Top 10 TV Shows of the Year

1. Lost

2. Pushing Daisies

3. Samantha Who?

4. The Office

5. Bones

6. Burn Notice

7. Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip

8. Psych

9. Grey's Anatomy (just for Ava)

10. Robin Hood (this should be first on the list, so revise in your head please)

Romeo & Juliet & the Ninth Graders

We're finishing up Romeo & Juliet in English, and we just got to the part where the friar sends a message to Romeo explaining that Juliet's not really dead. As a refresher over the weekend, I made the ninth graders write the message, including the return address, salutation, p.s., etc. Here are some of the addresses, postscripts, and closings the students wrote:

666 Satan Loves You Road

Verona, Italy

August 5, 1594

666 Satan Road

Verona, Italy

123 Holy Road

123 Church Road (how original)

P.S. Hurry!

P.S. Don't kill yourself! Thanks!

P.S. Don't let Paris try to kill you! (Methinks we have a clairvoyant friar here)

And here are some of the closings:

Your pal,

Friar Lawrence

BFF,

Friar Lawrence

LOVE YOU FOREVER,

Friar Lawrence (the all caps freak me out!!)

I think my favorite is the the "BFF, Friar Lawrence." Ha!!

Things My Parents Say ...

"Gravity."
The reason, according to my father, anything happened. For instance, why my brother was late or why my father is so weird to why my favorite TV show is not airing or why I can't find my book.

"What goes around comes around."
My mother's favorite belief.

"It's nice to be nice to the nice."
My father's response, from M*A*S*H, to anyone whoever uses the word "nice" in a sentence, whether the response is relevant or not.

"Hello, boys."
My mother's favorite greeting a room full of girls. I don't know why.

"When I was a kid, we had to walk all the way over to the TV to change the channel."
My favorite of my father's "When *I* was a kid" stories.

These Are A Few of My Favorite Things

For my sister who is sick and may need something new to read:


The smell of a chlorinated pool. Oatmeal chocolate chip cookies. Black stiletto boots with blade-sharp pointed toes. These are a few of my favorite things.

Snow days. Summer days. Vacation days. These are a few of my favorite things.

Friends. Meg Cabot books. Movies with romance like While You Were Sleeping and The Bourne Identity and A Room with a View. Books with romance like Welcome to Temptation and Bridget Jones: the Edge of Reason and Weep No More, My Lady. These are a few of my favorite things.


Finishing a piece of writing. Songs being played on the piano by a pianist more accomplished than I. Playing "Sleigh Ride" on the piano. These are a few of my favorite things.

Historical novels like The Witch of Blackbird Pond. Period movies like Pride and Prejudice. Accents like Colin Firth and Rachel Weisz. Rebecca the book and Rebecca the movie.

Dry humor. Sharp wit. Jokes that are playful, not mean. These are a few of my favorite things.

Hot chocolate with whipped cream on top. Lots of good movies playing at a theatre near me. Jeans that fit well. These are a few of my favorite things.

The feeling of being absolutely free like floating in the water after a dive in or going down a hill on a roller coaster. Watching the Academy Awards. Playing Trivial Pursuit or Catch Phrase. These are a few of my favorite things.

Plane trips. Vacations to places I've never been before. Exploring new places by myself. These are a few of my favorite things.

Inside jokes. Secret languages with friends. Traditions. These are a few of my favorite things.

Being kind. Being the recipient of kindness. Laughing with students who are used to being ignored. These are a few of my favorite things.

Christmas lights. Oldies but goodies on the radio. Watching old home movies. These are a few of my favorite things.

I Finished!!

At the beginning of the year, I began plotting out and writing a little story. In February I decided to write one paragraph a day for Lent. Amazingly, I stuck to it and was even motivated enough to continue doing it until mid-June when I left for Paris. After arriving home from Paris, it was hard to get back in the swing of things, but I did pretty well through parts of August and all of September. October was a mess because of Nicole's wedding, the end of first quarter, and conferences, but then, last night I did what I have been working toward since New Years' Eve Day 2006: I finished my novel.

Maybe I should call it my "novel" because it's in very, very rough shape. Some writers and teachers turn their noses up at the words "rough draft" but I NEED that sticker on it--I need people to know that this is NOT the finished product, that I'm going to keep working on it, that by the end, the finished product will look nothing like what it does now.

Even the state it's in doesn't take any of the joy away though from having finished it. I thought about this story and these characters and their motivations in the weekly car trips back to my apartment, in the shower, and especially in bed at night. When things happened in my life, I would think, how can I use this in my story? How would Mariah react to this? I lived with these characters for a year.

I'm excited to begin revisions (unlike many writers, this is one of my favorite part of the writing process). I love to see how the story will change from what I first imagined. Maybe Dacia will grow up. Maybe she'll become more selfish. Maybe Mariah will be angrier at the start of the story. Maybe she'll be more repressed and then become angrier. Maybe Nick will have a backstory ... if I can force myself to think about it. Maybe more characters, a better community will crop up. Who knows!!

But for now, I just wanted to brag that I did it. I finished it.

Wedding Toast ...

Traditionally, it is the maid of honor’s job to make sure the bride has something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue. To prepare for the job, I did a little research to find out why exactly brides wear something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue.

The bride wears “something old” to represent her family and where she has come from.

The “something new” is what the bride and groom will bring to the marriage. Nicole and Dustin have many interests they are bringing together. When Nicole first told me the story of how she called Dustin before she’d ever met him, I asked her incredulously, “What did you talk about?” Nicole said, “Well … pigs. I told him I once worked on a hog confinement and he was pretty impressed with that.” Someone once said, “When we find someone whose weirdness is compatible with ours, we fall in mutual weirdness and call it love.” This is a pretty good indication of what Nicole and Dustin will be bringing to their marriage: a mutual weirdness and a love of pigs.

“Something borrowed” is the duty of the bride’s friends; to remind her of our friendship and our support. Nicole and I have been inseparable all of our lives. We even used to borrow each other’s clothes right down to our underwear. As the maid of honor, I want her to know that any time she needs to borrow my underwear—metaphorically speaking—I’ll be there. Throughout my entire life, Nicole has always been sitting right next to me. Today I’m so honored to be next to her.

“Something blue” is symbolic of the faithfulness and loyalty between the bride and the groom, a symbol that they will be together the rest of their lives. There are many reasons I know Nicole and Dustin are meant to be together, they’re both very funny and excellent story tellers, they’re extremely family-oriented, but the real reason I know that they belong together is this: for as long as I’ve known Nicole, she’s had a list of qualities that she expects in a husband. That list includes: he must listen to country music, he must be willing to hold her hand in public, and he must not be scrawny. Dustin does listen to country music, he gives public displays of affection, and he is not scrawny. Congratulations, Nicole, you’ve found your dream guy.

My Top 5

Remember that episode of Friends where Ross and Rachel pick their top five celebrities and Ross has his top five laminated? Here are mine.

1. John Krasinski. Oh, Jim. You had me at "if this were my career, I'd have to throw myself in front of a train. "

2. Matt Damon. If Will Hunting hadn't convinced me, Jason Bourne did for sure!

3. Sharif Atkins. He will always be Dr. Gallant to me.

4. Ryan Gosling. Since I can't think of anything to say about him, I suspect that he may be a placeholder for another. Although I really enjoy the part where he smacks himself several times in The Notebook.

5. Corey Reynolds. Even Brenda Leigh Johnson said he was her favorite. Newsflash, Brenda: he's EVERYONE's favorite!!! Plus, he must have made one fabulous Seaweed.

I feel as if I'm forgetting someone! Hmm...

And today makes 13...

Today is the thirteenth anniversary of the day I was diagnosed with diabetes. That means that I have now been diabetic longer than I wasn't. These anniversaries used to mean a lot, but they are becoming less and less significant as I get older. It's weird how that happens....

New York Trip

Wednesday:
Left home at 4:30 a.m. Yeah, that's right. A.M. Flight leaves Cedar Rapids at 8 a.m.
Arrive at Newark at 3:30
Cab ride to hotel seems very overwhelming
Arrive at hotel at 5:00
Eat at pub across the street from hotel called Social (I had hamburger and fries--the fries were awesome!)
Walk around Times Square (Mom bought black I heart NY t-shirts for Tara and me)



Thursday:
Breakfast at Euro Diner (I had French toast and chocolate milk). Took lots of pictures in diner. Brennan forgot his camera and while he and Dad went back to get it, Mom complained about how cold it was. Tara said, "Would you like me to just kill you?" Mom said, "I wish you would and put me out of my misery." And so begins the overreaction to everything.

Walked to Pier 84 of the New York Harbor to go on Circle Line Bus Tour (no sighting of Michelle Pfeiffer or George Clooney). Bought water from a very amusing street vendor who said, "You have made the best decision you will make all day: the decision to hydrate."

