Sick, Just Sick

A reeducation camp for gay teens? Seriously. In whose mind is that a good idea?

"Now, son, I realize that you are at what is for everyone a very difficult, confusing age. What you need is to be told that everything you feel is wrong. That'll make you into a happy, repressed adult. See you in eight weeks."

"Gee, thanks, Mom and Dad. This has in no way, shape, or form affected my self-image or sense of well-being."

I'm not gay, but even I can see how this is just a really, really bad idea.

Breathe in, Breathe out...

It's hot.

My relatively well-insulated Alaskan self is not loving the 95 degree weather. I don't really care for sweating.

Bleh.

So

I'm slacking off, bloggo-publishing-wise. Deal. ;-)

Can't say that anyone's life is all the worse for the lack of info...

Too Much, Methinks

Yesterday was the most obscenely decadent day I've had in a LONG time. Around 4, one of the housemates goes "Hey, we're going for sushi, wanna come?"

I looked at my alternatives (I was elbow-deep in dishwater at the time) and said a big fatty hell yeah.

So I went and had sushi. A lot of sushi. Spent quite a bit of money (at least by my somewhat cheap bastard definition of "a bit"). What the heck, though, I haven't had sushi yet this summer.

THEN evening came. Had a heckuva workout at the Y, then jogged home. Roomies say, "Hey, we're going out for really good Thai appetizers and frou-frou cocktails, wanna come?"

Again, hell f-ing yeah.

So yeah, went out AGAIN, and this time had a whole lot of great appetizers (I'm salivating just thinking about them) and two Mojitos. Ladies and gentlemen, these were the most amazing Mojitos ever. There was a veritable GARDEN of mint leaves in them.

Today I have a tummyache. Gee, I wonder why. There may be such a thing as too much good food.

I've gone and done it

I've become one of those people who talks to other people about teething and diapers and heat rash and onesies.

And I'm just the babysitter/mom's friend.

Sad.

The Limits of Tevas

I've always been of the "I can wear my Teva sandals anywhere, for any amount of time." Well, apparently, a walking marathon is well outside the limits of said Tevas.

They caused some nasty-ass blisters on the pads of my feet... which burst at mile 16. Great fun.

So, anyway, don't leave your walking/running shoes in Alaska if you're going to do a walking marathon, unless that walking marathon is IN Alaska, in which case, you're golden.

Holy Crap

Went to a friend's baby's first birthday party at Pizza Luce in downtown Minneapolis. It's amazing where you can now have kids' birthday parties now that smoking's illegal in public buildings... my feelings on the subject are complex, so I won't get into it...)

There were FIVE babies between the ages of 6 months and a year. Plus one pregnant woman. In a group of about 20 or so. For a good chunk of time, I was the only non-with-child woman there. Freeeeaaaaaky maaaaan. Not bad, necessarily, but freaky. Soon another woman showed up and I had someone to not talk about diapers to. Not that I don't spend a lot of time thinking about Babysitting Baby's diaper, but since she's not mine, I don't feel the need to worry about her diaperswhen I'm not actually in the act of changing them.

Well, anyway, it was fun. Had a few bears (Bell's Oberon, their current Seasonal Beer... not too shabby, but I'm depressed that companies have comparatively light "Seasonal Beers," ,but alas...), chatted with some old friends, met some new people, blah blah blah...

And on a totally separate note... Is there a 12-step program for cutting off the Cinnamon Altoids habit? They are my personal crack cocaine. Seriously, I can't stop. I just got my current tin today and I'm closer to being empty then I'd like to admit.

Just a warning

I'm not going to post much this summer, I don't think... at least not as prolifically as I did during the school year. I know, you're probably saying THANK GOD. THAT CHICK NEVER SHUTS THE *$&# UP.

Few reasons for my anticipated slowdown in production...


1. Babysitting for a 6 month-old is a little time-consuming. She's napping now, but was NOT happy when Mom wasn't around and she had to drink from a bottle, which is NOT her most favoritest thing in the world. We even wrote a little song titled "Bottles Suck, Boobies Rule," but it didn't seem to soothe her all that much. Go fig.

2. When not babysitting, I'll likely often be drinking and hanging out with friends, which does not need to be chronicled for future generations.

So... Two Days In...

Yeah. There has been beer on multiple occasions, but thus far no drunkenness. There has also been one gin and tonic and more meals eaten out than the past ten months put together. All the options are almost too much. I found myself staring at restaurant menus and wanting one of everything. Mostly things with bacon. We never get bacon in the village. I never really had a big love for bacon, but apparently, I missed it.

I'll admit it, I miss village life in some ways. There is just SO MUCH going on, especially in the Twin Cities. I had to drive a rental car away from the MSP airport this afternoon and it was just too much visual stimulus, too fast. Driving at the airport flustered me back when my driving reflexes were honed to a citified level of competence, just think how bad it was this afternoon. I was scared-old-lady-white-knuckling it on the steering wheel. I seemed to get back into the driving groove after a few minutes, though.

I'll miss village life, but it's going to be a great summer. I'm babysitting for a friend's kid three days a week, and in exchange get to live in her house in Minneapolis, which is right where I want to be.

Random: I just looked up at the ceiling in the room I grew up in (well... from 5th grade on...), and the glow-in-the-dark stickers that I put on the light fixture are still there, as is the little fuzzy dude (remember those? little puffball with feet and googly eyes?) I stuck up there. Suppose those'll have to go if my parents ever move...

Briefly and without grammar

Arrived safely and without traumatic incident in MN. All is good. Moderate amounts of beer have been consumed at various Minneapolis establishments. Further update to follow. Time to sleep.

*Ahem*

Happy Birthday to me
Happy Birthday to me
Happy Birthday, dear Sara
Happy Birthday to me.

I would like to congratulate Alaska Airlines and Delta Airlines for managing to get me all the way from Bethel to Minneapolis without once offering me a real meal. Not that airline food is any good, but sheesh.

Food, Mostly

Just made my last flight reservation for tomorrow (the little hop between the village and the hub city, Bethel). Other Teacher #2 and I will be flying out at 12:30, which will give me three hours, weather permitting, to go to the bead store (they have a great selection I've yet to find equalled Downstates) and grab some food for the journey.

Speaking of food, I attended a birthday feast for one of our school aide's daughters. There I had what will probably be my last taste of akutaq (eskimo ice cream), walrus, seal, caribou, and dried smoked salmon strips where you have to peel them off the skin. Diet food it ain't, but I've really developed a taste for it... even the "weird" stuff that I only tried for the sheer adventure of it.

Seal meat is surprisingly "meaty" (as opposed to fatty) and not at all what I would have expected, at least when cooked up in a pan. Walrus, on the other hand, is unlike anything I've ever eaten. It's so... smooth. So many dense (and probably horrifically fatty, but who's countin?) calories... I ate a little around noon yesterday and wasn't hungry until well after 7. Caribou is a lot like venison. Dried smoked salmon strips are the beef jerkey of the Eskimo subarctic. No wait, better. Jerky is a pain to eat because it's so tough, but dried smoked salmon strips (or simply "strips" as they're known in village English) is fun. Grab a hold of the meat with your teeth and hold on to the skin. Now peel. It takes a certain flair... I'm now to the point where I get everything off but the skin. Dogs LOVE the skin for a treat, but only if they're outside dogs, because salmon skin dog farts are the epitome of disgusting.

Christ, I have been an obnoxiously prolific blogger over the past week. If anyone actually reads all this, kudos to you, but I certainly don't expect everybody to do so. For me, it's been a sort of personal housecleaning of my thoughts... hence the stream-of-consciousness style writing.

This should be my last post for a few days. I fly out tomorrow, weather permitting, at 12:30-ish. I'll turn 26, assuming the flight boards on time, at 12:07am... 48 minutes before my flight out of Anchorage is set to depart. I'll make it to the Twin Freakin Cities at 11:45 Tuesday morning, Central Time. While it looks like I'll be spending 23 hours in transit, if time zone changes are taken into account, it's only 20. ONLY.

Me out on the ice

Me out on the ice
Originally uploaded by smacca.

Just 'cuz I can finally easily and successfully post pictures, and I like this one, I will make you look at it! I didn't take it, but you can see me out on the ice (the ice being Kuskokwim Bay of the Bering Sea). Roomie, Other Teacher #1, Social Worker (who visits once a week or every other week as he's social worker for several villages) and I took a trip out to the beach back in... March? I don't quite remember. I could easily look up the date on the pic but that would be mucho effort.

I think the picture illustrates the vast weirdness of the beach in winter. There were four of us out there, not a mile from the village, but with the wind whipping and the oddness of the terrain (ice cracked and pushed and pulled and whatnot into odd configurations by the tides), you could just wander away and think you were the only person on the face of the planet. I did just that, and apparently got my picture taken in the process.

Bah

How does packing ALWAYS sneak up on me? Like I haven't been counting the days to summer vacation!

*dutifully but crabbily goes back to laundry and packing and cleaning...*

'Tis the Way it Goes

I'm only now getting to the point where I feel really comfortable with village life. Don't get me wrong... I've been happy all year, with a few normal day-to-day exceptions. I've been happier, really, than I've probably ever been. Having a job I can call a career and a house I can call a home for as long as I want to call it such have given me a sense of permanence I haven't experienced since... wow, probably since high school.

My seven years of pathological impermanence went as follows: Four years of college - different dorm or apartment each year. The year after college, for various reasons that don't need elaborating at this point, I did not have my shit together in the least. Found a job I didn't have much passion for (followed by a job that can only be described as hell on Earth) and an apartment in my hometown. Became pretty miserable after a year, mostly because of hell-job and the fact that none of my friends lived in said hometown. Found a wonderful job in the Twin Cities, took it, moved back. Unfortunately, it was an AmeriCorps job, and those are by definition, to be held for a maximum of two one-year stints. They're also, by definition, below-poverty-level-paying. After that year, I entered the Masters in Education program at the University of Minnesota. Another new house, another occupation (student again).

