Complexes.

This week in Psych we're talking about Freud's psychosexual stages.

Pure comedy.

Perks

There are few perks to being a teacher. Sure, we're guaranteed national holidays off (even though having two weeks off for Christmas was convenient, this year it didn't really seem like a "perk"), and we get summers "off" (if you're a half-decent teacher, this really just equates to about two weeks), but the amount of overtime a teacher puts in is really ridiculous. At least, if you're doing your job right. But during the day, I can't think of any real "sweet" benefits. You're lucky when you get time to use the bathroom between 8:25 and 12:15. Your stuff gets stolen, drawn on, and broken. You get constant emails, calls, and unexpected drop-ins from unhappy "clients" (i.e., parents). You get observed regularly. You get constant reminders of how imperfect you are.

You get the picture. Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining per se, but being a teacher's harder than most people realize. It's like most jobs - until you've actually experienced it, you can't really "get" it.

Thursday and Friday I got the rare opportunity to go on an overnight trip with 13 sophomores to help begin the planning process for a service retreat next year. The meetings took place at one of the students' grandma's house. It happened to be next to the beach, at Oceanside. On the warmest days we've experienced this year. Needless to say, it was a welcome change to the regular school week.

This is the view from the front patio where we held our meetings:















I was almost washed away shortly after I took this picture. I clung to the boulder on the left while the surf washed up to my waist. Tide was coming in and that was the biggest swell the beach had seen since the day before!






































Due to privacy issues, I can't post pictures of students at this time. BUT... I don't think anyone would recognize feet.






























Our house was one of the ones on the left.















It had to be one of the most beautiful sunsets I've ever experienced. These pictures do NOT do it justice, sadly.

Dedicated to my sister, Ginny

Alas

It turns out I'm allergic to B12. No injections for me.
Now I've got to take a B12 pill and hold it under my tongue while it dissolves. I did it this afternoon. It was disgusting, even though I made sure to NOT get the kind that lists "dessicated liver" as one of the ingredients.

So, pending the results of several blood tests, I will begin receiving B12 injections.

B12 is only absorbed in the ilium, the very last part of your small intestine. Mine hasn't been working properly for several years now, so it's a good thing your body stores LOTS of B12 - enough to last you a year or so with little deficiency. Unfortunately, due to my poor absorption in the past and the complete lack of ilium now, my reserves have reached their end. Symptoms of B12 deficiency include poor memory (James will vouch for this one), chronic fatigue, muscle fatigue, sleepiness, and stress. Oh, and some pretty bad neurological disorders that I won't mention. Fortunately, personal anecdotes and online research have shown that even a day after the first injection, my stress will decrease, I'll have SO much energy, and my memory will start coming back. Woot!

Delicious!

We've been talking about your digestive and immune systems in Science recently. One student last week asked if it was dangerous to drink your own urine. I casually said no, that urine was generally sterile. Another student asked if *I* would do it, then. Of course! I said. It's no big deal! -But I couldn't do it then, as I had just gone to the bathroom.

So, knowing that the next time I saw them they'd remind me that I'd said that, I planted some white grape juice in the staff bathroom. Of course they reminded me. Two students escorted me directly to the bathroom with empty cup in hand. After a minute or two, out I came with cup, complete with pale yellow liquid. We went upstairs, showed the class that there was, indeed, real "urine" in there, and I drank half of it, dramatics and all. Oh, how I relished their disgusted reaction! The gasps! The "eww"s! The gags! The rumors in the subsequent days! Some students don't quite believe me. Others believe and refuse to talk about it anymore. Some beg me to do it again.

I think that the crazier my students think I am, the better.

Skunk Month

I hereby declare April as Skunk Month.





























Oh, he looooooves raisins!











No, I did not put him in there. He crawled in while I was trying to do laundry.













Skunkie was on my lap and spied my vase of flowers next to me. He reached to smell the tulip, so I brought him closer, and before I knew it, he had snatched a petal in his mouth and began eating it. I decided, hey, if he likes it so much...

Phone Punk'd

I realize that I don't talk much about school, and I think I should share more. Today something great happened - it's not everyday I get a good guffaw in (during class time, at least).

