Students' Perspective

Today in my ED 101 class, there was a panel made up of five kids from various school sites around the city.  Two of them were in middle school and three were in high school.  The first hour of class, my professor asked questions which the students took turns answering.  The last half hour was opened up to our questions.  Though I found some of my professor's questions and the students' answers useful, I think it would have been more helpful if the whole time had been spent working through our questions, since those were the ones whose answers I found most helpful.  Here are some interesting points gathered at the panel:

Grading/Homework - it helps to have homework worth a bigger percentage of the final grade, since test and quiz grades might not necessarily demonstrate student effort.  This thinking kind of goes along with what I did last year; homework counted for about a third of the grade, and it only mattered whether the student completed the assignment or not.  The students also mentioned that it's helpful for homework to be useful and for the students to really be able to see the connection between the assignment and what they're working on in class. In short, busy work is useless.

Expectations - It's *very* important to have clear, understandable expectations for each and every assignment.  If not, make sure that students understand why they got the grade they did.  It's important that kids understand what they're being graded on before they get an assignment.

General Advice - Be outgoing!  Don't be hesitant, just go for it!  Make sure you're energetic.  Confidence is a big thing.  Look like you know what you're talking about so that students take you seriously (don't become "fodder for teenagers").  Relate to students and pay attention to them.  Most importantly, try your best!

So, interesting things to think about!  And tomorrow, I'll be shadowing a student for my "Experiencing a Student's Day" paper, so THAT should be pretty interesting, too!

ciao

Thoughts

I may or may not be trying to revive this little space here. I like the idea of a blog and of blogging quite a bit, but keeping it up is sometimes so difficult, especially when I'm not even sure of readership. But I guess that part shouldn't really matter, and I should just be doing this for me. So many interesting things are happening to me, I feel like I should preserve them somehow, in a medium that is more lasting than pen and paper. We'll see...

ciao

In which I post interesting videos I've watched recently

All having to do with Education, of course...

Changing Paradigms

A Call to Reinvent Liberal Arts Education

ciao

Just Keep Swimming

I have been repeating this phrase to myself quite a bit this week, meaning it in both the literal and figurative sense. I'll explain the literal first since it's rather easier to explain.

So, this week was my first week as a member of the Cambridge Masters Swim Club (CMSC). I'd been really missing swimming on a real team and didn't really have the opportunity to do so in the suburbs. Now that I live in Somerville, however, I have easy access to the city's many Masters clubs. I chose CMSC because they practice at Harvard University, and it's fairly easy for me to get there from Tufts and from my apartment. So, on Tuesday, I went to my first practice. It was pretty brutal. My body was definitely telling me that I hadn't been in the water seriously in two years. Despite the pain, I had a great time. I joined with a friend of mine, and we both already knew someone on the team, so it wasn't too difficult to meet people. And the feeling of working hard alongside other people is just so great! I'd really missed that. And I felt like I was getting better yesterday, so that was heartening. I just have to keep swimming!

So, figuratively. I started class at Tufts this week. Originally, I was signed up to take a Latin class and an intro psych class (which is a requirement for the degree). They were both on Tuesdays and Thursdays, the Latin class at 9am and the psych class at 1pm. So on Tuesday, I headed over to the Classics department, ready for class. It was totally empty, so I went online to double check the location of the class. Of course, it had been changed at the last second. I found out where the class was now located and ran over to that building. The classroom, however, was full of kids taking some art and architecture class. Panicking now at 9:05, I ran back to the Classics department, only to find it still empty. I had absolutely no idea what to do, so I just went back to the building the class was supposed to be in. Very luckily, I saw the professor wandering around looking as lost I was. We chatted for a while about the people who had commandeered our room then she said, "Well, it doesn't really matter anyway, because there are only two people registered for this class and I need six to run the class. And you're the only one here anyway. So I guess the class is canceled." She handed me what would have been the syllabus and headed back to her office, leaving me totally dumbstruck.

I then entered another state of panic. I'd been counting on taking this Latin class, actually had been looking forward to it. I had no idea if I needed to take two classes this summer or not and wasn't sure I could get into any other classes if I wanted to anyway. And the other classes that I was interested in were all in the evening, which I very expressly did NOT want to do during my first session of class. I was feeling super frustrated and sent off a few very panicked e-mails to me advisors. Resigned to not getting an answer anytime soon, I went home to have lunch before returning for my afternoon psych class.

I'm not sure which was worse - having my Latin class canceled in the morning, or that first psych class that afternoon. It was so boring I'm surprised I made it thought the whole three and a half hours without falling asleep. I could barely understand what the professor was talking about and to top it all off, I was freezing in the over-air conditioned room. Needless to say, I was definitely repeating "Just keep swimming!"to myself quite a bit that evening.

I'm happy to say that things have mostly worked out. My Latin class was officially canceled, but I don't have to take two classes this summer. The second psych class yesterday was much better - I actually paid attention the whole time! Hopefully the rest of the summer continues to go smoothly.

Here's to sticking out tough weeks, and to that I-haven't-worked-out-in-forever soreness that hurts oh so good.

ciao

Intention

Last night I saw Woody Allen's new film, Midnight in Paris. I really liked it, though it made me want to go to Paris so badly. The plot is rather like science-fiction: Gil, who daydreams about the "Golden Age" of Paris in the '20's, finds himself magically transplanted there during a midnight stroll. He meets all the famous writers and artists who called Paris home at that time: Hemmingway, the Fitzgeralds, Picasso, etc. He spends a few nights amongst them, unable to believe he is actually living in an era he had so often dreamed about. The catch comes at the end, when his 1920s love interest sighs that she wished she had been born at the turn of the century, in "La Belle Epoque." When Gil tries to tell her that she is living in that age, that the '20s are the true Beautiful Age, she repeats, almost verbatim, the same complaints Gil himself had about the 2000s.

The moral of the story of obviously to be happy in the life you have, not waste energy dreaming about something impossible. It was a bit cliche, but it made an impression on me. Sometimes I find it really difficult to focus on the present moment; I'm too busy reliving highlights from the past or frantically trying to imagine what life will be like in the future. I've been doing this lately especially now that The Boyfriend is in Italy - it's been hard for me to focus on the present because I've been so lonely.

Well, the film has inspired me. I am going to try to be much more intentional about my daily life, and not just go through the motions, especially now that The Boyfriend is gone. We've lived together for about a year now, and I was so sad and lonely when he left last week, but I've realized now that it's good for me to have some time for just me, time to figure out again who I am outside of our relationship, just on my own. I'm not sure how I'll do this exactly, but it's certainly something worth thinking about each day, especially if I'm considering just sitting in front of the T.V. for the rest of the night. It reminds me of a speech one of the seniors at The Academy gave last year. He said that he hated feeling like he wasn't being productive. He never just sat around watching T.V. because he always felt like there was something better to be doing. And that, in a nutshell, is what I'm pursuing, I suppose: meaningful productivity.

On the more mundane side of things (or not, given what I just wrote above), tomorrow is a mini-orientation at Tufts for those students in the Dept of Education taking classes this summer. I'm very excited about it because it means I'll get to meet some people from my program - and hopefully expand my social agenda a bit, too. :)

Here's to living with intention and purpose!

ciao

A Successful Transplant

Well, world, we did it. The Boyfriend and I successfully moved all our crap from our apartment in the 'burbs of Boston into the city. Into Somerville, to be more specific, which, for all you non-Bostonians out there, is technically not Boston, but a separate city (but it is part of the Greater Boston Metropolitan Area). Whatever, it's all the same to me. And I love it. Our new apartment is spacious and full of light!! So much so that we were unable to sleep past 5am for the first few days because of the amount of sunlight streaming in through our blinds (and due to the total failure of our blinds). I guess living in a garden apartment makes you forget that there is, indeed, sun in the mornings.

