Also, it was brought to my attention that some people couldn't post. I changed the settings, so hopefully that won't be an issue anymore (because I like comments)!
Monday, February 22, 2010
Comments on Comments
I felt the need to respond to a comment on my computer class post, so I commented on the comment. This means I just commented on my own blog. This worries me...a lot.
Computer Class and twitter
As previously posted, I love all thing Olympics. NBC's Olympics' website has scrolling athlete tweets, which I now think is quite possibly the best thing ever.
Normally, I hate twitter and all that it stands for, mainly the degradation of the English language. (I had to drop my other argument that it makes people seem incredibly vain and self-absorbed because who cares what you had for lunch today or if you are getting in the shower right now when I started blogging.) Don't get me wrong, my favorite thing about English is its ability to change to fit the needs of its users, new words can be added, old words can get new meanings or new uses. I love it. What I don't love, however, is the direction that technology is pushing it--into a land where letters can be dropped, punctuation can be ignored, I can become i, all in the name of making it 140 characters or less.
So how, you ask, do I somehow manage to reconcile my hatred towards twitter and my desire to know everything that Apolo Ohno is thinking and doing in Vancouver? Simple, I'm reading the tweets on NBC's website not his twitter page. So, while I'm technically reading tweets, I'm not subscribing or even technically following him on twitter. (I did accidentally hit something that took me to Tanith Belbin's actual twitter page; I closed it out almost immediately.)
What does this have to do with computer class? Well, we had a quiz today. I spent about 15 minutes studying and felt pretty good about it. When I got to class, a bunch of the other students were freaking out about it. Now would be a good time to mention that my two friends and I are the youngest people in the class. There are a lot of people who are probably around my mom's age. I say that to say that, while I've basically grown up using a computer, a lot of people in my class haven't, so while I'm used to all these "computer words" we were being tested on, they aren't. Thanks to the English language's ability to take in tons of new technology words, words like RAM, gigabyte, and operating system are words I grew up hearing and are an accepted part of my vocabulary. I'm thankful for this. So I guess I need to learn to be thankful that, due to character restrictions on text messages and tweets, my students are growing up with "words" like txt, ur, and u. It is another example of how language adapts to time and culture.
I guess I should thank twitter for giving me another great example about functional shifts in language. But, I know me, and I know that's never going to happen (although I am glad I know the sun is shining in Vancouver).
Normally, I hate twitter and all that it stands for, mainly the degradation of the English language. (I had to drop my other argument that it makes people seem incredibly vain and self-absorbed because who cares what you had for lunch today or if you are getting in the shower right now when I started blogging.) Don't get me wrong, my favorite thing about English is its ability to change to fit the needs of its users, new words can be added, old words can get new meanings or new uses. I love it. What I don't love, however, is the direction that technology is pushing it--into a land where letters can be dropped, punctuation can be ignored, I can become i, all in the name of making it 140 characters or less.
So how, you ask, do I somehow manage to reconcile my hatred towards twitter and my desire to know everything that Apolo Ohno is thinking and doing in Vancouver? Simple, I'm reading the tweets on NBC's website not his twitter page. So, while I'm technically reading tweets, I'm not subscribing or even technically following him on twitter. (I did accidentally hit something that took me to Tanith Belbin's actual twitter page; I closed it out almost immediately.)
What does this have to do with computer class? Well, we had a quiz today. I spent about 15 minutes studying and felt pretty good about it. When I got to class, a bunch of the other students were freaking out about it. Now would be a good time to mention that my two friends and I are the youngest people in the class. There are a lot of people who are probably around my mom's age. I say that to say that, while I've basically grown up using a computer, a lot of people in my class haven't, so while I'm used to all these "computer words" we were being tested on, they aren't. Thanks to the English language's ability to take in tons of new technology words, words like RAM, gigabyte, and operating system are words I grew up hearing and are an accepted part of my vocabulary. I'm thankful for this. So I guess I need to learn to be thankful that, due to character restrictions on text messages and tweets, my students are growing up with "words" like txt, ur, and u. It is another example of how language adapts to time and culture.
I guess I should thank twitter for giving me another great example about functional shifts in language. But, I know me, and I know that's never going to happen (although I am glad I know the sun is shining in Vancouver).
God and Irony
People like to say that God has a sense of humor. I guess He does, kind of, but that's just one of His many attributes. If you're a book nerd like me and you read the Bible, you also pick up on the fact that God is a pretty fantastic writer. And, like all good writers, He uses the tools of good writing. (Now you know a little bit how my students feel when I go all grammar/writing nerd on them.) One of those tools at a good writer's disposal is irony. Not quite sure what irony is? Let's take a look at an example.
There was a girl. She decided that she was going to take an entire year and focus on loving herself. As the year went on, she began to notice that she really didn't love God or other people all that much. But, she did notice that she liked herself just fine. She also started to notice pajama pants, but that doesn't really have anything to do with the irony.
That, my friends, is a great example of irony. You decide to start loving yourself and really see that you need to love God more. And other people more. You discover that loving yourself is something you've basically got down.
(But don't worry, I'm not going to stop appreciating myself....so there are still presents and fun things in my future that I will be posting!)
There was a girl. She decided that she was going to take an entire year and focus on loving herself. As the year went on, she began to notice that she really didn't love God or other people all that much. But, she did notice that she liked herself just fine. She also started to notice pajama pants, but that doesn't really have anything to do with the irony.
That, my friends, is a great example of irony. You decide to start loving yourself and really see that you need to love God more. And other people more. You discover that loving yourself is something you've basically got down.
(But don't worry, I'm not going to stop appreciating myself....so there are still presents and fun things in my future that I will be posting!)
What's the Point?
Last week, a friend of mine asked if I was ok. She said that I had seemed a little sad lately. This caught me off guard because I have generally been feeling pretty good. The more I thought about it though, I realized that this friend really only sees me at work, and when we talk, we usually talk about work. So, I got a little concerned. Do the people I work with think I'm miserable?
As I thought about it, I started to realize that I'm not very good at balancing things. I've become quite content--even thankful--for things going on in my personal life, and it's almost like all the discontent I felt about it before has just moved over and camped out in my classroom, a place I used to love but have started to strongly dislike lately. Why can't I be content with my life inside and outside of school? The more I thought, the more bothered I became.
I have one class at school, my last class of the day, that is by far the most difficult. It is made up of what people in the education world like to call "reluctant learners." In normal-person speak, they are the students who simply don't want to do anything, classwork or behavior wise. And I have the tremendous blessing of getting them for their last class of the day, when they've been sitting in desks all day long and really just can't take it anymore. I always start the year excited about these students, hoping that I will be that one teacher that magically gets them all to behave, to learn, to grow. Then, I slowly become disillusioned. And finally, I give up all hope, in my ability as a teacher and in my students.
In just the last week, I have told a friend that I hate them, can't stand them, and that I am going to quit my job so I don't have to see them. I have wished aloud that they would all get sick or hurt and have to miss school. My heart sinks when I see them in the hallways, and I am always in a bad mood at 1:25 because that is when they start making their way into my classroom. I should feel bad for thinking these things, for feeling this way, but I don't really. To sum it up, my last class means a whole bunch of sin. (And yes, I am aware that I now sound like the worst person ever.)
Yesterday at church, my pastor was speaking about Romans 8:28 and how we all go through struggles. Typically, I throw this verse around for truly horrible things, like someone getting really sick or someone dying, but as I sat in church, I realized that it can apply to what I think of as smaller struggles, struggles like my class. The pastor kept talking about how we don't always get to know the why of our suffering, but we have to have faith that it is for the best, that it is God's will for us. I agree. And while we don't always get the concrete why that we're looking for, we do always have at least one. It is God's will for us, which means that it is somehow going to make us more like Jesus.
I decided I needed to look at my last class through this lens. What is it that this class, these students, can teach me? How is putting up with them from 1:25-2:55 every afternoon going to make me more like Christ? The answer I found seems simple but in actuality is really, really hard. Love.
The Gospels are filled with examples of times when Jesus decided to hang out with "undesirables." You know, the down and dirty people. Sinners. Tax collectors. Prostitutes. Growing up in church, I always heard this and took it to mean that I needed to spend time with "those people." But I think we can get a little off track and think that giving those people some time is enough. Surely we don't need to be with them and "love" them every single day! How wrong we are.
