And So it Begins...

For those of you who have been keeping up with my months long journey to alternative certification, I just wanted to give an update. Yesterday I started what will be a school-year long internship, 24 hours a week (minimum), which at this point looks like three full school days (Mon/Wed/Fri). I'm getting my certification in secondary English, while taking online classes towards a master's degree in education. It's a legit brick and mortar school here in Colorado, but they're kind and allow you to take the classes online so that you can do a post-bacc certification from anywhere in the world. Plus, a lot of post-bacc certification courses have you take random education classes, and it's nice that the education classes I am taking are going towards something instead of just a clap on the back and a check mark for completion.**

Although I don't plan on saying anything bad about the program or the students or the school or any of that, I will still, for obvious reasons, not share the name of the school in which I am interning. The most I will say is that I purposefully chose a Title I school because of my convictions regarding education inequality in America. I would feel like a chump if I cried all over the pages of "Savage Inequalities", kept up with all  the lawsuits against school districts in Texas and Colorado, and then blithely signed up to student teach at some high end fancy school attended by angel babies filled with SAT words, a fierce love for all things learning, and showered in $$$. I have more than one mentor teacher in the English department, which is neat because I get exposure to every grade level in high school, plus every class from AP English to intervention classes. I'm also assisting in the drama department, and this week we have auditions. It's nice to get thrown right into the mix of things. Classes are going well- my first week's assignments all came back A's- and I'm really enjoying the literature they are giving us. I'm also doing my nerd thang and supplementing all of  this with random books on education from the library. Any suggestions for me?

The only womp womp of all of this is my broken foot. Being in the classroom will be a lot better when I'm not clicking around on awkward crutches. Seriously, awkward like whoa. Thoughts on crutches, which I shared on FB, I shall now share here as well:

For a person with excellent balance, good coordination, and a strong upper body, I'm not really sure why I'm such a flailing baby giraffe on my crutches...also, since I've never broken anything/had a cast/had crutches I have to say that my childhood jealousy of those with crutches was totally stupid. Crutches are not like arm pit stilts, contrary to my fantasies of their fun potential as a 9 year old...they're just awkward and hurt my hands.

Unrelated- our tomato plants are going crazy and tonight it's caprese salads for dinner- heirloom tomatoes and basil from our garden, plus balsamic vinegar from the farmers' market. I'm watching Bobby pick tomatoes from the dining room window, and afterwards we're off to the grocery store to see if they have their  local goat cheese mozzarella in stock. If not, I can handle that being the biggest problem of my day.

 **I am not knocking those who took that route, I'm just saying, either way I have to pay for those classes and do the work, so ending up with a degree for taking them makes me a happy cat.

Movin' On

ETA: The captions turned out to be absurdly small, but there are some hyper links within them if you care to mosey around in my internet past. I'm also far too lazy and tired (see closing statement) to change anything about this post other than tacking on this very long and italicized disclaimer. Good night!

Before stepping into the future with smart phones I cleaned out the random, super old pictures on my phone that dated back to 2009. Here are a few in no particular order, chosen for no particular reason.

2010- Pig rocking chair picture taken for my good friend, Jess. She loooooves pigs.

2011- Bathroom art at New Belgium Brewery

2010- A classy wall decoration- yours for a steal at the local thrift store!

Early 2010- It snowed A LOT in Texas that winter

2009- I get all my nutritional advice from gas pump placards at convenience stores. Solid.

2009- Kate works at a nursery, and I told her about how my father used to do this with his construction boots. Officially creeped me out just as much at the age of 26 as it did at the age of 6.

2009- Binkus, cat of wonders.

Christmas 2010- You know you're in a sketch store when they have anti-theft tags on the baskets.

2010- A random bar in Brownwood, right before we moved up to Colorado

2010- Also right before we moved up to Colorado- this child is now 14 months old. He was a few days old here.

2009- Front porch of Jess' apartment in Hollywood, where I lived while writing my thesis.