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why I'm ecstatic that I'm staying where I am. Aside from what I need to survive for the summer, I DON'T HAVE TO MOVE MY CRAP! I don't have to get used to a new job next year. I don't have to deal with the stress of change. Woo-freakin-hoo!

Yeah, we'll be getting a lot of new teachers next year. Happens every couple years out here in the bush... there's a big teacher turnover. As a result, next year might be stressful. However, I'm going to already know 90% of the students I'll be working with. The vast majority of the new kindergarteners have at least one brother or sister that I already know, if not teach. One year being the same as the last (in some ways) is not necessarily a bad thing.

Yes, definitely less stress this way.

For the record

Mom and Dad!
Originally uploaded by smacca.

I have two very awesome parents. Awesome in the way that normal, regular people can be amazing parents. Anyway, they did a great job raising us and never wavered in their support. I owe them more than is humanly possible to repay (and I'm not just talking about money).

Side note: Aren't they cute?

And did I just refer to someone in my family as "normal" and "regular?" Wow.

Meh

As I may or may not have remembered or felt like posting, I met secret weight goal #1 about a month ago. Since then I have neither lost nor gained any weight... which I guess is neither good nor bad news.

I'd love to work out, I really would. As little talent as I have for it, I came to enjoy running quite a bit a few years back. And I could totally run here. Unlike other villages in the Y-K Delta, we've got a pretty extensive system of roads. Most other communities just have boardwalks. It's a trade-off, though, because those other (smaller) communities, for the most part, have flush toilets in their homes, an unimaginable luxury for all but a few lucky souls here.

But this just isn't a running kind of place. Well, that's not entirely true. I coached cross country last fall (Wow, remember that? My first or second blog entry? So long ago...), and the kids on the team loved running. They even wanted to continue holding practices after all the meets were over and done with. So people here like to run. However, when I suggested that they run on their own or in small groups, they looked at me like I was crazy. "So embarrassing," they said.

I've gone out jogging a few times, but it's such an oddity that it generally attracts so many kids that I'm forced to either be rude and ignore them (which I don't want to do because they're good kids, for the most part), or stop and talk. That someone would just go out for a run for the hell of it is something that I have to take the time to explain. Add that to my generally lazy personality and you've got a recipe for tub-o-lard.

Soon I'll be back in the Lower 48, where running doesn't attract a small throng of pint-sized curiosity seekers. Then I'll have to either get my act together or find a new excuse.

Hopefully I'll get my act together. I DID register for a sprint tri in July, and given my lack of natural athletic ability, I should probably put in at least a few miles beforehand.

Anticlimactic

Just taught my last class of the year. Actually, not "taught" as much as "damage-controlled." The kids are pretty wound up.

*Dances around the empty classroom*

*Shakes her groove thang*

*Remembers all the filing she has to do tomorrow and weeps for a brief moment*

*Resumes groove thang shaking*

This Does Not Bode Well

In honor of the new Star Wars movie opening tonight (which Roomie will get to see, since she has to go to Anchorage for a meeting; I have to wait until I get back Downstates), I thought I'd take one of those silly online quizzes to see who I am. Turns out...

Take the quiz: "What Star Wars Character Are You?"

Anakin Skywalker
Watch out for your temper...it could get you into trouble the way it did Anakin. You have enormous potential to be a great Jedi, but stress has made the dark side seem that much more inviting...

Great. Destined for the Dark Side, it would seem. Oh well, at least I get to die an honorable death saving my son and the future of the universe.

I'm cautiously hopeful when it comes to this last Star Wars movie. The first two prequels sucked donkey wang, but hey, maybe they'll strike cinematic gold this time. I've heard good things, I guess. Kevin Smith (of Clerks fame) said good things, and I like his movies, so maybe, just maybe...

as;dflgkhar;oeighdfdflkb;jnasr;ogh

ONE MORE DAY OF SCHOOL.

Somewhere Inside

Deep inside the heart of every instructor, even the most honey-voiced sweetheart of a pushover teacher, likes the Evil Psycho Bitch Teacher. Most of us are disciplined enough that our students rarely, if ever, have to meet Evil Psycho Bitch Teacher. We can be Evil Teacher, we can be Psycho Teacher, or even Bitch Teacher, but we keep Evil Psycho Bitch Teacher hidden deep within the caverns of our souls. I occasionally catch a glimpse of the Evil Psycho Bitches (and men can be bitches, too, just as frequently as women) I could be, and that glimpse is generally frightening enough to whip me back into shape.

Today, the Evil Psycho Bitch Teacher catalyst was... wait for it... KIDDIE PROM.

So all students who weren't old enough to go to prom (5th grade and under... although we have some pretty darn old 5th graders) get to dance and eat cookies and drink Kool-Aid in the gym for an hour. So you have cute little innocent (heh heh heh) kindergarteners and 13 (!) year-old 5th graders and everything in between, all sharing a space. The kindergarteners want to jump and dance and hit balloons around. The 13 year-olds are generally *ahem* behaviorally and academically challenged, and want to (a) sneak out the back door, (b) whine that I'm not playing rap music, or (c) push the little kids around.

Somehow I ended up dealing with the worst. Then the sound system went all wonky. Then kids were climbing on the stage. I'm not sure why, but today it was just too much for me.

Evil Psycho Bitch Teacher made a brief, if spectacular, appearance. Luckily, I was able to contain her under a merely stressed-out veneer until I was alone in the closet of a room containing the stereo equipment. Well, almost contain it. One student who I caught trying to sneak out the back door probably didn't deserve as harsh a reprimand as I gave her, but then again, she WAS trying to sneak out of school, so I don't feel too bad.

Anyway, it's over. Next year, if I have my way, there will be no Kiddie Prom. If they want to have some kind of party, fine, but I'm not in charge. Kindergarteners and 13 year-olds do NOT enjoy the same things. Throwing them in a gym and putting on music is just silly. Who's dumbass idea WAS this?

*takes deep, cleansing breaths*

*turns off Evil Psycho Bitch mode*

Prom, Middle-of-Nowhere Style

Combine your senior prom with your 6th grade middle school dance, and you've got our prom. All students, 6th grade and up, are able to attend. 18 year-old girls in prom dresses they mail ordered and pre-pubescent 6th grade boys, all mingling against a backdrop of the usual bad dance music and an incessant strobe light that is going to drive me to seizure.

Wow, what a fun night.

A beer would really make the night go a lot better. I just keep repeating "10 days to beer, 10 days to beer, 10 days to beer..."

Oh, great. They're playing "Stacy's Mom has got it Going On." Please may I pickaxe out my eardrums? I bet I'd be good at sign language.

Graduation

Our school held its graduation this afternoon for our two high school graduates as well as our kindergarteners. Kindergarteners in caps and gowns are hella-cute.

Sadly, it doesn't look like we'll have a graduation next year. None of our juniors will likely be ready.

*sigh*

Our junior high looks promising, though... so in a few years, it might be a different story.

By the Numbers

In 12 days, I will be taking up residence for the summer in a house with TWO flush toilets. The sheer luxuriousness of it boggles the mind. Not just one, but two. Wild.

In 12 days, I will also turn 26.

In 12 days, I will also be allowed to drink beer and other alcoholic beverages again. Actually, in 11 days, because I will get to Anchorage on the 23rd and Alcohol is sure as hell legal there. There's a booth calling me at the Anchorage Airport Chili's Too. For a crappy chain restaurant in an airport, they have a decent beer selection.

In 11 days, I will bid the village goodbye for the summer. But I'll be back. I'm that craz... uh... dedicated. Like I said to my mentor yesterday, "I need this year to be over so next year can start." So goes the cycle of the teacher.

In 8 days I will be done with work obligations for the summer.

In 7 days, the students will be done for the summer. Well, they'll be physically done. Mentally, they've been done for a week already.

In 1 day, our seniors will graduate. A class of two. So it goes up here... They probably started out with 20 or so back in kindergarten...

4 hours until today is over with and I can enjoy the 61 degree weather.

Reflection

The state of Alaska has a wonderful (and that's saying a lot when you're talking about state programs) new teacher mentoring program. Basically, they pay veteran or retired teachers to be "mentors" to a whole bunch of first- and second-year teachers. In a lot of other places, you're assigned a teacher mentor who's also currently teaching. This means that it's up to both the new and veteran teacher to (a) give a rat's ass about a mentoring program, and (b) have and set aside the time to meet. In hiring people to STRICTLY mentor, Alaska's facing up to the reality of teaching: if it doesn't affect tomorrow's lesson, it can wait until there is no tomorrow's lesson to worry about.

My mentor is mentor to myself, three other young teachers in my school, plus a bunch of other teachers in other villages. She has taught in rural Alaska for years, and knows her shit. She's not a boss, she's not a student teaching supervisor. She knows that some lessons, on some days, are just not going to be awesome because you just can't take the time to analyze all lessons from every angle. The first day the mercury rises above 60 in the village, you're NOT going to get much done after lunch, unless you (a) are both a sadist and a masochist, loving both to torture and be tortured, or (b) do what a bunch of classroom teachers did today and decided that a science lesson on local birds or plants involving a walk to the river was on the schedule. Sometimes good enough really is good enough. Strive for the best, of course. Just don't get too down on yourself when you acknowledge that a nature walk is going to be much more productive than a classroom lesson on plant parts. At least you acknowledged it.

Anyway, yeah, mentors. Ours, awesome. From what I've heard from teachers with different mentors, theirs are also awesome. They basically gives us what we need. When I was in the middle of my hellish month of language testing, she made photocopies and fetched students. She's sorted books for people. She's taught lessons so we could observe other teachers. So much of my learning this year has come, directly or indirectly, from her.