The students in my last class can best be described as "those people." In fact, just a few days ago, I described them to a friend as "the kind of kids I couldn't stand being around when I was in middle school." As I thought, I couldn't help but think that Jesus would probably choose to be in my last class because those students are the kind of people he chose to be around.
As a teacher, I want the great students. The ones who behave. The ones who do their work perfectly and on time. The ones who always say the most amazing things during class discussions. The ones who love their teachers. Appreciate their teachers. Want to please their teachers. The ones who, if they had to, could probably learn everything on their own and be just fine.
Mark 2:17 says, "On hearing this, Jesus said to them, 'It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners.'"
I want the healthy students. The ones who really don't need a teacher. I don't want the really sick ones, the ones who are so sick they have given up all hope of getting better, but those are the ones I have. Those are the ones I have been given.
Instead of being thankful for that, being thankful that God has given me to students who need my help, who need His love, I have become angry, bitter, and tired. So much so that people I work with think there is something wrong with me. Well, there is something wrong with me, and it is my heart. In this particular area, I am sick and in desparate need of a doctor (although not the actual kind, which I wouldn't mind if he were single, attractive, and around my age).
Instead of being angry and annoyed when I see my students, I should be overwhelmed with Christ's love for them and His love for me. The love that knows how great my need is to learn to love and serve others, the kind of others who might not even want to be served and who are never going to thank me for it. The love that put me in my school, with my students. The love that knows that my students need Jesus. The love that gives me the privilage to show them Jesus. The love that gives me mercy when I take advantage of that opportunity and fail miserably at my given task. The love that gives me grace to keep going, to try again, to look towards 1:25 with hope and anticipation instead of dread. The love that lets me love "those people" because it loved me first.
As I thought about it, I started to realize that I'm not very good at balancing things. I've become quite content--even thankful--for things going on in my personal life, and it's almost like all the discontent I felt about it before has just moved over and camped out in my classroom, a place I used to love but have started to strongly dislike lately. Why can't I be content with my life inside and outside of school? The more I thought, the more bothered I became.
I have one class at school, my last class of the day, that is by far the most difficult. It is made up of what people in the education world like to call "reluctant learners." In normal-person speak, they are the students who simply don't want to do anything, classwork or behavior wise. And I have the tremendous blessing of getting them for their last class of the day, when they've been sitting in desks all day long and really just can't take it anymore. I always start the year excited about these students, hoping that I will be that one teacher that magically gets them all to behave, to learn, to grow. Then, I slowly become disillusioned. And finally, I give up all hope, in my ability as a teacher and in my students.
In just the last week, I have told a friend that I hate them, can't stand them, and that I am going to quit my job so I don't have to see them. I have wished aloud that they would all get sick or hurt and have to miss school. My heart sinks when I see them in the hallways, and I am always in a bad mood at 1:25 because that is when they start making their way into my classroom. I should feel bad for thinking these things, for feeling this way, but I don't really. To sum it up, my last class means a whole bunch of sin. (And yes, I am aware that I now sound like the worst person ever.)
Yesterday at church, my pastor was speaking about Romans 8:28 and how we all go through struggles. Typically, I throw this verse around for truly horrible things, like someone getting really sick or someone dying, but as I sat in church, I realized that it can apply to what I think of as smaller struggles, struggles like my class. The pastor kept talking about how we don't always get to know the why of our suffering, but we have to have faith that it is for the best, that it is God's will for us. I agree. And while we don't always get the concrete why that we're looking for, we do always have at least one. It is God's will for us, which means that it is somehow going to make us more like Jesus.
I decided I needed to look at my last class through this lens. What is it that this class, these students, can teach me? How is putting up with them from 1:25-2:55 every afternoon going to make me more like Christ? The answer I found seems simple but in actuality is really, really hard. Love.
The Gospels are filled with examples of times when Jesus decided to hang out with "undesirables." You know, the down and dirty people. Sinners. Tax collectors. Prostitutes. Growing up in church, I always heard this and took it to mean that I needed to spend time with "those people." But I think we can get a little off track and think that giving those people some time is enough. Surely we don't need to be with them and "love" them every single day! How wrong we are.
The students in my last class can best be described as "those people." In fact, just a few days ago, I described them to a friend as "the kind of kids I couldn't stand being around when I was in middle school." As I thought, I couldn't help but think that Jesus would probably choose to be in my last class because those students are the kind of people he chose to be around.
As a teacher, I want the great students. The ones who behave. The ones who do their work perfectly and on time. The ones who always say the most amazing things during class discussions. The ones who love their teachers. Appreciate their teachers. Want to please their teachers. The ones who, if they had to, could probably learn everything on their own and be just fine.
Mark 2:17 says, "On hearing this, Jesus said to them, 'It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners.'"
I want the healthy students. The ones who really don't need a teacher. I don't want the really sick ones, the ones who are so sick they have given up all hope of getting better, but those are the ones I have. Those are the ones I have been given.
Instead of being thankful for that, being thankful that God has given me to students who need my help, who need His love, I have become angry, bitter, and tired. So much so that people I work with think there is something wrong with me. Well, there is something wrong with me, and it is my heart. In this particular area, I am sick and in desparate need of a doctor (although not the actual kind, which I wouldn't mind if he were single, attractive, and around my age).
Instead of being angry and annoyed when I see my students, I should be overwhelmed with Christ's love for them and His love for me. The love that knows how great my need is to learn to love and serve others, the kind of others who might not even want to be served and who are never going to thank me for it. The love that put me in my school, with my students. The love that knows that my students need Jesus. The love that gives me the privilage to show them Jesus. The love that gives me mercy when I take advantage of that opportunity and fail miserably at my given task. The love that gives me grace to keep going, to try again, to look towards 1:25 with hope and anticipation instead of dread. The love that lets me love "those people" because it loved me first.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
blood:water mission
Before I get to the main point of this post--blood:water mission--I feel like I need to spend a few lines on blood alcohol. The police called me this morning to ask if I could come in and make an official statement, so I went to the police station during my planning. While I was there, I found out that the guy who rear-ended me yesterday had a blood alcohol level of .14 (.08 is the legal limit where I live). Hopefully, he will just plead guilty, but if he doesn't, I'll have to go to his trial and testify.
Anyway, back to the main point. My friend at school convinced me to do the blood:water mission's Forty Days of Water with her. She didn't really convince me so much as tell me she was going to do it, which made me think, "I'm going to feel like a bad person if I see her drinking water all the time to raise money for people in Africa and I'm sitting around doing nothing." Because I didn't want that kind of guilt, I said I would join her. To read about what exactly I'm doing, check out their website:
http://www.bloodwatermission.com/fortydays.php. You might even decide to join me!
In a nutshell, I'm not allowed to drink anything but water for the next forty days. Anyone who knows me knows that I have an intimate personal relationship with Diet Coke, so to say I'm a little concerned is an understatement. I warned my students today. They were all shocked, and none of them believe I can make it that long sans Diet Coke. I don't think they really want me to--I don't imaging I'm going to be too pleasant to be around for awhile. I also realized that this means no wine during The Bachelor finale and no Diet Coke or alcohol on my birthday--boo.
For motivation I had a friend who has been to Africa e-mail me a picture of some cute African kids that I can set as my background on my computers at school. Hopefully whenever the craving for a Diet Coke hits I will be able to use it to get me through. We'll see how it goes....one day down, thirty-nine to go!
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
The Post That No Title Seemed Good Enough For
If you ever thought that you're life was boring, you should start a blog. Maybe it's because I've started to look at things like a writer now, searching for any story I can squeeze out, but already I've had the trash can incident, the Great Blizzard of 2010, and then today, I had the greatest story of all. Seriously, I'm going to have to start going to parties because I'm racking up some great anecdotes.
This afternoon after school I went to the grocery store, and on my way home I was almost hit by a car. Some guy was leaving the gas station and almost didn't stop before he turned right, which means he came really close to t-boning me. Thankfully, he slammed on his breaks just in time. This means he pulled out and was directly behind me.
