adventures in sub land

I am a substitute teacher.

That's what I do now to make ends meet.

(Unrelated tangent: Until sometime fairly late in life - late enough for me not to disclose the time/date - I thought the expression was "make ends meat," and had convinced myself that "ends meat" was a colloquialism for the meat/food/sustenance that you have when you're really poor or when the pantry's almost empty. End tangent.)

My first adventure in substituting was 5th grade. Also to note: 5th graders are tall. They are also scary when they are "bowing up" to you. What does the term "bowed up" mean, you ask? I didn't know either, until one of my students "bowed up" to me as I was telling him that his partner - who had just previously hurled an eraser at the back of my head - was going to have to sit outside for the rest of the class. Upon hearing that he would have to be working alone, this young hoodlum "bowed up" straight to my face. This meant, that he jerked his shoulders and elbows ("bows") back to feign as if he was going to hit/attack me bodily. If he hadn't been just barely at my shoulder height, I might have been more alarmed than I was.

But, I was ok. My demeanor changed/morphed/matured instantly as I became not a fairly controlled, kind substitute that they had never met, but was now an angry, mean, scary old lady who would punish them until their grandchildren felt it, who heard herself say with a constricted throat and a hoarse whisper, "GET. OUT. SIDE."

It was only after I called the ISS teacher that I learned the expression "bowed up" when I demonstrated what he did.

Eek.

I guess I should start wearing heels and scary spectacles to make myself look older/more menacing.

Sigh. Two days of work and I'm ready for Thanksgiving already.

in review

I've come to learn a few new things about living here:

1. I drive way too slow. And by "way too slow" I mean I generally, if not literally, fear for my life every time I think about getting on the feeder road to Central. I am probably going 40 miles UNDER the "unposted" speed limit. Very scary. Big Hummers and tiny little Mercedes whiz by me with only the glimpse of a little birdie that flies in my eye. And then clunky El Caminos, which can't exactly make quick decisions like one to cut me off, instead just ride Mrs. Onasis' tail like she's 2 cent lady of the night. I was backing out of my parking spot in the mall the other day, and some lady laid/slept/camped out on her horn at me, because apparently, I was blocking her way. (Though, if I remember correctly, she wasn't there when I start to back out...) I responded by laying/sleeping/camping out on my horn as I backed out completely (now facing her) and waved emphatically and smiled genuinely. She was very confused.

2. Finding a job issssssssss hard? Dear Starbucks, Unnamed Company, Anthropologie, Free People, Wal Mart, Whole Foods, Richardson ISD, Saltgrass Steak House, Merry Maids, Pier 1: Your swift rejections make me feel like I'm not competent enough to be left home alone or to use a knife without supervision.

3. In general, I have a love/hate relationship with the Federal government. Last month, I received a hefty tax return check - FROM 2007 (!?). Weird, I thought, whilst I skipped to the bank. Love. Then today, I get in the mail two notices from the federal and state governments saying there's been a mistake and I instead OWE THEM money from 2007. (2007. 2007!? I mean, really. I've moved on, haven't you?) Hate. So, that's awesome. In addition to the limb and left kindney I owe to my Dentist (how i love and hate thee as well), my mechanic, and now, Uncle Sam, I am feeling like it could be beans and rice for dinner for a while now.

4. In lighter news: I went to register for my first semester as a seminary student. Woot. I love that master's programs just start right out with interesting classes, and you don't have to sit through 7 semesters of general education survey crap just to get to the good stuff. Hello, abnormal psychology.

More updates soon. Can't wait for Thanksgiving - the best holiday (sorry anne, the one true thing we disagree on)

the lone star state

hello new world.

hello texas and warmth and brother and sister and "the stars and stripes" and blue bell and huge southern hair.

Well, it's been about a week since I've moved. Yes! I finally moved! My sister should be jumping for joy somewhere back in the Show-Me state.

A few things just kinda fell together, and with the help of a very outspoken, self-knowing sister, I have been booted from the nest. I loved being at home, even despite of all the jokes. It basically gave me a safe place to land after YWAM filled with family, comfort, and a year-long hands-on cooking school (praise Him).

Though the lucrative business of administrative assisting was very...lucrative...I have been praying and asking for new direction for awhile now.