See? Government programs CAN be productive!

I Really Hate to Brag

... But I only have eight more days of school left. Well, only a half a day left today. And Friday is a half day. Plus next week is a total wash, academically.

I feel a little bad that I'm so excited about the end of school. I love my job. My students are, for the most part, awesome. But damn if I'm not at least as hyper and spacey as my students are.

One of the second graders shot his first goose last week. The "first catch" is a big thing in traditional Yup'ik culture, and it's still celebrated to a certain extent. He certainly had cause to be excited. Students come in every day not wanting to talk about nouns and verbs and vowels and consonants. They want to talk about ducks and geese and cranes and swans and muskrats whatever else they shot the night before. As far as I can tell, the whole of summer is a "getting ready" season, where you hunt, fish, and gather plants. Even now, with our store and its neatly packaged Tyson chicken breasts, people manage to do an extraordinary amount of self-feeding. My students may be poor, but during hunting season, I'd wager they eat better than kids anywhere else.

What is Your Favorite Tetris Block Shape?

I'm a big fan of the long, skinny one... but I also have a certain affinity for the L and backwards-L.

I have decided that Tetris is the pinnacle of human technology. Think about it. It serves no purpose. It is 100% useless, but posesses a simple genius that keeps us (and by us, I mean me) entertained for long periods of time. It's been around for how many years, and it hasn't lost its entertainment value.

That I can waste hours dropping blocks on a little screen is kinda sad. That I flinch non-voluntarily when I drop a piece and it's not where I thought it would be is even more so.

Its genius lies in its simplicity. There's no "secret" to it. With so many video games, once you beat it, the challenge is over. You've beaten it, you know its secrets, the romance goes out of the relationship, so to speak. There's no "beating" Tetris, I don't think. You play until you lose. Then you play again, and maybe do a little better. You can always do a little better. Like playng Scrabble, you can learn little mental tricks and hone your technique, but your first game is just as challenging as your last.

Some Days

Some days you're the dog, some days you're the fire hydrant.

Bow Before my Old-Maidiness

I found out last night that my last remaining unmarried (close, female) friend from high school is getting hitched on Monday. None of us had heard from her in a while, so it came as a bit of a suock. However that means that I am officially the last single woman from that group (who I really don't see that often, but still...).

I outlasted 'em all! I am the old maid! What do I win? I'm hoping for the trip to Tahiti or a new car.

You know, a hundred years ago, I really would be an old maid. Nowdays I'm just another normal 25 year-old. Is it our lengthened lifespans that are pushing the marraige age back? The fact that women are more educated, more independent, and less likely to need to get married? The fact that we just don't find lifetime monogamy interesting? Is this a positive or negative trend. I tend to think it's positive, but then again, I'm not married and have never felt a desire to be married to any specific person. I do know a few women who just want to "settle down and get married," but most of the people I know are not looking to just get married. They want to marry the right person, not just marry.

I really think we're "settling" less. Getting married isn't a goal, it's (hopefully) a usually-pleasant result of a good relationship. I really think that this attitude, especially as it relates to the females of the species, is a result of our increased social and financial independence. Single women are able to take care of themselves better and in greater numbers than ever before. We have the luxury of waiting until we WANT to be married... be that at age 20 or age 40. We are not socially ostracized or pitied, at least not by most. Yeah, there's still that "single woman home alone with her cats" myth, but most people recognize it for what it is... a mostly-false myth.

Most of my married friends are happy. So are most of my unmarried friends. My married friends who are happy in their marriage were happy before they got married, and my unhappy married friends were unhappy before they got married. In these modern times, we have more choices than ever... and that makes the results 100% our responsibility. Having not been (and keep in mind I'm talking about the U.S. here; this is by no means global) forced, goaded, or out-of-options-ed into marraige, we succeed and/or fail on our own. If a marriage totally sucks, the couple can CHOOSE to stick it out or they can CHOOSE to end it. We're not forced (at least not to as great an extent as in previous generations) to stick it out for social and financial reasons. Is our divorce rate higher than it was before we had these choices? HELL YES. But I'd bet that there are more happy people (single, divorced, and married) than there were before those choices were available, too.

No Title Needed

11 days of school, including today!

I just felt you needed to know that.

Connections

I'm trying my best to make social connections outside of the other "young lady teachers" in teacher housing... because all of them will be gone next year. Our school is experiencing the turnover that is cyclically a reality in these parts. We're losing the vast majority of our elementary teachers (although two are just taking a year off to work on their masters) and one high school teacher. Next year should be... interesting.

Anyway, I don't want to return next year and have to start all over, so I'm trying to branch out and make at least casual social relationships with other people. Last night, one of the teacher aides and I walked to the beach. Walking has become the cool thing for staff to do, since this nurse came from Bethel to do a diabetes presentation and gave us the opportunity to get free pedometers and participate in a "Walk the Iditarod" (metaphorically, of course) program. It was good to not only hang out with someone new, but with someone who has lived in the village all her life. We have a surprising amount in common, all things considered.

I can't say I'm looking forward to a whole new batch of teachers coming in next year, but even if it completely sucks, at least I'll get to meet and get to know new people, which is always fun.

Not Shocking

Your Linguistic Profile:

70% General American English

15% Upper Midwestern

15% Yankee

0% Dixie

0% Midwestern

What Kind of American English Do You Speak?

"There's Nary an Animal Alive that can Outrun a Greased Scotsman"

Random Groundskeeper Willie quote for a title because I'm feeling a little ADHD and off the wall this evening. I guess it beats the bitchy-teacher-from-hell mood I was in this afternoon. My thoughts are as follows:

1. Jon Stewart will be mine. I realize that he his happily married with a child and is too old for me, but nonetheless, he shall be mine. My love for him grows exponentially by the day... Not that I'm a stalker or anything. *looks around furtively*

2. I can't wait until summer vacation. 15 days of school remaining... when it gets into single digits I will likely become unbearable. Full pay, flush toilets, and no work... can I get a HELL YES.

3. I can't wait until next year starts. Now that I actually understand all the aspects of my job, I feel like I can start working for real.

4. What kind of beer should I drink first to start off my summer? I'm taking recommendations.

5. Why haven't some people, by their mid-twenties, escaped the high school mentality?

6. If I can't have Jon Stewart, Brad Pitt will also do.

7. You can't control Ma Nature. Snowmelt and a little rain, combined with a perpetual tendency to change, have caused a small river that is usually diverted under our village's main road to... um... cross the road. So now you're driving along, minding your own business, when all the sudden, there's five feet of river to cross. I've taken to walking. Crossing a hastily-thrown-down plank bridge across a river that wasn't there a week ago is kinda fun. One day last week the plank fell in the water and I helped put it back.

8. Mom and Dad, remember that fishing rod and reel you bought me for Christmas? Well, the rivers are open and meat is expensive up here... can I have my fishing pole?

9. Our phone is dead. After being very shifty for a long while (those who have called me can attest to the fact that the connection has gotten worse and worse over the past few months), our line is now completely dead. No dial tone, even. Call me at school if you need to!

10. September seems so long ago... I was a totally different person then. More on this at a later date, as it's totally worthy of its own post as the school year draws to a close.

Geographic Weakness

Two friends are going through rough times lately... both are faced with losing (having lost in one case or being at risk of losing in the other) friends. Neither friend-of-mine knows the other, although I know I've mentioned each to the other at one point or another. I've never met the friends-of-theirs in person, so the pain isn't my own.

But (and isn't there always a but)... I'm a helper. I'm the kid who, in kindergarten, had to take an art project home because I wandered around helping other kids finish theirs and never did quite get around to doing my own. I'd love nothing more than to give each of them a big hug, bring them hot chocolate or beer or something. Put a little change in the karma jar in exchange for all the stuff that people have done for me when I've needed it. Encouraging e-mails just don't do their feelings justice, I don't think.

Being far away can suck.

Wow, three posts in one day. That's just excessive. Especially since two of them have been long. That's it, I'm cut off.

*Whew!*

So those voices in my head DON'T mean I'm crazy. It's just one of these.

Good to know.

If you think about it, it IS some scary technology. They can make us hear things now... things that no one else can hear...

Every Year, I Forget

Every year around this time (OK, earlier in the Lower 48), I'm reminded of just how beautiful and wonderful the world around us can be. I'm talking, of course, about SPRING!

After a wonderfully lazy morning, I stepped out the door to find weather somewhere in the 50s (I think)... cloudless sunshine... kids riding around on their bikes with soaked pant legs... adults out fixing things... planes flying, landing, and delivering mail and people with no problems... geese and ducks returning... you get the idea. That it was 15 degrees and blowing (quite painfully, I might add) snow only four days ago is almost unimaginable.

This is why I love living in a varying climate. I love changes in weather. Every year, I just want to skip and dance and run nekkid through the fields (metaphorically, of course, Mom and Dad) when it finally warms up... and then, come fall, I relish putting on jeans and sweatshirts and jackets and sweaters. I think it appeals to the short-attention-spannedness of my personality to be constantly able to look forward to a change. Ever notice how, every year, the first time it "smells like snow" and the first time it "smells like spring" seem special? Never mind that I'll soon be sick to death of heat and mosquitoes and humidity and being sweaty, and every winter I'm soon sick to death of having to take 10 minutes just to get dressed to brave the cold, and I'm five seconds from trading my soul for five minutes of tropical sunshine...

Countdowns

19 more school days until summer vacaaaaaaaaaaation.

AND eight months (and a few days) until Ma, Pa, Sis #1 and Sis #2 go to HAWAII!

AND a month and a few days until my (markedly unmomentous) 26th birthday.

Avocadogasm

There are bananas, avocados, and melons at the store! Oh, it was sooooo gooooooood...

