Foot in Mouth

Yesterday, we had a parent thing. They called it something like "TAKS Training Camp." It was meant to inform parents about how we prepare their kids for TAKS and what they can do to help us prepare their students.

I don't know if I've mentioned Mr. C before. He's our new 6th grade Assistant Principal. He's really cool. He's Mexican American, and he's a little different than the people we've had before, but he's not revolutionary.

When we first met with him, he, of course, did the obligatory speech to introduce himself and yadda yadda. I was taken back when he said our school's name. Most people never say it the way he does because the way he says it is with the Latino accent. He also referred to his daughter as "mi'jita." With that, I felt really comfortable around him and the feeling has only grown since.

So when he gave me the basket with door prizes and tickets, I replied, "Why me? What did I do?"

"I'd give the to Orozco, but he'd steal them. Es una rata." (He was kidding of course. We give Orozco a hard time.)

I was glad to have something to do. I felt useful standing by the door greeting parents and handing out tickets. Being in charge of this also meant I got to draw for prizes. Halfway through the presentation, Mr. C came up and told me to hold off on the door prizes for a bit because we didn't have enough to do one after every presentation. Since he whispered this to me, the coach didn't know we weren't doing a drawing before his presentation.

As coach walked up to the promethean board, he said, "Is there a door prize?"

The only words that came out of my mouth were, "Nope, you are the door prize."

As you can imagine in a room full of women, there was a lot of laughter and a lot of red on my part. Fortunately, he blew it off and continued. My colleagues who were standing around me couldn't stop laughing, and I'm sure I resembled a ripe tomato.

You'd think that'd be enough foot in mouth syndrome, but nope. Not for me, I'd have to shine the light on my a little more.

When our enlightening training was drawing to and end, I sauntered up to the front of the room with what I thought was the final prize, a $25 Wal Mart gift card. I allowed Mr. C to draw the last number, but he was confused. He'd put a card in his pocket thinking it was the one I had.

As I said before, foot in the mouth once a night is not good enough for me. When Mr. C said he had another one, I said, "Well how many did you hide? You got one under your hat?"

Everyone in the library cracked up.

All day today, the A-team (the administration) teased me about my foleys. I don't really mind it. I could have been written up.

Doing the Right Thing

I haven't been able to log into my account for the longest time. Anyway, here is a post I wanted to post a couple days ago. I have another post I've been working on too, but it's not ready yet.

Last week, or maybe the week before that (I get the past all mixed up these days), Mr. C walked into my class and told me that my name had been drawn for the ground breaking ceremony. (By the time the kids I have now are in 8th grade, we will be in a new building.) The principal has asked that we nominate people to attend, and I had nominated our team leader.

Last year, like me, she was a new teacher to the school. However, unlike me, she has been teaching for about ten years. So for her, it was a transition. She quickly caught on and began to create an environment that I was really comfortable with. She’d always check up on me when she hadn’t seen me making jokes or I’d been hiding in my room too much. This year, as team leader, she has done that and more. She makes our meeting useful and fun by keeping us on track and having some sort of door prize drawing.

So when Mr. C told me that she had drawn her name and how much she wanted to go, I knew what I had to do. I didn’t tell him immediately, but later during the day sent him an e-mail asking if she could take my place. At the end of the day, the principal sent out an e-mail naming the teachers that would be going to the ceremony.

She was confused since she’d drawn my name and neither Mr. C nor I had said anything to her. During d-hall duty, a lady walked in asking for a student, and I walked her to the office so that someone could page her daughter. When I walked in, Shelly was standing in Mr. C’s office. Upon seeing me, she said, “You didn’t have to do that!” and gave me a big bear hug. I knew right then, I had done the right thing.

Two Posts from Last Night

Post #1: "All Growed Up"

I had one of those moments today that let me know that I’m grown up, even though I feel as if I’m still only 21. It all started when I invited my mom, sister, and brother-in-law over for breakfast yesterday.

When Dan the Man’s alarm clock went off at 9:00 AM, I couldn’t go back to sleep because I kept thinking, “I have to peel the papas for the papas con chorizo. What a dumbass, I should have bought some pan or more chorizo last night. I should probably go get some orange juice and my mom’s lechita*.”

Finally, I got out of bed and started prepping for their arrival. I refried some refried canned beans, made the papas con chorizo, scrambled some eggs, made some coffee, and warmed up some tortillas. It was as I did all of the above that I realized that I’m all “growed-up.”

