New Comic!

I'm cracking myself up with this one. I probably look like GiGi LaFleur when I made it up #noshame

CELEBRATE GOOD TIMES

COME ON!

I didn't even realize it but since I posted that blog earlier today, I have now officially made at least one post for a year! Every month in 2013 has at least one post! This is the first year that this has happened! I'm so excited!

Well, I Don't Care too Much for Money...

Money can't by me love :)

I was perusing Pinterest one day and I stumbled upon this picture, claiming to save SO much money over one year!



See, they wow you by the simplicity of starting out, saying that first month you have to put back only ONE DOLLAR and then shows you how much you'd save if you just increase that by one dollar each week for the year! That's almost $1400 dollars wow isn't this easy?!

Well...good question. In the grand scheme of things, is $52 that much? That's the most their asking you to set back!

Well here's my question: If that's not too much to set back, why aren't you setting it back every week? Let's talk if you get paid once every two weeks. That first paycheck you only have to set back $3. That last paycheck you have to set back $103. I'm very curious as to where that extra $100 is going to come from...I don't know about you but I don't make enough to set $100 back with any paycheck.

Call me crazy but if you have $100 that you can set back each paycheck, you should be setting that back, not only $3 because some challenge told you that's all you need to set back. Think about it this way: Would you rather have $1400 in savings or $5200 in savings?

I win ^_^

Here are MY tips (translate: the tips my mother is begging to drill into my head) for saving money:

1) If your goal is just to build a savings, set back 10% of each paycheck. Put it in an account that you can't/won't touch. I make approximately $1600 a month currently. If I set 10% back for a year, I would have $1560 in savings. Not only is that more than this 52 week challenge, but it's a fixed rate. Fixed things are easier to get used to, we like those.

2) Know what needs to get paid each month and WHEN. If you have a rent payment, a car payment, cell phone bills, insurance, know when each thing is due and what paycheck needs to be allocated for it. Knowing what you need to have money for will help curb your desire to spend recklessly. If you need to, write it down. Keep it on your fridge, on your car visor, in your phone, wherever you need to in order to make your spending a conscious action.

3) A late/missing a payment is not worth bad credit. period. end of story.

4) It is a lot easier to consciously spend by paying in cash rather than with a debit/credit card. First, paying in cash means you have to get cash, meaning to have to make the conscious effort to go to your bank or ATM. Then when spending, you physically see how much money you started with and how much you have after your spending. It might make you think twice about if you really need that candy bar at the check out or not.

5) Have a coin collect jar. The good thing about paying in cash is that you get change back. Have a bowl or jar where you put all your change to collect, and then come up with a fixed time (i.e.: twice a year, on your birthday, only when it's full, etc) to cash it in. My mom always said use this money on something nice/fun for yourself. If you think about it, this is your savings (well, hopefully not all of it). While the big savings can be for those big important purchases, this savings can be for you.

6) Don't be discouraged if it takes time for everything to mesh well together. There will be months where you can't put 10% into savings because your car broke down or you needed a new dishwasher. Don't let those bad months stop you from saving all together.

7) Put back what you can, when you can. Even if it's just $15, in the grand scheme of things, every dollar counts.

Hopefully you'll find these to be more practical and a better use of your paycheck.

Plus ou Moins

So this past month with both teaching 40+ hours and working 20+ hours a week, I have noticed some interesting things about my body, both good and bad. 

On the negative side, I have noticed that my body no longer recognizes different levels of fatigue. Either I'm tired or I'm not. You'd think this would be a good thing...except for if I get 7 hours of sleep, I'm just as tired as if I had only gotten 3 hours of sleep. Man that's four hours I could have been grading or lesson planning or working for money...but no, I had to sleep for apparently no reason since my body can't tell the difference. 

However on the positive side, I no longer have to take sleeping pills to get to sleep. As it is, the last time I did take sleeping pills it actually took me longer to get to sleep than naturally sleeping. Can't say I'm complaining about that!

When we evaluated my workload, we were sure that my immune system was going to crash. As it is, I'm extremely lucky that it hasn't. For the past week or so, I have been on the verge of getting sick. My nose hasn't been affected, but I've been achy, headache, sneezing, sore throat, etc. well, whenever this has occurred, I have taken a multi-vitamin and some ibuprofen, and gone to sleep. And when I've woken up, although tired, I don't feel sick. Now granted, this is obviously a temporary fix since this is almost every night where I'm taking the pills to avoid sickness the next day. But hey! If it's working, I'm going with it!

Stream of Consciousness P.2

If someone wanted to ruin my life forever, all they would have to do is render my nose useless. I'd go insane breathing only through my mouth. 

I wish it were socially acceptable to hang out with some of my students on a friends basis. 

The most annoying things you can do: leave the hallway light on or leave the exhaust fan in the bathroom on. I'll get angry 0-60 in .2 seconds. 

I'm pretty sure that the more I think about how I can't get to sleep, the less likely I am to sleep. 

I'll barely post on social media for a while, and then all of a sudden make a bajillion posts. Overcompensating?

There are still common English words that I don't know how to pronounce. Bravado, bossum, canapes, definitively, nasalization, accompanist, and photographer to name a few. 

I already know I'm going to get judged for my above list. Don't get me wrong: I know what each word means, and once I spend time thinking about each word I can say them out loud. But if I'm reading blank in a sentence without reading ahead I'm guaranteed to mispronounce them. 

There are times where I don't know if my students are laughing at me or with me. 

I'm not afraid of what my friends think about me dating Chris again. But I might be a little anxious to hear what they say of we get engaged...

Never in my life have I craved wine this much. 

Teaching is hard work. The physical amount of effort I put into teaching six classes worth of students is exhausting. Worth it, but exhausting. 

Don't Go To Bed Angry

Wen I was younger my sister and I used to fight all the time. It was typical sister fights...nothing too bad or worse than anything else. My dad always said "don't go to bed angry". My mother was a little bit more morbid, cornering us when we were silently pushing each other out of the way to see the mirror while we were brushing our teeth, and she'd say "you wake up tomorrow after having fought the night before and find your sister dead. How do you feel now?" Both parents found ways to get us to resolve our issues before they got more out of hand. It's definitely a good lesson to have in my back pocket whenever I need it, be it with my current family or the one I start in the future. 

Oh How the Times Change

13-year-old me would be so proud. 

I used to say I don't wear make-up because I don't like the time it takes and I'd rather do something else (namely, sleeping, eating breakfast, doing homework, etc) and that whole "a guy who only likes me because I do my make-up isn't a guy I'm interested in, blah blah blah, all those anicdotes to make me sound better for NOT participating in something. 

Well once I started teaching, I realized that it definitely looks more professional when I do my make-up...otherwise it truly looks like I just rolled out of bed (although that's typically true too) :P

I just realized that I have my make-up perfected in less than five minutes. I honestly didn't think that would ever happen. 

Cheers!

Work Rant Part 1

I recently just doubled my work load. I'm legitimately doing twice the work I was doing the first half of the semester. It was hard to make this decision because I didn't want to overextend myself and I wanted to make sure my priorities were where they needed to be. I ended up agreeing to the work surplus because in the long run I thought it was the best move for me. Even though it's only just begun, I know it's the right move. There is one thing that I didn't take into consideration that I should have...because it would have made my decision that much easier: I love what I do. A coworker of mine reflected saying that he didn't feel like he was "working" because of how much he enjoyed his job. I realized a couple of days ago that it's the same for me. I feel like I'm in my nitch...that I'm where I'm supposed to be. The crazy hours and the lack of sleep  aren't even a factor right now. I don't go to work with my staff. I go home and work with my family :)

One of My Best Memories

I understand that this will sound lame to most, but this is truly something that I cherish and hope to never take for granted.

