Blog o' Boredom

First of all, let me just apologize for two things: 1. My obscene lack of posts as of late, and, 2. My excruciatingly boring posts. What happened to the clever, witty, gut-wrenchingly hilarious anecdotes and editorials, you may ask? Apparently the advent of school has unforgivingly soaked up every last ounce of creative juices flowing within me, leaving me dry and...well, kind of blah. OK, you want the truth? Well, here it is: 'Veronica Mars' has me totally and completely hooked. I am absolutely consumed by the show, and I block out three hours a day to watch 4-episode discs, and then when I'm in class, I sit and daydream about all the possibilities...OK, mostly I just think about Veronica and Logan and how I want them to hook up again. I'm halfway through season two, so don't give me any spoilers if you've got the inside scoop. I can't wait until I'm completely caught up with the show, so then I can check out all the fan sites. I've been avoiding them right now because I don't want to accidentally come across any secrets that haven't been revealed yet. But anyway, back to my boring blog. It will get more interesting and funny, I promise (even if it has to become an entirely fictional blog). So hang in there, my avid fans (I guess that means you, Mom and Dad!). Oh, and by the way, I don't hate men (only the majority of them).

Arts Retreat

Tomorrow I have to go on an "arts retreat" with my cohort where we will stay overnight at a lodge about thirty miles away. We're going to be making "culture boxes"...didn't we do that in the third grade? And isn't "culture box" really just another name for "diorama"? Needless to say, I'm not excited.

Violence IS the answer

For one of my classes, I'm reading a book called Odd Girl Out: The Hidden Culture of Aggression in Girls. It's all about girls "bullying" each other by destroying reputations and ruining lives through rumors, gossiping, the "silent treatment," and all sorts of other insidious, manipulative methods. And sadly, it's all very true. Girls can be malicious, and what's so scary is that we're so sneaky about it. But you know who we have to blame for these problems? Our messed up, socially catastrophic, completely hypocritical, piece of crap patriarchal society that oppresses women to such a point that they're not even allowed to tell each other when they're angry! Call me extreme, call me a feminist, call me wrong (even though I'm right), but the truth of the matter is, girls are socially conditioned not to express their emotions. Think about it: if guys have a problem, what do they do? Yell at each other or throw a couple punches and then everything's cool. Of course, I'm obviously oversimplifying here, but this illustrates the basic difference between girls versus boys in terms of same-sex social interactions. And this is what is complete crap and makes me wish that I were a lesbian or a member of Charlotte Perkins Gilman's all-female society in Herland: the power differential between men and women. Don't tell me how far women have come, and how we're closing the gap and all that crap-- it's not true. Women have barely had the right to vote, for God's sake! But anyway, here's what is so completely frustrating. Men say women have all the power, blah blah blah. But let's examine what type of power we actually have: sexual. Every ounce of "power" a woman has over a man stems from something sexual. Is it possible to be a woman and have nonsexual power? Maybe if you're a body-builder or filthy rich, but these are exceptions and aren't the norm, and they come with their own set of stereotypes and societally-imposed dichotomies. The more money and the higher up a woman is on the job ladder, the less likely she is to be married. Why is that? Why are men scared of women being more successful than them? Because their role as "provider" is challenged? It's such a complete load of crap. Because we are physically "inferior" and emotional, we are seen as weaker. Well who the hell decided that not being as strong and having feelings makes someone weak? In order for women to succeed in the male-dominated corporate world, they have to become stoic, or at the very least "in control" of their emotions. This patriarchal "formula for success" requires women to have to take on traditionally masculine qualities and then where does that get us? To the top, maybe, but then we are seen as prudish, intimidating, undesirable. It's not fair. Women should be able to get married and have kids AND be at the top of their careers without having to tolerate the patriarchal B.S. that makes us less desirable and less likely to find a mate. When I make it to the top of whatever that may be, I can't wait to hire an all male staff and pay them 75% of what they should be earning for their positions. And if I'm angry, I'm not gonna keep it all bottled up inside like this insidious girl bullying crap-- I'm gonna slug someone right in the face, and then they can tell me how intimidating I am.

Boys. Sigh.

Yesterday was my last day at the high school for my field observation. After one of the senior elective classes, a kid walks up to me and says, "Hey, can you do me a favor?". Naturally, I'm a little suspicious, so I ask him what he needs. He replies, "Can you wink at my friend, Brian?". Hmmmm, let me think...no! Like I really need to get slapped with a sexual harrassment lawsuit my second week in a classroom! So I tell him no and he offers me five bucks, which in all honesty was somewhat tempting. Boys are so silly.

Playing teacher, new personal lows, my latest obsession, and being a morbidly obese gymnast

I feel so guilty for not having posted very much lately. So, here are a few random things I've been dying to talk about. (Not that putting them in a bulleted list really makes up for a lack of posts, but whatever):

• Becoming a teacher: Thursday is my last official day of my "field observations" out in good ol' Mukilteo (which is a solid 23-mile commute from my apartment). I've been waking up at 5:30 in the morning, which is definitely taking its toll on me. I don't know how the heck those kids get to school by 7:20 every day. It makes no sense why their school starts so early, especially considering that teenagers require the most hours of sleep. But anyway... tomorrow I get to "shadow" a sophomore from one of the honors English classes, so that should be pretty interesting.

• Iron Girl 5K: On Sunday my mom and I ran the Iron Girl 5K, and I set a new record-- I got my slowest time ever! I'm attempting to cheer myself up about it by laughing, but the truth is I'm pretty disappointed. I guess mostly still mad at myself for getting so gung-ho after my previous race in July that I launched into a massive running campaign and ended up killing my calf, setting myself back a month. But I learned my lesson (well, at least I hope I did), so this time around I'm going to give my legs the proper rest and then step it up a few notches.

• Veronica Mars: Cassie and I are completely obsessed with it. I absolutely love the show. We're halfway through the first season, and we've got two more discs coming via Netflix tomorrow. On Saturday afternoon, after I got home from work, I was so exhausted that I sat down on the couch and watched seven straight episodes of Veronica Mars, moving only to get more food. I think I might be an addict.

• My new job: My new part-time gig is working as a gymnastics instructor. Those of you who know me would find this funny for several reasons:

1) I don't know how to do gymnastics. I can do a somersault and a cartwheel. That's it.
2) I'm about a foot too tall and fifty pounds too heavy to be a gymnast (and I'm not that tall or that fat).

High school all over again

Today was day two of my field observation at a high school located 22 miles north of where I live. So for the next seven days I have to wake up at the buttcrack of dawn (bonus points if you got the reference): 5:30am. It sucks. I have to go to bed at 9:30 if I want 8 hours of sleep. I feel like I'm five or something. But anyway, this is how the field observation works: I'm assigned to a teacher and I basically sit in the back of her classroom and take copious notes about everything she does. I've got a field handbook that has tons of assignments in it-- interviews with staff and students, and lots of observations to take and write about. I'm actually really excited for it, but it's pretty overwhelming at the same time. It just feels so strange being in a high school. And this place is huge-- 3 stories with several separate buildings, including an annex, a pool, and a greenhouse. 2200 students go here! That's 1,000 mores students than my high school had (granted we were only a 10-12 school). My teacher had me introduce myself to her classes, and I had to refer to myself as a Ms.! That was probably one of the most uncomfortable feelings ever. I honestly felt like I was assuming a fake identity. We'll see how it goes tomorrow... for now I've gotta catch some much-needed shut-eye so I don't fall asleep in class like the kids...

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.