It was kind of nice. It made me think of the days when we’d go over to my oldest sister’s house. She always had, and has, something to offer us as does Gabi. I still have a ways to go, like we still need to get a real living room set, and a bigger place, like a house would be nice. But it’s still kind of cool that I can actually play host. It lets me put to use all the info I take in while watching the Food Network.
*My mom loves drinking her coffee with Hazelnut flavored creamer. She’s been known to carry around a small container with it to restaurants and her day care.

Post #2: Obligatory New Year's Post/Writing While Listening to John Mayer's Continuum

After the aforementioned breakfast, we sat around the living room reading the Saturday edition of the Sunday paper. I came across an article by Ellen DeGeneres about New Year’s resolutions titled “My no-fail guide to New Year’s resolutions (…and do-overs)” that made me think of the upcoming resolution frenzy.

One thing she advised is that “resolutions don’t always have to be about fixing what’s wrong with you. You can use them to celebrate what’s right with you. And, a lot of times, what you think is right with you is exactly the thing that is wrong with you. For example: People who love to be tan.”

Another bit of valuable advice is her recommendation for writing your resolutions. She recommends “writing the list in lemon juice on parchment paper, which makes it invisible to the naked eye unless you hold a candle behind it…[because] it makes you feel like a pirate.”

Although most of her advice is tongue-in-cheek, I think some of it valuable. So this year, I’m resolving to honestly work on my writing. My first step? I’m registering for a writing class.

I’ve filled out the registration form, written out the check, and stamped and sealed the envelope. It’s a fiction class offered to area teachers. There is a bit of a problem because first class takes place on January 27th, the same day as one of my staff developments, but I’ll find a way to make up the staff development. Last year, I was unable to do the memoir class because of the PDAS exam and study sessions. I promised myself that next time I would make it happen.

Other than that, I don’t think I’m going to make any other resolutions. Yes, I need to eat better and exercise, but that’s going to happen because my body is asking me to do it. It’s been giving me some funky signals. I also should probably resolve to be more organized and quit procrastinating, but honestly, that’s something I always work on. Sometimes, I do really well and other times I slack off. I’m also not going to resolve to be a better teacher because if I need to do this, I probably should not be teaching. When I signed the dotted line on my contract last May, I made this promise.

For the first time in a very long time, I’m actually looking forward to it. I’ll be spending the evening in the company of my beloved family laughing and sharing. I hope your New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day is great, and that 2007 brings you many blessings.

Cultural Experiences

Cultural Experience #1 Smashed Peanut Shells

A couple weeks ago, Dan the Man asked, “What’s one place you’ve wanted to go eat and haven’t?”

“Hmmm,” I replied. The truth is that we go out to eat often. Something about coming home to un-defrosted meat or having to stop by Kroger to pick up two or three things that dissuades me from cooking. I find myself second guessing my cooking skills wondering if it was me who used to cook all these wonderful things like lasagna, enchiladas, spaghetti, and gnocchi.

After some time, I finally answered with Texas Roadhouse. I thought back to the conversation at one of my co-worker’s wedding and remembered all the raving my friend Mari did about that place. Also, when I do cook, I try to stay away from steaks because I’m awesome at drying out a beautiful cut of meat for fear or salmonella or e-coli. So this suggestion excited Dan the Man.

After watching the massacre of a book on Sunday (see prior entry), we headed to the Texas Roadhouse. It was quite an experience. I can’t remember being at a place that has barrels of peanuts and allows you to throw the shells on the ground. I thought that was an Aggie thing, but apparently, it’s also a Pasadena thing.

“Does that bother you? Would that make you not come back?” asked Dan the Man.

“The peanut shells don’t bother me; I don’t like their food.”

The waitress was short with us. Dan the Man didn’t think so, but I felt rushed when I was placing my order. She also set down my tea refill to hard on the table, and I really didn’t like that she brought out my salad and held it in front of me until I moved the plate I was using for my appetizer. I guess I’m officially a restaurant snob.

Cultural Experience #2 Mi Tienda

Being on vacation allows for a lot of things like cleaning, shopping, watching Ellen, and cooking. The past couple of days, I have reacquainted myself with the kitchen. I didn’t cook Monday because we went shopping on the other side of town. Tuesday, I heated up some nacho cheese that I’d frozen a couple weeks ago. On Wednesday, I made some chili, and today, I didn’t really know what to make.

