What I’m Reading
Jan
31
It’s Okay, You Can Hate Me Too
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Last week was really rough, guys. Some horrific meetings, including one with freakish hippies, one with my principal and assistant principal, a classroom observation, and one that involved union lawyers and the Superintendent that made me want to throw up, and all I’ve wanted to do this weekend is sit on my butt and watch bad movies. So on Thursday I talked to TNNB and told him about how miserable I was with everything going on on top of grading and getting all new kids this week. He asked if there was anything he could do, I replied no, I just wanted to get my work done and go to bed.
Two hours later he called me and asked me to open my door. There he stood with flowers and a box of cannolis straight from the North End. Super sweet, yes? What girl does not want flowers and cannolis from a cute boy when she is feeling down?
Well, apparently me. A few days later I broke up with him.
I know what you’re thinking! I am evil! I do not deserve to date! And I would tend to agree with you, except guys, I REALLY, REALLY TRIED! Sigh. There was just something missing. When he showed up with flowers I was all, oh, so thoughtful, but oh my GOD I HAVE SO MUCH WORK TO DO PLEASE LEAVE. That is not a normal reaction. I did spend a few days thinking it over, trying to make sure I was not just freaking out about having a new relationship and came to the conclusion that right now I truly am happiest when I’m doing my own thing. I need this time for me, and I don’t want to feel guilty about that.
Maybe some time in 2010 I will change my mind about wanting to date, but for right now it’s enough for me to know that there are actually some decent men out there. I may be evil, but I’m still grateful for the TNNB proving that.
Jan
27
Spirit Reading
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Hiiii guys. So, guess what? You might not believe this, but in the last two weeks I have had over twelve different meetings. Which means I have not gotten home before 7 pm in a very long time- and let’s just keep in mind that I am AT work by 7 am every morning. Pssh. Twelve-hour shifts are for the birds. And by birds, I mean criminals and the insane.
Now, normally I would imagine that most of you out there would find a post about my school’s faculty meetings about as dull as watching paint dry because sitting through them in person makes me want to give myself a concussion with my laptop just so I could skip them. However, this week was a little different. This week, our administration wanted to talk about how our school compared to the other middle schools in the district. See, there are three middle schools in my town. The middle school I was at last year was always known for being the most academic of the three. My new school this year is a mix of teamwork, problem-solving, social integration, and academics. And the third middle school is basically known as the hippy dippy middle school, focusing all their efforts (and grant money) on something called “Experiential Learning”.
So at the faculty meeting, our principal asked if anyone on the staff was interested in trying out this Experiential Learning technique. It was clear that he himself was not at all interested in it, but wanted to present it as an option. Here are a few of the things their experiential approach includes:
Spirit Readings: students are asked to read books silently, and speak whenever the spirit moves them to do so. I will leave it to your imagination as to what types of things middle schoolers might say with an open invitation to make any comment they “feel” like.
Invitations: teachers are not to hand out assignments. Instead, in the Experiential Learning vernacular, teachers are asked to INVITE students to finish work at home. A co-worker sitting next to me promptly raised her hand and asked what happened when the students declined that invitation. The man explaining this looked affronted, as if that possibility had never entered his realm of thought. I’m pretty sure I am going decline to invite students to do anything other than whatever the hell I say.
The Having of Wonderful Ideas: I am not even making these terms up, I swear. The Having of Wonderful Ideas is one of the core values of experiential learning. Someone please tell me, why would we want to give the kids the impression that all their ideas are wonderful? Isn’t being an adolescent all about learning which ideas and choices are specifically not wonderful? I have a Wonderful Idea: someone put a bullet in the kneecap of whoever brainstormed these educational theories.
But the real icing on the cake was the gentleman who came to talk about his school in Maine that had been “transformed and reformed” by all the experiences he and his kids have shared. Presumably he was their principal but he stated straight off that he preferred to be called their Guide, as he took off his Birkenstocks (he had on wool socks, obvs, it’s cold in Maine!), and sat cross-legged on the chair. He also insisted that all the tables in the library be moved to one side so that we could communicate freely with our body language rather than hide from each other behind desks.