There's this punkish student - let's call him "Johnny" - who has a pretty laid-back nature. Today I caught him texting during class. (He thought he was being super sneaky, and I let him do it until he thought he got away with it when I really had been watching the whole time.) I took his phone away, and he was devistated. "It's my whole life, Mrs. Wright! I can't wait until after school! Can I please have it back? I'll do anything!" Of course, the answer was always no. I DO get some sick pleasure watching students squirm. Anyway, a few minutes later he used one of his bathroom passes to go to the bathroom. Several moments later his phone began vibrating in my pocket. I looked at the number and recognized it as the office. I walked down to the office, picked up his phone with him watching, and told him that no, he couldn't have his phone. Laughing, we both went back to the classroom. I let about 15 minutes pass, then slipped out into the hallway. I pulled out his phone and dialed my classroom number. After it started ringing, I heard the students debate over whether or not/who should answer it. Finally someone did, and I said it was MHS and that I was looking for a "Johnny." They got him on the phone and I said, "You still can't have your phone!" as I walked back into the classroom. The students started laughing so hard, and said, "Dude, Johnny, you just got PUNK'D by MRS. WRIGHT!"

I can't imagine more wonderful embarrassment than the kind you get when you're tricked by your math teacher. Oh, I relished it.

Port Townsend with Gage and Jessica!

We were fortunate enough to spend a weekend with Gage and Jessica up in Port Townsend last weekend. Tobias was more than pleased to play with his new girlfriend, Aroma - after an intense two hours of "courtship," they snuggled under the bedcovers. The humans went to both a magic and a rock show (not the nerd kind this time), and had the most delicious dinner/dessert ever. Thank you, Gage and Jessica, for inspiring James to make Bananas Foster for my birthday! Oh how delicious! The next morning: a French bistro, an antique car shop, a drive around parks/beach, and a perusal of an 1868 book called "Advice to Wives." (Make sure you don't ever sleep in an un-ventilated room!)

You know you want some.

My mum works for the American Museum of Natural History, as many of you know. About two weeks ago, we were chatting on the phone when she casually asks me if I know who Stephen Colbert is. Uuuummm, yeah, one of my favorite shows. Irreverence + politics = greatness. I don't think she had ever heard of him before, 'cause she then said, "I think he has a show."
Anyway, she then explains that he was at the museum's water exhibit filming a bit for his show and that they ended up chatting and that "he's a really nice guy!"
At any rate, I watched The Colbert Report's show on water last night, and let me tell you, the curator that he was interviewing had the most tragic lack of sense of humor I've ever seen. Sorry, Mom, if you know this lady. I'm sure she's very professional. But if you are going to be interviewed on national television, the least you could do is some research about WHO is interviewing you. Stephen Colbert has NEVER done a serious interview. This one was painful and hilarious at the same time. Please, enjoy.

Strategery

I am scheming.

Next fall, I want to take about a dozen of my students to New York. I already have the itinerary, I have activities lined up, I pretty much know which students will be going. They will take a semester-long electives class where they will learn Art History/Appreciation and also do some fundraising to get the money to go.

That's the dilemma I'm at right now. Most of these students come from disadvantaged families and have few resources.

That's where you all will come in. In a few months, I will be asking--begging, the Universe to find a way that all these students can go. One student in particular (let's call her Maria) moved to the States less than a year ago without a single word of English in her vernacular but has managed to maintain Valedictorian status at our school - the result of incredibly hard work and a brilliant mind. She's shy, always polite. She gives me 1/2 her orange in the mornings. She keeps the sticky note messages I write her and puts them on her binder. But I also know she's incredibly poor. Her family wouldn't be able to give much money toward her trip. So we need to find the money somewhere else.

I'm not asking for any money now, but I want you to think about how amazing a trip to the Met or the Museum of Natural History or a tour of NBC or a few hours on Ellis Island would be for her.

Joey Lawrence

Poor Joey Lawrence.

His driver's side door doesn't unlock with a key so I have to climb over the passenger's side to unlock it.
Automatic seatbelt isn't automatic anymore, must buckle both seat and shoulder.
Glovebox door falls off its hinges.
Gaping holes in dash where buttons should be.
Must crawl through back seat, pull seat down, climb halfway into trunk to pull a cord in order to pop the trunk.
Seats don't move.
Rear defroster doesn't work.
Only one light on dash; can only see how fast I'm going until 60mph when it's dark.
Hubcaps missing.
Visor falls down if you try to use it.
Gas gauge is 5 mi/hr off.

...but, as James puts it, "It's all paid for."

You know you're a nerd when you're excited about the fantastic deal you just found on a really great specimen of petrified wood.