employed hipster: now with 50% more hip.

Geriatric Retail Therapy

This morning I was feeling down and couldn't quite place the feeling.  Work has been pretty hectic, the weather has been shitastically cold, and the big 2-7 is looming on the horizon - all factors collaborating towards the production of an unfavorably nasty mood for yours truly.  So, like any good little aging hipster, I set off for the mall to purchase a new pair of skinny jeans and roll my eyes at the teenagers congregating in the food court while simultaneously envying their care free existences and unconventional dye jobs.

While I am happy to say that I did locate the desired skinnys (at Pac Sun because I am secretly 12), I also managed to purchase a few pairs of sensible work pants - ie: SLACKS.  It's a sad day when retail therapy involves the purchasing of slacks.  Even sadder is the fact that I actually enjoyed the purchasing of said pants and when I got home proceeded to try them on for the lady who also says they are quite fetching.

Damn we're old.

Silver linings:

1. Upon recognizing the name of my employer on my sweet work-issued fleece, the employee at Express said, "Oh!  The ________ School!  What grade are you in?!"

2. I also bought these on the off chance that I might be caught in a dance off against a 7th grader.

 

They were on sale, I swear.

Resolutions.

Happy 2010 intarnetz! 

So I told the children that my resolution for the New Year was to no longer make resolutions, but I was just kidding.  Instead, my resolution is to complete digress from the whole trajectory of adulthood thing and devolve to Ms. Employed Hipster circa 2004.  I will do this by completely immersing myself in the social media forum that was once the epicenter of my universe because I realize that I have many a topic to discuss.  I also realize that being an internet junky kind of made me happy and self-indulgent pontification is kind of my steeze.  Topics for discussion will include:

1.       Upcoming trip to the NoLala for Mardi Gras v. 3.0.

2.       Countdown to Lockdown: Wedding Planning Edition.

3.       Tinies are Funny.

4.       Why getting old is the suck.

In celebration I also include, for your viewing pleasure, a photo of the frozen swan boat pond in Boston Common, complete with suggestive slide marks made by blissfully unaware children and parents.

The Grand Duchy of Jackson

In response to "if you ran your own country, what would the government look like?"

JW: I would be president.  Tito Jackson would be vice president.  Mayor Menino would be there doing...something.

Student Phone Calls.

Because I work at a psychotic no-excuses charter school, I am required to give out my phone number to students in case they have homework questions.  While I don't mind phone calls from 11 year olds at all, they typically come on Sunday nights, and often have nothing to do with the assigned homework.  Example:

Me: Hello?

JM: Hi, it's James.  I wanted to let you know that the Alcatraz special is on at 9 pm on Wednesday.

Me (sounding confused): Ok...

JM: Wait, is this Ms. D?

Me: Nope, it's Ms. EH.

JM: OH!  Sorry, I meant to call Ms. D.  Can you call her and let her know about the Alctraz special?  I'm cleaning my room.  It's a mess.

Me: No problem.  Bye.

------

Me: Hey D.

JD: Yes?

Me: The Alcatraz special is on at 9 on Wednesday, James called and wanted me to pass that along.

JD: He already told me that!  He called at 9 am on Saturday, but I didn't answer because I was trying to sleep in.  He then called at 9:15 and at 9:45.  I finally said, screw it, and called him back.

Me: Well...now you know.

JD: Gee, thanks.

And how exactly did Jawad check my order for deliciousness?  I can deal with a slice missing...but finger holes in my pizza are totally unacceptable.

Sweat Stinks.

K.R.,easily of the sweatiest children I've ever seen in my life, stops me mid-lesson today.  I acknowledge his hand by nodding, to which he replies "ARE YOU OK?!" while pointing at my Montana sized pit-stains with genuine interest and concern.

My reply, "Yeah...K...but sometimes I get nervous."

He nods sympathetically, "that happens to me too."

I feel awesome.

fin.

Resistance is Futile.

Select Responses to the prompt "If you were a Jewish citizen living during the 1940s, what items would you need to stage a resistance against the Nazis?"

TH: Grenade launcher.

KM: People.

JW: A plan.

BO: Knives.

IJ: A hiding place.

AR: A donut.

Select Responses to the prompt "If you were a Jewish citizen living during the 1940s, what feelings or situations would keep you from resisting the Nazis?"

MH: Seeing my family killed.

GD: Guilt.

KB: Having to kill someone.

GV: Getting killed.

CF: Not knowing what will happen.

AR: Forgetting my donut.

A few killer nuggets...

In response to the prompt, "Top Ten Reasons to go to College" -

"You can wear pajamas to class." - MA

"To get a girlfriend." - BC

In response to "Dinosaurs are extinct - fact or opinion?"

"OPINION!"

Today's BEEFY Question:

Do tigers have school?

Despite my total lack of posting since starting my crazy new job, I am terribly happy this blog is here.  It's especially useful for days like today when I want to bang my head against the wall and weep because it reminds me that this feeling is not new and that it shall pass.

This time two years ago I started my first teaching job and I was awful.  I had no control over my classroom, no control over student learning, and pretty limited control over myself.  Today, while it was rough, was nothing compared to my first days of teaching in the NoLala.  Sure my kids were a little nuts, but that's to be expected after a day without their teacher who was out with the flu.  Sure my kids are having a hard time understanding me, but I'm also having a hard time understanding them.  Things are being lost in translation, but we've only been writing this life chapter for 10 days and things are sure to get better.

While I was convalescing yesterday, a student in my homeroom refused to do work.  When I spoke to her today she said that she was "wicked upset" that I was out.  I apologized but noted that I was sick and that didn't excuse her from work.  She then looked up at me with her sad little eyes and said, "no Ms. EH, I wasn't upset AT you...I was upset WITHOUT you.  You're the best part of my day."

So I might be a disaster, and I might not be a great teacher for these kids YET...I know that there's one little girl, troubled as she is (though aren't we all), that needs me.  She needs me to put a smile on her face with my antics, and she needs me to inspire her to do the right thing.

Now...if only I could reach the other 94 kids...then I'd have something.