Last night when I was watching pairs figure skating (which, as a total aside, my little brother first thought was pears skating--like people dressed like fruit who ice skated around--when I told him he should watch it), I decided that if the cute, married Chinese couple won the gold medal that I would get Chinese take-out for dinner today--because I'm on a diet and will take any excuse to eat what I want. So, I'm on my way home from the grocery store, slowing down to take a right into the Chinese food parking lot, and suddenly I get hit from behind.
I pull the rest of the way into the parking lot, assuming that the guy behind me is going to pull in too, seeing as how he just rear-ended me and all. Well, I was wrong. Instead of pulling in, he sped away, leaving me befuddled in the parking lot of a Chinese restaurant. "Seriously," I thought, "have I really been in a hit-and-run??" Thankfully, I was fine, and so was my car.
I had no real idea how to handle the situation, so I did what any girl would do. I called my mom. She didn't really know what I should do, so she called my stepdad. I tried to call a guy friend (because for some reason I think that guys automatically know what to do in any type of traffic-related situation--probably because I've bought into some serious gender-and-driving-related stereotypes, but whatever), but he didn't answer his phone. Since the punk who hit me sped away, I didn't get his plates or anything, so I didn't really know what the police would do and couldn't decide if I should call them or not. My mom and I ended up deciding that the best thing for me to do would be to call the police station and see what they thought about whether or not I should file a report.
I ended up on the phone with the deputy on duty in my small town. I told him what happened and described the car and the driver--who thankfully I got a good look at when he almost hit me pulling out of the gas station. "Finally," I thought, "all that Law and Order watching is being put to good use. I just got to describe a suspect." I finished my story, expecting nothing much from the police since my description of "newer black four-door Nissan" was not very specific. Instead, I got something quite different. The deputy I was talking to said this:
"Well, I think we've got the car that hit you right here."
I was instructed to stay where I was and wait for him. He arrived after a few minutes, checked out my car, and then asked me to follow him so I could see if the car they had was the car that hit me. We drove about two minutes down the road to the location where the guy who hit me had driven his car into a ditch. I quickly identified the vehicle--which made me feel kind of cool, I'm not going to lie. The driver was a little ways up the road, right in the middle of his sobriety check. He was stumbling all over the place wearing, get this, pajama pants--they have become some sort of theme for my life I guess. The police got all my information in case they need to contact me to be a witness. I went home.
I told my roommate my story when she got home. A bit later, she was talking to someone on the phone who had seen the guy a little earlier in the afternoon driving forward then reverse then forward then reverse then forward then reverse in the median not too far from where he hit me. Crazy. I've now decided that I don't have to grade any schoolwork tonight because I got hit by a drunk driver. I'm also considering getting myself a gift. Some fabulous ring or something that whenever someone compliments me on I can respond to them by saying, "Thanks! This is the ring I got when I got hit by a drunk driver."
I don't want to sound like I'm making light of the situation because I know it could have been much worse than it was. Thankfully I'm not hurt, just a little sore from my seat belt, and my car is fine. And thankfully, the guy drove off the road before he seriously hurt someone. So instead of having a truly terrible story, I have one that's not so bad. So tonight I'm going to watch the Olympics--and probably enjoy them a little more than I usually do because I could just as easily not be.
This afternoon after school I went to the grocery store, and on my way home I was almost hit by a car. Some guy was leaving the gas station and almost didn't stop before he turned right, which means he came really close to t-boning me. Thankfully, he slammed on his breaks just in time. This means he pulled out and was directly behind me.
Last night when I was watching pairs figure skating (which, as a total aside, my little brother first thought was pears skating--like people dressed like fruit who ice skated around--when I told him he should watch it), I decided that if the cute, married Chinese couple won the gold medal that I would get Chinese take-out for dinner today--because I'm on a diet and will take any excuse to eat what I want. So, I'm on my way home from the grocery store, slowing down to take a right into the Chinese food parking lot, and suddenly I get hit from behind.
I pull the rest of the way into the parking lot, assuming that the guy behind me is going to pull in too, seeing as how he just rear-ended me and all. Well, I was wrong. Instead of pulling in, he sped away, leaving me befuddled in the parking lot of a Chinese restaurant. "Seriously," I thought, "have I really been in a hit-and-run??" Thankfully, I was fine, and so was my car.
I had no real idea how to handle the situation, so I did what any girl would do. I called my mom. She didn't really know what I should do, so she called my stepdad. I tried to call a guy friend (because for some reason I think that guys automatically know what to do in any type of traffic-related situation--probably because I've bought into some serious gender-and-driving-related stereotypes, but whatever), but he didn't answer his phone. Since the punk who hit me sped away, I didn't get his plates or anything, so I didn't really know what the police would do and couldn't decide if I should call them or not. My mom and I ended up deciding that the best thing for me to do would be to call the police station and see what they thought about whether or not I should file a report.
I ended up on the phone with the deputy on duty in my small town. I told him what happened and described the car and the driver--who thankfully I got a good look at when he almost hit me pulling out of the gas station. "Finally," I thought, "all that Law and Order watching is being put to good use. I just got to describe a suspect." I finished my story, expecting nothing much from the police since my description of "newer black four-door Nissan" was not very specific. Instead, I got something quite different. The deputy I was talking to said this:
"Well, I think we've got the car that hit you right here."
I was instructed to stay where I was and wait for him. He arrived after a few minutes, checked out my car, and then asked me to follow him so I could see if the car they had was the car that hit me. We drove about two minutes down the road to the location where the guy who hit me had driven his car into a ditch. I quickly identified the vehicle--which made me feel kind of cool, I'm not going to lie. The driver was a little ways up the road, right in the middle of his sobriety check. He was stumbling all over the place wearing, get this, pajama pants--they have become some sort of theme for my life I guess. The police got all my information in case they need to contact me to be a witness. I went home.
I told my roommate my story when she got home. A bit later, she was talking to someone on the phone who had seen the guy a little earlier in the afternoon driving forward then reverse then forward then reverse then forward then reverse in the median not too far from where he hit me. Crazy. I've now decided that I don't have to grade any schoolwork tonight because I got hit by a drunk driver. I'm also considering getting myself a gift. Some fabulous ring or something that whenever someone compliments me on I can respond to them by saying, "Thanks! This is the ring I got when I got hit by a drunk driver."
I don't want to sound like I'm making light of the situation because I know it could have been much worse than it was. Thankfully I'm not hurt, just a little sore from my seat belt, and my car is fine. And thankfully, the guy drove off the road before he seriously hurt someone. So instead of having a truly terrible story, I have one that's not so bad. So tonight I'm going to watch the Olympics--and probably enjoy them a little more than I usually do because I could just as easily not be.
And I'm going to reflect on the role that pajama pants have been playing in my life lately.
Monday, February 15, 2010
Computer Class
So I have now gotten into a routine for my computer class. I have a few friends with blogs. I try really hard not to read them during the week, so I have something to do during class. Once I finish reading those, I check my e-mails. After I do all of that, I move on to posting on my blog, leading to my most boring post of the week. Here's the computer class recap:
1) How annoyed was I that men's downhill was today, a day when I was away from a computer and tv at professional development? Very annoyed. Very, very annoyed. I tried to make my friend check it on her phone, but it wouldn't work. So obviously, the first thing I did when I got to class was check results. I am quite excited that Bode Miller won the bronze. He is one exception to my I-find-Olympic-athletes-attractive-during-the-Olympics-because-they-are-athletes theory. I find him attractive all the time; it's his eyes.
2) I just started a small group Bible study with some ladies at my new church. One of them does photography. I looked at her website today. Here is what you need to do:
Go to her website: http://www.swparkerphotography.com/. Look at the fabulous pictures. Then, if you need pictures taken for something, contact her to take them. My friend and I both now really want to get engaged so she can take our pictures. (At least my friend has a boyfriend....) My friend and I are considering getting some friendship pictures taken because the pictures are just that amazing and we want some. There are also some amazing Save the Dates. I spent some time thinking of what I could get a Save the Date made for...my 26th birthday perhaps.
3) Excel can be used for budgeting. This would be helpful, but I would have to make a budget first. My little sister tried to make one for me. It did not go well.
4) You should inventory your house in case you have a fire.
