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Showing posts from October, 2010

I would give you some violets, but they withered all when my father died

I apologize for neglecting you all so long - it's been a busy couple of months! But what better way to resurrect (haha!) my blog than with some good ol' Halloween fun... allow me to present Ophelia, dead: He is dead and gone, lady, He is dead and gone; At his head a grass-green turf, At his heels a stone. Ophelia, from Shakespeare's Hamlet , drowns towards the end of the play, possibly as an act of suicide after the man she loves rejects her and (unrelated to that) kills her father. I used a makeup kit from the Halloween store to do most of the look - I did set my face makeup with UD's Razor powder, and I used a couple eyeshadows on my lips (Kiddie Pool and Revolver). I also put on some MAC Zoom Lash mascara haphazardly (after I took the above photo) and then sprayed my face with UD's All-Nighter setting spray, just to make the mascara smear a little. I also put TONS of gel in my hair to give it that wet look, without actually, you know, giving myself a co

Fat! So?

(Yes, I realize that that is the actual name of someone's book. But it's so clever!) Today, I am discussing the idea of fat acceptance with my sophomores. And it's only natural that it gets me thinking about my own attitudes towards fat people and being fat myself. I am fat. No two ways about it. I don't remember the last time I checked my body fat percentage, but I remember that it was in the high 40's. My body is almost HALF fat. It's just a fact. However, because I am also in fact big-boned and muscular, I'm probably a little smaller than other people who are my same height and weight. But yeah... it's the truth: I'm fat. That's a loaded statement of course. I have said "I'm fat" to other people, and been greeted with responses of, "No you're not! You're just big-boned!" or "You're not skinny , but you're not, like, fat fat!" Fat has become such a dirty word, and being fat brings on a wh

Couch to... anywhere other than the couch

I've decided to start running again. Being at the Nike marathon and being passed by old ladies and little girls in tutus made me realize how much I want so badly to be a badass runner. I DO want to do a marathon someday, but it's stupid of me to bank on that when I can't even run a full mile right now. So I'm going to do what I always tell other people, and start slow. If I do the full Couch-to-5k program in its entirety, I should be able to run a full 30 minutes in 9 weeks. There are 9 weeks left in this calendar year - how about I achieve a New Year's resolution before the new year begins? And I'm not going to commit to anything larger than this right now, beyond those 9 weeks. I tend to set very high goals for myself, which I guess is a good thing (because at least I'm ambitious), but I inevitably fall short of them because my body's limitations cannot stretch that far that quickly. I know I can run 3 miles because ONE TIME I actually ran a full

Oh, what have I gotten myself into with this girl...?

Yesterday afternoon, Jolie was climbing on the couch when she bumped her head really lightly on the wall - REALLY lightly. (I've seen her hit her head harder than that and crawl away without even a frown.) She probably wouldn't have made a fuss if I did suddenly gasp... once she heard me, she made a sad pouty face and touched her hands to her head, as if to say, "Oh, my poor head!" So I went over and gave her a hug, and put her back down, and she started playing again. A couple minutes later, she called me over and pointed at the tv - she wanted me to bring her over to the tv so she could mess with the stereo equipment. I said, "No, Jolie, I'm not bringing you over there." She whined a little bit, and when I still wouldn't do it, she touched her hands to her head and made a sad pouty face again, "Oh, my poor head!" :) Trying to milk her "injury" to get my pity! I think Jimmy and I couldn't stop laughing for ten whole minut

Turn and face the strain

I've been contemplating a career change for a while now. At first I thought that maybe teaching somewhere different - a school less crowded, or a school with a more motivated students, perhaps - would make things better, but the more I think about it, the more I want to leave the classroom completely. I love making connections with students and I love sharing my love and knowledge of literature with others, but I'm not entirely sure that this is the life I want to lead. I find myself struggling to fit the mold of "teacher" because I am not what a teacher is traditionally supposed to be. And I don't think there are enough people like me to start some sort of revolution of non-traditional teachers. - I'm not a stickler for rules and discipline and forcing children to behave. I hate it, I really do. Maybe I'm more college-y when it comes to this point, but I'm very much of the "If you don't like it in my class, get the hell out" way of t

Trying to be an adult about this

As I'm sure most people do, I have an angsty teenage girl lurking in my psyche. Sometimes when I get upset about things, she tends to come out. Right now, I'm upset about some friends. Now, we're all adults, and I should be an adult about this, but the hurt little girl inside me is stamping her foot pretty persistently. I have these friends who I used to be really close to, whom I would talk to all the time and see all the time. When I was going through some tough times, I really depended on them, and they were absolutely there for me. We're not so close anymore. Not because of any falling out - they're just really busy, and they live further away now, and we don't see each other as much. But now we don't even talk as much, either. No particular reason, we just... don't. And it makes me sad. But I'm so afraid to bother them, because they're so busy all the time (by their own admission), that I don't extend any invitations or anything or t

If Eternal Sunshine taught me anything...

Looking back at everything that's been going on these past couple of weeks, I'd have to say that I do not regret my time spent with the Mizfitz. I don't regret leaving either, but I don't regret being there in the first place. I did improve my skating, and I met some really wonderful people, who ended up becoming my really good friends. It's not every day that you meet girls who are willing to hit other girls for you :)

Is there any such thing as too many knitting bags?

Jordana Paige's new LJ Kaelm's bag ! I SO want this bag. It'll be the perfect way to carry around my grading AND my knitting AND my iPad and still look cute. If it could fit my laptop as well, I'd cry tears of joy.

Onwards and upwards.

I have to try to word this delicately. I don't have, like, a large blog audience or anything, but the fact remains that it IS public, and that ANYONE could be reading it. I have decided to part ways with my derby league. Without getting into any detail about it, because I want to respect league confidentiality, suffice it to say that I was not happy, and felt that my only course of action was to remove myself from what was turning into a volatile situation. There are many I'm leaving behind whom I adore and have come to respect and trust, and those individuals have been very supportive of my reasons for leaving. I am disappointed that the non-derby part of derby has gotten in the way of my enjoyment and my participation, but apparently this is not an uncommon phenomenon. (I refer you to the derby documentary, Hell on Wheels .) In leaving, I have caused some individuals to be very upset with me, and I guess that's to be expected. No one's safe from conflict, especial

So excited!

My first real trip through the playoffs with the Giants!