I was watching Ellen as I finished addressing our Christmas cards (yeah, I know they’re late) and was suddenly inspired when Selma Hayek showed Ellen how to prepare and eat a grasshopper taco. Although I would not eat grasshoppers, I do love me some tacos of any kind really. I’ve given up on the idea of carnitas because I haven’t found a place that sells decent carnitas tacos. Mexican food around these parts is strange to me. When I ask for a taco, I expect corn tortillas but always get flour. Once when I ordered a gordita at a Mexican restaurant, I got this thick tortilla cut all the way through with tons of greasy melted cheese.

Anyway, I decided that my goal for the day would be to make some yummy tacos with maybe some fajita meat. Since I had to go drop off the Christmas cards at the post office, I made my way to Mi Tienda. I tried to go to this store once before, but there was not a single empty parking space. This time, I had better luck.

It took forever to get through the parking lot though because there were so many people walking to and from cars. Getting into the store was also a challenge because there were people standing around looking at signs to the various produce that was at the entrance of the store.

I wound my way around the produce section, and the bachatas and cumbias playing on the intercom made me want to dance. As I walked through the store, there was young Latinas standing around helping people. There were also people handing out free samples for Cacique cheese, yogurt, tortillas, and various other items.

I don’t know that I would go back and shop there always, but it was fun. No one spoke Spanish to me in the store. They just assumed I was a “gringa” in the Latin grocery store. I let them believe it too. I guess it was just one of those days.

Why going to the movies with me is annoying...

I can't take the suspense.

We went to see Eragon today and I couldn't contain myself. Halfway through the movie I said, "I hate this! I'm going home!"

I didn't get up and leave, but I did fidget throughout the rest of the movie. I pulled on my hair and cursed at myself for not having read the book.

If they decide to make a movie out of Eldest, I'm definitely reading the book.

Pics

This is the hallway. Don't know if I mentioned before that we wrote the kid's names on the snowflakes. Also, can you tell what year this school was bult? Thank goodness we're getting a new building in a year or so.



Here is the showcase we worked on for almost a week. I think it turned out pretty nice, eventhough those damn snowflakes shocked me. It was my fault though. I was putting them up on a Friday afternoon and not thinking and I started stapling away while they were plugged in. Anyway, I couldn't get a full frontal shot because there was a wall in my way.

Books!

Christmas shopping has been rather tedious this year. Of course, there are some people that are very easy, like Dan the Man’s mom, my mom, and my nephews. But my teenaged nieces and one year old niece are really hard to shop for. So is my Secret Santa person. I hardly know this woman. When I drew her name, I thought of throwing it back in the bag and doing it again, but they came by in the middle of class. I quickly decided not to because I had too many witnesses.

When I was talking to my mom the other day, she said, “Jorge dijo que quiere libros para la niña.”

This was the best thing I’d heard all season. Books! Someone was actually asking for them. A gift that I would really enjoy buying.

“¿Deveras?

“Si, dijo que le gusta leerle a la niña. Pero que nomas tiene unos cuantos libros asi que se los lee muchas veces.”

Yesterday, I ventured out to buy books for Little G. Since shopping for all the others took about an hour or so, I figured that I’d be done in time to swing by the craft store to look for some stockings and still have time to get home and record the Razorback upset, I mean game, for Dan the Man.

However, once I did get to the bookstore, I realized I may not make it home in time. As usual, I was drawn to every table set up along the aisle. I must admit, I went to Barnes and Noble because it’s down the street and because I was getting an extra teacher’s discount. Anyway, I started off with a stack of paperback copies of the Bernstein Bears, but after much deliberation, I ended up with the following:

The Paper Bag Princess (teaching her about Feminism can never begin to early)
Five Little Monkeys (I remember discovering this book in kindergarten.)
Where the Wild Things Are (I never really read this book until today, but I know it’s a classic.)
Dora’s Book of Manners (Daniel sarcastically said that all Latinos have to like Dora which only got him a nasty glare from Bandit and I.)

My family doesn’t have many traditions, but it’s nice to see that my brother is trying to keep one alive. My mom always tried to show us the importance of literacy. Books were a treasure in our home. They were not to be written on or thrown. They were to be kept in a place where they would not get damaged.

All Things Winter

I’ve been sitting her with a blank document for a long time. I had the urge to write, and then, just like that, it was gone like snowflakes on El Paso pavement.

