Teachers work hard. Really, really hard. In unexplainable ways, teachers are committed to their professions and the families they work with each year.

With that said, there certainly are some perks to the job. I’m not talking about the time off, because really - whether you buy it or not - it’s NEEDED to stay sane and regroup for the next group of youngsters.  I’m referring to the days when you give a test, or show a movie to follow-up after a novel, or have students type in the Mac lab and play on the computer once they’re all settled and don’t need you - um, especially if you’re me and know next to nothing about Macs &/or flash drives.

Today was a Mac lab day for my classes. During my second class of the day, I decided to actually see what I could teach myself on the Mac. I found a super fun photo morphing program and had a blast. Below is what I created. You have to look at each shot as an individual or it’s a little overwhelming!

Top: Freaky Ogre, Happy Alien, Freaky Ogre’s shy friend
Middle: Johnny Bravo, Jay Leno, Fang
Bottom: Pinochio, for my brother, That Kind Of Day

I’ve been on this money saving kick. It includes groceries. I’ve also been really wanting to try some recipes. Though that would mean spending money on the necessary ingredients. So, lately I’ve been playing Food Network in my kitchen for dinner.

Tonight, I whipped up some noodles and veggies in peanut sauce.  I boiled some angel hair pasta. We normally don’t have pasta at our house, but Mike keeps coming home with things that sit and sit in the pantry. I’m trying to use some of it up. Ok, so while I was boiling the pasta, I pulled some frozen zuchinni slices out of the freezer and the last of some baby carrot that were in the fridge. I sprayed a skillet down with olive oil cooking spray and threw in the frozen zuchinni. I chopped up the baby carrots and threw those in with some garlic powder on top of it all. While this stuff was simmering and boiling, I loaded the dishes from the night before. I love multi-tasking. When the noodles were ready, I drained them and tossed them in the skillet on top of the veggies. I piled on a scoop of crunchy peanut butter from another recipe and let it melt down so the peanuts would still be in the mix. I added some regular peanut sauce from the bottle and tossed it all up.

I was pretty proud of my gourmet meal. It would have been better with chicken. 

I’m really getting a knack for this creative cooking. I think it might be an inherited gift. I know that my brother has asked my parents to open a restaurant more than once. They both seem to like to toss junk into a pot, boil it, and serve it up as a family favorite known as Slop. My dad pours sugar and other sweet stuff into a pot, boils it, lets it harden into a cake pan and calls it Dad’s Fudge. My mom can toast just about anything, add some cheese and garlic, and viola a yummy side to our meal.

No matter where the talent came from, I’m grateful. And I’m having fun being creative. It makes the chore of making dinner less of a chore and more of a treat.

This past weekend was my ten year class reunion. I didn’t go. If I lived in Arizona, or somewhere within driving distance, I might have gone. I just felt like there are a lot of people I’d like to see, but that I could figure out a way to email them or something if I really wanted to catch up.

I was terribly wrong. My best friend called me on Friday night and passed the phone around to old firiends. I was overjoyed to talk to my friends from grade school and high school. I found myself crying when one of my very bestest friends from 7th grade took the phone. Not only had we been close in junior high, but had reconnected and maintained a friendship throughout college. I’m not sure what caused us to drift, but it’d been 6 years since I talked to this friend. I’m not sure where they came from, but tears just started streaming down my face. I spoke louder in hopes of covering the fact that I was weeping into the phone. I smiled big, even though he couldn’t see me. It was all very overwhelming. When I got off the phone, faces and names and memories just came flooding in. I made 5 phone calls back to Melissa that night. All of them while crying. I gave her a long list of friends to say hello to, high five, and hug. People I haven’t thought of in years. She even managed to find the courage to pass on my messages to people I knew, but she didn’t. She’s cool like that.

The rest of the weekend, I kept reliving different high school memories. I pride myself on having a great memory (my friends think I’m a freak because of it), but so much from high school has faded. The memories I still have are fabulous. Apparently, I didn’t hate that time of my life as much as my teenage self liked to say I did.  

I’m astonished by the fact that I reacted the way I did to talking to my old friends.
I am, without a doubt, going to my 20 year reunion.

I encourage you to go to your high school class reunions. I know you just rolled your eyes at me, but I’m serious. I had many thoughts about mine prior to the event. Everything I thought was negative - about how I didn’t really care for high school much outside of band anyway, how if the people I knew were REALLY my friends then they are STILL my friends, and that if I wanted to get in touch with people I would. Well, I’m begging you. Learn from me. I missed out. You don’t have to.

When I finally got my job, I celebrated with the purchase of a Nintendo Wii gaming system. I’d played it at a summer party and became somewhat obsessed with owning one. I do not like other video games. In fact, they annoy me. I think they are a waste of money and I have no fun playing them. Apparently, I have zero hand eye coordination - the main trait needed to work a gaming remote and sucessfully play the games. This is why I was so excited to learn that Wii only requires that you hold the remote! You just hold it and play a sport. I love it!

