Random observations from my life:
-I seem to be physically incapable of spreading a bagel with cream cheese WITHOUT taking a bite somewhere mid-process.
-Women here use a whiny voice whenever they ask you for something in Spanish. Given my late mother's extreme disappreciation for whining of any sort, this annoys me.
-I just noticed last week that the telephone lines that run in front of my house are out of control. There are about 12 billion of them, all strung together without any sort of apparent rhyme, reason, or thought for safety.
-I wonder if there's a world-wide contest for The Most Terrible Sidewalks. If there is, I'm pretty sure Quito has it in the bag.
-I love it when my family and I exchange email comments like this:
(from someone in Ohio) "Today it got SO WARM! It was like spring. 37 degrees!"
(from me) "I 'bout froze my sweet bippy off today- it was freezing- only got up to 58!"
-Last week I got a rose from a (female...don't get excited) friend and it's still in perfect condition in its water-bottle vase in my classroom. This in spite of the fact that most of those roses wilted the same day. Maybe the hormones that fly around my classroom are preserving it?
-I noticed last week that the Kitchen Aide mixer that I bought off someone here when I arrived has a "Hobart Corporation; Troy, OHIO" stamp on it. That's where my dad used to work.
-Some of my kids seem to like me better in direct proportion to how much I reprimand them. Others are quite the opposite.
-Sitting through a middle school girls "Appropriate Touch" lecture ranks in my top ten least comfortable moments thus far. Right up there with the time two Russian guys (in various stages of drunkenness) I'd just met stripped down to their "pajamas" (aka, boxers) in front of me that time we got to share the 2 twin beds in the only bedroom in the house...as the honored guests, of course, we got the bedroom.
-Tomorrow's my birthday and I shall be 29. As a result TGIFriday's at the mall is going to give me a free dinner. This is good.
-Even though I know I should be offended at the guys on the street to whistle or cat-call when I walk by, I'm not. I can't help it. It makes me smile inside.
-Recently I began using a dry-erase marker to write the scripture verses I'm learning on the tiles on my bathroom wall. Writing on the wall makes me feel a little giddy, like I'm doing something a little bit wrong.
-I live on a volcano. Isn't that weird?
-Today I found out that the kid that I tutor in English is a genius at math.
-It's only 8:49 but I'm going to go shower and read Fellowship of the Ring until bedtime. I leave for work at 7:30 each morning, but it doesn't seem that early anymore. It does, however, make bedtime seem early.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Friday, February 6, 2009
Singleness Awareness Day, aka SAD
When I was a kid, Valentine's Day meant a card from Aunt Janet, a handmade card from Grandpa and Grandma House, and a small candy gift from Mom and Dad. Plus, it meant designing a valentines day box and exchanging cards with my classmates.
In college, Valentine's Day became Singleness Awareness Day. In protest, my college roommate, Joy and I always exchanged $5 gifts and worked hard at convincing ourselves that we didn't care that we were boyfriendless.
Now that college days have passed (and Joy has gotten married...traitor...) VDay/SADay (ironic? I think not) has sunk back into the line of not-really-noteworthy holidays. You know, days like Secretary's Day and Sweetest's Day (seriously, if this isn't a V-Day copycat, I don't know what is...) and National Pig Day (sorry, Joy).
However, I have decided to get over my Scrooge-like SADay tendencies and share a funny story with you, as it seems worthy of the season.
This Tuesday, I asked a fellow teacher if he'd pick up lunch for me at the restaurant where he usually goes for take-out. Unfortunately, said teacher (we'll call him Mr. Smith for his own sake) had lunch plans for Tuesday, but on Wednesday he emailed me to say he was going that day, and ask if I wanted anything. I replied with my order.
As 5th period (last class before lunch) rolled around, Mr. Smith came to my classroom to ask if I wanted lunch. He hadn't gotten my email. So, in front of my class I thanked him and gave him my order and some money.
As he walked out I wagered in my mind which student was going to say it.
But class went on, I got everyone settled working on homework, and I thought maybe, just maybe I had dodged the bullet.
Then Ji raised her hand.
"Miss Foster?"
"Yes, Ji."
"How old are you?"
(Eye rolling from Miss Foster...here we go...) "75"
(laughter all around the classroom)
Ji: No, seriously!
Me: I'll be 29 this month.
(pause as Ji thinks)
Ji: Then you should get married!
Me: You think so? Well, I'll take that under consideration. Thanks for the suggestion.
Ji: You should marry Mr. Smith!
(more laughter; I begin to turn red)
Me: Uh, what makes you think that?
Ji: He's lonely. He wants to get married!
Me: Really? Well, loneliness isn't really the best reason to marry someone...
Milton: Can we leave 1 minute early for lunch?
(I breathe a sigh of relief- new topic!)
Me: No.
Ji: I bet you don't want to leave early because Mr. Smith's bringing your lunch.
I could continue, but really the arguments weren't that convincing and I struggled to get control of the classroom (and my blushing) reasonably quickly. Ah, the joys of Middle School. Poor Mr. Smith. Poor me! I can only imagine the other side of this discussion that must take place in other classrooms. I guess I'll just pretend to be glad to have kids who are so concerned about my happiness! :)
In college, Valentine's Day became Singleness Awareness Day. In protest, my college roommate, Joy and I always exchanged $5 gifts and worked hard at convincing ourselves that we didn't care that we were boyfriendless.
Now that college days have passed (and Joy has gotten married...traitor...) VDay/SADay (ironic? I think not) has sunk back into the line of not-really-noteworthy holidays. You know, days like Secretary's Day and Sweetest's Day (seriously, if this isn't a V-Day copycat, I don't know what is...) and National Pig Day (sorry, Joy).
