Husband Hunting part 2

After B and I broke up (one of the times, I can't remember which), I had a nice long talk with my roommate, L. She astutely pointed out that I really haven't been single since high school.

Huh.

Really? It'd been that long? I don't really think of it like that. I'm always "Oh, no, I had a relationship and that was almost 3 years and then I had another one and that was just under 2 years. And I dated some guy for like a month. And then tried it again with the 2 year guy for the holidays." But that doesn't really explain it. I was single for the summer after K and I broke up (having dated 2.5 years), before dating K again from the fall until the winter, at which point there was maybe a month before I dated B, but we broke up after a year and a half then it was probably a month before I dated-ish BMD, but things got serious too quickly so I went back to B for a few months and now it's been 9 or so months that we haven't been dating, but half the people I interact with accuse me of dating him anyway. The off periods total a little over a year. Maybe. If I'm being generous. Since high school, I have been single for roughly a year. And a majority of that has come only recently.

"You've changed since high school. What you want from a relationship is different," L said. But I know that. I have blog posts about it. "I've been single a lot so now that I'm with M, I actually know what I want." But I do know what I want, don't I? I keep saying I'm ready for a lifelong relationship, I don't want short term. I want someone to be my partner throughout life. I know that. But am I ready for it?

J bugged me about the same thing. I need to know how I operate. Love languages, she calls them. Take a quiz and it'll tell you your levels in each of 5 love languages. I got the max in "Quality Time", just above half in "Words of Affirmation", just below half in "Physical Touch" and "Acts of Service", and one point for "Gifts". The site I went to tells me that I "crave togetherness". So I want to be around my partner. Like bloody all the time. Yeah, already knew that I feel loved by spending time with my partner. I feel supported just by being around someone. I don't necessarily want to talk and I don't necessarily want to be in physical contact with the person, I just want to know they're around. Hell, I do this with my roommates; it's why I always leave my door open. I want to be in my space, but I want to know that people are around. So what was the point of taking this quiz?

Basically, I've got two people telling me that I don't know what I want, and me saying I do. So. Remember my old list? We're examining it, cleaning it up, and being transparent about the edits. I feel like I left a lot of things out about the life I want with my husband. And that's kind of important to talk about with future husband and make sure we've got overlap. That said, there is wiggle room. You can always negotiate. Brackets are to further explain my reasoning behind some additions/changes.

• Smart: Preferably Smarter than me. I like being challenged. I want to have meaningful conversations about what each of us is studying/teaching/doing along with discussing what is going on in our country and the world.
• Foodie: I don't care if he can cook, I don't care if he wants to have fast food 10 times a week. He should be able to cook without burning the house down. He should try and avoid fast food. [more falls under Health category] But He will enjoy spending hours at specialty food stores with me, even if we don't buy anything, and not just for the fact we are spending time together. He will not mind going out and spending $100+ on a dinner out. The frequency depends on his...
• JobCareer/Money: I don't much care what he does, but if he makes less than I make as an entry level teacher or journalist, he's out. I want a life where I don't have to work if I don't want to and not worry too much about the impact that will have on our lifestyle. I do not mind those who will think I wish to be a kept wife. I like how I was raised, but I watch my mom and I can tell something is missing for her. And I think that was having a career. I'm a little off topic; Adjusting for inflation a little, let's say I'd like my husband to make 60k+/year. (So with that we can go for that kind of dinner once every 3 months-ish? Maybe I should bump that salary up...) Doesn't feel the need to share bank accounts once married [so we can mostly live off his earnings, while putting most of mine into various savings accounts]. Uses a monthly budgeting tool [eg. Mint.com]. 
• Socially Liberal: I care about economic leanings a bit, but I can put those differences aside. It's super difficult for me to deal with people who aren't socially liberal. Even socially moderate it kinda bugs me. I like talking about politics and I can't stand it if my SO has opposing views. disagrees with me. Because I don't want to argue about that. So we better agree.
• Geeky: Ways can vary. But if it's not obvious after the first date, forget it. I'm geeky. If geekiness isn't invited, I'm outie. My partner should share that as well.
• World Traveller: If not yet, then aspires to. Has a list of places he wants to go and why. Must have passport within a year of us dating. Does not allow it to expire. Takes a vacation once a year, preferably at least a week long. Travels by car, plane and boat. And whatever future forms of travel become popular. Trains, if they make a comeback?
• Open Communication: Has a "take me as I am" attitude about who he is. Acknowledges his past, does not let it rule him. Already knows self and expects that I know myself as well. Doesn't try to change that, but constantly searches for compromises in areas where we disagree. Doesn't have secrets in the relationship. Discusses issues frankly and as soon as is reasonable. Trusts me with his secrets, as I trust him with mine. Understands how I get angry. Accepts it, but helps me be better about it. Isn't afraid to upset me because he knows I'll calm down with 30 minutes of alone time. Works with me to improve our communication (because there will be times it will suck). Doesn't give up. Will hold me accountable to the same standard.
• Dog Lover: Can like cats, but if it boils down to it will pick dogs over cats. Wants a dog to raise with family. Will love my dog, but accepts it is MY dog. Likely has own animal. If neither of us have a dog, will go to Humane Society with me to volunteer and/or go to dog parks to interact with dogs. (This can be just to spend time with me. Less important than foodie.)
• Follows a Sport: Doesn't have to be my sport/s. Just a sport. Different ones are actually ideal so we can learn about each other's teams. If he likes the Calgary Flames he is automatically disqualified. I. Don't. Care. Very serious about that.
• Reads: I don't care what. I don't care how. It can be history books from the library or the latest D&D rules he just downloaded dl/ed. Just read. There is always time to read. [so much information is consumed visually these days, but those who regularly consume the written word tend to be smarter]
• Kids: Does not want a biological child. Is open to adoption or fostering, but isn't set on it. Isn't set against it either. If it is decided down the road that we are both for, then only in very limited quantities, only after the child has a college savings account started and only after both parties are in agreement on staying in one location for the next 10-15 or so years. Also in agreement that we still travel like fools and teach the kid to be awesome in public.
• Location: No cities smaller than 50k. This applies to suburban cities around much larger metros. City will be a blend of ethnicities [I hate the term "diverse"]. City will have multiple cultures as well as it's own [relatively] unique culture. City will be liberal-leaning [though try finding one that meets the other criteria that isn't]. Country is negotiable.
• Health: Won't let me become diabetic. [This can mean and includes many things, from not getting a lot of fast food with me, to helping me find a way to grade papers and work out at the same time. I don't know exactly what yet. He just won't let it happen. And yeah, okay, we're tapping into one of my greatest fears here, but that's another post] Won't let himself become diabetic either.
• Time: Largely wants to function as a unit outside of work (ie, go do stuff together with either block's groups), but wants to plan the unit's time. Plans can be simple (Netflix and delivery) or elaborate (concert and new dining place), but if plans are made for that night those plans are not broken. If no plans are made, block can make non-unit plans without warning and other block cannot get upset. Thinks creating a Google Calendar for blocks' schedules is actually a good idea.
• Marriage: Wants to eventually. Mainly for tax purposes. Only after already living together. Not in a church.
• Religion: Either isn't religious, or doesn't try and convert me. Doesn't expect me to attend services, but always invites me. Doesn't expect me to strictly observe any religious holidays, but does expect me to be respectful and helpful for his. Isn't opposed to attending celebrations for other religion's holidays (ie, attending a Passover if the partner isn't Jewish).
• Bonus Points Given For Physical Appearance: Taller than 5'10", dirty blonde hair, exceptionally well groomed facial hair (if any, no full beards), no 6-pack or beer gut (firm to squishy, but no rock hard or jiggle, savvy?), does not wear obvious athletic shoes unless exercising. None of those are requirements. No one will be eliminated based on them. It's just an ideal that I want to make note of. Just like I hope some guy is making note that they want a curvy, small waisted, brown haired, blue eyed, 5'6" girl who hardly ever wears make-up. Or, you know, maybe just a few of those.

