This is why we can't have nice things...

     I can't have nice things. I break them. If you know me well you know that my future spouse will never buy me jewelry. This is because I'll tell him not to and not because he won't want to. I secretly think men like jewelry more than women do. They especially like it when women wear jewelry. They're like raccoons. They like SHINY.

ANYWHO, I can't have jewelry because I'll lose it. In addition to that, I should never own a Mercedes because I drive like... a girl.

Backing up. I got into a car accident on Thursday which had started out as one of the best days ever until, obviously, the accident. Thursday was the first day of school! I got to meet all of my wonderful new students who are mostly seniors. Seniors do not equal eight graders. Seniors are better :)

Even the ones with personalities a mile wide lock it up when you tell them to. I like the control.

I'm teaching Geometry, Advanced Math, and Honors Trig. Fancy stuff.

Over the past few days I've been fine tuning Power Points for the year. Yes, the whole darn year! Thank you school K drive and my desire to have all things that are awesome. Power Point is awesome.

Uhhhh... oh yeah. Car accident. If only I had the whiteboard diagram I drew for my 1st period Study Hall on Friday this would be so much easier.

Basically I left a parking lot facing west to cross three lanes of traffic on a street facing south so I could turn right (west), but I didn't yield well enough in the left turn lane and BOOOOOM. Nigh night right bumper. At least I have insurance... which is more than I can say for the other guy,

This story has some key details that make it... you can assign an adjective in a moment:

1) The other guy was in the car with his entire family: wife and three small children.

2) The parents didn't speak English.

3) The kids weren't wearing seat belts.

4) The child that had to translate for her parents was... IN MY SCIENCE CLASS LAST YEAR.

5) The guy had no valid American driver’s license.

6) He had no insurance.

7) He had no documentation of vehicle registration.

Oh yes. This is real life. Apparently people can't get deported for traffic violations because the police don't do a legal status check at the scene. Well, MAYBE THEY SHOULD! I just got into a car accident with a potentially illegal alien. If you ask me (and you are) I maintain the belief that the Mexican government needs to pay my insurance deductible BECAUSE this guy isn’t even supposed to be over here anyway! I love immigration. I love that America is a melting pot. I get that a vast number of the military is populated with individuals who have migrated to our great country. I get it… but I still want my money MEXICO!

Mawwage. Mawwage is what bwings us togeva...

Well it's what brought me home for the month of June and a weekend in July... oh and on my BIRTHDAY (August 4th for you slackers).

Watch as I "internetionally"* announce the following unions.
*Internetionally - adj. the way in which news is made official and true through its being posted on the internet

- June 16th: Michael and Clara Black
This wedding was... well it might rank second only to my future union.
Marines. America. Hillsdale County Fair Grounds. Mr. Leutheuser dancing up a storm.
If I can achieve 3/4 on my day I shall call it a day worth having had.
That and my husband will be a DREAM BOAT.

- June 22nd: Jared and Circe Krout
Jared. You performed a choreographed dance with our Kiki. Touche my good man. She is yours.
Rook, thanks for taking one for my car's interior. The back seat seems lonely without your Sprite soaked self chilling in your skivies.

- June 30th: Sam and Chelsea Bender
Guuuh :) I love them. I love them both and now they live in Colorado with me! Two years ago when Chelsea and I told Sam we should all move to Colorado he reminded us that often dreams and plans are not the same thing... often, BUT not never. God is good.

- July 15th: Kam and Katie Muller
As far as weddings go, this one probably mirrors my future union most closely in the guest list.
Katie, if you could copy and paste yours into an email that would be great. Again, a wonderful wedding in Hillsdale with all of the wonderful people that made the College a wonderful place to attend. "The Oberon Fountain of Youth" will live on in memory and there will surely be attempts to recreate at future nuptials (<-- weird word alert).

- August 4th: My cousin Shannon Shaw and Greg Cerveny will tie the knot in my Aunt and Uncle's back yard/beach on Lake Huron with a reception to follow at THE Yacht Club.
Family. Get your party pants on!

In conclusion, I am a happy camper and I would assume they are as well.

This is not the finsh line...

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you
But make allowance for their doubting too,
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream--and not make dreams your master,
If you can think--and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it all on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings--nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much,
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And--which is more--you'll be a Man, my son!

