Songs I Sing in the Shower

Songs I Sing in the Shower:

1. Ever since I was a little girl, I have always sung "Stop! In the Name of Love" by Diana Ross and the Supremes in the shower. That is *the* song that I sing. There is something about this song that lends itself to shower-sized gestures and dancing. "Think it over ... haven't I been good to you?"

2. When I'm not channeling Diana Ross, I prefer to sing Broadway songs. "All that Jazz" from Chicago is my all-time favorite Broadway song. I even sang it in my high school talent show with back-up singers and everything. "I'm gonna rouge my knees and pull my stockings down!" I also sing this one in the car whenever I'm feeling low. Or high. It's that perfect song for all emotional occasions. I love both the Catherine Zeta-Jones and the Bebe Neuwirth versions. It is perfectly within my range--low and lower notes--an alto's dream, for sure. "Oh, I'm no one's wife, but oh! I love my life, and all-that-ja-aazz!"

3. I'm not one to sing recent or different songs in the shower, so when I say "Defying Gravity" from Wicked is a new favorite, I mean 'new' in the same way that we say this is a new century--you know, it's been around for several years, but when you take into account relativity, it's new. I mainly sing the first several lines and try to figure out how the song goes on from there, then give up and head straight for the bridge, which is the whole point of singing the song anyway. "So if you care to find me, look to the western sky. As someone told me lately, everyone deserves a chance to fly!"

4. "Written in the Stars" from Aida. Again, the appeal is that it is in an alto's range, and when the water pressure is good and there's enough water in my ears, I barely even tell that my voice is weak and shaky compared to Heather Headley's. Okay, compared to anyone's. "Is it written in the stars? Are we paying for some crimes? Is that all that we are good for, just some stretch of mortal time?"

5. "Amazing Grace" is fun simply because I know all the words to, like, the first three verses, and if I start low enough, I can almost reach the high notes.

6. "The Star Spangled Banner." Simply because I know all the words and I know the harmony, which is always fun to sing. Who knew I was so patriotic?

25 Goals: One Year Later

So here are the goals I came up with one year ago today. 25 things I want to accomplish before I'm--gulp!--thirty. Here are the ones that I have accomplished.


1. Go to Paris. (Totally went. Totally saw. Totally conquered.)

2. See the Eiffel Tower. (Amazing, but the thing that really blew me away was the Arc de Triomphe--that's the moment that I relive which is funny because it was totally unexpected.)

4. Investigate new jobs. (Still working on this. Had two interviews. Nada.)

5. Go to NYC. (Best vacation ever.)

7. See Spamalot. (Hands down, the most hilarious show I've ever seen. Even the actors had trouble not breaking character. "'Mother?' 'Father!' 'Father?'" Ha!

9. Be someone's maid-of-honor. (Was so much fun and--I think--the speech was a success.)

10. Finish a novel. (Last year I wrote, "Even if it's crap. Just finish it." Well, it's crap, but I finished it. Hooray!)

13. Pay off my car. (Paid off. It belongs to me free and clear.)

21. Fly on a transatlantic flight. (I watched four films on it. I think. The whole thing is kind of a blur.)

So nine of my twenty-five goals have been met or at least partly met. Wow. I'm quite impressed with myself. Only 16 more to go.

Jeff Foxworthy's Take on Teachers: HOW DO YOU KNOW YOU ARE A TEACHER? (Commentary by Rixie)

Jeff Foxworthy's Take on Teachers: HOW DO YOU KNOW YOU ARE A TEACHER? (Commentary by Rixie)

1. You can hear 25 voices behind you and know exactly which one belongs to the child out of line. (This happens all the time and I love when I can reprimand a student without even turning around. The kids are always amazed by how we know them!)

2. You get a secret thrill out of laminating something. (Well, more like seeing something laminated--not the actual lamination process.)

3. You walk into a store and hear the words 'It's Ms/Mr. _________'and know you have been spotted. (I go NOWHERE in this town because I'm afraid of being spotted. I finally get it, Mom!)

4. You have 25 people that accidentally call you Mom/Dad at one time or another. (It happens at least once a month. They're always so embarrassed. Luckily by the time they're not freshmen anymore, it doesn't really happen. There's still a senior boy and two sophomore boys that call me Mom whenever they see me just as a joke--it's a little frightening.)

5. You can eat a multi-course meal in under twenty-five minutes. (Twenty-five? Ha! More like nineteen!)

6. You've trained yourself to go to the bathroom at two distinct times of the day: lunch and prep period. (No matter what!)

7. You start saving other people's trash, because most likely, you can use that toilet paper tube or plastic butter tub for something in the classroom.