It is different than I wanted before, but I think the biggest changes were the additions. I more closely examined what I want out of a relationship. It isn't just a list of likes and dislikes; now it's a more comprehensive "let's compare outlooks on life and see if we're compatible." Which is as it should be. I know what I need to be happy in a relationship and this list includes that.

I'm actually really nervous about publishing this list, but I've had it sitting here largely unchanged for the past 6 months so I think that speaks to its accuracy. Plus I've been thinking a lot about relationships lately (I tend to do that around finals) so what the heck, perfect timing, right? Oof. Here goes.

Unfashionable Teach

Soooooooo....

I created a teacher fashion blog. Come check it out here!

Diabetic

My mom is diabetic. She's struggled with it. A lot. The first Halloween after she found out was really difficult for her because basically her first doctor was like "No more sugar. Ever," so she saw all these treats tempting her but she couldn't have them. We used to have ice cream for dessert every night and suddenly that was gone from the house because Mom couldn't handle it. She was given an assortment of pills and when we moved to Indiana that assortment increased and kept increasing until she stopped taking them. What little weight she had lost came back on at least twofold. My dad staged an intervention and used me as a crying emotional weapon to scare her back into taking her meds.

It worked for about a month. Then she went right back to not caring. I think in many ways, my mom was depressed and didn't want to seek help. But more than that, I think she was fed up of letting a schedule of pills run her life. Eventually something snapped and she started making an effort to change.

She started running. She did a 5k, then a couple of 10ks, then decided she wanted to run a marathon in Disneyworld when she turned 50. So she worked her way up, ran a half marathon before that, and ran the full marathon. It's been two years and she mostly sticks to half marathons now, but through exercise and a little bit of dieting, she is now 10 pant-sizes smaller than what she was when she was diagnosed.

My mom doesn't take as many pills now and she doesn't test her blood as often. Both her parents are diabetic too. My grandma tests her blood everyday and eats only low-fat, sugar-free foods, regardless of the chemicals in them. She takes a concoction of pills and doesn't work out exactly, but she stays active. She's doing okay for a woman over 80, though she looks frail. My grandpa doesn't test his blood and doesn't workout and doesn't take pills and snacks worse than the grandkids. He's not doing okay. His eyesight is impaired to the point he couldn't get a driver's license. He has had heart surgery. Twice. He is very arthritic.

Statistics show that I will be diabetic too. It's genetic at this point and not really related to weight, but still this belly I've grown over the past year has me terrified. My mom's been trying for the past two years to get my blood tested. I don't want to know. I don't want to be a 20something who must adhere to a doctor's diet made for overweight housewives in their 40s with disposable incomes. I don't want to be ruled by pills. Just give me my 20 more years of freedom. Of blissful ignorance.

When the fear of becoming diabetic sets in, I go into a fervor. I'll try and control my weight by either diet or exercise. Never both at the same time. I've become vegetarian and counted calories and gone to the gym everyday to do the same workout over and over. Currently it's exercise in the form of pilates and yoga and zumba. Workout without realizing you're working out. Trick your mind into thinking you're having fun. Because that's the only thing that seems to stick with me.

I've never had an issue with how I look, which seems to be the most common reason for dieting and working out. I never look at myself and think, "Oh, this is unhealthy, I should lose weight." I always think, "You're going to become diabetic sooner with that belly." It's always belly. Never cottage cheese legs, never flabby arms. Always belly. And this word that haunts me. Diabetic. I'm going to be diabetic.

It means high blood sugar and high cholesterol and clogged arteries and arthritis and amputated fingers and feet. It means I either have to become a health nut, a pill junkie or a health risk. Death has always been my greatest fear, but lately diabetes has been threatening to take over that spot. I am scared of an incurable yet incredibly treatable disease. If someone walked up to me and told me I was diabetic, I'd be paralyzed. I'd freeze and become numb, not knowing how to react.

Now, logically, I'm sure I'd have the good sense to get myself to a doctor, get a testing kit and start monitoring my blood sugar and changing my diet and maintaining an exercise routine and hope and pray that I don't have to take too many pills, but I don't want that for myself. I don't want to do those things for a disease. I want to do them for me. Because it'll make me a better person. I'm just not seeing that yet. I'm sure you guys are saying, "But if you have proper diet and exercise now you'll stave off diabetes later and that makes you a better person." My brain doesn't make the connection that way. It's the same as telling an otherwise perfectly healthy person, "Hey, exercise now and live longer." We all know it, but it's just not motivating.

Fear is motivating, to a point. Fear motivates me until I forget what I was fearful of in the first place or become so overwhelmed by it that I give up. I either see/feel results and stop making that change, or I don't see results quick enough that I stop making that change. I want to break this cycle, I just don't know how.

Roommates

It's interesting living 18 years without having to share hardly a thing, then suddenly being expected to get along swimmingly with whoever the random person you're paired with is.

It's a beautiful thing when it works out amazingly. It's never happened for me though. That's not to say that I don't love my roommates. I do, always have, always will. But every year I feel like I've fought some big conflict with a person I'm living with at the time.

But I've seen it work. When K lived with random people, he and his military bound roommate got along like none other. They watched all the same TV shows and introduced each other to the music each of them liked and within 3 months were singing along with the other's music and even having mini dance parties. I was the witness to this dynamic. There was S, the military IT major. D, the token Asian who everyone picked on. Then there was P, the pharm school guy. K and P hit it off originally - their mutual geekiness brought them together, but it was S and K that forged the strongest bond.

It's nice being able to see that those types of bonds are possible between roommates.

I had a really weird flashback to that today. My boyfriend, B, and his co-worker B (let's call him BMD) hit it off as soon as they started working together. B and BMD bonded initially over TV. Now they've realized they both share the same shitty taste in music. When that song came on, they both just started dancing. They've serenaded me, drinking in the backseat of my car. They're thinking about moving in together and I can just see them being exactly like K and S. It makes me happy to think that I can visit them next year and, oh, I dunno, I'll accidentally walk in on them playing a Taylor Swift song on Rock Band. And then they'll actually fairly justify it!

I haven't had much luck with roommates. It's never been absolutely horrible, but it's never been that perfect experience. But that's okay. I'll manage by living vicariously through other's perfect pairings.

Sizing You Up

I don't shop at Hollister. Not because I am against the brand or I don't like their styles - I do like some, and frequently shop at one of the company's affiliates, American Eagle (but stray away from their other, Abercrombie and Fitch). I don't shop there simply because I can't fit into their clothes. You might think I'm joking, but I assure you, I'm not. It's rather silly because, as I mentioned, I love to shop at American Eagle and, obviously, I wouldn't shop there unless I fit into their clothes. And, at their store, I can, quite easily. I practically live in their jeans (oh, I'm such a fool for that marketing campaign). But Hollister? I must not be their demographic.

Let's throw a few facts out here first, shall we? I am 5 feet, 6 inches and hover between 135 and 145. We'll stay with 145 to favor the companies. My waist is around 26 and my hips are 38. I'm a 32D and I've got curves in back too. Look up hourglass figure in the dictionary and I'm fairly certain you'll see my picture. Positive self-image? Most definitely. Now then, I wear a medium sized shirt and 6-8 jeans. This includes the 7 in juniors styles and the 27-29 range of designer brand style sizing. And at American Eagle, I fit this perfectly. I have only medium shirts and dresses from there and both 6 and 8 pants - depending on the style.