One of my favorite childhood memories was growing up with the Harry Potter franchise. Now don't get me wrong, I'm not one of those people who read the books before they became popular, or before the movie series was announced. Unfortunately, I wasn't that cool. My parents bought my brother the first book when he was in 6th grade so that he'd have something to do when we were on the plane going on spring break. I was in 4th grade at the time, and I believe the movie series had just been announced, and only four of the books had been published thus far. My brother actually had to have the book taken away from him, because if it wasn't, he would have finished it before the plane even took off! Once we got back from break, my parents bought the other three books published in the series and he started to read them, encouraging me and my sister to do the same.

I started to read the first one, but when I put it down my sister picked it up. Do you know how hard it is to share a book series with two siblings? Not to mention the parents although they were patient enough to wait for us to finish first :P Anyway, I actually didn't finish the first book before the first movie. I actually finished the SECOND book before I finished the first. It didn't matter being out of order, though, because I had fallen in love.

And that's the best part of the memory, falling in love not just with one book or one author, but with a series that captivates you from the start and leaves you CRAVING for more, even a half decade after the last book was published. I went to midnight releases for the books AND the movies! I remember reading the fifth book at my sister's softball games. I remember not being able to talk to my siblings or my friends for a good week because we didn't want to spoil anything for anyone. I remember bashing the movies for getting certain parts of the books wrong, but still loving the movies almost as much of the books for identifying so well with their target audience that I felt like they were made for ME.

Like I said, the books have been published for years. The movies have been out for years. And I still look back and read and watch them. I can honestly say I've never had another series affect me like this, and I truly feel like my childhood would be missing something if I hadn't partaken in this adventure. I honestly fear that my children will never be able to feel a joy that comes close to what that series made me feel.

For Granted

There are some times where I forget how absolutely awesome it is to be able to speak, write, and comprehend French. Because seriously, to have this skill, it's not something that I can understand not having. It's that much a part of me. Which I still to this day think is pretty darn amazing.

A Letter

Dear [Best] Friend,

I know you don't understand our friendship. I know you don't understand why I make a big deal about talking or making a comment every time I see you. You probably think I'm some loony who makes you feel uncomfortable, although I certainly hope not. What I don't think you know is how much I love having you talk back with me, especially since you didn't used to. I love hearing what you have to say, answering your questions, and laughing with you. I love joking around with you. I just wish I could touch you. The fact that you hugged me before you left the first time made my heart flutter ten times over...I wished I could have hugged you today. Every time I saw you these past days...I could not stop smiling. Are you aware how you affect me? I want to drop everything for you. I want to run away with you. I know that if you were reading this and knew it was about you, you'd be blushing the deepest shade of red and couldn't look me in the eye.

I have a student that reminds me of you. I wanted to tell you this weekend but didn't know how to bring it up without sounding awkward (because none of this post is awkward at all...). I didn't realize he reminded me of you until I saw you were coming home and was able to feel the same emotion for both you and him. It makes me want to be twice as close to him in hopes that it somehow keeps me linked to you.

I know that we'll always have the friendship we currently have without it becoming more than what it already is. I am prepared for that. My fantasies only keep you close to me, in hopes that maybe one day we can get of work and actually say two words to each other.

If I could have any wish it would be for you to think fondly of me when you were away...and then do something about it when you return.

Until next time

That

I need to let someone know I took out seven THAT's from my previous post because I am now self conscious about THAT habit. Thanks a lot

Cough cough. 

Guys, I Figured It Out

Ok, so I'm not saying I play favorites as a teacher. I give all my students the same opportunities. But, there are obviously some students I relate to and get along with better than others. This is natural. I have a soft spot for one student in one of my classes. I could never pinpoint the trait or quality that gave me the soft spot for this student, I just really really wanted him to succeed and understand my lessons. 

Just now, as in less than five minutes ago, I realized how much this student reminds me of my BEST FRIEND from work. Legitimately. I just found out best friend was coming home from college to work this week of fall break, and the emotions that came out were exactly the same ones for my student, and all of a sudden it clicked. 

This just shows how much I missed my best friend. He needs to come home more often :)

Reflections to a Friend

Dearest,

It's hard to accept that I was beat to the punch. Near the end that's exactly how I felt though I'd never admit it. You were the one that took control and made things ultimately for the better, not me. It's easy to be resentful because of it, but almost two years later I'm thinking maybe it was the best thing for us.

See, we never had closure. I'm wondering what closure was needed, as it seemed you and I would never again see eye to eye. It felt like we were blaming each other for our own mistakes rather than taking responsibility and making corrections as needed. Seeing that door ultimately close, both physically and virtually, made connections possible...but we both knew I would never take the hit of my pride to reach out to you.

That's how it had always been. I'd hurt you, I'd hurt myself by hurting you, yet I'd still expect you to reach out to me and get the ball rolling. For a long time we were always able to rely on that because it was a system that worked well enough for both of us...even though it wasn't fair. You just happened to be a good enough person to be a friend before being right. I should have learned that...maybe I did it just took me a while.

The saying goes "bros before hos; sisters before misters"...and on paper it's obvious that's where our downfall was. In an ideal world we'd each coexist in our social group and in our intimate group harmoniously. Well on both sides that never worked for either of us. There are a thousand "what if" scenarios that maybe just maybe we could have fixed any damage that had been done...but if that happened, would I be here now, coming to the revelation I have?

...now of course that I've stated it, it's supposed to now be this grandiose thing, which it's not. We've not spoken in almost two years, what's to say that should even change, let alone can even change? Is it sad that there are times I do or see something and you're the first person I want to tell? Or that there are quirks that we honed in on and made our own that still rest with me today (What's this? I don't know, but here goes another one...). I suppose in the past couple of months I've noticed a decline in spite within myself. It sucks to admit that there was spite in the first place, but like I said earlier you beat me to the punch...almost like you beat me at my own game. But more and more that's not what I think of when I think of you. More happy reminiscing...more laughing at the good times rather than holding onto the bad.

I have no idea what you're doing with your life right now. I don't know what track you're on, career, education, or otherwise. I don't know what your status is, what your current goals are, or even what color your hair currently is. I could probably navigate my way through social networking sites to find answers to these but I don't think I would be satisfied with the knowledge. I'm fairly certain I want my best friend back rather than just knowing about her.

boo hoo, Emma wants her best friend back, the one she pushed away and didn't attempt to contact for two years, big whoop. Karma's a bitch, am I right? It's possible that this will do nothing but create a funny story for those around you. It's possible this will go unread and unheard. It's possible that this will bring back two years of resentment and give me the worst kind of closure. Or maybe it's possible that this could open a door a crack and let there be a possibility for communication. Part of me wishes that I wasn't writing this right now because I haven't developed my thoughts to create a well-rounded letter...I'm pretty sure this looks like it was typed by a 5th grader. But at the same time it's so easy for me to over-think my feelings that maybe this is the only way I can get true feelings across, butchered syntax and all?

I don't want fake happiness, fake welcome, or fake tan (lol). No cuts, no buts, no coconuts. Straight A's, World Peace, and Brad Pitt (lightly buttered). I'd love some inspiration to write an actual blog post that reaches the eyes of millions...oh wait that's not what this is about...oops.

