Ethical Dilemma

In this, the year 2007, we are all well versed in the finer points of Criag's list. It's the source of apartments, jobs, all sorts of encounters...We also know that we are not supposed to actually trust anyone. Only accept cash, don't deal with anyone outside of the area, etc, etc. Somehow I hit the ethical jackpot with my car ad. I have three people interested in my Honda-a Buddhist hospice worker, a teacher from the mid-west, and a doctor from Kuala Lumpur. I had really nice conversations with all of them. Now, I have ethical dilemma. How do you choose between the nice man from Malaysia, the Bronx teacher, or the hospice worker?

PS The doctor is a new driver...new like his license is one month old. It was a little nerve wracking to take him on his test drive. But, I'm sure he'll be fine.

Reality TV

I am late to the game on the whole reality TV thing. I watched an episode of the first season of Survivor, thought I was witnessing the destruction of humanity and stopped watching. But, now it's back. I justify it by saying it's research for my new life. I'm moving to LA...they are all shot in LA. Reality TV is research for my life to come.

It sometimes makes me nervous. I am not like the people on the TV-a professional tanner/rock star/hairstylist. What will the people in LA think of me? I think I'll just need to watch some more TV to find out.

PS Countdown to LA - 21 days.

Junk

As I continue the packing extravaganza, I am amazed at the amount of junk I have. Old papers. Books I will never read again. Containers. All of those will meet their end in the shredder or yard sale. Then there is the knick-knack issue. I have tons of little things without a use. I am not sure how so many of these things became a part of my life. Right now, I am not a fan. I'm actually kind of amazed at the lack of sentimental connection I have to these things--I'm excited for the opportunity to leave these things behind and have a literal clean slate.

I am hoping that this move can help me remember to let things go. And inspire me to be a regular yard sale holder. Or just have a level of quality control that seems to be lacking in my life up to now.

Moving to LA

It's happening. I'm moving to LA. More boxes have been packed. A plan has been made for the pre-garage sale activities. Although my life in LA is still missing some elements (a job, a car, etc.), I think it will be good.

PS I started this last night prior to packing the boxes. It was a much different blog at that time. Much more freaked out. Packing boxes is good for me.

My Desk

When I was 11, I asked my parents for a desk. I was graduating elementary school and felt I needed some place to do my school work. 2 years later, an antique roll top desk became a part of my world. Most 13 year-olds don't have major furniture. I did. I love it-it was almost big enough for me to lay on top of and I had no idea a desk like this existed.

Several years later, I graduated college and my parents no longer wanted custody of my desk. It's 50 inches wide, 50 inches high and 34 inches deep. It's huge. My sisters needed the space. So I moved the desk to DC, moved it again when I moved to a new neighborhood, then it came back to NY, then to Astoria and finally landed in it's current home. I have squished it into a galley like bedroom in a basement apartment, watched as two strong people huffed it up to my 3rd floor apartment, and felt a growing sense of guilt as I continued to ask my dad to help me take it apart and schlep it to my new home. Well, the only help I provide is with the draws. I am dangerous when it comes to the real heavy parts.

Now that I'm moving to LA, I've decided it's time to let my desk go-despite the love in my heart. It has become an albatross around my neck, making it incredibly clear that I do not have a lifestyle that supports an antique roll top desk. I'm a mover. My desk needs a home with it's own room. I hope who ever gets it next loves it as much as I do and gives me enough money to be a substantial part of a down payment on a new car. [The Honda is going, too. I just see that as a chance to upgrade to power windows rather than loosing a part of my history.]

English Language Learners

My life is filled with multi-lingual people. The majority of my students speak another language at home. I live in a place where the boat that a person is fresh off of docks. I hear more languages than I can place on my mile walk to the subway. It's my anthropological dream.

Being surrounded by so many who are at different stages of learning English often brings unexpected dialogue to my world. I was supposed to meet my landlord's son at my apartment after school. I ran into him as he was leaving. I told him that I was sorry I missed him, he replied, "I miss you, too." Such a sweet sentiment kind of misdirected.