5) Internal Debate: Should I watch the Olympics or the Bachelor tonight? Pairs figure skating long program or fantasy suites?? My picture-in-picture has not been working since my cable company updated my DVR box. Hasn't really been an issue until now. I could have watched Bode Miller's bronze-medal run while seeing if Tenley spends the night with Jake in the fantasy suite. Why have I not called my cable company about this??? I think the word "conundrum" was created for times such as this.
6) I should go to the grocery store, but I don't want to.
7) I think I am going to get out at 6:00 today instead of 7:00! This is all the more reason for me to go the the grocery store. But I still don't want to. I'm probably not going to.
8) I'm up to 9 followers. I think I am going to buy myself a present when it gets to 10. If I think of a cool enough gift, I might follow myself.
Class is almost over. I'm probably not going to think anything else cool, so I'm going to go. If you made it to the end of this post, I congratulate you!
1) How annoyed was I that men's downhill was today, a day when I was away from a computer and tv at professional development? Very annoyed. Very, very annoyed. I tried to make my friend check it on her phone, but it wouldn't work. So obviously, the first thing I did when I got to class was check results. I am quite excited that Bode Miller won the bronze. He is one exception to my I-find-Olympic-athletes-attractive-during-the-Olympics-because-they-are-athletes theory. I find him attractive all the time; it's his eyes.
2) I just started a small group Bible study with some ladies at my new church. One of them does photography. I looked at her website today. Here is what you need to do:
Go to her website: http://www.swparkerphotography.com/. Look at the fabulous pictures. Then, if you need pictures taken for something, contact her to take them. My friend and I both now really want to get engaged so she can take our pictures. (At least my friend has a boyfriend....) My friend and I are considering getting some friendship pictures taken because the pictures are just that amazing and we want some. There are also some amazing Save the Dates. I spent some time thinking of what I could get a Save the Date made for...my 26th birthday perhaps.
3) Excel can be used for budgeting. This would be helpful, but I would have to make a budget first. My little sister tried to make one for me. It did not go well.
4) You should inventory your house in case you have a fire.
5) Internal Debate: Should I watch the Olympics or the Bachelor tonight? Pairs figure skating long program or fantasy suites?? My picture-in-picture has not been working since my cable company updated my DVR box. Hasn't really been an issue until now. I could have watched Bode Miller's bronze-medal run while seeing if Tenley spends the night with Jake in the fantasy suite. Why have I not called my cable company about this??? I think the word "conundrum" was created for times such as this.
6) I should go to the grocery store, but I don't want to.
7) I think I am going to get out at 6:00 today instead of 7:00! This is all the more reason for me to go the the grocery store. But I still don't want to. I'm probably not going to.
8) I'm up to 9 followers. I think I am going to buy myself a present when it gets to 10. If I think of a cool enough gift, I might follow myself.
Class is almost over. I'm probably not going to think anything else cool, so I'm going to go. If you made it to the end of this post, I congratulate you!
Saturday, February 13, 2010
Reasons to Watch the Olympics
As mentioned earlier, I love the Olympics. I love the way that the competition takes on a bigger meaning, how people suddenly become incredibly patriotic, how the world comes together (some kid in the Netherlands is watching the same thing that I am in the same moment). It's fantastic. I also love that they only happen once every four years and the fact that sports that no one really knows exist during non-Olympic years become all people talk about. (On this note, I think that I need to move somewhere in Europe so I can follow speed skating all the time because I think it is one of the best things ever.) I also love watching them now because since I lived in Russia for an extended period of time, I like to think of it as my back-up country, which means I have two countries to pull for instead of one. I love all the human interest stories. I love the NBC Olympics music. I normally don't like Bob Costas at all--but I like him during the Olympics. I think what it comes down to is that, in our messed up world, the Olympics give us a safe reason to hope in something. And it's nice to feel like you're a part of a nation-wide hope. The Olympics work wonders on me. Just look at this next reason....
This is what happens to me when I watch the Olympics: I start thinking pretty much every guy competing is good looking. It is illogical, yes, but it is also interesting and fun. Boys who I normally would not define as hot suddenly get bumped up several notches. I can't really pinpoint why.
Perfect example: Apolo Ohno. (Random aside: Did he stop using his middle name--because I'm pretty sure he used to be Apolo Anton Ohno, but now whenever they put stuff up about him, it just says Apolo Ohno. But an announcer definately just said all three names. The people at NBC need to work this out--I need continuity in my Olympic coverage please.) He has weird hair--on his head and on his face. He was on Dancing With the Stars. He always wears bandanas or headbands. On a normal day, I would look at a picture of him and think, "not that cute." I saw him on tv and in a magazine last week and thought, "not that cute." But now, post opening ceremonies, as I watch short track speed skating, I find myself thinking, "He's totally cute." Nothing has changed about the way he looks.
It probably has something to do with the competition. Or the fact that winning probably makes people seem more attractive. Or the fact that he just bumped some guy (which he didn't get in trouble for, so I assume it was totally legal--but I don't really know anything about the rules of speed skating, so it seemed a tad rebellious to me, which for reasons unknown to anyone, girls think is great). Or the fact that I just learned that he works out eight hours a day. Whatever the reason, the point of the story is that for the next two weeks, there are basically going to be cute guys on tv whenever I turn it on. Like I said, I love the Olympics.
This is what happens to me when I watch the Olympics: I start thinking pretty much every guy competing is good looking. It is illogical, yes, but it is also interesting and fun. Boys who I normally would not define as hot suddenly get bumped up several notches. I can't really pinpoint why.
Perfect example: Apolo Ohno. (Random aside: Did he stop using his middle name--because I'm pretty sure he used to be Apolo Anton Ohno, but now whenever they put stuff up about him, it just says Apolo Ohno. But an announcer definately just said all three names. The people at NBC need to work this out--I need continuity in my Olympic coverage please.) He has weird hair--on his head and on his face. He was on Dancing With the Stars. He always wears bandanas or headbands. On a normal day, I would look at a picture of him and think, "not that cute." I saw him on tv and in a magazine last week and thought, "not that cute." But now, post opening ceremonies, as I watch short track speed skating, I find myself thinking, "He's totally cute." Nothing has changed about the way he looks.
It probably has something to do with the competition. Or the fact that winning probably makes people seem more attractive. Or the fact that he just bumped some guy (which he didn't get in trouble for, so I assume it was totally legal--but I don't really know anything about the rules of speed skating, so it seemed a tad rebellious to me, which for reasons unknown to anyone, girls think is great). Or the fact that I just learned that he works out eight hours a day. Whatever the reason, the point of the story is that for the next two weeks, there are basically going to be cute guys on tv whenever I turn it on. Like I said, I love the Olympics.
How I Do Valentine's Day
Since I am baby-sitting this weekend, I decided to take Friday off to take myself out for Valentine's Day. A lot of single people see Valentine's Day as an evil, horrible day that does nothing but shove their singleness into their faces. I, on the other hand, think it's great. It is a day when you are supposed to do really great things for that someone special in my life. Well, I'm my someone special, so Valentine's Day gives me a great excuse to spoil myself and let myself do something special, just for me. Luckily for me, the movie adaptation of one of my favorite young adult novels, The Lightning Thief, came out Friday, giving me the perfect chance to not only take myself out but to do something I vowed to do this year--go to a movie alone.
I started my Valentine's Day celebration with a trip to one of my all time favorite places--Barnes and Noble. I was planning to go to Starbucks, but it was too crowded (and, if I'm honest with myself, I would rather be around all the books). Since Starbucks has oatmeal now, I was going to eat that for breakfast, but they don't have oatmeal at the Starbucks inside Barnes and Noble. I now had few breakfast options. The sensible one would have been a bagel. But, since it was my Valentine's Day, I was allowed to eat whatever I wanted. So I ate a red velvet cupcake for breakfast. It was amazing, and it totally set the tone for the rest of my day.
After spending some time at the B&N, I headed out to my first solo movie. I had grand visions of being the only person in the theater (since it was showing at 11:00 on a school day). I was wrong. It was actually really crowded--some school district other than mine must have had the day off. No worries, I wasn't going to let some kids ruin my Valentine's Day or lessen the pride I was feeling over my solo-movie victory. (Before I keep going, I feel like I just need to clear up why I wanted to go to a movie alone. I love movies. I would go all the time if I could. The problem is that I can't always find people to go with me--my friends don't want to see it, our schedules don't work out, things like that. So, there are a lot of movies I want to see but have to wait to rent because I don't want to go alone. I usually spend some time thinking that if I had a boyfriend or husband, I could just force him to go. In actuality, that would just be kind of mean. So, I decided that I should just go by myself if I really want to see a movie--who cares if other people think strange things about that girl alone at the movies. The truth is that she's just really psyched to be seeing this movie.) Aside completed, here are some highlights from my movie:
1)The theater I went to only costs $4.00 if you go before noon. I'm a cheap date!
