who thought that cliche up was obviously a communist. Some people just can't be certain things. They don't have the talents or strengths needed to do everything. I wish I did, but I don't, either.

Maybe that's why the Hindus and Buddhists are so peaceful. They know that if they pick one career and hate it, they'll get to come back in the next life and try something else. Good for them.

 

The Educator and The Actress

I got to be both today.

 

It was excellent.

Le Pressure- Iz Feeling It

Senior Presentation Lesson Plan is due today. I just got it done five minutes ago and it's due next period.  It's a special kind of joy, let me tell you. I have to talk for 35 minutes about genetic screening, designer babies, and wrongful life lawsuits. And I have to make it interesting. Yay, me. On the bright side, after I give said presentation on the 27th (that would be a week from today, people) I can pretty much write off the majority of my senior year. This does not suck in the least. Last night, I was regretting my decision to sign up for the first possible day to present, but now, sitting here with my lesson plan done and a week of slave labor attempting to splice together Gattaca clips, put together PowerPoint, and edit my hand out of two stories relating to the subject (Harrison Bergeron and My Sister's Keeper) ahead of me, I'm pretty darn glad that until graduation, all I have to do in Global Issues is sit and watch people present their presentations. That's the life. Getting a grade for doing nothing.

The week following that, I have my AP exam on May 5. As well as an English paper due on May 4. That's not nearly as fun,  but after the AP test, Spanish is pretty much written off, and after the paper....well, I'm sure Dailey will still find a way to make my life a living inferno.

I'm not a fan of my new teaching placement, but I'm attempting to like it. I'm really trying. I'm doing Kindergarten special education right now. I have two classes with seven kids in one class and ten in the other. I work with intellectually challenged and emotionally disturbed children through a program called Extended Day and some of the stories that the teacher tells me about the kids break my heart. When you know some of the kids it's even tougher. I like it better than eighth grade, but not as much as preschool. I really miss preschool, right now. Another girl is in that classroom right now, and she doesn't like it. During class discussion over placements,she says, "I hate it. They don't do anything except for play. The kids don't listen and it's just frustrating!"

Well, it is a bunch of preschoolers. They aren't ready for the quadratic formula, yet.

Commencement speech auditions are today and Thursday. My name was chosen for today along with a bunch of other really good speakers. There are thirteen of us, I think. They pick three. I'm not feeling overly confident, but we'll see how it goes. The judges that I know of love me, so maybe I have a chance.

And now, to waste about twenty pages of paper with various needed printed things. I wish I was exaggerating.

Day of Silence

Go ahead and prepare your torches and pitchforks ahead of time. This will make some of you not like me.

Only because I completely forgot did I not participate in the event at left. I had planned to, but didn't.

Today is The Day of Silence. If you click on the picture, you will be directed to the website for it. The concept is to recognize the harrassment of gay people, by recognizing one person killed over the past year due to this violence, and to remain silent for an entire day in recognition of the violence.

There are some serious cons to living in a small, conservative town like Mt.Vernon. For one thing, the following conversation happened today.

Friend: Dude, this girl just came up to me and I said hi, she wouldn't talk, and she showed me a paper that said that she's doing a day of silence today.

Me: Yeah, it's against gay violence. I was going to do it, but forgot.

Friend: Why?

Me: Because it's wrong to beat the crap out of people.

Friend: Well, I don't think it's right to be gay.

Me: I don't either.

Friend: So, why were you going to do it?

Me: They're still people aren't they? Should they get the crap beat out of them because they're gay?

Friend: Well.....(exasperated stomp off)

This kind of thing makes me mad. Yes, I'm a Christian. No, I'm not gay. No, I don't believe that being gay is right. Yet, I don't exactly have a huge problem with gay rights, especially this one. The right to not be beat up because you're different, even if the difference is that you're doing something that people see as sinful. Think about it. Look at the things that I personally don't do, and then imagine who I would have to harass and bully if I followed that standard.

There would be girls who wear pants and cut their hair, as well as those who wear makeup and jewelry. There would be people who use bad language. There would be people who don't wait until they're married to have sex. There would be Trinitarians, Jews, Muslims, Methodists, Presbyterians, Catholics. The list is too long to put on here.

Maybe you don't think it's right. I don't either. I have friends who are, and I've told them that I don't think it's right. But they're still my friends. So if I'm not going to stand up for their right by being quiet all day, at least I can try to use the talking for some good while I'm at it.