Though we've had the apartment since June 1st, because of our trip to Ohio, this is the first full week we've been living here. We spent the first few days last week recovering from the road trip, and just when things are about to settle down, one of us has to jump up and leave again. That's right, the Boyfriend is leaving for Italy tomorrow, and will be gone on an archaeological dig there for six weeks. Boo hoo for me, but I guess with classes starting at Tufts on the 5th of July, I'll have other things to worry about other than being crushingly lonely. I also plan on doing quite a few fun things with some girlfriends, so hopefully I'll have plenty to post about. But that's about it for now, world. Have a lovely Wednesday!

ciao

Alma Mater

As I mentioned in my last post, I was in Oberlin earlier this week, staying with the magnificent CMF himself. Overall I had a good time - hanging out with CMF was especially fun- but there was a subtle strange feeling that permeate the days which we spent there. I had not been back to Oberlin since I graduate from that fine institution two years ago. I had refused to go, mostly because of financial issues, but also because I knew that it would be different from when I had been there; different people, different events, a different atmosphere. I didn't want to go back and feel disappointed that things were not exactly as I had left them. This trip, however, was a necessity; The Boyfriend had some work he had to do with a professor there and Oberlin made a good stopping point on our drive from Boston to Cincinnati, which was our ultimate destination. I thought that after two years, I would have grown up and out of Oberlin enough to handle the strangeness of going back to a place that was no longer mine.

I suppose I was wrong.

I had expected to get on campus and feel as if the college years had been yesterday. In reality, I couldn't remember the names of streets or buildings, or names of people. None of the major places or people from my tenure there, but things I had once known nonetheless. New buildings had been built and I couldn't remember what had been there before. The food - burgers and pancakes which we had raved about nostalgically in Boston - didn't taste as good as it had in our daydreams. All in all, it was strange and it made me sad.

The term "alma mater" means "nourishing mother" in Latin, and I think that it describes my college experience perfectly. Oberlin was like my mother; it provided me with the tools I needed to make a life for myself once I had outgrown it, its faculty and staff made me feel incredibly loved and appreciated. I loved my time there, but there definitely came a time for me to leave. And now, going back to visit is similar to going back to the house where I grew up: it was a part of me, but is now no longer mine. And that is exactly how I felt at Oberlin, like a visitor, a guest, in the house where I had grown up.

ciao

Sadness

Well, after quite a bit of anxiety and stress, the year is over and the Boyfriend and I have successfully moved off campus into our new apartment. Classes ended well, though there was a strange bit of nonchalance about it. I was very much expecting to get uber-emotional and mushy with my last class, and rather expected them to at least be a little sad about the fact that I was leaving. When it became clear to them that I didn't really have a plan for class beyond answering a few of their questions, however, they all looked at me expectantly, asking, "So...if we're not going to do anything, can we leave?" I know they had other things on their minds, like, say, exams, but still. Given that reaction I thought, well, if they don't care, why should I? So the last day of class ended without tears.

At graduation, last week, I thought surely, the sadness and emotion is coming now. It's graduation, this is the last time you'll see the students, of course it'll hit you. But it didn't. I sat there and cheered and clapped as each senior received his or her diploma, then chatted with a few other students during the reception afterward, but as I headed back to my apartment, thinking about how I wouldn't see them again, I still wasn't sad.

This lack of sadness confuses me a bit, because I am a very emotional person, sometimes overly so. Any excuse to have a good cry and I take it. Yet here I am, presented with the perfect weeping opportunity, standing dry-eyed. I think it might have been the anxiety of the move, constantly worrying about getting everything into boxes, and knowing that once the move was over, we were driving 13 hours to Ohio. I am currently sitting in Mudd Library at Oberlin College, my lovely alma mater, and this is the first time in weeks when I've had nothing to do and have been able to just be on my own. So maybe after I've had some more time for self-reflection, I'll be sad and nostalgic. But I think that I am looking forward now, to Tufts and all that my program and new living situation will offer. Maybe I'm finished getting emotional over things coming to an end. I had an awesome time at The Academy, but I am ready for something new. So here I go -

ciao

Chihuly

Yesterday, I went to the MFA with a friend to see the Chihuly exhibit. I had seen one of his Chandeliers before, in the entrance way of the Cincinnati Art Museum, but the exhibit at the MFA was supposed to be very large, and I was excited to see so many of his work all in one place.

There was a glassblowing demonstration outside the museum, so my friend and I stopped to watch for a few minutes before going in. It's incredible to see them handle glass so easily, especially since it's burning hot. Then we went into the museum itself. We probably chose the wrong day (it was Mother's Day) because the line was enormous. We had gone in the back entrance (the Fenway side) which had a shorter line, but the line out the main entrance was out the door and almost down the block. I guess the museum is a good thing to do for the whole family, as well as the fact that it was free for Bank of America account-holders (if you have a Bank of America card, you can get into the MFA - or lots of other museums - for free during the first full weekend of the month). So, we got in line, got our tickets, then immediately got into the line for the Chihuly exhibit. We had been told when getting our tickets that the wait for the exhibit was an hour and a half (!) and it didn't seem like we could wander the museum until then. So, resigned, we got in line and prepared to wait. The hall in which we were waiting was filled with Danish sketches and paintings, so we were able to enjoy some art, and it turned out that the line moved much more quickly than anticipated. After a mere 20 or 30 minutes, we were in!

The exhibit was INCREDIBLE, but I'll let some pictures do the talking...











Beautiful. If you live in the Boston area, go check it out!

ciao

Heaven, or some semblance of it

I think in my personal heaven, there will be authentic Thai food and authentic Italian food to eat for all eternity.

Last night, I made my special Thai meal for a group of four students. Let me backtrack for a moment and explain why I was cooking for kids. Every winter, The Academy has an event Winter Fest. As the name implies, it is a festival of sorts during the winter. Kids set up tables and sell cupcakes or face paint, and all the money that is made goes toward financial aid. One of the service clubs on campus has a "promise tree" each year, where people donate things that are silently auctioned off. I donated a Thai meal, cooked by yours truly, and so, last night, the kids who won came over.

The dish I always make when I make Thai food is called gaeng gai (which I guess in English is pronounced something like "gang guy) and it is basically a chicken curry dish. It's made with a base of coconut milk and is probably one of the most delicious things in the world. I also usually make a Thai omelet with it, since the mildness of the omelet balances out the spiciness of the curry.

On Wednesday, I went to the store and bought ten chicken thighs. Unfortunately, they only had thighs that had skin and the bone still on/in them, but I figure that it would be ok. So at 5:00 yesterday, I started skinning and boning 10 chicken thighs. I thought this would be an easy task, but I forgot to factor in my "repetitive stress" injury. Yes, I have something akin to carpal tunnel in my right wrist, which, of course, is my dominant hand. So, I was frantically cutting up each thigh while trying to avoid getting any raw meat onto my wrist brace. Doing anything with a brace on is difficult, and cutting up meat is no different! After about 5 thighs, I started to panic about getting everything ready in time, so I enlisted the helps of The Boyfriend, who kindly obliged and cut vegetables. At 6:00, I threw everything into the pot, and frantically made the omelet. Somehow, everything was ready at 6:27, and at 6:30, the kids arrived.