Tour took two hours and was very cool. I was very affected by the sight of Lady Liberty, becoming choked up--didn't know that was going to happen.

After the tour, we rode the subway to the Empire State Building. Kinda tricky to figure out the train lines at first, but went very smoothly all vacation. Stood in line at Empire State Building for about an hour. Very amusing little girl ahead of us who was much like Tara. She and her dad were on the elevator with us. When it hit floor 40, he said, "40. That's how old I am." (Blatant lie--he was obviously much closer to 50). The girl goes very loudly, "Nuh-uh! You're--" "Shh!!" he said, and everyone laughed. When the elevator hit 50, she goes, "That's how old you are!" and he said, good-naturedly, "Thank you very much." Very cute! I got cool New York City magnets for $17 at the top.

After Empire State, we ate at the Olive Garden which was awesome. I had thirds of salad and breaksticks. Yum, yum, yum!! Our waiter was funny but also kind of a tool.

After dinner was Curtains. It. Was. AWESOME. When David Hyde Pierce entered I was so excited I could hardly contain myself. The entire cast, music, and story was excellent, and when DHP won the Tony on Sunday, it was even more meaningful. Got pics of him and other cast members afterward. Very exciting for my first Broadway show (and I couldn't believe it was the original cast!)

Walked around Times Square afterward. Brennan tripped over a pothole in the middle of the street and spend the REST OF THE VACATION limping around. He was such a good sport!!



Friday:
Ate at Art Cafe for breakfast. I had a kick-ass omelette and diet Coke. Yum!!! Took pics of Tara and me.

Rode the subway to Central Park. Dad bought hats for Tara and me because it was very sunny and very hot and humid! Gross!! Mine is pink and says NYC on it. Stopped by Strawberry Fields and the John Lennon memorial. Very solemn and respectful. Very cool!

We continued on and took a bunch of pictures under this bridge and then saw lots of schoolkids and dogwalkers. When we emerged from the park we were at the Museum of Natural History where we spent the afternoon. Some of that stuff was a little boring but the planetarium show was really cool. Plus, by that time, my feet were hurting like a bitch, so it was nice to sit. I even took my shoes off while we were in the dark. Aaah!!

After the museum, we ate hot dogs from a vendor across from the museum, and then walked (except for Brennan, who limped) back to the subway. When we got back to Times Square, we split from Tara who went to see The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee while the remaining four of us went to the Yankees game which ROCKED my socks off. We took the subway and it was packed and then had to buy tickets but it was so worth it.

Brennan taught me the names of all the players: (Miguel Cairo #41(?) 1st baseman, Robinson Canu #24 2nd baseman, Derek Jeter #2 shortstop, Alex Rodriguez #13 3rd baseman, Jorge Pasada catcher (can't remember number), Andy Petiette pitcher (can't remember number), Bobby Abreu #53 right fielder, Melky Cabrera #28 center fielder, Matsui #55 left fielder (can't remember first name), Mariano Rivera #42(?) pitcher, Johnny Damon designated hitter. Wow! I remembered more of that than I thought I would. Hope I didn't mess up too much. They played the Pittsburg Pirates. It was an extremely exciting game--went into extra innings, before Derek Jeter finally won the game for them, 4-3.

After we got back to Manhattan we ran into Tara and all got ice cream at McDonald's.



Saturday:
Got up and met at nine. We went to the Art Cafe again to eat lunch. Another kick-ass omelette and a super cute waiter!! After that we did some shopping. I got a green Wicked fitted tee that says "Defying Gravity" on it: Then we went to the Times Square Visitors Center and got tickets for the Lion King at 2 p.m.

After that we took the subway to Grand Central Station. Took lots of pictures and then split up to do some window shopping. Tara and I got drinks and sat and talked in the food court to rest our feet.

Lunch? Can't remember where.

Went to the Lion King at two. It was probably the most amazing theatre experience I've ever had, beating out The Phantom of the Opera which I saw in high school. If you get the chance to see this, RUN, don't walk to it. Totally worth the $111!!

After The Lion King, we went to Planet Hollywood for dinner. I had pizza and it was disgusting. Brennan had the ribs and ate 9 of them.

After dinner, we did some shopping. I got some postcards and a hot pink zip-up sweatshirt that says New York in paler pink ($12). Then, after stopping back at the hotel, we went to Spamalot at the Schubert Theatre. As we were standing in line looking at the Spamalot poster, we got the surprise of a lifetime. Guess who was starring in Spamalot (besides Marin Mazzie as the Lady of the Lake)? CHRISTOPHER SIEBER!!! CHRISTOPHER SIEBER!!! AKA DENNIS GALAHAD!!! And he was the best!!! The other hilarious thing that happened was the scene between Hubert and Lancelot. So funny I cannot even explain it. Maybe the funniest thing I've seen. In my life. Like, ever.

Saw Christopher Sieber after the show and took some pics. Then went into some Broadway shop that had cool stuff but was ridiculously overpriced. I got a Mary Poppins navy blue shirt with silver sparkles over it for $22.



Sunday:
Started off as a weird day. Mom and Dad overslept, Brennan opted to stay at the hotel because of his sore ankle, so Tara and I went to the Times Square Visitors Center to find more tickets to Broadway shows. Then we went to the TKTS booth where Tara (again) and Mom got tickets for Spelling Bee. While Tara was waiting in line, Dad, Mom, and I went to Junior's to have breakfast. I had French toast and we had another very cute waiter!

We parted ways after breakfast for Mom and Tara to go to the show while Dad, Brennan, and I rode to the subway to lower Manhattan. We had to wait in line for tickets to the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island for about half an hour, but it felt much faster! Seeing Lady Liberty was very fulfilling and I'm very glad we went since we almost weren't going to.

After seeing it and waiting for the ferry back to lower Manhattan and riding the subway back to Times Square it was about 4:00. I split from Dad and Brennan then. They were going to Rosie O'Grady's so Dad could have a drink. I did some shopping and found lots of great stuff!! I got two pairs of sunglasses, two purses for $5 each, and a shot glass.

Sunday evening we had dinner at the Social again. This time I had Nachos Supreme or something like that. Very good. Then, that night we went to a comedy club where Chelsey Handler performed. Part of her act was to tell stories about all the assholes she knows. It was pretty funny, not gonna lie.

After that, we had ice cream and then headed back to the hotel. Tara, Brennan, and I watched Shrek and then an episode or two of Frasier on TV before going to sleep.



Monday:
Our last full day. We had breakfast at the Art Cafe again. My omelette wasn't as good today. I guess I was due. Then we walked to Rockefeller Center: We passed Radio City Music Hall on the way.

It was pretty cool to see Rockefeller Center since it was so recognizable from 30 Rock. We looked through the NBC gift shop which was really fun. Lots of cool The Office and SNL stuff. After that, Dad and Tara and I went to St. Patrick's Cathedral which was overwhelming and amazing. They had a statue of St. Elizabeth Seton, my confirmation saint. I lit a candle while there. The coolest thing to see/hear were all the different ethnicities and languages at the church:

After St. Pat's; Mom, Tara, and I went shopping. We went into Saks and stopped at a few street vendors on Fifth Avenue before heading back to Broadway to do more street vendor shopping. Tara left to get tickets for Avenue Q, and I got a hot dog. Then we headed back to the hotel discussing whether or not the four of us (minus Tara who was going to Avenue Q) wanted to go see this off-Broadway play called Perfect Crime. We decided we did which was a huge mistake because it sucked.

Before the plays, we all went to Applebee's where we all discussed our favorite parts of the trip. I had the fish and it was delicious!! I've been craving it ever since. It started raining while we were in there, so we had to run to the theatre (actually we killed time in a pharmacy until it was time).

The play was a complete joke. It made no sense and was stupid and not funny. I could say more about it and what the critics think, but I'm trying to forget I spent my last night in New York at this.

After this, Mom and I stopped to get ice cream for everyone and headed back to the hotel. After discussing how bad it was, we headed back to our room, watched Frasier, and stayed up way too late because the shuttle was there at 5:20 the next morning to take us to JFK for our flight home.

Hands down, the best vacation I've ever been on.

Happy Birthday to Tara...

This morning, I got up to eat breakfast and discovered to my surprise (and vast delight) this account of my life written by my sister, from my point-of-view. So funny!!! My favorite parts are the P.S. at the end of each "entry."

THE VERY SECRET DIARY OF RIXIE

Dear Diary,

Plotted today to break spirit of sister Tara. She has no idea what’s coming, poor dolt. Kept going on and on about television shows and opera singing boys with curly hair. Never stopped to think about whether I was interested in what she was saying. Just kept talking and talking and talking. Wanted to shut her up right then, but these things take time. Must remember to pick up arsenic at store tomorrow. Will surely wear her down.

Love,

Rixie

P.S. Had cutest outfit at school today.

