In Which I Am Alive

So, this semester I'm participating in the Artsbridge Scholar program at my university, where I get to work in an elementary classroom helping to integrate music into their curriculum. I'm going to be going to a 4th grade class once a week to teach music, and I am incredibly excited. As part of the program, I'm required to document my experiences in a blog. If you're interested in seeing what I'm up to, you can check it out here:  http://karissateachingadventure.wordpress.com/

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving. Thanksgiving is my favorite.  Also, I visited the dump today, which I had never done before. And yesterday, I decided that fourth grade is my favorite grade to teach, which is ironic, considering it was my least favorite grade to be in. Also, today will be the first time I've ever listened to more than one Sufjan Stevens song in a row. And I can't decide how I feel about him. I think we're going with, "Bizarre, but in a way that kinda really appeals to me." But I'm not sure. Maybe I just like it because people have been telling me for years how much I would like Sufjan Stevens. That is all.

Our poor stake president. Just trying to get all us singletons married off. Never even saw it comin'. "Girls should be the passive ones. Don't argue with me!" he glared at those who giggled. "Boys need to be more aggressive." "Have you ever seen a flower chasing a bee?" he continued, "No! Flowers just stand there, and look pretty and smell sssoooo gooooood." And then a raised hand, "President, you do know that any bee you see outside the hive is female, right? The male bees stay inside the hive and pretty much do nothing." Made. My. Day. EDIT: I should admit that I took a little artistic license on this one. What he  actually  said was that all bees are girls. Which isn't true. So I changed it, because it's my blog and I can do that.

Sometimes I go back and read my old posts, and change around the words and phrases I don't like. Because I can't do it in real life, so it's nice to be able to do it somewhere . In fact, I just did it with this post. One full paragraph, GONE. Just because I can.

Hipsters, the twenty-first century enigma. Everyone has seen them. Everyone can recognize them. But when asked what exactly a hipster is, we all find it problematic to describe them without incriminating ourselves. We mock them. We revile them. We make blogs about them. And we protest vehemently if anybody accuses us of being them (except for those of us who wish we were cool enough to be hipsters...but that's an issue for another post) The main beef people seem to have with hipsters is that they are disingenuous. They listen to obscure music to sound sophisticated (but not music so obscure that nobody will be impressed by the band names). They eat organic food, wear TOMS shoes and recycle in order to appear socially aware. They dress in thrift store clothes to look original and unique, but really just end up looking like everyone else who shops at thrift stores. They liked Arcade Fire before  they won a Grammy. (As a brief side note, will everyone please t...

Since I'm going to teach elementary school one day, (well, actually tomorrow, if you count guest-teaching in somebody else's classroom as "teaching elementary school,") I think it's important I take a stand on a very divisive, and yet important, issue. Markers versus Crayons. I thought about listing the relative merits of each, but really all the marker has going for it is a lack of controversy about the pronunciation of its name. (Everybody, crayon is pronounced CRAY-ON. Not "cran." Not "crown." Not "crenn." Ok?) So I'll just list all the reasons why crayons are the superior coloring implement: With crayons, you don't get ink all over your hands and then leave inky smudges all over your previously-pristine visual aids. Crayons never run out of ink. Kids can't vandalize each other's faces with crayons. Crayons give you a much more brilliant color than markers, typically. There is so much tactile satisfact...

The phrase: "Attitude of Gratitude." I don't know why, but it makes me cringe. Every. Single. Time. The Washington Post Social Reader Facebook app. I refuse to download the app because I don't want the entire Facebook community to know that I'm reading about "Beyonce's Incredible, Unique, Miraculous Pregnancy." This means, however, that I get to see all the tantalizing headlines from articles my friends are reading, without being able to read them myself. It's...maddening. Spotify. For similar reasons. Too-long eyelash extensions. Girls, having baby tarantulas attached to your eyelids is not attractive. The dating scene. I would like to either be completely single and romance-less, or have a boyfriend who loves and adores me. None of this going on dates with boys who I don't actually like that much. None of these mini-crushes on menfolk who won't ever reciprocate. As Patrick Henry once said, give me true love or give me asexuality...