I want...your attention. Please yell if you're paying attention.

Please yell...

Please yell...

Please yell...


I truly hope you're doing well with whatever you're doing. I hope you're happy. I hope you're surrounded by those you love and those who love you in return. I hope you've found the spiritual relationship that works best for you and I hope you're still as funny, quirky, charismatic, impulsive, loving, and strong as my memories of you.

Until next time,
~Me

I Was Going To Freak Out

Because I try and have at least one post a month on her. And while I've been exceedingly busy, I had a strike of guilt when I remembered it was now October and I did not remember blogging in September.

BUT HA! I WAS WRONG! I DID BLOG IN SEPTEMBER! WHAT NOW!

...I understand no one cares about this but me, but hey, it's something right?

I'm going to post my teaching reflections on here at some point. Granted I'll make the dates make sense so then this post will look crazy because I'll magically have more posts in September, but just roll with it, ok?

:) If nothing else, I'm good for this month too! :P

And Here's To You - Chapter 4

I got to the parking lot of the antique bookstore and head in, seeing my boss already atop a ladder trying to get a first edition Hemingway for a customer. He heard the bell chime as I walked in. “Elaina! So good to see you! I have a list of books that need to be rotated…”

Thomas Henderson was a senile old man who had owned this store for decades. He spent his early years trekking around the east coast and Europe tracking down old books to add to his collection. Once he settled down to get married and have kids, he opened this store to pay the bills for his family. Even though he has grandkids in different states and his wife past seven years ago, he stayed in town with his store to bring the joy of books to this modern technology generation.

I was one of two employees he hired to help him keep things smooth. I mainly did the administrative work that he never seemed to grasp. When I first got hired his receipts were all in shoeboxes with no cataloging or filing system in place. Although I do get up on the ladder sometimes to help customers, that is mostly Kennedie’s job. She’s his granddaughter, from his one son that stayed in town to make sure he was still moving about and didn’t need to be placed in a home. Kennedie grew up hearing the stories of how Thomas got each book and was able to use those sentimental pieces to sell them. Her technique was flawless and something to be admired by anyone was a clue about sales. I typically just sat in the back office mumbling to myself about how he Thomas might be able to keep from being audited if he had a sentimental story to share with the IRS.

As I start my work, I can’t help but feel my mind wander back to the events of the last couple days. My life just seems to be on repeat: summer day in, summer day out. Parents fight, I run next door. You’d think someone who was angry enough by all of this would try and not let it affect them, right? It would be so much easier not to care. But then again it would also be easier just to leave and start over, but for some reason I wasn’t doing that either.

Am I really staying in town for college for Cameron? It was an answer I refused to find only because I knew how easily I could convince myself that I was. I had the grades to go to any state-funded school, and I had sports to get me scholarships if I wanted to go private, but instead I only applied to the school in town. I got in, and that was that. I tuned out the rest of senior year and I tried to ignore all of my classmates and their excited chatter for the future.

Stop it. I jolt out of my memory. Acceptance and change; those are your two options. You don’t waste time and emotions on things you can’t accept or change. I quickly get out of the office and look for Kennedie to start rotating those books.

*~*~*~*

Every night starts the same.

I try not to need him. I try and find the strength in myself to handle everything that’s going on in my life. I try and tune out the copious amounts of arguments I hear each night from the depths of my parents’ bedroom. I try every mechanism I know to keep myself from going back into Cam’s arms. Or worse…

I look to the top left desk drawer across from my bed. Even though I haven’t opened that drawer for months, I know exactly what the contents are. I know that in the back corner, where no one would see if they just opened the drawer not knowing what to find. The box of razor blades was inconspicuous for a reason; I had no intention of letting anyone know how I used to cope with reality before Cam.

Every night was a constant battle. Which was the lesser evil: Relying on someone to keep you from falling and not knowing how to exist without that someone there; or using physical pain as a distraction from mental and emotional pain? Years of practice showed me where to cut so I could wear clothes typical for the season without being questioned as well as how deep to cut to cause the biggest distraction without the biggest risk of needing medical attention. If you looked at my arms they were lean and tan as much as any other softball player’s. But, if you looked at the side of my knees, or the front of my shoulder, you would see a series of slightly raised scars. Some were over four years old; others were just under three months. Once Cam and I started using each other, he became my distraction. But the longer we used each other, the more I knew I was starting to depend on him. And the longer that was in my mind, the more appealing my old option became.

But each night I had the internal debate and each night I found myself in bed with Cameron. Because I knew that it wasn’t just me using him; he was using me as well. And if I decided to stop, he was losing a distraction for no reason, and I couldn’t be that selfish. So even when I’ve taken the box out and been poised for the first cut, I’ve always found myself putting with back without marring my skin and tapping on his window.

It had been a bad night. After work I had gotten home and my dad was already there but my brother was not. I was about to make a split second decision to keep driving past my house and pretend I got caught up at work when I saw my mom look out the window and smile when she saw my car. So I had to park and slowly climb up the stairs to the front door where she greeted me with open arms. “Elaina! You’re just in time; your father is getting the chicken off the grill!” She had a tone about her voice that she was excited about our family dinner. I still don’t understand her optimism.

I walked through the house. “Where’s Eli?”

“Oh he’s just running a bit late,” she replied. “Why don’t you go change out of your work clothes and come back down, and then your brother will be back and then we’ll eat!”

I start trudging up the stairs without responding. Even though I wasn’t surprised by my brother’s absence, it unnerved me. Edward was slightly more tolerable when Eli was around. I heard the back door slam shut and a hoarse male voice call for my mother. Yep, it was going to be a long night.

We had a mostly silent dinner up until when Eli came banging through the front door. Both of my parents looked up at him, but only one was welcoming. “Eli, honey, come and grab—“

“Where the HELL do you think you’ve been!?” My father boomed. “You knew dinner started a half an hour ago and you were expected to be here.”

Eli just shrugged and headed for the stairs. “Wasn’t hungry” was all he said and then he disappeared to his room.

Edward was turning puce and looked like a vein was about to burst in his forehead. “If I had a right mind I’d go up there and whip his ass…”

My mother turned to her husband and pats his hand. “He had asked to go out and I let him. So he’s a little late; he’s home now. No harm, no fowl.”

Edward jerked away from her touch. “You’re a terrible parent if you think that behavior is acceptable. Every time he disobeys you, you need to whip him. See if he comes home late after that…”

I looked down at my plate. I knew I was pale and my appetite was completely dissolved. Keeping my head bowed I took it to the sink and cleaned it quickly and quietly, slipping away to my room as soon as possible, where I was now trying not to open that top drawer of my desk.

I was sitting on my hands and slightly rocking on my bed to keep me from jumping up and opening the drawer. I was trying to think of every single Spanish verb conjugation I knew to distract me. I was trying to remember all the logic behind not cutting myself and promoting a healthier lifestyle. All of these distractors were barely keep me from cutting, adding the reminder of my father’s abuse to me as a child, and then it became near impossible. Tears were brimming on my eyelids and I was almost at a breaking point when my phone buzzed, illuminating the small part of my bed as it did so. I looked at the screen:

Resistance is futile ;-) -Cam

And just like that, I saw nothing else. My tunnel vision was only on my phone and my next destination: his window.