Dear Diary,

Plans to break spirit of sister Tara thwarted today when she nixed usual morning cup of hot cocoa. Not sure if she suspects. Normally she’s too self-involved to notice anything not involving her curly hair or last night’s guest on Craig Ferguson. But can’t be too careful. Will perhaps try not to seem too overeager when offering to make her a cup (with arsenic) tomorrow.

Love,

Rixie

P.S. Wore pink bracelet with black skirt today. Seven compliments.

Dear Diary,

If Tara continues to prattle on so, swear will take her down tonight. Have decided against arsenic—so outdated. And likely to end in death—not necessary. Just need peace and quiet. Instead will fashion device that slowly drains all her electronic devices of battery life. Broken spirit will follow quickly, am sure.

Love,

Rixie

P.S. Still the cutest.

Dear Diary,

Was forced to clean Tara’s hair out of drain after shower this morning. Do not know if can keep rage about this quiet. But do not want to let on. Tara seems unusually perceptive today. Like when she noticed how adorable I was looking in new belt and sandals.

Love,

Rixie

P.S. Perky new math teacher wore new Capri pants to 9^th grade girls’ delight. Add her to potential hit list.

Dear Diary,

Tara now definitely aware something strange going on. Caught her examining hot cocoa mix for no apparent reason. Must tell her Josh Groban battling life-threatening disease to make her senses go haywire.

Love,

Rixie

P.S. Perky new math teacher wore ugly loafers today. Am still the cutest.

Dear Diary,

Have soaked Tara’s iPod and laptop battery in macaroni and cheese, then washed and returned to their places. She seemed listless and forlorn this evening when could not get either to work. Plan going excellently. Also bought new hoop earrings.

Love,

Rixie

P.S. Was voted Coolest Teacher by world today. Splendid.

Dear Diary,

Took Tara nearly seven seconds to change channel from “Still Standing” tonight. Strength of loss of electronic devices much higher than anticipated. Am already enjoying effects. Household much more peaceful without constant squealing and obsessing.

Love,

Rixie

P.S. Broke nail today. Boo.

Dear Diary,

Plan momentarily set back by surprise appearance by Gerard Butler on Late Late Show tonight. Tara seemed to gain a bit more color. Still, noticed that her curls have a bit less spring. Most excellent.

Love,

Rixie

P.S. Have made up for broken nail by adding sparkle polish. Am now both creative and sparkly.

Dear Diary,

Responded to Surprise Gerry Appearance incident with own attack: taped over Tara’s copy of Double, Double, Toil, and Trouble. Reminded her that Olsen twins grew up to be sluts who wear gross clothing. Definitely breaking down her spirit.

Love,

Rixie

P.S. Definitely have better clothes than Mary-Kate, if not Ashley.


Dear Diary,

Plan nearly complete. Told Tara that Meg Cabot announced she would no longer include romance in her books. Know spirit must already be suffering, because she believed me and crawled off to lie on bathroom rug for awhile. Am enjoying having all Diet Sunkist to myself more than can really describe.

Love,

Rixie

P.S. Experimented with barrette today, to great success. Six compliments.

Dear Diary,

Have officially broken Tara’s spirit. Over breakfast, said casually, “Lord of the Rings was too long as it is. It didn’t need all those additional scenes on the DVD.” And Tara paused for awhile and then said, “Yeah.” Was able to finish breakfast and read book in total silence. Not one mention of Faramir’s auburn curls or Aragorn’s sword. Mission: accomplished.

P.S. Still the cutest. Life: good.

(By Tara, With Love To Rixie, May 13, 2007.)

Books That Changed My Life

A variety of titles that changed my life. Some titles will be obvious to everyone (see Esme) and some may be clear only to me (see Evanovich).

1. To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee
Perhaps the greatest novel ever written. "Jem and I would get grown, but there wasn't much else for us to learn, except possibly algebra."

2. One for the Money by Janet Evanovich
Hilarity, hijinks, and poignant writing? Too much for anyone to ask for, and yet, Evanovich delivers.

3. Weep No More, My Lady by Mary Higgins Clark
I have probably read this book more than any other in my life--somewhere around ten times, I would imagine. Romance, grief, inner struggle, inner demons, angst--all this in a spa setting and surrounded by Hollywood glamour ... what's not to love?

4. Me Talk Pretty One Day by David Sedaris
This changed my life in that it changed my writing style. See ... well, all previous blogs for evidence of this--particularly summer of 2003.

5. Educating Esme: Diary of a First Year Teacher by Esme Raji Codell
I heart literature. Now I get to read about someone else hearting literature.

6. Welcome to Temptation by Jennifer Crusie
I wish I had written this book. That's the highest compliment I can pay. Even though I've read it four or five times, it still makes my stomach drop every time I read it. And the ending ... wow!!

7. The Boomerang Club (or Why Didn't They Ask Evans?) by Agatha Christie
Bobby and Frankie, Frankie and Bobby. Agatha Christie does romance like nobody's business--subtly, wittily, satisfactorily. EAT IT, Mary Westmacott!! (Oh yeah, and the mystery's pretty good too.)

8. Boy Meets Girl by Meg Cabot
I thought I wanted to write like Mary Higgins Clark or Janet Evanovich, until I read Meg Cabot. She writes like I think ... only funnier. And there's more romance. Basically, Meg Cabot has the career that I wish I had. I've read this one three times and can quote pretty much every hilarious line verbatim. "I saw you hiding behind that potted plant in the lobby. Don't try to deny it." "Love, Mitch. AKA The Fucker." HA!!

9. Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban by J.K. Rowling
I don't see how any writer could feel more satisfied with a novel's ending than J.K. Rowling MUST have felt at the end of this one. Pure. Genius. Plus, it's funny!!

10. The Witch of Blackbird Pond by Elizabeth George Spear
This was probably when I first realized that I liked reading romance novels. And technically, this wouldn't be classified as a romance, but as Meg Cabot says, if there's no romance, what's the point? Seriously!!

Other favorite novels (with romance, obviously):
1. Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier
2. Shining Through by Susan Isaacs
3. The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald
4. Bridget Jones: the Edge of Reason by Helen Fielding

Speech Coaches Meeting

So yesterday we had the annual spring speech coaches meeting in Cedar Falls. As always, I want to kill myself whenever we have to do something relating to speech, but the reasons for being unable to skip were twofold.
A) K is the president of the northeast district
B) My boss, WOB, wanted to attend for reasons unknown to me. Or K. What. A. Loser.

So here a breakdown of my day:

6:30 Cell phone alarm goes off. I panic and think I overslept and it's K calling me to ask where the hell I am? Realize it's only 6:30. Close my eyes again.

6:31 Suddenly realize I am NOT in my bedroom. Wonder where the hell I am.

6:31:20 Remember that I decided to go to my parents' last night because they are closer to Cedar Falls (only a 40 minute drive instead of an hour and ten minutes) and this way, Darcy could frolic in their house all day, instead of having to stay in the car in her crate. I'm against animal abuse, see?

6:38 Cell phone snooze alarm goes off again. What the hell? Why is it every eight minutes and not nine like the rest of alarm clocks the world over?

6:45 Must beat Mom and Dad in the shower, so finally get up. Realize how used I am to having my own space and doing my own thing whenever I want in my own apartment.

7:45 Leave house. Was weird to have people around in the a.m., but kind of enjoyable. I'd probably want to kill myself if I had to socialize with them every morning because the novelty would wear off, but for one day, it was nice.

7:50-8:30 Belt old-school Shakira the entire way. "Whenever, wherever ..."

8:30 Arrive at the meeting.

8:35 Struggle to get the popcorn holders that I had to beg the local movie theatre for out of the trunk of my car without dropping the six feet tall cut-outs of James Dean and Oscar. It has been raining since 6:32 and the ground is muddy. End up making three trips:
1) CD player and popcorn things
2) James Dean and Oscar
3) my bag and paper towels
(Still reading this? I'm SHOCKED!! Truly!)

8:36 Meet DarlatheBitch as I'm going into the hotel. She's the vice-president and an all-out bitch on wheels. I alternate between wanting to beat the living shit out of her and wanting to run her over in my car, reverse over her mangled corpse, and repeating the process. I smiled and she said hi, and I said, "Hi, Darla, how are you?" and she looked away, breaking eye contact. WHY ARE PEOPLE SO WEIRD???

8:37 Met K in the conference room, looking adorable in a spring skirt and jean jacket, and helped her begin to set things up. Put popcorn and "take 2" clapper thingies all over along with signs that said things like "Sunset Blvd." and such on the walls. Passed out kolatches and candy, etc.

8:41 Carry in the cardboard cut-outs. Can't get the door open. Two cute boys hold it open for me. One is very friendly. My heart is pitter-pattering.

