In which I have learned a few things this week

If you are teaching at a school with a population largely made up of refugees and immigrants, you cannot assume that anyone, even the sixth graders, knows the lyrics to "Jingle Bells."
Second, fourth, fifth, and sixth graders can handle singing "don we now our gay apparel" without giggling about the word "gay." Third graders cannot.
Procrastinating going to bed does give me more time to hang out with my husband. However, it also makes me lethargic, cranky, and late for work the next day.
Jeans are not professional enough to wear to work. Unless they have a weird pattern or a bright color. Then they magically transform into business casual (my mint skinny jeans are really happy about this).
Audiobooks can make a 45 minute commute bearable in a way that the radio never will.

It's been an instructive week, to say the least.

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In which I share a string of possibly unconnected thoughts.

It's raining outside. Everything is misty, and the mountains are wrapped in heavy white clouds. It makes me homesick for this place: (Can you be homesick for a place that was never your home?) I think I'm long overdue for some Oregon beach-camping. Hopefully I can make it happen...next summer. In other news, yesterday was Norwegian Independence Day. Which doesn't mean much to me, except that I got to enjoy some good food and good company. I am officially in love with this: Oh, and this: That is all.

In which I pen a tribute to my ex-boyfriends

So, I promised a friend I would have something substantial up here by tonight. Another friend told me that I needed to post soon, because...MY READERSHIP! I didn't know I had a "readership" but if I do, I'd hate to disappoint them! So here goes. Lately, I've been getting a lot of questions about whether or not I'm dating anyone, or if I'm still dating "that one guy" (which has been used in reference to both the man I stopped dating about a month ago, and the other fellow I stopped dating over a year ago), or simply condolences that things didn't work out with some relationship or another. These questions and condolences are often coupled with the idea that I'll "find the right guy soon," or "I met my husband right after a break-up," or that "if it isn't right, it isn't right." And while I don't disagree with any of those statements, I also feel that these relationships and subsequent breakups,

On complicated friendships

When I was in ninth grade, I spent biology class goofing off in the back of the room with a table of all guys. These kids were some of my great friends and biology was full of excellent times dissecting pigs, telling jokes, and listening to the guys talk about the beautiful girls that made their lives miserable (ah, junior high...). One day they made an anti-girl club called "Chica de las Muertas" and they let me be an honorary member since, in Aaron's words, "You're practically a guy when you hang out with us." I'm not going to make this an analysis of my relative girliness or manliness, I'm quite comfortable with being a girl. However, I have a lot of experience being "one of the guys," and I love it. Historically, I've found it easier to establish and maintain friendships with guys than with girls. I tend to be less intimidated by guys. Since coming to college and living with roommates I've gotten much better at building wond

In Which I Am Alive

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