2) Since it was my Valentine's Day, I was allowed to pay entirely too much for popcorn and Diet Coke. Yum!
3) There was a boy sitting in front of me with his mom. She kept leaning over and asking him questions about what was going on or what was going to happen. Finally, he said to her, in quite an exasperated tone, "This is absolutely NOTHING like the book mom, so I don't know!!" My kid is going to be just like that one day! (In his defense, they really did change a lot of things about the book, but, surprisingly, I still really enjoyed it.)
4) If you go to the movies alone, you aren't tempted to talk during the movie, and there is no one there to try and talk to you. More people should go to the movies alone!
5) After two hours, I emerged from the theater pretty much exactly the same as I was when I went in, so I am now one step closer to proving to myself that this whole idea that there are things you need someone else to do with you might not be all it's cracked up to be.
The moral of the story is that I will probably be going to the movies alone again. Probably soon. And probably before noon.
I made it home from my movie and decided to spend the rest of my afternoon catching up on my DVRed shows from the week, mainly The Bachelor, which I could comment on but won't. I finished up right in time to eat dinner with some friends and welcome the Southern Blizzard of 2010. One highlight from the blizzard is me trying to drive in the snow--not a good idea. I almost slid off the road on the way to my mom's. Then, I did slide off the road when I got to my mom's. I was headed towards the lake. Happy Valentine's Day to me. Thankfully, I stopped and left my car in my mom's backyard. Where it still is now.
I trudged inside and watched the Olympic Opening Ceremonies. (Because I am a total Olympics nerd and cannot wait to watch everything, and I mean everything; if it's the Olympics, I'm watching. I don't event discriminate. Curling? Watching it. Biathlon? Watching it. Cross-Country skiing? Totally watching it. I get drunk on the Olympics. For the next 16 days, I will be walking around in an Olympic-induced haze. I don't even let torch-lighting malfunctions lessen my excitement.)
Small snow slide aside, I had a pretty amazing day. I'm considering declaring several other days as unofficial Valentine's Days, so I can do it again!
I started my Valentine's Day celebration with a trip to one of my all time favorite places--Barnes and Noble. I was planning to go to Starbucks, but it was too crowded (and, if I'm honest with myself, I would rather be around all the books). Since Starbucks has oatmeal now, I was going to eat that for breakfast, but they don't have oatmeal at the Starbucks inside Barnes and Noble. I now had few breakfast options. The sensible one would have been a bagel. But, since it was my Valentine's Day, I was allowed to eat whatever I wanted. So I ate a red velvet cupcake for breakfast. It was amazing, and it totally set the tone for the rest of my day.
After spending some time at the B&N, I headed out to my first solo movie. I had grand visions of being the only person in the theater (since it was showing at 11:00 on a school day). I was wrong. It was actually really crowded--some school district other than mine must have had the day off. No worries, I wasn't going to let some kids ruin my Valentine's Day or lessen the pride I was feeling over my solo-movie victory. (Before I keep going, I feel like I just need to clear up why I wanted to go to a movie alone. I love movies. I would go all the time if I could. The problem is that I can't always find people to go with me--my friends don't want to see it, our schedules don't work out, things like that. So, there are a lot of movies I want to see but have to wait to rent because I don't want to go alone. I usually spend some time thinking that if I had a boyfriend or husband, I could just force him to go. In actuality, that would just be kind of mean. So, I decided that I should just go by myself if I really want to see a movie--who cares if other people think strange things about that girl alone at the movies. The truth is that she's just really psyched to be seeing this movie.) Aside completed, here are some highlights from my movie:
1)The theater I went to only costs $4.00 if you go before noon. I'm a cheap date!
2) Since it was my Valentine's Day, I was allowed to pay entirely too much for popcorn and Diet Coke. Yum!
3) There was a boy sitting in front of me with his mom. She kept leaning over and asking him questions about what was going on or what was going to happen. Finally, he said to her, in quite an exasperated tone, "This is absolutely NOTHING like the book mom, so I don't know!!" My kid is going to be just like that one day! (In his defense, they really did change a lot of things about the book, but, surprisingly, I still really enjoyed it.)
4) If you go to the movies alone, you aren't tempted to talk during the movie, and there is no one there to try and talk to you. More people should go to the movies alone!
5) After two hours, I emerged from the theater pretty much exactly the same as I was when I went in, so I am now one step closer to proving to myself that this whole idea that there are things you need someone else to do with you might not be all it's cracked up to be.
The moral of the story is that I will probably be going to the movies alone again. Probably soon. And probably before noon.
I made it home from my movie and decided to spend the rest of my afternoon catching up on my DVRed shows from the week, mainly The Bachelor, which I could comment on but won't. I finished up right in time to eat dinner with some friends and welcome the Southern Blizzard of 2010. One highlight from the blizzard is me trying to drive in the snow--not a good idea. I almost slid off the road on the way to my mom's. Then, I did slide off the road when I got to my mom's. I was headed towards the lake. Happy Valentine's Day to me. Thankfully, I stopped and left my car in my mom's backyard. Where it still is now.
I trudged inside and watched the Olympic Opening Ceremonies. (Because I am a total Olympics nerd and cannot wait to watch everything, and I mean everything; if it's the Olympics, I'm watching. I don't event discriminate. Curling? Watching it. Biathlon? Watching it. Cross-Country skiing? Totally watching it. I get drunk on the Olympics. For the next 16 days, I will be walking around in an Olympic-induced haze. I don't even let torch-lighting malfunctions lessen my excitement.)
Small snow slide aside, I had a pretty amazing day. I'm considering declaring several other days as unofficial Valentine's Days, so I can do it again!
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Clothes v. The New Neighbor Part 3
So my roommate took the puppy she is puppy-sitting outside. She was wearing her pajama pants. New neighbor totally saw her. (It is only fair for me to say that her pajama pants are plaid--and really cute--they don't have farm animals on them.) I am no longer alone in my clothes-and-new-neighbor embarrassment. Hooray!
You Know You're Single When....
You spend Valentine's weekend doing one of these two things:
1)Puppy-sitting: My roommate is keeping her best friend's puppy until Monday and stopping by another friend's house to feed a dog this weekend.
2)Baby-sitting: I'm baby-sitting this weekend.
People like to say that Valentine's Day is a card company holiday. But really, Valentine's Day is brought to you by single people. Without us, Valentine's Day would obviously not be possible.
Monday, February 8, 2010
It's Computer Time!
It's Monday! That means computer class again--get excited, I know I am. To start, here's a list of random things rattling around in my brain:
1) How excited am I that the Saints won the Super Bowl?? I have loved Drew Brees since I was in high school, so it was a pretty big night for me. It would have been bigger if I actually knew him, but whatever.
2) A student came into my first block class this morning and announced that he was going for the Colts last night because they have horseshoes on their helmets. This made me feel better about going for the Saints because I have a total crush on their quarterback.
3) How much did I love the Google commercial during the Super Bowl?? The one with Paris?? It was amazing. Sadly, most people probably didn't notice it because you had to read a lot.
4) I can spend 3 class periods going over rubrics, make a step-by-step instruction guide, give out an example (that I spend time making), and have in-class activities to practice every part of a project, but half my class will still ask what to do when we get to the library. I can make a PowerPoint with links to websites with primary sources and put it on my website so students can use the links, but they will spend an hour randomly Googling and then ask me how to find a primary source for their project. Seriously. I can't stand it. It is going to drive me to the brink. (I'm not sure of what--but I am now at some brink, somewhere, dangerously close to an edge.)
5) My class is at one of the high schools in my district. I just went to the bathroom and this was written on the back of the door: "i haven't truely smiled in over 2 years." My first thought was, "Wow, I hope that's not true." My second thought, the one from the English teacher in me, was, "Well maybe if you had paid attention in English class and knew to capitalize the 'i' and how to spell truly, you would have smiled sometime recently. My third thought was, "That would be an excellent opening line to a book. I should write it down in my journal."
