Thoughts on Laziness

Lazy = me.

I have been the epitome of laziness this winter vacation. I wake up at a reasonable hour usually, but proceed to sit on my ass for hours and hours at a time in front of the computer. Sure, I take breaks to poop and drink coffee, but I can social network all day long. I love MySpace and Facebook, even though I credit those services with the downfall of my own forum, NHS Planet X.

I am also WAY too much into this business venture. If one could make a million sitting on their rears all day, I'd be first in line. Seriously. I have visions of retirement dancing in my head...

Because we ended the semester before break this year, I have nothing to do related to school. Well, I could be working on the yearbook, but Rachel went skiing so I have an excuse to not go in. I did actually go into school one day with my boys, but it was only to load up some songs on my iPod and to grab a couple different laptops for home entertainment purposes. So that's good. Aside from the dreams, I've successfully avoided work this vacation.

But one dilemma remains: Why am I having these recurring nightmares where I'm packing up and moving, and getting lost in these big hotel/cruise ship/dorm type buildings. And Phil is never there. I hope this isn't me being clairvoyant and instead is just a symbol of my utter and complete laziness.

Two more days, counting today, before I head back into work mode. You know, I think I like my job. I'm not dreading going back. I can be lazy there too! Except for the part where I fucking work like a madwoman -- which is usually all the time.

Maybe the couch will see me more this year. Now THAT's a good new year's resolution...

Oops. I've stretched my 1st Amendment rights further.

Damn. My rated PG-13 merchandise just wasn't selling. I've had 160 some hits on google ads, and still no buys, so I switched it up.

I put the rated R version up.

Check it out at:

www.cafepress.com/MsCalvin

Roots

I hate the roots of my hair. I have a reverse-blond problem...my roots are turning light. They are either gray or a shade lighter than the rest of my hair.

I decided to go with a violet shade for the holidays, but now my roots are reddish while the rest of my head is blackish/brownish. My hairdresser, who happens to be my cool Auntie Kendra, gave me some black conditioner to use, but it has an unpleasant side effect -- it dyes your hands and anything else it comes in contact with. Powerful shit. I'm afraid to use it, frankly.

Roots also reminds me of high school. I had a nickname because my maiden name was Kunze (koonzie) when the series "Roots" by Alex Haley was popular on TV. It was 'Kinta Kunze'. FLASHBACK.

Sorry for the tangent. I'll deal with my roots somehow. At least I'm not in Iraq.

Political Ruminations

Being from Iowa, and it being December 26th, means that political candidate warfare is in full strength on this eve of the election year 2008.

I've been loosely following the democratic candidates, and I think I've finally landed on a candidate. Mr. John Edwards is my man, mainly because I'm sick of the Hillary/Barack jabs and mud slinging. The only real reason I'd want the mainly conservative Clinton is to piss off the religious righters who hate her with such passion, and that's not a good enough reason to support her. I love Barack Obama (even though I burp his first name all the time) because of his charisma and speaking ability (which I've been missing for 8 damn years now with Mr. Bush, the illiterate), but I think he lacks significant experience. I'd vote for him in 4 to 8 years, though.

So, that leaves me with Edwards. I love his "two Americas" spiel, and I think he truly is a rich man who cares about me, a member of the shrinking middle class. His $400 haircut doesn't bother me much, and that's about the worst thing the media has dug up on him. I wouldn't mind listening to him speak for four years, and that's a major consideration in my book.

Actually, when I do surveys, Dennis Kucinich shows up as my candidate, which means I'm left of the dial quite a bit. I want the troops home from Iraq NOW. But he doesn't have an active campaign in Iowa, so therefore isn't really a viable candidate here. HMMMMMMMMmmmmmmmmmmm. Politics is so interesting, and so boring, all at the same time.

Oh well, as long as Bush FINALLY leaves office, I'll be a happy girl. He is officially the worst President I've ever seen or heard of.

Enough politics. But the good news is I'm barely thinking about school, except for the teaching dream I had all night last night...

Oh well, my subconscious has to work this shit out somehow, I guess.

Foul #1

I just messaged Rachel on Facebook about my first thoughts this morning: yearbook. Yuck.

We gotta submit some damn pages before the new year, but we are waiting on a couple. I think I want to get Jared (my security blanket) and Rachel together after Christmas and actually submit the ones we have done. ARGhhhhhhhh. Why do I obsess about this shit?

In other news, I have over 88 clicks to my www.cafepress.com/MsCalvin website from google ads, and 66 of those are from people googling the word "sex". Isn't that a gas?

Have I mentioned before how well coffee, the Internet, the Sunday paper and Elvis gospel go together? Got nothing to do today except get Walker around 6 ish. That's a good day.

Mkay. Time to learn how to refuckinglax, I guess.

Manic

Every 6 months, I get manic. I appear to be in a phase now, where I could be online all day long, switching between myspace, facebook, gmail, blog, forum, other forum, chat room, liberal radio, cafepress.com, phoons.com, and shopping online.

I noticed the 6-month pattern whilst browsing my blog entries. I've done 17 now in December, with an average of 6 per month other months, except June, which had 14. That was EXACTLY 6 months ago.

Note to shrink.

Note to regular blog readers: google will start placing relevant ads on this site, which will be a gas to read I thought. Plus, if you click, I make a pittance.

Two Words: Christmas Vacation!

Eleven glorious days of gluttony, sex, and the Internet. Gotta love it.

Oh yeah, and family and friends. I'm planning on getting my closet under control upstairs, getting my husband to fucking relax, and hanging out with loved ones being totally, 100% lazy.

No work. No thinking about work.

We'll see.

Connor

Connor has balls. Literally and figuratively.

He is obsessed with sex, like 90% of the young men and women I have the pleasure of teaching daily. You gotta love teenage hormones. I think it's the reason I love teaching high school so much. It's the sex educator in me...I love to say things like penis and vagina and anal intercourse.

Anyway, back to Connor. He brings in a sex dujour topic daily during my planning time. It is fun. I'll spare you, the anonymous reader, the details, but know that the conversations are spirited, raunchy, but professional and respectful all at the same time.

I like that kid. Plus, he whined that I hadn't blogged about him.

Depression/Holiday Check

Just thought I'd do a public service in this private blog. Well, maybe it's a public blog.

Anyhoo, it's that time of the year folks, that time of the year when I can't seem to get in to see my shrink because he's so fucking busy with all the crazies going loony over the holidays...

...so hang in there. If you got da blues, particularly the winter blues...just hang on by your toenails, get some good old-fashioned nurturing and if needed, professional help, to help you make it through the season.

That's what I'm doing... breathing, reminding myself to live moment by moment, or second by second if needed. The shopping will get done, the house will be clean, and everyone will be happy.

Or not. Oh well, give it up, what you can't control, that is. That's what the pros say.

Google me!

Tee Hee. I'm a certifiable loon. I signed up for Google Ads. So now, search for certain keywords and My ad shows up:

Funny "Sexless" Products
Very funny artwork adorns novelty
items. Politically Incorrect.
cafepress.com/mscalvin

Sweetness!

4:00 a.m.: Yearbook Time

Well, I don't know why, but my brain raced me awake with visions of yearbook this morning at 3:00. Well, Elvis the cat first woke me up by kissing me passionately first, but the yearbook thoughts followed closely thereafter.

I need help. I already receive mental help. I have previously declared on these blog pages that I need a paraprofessional in my classroom to help. I think I'm going to ask for one. Will somebody make me do that?

Got to back up the templates and the pages and the photos and the graphics. Crap. Got to get a damn life. Seriously.

