Three Blind Mice

Eighth grade math classes are set up in blocks, so instead of leaving between 1st and 2nd periods, when that bell rings my students don't even hear it. This is the perfect set-up for end of the year movie days.

A few weeks ago, I subbed for a sixth grade class. 6 times I watched the first hour and 2 minutes of the 1 hour, 13 minute movie. And six times I nearly went nuts wondering what happens in the 11 minute climax and fall-of-action of The Incredibles. So I was kind of pumped when I learned that today I'd be able to finish The Blind Side with ease during the 8th grade block period.

First block was great. We laughed, we cried; we were all moved by Sandra's southern drawl and Tennessee hair. Second block, though... this time around, I know the jokes. I know the tear-jerkers. SJ's antics are less adorable, and the obnoxious child star qualities are more noticeable. I can't focus on Tim McGraw's surprising acting ability because now I've had time to wonder if it bothers Faith that he's making out with Sandy on-set. I hate to say it, but... it's even less exciting to see Tommy Tuberville walk onto the screen, in all his Dumbo-earred glory. God love that sweet man, he is adorable. But I digress.

Yes, there will be a third showing of the award-winning blockbuster. During third block, I probably won't even look up from perusing the various blogs I follow. I may even get crazy and do homework. It's better this way, really... It's hard to make eye contact with Sandy knowing that while she was filming the role her lifetime, her soul mate was hanging out and shacking up with a neo-Nazi. It's just too painful. Welcome to the Lonely Hearts Club, Sandy. We meet regularly in the tea room at the Heartbreak Hotel; you know the one. Leave Oscar at home, though.

Okay, let's be honest, I cannot possibly look away during the montage of SEC coaches. Sure, it's lost a little bit of it's luster, but in "our neck of the woods" these cameos are more exciting than any all-star cast. Valentine's Day, eat your heart out.

Hey is for Horses

Oh, hi. Were you talking to me? Sorry, amongst all the indiscriminate chatter in this classroom, I didn't distinguish your "Hey... hey... hey..." as aimed at me. You must've missed my note on the board... you know, where I wrote MISS HAYS in giant bubble letters. I understand that the blaring green and polka dots blend in to the plain white background. Honest mistake.

What's that? Another chorus of "hey's"? Sure, it sounds like my last name, but there's no Miss proceeding it.

Furthermore, "Teacher" will not suffice.

Let me lay it down for you a la Janet Jackson-- not that you'd get this cultural reference: My name's not Teacher, it's Lindsey; Miss Hays if you're a student.

Get it straight.

Non-Athlete

I have never pursued a career in teaching because, as much as I love English and History, I have never been sure that I could teach the same books every year for 25 years, over and over again. That's one of the things I love about subbing: I've been a librarian, a Math teacher, a band director, a social studies teacher... and today... today I was a PE coach for 3rd thru 5th graders.

Now, let me tell you this: I didn't like PE when I was IN elementary school, and my experience today confirmed that it is still not the place for me. I watched in horror as the 4th graders got into push-up position and told to stay there as long as they could. My mind reeled as I pictured myself in that same position so many years ago, terrified that I might go down sooner than the fat kid (yeah, that's right, I'm not feeling politically correct today). And when the awkward, early developing fifth grade girls came up to me and asked to go/escape to the bathroom, I looked knowingly into their eyes and fought the urge to tell them to stay as long as they pleased.

And it's absolutely true that childhood obesity is a problem. I observed today that there are more overweight children than "normal-sized," but even the urge to keep them healthy hardly combatted my need to shelter them from being the last person picked for kickball, the first person pegged in dodgeball. I watched one volleyball team, stacked with kids that have been playing club ball since they cut their teeth, dominate a team of what we'll call Lindseys. I wanted to say, "Hey girls, don't sweat it, there's a team out there with your name on it, and you get to wear a cute uniform with matching ribbon!"

That said, I would've fought you tooth and nail in high school that cheerleading is a sport. And I still stand firm that cheerleaders work hard, very hard. I lived and breathed for it. But we Wildcat Cheerios were hardly having a tough time deciding between cleats and pom-poms. And there's rarely a swing and miss when you're throwing your best friend up in a basket toss and catching her in a cradle.