2009- Halloween shopping. This sums up why I love Jess so much. We ended up going with these costumes.

2009- Last night in Hollywood before returning home to Texas to walk for graduate school.

2010- Bobby and I pet sat the creepiest cat in the universe. This picture says it all.

2009- My contribution to a Christmas potluck.

2010- My favorite gauntlets and a sparkle doughnut.

 I have a sore throat, so now it's bed time. Oh, sweet delicious bed time.

Isn't it Ironic?

I shared this on FB as a joke, and I wanted to put it here too. Behold, the most hipster 4th of July photo ever. Sparkler mustache, scrunchy face, vintage filter, put a bird on it. Done.

You can't see it, but I'm wearing some cute vintage shoes with my toes together, and my lap is totally.filled.to.overflowing. with red velvet cupcakes and Polaroid cameras. 

Return of the Mack

I was peepin' these fine ladies at the Denver capitol. Mmmmm, high waisted pants. So. Hot.

I'm feeling good enough, after yesterday's testing debacle, to make stupid jokes. I guess that's a sign I'm on the upswing. I randomly woke up at 6:20 this morning, so I took a long bath while reading a book, uploaded pictures to FB from our Peru trip (oh man, I still have to put those on here too...), and did some scattershot internet surfing/news reading. I told myself I would fully, unequivocally embrace a lazy Sunday without guilt, but I still managed to pick up the house, do the dishes, and run an errand. But, I did skip yoga, and instead of drinking my usual smoothie for breakfast I had an egg croissant + tater tots and a Coke at Sonic this morning with Bobby. We ate in the car, laughing and being silly, communicating in a kind of shorthand to reference various inside jokes that I'm sure only we would find funny. And the carhop was roller skating, a fact that contributed perfectly to the Sonic-breakfast-at-10:30 a.m. ambiance.

I'm going to try to stop asking poor Bobby, over and over and over, "Do you think I passed the test????". Because I don't get the results until April 25th, and that's a long time to pester someone with flatly unanswerable questions (oh, unanswerable questions you say! kind of like everything on the exam....).  WAIT, no, I'm trying to be positive! So here's some positive- in two weeks from tomorrow my friend Arielle flies in from New York, and then we're road tripping to Texas, where I'll spend two weeks bouncing around between Dallas/Austin/Brownwood/San Antonio/Padre Island, hitting up two birthdays and a wedding. Now that's some positive.

Let's go, summer. Even if, thanks to the cruelty of poorly written and pointless exams, you include two summer school classes crammed into one month so that I can start grad school in August. Yes, even if.

Mummy Bags, or, Always Be Prepared

The first time Bobby and I camped together was in Amarillo, TX on a very cold night. That kicked off a 3 week long Western U.S. road trip that involved another camping night in Moab, UT. Since we've been in Colorado, we've camped in Rocky Mountain National Park and Wind Cave National Park in South Dakota. The point is, we like to camp, and we plan on doing a lot of it this summer- this weekend in fact, when our friends come into town, we're heading out to do just that! But another point is that Bobby and I have been using copious piles of blankets and old Army Surplus Store sleeping bags, coupled with too-short sleeping pads. The result is that we're often a bit cold, and we're always packing mounds of sleeping accessories that don't lend themselves well to hiking out in the woods and camping in the back country.

After every trip, Bobby mentions getting new sleeping bags. Last week, he called me from REI giddy over his new purchase- a clearanced mummy bag sleeping bag that was temperature rated to around 30 degrees. When he got home, he couldn't wait to show me. I don't know if it's just me, but I can't stop laughing anytime I see these pictures...

 I think you understand now why it's called a mummy bag...

 This. Picture. Every. Time. The first time I saw it I just laughed and laughed. I don't know why it seems so absurd to me.

Since I needed a sleeping bag as well, we went back the next night to take advantage of the clearance. I had to "try on" the mummy bags since they're more fitted than a regular sleeping bag. I ended up with the same one as Bobby, just the women's version. My picture isn't nearly as ridiculous...