My life seems to have gone back to normalcy. It was good to go back to work even though I hate waking up early. I enjoy having time off, but I think I enjoy working a lot more.

I was very busy this week. My neighbor across the hall and I decided to take it upon ourselves to decorate the 6th grade hall. My mentor, who used to kick this off, is now teaching 7th grade and so she got their butts in gear instead of ours. Anywho, it took us the whole week to get lights strung all the way down the hall and tie snowflakes to the lights. We also redid the bulletin showcase with a winter theme. We’re not completely done. I’ve yet to make a sign that says “6th Grade Winter Wonderland,” seeing as how we have many JWs this year. I’ll take pictures once it’s all done and post them up here.

Bandit has become my new best friend. I think it’s due to the cold weather. Instead of hiding under the couch or in the corner under the bookshelf until Dan the Man gets home, he now cuddles up next to me where ever I happen to be. I imagine that once it starts to warm up around here, he’ll go back to his old ways.

There is a flurry of thoughts going on in my mind, but I can’t seem to get out in a coherent manner. I think I just need to stop listening to John Mayer. I forgot what his music does to me.

Melancolia

I don’t know how people do it, the people that are far away from their families. It’s difficult. Pictures and phone calls can only take you so far. I sit here on the eve before Thanksgiving with a heavy heart. While I know the reason for her not coming is legit, understandable, and is just the thing a selfless person like her would do, it still saddens me.

I was really looking forward to this Thanksgiving because not only would I have my sister and her hubby over for dinner, I would also have a very special guest: my mom.

I was beside myself since she gave me the news. I went out and bought her craft things like ribbons and flowers and little red bows that could come in handy. We bought her some Mickey Mouse window clings.

I wrapped up the presents I bought her for Christmas, so she could see that despite being on the other side of this gigantic state, she’s still important. Only to find out last night, she’s not coming. I know that she’s needed there now, but I can’t help feeling the sucker punch to the gut and think “why do I have to pay for their mistakes?”

I’m very thankful to still have her around. I’m not thankful to having her so far away.

The Case of the Missing Turkey

This year has allowed me to get to know my colleagues a lot better and has forced me to re-examine prior notions about a few of them. It has not, however, made me change my mind about Marla. We’ve always been cool. We’re very similar in many ways, and best of all, we can read it each other really well. This of course, lends itself to other types of interactions like sharing secrets, being there for each other when we need to vent, and playing jokes on one another.

This is why, when I came back to work on Thursday, after being gone for a training on Wednesday, there was a slight chance that she was the one that’d taken my Gil, and left in his place a letter that read:

Help! I think they’re going to put me in an oven. I hiding in a closet. Wait, I
think I hear somebody coming…oh no! Hurry!

Now, upon reading this, I examined the handwriting and thought of possible suspects; but quickly dismissed those possibilities because I knew they wouldn’t make such a glaring subject verb agreement. I was really blaming it on one of the math teachers, but not Marla. This teacher would always saunter by and call me “Ms. Peacock.”

The day went on; I had to teach class and could not take time out to look for my poor Gil. I told my first class about the turkeynapping and they, like me, automatically accused all of the people on the sixth grade team. They told me they’d keep an eye out for him.

Homeroom time came around. Although these kids can drive me nuts with their talking sometimes, I love them and they love me. Thursday, it was crystal.

“Ms. What happened to your turkey?”

“It’s gone.”

“Gone? What do you mean?”

“Someone kidnapped him and left this in his place,” I said as I held the note before them.

“What! How could they do that?”

“I bet you it was Ms. B!”

“No, I think I saw it in Mr. O’s class.”

“It was Mr. C and Mr. A because they were begging us to buy them feathers yesterday!”

“Well, whoever it was, I think I need to make some posters so people know I’m looking for him.”

“We’ll help you Ms!”

Within five minutes, I had a slew of “Missing Turkey” flyers and a crew of kids putting up posters in the hallway.

During lunch, I continued giving everyone a hard time. Calling them all “turkey snatchers,” and saying, “It’s okay; I’ve got a lot of little detectives on my side.”

The science wing people hadn’t heard and so they asked what was going on. As I told them, Marla asked, “Well, what did the notes say?”

“Notes? You mean there’s more? How do you know? It was you, wasn’t it?”

I don’t remember her reply, but I know her answer didn’t satisfy me.

As we were walking to the cafeteria to report for after lunch duty, I found a note in my mailbox. This one read:

Help me! It’s getting really hot in here. I heard them talking about stuffing
me…please find me!