A Modest Engagement

So we just got done eating little Irish babies and I noticed more and more the comments that my husband would make about my weight. Each day I looked in the mirror and I didn't notice anything different from the previous days. And of course, my friends tried exceedingly hard to get the idea out of my mind that I was indeed gaining weight. It got to the point where I would stand on the scale daily just to have the empirical evidence if I was gaining weight or not. There was some gain here, some loss there, but it was never something bad enough that I thought deserved the comments my husband was making. After several months of this, I couldn't go a day without wondering if maybe there was some truth to my husband's claims.

Ok, so I had had a bad spell where I was eating maybe a bit more babies that I used to. Actually I had been doing pretty well about not eating a lot, but one day I just gorged myself. That was my fault, I'll admit, but I worked hard to show that it was a one time thing, not a new normal. But then, I noticed when my husband made babies he would put more on my plate than I would normally give myself. As he was on the one serving me I didn't want to be disrespectful and not eat them. Yet, even though he was the one that was serving me, he would still make the comments about my weight. You'd think that someone who felt that strongly about my weight would either go out of his way to keep me from consuming that much food, or at least let me take control of the situation so I could monitor it all myself. But no, instead he was heaping all the meat on my plate, and then still complaining about how much weight I was gaining!

My husband made me fat.

It soon became an extremely sore subject. If he made a comment I tried to tune him out, which then spawned an argument about how disrespectful I was being, especially since he was being so generous, going out of his way to make sure I had more than enough to eat. I mean, how can you spitefully say "WELL WHY ARE YOU MAKING SURE I DON'T STARVE"? You just don't, you know? But I didn't ask for it and who knows? Maybe a little starving would have done me some good...

Now I'm trying to take control of how much meat I'm eating. I've just now gotten down to a weight that is acceptable for both me and my husband. Except if I've had a long day and want to treat myself, maybe put a tiny bit more on my plate than I had in previous nights, or maybe go all out and heap it on but vow not to do that for another three months...we get into another argument. He absolutely won't hear me when I say it's a one-off, not the start to a pattern. "They all start as one-offs", he'll say, "and then you have so many one-offs they'll accumulate and you'll be back to being as fat as you were!" I mean, how can I prove to him that I can control myself and lead a normal life without him bringing up my past? Yes, I understand my past is rocky, but I didn't ask him to help the way he did, he made that decision on his own! I would have figured it out on my own, but he just took it upon himself to serve my meals and look where it got us.

Men...am I right?

Having Fun with French Idioms

I am having exceedingly too much fun working with online comics and making scenarios for French idioms. Really it should be illegal how much fun I'm having. Think Amelia Bedilia, but French. It's amazing. Now I want to share my fun!

 

If you want to check out my strips feel free to click here!

CENSORSHIP!

I am in a pickle.

Not literally, of course. Although that might be pretty delicious...

Anyway, I'm trying to censor all of my social media to be "school appropriate". Now it's not like my media has been necessarily INappropriate, but just making sure that if a teacher or principal were to google me they wouldn't find anything that could cost me a job.

Everything has been pretty easy to just tighten the privacy settings and go from there. But then I get to this blog, and I don't know what to do. This blog is an outlet for me to say what's on my mind in a safe and constructive (at least more so than yelling at someone) manner.

There are parts of this blog that are raw 100% pieces of me. There are also parts that are one time feelings and emotions that do not reflect how I see things generally but it was necessary for me to express what I was feeling at the time. Is it possible that something in here could make or break a teaching opportunity for me?

These are the questions I need answers to...

Holy Shit

Pardon my French...

...even though it was English...

But seriously, take a few minutes to watch this video. Legitimately, this is almost a necessary task. Your mind will be blown and you will not know what to do, except maybe rewatch this video and then tell the world about it.

The Innovation of Loneliness from Shimi Cohen on Vimeo.

Take a minute for it to digest, I've got time.

Ready? Ok good.



...like seriously this makes me want to delete all social media.

On Facebook I have 648 "Friends"
On Twitter I have 93 "Followers"
On Instagram I have 60 "Followers"
Start adding the lesser medias like my blogs, google plus, youtube, skype, and god knows what, and I have multiple social circles that don't completely overlap any of the others. Of course then you have your contacts in your phone for texting, e-mailing, facetiming, etc and so forth and we've got even more circles and even fewer real connections.

My mind is blown. Blown completely away. I've made the realization before that I don't know what I'd do without my phone, and I've always been fine with it because I knew I'd never live in a society again where I wasn't expected to have one. It just seems silly to have a pile of things like a book, and a crossword, and a newspaper, and an allotted time slot to catch up with friends, and a deck of cards, an address book, a map, an alarm clock, and everything we use it for...when we could just have a smart phone BOOM it's all there and takes up less room than a TV remote control.

I think there are some unconscious parts of me that are trying to get back to the basics of it all. I'm in the beginning parts of a relationship with this guy and I haven't made it public knowledge because I want this relationship to be built on how we perceive each other and our feelings and emotions that surround it, not based on how others perceive us and what they can view through social media. I have friends that post every gory detail of their lives, personal and otherwise, on social media. I have friends who consider it a past time to look up these gory details of others' lives, personal or otherwise. I mean, come on, how in the world is it ok to "Facebook Stalk" someone. Can we get virtual restraining orders, is that a thing now? Oh wait, it's just called changing your privacy settings and only being friends with the people that you actually consider friends, not ones you're acquainted with and want to put your nose in their business just for the sake of doing so.

I'm a total control freak that feels better when I know everything. I could never be the "blissfully ignorant" one...not in a million years. That makes me hesitate actually deleting all social media. But then again...if I could make myself believe that I could be happier without it, maybe it would be something to look into.

Guiltless Pasta Salad!

My family always loved having pasta salad in the summer, especially with burgers, hot dogs, and most all grilling items. My mother started shying away from it because of how many carbs were in the pasta and put that on top of buns, fries, potatoes, you name it. I actually just got done making it and I realized that this recipe can be so much better, especially for those who want to make sure they're not just adding more carbs to their meal!

Guiltless Pasta Salad

What you may not be able to tell from the picture is the sheer amount of vegetables in this pasta salad. And that's only using what's in my fridge; there are so many more to put in!

The trick is to get the ratio right. for each serving of pasta you want a serving of vegetables. Variety is key, as are the extras you add to make it taste like you're eating a regular pasta salad, not a whole bunch of veggies.

Here's what I did:

-1 box (12 oz) Rainbow Rotini (adding spinach and tomato to the pasta)
-1/2 bottle (8 oz) Zesty Italian Dressing (low sodium options if possible)
-6-8 oz carrots, chopped finely
-16 oz sugar snap peas, chopped finely
-8 oz turkey pepperoni, chopped finely

1. Cook pasta in boiling water for 9 minutes.
2. Using a chopper, grater, or really awesome knife skills to chop your vegetables to your liking of thickness.
3. After straining the pasta, combine all ingredients in a bowl. Chill for two hours and serve cold.

Pretty simple, right? A serving of pasta is 2 oz, or about a half cup. And for every half cup of pasta, there's a half cup of vegetables. Adding the pepperoni with the Zesty Italian dressing helps keep the flavor strong and less vegetable...y.

Other vegetables you can add:
Cauliflower (Which my family usually adds, we just didn't have any today)
Peppers (I wouldn't use a lot because they are strong and can overpower the taste)
Bean Sprouts
Cherry Tomatoes
Broccoli
Scallions (Again, don't use so much because of the strength of the flavor)
Black Olives

There are some times where we'll add cheese to the dish. Either small cubes of cheddar or colby jack, or the powdered Parmesan cheese.