9:00 Sign in. Adorable name tags with pictures of film reels, Oscars, movie tickets, etc. on them. Tell Darla and the secretary, Matt, I have to look through the stack before deciding which one I want. Pull out the Oscar. DarlaTheBitch says, "Isn't that one great? I took that one too!"

9:01 Exchange my Oscar name tage for one with a picture of a film reel on it. Will not willingly allow myself to be like Darla in any way.

9:15 Already hungry. How will I make it until noon before eating?

9:17 To distract myself from my hunger, I ask K, "How late do you think WOB will be?" "An hour," she replies with absolutely no hesitation. I concur.

9:30 K begins with a hilarious multiple choice quiz for all the coaches. She rocked the house. We all applaud like mad when she sits down at 9:40. Craig, the head honcho who I think is an arrogant jackass, K thinks is a "fucking dick," and Vicki (the woman I replaced) calls a "raging Republican" (I don't think he's actually a Republican, that's just the worst comment she can give. Period.) begins speaking.

9:57 WOB walks in. K and I consult our watches and grin at each other. We're only three minutes off.

10:00 I begin to eye the agenda. Craig needs to wrap up his little speech so we can stick to the schedule K has been planning since large group district contest back in January.

10:14 Craig's still talking. K is beginning to look nervous, alternating her glances between the schedule and her watch. I fear I am beginning to look bored. I'm having a hard time concentrating.

10:36 Thirty-six minutes after he's supposed to be finished, Craig finally wraps it up. K stands up and asks, "Are you beginning to sweat over the schedule? Because I am." which get a HUGE laugh and round of applause. She begins introductions. Must tell your name, what you coach, what you teach, where you find scripts, and what scripts you brought. K says some REALLY great stuff about me, including this, which she's told me about before, "I coach large group and individual with Erica. She's been with me for three years now and I would kill myself without her. At our school we have this expression: if we're doing something fun, we like to ask, 'Is it as cool as Miss A?' We all know she is the epitome of cool." Everyone laughed and I was really flattered and embarrassed (but in a good way, obviously).

10:38 K goes, "And no one else can talk as long as me," before sitting down because we are now so far behind schedule. I go next explaining that I brought two choral reading scripts and why choral reading is so hard. Many heads are nodding in agreement. I brought thirty copies of two scripts and they were ALL gone by the time we left yesterday. I rock.

10:39-11:30 Write down many titles of scripts and wish people would hurry up just a tinge. I'm hungry and a little bored and ready to move on.

11:31 WOB talks about himself and says some interesting stuff for once. He explains how much he loves speech and how it's his biggest passion and then he thanked me and then he goes, "I want to thank my English teachers, K and E, for letting me live vicariously through their speech experiences. They have to put up with a lot because I love it so much and I love hosting speech contest." This was the best part of the day because at the same time that K goes, "Oh, you love hosting speech contest? Really?", I go, "Gee, we never would have known that you loved hosting contest? Wow! News to me." which got laughs all around because we've hosted that effing contest longer than I've been alive--EVERYONE knows he loves hosting that damn thing.

11:34-11:50 Script exchange!! Got some good choral readings scripts that give me ideas, even if I never plan on using them. One was called "the House that Jack Built" and was all about different Jacks all through literature. It's a very cool idea and I'd like to write my own--using something else in place of Jack. It wouldn't even have to be a name, it could be something totally different. Only problem is, I can't think of anything else. Ideas anyone???

11:50-12:20 Listen to different coaches' presentations. We are now an hour behind schedule, and these people aren't even making AN EFFORT to speed up this process. Do you WANT to get out at 2:00 or NOT???

12:20-1:00 Break for lunch. Thank GOD because I'm starving. The cottage cheese rocked the house. I saw the following vegetables in the soup: lima beans, peas, and green beans, so I stuck with the sandwiches, obviously.

1:00-1:40 Listened to a presenter from UNI who, to be perfectly honest, was not that great. Bo*ring. K was bored, too, I could tell, even though she's the one who called her to present.

1:40 The two cute boys who held the door open for me this morning give a presentation on musical theatre full of websites. This is VERY, VERY, VERY helpful since K decided it would be a good idea for the two of us to do musical theatre next year (why, God, why???) After the script exchange, this was a great idea!!

2:00 FINALLY FINISHED!! YEA!!! Begin packing up. Glower at DarlaTheBitch who isn't helping at all clean up at all.

2:30 Help K wheel the cart with all our boxes on it. Wave good-bye to the two cute boys from this morning. Wave good-bye to K, hop in the car, and drive to Barnes & Noble.

3:00 Leave B&N with two books for Brennan's birthday. Drive to Target. Buy the new Michael Buble CD (yea "Everything"! yea "Wonderful Tonight"! yea three songs co-written by Michael Buble. yea "Always on my Mind" ... wait, a minute. Never mind. I don't like this version of "Always on my Mind."). Get the game Apples To Apples for Mom. Try on strapless bras for a half hour. No luck.

4:15 Go the mall. Look for photo albums for Dad. No luck. Go to Victoria's Secret. Try on strapless bras for AN HOUR!!!! Finally find one, after a long, discouraging try. Get $10 off and a free pair of underwear (DON'T call them panties) thanks to a coupon I have.

5:45 Go to HobbyLobby. Get photo album for Dad for cool project he's working on for someone. See a Paris poster and contemplate getting it for my recently redecorated room which is looking AWESOME, but needs one or two more things. It's $10 but 50% off. Buy it. Along with a photo album with pictures of New York on it for our NYC trip this summer. Also 50% off. Total cost: $20. Wow. What a bargain.

6:30 Arrive home. Go with the fam out to eat to celebrate Bren's birthday. Lots of laughing and loud talking amonst us. Very fun.

7:45 Arrive back home. Play Apples to Apples until 11:00. SO FUN!!!

11:30 Off to bed. Very exhausted.

This post was for Tara. Very soon she's going to regret ever asking for posts like this.

Personal Day

So guess what? I took a personal day. I slept in this morning until 9:30 and then got dressed and packed up my stuff and came to Waterloo. I went to Target and bought a new shirt, a new "wedding" clutch, a new white with green handles tote bag (good "Irish Princess" tote--you look like you've been barfed on and spilled coffee on--which is weird, because, actually I've done NEITHER of those things to you--and you're starting to smell. Also, I think I threw a pencil in you at one time because there are all these marks on the inside of you. It's all very sad. But we had a lot of good memories together and we've been together a loong time--three years in fact, and you'll always have a special place in my heart), lots of cheap tights with cool patterns like lace or checked or striped or flowers, and a battery for my blood glucose monitor--all for the low, low price of only $65. What a bargain. Then I got a sandwich from Jimmy John's and drove to this little park where the dog wandered and smelled everything and GRINNED at me the whole time, and I ate my sandwich. It was all VERY UN-Rixie of me--eating my food in the OUTDOORS, which, let's face it, is NOT how God intended it or He wouldn't have invented table runners. My idea of a picnic is ordering a pizza to go.

Anyway, now I'm at Panera drinking a hot chocolate despite the fact that it's 70 degrees out because a) my throat hurts and I want something hot, and b) I fucking like them. So there. (I may have been a bit overly-defensive on point B.) Poor Darcy's waiting in the car, but if it were a regular friday, she'd be at home in her crate, so at least she's in the car with the windows down and she got to frolic around the house this morning and then frolic at this park this afternoon. All in all she should be grateful to me. (I may be feeling overly guilty about leaving her in the car.) So anyway, I'm at Panera to write my paragraph. I'm still trying to keep up with my Lent thing by writing a paragraph a day. So far it's been going pretty well. How long ago was Easter? Two weeks ago? No, three, I think. So that's pretty impressive, huh? I seem to be stuck in some sort of writer's block, though, because I don't feel like i"m making much progress. Oh well. Whatever.

I hope my sister is not too disappointed when she comes here to read this blog and discovers it's a rerun of an email I just sent to her. She's always complaining that I don't update enough. But, seriously, if I wrote every day, here's what my blogs would look like:

Typical Day:
Got up twenty minutes late. Scrambled to get ready. Was last teacher to work, as usual. Even the kids beat me. Three boys complimented my pink coat (I'm not bragging--it's just that every day there are kids who compliment my coat and they are ALWAYS boys. I find it hilarious and therefore worth mentioning.)

First hour: kids talk nonsense. I attempt to act awake. We laugh hysterically at everything. Later, I try to remember what we talked about.

Second hour: we work in the reading lab. Kids complain about not liking to read. I complain that "hurts my heart" to which they groan and say if they have to listen to that cheesy line anymore, they're gonna blow their brains out. I say, "Well, you know the solution, right?" They grudgingly, but good-naturedly, repeat, "Practice reading so I can pass out of the reading class." I clap as if it's the first time I've heard that.

