Miscellanea.

• This weekend, I'm doing a 25-mile trail run. I've been taking it easy with the running during April to let my IT Band heal, and I believe it's nearly healed. We'll see on Saturday.
  
• We are going to test to see if 17-year-old Mini-Baboo can be alone for 48 hours. I'm trying not to visualize any of the scenes from, "Risky business." Mini Baboo requested Internet, basic cable, a loaf of bread, a jar of peanut butter, lots of macaroni and cheese, and lots of sugar-free cool-aid. Then he said, "Okay, I'm set.'
  
• After nearly 9 years of teaching, I'm not going back. I've been cautioned to say that I "need a break" rather than "I'm burned out." But we know the truth, don't we?
  I've got at least one interview coming up for school counselo, and a bona-fide offer from the community counseling center I've written about before.
  
• I've lost 8 or 9 pounds so far with WeightWatchers. Eleanor (Which, by the way, is not her real name) brought me lots of chocolate to make amends for the file debacle, which I tossed into my filing cabinet in a panic before the message that hey, there's chocolate, and lots of it could reach my brain.
  Meanwhile, that's 8 or 9 pounds of my a$$ that I won't be hauling up and down the hills of Colorado this weekend.
  
• Still very tired of the gangstas, but luckily, it's spring and most of them are blowing out at an astonishing rate--getting expelled from school and what have you. Sort of a mini-Darwinism at work.
  
• I'm rediculously excited about the weekend trip to Colorado. A whole weekend around grownups is quite the treat for me! I'm going to do all the things I can't do around students: let's see, I'll cuss like a sailor and, well, that's it. cuss like a sailor. I'm less excited about the current weather near the trail run.
  

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Two weeks, four days, and counting.

SO I have a partner teacher. She's very sweet. She's supposed to be in charge of the 6-7 special ed kids I have in my first two classes. However, she's not a math teacher. This means that I have to make extra copies of everything, including keys to worksheets and tests, because she can't do them. I have to grade all the tests because she can't grade the work, only the answers.

Did I tell you she's very sweet?

She's not happy about the arrangement. She is normally a social studies teacher, and was very alarmed when they put her in Algebra. She can't help me teach, because she doesn't know Algebra. She's supposed to be a special education teacher, but she can't help the special ed kids. She wants to do more, but she can't. She feels bad about this. She's retiring next month. Meanwhile, she wants to be useful.

So finally, I asked her to grade some quizzes for me. Multiple-choice ones. Sounds easy, right? I mean, you look, the key says C, so if their answer isn't C, you mark it wrong. Except that I didn't give her the key and she didn't want to bother me, and she doesn't know enough about Algebra to make one. So she decided to try to "help" me more by doing some other stuff, like consolidating my files. Without asking me.

I told you how sweet she is, right?

She showed me the result: very large files labled with each period that had all of their work in it. All of it. She'd taken the papers that were graded and not recorded, turned in but not graded, and recorded but not yet passed back--and put them all in one big file. Mixed them all together. Aieee.

"Um, Eleanor? Um, did you notice that some of the files said, "IN" and some said, "OUT"?

"You mean I mixed all that up? Oh, dear...you must be furious with me!"

Sigh. I decided that I was going to have to fix this myself. What else could I do? I can't let her have access to my electronic gradebook, to see which ones are recorded and which ones aren't. Besides, there's only so many deep, cleansing breaths that a person can take before they go postal and scream out, "Get the eff away from my files!"

Meanwhile, I'm supposed to be writing 5-6 pages of "reflection" on how my year went for my annual evaluation because apparently, now, it's now my job to tell my supervisors how I did. (I have decided that, since it's up to me, I did awesome.) I was going to spend the morning writing my reflection, which is due Thursday morning, but instead, I sorted through the very large snafu.

I'm so glad not to have to do this crap again next year. I'll still have crap, but it will be different crap, and new crap is sometimes interesting. For a while.

Oh, and have I told you how tired I am of gangsters and their posturing and their stupid baggy damned pants and their stupid grafitti and their stupid blue and white everything? Well, I am.

...

The goal is to be completely exhausted.

Apparently, that's the goal of ironman training: exhausted, delirious, and then to let the taper do its magic. Sweet Baboo took me on a "near century" ride yesterday, and then I ran a long, slow, labored nearly 10 miles today with about 1500 feet of climbing and some sand today.

I took along the ipod so I wouldn't have to listen to myself going, "HUHuhHUHuhHUHuhHUH..."
So, I get it now: You do a long bike on Saturdays, and then run on Sundays to get used to running when you feel like $hit. There's a method to this madness.

Anyway, for yesterday's ride I was comfortable, despite the evil, spring New Mexico winds. I had , and had no lady parts pain. YAY!