But at Hollister? I can't fit my rear into their size 9 jeans. My boobs pop out of their medium shirts - and the large shirts for that matter. Their large so so soft comfy sweatpants don't cover my crack (oh Hollister, if only your sweatpants covered my rump, you'd have all my money forever) (Omg, they have a pair that do now and they're so wonderful and soft and were half off! Yay!). And it goes beyond that. While sometimes (NOT all the time, darn you and your utilitarian guarding of your sweatpants styles, darn you!) extended sizes are offered online, in store size 9 and L are the largest sizes you'll find. But XS and even XXS are plentiful.

So look, I know I'm not overweight. I'm comfortable with my weight and my proportions (except that one time when I was 16 and my grandmother told me I had "child-bearing hips"). I'm not here to critique Hollister's practices. They're running a business and their business model is working for them. But that doesn't mean I won't question it.

Did you know, a size 0 today would have worn a 14 in the late 30s and an 8 in the late 60s? Vanity sizing is becoming a huge issue in our society (take a peek at the infographic on that link). So...that's kind of why I refuse to get mad at Hollister for not carrying my size. Because who's to say what is my size? In America, we don't have a standard for measuring clothing sizes. And while it's not as big of an issue for men (or so my experience has been when shopping with male relatives/friends/SOs), it's a huge issue for women.

And then throw the whole issue that the average American woman is a size 14 (or has it changed since I last heard? I'm afraid I couldn't find an authority on this) and we're just confusing everyone. Is that a size 14 now or a size 14 in the 80s? Wouldn't that be about a 20 by now? Would they have even made clothes for what today we call plus sized women back in the 40s? Does the plus size designation encourage size vanity (different from vanity sizing)?

I happened to purchase a skirt and a cardigan at a secondhand store a couple months back. The two items I purchased were from Hollister. They're both larges, but were in with the rest of the mediums. The skirt has an elastic waist and, well, fits just about perfect. The cardigan....let's just say, it's a good thing I plan on only wearing it open. I was kind of bothered by seeing that they were size L. I'll own up to it. Despite all my image positivity, I wasn't comfortable buying large sizes. I'm a medium. Medium on top, medium on bottom. Not a large. But in the 80s, would I have been a large? Could I have been a large? Or would the general size designations have shifted as well? A 14 would be the start of the larges and a 10 the mediums and a 4 the smalls?

It's a slippery slope that we're on, and I really think it needs to stop. Most other countries have standard sizes which surprisingly aren't too different from ours. If we could just have the clothing industry conform to one standard, it would make life so much easier.

And I could wear medium sweatpants from Hollister until the end of time.

Coming Clean

My darling friend, J, has been putting up brief snippets of her diary recently. I decided I'd do something in the same vein. I've really been meaning to tell this story, if for no other reason than to get it out there, but that rather ignores all the true reasons I'm telling this story. It's not a happy story, or a funny story, and it's not necessarily a sad story either. But it's the truth. As unbiased as it can get when recounting the end of one relationship and the start of another.

The true end. You all already know the false end, when K and I broke up over the summer. Perhaps I shouldn't say false, as that tends to imply that I intended to deceive. Maybe the first end is better.

Either way, come K's fall break he wanted to come visit me. I couldn't think of a reason to say no. The two guys I was crushing on at the time either weren't available or not interested, and by the end of that weekend, K and I were basically back together. I say basically because, well, we never said we were just dating each other. Only people at my university knew, and even then, I didn't go around telling anyone; they usually found out by accident. Whether it was seeing him visit me or asking where I was on a particular weekend, people started to find out. Most were surprisingly supportive - they felt K deserved a second chance, something I flipped back and forth on while deciding if I should get back with him in the first place. My parents eventually began to suspect something around Thanksgiving, when I said I was going out to watch a movie with K and some other friends. They didn't approve of my hanging out with him. I pretty much told them to shove it.

I can't say that things were the same, because they weren't. Things weren't better, or worse, but they weren't the same. It was just nice being with someone familiar, even if neither of us would consider it a real relationship. That became just another one of our issues. I didn't trust him to be loyal to just me. He didn't trust me not to hurt him. So neither would let our eyes wander and neither would let the other close enough to hurt or be hurt. Neither of us were terribly happy in the relationship, but that didn't stop us from trying to make adjustments for each other. I'd visit more, he'd compliment me more, things like that. There was always a solution, there was always something we could do to make it better, maybe not immediately, but that would eventually happen and we'd be happy. And we'd hold onto that like none other.

Until there were no solutions anymore.

Throughout that semester, K had been interviewing for various programming positions. He ended up with a few offers around the country. The one he was most interested in was in Phoenix. The one from a company he had previously worked for was in KC. I felt many of our issues could be resolved if he were to take the job offer in KC. He liked the company, already knew all the people he'd be working with and he'd be close to me. Once I graduated, he could move on to where ever he pleased and I'd follow. The week he was doing final interviews with the company in Phoenix, we got into a huge argument about him not really preparing for the interviews. He had settled on an Indy based company (KC company hadn't gotten back to him yet, I was still holding out) and he didn't really care anymore. I was upset because I felt this was foolish and immature. During his Phoenix visit, he wouldn't talk to me. Until one night.

It was Sunday, right before finals week. B had been flirting with me all week and weekend and we'd hung out...5 nights of 6? Something like that. That night, I was over at his friend's house with him and two other couples, one male member being his closest cousin. They got drunk. We played Presidents and Assholes and it just so happened that I would be the one who could tell B what to do. This mostly was just "take a drink" but the hostess decided to get creative about it. She had been drinking a lot when she leaned across the table and asked, "So is this the girl you're trying to hook up with?" I cracked up while B remained silent (I swear he shrunk in his seat a little). Then, "I don't have to answer that if she says it, right?" "No, but you do if I tell you to. So answer the question." A pause. "Can I just drink?" "Sure, take a drink, but answer the question." "I don't hook up." If it hadn't been apparent where we were headed by then, it certainly was clear now. It wasn't just flirting, there were intentions behind it. On both ends, so don't think I'm trying to shirk my role in all this. Not half an hour later though, K texted me after almost a week of no communication. He wanted to talk to me. He missed me. I waited until I could leave without arousing suspicion, then booked it back to my apartment.

It should have been really simple. It should have been I come clean about flirting b/c I was feeling ignored , K gets understandably upset, we promise to work on it. Instead it ended up with K telling me to pursue a relationship with B and him logging off on me. Two hours later K starts texting me, saying he was wrong. I tell him I knew he was and it's okay. I tell him after finals, I'll see him in Indiana. Not three days later he's telling me I shouldn't make plans to see him over break and I'm trying to see B before I leave and it never happens and I return home frustrated, thinking this will just be a repeat of last semester.

The first few days suck. I spend my time texting L who is home in STL and avoiding my family. I spoil the dogs with attention and walks. I keep to myself. Until K texts and asks me out for coffee with another high school friend, H. I say yes. I don't know if they planned it, but H spends the whole time telling us how good it is that we've worked things out and we immediately fall into the role of the happy couple around the holidays. But, at least for me, that's all it was. An act. That blanket you throw on even though it's worn too thin to keep you warm. I knew that when Christmas came we wouldn't have gifts for each other and we wouldn't see each other's families and come New Year's I would be going to the annual party alone. I did go alone, but I ducked out early and headed over to my second mom's party, M, where the rest of my family was. At midnight both K and B text me. I don't remember what I said, only that I made a conscious decision to string both of them on and see which worked out. I'm not proud of that, don't mistake me. I'll tell you why I did it though: I didn't trust K to have his mind made up one way or another, and I couldn't trust B to actually be into me since he'd basically led me on at least once before.