Prior to the missing conversation, my student had a more difficult moment with the nuance of language. While he was waiting for the bus, saw me as I returned to the lunchroom and shouted, "She kicked me in the [insert word for a part that is normally covered by a bathing suit]!" He quickly repeated it to anyone who would listen. I then looked at the guidance counselor and said, "You have this one, right?" Then my student gave me a hug goodbye and sat down for a little conversation about the words you can use in school and the ones you cannot.

29 Days...and counting.

I am moving from one coast to the other in exactly 29 days. Goodbye rainy Sundays...hello sunny everyday. I am sure that my world will be filled with all sorts of differences--hikes, sunscreen all year round, hobbies rather than school work, HBO, Guitar Hero, shorts...Dave. I am excited.

I have at least 30 days of a sublet all worked out, have let go of my Mini dreams, and had a great interview with a placement agency. 5 boxes of my most important books have been mailed. My favorite mixing bowls and the shoes I wanted to wear this weekend already live in CA. If I keep doing a little bit each day, I think I'll be ready for my life on the left coast very soon. Whoo hoo.

Moving

Today has been ripe with mishaps. I'm attempting to be uber-productive and have hit some speed bumps.

• I attempted to finalize my teaching certification and the server went down in the middle of it all (this was the second time this happened to me).
• I somehow created a 58,000 page spread-sheet. Opening and closing this sucker caused my iBook to move at the pace of a PC!
• It is possible I never changed my car's title to NYS and am kind of freaking out about what that means as I attempt to sell it in New York.
  

In an attempt to focus on the positive, here's a list of good things:

• I'm going to have a phone interview on Sunday for a job placement place in LA.
• I'm going to my family's house tomorrow for a dinner with a long-lost cousin.
• I've started the packing process!!
• I now plan on having people ferry my most precious things as checked luggage rather than paying for shipping. This means (5 trips from NY to LA) times (2 bits of checked luggage) = 10 boxes! Whoo hoo.
  

Ok, I'm going to fill another box. I think it's time to move away from the computer.

Verbatim

Background: I have a myspace so I can see what my baby sister is up to. Well, I used to spy on her but then she hid all the good stuff. A while ago, she made me switch from whatever the default was for the background to something blue. As of yesterday, that background was no longer acceptable. Today, she designed me a new layout. Of course, since I don't go on myspace now that I can't check up on her, it seems a little a little unnecessary. But, whatevs.

Event: Today, baby sister was throwing down hard. And, I didn't even do anything. In fact, I said thanks. This is what I got:
"...you are not too good with HTML so you might have to wait until you're around me to do this stuff."

PS: By stuff, she means cut and paste.

moving

I am getting ready for my move in some very important ways.

Number one, reality TV marathon. After watching Dancing with the Stars, I stumbled across a Run's House marathon. I am not sure if PVision realized he was starting me on a very bad path when he encouraged me to get TV. Even though I'm almost positive it's making me less capable of complex sentences, I'm enjoying my TV-habit very much.

Number 2...scanning the interweb to decide if the folks sell their furniture with things on it or not on it to try to get an idea for my pictures. The answer is easy for the big antique desk--clean off the junk. Nobody needs to know about my desk system. But, it's less clear with the bookshelf. Do I leave in the books for that book-y feeling? People my be so taken with my thematic arrangement of books that they must buy my bookshelf.

Number three..well, there is no number three. Number three should be packing up or getting rid of junk. The yard sale is June 9. Next weekend is going to need a number three.

Thoughts

In a day consumed by very serious thoughts, I've also had some of my infamous deep thoughts.

• Jello pudding comes with Splenda. My no sugar ever world just got easier.
• In my life, I have lived in Washington DC, NYC, and am about to move to LA. It's like I'm doing some type of major city tour. Kind of amazing for a person who likes the hikes.
  