6) It's Bachelor night! Part of me is very much excited. The other part of me is not because I know that Jake is totally going to keep Vienna and I am going to get really annoyed and lose all faith in men, which is what happens every season. I have hopes that Jake is different, but I think the fake blond hair and big boobs are just things that no man on a reality show can overcome. Have any of them every thought that their inability to see past dye jobs and chests could possible be the reason they aren't married??
7) My friend just told me a story. Here it is:
There was a boy in one of her college English classes. He was beautiful, and she would stare at him every class. She never talked to him. Now, he is famous--like in a movie famous--and is engaged Eva from America's Next Top Model (the winner of season 3).
My response:
If you had talked to him, you wouldn't be teaching right now because you would have a rich husband. You totally missed your chance.
8) I have a terrible headache--looking at a computer is making it worse. Boo. How weird would it be for me to put on my sunglasses? Because I totally just did. It helps; the lights in my classroom are too bright. But, I feel too stupid, so I took them off. Now I am just sitting at my computer feeling sick. Boo again.
Here's to another fabulous week (actually, it should be pretty great because I am totally taking a personal day Friday to celebrate Valentine's Day with myself).
1) How excited am I that the Saints won the Super Bowl?? I have loved Drew Brees since I was in high school, so it was a pretty big night for me. It would have been bigger if I actually knew him, but whatever.
2) A student came into my first block class this morning and announced that he was going for the Colts last night because they have horseshoes on their helmets. This made me feel better about going for the Saints because I have a total crush on their quarterback.
3) How much did I love the Google commercial during the Super Bowl?? The one with Paris?? It was amazing. Sadly, most people probably didn't notice it because you had to read a lot.
4) I can spend 3 class periods going over rubrics, make a step-by-step instruction guide, give out an example (that I spend time making), and have in-class activities to practice every part of a project, but half my class will still ask what to do when we get to the library. I can make a PowerPoint with links to websites with primary sources and put it on my website so students can use the links, but they will spend an hour randomly Googling and then ask me how to find a primary source for their project. Seriously. I can't stand it. It is going to drive me to the brink. (I'm not sure of what--but I am now at some brink, somewhere, dangerously close to an edge.)
5) My class is at one of the high schools in my district. I just went to the bathroom and this was written on the back of the door: "i haven't truely smiled in over 2 years." My first thought was, "Wow, I hope that's not true." My second thought, the one from the English teacher in me, was, "Well maybe if you had paid attention in English class and knew to capitalize the 'i' and how to spell truly, you would have smiled sometime recently. My third thought was, "That would be an excellent opening line to a book. I should write it down in my journal."
6) It's Bachelor night! Part of me is very much excited. The other part of me is not because I know that Jake is totally going to keep Vienna and I am going to get really annoyed and lose all faith in men, which is what happens every season. I have hopes that Jake is different, but I think the fake blond hair and big boobs are just things that no man on a reality show can overcome. Have any of them every thought that their inability to see past dye jobs and chests could possible be the reason they aren't married??
7) My friend just told me a story. Here it is:
There was a boy in one of her college English classes. He was beautiful, and she would stare at him every class. She never talked to him. Now, he is famous--like in a movie famous--and is engaged Eva from America's Next Top Model (the winner of season 3).
My response:
If you had talked to him, you wouldn't be teaching right now because you would have a rich husband. You totally missed your chance.
8) I have a terrible headache--looking at a computer is making it worse. Boo. How weird would it be for me to put on my sunglasses? Because I totally just did. It helps; the lights in my classroom are too bright. But, I feel too stupid, so I took them off. Now I am just sitting at my computer feeling sick. Boo again.
Here's to another fabulous week (actually, it should be pretty great because I am totally taking a personal day Friday to celebrate Valentine's Day with myself).
Saturday, February 6, 2010
Loving God
I'm a word person, so I find language--how people learn it and use it--fascinating. (Nerd--I know.) One thing I particularly like is how different groups of people have their own vocabularies.
When I worked at an insurance company, I learned all kinds of words like hospital indemnity, elimination period, procedure and diagnosis codes. Using these words labeled me as an insurance person. Despite my label, there was still a lot about insurance I didn't know or understand, so I wasn't really an insurance person. I just sounded like one.
When I became a teacher, I picked up all kinds of new words. IEP, 504, SAT (not the test--there's another one), MAP scores, RIT band--teachers are big on acronyms. Using these words labels me as a teacher. I'll be totally honest, last year I didn't really feel like a teacher at all. I feel a bit more like one now (and I did just pass my Praxis PLT, so I guess I am), but there are still a lot of areas where I don't.
I grew up in church, so I know a lot of church words. Words like grace, mercy, sin, salvation--even fancy ones like exegesis, hermeneutics, and escatology. Using these words labels me as a Christian.
I didn't do a lot of research on this, but I'm pretty sure there isn't a verse that says, "if you can use the word salvation correctly in a scholarly sentence, you will be saved." But I feel like that is our culture. If it walks like a Christian and talks like a Christian, it must be a Christian. We could not be more wrong.
If you've ever watched a movie (or a tv show or read a book) you know that we live in a culture of people really into signs. Like if you've ever seen Fools Rush In you know that Matthew Perry's character sees a little dog, a picture of the desert, Grey's Papaya hot dogs, and a little girl and knows he is supposed to end up with Salma Hayack's character. Over the past few months, I've gotten some signs.
Recently I started attending a new church. The first week I was there, the pastor was giving a sermon from Judges on the story of Samson. He said that "our overdesire for someone or something else is a symptom of our underdesire for God." Recently I started a small group Bible study that is reading Francis Chan's book Crazy Love. It is all about how we don't love God like we should. Recently I went to a women's conference with a friend where the speaker talked about how the church today doesn't really love the way God calls us to love. Here's what I learned:
I don't love God. Not really. Not like I should.
Don't get me wrong, I like God. I like the idea of going to heaven. I like that Jesus died for me; it makes me feel special.
It should make me feel broken. That's how bad I am. So bad that the only way to save me was for someone perfect to die. For God to die.
It should make me feel overwhelmingly grateful. That's how much He loves me.
It should make me full of love for Him back.
I don't need to fall in love with me, I need to fall back in love with God. Then I might get God's love for me, which, when it comes down to how I feel about being single and how hard I'm trying to love myself, is what I'm really missing.
When I worked at an insurance company, I learned all kinds of words like hospital indemnity, elimination period, procedure and diagnosis codes. Using these words labeled me as an insurance person. Despite my label, there was still a lot about insurance I didn't know or understand, so I wasn't really an insurance person. I just sounded like one.
When I became a teacher, I picked up all kinds of new words. IEP, 504, SAT (not the test--there's another one), MAP scores, RIT band--teachers are big on acronyms. Using these words labels me as a teacher. I'll be totally honest, last year I didn't really feel like a teacher at all. I feel a bit more like one now (and I did just pass my Praxis PLT, so I guess I am), but there are still a lot of areas where I don't.
I grew up in church, so I know a lot of church words. Words like grace, mercy, sin, salvation--even fancy ones like exegesis, hermeneutics, and escatology. Using these words labels me as a Christian.
I didn't do a lot of research on this, but I'm pretty sure there isn't a verse that says, "if you can use the word salvation correctly in a scholarly sentence, you will be saved." But I feel like that is our culture. If it walks like a Christian and talks like a Christian, it must be a Christian. We could not be more wrong.
If you've ever watched a movie (or a tv show or read a book) you know that we live in a culture of people really into signs. Like if you've ever seen Fools Rush In you know that Matthew Perry's character sees a little dog, a picture of the desert, Grey's Papaya hot dogs, and a little girl and knows he is supposed to end up with Salma Hayack's character. Over the past few months, I've gotten some signs.
Recently I started attending a new church. The first week I was there, the pastor was giving a sermon from Judges on the story of Samson. He said that "our overdesire for someone or something else is a symptom of our underdesire for God." Recently I started a small group Bible study that is reading Francis Chan's book Crazy Love. It is all about how we don't love God like we should. Recently I went to a women's conference with a friend where the speaker talked about how the church today doesn't really love the way God calls us to love. Here's what I learned:
I don't love God. Not really. Not like I should.