We haven't had fresh fruit or veggies at the store in a while... I made guacamole last night and it was the greatest guac I've ever had, despite the fact that I couldn't add the little bit of sour cream that I usually do. It was yuuuummmmyyyyy....

Insanity, Carefully Measured and Monitored

It's Cultural Week here at Kuinerrarmiut Elitnaurviat. Basically, every afternoon, the different age groups (k-2, 3-6, and Jr High/High School) get to say ix-nay on the egular-ray asses-clay and do cultural activities. Since I don't have "my" own classroom (I pull out other people's students), I am helping out with the high school girls' activities. We get to make leather-and-fur baby booties, bead bracelets, and qaspeqs.

Nicely put, it's chaotic. Managed, organized chaos, but chaos. I like structure in my life, so it's a challenge to let go of my desire to make everything quiet, organized, and calm. I'm trying my hardest, really.

What Weekend?

I was ALL pumped for Trivia weekend. Trivia Plan (version 1): stay at the school for most of the weekend, where the internet connection is good, and play to my heart's content. Ah, the best laid plans of mice, men, and Trivia Fiends...

Friday morning, I awoke to a peculiar gurgling in my stomach. Thinking it was a mild case of the revenge of the curry from the night before, I tied my best to ignore it, and went about my day. By 10AM, however, there was no denying it... i had either food poisoning, the flu, or some mysterious tropical disease recently migrated to the sub-Arctic. I may or may not have puked four times.

Made it to 3pm, which was the end of the work day. My (revised, now we're on version 2) Trivia Plan at that point was to go home, sleep for a few hours, then attempt to help out the late-night crew down in WI. Seemed like a good idea. Maybe I just had to sleep it off. Got home at 3:05. Was in bed by 3:06, clothing and all. Woke up at one point to use the bathroom and let the dog out. Might have hopped online at that point, I'm not sure. Searched for Tylenol. Realized it was at school. Fell back asleep. Woke up at... ???... I'm really not sure. I KNOW I played for an hour at some point in the night. I also happened to take my temperature at this juncture and it read 102.5. Asked Roomie for Tylenol. Roomie's Tylenol was also at school. Roomie went back to school for the slumber party she was hosting for her class. Went back to sleep. Woke up later, still simultaneously shivering and burning.

Went back to sleep. Woke up at 10:30. At this point I had been sleeping for... 19 hours? Granted, it wasn't quality sleep. When I get sick, I get super-achy and my skin gets really sensitive. The goosebumps from the shivering HURT, dammit.

Tried to play a little Trivia. Slept some more. Played again that night until about 2:30 AM AK time, when the random cold pill (which I didn't need for the decongestant or cough supression but the fever reducer was working quite nicely... and yes, I checked with Roomie, it was quite safe and from last year) I discovered in the medicine cabinet wore off.

Woke up on Sunday... FEELING FINE! A little headachy and dizzy from not eating for two days, but otherwise fine. Played Trivia until midnight, WI time. We took 12th. Shibby's team took 7th. Congrats.

I feel, however, like I got cheated out of a weekend. I slept for most of it! No Fair!

Trivial Honors

In honor of the world's largest Trivia Contest, I would like to present the following poem.

Shibby is a trivia dummy.
Questions give him an upset tummy
He's nat'rally limited, this is true,
But there's really not much we can do.
He's terminally, eternally, totally, incredibly crummy.

Not high-quality, I realize this. But true, nonetheless.

I'm gonna whine a bit.

What a bad day. Standardized testing, one serious issue with a student, and all on not enough sleep last night.

And on top of it all, I'm hungry.

On the upside, however, when my Trivia team whomps Shibby's trivia team, I will get free dinner and drinks. Oh, those greasy cheese fries from the Springville Wharf in Plover, WI... and a beer... and maybe a bloody mary. And the best part? none of it's coming out of my wallet because we're going to smack them down like the little biznatches they are.

They Happen In Threes

So... the Pope is on his way out. He's been sick for a long time. Good leader, good life story... can't say he has done all he could to better the Catholic church in my eyes, but when someone's on his/her deathbead, it's generally a time to look at the good. And anyway, he's real tight with the big guy so it's probably better to not diss him too much. ;-)

Schiavo's gone. She's been really gone for years, but now she's officially gone. That a tragic family squabble over a very serious issue became a national incident is a sad statement on the nature of our political figureheads. 'Nuff said.

Johnnie Cochrain's gone. Don't feel like that one has any emotional impact on me, positive or negative. He defended OJ, for chrissake.

Well, these things always happen in threes. There are our three.

Why not? We've come this far...

I've decided that I want the cold weather to stick around for at least two more days... just so I can say it's 20 below zero in April. I mean, if it's going to be that cold, what's a few more days?

Happy... January?

It's 10 below zero right now.

No further commentary necessary.

Although... the walk in to school this morning DID serve as a refreshing wake-up.

So, Um

It's the day after Easter.

Nothing says "Happy Easter" like fresh knee-deep snowdrifts, huh?

But hey, we're getting more sunlight... that's a very, very good thing.


March 28, 2005 Sun Rise Sun Set
Actual Time 7:21 AM AKST 8:19 PM AKST
Civil Twilight 6:39 AM AKST 9:01 PM AKST

Allow me to wax bitchy for a minute...

Why did President Bush wait four days to make a statement of sympathy for the victims and their families of the Red Lake school shooting? If memory serves, Clinton made such a statement within HOURS of a very similar shooting in Littleton, CO. Now, I'm not Bill Clinton's biggest fan, but sheesh. It took Bush four days to put together a five-minute phone call to the Red Lake Band's chairman, and five days to put together a public statement.

Far be it from me to cry racial foul when none exists, but the victims and perpetrators in Columbine were White, the victims and perpetrators in Red Lake were (all? mostly?) Native American. So, either Bush is a phenomenal idiot and just didn't see that a public statement of sympthy was probably in order, or he's a racist bastard, even if it is in the most clueless sense of the word.

*sigh*

And on a much more positive note... You may remember a while ago I mentioned some of our junior high students won the AK state Native Science Fair and were going on to nationals. Well, we got a call at home this morning form nationals in New Mexico... our students took second place! Their project, which compared heat loss in a traditional Yup'ik sod home and a modern insulated frame home, was way cool... and a well-executed exercise in the scientific method.

Anyway, they are awesome. There should be a link in the local newspaper next week... I'll post it and force you to read it. ;-)

excuse me while my head explodes

So. How's my week been?

I'm in the midst of testing all of our LEP (Limited English Proficiency) students. In dealing with the K-6 students, I have to test each of them on oral comprehension and production (known in the normal human world as listening and speaking), then administer a reading/writing test. here's the catch... nearly ALL of the students at our school are LEP. That's over 100 students that I have to test. There's only one version of the test, so I have to ask the same inane questions about the same inane pictures over and over and over and over and over and over and over... only to have my (educated, but not No Child Left Behind-sanctioned) infomal evaluation of a given student's language level affirmed. Well, there have been a few surprises, but for the most part, I can predict what level they'll test at. I know that having consistency in testing is important, but didn't they consider Teacher Sanity Levels at ALL while designing these tests?!

It sucks.

See, what I like about teaching is that it provides consistency and structure (which I need in my life) but it's not monotonous (which would drive me insane). Testing has thrown both of those out the window... I'm no longer operating on my normal schedule AND I'm having to do very tedious, repetitive, somewhat mindless work.

Next week, our students take their Big Scary State Test. Then we get the results and find out that (SURPRISE!) our students didn't score as well as someone thousands of miles away says they should. Must be my fault. Never mind that a given student may have scored better than next year... if he's still below an acceptable level, we clearly haven't done a good job. Sure he was two years behind grade level last year and now he's only one year behind, but dammit, what's wrong with our school?

All hail Standardized Testing!

I'm BAAAAAAAAACK

Made it safe and sound (no travel delays in EITHER DIRECTION this time; the gods were smiling down on me) to the village. School started uneventfully if a little late (late start today due to weather) and I'm trying my best to get myself and my students settled back into academic life after a week of fishing, hunting, and playing (for them) and drinking, eating and playing (for me).

Anyway, for those of you who know me personally, and would have cause to call me, and attempted to do so yesterday, you may have noticed that our phone is a big piece of crap. It doesn't work when it's windy (something's wrong with our line outside), and it was windy as a mothaf***a yesterday. The phone rang a bunch of times, but I couldn't even tell who was on the other end. So if it was you... sorry! Hopefully the wind will die down (it seems a little better today) and it will again be functional. If not, call me at school.

So... vacation recap: Therese and Pasha and their housemates are AWESOME! I cannot stress this enough. They rock. San Francisco is a kickass town and I want to go back again and be able to stay longer. So much to see, so little time. Monterey is also cool. Very interesting town, population-wise... bunch of college students (international and domestic), bunch of military folks, bunch of retirees. St Patrick's day is a great holiday because it's really just all about the drinking.

Going from the village to California was a little (ok, a lot) surreal. I mean, they have wineries and sushi restaurants and all that stuff. Scary multi-lane highways. People I haven't seen before. All sorts of stuff that is perfectly normal for the rest of the country but completely outside the realm of my everyday experience.

It was fun, and I'd love to go back... but it's good to be back.

I'm Shocked

So I got sent to purgatory... I thought FOR SURE I'd get sent to Limbo at least.

I feel like I'm not living life to the fullest if I'm not eligible for at least the first level of Dante's Inferno

The Dante's Inferno Test has sent you to Purgatory!
Here is how you matched up against all the levels:

Level	Score
Purgatory (Repenting Believers)	Extreme
Level 1 - Limbo (Virtuous Non-Believers)	High
Level 2 (Lustful)	High
Level 3 (Gluttonous)	Very Low
Level 4 (Prodigal and Avaricious)	Very Low
Level 5 (Wrathful and Gloomy)	Low
Level 6 - The City of Dis (Heretics)	Very Low
Level 7 (Violent)	Moderate
Level 8- the Malebolge (Fraudulent, Malicious, Panderers)	Low
Level 9 - Cocytus (Treacherous)	Very Low

Take the Dante's Inferno Hell Test

A tough decision

Tomorrow, I will face an important decision.