It's a healthier alternative to your standard barbeque pasta salad, and a nice change for those who try and eat vegetables daily without feeling like a rabbit. Like I said, it's a huge hit at my house!

And Here's To You - Chapter 3

I wake up again without an alarm around 9:00am to the smell of sweet dough frying downstairs. Whenever my mother is trying to distract herself, we find her making something in the kitchen. Thank goodness she’s a spectacular cook, so I get myself ready for the day and head downstairs.

My brother has a plate stacked high with brown-sugar donuts in front of him, and crumbs surrounding him showing that he’s already helped himself to a few. I grab a plate from the cabinet and sit down next to him. “Morning,” I say, and he grunts back a reply.

“Is it really too hard to say good morning,” My mother questions. She comes over to the table with four more donuts and kisses my forehead before sitting down. She was a strong woman, an optimist through and through.

“I’m not big into seeing the future” I retort sarcastically. Secretly I enjoy the positive spin my mother can seemingly put on any situation, but it never kept the realist in me from coming out. “If it turns out into a bad morning, my good morning wish will have been in vain. But if it turns out to be a good morning, then it’s a happy surprise.” I take a bite of donut and a bout of sweetness takes over my mouth. I’m certainly glad she’s a fantastic cook.

“Smartass” my brother mumbled.

“Language!” My mother was roller her eyes when she said it. “Is it really that hard to keep your mouth clean around your mother?”

My brother didn’t reply. In fact, I had noticed now that he had become much quieter in the past year than ever before. We used to get into wicked fights growing up for no other reason than we could. These days he kept more to himself or at least tried to get out of the house and away from family as much as possible. Since I was basically doing the same thing, I couldn’t say that I blamed him. However, it hadn’t stopped me from socializing with family when the peace allowed it.

He got up from the table and put his plate in the sink. “The JV team is scrimmaging today. A couple buddies and me were gonna watch if that’s ok?” He phrased it like a question even though both my mother and I knew it didn’t matter if we opposed or not.

My mother sighed. “Just be back in time for supper, please. Your father is coming over.” Eli nodded and grabbed his truck keys hanging by the garage door. He gave us both a final glance as he walked out slamming the door behind him.

Wearily, my mother smiled. “He certainly has an acquired taste for showing his love for his family.” She started clearing the table. Despite everything that was happening in our family, she still found it easy enough to make a light-hearted comment and continue her life as if it was the easiest thing in the world.

For a moment I was just watching my mother busy herself in the kitchen. I was thinking about everything she had been dealing with the past couple of months, and couldn’t help but marvel her strength through all of this. She truly believed that things would work out for the better in every situation.

I admired this about her, but I still felt it was foolish. If something didn’t work out, how would she react? How would Eli react? How would our family change?

My thoughts got interrupted when I heard our front door open. I see Cameron and Shawna walking through the foyer towards the kitchen. My mother turned around and smiled. “Good morning” she exclaimed. I couldn’t help but feel she was emphasizing the good for my sake.

“Hey” he said. “I could smell breakfast all the way from my bedroom. Parents are at the hospital, care if Shawna and I crash?”

“Not at all” my mother replies. “And here, let me whip you guys up something to take home for food later. I’m sure your parents haven’t been grocery shopping properly in a minute, oh and I just got this new recipe…”

She trailed off as she started busying herself making more food. Shawna sat next to me as Cam took the seat Eli was before, each grabbing a donut and some orange juice still out on the table.

My mother always had an open door policy when it came to family friends. Once more her strength put everyone else’s needs before her own, and any worry she possibly had of her own life had completely disappeared into concern for her best friends and their family. I put my plate in the sink and kissed my mom on the cheek, saying I was going to get ready for work.

I went up to my room to grab my uniform when I felt the presence of someone behind me. I turned around and Cam was leaning on my doorframe watching me. “Can I help you?” I inquired.

He didn’t answer but continued to look at me. Cam was only silent when he didn’t know how to phrase what he wanted to say. He was always careful about his word choice, making sure the meaning he intended was the one he obtained. “Lilly is being released today.”

“Wow!” I reply. “That’s good, right?”

He was silent again. “She’s getting ready to go through chemo. I know it’s going to be hard on her. And my mom.”

I thought back to his mom. Sharron was an interesting character. She got her “MRS.” Degree right out of high school with Cam’s dad, not really bothering with any further schooling. She was perfectly content funding her beauty budget with her husband’s money. His dad Eric was a lawyer in a firm in Atlanta where he commuted a half hour each day to and from Carrollton. His parents had always been friends with mine, but their personalities could not be more different. Sharron’s emphasis on beauty and Eric’s emphasis on a successful law career would not make the next couple of months easy for Lilly.

“How’s Shawna taking it?” Shawna had been their family’s biggest cheerleader throughout everything. She refused to let people know when she was upset by anything; it’s just the type of person she was. She was studying to be a speech therapist with only one more year to go. She believed in helping people through their own struggles in order to find inner peace…or something along those lines.

“Shawna offered to shave her head with Lilly.” Cam explained. “My mother just about burst into tears on the spot”

I laughed. Typical; Sharron caring about the physical aspects of chemo rather than the chemical ones. I rolled my eyes and finished getting ready for work. “Well I’m having a family dinner tonight so I’ll make sure to tell you how that goes.”

“Ah yes. Tell Edward I said hello.”

“Edvard,” I mocked a Dutch accent, how his mother—my grandmother—addresses him. “That’s just what I need; my father to stop complaining about how my mother was raised and knock into how I’m throwing my life away going to community college instead of his Alma Mater to be with—“ I was about to say to be with him. That was an argument I’ve had too many times with my parents that I didn’t feel like bringing up currently. “Anyway, I have to get going.”

Cam nods and lets me through the doorway. “Your room tonight?”

“Nah,” I reply casually. “Parents will be fighting all night.”

“Mmkay. Just tap on the window when you can’t resist me anymore” he winked and headed down the stairs with me, but as I went out the front door he went back to the kitchen with his sister and my mother.

As I closed the door once again I already can feel the start to a hot and humid day. Heading to my car, I try and forget my father’s voice already in my head, lecturing me about my most recent choices.

And Here's To You - Chapter 2

I did preface that Cameron and I had an interesting friendship

I first secretly stayed the night with him the night he found out his sister had liver cancer. We were sophomores in high school and he was staying in our guest room since his parents were at the hospital with Lilly. His other sister, Shawna, was away for college in West Virginia and couldn’t get back to Georgia for another two weeks. He had just gotten off the phone with his mother when I walked in, and I could tell by the look on his face that he was truly scared. At that moment I shut the door and sat on the bed with him and didn’t leave until 7:00am the next morning.

Lilly got better and our lives slowly but surely started to return back to normal. When my parents separated, Cameron didn’t hesitate to return the favor by staying with me or letting me in through his window when my parents were shouting as I tried to sleep. It just took a flinch or a tone of voice, or even a text message when we weren’t already spending time together, to know that we wouldn’t leave the other that night. We never made a big deal about it, and our families were too busy with their own lives to notice or question it. It was our way of coping, and it worked.

You would think that this kind of friendship would hinder romantic relationships to occur with others, but you’d be surprised. Whenever I had boyfriends, they never made any comments to how much time I spent with Cameron. Our school was small enough that everyone pretty much knew everyone else, so when we hung out it was always on friendly terms. His girlfriends, however, were a different story. They were always the same type: Preppy, blonde, always wearing skirts too short and heels too high. Every time Cam introduced me to his newest attachment they would always give me a onceover, immediately assessing if I was a threat or not.