The dinner itself was mostly just funny. Funny how kids pretend to hide gossip from adults while really wanting them to know what's going on. Funny how each kid is s self-absorbed, in the way only teenagers can be. Funny how each of them things him/her self to be so mature, so worldly, when really they only have to worry about the grade on their next test.

I love working with these kids, high schoolers in general. I love watching them interact with each other, watching them squabble over things that won't matter years, months, days from now. It's fun to watch them develop that more mature self-awareness, to see them leave that selfish teenager behind. It's also fun to remember how similar to them I was when I was there age. So silly, so naive. Such is life.

Anyway, it was a fun night and the food was pretty spectacular, if I do say so myself. Good thing there are lots of leftovers!

ciao

MESO

I know I never wrote about the People of Color Conference (PoCC) that I attended in December, though I really should have. It was a really meaningful experience, and working with the diversity office in general has really helped me open my eyes to my own prejudices and ignorance as well as that of those around me. My work has also helped me start thinking, at least, about my own racial identity, and what it means to be multiracial in America. My mother is from Thailand and my father is white. Growing up, I didn't fell that different from my friends, who were mostly white, but now that I've been looking back on those years, I've realized that my life was significantly different from that of my peers, and not only because my mother had an accent and trouble pronouncing some English words.

So, I've been doing a lot of thinking about myself, my family, and the world in general. It's been interesting and frustrating in almost equal measure, but that's not what this post is about.

Here at the Academy, as at most high schools, there are a handful of affinity groups. Umoja is for African Americans, Alianza Latina for Hispanics, Asian Student Association is for...well...yeah. I can't remember if my high school had these groups or not, but I do remember hearing about affinity groups in general and thinking that they were stupid. That they only further segregated kids of color from white kids. I understand now the absolute need for affinity groups, and though most of my thinking came from my white-privilege upbringing, some of it came from the fact that I didn't know if I was "Asian enough" to attend the Asian affinity group meetings. I certainly didn't feel all that Asian, so I felt that it would be wrong for me to go. And because of this, I felt as if I had no racial identity.

Enter the PoCC. Each day of the conference, there is a time slot for affinity groups to meet. I was nervous about this at first, but a co-worker who is also half Asian told me that I should come with her to the multiracial affinity group. I had never heard of such a thing! In fact, I had barely ever heard the term "multiracial" or "multiethnic", though those two words describe me perfectly. So, I went. It was amazing to sit there with people from all different backgrounds -half black, half white; half Latina, half black; I even met a girl who was half black, half Thai! Despite the differences of our origins, our stories were the same. I don't feel like I fit into either racial group. I can't speak my mother's native language. I feel out of place among my non-white family. Other people don't understand why I don't understand my father's culture. The list goes on. I couldn't believe that here were people who knew exactly what I was talking about when I shared my frustrations.

Coming back from PoCC, I was determined to get involved with MESO, the fledgling multiracial student organization (MESO stands for Multi Ethnic Student Organization; only slightly more original than the Asian Students Association). With my coworker, the one who suggested I come with her to the multiracial affinity group, I've been helping the co-heads organize meetings and recruit members. It's been a bit difficult, especially since it's the end of the year, but I'm hopeful that this group will really get going. It was so incredible for me to have that venue to talk about what I went through during high school and college; how amazing would be for the kids to be able to talk about those things now, while they're experiencing them!

So, here's a cheer for multiracial people everywhere! Let's hope that we take over the world someday. :)

ciao

Whirlwind

I haven't written in a month! Oops! Things have been in a whirlwind since I got my acceptance letter from Tufts. My mind has been all over the place - from getting classes ready to how we'll decorate the new apartment to where I might be student teaching next spring. Needless to say, I'm pretty anxious nowadays, and have been having trouble sleeping simply because I can't stop thinking about everything that is going to happen in the next few months. Classes end in four weeks (!!!) and then we're off! Moving, then driving to Ohio for my brother's graduation from undergrad, then back here to unpack, then classes starting. eek!

It's a bit surreal, the fact that I'm leaving the school. People keep bringing it up, asking what I'm doing next year, but it's still just words on a page to me. I'm exciting about starting this new chapter, but I know that on the last day of class I will be an emotional mess. I've grown so attached to this place! I don't really want to leave, as excited as I am to be going back to school. I love working here and it has been such a wonderful experience. At least I know that I have built myself a solid foundation with everything I've learned here, and that my program at Tufts will just be building up on that foundation.

Leaving will be hard, but it's been an excellent adventure and I'm ready for a new one.

ciao

Acceptance

I got into Tufts! At last, the wait is over and I can stop being an anxiety-riddled ball of nerves! I am so happy and excited, both about this program and about finally moving into the city (we sign the lease on Wednesday!). So many new and exciting things in my future! Now all I have to do is keep my focus here at school for the next ten weeks and we'll be golden. :)

ciao

Infuriatingly Useless

So remember how BU sent me that e-mail about how they had made a decision about my application but refuse to tell me what it was? Just let me stew around for a bit while I waited for the mail to come? Well, this just in from Tufts-

"Dear Applicant,

The department is completing its review of applications and decisions will be made shortly. You will be able to view your decision online at -supersecretwebaddress- as soon as it is available.

Please understand that we cannot communicate admissions decisions over the telephone so please log on to the website regularly.

Applicants who are offered admission will also receive a packet in the mail."

A username and password follow.

SERIOUSLY?!?! Was it so hard to send out an e-mail that said "At 5:00pm on Friday, the decision concerning your application will be available at this address"?!?!?! WHY IS THAT SO HARD!! I literally can't sleep. Literally. It's 4:45 in the morning, and all I want to do is keep refreshing that stupid web page. FML.

ciao

Home is Where the Heart Is

So, for those of you who don't know, my fellowship with my current school is ending with the school year. Though I would love to stay, 1) I haven't been offered a job for next year and because of that 2) I am excited to move into the city and try something new (hopefully graduate school). That being said, The Boyfriend and I have to find somewhere new to live. Several faculty have asked me if I thought about staying here just as a house parent, but I find it strange to only be working for the school in that capacity. So, since I've been on spring break, I've been looking up apartments obsessively. I contacted a real estate agent to help us out, as well as just e-mailing people on craigslist. I have to say, once we really got started, it was surprisingly easy! I arranged a meeting to see one place on Monday morning, then a meeting with the agent that afternoon. The boyfriend and I spent the day being driven from place to place, assessing faucets, closets, and storage space.

The first guy we met was...unconventional. He looked like a Rastafarian with white-man dreadlocks, one of those shapeless knot caps, and a sleepy, laid-back expression that made me wonder about his non-office hour activities. He took us to see two places; the first was literally right next to Tufts and the second was a bit farther away on Highland Ave. The first place was fairly large, with two bedrooms and a nice kitchen. The area, however, was a little too iffy and inaccessible. The second place on Highland, while in an obviously more accessible area, had a strange lay-out and really didn't have enough closet space. Plus, the walls were painted really bright, garish colors that would be a pain to cover up.

The second agent inspired much more confidence. He had a very professional manner and asked us all sorts of questions about what we wanted, how far away from Tufts we were willing to be, how much we would spend if heat and hot water were or weren't included, etc. Then he drove us around to a bunch of different places in his brand-new Mercedes. The first place was a no-go because it didn't have laundry in the building and was being renovated over the summer so the rent would be out of our price range. The second was a gorgeous loft, but the bedroom was teeny tiny! We also really want to have a separate room to use as an office. The third place was enormous! It was the first floor of a house in Winter Hill. The price was pretty good, but we'd have to take it in May instead of June. It was really large, though, which made it very appealing. The fourth place had disgusting carpets so I vetoed it as soon as we walked in. The last place was in Arlington, which is a bit too isolated for us, even though the apartment was cheap and beautiful.