--Rudyard Kipling
I gave a copy of this poem to each of my 8th grade boys at the end of this year.
I didn't really plan enough time to talk about each line with them. However, it was nice to see some of them nod and agree as I read through it. On each copy I wrote their name, signed it at the bottom, and highlighted the word "Man". As some of them folded their copies gently and put them in their pockets "I couldn't help but wonder" how many of them would actually ensure that piece of paper didn't meet an untimely demise in the washing machine? Probably not many.

Personally, I have had two major moments in the last year (and a few in the last five) for which this poem has given me some clarity... this poem, friends, family, and God. These two moments deal in particular with some things said by some exceptionally ignorant people. People who took things I have said or done and used them against me. The first of the two hurt less because it was said by someone who did not know enough about me to know that what she was saying was laughable as it could not have been further from the truth. The second came from a source which surprised my family as strongly as it did myself.

If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise...

If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools.

I guess that's life. We all have to do it.

Final thoughts: If I am to be a Christian I have to be better. I will be better.
Faith by Grace not by Works. --- ONE JUDGE.

The best things in life are free...

"The more one does and sees and feels, the more one is able to do, and the more genuine may be one's appreciation of fundamental things like home, and love, and understanding companionship."- Amelia Earhart True. I can't say that I've flown a plane, have world wide fame, no the distinction of... disappearing. However, being away, starting a new job, making new friends, parenting 80+ children, living alone, paying bills, changing state residence, gaining conviction to register and vote, and all of the other new stuff makes me at best one of the "ones" to which good ol' Amie is referring. I have a new found appreciation for my friends and their families. Here are a few recent events for which I am extremely grateful:  - The smiling Douglas children who great me in the hallways after school. Secretly, Riley is really my child. Sorry Hillary. - Making egg rolls with Jami, Izzy, and Steve Sunkel, Patricia Tofili, and Mary and Drea Aquino. - Spending St. Patrick's Day and Memorial Day with the Ridenours and family. - Skyping with everyone at Dad's on Easter. - Watching "Thor" with Tammy and Josh Young. - Enjoying the Gina Relays from the comfort of the Dailey's heated tent filled with food and all of my favorite people including my own Momma. - Dinner with Biggs, Clara, and Alice at Roselie's when I was home in April. - Dinner with Bruce, Lauren, and Chelsea Wackernagel in Pueblo, CO at an Applebee's. - Skyping with my stepbrother, Aaron and his girlfriend, Caitlyn and Shawn, Emily, Mom, Dad and Libby, Grandpa and Grandma Buchhop, Grandma Argyle, Susie, Rown, and Mila Gauvin for the Baby Reveal Party... Caitlyn and Shawn are having a GIRL! - Celebrating Katie and Kam's upcoming wedding at a beautiful shower thrown by Katie's Aunts; chatting with Katie's Mom and Grandma afterwards. - Eating dinner in Homer at Rumors with Mom, Caitlyn, and Shawn. It's not that these events would not have brought me great joy before I moved, rather I don't think I could have appreciated how lucky I am that there are people in my life who are willing to share more than just precious time with me. Economics dictates that time is the world's most precious commodity. I suppose that is true if you consider that possibly the reason home, love, companionship, families, and friends are all INVALUABLE is because these things take time. Thank you to all mentioned above and the countless others who touch my life, for your time which you give to me freely. Why they do this, it's hard to say...

Email... I hate email...

Okay. I get it. Email is really fast and it makes the world go round.

BUT I HATE CHECKING IT! Moreover, I hate how many emails people send. Mrs. Willie D knows this better than anyone, as I gave her my password junior year so she could check my email for me. I'm sure some of you techie people just died a little inside, but it needed to be done. The Track team at Hillsdale... and when I say team, I mean Coach L., sent more emails than you could possibly imagine. In retaliation, because it seemed the mature thing to do, I started sending copious amounts of "inspirational" emails around conference time so people would actually find something they wanted to read or links they would want to follow on YouTube instead of being consistently disappointed by repetitious emails about our hotel information which we didn't need since for the most part we just rode the bus and got off when they told us to.