I gave my speech in front of my English class yesterday, because Mrs.Dailey is making it worth fifty points. I got an 'A' on it and my class loved it. In Spanish, people heard people talking about it and wanted to hear it. They liked it, too. I'm really hoping that this means that I have a shot at getting one of the three slots. As far as I know, there are eleven or twelve of us trying out. James, my friend who said that commencement speeches were a waste of time and that I had nothing important to say in such a speech, as well as saying that he was taking the high road and not being fake and doing a speech, wrote a speech. A highly controversial speech. As in, we all gasped before laughing hysterically and telling him that there was no way that he would never be picked with that particular part. However funny it was. Another kid's speech was absolutely hilarious. His topic was "Dispelling the Myth That Jocks Have More Fun Than Nerds". I laughed really, really hard. Pretty much because I could relate. All too well, in fact.

My Spanish teacher, ever encouraging (Ha. Right.) criticized all three of these speeches. James, as we pointed out was never going to get picked because of aforementioned controversy (Creationism vs. Evolution. Obviously it's kind of a hot button issue here right now.) . I was either going to be asked to change one phrase in my speech (I make a crack at our football team. And both of their wins. Think Rydell High from Grease) because it may offend people or not picked at all. Even though members of the football team laughed hysterically. But I had already asked Mr.Tuel, a judge for the commencement speech auditions, and he said that I could still be picked, but they could ask me to change my speech. I don't know how I feel about that, but oh well. Ty wouldn't be picked because his speech "pitted the jocks against the nerds" and that might be offensive.

What? It's like the nerds revenge! The jocks have kept us down all through school. It's pay back!

But, offensive. We can't say something about the (crappy) football team because it might upset people. We can't have a speech devoted to nerd-dom because it might be offensive. And get this, our school doesn't even have a valedictorian. We don't announce who the valedictorian is. Guess why?

"We don't want to hurt people's self-esteems."

Yes, please. Let's not reward people for hard work. I don't know who the first in my class is, but I know that the third in the class has a 4.32.  That was as of first semester. She's now an exchange student to an Austrian college. And that's the THIRD in our class. We have a guy who is wait-listed to Harvard and Yale, and his back-up is the University of Chicago (Most people this year are going to either a school in Chicago, Bowling Green, or Kent State).But we can't recognize those people. Nope. Let's coddle the underacheivers (Like yours truly. I'm in the top third of my class and I'm quite okay with that.) and keep the overacheivers down. It's okay.

More Commencement Stuff

I thought I had reached a breakthrough with the list of teachers for my "Senior Invite", as they call this handshake at the end of commencement. I got the senior newsletter today and this is what the description said:

 "Added to commencement this year, seniors will be able to indicate a Mount Vernon High School faculty member with whom the student would like to shake hands as he/she exits the stage at commencement"

Note that it says faculty member, rather than teacher. My list is back up to five. Stupid.

My guidance counselor probably deserves honor after all of the stuff she's put up with. Stalkers. Last minute transcripts. Mental breakdowns. She's seen it all. I'm not sure though.

The librarian here is another one. I have pretty much lived in the library since freshman year, and I'm working here now. Mr.Tuel has always been very helpful and a cool guy to work with. And he looks the other way when I blog on the school computers, a big no-no, I might add.

******************************************

My current worst nightmare is that it rains on Commencement Sunday. That would mean that I would have yet another agonizing choice. I am given seven tickets in case of rain on the day of commencement. There are four people other than me in my family, leaving me three tickets. That means I can have Mistie, Carolyn, and Dawn in my cheerleading section, so hooray for that, but it also means that none of the rest of my family could be at the ceremony. Which would suck majorly. And if I decide to pick family over friends, then I have to decide what three people I want there, which is horrible because there could be some seriously hurt feelings in that case. I can think of at least two relatives who would throw a fit if they didn't get one, but let's not go into that. I really prefer not to think about indoor commencement as a possibility. Even though it is.