Should I loaf about or just lounge around?

Vacation is rough.

Hello From California!

I arrived safely (and ON TIME!) last night at 7pm Western. We spent the night in San Francisco last night... hit a couple bars, saw some live cuban music, went to the bathroom in a flush toilet...

And now we're off to wander around San Francisco!

Ritual

For us unattached, non-sport-playing, non-against-leg-shaving-as-a-general-rule women, we eventually reach a moment at which we must bite the bullet and de-fuzz. In many cases, such as mine, it arises out of simple desire. I'm perfectly aware that I do not need to shave. I am just fine with my leg hair. We're friends, even. Thus the whole not shaving through the dark months and not caring who sees me in my shorts. After a while, I kind of started to like the fuzz. Besides, we have body hair to regulate body temperature, and I live in freakin Alaska. A little fuzz is more than appropriate, sez I.

Yesterday, though, I shaved. I'm going to Cali-freakin-fornia, and it just seemed like as good a time as any. And for some sick, twisted reason, I got to thinking... let's say Aliens were studying our planet and practices. They might see this First Shaving After A Very Long Time might appear to be a seasonal riual of some sort. How might their anthropological notes on the matter look?

You women out there know the ritual. First, you make sure you have PLENTY of time and a fresh razor blade. Maybe put on some music, although I didn't go this route. Announce to those around that you are going to perform the ritual ("Hey Roomie, I'm going to shave my legs!"). Now, this is not generally a public ritual, although there are no strict rules prohibiting it. Generally, however, the practitioner secludes herself in the ritual chamber ("bathroom"). At this point, the specific rites can vary. Many women choose to disrobe entirely and completely immerse in water (a "bath"), or stand under a spray of water (a "shower"). Others choose to only partially undress and only bathe the legs.

Thus begins the First Shaving Of The Legs After A Very Long Time. The shaving process, while fairly routine during the summer months, can present the woman with some difficulty the first time around. The shaving implement (A "razor") has to be cleansed ("rinsed") repeatedly to keep it in good working order.

After the ritual, the woman emerges from the ritual chamber refreshed and ready to face a season of short- and skirt-wearing. She may now announce to all that she has shaved, and allow others to "feel how smooth they are." Subsequent summer shavings are far less formal and time-consuming, but the woman my perform the First Shaving Of The Legs After A Very Long Time whenever she feels it is appropriate.

So... like...

I'll be heading out to California in two days. Therese and Pasha have vodka waiting for me.

This is going to kick ass.

A Recommendation

If you're looking for a movie to make you think (minus flashy musical score and gripping action scenes and blah blah blah), rent Rabbit Proof Fence.

Basically... three Australian Aboriginal girls were taken from their homes and put into a "school" far from their homes. But those damn heathen girls for some reason (please please please read the sarcasm I tried to write in there) didn't like the idea of being taken away from their parents. Anyway, long story short, they walked across the Australian bush, evading capture.

Like I said, it's not a Hollywood-style movie during which you can turn your brain off and be passively entertained. Frankly, it's not that exciting a movie if you're expecting an action-filled chase across the wilds of Australia. Most of it is just the three girls... walking, getting food, figuring out whether they can trust people along the way. But somewhere in the middle of the movie, you find yourself invested in their story and their wellbeing. You want them to make it home. The girls they had play the parts are not professional actresses; they're just Aboriginal kids they found who could act. As a result, the performances aren't polished, but they're heartfelt... you can tell these girls grew up hearing stories like this from parents/grandparents and that they know exactly what they're talking about.

See it if you think it's your thing.

Enough about that. I need to get back to work.

F#*$ING GRADES!

End-of-quarter is here again. Teachers, you know what I mean.

WAAAAAAAH

It's Saturday and we have to work. It's also pretty nice out (clear and not too cold, a little wind but not too bad), which makes it all the more painful to be here working on grades and planning for next year...

Although...

Planning for how to better serve my students next year is much more exciting than entering grades into a computer system that likes to shut down on a whim. Guess which one I'm doing first?

Visitors From Another Pay Grade

District Office and State Department of Education folks are visiting today...

Funny how the everyday act of teaching becomes more stressful under the watchful (but overall very friendly) eyes of the superiors...

A Swift Self-Kick in the Pants (Boring Teacher Post)

I've been a bit lazy lately. It's February. February can be a long month. My desk wasn't so much a work station as a storage unit. I could barely work at it. Those who know me know that if my surroundings are messy, I don't function well. Yesterday, I decided I'd had it. I've known for months how I want my classroom set up, but I haven't had the desire to take a full day out of my weekend to do the work.

Yesterday was that day.

My desk is in a new, better place... blocking off the little niche of my room where the filing cabinets, microwave and little fridge are located. My students know that my desk is my space, but now there's no question that the area by the files and food is also my personal space.

It's also nice because I've finally figured my job out, meaning that I can organize my classroom around what I need, not what I think I might maybe need. Sheesh, it only took me six months to figure out and an a 12-hour Sunday of work to get right.

First year teaching is a bitch. Like I said to our dean of students today... I've got a "What I'll do differently next year" list that's really more of an epic novel.

Happy Birthday, Dad

OK, it's not your birthday here yet... a half hour to go.

I won't tell how old you are in this public forum... One day closer to retirement will suffice.

Thanks for everything you've done for me and my sisters over the years! Mom, too, but she'll get her own on her birthday.

Ice Fishing

I took a bunch of kids ice fishing today. Ice fishing the old-fashioned way: with sticks that have fishing line tied to them. We were smelt fishing (small fish) and darn if it wasn't fun.

At about noon, a student came to get me. Roomie gave us a ride out to where the fishin's good (and where other people have already drilled holes). On the way, we picked up about four other kids, drove them to their houses to get outfitted in snowpants, etc, and FINALLY got to the ice fishing spot at ten after one.

Let the good times commence. On our walk from the road to the spot, we picked up two more kids. Once we got out there, we found our school secretary already there, along with two students and their dad, and some other folks.

Since we had picked up the two extra kids, we were now short two "iqseks" (sticks for fishing, don't quote me on the spelling). As a result, I only got to fish for about five minutes, but I did bring in two fish, plus the one that got snagged just as I handed my stick to a student... so I count it as three. Three little tiny fish which I gave to a student since it's not worth it to keep smelt unless you've got a bunch to make soup or something.

Good times, good times.

Stomach Flu

Yup, that was fun. I got the one-day stomach flu that's been going around town. No fun, let me tell you. I went to bed feeling fine, then woke up wanting to puke my guts out. Went into work for a little while to do up sub stuff (was TOTALLY not prepared to be sick; it hit that quickly), then headed home to be miserable.

But I'm all better now. Life is good.

The Blahs

It's February, it's time for the February Funk.

How can the shortest month of the year ALWAYS feel like it drags on and on and on and on and on? Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah.

On a more positive note, I'm losing weight. Nothing huge; I'm averaging a pound a week or so, but something's better than nothing, right? Even with my fatty feast at New Teacher Inservice last weekend that included seal, beluga whale, I still lost my pound for the week.

Also on a positive note, the sun was (BARELY) starting to come up when I walked to school yesterday at 7:45. No significant light, but it was something to celebrate. I'm kinda sad that I'm here for the long nights and that I'm not going to be here to enjoy the long days. I do, however, want to come back a week or two early and do some berry picking and maybe gathering of some plants that are supposed to be good for making tea when you're congested. My dad wants to come and go fishing... he can do traditional man stuff and I can do traditional woman stuff. Because I'm SOOOOOOOOO tradtional. ;-)

Check It Out!

Gizoogle

My blog translated: http://sites.gizoogle.com/?url=http://smaccalaska.blogspot.com

Don't click on this if a few f-bombs scare you. SO GREAT!

So Neglectful

Yes, I've been a bad blogger. BAD SARA! BAD BAD SARA!

Had the most harrowing take-off of my brief bush teaching career. This afternoon, I had to go into Bethel for our last (!) New Teacher Inservice. Waiting at the airport where there were no buildings, I noticed even more than in the village how windy it was. The guy who gave me a ride there (the local agent for that specific airline) said about 40 knots or so. The plane landed, but wasn't able to turn the corner to meet us on the access area (where trucks and cars and stuff pull up to the planes). So we drove out onto the (still gravel) runway.

Got into the plane, which was shaking quite nicely in the wind, mind you. The pilot turned to me and said "We're going to take off going this way, it that all right with you?" He kind of gestured out in front of the plane.

I nodded, mostly out of good midwestern politeness, without really taking the time to think about it. Bush pilots generally know their shit. Only after the engine had started up did I look out the front of the airplane... we only had maybe 1/3 of the runway in front of us. This is not a long, paved, can-land-jets kind of runway to start with, so 1/3 of it is pretty dang short.

I think to myself, he's not going to go that way, I must have misunderstood him. Oh, but I didn't.

So we start moving forward. Now, I know that you're supposed to take off into the wind, but I figured we'd go to the other end of the runway, or at least part of the way down, before turning around and taking off. But noooooooooooooooo. We just went. Straight forward, towards the place where a few orange airport cone thingies marked the place where the runway drops off into the tundra.

I'm usually a fairly relaxed flier and I pride myself on not shrieking or tensing up when we go over big wind bumps, but I'll freely and gladly admit that were I not a compulsive nailbiter, I would have had fingernail marks on my hands from clenching them so tightly. We made it into the air going pretty slow (strong winds are good for that) and climbed basically straight up. I'd never ascended that quickly in a bush plane before.