This took an unexpected turn into my thoughts on cheering... but the moral of the story is: I don't care for sports where balls fly at my head (i.e. anything outside of cheering, golf, swimming...), and my heart goes out to all the little non-athletes out there. Press on, kiddos. You only have a few more years before you can opt out of those pesky phys ed classes.

Some Days You're a Scarlett

... and today's one of those days. Today, everything that has crossed my path has stressed me out, and I can't count how many times I've thought to myself, "I won't think about that today; I'll think about it tomorrow."

Melanie Hamilton Wilkes is an inspiration... because she's selfless and kind and genuine. But today, I was Katie Scarlett O'Hara. Today, my mind was wrapped around one thing and one thing only: me. And if I wasn't master of ceremonies, there was a problem. It was just one of those days where I felt out of control of everything, and, if you know me, that's a crisis.

Even at the gym I felt like Scarlett. She's so fiery and vengeful, and I felt like I was running as if someone was chasing me. I couldn't slow down, and I didn't even realize how hard I was running until I realized I had run a mile in under 10 minutes (now, I know, to some like my cousin Austin, that's sluggish... but I'm not the kind of girl that gets in a hurry). And while E and I did yoga with Rosemary and the Geriatric Gang, my body was practically vibrating with tension. Usually I love the cool down, where I almost always fall asleep, but today I could hardly sit still and Rosemary's "InHAY-ul" and "exHAY-ul" was especially irritating.

Maybe it's just finals. In one class-- Intro to Research, which if possible is even more painful than it sounds-- we've had ONE assignment the entire semester, worth a mere 5 points. This week, finals week, in that ONE class, I have had an 8-page research article analysis, a 2-page article critique essay, a 6-page final, and a research proposal that must encompass 4 article reviews and suggestions for methods and participants for further research. Did I lose you? Welcome to the club.

Last night I had my first grad school final ever, but only after taping my last counseling session THREE times. The first twenty minute session was great, but-- OOPS!-- the cameras malfunctioned. Take 2. Oops again. Take 3 finally took, but I got a phone call at 9:30 Monday night saying that they couldn't move the tape from the camera to the computer. Finally, at 9 last night, they got the tape fixed and onto a DVR for me... except the transcription of the tape was due yesterday at 5:45 pm. Luckily, my professor is giving me an extension since I couldn't control the circumstances... BUT, it's just one more thing to do this week.

And in my last class, I have a quiz, a final, and a final project (which I must enlist a high school student to help me with, as it calls for me to assess a student) due this week.

No big deal. [sarcasm]

Maybe one day I'll be Mellie Wilkes... but not today. And tomorrow's not looking good either. Besides, I need a Rhett in my life. Ashley looks good on paper, but as E and my mom have told me lately in regard to other men, I would walk all over Ashley Wilkes. So yes, Rhett Butler, come and get me. I will gladly accept your lavish gifts and ridiculous mansion; sure, we'll butt heads from time to time. You're a man's man, and I've got a little Irish in me. But we'll make it work because we're the same, you and I.

Can you tell we watched Gone with the Wind this weekend? Perhaps I should devote this nervous energy to school work... Quittin' time!

brewdogs and misconceptions.

I apologize for my frequent blogs when I'm working, but sometimes the behaviors of my students are such that they must be reported. Immediately.

For instance, today we watched an Earth Day video. Lots of fun facts were presented, like that the average American drinks 43,310 cans of soda in their lifetime (that's 3000 lbs of weight over your lifetime, by the way). Another fun fact: the average American drinks 13,ooo-something beers in their life [obviously the "average American" is a UA frat star]. One of my male freshman students immediately exclaims, "My new goal in life is to drink 13,000 beers!" Whoa, kid, dream big. Sadly, he was serious.

In response, one of my female students, weighing in at approximately 98 lbs, explains to the classroom that she can drink 30 beers in one sitting ("I have a really high tolerance," she informed us). Listen, kids, I know that your sweet little freshman minds love the idea of pounding brewdogs all night long, but 30 beers? My friends love beer. Love it. With the exception of Nan and Erica, most of my friends weigh in at about 250, 6'2+. These gentle giants couldn't drink 30 beers in one sitting if they wanted to, and they don't want to. And neither do you. Because you would DIE.

Later, another male student got to story telling: tall tales, specifically. This young man filled our time with stories of his A-Day adventures and all the college girls' numbers he got. Now, tell the truth. You didn't get a single number, did you? Go on, grin and change the subject.