We walked into the cafeteria to find Mr. A, the counselor, holding up
one of the signs my kids had made telling the 6th grade diners about my turkey. As I walked
around the cafeteria, the kids were all calling my name and telling me who they
thought had taken Gil.

The rest of the day, assistant principals,
teachers, students, even the aides asked if I’d found Gil. And of course, I
always had to say no. I was starting to wonder if I would ever get him back. I
was so proud of how big his tail had gotten and I really wanted to get him
laminated.

At the end of the day, we were having a bridal shower for one
of the ladies on our team. Most of my day had been spent on preparations for
this event, but we couldn’t really put any of this up because our classes were
going to the library which is where we were hosting the shower. When the final bell of
the day rang, I rushed down to the library to finish setting up.

It wasn't until we had everything set up, that I remembered I’d left the napkins in my
classroom. I ran up the stairs and found one my students, who is also a Watt
Watcher for Student Council, writing on the “missing turkey poster” posted on my
door. (She’s the sweetest kid too. My pick for student of the month)

“Ms! It was Ms. B and Mr. O! There’s Gil!” she said as she
pointed toward my first suspect’s classroom.

Indeed, there he was.
Hanging from Mrs. H’s flag outside her door. Mrs H. looked at me and said, “I
saw them do it but I was sworn not to tell you! I was so upset! By the way, I
should be looking shocked.”

I carefully pulled down Gil and took him to
my classroom and laid him on my desk. At last, he was safe and sound.

Feathers

Every year around Thanksgiving at school, a copy of a clip art turkey is given to each teacher. Teachers are then to color their turkey and post it on their door. During lunch, teachers and students can buy construction board feathers with “thank you” messages for teachers and students.

Monday should have been the first day that feathers were sold but because of some beauracracy flaw, they were not sold until today.

When I went to my inbox in the mailroom during my afternoon conference period, the NJHS sponsor was putting them in our boxes. We both had to be in a meeting in a few minutes, so I asked her if she needed help. “No, I’ve got them all sorted. I just need to put them in people’s boxes. You have a whole bunch.”

Of course, hearing that last part peaked my interest; so I dilly dallied around for a while in the potty room. When I came, I went to my box; and I did have a “whole bunch.” I didn’t really count them, but I had close to fifteen feathers.

Needless to say, my students made me the envy of the sixth grade team at our meeting. They joked around about how I probably bribed my kids like a former teacher at our school and how my well-feathered turkey was going to put theirs to shame.

My students’ messages were so sweet. My favorite thus far was “you are the best teacher I’ve had in all my living years.”

Coño

Thanks to the wonderful downpour and our school district being so adamant about giving our kids the best education possible, Dori, my little car, is sick.

When school let out, I went over to find out if we were staying for the Promethean board training and I heard people saying, “they said to go!” I felt frantic and grabbed my stuff and ventured out into the streams, er streets. All I wanted was to get home. I tried two streets and finally got out of the area where the school is. I would have made it home had it not been for that damn school bus that stopped. When it did, all of the water it had been pushing out of the way for me, came back onto and into my car.

I took it into the dealer and now I’m waiting to see how much my stupidity is going to cost.

Penny Cup

Reading El Chavo’s post made me reminisce about my youth. There was this one time that my mom and I had walked to El Bronco, a swapmarket, a couple of miles from where we lived. When we left, we were thirsty and hungry; so we decided to stop at the Good Times (a convenience store) to get a drink and a snack. They had some kind of deal that you could buy a drink and a hot dog for like $1.99 or something.

When the cashier rang up the total, my mom was two cents shy. The cashier was this tall guy who’d had part of his face burned, so the skin was shiny and waxy. He was always rude and never bothered making conversation like the other cashiers. On that particular day, he did a thing that would stay with me and forever place him under the jerk file in my mind. Because that day, despite there being a penny cup like the one in El Chavo’s post, he didn’t allow my mom to take the two cents she needed to complete the total. He made her give back the hot dogs and pay for the drinks.

I felt humiliated. I don’t believe there was anyone else in the store, but I know it made my mom feel really bad. Like many people, I’ve never been in the business of letting anyone humiliate or put down my mom. She got enough of that at home and at work. Why should anyone else do that to her?