Fuck the Sexless

Feed the Hungry, House the Homeless, and F&%! the Sexless. Yes, order stickers, t-shirts, etc. with this catchy phrase at www.cafepress.com/MsCalvin

Testing, 1, 2, google 3. This blog's titles show up on google searches, so I thought I'd load it up. See, I've become a Republican Capitalist suddenly..well, capitalist, at least...

Well, I guess you can't copyright a phrase, just a work of art. So I will copyright my words over my picture, and call it good. I think I wasted $59 on the online version, but I think I can recoup that with sticker sales.

I'm home sick, dreaming of hitting it big so I can retire. Perhaps this is the most telling blog entry of all...

Fuck the Sexless

Well, I guess you can't copyright a phrase, just a work of art. So I will copyright my words over my picture, and call it good. I think I wasted $59 on the online version, but I think I can recoup that with sticker sales.

Rebel

I"m a rebel. I'm predicting that I'm going to get in some sort of trouble over my business venture. I better look up how easy it is to get the ACLU behind you in first amendment cases....

Also, Rebels are the Canon cameras that we use to capture all events of the year. They are digital and they rock and roll. I don't even know how to fully use them, but am learning so slowly. Rachel gave me a DVD two years ago that I think I'll watch some day.

I got a kitty fetish now: go to icanhascheezburger.com and laugh at the cute animal captions! It's journalism, loosely based. I admit it, I'm into fluff, like phooning and lolcats...

Oh well, I'm a rebel with a cause, and a rebel without a cause.

2 Magic Words: NO SCHOOL!

Thank God for global warming and freezing ice! Got the call at 5 am that school was canceled, and I'm so excited to have a bonus day to do nothing but sit on my ass if I want.

I do have a pack of papers at home to check, but I doubt if those get done. I also COULD curriculum map, but since that's the devil in disguise, I doubt that that gets done either. I also have a pile of clothes to put away, which would make my hubby happy, so we'll have to see what mood I'm in later.

Well, this is one of the few perks of being a school teacher. Snow days!

Go Mother Nature, go.

www.cafepress.com/MsCalvin

My new business page. I get a cut, truly! Order for all your christmas friends...start a national fad right here in the midwest!

Go there now:

www.cafepress.com/MsCalvin

Positive Things

Sometimes I think the world is only bad news, including stuff I write about in my own blog. So this post is dedicated to those positive things in life.

1. Freedom of Speech...cuz I have a feeling I'm going to get in trouble over my bumper sticker adventure. But I found a website where I think I can market it. They published this one: Will Somebody PLEASE give Bush a blow job quick, so we can impeach him? So, I think they will publish mine.
2. Students who survive high school and college...in spite of themselves and peers and pressures.
3. Health and Family...and a healthy family.
4. Sleeping through the night without waking up from stress or kitties or kids...or without being heavily medicated.
5. Mind-altering pursuits...like reading and caffeine.

Th-th-that's all folks. Yes, I realize that half of these are really negatives in disguise. Life is complex like that. For example, this morning I was faced with this dilemma: Is Elvis's "Bridge Over Troubled Water" a gospel song?

Cell Phones and Laptops

DAMN I'm pissed off. Social networking and teenagers is overstimulating the HELL out of me. Why am I capitalizing all swear words?

Anyhoo, the damn kids are addicted like crack to their cells and their myspace/facebook/msn messneger...and they are starting to whip out their phones like they know I won't do anything, which I haven't yet, and/or they are on the above-mentioned sites because the district's blocking software got knocked out when the server went down inexplicably last month.

Whew, that was one honking long sentence.

Now, I signed up for myspace and facebook and I do gmail a lot too, so I know the attraction, but I also know when to get out and live life too, I think. I did it initially to be protective of them online, you know, to make sure they weren't making it easy for pedophiles to prey on them, but soon it turned into a legitimate hobby.

But not in class. Not when we have so much fucking work to do. Please.

Follow-ups...

I'm sure that my newspaper and yearbook kids will soon get off their asses and call business to follow up on ad sales. Yeah, right.

I've got to put some people in charge...and have the people who are sitting around make the calls. Plus, January is a dead time in yearbook, so we could always focus on it then.

I need to follow up on a few other things too: ordering reporter pads and AP Stylebooks; getting the freshman nicknames down; sending in $50 more and changing what I tried to buy from ASNE; cleaning up piles, including piles that got damaged in a recent classroom flood; figuring out where $7,000 went in my yearbook budget, and finally, making labels and numbering all cameras.

SHIT. I'm working even when I'm playing. But I am sitting on MY ass whilst I typeth.

I have one thing to say: I'm an ass cheese.

PG-13 Version

Here is the final, PG-13 version. For $2, the 3" by 5" version can be yours. Contact me at mscalvin@gmail.com to order.

OMG

I actually ordered 50 bumper stickers online, to be delivered in 10 days via the US Postal Service for free.

Let me know if you want one!

I'm going to send some to Sandy in Seattle for sure, my partner in crime. We thought of this one drunken night in college, to be honest!

Yet another dream fulfilled...all due to modern technology.

New Bumper Sticker

I have applied my Photoshop skills in yet another way:

Christmas. There, I said it.

What a freaky time of year this is. It's the first of December, and now we can officially listen to Christmas music. I prefer to say "Christmas" over "the holidays," but not because I'm particularly politically correct. I guess I'm a Christian (that's another blog), so I've grown up with the holiday. But I hate it when conservatives whine about taking back Christmas, give me a fucking break.

Itchy is asleep on my lap right now. Or maybe it's Scratchy. I can't tell them apart when they aren't together. Kind of like the White or Gooding twins at school.

Speaking of school, all is not well in the NHS publictions dept. Romance may be brewing, which could be good until it goes bad. Computers are slow and poopy, so we are creating awards to hang on them. Tech problems plagued us from before Christmas break, so our paper was sloppy. We still haven't submitted any pages in yearbook. Kids aren't folowing up on advertising. We are $7,000 in debt for the yearbook. I suck.

Well, as Bing says, Melekalekamaka!

Relax, says Rachel

I love my yearbook editor, Rachel. Here she is:

I couldn't find a photo of her without some friend plastered to her forehead....that's the kind of girl she is. Always has a bevy of babes around her, a kind-of mother hen leading the gaggle of geese....so to speak.

So, I bothered her today via text message with details about the book. She told me to relax and stop thinking about it on a Sunday. HA. That's like stopping breathing on a Sunday. But I had a brilliant idea. She has created a photo of Maytag that's yearbook worthy...so i say we get rid of the extreme sports layout and replace it with a tribute to Maytag...it deserves it after 100 some years in the community. Sorry Jordizzle, but I think we can't get much better than last year's extreme sports layout, and since you haven't even started it, I'm sure it won't be hard to kill. I love journalism terms. Kill. Put it to bed.

I hate bifocals, which I will pick up from the eyeglass place on Wednesday...middle age has struck with a vengeance...plantar fasciitis last week, new purple Ralph Lauren no-line bifocal glasses this week.

It's a love and hate kind of day.

Photoshop fun

I learned something all on my own today: Now I can resize photos, grayscale photos, adjust levels and brightness/contrast, resave in a new format, apply a filter, and now (drumroll please) how to desaturate and add spot color!

Example #1: Evil Itchy and Scratchy!

Another Damn Thankful List

On this Thanksgiving vacation, I'd like to officially declare thanks for the following:

• A nice soft couch that cushes my butt. As a matter of fact, this couch has been in my family since the 70's.
• Healthy family members, for the most part. Yea, Phil's teeth suck and my heel blows, but those are minor maladies.
  