Don't get me wrong, I like God. I like the idea of going to heaven. I like that Jesus died for me; it makes me feel special.
It should make me feel broken. That's how bad I am. So bad that the only way to save me was for someone perfect to die. For God to die.
It should make me feel overwhelmingly grateful. That's how much He loves me.
It should make me full of love for Him back.
I don't need to fall in love with me, I need to fall back in love with God. Then I might get God's love for me, which, when it comes down to how I feel about being single and how hard I'm trying to love myself, is what I'm really missing.
Rooster in a Hen House
Whenever I watch The Bachelorette, I think about how great it would be to be the only girl in a room full of guys and have all their attention on me. I imagine that guys probably feel the same way about being in a room full of girls. Well, at least I thought that until today.
This morning, I went with a friend to hear a speaker at her church. Before the speaker, we had a time of praise and worship. My friend's boyfriend was singing and playing guitar. He played a show last night, and my friend told me this morning that they were out late. So, when I walked in and looked at him, he had that look that says, "I'm here, but not quite, because I'm still kind of asleep." I don't blame him--it was early, and I wasn't quite awake myself.
Now would be a good time to mention that we were attending a women's conference, and my friend's boyfriend was the only guy in the room. Seriously. The ONLY one--even the person running sound was a girl.
After they finished the worship set, my friend's boyfriend was packing up his stuff as the speaker came to the stage and started talking. She pointed out that he was the only guy around and told him he was welcome to stay if he wanted to. Then, she said this:
"You can stay, but since it is all girls, sooner or later I'm going to say something about boobs."
I'm not sure how awake he was before the word boobs came out of her mouth, but let me assure you it served as an alarm clock of sorts. He turned red and basically bolted from the room. Seriously, he ran. He ran pretty fast--with a guitar I might add, which was quite impressive.
I was slightly embarrassed for him, but it's hard to feel that bad for someone when you're laughing that hard. (It's also hard to feel bad for a guy who is dating someone as awesome as my friend is.) But, it's a good thing he got out when he did because she did eventually say something about boobs.
This morning, I went with a friend to hear a speaker at her church. Before the speaker, we had a time of praise and worship. My friend's boyfriend was singing and playing guitar. He played a show last night, and my friend told me this morning that they were out late. So, when I walked in and looked at him, he had that look that says, "I'm here, but not quite, because I'm still kind of asleep." I don't blame him--it was early, and I wasn't quite awake myself.
Now would be a good time to mention that we were attending a women's conference, and my friend's boyfriend was the only guy in the room. Seriously. The ONLY one--even the person running sound was a girl.
After they finished the worship set, my friend's boyfriend was packing up his stuff as the speaker came to the stage and started talking. She pointed out that he was the only guy around and told him he was welcome to stay if he wanted to. Then, she said this:
"You can stay, but since it is all girls, sooner or later I'm going to say something about boobs."
I'm not sure how awake he was before the word boobs came out of her mouth, but let me assure you it served as an alarm clock of sorts. He turned red and basically bolted from the room. Seriously, he ran. He ran pretty fast--with a guitar I might add, which was quite impressive.
I was slightly embarrassed for him, but it's hard to feel that bad for someone when you're laughing that hard. (It's also hard to feel bad for a guy who is dating someone as awesome as my friend is.) But, it's a good thing he got out when he did because she did eventually say something about boobs.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Hope in the Wills
So far this week I have found out that two people I know got engaged recently. Two. And it's Wednesday. I know it's God's plan for me to be single. I know it's what's best for me. I know. I know, but I don't feel.
Hebrews says that "faith is being sure of what we hope for, being convinced of what we do not see." So many times, I am reminded that faith is being convinced of what I do not feel.
I feel lonely. But I know that the Lord, my God, is with me wherever I go.
I feel lost. I feel aimless. But I know that God is working in me, and through me, to finish a good work He has started, a good work He has planned--even when I don't feel like He is doing much of anything.
I feel like I'm missing something. But I know my portion is the Lord and my hope is in Him.
Or at least my hope should be in Him. The more I thought about it, the more I started to realize that so often during my day, that's not really true of me. My hope is in 2:55 pm, when I get to dismiss my most difficult class. My hope is in a character in whatever book I'm reading. My hope is in the bubble bath I'm going to take that will make me feel better. My hope is in maybe one day I'll be cooking dinner for someone other than just me, watching a basketball game with someone sitting in the same room instead of with my little sister over the phone, learning to stop sleeping diagonally in my bed because I'm not the only one in it. My hope is in things that don't matter, won't last, might never happen.
My hope should be in the Lord. In His love for me. In His grace. In His salvation, my redemption. In Heaven. My hope should be in these things that do matter, will never change, will always last, will happen.
Is it any wonder that I feel let down and dissatisfied sometimes? I let myself live in a world of maybe, won't, and don't when I could be living in a world of will. Christ died so I could live in a world of will. It seems so simple, so obvious, yet it is often so hard to keep my eyes on what I know.
And it is at times like this that I'm reminded that the things most worth it are all too often the things that are hard.
All the afternoons I cry and go home feeling like a useless failure become worth it when a student smiles when they finally understand something. Or when it is so clear they feel proud of themselves for writing the correct MLA-formatted citation for something. Or when I get an e-mail from a parent saying their son or daughter likes to read now, and they think I had something to do with that.
All the times I miss my dad become worth it when I get to share my story with someone who is struggling or someone who doesn't know the Lord, the story of how He brought me through the one thing I never thought I could make it through. Or when I get to look at the three students I have this year who have lost a parent and know that maybe they don't feel so different anymore because they know that when their Language Arts teacher was in 7th grade she had felt what it's like to have a parent die, to have the uncertainty of the world dropped in your lap before you were old enough to know what to do with it. Or when I laugh with my little brother, who wouldn't be here if my dad still were, and who is a real, tangible example of tremendous blessing coming out of unimaginable darkness.
And I know that to my God, history's darkest day, when He turned His back on His own Son was worth it because that's what it took for our relationship to be reconciled. Even though I can't even come close to understanding that. I know that for God the death of His Son was worth it because that's how He saved me.
So while there are plenty of days when it is easier to feel sorry for myself, to complain, to wish for a different life because that's the way my sinful mind will wander when left unchecked, I know that it's not worth taking the easy way; while it may be hard and may take more energy to set my mind on things above--sometimes energy I don't think I have left--I know that it's worth it. Because choosing to hope in a will is always better than settling for hope in a maybe.
Hebrews says that "faith is being sure of what we hope for, being convinced of what we do not see." So many times, I am reminded that faith is being convinced of what I do not feel.
I feel lonely. But I know that the Lord, my God, is with me wherever I go.
I feel lost. I feel aimless. But I know that God is working in me, and through me, to finish a good work He has started, a good work He has planned--even when I don't feel like He is doing much of anything.
I feel like I'm missing something. But I know my portion is the Lord and my hope is in Him.
Or at least my hope should be in Him. The more I thought about it, the more I started to realize that so often during my day, that's not really true of me. My hope is in 2:55 pm, when I get to dismiss my most difficult class. My hope is in a character in whatever book I'm reading. My hope is in the bubble bath I'm going to take that will make me feel better. My hope is in maybe one day I'll be cooking dinner for someone other than just me, watching a basketball game with someone sitting in the same room instead of with my little sister over the phone, learning to stop sleeping diagonally in my bed because I'm not the only one in it. My hope is in things that don't matter, won't last, might never happen.
My hope should be in the Lord. In His love for me. In His grace. In His salvation, my redemption. In Heaven. My hope should be in these things that do matter, will never change, will always last, will happen.
Is it any wonder that I feel let down and dissatisfied sometimes? I let myself live in a world of maybe, won't, and don't when I could be living in a world of will. Christ died so I could live in a world of will. It seems so simple, so obvious, yet it is often so hard to keep my eyes on what I know.
And it is at times like this that I'm reminded that the things most worth it are all too often the things that are hard.
All the afternoons I cry and go home feeling like a useless failure become worth it when a student smiles when they finally understand something. Or when it is so clear they feel proud of themselves for writing the correct MLA-formatted citation for something. Or when I get an e-mail from a parent saying their son or daughter likes to read now, and they think I had something to do with that.