******************************************

In case you hadn't noticed, I am person of fairly large mass. Unfortunately, when ordering my graduation gown, I underestimated my weight by.....several units of measurement. This strikes fear into my heart. I dread the day that Herff-Jones shows up with caps and gowns. Actually, I dread the idea of not being able to fit into a graduation gown, which I don't like anyway. Our gowns are white! I don't want a white gown. I always wanted a black graduation gown, but only the boys get to wear black gowns. That's quite unfortunate. Because not only am I worried about not fitting into said gown, but the one thing that I took away from my freshman home ec class is that the color white makes things expansive. Or, in other words, bigger. That's exactly what I want to hear. That I may not fit into my gown, and that I'm going to look like a huge chunker. Hooray.

Maybe there's hope. I put on a jean skirt today and I only look moderately fat rather than morbidly obese like I usually do in it. There's no way in the bad place that I'm going to weigh what I told them that I weighed though. Because I'm an idiot. And hadn't weighed myself in God-only-knows how long.

******************************************

I had the unfortunate opportunity yesterday to hear a commencement speech against which I am competing. I am going to sum up my feelings in one sentence.

I'm up chocolate creek without a popsicle stick.

The girl just happens to be "Lucy"; what a shock that's not. All the teachers love her and she's a huge suck-up, so of course she'll get it. I mean.....the audition proceedings are fair and she has just as good a chance as anyone else.

But seriously, I know who I'm up against, and it's not at all promising.

******************************************

In closing, the faculty decided to put a handy little reminder that senior pranks can be dangerous and destructive. Students who participate in these acts may lose the privelege of participating in graduation and related activities.

I'm sure that will be a great deterrant, since we've had this prank planned since exam week. It's not dangerous, nor is it destructive. It's going to be annoying. And hilarious. But not dangerous.

Giving Honor...

I learned today that the senior class officers made an interesting request regarding our commencement this year. In a very cool gesture to the teachers who have had a lasting effect on us, the graduating seniors can request one teacher to wait for them at the steps after receiving their diploma, to shake their hand. This is ridiculously cool.

However, it poses a problem for me. I have to pick one teacher. That's going to be really hard. I have had some really good teachers and it's going to be hard to narrow it down to one. I don't even have to ask who some of my friends will pick. Rachel will pick her Latin teacher. James will pick his biology teacher. I have five that I'm considering. Five. How do you decide who is the most effective teacher that you have had in these four years? The candidates are:

1. Senora Tuel- This is my Spanish IV teacher. She's the only one that I really learned Spanish from and who actually gave a crap whether we learned or not. She really got to know her students, but she didn't care whether we thought she was fun or not. She was going to teach us, and if we had fun, that was great, too. I did have a lot of fun in that class, and learned a ton. I still talk to her about my missions trip and Spanish stuff, as well as college.
2. Mr.Jarosz- I have a history of hating math, as well as being an absolute moron when it comes to the subject. Letters and numbers should not go together, people! Mr.Jarosz was my geometry teacher in my sophomore year. By far, the coolest math teacher on the face of the planet. I loved geometry and when I took the ACT, I was pretty much praising God throughout the math section that I had a teacher like Mr.Jarosz. He had ridiculous, yet memorable ways to keep formulas in your head. He constantly sang, hummed, beatboxed, whatever. I'm pretty sure that he had ADD. He was never quiet or still. He still sings (loudly) in the hallways throughout the day. He set up proofs like a CSI episode. I was addicted to those things. He's the only math teacher that actually believed that I wasn't completely brain dead. And who could rap all of the words to "Ice, Ice Baby".
3. Mrs.Schutte- I had her my freshman year for Fundamental Principles of Science, or freshman science, and this year for Forensic Science. She's really on top of her game and truly an expert in her field. Her class was always interesting and she was always understanding, but strict, towards a slacker like me. She teaches pretty much every genre of science at this school, and is picking up Anatomy and Physiology this coming year when Cunningham retires.
4. Mrs.Smith- This is my Computer Applications I teacher from sophomore year. I tested out of typing and kind of got dumped on her at the last minute. Even though I was a stubborn know-it-all in that class (it was Microsoft Word, Excel, and Powerpoint. I'd been using it for a while.) she was still very patient with me and we had fun. She's written pretty much all of my recommendation letters when I need them and she always gives me rave reviews, even though she only had me for a semester.
5. Mrs.Hren- By far, the coolest social studies teacher ever. Mrs.Hren had my dad in high school, and has been through a lot this year. Her husband has had cancer, and it's been really rough on her. She's never given up on us bratty seniors, regardless. She's traveled to every continent except for Australia, which she's saving for last, and Antarctica, which apparently she has in the works. She's met everyone from the Crown Prince of Jordan to Mother Teresa. We have the same love of travel and she's been advising me throughout the year on getting passports and visas, as well as giving me information about the Critical Language Scholarship Program.