Yesterday, we met another agent at a different place on Highland and it was...stunning. Large rooms, lots of windows, and just an awesome vibe in general. We saw another apartment that was similar but with a different layout, but we were in love with the first place. It's on the more expensive side in he rent, but it includes heat and hot water and is in an awesome location. SOO...I think we'll be going with that one and are getting ready to sign all the paperwork as I type this.

I am so excited to move into the city. While I love where I live now, it will just be so much easier to have a diverse social life if we're closer to the action. And it will definitely be nice to live away from 30 high school girls. ;)

ciao

Beware the Ides of March!

It seems fitting for some reason that my 100th post be about my interview. I don't know why.

Also, the fact that today is the Ides of March has nothing to do with my post, I just think it's a good idea to remind people about it. :)

So....my interview. It was generally a weird day overall. In the morning, I had taken the option of visiting one of the site schools that Tufts works with. I was told to get there on my own, where I would be met by someone who would talk to me for a bit then take me to observe some classes. I arrived early (of course) and met a few other candidates for the program. We talked for a bit before being met by the head of the social studies department. Aside from knowing that we were coming, this woman had no idea what to do with us. She thought that we were all interested in social studies (we were not; the other candidates were French, English, and Science) and then wasn't sure about what classes we should go see. She had not idea that we might like to see classes in our discipline, so she dropped us off at one class, then another, while she tried to go arrange that. The Latin teacher wasn't even there that day, so I sat in on an AP French class, which was, of course, taught entirely in French. The teachers of the classes we visited also had no idea we were coming, so none of them were doing anything particularly interesting, though it was nice to see the culture of the school in general. We were supposed to talk with the current Tufts interns, but the woman in charge of us didn't know, so we only learned their names before we were whisked off somewhere else. It was all very unorganized.

After that, we were to get back to Tufts on our own for the pizza reception at 12:30. We left the school at 11:00am, sure that we would be on campus within a half hour or so, since Tufts wasn't very far from the school. That was without considering the length of time it would take the bus we wanted to come. So I stood with two other candidates outside in the pouring, freezing rain for about 30-40 minutes, and, once we did get on the bus, we had to make a transfer, which meant more freezing, pouring rain. I commented to one of the other candidates that it's a good thing Tufts was my only choice because if I had another one, I would be sorely tempted to take it. I mean, shouldn't they have at least arranged for us to get back to campus? What if the candidate were from out of town and had no idea how to navigate the buses? At any rate, we made it to the appointed room, a little wetter than we'd been that morning.

The reception was fine; we all went around and said our names and what we wanted to teach. Naturally, I was the only Latin candidate, which makes me want to think that my chances of getting in are slightly higher than other people's. Then I went in to my interview. The woman interviewing me was, first of all, only interviewing two candidates that afternoon. She was also some kind of math Ph.D candidate, though she obviously had ties to the Dept of Education. The first thing she said to me when I sat down was, "I'm sorry, I've read over your statement of purpose, but I haven't really read your recommendations or your resume." I thought to myself, "WTF?! How on earth are you supposed to know anything about me without having read my stuff??" while aloud I said, "Well I'm sure they all said nice things about me." So, that was weird, and definitely threw me off. The interview itself was really casual, more of a conversation than anything, which as nice, except that this lady knew nothing about Latin and nothing about me. I mean, she asked me if there was a difference between learning your first language versus your second. Like, what??? So, yeah. It was strange all around and I didn't come out of it feeling that I'd represented myself well, mostly because I felt like I was explaining things to her the whole time rather than talking about why I'm passionate about teaching. Very disconcerting. I talked to my dad the next day and he was like, "Well maybe they've already decided to admit you but had to interview you for appearances." That would certainly be nice.

So, now all I have to do is wait. I think I might be hearing within the next few days, so I'll definitely let the blogosphere know.

Next up, the exciting world of apartment-hunting!

ciao

Restaurant Week

~ A gourmet who thinks of calories is like a tart who looks at her watch. ~

I am trying very hard to become a gourmet. Boston's Restaurant Week (or two) has helped me toward my goal. In every season (or so it seems) there is a "restaurant week" here in Beantown, where numerous restaurants all over the metropolitan area have special menus: for lunch, two courses for $15, for dinner, three for $33. You pick each course from a pre-set menu, which can often be found on the aforementioned website. This past week, I have gone out to eat four times, three of which were at restaurants participating in Restaurant Week (let it not be said that I wasted my spring break).

On Wednesday, I went to a lecture about Renoir at the MFA which was delightful, especially because the lecturer, the curator at the Frick in NYC, was British. Doesn't really matter what's being said, I'm happy to listen to a Brit talk for an hour. Not that the lecture wasn't interesting because it was fascinating, but I was talking about eating copious amounts of food. SO. After the lecture, my darling friend and I headed to Brasserie Jo, right across from the Prudential Center. It was late (8:30pm) so the place was nearly empty. It was cute, though, with a Parisian cafe look about it. I ordered the grilled octopus (appetizer), the suckling pig (entree), and the baba rum (dessert). The octopus was interesting, much more dense than squid and with a fishier flavor. The sauce for it was delicious, as were the banana (?) chips that were on top. My suckling pig had a strange flavor, which might be because I was expecting something Asian, as I'd never had suckling pig outside of Asia. The Boyfriend, when sampling the leftovers, said it tasted like Italian porchetta, which was a fairly accurate statement. It was good, just not what I was expecting. The baba rum, a type of rum cake, had pineapple on top and was most excellent. Overall, on a scale of 1 to 10, I'd rate this place at a 6. Not a crazy fan, and probably wouldn't go back to pay regular prices.

On Thursday, I went with a large group of friends to Dante. On my scale, this was a 9.5. It was outstanding. The service was excellent and the food was divine. I had gotten there early, and along with two other friends who were on time, we waited for two more members of our party. The waiter didn't seem to care that we were just sitting there, though we did order to extra (off the RW menu) appetizers (calamari and arancini, both excellent). When our friends did arrive, we took forever to order, but once we did, everything came out in good time. I ordered spaghetti carbonara (appetizer), parmesean-crusted veal (entree), and a chocolate tart (dessert). Everything was superb. The Boyfriend got some kind of steak and it was so tender and flavorful it practically melted in your mouth. The other dessert offered was panna cotta, which was also perfect. I usually don't like it, but Dante's offering was incredibly creamy and accented beautifully with blood-orange gelee. I would probably go back here and pay ridiculous amounts to eat their food again.

On Friday, after my interview, which I will write about later, I went out with The Boyfriend and a few other friends to Teatro before going to see Handel's opera Agrippina. I'd rate this one an 8.5. It was also wonderful, but we were in a rush so we didn't get to enjoy it as thoroughly as I would have liked. This was also the one place I've gone in the past week that didn't have a RW menu, which was a bummer. Oh well. We ordered pecorine boschetto, a type of cheese that came with a truffle marmalade, and truffle fries as appetizers (delicious) and I ordered sea shell pasta with lobster in a lobster stock sauce (also sinfully delicious). We didn't have time for dessert, unfortunately. I'd like to go back, but the prices were a bit steep. The food, however, was wonderful, so who knows...?

