This whole website editing issue thing is getting old. Or I'm too old to deal with it. I almost miss the days when my reports had to be turned in without errors and the dumb ballpoint pen eraser thing didn't work.
I have a work request out to the people who know better than I what to do to make this not annoying. Who knows when they will respond. It has become like fights with Husband: I'm pissed. I'm having the arguments for why he screwed up in my head and he has no clue that there's anything wrong because he hasn't read the passive-totally-agressive note I left him on his pillow.
On a happy joy note: the Pest Guy came yesterday and sprayed the heck out of every nook and cranny in the house. We appear to be critter free - for now. It's the little things...
Weebly and I are fighting. It doesn't help that I have a migraine and it's stupid. I'll post later when it stops deleting my shit.
I should probably still be in timeout. Still having mean people thoughts but trying not to let them consume me.
This latest spiral started Monday with an afterschool theatre class that was, and I’m not mincing words here, horrific. There were parts during the day when I worried for the safety of children – and not because of me. There were parts after class when I worried for the safety of teachers – and not because of me. (I never knew a rat-tail comb could be used as a weapon.) It was a very long few hours with a few moments of utter horror and shock and very little joy. I left the school worried for these children, worried for the world and feeling totally helpless.
Then Tuesday I spent the day at a UPS delivery headquarters with a pair of twins learning about the process, exploring the trucks and honking the horn. I got to have one on one playtime with a three-year-old “I’m a PS driver” in his cardboard truck with my hastily drawn on lights and logos and steering wheels. I could see the hope in the darkness. But when I tried to write about it, all I came up with was sad darkness and mean kicking people thoughts. Hence timeout.
And then Wednesday night, I opened the door to let Tigger the Dog out for her evening pee and this guy was on the wall right near the doorbell.
Now I love all spiders can do for us; the bugs they eat, charlottes web etc. but, this sucker? Not a fan. And having him that close to the space under our front door that’s perfect for brick sized spiders to crawl into, not a fan of that either. And what's even more terrifying than seeing him at night next to the front door while I’m barefoot? Opening the door the next morning and not seeing him there at all! Where did he go? Is he inside, hiding in a plant or couch cushion waiting for the perfect opportunity to crawl into my hair? Or did he decide that the screaming ladies house was not a place he wanted to visit and exit stage left?
These are the questions that cause weird jump-squealing at dog hairballs and strange shadows followed by Tigger the Dog Chewbacca whines and my laughing myself silly over my scared self.
It doesn’t help that we’re currently under a stinkbug infestation. The suckers are flying all over the house. We're catching and taking out two, three at a time. Yesterday, Husband pulled the vent fan off from over the stove and there were about fifty hanging out in there. Some dead ones because he had to demonstrate that there was something in there first by putting on the fan so I could hear the flap thud squish first but most of them still crawling. They’re called stinkbugs for a reason. I guess we can quit blaming the dog now.
Anyway, my timeout and mean people mood makes me want to tell stories that make me laugh so here’s one about a friend I just met. I’ll call him Bob.
Once upon a time, Bob went on a blind date with a girl. Things were going well. They found each other amusing and attractive and the date progressed from dinner to kissing outside her front door. And then evolved from kissing outside her front door to kissing inside her front hallway. It was going very well. He was pleased. She was pleased. He was in the mood. She was in the mood. It was looking very promising for them both. She pulled away to look into his eyes, her hand stroking his face lightly… and spotted the spider crawling up the wall behind him.
“EEEEEEEK! SPIDER!" She shrieked, pointing and shaking her finger at the wall. "DO SOMETHING!!!"
So my friend, Bob, did something. He took one look at that spider and he left. Quickly. Just turned around, without a word to the woman he’d just been kissing, the woman he really liked, and walked out that front door. Leaving her stunned, the spider still on the wall.
Somewhere, she is telling this story and Bob doesn’t come out in a good light. But Bob, Bob is perfectly happy with how this went all down. Bob doesn’t do spiders. Ever.
Today, I’m going to be more like Bob. But my spiders are mean people. I’m not going to do mean people. And I’m going to try to not do mean people kicking thoughts.
Odds aren’t good on that one working but I’m going to give it a shot.
Also, still haven’t found the spider… Moving house might actually have to happen.
... until the need to kick, bite or cry has passed.
There are a lot of people I would like to kick. Or bite. Or punch... so I might be here a long while.
This is an unfinished thought. I wasn’t going to post today because I can’t quite get my words in order but Husband guilt/nag/dared me so this will be unfinished but it will be posted. So there.
I start working with a new group of kids today, teaching theatre basics in an afterschool program at a school that’s under threat of closure. There’s nothing like the fear of failure to inspire a creative workspace for children. NOT. It’s frustrating that in this day and age, seeing the creative arts as an essential part of the learning process is still an anomaly – especially when schools and children are judged on test scores. Like theatre doesn’t enhance problem solving, language and independent thought and…. Ugh. I could go on but that’s not what this blurt is about… read this if you want facts
Part of my teaching plan always includes a brief discussion about the rules for class, things we should and shouldn’t do to have a happy learning experience. I usually write a few key ones down and ask them to add to the list, often having them write them down (enhancing language, spelling, problem solving, independent thinking etc...) My basic rules are to listen, follow directions, play safe, respect yourself and others and my favorite, make good choices. Simple rules that cover a broad range and, when added to by the class, form great boundaries for a creative class.
This year, I started adding the consequences to the list and having them expand on what those consequences might be. I find that kids don’t often seem think about what might happen if they do whatever it is they shouldn’t. I don’t have a solid reason why. Could be the lack of positive influences and the need to get attention, regardless of how. Could be the lack of parenting parameters or could just be that the consequences for bad behavior just aren’t as dire as they were when we were children. Nothing says ‘make a better choice’ than the threat of a beating from a nun.
All I know is that while I was lying awake at 3am thinking about the list I had to write for class today and I realized I’ve not been applying the basic classroom rules I’m asking them to follow to my own life. I have thoroughly disregarded the whole ‘respect yourself and others’ and ‘make good choices’ rules…
And that’s it. That’s all I have formed in my brain right now - that I have a problem with respect and choices and knowing my own worth. They say admitting you have a problem is half the battle… Yeah. BULL!!! That half isn’t doing a thing to fix the problem or writing a blurt…
My name is ej. I'm a girl. I say that because with the short hair and the short initials, folks aren't always sure. More brilliant insights to who I am in About me