He was actually recently single. His last girlfriend, Amanda, gave up on him ditching his family and me to go to the University of New Mexico with her in September. They had been together for a few months; long enough to go to prom together have a joint graduation party. The entire time they were together, however, she was trying to get him to forget his idea of going to the college in town and life at home and go away to college to get away from the family drama. That’s what she said, at least, but I’m fairly certain she meant to get him away from me. At any rate, he never budged and she gave up trying, claiming his good looks weren’t enough to keep her in this small town forever.

Personally, I think he’s better off.

And I don’t say this for selfish reasons. Well, I probably do, because I have no idea what I would do if he weren’t more than a yard away. But I can’t image being with someone that doesn’t understand why your priorities are what they are. Granted, I’ve been sworn off relationships ever since my parents separated, so I may not be the best one to ask for an opinion on successful relationships.

I wake up and look at the clock. 6:58am. Two minutes before the alarm goes off. I feel Cam’s arms tightly around me as he breathes softly into my hair. “I know you’re awake, Elaina,” he murmurs into my hair.

I reach up to shut off the alarm before it turns on. “No you don’t.” I turn towards him. “You’re just dreaming.”

He opens his eyes and looks into mine, then closes them and snuggles closer. “You always stiffen when you wake up, as if you’re bracing for attack. It wakes me up.” I feel his breath on my neck and can’t help but weave my hands around his bare chest, unwilling to start my day just yet. “Five more minutes” he whispers.

“Five more minutes.” I sigh back, relaxing back into his embrace. It’s the most intimate we ever get: Consciously lying in each other’s arms. It never crosses the platonic line and it never acts as more than a life preserver on a boat. Even if you don’t need it, you feel safer with it there.

I eventually get out of bed and inconspicuously leave his house and cross the yard to my own. No one is ever up this early in my family so I walk in the front door and up to my room without having to answer any questions from anyone. I pass my brother’s room as I head towards my own, and I feel a slight pang of sadness.

My brother Eli is 16 and getting ready to start his junior year of high school. He’s on the football team and has never had any problems making friends, but he and I have drifted a lot these past couple of years. I suddenly worry how he’s reacting to the separation, hoping he doesn’t feel abandoned by it all. I slowly open his bedroom door and see him sprawled on his too-small bed snoring slightly with our cat by his side. Seeing him like this makes it hard to picture him as our high school’s varsity wide receiver, because all I see is my innocent younger brother. I quickly close the door and head straight to my room, making sure not to wake anyone.

Every morning after Cam and I part ways, it’s always the same. I feel consumed by the emptiness and silence that has replaced his warm embrace. I try and remember his arms around me, or his breath on my skin, hoping the memory will help me get through the times where the silence is all consuming. I lie down in my own bed and close my eyes, thinking of nothing but the touch memory from a half hour ago. I use those thoughts to drift me back into my own dreamland for a few more hours before I have to truly start my day.

And Here's To You - Chapter 1

“Do you remember that one softball game when you got a black eye?” Cameron was asking me.

I was nine. I was playing third base and paying more attention to my dad in the dugout than I was the ball that had been hit straight towards me, resulting in a delayed game and a very swollen eye for two weeks. “Yeah, what of it?”

“I remember you coming home in an eye patch. I thought it was weird because it was your brother obsessed with pirates, not you. When my mom told me you got hurt I thought you were only wearing the eye patch to make him feel better.”

I rolled my eyes and started to laugh. I was using Cameron’s chest as a pillow while I picked at the weeds growing around where we were lying down. It was a hot summer day with the sun beating down and not a cloud in the sky.

Cameron had always been my best friend. We grew up as next-door neighbors and our families went to the same church, so Cameron and his two sisters naturally befriended my brother and me. Cameron and I were the same age. There were three years between him and his older sister, and then three years between her and his oldest sister. My brother was two years younger than me, but the five of us all grew up as friends despite the age differences.

Cameron propped up on his elbows and looked down at me. “Are you sure you didn’t have a thing for pirates back then? Your little brother might have just been an excuse.”

“Cameron!” I gasped in fake exasperation. This entire afternoon we had been lying in the park reminiscing our childhood. I suppose he was getting me back for bringing up the time his two older sisters made him wear a dress over to our house.

He ran a hand through my hair and settled back lying down. “Elaina, don’t you ever wish we were that young again and things were that easy? We didn’t have to worry about things like divorce or sickness or solving world hunger…”

I let his words trail off as they wandered into my mind. So much had changed in the seventeen years we’ve known each other. We had seen each other grow into and out of the awkward stages of being an adolescent teenager, including the growth spurts, incomprehensive hormonal outbursts, and of course the heartaches and heartbreaks that came with growing up. Having just graduated high school, we were finally off to the land of adulthood and—hopefully—change for the better.

 Two years ago, Cameron’s oldest sister Lilly was diagnosed with liver cancer. It was caught early on and she was treated right away. We thought they were in the clear up until about a month ago when she relapsed and the doctor found the cancer had spread through her lymph nodes. She had been in her last year of law school and had to withdraw due to the amount of time she was in the hospital. It had put a huge strain on his family, making their house a breeding ground for stress, tension, and arguments on a daily basis.

My house, unfortunately, wasn’t much better. My parents had separated a couple months back and they were currently seeing a therapist who encouraged getting all issues out in the open to establish communication. My father interpreted this as a green light to let my mother know every single thing he has found wrong in their marriage of 22 years.

Both of us had jobs and tried to stay as busy as possible, but today neither of us was working and had no plans. By 11:00am our houses were unbearable and we found refuge in the town park, where we had been for the past four hours.

Our friendship was certainly an interesting one. I had grown up thinking his was the brother that was slightly less annoying than the one I shared blood with. Seeing him grow up definitely opened my eyes to how attractive his became once his voice got deeper, he wasn’t stumbling over his long legs, and his face filled out with a straight jaw line and cheekbones to die for. He had always worn his dark blond hair longer than his mother willed, and his eyes had always been the deepest shade of blue I’d seen. But knowing that he could recite every embarrassing moment that I’ve ever experienced, I never felt the need to ogle over him like every other girl in our graduating class.

He never acted like he had a crush on me either, and probably for the same reasons. I grew up playing sports outside so my hair was always sun bleached and I had a constant tan. I always felt average, with my hair straight just past my shoulders and nothing notably unique except my eyes which were a very light green and stood out when I wore makeup.

I never expected anything to happen between us. Then again, I never expected to know someone on the brink of death or how my parents could go 22 years of marriage and only now start having problems. But once all hell started to break loose, we both held on to the one thing that was constant:

Each other.

I looked up at Cameron and saw he was watching my hands pop the heads off of dandelions unconsciously. His gaze shifted to my eyes when he saw me look up and he smiled. “I’m just waiting for your hands to turn yellow,” he said. “You’ll have to get treated for jaundice.”

“Whatever,” I retort. I pick up a white dandelion and blow the seeds into his face. “At least I won’t start sprouting flowers in my hair.”

He makes a grab for my sides to try and tickle me, but I quickly got to my feet into a defensive stance, prepared to run the minute he advances. He just brushed his hands through his hair to get all the seeds out. “It’s too hot to chase you around the park. Want to go for a swim?”

I nod in agreement. The pool at his house was always a good precursor to how we spent the evenings. His parents would see us go into his room after supper to presumably dry off and go our separate ways, but they never noticed that I never left his room. Almost every night I stay with him. We rarely did more than just hold each other as we drift in and out of sleep, but one thing we learned quickly was that it was easier to keep a grip on reality when you had someone to hold onto it with you.