Saturday was terrible. We went to Forty Dalton, which is in the Hilton near the Pru. The food was ok; I had a salad (appetizer) that was nothing special, mustard-crusted pork (entree) that had waaaay too much mustard on it, and chocolate pots du creme (dessert) that supposedly had Bailey's in it. The lobster mac and cheese, which a friend ordered was, admittedly, quite delicious, but our service was terrible. We were seated around 5:45pm and got our first two courses in a fairly timely manner. Then, while we were eating our entrees, the waiter disappeared for about 45 minutes. My friend was dying of thirst and after not too long we were all ready for dessert. I was particularly concerned since I wanted to be at the symphony by 8:00pm, which shouldn't have been a problem, given the time we were seated. In any case, our waiter came back eventually and I had to scarf down my chocolate mousse then rush to Symphony Hall. Definitely not going back there.

So, eating is now my hobby, apparently. I have one more place to try, then I'm calling it quits. Being on spring break is expensive!

Next up, the interview...

ciao

Commencement

So, the first week of my spring break has flown by. I'll write about the first weekend (last weekend) first, then proceed to post about various other events of this week.

Last weekend was a whirlwind of activity due to a friend from college coming to visit. She is trying to decide between University of Virginia and Tufts University for her Ph.D, so needed to come and see Tufts' campus. She spent Friday talking to various professors then met up with me, The Boyfriend, and various other friends for dinner. We went to Diva, in Davis, which is absolutely excellent Indian food. After dinner, we went to the swing dance in Charlestown, which was hosting the Baby Soda Jazz Band, a particular favorite of mine. We danced the night away and came home to collapse into bed.

Saturday morning, we headed back into the city to meet some friends for dim sum. I love dim sum very much; what could be better than people pushing cart-loads of delicious food to you for two hours?! We went to Hei La Moon, just on the edge of Chinatown. It was especially exciting because we were joined by a friend's Chinese roommates, who were able to converse with the cart-pushers more efficiently than anyone else. The meal ended with everyone clutching their stomachs while trying to shove in that last bite of dumpling. Superb.

After dim sum, a group of us headed over to Boston Common. We pointed out all the beautiful, unaffordable homes to our visiting friend, and tried to figure out what the monument in the middle was for. We met some more friends on Newbury, where I had spent much too much money in the Borders that is going out of business there. Eager to rest our feet, the group headed to the Pour House for drinks and, for those who were still stuffed from dim sum, snacks.

Though I had been planning on going dancing again that night - there was a special event going on, with lots of dancing both during the day and in the evening - I decided to hear down to Stoughton (where yet another friend lives with her boyfriend) with everyone else so I could spend more time with my out-of-town friend. Pizza and alcohol consumption abounded, and numerous drunk stories from college were recalled. The Boyfriend and I headed home early due to exhaustion, and we bid farewell to our friend who would be flying home the next morning.

Sunday I spent in Charlestown working the door of the dance event I mentioned earlier. It was really fun, since I got to watch the lessons that were going on. I should mention that the couple teaching, Bobby and Kate, are truly spectacular, but also just happen to be my favorite teaching couple. It's also not really a secret that I have a huge school-girl crush on Bobby. He's just such an incredibly talented dancer as well as an awesome person. He's the most down to earth out of all the instructors I've interacted with, and I really appreciate that. Most other swing dance instructors are enormously self-absorbed and arrogant, but Bobby has never come across that way. He just loves dancing. Anyway, he and Kate spent some time chatting with me during the break between classes, which was awesome, as well as helping me with my dancing during the practice session afterward. I'm proud to say that I didn't act too much like a fool in spite of my goofy happiness. :)

So, all in all, a lovely weekend. I'll post later about the week.

ciao

Dreams

I have been having the strangest dreams lately. I don't know if it's the stress from what happened with "Cynthia" a few weeks ago, the stress of wrapping up classes before spring break, or the stress of preparing for this interview/constantly wondering what my future will be like. I dunno, maybe I'm stressed out. Anyway, here are a few espcially strange ones from the past two weeks.

Last week, I dreamed that I was in a creek with my younger brother. Suddenly, I saw two crocodiles heading for us. I scrambled out onto the bank, with my brother behind me. As I looked back, I saw my dad in the creek, just hanging out with the crocs. "That's strange," I thought, and figured that if my father was peacefully occupying space with the animals, my brother could, too. So I promptly pushed him back into the creek, at which the crocs immediately pounced upon him, chewing on his head. That's when I woke up, very frightened, and very confused.

Apparently I have sibling issues, because a few nights ago, after the Oscars, I dreamed that I was in the living room of my parents' house with my brother, watching TV or something. We then saw a smallish red and black snake slither up to us (very much like Nagini in that scene from Harry Potter, when she slithers down the table toward the audience on her way to eat the Muggles Studies teacher. Which they showed on the Oscars) and promptly bit my brother. I ran to call 911 while his arm bloated up horribly, and I'm pretty sure he died in the midst of my call. Not sure what that means...

Last night I dreamed that I was on a water polo team and we were training really hard. We were about to compete against another team that was much bigger and better than ours. The coach of that team was none other than CMF, my college swim coach, though in my dream his name was David. Apparently he was also recruiting, because there was some element of "Oh, I hope I'm good enough to get on his team" even though we were already on another team. I think this dream came from the fact that I had just complained to the Boyfriend extensively about my unhappiness with my body and how I would probably feel better about myself if I were swimming. But still, it was strange.

I guess the two things I can take away from these dreams are 1) I want to kill my brother via reptile and 2) I should start swimming again. Hmmm...

ciao

Holding On

One more week until Spring Break. Five measly days. Five days of classes separating me from the bliss of waking up whenever I want, wearing sweats all day, and reading books for pleasure until my eyes fall out. Except for that tiny engagement I have at Tufts on the 11th. I guess I'll have to shower and put regular clothes on for that.

Oh well, you can't have everything.

I'm definitely running on fumes, as are the kids, but I think we'll all make it. We all definitely need the break, too; both of my Latin classes bombed the last test they took, which is NOT good. So, morale is not at it's highest, and break seems all the more enticing and, consequently, far away.

5 days.

Bring it on.

ciao

Two Incidents

Two incidents from this week, one funny, the other, not so much.

First, the funny one:

I was walking down the hall yesterday when I came upon a few of my students. They greeted me enthusiastically, as always, and we chatted for a moment. Then, out of nowhere, Girl A grabs Girl B's arm, swings here around and shouts, "OMG! Look at Girl B's HICKEY!!!"

Needless to say, I was rather shocked, not just at the fact that Girl B has a hickey (she's a sophomore) but that her friend would blatantly expose her like that. Girl B turned very, very red, grinned sheepishly, then ran into her classroom. Ah, teen drama.

Now, the not so funny one:

Last week, I was giving a test in my Latin 3 class. Apparently it was rather difficult, because as the students were finishing up and leaving, they all looked daggers at me. One student, still working on the test to the very end of the block, was visibly frustrated. As the period ended, he slammed his hand on the desk, shouting, "SON OF A BITCH!" I asked him to calm down, to which he replied, "I will NOT calm down! To you, to everyone else, this is just another test, but I F*CKING need this class to graduate!" He turned in his test and stormed out of the room, kicking the trash can for good measure.

Again, needless to say, I was both shocked and frightened. This particular student is much bigger than me, and if it did come to some sort of violence, which his actions intimated, it wouldn't exactly be a fair fight. It's true that he does need my class to graduate, and that historically he hasn't done well in Latin. That being said, his outburst was totally inappropriate.

I contacted all the appropriate people: adviser, dean of students, academic dean. The next day, the student came into my office and begged for my forgiveness. He was incredibly distraught, and I readily forgave him. Hopefully he has learned to control himself.