Good thing couldn’t read my body language even with the tables gone because if he could he would have known that I was saying “I really wish I could slap the shit out of this man”.
Jan
23
Some of you are probably aware of the fact that I am a huge geek. I mean, if you read even a little bit of this blog you will have already pieced together what I am like in real life; I have a deep seated love of libraries, indie book stores, my iPhone, gadgets in general, the internet, video games, people who wear glasses, trivia, and hipster art.
Whatever, you know you want to hang out with me.
REGARDLESS, I was not quite prepared for the large-scale nerdery taking place at this weekend’s robotics conference. And why was I at a robotics conference, you ask? I assure you I asked myself the same thing, every two minutes, for the full 16 hours I spent in a windowless underground room of a government building. The thing is, the conference was really for my Nerdlets in Training, AKA the students who conned me into leading their robotics club, but because it took place in a high-security building they needed a chaperone and I was volunteered by them before I had a chance to make up an excuse.
And so I donned my Super Nerd cape and woke up before the sun on a Saturday morning to stare at a computer screen full of code that looked like this:
int main()
{
mrp(2,80,-269);
bmd(2);
beep();
printf(“hooray the claw thing works!!!\n”);
mav(0,1000);
mav(1,1000);
sleep(8);
ao();
beep();
printf(“yay it goes forward!!!\n”);
mav(1000,1);
sleep(8);
ao();
beep();
printf(“yay it turns!!!\n”);
mav(1,-1000);
sleep(8);
ao();
beep();
printf(“hooray it turns again!!!\n”);
NO, FOR REAL. And I will tell you, my Super Nerd cape needs to be revoked ASAP if this is what my life has become. WHY CAN I READ CODE? Not cool, people. Not cool. But then, my little eleven-year old students were so excited to build the robots they were almost peeing their pants when the kits were handed out. So you tell me: was it worth it?
I dunno, I’m still on the fence. I had to wear a lanyard, for Christ’s sake.
Anyway, I tried to balance this out by also attending a Winter Jubilee Beer Festival. It was quite delicious, and well worth the money despite the atrocious crowds and bathroom lines. Luckily, for the most part the crowd was jolly with winter beers and we were greatly entertained, even in while waiting for an open toilet.
So there you have it. The thrilling life and times of NPW. Now when did you say you were coming to visit?
Jan
18
I Missed Delurking Day. Again.
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Oopsies. Every year I seem to stumble upon other people’s “Delurk Today!” posts and I shrug to myself and think, oh well, maybe next year. But really, where is it written that people must delurk on my blog the same day they delurk everywhere else? EXACTLY. And dammit, I want to know who’s out there reading.
Quite honestly, I love each and every one of my readers. Your comments rock my day. So of course I’d like to get to know you all a little better! I can’t think of a better way than to play a charming little round of Would You Rather? In that spirit, please choose one of the following questions to answer in the comments section:
1. Would you rather be proposed to while on the toilet or via text message?
2. Would you rather be trapped overnight in an elevator filled with butterflies, or in a cave filled with bats?
3. Would you rather have your TV get only one channel that plays solely MTV’s Jersey Shore, or a radio with one station that only plays Rush Limbaugh 24/7?
4. Would you rather eat a peanut butter and earthworm sandwich, or a cup of maggot chowder?
5. Would you rather have both legs broken by falling off a building, or both arms broken by falling down the stairs?
And since people will be putting forth the effort to actually comment, I will put forth the effort to respond by email to every single comment left. Phew. That’s a lot of work! But you’re totally worth it, lovelies.
Jan
15
Don’t Judge Me
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For weeks now, everyone in my family has been playing this game on Facebook called Cafe World. I scoffed at them mightily. Ridiculous Facebook games! I would never get sucked into something so silly. Let me pause there a moment so you can imagine to yourself where this post is going.
