Can you believe this?

Spousal rape was legal until the end of the 1970s. How messed up is that? And who the heck rapes their wife/husband, anyway?

Pluto officially demoted

So, I'm sure by now everyone's heard that Pluto's been demoted to "dwarf planet" status rather than full-fledged planet. My thoughts-- why not? Pluto's only been a planet since 1930, so it's not like we're undoing years of history or anything. Plus, I think changing Pluto's planetary status helps to make the important point that our definitions of things are not set in stone-- they change and evolve over time, as should the ways in which we think about our world. Maybe my head's just spinning with everything that we've been discussing in my education class, but I think it's relevant to this issue.

Back to the books

After one year away from school, here I am, back in the classroom. Yup, I just couldn't get enough of reading and doing homework...no, I'm being serious (well, kind of). I can't believe in another year I'll be a teacher! I'm of course excited to plan lessons and organize a classroom, but, and I'm being perfectly honest here, one of the things I'm most looking forward to is my "career wardrobe." Now, and my mom can totally vouch for this, ever since I was a kid, I've always wanted to wear businesswoman clothes. I think they appeal to me because of the power and prestige associated with them, but I've had a thing for tailored blazers, crisp button-down shirts, and classy pants suits since I was really little. I know teachers aren't necessarily required or expected to be decked out in full business regalia, but as soon as I have a job next year I'm going on a major shopping spree: we're talking classic pumps, pencil skirts, cardigans, the works-- and of course, the wardrobe piece I'm most excited for: the blazer. Not a frumpy, masculine jacket with boxy shoulders, but a slim, fitted one. I can't wait. I might even wear my hair in a bun, just to complete the look.

My last day at work

My last official day at work was Friday, so now I'm no longer a working-class daycare employee. It was so funny trying to explain to the kids that I'm going back to school and am not going to be their teacher anymore. They just looked at me with big blank smiles on their faces and chirped, "Bye!". Honestly, I don't know what I was expecting from two-year-olds...I guess I envisioned a very sentimental goodbye-- a prolonged hug, a misty-eyed farewell-- something more emotional. But of course, it's probably best for the kids if they don't even really understand that I'm not coming back. I think goodbyes are so awkward. I hate the finality of them, and the pressure to say everything that you're thinking and feeling at that moment. It's just too uncomfortable. There are too many mixed feelings involved with goodbyes to actually attempt to verbalize everything. But, my aversion for farewells aside, I'm gonna miss those kids too damn much.

9-11 (the phone number, not the date)

So today I made my first 9-11 call. Here's the story: At the daycare I work at, we take the kids on daily walks through the city (to Pioneer Square, Pike Place Market, the waterfront, etc.). We use a long rope that the kids hold onto as they walk so we're able to keep track of them as well as keep them safe. Well, today we decided to head over to the stadiums for our morning walk. I was leading the rope, followed by 12 toddlers and one of my co-teachers. My other co-teacher was walking alongside the kids. Often times we have to stop while we're walking to remind the children not to touch anything, pick up weird crap off the ground, hit each other, etc. I felt a slight pull on the rope and turned to see what was going on. I noticed that it looked like Logan's coat was caught on a water pipe coming out of the wall. I leaned forward to help him and realized that he'd put his hand inside the pipe! He started crying and saying, "Ow, ow, ow!". One of my co-teachers knelt down to help him, but said that she couldn't get his hand out. At that point my mind was instanteously flooded with the worst possible scenarios, and I couldn't help but envision his little finger turning purple and falling off, or some jagged piece of rusty metal slicing into his hand. I was about to give it a try and my co-teacher said, "No, don't pull it!". At that moment a woman approached us and asked if we needed help. She worked inside the modern bath fixture store that we were stopped in front of and returned with a bottle of lotion and some q-tips, but I had already grabbed our cell phone and called 9-11. After attempting to explain the ridiculous situation to the 9-11 operator, my co-teachers and the woman managed to get Logan's hand unstuck, so they didn't end up sending anyone over. Logan escaped for the most part unscathed, with the exception of a little bruise and a scratch on one of his fingers. I'm just thankful that (1) Logan was OK, and (2) I was able to somehow channel my mom (who'd be the only person not panicking if a meteor blew up half the earth) and remain pretty calm. And I'm guess I should also be pretty grateful that my phone call to 9-11 wasn't triggered by some bloody, guts-oozing out life-threatening situation. Then I would have panicked.

