Summer of Nothing

School is officially out! I have survived my third go around as a "first year" teacher. I spent the past 187 days working full steam ahead, and, as unglamorous as it truly is, I plan on spending the summer with all steam off. The excitement of the next two months for me consists of:

Cleaning house/home improvement (neglected for a full 10 months)
Sleeping late (like, until 7:00)
Working out (my passion, and I have let it fall by the wayside this school year)
Riding my NEW bike! (!)
Reading--both poolside and holed up in some highly air conditioned locale
Lunches with friends

As for travel, hold on to your hats:
Trip 1--the charming and underappreciated city of Harlingen (visiting grandparents)
Trip 2--wait...BIG D! Watch out.
Trip 3--(the biggie) the panhandle of Florida...oil spill permitting

And all I can say is I'm almost more excited about this Summer of Nothing than I have been about some of my other glammy summer adventures. If you haven't fallen asleep in your Cheerios from sheer boredom by now, check back. I'll try to keep you posted.

Promises, Promises

I'm thinking ahead. I'm very good at this. It's probably one of the biggest things that makes me an excellent teacher. I can forecast, foreshadow, predict and plan like nobody's business.

So 9 weeks from now school will be out. As of right now I have no intention of teaching summer school. This school year I have (and will continue to for 9 more weeks) worked my fare share plus the share of at least 4 others. I need a break. What that means is: two whole months of free time! Me time.

One of my goals this summer is to blog more. I have lots of junk bouncing around in my head. Chances are not one single soul is reading this, but on the off chance that you are, I plan to give you more to not read.

T minus 9 weeks, people. Person. No one.

Boobies

Today one of my students pointed to a lovely painting of a bird in the front hallway of the school. It was part of a collection of some fabulous student generated watercolors of all kinds of birds. The birds are labeled for scientific accuracy. My student says, "Look Ms. Barrett. It's says 'blue footed booby'."

I laughed so hard that coffee from 4 hours earlier shot out my nose.

I swear to God I could not make this stuff up. I love my job.

http://www.bluefootedbooby.net/

Things That Are Not Math But Still Don't Make Sense to Me

"Angelina Jolie buys Brad Pitt an $18,500 tree for Valentine's Day" the interweb tabloid says. I say, "Really?".

I bought myself $50 worth of books for my classroom at Goodwill and Half Priced Books for Valentine's Day.

I don't get it. I don't get how you have $18,000 to spend on a VALENTINE. And, if you do, how you spend it on a tree. I don't get how Hollywood freaks have more money than they know what to do with just for ...what? Being freakish? Meanwhile I work 7 days a week so I can still spend my own (limited) money to make my classroom better.

Maybe next year Angelina will consider making an $18,000 donation to room 404 in Brad's name. Shoot, I'd take $15,000 and try to not even complain.

Father-Daughter Bonding

Watching sports with my dad is about the best thing ever.

This weekend we watched an incredible basketball game. The unranked Aggies dominated the Number 1 Longhorns for an entire game and a tiny bit of overtime until they finally fell behind to lose the game.

Now we're watching the Dallas Cowboys fight (unsuccessfully) for a chance at another Super Bowl Championship. It's like old times back in 1994 when I first started teaching. I lived a mile away and spent every Sunday night crying about another rough week at school and helping Dad coach from the sofa.

Watching sports with my dad is about the best thing ever. Even when our teams lose.

Twits

There is a new law in Austin which says one is not allowed to text and drive. A good law as far as I can tell. It went into effect on January 1.

That same day, January 1, I was driving in my car, and was stopped at a red light. I was using my phone to update my Twitter status. Out of the corner of my eye I was vaguely aware of the car next to me inching forward and moving in an odd manner. I was engrossed in my tweeting, and, anyway, I have learned to ignore the antics of the cars around me because, being the super hot female I am, I am convinced they are filled with men trying to get my attention. They never are.

Except in this case. I finally looked to my left, and the fellow in the car next to me is gesturing wildly. I realize he's trying to get me to let him in so he can turn right at the light. He is a twenty-something, and so is the girl sitting in his passenger seat. I roll my window down to clarify his request, and to confirm that I will, indeed, let him get in front of me to make his right turn. Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, and all that.

He proceeds to inform me that he is lost, and he's sorry he has to cut in front of me, and, by the way, "You're not supposed to be texting and driving."

My initial response is to be slightly annoyed with him. I mean, who is he to be correcting my bad driving habits? He's trying to cut in front of me to take a right turn because he's lost for pity's sake. But then I decide to interpret it as a gesture of friendliness. He's saving me from an altercation with the pigs.

Still, I reply, "I'm not texting and driving. I'm tweeting. And stopping."

"What's tweeting?" he asks.

"You know. Twitter." I tell Mr. 20-whatever.

"What's Twitter?" he asks.

Really? Here I am, an almost 40 something, breaking technology news to a 20 something? Hm.

"Google it," I say as the light turns green and we roll off on our respective merry ways.

Happy New Year.