• Students who rock, and former students who keep in touch and crack me up.
• Children who are happy, and who I hope inherited none of my overactive brain. Well, I know Walker did, but maybe Quincy will escape the curse.
• A husband who takes care of my every need.
  
• An extended family who doesn't argue very often...
• AND FINALLY, my beautiful fingernails. It's the little things, like the fact that I'm not in Iraq.

I hate these fucking thankful lists. What I'm really thankful for, to tell you the truth, is the fact that I can still do a little dance, make a little love, get down tonight...

Itchy and Scratchy

Just for fun, I'll introduce you to the newest members of our family: itchy and scratchy.

I caved in to pressure from my boys, because we were down to 3 cats and that seemed about normal from having the mess of 6 cats. But their mother died when they were little, and Shauna Smith raised them and bottle fed them, so we decided to adopt them.

This is what keeps me sane and insane all at the same time.

I want to burst out in song: The Circle of Life... (from the Lion King, because life is a Disney movie...)

Ads suck and blow

We sold ads this week and the entire experience left me exhausted and spent. From organizing it with Amanda, who is so dedicated it is scary, to encouraging kids to follow-up, which is like spitting in the wind, the process was agonizingly time consuming. I need a parapro to help, and I haven't even got the guts up to ask for one yet.

So, the big day was Thursday, with Tuesday and Wednesday spent preparing lists and routes and practicing for "the sale." I had Jostens support the first two years of doing this, so this was the first time out by myself. And it went ok, i guess. If we follow-up, we will have made as much as last year, and can have our color issue in May for the newspaper. But we won't have any extra money in yearbook to buy any cameras or anything. I'm in good shape though, except for the printer and scanner.

So, all in all, ads are just "there." We didn't break any records, but the Newton community seems to support us enough to sustain us, even with the departure of Maytag and the lonely repairman.

It's just all the drama and organizing that's giving me a headache. That sucks, and it blows that we're not supposed to say suck and blow in school. Oh well, I still say hell and damn and ass occasionally.

But in my blog I can say fuck and get away with it. I like that. It helps break the tension of this incredibly high energy teaching gig I've gotten myself into. I love it and hate it all at the same time. And that fucking sucks AND blows.

"Bus!"

The week that yearbooks come in is like working at McDonald's when a bus pulls in.

Everyone wants their yearbook NOW! Parents call and interrupt class, as if getting their son/daughter's yearbook was the most important thing in the world.

Of course, it was Halloween Day when we distributed them, so it WAS fashionably late. But still, I feel like the most popular person at good old NHS. The only problem is that we are working on THIS year's yearbook, and it is going as slow as every other year.

Plus, the next step is selling ads, mainly because we are $7,000 short on last year's bill. Matt, my yearbook rep, said not to worry. But I'm worried.

Some days I feel like I'm riding the short bus. You know, I just heard that phrase for the first time this past year. For being so smart, sometimes, I sure am stupid.

The BOOK is in...but they are MUNCHED.

Crap on a biscuit.

Jared's beautiful book, so wonderful in so many ways, got munched in a couple ways too.

First, the shipping company munched 5 cartons, resulting in 20 some books being destroyed, 12 of which were personalized books. Secondly, the junior and freshman portraits pages got inadvertently flopped. That's all the bad news, so far.

But it is a true masterpiece...graphically speaking. That boy outdid himself, and I'm just sorry that there are no contests this late in the year. Heavy sigh.

Lastly, I DON'T WANNA DO ANOTHER ONE. Waa Waa Waa. I think I can do it, but I don't wanna. My head hurts because of it. But it's Friday, so I shall try to relax and stop thinking about all the fucking work I gotta do next week.

Yea. That's the ticket.

Love

Love stinks. When it goes bad, that is.

I've been talking to Jared, who has a broken heart. I feel so badly for him. Does this come with the territory? Getting so close to students while you work on the yearbook and newspaper that you actually feel their pain? Well, I know most people aren't as crazily empathic as I am, as evidenced in my ENFP diagnosis on the Myers/Briggs Personality Inventory, or being totally Blue on the True Colors system.

Enuf psycho-babble. The boy is hurting. All I can do is go blah blah blah time will heal....which doesn't help at all.

Oh well, I guess we all have to heal ourselves.

Love is wonderful in my book, but I've been happily married for 9 years now. Wow. I think I'll stop and appreciate THAT for awhile, as I navigate this crazy thing called life and love.

Mercury Poisoning

I love tuna. When I am stressed, I can always eat a tuna sandwich. Seriously. Now I can be stressed because of mercury poisoning from the delectable little fish.

Everything that doesn't kill you will eventually kill you.

You read it here first.

I heard about this whilst listening to the Stephanie Miller show on novamradio.com. No, it's not a liberal conspiracy, she just suspected she had been poisoned and a blood test confirmed it. I have some of the same symptoms, like inability to sleep and profuse sweating. Of course, mine could be peri-menopausal too.

Anyway, I am off topic, and I know it. This does not relate to high school journalism at all.

Or does it?

Survey Says...

I took a survey at work yesterday about being a journalism adviser. (That's right, we are advisErs, not advisOrs...look it up in AP Style.)

Anyway, the questions lead me to believe that there is a common problem with being a journalism adviser and emotional stress and career burnout. I'm not alone.

Whew.

But I suspect I'm still crazy from it all. Any regular blog readers out there want to comment?

The Survey

I took a survey today that was forwarded to me by the state press association for high school journalists.

The New Cast

Notice the date and time. Yes, I am obsessing about work at 4:45 on a Friday. Nuts.

The new cast and crew of the newspaper and yearbook are truly functioning very healthily. My leaders are stepping up and my followers are trying hard and not fucking around as much as the masses in the past. It appears that the people that I trained and selected are serious about what they are doing. It's refreshing, and it's like I had an epiphany just now.

Hmmm.

Dammit. That whole "should I stay or should I go now" inner debate is tiring me out. I gotta decide AGAIN what I wanna do next year, same situation, same bat channel. And I'm a Libra.

So, the two biggest barriers to success I have in my present job seem to be:

1. The technology, as previous discussed, ad nauseum. I spent half the day trouble shooting technology. I have learned lots on inDesign, and I have learned lots on Photoshop, but I still can't do anything with them.

2. Talent. I'm sure every coach goes through this. By the time your Seniors leave, you think that nobody will ever be able to fill their shoes. But maybe they can. Maybe the next year's Seniors will rise to the occasion, if I learn the programs.

So, I was impressed with the wit of Lauren J. on newspaper deadline night. She's funny as hell. That makes me respect her even more. Cam the man is being a worthy leader and remembers most stuff. Derika is Derika.

And on the yearbook side, Rachel is rocking and rolling as editor-in-chief. She and Allison could do this book on their own, but I'm glad we have a staff to help. Connor is alternatingly talented and inept, which is cute.

So, the new cast is off and running. We'll see if we can get 9 issues to bed on time and 1 yearbook done by July 1.

The DL on the DL

After a year of procrastinating, I got my driver's license renewed. Well, almost a year. If I would have waited another day, I would have had to drive with the D.O.T. See, I'm a dumbass.

I noticed the problem about 3 days after the 60-day expiration grace period, last year. I then got a book to study and carried it around with me for over half-a-fucking year, never once cracking it open.