Can you see my dilemma, here? Any advice?

In Which I Can't Spell

I have lost all faith in Bill Gates.

While I depend on his spell checker religiously, I have discovered that it really is no help at all.

Note: I have developed this obsession with a poet named Taylor Mali. He's awesome and was the keynote speaker at the Educator's Conference that I went to at KSU a few weeks ago. I bought his book. He wrote a poem that pretty much sums up the entire problem spell check issue. He's completely non-school-appropriate, but this stuff is hilarious. Be forewarned.

So, I'm typing up my commencement speech, my really,really awesome commencement speech and it keeps throwing out suggestions about punctuation and wording. If I were to use said suggestions, my paper would be an absolute incoherent mess. Half the time, when I change the stuff just for fun, it recorrects its corrections, telling me that I'm stupid for listening to its suggestions. So, because I'm an intelligent human being, I'm punished with the sight of red and green squiggles all over my Microsoft Word document. That's nice, Bill. You're not a people person, are you? Actually, after this we already knew that you weren't.

In addition to this awesomeness, I feel like my space is being invaded. I have to share my library workroom during this period. I don't like it. For many reasons. Don't make me go into it. It's not pretty.

This is what you do at the end of Senior Year...

I have come to the realization that as of May 5, I can effectively write off my senior year. My senior presentation is on April 27th and the AP Spanish Exam is on May 5. A senior paper for English is due on May 4. I'm trying to talk my teacher out of this deadline as it is an unlucky day . She won't listen.

So, because of this realization, I still take notes on various the various problems that Africa has, but they look like this:

They include detailed sketches of the continent, complete with rivers, South African shading, Tanzania, and a warning that Madagascar contains....

...lemurs.

It also contains a plan for how to deal with the Somali piracy conflict-

Voila.

In other news, I'm off book for the play now. Off book for all 11 lines and 30 seconds of stage time that I have.

But, Gabri went to practice with me on her birthday (as her present), and the cast decided that she needed to be serenaded for her birthday.

It's a good thing that this is not a musical.

She had fun, though. So did her teddy bear. 

Oh, and here's that birthday picture-

That's my brilliant sister, for you.

One thing off of the list...

I have a rough draft of a commencement speech that I am extremely proud of.

And when I say extremely proud of, I mean that I think it's awesome but this is subject to change after I go show it to my teacher and ask her to edit it.

Also, if I don't make the cut during auditions for the actual commencement day.

Then I'll probably think it's sucky.

The Enigmas of Musette

Musette is ruining my life. I hate this piece with a fiery passion. It's not even funny. I have a dumbed down version, of course, because I've only been taking piano for three months, but that doesn't change the fact that when you're playing pizzicato with one hand, and a "bagpipe imitation" with the other, you get a serious headache. It's like when five year olds decide to try and pat their head and rub their stomach at the same time. There isn't enough coordination in the world for them to do that. My hand-eye coordination stops at the Medium level on Guitar Hero. I can't really even catch a ball. And I'm 18. I don't know how to ride a bike. If I can't ride a bike, how am I supposed to figure out Musette?

Also, there's a little note at the top of each print of Musette. "

"Not written by Bach. Anonymous."

If it's anonymous, why is Bach's name in big letters on the sheet music? Why does he get to take credit for Mr(s).Anonymous. Maybe George Clooney wrote it. Is that really fair to Mr.Ocean if we give Bach the credit for Musette. Not that I want Clooney's good (?) name to be spoiled with the piece of toilet paper that is Musette, but still. It's up for consideration.

You might say that this post makes me sound uncultured right about now. You know, for referring to Musette as toilet paper. Not at all. I like Minuet. I like Claire de Lune. I like Moonlight Sonata. I love the theatre, and love art. Rephrase. I love LOOKING AT art. I can't draw worth poo. But I enjoy Da Vinci, Kahlo, Dali, and Van Gogh, the last of which is a semi-foreign concept in this school district. I like things that make sense. Even if they don't, like the awesome stuff in the Washington D.C. sculpture gardens. Don't ask me to analyze them, but I think they are pretty awesome. If you don't make me analyze the stuff and just let me appreciate, I'm good. If I didn't have to play Musette, I would probably like it.

