"How did the dvd player get hooked back up to the TV?"
And that is a relief. It's a long story, but I did get a teaching job. The past few weeks have been a blur, and the full story is actually hard to believe. Nevertheless, seemingly insurmountable obstacles eventually fell into place. I am now an elementary teacher, and I am teaching something other than English to boot. It's definitely not the path I ever thought I would traverse, but it's the path I am on now regardless - and it's a fun adventure so far. The best part about this adventure is that I am working with an *amazing* group of people and for an *amazing* school.
Thank you so much for sending your positive thoughts and prayers my way. Let the adventure begin!
a cross between fishing, Disneyland and speed dating.
Last week I flew into Austin to attend a regional job fair. The reasons for going to all that trouble are simple: we would consider moving back to Austin and vicinity, and, unlike in California, there aren't 20,000 people competing for jobs in education. Although I could be wrong about that. I knew that over 800 people attended this job fair the previous year, and when I drove up to the building and saw that people were parking in the empty field across the street, I figured that that number was about double for this year. Nothing says "fair" like parking in a muddy field and praying that you won't need to elicit the help of Bubba and his half ton truck to pull you out of the mud at the end of the day.
I arrived at a quarter until 10 - fifteen minutes before the job fair began - only to find that I had to stand in a line that stretched from the front door all the way to the parking lot. When I finally got inside, I had to stand in more lines. Lines that circled half the room. Lines that took 30 minutes to get to the front. And then when I got to the front, I had a seconds to cast my expertise and virtues into the glassy eyed administrator or human resources person who made a few notes and placed my resume into one of several stacks of resumes each about ream of paper thick. It was daunting.
I overheard a girl say she flew in from Bend, Oregon, so I'm guessing there were many other people who, like me, flew in from out of town just to stand in line after line after line for the minute possibility that we might impress someone in 30 seconds or less.
All in all, I applied for jobs in about 8 different school districts. No bites yet, but I'll keep dangling my line in here and there regardless.
"if you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all." I've been trying to live that for the past three months since my husband and I were both laid off (well, if I'm going to be completely honest, my husband was "let go"). Ironically, we both were put on notice the same week in March and our jobs ended the same week in May. Go figure. We've been job hunting since March, but no luck so far. I attended a job fair yesterday, so I'm hoping to get some bites there. Next week we move out of our rental home because we don't have an income to sustain that rental rate. Who am I kidding. We don't have an income! So while technically we will be homeless (at least in the eyes of the law), we have a place to stay with friends and family until we both find work.
Funny - never in a million years did I think I would find myself in this place. As a matter of fact, when I earned my Masters in Ed. all those years ago, I distinctly remember my husband and I saying to each other in an effort to justify the cost, "teaching is a great career - they will always need teachers!" Turns out they don't need teachers after all. At least not in California.
"We have no food! We have no jobs! Our pet's heads are fallin' off!"
~Lloyd from Dumb and Dumber
Only our pet's heads haven't fallen off. Yet. And we still have food.
So three weeks ago I was RIF'd. (Reduction In Force) I feel like everyone knows since it's been my reality for the past month, but I realized when I looked back at past posts that I *haven't* mentioned it. Weird.
So here is how it went down. On March 8, a fellow teacher (who was also RIF'd) called me earlier that day and said, "She's calling us in today to give us the news." By 1:00 PM, the principal's secretary called and let me know I had a 3:30 appointment. I was glad to have a few hours to prepare myself, although knowing what was coming was sort of distracting.
Later that afternoon, I headed down for my appointment. Funny how I wanted to be on time even though it really didn't matter if I was on time or not. Of course the entire school was abandoned at 3:30 on a Friday, but there I was walking the gauntlet to her office. The newly fired vice-principals (yes, as in "plural" - all three got the ax) gave me knowing, sympathetic looks. As soon as I walked into the principal's office, she was overwhelmed with emotion. Oddly, I found myself comforting *her.* She said, teary eyed, "I didn't realize how difficult this would be. You've been a fabulous addition to our school, and I want you to know how much I appreciate what you've done for our kids in and out of the classroom..." Yadda, yadda, yadda. "I'm sorry to have to give you this." And then she handed me the "Your services are not required for the 2010-2011 school year" letter.