In other news, a student was found in the bathroom, supposedly with locked jaw and darting eyes, after a student gave her a mystery pill. One of my students explained to me that she had had an allergic reaction because of the interaction between the mystery pill (identified as Tylenol), two Ibuprofen, and her birth control. An allergic reaction to Tylenol? Sounds intense for an OTC drug. It's because she takes birth control, I was informed. Oh yeah, I've heard how birth control and head ache relief can be a deadly combination. But, real talk, what did you take?

Today are cheerleading try outs. I'm going to go with E, and I've promised myself that I won't cry.

The Birth of the Bard

For as long as I can remember, I've had what you might call a "crush" on William Shakespeare. Really, it's England and that time period that does it for me. On a trip to Barnes & Noble, anything with Billy Shakespeare's face or Elizabeth I's likeness draws my attention, and Henry VII (although a generation prior) is my specialty. I was fortunate enough to visit Stratford-Upon-Avon, home of the Bard, one summer, and I walked around with my mouth hung open. The gardens, the artifacts, the funny anecdotes the tour guide told... it was almost too much.

Maybe it's the pirate beard and bald head that gets me...

Okay, Hollywood's version (in the form of Geoffrey Rush) is a teensy bit hotter.

I digress.

Today is the Bard's birthday; that is, what is commonly believed to be Bill's birthday. So, to commemorate this literary giant, I thought I'd give you all a healthy dose of Shakespeare quotes, some common phrase and others more obscure. And who doesn't love a good quote?

Absence from those we love is self from self - a deadly banishment.

Be not afraid of greatness: some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them.

Cowards die many times before their deaths; the valiant never taste of death but once.

Expectation is the root of all heartache.

False face must hide what the false heart doth know.

I wasted time, and now doth time waste me.

Love is not love that alters when it alteration finds.

A Cautionary Tale.

I labeled this blog as such because it is just that: what you're about to read may be just the thing to discourage you from ever reproducing should your offspring encounter or, God fordbid, become one of these creatures one day. These are just a few quotes from Wonderland (which is what I will now and forever refer to the public school system as).

On dating:
Student A: "Yeah, Tyler's sweet and all, but Anthony's..."
Student B: "Giving it to you?"
Student A just grins and rolls her eyes.
Ah, yes, young love blossoming before my eyes.

On body art:
"I'm definitely getting a tramp stamp."
Young lady, those of us who refer to as a 'tramp stamp' do so in disdain. If you are culturally aware enough to know that it is in fact called such, take note and DON'T DO IT. Think about it: Tramp. Stamp.

On extracurricular activity:
"Dude, he got caught selling weed at church. At church!"
Nope, you read that wrong, because for a second you thought this was said in disgust or disappointment. But no; it was in fact in awe.

On lifestyle preference:
"Do you prefer gay, queer, or bi? What if I called you a fag?"
When I was in 9th grade-- that's right, this is a 14 year old we speak of-- I did not know a single person of the "alternative lifestyle." Sure, there was speculation, but if anyone had hopped out of their closet, I was oblivious to it. Worry not, progress marches on at GHS.

On discipline:
"You was scared for a minute, weren't you? Thought I was gonna put these hands on you, didn't ya? They call me the body snatcher 'cause I'll snatch you up by the neck."
The eagerness to discipline each other oftentimes makes my job much easier. Reprimand my misbehaving class? Nah, why bother when their neighbor is about to snatch them up by the neck?

On race and ethnicity:
[upon discovering that a text book has been chewed on]
"Did you get hungry, Hope?"
"What? Is that because I'm black?"
Thank you for your racial commentary, ninth graders. I'm sure that's exactly what he was insinuating; you are extremely insightful.

On scheduling:
"Is this our assignment? I don't have time for all that."
Oh, do you not? I'm sorry, did you have something else going on 7th period? Mani/pedi, perhaps? Please, by all means, don't let your assignments get in your way. I'm sure texting under your desk is taxing enough, so just take the afternoon off.

On ambition:
"I'm gonna be a PE teacher so I can play warball everyday."
Dream big! Shoot for the stars!

And to top off my adventure, I was only asked once why on Earth Evan and I weren't engaged yet. Isn't news supposed to travel fast in a small town?

Never a dull day. Never Never. Ooooh... Never Never Land or Wonderland?