OH YES I DID. Even though I stayed strong for a long while, my family eventually wore me down enough that I finally caved and signed up to play. I just wanted to see what the big deal was! I swear! And possibly also find out why they were having conversations with each other that sounded like they were in code, involving words like “cafe coins” and “martian brain bake”. Don’t tell me those don’t sound intriguing! You know you want to sign up. Do it! Then you can send me cafe gifts! DO IT! DO IT RIGHT NOW!
Or not. Actually, yeah, no, don’t sign up at all. It’s terrible. The game has turned into a part-time job for which I do not get paid, but from which I derive a sick satisfaction nonetheless. My bustling little waiters serving up fruit salad, my constant need to redecorate and expand, it’s all such an… illness. Gah! The entire premise of the game is: cook food and serve it. What?! I don’t even want to do that in real life! Plus, your customers are your Facebook friends, which is freaky because the weird little characters don’t differentiate between my male and female friends and also some of them have Xed out eyes. TNNB has a long mane of brown hair and pink eyes. It’s disconcerting.
Because I know you are dying of curiosity, let me break down some of the particulars of the game: the food is cooked on timers, so food that takes longer to cook serves more people and costs more money. I am not even joking when I tell you when I SET my ALARM CLOCK for a nap so that I could wake up to serve my sweet seasonal ham before it spoiled. I have been having conversations with my family members that sound like this:
Sister: I see you’re making a savory stuffed turkey. And your caramel apples are ready to serve.
NPW: Yeah, I’m trying to time my hams to be ready when I wake up in the morning. Do you think it’s bad if I serve fruit salad all day?
Cousin: Hey, I have a halibut coming off the stove in an hour. Do you think I should wait to put on the berry cheesecake? Or have it all done at once?
NPW: I don’t know, I just… oooh, I can expand my cafe and add new floor tiles!
Sister: My cafe is so pretty. I wish I really had $225K.
NPW: You probably could if you actually did your job instead of playing Cafe World all day. Shit, my tikka masala kabobs spoiled while I was doing laundry! WTF!
Sister: Ha ha. Give up now, you’ll never win!
NPW: Sigh.
So to all those people I made fun of for playing Farmville and Mafia Wars? I’M SORRY, OKAY? Really. I’m sorry for both of us.
Jan
11
Why Dating is for Suckers
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Whoa now. Hold your horses there, people. Things with TNNB are still fine, I am not about to tell you some terrible sob story about how he turned out to be a d-bag and I am never dating again. In fact, if you consider the male gender as a whole, TNNB is a miracle among men, at least as far as not being a d-bag. He’s pretty much the opposite of d-bagginess: he holds doors open for me. He says nice things without being asked. He calls when he says he’ll call. He gets me a glass of water when he gets one for himself. Basically, he is polite and sweet and generally normal.
Sadly, 99.9% of the dating stories I hear from my friends are not like this. One of my friends actually got STOOD UP this past weekend. Like, old school style. Showed up at the arranged time and place and the dude just never showed, and, of course, is now incommunicado. Dudes of the world, riddle me this: how does this sound even remotely okay?
Another friend had a conversation with a guy and decided they would meet on Sunday. Sunday came and went without a call or a message. The next day she got an email explaining that his Jeep had fallen in a frozen brook, that he spent the whole day and night chopping it out of the ice with an axe, and he really would have called but his Blackberry was at the bottom of said brook, trapped under the ice. I AM NOT EVEN JOKING. “Phone trapped under ice” is so ludicrous an excuse I am almost inclined to believe him. What do you think?
Anywizzle. Remember when I wrote this post? And I said: “my next date will be with an accountant, or a banker, or a statistician”? Well, I took my own advice for once! TNNB happens to be an accountant. And my advice to myself might have been tongue-in-cheek, but it totally worked! Just because he’s not a tortured musician does not mean he has no depth or character. It just means I don’t need to constantly try to put him together like puzzle pieces that got scattered around during adolescence and stomped on by the stilettos of countless women, never to properly fit together again.
TNNB can’t be held responsible for the actions of his fellow men. I know this. But that doesn’t stop me from occasionally demanding of him: “Why are boys so dumb?”
