Time Out

This blog has been censored.

Big Brother IS watching.

Happier Times Ahead

Well, I've been doing a bit of nostalgic work: I sent in a request to a publisher to print this blog as a non-fiction book. I will hear in 7 days if my brief paragraph caught their attention.

So, I've been cutting and pasting this blog into a word document, and am up to 20 some pages from only 3 months worth of entries. Gonna print out the first draft of my "manuscript" now: how damn exciting is that?

AND, in cutting and pasting, I have been re-reading the origins of this blog and reliving some good times. One thing is for sure: the English job at the alternative school has been posted and I am NOT going for it this year. My shrink said he'd kill me if I went back, and my principal is taking care of me (well, most of the time) and getting me new computers for next year...so I am staying this year and not going.

Happy days are here again? As long as I get that damn book done by July 4th...

WWE Smackdown Game Plan

I'm taking names.

My husband and son are into WWE wrestling, and I am not. But I am taking a page out of their playbook and using some smackdown techniques in yearbook class.

First, we all made "poof books" to keep us organized and motivated. They are little 8-fold booklets you make from construction paper, and kids write both their goals and what they accomplished in them. I am going to grade weekly now in crunch time here at the end of the year, instead of monthly like the newspaper, and the poof books will be the basis of our individual "grade conferences."

Secondly, I am requiring 15 hours of overtime per person between now and the end of the school year. That way I can hold them accountable for doing the work BEFORE summer, where I can affect their grades. This is the most important time of the year: we have about 70 pages in progress and 40 more to go. They write their OT in their poofbooks, and I record it so I can drop their grades at the end of the year.

Thirdly, I am up and off the couch, even though yearbook meets right after lunch. I hope it's before lunch next year, and I hope my brain keeps handling my depression throughout this turbulent time.

I'm putting the smackdown on them, so we'll see if they get with the game plan or rebel.

That's my plan, and I'm sticking to it.

Ding ding ding.

We are Fucked

Well, only two kids showed up after school yesterday -- and they left after an hour. So I sat with no kids for an hour and decided to go home early. Rachel and Connor were going to come in after their golf/track commitments, but I texted them to go home.

We are never gonna get this fucking yearbook done. I'm gonna be there all summer, again.

I hate April and May.

And I hate kids who are not committed to my program. I had the good fortune to do applications and select staff this year because too many signed up for yearbook and newspaper, but I only have 17 kids signed up for next year for yearbook -- my program is not going to grow if I can't get the top caliber kid to sign up. I have the best editor for next year, Alison a.k.a. Kiwi, but her staff is slim pickins.

Oh well, my yearbook rep is going to come talk to me next week and yell at me for running the finances into the ground, and I'm going to give up creative control and agree to do the yearbook all online instead of on inDesign...it's supposed to be easier, and since I don't have the talent -- I'm going for easy.

I gotta have a summer, or I'll be a flipping loon. I think teachers need a month or two off from the constant interaction and pressures of the classroom. I know lots of people say tough shit to teachers and don't feel too sorry for them for having 3 months off -- but MAN once you get into the profession you see how exhausting it can be. I've tried other stuff and nothing compares to teaching in my book as far as wearing your ass out at the end of the day.

I'll end on a good note: Jared is done with school in early May and offered to help. He's bailed my ass out two years in a row, and I'm not above utilizing his talents a third year. I'm sure Rachel will be cool with a little help too -- we need something to save us, because we are truly fucked.

Anticipation

The feeling of dread and doom persists this morning...the overwhelming notion that it's gonna be a long-ass day. It's yearbook deadline night, which means a 12-hour day: this is not as bad as newspaper deadline night; however, which is a 14-hour day. (Wow, did I use a colon AND a semi-colon correctly in that sentence?)

I DON'T WANNA GO... waa waa waa.

It's not that bad once I get there, because I settle in to my routine, and if things get crazy, I can always put myself into a coma on the comfy couch in my room. I don't think too many kids will show up tonight because I failed to promote the event properly. I also don't have any teeth to my policy for overtime for yearbook class: I ask them to show up but don't hold them accountable for it in their grades.

These are the things that fill my tiny brain on this day. Guess it's up to me whether we have fun or not...I am the head mother-effer in charge, that's fer sure. So dig deep, Lisa, and find the energy to make it through the day.

I hate agoraphobia some days.

Proud Moments

I always blog about my kids at school, and rarely talk about my own children.

But I have to tell you how proud I am of my oldest son, Walker. He was in his second play as a freshmen in high school, and he played Johnny Casino in "Grease" today. He had two solos, and he really rocked the Hand Jive solo. I love moments like this.

And I love moments like this:



Them's moments to remember, eh?

April Fools is Overrated (or Fuck Life)

I hate April first. It's not a joking day for me. My nephew, who blew his brains out a few years back, was born on this day. I remember that day like it was yesterday: I was in college in Iowa City and my step-sister delivered him there. I got to hold him when he was 4 hours old...I fell so deeply in love with that baby that it was only replaced with a deeper love once I held my own children.

And the jokes. It's not a joking day in my opinion, and I wish people would stop with the stupid, "School is out early...APRIL FOOLS" routine.

As Rachel, my yearbook editor, said this morning on her gmail status: Fuck Life. Even though I'm in a decent mood now, five days later, I think her status says it all. Some days life is just too damn big. I just saw my shrink for that feeling of melancholy and malaise that hits me every damn Monday and other select PMS days...I wonder why she is bummed though.

My big worries today include: to make the damn pinewood derby car and go to the race tonight or to blow it off and go to a waterpark/hotel....to make it on time to my son's first big solo in the high school production of "Grease"...to not get busted on my favorite role-playing game on Facebook...to check the mountain of papers I brought home this weekend...

Fuck life.