I have a movie going on in the background when I get ready in the morning because plots make boring things better. Today, though I’ve seen it probably six or seven times, I selected Sleepless in Seattle because it never gets old.
I am a first-time high school TEACHER.
Posted onIn high school, I was a book-wormy over-achiever, a stretch-too-thinner, student body governmenter, hang out with the Assistant Principal (Hey Mrs. Lacy, if you’re reading this), Susie High School. So because I loved high school so much, I vowed I would never go back. How lame would it be if I spent my life in high school?
Of course, in a little more than a month, I will step into a high school classroom again. I won’t be any taller than I was in high school. I won’t really look much different than I did in high school. I will still pack my lunch. I will still be a nerd.
But this time, as I step into the high school classroom, I will be the teacher. The classroom will be mine.
So much for convictions.
Here’s the thing: I got a rush from doing my homework. I sat in the front row. I got along with and obeyed most of my teachers (except Mr. Svendson. We had issues). So now I am teaching English, and all the activities that I have planned sound really fun, but they might only sound fun because I am a high school loving English Geek.
So now I am launching heavy duty into my classroom planning, and yeah, I am starting to freak out a little. I want to hear from YOU. All of you. Whether you loved high school, but especially if you hated it.
Tell me what your teachers (specifically English, if possible) did to make your high school heavenly or hellish.
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Lessons Learned in a Park
Posted onFor my Second City comedy writing class, my teacher asked us to go and snoop on an authentic conversation between several people. So naturally I donned my Harriet the Spy notebook and headed over to the park, which to be fair, is a park I head to every day usually with my notebook in tow, but whatever.
Empathy for Perma-Scowlers
Posted onSome people–some actually nice people–have permanent scowls. It’s not that they are in any way distraught, but their default face just kinda forms into a natural stink-eye.
I think this was most eloquently described in the movie Juno:
Juno says: Your little girlfriend gave me the stink-eye in art class yesterday.
Bleaker replies: Katrina’s not my girlfriend, alright? And I doubt she gave you the stinkeye that’s just how her face looks, you know? That’s just her face.
Then, we cut to Katrina De Voort:
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Now first close encounters with Perma-Scowlers can be a little intimidating. I, myself, was startled just minutes ago by a Perma-Scowler sitting across from me at this little cafe. I reached into myself and thought, “What have I done to make such a mortal enemy so quickly? Was it my sneeze? I did sneeze rather loudly…” But as I wondered about my own offenses, I couldn’t help but study my stink-eyed companion.
She scowled through an entire chapter of a leisure reading. She scowled when filling her water cup. She even scowled as she emerged from the bathroom, after which, most people stop scowling. Now, there was a slight break in the stink-eye as the server brought her food, but upon sinking her teeth into her delicious grilled chicken sandwich, her face quickly lapsed into Kristen Stewart Mode.
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Logically I concluded after my studies that she didn’t give me “the stinkeye that’s just how her face looks, you know? That’s just her face.”
For Perma-Scowlers, I always just hope they’re also beautiful because I think the life of a Perma-Scowler might be a lonely existence. They are so immediately alienating that no one dares to crack beneath the surface of the slanted eyebrows!
So next time someone gives you a big old crusty, counterbalance by giving them a hug! If they resume scowling but otherwise seem pleased, you will know that’s just the way their face looks. If they hit you after, you might assume they were scowling for a reason. But they might still have needed a hug.
*I do not endorse hugging Kristen Stewart.
Our Festive Fourth
Posted onI haven’t been terribly homesick since I got to Chicago, but today I found myself a little achey–not just from all the walking.
I missed Utah. I missed my Sugar House neighborhood parade. And I missed all the Republican Patriots! No one really sported the old Red White and Blue. I missed the local marching bands and the musics and the glow sticks and the kids with streamers on their bikes. I could not track down a single piece of salt water taffy.
My Top 5 Under-Appreciated Instagrams
Posted onInstagram is a wonderful cyber reality. No really, I am enjoying it. Knowing I am no photographer, I am still happy to have these little square pictures documenting the mundane and exciting moments in my life, and I am enjoying the little glimpses I get into your lives too.
But after a loosely calculated and hardly serious study, I am learning that I can basically predict which photos are going to get some “likes” and which won’t.
Does your Instagram feature:
- A couple (usually yourself with another person) doing something mildly abnormal like playing Scrabble or washing a car?
- Some sort of Witty Aphorism?
- Aesthetically pleasing, gluten-free food?
- Jimmer Fredette?
- Jef Holm?
- A picture that was taken in an exotic locale with a nice Canon camera, then heavily photoshopped, and then applied to Instagram?
- A pretty teenage girl posing in a just suggestive enough pose to still be sexy AND mysterious AND age-appropriate all at once?
Good for you, your photo’s gonna get some lovin’. I’ve shot some well-liked photos into the Instagram abyss, but I’ve had others that have flopped. So here I am to shame my Instagram followers for not understanding/ appreciating the “artistic integrity” behind my point-and-shoot efforts on my weeny cell phone camera.
My Top 5 Most Under-Appreciated Instagrams
*Please note, most of my justifications are completely made up and a load of waffle.