And that was that.
I know I was RIF'd last year, but this experience was completely different. Not only did I get the letter *directly* from the principal this year, but I also had to sign for a copy of the letter that I received in the mail the next day. Last year, 80 teachers were RIF'd, and 40+ teachers were cut. This year, 91 teachers have been RIF'd so far. And they closed a middle school. That's bad news for me because those middle school teachers will bump me. So my chances of getting my job back are slim to none. Ah, seniority! Just when I was about to be tenured in this district, too. Bummer.
The great thing is that all of my supervisors have written fantabulous letters of recommendation for me. And, I still have me degree and certification in two states. Now if I can get my job applications in before the 24,000 other RIF'd teachers from California beat me to it...
P.S. I turned 40 yesterday. Never expected "40" to look like this!
...to get a child the help he or she needs in school. Really, it shouldn't. And, it's sad to say, I've spent much of my time and energy these past few months battling it out with the special education department at my daughter's new school. KJ has something that functions like dyslexia and/or dysgraphia. But my daughter is very confident and is a dedicated and determined student, so, ironically, it is because of those desirable qualities that we have a problem...
I could give you a play by play of the last two IEP meetings (IEP = Individual Education Plan - the document that states what the school must do for my child because she needs special education services), but there is not enough space here to give you the dirty details. What I will tell you is that California, and in particular - this school district - makes it very difficult for students with a general "learning disability" to get the services they need so that they are successful in both the short and long term.
What you should know is that in order to qualify for special ed., a student must 1. have a discrepancy between the student's IQ and performance (performance = test scores from tests administered by the special ed. teacher and a school psychologist). In addition, 2. the student's educational performance is considered (educational often is equated with academics, and they often refer to grades for that). Finally, it must be determined (at least in California) that 3. there is a processing disorder. As I mentioned, my daughter is a good student - she always has been. Even though she gets frustrated and cries and spends twice as much time working on assignments as everyone else, she somehow manages to earn As and Bs. Still, if you look at her writing, you can see that there is a problem...
Without further adieu, the highlights (or the "low" lights - which is the case here):
Meeting one:
"Get busy living, or get busy dying." ~ Andy Dufresne, from Shawshank Redemption
How I got busy living today:
My Fuggs are not fugly. But they are warm. And they are fuggs. No doubt about that. The tell-tale sign is that the sole of the shoe is the reverse pattern of a real Ugg - as if someone bought a real pair of Uggs and used the sole of the shoe to create a manufacturing mold by pressing each shoe into wet plaster.
...and the product arrived safely from *China*. Actually, the package is waiting at the post office as I'll need to sign for it. Ah, the sweet smell of capitalist consumerism! The product may be conterfeit, but they do pay attention to some details...such as making sure that my fake product is delivered properly.
Looks like my Fuggs are here!
...a friend found the great "deal" online, and she passed the web address on to me. Name brand sheepskin boots for half the retail price. Right then and there I should have been suspicious. But, I must confess, all that morning I had been admiring her *real* pair of tall chestnut sheep fur (okay - wool - whatever) lined boots. That was my second mistake. My first mistake was to spend most of the previous night shivering outdoors at a football game. The ol' Converse left my feet exposed to the elements, and by the end of the evening I could have used my feet to ice down a Popsicle. Mistake number three was to think that somehow the hard to believe prices were for legit merchandise. So after I made the secured payment and received the confirmation email from a company that was spelled in Chinese (a company name never mentioned anywhere on the web site), I knew I had been scammed. Of course no one from the company responded to my emails to "cancel the order." As desperate as I was to undo the undo-able, I even considered translating my request into Chinese and emailing that. But they probably outsource anyway, so I abandoned that plan. Now I wait patiently for my order of Fuggs to arrive, and I will be glad when they do come because that will mean that I'm not a total idiot. Then I can hide them in the corner of the closet next to my "Roldex" watch and "Guccli" handbag - a shrine to the demise of capitalism - while I wait for the paypal dispute to be resolved.
Don't answer that.