Maybe I should have said "No, it's not OK if we take off on this little mini-chunk of runway. Turn around and do it proper." But from what the pilot told me after we landed, turning the plane around in that wind would have flipped it over... that's why he didn't make the turn to come over to the loading/unloading area. So had I said no, I would have had a choice to either get off the plane or suck it up and take it like a woman.

Got to Bethel just fine and am now relaxing at the bed-and-breakfast (or what passes for one in Bethel) with a friend from another village. Said friend informed me that calories don't count in Bethel (the stress of being in Bethel makes up for any calories that you take in). I decided that was a wonderful thing and proceeded to order a double bacon pineapple cheeseburger.

Randomness

I dyed my hair last night. No big deal, nothing wild or crazy, I just wanted to add some red to it. I'm fairly disappointed with the results... you can hardly see a difference. Grr. But it was a good evening's worth of entertainment. Roomie is weathered in another village with our entire jr high basketball team, so I've been having to entertain myself. Monday night: baked bread. Tuesday night: dyed hair. She better get in today or I'll have to resort to cleaning.

150 days until the new Harry Potter book comes out. I have it on pre-order to be sent to my parents' address since I won't be here. How much of a childish geek am I?

I came back from the bilingual conference with a renewed zest for teaching. If only I had had time to lesson plan, this would be an amazing week of educational wonder. Instead it's so-so.

I had beer in Anchorage. Four of them. They were good. If you're ever in Alaska and you like dark beer, try the Alaskan Smoked Porter. You won't regret it.

Why I'm not going to sleep on bush planes anymore

We got stuck in Bethel overnight coming back from Anchorage because of bad weather (it was actually a pleasant experience for once since I had people to stay with), and we got out this afternoon after almost four hours of waiting at the airport. As soon as we take off, I doze off. I can't normally sleep on planes or in cars, but for some reason the loud background nose and vibrations of the bush plans put me right to sleep.

Now, before we left had Bethel, the people at the aiport had put up a sign saying that there was a lost snowmachiner somewhere north of Eek who had been missing since last night. I had half thought at the time "Hey, I should keep an eye out, we're heading south and will pass right over Eek." But, like I said, bush planes put me to sleep, scary wind-induced bumps and all.

Anyway, after a while I awake and feel Liz (kindergarten teacher) tugging on the sleeve of the pilot, who is sitting next to me. She points down at the ground, and sure enough, there are two men and a snowmachine (snowmobile) next to a little shack that I think is usually used in the summer for fishing, but I didn't ask. The men had just shot off a flare and were waving their arms.

So anyway, we circled around, dropped down real low, and waved to them. They were waving their gas can... either they ran out of gas or it was just something bright colored to wave, I don't know which. The pilot called on the radio for them to send the State Troopers. We circled around again, tipped our wings back and forth at them, and continued on.

The whole thing made an otherwise routine (and extra slow, we had a 40 knot headwind the whole way, according to the pilot) trip a little more interesting. I couldn't fall back asleep afterwards.

Silly. Bizarre. RiDONKulous.

Saw this link on The One and Only Chickscum's website and just don't get it. Apparently the state of Virginia (or at least one dude in said state) might like to, indeed, employ fashion police. Some legislator introduced a bill that would make it illegal to wear pants with your underwear showing.

I find that particular fashion statement to be fairly useless and impractical, but is it really legislation-worthy? I thought the fact that wearing pants that show your underwear prevents you from being taken seriously in the job market would be enough to eventually sway most people from this ill-advised fashion trend. And even if this is not the case, is this really a good use of a lawmaker's time and energy? Jesucristo, the taxpayers in his state are paying this guy to make real laws, not try to ban fashion trends that annoy people.

In the spirit of Draconican Fashion Police Virginia State Legislator Man, the following is a list of fashion trends that I have decided I do not personally care for. Some of these fashion crimes I have fallen victim to over the years, but I have seen the error of my ways. Hey, if this guy can ban saggy pants because they annoy him, why can't I do the same? I will be submitting a laundry list (pun unintended, but recognized and not deleted) of fashion trends that I expect to be banned by the Alaska state legislature this session. Please call your legistlator and ask that he/she do the same.

Fashion Trends to be Banned Under the So-Called "Sara's Law"

1. Kulats (culats? koo-lats? *shrugs*) or however the hell you spell them. If you want to wear a skirt, wear a skirt. If you want to wear shorts, wear shorts. Splitting the difference is in no one's best interest.

2. Those shirts that have fake vests sewn onto ONLY the front. Sew a fake vest back onto them and they'll be fine. I just don't like the lack of consistency in having a fake vest in front and not in back.

3. Cowboy boots on anyone who doesn't own a single farm animal unless he/she is wearing them as an ironic statement.

4. FUBU on white people.

5. Mullets, unless they are amusing to me personally. Most are just sad, though, so special permission will have to be granted through the state Department of Things That Piss Sara Off.

There are more. Many more. Please see me if you have a question about a specific fashion trend.

Just Gotta Share

I figure since I exposed you guys to the worst of Quinhagak (the massive-by-village-standards dope bust), I'll keep you informed of the good, as well.

A group of junior high students competed in the district's science fair, and won it. The requirements for the project were to combin native knowledge and culture with modern scientific techniques. They won the district contest, and went on to the state competition. They won! Their project was hella-cool, I have to admit. They built a miniature model of a traditional Yup'ik sod home, as well as a miniature model of a frame house (with insulation and everything), then compared heat retention in both houses. The sod house won out, but not by much.

And on a somewhat unrelated note, I'm watching ABC, waiting for the AK news to come on because our students were interviewed, and the show Wife Swap is on. Bear in mind that this is not something I would EVER watch under any other circumstances. Anyway, this one mother is ranting and raving at a lesbian couple, saying that they are immoral and... what was her word... oh right, depraved for allowing themselves to be near her children. Now, I like guys as much as the next straight gal, but to call someone depraved to his/her face?! Just for their sexual preference?! These were the least in-your-face lesbians ever! Sheesh, I know straight girls who are more butch than these women were. There are some nasty people I will just never understand and who, quite frankly, I have no desire to understand. Maybe that makes me closed-minded, I don't know.

Anyway, yay for Quinhagak science fair participants, boo for bigoted scary bible-thumping bitches who couldn't be any less Christian-acting if they tried, and yay again for flush plumbing and bathtubs.

Flush Toilets and a Bath

Ah, the simple pleasures.

Seriously, I've been sniffly, sore-throaty sick all week. I'm still feeling a little under the weather, but MUCH better since I took a nice long, bath with eucalyptis bubble bath. I just went out at lunch to get some bubble bath, but saw that it said "For the Cold Season" on it. It might be (probably is) just a placebo effect, but I really felt a lot better afterwards.

Going to dinner soon with the one non-school person I know in the state of Alaska. Should be fun. I will drink beer. It will be good.

And with that, I'm off!

Bitching and Moaning

Stupid runny nose has settled in my throat and chest.

Stupid weather is being nasty, hope I can get out of the village tomorrow to go to Anchorage.

Stupid water plant is having issues so we've been in "water conservation mode" for the past few days. No laundry, no showering because they couldn't fill our water tanks and we didn't want to run out. I'm showering at the school today.

Stupid stupid stupid stupid.

*Raging bitch mode off*

I'm About Due for a Honey Bucket Post

The usual warning when it comes to honey bucket posts: if poop and pee talk offends you, stop. Then again, if poop and pee talk really, truly offends you, we probably have little in common... and we know for sure that you're not a primary school teacher.

Let me tell you... you want to stay humble? Keep your feet firmly planted on the ground? For one week, personally dispose of your own wastes.

So my roommate and I were having a very high-minded conversation about race relations and other such lofty things. It was a very intellectually stimulating conversation and I was thinking, "Wow, we really are smart people, Roomie and I." Just then, I realized that tonight was my night on honey bucket dumping duty. So there I was, with my almost-complete masters degree, fresh out of a spirited conversation on race expectations in various parts of the United States, dumping a tied-off plastic bag of pee and anuq out of a ten-gallon pail into a small dumpster already containing a few of my neighbors' tied-off bags in the freezing darkness. Talk about a return to the real world.

It does serve as a reminder that people are, in the end, nothing but big poop machines.

Lazy Sunday

Maybe it all started in my youth when, after church (we actually went every week back then...), we would would stop at the bakery and get one doughnut each (but ONLY if we had behaved in church), come home, eat brunch and the doughnuts, then promptly spend the rest of the afternoon either watching football or, in the off-season, being generally idle.

However it started, I don't consider myself ready to face the coming week unless I've had at least three hours of slothfulness on Sunday afternoon.

You may call me...

I had to get a Yup'ik name for my Yup'ik language class... Our first assignment was to ask someone to give us a name.

So, like a good little homework-doing student, I went to one of the teachers and asked her to give me a name. Asked her to please make it one that I could pronounce.

She looked at me for a while, thinking. I kinda stood there, feeling like I was being evaluated or something. A bit uncomfortable, really, but that's ok.

Finally, she speaks---

Her: How about Aciuvaliralria?

Me: Um, what?

Her: (slower) A-ciu-va-li-ral-ria. Aciu for short.

Me: Um, could you write that down?

Her: Yeah, that's probably a good idea.

So yeah. Something I can pronounce. Sure. ;-)

From the Mouths of Babes

I thought we'd read Curious George in kindergarten. It's a good book, really. Over the course of a few days, I read them the book, we did some language-related activities using the story, and on the last day they got to do a coloring page.

Said coloring page was just something I found on the internet. In the picture, George is holding the Man With The Yellow Hat's yellow hat. So... I have them get out their crayons, we settle back down on the circle for some serious coloring time. I pass out the pages.