Quitting my job

It's hard to believe that this is my last week at work...of course, I've got pretty mixed feelings about everything. I'm happy to be starting a new chapter in my life and I'm really looking forward to school, but I'm going to miss all the kids so much. It's sad to think that I'm such an important part of their lives now, but in a few months they'll barely even remember me...but I guess that's a lot of what working with kids is all about-- making a difference in their lives and knowing that you were responsible for it, whether they remember or not. And not to be too corny or anything, but that's enough to make me happy.

Parallel Parking

Yesterday I not only got an amazing parking spot right in front of my apartment building, but I managed to parallel park my car on the first try-- and I'm talking solid, driver's ed-style- promotional-video parallel parking. The speed, the angle, the distance from the curb; it was amazing. Words can't even describe the feeling of satisfaction I felt upon achieving unparalleled perfection (forgive the pun). I think that parking job was just the boost of confidence that I've been craving all week. But hey, you gotta take it where you can get it, right?

My near-death experience (and another embarrassing moment)

My friend Cassie and I went for a walk on Broadway today to go explore our new neighborhood. As we were walking down the sidewalk, I was checking out the restaurants along the street when all of a sudden my foot tripped on a dip in the sidewalk and I went plunging headfirst toward a metal chain and a table and chairs. It was absolutely terrifying, and probably the most entertaining sight that all 25 people who were either eating at the restaurant or walking down the sidewalk saw this afternoon. I never felt so unable to catch my balance before; it was truly scary. But I'm not gonna lie, it was also completely hilarious.

And here's another kind of embarrassing moment: Cassie and I were leaving Safeco Field yesterday and heading down the street when we passed by a slightly intoxicated group of young men. One of them looked at me and shouted, "Who wears short shorts? You do!" and pointed directly at me. It wasn't necessarily an insult, but it wasn't a compliment either. And I certainly was not trying to draw attention to my legs (which obviously are not that special). And I swear my shorts aren't that short. I just have kind of a big butt, so I guess that makes them ride up a little higher. But now I feel kind of inappropriate, so I don't know if I should wear shorts anymore.

Sleeping, eating, running

So right now I'm finishing up week 3 of my 8-week intermediate 5K running plan. This week I'm supposed to do a test-run 5K, so I'm hoping to notice some results in my speed-- hopefully I'll have shaved some seconds off my mile time. Switching to morning runs has really helped encourage me to stick to my plan. Even though waking up a little earlier during the week kind of sucks, I just feel so much better if I run first thing and then have the rest of my day to relax or do whatever. But I do miss my outdoor runs at Greenlake, so I'll definitely have to go explore Volunteer Park and see if there are some trails there to run on.

An unauthorized hole

Last night, as I was getting into bed, I somehow managed to rip a hole right in the crotch of my pajamas. I'm still not entirely sure how it happened, or what it means...

The challenges of being 4...

Here's an incident that occurred yesterday between two of the pre-schoolers at my daycare...

Me: What happened, Gavin?

Gavin: (crying and sobbing so hard he can barely talk) Connor told me that silver dollars aren't really *sob* silver!

If only my tears were reduced to such simplicity!

My new pad

Cassie and I have officially moved into our new apartment! Renting a U-Haul and moving all my crap is something that I hope to God I never have to do again. My arms are still killing me from all the heavy lifting-- I still can't believe how Nick and I managed to move my treadmill down three flights of stairs by ourselves. I think it was sheer willpower (well, on my part at least-- on Nick's it was probably actual strength). And of course, the move would not have been possible without the help of some very key players: Nick, Cassie, Cassie's dad, and my mom (who made a surprise plate appearance in the bottom of the seventh). Thank you all so much! I'm eternally indebted to you guys.

What I've learned from being an adult

It's still so hard to believe that in a month I'll officially be back in school. I'm really excited since I've missed school a lot this year, which I know sounds kind of lame and hypocritical, especially considering that the whole time I was in school I couldn't wait to be done and get out into the "real world." But what I've learned about the real world is that it's not all it's cracked up to be. Working 40 hours a week actually pretty much sucks. No matter what, there's just not enough time in the day to do stuff, and it's especially difficult trying to find time to hang out with friends. My social anxieties and extreme introversion only compound the problem. When you require a certain amount of alone time each day (my specific formula is for every one hour I spend with people, I need two hours to "recharge" by myself), you don't necessarily feel like hanging out when you get home from work. Typically I get home around 6:30 every day. Say I decide to go out to dinner and a movie with friends, and I end up getting back to my apartment around 10:00. I've just spent three and a half hours hanging out. Using my formula, that means I require SEVEN hours of being alone in order to recharge-- and no, sleeping doesn't count. So if I want to maintain my sanity, I'd have to go to bed at 5:00 in the morning!! It's true, sometimes I can cut back on my alone time and be OK. But then I run the risk of hibernation, in which I am forced to hole myself up for days, sometimes even weeks (though unfortunately this is often not possible), without hanging out with anyone. And then, and only then, can I successfully re-enter the realm of humanity without having completely snapped. And to all my friends, thanks for putting up with me and all of my neuroticism-- I don't know why you guys put up with me, but I'm definitely grateful that you do.