This morning, I volunteered at the AtomicMan Duathlon, one of my favorites. My job was to yell out "Stay on your bike please, until you cross the mat." and then yell the number to a guy with a keypad. It went pretty smoothly except for one Ninny who had trouble understanding the phrase, "stay on your bike please, until you go over the mat."

He started to get off, and then I intoned, "stay on your bike, please, until you go over the mat. " Then a bit louder. "Stay--stay on your bike.

ON your bike.

Don't get off, stay on your bike!"

at which point he yelled back, "well, christ, MAKE UP YOUR MIND!"

???

But anyway. Mini-baboo got 2nd in his age group, and Sweet Baboo was head ref: black-and-white stripes and all, prompting me to whisper to him that, yes, I am attracted to men of power: just wait until we get home.

Atomicman is one of the neatest races around. It welcomes the hardy and newcomer alike, with no real cutoff. It's in the mountains near Las Alamos, and has two courses: the little boy (4k-15k-4k) and fat man (10k-25k-8k) but don't let the short distances fool you: there are some hills that will make you almost throw up, and it's at a higher altitude. Mini-baboo is pooped. At the end, though, there's good food and nice people. I've done it twice, and next year I want to do it again.

Oh, and more good news: Not a whisper or murmer from Msr. ITBand this week.

My weekly distances: 159 miles (Bike), 16 miles (Run), 3500 meters (swim)

Yeah, they're low. But believe it or not, they're higher than this time before I did Ironman LooAvul, and also, my run miles are low because I've been trying to heal Msr. ITBand. He seems to be healed now, so my run miles will take a jump this week.

For now, well, I'm just too tired to do anything but lay in bed and feel good about myself.
...

It's all good.

I don't want you to think that all I do is complain. Top Ten Things that made this a good week:

10. I have a renewed feeling of hope from two comfortable bike rides in a row.

9. I still have the residual feeling of goodness that comes with finishing something that I've been putting off finishing.

8. I managed to dodge 8 hours of "SmartBoard" training by having a couple savvy students spend 20 minutes teaching me how to use it.

7. I have the hopeful optimism that, come August, I will not be facing a classroom full of surly teenagers. In case you're wondering, I've taught highly capable and gifted students, and they are a joy to behold, but they unfortunately have surly parents.

6. During my special class of the day today, 6 students were pulled out because they hadn't turned in their registration cards, another 4-5 to meet with counselors they weren't earning enough credit to go to the "big" high school next year, and another 5-6 students to go serve Friday school for various infractions. Some of groups overlapped. The school police officer was still pulling students out to question about the Fire Alarm incident. I was left with 5 quiet, friendly, well-behaved students at the end of the day, and when they finished their work, I let them draw pictures on the SmartBoard.

5. I was informed that yet another obnoxious student will be suspended and thus, yet another class will be taught free of interruptions.

4. I had a nice evening swim workout with Sweet Baboo, who I felt like I rarely got to see this week.

3. I found another, unexpected use for my counseling skills,: the passive, neutral face that I put on when my gang students come to class in rediculous clothes. It wasn't enough the pants so sagging that they have to hold them up with one hand to walk; today, one of them was wearing what appeared to be part of a pair of pantyhose on his head.

2. Tonight, I finished out my week with a nice, leisurely 1500 meter swim and a sweaty spin class. I practiced the modified swim stroke Sweet Baboo taught me and I feel like I use less effort to keep the same pace. I'm going to get faster. I can feel it.

And the number 1 thing:

WeightWatchers informs me that with 1 day left in my week, I have 29 binge points left to blow.

...

It's a 2-fer.

I did go for that run and felt way wonderful afterwards. And mini-Baboo is better now.

You know, I can quickly identify problem kids because when they're absent, the class runs smoothly. Unfortunately - and other teachers can back me on this - those usually are the kids with perfect attendance. They fly under the radar, so that it's hard to pinpoint exactly how they're disrupting class. It's just that when they're gone, things are better. You may know adults like that. Chances are, they have a cluster B personality disorder. But we can't diagnose those until people are at least 18.
But I digress.

It happens that the culprit in Monday's fire alarm stunt was apprehended yesterday, and turned out to be the most obnoxious student in my last class of the day. I'm pretty sure that this is the kid that threw my keys in the trash. I had this kid last year, too, when I taught 8th-grade, and s/he put a ball point pen in my microwave, turned it on, and walked away.

This particular class, by the way, is the class that security guard Tom said to me, "has the worst kids in the school in it." So, "most obnoxious" in this case is highly relative.

So this student is in a buttload of trouble because it turns out that's a FELONY. Most people might not know that because MOST people don't think to do this kind of crap...but now this student is suspended for nine days, and full charges are being pressed. I feel bad for the Mom because she's actually a decent person who has no idea why her kid acts like this. I feel for her.