It's not that I think the information in emails is useless. Don't get me wrong. I would have been late to every track meet, forgotten every practice time, failed half my classes, and I certainly would have been fired from this job a long time ago without email. What I am saying is that I love pencil and paper. It makes me unconditionally happy. A real live planner with a non-mechanical pencil working together to solve all of my organizational problems! Or a pencil and paper solving math problems... Wow. I cannot stand electronic organizers. They don't mean anything to me. What with the binary code and the shiny screen it lacks the satisfaction of taking your brand spanking new No. 2 and crossing the shit out of some horrible task you had been assigned in the last PD meeting. Pencil on computer screen equals damage from which said computer will never recover.

It makes me really sad to think that people are taking such a giant leaps away from mole skin organizers and printed text. I personally cannot imagine my childhood without lugging around all of the progressively larger Harry Potter books. Summer = HUMONGEROUS HP books by the Leut's pool. Imagine a pool full of kids trying to swim while reading HP at the ledge with a Kindle. We all would have been electrocuted and died unspeakable deaths. It's science. Am I saying email would have been responsible for our deaths? Yes. Yes I am. Does this make me a crazy person? It's hard to say...

My dedication to blogging equates to that of an 8th grade boy to math class...

     The thing that troubles me when I sit down to blog is that I constantly think to myself, "Oh. I could blog about that!" while miles away from a computer on which to blog (as I would never admit to blogging at work). Of course at that exact moment the thought then leaves my brain. Someday I will buy those Google glasses and my blog can suck the thought straight out my eyeball and put it on the Internet... Actually that thought kind of makes me want to throw up.

     Technology has its creepy side. Google glasses reside on that side. You are simply begging for brain cancer, worse eye sight, the end to virtually all of your relationships with actual human beings, and to die in a car accident. At least in the moment you can Google, "The odds of dying in a car accident while rounding a curve at 55 mph." ... which, as you can ask Chelsea is not too oddly specific to Google. It will find sites to which it can direct you.You can "Ugoogle" anything! It's half the reason I'm able to teach science. How the students haven't managed to notice that I go to my computer every class period for 5 minutes it's hard to say...

     That practice is actually better than when I go into default, "No worries. I know everything" mode and pass of my educated guesses as clear, irrefutable scientific fact.

     Today I am sending out a general complaint into the world as to inform those of you who have reproduced that I am sick and tired of parenting your children. Within the first 4 minutes of being at our league track meet last night I had to perform the following interventions:

1) Explain to a 7th grade girl why it's not very classy to flip your best friend off in a public bathroom with a coach and other athletes in your presence. No big deal Mom and Dad. I know she probably learned it at home, but I've got your back.

2) Cluster a group of 7th grade boys and inform them that poking each other in the face and screaming "penis juice" at the top of their lungs is not appropriate in front of a group of mothers and fathers. Dear little boys, may your "penis juice" never lead to a whole other group of little monsters like yourselves. PLEASE PEOPLE stop spreading your "stupid" seed out into the world!

The more I do this job the more terrifying the thought of raising a human being becomes. I'm smart but, I can admit that there are certain things my brain and Google will be ill equipped to rescue me from. Perhaps parents would do well to invest in a computer, read more books, put down the crack pipe, and crack open a Bible.

Recent revelations and on-goings...

This post shall proceed in bullet point fashion as to help you, the reader, follow my train of thought. It's the least I can do.

 - To My Dear Sir, Alice Arnn: F.U.N. is the completion of a lifetime of devotion to the Format. Thank you for bringing that to my attention. There will never be any greater feeling than driving all over Michigan and northern Indiana listening to their CD's on repeat with you. LOVE.

- On Wednesday, March 7, 2012 I joined an Elite group of individuals who have ripped their pants whilst instructing middle school children. I got really lucky (if there can be luck involved in this kind of misfortune) because it happened in front of my 8th grade girls. I love them with my whole heart and I believe the feeling is mutual. Allow me to paint you a picture.
Student (S.A.) - "EWWW a bug! It's a gnat!!"
Me - "Haha! S. carries around garbage in her pockets. GROSS!" (I love them!)
Student (S.A.) - "At least it wasn't a spider." ...