For this reason, once, I was at Wal-Mart and there was this kid ahead of me buying car parts. Apparently, his car had left him stranded and he was trying to fix it enough to get home. When the cashier rang up his total, he was a short like a couple of cents, so I unzipped my wallet and gave him the money. He said thank you about ten times before he left. I thought it was no big deal, but I guess if someone had done that for my mom at the Good Times, I would have done the same.

What it takes to be a life-long reader...

Accessability to books, any and all books. According to the speaker at the workshop mentioned in my former post, kids need to be exposed to all types of literature, even bad literature. Once they click with a piece of literature, they will be more likely to venture into a bookstore or library to look for more books of a similar nature.

I’ve bared witness to such experiences. I’m asked for a Gloria Velasquez title at least once a day. It’s really an amazing thing.

Speaking of literature, Arte Público Press is in need of some help, monetary help. They have until December to raise $250,000. Why this much by then? Because the Brown Foundation, who we all know is awesome, will match dollar for dollar donations up to that amount.

Those of you familiar with the press, you know what awesome work they do. I know they bring lots of joy to my life and the lives of my students. And those of you not aware please check out their website and donate. It doesn’t have to be a substantial amount, anything will help.

If you still come around, finally, an update!

It’s incredible how priorities shift in our lives. When I started writing here, I was really full of myself. A cocky, thinks she knows it all, college senior.

These days, I’m still cocky in many ways, but I also know that there are things that take precedence over my ramblings. Besides, the kids fulfill the diva in me by greeting me any chance they get, especially when it’s ones I never had as students, but have heard about me from someone. It is for this reason that I have not updated. For now, all the things in my life are either all about work or my personal life that well, is sort of a train wreck at times.

In any case, I still wish to share about my professional life seeing as how I’ve been presented with some delectable new opportunities.

My Latina empowerment group will meet for the first time this coming Friday. I have yet to put together the first day materials, although I do have an idea. I’m rather excited about the whole thing. I met with the girls that helped out with last year’s and will help out this year. I received an e-mail from one of them that basically fed my barril sin fondo ego.

This Pre-Ap/GT teaching is great. However, I’ve managed to turn it into this huge discussion that my selves have with each other. The question that haunts me on a daily basis is “Why can’t ‘regular’ ed do all of this?” And honestly, I haven’t really found an answer on why they can’t. I have not delved into the whole annotated essay topic with my “regular ed” classes yet, but we’ll be going there.

Also, I just got home from this training that talked about producing life-long readers and my head is spinning. It even hurts a little because the tiny mouse in on overdrive. Sometimes, I feel so frustrated because there are so many things that I want to do, but I don’t have the time.

The other project in the making is seeking permission to put on a play at school. We were talking about it yesterday at the baseball game, and we came up with ghost stories. I’m standing firm on La Llorona. I would probably have to write the script, but I know it would be successful.

Other duties that are taking up time are mentoring, 6th grade team secretary, and student council co-sponsor. Sometimes it feels overwhelming, but if it helps me become a bigger superstah, count me in.

* * *

The new apartment is great. Thanks for all your good wishes.

We were forced to fully settle in last week when Daniel’s parents announced their visit right before they left Dallas.

My mom had surgery last week. She had a pace maker installed. It caused me to be antsy the entire day making it impossible to get any work done. I spoke to her yesterday, and she sounded like a brand new mom.

Lastly, I’ve become a social butterfly at school. I’ve gotten to know many of the teachers on Lesson Plan Friday after School “Coffee” Meetings. I’ve heard many stories and drunken philosophizing and have been dished much advice that has caused me to feel that perhaps fall will bring many changes in my little world. For better or worse, I know that I won’t be able to stop it.

I’ve been reading journals/blogs, just haven’t been commenting. I’ll come back around sometimes in October or November when routines start to set in.

New Undertakings

Howdy. Sorry for the lack of updates, I’ve been busy. I’m so behind on my journal reading too. I’m hoping that perhaps I can catch up on Monday, since there is no school.

Dan the Man and I are finally moving out of our current hell hole. Tomorrow is the big moving day. I entrusted my young scholars with a substitute. This year will be somewhat difficult because I’m going to be attending tons of trainings during school hours, so I will have to entrust my classes to a sub. I’m not ecstatic about it, but I have no other choice.

Things are going great at la escuelita. I was under the weather the first part of this week, but my body managed to get past it after lunch yesterday. I still have the stuffed up nose and funky voice, but the fever and sore throat is gone.

Yesterday, I was asked if I wanted to head a program for young Latinas whose focus is on building self-esteem among other things. Of course, I said yes. I’m so excited. I can’t wait to get started.