So, from this, we can conclude that piano lessons makes you uncultured.

Random, Unorganized Friday Thoughts

I think that sometimes in an average work week or school week, you have to get all the bad out at once and things then go back to normal. For example, Monday and Tuesday were very blah days; I was really tired, not motivated, but still the day wasn't that bad. Wednesday outright sucked. I mean just sucked beyond all reason. I rarely actually start crying in between classes- note I said actually start rather than feel like- but I did on Wednesday. It was horrible.

But after the crappiness that was Wednesday, things really calmed down. I haven't had a good day, per se, yet, but things have been calm. I got a new layout for the blog for those of you who say that red hurts your eyes. But my comments don't show up. I have emailed an expert in blog layoutage and hopefully will have the ability for you to send me nastygrams again shortly.

There are doughnuts in the library today. Two boxes. It's like torture trying to pick just one to be considerate of the bajillions of people who don't work in here, yet mooch. It's great fun. Of course, the moochers are teachers, and if I were a teacher and had to put up with myself, I would most likely mooch the occasional doughnut for sanity preservation purpose, as well. Why? Because I hate teaching anything above the first grade. I can't decide whether third graders or eighth graders are worse, though. Third graders have just really started to whine and complain and be sick of school, so it's really drawn out and annoying. Eighth graders have become proficient at the activity of whining, yet there is an end in sight for them to get out of this place, so they usually won't be so bad. Unless, of course, you have a repeat of my middle childhood placement, where you have children throwing other kids across the room into desks and walls. It's great fun, really. It's bad when half of the days that you're sitting in your placement you think, "Man, I really wish I was back at the low-income preschool getting peed on."

I really miss that placement. I loved that preschool.

Speaking of which, the poor teacher with whom I worked has to now work with a cheerleader from the teacher academy. I had begged to go back there, but it didn't work out so well. Poor Michelle. Poor kids. I found this out yesterday. But, apparently she has the morning class rather than the afternoon class that I had, so my kids will still be my kids. I think I am going to try to go back for the end of the year. Teacher academy gets out two weeks before my school. I think that would be too fun.

My commencement speech is still going nowhere. I'm stuck and threw out my old idea and am starting from scratch. It has to be done by April 15th for English, six copies have to go to the library by the 17th, and auditions are on the 20th. Along with all of that, I have a senior project to do by April 27th, because I was stupid and decided to go first because that would get it out of the way.

Idiot.

As if that were not enough, I also need to call the consulate, get my plane tickets(hopefully I'll have enough after my presentation on Sunday), and get my visa. In order to get my visa, I need to find out what my address is going to be when I'm in Paraguay. I have not gotten that far yet, needless to say. I'm feeling the pressure. I am leaving in less than three months. That is one of the most terrifying things on earth.

I haven't called Kent State about loopholes to the housing and application yet, either. Nobody has their Spring applications up yet. It's horribly frustrating.

Much like a diet, the second you decide something for sure, you immediately start questioning yourself. Ever since I thought, "Hey, I'm going to be a teacher!", I've been like, "Ummm....are you sure about that? You really, really, really like wedding gowns. Ooooohhh....Vera Wang...."That's always nice. I love self-doubt. It gives me the warm fuzzies.

In closing, how the flip biscuit did this happen? The two things aren't even related. Good grief.

I Have Stuff To Say, But How?

Since my freshman year, I have wanted to write a commencement speech. I have thought about what I was going to write diligently, and came up with some ideas. I was the first person to sign up on the list, got my audition form, and sat down to write. I was on a roll with some catchy introduction and it all of the sudden came crashing down on me.

My English teacher announced that writing a commencement speech was required.

This posed a problem for me for two reasons-

1. It was my commencement speech. I didn't want anyone else's input from my class, I didn't want anyone but the judges to hear it before the day of commencement. It was mine, all mine, and if it didn't make the cut, nobody would hear it. I have to present this speech in front of my entire English class so that they can critique me. What the flip biscuit is up with that?
2. It's now an assignment. Meaning there's pressure. Which gives me brainlock.