One of the cutest, smartest, tiniest kindergarteners looks down at his page, looks up at me, looks down again, looks up again and says, "Sara, the hat is covering his dick."

Oy.

I really, really, really wanted to be teacher-like and talk seriously about what words we use and do not use in school, but it was hard to do that because I was overtaken with a sudden case of the giggles. I had to turn my back so he wouldn't see that I was really very amused by his somewhat-inappropriate-for-school comment.

I talked it over with the kindergarten classroom teacher (a local, yup'ik, veteran teacher who I absolutely have immense respect for and hesitate to call a coworker because, let's face it, she could kick my ass in a head-to-head teaching competition, even if she's not certified), and she said, "Oh, don't worry, I laugh at the stuff they say all the time."

One of my other coworkers said "Hey, you could have complimented him on good use of the correct gender posessive pronoun," because, you see, Yup'ik doesn't have separate words for he and she, or his and her. But that would have also involved keeping a straight face.

Well, I did it...

I bought tickets to California for spring break. Gonna go visit my friend Therese'... I guess since I never made it to Russia while she was living there, California is the next best thing.

It Starts

Ladies and gentlemen, in a half hour I will be starting my conversational Central Yup'ik class. Wish me luck... I'm sure I'll need it.

Don't get me wrong, I love learning and learning about different languages. It's the nerdiest of my nerdy interests. BUT, that means diddly squat if I don't have time to study my vocab lists. I have a long and storied history of biting off more than I can chew... hope this isn't one of those instances. Is my first year of teaching really a good time to pick up a new language? Probably not.

Oh well, I hear the teacher grades pretty easy...

I'm sounding like a student already.

I'm Such a Dork

I decided to make felt board pieces to go along with "The Little Red Hen." You know, little pieces made out of felt that you can stick on the storyboard while telling the story.

Anyway, I'm having WAY too much fun doing it. Seriously, it's just me, a bag of felt squares, a pair of scissors, a hot glue gun (eek!), and Sirius Satellite Radio Left of Center College Rock (comes with our TV package).

I'm thinking about doing up a set for the Three Little Pigs while I'm on a roll...

Village Basketball

This is not exactly what you'd call a hoppin' town when it comes to night life. Last night, the big event in town was the junior high basketball game. Basketball is huuuuuuuuuuuuuge up here. It's a sport that can be played indoors year round (or outdoors... I've seen kids shooting around on the ice that currently covers the village), and for some reason it's really caught on here.

Anyway, our junior high team is a coed one. Many of the villages have coed teams. Three girls, five boys. Both of the visiting teams had coed teams... one had two girls on their team and one had four. Basically, what you do is, depending on the gender ratios of the teams playing, decide how many girls and boys will be on the court at a given time.

Game 1: Quinhagak vs. Eek. We (Quin) one easily.
Game 2: Kongiganak vs Eek. Kong won easily.
Game 3: Quinhagak vs Kongiganak. Kong won by 7 points. Exciting game, but while our players matched theirs in athleticism, we just had a much younger (therefore smaller) team than they did.

Crowd participation was amazing. even during the Kong vs Eek game, everyone stayed, watched, and cheered... even though no spectators made the trips from either village. Eek is pretty close to our village, so I'd say that the crowd was more pro-Eek, but exciting plays from both teams got loud cheers.

The ONE time I don't have my camera

I walked home from school last night, and what did I come across but several of the kidnergarteners and first graders... ICE SKATING ON THE MAIN ROAD. See, a week or so ago, it got really warm and kinda icy-rained. Since then, the temp's been hovering around zero with no further precip. Thus, our main road is glare ice.

Anyway, since I had decided that I've wasted alltogether too much time lately either farting around online or watching TV, I made last night a low-tech night. Didn't even bring my computer home. Unfortunately, I keep my camera in my computer bag. So when I ran across a student on ice skates pulling two other students in a sled down the street, no picture could be taken. Too bad, it was cute and I think I could have gotten a really cool shot.

Talkin 'Bout my Generation

Roomie and I got to talking and eventually came to the question... what the hell is up with our generation? You know, the 20-maybe-early-30-something, out-in-the-real-world-for-our-first-few-years people.

It all started with an e-mail Roomie got from a friend. Friend of Roomie is thinking about switching careers and becoming a teacher. Said career change would mean at least one more year of school, to get into a field that a huge percentage of people leave before 5 years are up. But it's not just teachers. I haven't seen any numbers recently, but the average person starting their professional life right now will go through three (???) careers before they retire. Three careers. Not jobs within a field, careers. Part of that is our modern world and economy. But I still wonder if we're not infected with some kind of generational restlessness.

Roomie had a theory (no, she didn't think it might be bunnies... all you geeks who catch that reference raise your hand...); I'm going to take it, run with it, and probably mangle it beyond recognition. She said it might have something to do with us having not had any real generational adversity to deal with. There's something to be said for that. There's nothing like a huge, draft-requiring war or vast economic depression to make an entire generation appreciate what it has and want to settle down, marry it, and get into a nice pleasant non-traumatic rut. We've had no such bad luck (yet, knock on wood)... does that mean that we're never really truly appreciative of what we've got? Is that why we're a bunch of job-hopping, geographically wandering anti-homebodies? For some of use, "hometown" is a four-letter word. For others, it's OK as long as we went somewhere else for a while.

Our parents' generation had Vietnam and the associated chaos to interrupt their lives. Our grandparents' generation had the Great Depression and World War II. My peers and I have lead fairly turmoil-free lives in which war and famine happen in countries we have to look up on maps, and no one has to go off to war unless they've voluntarily signed up for the armed forces. I'd say that makes us lucky. But noooooooooooo, we're bored. With no upheaval to compare it to, we don't appreciate the cyclical patterns of everyday life.

We're always looking for the next best thing. Something has to be better (or at least different) than where we are. We associate comfortable patterns with unhealthy ruts. I'm as guilty as the next person... I'm 25 and I just now started my first "career" job. I didn't slack off during the years prior to this... I attended college, got good grades, worked as an AmeriCorps volunteer, went BACK to college to get my M.Ed... and FINALLY started my grown-up life. We're not lazy... my young-ish coworkers and I put in longer hours at school than pretty much anyone else on staff... we're just continually "in transition."

I'd really like to think that we'll figure it out, but I really hope it doesn't take some kind of generational trauma to drill it into our heads.

Or maybe I'm way off and I'm just overly pessimistic tonight.

To0 Bad, So Sad

I'm not going to play this year...
Trivia

Sure I can play online, but what's the fun of staying up all night BY YOURSELF?! It's the team unity that makes it bearable, even fun. Sitting in my classroom or in my bedroom at my computer will just not be the same. *sniff* I'll go cry in the corner now.

Except... I'M GOING TO ANCHORAGE NEXT MONTH! Sure, it's for a professional conference, but it's ANCHORAGE! A CITY. With STOPLIGHTS and everything! Four days (well, five if you count the half-day the day I get there and the half-day the day I leave), weather permitting, in Anchorage.

So maybe I won't sit in the corner and cry, after all. I think I'll pop my Family Guy DVD into my laptop and watch an episode or two in bed. I love having a laptop that plays DVDs. So convenient.

Come Bask in the Warmth of Alaska...

So I hear it was -54 (thermometer temp) in northern Minnesota today. Funny, when I walked into work this morning it was a balmy -10, plus a wee bit of wind. Relatively speaking, that's swimsuit weather.

On a more somber note, check this out. That's a lot of weed for a small town like this.

I have a new obsession...

*sigh*

I really try not to watch all that much TV. I really do. Then Roomie goes and gets me hooked on a new TV show... luckily, it's out on DVD, so I can feed my obsession without having to set aside nights of my week for TV viewing, which I categorically refuse to do.

The new show? Smallville.

Go ahead. Laugh. I know it's cheesy and kind of Dawson's-Creek-With-Superpowers. I know the special effects are bad. I know that it's not the kind of high-minded entertainment you'd expect from... oh wait, this is exactly the crap you'd expect from me. Anyway, your insults will just roll off my back.

Allow me an explanation. Superman is an American legend. He's an icon. He's something of a god in the pantheon of our collective popular culture. To see him as he's portrayed in high school, as a conflicted, hormone-influenced, flawed, flannel-wearing, midwestern farm boy (who's got TERRIBLE swimming strokes, by the way, although he looks cute in trunks) brings him back to the realm of human. All he's missing is the acne, and come on, this is TV. No on on TV has bad skin... and besides, let's be logical: he's Superman, he doesn't bow to our earthly bacterial afflictions. But he can still have uncomfortable moments with *ahem* the birds and the bees (his laser heat vision starts going off unpredictabily... hilarious). He resents his parents' lack of money at times. His love life is a predictable teenage mess. The god of steel is very much human.

Conversely, if the good god Clark Kent is lowered to humanity from his place among the gods, the character of Lex Luthor is brought up from the underworld to be portrayed as human as well. Not the "100% Mysterious Bad Guy... Now With 15% More Evil Plotting!" Lex that he becomes as an adult, his character is, like Clark, a perpetually flawed and in many ways sympathetic. Both characters face the conflict of familial destiny vs free will. Lex is destined to be an evil asshole like his father; Clark is destined to be a "god among men, ruling them with a strong hand" as the message from his father says. Both resist.

So the hero isn't godly, confident, and self-assured Superman just yet. The villain isn't so villainous. Could there be (*gasp*) shades of gray? Could it be that black-and-white good and evil are not the only two options, or that someone can turn good or evil through circumstance despite the best of intentions? Showing good an evil as teenagers or early-20-somethings (when, let's face it, we're pretty darn vulnerable) knocks them down a little in our eyes. Social sacrilige, I love it.