The next day my brother and I headed out for a ski trip to Colorado. We stopped over at my university to save on hotel money. I decided we should go directly to B's house as he had invited me over to watch movies. We ended up cuddling on the couch until around 4am. My brother later tells me he felt like he was cockblocking just by being there. For the rest of the drive to Colorado, B and I start this game to keep me awake. We ask each other questions back and forth. I don't think of K until the fourth day of the trip when he texts me to see how it's going. We briefly update each other, but the sheer number of texts B has amounted against him speaks volumes. I brush it aside, knowing that K and I work better in person, still not wanting to fully believe that B liked me.

When I get back to IN, my parents are on vacation so I spend a few days at K's college before heading to mine. It's there we have a conversation about where he'll be working. He chose Phoenix, sent in his acceptance in the first few days of the year. I swallow my concerns, knowing stating them again would be viewed as not having faith in the relationship. Besides, it makes no difference now. Instead, I choose my words carefully and explain that I'm worried about doing the long distance thing again. I don't know that I can. I make it about me, a "me issue" instead of an "us issue." K holds me and tells me we'll make it work. But I don't believe him. When I leave I tell him that I don't think the relationship will work out in the long run and it would probably be best if we backed off. I thought this was us breaking up. He thought this was me continuing to voice my concerns.

When I get back to my university, it isn't long before B asks me out on a date. I accept. K and I have hardly been in contact, but there's enough doubt in my mind that I need to clarify he and I are over. It's the first day of class. I figure I should call him. I say I can't do this anymore and he just says okay. There's a silence for a bit, then he says he'll be right back and I think he's either gone to yell about me to his roommates or to get tissues. He comes back shortly. I say I'm sorry and he says I know and we hang up without another word. Later that week I go on the date with B. After the extremely...eventful date where he locks his keys in his car, I get a rose, we get stuck in snow trying to get out of my apartment complex, and fall asleep watching movies at his house, he asks me to be his girlfriend. Again, I accept.

Simply put, that's where the story ends. But it's never that simple with me, is it? The first few months of dating was a huge adjustment to me. I'd find myself saying phrases I used to say all the time with K just out of habit (example: like 2 or 3 weeks into it, I was being a playful-annoyance and to make sure B knew I was just joking around I flipping said, "Love me?" like I flipping always did with K. I about had a heart attack and thank god B pretended not to hear me b/c I was mortified the rest of the night) and I fell into the routine I had with K. I don't know if he realizes, but B broke me of my old habits. I stopped being so controlling in the relationship, I started voicing my complaints instead of letting them fester or internalizing them. Being in a relationship was so much easier and happier and more fun than I had remembered. B's fantastic communication skills started rubbing off on me and have helped our relationship so much, I'm not sure we'd have made it this far without them.

But then there is still K. First, he defriended and blocked me in every way possible, and I understood because he was upset with me. Then he unblocked me started texting me all the time and wanted to visit before he moved to Phoenix. Then he stopped talking to me because he didn't want to hear about my relationship (even though he wanted to tell me about his). Then he wanted to be friends with me, but I was going through a really rough time and couldn't put any decent effort in. Now he's in a "doesn't want to be friends" phase, only this time it's because he doesn't like me. But you know what? I'm okay with it. Sure, it hurts that someone I had a relationship with doesn't think I'm a person worth being friends with, but if he can't see that I'm a good person, that's not my fault. I still hope that K and I can be friends again someday, but I think it's very unlikely to happen.

So if you didn't make it through all that, basically about a year ago I cheated (definitely emotionally, not physically (at least in my book)) on two guys to get into a relationship that is going amazingly well that I might have just jeopardized by posting the story on the blog. Yeah, I think that about covers it.

Grocery Greeters

Lately, I've realized I don't like going grocery shopping alone. Even though it usually means taking two or three times as long to get what I need (for some reason, I'm really efficient at grocery shopping and many of my friends are not), it's okay. Because someone is there. To save me from them.

Now, when I say them, I don't literally mean the greeters at your grocery store of choice. I really mean the people who take it upon themselves to talk to the young woman shopping by herself. In the past few months, I've had someone give me advice on how to choose a mate, someone else tell me a joke about sex, someone else discuss the nitty gritty details of her custody battle and yet another fully stop me and explain the merits of particular brands of hard cider (though I had very fruity girly alcohol in my own hands). Along with the few regulars (as I call them), "Where'd you find X?", "Which X is better?" "How do you choose X-produce?". But those bother me far less. Let me be so so very clear. I do not seek advice, I do not speak to people who don't work at the place I am shopping (nor do I work at these locations), I am not a therapist and I do not like hard cider.

It's not as amusing as you'd think. In fact, it kind of scares me. I don't mean to seem like I'm terrified of strangers, not at least in this case. We're all grocery shopping, we're just going about our routines. It's okay to feel some sense of camaraderie. But seriously? I don't know you. I don't know your name, I didn't ask you a darn thing. The lady who told me about her custody battle? She started the whole thing by asking me about Diet Coke cans. Apparently, they've changed their design and it's all just too much change for her to handle.

...

Lady, hold it together. I've been through tough times too, including talking about murder and roommates in my first class of the day right after my roommate was murdered. It's okay. You're stressed and possibly on the verge of tears, but you're managing the best you can and that's good. But don't you dare think it's acceptable to walk up to some random person and rant to them.

When these situations happen, I find myself making noncommittal grunts and nods, sometimes even a half-smile. But I don't encourage them. I don't know what it is about me. I've got my list, I've got my cart, I'm moving through the store with purpose. Why do they feel like they can come up to me? Do any of you have stories about grocery greeters?

i-oh-what?

Apple is really starting to bother me. Especially their "introducing iOS5" video. If you don't feel like watching, it basically goes like this.

     We have unobtrusive notifications now! And you can go directly to view that message/email/missed call! We are awesome! What do you mean Android has been doing that the whole time...? No, no you must be lying, we are clearly superior. This puts us years above anyone else because the way we do it is so stylish. Wait, you mean people actually created skins to make it look prettier on Android? Pff, why would anyone want to change the amazing styling of Apple. They can't do that. We are king.
     We also have a cool new newsstand for your magazines if you have purchased one of our $500+ tablets. Because we have exclusive contracts with magazines for publishing them electronically. Because we are Apple and we are God.
     Wanna know what else we added? NOTES! No more need for downloading the Evernote app because we thought it was such a great idea, we just incorporated it into our stuff. Yaaaaay us. Guess what else we thought was cool! Photo apps! So we are now letting you edit photos after you take them. Whooo, are we awesome or what?
     Oh hey, oh hey! We've now integrated Twitter! Zing, take that Android! WHAT?! NO! STOP SAYING ANDROID HAS DONE THIS! YOU LIE!

The only positive thing I can say? If you do have an iPad, new Safari capabilities seem fairly cool. And if you have an Apple to television wireless thing you can connect your iPad even more. So basically...if you've spent a whole bunch of money on Apple products before, they work even better together. Which is nice and is what they should be striving for anyway.

I don't know, I don't mean to sound like I'm hating on Apple so much b/c I really do quite enjoy my old Leopard-running MacBook Pro. But I don't like their calendar and I don't like their mail and I find myself using Google products a lot more.

Oh, but what does it matter anyway? In 5 years everything we use a computer (or the "smart" aspects of our smartphones) for is going to be done through a web browser. Operating systems will be obsolete.