Third hour: Try not to laugh as Alec and Brent list all the other occupations I could have if I weren't a teacher. At the top of the list (currently): logger, miner, sanitation collector, and something to do with fish that I don't really understand.

Fourth hour: Run to close the door so no one passing by in the hall wonders what's going on as 3/4 of the class begins to recite The Lord's Prayer for reasons I don't understand other than they're trying to embarrass me. (Seriously, this has happened four times, and one of them was when the whole school had to go outside to pick up the toilet paper from when the track team teepeed the school. I was mortified. But also found it really funny.

Fifth hour: Go through the list of seniors who won't be graduating unless they turn in their missing work (currently, all but two) and then play the "How many days has Jason been in class" with the seniors. (Currently, eleven days since the end of January. No joke.) Also try to hide from Reeta, the sign language interpretor, because she's so annoying and does not have any social skills and will not leave me alone. Or anyone else for that matter. Matt and Matt can do the BEST impression of her. I pretend to discourage it, but secretly find it really funny.

Sixth hour: Waste at least ten minutes listening to their stories or telling stories of my own. It's really easy for me to get off topic with this class because it's so small, and it's my last freshmen class of the day. They are super fun!

Seventh hour: See second hour.

Eighth hour: My prep period. Hide from Reeta the interpretor. Get ready for tomorrow.

After school: Go home, walk the dog, feed the dog, play with the dog, yell at the dog, throw the dog outside because she's destroying my stuff, watch TV, grade papers, talk on the phone, occasionally AVOID the phone, watch TV some more, write, eat, clean the house, and get ready for tomorrow so I can repeat the whole process.

Wow. That was riveting!! Why DON'T I write everyday???

Peace out.

25 Goals

I turn 25 today. Since graduating college, I've found birthdays to be quite emotional--in both good and bad ways. In honor of this year's birthday, here are 25 goals I hope to achieve before I'm--gulp--thirty.

1. Go to Paris. (Commentary: bought the plane tickets--leave this June.)
2. See the Eiffel Tower. (Comm: it's a cliche, I know, but seriously!!)
3. Stop renting!! (Comm: Getting really sick of flushing rent money down the drain every month.)
4. Investigate new jobs. (Comm: Love my job but it's in the fuck middle of nowhere and I get depressed about it at least five times a week.)
5. Go to NYC. (Comm: Family vacation--we have the tickets and leave this June.)
6. See Wicked. (Comm: looking into going with Kim the next time I'm visiting her in Chicago. How can I know every line and song of this musical by heart and have never seen it? Thank God for bootleg copies and sisters who buy & copy them for me.)
7. See Spamalot. ('Nuff said.)
8. Get my reading endorsement. (Comm: I'm not really feeling any motivation to do this, I just know I need to do it and to have that adult interaction before I forget how to communicate with people who aren't 15.)
9. Be someone's maid-of-honor. (Comm: something I've always wanted to do. Nicole's asked me to be hers; the wedding's in October. Both looking forward to it and dreading it--well, the work--at the same time.)
10. Finish a novel. (Even if it's crap. Just finish it.)
11. Investigate publishing some short stories/essays I've written in the past. (I'm mostly too lazy for this type of endeavor.)
12. Get Tivo. (Recently discovered the glory of Tivo thanks to my mom's. This is more of an indulgence sort of goal, rather than a spiritual/emotional growth type of goal.)
13. Pay off my car. (I'm about six months away from doing this--so I'm a bit ahead of schedule.)
14. Figure out where I want to live. (I can't continue where I am. I know I've already said this once, but I get depressed all the time over where I live. This is not the life I want--which is unfortunate because it *is* the job I want.)
15. Go on a cruise. (Ever since I read The Baby-Sitters Club Goes on a Cruise ... or whatever the hell it's called ... back in fourth grade, I've wanted to do this.)
16. Go to Ireland.
17. Go to England.
18. Be more forgiving.
19. This one is private. For me only.
20. And this one's slightly shameful, so I won't be sharing it either.
21. Fly on a transatlantic flight. (I've only ever been on small planes that last two hours max, so I'd like to experience the real thing.)
22. Go to a Meg Cabot book signing.
23. Ditto a Jennifer Crusie signing.
24. Eventually get my masters degree. Although I feel no rush on this one. And have no idea what I would want to get it in. English education, I guess, since I was sort of turned off by the English degree.
25. And as always, read more books. I heart books.

The End of Lent

As the end of Lent approaches, I'm suddenly realizing how much I've accomplished. Although writing at least a paragraph a day was hard sometimes (last week I had parent-teacher conferences until 8:30 three nights; then there was All-State speech Monday so I wasn't home until nearly 8, and freshmen orientation was Tuesday night, etc.), allowing myself to make up the writing another day helped me keep going. Most days I "made up" the writing the following day. Last week, with all the school stuff going on, was the only time more than three days went by without writing (except for when the power was out for six days at the end of February--but I made that up as soon as it was possible).

This feels like such a life change and I'm so excited about it, I could easily write paragraph after paragraph about writing a paragraph every day. I'm motivated to continue doing this! That's huge for me!


I've powered through at least two major writer's blocks and come out the other side, not always entirely pleased with what I have on the page, but extremely pleased with myself for getting through it.

I've learned that I enjoy writing things out of order, and then plugging the already-written parts into the story later on. It's satisfying to have a ten page chapter written, and then copying and pasting it into the main manuscript, and suddenly, the manuscript is 92 pages instead of the 82 it was fifteen seconds before.

More importantly, even when I'm not writing, I find myself thinking about writing. I've had two major breakthroughs while thinking about my novel in bed (one was Tuesday night) and one major breakthrough while thinking about my novel in the shower. (Actually I've had three major breakthroughs while thinking about it in bed, but I didn't think long enough about one, and lost it. I couldn't remember what it was in the morning, and I still can't. I think it's gone for good. Now I understand why a lot of writers say they sleep with a notebook next to their bed.) I still have many things to work out about the story, but planning is my favorite part.

So as Lent comes to a close, I'm feeling empowered and motivated enough to continue writing a paragraph a day. I'd say wish me luck, but what I could really use is continued motivation. So ... wish me continued motivation.

Short Support

"What do you mean we have to take a VAN to All-State speech contest?" I asked K, horrified, three weeks ago when we first found out.

"I know it sucks, but what else are we going to do? It'll be all right."

"Easy for you to say--your feet touch the petals when you drive. I have to sit on the edge of the seat the whole way."

Ignoring me, K said to a group of three students nearby, "Can you guys spread the word that we're taking a van and not a bus to All-State, so we're going to have limited seating."

Ignoring her, Brad said, "But if we take the van, who's gonna drive?"

"Miss A and I."

"But Miss A's feet can't touch the petals."

"Hey!" I said indignant.

"Well, can they?" he asked pragmatically.

"Yes," I said testily.

"It doesn't count if your back's not touching the back of the seat."

"Shut up, Brad."

***

"Is everybody in? Cause if we're gonna get home in time for athletic practices this afternoon, we gotta leave now," I shouted over the din in the van after All-State.

"We're all in," a group of girls chorused back. "You can go. ... Miss A? You can go."

"Um. I need some help," I admitted.

K looked over and assessed the situation. "Her seat's stuck. Hillary and Emily, push the back of the driver's seat forward so Miss A can drive. Good! Good, keep going."

"We did. We pushed it forward."

"No, no. keep going. You need to push it all the way. ALL THE WAY FORWARD."

"Okay, that's enough," I shrieked as they continued pummeling the back of my seat. "That's it! It won't go forward anymore!"

I started the car and pulled out onto University Avenue. After about five minutes, Emily gave me an update.

"Good job, Miss A. One mile down, 59 to go. How's your back?"

I grimaced. If even the students felt they needed to use positive reinforcement with me, this was going to be a long trip. "Fine," I answered. "Is the other car behind us? Are they coming?"

"Yes, they're following. They're--oh wait, they're calling me," Erika announced.

"Hello? ... What? ... Um, why don't you ask her that yourself? ... Yeah. ... Okay."

"Miss A?" Erika held out the phone. "Tim called from the other car. He wants to talk to you."

I took the phone. "Hello?"

"Miss A? Can you reach the petals?"

"What?"

"I said can you reach the petals?"

"Yes," I said testily, "I can reach the stupid petals."

"Oh, okay."

Pause.

"Tim?"

"Yeah?"

"Is that why you called?"

"Yeah."

I sighed.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I said glumly.

"Kay. Bye."

"What'd he want?" Brad called from the back.

"He wanted to tell me what a great day he had."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Cause it sounded like he was asking if you were tall enough to reach the foot petals."

"That it," I told K. "Never again! Never again do we drive this stupid van. Ever! Never ever ever."

"What'd I say?" asked Brad.

Lent: Week ... 4?