 I dunno, maybe it is...

These things are fun to inch worm around in. They're a bit hard to get out of, but that's what makes them so warm. I'm excited to try them out this weekend when Karin and Hermes come in. We're camping up in the Poudre Canyon, which is only a half hour drive from our house. Once again, I love living in Colorado.

Change of Plans, Change of Clothes

When we were planning on visiting Egypt and Jordan, I was planning on packing long dresses and loose pants, long sleeved, loose shirts, and a few scarves to cover my head. Now that we're going somewhere tropical involving a lot of water, the packing is going to go a bit differently. Bobby needs swim trunks, I need some board shorts, and we're trying to scramble to get them before we leave tomorrow morning. I'm not the biggest fan of shopping in general, but swim suits are such a hassle to get anyway. Ideally I'd get board shorts and a rash guard- the t-shirt swim top you see fair people or surfers wearing- but so far, in snowy, cold Colorado in February, those are understandably not easy to come by. The last time I ventured into the land of summer clothes was back in 2009, looking for board shorts and swim tops...

I tried board shorts on over shorts (I despise dressing rooms). I also despise shorts- other than that plaid pair, I never wear them and don't own any.
And when I couldn't find a swim top, I gave up, tried on stupid hats, and acted like a fool for my friend's boyfriend, who was newly in America for the first time and was accompanying me on this ill fated trip.

I guess I'm trying to say, I'm not good at this. We're hitting up Kohl's tonight since Bobby has been going to the hot tub all summer in gym shorts, and fingers crossed I can find some sort of swimming outfit conducive to being active and snorkeling/swimming/hiking around islands.

Paperwork

The world map above our dining room table.

In the next few months Bobby and I are going to be traveling to Jordan and Egypt with his parents, his sister, and his brother-in-law. As a person with an irrational fear of flying, the 12 total flights involved over a two week period kind of makes me want to dissolve into a puddle of terror. I've flown so many times in my life-my first flight I was maybe 2, I flew alone from California to Texas when I was 7, my mother worked for an airline and we flew every month, I've taken long trans-Pacific flights to Japan and back... and I still experience overwhelming anxiety and fear every damn time I have to get on a plane. Literally, as the plane door is closing I'm actually thinking "Welp, I had a nice life. Guess I'm ok with dying". As though I'm on some sort of deathtrap, instead of taking part in the safest form of transportation on the planet. It's ridiculous.

I look with longing and envy at the children who only know they don't like sitting in their chairs, and want to play, who aren't obsessing over every bump and sound. I despise the cavalier teens, burrowed into their seats in hoodies, i-pod earbuds firmly in place, so laid back and bored and just... whatever. Or the cool and collected business men and women in their suits, frantically typing on their laptops. They could be in their office for all it mattered. And then there's me- I'm gripping my armrest and sweating profusely, trying to calm my breath and not cry. Once we take off and we've been in the air for a bit, I get exhausted from being terrified and then I'm just stressed- barring a spike in anxiety accompanying any turbulence or strange sounds. And when we start to descend? I start cheering inside, so ready to land. When we hit the ground without exploding, I truly feel as though I've been given a new lease on life, as though I've been spared- "I made it!" I exclaim inside my head. So unbelievably stupid.

So on a lazy Saturday Bobby and I got all of our visa paperwork filled out, with me commenting every few lines "we are going to die", to which he would respond "no we're not". I had a weird mix of being excited to be going to Egypt and Jordan, and dreading the way in which we have to go there. Getting visa pictures at Walgreen's and writing my passport number over and over again in black ink really made it seem very real. I think I need to start preparing for this trip. I really want to be that person who is cool with flying. I found a website with all these little exercises and readings to help with fear of flying, and I am totally going to get a doctor to write me some sort of prescription that will calm my crazy ass down. If I'm going to be plummeting out of the sky to an inevitable death, I wouldn't mind being a bit out of it, you know? For the long haul from Dallas to Germany I'm thinking I might take Ambien and just sleep through it. Hopefully I'm not one of those people who eats in their sleep or doesn't fall asleep and then acts insane... although, at least I won't know what's going on, so, again, still serving its purpose.