Moving

Any way you cut it, moving's a bitch. Packing and unpacking are a pain, and of course the worst part is making countless trips back and forth and up and down multiple staircases, trying to load up your car or truck or whatever. What could possibly make this process even more unbearable? 90+ degrees of sweltering, cloudless, sweaty Pacific northwest heat beating down on you at all hours of the day-- of course, I really shouldn't be complaining yet-- right now all I'm doing is packing in this nauseating heat. I can't even fathom actually attempting to physically move boxes...the forecast says it's supposed to drop to the low seventies by next weekend, so I'll keep my fingers crossed-- otherwise I truly might not make it.

Obsessions

The problem with me (well, maybe I should re-phrase: one of the problems with me) is that I get completely obsessed with things-- not necessarily in a creepy, psychotic way, but in an "all-consuming" sense. I guess the thing is that once I get really into something, whether it be running or moving to my new apartment, I honestly find it extremely difficult to think about anything else. I think of my obsessions as being almost akin to a state of mania, in which I'm basically on a manic high during these times. I think that I actually exhibit manic symptoms when I'm so consumed: difficulty with eating and sleeping, a feeling of invicibility, etc. (Of course, I experience these symptoms to a much lesser degree than someone who actually suffers from bipolar disorder-- at least I hope I do!). But I'd be willing to bet a fair amount of money that a CT scan of my brain would corroborate the assertion that my obsessiveness produces manic-like symptoms. Looking on the bright side of my exhausting states of complete obsession, at least I'm more productive than usual!

The Race

Well, I ran the 5K yesterday and didn't quite meet my goal of under 25 minutes. I ran it in 25:31, so I was close. I did, however, manage to knock 16 seconds off my pace time from my previous race in May. My mom and I are planning on running the IronGirl in September, so that gives me exactly 8 weeks to train for my next race. I found this "Intermediate 5K Training" plan online, and I decided that's what I'm going to do. As long as moving to a new apartment doesn't screw up my schedule and knock me off balance like it did at the end of last summer. But I don't think I'll let that happen again this time (at least I hope I'm smart enough to learn from my past mistakes). Running = happiness, and if I truly want to be happy I'll have to figure out a way to fit it into my schedule, no matter how busy I am. Plus, what it really boils down to is that I'm just too damn competitive to settle for anything less than the best.

Another race

Tomorrow I'm running another 5K. The last race I did I averaged 8:30 miles, so I'm hoping to knock off at least 30 seconds a mile for this one, especially if the course is flat (which I really hope it is, especially since I've been a little lax about my incline workouts). So my goal is under 25 minutes...and by the end of this summer I hope I'm back to last year's race times (which unfortunately might not happen until I lose my 10 pounds of extra "muscle").

Got pride? Apparently not some people.

On my way home from karate tonight I saw a couple standing on a street corner with a sign that read, "Just married w/ baby on the way. Need money to keep our hotel. God bless you." Hmmm, looks like you should've thought of that before you had a shotgun wedding and got yourselves knocked up. Sorry if it sounds harsh, but I find it incredibly insulting when people are standing on the street begging for things. Don't these people have any self-respect? I wouldn't care how poor or desperate I was, I would seriously rather do the most thankless, menial servitude on earth than sacrifice my pride and dignity by pathetically standing on a street corner trying to guilt people into giving me their hard-earned money.

All-Star Game

Surprise, surprise, the AL won AGAIN, making them unbeatable for the past ten years. Ichiro had his first All-Star strike-out and went 0-3, but the AL still came out on top. At least the NL kind of acted like they considered winning for awhile...

Where's the punchline?

Maybe my expectations are too high for popsicle jokes, but I'm pretty sure this doesn't even classify as a joke:

Q: What did the bug say when someone stepped on him?

A: Nothing-- bugs can't talk!

Huh?! I ate my popsicle at top speed only to reveal this lame excuse for a joke? I want my money back...