• You can watch an entire episode of Dancing with the Stars on fast forward, only playing it at normal speed for 10 minutes and get the entire experience.
  
• RIP GGs. My sisters ate poptarts as they watched.
  
• CA is now my next big thing. And, it's big. Different than anything ever before. I like it.
  

Done

I've finished. My thesis is written. My poster is (somewhat obsessively) arranged. I've rediscovered artist spray mount and only had a minor misfire mishap. I'm done.

Really done.

Three years of teaching. 48 credits of all sorts of classes. One very big thesis. And, now I'm done. I'm entitled to a new degree. I am eligible for my credentials to teach.

As I type I am so mindful of the fact that all of those things seem less important than the fact that I've found something that has changed my world. I am now a teacher. I know this because I am overcome with joy at the fact that one of my students moved from the beginning of first grade reading to the end of second grade over the course of this year. ...because the handwritten cards I get become my treasures. ...and because of so many other reasons, too many to write here.

While I'm happy that I've fulfilled my requirements for my Masters of Science of Education. I am so excited for the time I will spend learning my craft. I think it will take a lifetime.

The Final Countdown

I am a big fan of the countdown widget. My dashboard currently has 3. Days until I hand in my thesis (3), weekdays until the end of elementary school (34), and days until I move to CA (51). I've had some big news on all fronts:

Thesis--It's written! All 45 pages provide keen insight into the impact technology can have on the literacy development of 3rd and 4th graders who have disabilities. Well, that's a bit of an overstatement. But, it did provide interesting learning and I think I'll continue to use my intervention in my classroom. Plus--it's written! I'm so close to being finished with this round of grad school.

End of Elementary School--I am getting all sentimental about leaving my students. My kindergartners of two years ago are now very tall second graders who read beautifully. My current class is filled with sweet children who are wonderful. I will miss them all. But, I am excited about teaching in a different environment. I want to be poetry in motion when I teach. I don't know if I'd ever be able to experience that in my chaotic environment.

California or Bust--I've made plans to visit my folks in DC, have tickets for my sisters to spend time with me in CA this summer, and am getting mentally prepared to sell my belongings. After a conversation with a friend last night, I've also decided that I should document the unique nature of my current neighborhood because I'm not sure I'll believe that it is the way it really is once I'm gone. She told me about a store called "Temptation--for kids" and encouraged me to take a picture of the scary dentist awning. So, here it is--part one of my photo documentary of the place I've called home for 3 years.

Guilt

I am sitting on the couch, watching TV, attempting to stay as still as possible. I am five days from handing in my thesis. Last night, I was up way past my teacher bedtime attempting to write enough of my paper so I could give it to my editor friend today.

Now I'm practically incapacitated. I cannot move. My brain hurts. Even though my paper is close to done, I am still feeling overwhelmed with the feeling that I should be doing more...despite my complete lack of ability for locomotion.

I can't wait to be finish school and get to enjoy free time.

On the other hand, one of the unexpected benefits of being this tired is a whole lot of cheesy. I am currently experiencing some serious cheese issues.

The walk

Tonight, as the insanity of the thesis hit a new high, my roommate and I decided to pull ourselves from our respective laptops and take a 30 minute walk around the neighborhood. A neighborhood walk in Queens usually brings some very unexpected things. It's just the nature of the borough. After a few run ins with big dogs that made my heart rate go up, we turned onto a block we don't normally find ourselves on during a walk. Half way up the block, I thought I saw fireworks in someones front yard. I had to walk a few more yards to realize that there were not fireworks but rather fountains, lit with very colorful lights, shooting water high into the air. It's as if these homeowners are stepping up their game--they have obviously put those blow up snow globes and gigantic Easter rabbits to shame.

PS Where do people find these things?

Whap! Bam! Bif!

This morning, as I was putting my laundry away, I managed to hit myself right under my eye with a coat hanger--one of those with clips on the end. In a split second, the far side of the coat hanger arced towards my eye, landing with a thud. I am now the proud owner of a little under eye bruise.