All the times I miss my dad become worth it when I get to share my story with someone who is struggling or someone who doesn't know the Lord, the story of how He brought me through the one thing I never thought I could make it through. Or when I get to look at the three students I have this year who have lost a parent and know that maybe they don't feel so different anymore because they know that when their Language Arts teacher was in 7th grade she had felt what it's like to have a parent die, to have the uncertainty of the world dropped in your lap before you were old enough to know what to do with it. Or when I laugh with my little brother, who wouldn't be here if my dad still were, and who is a real, tangible example of tremendous blessing coming out of unimaginable darkness.
And I know that to my God, history's darkest day, when He turned His back on His own Son was worth it because that's what it took for our relationship to be reconciled. Even though I can't even come close to understanding that. I know that for God the death of His Son was worth it because that's how He saved me.
So while there are plenty of days when it is easier to feel sorry for myself, to complain, to wish for a different life because that's the way my sinful mind will wander when left unchecked, I know that it's not worth taking the easy way; while it may be hard and may take more energy to set my mind on things above--sometimes energy I don't think I have left--I know that it's worth it. Because choosing to hope in a will is always better than settling for hope in a maybe.
Minute to Win It
I just saw a commercial for a show where people have to do seemingly simple tasks in under a minute. If they complete the task, they win a million dollars. The example from the commercial was pulling all the tissues out of a box only using one hand. My thoughts on this are as follows:
1) That has to be harder than it sounds--so I really want to try it just to see how many I could pull out. If I get bored enough one day, I just might. Or perhaps I will make some students do it....
2) Why do I spend all day teaching kids about writing and reading? Why am I planning to teach them one of my favorite poems tomorrow? They apparantly don't really need these skills. I should be teaching them quick tissue pulling techniques because apparantly the ability to pull tissues from a box is worth a million dollars. Teaching, however, is worth nowhere near this much since I come nowhere near making a million dollars a minute. Perhaps that explains a bit why people think it is a good idea to put shows like this on television. (There's a pretty big rant here, but I'll refrain.)
1) That has to be harder than it sounds--so I really want to try it just to see how many I could pull out. If I get bored enough one day, I just might. Or perhaps I will make some students do it....
2) Why do I spend all day teaching kids about writing and reading? Why am I planning to teach them one of my favorite poems tomorrow? They apparantly don't really need these skills. I should be teaching them quick tissue pulling techniques because apparantly the ability to pull tissues from a box is worth a million dollars. Teaching, however, is worth nowhere near this much since I come nowhere near making a million dollars a minute. Perhaps that explains a bit why people think it is a good idea to put shows like this on television. (There's a pretty big rant here, but I'll refrain.)
Monday, February 1, 2010
Computer Class....
So I have to take a technology class for my district. Last week we learned about typing in Microsoft Word and inserting pictures into a Word document. I typed my entry about my trash can and sheep pants fiasco. I can't wait to see what I do today, although I'm sorry to say, but sadly it's true, that nothing exciting happened to me this morning (plus I posted my story from last night already). Here is what I learned (or more correctly am learning....)
1) I have no patience for people who ask stupid questions. I answer stupid questions all day, so I really don't want to put up with them from adults for three hours. I guess I am being a little mean since I think a dumb question is something I know the answer to, but I explained the difference between fact and opinion to three seventh-grade students today. I have no more patience.
2) There are calculators on computers.
3) You can copy and paste on computers. Yeah, I know. It is amazing!
4) If Jake doesn't get rid of Vienna tonight on The Bachelor, I am going to throw a fit. It will
probably be bigger than the fit Ali vowed to throw last week, which, for the record, I am very much looking forward to. It is basically the only thing getting me through class.
5) You can change fonts, font sizes, color, and typeset (bold, italics, and underline).
6) I wish I had a boyfriend and a different cell phone service provider. My friend is texting her boyfriend right now. Since I don't have a boyfriend or AT&T, I am bored. She has a boyfriend and an iPhone. All I have is my stupid blog.
7) Perhaps I should not have mentioned my lack of patience. I had a youth leader when I was in school who would always say, "Jessica, don't pray for patience. Pray for wisdom. If you pray for patience, God will put you in a situation where you have to learn patience." I should have listened to her because now God has put me in a situation where I have to learn patience.
8) Macs cost more than PCs. But, here is my new reason for owning a Mac: A lot of the applications in Microsoft have the abbreviation MS at the beginning (MS Word, MS PowerPoint, etc.) MS are the last two letters in PMS, which no girl likes. Why do I want part of that coming up on my computer all the time?? Therefore, I have a Mac. (I have plenty of other reasons.)
9) It is hard to by happy you are single when you are playing Scrabble on your friend's iPhone and a text pops up from her boyfriend that says, ":) have i told you how beautiful you are lately?" I'm just trying to figure out what word to make when I am basically accosted by this. Now I am bored and lonely. Thanks friend and friend's boyfriend. My only other note on this is that if I ever get a boyfriend, he is going to have to properly punctuate his texts to me--capitalization and everything. Otherwise, I wouldn't find them sweet or romantic. Also, I made my friend respond with the fact that I just threw up on her phone (wishful thinking on my part because if I really threw up, I could go home).
10) I have not told myself today how beautiful I am. "Self," I say, "you are quite pretty." I might try to text this to myself later.
11) When I get home, I can have a glass of wine. This is exciting.
12) Some girl has really chapped lips right now because she left her Softlips sitting by the computer I'm using for class.
13) If you've read this far, first of all-thanks!, second of all-you are probably feeling as bored as I was.
I end this post filled with hope that class will end as well. According to the clock, I have 30 minutes to go.
1) I have no patience for people who ask stupid questions. I answer stupid questions all day, so I really don't want to put up with them from adults for three hours. I guess I am being a little mean since I think a dumb question is something I know the answer to, but I explained the difference between fact and opinion to three seventh-grade students today. I have no more patience.
2) There are calculators on computers.
3) You can copy and paste on computers. Yeah, I know. It is amazing!
4) If Jake doesn't get rid of Vienna tonight on The Bachelor, I am going to throw a fit. It will
probably be bigger than the fit Ali vowed to throw last week, which, for the record, I am very much looking forward to. It is basically the only thing getting me through class.
5) You can change fonts, font sizes, color, and typeset (bold, italics, and underline).
6) I wish I had a boyfriend and a different cell phone service provider. My friend is texting her boyfriend right now. Since I don't have a boyfriend or AT&T, I am bored. She has a boyfriend and an iPhone. All I have is my stupid blog.
7) Perhaps I should not have mentioned my lack of patience. I had a youth leader when I was in school who would always say, "Jessica, don't pray for patience. Pray for wisdom. If you pray for patience, God will put you in a situation where you have to learn patience." I should have listened to her because now God has put me in a situation where I have to learn patience.
8) Macs cost more than PCs. But, here is my new reason for owning a Mac: A lot of the applications in Microsoft have the abbreviation MS at the beginning (MS Word, MS PowerPoint, etc.) MS are the last two letters in PMS, which no girl likes. Why do I want part of that coming up on my computer all the time?? Therefore, I have a Mac. (I have plenty of other reasons.)
9) It is hard to by happy you are single when you are playing Scrabble on your friend's iPhone and a text pops up from her boyfriend that says, ":) have i told you how beautiful you are lately?" I'm just trying to figure out what word to make when I am basically accosted by this. Now I am bored and lonely. Thanks friend and friend's boyfriend. My only other note on this is that if I ever get a boyfriend, he is going to have to properly punctuate his texts to me--capitalization and everything. Otherwise, I wouldn't find them sweet or romantic. Also, I made my friend respond with the fact that I just threw up on her phone (wishful thinking on my part because if I really threw up, I could go home).
10) I have not told myself today how beautiful I am. "Self," I say, "you are quite pretty." I might try to text this to myself later.
11) When I get home, I can have a glass of wine. This is exciting.
12) Some girl has really chapped lips right now because she left her Softlips sitting by the computer I'm using for class.
13) If you've read this far, first of all-thanks!, second of all-you are probably feeling as bored as I was.
I end this post filled with hope that class will end as well. According to the clock, I have 30 minutes to go.
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