So. Here I am in Big D. (THOUGH IT IS NOT THE SAME WITHOUT ANNE. UGH. THAT'S A WHOLE OTHER POST IN ITSELF.)

Starting school in January for a master's in counseling.
Living with a dear friend from college.
Interviewing at a few choice (and not-so-choice) locations.
Believing that the Lord sees me still.

That's my update.

I do miss my family

and this girl

(who is one of the funniest people I have ever met. ever.)
And Fall - generally

(Texas is perpetually summer/spring....and so not many beautiful treeeeesss)


But things are going well.

New faces.

New adventures.

Buahaha, ok, Lord. Adventure in the Lone Star State.

Ready.

Set.

Go.

The Brothers Karamazov: A hasty book review of amateur proportions

In short: He scares me.

I've only a few pages left in this classic, which I would say is the equivalent of a full-bodied malt liquor - like a Heineken. Ha. Not really a drinker, but when I try to think of ways to describe the feel of Dostoyevsky's sentences in my mouth as I sound out each thick, dense word, all I can think of is the way I felt when I drank malt liquor in Ireland. The pint was a full meal in itself.

As I've gone back to read a few of the classic I've missed in my 'formal' education, I've found that the "classics" usually fall in one of two categories: A Classic and Not a Classic. (Uh, the Sound and the Fury: Maybe I missed it, but incomplete sentences and vague plotlines based on stream of consciousness doesn't really fit my ideal for a classical piece of literature? I'm a simple girl).

So, Dos' great work seems to surprise me, and falls somewhere in the middle. I mean, the characterization is definitely amazing - and maybe reason enough for its permant spot in classic literature. (And the nobility and depth in the character Aloysha is good enough to make "Aloysha" one of my top 10 of potential kids' names - don't spread that around, I once talked someone out of it, before i had finished the novel.) And Russian novelists of his day got paid by the word (so that explains a lot of his verbosity), so that explains away some of what I didn't quite enjoy.

BUT overall, definitely worth reading. I mean, everyone has to conquer one Dos novel, yes? Even if it wasn't one of my all-time favs ,like A Tale of Two Cities turned out to be when I read it two summers ago, it was good brain-excersize.

good ole' Dickens

becca & joe

When they talk to, about, around, one another
they usually can find the other's eyes, and will sit contentedly in a gaze long after the words they've spoken have hung in the air and are whisked away by the momentously profound feelings that are spoken between them in the following silence.

The quiet between them seems to say 'I love you' over and over and over again.

It's in the way they watch one another.

She watches him, waits for him, laughs delightedly at him. He watches her, enjoys her, is filled by her.

Sometimes, we can all be in the middle of a completely normal conversation, and then she's suddenly captured his eye with some deep, unknown-to-everyone- else sweetness, and they're enraptured in something that I find quickly I'm not apart of.

They are intimate with one glance of the eye.
Going to places I haven't been, can't be, won't be, because it's only, ever, only between the two. I think I even feel the slightest bit embarrassed to be watching.

i love you i love you i love you i love you, their silence whispers

kayla jean

I've been friends with Kayla for 11 years.
It seems wild to me only because we're so different in a lot of ways. And because aside from my family, she's been with me through life the longest. From high school dances, to driver's licenses, to college far away, to wayward journeys, separate lives, and separate friends, but keeping a singular home, the same Father in Heaven.

We've lived almost half our lives knowing one another (which I feel like should either lend itself to true respect or...not).

I love that she is intentional with her friends.
I love love love that even when I don't ask, she
PRAYS FOR ME.
I love that she has never strayed from pursuing her Father in Heaven.
I love how she respects her parents.
I love how I can count on her - to make me feel welcomed, loved, seen.
I love how she makes fun of me when I need it most.

I love that she knows me, takes part in my life, adds to my life,

even though we're hundreds of miles away.

I am so grateful for her love and friendship.
I am grateful that she is part of my joy amid struggle.

(And, yes, I'm glad she's found a boy that can appreciate all this in her too)




"Jonathan became one in spirit with David, and he loved him as himself."
1 Sam 18:1

Proverbs 16:9 (paraphrased)

Go ahead and make your plans.

That's an important part of living.

But I have the trump card.

Love, God.

(Haha, great article on God's trump card here.)