Jan
7
I’ve been sitting here with this blank post open for approximately eighty-seven hundred minutes because it was easier to pretend I was going to write a post than admit I just didn’t want to read my book club book. I truly believe that my brain is only hardwired to rip through young adult fantasy books, so when it comes time to pick up something that does not revolve around teen romance and/or the bloodsucking undead I plod my way through it like a Resource Room kid.
Anyway, I’ve been feeling pretty down in the dumps lately, thinking about my job and the fact that my school probably won’t have money to bring back the library next year. It’s been especially hard the last couple of weeks because I have been reading and reviewing some great young adult books for HarperTeen and I was SO EXCITED about them! I wanted to chat with anyone who would listen about Wicked Lovely! No joke, I made my cousin start reading the series just so I could talk about the ending of the first book. Then I made the terrible mistake of looking through a bunch of my library book review magazines. I was practically drooling at all the awesome stuff that is coming out. If you’ll permit me an analogy: to me, paging through School Library Journal is like a fifteen year old boy paging through his dad’s Playboy, that’s how much I love it.
But then I realized once again that I have no library to buy books for. No way to share the books I love with the kids. No time in the school day to take a break to have discussions about what books are coming out, what books are being made into movies, what characters are totally amazing (Katniss! Diana Holland!) and what characters we’d like to see killed off immediately (Bill Compton! Victoria!). And I want all that back. That’s who I am! That’s what I love doing! Why am I stuck teaching kids how to make custom animations in Power Point? What did I do to deserve this fate?
The truth is, I miss it. I really, really, reeeeeeally miss being in the library. And it sucks. And it’s not going to get better any time soon. There are parts of teaching that aren’t so bad, and there are things I’ve grown accustomed to that I thought I wouldn’t, but the classroom is simply not the library.
I do not love this job the way I love the library, and I feel like that’s a disservice to the kids. I put on my happy Ms. NPW face every day and muster up as much enthusiasm as I can for MLA citations, but there are still six months to go and I’m already counting down the days until summer. Sigh.
Jan
3
Strap yourselves in, it’s a whole new decade of NPW! In my typical fashion, I rang in the New Year with loads of champagne cocktails while simultaneously attempting to trick anyone who would listen into playing a round of Shocking Autopsy. The only person to agree to play was the new New Boy, but he actually got the pieces out without getting a shock so my grand plan to physically maim my friends was foiled. Why does that game amuse me so much? No one else seems even remotely entertained by the notion of others getting shocked; I have to imagine it is a character flaw on my part. I’ll work on that.
Anyway, our New Year’s Eve festivities contained all the key elements of a successful party with enough drama that did not directly involve me to keep me entertained until 3 am when I finally rolled out. There was crying, name-calling (at one point some dude called my friend Kelli Katie Holmes, then called her boring, then told his friend that “he totally just pissed off Tom Cruise’s wife”), drunk Facebook messaging, drunk texting, someone vomiting into the host’s stew pot, cupcakes, dancing, and a lot of photos being taken just to document how awesomely we ushered in ‘10, all of which are being detagged as I write this post.
So here we are! 2010 already has a lot of expectations to live up to so I will use that as my excuse for not coming up with an actual list of my own resolutions. Plus, it’s boring to read other people’s resolutions, no? For example, I just took a gander at the list of the books I read in 2009 and it bothered me an inordinate amount that I read 49 books this year. Why not 50? Why did it have to be an odd number? And nine of those books were from the Sookie Stackhouse (AKA True Blood) series which were so terrible I am almost ashamed to have read each and every one of them. (I hope you’re happy to have my hard-earned money, Charlaine Harris, you supe lover!) So, what, should my resolution be to read more? To read an even number? To stop already with the ridiculous vampire novels? I don’t even know. I fail at resolution-making.
To be honest, I haven’t really thought much about what I want this year to be like. I think I will be content with it just not sucking as hard as last year, and if I get to go somewhere warm (or really, just somewhere where there is no snow), that will be a big bonus.
Oooh, and I’d like to finally buy myself a DSLR camera, so I can be one of those annoying people reading the entire 300 page manual just to take a lame macro shot of a seashell or something equally banal. Fun!