Total

According to Merriam-Webster's online dictionary, it is a transitive verb and there are three definitions of the word total. The first is "to add up" as in compute. The second is "to amount to" as in number (though I think sum works better with amount to). The third is what we are concerned with. "To make a total wreck of: demolish; specifically: to damage so badly that the cost of repairs exceeds the market value of the vehicle." Again, I would make a substitution of "total wreck" to "completely wreck" but I have this thing about using the word you're defining in its definition.

It is believed that I totaled my car Saturday night around 9pm local time 6 miles from the Illinois-Missouri border heading back to college. I was 100 miles or an hour and a half away from my destination, heading back from Indiana. I said bye to my mom and dogs 10 hours before. I dropped my best friend J off at the airport 7 hours before, after getting Ethiopian food and cupcakes (Here Comes the Bride survived the wreck intact, amazingly, but I left it in the car and it got rained on and then it got hot, sorry J). I visited my second mom and her family 5 hours before and faced the inquisition about the relationship between B and I. And now my car had hydroplaned and spun off the right side of the road and was sitting facing oncoming traffic, backed up the dirt that is built up to form an overpass.

Let's get the facts you're all concerned about out of the way. Yes, I am fine. I have whiplash and a scratch on my arm and a cut on my leg but beyond that I am FINE. No one else was in the car with me. No other cars were involved. No people were hurt. No rails, poles, lights, whatever else the government would love to charge me for had it been ruined was damaged. It is just my car.

As you might have guessed, the crash was rear impact, which is why my "injuries" were so minor. My back windshield shattered, the whole trunk crunched. The airbags did not deploy. The driver side window shattered, we're not sure if it just happened or if it was b/c of my head. Either way, my glasses flew off and out. So did my deodorant, but I picked that up later (and promptly dropped it when the police pulled up b/c who wants to be caught holding deodorant while the police give you the 5th degree?). I thought I lost toothpaste, but that was just in the bottom of the bag. And my cell phone and laptop chargers were on the floor in the back so I didn't lose them either. I HAD my H&M black jacket when I left the crash sight, but it either got left at the truck stop the police dropped me off at (friends were on their way) or in the back of the police car. I also lost a debit card, but I let the bank know and closed the account the next day. So all in all, not too bad.

I mean, considering. You know. =/

I don't know if it's the racer in me, but it was really really difficult to say bye to my car. I know I'm lucky and I know it could have been much worse, but all I can think of is that I should have been able to save it. I remember thinking as the accident happened, "I got this, I got this, oop, there it goes," and then it spun. And I didn't get emotional at the wreck site or riding back to A's when it was storming or when my mom flipped out when my parents picked me up the next day. But seeing my pretty little car next to mangled hunks of metal and thinking, "Oh, she's not too bad, I'll get her back," and then having the tow guy tell me the rear axle is broken and it's probably totaled? Yeah, I started crying. But it's stupid because I know a car is just a possession at the end of the day. It wasn't near as severe as losing a person or an animal, but on the other hand it's not as mild as donating your favorite stuffed animal or toy from your childhood. The only thing I can think of that's comparable is if you ever did something to break your laptop and it couldn't be fixed but even then, that's not quite the magnitude. I don't know, maybe it's just me because I have connections with cars since I'm weird like that.

It's ironic that I was talking to B the week before saying in my family we run our cars into the ground before getting rid of them. I was telling J just a day or two before that though I plan on keeping my Mazda 3 until after college, my next car would have to get at least 40mpg because gas prices are bound to go up, though I hope not too much before they can create a fuel efficient car that's about as zippy as mine. Let's see if they have.

A Miss on the Radar

 Question: does this scream lesbian to you?

Because apparently to the gal working the Steak n Shake drive-thru it does. And to a female couple walking around Walmart.

But what is it about the outfit? Fedoras were once considered kind of "lesbian fashion" but every female (and a bunch of hipster male) celeb and their mom has been seen out in a straw fedora in the past couple of years. Plaid shirts, those too are lesbian fashion? Whoops, someone forgot to tell American Eagle, Hollister, Macy's, Guess, etc for the past 3 years. And it's not just that popular stores are producing these fashions. It's the way they do it. Sure, my plaid shirt is felt and rather quiet tones, but it's super fitted and show-y which makes it more "straight girl fashion." And sure, "femme" is a type just like "butch" is a type but "femme" lends itself more to 50s and 60s and pin-up. Which I'm not doing. And wanna guess the lower half? Not baggy jeans and Converse - had I done that maybe these looks and flirts would be warranted. But skinny jeans and boots.  Super tight skinny jeans! Like I struggle to get them down when going to the bathroom tight! And my loverly grey boots with heels.

I don't have much of a radar. I mean, I dated someone who's more attracted to men than women and had no clue until the relationship was falling apart. I've been friends with people for months before they're like, "Oh hey, I'm (not hetero)" and I'm floored. But I'm not sure if this is a good thing or a bad thing.

On one hand, I think it's nice that I define people by their personality as opposed to their sexuality. And sexuality isn't something that concerns me too much. No, that's false. I'm interested in sex, and I'm very interested in how people come define themselves as sexual beings, but I'm not much concerned with knowing which team they bat for. So. It's good that I don't have a radar because it forces me to like people for other reasons? Something along those lines? (Can it really be that simple?)

But on the other, it's awkward to join a group of rugby girls and get hit on for a couple weeks and not realize it. Back when I started playing, I wondered about my coach for a few days when someone randomly mentioned her wife. And I was like, oh, that's simple, it really should have been obvious to me before. But then I started wondering about the other girls. And sometimes it became obvious because of their relationship history. So and so used to date her over there but she's bi now and they hate each other and those two right there have been dating for almost a year and the girl that's telling you all this, well she's the only other straight girl on the team (but hey guess what, she's bi now XD). I feel like life would be easier if I knew everyone's bunk buddy gender preference because then I could read their intentions a little better. Like are they being nice to me because I'm a new teammate, because they want to hook up with me or because they actually think I'm a cool person. (Probably a combination of the first two, most likely not the last one.)

And I'm completely ignoring transgender and those who have little interest in sex and a bunch of other categories and that's not necessarily cool either. But, and this might be a little rude, I feel like it's rather easy to identify a transgendered person. And someone who isn't interested, well can't a friendship develop just fine anyway?

I still feel like I should try and develop a gaydar. Not because it will be terribly important to have, but because I people watch enough that it would add to the accuracy of my statements. XD (Calm down, I'm mostly joking people!)

Dimples!

My best friend posted an adorable video blog about her disliking her hair and dimples. Now, I am no stranger to the concept of a love-hate relationship with my hair and don't even get me started on my pimples, but I love my dimples and I love my freckles and I am here to prove it.

J did this pose during her video blog. It's kinda goofy, right? But you see those dimples? That one true dimple right by my mouth? That outer line that looks like it's about to form a double chin? That weird one on the other side that comes straight from my nose?

Aren't they cool?! Aren't they weird and cute and adorable?! The correct answer is yes. Yes they are. Always and forever, dimples are awesome.

Question 6: Balance

It is required that every semester at my university education students do some sort of service learning. Usually these are in schools or after school programs, but what specifically you do varies with the location. Currently I help out a junior high teacher with her study hall. It's fun and what I do is always different.

Yesterday, I spent a lot of time trying to get a group of students to work on some worksheets, but it just wasn't happening. It makes sense - these were additional worksheets. That eliminated any intrinsic motivation for completing the worksheet, and the teacher provided no reward for doing them, offering no extrinsic motivation. It was a bad situation and quickly deteriorated into making jokes about jerking it and race (it was a diverse table and they were lighthearted). I had to remind them to watch their language and their volume and it was getting out of hand. I figured if I could control the conversation, I could control the language and volume and then we'd work on getting back to the worksheets.