So I'm no longer even TRYING not to drink a lot of pop. I had two cans of pop today at school (and I even brought tea to work this morning, so that should have cut down my pop drinking by at least one, but no. Plus, last night I bought a two-liter of Diet Sprite. Today, it's more than half gone. Hmm...

The writing every day: clearly it's not happening on the blog. Shocking, I know. However, it's going okay. Even though I sometimes have to write a lot on one day because I know that I won't be able to write the next day or on the weekend or whatever, but that's no big deal. (Remember, I have that clause with God.) I've written about 5600 words (almost 23 pages) on my "writing project" since Ash Wednesday which is pretty good compared to this time the last three years while I was student teaching and just barely surviving my first two years of teaching.

The best part is I've also been reading a lot of author's blogs and the one I really admire said she never writes her books in chronological order; she starts with the parts she wants to write. I've been loving that!! Since I have to write, I allow myself to write about whatever part I want to. That part rocks.

Well, I guess technically I've upheld my bargain with God since I've written this; however, I'm still gonna go see what I can do on my other project.


A couple of writing quotes for inspiration:

Writing is a dog's life, but the only life worth living.
~ Gustave Flaubert

When once the itch of literature comes over a man, nothing can sure it but the scratching of a pen.
~ Samuel Lover

Anybody can become a writer, but the trick is to STAY a writer.
~ Harlan Ellison

Having imagination, it takes you an hour to write a paragraph that, if you were unimaginative, would take you only a minute. Or you might not write the paragraph at all.
~ Franklin P. Adams, from Half a Loaf

Lent: Week 2 ... or is it 3?

Aaaugh!!! Lent!!! Well, I haven't written in two days which is okay because I have a built-in clause with God where I will be able to "make up" my writing time, much like after being sick in school you get however many days you were gone plus one to make up your assignments. So I owe God three days of writing.

Lent progress

Okay: Lent. I decided to A) only drink two pops a day (Isn't that rigorous of me? Only TWO instead of, you know, six). Unfortunately, the fourth day of Lent the electricity went out for FOUR DAYS, and there seriously wasn't anything to do EXCEPT DRINK DIET SUNKIST, so ... that was over.

I also decided (with Kim) B) not to let the small things stress me out. Unfortunately, the electricity was out during the Oscars which means that I missed viewing my Holy Grail, my Superbowl, my reason for living. It's hard not to get stresised when your reason for living is unavailable due to a bad-ass storm raging outside. Plus, I'm also hosting speech contest, and it was postponed ... twice (which means doing the same work three times), so ... not sweating the small stuff is over as well.

Also, because of speech contest and the blizzards that keep blowing through, I haven't spoken to Kim except for two very brief phone calls since last week, so I'm not even helping her uphold her end of the bargain.

Luckily, I also decided C) to write every day, even if it's just a paragraph. So far, things are going great!! First of all, I've already posted twice on my blog in about a week (!). In addition, I've written several pages on something else. I do love to write creative nonfiction essays, but I've set my goal a little higher (for me, I mean. It's much harder for me to do something completely fiction as opposed to writing creative essays about my life. That comes very easy to me.)

I've written fourteen pages in seven days (and with no electricity for three of those days), plus the essay on Lent which is another four (all double spaced, of course). This is more than I've written since last summer, so I'm feeling pretty good about it.

Weather

Despite the two late starts and two snow days, after four days with no electricity and two ice storms, I can say with quite some certainty that I am ready for spring.

Unless, of course, we are going to get some more snow days. Then I'm all for it.

40 Days and 40 Nights

“He uses ‘Lenten’ as if it’s a synonym for fuck. ‘Those mother-Lentens.’”

--Jon Stewart, The Daily Show with Jon Stewart

I always have difficulty deciding what I want to do for Lent. The thing is, I have enough Catholic guilt that I want it to be something good, so God will know I’m really trying. On the other hand, I don’t want it to be something that’s going to disturb my lifestyle too much.

When I was in school, I gave up chocolate and other forms of candy as well as—the most painful of all—Doritos. In college, I tried to go for what my mom called “lifestyle changes.”

For instance, four years ago, while on the phone with my friend Kim, I was having a rough time deciding what it was I was willing to do.

“What are you giving up for Lent?” I asked her.

“It’s Lent? Oh, shit!” she cried. Thinking it over for a moment, she decided, “Swearing.”

So that year, we attempted to give up swearing.

But here’s the thing: my heart wasn’t in it. I knew that secretly, it didn’t matter if I gave up swearing or not because I’m so unaffected by my swearing. I let the words fly fast and loose and never feel guilty about dropping the f bomb.

I do feel guilty about other things I indulge in, like the rivers of pop I consume daily or the time I spend feeling guilty about things.

So the next year, while I was student teaching, I gave up pop. And it worked. I drank lots of water instead, and had to pee at the end of every class period, but I totally did it. I kicked that caffeine addiction in the butt.

But as soon as Lent was over—well, actually, as soon as I was done student teaching, I started drinking pop again. Look, I rarely drink and I don’t smoke, so drinking pop and driving above the speed limit are my two concessions to a wild and crazy life. (Although after two speeding tickets in the last two years, I’ve given up speeding as well.)

I don’t even remember the last two years. I probably did something like: I will attempt to drink more water. That’s one of my favorites because I drink so little water that if I get a two-second drink at the water fountain between classes, that’s probably more water than I drank the day before. It’s a win-win situation … unless I specify that I will drink X many glasses of water a day. Then I usually fail and consequently have to worry about my eternal soul.

I do, however, prefer the lifestyle choices over the deprivation. It’s not that I don’t have willpower—I totally do. But, I have to be motivated to follow through, and I so rarely am. I mean, who CARES if I give up M&M’s for forty days. After those forty days, I’ll just start eating them again, because there’s no reason NOT to.

But, with the lifestyle change, there’s a chance it will stick. They say you have to do something everyday for a month for it to become habit. And we all know how hard it is to break habits (see above paragraph about caffeine and pop).

So when I was talking to Kim this year, I asked again, “What are you doing for Lent?”

“I’m no longer sweating the small stuff,” she answered promptly.

It was so obvious in its simplicity, I immediately started laughing.

“Okay,” I agreed. “I’ll go one more. I’ll give up the stuff that I sweat about.” Of course, this wasn’t really an option because I was supposed to be hosting speech contest this year, yet again, and the ONLY way I get through that it by allowing myself to be stressed and to cry and feel complete rage over it. Why would I want to deprive myself of the one source of enjoyment I get out of it? (That would be the rage. If I’m not stressing out about it, there would be no need for the rage either.)

“Come on,” she persisted. “This would be a good goal! We can call each other every day” [this was NOT a selling point] “and counsel each other through it. Come on! It’ll be fun.”

I thought this was questionable, but I found myself agreeing anyway.

After hanging up, however, I changed my mind. I wanted to improve myself, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to do that by giving up all things stressful. You know, sort of how nicotine addicts don’t want to give up cigarettes even though they know that they’d be happier and live longer and all that. I thought not sweating the small stuff would be a good Lenten goal for Kim, so I amended my goal to: helping Kim through her Lental goal.

I still needed one for myself, however.

It was while I was knocking back my third diet Sunkist Lemonade of the day and thinking about my favorite author’s blog that I finally hit (almost simultaneously) on my two goals.

1) Cut back my pop intake to only two pops a day. (I told you, I have no motivation for the self-deprivation thing.)

2) Write every day. Even if it’s just a paragraph.

Okay, the first one is the obligatory “give something up” goal, but the second one I could actually get excited about. By the end of the first month, writing a paragraph every day would be like habit. It was a win-win situation. And the pop thing? Well, I had no intention of even pretending that this was going to a long-lasting goal (Lent is only forty days, after all), but at least for those six weeks, I would save some money on only consuming two twelve packs of pop instead of three a week.

So how is it going, you ask? Well … I’ll keep you posted.

P.S. Special shout-out to my sister for inspiring me to (as she put it in her last email to me) "Put some of this Lent writing on your blog! Or not, whatever, but guess what? I'm getting tired of When Marian Sang. Yeah, that's right, I said it. No one ever blogs and it irritates me."

When Marian Sang...

Larry Wilmore: "White people have to pretend to care about black people and black people have to pretend to care about history. Everybody loses."
--On February's Black History Month during The Daily Show with Jon Stewart

February first is one of my favorite days of the year because in English 9 we talk about Langston Hughes, and MORE IMPORTANTLY, I read aloud "When Marian Sang." Marian kicks ass, mm-kay? Magic happens during this story, I'm tellin ya!

Thoughts on the Golden Globe Awards

1. Yay America!!!! The best moment was America crying. And yea for Salma crying (and I don't even LIKE her ... mostly. Except in Desperado because I like how she wears two different shoes.)

2. Annette Bening was SO wasted ... and got wasted-er as the night went on. By the end, you could tell she was so wasted she was forgetting to hold her stomach in and keep her face smooth so she wouldn't get more crow's feet.