Oh, teenagers...

ciao

What A Way

I don't think anyone has had as eventful a birthday weekend as I have. And I'm not talking about getting wicked wasted and puking all over the bar (or something along those lines). I'm talking about something so ridiculous, so absurd, it could only be funny, until is isn't...

Below is the statement I wrote out yesterday afternoon, chronicling the events of 2/11 after I had left the bar with my friends. Prepare to be incredulous.

*Note: Names have been changed*

***

Here is my account of the events of last night, 2/11/11

After spending a pleasant evening at the Burren and the Diva Lounge, Tony, Brad, The Boyfriend and I hopped in Tony's car to head back to the apartment. It was somewhere between 11:45pm and 12:15am. After parking, we noticed as we approached the house that the kitchen light, as well as Cynthia's bedroom light, was still on. As we entered, however, we tried to be as quiet and respectful as we could. We went into the kitchen where we saw the remains of a meal strewn across the counters and stove. Tony made a comment about Cynthia knowing that a mouse was still at large and how despite this she never put her food away. I promptly tasted some of the chicken in the pan. What can I say? I was a bit drunk still. We spoke at a fairly normal level, I would even say a notch under, and I was definitely trying to keep my voice down since I know it has a tendency to carry. Brad put water for tea and we gathered around Tony's laptop in the kitchen to see the results of the NCAC Conference meet in which Oberlin was participating. This led to watching the video "Inception Cat," which The Boyfriend did not think was as funny as he should have and might have caused me to laugh a bit more loudly than was strictly polite at that hour.

Shortly after this, Cynthia came down and asked us to keep it down in a very brusque manner. She said that she and her boyfriend had been asleep when we came home and that we had woken them up. We apologized and said we would certainly keep it down. Tony then asked her if she would mind putting her food away since there was still a mouse around. He asked in a very polite and reasonable manner, which was why I was surprised when Cynthia replied along the lines of "Ok, Tony, thanks," in the most sarcastic, mean, tone possible. As she headed out of the kitchen - without clearing up her leftovers - she gave us all the middle finger with her back turned to us. We all sat there, rather shocked but not overly surprised. We started chatting again, this time in very low whispers, and The Boyfriend got into bed.

Tony, Brad and I remained chatting in the kitchen and, a few minutes after she had left, Cynthia came back down and angrily asked us if we planned on being quiet or keeping it down or something along those lines. We all protested that we were being very quiet, barely speaking above a whisper, and Tony pointed out that when The Boyfriend had lived in that room, he (and I) could hardly hear anything going on in the kitchen, no matter how loud. Cynthia insisted that she could hear us "screaming like 12 year olds" which was strange, since no one had been screaming. Tony then said that we had seen her light on when we came home so we knew she had been awake. She insisted that she and her boyfriend had fallen deeply asleep with it on. I then said, flippantly, that it was a good thing she woke up again so that she could turn the light off. Again, still a bit drunk. I don't remember if there was another exchange or not, but then Cynthia said to me, "I don't even know why you're here, bitch," or something to that effect. She definitely called me a bitch. I then said as calmly as I could that everyone who lived there had told us - me and The Boyfriend - that it was ok for us to be there to which she replied "Yeah, only if you were quiet." At this point, I insisted that we were being perfectly quiet and she might have told me to get out of her house. I noted then that I had been friends with her other two house mates long before she moved in, to which she replied, "Yeah, well I live here now," as if she had say over every interaction in the apartment. I was rather shaken up. Afterward, she stormed up the stairs, slamming both sets of doors behind her. I should note that during this entire exchange, Brad, Tony and I were gathered around the butcher block table, with Tony and I sitting next to each other on the bar stools and Brad standing on my left. Cynthia was standing on the other side of the table. I remained seated the whole time.

Once Cynthia had gone upstairs, Brad, Tony and I got ready for and into bed (The Boyfriend and I were sleeping on the futon in the living room). The Boyfriend was still awake so we discussed what had just happened before falling silent and attempting to fall asleep. After about 15 minutes or so, I heard voiced downstairs, then the front door opening. I though it must be the landlords, who live in the first floor apartment, coming back from some late night adventure - that thought made me smile - but then the door buzzer went off several times rather urgently. I heard Cynthia get up and rapidly run down both flights of stairs to open the door. I thought that perhaps she had hypocritically invited some of her own friends over at this odd hour, but as soon as I heard her say "They're upstairs," I knew she had called the cops.

There were four of them and they went down the hall to Tony's room first. Tony then came out and called our names and turned on the light. The four policemen stood in the doorway of the living room looking at us (I think, I didn't have my contacts in) and told us we had to leave. I asked what was going on but they only repeated that we had to leave. I asked permission to put pants on since we were both dressed for sleep. Tony handed us our clothes and we quickly dressed. We gathered with the policemen to try and figure out what was happening. They still only told us that we had to leave. Cynthia was standing behind the group of men. I stated that I had in writing permission from each of the housemates to stay, to which Cynthia said, "Not if you threaten me." The Boyfriend immediately fired back, "You're the one who called *her* a bitch!" so I tried to calm him down instead of attempting to explain that I had never in any way threatened her. The police allowed us to put our contacts in and gather our stuff, and at around 1:30am, we drove home.

***

Needless to say, I was rather shocked over the whole encounter, but, knowing Cynthia as I do, was not shocked. I'm pretty sure she actually convinced herself that I had threatened her in some way. So, The Boyfriend and I managed to laugh about it on our long, tired, drive home at 1:30 in the morning.

Saturday, however, we were not laughing too much. Cynthia had decided to post about the entire false event on her Facebook, eliciting sympathy for her and rather mean-spirited comments for both me and Tony. Not only that, but she went as far as saying that I was "angling for a fight" and "belligerently drunk," neither of which, of course, were true. So now, Tony is talking to his landlords and trying to get the whole thing figured out. I am very hurt and offended and tired out by this whole thing. It's hard to have someone say totally false things about you then have people you don't even know say terrible things about you. I know none of it true, and that my real friends know that too, but still, it's mentally taxing. I just hope the truth comes out once and for all soon.

But still, good story, right?? ;)

ciao

Like a fine wine...

Today, at 12:30pm, I turned 24.

Lordy, Lordy, what am I to do with myself?


ciao

Results

Got the letter today. A small envelope. Everyone knows what that means, even without opening it.

Oh well.

I still have the Tufts interview, but now instead of just doing well I have to smack it out of the park.

I don't really feel up to that right now. Good thing the interview is in March.


ciao

Just when you thought it was safe...

Just as I started to feel settled with the knowledge that there was nothing I could really do about the Tufts interview right now, and after I had convinced myself that I wasn't going to hear form BU until the end of February/beginning of March, I received this e-mail:

Greetings,

A final decision has been made on your application to the Master of Arts in Teaching in Latin and Classical Studies. An official decision letter has been mailed to you and you should receive it shortly. Please note, final decisions will not be released over the phone.

If you have any questions, please contact the Graduate Admissions Office at sedgrad@bu.edu or 617-353-4237. Thank you for your continued interest in Boston University School of Education.

Best regards,
SED Graduate Admissions Office



WHAT THE HELL IS THE POINT OF THIS E-MAIL?!?!?!?!?! AAARRRGGGHHHHH!!!!!

So here I am again, caught up in the muddle of stress and anxiety. awesome.

ciao

Exhale

So, after I heard about my interview at Tufts, I e-mailed the women in the Classics Department, with whom I had spoken a few months ago about the program. I asked her if she had any advice for the interview.

She wrote, in addition to slightly more concrete suggestions,

"Having met with you already, I can safely say "be yourself." You have excellent interpersonal skills and should be fine."