Another great feature, I’ve been enjoying  is Miis. You can create little cartoon people that look like the people playing that game. Too fun!

AND, you can play games with people far away. You just exchange unit numbers, and, via the Internet, you can play against people in other locations. I haven’t done this yet, but I’m all set-up to do so.

Now, while I adore my game and share it with everyone in my home, it does have a small drawback. Soreness. I had a few friends over this weekend. We boxed, bowled, and played tennis until our arms felt like lead. The following two days my back and arms were soooo sore as if I’d worked out with a body builder. I like being sore from physical activity, but this was a little much.

Next time, I’m stretching beforehand

I love my house. I have since I first set foot in the model home a year ago. I know, a year already! I can’t believe it either.
I knew there were going to be little annoyances here once I actually moved in, I expected it. I don’t know anyone who lives in a house and is pleased with every knook and cranny.
In my house it was the kitchen drawers and cabinets. I continuously was breaking my nails on the silverware drawer. I don’t understand why. My parents have similar drawers. And many other homes I’ve lived in do as well. Maybe it’s the height of it so the angle of my hand is different or something? I don’t know. I don’t care. I just didn’t want it to happen anymore. So, I convinced Mike to add knobs. I love them

Here are the before and after shots:

It’s about time, right? Time for me to get this thing updated and interesting?
I’m not making any promises as before, but I will tell you that life is a little more calm and I am making blogging more of a priority again. I’ve missed you all too much! I think the hard part of blogging is sometimes feeling like you’ve got nothing to say. Yes, even I sometimes feel at a loss for words. Not often, you’re right, but sometimes.

I was extremely stressed over the summer (when this blog went on sabatical). Unfortunately, I am someone who runs and hides when I can’t deal. I push my friends away and I sleep A LOT. Plus, I was fighting a battle.

When I was younger, maybe once in high school and then again in college, I’m sure I suffered from real, true, depression. Not just the “blues”. In college, when it was most severe, I was surrounded by my best friends (I lived with them). They’re the ones who pulled me back and made me keep fighting to get my life in order and be on top of my choices. They’re the ones who had hope when mine had vanished. It was the physical presence of these people who refused to give up on me. No matter how much I tried to make them join me in misery, I was defeated and they retaliated with stronger efforts to make me the person they still saw, but I couldn’t find. It was these friends who physically forced me to get dressed and dragged me (I’m talking literally here people) out of the house to join society when I certainly wasn’t about to choose that on my own. This went on for months. They never waivered in their efforts and slowly, but surely I was me again. I became a whole me again and vowed I would never let myself slip that far again. Ever. It was such a sad time in my life and to think about the fact that I was ever that low bothers me. Being that depressed ever again terrifies me. It’s number one on my list of fears (with getting old and peeing on myself #2). 

So, you can understand why this summer I needed lots and lots of me time. I could feel the internal fight brewing. I knew I didn’t have the physical presence of my friends this time around. I knew that I had to be prepared to fight this side of my emotions and that they would be there for the emotional supprt, but this time it was me. Mike’s here, yes, but he is A) a man (topic for a different post) and B) hadn’t yet seen my emotional fluctuations like this. I spent the early part of the summer overly optimistic. I reached a positive high, all the while knowing that it was going to become inceasingly difficult to stay positive about finding a new job and securing an income.  As the days past, I felt myself falling. Just a smidge more each day. I knew I’d created a good bumper, but more and more flashabacks of depression in college snuck in. At first, they scared me. I pushed the thoughts from my head. I realied then that I needed to face my fear head on. I decided to change my perspective. Something clicked one day, and I forced myself to remember all the little details of depression. All the little pieces and how illogical it all was, but how very real it felt in the moment. I used my flashbacks to keep me afloat. I used my memories to show me every day over and over what I needed to fight against. I knew every tiny detail of my opponent and I had the upper hand. I had an army in my friends and this time I got to be the leader. 

I did get knocked down. I had a melt down, but I got up the next day and, seeing the battle wasn’t over, continuted to fight. Mike saw a new side of me. A more vulnerable side. I was embarassed at first, but now am grateful that I was able to show him a new piece of myself. Another positive thing about this breakdown is that I recovered. I can’t say I did it on my own. My wonderful boyfriend stayed by me and did everything right. And my friends stayed positive no matter their personal worries for me. 

I made it. I didn’t fall so hard. I’ve never carried that amount of stress for that long before, and  I made it. Now, I’m happy as a clam as they say (though, I don’t know why, because don’t people eat clams?). I’ve got a fantastic job that I plan to stay at for a long, long time. And even better than that, I’ve tapped into this strength in me and I’ve learned how to stand on my own, with support yes, but I can keep standing on my own.

This summer was the longest, hardest fight I’ve ever gone through, but I made it out a stronger and better me.