I am sure this will be funny very soon. Right now, it just hurts.

Bullet Points

*My professional Development at school brought some learning. My issue with getting things done is due to a weakness in the production controls of my attention. Some people call this procrastination. I have been able to justify my procrastination by being a little productive on all the wrong things. The lack of order is a temporal-sequential issue.

*Looking up apartments on Craigslists has become a new hobby (please see justification of procrastination information above). LA's Craigslist is crazy. I have seen things like sublet a great apartment (shared bedroom, on TWThs) or $1000/month for a great guest house--from 9:30-3:30 weekdays.

*My thesis is due in 14 days. I am getting a little batty. I have 93 pages of field notes. I wish I had a ruler so I could measure it in inches rather than pages.

*I'm at the point where I am looking at all of my things and trying to judge if it will make the cut for the cross country trek. When I moved to AZ, I just left college and I basically only had books and clothes. Now, I look at things and wonder, "How much would you cost to ship."

*Listening to Elvis Costello's When I was Cruel is the perfect soundtrack for the day.

The Year of the Cold

I like to call 2007 "The year of the cold." At this moment, I am again reminded that an over developed interest in q-tips + teeth that feel like they are loose = I have a sinus infection. Because this is not the first time this has happened to me, I attempted to figure out why I am a germ magnet. Two major themes emerge:

Variable A-Kids. I am not one of those teachers who have managed to develop a personal space bubble. In fact, I think that I may be walking around with a sign that reads, "If you need a hug, I've got a hug" on my back. On Friday, I told the children in my class that I was sick and they should not touch me. At the end of the day, several students' internal struggle with this was visible as they tried (and ultimately failed) not to hug me goodbye. Two tried to keep their feet far away as they leaned in...But, most just attempted to use stealth to avoid the germs and surprised me with a quick goodbye. Sneaking up on germs has no scientific evidence of working to avoid colds but my students do not seem to care.

Variable B-My Thesis. I am 16 days away from handing in my thesis. Each Tuesday, after my 7:30am-9:30pm day, I am run down. I am also loaded down with another phase of work to do for my thesis class. I am always behind in the work I need to do because by Wednesday afternoon, I'm sick. The idea of sitting and doing 2 more hours of work after work each night is much too daunting, thus causing the cycle of undone work/run down me to continue.

Findings
I think variable A is reacting to the catalyst of variable B. The cycle of school and contact with germy kids creates a situation where I sound like a man and have a red, red nose (both were observations by my class last Friday).

However, all of these factors will change after 41 days (end of elementary school) and 64 days (end of NY residency) where another study can be conducted in order to triangulate the findings of this phase of research.

Discussion
Based on the evidence, it is clear that I should invest in anti-bacterial stuff and never take class again.

Honda vs. Prius

Sometime in the near future, I will probably be buying a new car. I love the little Honda that could but I want something more. I've been preoccupied by the Mini--Little, yellow (or whatever color I want), etc. etc. But, there is a bit of guilt. I should get a hybrid to be a better person, reduce my carbon footprint...and just be a better person. Today, I learned that might not be so. According to the most recent Dwell, "50-60% of the lifetime energy consumption of a car goes into its manufacture and shipping." Turns out a 5,000 MPG Mini might be in my future!

What size are your shoes?

Somewhere in the middle of my fair to middlin day, I realized that my feet hurt. After brainstorming and rejecting a few situations that could create foot pain (too much walking while teaching, too thick socks, etc.), I pulled off my shoe and took a peek around. It turns out my shoes were a half-size too small. My shoe size has been an 8 and 1/2 since high school. Somehow, I overlooked the whole shoe size thing when I bought them.

On my drive home from class, I was taking with my mother. At some point, I moved my the back of my foot under the leaver for the trunk. In a split second, I managed to open my trunk with my foot while doing 60 on a major highway.

This made me shout, "I opened my trunk with my foot because my shoes are too small."

My mother was understandably confused.