Then, I barely studied and took the test yesterday. I failed it by missing 8, when you can only miss 7 to pass. But I've already previously established that I am a loser. I kicked her into high gear and (ha ha, honestly, I didn't get my own pun until just now) studied harder and only missed 2 today. So I'm the proud owner of a brand spanking new DL.

That's the DL on that.

Now, back to journalism news. I've been thinking about Jared a lot lately. He's missed by me. That's my attempt at passive voice. I miss him for two reasons. One, his impeccible work ethic, and two, his hang-out ability. He's cool. I've got to copy the stylebook that he put with his brain for everyone on both staffs.

Damnit. Now I'm off on things I gotta do. See how this job is?

Help.

Optimistically Pessimistic

Well, we published the first issue of the paper without the Woodser, Pi and Steakboy. Whew. It's over, I'm happy to report. And I didn't die, and I didn't freak out too much, and I didn't hurt any children in the process.

And the paper ain't half bad for a fledgling news magazine. Our cover page had glitches caused by the printing process somehow, but was actually a pleasing visual. Our stories had substance and the graphics weren't too obnoxious. Some students liked it and others wondered why the change. We'll have to address that in the next issue and have a cut-out survey or something. Even though we won't learn much, said Jack last summer in my super duper class. WWJD? What would Jack do?

The yearbook is also off to a good start: we have the ladder all assigned and deadlines set, the layouts are done and ready to be put onto the server. Students should be beginning working as early as next week on their layouts on the computers. Whew..this job is intense.

How are those programs going? Not too shabby. I can indent, and now I can do hanging indentation. I can package and burn and get it to the printer. We fucked up our page layout sequence for the printer, however, so we gotta deal with that.

Oh well, like the title insinuates, I'm optimistically pessimistic about shit in general.

Loser

I'm a Loser with a capital "L".

I can't seem to stay awake past 9 p.m., and it's beginning to interfere with my social life. I was supposed to go out last night at 7, and I was too tired. Plain and simple, too tired.

How fucking boring is that?

Oh well, on the up side, I'm getting lots of good sleep these days, and therefore have been feeling pretty good at school most of the time. No psycho-symptomatic stuff going on so far, and only the occasional morning barfs. I'm crossing my fingers...and toes...and eyes.

Also on the up side, my editors for newspaper and yearbook all seem to have a grasp of what they are doing and it's cool...things are going fairly smoothly so far, but we are behind in newspaper. I doubt we make deadline. And yearbook is going... slowly. Rachel is the new Jared and she is doing very well so far, so I guess I'm not complaining.

Except for the part where I'm a loser.

Paper Backlog

I live by the pile approach to life. If somebody messes with my piles, it pisses me off.

But right now I have a huge pile of papers that need to be checked by me and only me.

I have a huge pile of other stuff to read to improve myself.

I have a huge pile of laundry needing to be put away.

I have a huge mess of a closet upstairs with clothes I never wear that need to be sorted out and given to good will.

And I have piles of crap from 2005-06 and 2006-07 that need to be organized and put away in my classroom.

The piles themselves are now pissing me off. I hate a paper backlog, and I wish I could wave my wand and it would be done, providing students with quality feedback. But for now, I just wanna sit on my butt and read the Sunday paper. Which will pile up if I don't read it now.

See?

The Brain of Jared (made me cry)

Oh Glorious Day. We put the book to bed yesterday, and I am hap-hap-happy.

It feels so GOOD to be done with that damn yearbook. I know I have to start immediately on another one, but for one day, I'm DONE.

Voot.

My hubby and I celebrated last night, and I hope Jared gets some well-deserved sleep today after his all night shift at Perkins. Now that I've mentioned that chain, I'll have to mention that I really enjoy Reubens from Country Kitchen. Enough random advertising.

My favorite part of yesterday, when Jared announced that Marvin was done "digesting", was when we were dancing to Nickelback's "Animal" song and playing a PS2 guitar hero guitar and Jared presented me with a small 3-ring notebook entitled "Jared's Brain". In this notebook contains a step by step instruction manual on EVERYTHING I need to know to do my fucking job. NO KIDDING. It's GREAT. It's ALIVE and vibrant and full of Jared...humor and more importantly, a guide to doing everything I need to know in order to survive another year, at least.

That's all I'm giving it. Another year. I need to live day by day at home AND on the job. I don't know what I want to do next year, but I am giving it my best shot NOW and every day so I can learn what I need to know. Then if I leave, it won't be because I feel like a loser, but it will be because I gave it my best and it just fell short of the mark.

New Goals

I made six new goals for this school year, based on the theory of WWJD: What Would Jack Do.

You know, Jack, my teacher this summer at the UI class that saved my ass. The one that made me all tingly with a love for journalism. Well, as soon as I have all the editors picked for both newspaper and yearbook, I shall begin implementing these new goals.

They include:

1. Setting up a beat system where each kid covers a beat or two, and files information about all sports, clubs, and academics.

2. Utilizing the Maestro Team approach to covering page design and news coverage.

3. Teach mini-lessons on news reporting, writing, editing, design, and yadda yadda yadda.

4. Set up a system for photography coverage, both in newspaper and yearbook.

5. Grading: make people more accountable for meetings deadlines in grading.

6. Advertising: combine newspaper and yearbook and take a few half-days off school to sell ads.

And now I know what I need to ask for: a parapro to run the business end of things, so I can focus on curriculum and production -- and, YOU GOT IT, learning the fucking programs.

Mkay.

I'm glad things are off to a good start, now remember Lisa -- baby steps to perfection...

The Fog is Lifting

Well, the experiment to reduce brain drugs failed, and I feel better now that I've resumed them all. I'm fine when I don't work, but the closer it got to the time school started, the worse I felt. My OCD kicked in big time this year, but I'm happy to realize and report that I felt great all the first week of school.

I seriously didn't know how I was going to start this school year with all of the talent drain that I suffered. No more Jared and no more Greg and no more Pi. Except that I still see them sometimes. But not every day and not helping me look good with the newspaper and the yearbook. Although Pi did restructure the ad program and Jared is still helping us do the yearbook for last year.

Anyhoo, about 3 weeks before school started, I entered the fog. It was thick and penetrating this time and I wondered how I'd teach. I had teaching nightmares and anxiety bad. I lost 10 lbs. in two weeks, which is good as I've entered the moderately obese category. So, after I started up the meds again I felt immediately better. Psychosymatic or real, who knows. I gained a little of the weight back, but I'll deal with that later.

I think my new kids will do fine. I think we'll all learn together. I think I can relax. I hope the fog is lifting.

And We're Off. . .

S

Harry Potter Haze

I wish I weren't a muggle.

I want to do magic with a wand that has chosen me. I want to live in a world with ultimate possibilities...where good triumphs over evil.

Is that so much to ask?

I have to face reality tomorrow, after being in a Harry Potter-induced coma for over a week now. I've been sitting, still, but also reading the last two books in the series. I've accomplished a minor goal, and I thoroughly enjoyed the ride. The last journey is great, and I won't spoil it for anyone who still needs to read the book.

But now it's over. I only have around 9 days of summer left, and I'm experiencing anxiety at new levels. Crap. I never learned the programs, and I only work with Jared for 3 more days. I'm screwed in a lightbulb.

Maybe not. I have plans, and dreams, and energy to give. Shit that's vague. Jack sparked something in me this summer at that class at the UI, so I need to channel that and conquer the haze. . .

. . .and make magic happen in that classroom.

Sitting

I asked Jared what he was doing when I called him up to tell him we couldn't work on the yearbook this week because they are waxing the floor, and he said, "sitting." As if simply sitting was an event in and of itself.