Me, happy to be done with paperwork, probably right before I declared our inevitable death for the umpteenth time.

Bobby, smiling, probably right after assuring me for the umpteenth time that our deaths are not inevitable. I really don't know how he puts up with it.

Holdovers

I had an epically bad break-up a few years back. Epically bad not because of the break-up in and of itself, but because of the nuclear fallout of bullshit, lies, and rumors that swirled around it for about two years after, culminating in a grand explosion of family and relationship drama with a storyline twist and surprise ending that could rival the best soap operas and cheesiest reality shows. The final twist did not, at all, involve me, but everyone assumed it did- and actually assumed I was somehow the twisted architect of all of it. Yeah. Maybe someday I'll tell you all about it. It's hilarious, in hindsight. Anyway, while it's all cleaned up and neat and tidy now, there is one lingering vestige of that time that remains...

Coupons.

Yeah, I know, that makes no sense, right? Here's the deal. The ex's oldest sister- whom I had never been close with, but whom I respected for being what seemed like a super mom- was into coupon shopping. Like, the CVS game I get things for free and get paid to shop I'm a master of home finances kind of coupon shopper. And the second oldest sister, with whom I was, at one time pre-nuclear fallout, quite close, introduced me to the coupon skills of the oldest. This overlapped, about a year later, with the epic storyline twist explosive ending of my relationships with everyone in their family, save one of my still closest friends, the youngest sister. But... that oldest sister? She writes a great coupon blog ya'll. So, I still check it. At first, I felt weird. But it's a public blog, intended for public use, so I say, whatever. I'm also lazy and don't want to clutter up my own blog roll, so I just use her links to other sites for more said coupon deals. Chick knows her shit, I gotta give her that. In fact, when I've taught coupon gaming to others, I've specifically recommended her blog because it rocks. I'm pretty sure oldest sister hates my guts, but I still respect her skills in this area. So, I don't feel bad for reading it. Should I? Is that weird?

(Oh, and of course now you all know I'm one of those people with the coupons...hope you don't think less of me.)

Toy Story

Bobby and I went to a popular local toy store when his friends were in town, and we played like kids. It's one of those old fashioned down town toy stores that has wooden toys, hand sewn dollies and stuffed animals, a huge picture book section, whimsical, weird kids' accessories, and a second floor loft consisting of an art area and a play area. We weren't the only adults there who were overly excited about how rad it all was. We probably were the only people taking stupid pictures though...


Soo.... this was the creepy window display. A headless girl mannequin pushing a cart in front of a wall of real toast. Not sure if that would be *my* first choice to really draw in the kiddies, but hey, I guess they were really pushing that whole "whimsical" thing.

The view of the main walkway of the store from the loft. Wonderland.

Bobby joined me in the loft, and we found this sweet astronaut helmet.

I was method acting here, imagining what I'd look like if I was seeing the earth as a shiny blue marble from space. Blank faced shock people.

We're vegetarians, so we're not quite sure how the whole hunting thing works. We did our best with what we had to work with.

Dr. Bobby

My irrational fears of being attacked by bears are justified!

And then alligators!

I wish it was this happy in real life.

This sow had magnetic teats, and the piglets had magnetic mouths.

Pig love continues. Doesn't Leviticus have something to say about all of this?!

I remember these license plates being popular when I was a little kid. I laugh out loud every single time I see this.

Shout out to my good friend Abraham, who's currently living in Dubai. Miss you! I apologize in advance if the next picture offends anyone...