And now for some less thoughtful commentary: The only thing I find disturbing about Smallville is that I find Tom Welling (the actor who plays Clark Kent) so darn attractive. Sure, he's 2 years older than me (REALLY! He was born in '77, I checked), but he's playing a freakin' HIGH SCHOOL STUDENT! Shouldn't I feel disgusted with myself or something? Wait... a 27 year-old playing a high school student? How does the entertainment business pull this stuff off? And we fall for it? Oy.

New Blog Template

Whaddayathink? The font seems HUGE! I'll give it a go for a while and see how it goes.

For those of you who work with or have kids...

Do you ever wonder if they're sneaking in hits of caffeine on certain days? Like all the sudden they're so wound up you think that there HAS to be a chemical reason?

I walked into the kindergarten class and one kid was literally bouncing off the walls... he was standing a foot or so from the wall, leaning forward and springing back with his hands saying "Boiiiiiiiiing," each time. And he was one of the calm, quiet ones. The classroom teacher (a very good, very experienced teacher) looked at me and said "I'm so glad we quit at noon today."

I can't say I disagree with her. Tomorrow, I'm not setting an alarm. I have stuff to accomplish, but it can wait until 9am or whenever my body decides it's had enough rest.

Speaking of stuff to accomplish, I wonder if Tim got us a caribou. He said he'd try and get two and then show us how to cut it up... That's a good day's worth of semi-disgusting entertainment right there.

Every Once in a While

Note: I try not to go off on preachy tangents. It's really not what I want everyone to read. Every once in a while, though... it comes out. Skip it if you wish. I promise tomorrow I'll post something about honey buckets or first-graders on pixie sticks or how much I could use a beer. I swear.

And now... you've been warned...

Not very often, mind you, I'm usually not so deep, but occasionally I wonder... who the hell am to teach anyone here anything? Am I just a (*cough, cough*) pretty face on the total transformation of what's left of one of the native cultures of the Americas? I mean, yeah, we've got Yup'ik first language programs in the schools. They're really quite well-planned and executed in many cases. But we're still trying to fit everything (educational and otherwise) into a new framework. Give economic power to native people, but that's assuming that there's going to be a certain kind of economic system... OURS. Educate students in "culturally appropriate" ways, then make them pass standardized tests where you have to read and answer comprehension questions about stuff that's so far outside their realm of experience.

In college, we did a project where we developed a few sample SAT-style "w is to x as y is to z" questions based on ideas that average Americans don't know much about... in our case we used cycling. I can't remember the questions, but we administered it to a class of graduate students... no one passed. I asked if anyone had taken the SAT as a high school student and felt comfortable sharing how they did on that test's verbal section compared to our little mini-test. A woman raised her hand and said she scored above the 90th percentile (being a nice Minnesota girl, she qualified that with a "But my math wasn't nearly as good") and got zero out of five on our in-class example. My point? Right. I've got a point, somewhere. Oh, yeah. We feed them the "We want you to have culturally appropriate schooling, to learn academic skills that are relevant to your life and culture" line. Then out of the other side of our mouths, we lament that they're "not up to standards" with other American children. Up to whose standards?

Change-induced social issues (alcohol and family issues... there's another rant for another day) aside, our students are no less intelligent than white kids in, say, the Twin Cities. The teachers here are wonderful and hard-working, using the latest methods and generally being caring people. And yet our school district "fails" to meet federal standards. Why? Because the standards are from a place so far away, written by people who probably couldn't find and kill a caribou as well as some of our 4th graders can. Heh... let's make that a No Child Left Behind requirement... "The student will, individually or in a small peer group, successfully provide food for his/her family, including preparing it to be safely stored for at least a month."

But... knowledge like that isn't valued by the people making the decisions. I'm certainly not dissin' on da book learnin'. Ask those who knew me as a kid... I was a straight-up bookworm, iffy grades aside. My main beef with what's going on here is the unidirectionality of the knowledge flow. Native knowledge isn't frowned upon like it used to be, and for that I'm grateful. Our students don't get whacked upside the head for speaking Yup'ik. It's encouraged. Great! They learn the kass'aq (White... or generally non-native) stuff, too. Fine. But the giving of information is strictly from Kass'aq to Yup'ik. Native knowledge isn't valued by non-natives beyond an often simplistic (but well-meaning and complimentary) appreciation of "spirituality" or "connection with the earth" or whathaveyou. Kass'aq knowledge is for everyone, Yup'ik knowledge is just for Yup'ik people.

I think all this. And then I get a little cranky.

But THEN I remember, if I am some kid of benign educational conquistadora, killin' 'em with kindness, so to speak... is that anything so different than anything else that's gone on in the history of the world? Let's face it, as a species, we've not established a great record when it comes to "love your neighbor." More cultures have been squashed, assimilated, or erased it boggles the mind. Thousands of years of it. Honestly, what's our problem? Didn't we lose a lot of physical strength in the name of evolving bigger, smarter brains?

I'm becoming a pessimist in my old age. I'm way too young to be fatalistic and jaded. But like I said on New Years Day... maybe 2005 will be our year. Go, humanity, go!

Tomorrow: Something non-cranky/preachy/cynical.

Blargh

Being sick sucks.

Good news, they didn't give me a shot. For some reason I got penicillin pills instead. Not sure why I got pills and Roomie got a shot both times she's had strep here, but what the heck. Went to the clinic at 9, the health aide did a throat culture, said "Oh, wow, do you have strep throat," (and showed me the tester thingy), then I had to go home and wait for FIVE HOURS for the doctor to call from Bethel and officially diagnose me as having strep. At that point I was officially decreed as sick (as if the inability to swallow, creepy white spots on my tonsils, 101 degree fever and alternating chills and burnings-up hadn't told ME that 24 hours before...) and got my prescription. Other than that, however, a visit to the village clinic is totally laid-back...

I just walked in and said "Hey, I think I have strep," to which the woman behind the desk said "Did you look for the white spots?"

Being an old champ at the whole strep throat thing (I'm quite certain that my sister Mel and I, combined, hold some sort of record at Washington Elementary in Stevens Point, WI), I said "Of course. They started on the left side, but now they're on both sides." She said, "OK, let me just swab you to make sure and we'll get you a prescription. You're a new teacher, right? What's your name again?"

While I would rather our community have a more highly-trained clinic staff, it is refreshing to be in a place where a person's knowledge of his/her own body is respected. When I told the health aide that I've had a lot of strep, and this felt a whole lot like strep, she totally respected that as a valid symptom. I guess you have to when you're working like they are without the training that most health care providers have had access to.

Plus, I got to see how a strep test is done. Most places they take your swab into some mysterious place away from the exam room and do some magical alchemy to determine whether you're a specific brand of sick. Now I know a strep test is easier than most of my high school chemistry experiments. 1) Swab nasty sick throat, 2) Swish swab into small vial of something that (I assume) makes the strep bacteria grow or do something, and 3) insert the little indicator stick.

Woohoo! I should be feeling better by morning! My fever's already gone down, and I no longer want to cry when I swallow... life is good.

Wow, I really suck at this...

OK, so it's been HOW long since I last posted? Really, I've meant to. Oops. I do have stuff that I will post at a later date...

Anyway, I've got strep throat. Throat's-on-fire, hurts-to-swallow, want-to-eat-but-can't strep throat. So I'm going to go to sleep now and wait for the clinic to call me with my time to go get a shot of penicillin in my arse.

Woo-freakin-hoo.

Ugh

Through an interesting twist of fate (puppy finding a really effective hiding spot), we ended up with a puppy for the night last night. We had our usual Tuesday night dinner with our family of students, and they brought two puppies with them. **Note: Puppies have been banned from future Tuesday night dinners.** One of the puppies managed to disappear in the insanity (five hyper kids, one teenager, two adults, a full-grown dog, and two puppies in a pretty small house... hence the aforementioned banning of puppies for dinner). We thought she had run away or something (door was open so full-grown dog could relieve himself and take a break from the obnoxious puppy-ness), but it turns out that she just got tired of the non-stop action and hid under the rocking chair... which the kids proceeded to play on and around, and which I also sat on... all without the puppy making a sound. Roomie went to take the kids home and look aroud for the puppy, and as soon as they all left, I heard a little whining coming from under the rocker... hey look! A puppy!

By the time Roomie got back with the van, it was too late to take him home, so we had a (non-housebroken, non-trained, used-to-being-outside) puppy on our hands for the night.

I think I slept three hours.

I really, really, really ought to be upset about this...

But school's supposed to start tomorrow, and the weather's been bad, and a sewer pipe burst in the school building.

Why am I not upset, or more accurately, why am I so happy?

Because all of this means that I get an extra day of vacation. That's right, ladies and gentlemen, I'm like a prisoner who's been given a stay of execution. The bad weather means that we're short 9 staff for tomorrow 'cuz they're stuck in Bethel (that's a lot of staff to be short a school our size, in a place where there are no certified substitute teachers), and the burst sewer pipe means that there's no water in the school. Put those two together, and school tomorrow would just be us babysitting a bunch of kids in the gymnasium, showing movies on the projector and trying to keep the kindergarteners from killing each other.

Yippee! I mean, oh, how sad. A day of education, down the tubes. Well, not down the tubes, I'm sure we'll have to have Saturday school at some point to make up for it, but still...

Oopsie Poopsie

I totally meant to post this over Christmas break when we got their Christmas newsletter, but I must have accidentally hit "Save as Draft" rather than "Publish." I just now noticed that there was an unpublished entry on my dashboard control panel thingy. Me not so smart, not quite sure how I made it through grad school. Anyway...

CONGRATULATIONS to my long-lost cousins in Kansas, Laura and David. Laura recently got engaged, and David will be playing D1 basketball next year! Their parents are Uncle Jerry who occasionally replies to my posts (and was known as a child to tie my mother to trees, but she has long since forgiven him) and his lovely wife Cindy (who, as far as I know, has never tied anyone to a tree).