8. You believe the teachers' lounge should be equipped with a margarita machine. (I could use one everyday during third hour...about 10:00 a.m.)

9. You want to slap the next person who says 'Must be nice to work 8 to 4 and have summers off.' (I always respond, "Who do you know with that job and where can I apply?" A teacher is never "off-duty." Especially living in a small town.)

10. You believe chocolate is a food group. (I lock my door at 4:30 and all my students know that if you need in after that to talk to me, you'd better bring chocolate, cause I won't open the door without it.)

11. You can tell if it's a full moon without ever looking outside. (I know I'm slow, but for my first 18 years when my mother would come home and say this, I thought it was a joke and she was kidding. I had no idea that this was a real occurrence until my first year of teaching when it suddenly clicked. I wish all people who don't work with kids would have to come in to the classroom and experience this. The change is as real as it would be if they all morphed into werewolves. It's that obvious.)

12. You believe that unspeakable evils will befall you if anyone says 'Boy, the kids sure are mellow today.' (I work with freshmen, so they're never mellow. Not even first hour when the rest of the students are sleepwalking.)

13. You feel the urge to talk to strange children and correct their behavior when you are out in public. (Once at the movies [with either Kim or Tara--I can't remember now] I actually turned around and started scolding these kids without even thinking. It's like I flipped out and thought it was okay to yell at total strangers in the middle of a movie. It's hard to turn the teacher switch off. ... I also want to reprimand crying, spoiled children in stores.]

14. You believe in aerial spraying of Ritalin. (I love when parents say they don't believe in Ritalin and my mom says to their face in total disgust, "Oh...you're one of 'Them.'" On behalf of teachers everywhere, may I just say to these parents thanks for punishing US for YOUR mistakes?")

15. You think caffeine should be available in intravenous form.

16. You spend more money on school stuff than you do on your own children. (Well, I don't have kids, but I definitely spend more money on school stuff than I do on myself!)

17. You can't pass the school supply aisle without getting at least five items! (I am THROUGH lending pencils to the kids. DONE!)

18. You ask your friends if the left hand turn he just made was a 'good choice or a bad choice.' (I mainly want to lecture my friends and especially my siblings about the dangers of procrastinating.)

19. You find true beauty in a can full of perfectly sharpened pencils (and a blank sheet of notebook paper.)

20. You are secretly addicted to hand sanitizer (and the scented wipes. One of the other English teachers and I give those things to each other for birthdays and Christmas every year.)

and finally,

21. You understand instantaneously why a child behaves a certain way after meeting his or her parents. (Um, nuff said.)

"She feared that the same unfortunate persuasion still governed."

I was eighteen when I saw Persuasion and I didn't get it.

I was twenty-three when I saw Persuasion again and I loved it.

I was twenty-five when I read the book and it broke my heart, stole my breath, and then deposited both at my feet near the end of the story.

Most people prefer Pride and Prejudice, and while I do delight in Lizzy's victories and grieve for her humiliations, this was not a book that I was chained to. That's not to say I didn't love it--I rooted for this modern chick all the way. The ending uplifted me, and I genuinely believed in Lizzy's and Darcy's story, that they were the only people that could ever make the other truly happy.

I adore the film versions of all of Jane Austen's books, but I often wondered how much I would love the reading experience if it weren't for the wonderful pictures of the talented actors portraying these characters (Colin Firth, Emma Thompson, Jeremy Northram, etc.) running through my head. I found Northanger Abbey a bit ridiculous even as a piece of satire and was unable to even finish Mansfield Park. But Persuasion ... Persuasion turned out to be my great love.

It was Persuasion that made my stomach drop when Captain Wentworth finally noticed Anne again, that made me throw the book down in frustration when Anne was being a martyr (only to pick it up again as fast as I threw it down), that made me cheer when (to quote Kipling) Anne kept her cool when those all around her were losing theirs, that made me cry in that wonderful heartwrenching, poignant way when Wentworth finally wrote the letter and they walked home through the park together.

It is Persuasion that I reread parts of to myself just for the sheer joy of the language and the dialogue and the conversation. It is Persuasion that took me through a life's cycle of emotions--contentment, loneliness, meloncholy, hopelessness, hopefulness, love, and utter joy. It is Persuasion that motivates me to read other Austens in the hope of finding that absolute joy again. It is Persuasion that I stole a copy of from the library just because I had to have the copy that I first read. It is Persuasion that spoke to my soul and changed my life in the way that only few books can do. It is Persuasion that speaks to the adult Jane Austen reader that I am now. It is the heartbreak and the loss and the redemption and the forgiveness of Persuasion that, as an adult, I identify with.