Well, that's good news. :)

ciao

Another Bevy of Emotions

OMG. I can't even handle the emotional overload I am experiencing right now. So, I am still contemplating the emotions I expressed in my last post and not really getting anywhere. Mostly just concluding that been an adult is lonely. That being said, today I got an e-mail from the Tufts admissions office telling me that I had been granted an interview after the review of my application. Now, of course my first reaction was total joy. (For those of you who don't remember, back in the summer when I still posted I talked about applying to graduate school; I sent in my apps to BU and Tufts shortly before Thanksgiving) An interview! At a graduate school! And they might want me because of this interview!

And, of course, my next thought was, "Holy shit. I have no idea how to prepare for a graduate school interview." And then, it was like an avalanche of uncertainty. "What will they ask? How do I respond? What if I'm too honest and they don't like that? What if I'm not honest enough and they can tell I'm trying to be clever or whatever? What if they hate me? Which day is better to interview, the first of second? Does it really matter? What do I wear? HOLY SHIT!?!?!?!?" So yeah, confusion abounds. On top of that, I ran into a colleague this evening at dinner and he told me that his cousin is coming into school tomorrow to interview for my job. MY JOB. As relieved and excited and scared as I am about this whole graduate school business, there is still a part of me that is a bit insulted and upset by the fact that the school is trying to find someone to replace me instead of keeping me. It definitely makes me a bit insecure as well; was I so bad a teacher that they really don't want me? That being said, I'm not sure I would stay even if they asked me, since the timing is really awesome for me to go back to school, but still, it's the principle of the thing.

Ugh.

I know I should focus on the fact that I have an interview, that it's in March so there is plenty of time to prepare, and stop freaking out so much. But, in case you haven't noticed, I'm a really emotional person and sometimes it's a bit hard to hold it all in.

ciao

Bittersweet Symphony

It's been a while since I wrote about my emotional turmoil caused by my transition from student to adult, so I guess it's about time for another post about it.

Friday night was the last home meet of the season for the Oberlin swim team, and ordinarily I would have though nothing of it. The athletic department, however, has started this cool streaming feature where you can go to a link and watch the meet live online. It's pretty cool, and since I was just waiting to leave for the swing dance that night, I decided to check it out. This decision may have been a mistake because, upon seeing my beloved home pool, an enormous host of memories descended on me like a swarm of locusts. No joke. All of a sudden, I missed Oberlin, and being on the swim team, so much it hurt. I wanted to be there, on the deck, cheering on my teammates and joking around with CMF. I wanted to run into the stands to hang out with my friends who had come to watch me swim. Most of all, I wanted to get in the water and swim faster than I ever have, feel the burning pain of competition once again.

When the girls 100 yard freestyle started, I actually started to cry.

Pathetic, right?

I have definitely missed swimming and all it brought with it - the pain of grueling workouts, the exhaustion from 6am practices, the joy of being surrounded by your teammates - but never so intensely as in that moment of watching my former team battle for victory. Ever since leaving Oberlin, I've felt adrift, trying to find my place in the swirling current of adult life. I've mostly managed to find a community here at school among my colleagues and in Boston among old and new friends, but nothing like that togetherness, that family feeling I had when I was part of the swim team. I think seeing them swim on Friday made me realize that I may never ever find that kind of camaraderie again. And it's true, I may not, because how many adults out there feel that kind of connection to those they work with, or the friends they've cultivated? That thought scares me immensely, because never have I felt as included and loved as I did during those four years at Oberlin. But I think it's also part of the growing up process; you have to leave behind those support systems that were once so vital to your well-being.

So, here I am, almost 24, almost two years out of college, and still floating around trying to find roots. I guess it's not uncommon for those of my age, but it's hard to deal with when I had been so firmly rooted before. I'm confident that I will find a place to land soon, though. It's just going to take more time than I thought.

Celebrating Martin Luther King, Jr...Sorta

So, at my school, we have this amazing tradition for the way in which we celebrate MLK Day. Most of the country gets Monday off, then goes back to their regularly scheduled week on Tuesday. Not so for us. We have regular classes on Monday, due to the number of Mondays that get hit by other holidays, then on Tuesday, we have a day long celebration that includes a keynote speaker, workshops centered around diversity and social justice, and a community wide activity. All this is followed by a student art show, showcasing all the work of the students from the first semester. Now, I know that most people would grumble about not getting that Monday off, but there is much to be said for our day of celebration. How many of you actually thought about Martin Luther King yesterday, his work, what he stands for? During the workshops, the kids are actively thinking about, and working towards, all aspects of social justice. They are leading discussions and showing clips and preparing food to donate. The keynote inspires and challenges them to keep Dr. King's dream alive. The school wide activity shows them the diversity and the similarities within our own school.

It really is a great day, and I remember being so impressed and awed last year by everyone's enthusiasm. I even decided to run my own workshop this year about being multi-cultural, and what that means to us as individuals and to society as a whole. Unfortunately for us, however, the weather decided to conspire against us, and, after the first workshop and the keynote speech, school was let out for the day. It is snowing really heavily right now, and the roads probably will not be very safe later on, so it was a good decision, but I was really excited about my workshop. At least we got to hear the keynote speaker, Dr Gloria White Hammond, who was simply extraordinary. I just hope for myself that, in years to come, I can remember the experience I had here and remember that MLK Day is not just about getting the day off from work.

ciao

Back in the Swing (of things)

So, after a blip in the week due to more snow than I've seen in a while, I finally got to teach my first class of the new semester. It was a short block (45 min), so it wasn't super exciting - we spent most of the class reviewing - but it was a nice way to ease back into teaching. It's amazing how rusty you get over a break! Friday, I had two long blocks (80 min) so that was a bit more challenging, especially since I had assigned Latin 3 a quiz during the snow day. I was pretty sure they weren't going to be happy about it, but there wasn't as much grumbling as I had anticipated. Which is a plus, I suppose. I'm really hoping that I can really shape up my teaching this semester, really thoroughly prepare lessons and explanations, etc. I hope that will cut down on the grumbling, but we'll see.

Last night I took a group of kids to the Uptown Swing Dance in Brookline. There were nine kids, 5 boys and 4 girls, which was a great (and surprising) spread. I was a little nervous about it, since I hadn't been to the Uptown dance before and wasn't sure what to expect. We got there for the beginner lesson, which turned out to be a bit complicated for those new to dance. It was even a bit complicated for me (not that I'm super awesome or anything; it's just that I'm not a beginner and should have a pretty easy time during those lessons). The kids were a bit discouraged by this, but once the dance started, they proceeded to practice with each other. The crowd as definitely on the older side, which was fine, but a little less energetic than I was hoping. For the first bit, the kids only danced with each other, but, to my delight and surprise, as the night went on, they started dancing with other people! It was really cool to see them get comfortable enough to ask complete strangers to do a dance they had only learned an hour ago. Two of the boys even asked me to dance, and they were pretty good! So it seemed like everyone ended up having a great time, myself included. On the ride back, those in my van asked if we could go dancing every weekend. I laughed and said we'd have to see. But I am so happy they had a great time and want to do more! Maybe this is the beginning of a swing club! Who knows?

ciao

Snow Day

So, yesterday was the snow day. The Boston area was slammed with at least 18 inches of the powdery stuff, and The Boyfriend and I woke up to a world of white. The stairs leading down to our apartment were completely obscured by the snow, as were the paths leading around campus. We certainly weren't going anywhere soon. So, we had a leisurely breakfast, then suited up to go shovel. That was interesting, since there was so much we weren't really sure where to put it. It was also still snowing rather heavily with great gusts of wind swirling snow every which way. Nevertheless, we shoveled our way out of the apartment, cleared the stairs, then the path ways around us. By the time we headed back in, a fine layer had already accumulated.