Society Sucks Sometimes

We live in a society where your status is based on what or who you know. It's one thing to know a secret, but when someone else figures it out, in order to fit in with society, you can't just relish in the fact that you knew about it, you have to make sure they know that you know. But at the same time, when you do that, it either looks like you're boasting or that you're lying and are just trying really hard to fit in. With that logic you'd think you'd be able to just not say anything and be fine with it, But THEN you have to feel like everyone is talking down at you because you're not in the loop...

...I tell things like this to my mother and she's just like "Who the BLEEP cares?!" Which makes me think back to how I was raised. I wasn't raised to have the last word or to make sure everyone knows that I'm just as in the know as everyone else. I was raised to make choices, be content with those choices, take responsibility for my choices, and answer to no one but myself. And while I know this and can reiterate it, I still live in a society where status is everything.

And it's not just word of mouth status. It's physical proof status. If you tell people you met Will Smith it's just like yeah right, you probably just saw a black guy that had the same hair style. No, you need a PICTURE or some other thing to prove that you actually saw him.

This past week at work I knew something that was kept extremely confidential...I knew it because of my new position. But anyway, I had to create a red herring for the staff to think that way they wouldn't get too nosy and make up information. Well the information got leaked (from the source so maybe it's not an actual leak...) and this snooty staff member was acting all high and mighty that he knew the truth, and when I tried to tell him that I've known this whole time he looked like I was making a pathetic attempt to make myself look better than him which in reality that's what he was doing...

I KNOW I shouldn't care. I know it literally means less than nothing. But it irked me so much! And that's society right now. You don't have worth unless you know the right information you're supposed to know at the right time.

FAIL of EPIC (though potentially awesome) Proportions!!!

Well since my summer started at the beginning of May, I'm going to say that the last day of July is pretty much the end to my "summer". So remember that post that I made like...a bagillion years ago?

...ok so maybe it was three months ago, but still!

The one where I talk about blogging more, and cooking more, and pinning more, and dabbling in vlogging, and just enjoying my summer because I just got done working a big girl job and it sounded like exactly like what I wanted to do?!

...

...

...

...

...yeah. Totally not how this summer went.

When I wrote that, this picture is what I thought of :P

It's actually been a pretty tough summer. So many changes in such a short amount of time...it's hard to keep up with them all! And unfortunately it lead to several personal issues that I tried to resolve...which then had its own successes and failures. Here's just a short list of some things that went on this summer.

My dad found out that his position was being terminated at the hospital he was working at :( So he was proactively seeking work and got offered a job in the price range he was asking for :) except this job is in Hillsboro, Ohio, approximately three and a half hours away from where we live now :| He had to move out there June 16th to start the job, so we've been separated since then dealing with everything else down here, like figuring out getting the house ready to be put on the market, tying up all loose ends, and figuring out what this means for my sister and I who are staying in Indiana.

I found out that I was going to be teaching at Perry Meridian High School this coming semester! :) My first day is actually tomorrow, and I have to be up in...five and a half hours. Oops! Oh well, blogging is worth it! :P I'm really looking forward to being in this school and working with this teacher!

One of the loose ends is just schooling in general. Rachel signed a contract for an apartment for she's pretty much leaving the nest essentially for good. Since I'm at a school that's in Indy, I'm staying at home until we sell the house, but even then I'll want to stay in the Indy area if possible.

Still working at the movie theater, although I now have a new title: Lead Supervisor! It's that awesome position where you do all the work of an assistant manager, but without the title, or the keys, or the pay grade. Although I did get a $0.40/hr increase, so I'm not complaining too much! The position is actually great because I'm still working with the staff enough to know what's actually going on with them, any issues or concerns get brought directly to me and then I get to work with everyone to solve them. I'm also in charge of the 12 supervisors we have, so it's pretty nice to have a nice semblance of power.

Last summer we bought a third car because the two that we had were both over a decade old. Well, that's the car that my dad took to Hillsboro when he left for his job, leaving us here with the two old cars. So about a month ago my mother bought a car so that she could feel safe driving around town. This gave us three cars for four of us living at home, things were working out great. Well then, my sister's roommate, who was planning to have a car in Bloomington while she was not, ran into some car troubles. My mother, brother, and I all needed cars in town to go to our jobs and/or schools, so there wasn't a car for her to take down to Bloomington. Well, after some lengthy discussions, I got to start car shopping! The second place we visited ended up having the car that I purchased, a 2008 Nissan Sentra. I fell in love with that care quicker than I dared admit to anyone. I was supposed to be looking at Hondas and Toyotas, because they were known for their reliability. But everything felt right driving the Nissan. It didn't feel like I was driving an old car, which the other ones I test drove did feel like. We were able to make the payments work, and in less than 72 hours I drove the car off the lot!

Pretty sure that's one of my favorite moments of the summer. The car is in my name, the loan is in my name, I am completely responsible for its well-being. Now don't get me wrong, thinking about paying for everything that may go wrong scares me, but I like this first step. I love being able to take care of this car, as weird as that sounds. Like, I've been itching to buy a tire gauge, to get a grease job and oil change, to make copies of my keys, all because I want to take pride in this vehicle and take care of it now to make sure it lasts me well into the future. It's a pretty cool feeling :)

But anyway, now we're that family that each member has their own car. And less than 18 months ago, we had two cars for five drivers. I feel like we're upgrading from dial-up to wifi all over again; the convenience is astounding!

There's so much more, really, that's happened. It's been absolutely insane, this summer. It feels weird at times, because I feel like I belong, and yet I don't at the same time. It's a middle stage where everything is changing expect for the big things (ie the house getting sold, me getting my own place, etc). We're in the middle, and it's weird, and different, and I don't know if I like it or not.

I do know that I'm ready for the school year to start and to start getting my own wheels turning so I can take pride in more aspects of my life, like my classroom and new living quarters :)

Apparently I'm Good At Confusing Myself

I grew up in a household where I was conditioned to think I was different and the same at the same time. I was different because my parents had high expectations for me, but I was the same in that I had nothing extra or wrong with me. Above average, but normal, so to speak. Because of that, I am unable to confront my biggest fear to date:

I think I might have an anxiety disorder.

Why can't I confront this? Because it's one of those things that I don't feel I should be able to recognize or admit. If I had an anxiety disorder, would I truly know that I did? Would I suspect it? Wouldn't being aware of it help it go away?

Doing research online doesn't help because I can't tell if I'm molding myself into the description they give. Or identify with parts and wonder if that's enough. Of course the thought of telling my mother...I can tell you it won't go anywhere because of how I was raised. If I think I have an anxiety disorder it's to get attention or make myself seem different or God knows what.

It doesn't help that I've suspected this for almost five years now. That I've had attacks out of no where for small, meaningless, and inexplicable reasons. That I've taken medication for the soul purpose of getting these feelings out of my head and questioning everything when it works...

There's still part of me that says it's in my head. It's psychosomatic. I think I just want to see someone so I can know one way or another. Yes you do or no you don't. At least then I'd have an answer, right?

But what if I'm scared to know what the answer would be?

Some days are really really good. I feel like my life is perfect. I feel like everything is going the way it should be. Some days are terrible. I feel more aware of silence and solitude that it freaks me out. I want to cry for no reason and have someone notice. I don't know or think that any of this is linked to a specific event, especially since I think it's been going on for half a decade...but I still wish I knew if I had a trigger...