I was skeptical at first, but after nearly four days of sitting on my ass doing nothing, I tend to concur. I have not been being simply lazy: I have been "sitting." I have been purposeful in my sitting. I have had goals for my sitting. I have achieved things while sitting.

I am getting quite good at it too, except for the part of me that is screaming out to get up and move. I am discontent. Something's gotta give.

Phooning for Phun

I just got my phourth phoon on phoons.com. That's quite a pheat. Here it is:

http://www.phoons.com/doorhole.html

My mother took this spontaneously as we were checking out the latest on the construction at their new home. I've never actually phooned in a skirt before, so this was interesting. But I like how she didn't center me (rule of thirds!) and how I blend in with the background -- kind of an earth mother in birkenstocks hanging out in an eco-friendly house.

Next phoon goal? Who knows. . .as usual, stay tuned. I'm so glad I have this hobby to keep me out of trouble. . .

The Storm Front

I just experienced the most glorious thing: a storm came through and cooled the world down to a tolerable level. . .

So I'm wondering what wonderful analogy could be drawn from this. That there might be a cool front at the end of this journey I have set upon? Nah, too obvious and trite.

I'm screwed. Jared tried to teach me some basic photoshop stuff that was supposedly easy, and I was a sucky pupil. I just don't have the natural inquisition necessary to dive into that program and learn it. The menus, layers and pop-out thingees overstimulate my pea brain. I need to force myself to learn it every day. . .but then some of this lazy fun that I've been having will have to go.

And good news: no anxiety this week! No "Monday blahs" on Tuesday either, which is grand. Actually, I haven't had a spell for a while, but it is summer and I am on a reduced schedule. Maybe the analogy could be that I'm dealing with life on fewer meds, and therefore experiencing a calm after the storm?

I'm crossing my fingers.

Jared

Hey mom, here he is:

Bacon

I tried to poison my mother-in-law yesterday by serving her bacon in the spinach quiche. She is a vegetarian. I like my mother-in-law, and I just simply forgot that bacon was meat, I guess.

I cannot use an apostrophe in this communication, btw, it must be a glitch in the program.

Somebody texted me last night and said they got arrested. I hate text messages and I refuse to respond. But I sure hope whoever it was calls me soon. . .

Caulk

I love that word. Caulk. Say it slowly and focus on the aul. It kind of chokes you up a bit, and it's such a fun word. Some people say "cock" when they mean "caulk".

Fuselage is another fun word. So is toy.

Fuselage is fun because it kind of rolls around your tongue, and that "auge" sound at the end is cool. Toy is just fun becauses of its connotation.

Fun names of students I've had include Wook Jin Chun, LaQueena Head, and Amy Dick. Wonder where they all are now? Wook Jin had a goal of memorizing the dictionary, and I bet he accomplished that and more. LaQueena was in the inner city of Des Moines last I knew, and Amy was a south sider.

I love words.

Every Damn Day

I get tired of those things I have to do every day. Stuff like brushing my teeth and taking a shower. Stuff like getting up and going to work. Stuff like eating.

It's not that I'm against those things. . .I just wish I didn't have to do them every damn day. Well, technically I don't work EVERY day, I guess. Sometimes these tasks just seem to be Herculean.

This week has been good. The yearbook is going nicely, due to Jared's ingenuity and solid design eye. He's been good at teaching me small stuff that I hope I remember. Why does my short- term memory not work when it comes to these programs? I have even gone off of one of my meds that made me zombie-like. But it's only been about 3 days so I haven't noticed anything different. My shrink said I might lose weight and have more energy, but also might have more anxiety.

I hope I have the positive and not the negative, but if history proves itself to repeat then I'm sure to get the side effects. Remind me to tell you about my history of accidentally overdosing on brain medications. What a long strange trip it's been.

5 Days

Well, it lasted exactly 5 days.

Now I'm back to "screw the yearbook" thinking. But we are steeped in it right now. Jared is working his already small behind off, but he's doing some amazing work. I think we could win some awards.

I ordered a couple books to help me learn inDesign CS2 and Photoshop CS2. Wow. the evil- programs-that-shall-not-be-named have been named. I've got to learn these or sink with the ship. I've got to use these and teach kids and produce great journalism.

I'm making a list of all the topics I need to teach and I have some work to do for the last couple credits for the Kennedy course. But I'm looking at it like I "gotta'' do it instead of "want" to do it.

You know, I think this blog has clearly shown the cycles that my brain goes through. I cycle every week on Monday usually, but if not Monday then Tuesday. I get "The Mondays" and I feel funky and blue. I'll tell you about it some time. But this week it was Thursday before I truly started bitching about working at school instead of being with my family. Waa waa waa.

Enough about me. Talk amongst yourselves. In the mean time, how's global warming working for all of us?

Epiphany

I've had an epiphany of sorts.

It all started 25 years ago for me, when I did my practicum teaching with Jack Kennedy at City High in Iowa City. That's when I fell in love with journalism education -- when I saw this man make magic happen in his school newspaper. He went on to win many awards and will become the President of the JEA tomorrow.

And I got to listen to this wonderful man for four straight, glorious days as he pontificated about advising publications. . .and now I'm hooked again.

Hook, line, and sinker.

I want to change the world again. I want to teach talented kids about the first amendment and the power of the press.

I want to do what I thought I was stuck doing.

It was a truly epiphanous experience, and I hope this feeling lasts.

Hemorrhoids

This sensitive subject deserves equally as sensitive treatment. This blog is dedicated to that special part of my ass that only appears occasionally, wreaking havoc whenever it begins to throb, yes, you know, it, my hemorrhoids.

Well, hemorrhoid actually. The one that first appeared during the birth of my first son. If I were to name it, I'd probably call it "Hal." I don't know why.

Anyway, Hal only appears now when I struggle with a particularly nasty bowel movement. I avoid doing this at all costs, however, because Hal is no fun.

Why is Hal significant? Because I love scattelogical humor. And today all I have to do is pack up for graduate school in Iowa City. This week-long class should be interesting and fun, and I can't seem to get off my ass (minus Hal) and pack. I'm too fat for any of my cute summer clothes, so I have to wear the old lady stuff. Oh well, I am looking more like an old lady than a co-ed, and the sooner I realize that the more fun I'll have playing my role.

I have all the things I didn't have back when I was a co-ed. I have a wonderful husband, doting kids, and a career that makes me feel good inside.

But dammit, I also have Hal. And therein lies the problem. I'm a 40-something professional who is one bowel movement push away from being practically incapacitated.

Oh well, shit happens.

I learned something

Yea! I am learning! Jared taught me how to scan and I've done it several times without him. He also taught me about the clone stamp tool, and I restored my wedding picture that had been damaged. See it here: http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d149/MsCalvin/CalvinWedding8x10.jpg

And Pi is conducting a class for future editors, and I learned more about placing text and photos into an indesign document. I knew most of it, so I have a bit of confidence. . but there is a fucking lot more to learn!

Anyway, if I get my head out of my ass a little bit more, maybe I won't want to leave this job. Who knows?

Summer Goals

So I achieved two big milestone goals already, early in the summer.

First, I accidentally stumbled upon Phoon #4, and I"ll upload it when it becomes available on phoons.com.

Second, I achieved "Hit Artist" status on SingStar this morning on Black Horse and a Cherry Tree. The only problem is that the words don't make any sense. I can sing the hell out of it, but I have no idea what story I am telling.

Story of my life. I have no idea what story I am telling.

I Hate Yearbook

I've got to admit it so I can get over it. I hate yearbook. I truly do.