However, I have decided to get over my Scrooge-like SADay tendencies and share a funny story with you, as it seems worthy of the season.
This Tuesday, I asked a fellow teacher if he'd pick up lunch for me at the restaurant where he usually goes for take-out. Unfortunately, said teacher (we'll call him Mr. Smith for his own sake) had lunch plans for Tuesday, but on Wednesday he emailed me to say he was going that day, and ask if I wanted anything. I replied with my order.
As 5th period (last class before lunch) rolled around, Mr. Smith came to my classroom to ask if I wanted lunch. He hadn't gotten my email. So, in front of my class I thanked him and gave him my order and some money.
As he walked out I wagered in my mind which student was going to say it.
But class went on, I got everyone settled working on homework, and I thought maybe, just maybe I had dodged the bullet.
Then Ji raised her hand.
"Miss Foster?"
"Yes, Ji."
"How old are you?"
(Eye rolling from Miss Foster...here we go...) "75"
(laughter all around the classroom)
Ji: No, seriously!
Me: I'll be 29 this month.
(pause as Ji thinks)
Ji: Then you should get married!
Me: You think so? Well, I'll take that under consideration. Thanks for the suggestion.
Ji: You should marry Mr. Smith!
(more laughter; I begin to turn red)
Me: Uh, what makes you think that?
Ji: He's lonely. He wants to get married!
Me: Really? Well, loneliness isn't really the best reason to marry someone...
Milton: Can we leave 1 minute early for lunch?
(I breathe a sigh of relief- new topic!)
Me: No.
Ji: I bet you don't want to leave early because Mr. Smith's bringing your lunch.
I could continue, but really the arguments weren't that convincing and I struggled to get control of the classroom (and my blushing) reasonably quickly. Ah, the joys of Middle School. Poor Mr. Smith. Poor me! I can only imagine the other side of this discussion that must take place in other classrooms. I guess I'll just pretend to be glad to have kids who are so concerned about my happiness! :)
Friday, January 30, 2009
Safe, Dry, and Warm
The best part of rainy season is the time when you sneak home between downpours. You sit in your classroom during the last period of the day, listening to the students try to shout above the din and sigh, silently dreading the walk home in a few minutes. Will it be drizzly, or heavy-duty monsoon rain that floods the streets and makes every oncoming vehicle a hazard?
Today in Study Skills as I talked about how to take good notes, I did just that. Drizzle? Monsoon? Something in between? But then the bell rang and I realized I still had an hour of work to do before I could go home. By the time I'd finished, the rain had quit! Yippee! I walked home blissfully. In the not-rain.
And now as I sit dry and happy in my dining/living room, I'm watching the steady rain fall outside my window in the orange glow of the streetlight. I hear the chirp of the happy treefrogs, listen to the growl of traffic, and am thankful to be here. Safe, dry, and warm.
Today in Study Skills as I talked about how to take good notes, I did just that. Drizzle? Monsoon? Something in between? But then the bell rang and I realized I still had an hour of work to do before I could go home. By the time I'd finished, the rain had quit! Yippee! I walked home blissfully. In the not-rain.
And now as I sit dry and happy in my dining/living room, I'm watching the steady rain fall outside my window in the orange glow of the streetlight. I hear the chirp of the happy treefrogs, listen to the growl of traffic, and am thankful to be here. Safe, dry, and warm.
Saturday, January 24, 2009
To Really Love a Woman
In a taxi on the way to Quicentro a couple weeks ago, I heard part of the song "I'm Ready" by Bryan Adams.
For those who don't know, Quicentro is a mall. Bryan Adams is the king of romantic, admittedly sappy love ballads. I am a fan of both.
Anyway, hearing part of that song compelled me to dig out my greatest hits cd. I've been listening to it a lot since then. You know how sometimes you listen to a cd too much and get tired of it and then it gets put away and forgotten and then a couple of years later you unearth it and remember why you overplayed it in the first place? That's what happened. But here's the sad thing about Bryan....
...he's too romantic. Check out these lyrics:
"To really love a woman, to understand her, you gotta know her deep inside.
Hear every thought, see every dream, and give her wings if she wants to fly
And when you find yourself lying helpless in her arms, you know you really love a woman."
And in case the words aren't enough, listen to the Spanish guitars in the background.
I've never been in a significant relationship, but I know lots of people who are. And judging from what they say and how they act, I'm led to believe that this Bryan-Adamsy-ness is just a myth. This is depressing to me. Shouldn't I at least get to believe that relationships are like this until such time as I can be disillusioned by my own experiences?
Depressing. Sorry. There is no point or funny anecdote or profound thought to end this post. The end.
For those who don't know, Quicentro is a mall. Bryan Adams is the king of romantic, admittedly sappy love ballads. I am a fan of both.
Anyway, hearing part of that song compelled me to dig out my greatest hits cd. I've been listening to it a lot since then. You know how sometimes you listen to a cd too much and get tired of it and then it gets put away and forgotten and then a couple of years later you unearth it and remember why you overplayed it in the first place? That's what happened. But here's the sad thing about Bryan....
...he's too romantic. Check out these lyrics:
"To really love a woman, to understand her, you gotta know her deep inside.
Hear every thought, see every dream, and give her wings if she wants to fly
And when you find yourself lying helpless in her arms, you know you really love a woman."
And in case the words aren't enough, listen to the Spanish guitars in the background.
I've never been in a significant relationship, but I know lots of people who are. And judging from what they say and how they act, I'm led to believe that this Bryan-Adamsy-ness is just a myth. This is depressing to me. Shouldn't I at least get to believe that relationships are like this until such time as I can be disillusioned by my own experiences?
Depressing. Sorry. There is no point or funny anecdote or profound thought to end this post. The end.
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