3. Hugh Laurie hugged Greg Grunberg aka Weiss ... and I missed it??? GodDAMmit, Jerri!!! And I already taped over it because, seriously, with the exception of America (and Hugh's acceptance speech), this was the most boring awards show ever.

4. Gillian Anderson looked HOT!!!

5. If George Clooney declared himself a deity, I would TOTALLY join his religion.

6. I used to be apathetic toward Jeremy Irons, but then I discovered that a lack of personality IS his personality, and it totally works for him. And now I love him.

7. Proud Charlie Sheen + Embarrassed Emilio Estevez = Freaking Adorable.

8. I used to hate Meryl Streep because she's so BLAH, but every time I see her at an awards show, I like her more and more. I like the way she never QUITE looks together and the way she mumbles under her breath and gets distracted by what's happening around her and makes fun of herself. I still don't ever want to see a movie because she's in it, but she's fun.

9. Ben Stiller is not blond, he's GRAY.

10. Drew Barrymore looks more amazing than I have ever seen her. Is it her hair color? Is it her tan? Is it her appearance with Hugh Grant? I really don't know, but Drew, do yourself a favor and just live in that dress!!

11. What is up with Angelina looking so angry? It's a nice reminder that, no matter her work in Africa, she is still super scary!!!

12. Forest Whitaker's shock at winning was quite endearing. Another shock: I was shocked when I discovered that the woman with the updo was Patricia Arquette.

13. Three words: "Ah'll be bahck!"

14. Jennifer Hudson, when you won the first award, I thought it was going to be such a good sign for awards to come. Alas, it was not (except for Hugh, Sasha, and America, of course!)

I Think...

I think dogs are the best kind of pets. I think Harper Lee made the greatest social statement of all time. I think chocolate chip ice cream is the best ice cream ever invented. I think Sex and the City and Scrubs have two of the most poignant scenes ever aired. I think cereal is the tastiest food on Earth and Cocoa Puffs are the tastiest cereal of the bunch. I think our president is an embarrassment. I think the word "literally" is overused. I think David Sedaris and Jon Stewart are the funniest men on the planet. I think Kathy Griffin is the funniest woman on the planet. I think a rose by any other name would not smell as sweet. I think the extras on ER are the best actors on TV. I think a kickass pair of shoes and a good lipstick can make a girl feel powerful. I think J.K. Rowling deserves to be the richest person in Britain. I think swimming is the closest thing to flying.

A Discussion of Rigor and Relevance

Principal: Okay, guys, according to the Department of Education, we have to have a one-hour inservice meeting. I'd like everybody to pull out an example of a test question and in our groups we'll rewrite the test question so that it's more rigorous and relevant.

Me (under my breath): Like we don't have anything #$*@ing better to do on the day when our *#$&ing grades are &@%! due.

K: No shit.

Principal: Okay, first group. What is your question. Remember the question needs to be cross-curricular as well as have an unpredictable outcome to be in the upper levels of the "rigorous and relevant" quadrant of the pyramid. Okay, Mr. Science Teacher?

Mr. Science Teacher: Okay, here was our question:
Explain the process of photosynthesis.

Now, here is our question that is now unpredictable, cross-curricular, and rigorous and relevant:
Part 1: You are walking (that's cross-curricular: physical education) through the park whistling Mozart's ninth symphony (that's music education) breathing deeply (that's health class). Explain how the oxygen you are using affects the process of photosynthesis of the plants nearby.

All teachers: applauding.

Mr. Science Teacher: Now part 2 of the question:
Now, compare that process to if you were jogging through the park whistling Mozart's ninth symphony. How does the faster exchange of gases make a difference?

Art Teacher: Well, that depends on the gases being exchanged.

K (under her breath to me): No, that depends on your definition of "relevancy."

Me: No shit.

Social Studies Teacher: Exchange of gases??? I think we're in the wrong class. This sounds like health class now. [Mimicking a health teacher] 'Now, class, the exchange of gases leads to AIDS because ...'

Health Teacher: The exchange of GASES doesn't lead to AIDS!!! Didn't you learn anything in health?

Social Studies Teacher: Well, what does?

All teachers: FLUIDS!!!

Social Studies Teacher: Oh, that's right. See, now this is why we still need basic knowledge questions. Forget how jogging affects the exchange of gases. New question: What gases are exchanged through photosynthesis?

Principal: Okay, time to go. Good discussion everyone! See you all Monday.

Overheard Conversation

Brennan to the dog: Lay down, Darcy.
Tara: Do you mean "lie" down?
Brennan: No, I mean lay down some carpet cause it's so cute when she pulls out her hammer and tools.

Poetry

Miss Rixie's Favorite Poems:


Funeral Blues by W.H. Auden

Resume by Dorothy Parker

Merry Go Round by Langston Hughes

Still I Rise by Maya Angelou

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening by Robert Frost

We Real Cool by Gwendolyn Brooks

Sonnet 18 (Shall I Compare Thee to a Summer's Day) by William Shakespeare

The Midnight Ride of Paul Revere by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Phenomenal Woman by Maya Angelou

If by Rudyard Kipling

The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost

Blackbird Singing by Paul McCartney

The Sound of Silence by Paul Simon

And Miss Rixie's favorite poem of all time:

Alone
by Maya Angelou

Lying. thinking
Last night
How to find my soul a home
Where water is not thirsty
And bread loaf is not stone
I came up with one thing
And I don't believe I'm wrong
That nobody,
But nobody
Can make it out here alone.

Alone, all alone
Nobody, but nobody
Can make it out here alone.

There are some millionares
With money they can't use
Their wives run around like banshees
Their children sing the blues
They've got expensive doctors
To cure their hearts of stone.
But nobody
No nobody
Can make it out here alone.

Alone, all alone
Nobody, but nobody
Can make it out here alone.

Now if you listen closely
I'll tell you what I know
Storm clouds are gathering
The wind is gonna blow
The race of man is suffering
And I can here the moan,
Cause nobody,
But nobody
Can make it out here alone.

Alone, all alone
Nobody, but nobody
Can make it out here alone.

My Writing Process

Okay, first things first. Do I have something to drink? (Preferably diet pop, although I’ve found alcohol to be an excellent catalyst in the writing process, although something of a deterrent in the revision process.) Check.

Do I have a good writing utensil? Pen or pencil, whatever the writing muse is calling for (usually pencil for poetry, pen for everything else.) Or, better yet, a computer—that way there is at least a chance my hands will keep up with my brain (oh, how many witty lines, brilliant flashes, original transitions, and (insert clever describing word here) descriptions have been lost due to the Cramped Hand Syndrome?) So, writing utensil? Check.

Is there a thesaurus available? Without this, my word choices are distracting and second-rate. In fact, before consulting the thesaurus, I used the word “although” twice in the first paragraph and I am still missing an adjective to describe ‘descriptions’ in the second paragraph. Thank God for preinstalled thesauri on my laptop! No thesaurus = Rixie's writing is repetitive and choppy and sometimes missing (re: second paragraph). But, one must soldier on anyway.

Am I ready to identify the tone of this piece? Academic? Dry and witty ala Agatha Christie? Flat out hilarious ala David Sedaris? Wordy and full of dialogue ala Jennifer Crusie? Character drive ala F. Scott Fitzgerald or even Janet Evanovich? Decisions, decisions. And in the end, pointless, as whatever I write never comes out as I intended it to—a fat I rely on or else my writing wouldn’t be mine, but the product of a wannabe.

I like my writing to have a conversational feel. I love dialogue. Whenever possible, I try to have people talking instead of describing something. Doesn’t matter what kind of writing it is—fiction, nonfictions, emails, etc. As Mark Twain said, “Don’t say the old lady screamed. Bring her on and let her scream!”

I read something somewhere once upon a time about a girl who was looking at her 20-year-old journals from high school and wishing she had written more transcripts of daily conversations, poignant or humorous or significant or run-of-the-mill—didn’t matter. I really took that to heart and try to emulate that now.

I need the perfect location! It must be quiet—or at least crowded and busy enough that I feel I am alone with my thoughts. My favorite place to write was the IMU at the University of Iowa (while eating breadsticks or a sub sandwich from the food court, of course). There was so much life around me—people laughing, talking, reading the newspaper, watching the big-screened TV, promoting clubs and activities at tables. So much to look at in so little time.

Next step: the actual writing. I usually write fast and hard. If it’s an academic paper, I write the intro, but leave the thesis for last. I write the paper based around quotes I have already picked out from whatever novel or article I’m analyzing or critiquing. When finished, I read what I’ve written and write a thesis, then do my best to tie the conclusion back to the intro. I then abandon the paper and never look at it again.

