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.