Spell it right! Just as I remember these being around since childhood, I also remember never being able to find Courtney without a "U". Some things never change :)

I'm Ridiculous

One of the most wonderful things about Colorado is how beautiful it is. People are biking and hiking and walking and doing all sorts of things that don't involve sitting on a couch in front of the warm glow of a TV for hours a day. One of the things I was most looking forward to was hiking. In fact, when Bobby and I went to Barnes and Noble to check out the Nook, I was thrilled to find a little handbook to 50 different hiking trails. We purchase it, and as we're walking out to the car I say to Bobby "we should go on a different hike every weekend!".

Fast forward a day or two later, when I'm reading the book more in depth. And, I know this will sound insane- note the title of this post, I am AWARE I am RIDICULOUS- but a lot of the hikes note mountain lions, black bears, and rattlesnakes.


...


...


So, now I have a totally irrational (to add to insane and ridiculous) fear of getting attacked by a black bear.

...

...

I know. It's totally all of the adjectives I've already used. But it's there. What is the deal with me and obsessing over bad things that have almost zero chance of happening? I mean, I'm afraid of getting attacked by a BEAR. On hiking trails that, to quote the book "are often full by mid morning. If you arrive and the PARKING LOT is FULL, the trail is too full". Yes, the PARKING LOT at the trailhead is frequently overflowing. And I'm acting like I'm Into the Wild'ing it and setting off into an Canadian wilderness. Which, incidentally, is where 70% of the 13 fatal bear attacks since 2000 have occurred.

What?

Are you REALLY surprised I looked up bear fatality statistics?

Anyway, I know I'm being an asshole, so we're still on for the hiking. Bears and silly fears be damned.

Propositioning Jobs

I spent a considerable amount of time last evening editing and re-writing my resume. I've managed to find a few non-profit management type jobs that excited me, maybe my resume will excite at least one of them as well. It's hard applying for jobs in this internet age. It's like online dating. I peruse their profiles, think about if I want to be with them, and then agonize over the message/resume I will send, hoping it catches their eye and makes them want to meet up and get to know me better. Hopefully that first meeting will convince them we're perfect for each other, and they will confess they don't know how they lived without me.

I snagged Puppy Bob that way, here's hoping for another success!**

**Of course Bobby is better than a job. I just had to continue my ridiculous metaphor. Thank you for understanding.

A Heads Up Would Have Been Neat

I have never worked in a building with a parking garage. Dallas has very little use for them, in general.

My new schedule has me at the veeeeeeeeeeeeeeery last shift. I'm literally walking down the halls in the dark, waiting for elevators with the lobby illuminated only by the button I pressed to summon them, etc. There are security guards *everywhere* and *everything* is filmed, but it's still total creepsaucemcghee.com kind of shit.

Anyway, I'm trying to exit the parking garage. I go to my normal exit. Both East and West are gated, with huge imposing STOP signs posted across them covering the whole gate. I panic, back up, turn around, and go to another exit. This one is a one lane exit I have never used before, it goes up a hill and around an unknown corner. I swipe my badge to get out, turn the corner- another gate! EGADS I AM LE TRAPPED IN THE UNDERGROUND OH NOES! So, I try to back out, but the machine won't take my card. So I'm stuck between the little toll bridge divider and the gate of perceived impenetrability. Why "perceived" you ask? Oh, you know, because I freaked out, called my friend and co-worker Ryan, said "I'm trapped underground!!" then called the security guard, who calmly informed me "ma'am, if you just pull up reaaaaaaaaally close, it will automatically open".

...


...

Let me just say, for the record, it would have been nice to have been informed. I had a mini heart attack thinking of how stupid I was to get stuck, and instead, I was stupid for thinking I *was* stuck.

Yeah.

Anyway.

Ok. Good night. Oh, everything else with work is awesome. Other than unexpected and deceptively foreboding gates. Everything else.

An Update

I'm finally done with training and will be starting my real schedule this Monday! My first week on the floor includes 5 hours of mandatory overtime because it's month end, but my hourly rate at time and a half makes me very, very happy so I'm ok with that :)

In other news I'm seriously considering trying this whole dumpster diving thing, as I live directly in between a Whole Foods and a Central Market, both about two blocks from me in opposite directions. I'll let you know if I step on a syringe and/or get stuck in a dumpster or arrested for trespassing.