I need to do research about the longevity of the average yearbook adviser. I'd guess it's not long. The job is a killer. My shrink says I make too much of it, that my OCD makes me puke in the mornings, but I say it's the job.

Couple THAT with the fact that I'm computer semi-illiterate. I gotta give myself SOME credit, I can troubleshoot lots, but I'm not that great with the Adobe Creative Suite software. That's my nemesis.

OK. Time for SuperCalvin vs. Creative Suite. Actually, it's time for me to kick ass on SingStar on PS2.

Pissed Off And Happy

Well, I emailed them, and they responded. A letter was mailed out today informing me that they hired somebody else for the job. So, naturally, I am pissed and feel like a loser.

But, strangely, I am also happy that I shall remain where I am. How dichotomous.

Well, now the entire reason for this blog is painfully brought back to my attention. I need to learn my damn programs, and maybe this job won't be such a stressful son-of-a-bitch.

JARED! We only have 2 months for me to learn lots.. .so teach me, before you go off to be a cyclone. I'll try to be a good pupil.

FUCK. How funny to be both pissed and joyous. This is a new one.

So I tried to run away and didn't make it. But I happen to know there will be another opening next year that I'll probably go for, so I just gotta hang out for another year and be good.

HAHAHA. That's funny. I feel like it's becoming opposite day. I think I'll test out that first amendment and get called in to the office a few more times this next year. ...then they might not want me to stick around so much. . . oh, I didn't blog about that one. . .yet.

Friday and a Broken Ankle

Well, you know how you bang yourself on something and then later, when the bruise appears, you don't remember doing it? That happened with my ankle. Except I think I chipped a bone, so you'd think I'd remember doing THAT.

Hmmmmm.

And it's Friday. If the District doen't call today, I'll be double pissed. Oooooh, I'm such a badass.

I just wanna know what I'm doing next year! Is that too much to ask? And I have a slight case of OCD, so I'm tending to obsess about it. Only now, God gave me a busted ankle to divert my attention.

She works in mysterious ways.

Phoon Goal

I need an idea for my 4th Phoon. I have an idea for Quincy, which will be my 5th "contributor Phoon", to jump on the trampoline and phoon in mid-air.

But I need inspiration for my next one. I lack a goal right now, of which I am painfully aware as I sit and stare at this computer screen.

The first was easy to conceive: Phoon on the lunchroom table at Newton High School:

http://www.phoons.com/calvin.html

The second also came easy once Maytag was acquired by Whirlpool:

http://www.phoons.com/maytag.html

And last summer, once I saw the "Do Not Play" signs crop up around town, I knew I had to Phoon on the memorial:

http://www.phoons.com/playing.html

But now, what is phoonworthy around here? Where can I get the perfect photo to submit to the ultra picky John at phoons.com?

I wish I was like some of the people on the site, who seem to have unlimited funds to travel the globe and to phoon in exotic locales. . .instead, I've got to look at this area sideways to find the perfect phoon location.

Instead of thinking outside the box, which is now cliche, I think I'll start looking around sideways. HMMMMmmmmmmm. Sounds like an interesting proposition.

Rage Against The Man

We were just listening to Tom Morello on youtube.com, a political guitarist/singer who's mom just introduced him by saying "Fuck President Bush." How interesting. He's the former guitarist of Rage Against the Machine, and he was suggested to us by one of my favorite former students, Mr. Vancent Flattery.

A typical Sunday morning for most, I'm sure. We've already done the Elvis Gospel thing, and have moved on. Two cups of coffee will do that for you, I guess.

I'm reading the Sunday paper and there is a plethora of information on the Iowa caucuses. The election is over a year away, and we already are inundated with crap here in Iowa. I'm going this time, for the first time, to my caucus, so I should read the shit.

I don't know who to vote for yet, though. Obama? Clinton? Edwards? Kucinich? Hmmmmm. who could win? Remember, I'm not very good at judging, I liked Howard Dean -- especially his famous scream. . . I thought that ADDED character.

I just don't want The Man to win. . .that is, a republican man. Or a republican woman, for that matter -- they are scary bitches.

Go caffeine.

Medium Hair #8

I hate it when I do what I've done before, expecting different results.

I wanted a new haircut, so I decided to chop 7 inches off. Major. Radical. Looks nothing like the picture I brought with me:

http://hairstyles.free-beauty-tips.glam.com/medium8.shtml

Instead, it looks like the same haircut I've been getting, only 7" shorter. YUK. I'll spare you, the reader, the trauma of looking at a picture of me. Plus, I don't have a cool studded bracelet, like KenFin pointed out yesterday.

There's an ad in the paper today for a secondary social studies position. Who knows if this is related to the deal with my transfer. Like I said before, something is amok.

OH, and the Colonel is an asshole. But that's a whole other post -- if I'm ever in a foul mood again I'll blog about the Colonel who's name happens to be Dick.

I should be happier. Summer is officially here for the school teachers. But I have to start working again next Tuesday, on the yearbook. But I get paid extra, so I guess I have to suck it up. Plus, I get to hang with Jared, and Greg is coming in also to help a bit. I'll have to get some InDesign tips out of his brain on to paper.

Why can't I ever stop working?

Working on Vacation

I'm at school right now. Presumably to drop off a camera receipt that was due, but in reality, so I can blog. Our Internet is down in Baxter, much to my chagrin. I'm also looking at Jason, or Pi, who is working on who knows what in the computer lab next door. We're supposed to be having a class right now, but I cancelled it because I didn't want to work. And now I'm here working.

Kind of.

I just backed up our server in case something were to happen to our yearbook files. Now I'm trying to print the senior pages so I can take them home and proofread them. The life of a yearbook adviser is glamorous, yes, 'tis true.

I think the district fucking sucks. They let me end the school year not knowing what I'm doing next year. I think that is a raw deal, and since this blog is all about my opinion, I guess I'm right.

Oh well, I'm working on my first day of vacation. I'm either dedicated or stupid.

Everett and his other brother Everett

My neighbor's name is Everett. He's out talking to my husband right now. They do this every so often, cuz it's the neighborly thing to do.

He's a sweet man, but not the brightest bulb in the shed. He's got a brother who is hunch-backed like Everett, so I call him Everett also. I think his name is actually Don. This will be important when I become rich and famous, because by mentioning them in my blog, I have inadvertantely made them famous too. They will be like Larry Bud Melman, or Mujibur and Sirajul from David Letterman, plucked from obscurity into celebrity.

Why is this significant? Because I'd like a diet coke right now. See, product placement is everything.

BTW

By the way, no word yet on the status of my employment for next year. I ran into the prinicpal, and she insinuated that something is amok.

I hate amok.

Especially when I'm at the receiving end of it.

Battle of the Bands

I was a judge last night in a local Battle of the Bands, and it was one of the hardest jobs I've ever had. There were four of us: me, the professor, the kid, and the big guy. The professor tried to run the whole thing, the kid pissed me off, and the big guy was pretty cool. My favorite band got second, and I had to fight for that.

I also witnessed a disturbing thing that has me bummed a bit. When the bands were playing I was jamming. My head was a bopping and my feet were tapping while I was sitting in the judges row. Twice, I saw high school kids point me out to their friends, like I was some kind of freak. Some middle-aged woman head banging.

It really is fucking with my psyche. I mean, I've been jamming since before the little fuckers were born. Why did I feel so freakish?