So they started asking me questions, where I would be speaking the most. One tried to get me to guess what nationality he was (correctly answered Vietnamese, but at least a generation removed). He asked how could I know this when I just learned his name? Well, I grew up in SJ I told him. 50% Asian, I kind of had to know the differences. For example, I eliminated Korean and Japanese before he and I ever spoke based on the shape of his face. Someone said he wasn't Chinese, and that sold it for me. We moved from there to how I came to be in Missouri, how I picked my major and how I picked this school to service learn at. Then they started asking more personal questions.

It started out harmless. Two were surprised I was in college - they thought I was in high school. I told them to guess my age. After telling them my age, I told an anecdote about getting carded going into an R-rated movie earlier this year. When I said my 21st birthday was this weekend, one made a drinking gesture and I said, "Yeah, after this weekend, we'll see." "Legally." "Well...yes." The implication wasn't lost on any of them. It was the way I said well. I shouldn't have used it at all. It sparked this.

"Do you smoke?" "No, second hand smoke gives me headaches a lot so I haven't." "What about pot?" "I'd imagine that would do the same." "I've smoked it before." "I have friends who do." "REALLY?!" "Shhh, yes, but that doesn't mean they do so around me. They respect me and know that I don't approve." "You know it's not even that bad -" "You know that if I were an actual teacher I'd be required by law to report that to an administrator? Please don't talk about this more, you could get in real trouble." The table just stared at me. "But you're not going to report it now?" "I could, but no, I think that would be unfair given how our conversation had been going." I don't mention that I don't have anything to go on besides "So and so said he tried pot once," which might receive a talking to, but probably not.

The whole conversation had been interspersed with comments along the lines of "Omg, you're so cool," and now they just looked at me in awe. In their eyes I'm not a teacher; I'm a friend. I don't want this because it gives me no authority. I won't be able to effectively punish these kids for not doing their work now. I can't hand out punishments, that's reserved for real teachers. That's how it went down. I told one of the students to get a new worksheet b/c she had written nonsense all over her current one and she wouldn't do so. I eventually got so fed up, I brought her over to the teacher and the teacher made her finish the written over worksheet AND another one before the class was over. I had no intentions of making her finish the work, I just wanted to see a section done properly. But I couldn't even do that because the student saw me as a friend, not a teacher.

Looking back, I don't see much wrong with the things I said. I think it's appropriate to speak frankly with your students in secondary education and own up to what you have and haven't done. I think it's ignorant of you to assume they are going to be perfect kids. When I was their age I had been offered pot a few times and knew how to get it if I desired. I was ignorant regarding sex and drinking, but not enough to think it never occurred. If I pretend middle schoolers are too young to know about these things, I limit my ability to reach these students. If I pretend I didn't participate in these things, regardless my age, I harm my credibility as a person. What I did wrong is not establish myself as a teacher FIRST.

Every professor here talks about new teachers wanting to be friends with the students and be considered cool and the problems that creates. I'm not going to lie, it's nice being called cool, being asked to be their student teacher the rest of their time at the school. It's really flattering. But it's not effective. Even though I like the feeling I get, knowing these students trust me and see me as someone they can turn to, it doesn't outweigh the fact that I can't keep them as "in line" as I should be able to. It's tough finding this balance between relating and governing. I like democracy, but (at least in my experience) that isn't how effective classrooms are run.

But this is helping. Every semester I get more experience in the classroom and I know my shortcomings. I know it seems like failures are the only things I talk about in these education posts, but I don't mean it to seem that way. This is me realizing what needs to change, and I am changing them. Remember when I posted about how I needed to change how I dealt with students? I'm getting really good at it. Sure, I slip up, but that's this one group. Everyone else is under my thumb. Did I tell you all how I was having a conflict with a student? She wouldn't respect me, so I approached her on a day when we hadn't interacted so much and was like, "So I get that you don't like me, and that's chill, but I don't know why and I'd like to." And you know what? She listens to me now. It took two minutes and we corrected what was becoming a major problem. You guys, I'm getting it. I am doing well. I just know I can do better.

Ski Culture

I've wanted to write this post for so long, but just haven't found time. I guess I should be making time to write for myself, instead of for classes, but it gets so tedious toward the end of the semester.

I don't know how many of you have been to resorts on vacation, but I've kind of noticed two groups. There's those who go to do things and there are those who go to do nothing. There's also the locals. And in most places you can't easily tell who the locals are because they hide away in their secret hang outs, but at a ski resort, it's different. They wander around with the visitors. I love this mixing. I always feel like I'm halfway between a visitor and a local because I consciously know that the shops I'm going into, the restaurants I'm being dragged to by friends aren't places locals go, yet I go anyway. I sense the slight distain from the locals as I rush by with these friends, all dressed up, knowing but not caring that this isn't appropriate for where we're going. Sometimes I think I should make an effort to act more like a local because it's what I long to be, but I know it would come off as unauthentic.

This mixing just intrigues me so much! You can pass a lady in a knee length full fur coat heading to the fancy shops at the end of the street and then a snowboarder with neon clothing rushes the other way to get to the gondola for one last run and then the gals making your crepe have that dark tan on the lower half of their cheeks and you just know they've spent most of their days off on the slopes. That mixing doesn't happen elsewhere, I don't think. In other countries I feel like the locals are always pushing a sale on me. At beach resorts I feel like I'm being catered to too much. In a ski resort, you're just free to do whatever. Sure, go shop, buy stuff from us, we get paid either way. Sure, head up the mountain, ski all day, good luck finding our powder stashes. Sure, stay around the apartment, get drunk, go hot tubbing, it's what we do if we feel like doing nothing. That's what I feel like the locals are saying to us visitors. Sure, come enjoy this place with us. It's okay, you're welcome here.

There's just this calm, laid back attitude and then there's this unique fashion that would be silly anywhere else. Oh, the fashion!!! It's so much fun to watch the people and the way they dress. There's the people who have no clue what they're doing, wearing jeans and three sweatshirts or just everything borrowed on the slopes and there's the locals who have the bright neon clothing and sideways beanies and there's the old school skiers who are still rockin' the one piece suits and there's the random consmogleration of them all. And that's me. I dress like a toned down snowboarder but can ski double blacks all day long. It just makes me so happy to see people wandering around in their skate shoes and ski pants with an oversized hoodie, heading to a bar with friends. Just like I practically live in jeans and a t-shirt, it's regulation gear here.

Ahhhhhh!!!!! I just love everything about skiing. If I don't end up in a ski town for at least 5 years of my life, everything else had better be freaking fantastic or else I'm calling my life a wash. This is all making Colorado seem far more ideal than Seattle. Hm...

Question 5: Getting There

Now that I've changed my major, people keep asking me what I want to do. And I'm finding that answer is even more complicated than before.

See, I want to advise a high school newspaper and teach honors/AP courses. But the exact location is flexible. And the way to get there is undetermined. But you can't just say, "I want to run a high school newspaper and teach AP courses," because then the person asks, "How will you get to that point? That's not a job you can just walk into," and I'm obligated to explain.