Today I'm working out, taking a long shower, and then cashing in my massage gift certificate that has been waiting for me, patiently, since I received it...at Christmas. It's time.

Date Night

Hi there! Remember me?The girl who did nothing but finals and work for three straight weeks, interspersed with fast food runs and brief spells of fitful sleep, often in clothes worn on repeat? Well if you didn't believe me the proof is all over my bedroom, and spilling out of my closets. It's all over my car, and in the trunk and in the floorboards. It's in my bathroom, primarily colonizing the sink/toilet/bathtub. It's in my overflowing laundry baskets. It's in the stack of mail that is a good 4 inches thick, waterfalling over the edge of my desk and pooling in a papery puddle next to the shredder covered in dust- yes, I was that busy. So, my apartment and I have a Friday night date- I'll be wearing my 1950's housewife getup, but I'll skip the Valium. Gotta bring my A game to this mess.

Have a good weekend kittens. I'll catch up with you on Saturday.

Question

Ok, so I was joking about getting drunk and engaging in unwholesome proclivities for drugs with bums....

but...

after that 7-Up, I really needed to use the restroom. So I sauntered over to the portable toilets. But guys, it was dark. And there were no lights. Which meant that the DMA would have been forcing me to lift up my skirt and sit over a hole in a dirty port-a-potty in the pitch black. I tried, really I did, but when i shut the door I could see nothing, and even though it's not *technically* a drain, more like a huge receptacle beneath the seat, I started having flashbacks to "It" (the book, which I read in the 4th grade, thanks parents, not the movie). I couldn't do it. I'll wait to get home.

So, we walk back to the train and I suddenly realize there is no way I can make it home. And of course because downtown is filled with bums none of the businesses have public restrooms. I scanned frantically, and saw a big landscaped area of trees and bushy grass. Walking around for further inspection I saw two small but deep fountains behind it that had been drained. After walking back to the platform, I could see that none of this propitious situation was visible to the street.

Now don't judge me for this next part. I'm pretty sure you know where this story is going anyway, but in the interest of being coy I'll couch the following in hypotheticals. But it's all true.

I may or may not have then enlisted Jennifer to be my lookout. I possibly then crawled into said drained fountain. At that point I may or may not have given one last furtive glance for onlookers before nonchalantly squatting down and peeing while pretending to be having a totally casual conversation that I just happened to want to have while crouching in a dark and empty fountain. Jennifer may have then offered a sheet of the Dallas Observer to assist me at the end, but I refused. This could have been on the grounds that I didn't want to litter, but I also didn't want to carry a crumpled up piece of newsprint covered in my urine to the trash. It was a classic ethical dilemma- the former would have filled me with guilt, the latter was just gross. So I sacrificed. I did a little shake, adjusted my clothes, and hopped out of the fountain like nothing had happened.

So, to the question. If a security camera catches me urinating in a public fountain downtown, can I be charged with something?

Congratulations

Check the title of this post- they're in order. Congratulations that is. In sum, congratulations are in order.

Who is going to partake of this order of fresh from the kitchen congratulations? KARIN! Because she just landed herself an awesome job (and let me just take the time to say that she's making the exact same amount as I was making when I returned home from Japan. Did I mention she's 5 years younger than me? And I had a college degree when I came home? I'm trying to say she rocks, if you haven't gotten the memo yet).


Yay Karin! The next time I see you, I'm going to sing that song that goes "moo-oo-vin on U-up! To tha' East Side!". Because even though you're not actually moving anywhere physically, I want to tell you how well you're doing, so that then you'll buy me dinner.. I mean, you'll know how proud I am of you.

:)


P.S.- I thought this picture looked like me singing to you. And it looks like you're listening in awe at how beautiful that singing is. Even though neither of those things are true.