All of the sudden, my speech that was glowing before seems cliche and out-dated. To me. I think it sounds cliche. That's fine. I can criticize my own speech all I want. The problem is when other people decide to critique my speech. Before it's done. Which explains why I was about ready to snap the necks of three key people by the end of the school day yesterday.

And now, some letters-

1- Best friend (girl),
        You of all people know that I hate people looking over my shoulder when I write anyway. But when I tell you a bajillion times that I don't want my speech read before absolutely necessary, and you decide to read over my shoulder anyway, don't be surprised when I give you the stinkeye. Also, don't say, "Well sorrrryyyy....it's not like I knew." Because you did know. Because I told you. About thirty seconds prior to your snooping. I reamed someone else for doing that earlier today and told you about it.

2- Preppy girl whose opinion doesn't matter,
        I've gone to school with you since kindergarten. You've always been the lovable, adorable one with the mom who shows up at all the class parties and insists on taking charge. For example, when I was in second grade and showed up for the Valentine's Day party the day after I got twelve stitches in my foot and couldn't walk without hopping on one foot, limping, and leaning on my mom, your mom decided that the thing that would magically cure me was one of her sugar cookies. I hated sugar cookies. My mom told her this and she proceeded to argue with my mom about how that wasn't possible because  everyone loves her sugar cookies. But this is not about your mother. This is about you. You, first, snooped on my speech which was not anywhere near in plain view as I had devised a clever cloaking device of stacking books on either side of me and hunching over the desk. Not only that, but then you decided to tell me that you didn't think it could go anywhere interesting. I don't believe that I asked for your opinion.

3- Best friend (guy),
         You really ticked me off beyond all reason. I expect the snide comments from preppy girl. I've been putting up with her for thirteen years now. I can deal with it. But you, you're supposed to be my best guy friend. I don't trust most guys. I trust you though, and when you decide that you're going to take preppy girl's comments, throw them in my face, and then have the following discussion with me:

You- Why are you even doing this?
Me- I'm sick of all of the same people always having a voice. I have things to say, and nobody ever hears me. This is my chance. 
You- What do you have to say?
Me- Why would I tell you? You're already criticizing me without hearing it.
You- I'm not criticizing you for that. I'm criticizing you because you have nothing worthwhile to say, and you're going to try to say things anyway. 

When you say stuff like that, please don't wonder why I'm not talking to you in English the next period. Just because you're "taking the high road" and "aren't stooping to the level of the people who always give the speeches", doesn't mean that you can treat me like garbage and say that crap to me. You don't have to agree with me. But friends don't say stuff like that to other friends. I don't agree with you on most things, but I have never been mean to you like that. It was ridiculous.

Sincerely,
Me

Wedding Gowns and Play-Doh

On my desk I have two stacks of reading material on the shelves.

On one shelf, I have a stack of magazines. I buy wedding magazines whenever I have the money to do so. I have Elle, Vogue, Harper's Bazaar, and Town and Country stacked up.

On another, I have stacks of children's books, in Spanish and in English, and some Spanish coloring books.

Which one do I choose?

I love fashion. I live for Gucci, Prada, and Coach. I can identify a real versus a fake Dooney and Bourke or Louis Vuitton at a hundred feet. Wedding gowns are my passion. I love them. I have taught my little sister to identify mermaid, trumpet, ball gown, and a-line silhouettes on command.

Teaching was only a second choice for me. Nothing I ever took seriously. For some reason, I thought that teaching was beneath me. That's why, once I started my New Hope preschool placement, I knew I was in big trouble. The first time a little boy came up to me, slipped his sticky hand in mine and said, "Miss Rebecca, will you help me build a block tower", I was hooked. When my learning disabled kid in extended day kindergarten cried the day that I left, even when I was sure I wasn't getting through to him, and said, "Miss Wyan, pwease come back and visit. What if I miss you? What will happen?", I felt like my heart was breaking. I hated my eighth grade placement, but it showed me that teaching wasn't, well,  always like this . I was ecstatic when I found out I was teaching kindergarten for my last placement. I love little kids. Always have, always will.

This causes me to have to make the easiest, but hardest, decision I will have had to make to date. I have to reapply at Kent State in order to start in January rather than August. Do I keep Fashion Merchandising, or change my major? It's hard. I love wedding gowns, but I love play-doh more.

Kent State offers a degree in Kindergarten/Preschool education. I will be enrolling.