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#5 -“THE MONKEY MODEL”
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This photo comments on society’s vanity. Jeremy poses with a hybrid of “Duck Face” and “Clout Pout” to show the unattractive, amoral underbelly of the Fashion industry. He is in essence, MODERN ART, people! How did you not see the inherent message behind this impromptu image and Jeremy’s appallingly scary facial expression? |
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#4 “THE REAL RAINBOW FISH”
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Guys! I found the Rainbow Fish from This Fable, and you are acting like it’s no big deal that I met a celebrity. Admittedly, yes, I wasn’t scuba diving or even snorkeling. I found him in a tank… at an aquarium. But it was still a rare “find.” You may have noticed that it is slightly blurry. Perhaps that was why you did not “like” this photo when it appeared on my Instagram reel. But if you could see the minutes of diligent effort that I spent trying to get this fish at an appropriate, non PG-13 angle, where his body wasn’t swimming suggestively, then you certainly would have been more eager to HEART THIS PHOTO UP. |
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#3 “THE ROOTBEER SMENCIL”
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Admittedly, there is not inherent artistic quality to this photograph, but I was saddened that more people weren’t excited about the existence/ NAME OF this product. SMENCILS. Shelby-Russels, you guys appropriately reacted to the Smencil, my Gourmet Pencil that smelled like Root Beer, so you are off the hook. But by and large friends, your lack of enthusiasm was underwhelming. I love my Smencil so much it sleeps under my bed at night… Because it rolled under there and it’s dusty, so I haven’t gotten it out yet. |
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#2 “THE HURRYLESS BIRD”
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This piece was titled “Bird Late for Work,” and… I’m embarrassed to say I was genuinely proud of this composition. This solo bird was a stark juxtaposition to the impatient humans in the Chicago subway. It was out of sorts with its natural habitat, yet so serene and patient. Don’t even get me started on the irony and symbolism richly apparent in this Instagram. This Pigeon was an example to us all. If only you had known. |
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#1 “MAGNETIC POETRY OF THE SOUL”
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 Look. I’m a high school English Teacher. I know that Poetry seems like an outdated artform. But this was profound!I blame myself that this photo was overlooked. There was a typo in my caption. I wrote, “My give year old nephew’s magnetic poem.” Probably you didn’t know what a give year old was. But I meant to say my “five-year-old” nephew, Thomas, though I believe he is six now. At such a young age, he perceived one of the most basic human truths about society, and we judge and measure ourselves up to our peers. Of course, I’m interpreting this formalistically, so I should probably question his lack of commas, even though this is a list in a series. I might also interpret the meaning behind putting “myself” in between man and friend. What does that say about how Thomas situates himself in this society. Also he used Ampersands, which tickles my English Teaching funny bone. ALSO: It’s cute because all the poems Jeremy and I made are way up high. This poem was situated near the bottom of the fridge, much closer to Thomas’ little height. While that is not captured in the image, it certainly adds to the over all effect. |
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So there. Now I hope you all feel sheepish. Or I hope you go back through the annals of my Instagram reel and see if you were one of the few to understand the real MESSAGE behind my trite little photographs. Feel free to “heart” if you’ve had sudden epiphanies. Username: SierrasPen 😛
Update: I just “linked up” with Brooke’s Instagram Link Up. I didn’t know there was such a thing.
Fight or Flight.. Or Cry.
Posted onI don’t think I was programmed with the usual “Fight or Flight” Tendencies. I think when I am startled, adrenaline starts flowing out my tear ducts, and it might be easy to mistake the adrenaline juice for tears running down my cheeks.
I’ve had several incidents to prove this, but most recently, I tried to go grocery shopping at the “far away, cheaper, more enjoyable” grocery store. I figured I would save enough money to justify taking a taxi back to our apartment.
Wickedly Good–Kristin Chenoweth Recap
Posted onI was a ThesPian in high school and so I went through this rather alienating period where I listened to only Show Tunes. Les Mis! Phantom of the Opera! The Last Five Years! Little Shop of Horrors! Maybe I didn’t have very many cool-cool friends at that phase of my life, but I’m not sure if I’ve ever been happier. Try it.Listen to “Do You Hear The People Sing?” from Les Mis while you’re doing chores and tell me if you’ve never been more inspired as you are mopping the floor.
Tab Syndrome
Posted onSince I’ve become a temporary “Stay-At-Home-Novelist/Blogger/Pinterester/Reader/Lesson Planner,” I’ve spent a lot of time on my computer. You may have noticed. I’m a little embarrassed about it, but I am being more productive than you’d think.
Stop Everything, and Know that I Love You.
Posted onI should probably apologize to any of you who felt the world stop spinning somewhere between 7:00 and 8:00 this morning. That’s because Jeremy and I put the world on pause and just allowed ourselves to believe for a moment that we had all the time in the world to just be. We lapsed into a comfortable cuddle–not the kind filled with pointy scapulas, uneven weight distribution, and a little too much muscle tension. This cuddle was perfect and relaxing as we drifted in and out of sleep, and dreamed together about spending an entire day with the world on pause.