That comment led me to tell them about dear Circe Cansino who more often than not cries when she sees a spider. Then that comment led me to tell them a story about the time a white spider ambushed me while I was driving to Howder from the Sports Complex. I started crying in the car, sped into the driveway, slammed the Jeep into park, jumped out if the car, ran into the house, and started striping my clothes off while screaming and crying (I knew in my heart it was on me). Circe was sitting at the dining room table. She cried with me as I retold the tale. That's a real friend... with a real phobia.

THEN that story reminded me of the time Chelsea Wackernagel got so freaked out when Jasmine Mays snuck up on her at Howder that she froze and fell over like a fainting goat. I believe this behavior transpired on a few other occasions as well.

Student - "What's a fainting goat?"
Me - "Oh they freeze and fall over when they see a predator. LIKE THIS..."

Riiiiiiiip... tiny noise, BIG PROBLEM!

From the looks on their faces none of them noticed or at least they were all gracious enough not to say anything. I love them. Needless to say I spent my planning period running home to change my pants.

- I joined Bally's. I had my body fat tested and have been labeled "acceptable". I think that means I'm normal and am currently 4% away from the "lean" category.

During my consultation with the world's most adorable trainer I tried to explain to him that I have no idea what I'm doing. I used to have 14" biceps... I want to look like a lady. "GET IT DONE" came out of my mouth on a few occasions. Now I circuit train and eat six 230 calorie meals a day... how long will THIS last... It's hard to say... NOTE: I am not paying him to train me. They want $506 for sixteen sessions! I don't have a first born to put down as collateral and Jami Sunkel won't give me hers. I've been fortunate enough to charm some nutrition support out of them, and Jami knows the manager so he has been really great about giving us discounts and advice.

I work out with a co-worker who is the funniest, smartest, kindest lady I've ever met! LeErica!! Working out with her makes me think of lifting with Anna Dunham back in the day :) In fact, it's so much like working out with Anna that we have to bring a timer with us so we don't spend so much time talking. The hour between 4 and 5 pm is quickly becoming my favorite of the day.

- I miss my family, friends, Howder Street, HC T&F, and Winnie Dog but I will be home in April for the GINA Relays. I plan to throw javelin. I have a title to defend.
How well it will go... it's hard to say...

- GB2 ... God Bless and Go Buchhop! ( I heart Tim Tebow)

Once again...

Once again I'm giving a math test. Right now. It's shameful I know, but these are the kids I reviewed with TWICE yesterday. God save them if they don't pass.

The past few days I've been trying to figure out why I've been in a funk at school. (Funk. That says funk.)
At first I thought I wasn't sleeping enough, or I was sad that I didn't have anymore Hunger Games books to read. That wasn't it. I knew it had nothing to do with Valentine's Day because it doesn't really offend me that a man didn't impress with with flowers and chocolates. That's not really me anyway. I think my favorite flower I ever got was from a boy my sophomore year of high school. It was part of a school fundraiser so the flowers we annonymous. I got three, I think. Two from friends and then one from "Erefel Sirch". My stomach dropped out of my butt when all I could think was that it was from some Lord of the Rings reading, elvish language speaking, clingon kid from the freshman class. Eww. High school girl EWWW.
Around time for volleyball prctice is when my best friends (who had been smirking ALLL DAY long) mentioned that I might want to try spelling the name backwards. OHHHH. A perfectly wonderful Junior boy had sent me the flower!
Anyway, that's the best flower I've ever been sent. Best and favorite. He was a nice boy. I told you that story for the purpose of explaining that flowers were not the issue.

I realized that my job involves giving kids 100% all day long while recieving maybe, on a good day, 15% in return. I care way more about most of these kids math grades than they do. If having kids means this much giving and zero recieving, well I'm just not sure I will ever be ready (or patient and humble enough) to have Christmas 365 days a year.

The Man in the Yellow... t-shirt.

This is not a story about Curious George, rather it's a story about Gwenners.

More often than not my Friday nights include reading a book and sitting on my couch. I've been feeling as though my youth is being wasted. Truly I am no longer a college student and my job is SUPER draining, however, I am only 22. At some point I will wake up and be in my 30's... I might even be married! There is a big part of me that knows I will regret not adventuring whenever the opportunity presents itself.