A week ago, I lost my "bookmarks toolbar" after a recent Firefox update. I spent at least an hour trying to figure out, a. where it went, and b. how to get it back. And then I just gave up on the whole darned thing.
Today, I opened up my browser, and voila, the toolbar is back. Tricky trick. So here is a tricky haiku:
toolbar gone, then here -
firefox stealth update or
computer gremlins?
A recap of the last month:
soccer games (oldest won a legit trophy; her team earned second place in a soccer tourney)
grading papers. hundreds of them. need to stop assigning work. boo.
karaoke at women's church retreat: costumes of paper, duct tape, and foil were fabulous
homecoming float building
treat or tricking
oldest turned 14
Those were the non-parallel structured highlights. I plead the fifth on the rest.
One an' two an' three an' twirl. That's my rhythm
this afternoon. I don't complain even though
it's god awful hot out here. Almost a hundred
an' two degrees yesterday. "All you can eat
Pizza buffet, lunch special!" Seems you'd
want a guy drivin' by to read the sign, but
they got us spinnin' and shakin' and dancin' it
around. Not that I'm complainin'. I need the job.
There's talk of closin' the plant where Mama works.
Yeah, young guys like me don't do the jobs guys
used to do. My Grampa was a printer. He learned how at
the newspaper up north in Tacoma. He tells me 'bout
how they had him luggin' around stacks of paper
hundred pounds each an' clankin' an' pullin' an'
hummin' all kinds of machines. He was thirteen when
he started. Long time ago, Mama took me to the shop, but
I don't remember. She says he always had his head stuck in a
press - inkin' it up or scrubbin' it down - punchin' buttons
and checkin' papers as they spit out the other side.
She says one press was the size of our house! Mama says
in the old days, Grampa used to smell like ink when
he came home at night - an' his sausage sized fingers
got stained black from mixin' all day. They used to
scoop blobs of ink from big tins an' plop it on
an old printin' plate an' mix it all around 'til it
was just the right color. That's how they did it way
back then. Now the colors come ready mixed, I guess.
Yeah, sure is hot out here. But I smile an' pretend
this is the best job in the world. At least I'm gettin' a
good work out. Plus I can listen to my I-Pod all day.
Kelton says he's quitting. I'll see if I can get his
shift too. Gotta work on a new routine, though. Can't
be twirlin' and flippin' all Saturday. Gotta pace myself.
I wanted to tell
you how much I loved the haiku
and anti-haiku.
my first comment was
poetic and brilliant,
but it would not post.
the second and third
i admit were cheap copies
of the original
those deserved to be
sucked into the nothingness
of the black hole where
my comments seem to
be flying into at warp
speed - condemned to die
and after two days
of this, i realized that
i could tell you here
that i loved your poems,
the brilliant fall out and
into a haiku.
Darkness enveloped the mountain hamlet. Pricking the tops of the thick evergreens, thousands of stars pierced the blue black sky. The night was clear and crisp and ominously quiet. As I jogged along the shoulder of the winding barren highway that snaked through the thick forest of sixty foot pines, streaks of white light brushed across the horizon. "A meteor shower," I thought. But the streaks didn't burn out. Then I realized that thousands of silver discs - no larger than a dinner plate - were frantically zig-zagging and descending onto the town. As the discs zipped by, barely grazing my head, I dropped to the ground. "Play dead," I thought, "and maybe they'll go away." But my quick and shallow breaths didn't go unnoticed; a disc returned and hovered over me. Reigning in my panic, I tried to keep still. "Be roadkill," I thought. "Maybe they'll just think you're a dead animal." And then, as if responding to the flip of a switch, a compartment popped open on the disc and out whirred a needle. I knew I couldn't hide my DNA. If the machine - or whatever it was - got a sample... On a visceral impulse, I grabbed the disc and smashed it into the asphalt until the disc shattered.
And that was only half of the dream. In the rest of the dream, for the most part, I was buying rugged hiking boots and camping equipment for my family so that we could hide in the woods by a crystal clear lake in order to escape from the impending alien attack.
So taking my lead from Jane D., of course I went over to dreammoods.com to see what they had to say.