Oh well, oh by the way, the bio's they read for us were pretty funny. The professor wrote some long-ass, long-winded thing about his vast musical experience, and the kid wrote a brief little list of his musical talents, and the big guy has been in an impressive number of bands covering different genres. So when it came time to write mine, I had to get creative:

"Lisa Calvin played drums in 5th grade, and was a violinist in high school. Later, she turned sex educator and now teaches journalism at the high school."

A Kid Named Jared

I'm about to go to a graduation party for Jared, and Quincy is trying to drum up some friend business to go to the park with us, and he just told his friend on the phone that the party is for "A kid named Jared" That seemed to undersell Jared quite a bit, so let me tell you a bit more about this amazing kid.

I first fell in love with his brain, from a strictly teacher-student perspective. He was anonymous to me, on my forum, and I kept waiting for his next post to see what witty and totally cerebral thing he'd post next. Once I found out his identity, i went to search him out on purpose in another classroom. Then I fell in love with his eyes. So deep and brooding and searching.

Now, I love his total persona. He is responsible, articulate, perceptive, and like I said, overall amazing. He will see this yearbook through to the end, of that I am sure. Plus, he will force me to learn those damn pesky programs.

I'm going to go celebrate his recent rite of passage now.

Elvis

Elvis is a big part of my life. Every Sunday, he croons his gospel tunes in my living room as I read the Sunday paper and drink my coffee. He also appears at other times, when my husband spins his videos on youtube.com or plays his vast MP3 collection.

He is always there. In a spiritual way, he has been a part of my life forever because my mom was also a huge fanatic.

So, indirectly Elvis has been a part of the very fabric of my existence. . .a part of my subconscious and conscious. . .

. . .so I guess it's fitting that we might actually get off our duffs and head to Graceland this summer. That is if gas prices don't soar.

Help Me Rhonda

Well, no phone call on Friday. I have heard different things over the past week which have made me feel like I'm riding a roller coaster with no end. . .

I suppose I will hear early next week. So for the long weekend, I must just sit tight and enjoy the endless graduation parties.

WTF?

Sit tight? How the hell am I supposed to do that when I'm bipolar OCD? HUH?

I can't make any future plans with any heart behind them until I hear. I can't seem to think about much else until I hear. I have to control my brain until I hear.

Until I hear, schmear.

Oh well, as we say in the educational business, it's almost summer.

ONE MORE WEEK

I got a courtesy phone call today informing me of two things:

1. it will be another week before any decisions are made.
2. they are tying the job in with a coaching position.

When reading between these lines, I can only conclude two things:

1. I won't be getting the job.
2. I won't be getting the job.

So, therefore, i will now focus on being where I am for another year. What do I need to do to survive? Jason has put up a sign-up sheet for a class for future editors, and several were at deadline night last night. I can attend this class and learn along with them. I can be optimistic. I can talk to the English teachers and get names of kids who could step in and write and do computer stuff.

Plus, I have Jared all summer. He's my ace in the hole, or whatever the fuck that phrase is.

I must do what that boy said before, "Learn."

Clear my head, get off some of the brain drugs, try to strike this balance called life.

The Waiting

Is the hardest part. Sing it like Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers.

I hate how my obsessive/compulsive brain works. It's in overdrive now. . .as it was last week, BEFORE the interview. I'm thinking I rambled incessantly during the interview, and didn't maintain very good eye contact, and might have been too energetic. . .crap.

Why do I beat myself up like this? I'll be fine if I don't get the job, but I find myself desperately wanting it now. I don't want to feel inadequate any more, to feel like an unfrozen caveman, unfamiliar with your technological ways.

Crud biscuits.

Two weeks from Tuesday

That's when I'll know something. Two fucking whole weeks.

Sorry about all the f-bombs. . .but I warned you in the title of this blog that it wasn't for the faint of heart. . .

Uff-Duh

My dear, departed grandmother Kunze always used to say Uff-Duh when she was frustrated. I say fuck when I'm frustrated.

FUCK, FUck, fuck.

I'm obsessing about this decision, and it might all be out of my control. Considering I'm a certifiable control freak, that's fucking scary. It means my brain is working overtime: weighing all the options, picturing all the kids who would be pissed at me. . .but being totally relived that I wouldn't have to learn much more about Adobe Creative Suite CS2. I know enough to start up a newspaper at the alternative school, which I also happen to have experience doing.

Pros and cons. Yes and No. Grey areas, and maybes. Uff-Duh FUCK.

Should I stay or should I go now?

Let's just say it was an understatement when I said May was my month in last week's blog. I now have a new job opportunity that is exciting, and I am in a win/win situation because I love my current job also.

So, should I stay or go? That will be the question over the next week. Sorry I can't give more details, but in time, I will.

I can't do my job, end of statement. I know the hardware in my room, but the software escapes me. I have built a strong program for someone else to step into. But then again, why leave? Lots of kids will be upset, fer sure.

If you read this, just don't tell my boss, yet, please!

April 28: Two Days till D-Month

May seems to be my month. I gotta get it all done during May. Then I lose Woodser. Jared will be around this summer for sure, and probably off and on during the year. Pi says he will be around, but his mother didn't seem too confident he'd be able to as much as he says. I will be on my own, with limited support, that's for sure.

So, I have two days to prepare myself for the whirlwind that is May in public education, and specifically in a publications classroom. We gotta get many pages DONE in yearbook, and I gotta secure my summer talent to work on the remaining pages. I also have to redesign the newspaper and figure out what's up for next year. I have a week-long graduate course in publications advising in June, and the entire yearbook has to be done in early July. Well, it doesn't HAVE to be done, but if I don't want my name to be "mud" I WILL GET IT DONE this year on time. It'd be nice to have it done in time to distribute at Homecoming.

Well, the progress update is gloomy. I didn't open the programs again, but I am learning some stuff slowly and surely. We did have an inexplicable glitch in the newspaper that caused some ads to run wrong, so that has us puzzled. I understand some stuff and other stuff I don't. This is problematic at best. When will I feel competent in this job?

Stay tuned.

The Real McCoy

I just read in the Sunday Des Moines Register that there's a reason I am how I am. The McCoy's have had a generational disease, apparently, that "causes high blood pressure, racing hearts, severe headaches, and too much adreneline and other "fight or flight" stress hormones. " This condition can inevitably lead to tumors of the adrenal gland. This has led to their notorious behavior in the Hatfield vs. McCoy clan feud.

Why is this significant? My grandparents' names are Kenny and Bessie McCoy. My mother's maiden name is therefore, McCoy, which makes me the real McCoy.

We've always explained our ornery behavior on the McCoy side of the family. Now there's medical proof. How insane and absolutely hilarious.

Mental Progress

I survived the wedding, fooling most of my relatives into thinking I can sing a little. So that was good for the ole' self esteem.

I also survived the flu, which had me thinking I was a total loser. But I'm back mentally and physically now, so that's good.

Finally, I think I understand what needs to be done to survive the talent drain I'm about to face. I can't do it yet, but I understand the scope of the problem. The boys and I are going to survive the awards banquet first, then we're going to train my future staff. All in the month of May.

OH SHIT. I just realized that the seniors' last day is in May. Which means they will be gone. No more Jared, Pi, or Woodser? GULP. I'm crying a little, seriously. Wow, those boys mean more to me than I realized. It's not just about the job; it's about the relationships we've formed.

Heavy.

Pregnant Sister's Wedding

I gotta sing in my sister's wedding today, and I 'm not looking forward to it. I'm glad she is getting married, but I'm not too confident in my singing abilities anymore, due to 23 years of trashing my lungs by smoking cigs. Oh well, it'll be over in 7 hours and 20 minutes.