Well, I’m cutting this off now because I have more to pack.

Adios MTVR

Today, I spent a couple hours with my friend in her almost desolate apartment. As it always happens, when one is moving, there were the small things scattered here and there: a stack of copies for one of the many papers a grad student must write, ashtrays, couch cushions, and knick knacks she doesn’t need and can’t take anyway.

I helped her clean out a closet. She gave me a bookshelf and a printer. We blindly dumped boxes of papers into the trash bins and dropped off two suitcases full of clothes and other reusable items at a donation center.

It all seemed so odd. I’d known this day was coming for almost a year now, but now that it’s here, it’s weird. I can only imagine how she feels. Although I’m sad that my friend will be moving across the Atlantic, I’m happy she’s going. I think back to how I felt when Dan the Man was finally moving to Houston; and I can still remember the excitment. For almost two years now, she and her Nalgarito had been wishing for this day, and it’s finally here.

Te deseo todo lo mejor Carnala. Nos volveremos a ver muy pronto.

Sueños

Writing has been a rather erratic process lately. I do it when I get time or want to procrastinate something else. Today, I’m procrastinating the big stack of papers of I’m supposed to grade today; hence two entries.

I’ve had disturbing dreams the last today. When ever I tell my mom about stuff like this, she always asks what I ate before I went to bed. Then she makes some kind of remark about Jesus or God watching out for us so that nothing bad happens, since bad dreams can be an omen.

To be honest, I’ve just been thinking too much. Friday night, I went out with the fellow teachers for a couple of beers. Somehow, we ended up talking about dads. Of course, it got me thinking about mine. Then it got me thinking about Dan the Man’s dad. He’s always really nice to me. All of his family treat me like I’m family, especially his dad. Anyway, all these thoughts provoked a dream about his death. In the dream, Dan the Man and I were in Houston because I had a kid (first weird thing). His mom called him to tell him that Dan Sr. had died. He’d been sick in the hospital and had refused treatment.

Yesterday, I was thinking a lot about the Juárez murders. I was wondering if this time they did catch the right guy, what’s going to happen, and will we get more information soon. Not to mention, I watched half of Pirates of the Caribbean before I went to bed. While sleeping, I dreamt about being in a church where people were being kidnapped during church services. I don’t really know why I was there; it wasn’t because of the mass. I think I may have been there to help figure out what was happening or something. Anyway, I was there with my sister and during the mass, she was kidnapped. It was done in a split second. I remember feeling the wish of the air and turning to see her place empty. I immediately stood up and started wanting to curse and screaming for my sister. I made it my personal goal to find the kidnapper. After what seemed like months, I found him. I cornered him somehow and made him take me to my sister. When we arrived at his house, there was a little girl in an inflatable pool with no water. The name “Teresita” was written on the pool. It was at this point that I woke up.

I hate when my dreams are not resolved. I tried going back to sleep, but the dreams never come back to me. Maybe tonight I’ll have better luck.

School News

It’s only the end of the first full week of school, and I already know who can give me trouble. Actually, I knew that by the end of last Friday. The little sister of one of my former students said, “Oh, you have him, he’s big trouble” as she scanned the list of names on my hall pass one afternoon. Later that week, when another of my former students stopped by to ask how my new batch of sixth graders were behaving, the kid passed by and I said, “they’re great, especially that one.” The kid smiled at me. He’s been on his best behavior in my class.

I’m completely sold on this humanitarian way of teaching. I’m trying to build relationships with my students, so that I’m not just their English teacher. I shake hands as they come in, I smile even when I’ve had a headache the entire day and all I want is to shut the door, turn out the lights, and chill. Within the first three days of school, I memorized all of their names and encouraged them to test me. And you know what? It’s paying off, because when the day is over, and the halls are clear, I remember all the good things and smile. It makes me want to go back to work the next day and I wouldn’t trade that feeling for anything n the world.

And this GT/Pre-AP thing rocks. Class moves along so much faster. When anyone asks me how it’s going and I say great, they all say, “I knew you would love it.” But honestly, all in all, this bunch of kiddos seems like a great bunch. They’re so sweet and really just care about school.

I demand justice

Amidst the World Cup and Presidential Election debate, Mexico has dropped a causa that is very near and dear to me. It’s pretty pathetic that people’s last hope is Hollywood. Please, if you have not, sign the petition.