Thus, this Friday I volunteered to chaperon the MS Valentine's Day dance (please note this is not the thrilling part). After two and a half hours watching the most awkward human activity on the planet, I bounced downtown to meet up with some friends at Cowboy's. I know exactly two line dances so the main draw is the $10 all-you-can-drink-liquor bracelets and the kindly cowboy men.

Being the only single gal in the bunch it was obviously my duty to allow the married folk to live vicariously through my youthful shenanigans. If you know me, you'd know I was more than willing to oblige. Two rum and cokes later I found myself talking with a very nice looking gentleman whom I noticed exactly 2.5 seconds after entering the bar. "My friends and I were wondering where else we should go on a Friday night (smile, hair flip, smile, lean in)." Names were exchanged and promises to dance to the Cupid shuffle together were made.

Roughly 5 minutes later we were seated near the dance floor where a delightfully attractive guy in a yellow t-shirt asked me if I knew how to line dance. "Oh aren't you precious. No. I have no clue. My only skills are underwater basket weaving and the Cupid Shuffle... I do well when they tell me all the moves." Cue the Cupid Shuffle... "Well, let's do this thing."

Hello dance floor, friends, yellow shirt guy, and oh look who it is! The first guy and his friend. At that moment I pictured myself in this situation at the MS dance... AWKWARD. "Hey Gwen!" Small triangle forming on the dance floor. BIG smile which indicates I haven't noticed anything uncomfortable here. No not me. Hahaha... UGH.

We all sit back down in the same general vicinity to the left of the dance floor. Yellow shirt guy's friend starts talking to me, notices the first guy sitting at our table and BOOM! I'm on the floor. Bouncers are coming out of no where, crawling over people, I think one repelled from the balcony above. "Are you okay?" ... Uh It's hard to say... what JUST happened here?

Yellow shirt guy's friend pulled a Chuck Norris move and threw his chair at my chair which went flying across the floor and left me in an intimate meeting with the concrete floor. True story.

Moral of the story: If you aren't looking for a boyfriend, and you already have a $10 drink-all-you-want-bracelet, then leave the crazies to themselves.

The night ended in a 2:00am breakfast at a Food Network praised dinner downtown with the first attractive man in tow. I ate the most delicious toast EVER. We dropped him off at his car and then I went home. No harm. No foul. I don't think I'll be seeing him again.

I'm not sure how this "dating strangers" thing is supposed to work but I'm content with texting a certain someone for now :)

Airplanes...

I like McDonald's as  much as the next American. We like fries, coke from a big machine, ketchup from an automatic dispenser. We do. HOWEVER, there are a  select few places that I don't want you eating "food" from the only place where a picture of a clown selling me anything is even mildly acceptable. One of those places would be on an airplane.
On my way back to Colorado I was so hungry in the Detroit airport that I was going to put a bomb threat on my plane just so it could be delayed, and I could sit down to eat real food. I didn't do that. I don't have aspirations to know the security step that comes after the big machine that looks at you all nudy-pants.
Anyway, I got really close to my gate and noticed that there were only a handful of people waiting in line to board so time was limited. I got a smoothie from some Starbucks'-oxygen-deprived-little- bother place... because I'm normal and I don't feel like other people need to smell the food I ate for two and a half hours.

APPARENTLY, there are people in this world... people flying from Detroit to Denver... that think a vehicle that has to remain pressurized so people's heads don't start popping off is the BEST place to eat all kinds of fast food. I like my recycled, germ infested air to have a distinct, underworldy stench to it thank you very much! Really?!? A greasy burger was the best you could do? How about a triple with cheese next time pal! I want to feel the calories your injesting.
There was Taco Bell, McDonald's, and Burger King! Thanks so much for putting my head in a grease covered paper bag for the next few hours of my life. I hope your slowing heart beat helps you sleep through the flight! Clogged arteries , I hear, make for optimal rest in crowded and STINKY conditions! By all means eat your fast food in front of me while 18 crying babies jam to "Screw You and Your Lullabies, Mom!" for the entire flight. Where do these people get off?! It's hard to say...

I don't make the rules, but if I did there would definitely be a "no subjecting other people to your poor life choices while on an airplane" rule. And just to be clear, I am not including "having a baby" in my list of poor life choices. I get it. Babies cry. Fair enough. But if your kid is ugly... the gloves are off.