So I graduate, right? And now I have a license that's valid in 8 states, none that I really want to be in. But I can teach there for 5 years, go back to school to get my master's, and then I'll be solid for teaching nationally. Or I can do Teach for America for two years and be solid to teach nationally (however, if I do this option, I still need to figure out how to get a master's before I teach for 5 years). And then I can get my butt to one of a few places. See, if I go to Seattle it's more going to be that I'm closer to being ready to have a family. If I'm not, I'll head to somewhere in Colorado or Truckee or hell, even Alaska and teach the little rippers how to write. And offer extra credit for beating me down the slopes. (No joke, I would do that. Wouldn't that be the most awesome teacher ever? It's like if you lived on Hawaii and your teacher said, hey catch a more awesome wave than me on this day and you get extra credit.)

Well that explains the location. Now how do I get the exact job I want? If there is an opening for a journalism teacher, obviously I'm going to jump on that. But chances are that won't happen. So I'll take an English teacher position, teaching regular 9th and 10th grade classes or electives. I'll involve myself in a club or something, offer to run the debate club...along those lines. I'll work my way up - start teaching honors courses, push the school to have AP classes and volunteer for the training to teach those courses. If I'm not at the school or district I want, I'll keep my eyes and ears open for opportunities, while making sure that none of the administration are aware by keeping good relationships with them.

It's really not that complicated, it's the same thing that any teacher goes through when getting where they want. I'm working with a teacher who is about to move his family to a suburb of Chicago so he can get his master's and possibly work at his old high school. It's not like he's exactly unhappy here - he's quite the celebrated teacher and the administration likes him and he is paid enough to live in the nicer neighborhoods. But this place isn't his goal and never was, so he's moving on.

It seems like the first ten years of my career will be spent getting to where I want to be. And by that point, I probably will be about ready to take a break from teaching to raise kids. And then the cycle starts all over. Find available job, get to school I want, start working toward the exact job I want. It's really no wonder most teachers leave the profession within 5 years.

Lifelong Friends

I don't get this whole finding friends in college thing. I really don't. This is where you're supposed to make all the friends you'll invite to your wedding, right? I've made one friend I am certain I will invite to my wedding. Just one. After almost 3 full years. So where's the whole bridal party that I'm supposedly going to find in college? My mom's bridesmaids were her closest sorority sisters. And one high school friend. My high school friends talk about their group of college friends like they'll be lifelong friends and all be in each other's weddings and be important to each other forever. Bleh. I detest even thinking about being invited to a wedding of one of my peers, let alone the logistics of one I'm involved in. So let's be clear. I'm not saying I need to be all 27 Dresses about a bridal party, but I really feel like I'm missing out on a majorly important college experience with the lifelong friend thing here.

Straight up, I have 4 friends I would die for. I can't say that yet for anyone I've met in college. I can't point to my group of friends in college and say, "These are people I will stick with my whole life." All my other close friends, including those 4, have a group they can say that for. I can't figure out what it is that I'm missing. I've done all the right things. I've been friends with all my roommates. I've joined clubs and done sports, but no friends really came from that. I have groups of people I talk to in each of my majors/minors. I have groups I party with. I know people. But I'm not amazingly close to any of them.

Maybe I've just already made my lifelong friends. The people I know will stick by my side my whole life are people I met in (or prior to) high school. I'm not quite there yet with any of my college friends. I feel like I should be, especially with a few of them. Maybe the issue is that I have high standards for close friends. I'm easy to get to know, easy to call a friend, but it's a whole different story if I call you a close friend. Once you're a close friend, a lifelong friend, I have all these expectations that we'll stay in touch and that I can call you up when shit goes down and that there won't be limits to what we talk about.

I don't mind that my college friends aren't my lifelong friends, but I do want some of them to be. I guess it just takes a lot of time for me to get to that point with people. That's okay, I suppose, it just makes me feel like there's something wrong with me that I'm not there yet. I love my college friends, but I want to make sure I don't forget about them after graduation. There's not really a way to ensure that though is there?

Only in College...

Can you come to an English class, reeking of alcohol and still have more intelligent things to say than most of the class. Oh, don't worry, not me. I'm just making an observation. I adore these humanities classes, and hate them at the same time. Mostly b/c the smell is making me wish it were Spring Break already. I swear it's some sort of fruity rum this guy was tossing back.

Well, that and the fact that I'm driving myself insane. You can always tell that something is wrong if I start cleaning. And I not only cleaned Milo's cage tonight, but my entire room and started doing crazy laundry and reorganizing my closet and some of the kitchen. Multiple tests in one week stinks. It's more than that, but I really don't feel like getting into it when I should be studying.

But! After my test it's just planning for Colorado! Which means hair cut, car wash, oil change, brake system flush, alignment check (which will be "Oh hey this part on your front axel is messed up. Let's fix it for a grand even though it drives straight and nothing is bowed out." So long as nothing's changed from that, we're good) annnnd new windshield wipers. I think that's it. I'll vacuum and add wiper fluid too. I suppose my care shouldn't be all about my car. I'll pack too. Gotta get the Wii together. XD

Oh, and hey ladies, on most cars you should be able to do everything but the alignment check yourself (and even that you can do an unofficial test - does it drive straight when you put your wheel straight?). I can't b/c my car is stupid and requires a special $40 tool from the company to change the oil and won't let you flush the brakes unless it's in the air. Retarded car, not letting me show off. But! See, there's these things that cars have called manuals and they have instructions on how to do everything including: change a tire, change oil, flush the brakes. You can change your headlights too! Or see how long it takes your dad to do it, get frustrated when he doesn't listen to you, take the bulb from him and do it yourself in 30 seconds. So don't be a man and read the instructions! It'll make you sexier.

Question 4: Burnt Out

My mom and I took a cruise to Alaska over the summer. It was a more formal cruising style and for dinner we were assigned dining partners. Our first dining partner was a 65+ retired man who spent his time travelling around the western hemisphere with various companions. I kid you not. The one this year (well, the last 2 years) was a 40-something home economics teacher from Texas. They were a hoot.

But this lady, goodness…she should not be allowed back into the classroom. She called her former students “gnats.” She told me I should never go into teaching, especially not high school. That I’d never change or impact these kids lives. I had to stop myself from laughing. I wanted to tell her that if she really thought that she never made an impact, positive or negative, on her student’s lives then she was surely delusional. During dinner, this woman got up to use the bathroom. My mom leaned over and whispered (not that she would have needed to, the man already had 2 bottles of wine so he wasn’t much occupied with us) that she was clearly burnt out and needed to get out of the school. She probably was impacting her students negatively. I shouldn't let her get to me.

Last week in my education preparation class we started talking about teachers and stress. How new teacher stress is different from normal teacher stress. How 40% of education grads will get a job and won't hold it for 3 years before leaving the field permanently. It's over 60% for after 5. And maybe it's that they changed career paths, maybe it's that they are now married with kids, maybe they died of being over-stressed. Regardless. They're gone from being a formal educator for good.

I'm concerned about becoming one of those statistics. I helped out one hour last Monday and then on an all day field trip and I thought to myself that I simply couldn't stand it. On Wednesday I felt ill, so I told my teacher I wouldn't be coming in. I probably could have, but I was so relieved to just have an excuse to not go in, even just for that hour. I actually did get worse as the day went on, so I ended up not going to volunteering later, but I had been dreading that since waking up in the morning. If there were any doubt in my mind about being a high school educator, this would have knocked the questions out of me. I can't deal with people who are younger than 14 for days on end. I simply can't deal with it. I'm not certain I'll be able to deal with 14 year olds every day, but hopefully I'll serve my time and then get the Honors track kiddos, or higher power willing, the college bound AP students.

So I'm starting to focus on how I can prevent burn out. They say it's because of a lot of stress, so you have to know how to balance your work life and your home life. Try not to bring grading home with you, get it all done at school. Go in early and stay late and deal with all your students' problems (b/c you're their awesome teacher, you have to be there for them 24/7), but don't let that flow into your home. It seems contradictory to me, so I'm ignoring that. I'm going to find an outside place to relieve stress. I'm also hoping to incorporate exercise into this.