I feel like I'm fucked up. I feel like I need to get over myself. I feel like I need help.

A wonderful combination indeed.

Did You Know

That I can usually tell when someone has a true problem, and when someone just needs to vent frustrations directed towards me. Recently I've been doing a good job at developing this because I've noticed it happening more and more often. I don't let it affect me because once the venting is over it's as if nothing happened, and if it's not being held against me then I don't see the need to hold it against the other. Unfortunately, my passiveness has been mistaken for being a coward as well as obstinate. These claims are getting to me and making me want to defend more than just listen. This is now becoming a problem because it's causing me anxiety and I actually just caught myself pre-anxiety attack because of a venting session. Which is why I started blogging again. I had earlier been told that I spend too much time worrying about my virtual (and maybe pretend) audience and should be focusing on other aspects in my life. However my month of nonblogging has shown me how much I need blogging in my life. Keeping everything bottled up is having negative effects on my life, and I can see that. Even if I'm only putting things up here instead of confronting it head on. Just getting this information out SOMEWHERE helps. As I type this (and the previous two blogs) I can feel myself letting go of the pained emotions I was having. I'm nonconfrontational. I feel no need or desire to go up to an individual and actually the thought of confronting someone creates almost as much anxiety as bottling everything up. Blogging is a happy medium where I don't have to worry about the implications of my words. I'm not doing this to hurt anyone. I'm not doing this to rebel against anyone. This is purely me conveying my emotions so that I don't stress out and I don't harm anyone else. This is my form of venting, but I'm not causing my computer to have a panic attack. And truly I don't care what anyone things, if they think this is petty or useless or immature or irresponsible or me acting like a child instead of an adult. THIS ISN'T ABOUT YOU. THIS IS ABOUT ME. DEAL WITH IT.

...passive aggressive much? Just the way I like it.

I'm back, baby :)

Did You Know

That I have a classic Type B personality? The personality types are only theorized, but here's what they say about Type B:

Type B

The theory describes Type B individuals as a contrast to those with Type A personalities. People with Type B personality by definition generally live at a lower stress level and typically work steadily, enjoying achievement but not becoming stressed when they are not achieved. When faced with competition, they do not mind losing and either enjoy the game or back down. They may be creative and enjoy exploring ideas and concepts. They are often reflective, thinking about the outer and inner worlds.

Now we took personality tests in my Wellness class, and it said I was like 75% Type B. Most people are a mix of sorts because we all have out individual stressors that bring out the Type A in us. Another thing we learned about personalities is dealing with stress. Type A personalities will have their stressors "jump out" at them, and it won't go away until it's resolved. Type B personalities won't see stressors until they are blocking their current goal or interest. For example, a Type A will be a clean freak and one thing out of place will be glaringly obvious. A Type B will not even acknowledge a mess until they don't have a path to their chair or they step on and break something. 

Although these are just theories, it's something with with I identify strongly. Probably because I can see the Type A and B in those constantly around me, and it's an obvious explanation to me as to why people put importance in certain things. I'm sure there are those who would put as much validity in this as they do zodiac, but I see nothing wrong with leading a Type B life. What I label important is no less valid than what someone else labels important. 

Now to try and convince the Type A's that...

Did You Know

That I don't chew my eggs? The only way I like my eggs is scrambled with salt and ketchup because I can scoop them in my mouth, taste no egg, and swallow them just like that. If I were to eat an egg in a sandwich or burrito, I wouldn't be able to because everything else in the sandwich or burrito would need to be chewed and I don't want to chew my eggs. I still do that with cheese sometimes. Like if I'm just eating a chunk or slice of cheese, I can't chew it. It weirds me out. That's why I prefer small curd cottage cheese to large curd, and I never eat the crazy large curds. Because I don't want to chew them. Now when cheese melts I'm fine with chewing it. But eggs can't melt, so I'm still stuck with that. 

#thatmomentwhen

You talk about how you want to blog more! And come up with these great topics and things to talk about!

...and then don't post anything for a solid week.

Way to go, Emma :P

Reminds me of Shady Fizz every time...

It's the Once ler from The Lorax.

Raincheck

I got off work late and have to be up early. Forgive me for needing another day to work on this :P

What Teachers Rely on in the Classroom

So as a teacher candidate, I am always fascinated with the new and upcoming things in education people complain about. Teachers acting too much like parents, teachers not acting enough like parents, teachers not needing to have a license, teachers needing to record and analyze mastery data for evaluation, teachers losing tenure, teachers losing union privileges, the list goes on and on. One that's been big for about the past decade is teachers relying too much on the textbook to teach their students.

Now this one intrigues me immensely. I understand that the current fad in teaching is authentic learning, and as a language educator I see nothing but benefits to this teaching style. However, textbooks definitely have their place in the classrooms. Textbooks are typically aligned to the standards that the teachers have to meet for each grade level or subject. As someone who just spent the past two months making lesson plans with only a syllabus and textbook as a guide, I found the textbook extremely helpful as to the direction my lessons should be heading. Now don't get me wrong, I agree that textbooks should not be relied on, but I don't think they should be ignored either.

I know teachers who are completely anti-textbook...but then they turn around and do worksheets and only worksheets everyday. Excuse me? You do realize that is just as bad as relying on a textbook, right? Relying on one form to teach and retain knowledge in your classroom, no matter the form, is not best teaching practices. Best teacher practices involves including a multitude of styles for both teaching and measuring learning/retention that way each student and learning style is targeted.

Currently, authentic learning, even though it's ideal, is facing issues in the public school systems. It's hard to have students learn how to properly order from a French menu if there's no budget to go on a field trip to a French restaurant and have them try it first hand. Even though the students' production can be replicated in a classroom, it is the authentic interaction that helps the students reach outside of their Zone of Proximal Development and gain further retention than just learning inside of a classroom. With that being said, authentic learning requires more critical thinking and problem solving, which is something that several students struggle with for various reasons. Still in adolescence, even some of the brightest students have never needed to find an answer that wasn't right in front of them. As an education major we learn how to ask High Order of Thinking questions, but with the lax requirements to become a teacher, not all teachers have that training.

I feel that the textbooks I have been using in my classroom are a good resource for language learning. I feel this way because this textbook takes into consideration but low and high achieving students as well as multiple intelligences and multiple ways to present materials. This textbook allows me to target the four learning skills: reading, writing, speaking, and listening, as well as multiple projects that incorporate the culture and identity of the language. With that being said, I do not use the book in every single class every single day. I make sure that the students know where they can reference materials should they need to, but I make sure that they are not doing book work everyday. Especially with my own experiences with the French language and culture, I try and get them to see other sides of the language. My classes have done research on other French speaking countries. They have listened to French music. They have learned French dances. They have read French newspaper articles. They have "visited" Parisian monuments. They have learned common French expressions and slang. They have learned various greetings for both formal and informal occasions. None of these are presented in their books and 100% of them are authentic. And because of it, I have had several students come up to me and claim they have learned more in the two months I have been here than in the past semester.

I've only seen a handful of people teach French or a language and I know that there are multiple successful ways to do this. I would never claim that my practices are the one and only working method. However, I feel I have been properly trained and am knowledgeable enough in education reform to know how to run a classroom, even if I don't yet have a teacher's license. With that being said, having a teacher's license does not automatically mean that the students have the best possible education in front of them. If a teacher is relying on a textbook or another single means of teaching, that teacher should probably reconsider the methods he/she are using. It's my opinion, but the research backs me up. :)