Back inside, The Boyfriend and I spent most of the day lounging around, watching TV and movies. I did invite the girls in my house in for a little tea party. I had acquired the delicious Tim Tam cookies, and we whiled away an hour or so doing Tim Tam Slams (if you don't know what that is, look it up on Wikipedia. It's delicious). Around 4, all campus residents were required to move their cars to an un-plowed spot, so the plow trucks could clear the rest of the parking lot. So, we grabbed our shovels and snow brushes and joined our neighbors in sweeping the foot of snow off the tops of our cars then shoveling that all out so it could be moved. That was certainly a lot of hard work, and made the snow day slightly less enjoyable. After the cars had been moved, however, The Boyfriend proceeded to throw me into a bank built up by the plows, which devolved into a full on snow-ball fight between us. It was glorious.

As much as I savor the time away from work, I'm not an enormous fan of the disruption of routine. Anyone who knows me knows that I worship my daily routine, and anytime I deviate from it, I feel antsy and unsatisfied. This morning, as I got ready for work, I felt strange and out of place, all because I hadn't been in school the previous day. I blame this feeling not only on the disruption, but also on the fact that we'd only been in school for one day before the snow came. Hopefully today and tomorrow can get me back into the swing of things. At any rate, here's to really starting the new semester, and the new year.

ciao

False Start

So, today was the first day of classes of the new year. It was rather anti-climactic for me, since I don't teach on Tuesdays, but I did get back into the routine of prepping, planning, and meeting-attending. The kids were very rowdy, excited to see their friends again and maybe even a little excited to get back to class.

All that gearing up to get back in the swing of things was in vain, however, since New England is supposed to get about a foot of snow tonight and tomorrow. About an hour ago, the snow day was called, so after one day, the kids are back on break, and I won't teach until Thursday. At least I'm ready from all the work I did today!

Maybe I'll do something incredibly interesting tomorrow. Who knows?

ciao

Baby, I Got the Blues

Last night, as part of my resolution not to sit on my ass so much, I went blues dancing for the first time in - quite literally - years. I've written before about swing dancing - mainly Lindy Hop, Charleston, and Balboa. Blues is a different type of jazz dance and I'm not sure of the exact definition of it, so I'll just give you my impression. Where swing is very up-beat and fast, blues is much more laid-back. I read somewhere that ballroom dancers are at the most uptight end of the spectrum, blues is at the most laid back, and Lindy Hop is somewhere in between. The music, is, obviously, blues, and is usually much slower than swing, and the dancing itself is slower and well...sexier. I say this because blues is usually very slow, danced to usually very sultry music, and generally requires a closed connection (where the chests of the lead and follow are touching). You can dance blues in a more open connection; you just don't see it that often. The movements are very slow and deliberate, and, in my opinion, require a level of finesse that I just don't possess. I just can't move my hips that way! Anyway, I think it's very easy for someone who doesn't know how to blues to fake it, but I think it's very hard to be really, really good at it. Check out some videos on YouTube.

So, I went to this dance, not knowing a lot of people, a little nervous because, like I said, blues often requires a closer connection. As a follower, though, I was able to control how close I was to my lead, and I was never uncomfortable. Though I'm not that familiar with blues (the last time I danced blues was in college, maybe two years ago), I ended up having a really fun time. The people were really nice and the music, as always with jazz dance, was really great. I did, however, really realize that I am a Lindy Hopper at heart. I might try to go out to he blues dances more often now, but I am definitely going to make more of an effort to get out to the swing dances. Yay for new year's resolutions!

ciao

City Driving

In all honesty, I'm not sure why I'm blogging about driving in the city, because words can't even being to express how much I HATE it. I will, however, try to put this complete loathing into words.

This morning, The Boyfriend needed a ride to the airport (he's going to San Antonio this weekend for a nerdfest conference, aka the AIA). I, being a wonderful girlfriend, agreed to take him, so we loaded up the car and turned on the GPS. Now, let me say first that I love my GPS, and I would not have survived nearly as long as I have on the streets of Boston and the surrounding areas without it. That being said, sometimes I want to chuck that evil little machine out the window and drive over it repeatedly. But I'm getting ahead of myself. As I said, the GPS was on, and got us to the airport just fine. I was familiar with most of the roads we took and generally knew where I was the whole time. This is because I am often the one being dropped off or picked up from the airport, and usually pay more attention to how we get there, since I am excited about my impending flight, etc. When it comes to leaving the airport, in my limited experience, I am being picked up so have no need to pay attention to which road to take, which highway we want, which fork in the road is best, since I have just gotten off a plane and am usually quite tired.

Today, of course, I was doing the dropping off and had to then head home. And of course, inevitably, I had no idea how to do so. I don't know how many of you have left the Logan Airport, but dear God, is it a mess. Ramps going every which way, signs pointing vaguely in every direction - and of course that little GPS that I so loved on the way over was being incredibly unhelpful. Cue the desire to chuck it out the window. Also, I don't know if anyone has ever noticed, but the signs in Boston SUCK. I mean, really, people, how the hell do you all get around every day?!?! Ugh. So, basically what happened was that I took a series of incorrect ramps, was honked at several times while trying to get to what I thought were the correct ones, and then somehow I ended up downtown. Downtown! When I really very much wanted to be heading out towards the suburbs, where I live. Luckily, I had ended up in a part of downtown close to where a friend lives, so I was lucky enough to recognize the area and actually know where I needed to go in order to get home. But still. It was absolute hell.

Thus, driving in Boston is the bane of my existence. 100 points to me as the best girlfriend ever.

ciao

The King's Speech

Last night, the Boyfriend and I went out to the movies, which, in and of itself, is a momentous occasion. He happened to be working only until 3pm, so we had plenty of time to grab dinner then head to the theater. We went to the Coolidge Corner theater, which is pretty impressive. I'd never been there before, so it was a pretty fun experience; the interior is all art deco and the largest theater is actually a stage, with a curtain and everything.

Anyway, we saw The King's Speech, having seen a preview for it a few weeks ago. It's about King George the VI who takes the throne when his brother abdicates. George, played excellently by Colin Firth, just happens to stutter, and isn't really able to make public speeches, so he employs the help of one Lionel Logue, played by Geoffry Rush.

The movie was utterly fantastic. Firth and Rush portray their characters fabulously, and Firth is especially impressive pulling off the stutter. Helena Bonham Carter is great in an understated role as George's wife- I really loved her because she wasn't playing some crazy lunatic. The sets, costumes, and soundtrack are all beautiful, and learning something about the way we talk was pretty cool too. The best part was a scene with Colin Firth galloping around the room screaming "fuck!", "shit!" and "bugger!" at the top of his lungs, then sheepishly muttering "tits;" it might have been the funniest thing I have ever seen. I think the really amazing thing about this movie is that it is basically all dialogue-driven; there are no action scenes, no special effects, just two men, talking about how to talk. It's really very beautiful.

So, if you only see one movie in all of 2011, see THE KING'S SPEECH!

ciao

Starting Over...

So, here are my resolutions for 2011:

1. Be healthy
this includes:
-fruits and/or veggies at every meal
-exercise every day
-limit sweet intake
no big deal

2. Journal more often (this includes blogging!)

3. Keep in better touch with people

4. Put more effort into learning the craft of teaching

5. Try to be more productive with my time
(i.e. try not to just sit on my ass watching T.V. all the time)



Here's to a new year, and hopefully a better me.

ciao