I've been researching yoga studios in the city and there's a few different options. Unfortunately, yoga isn't exactly an inexpensive thing to pick up, so I'm starting with a few community classes on the weekends after break. We'll see where things go from there. This is kinda my only idea for stress relief so far. I'm trying to think of what I do when I get angry or need to get away. I go driving on random roads, I eat a lot of ice cream, I roller blade, I spend time with dogs. This semester it's been mostly the ice cream. I'd do the roller blading more if the trails around here were paved and not gravel. I can volunteer at the local humane society, but I need to get my future job in order. I know most of the roads around the city by now and, as I said, cutting back on the ice cream. So! Yoga! What do you guys think? Will I completely fail at this or will it actually do some good?

Kids of a certain age

B's comment was in passing, but it really struck me. I was talking about the field trip I helped out on earlier today and the behavior of the kids. He said he was so glad he'd never be that age again.

I agreed immediately, but after thinking about it I'm not so sure. So I started thinking about all the field trips I took in middle and early high school. All the notes I passed with J between classes. All the freaking epic 7th grade Core moments. All the crushes, some passing quicker than others, one lasting far far too long. Even though I am glad I'm not going to be that age again, there's certainly a nostalgia for it. And perhaps even a sense of missed experiences.

I feel like J and I should have documented our notes. I feel like I should have become closer to C sooner and started doing cartoon sketches with her. I feel like I should have gotten into DeviantArt more and explored photography and writing at the same time. I feel like I should have been bolder around guys at the race track. Good god, that would have caused mayhem. It's not that I regret not doing any of this, I just feel like that age is sort of incomplete. I wasn't the one to start a bus wide attempt to make truckers laugh. I wasn't the one to run around on a field trip with my friends, linking arms as we ran station to station.

It took a lot of control not to laugh when a kid made a joke with a swear word in it and instead shout out "Hey, language!" Maybe I'm not ready to be a teacher yet. I still relate to these kids too much, see too much of how I act when I'm around my closest friends in each of them. In one sense I hope two years changes that, but the general feeling is that I'm dreading that. I'm not ready to grow up. I'm not ready to leave "that age" behind. I never want to stop having fun with my friends without needing alcohol. I never want to forget what it's like to sit on cement and eat lunch outside. I never want to stop enjoying life the way I did when I was younger.

'Spress Yo'self!

"We but half express ourselves, and are ashamed of that divine idea which each of us represents." - Emerson, Self-Reliance

I suspect most of you have stumbled across that line before in a high school literature course. It seems to really sink in with me finally. I've been thinking a lot lately about how to express myself and dealing with general negative emotions, specifically anger and sadness. And then J has this bloody brilliant post about flying off the handle on someone and how her anger scared her. So I'm going to take time to take these thoughts that have been swirling in my head for half a year and put them down.

There's different stages to my anger. The first is just scratching the surface, and it's usually resolved in 5 minutes b/c I'll have calmed down and forgotten why I was angry in the first place. The second is if you actually irritate me. And when most people turn away from confrontation, I seek it out. I want to argue until things are worked out. I hate walking away from someone when I'm angry. We both know we're upset so why hide it? It seems cowardly and like you don't respect me enough to think we'll still be friends after this is resolved. Isn't the whole point for this to be resolved? So let's get to it, and fast. About halfway through arguing, I forget what we started arguing about. And about the same time I calm down and rationally think about what was said and come to some conclusion where we're no longer mad at each other and everything is good. Just don't breech that topic again for a week-ish. I'm fine with how I handle this. It's not a perfect way of getting angry, but it works for me.

But when I get really angry, that's when it gets bad. My anger has never scared me. Ever. But I'm not ignorant enough to believe it has never scared anyone else. It's not that I enjoy getting angry, but there is a certain thrill to it. You hit that point when you get so angry that you start to shake and maybe even cry and you don't know how to evaluate these emotions, how to understand them, quantify them, express them. My "super anger" needs to be expressed in some more effective way. It's not that I shouldn't express myself (Emerson would be so disappointed if I suggested that) nor am I ashamed of how my anger currently manifests itself. I just know it's not good! See, when I get really angry, I get aggressive. I flirt with being verbally abusive. I spew random hurtful insults just because I can. I turn into this irrational being with these huuuuge blinders that block any counterpoint, any attempt to find some middle ground. That's not...anything positive. At all.

So how do I address that this needs to change without changing who I am? It seems to me that I wouldn't be fully expressing myself then. I would be shamed into silence. I would be limiting myself. And that is more or less precisely what I am trying to avoid. I feel like I just need to stop being as much of a bitch when I get angry. I should just stop being petty when arguing and then everything would be okay. I haven't been really super angry in a while and don't plan on getting that angry any time soon, but I'll let you know how it goes.

I'm quite the opposite with sadness. I hide that away under lock and key. No one is allowed to know I'm sad. Recently, my boyfriend and I were cuddling (I know, cue the ewwws) and he randomly asked if I was okay. I said yeah, but truth is I was hit with a wave of sadness about 30 minutes earlier while doing homework. There was absolutely no reason for me to be sad and I'd managed to hide it thus far so why ruin a perfectly good snuggle session by saying that I was mildly sad without any idea as to why? But just like I dislike when people turn away from anger, I bet he at least somewhat dislikes that I didn't let him know I felt sad. So that's making me feel guilty and a bit sad, but hell will freeze over before I let on to that in person.

I don't know why I feel so differently about sadness than anger. If anything, I should think that anger should never be expressed because it was so severely punished when shown as a kid...and my parents never ever argued in front of my brother or I. But sadness was okay. Being sad was fine. I just stopped showing it somewhere along the line. Maybe it was a sort of backfire or rebellion to how I was brought up. I don't know. I don't know! I want to express these emotions honestly and freely, but without making a freaking scene. I feel like I've never expressed negative emotions in a good way. Ever. And it's about damn time I learn how to do that. We all gotta grow up sometime, right?

[insert Jaws theme here]

I grew up in a city that only had one national level sports team. I'm really not sure I would care had I not. But for as long as I can remember, I was taught to love hockey, love the Sharks, and hate the Ducks and the Flames. It's not like we were hurting for national level teams in the area. Two cities both about an hour north each had national baseball and football teams. The opposite sides of the bay were always in conflict with each other. But it seemed so far removed from the technology centered environment. How did the violent sport of hockey fit in any better then?

Somehow it worked. Even back in middle school drama class, when we were asked to portray a common occurrence without words, we sat down to watch a Sharks v. Kings game. And 90% of the class got it immediately. I can walk around campus during hockey season and I'll see someone with a shirt or keychain or hat of another team in our division and I'll high five them (or make some crack about they shouldn't bother trying to dethrone the team that's won the division so many years in a row, depending on the mood). It's like being a hockey fan is immediate membership to a secret club, and maybe that's what all the nerds loved about it. So hipster, liking something that's not cool. And it's considered foreign! Even better!

I'm not sure what it is exactly, but I have never bled the colors of any of my schools. It's always been teal and black. And now that it's getting to the last month of the season I am starting to hit my panic mode. It's not that the Sharks are doing poorly - they've actually quite turned it around since the mid-season slump. It's just what I do. This is when I start listening to every single game and start yelling at my computer and wearing my Sharks shirt on important game days. It doesn't quite fit with anything else I do, just like the Sharks themselves don't quite fit with anything else in their city. Yet a beloved part of the city they are, so yell I shall.