But it gets even better than that. The person who turned this student in is the second most obnoxious student I've got. And THIS student is, apparently, worried about getting jumped for ratting out the first student, and so has decided not to come back to school.

Yes, school violence is sad. But a peaceful classroom is joyful and liberating with two problem children out of the equation. Today, I actually taught that class. I think they learned it, too. Cool.

Oh, and special note to Cody the Clydesdale: I'm not really a hard liquor drinker, but thanks for the tip. Perhaps it's time to start working on a sugar-free sour/margarita mix. Lets see: Splenda, limes, lemon juice...

...

My day of drama. Mundane, boring drama.

7: am I started working on grading and my planning for the day. I found my connection to the district server was not working, so I had no access to student grades or attendance online. I answered emails to administration about "Day of Silence" on Friday, because some parents were angry about it. (I answer these questions this every year, in response to the letter writing and calling campaigns that "family" organizations embark on every year. Because, you know, I have this evil agenda. I note that they are not teaching, or volunteering. Just bitching. But I digress.)

7:20 I got a phone call BEGGING me to an IEP meeting because a participant didn't show up and and I made the mistake of answering the phone and I'm a complete pushover, so... then at 8:56 I left the meeting and went downstairs to get ready to teach my first class.

9:15 a substitute showed up and announced she was my sub "for your IEP meeting at 9:30," For 25 minutes I attempted to show how to graph an equation by finding the intercepts. General education teachers are required by law to be at every IEP meeting, whether or not the child has a general education, or even if the teacher even knows the child. THANK YOU, No Child Left Behind - at 9:40 I left my class and went to my 9:30 meeting.

10:15 I came back to class, and was told that mini-Baboo had called because he was sick. I said I'd call back during my lunch. Then I started teaching my third block how to graph an equation using the intercepts.

11:15 - I ate lunch, and forgot to call Mini-Baboo, because I am a bad, bad, mommy. I did call the people who want to interview me for a counselor position. They can see me at 12:15 May 1st, the day we are supposed to leave for the Collegiate Peaks trail run.

11:30 I dashed off another quick email begging the technologist to fix my computer.

12:15 - Mini-Baboo called and begged me to take him home, with a headache, fever etc. I found a sub, sprinted to my car, drove to the high school, then called BACK to work to have the sub to take my keys off the whiteboard where they would certainly be taken by students, and took Mini-Baboo home.
Where I fed him stuff to help him feel better and put him to bed. Mini-Baboo informed me that his award ceremonly for JROTC was the evening on May 1st, the day I was supposed to leave for the Collegiate Peaks Trail run. My blood pressure skyrocketed as I sped back to work completely stressed about where I was going to be on May 1st.

12:46 my 4th block class protested their new seating arrangement. I informed them that with, or without a security guard present, this is where they would sit. Then I attempted to teach them how to graph an equation by using the intercepts.

1:15 Class was interrupted as a student was escorted out by a security guard, because she pulled the fire alarm yesterday. Yeeeeesss, that's right. There was a fire alarm yesterday and the whole school watched as firemen entered my classroom to search for a non-existent fire.
(I secretly worried that my lack of access to the district server was a sign that I was being fired for lack of classroom management, because that's the way I roll: All paranoid and stuff.)

2:00 I confided to the ASL interpreter that I wasn't sure how I was supposed to do ALL THIS CRAP. She sympathetically offered to make photocopes for me, which is so not her job. (I accepted.)

2:15 Outlook reminded me that I had a 2:30 meeting. In room 226. AND in room 529. $hit.

3:15 my first meeting was over. I called the counselor interview people to get a room number for the interview and was informed that the interiew was on May 9th, not May 1st.

3:15 I went to my other appointment, where I tutored a friend's son in using the quadratic equation, the meaning of the descriminant, etc.

4:00 I took my friend's son to the public library, and went home. I looked at the calendar and realized that we're leaving on May 2nd, not May 1st. My blood pressure finally came down.

A small margarita is 5 weightwatchers' points. Not worth it.

At 7, I'll go for a run. Or maybe 8.

17 more days until final exams. tick...tick...tick...tick...

...

I'm Done!

I started the program for professional counseling in 2004. I finished the coursework in 1 year, and spent a year doing a part-time internship. At the end of that year, I took my written comprehensive test.
Then I just stalled for 2 years.

First it was because I was disgusted with the fact that in my district, I have now applied for ten counseling positions and have landed 1 interview. (5 of those positions, as I think I've mentioned before, were at the school where I teach, and eight of those positions haven't garnered an acknowledgement that I even applied.

Then I was kind of waylaid by my father's suicide, and also training for Ironman Louisville.

Then it was just kind of an apathetic laziness.


Finally I said to myself, Jeez, if I can drag my butt across the finish line at Louisville, then I can write a paper.

Thanks for all the encouragement!

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