If it’s for fun, I many times try to outline my thoughts so they flow chronologically onto paper. I so want my thoughts to be organized, but they never are. The outline rarely works. Usually I start with points A and B, but by point C, I’ve abandoned all pretenses of jotting notes into an outline and am scribbling my actual material and just use letters D, E, and so on at the beginning of each paragraph to make myself feel better about abandoning the outline idea.

Once I have abandoned the outline idea, I usually skip ahead to the part I’m most looking forward to writing about. I then have to rearrange the paper around it. For example, in this paper, the first thing I wrote was the list coming up.

Almost as much as I love writing dialogue, I love writing lists!! For example, here are the types of writing I love to do:

1. Personal narratives

2. Journaling to get strong emotions (usually anger, frustration, sadness, loneliness, etc.)

3. Emails!! My best friends live in Chicago and Paris respectively, so emailing is key. I hate “here’s what I’ve been up to” emails, but I love what my best friend and I call “nonsense emails.” Nonsense emails consist of things like, “I was watching TV last night and there was a TV movie about a woman trapped in an elevator and it reminded me of when you and I got stuck on the Death Elevator and were stuck until the janitor let us out.”

4. Academic paper (I know—I’m a freak) if it’s on a topic I enjoy.

5. Transcripts of humorous or amusing conversations I’ve had or overheard.


Once I have finished writing the part I was looking forward to the most, I then go back and start at the beginning and try to forge through till the end. Usually, however, I end up getting bored about halfway through and think to myself, I’ll finish this later. Today—just for something new—I think I’ll try wrapping this up instead.

I just realized that throughout my analysis of my writing process, I haven’t addressed the issue of audience. Audience is (obviously) something I don’t consciously consider. Usually, I am my audience. Despite this, I always write as if there’s someone reading over my shoulder. In other words, I write to entertain. This should be its own paragraph.

My main purpose in writing is ultimately, unfailingly, always to entertain. Even if it’s only me. Especially if it’s only me.

A Christmas Medley

“Said the king to his people everywhere,
Listen to what I say.”

“Brennan, after we’re finished eating, I want you and Nathan to drag in my Christmas tree from the garage,” Mom announced as she served us all slices of ham.

Brennan gritted his teeth as he looked at Nathan. “Mom, my friends do not want to help us put up our tree.”

Nathan, ever affable, cut in, “Oh that’s okay; I don’t mind.”

Brennan glared at Nathan and then turned to Mom again. “Okay, I don’t want to help us put up our tree.”

“Do it anyway.”

“Geez, Mom, you don’t have to be so bossy.”

“I’m the boss. I’ll say what I want and you will listen to what I say. Besides, all you have to do is bring it into the house. Remember, last year you and I dragged it out to the garage still put together?”

“To say nothing of the lights and tinsel that you left on it,” Tara added dryly as she passed me the milk.

“All you have to do,” Mom continued as if she hadn’t been interrupted, “is bring it into the house. That’s it.”

“I don’t want to.”

“The girls will do your share of the dishes for you,” Mom bargained.

“What?” I piped up for the first time. “If that’s the deal, I’ll bring that stupid tree in for you, and Brennan can do my share of the dishes.”

“It’ll take you two seconds,” Mom continued, ignoring me, “and then you’ll have the whole night free to play shout and swear and kill people.”

“It’s called X-Box, Mom. If we don’t shout and swear, we’re doing it wrong.”

“Um, hello? I said I would bring it in,” I said again.

Mom gave me a cool once over. “I don’t think so,” was all she said.

“What?” I asked highly offended. “Why not?”

“You’re the shortest of all of us. Last year when Brennan and I moved it, we could hardly do it. If it was hard for me, imagine how hard it will be for you.”

“I don’t know,” Tara cut in. “You’re what? Three-quarters of an inch taller than Rix? It seems to me that it has more to do with how strong you are rather than how tall. And Mom, you’re the biggest wimp in the world—”

“That’s true,” Mom admitted.

“—while Erica, on the other hand, is freakishly strong.”

“Thank you for the show of sister solidarity!” I said “And it’s true, Mom: I am freakishly strong. Everyone says so. Now let me prove it to you by bringing in the tree.”

“Who’s gonna help you?”

“Nathan.”

“Erica!” Brennan scolded. “Don’t be volunteering my friend’s services.”

“Oh, he doesn’t mind.”

“No, Erica. Brennan and Nathan will do it, and they’ll do it right now,” Mom said meaningfully.
With grumbles and complaints (Brennan) and affable acceptance (Nathan), the boys left their plates on the table and went to the garage.

“Patrick?” my mom said to my dad. “You’re awfully quiet.”

Long pause.

“Patrick? Say something!”

My dad heaved a sigh. Then he said, “Well, at least it’ll get the tree out of the garage where you run into it with the car every day after work.”

My mom winced as if the memory physically pained her.

As the boys began maneuvering the tree through the front door my dad made his exit into the sanctuary of his basement workshop.

“Look!” Tara whispered to me. “They’re bringing the tree in from the stump up.”

“Mom!” I cried, still highly affronted. “Look! They’re knocking the branches off on the doorway. This operation is like the blind leading the blind. Now if I had been in charge—”

“Good work, boys! Good work! Set it up right there in front of the window. Oh, good job. Wait, wait—it’s gonna fall. There we go. Okay, thanks, guys! There! Doesn’t that tree look beautiful?”

“O Christmas tree, O Christmas tree,
How lovely are your branches!”

Once they had deposited the tree, the boys scampered off to their video game, leaving the three of us standing in the living room. Two of us were looking at the tree dubiously and the third was staring with anticipation.

“Umm…,” Tara began.

“I know! Wasn’t it such a great idea to leave it set up? Now all we have to do is the fun part. You know, hang up decorations and put the angel on top.”

I corrected, “Well, after we make sure the lights all work and straighten the branches and …”

Tara added, “Mom, not to rain on your parade, but I told you last January that this was a stupid idea. I mean, look at the tree. It’s … leaning.”

My mom tilted her head. “Is it?” She looked to me for confirmation.

“It’s definitely leaning.”

“It’s the leaning tree of Pisa.”

“And … where’s the top?” I ventured.

“The top of … oh my God! The top of the tree is missing!”

Tara was underneath the branches looking up. “Wait! Here it is. It definitely snapped off.”

“Oh what a laugh it would have been,
If Daddy had only seen Mommy kissing Santa Claus last night.”

Thirty seconds later, my mom march back into the living room with my silent father in tow. He was armed with a drill. Sixty seconds later, the top of the tree was drilled back where it belonged and my father was safely back in his workshop.

Tara settled in for a long evening on the couch. I took a more hands-on approach and began helping my mom straighten out the branches.

When the branches were all back in their sockets and my mom’s excitement had begun to rub off on me, I said with tremulous Christmas spirit, “Okay, try the lights! Let’s see if they work!”
We held our breath while she plugged them in. A thousand twinkling blue stars lit up the living room. “They work! The lights work! It’s a Christmas miracle!”

“Yes, your tree lighting up compares to the immaculate conception and birth of baby Jesus,” Tara said drowsily from the couch.

“Quiet, you!” Mom shushed.

Tara rolled over and dozed off.

"Rockin around the Christmas tree at the Christmas party hop,
Everyone dancing merrily in the new old-fashioned way."

“Wow, Mom! That looks great!”

“It really does. … Although … does it still look like it’s leaning to you?”

“Just a bit. It’s much better than it was.”

“Okay, I’m gonna try to bend it back toward you. You hold that side in case it starts to fall.”

We braced ourselves on either side and amidst much shrieking managed to straighten it. We stepped back simultaneously to admire our work, just in time to see the tree topple to the floor.

“You two are rock stars,” Tara said before falling back asleep.

“Said the little lamb to the shepherd boy,
Do you hear what I hear?”

“Here are the rules of Trivial Pursuit,” I began very seriously. “I don’t do sports questions.”

“Neither do I,” responded Tara.

“And I only do sports questions,” Brennan added.

“Agreed. And so we begin.”

While we busied ourselves passing out chips and arranging our pie pieces on the board, sounds of Christmas spirit drifted in from the living room. “Son of a bitch!”

“Mom?” Tara called hesitantly. “How’s it going in there?”

“… Fine …”

“What are you doing?”

“Just hanging the decorations on the tree. Everything’s fine. Goddammit!”

“Aah, there’s some Christmas spirit,” Brennan said. Raising his voice, he called, “Do you need some help?”

“No. Everything’s under control. I’m just putting the angel on the top of the tree.”

Dad appeared from the depths of the basement, and the four of us wandered into the living room. Mom, decked out in her Christmas pajamas, had the overhead lights off while she decorated the tree, with candles blazing and the tree twinkling. We slumped in the chairs and let the spirit of the season wash upon us.

“Silent night, holy night,
All is calm, all is bright,
Sleep in heavenly peace,
Sleep in heavenly peace.”