She's knocked up; after only knowing the guy for 3 months, AND she's 39, so she knows better. It makes a good story. I'm happy for her; they seem happy, I just hope they can keep the communication channels open and not all clogged like they tend to get in relationships.

Back to the job: this week was another bust. I didn't even open up the programs to learn them. I did; however, update my curriculum map and organize senior pictures and the entire student body's names list. Argh, that's the shit I hate about my job.

The boys are playing in the lab on their free period, and not working much on the presentations, except for Jason who is helping me redesign the entire paper for next year. But I can't blame them, we're always burnt out by last period. Plus, I've been walking a mile during that time -- even pushed it to a mile-and-a-half. We gotta get busy. Er, I gotta get busy.

Notebooks for all

Well, I decided to get notebooks for all the kids to help me get organized. Plain, white, 2" binders, designed to help me get an insight into my future.

Rachel gets one to help with the Awards banquet. Jared gets one to help with the basics of design. Greg gets one for an intro to InDesign and tips and tricks. Pi gets one to help with the intro to Photoshop, even though he has created it as a totally online tutorial. What a brain THAT kid has. And LaRae got one, to keep track of all the advertising letters we've used this year.

OK. So this week was normal, but instead of trying to put myself into a winter coma on the couch, I decided to start walking a mile. I feel better than usual because of it, and I'm glad I made one healthy decision.

I didn't really learn anything new related to my programs, but I don't think I'm as destitute as I think I am. . .I know the basics. . .but I still couldn't desktop publish my way out of a paper bag.

So, I pass and I fail. I'd give the week a "C".

Learn.

Learn.

That's what Jared said I needed to do in order to be able to survive without him.

Easy for that little shit to say, now isn't it? He's as sharp as a tack, smarter than hell, brilliant beyond words, and wise as an old man. . .all wrapped up in an undersized skinny little 18-year-old body of average height.

OK. I'm not going to use my depression as an excuse any more. I'm going to learn. Dammit.

I hate it when I absorb so much from kids. . .especially when they make a one-word statement that rings so true. I love that boy.

Weekend Update

Well, this week has been good and I actually learned something. I learned how to package the newspaper and how to burn it to take it to the printer. Voot! Well, I sorta knew how, but Greg helped me understand it WAY better. Now I just gotta get my new editors in on the process for next year.

But on deadline night, I didn't stay in the lab like I'd hoped to in order to learn InDesign. . .I felt like hanging out on the couch. . .one of those coma days I guess. The pea soup was there off and on, but for the most part I felt ok. The kids are learning it, though, which is the important part. Lauren showed up, who is a very talented freshmen, and she is my hope for editor-in-chief in the future.

So, I guess I passed and I failed. I'd give the week a C+.

Lists of my Brain

I have notebooks filled with lists. Lists of things to do and ideas and brainstorms and other general stuff. This proves that I am brilliant. Yet very little of the crap in the notebooks gets implemented. Why? Because I have a real bad case of depression. That's my excuse and I'm sticking to it.

Of course, I have a shrink that could show you my inches thick folder, since I've been seeing him since 1995ish. I'm a certifiable loon.

But this brilliance, combined with melancholy, is what makes me a rich character. I'm dynamic, not static. I'm up and down and around and sideways. I keep the lights on full blast most of the time, but I turn the lights down and try to put myself into a coma some days. I always have a song playing in my head, but some days I can't hear the words.

At least I know who I am. . .now. I didn't for a long time. This is one of the benefits of being in the 40-something category. But that's a different blog.

So, how is this relevant to my present journey, the story at hand? Because it's like I have a learning disability; a thick fog of fucking pea soup that coats my brain at times. This gets in the way of me absorbing information related to the programs I must learn. I have really smart mentors in Greg, Jared and Pi, but can I learn the stuff??? Holy cow I have anxiety about this. Because if I fail, I'll have to quit my job. I can't keep the publications department fresh and vibrant and growing if I don't know how to teach kids how to do the basics.

Harsh.

The Problem

OK. Now I shall reveal what is known as the conflict of this story. I can't do my job. I've been acting like I can, but I don't know the computer programs that I teach.

It's not like I haven't tried to learn them, nor is it like I'm not surrounded by a talented group of kids who know exactly what they are doing. I took a 3-hour graduate level course last summer to learn my programs, but I was the slowest pupil in class and therefore didn't learn a whole lot.

I can manage the kids fine, and we get along swell. But when it comes to training the next generation I don't know what I'm doing. I have a plan though, that the 3 aforementioned kids will create lessons to teach me how to teach others Indesign, Photoshop and the basics of design.

Here comes the story. I shall attempt to learn these programs over the next several months. I will concentrate hard and try to absorb the information presented. Crap. I'm doomed for failure. I will have to divulge that the emperor has no clothes. . .

The Background

A little background might be in order before I actually chronicle the journey. (That's really a pun, sort of, because the name of our paper is "The Cardinal Chronicle")

I leaped into this job during the summer of 2005, while licking my wounds from a failed attempt as a philanthropist. I was excited to get back to where I came from: journalism education. I had never actually taught it before, but I did have 20 years as an English teacher, a sexuality educator and a grants type person, so I wasn't exactly fresh off the boat either.

So, the first six months were great; it was a love fest between the kids and I. They were super talented and made me look good. I was fun loving and made them feel good. I won a "My favorite teacher award" in January, and TV crews were there to cover it. It was great. Then I crashed.

I'm also a depressive, which is part of the journey I will describe. These ups and downs you will read will more likely reflect my moods than the kids actual behavior. They are steady. But my sense of humour may put a spin on it that will be worth reading.

Meet Greg: the seriously talented third-year editor-in-chief. Meet Jared: the equally as talented graphic artist. Meet Pi: the most under-appreciated geek on the planet. We have a great time.

Failed Experiment

I thought I was posting some old photos here, but I failed.

I teach this shit for a living, but can't seem to upload the photos for this "Old Pics" segment. Go figure.

This oughta be a fun ride.

Thresholds

Thresholds is a theory I have that explains some of the choices we make in life, particularly during our teenage years. I plan to write a best selling novel about this concept, so don't steal it if you are reading this, like in "Throw Mamma from the Train."

"Oweeeeeeeeeeeennnnnnnnnnnn."

Anyway, this theory goes a little like this, in a soundbite: We all have to cross certain thresholds in life, some contain rituals, like a coming out celebration, and some we are formally educated for, like driving a car, and some we just fumble through, like losing our virginity. In all of these cases, however, we cannot go back once we cross the threshold, so we must carefully consider and prepare for these times in our lives.

See the relationship with teen pregnancy here? Once a sex educator, always a sex educator.

Wait for this book on shelves near you soon. Well, as soon as I get off my butt and write the sucker.

Why am I here?

Shit. Why did I start out with that question? Is the answer 42?

I'm new at this blogging crap, so excuse me if I use too many scattelogical references as I get started. And a Douglas Adams or two.

I am a veteran school teacher who has just re-entered the profession after a cushy day job. It is hard to do, this school teaching, and I'm hoping to make this blog a place where I can process this all, and maybe even publish it down the road when I become rich and famous.

Now that I've jinxed myself, I might as well lay it all on the line. I'm modeling this blog after one I admired a few years back: tardblog.com. It is now defunct, but it was full of shocking stories about public education in the special education classroom. My world is a bit less insane; it's a high school journalism classroom in the heartland.

Stay tuned as the editor-in-chiefs who know it all leave, and how the Adviser who knows nothing tries to survive without them.