I'm (kind of!) a teacher

So I'm in the field full-time now, and I'll be gradually assuming more teaching responsibilities. Yesterday I did a PowerPoint presentation for all my students to introduce myself. I had some pictures of family and Hector and some of my hobbies to show them, and I think they enjoyed it. I can't wait to actually start teaching, though.

Anyway, waking up at 6am is actually going pretty well. I've been going to sleep by 10pm the past few nights, so I've been getting my requisite eight hours of shut-eye. Which reminds me, speaking of eyes, mine is still acting kinda weird. I've been putting this ointment in my eye every night, which is supposed to make my vision a little blurry, so I can't even really tell if it's helping or not. Oh, well, I guess I'll find out next week when I'm back at the eye doctor's.

I'm done!

Today was the last day of Block II for me! I can't believe I'm halfway done with getting my graduate degree. On Monday I start student-teaching-- well, I won't be actually teaching quite yet, but for the next 12 weeks I'll be in the field. I officially take over all teaching responsibilites at the very end of April. For now I'm just slowly getting integrated into the classroom and next week I'll start teaching a class a day. I can't wait-- I'm teaching a creative writing unit, so hopefully it should be really fun. And then I get to possibly do a unit on mythology, which would also be pretty awesome. Really the only thing that sucks is having to wake up at 6am every day, but I'll get used to it. I know it's really not that early, but classes on campus don't start until 9am, so I'm used to rolling out of bed around 8. Plus I'm more of a nightowl, anyway. Oh, and I guess one more thing that sucks is I'll be technically working 40+ hour weeks with my student-teacher position, but then I'll have to go to my actual job that pays me money on the weekends. So basically I will never have a break. I'll be working Sunday through Saturday. But I figure it's only 12 weeks, so I'll just have to suck it up and tough it out. And I do get a spring break, so I can't complain too much.

My eyeball

So, as many of you know, my right eye has been giving me grief for the past month and a half. Well, I finally went to the eye doctor today, and it appears that my eye has developed some kind of intolerance for the contact solution that I have been using religiously for the past six years. So that's what's been screwing with my vision and making my eye look red and infected. The contact lens specialist that I saw was pretty hilarious. She looked at my eyes and goes, "Throw those contact lenses away. Your right eye is all irritated and your left contact has a tear in it." Now I have to use some kind of hypersensitive solution, and every night I have to put my contacts in this weird little contraption with magnesium in it to let them soak overnight so that all of the preservatives are gone. And because my eye's been so messed up for awhile now, I have some corneal scarring which has to be treated with eye ointment. But, on the plus side, the eye technician told me that I have a "very interesting eye color that is very unusual." Yeah-- it's called diarrhea green.

I've lost it

I think I've officially gone insane. To celebrate my unit plan being finished, I played Karaoke Revolution by myself for an hour...and now I have so much energy I don't think I can go to bed. I really want to go for a run, but it's dark outside and people are sleeping and I already ran this morning.

Tomorrow I'm doing a presentation for one of my classes on junk food marketing to children. My group and I are using some old '80s commercials for fun, and I came across this absolutely hilarious one for "Big Stuf" Oreos. It's pretty much the only thing that's gotten me through this week.

The end is near...

My unit plan is almost done. Now I can finally get out of stress-induced starvation mode...

I need some serious meditation time...

My poor Quasimodo back is not used to sitting at my desk for hours on end...

I've been slaving away working on my unit plan all weekend long. It's basically the culminating project for this quarter, and it's going to be a huge 100+-page document. I keep taking short little breaks to stand up and stretch or walk around my apartment. Sometimes I scream really loud or sing in my opera voice (which, upon second thought, might actually qualify as screaming, anyway). For some reason it just feels good to be vocal. I have what I like to call "controllable Tourette's." Whereas actual Tourette's Syndrome is characterized by involuntary tics and exclamations, I make a conscious decision to shout random things. Most of the time I just make really weird, loud noises. Although I'm fairly sure there is at least some genetic component, because my dad has been known to do the same thing (sorry to call you out on that one, Dad, but I gotta give credit where it's due!).

"Rain, rain go away..."

Yeah, yeah, I know I live in Seattle, but it's rainy and yucky and cold and I don't feel like going outside to run-- or to do anything, for that matter. I think I'm going to finish the lesson plan I'm working on right now and then curl up on the couch with my fleece blanket and read.

Cuteness

Ah, this is the life...

There must be a mathematical equation...

...that states that the distance I run is directly proportional to the current level of stress I am experiencing.

So, if x is a constant variable indicating my normal level of sanity, y=my current level of sanity, and r=the number of miles I run, then y=rx. Since I ran 7 miles today, y=7x. Or, in other words, my current level of sanity is equal to seven times my normal level of sanity.

P.S. I haven't taken math in six years.
P.P.S. It probably shows.

P.S.

Oh yeah, the vision in my right eye is still all screwed up. I called the eye doctor and tried to make an appointment today, but the lady on the phone was rude and incompetent. So I'm in a bad mood because I can't see and it's giving me a headache. And I have too much homework to do, and I have to work all weekend, and I'm sitting around wasting time right now because if I have to write one more lesson plan I'm going to vomit.

OK, just had to get that out of my system.