Running
To dream that you are running alone, signifies that you will advance to a higher position and surpass your friends in the race for wealth. Alternatively, you may be running from some situation or from temptation. Or it may also mean that you need to hurry up in making a decision.
Forest
To dream that you are in or walking through the forest, signifies a transitional phase.Follow your instincts. Alternatively, it indicates that you want to escape to a simpler way of life. You are feeling weighed down by the demands of your life.
UFO
To see a UFO in your dream, signifies your desires to find your spiritual purpose in life. Alternatively, it indicates that you are feeling alienated from those around you. The dream may also be a metaphor suggesting that you are a little "spacey" or have "spaced out" attitude. You need to be more grounded and come back to reality.
Needle
A needle is also symbolic of some emotional or physical pain. To dream that someone is using a needle, suggests that you need to incorporate and join together various aspects of your consciousness.
Camping
To dream that you are camping, indicates a need for relaxation and a long-deserved break. You need to be more in touch with nature and go back to a more basic and simpler life. Alternatively, it refers to your social circle and support group. You are looking for a sense of belonging, but at the same time be self-sufficient and independent.
Lake
To see a lake in your dream, signifies your emotional state of mind. You feel restricted or that you are unable to express your emotions freely. Alternatively, the lake may provide you with solace, security, and peace of mind. If the lake is clear and calm, then it symbolize your inner peace. If the lake is disturbed, then you may be going through some emotional turmoil.
Watermelon. Watermelon. Watermelon. Watermelon. Watermelon.
When my students don't know what to write, I tell them to write a paragraph of "watermelon."
Not sure why I picked that word - except that I was once told that if I am singing in a choir and forget the words, then I should mouth "watermelon" to cover it up.
Four weeks ago I had a garage sale. Actually, I didn't plan to have a garage sale. I was simply cleaning out my garage. But I was sorting through so much junk in the driveway that people *thought* I was having a garage sale. So I let people rifle through my stuff - even my garbage pile - and I took their money. And I made 50 bucks.
Four weeks ago, school started. I'm back teaching in my old room at my old school. I hate to say anything because I don't want to jinx myself, but classes are going well. Could it be that some of the new classroom management techniques I've employed this year are really working?! Nah. Truth is that God was watching out for me when the schedules were made because I didn't get any of the trouble makers. Although I do have 26 boys and only 6 girls in my first period class... Somehow it works regardless. In fact, only one third of my 162 students are girls. Crazy. Mostly I'm thankful that I don't have the students that are in the room next door. She's had to have security escort students to the office almost every day since school started.
Last week, I ran a 5K. Poetroad beat me by a minute. Iron Girl beat me by 20 seconds. Still, Iron girl and I placed 5th and 6th respectively in our age group. Obviously I have some training to do so that I soundly leave Iron Girl in the dust in our next race. Definitely we will have to sign up for another 5k. She hates running the 5K. I need *something* to work in my favor. Perhaps I should stop eating chocolate too.
Last week, a girl that was kidnapped over 18 years ago was found alive in Antioch. Ironically, her story is freakishly similar to the premise of the story I wrote, but never published, for the last Clarity contest. At the time, I was thinking that the plot was too implausible. Now I know that it's not. Scary.
Took the older daughters and friends to a Jonas Brothers concert.
Saw a terrific production of "Into the Woods."
Found myself yelling at my kids, "Oh, for Pete's sake!" Then I wondered, "Why is it always for Pete's sake?" You are popular guy - hahaha.
Cleaned out my garage. Made fifty bucks because people thought I was having a garage sale. Nothing more wonderful than having a stranger pull out something from your trash and asking, "What do you want for this?"
Then today I went back to work. I gave homework to all of my students. The fun never ends!
I miss all of you all! I'll be dropping by your blogs this week to say hey!
Making my rounds in the blogosphere today, so you probably already knew. :) Thinking about Karen and her Kitty (sorry for your loss!), I'd like to say we own a cat, but actually our cat owns us. :) She yelled at my husband every day while we were in Oregon (sometimes at 3 in the morning, she woke him to complain) because she wanted to know if we were missing or dead. And if we were alive, then why wasn't he busy looking for the missing children??!!
I missed you, Cali,
the valley snug between pines,
mountains, palms and sea.