I'm a material girl

A leg broke off of my couch today, my vacuum cleaner is a piece of crap, and yesterday I busted this little plastic thing in our closet when I tried to do a handstand and slammed into the closet door instead. Basically, this boils down to one thing: I'm sick of this apartment and I'm sick of all the cheap crap that I own. I decided that I can't be a teacher because it just doesn't pay enough. I want things and stuff-- and lots and lots of it. I want a condo with a secure parking space in a garage, my own washer and dryer, granite kitchen countertops and stainless steel appliances. And I want a loft study and a gas fireplace and a balcony. And real couches that aren't cheap Ikea crap. So excuse me for wanting to live, but I'm really sick and tired of getting paid pittance, and the thought of going into a career where I'm continuing to be paid crap just doesn't appeal to me. I'm money-hungry, greedy, and materialistic. Pretty much the only thing keeping me from dropping out of the MIT program is my greediness of wanting a Master's degree.

I'm going blind...

My vision is all blurry in my right eye and I can't really see. It's really annoying.

Diaper Smell

I finally got a chance to wash and vacuum my car this weekend, which for pretty much the past five months had been in dire need of cleaning. In order to complete my "Extreme Makeover: '99 Pontiac Edition," I bought a cute new air freshner for my car in the shape of a palm tree marketed as carrying the blissfully tropical aroma of a tantalizing "Hawaiian Breeze." I unwittingly hung the palm tree from my rearview mirror, and in moments my car boasted the fragrance not of a sweet tropical breeze, but rather of a brand new diaper. Granted, at least it didn't smell like a poopy diaper. Although when I handpicked my Hawaiian Breeze air freshner, I hadn't exactly been expecting my car to turn into a baby buggy. Who knew that Hawaii smelled like a pack of freshly opened Pampers?

"Kids say the darndest things!"

Today I spent the day at the middle school where I'm going to be doing my student teaching. There was a school dance this afternoon and my cooperating teacher and I were hanging out in a classroom keeping an eye on the kids who weren't allowed to attend (due to behavior, etc.). I was talking to one of the boys, and he asked me if I really liked Star Wars. I asked him what made him wonder that, and he replied, "Because you sound like a Star Wars lady." I, in turn, responded, "Well, no one's ever told me that before."

I don't know what a "Star Wars lady" is or why I apparently sound like one...

My 3-hour visit to the ER...

OK, let me preface this post by saying that I'm alive and well, so no worries. But my unprecedented visit to the ER is yet another testament to the complete recklessness and extreme idiocy of the M. clan...

Yesterday at work, I was in the process of setting up for a birthday party. I picked up a bag of plastic forks, and, recognizing that I'm completely incompetent at tearing open plastic bags, I had the bright idea of using the serrated cake spatula that was sitting on the table to quickly open the bag of forks. Well, in my frenzied haste to get things rolling, I apparently misjudged the nearly fatal potential of my instrument of choice. The spatula was not only sharp enough to slice through the top of a plastic bag of forks, it also sliced through my finger. My first thought was, "Don't let the parents and the kids see." So I whispered to my co-worker that I had cut my finger and then ran to the bathroom, dripping blood on the sink. I knew right away that it was deep, because 1) It hurt like hell, and 2) I'd never cut myself like that before. I felt like the biggest idiot of all time, because it was completely idiotic and entirely my fault. And to top it off, there are only two people who work on Sundays at my job, so there was basically no way I could leave. So I slapped a bunch of band-aids on my finger and had to suck it up, put on a smile, and do the birthday parties.

When I got off work five hours later, I went straight to my family's house and my mom confirmed that I most likely needed stitches. So we went to the ER and ended up having to wait there for about three hours. Three hours for two measly stitches because I'm an idiot. Lesson learned.

Maybe I should keep on gaining weight...

On Sunday I'm running the Love 'Em or Leave 'Em 5K in honor of Valentine's Day. I've been pretty gung-ho about my running since the Nike+ serendipitously fell into my hands right around my birthday (alright, it really wasn't serendipitous at all, it was actually a gift), so you'd think I'd be making some good progress. I hope so, but I guess we'll find out for sure on Sunday. Anyway, some of these 5K races have a Clydesdale division, which is supposed to be for heavier people. And here is the completely depressing/inspiring part: in order to be in the female Clydesdale division, you have to weigh 140 pounds or more. Depressing: I fit into the "hefty woman" category. Inspiring: if I actually entered a race that had a Clydesdale division, maybe I'd have a chance of winning. But I seriously don't get this weight requirement thing. What if you're like 5'8'' and weigh 140 pounds? Then you're perfectly slender. And I'm not saying I couldn't stand to lose a little extra chub, but seriously... these weight requirements are ridiculous! Isn't the average American woman 5'4'' and 145 pounds, or something like that? If they want to really make things fair, they'd do a body fact percentage thing and then place people into divisions accordingly. I just can't decide whether to be offended or elated that my body doesn't fit the archetypal "runner's build."

My eye

So I think I have pink eye or something. Yesterday I attributed my mediocre American Idol Karaoke Revolution performance to blurry vision, and when I was taking my contacts out last night, I realized that my right eye was bloodshot and pink. I had trouble sleeping last night because my eye hurt, and all day today it's been watering incessantly. I went to Target and got some homeopathic pink eye drops, so I hope they work. It sucks because I can't see very well with my glasses and my eye is in pain and I look like I'm crying. Since the beginning of the school year/the start of my new job, I've been feeling more under the weather and have been afflicted with the weirdest crap-- it's gotta be my constant exposure to little kid germs, middle school kid germs, and grown-up germs. This better come to a stop soon, though, or I'm seriously going to reconsider becoming a teacher...

Hmmm....

I currently have $8.37 in my checking account. That's not cool. Not cool at all.

Exhausted

School and work and life is exhausting.

This is how I know...

...that I'm a loser. Both Netflix and WaMu are temporarily unavailable for their weekly scheduled maintenance. That's what I get for trying to update my queue and check my bank statement at 11:30 on a Saturday night. I'm lame.