Chapter 2 of the woman who lived in a shoe.

There is no room for me on my bed. Maybe I should get a mule and ride to another inn. The bed is FULL of animals...2 dogs, a cat, and a fat human. I think I will have to sleep criss-cross-apple-sauce!

Work today was good. I taught ALL day, but seemed to make them laugh and yet follow the lecture well. I like it when I am prepared for class; things just go better. Duh. Isn't it what I teach?

The Drama Queen

I think I am, I must be. Today I lost it. For all that I am, I felt dejected, uncared for, dumb, and plain used. It has been leading up to this, boiling and toiling, until yesterday the anger and today the tears. Luckily, the tears were among only a couple friends and not at work. Where to start?

This summer I worked full time, teaching everything they let me get my teach on. My break consisted of one week at the very beginning when I went to Sonoma, CA and broke my foot (Cirque du Soliel tryouts). Then I taught and taught and taught. Then one more week off for which I spent the entire time in Dallas helping my grandparents. Then, school started and as of the Sunday before school on Monday, I didnt know what I was teaching. Now, some of it was perhaps my fault. However, it was circumstantial mostly. For example, I had been working all semester on a project named PDAI (Professional Development Academy Internship) which included an assessment class which met at the school and paired our student teachers with kiddos for tutoring. I got the school, the principal, the books, the supplies, the syllabus...but the students kept coming. Our college is in the midst of a growth spurt which is lovely. I do love the new faces and want us to grow and prosper. But the classes grew over 30 which made it impossible to fit everyone in-that meant 60 people in a little ole library! So, I said I didnt and couldnt teach it out int he field. My department head told me, "Then you don't have to teach it," and promptly gave the classes to my friend (whom I called to help us , as we have many students and not enough faculty. Now, when she was given the class, she was told she didnt have to teach it out in the field. How fair is that? Then there was this research class for which I taught the first half in the summer. So, naturally I was signed up for the second half this fall. And the class grew and grew. Now that class is a master's class and the class in which the students begin writing their thesis. With too many, it is impossible for me to edit and advise them all. So, I went to my chair who said if I took the class I would be in charge of them all. I refused. So, he gave it to another faculty member who was told he did not have to advise them all. Not fair. Then, there was the issue of a foundations class which had grown to 62 people. 62! Because he had split classes for two of my colleagues and they were given the opportunity to then teach both sections (making only one prep and half the class time as they only came either T or THURS), I asked to have the same done. HE refused saying he could find someone else to teach the other half because it was a foundations class. So screwed over three times and not in a good screw kinda way! So, yesterday was the breaking point. The chair came in and told our department that no one was going to be able to get their overload. There were 3 people (including him) getting it as we had all agreed to teach an additional class for 3,000$. He told us we could teach it but wouldnt get paid. What the hell is that? So, of course, I said no. Now today I went to my writing meeting and found out that only myself and the other faculty member werent allowed to and himself and his right hand woman were allowed to. What the fuck is that? I had a baby tantrum in front of my writing group friends. Tears, snot, anger...I was fed up-even the 10000 calorie, fresh-baked roll covered in real frosting didn't help. Now, hours later, Im over it-still wondering if I made a mistake coming here to work-but over the issue. The department chair did try and make it better by offering me another choice. He tried.

Now, I am sitting in the office with two pups-one newly infertile and sleeping away on an ottoman, cuddled in a baby blanket and one in her bed, round like a rump roast, snoring to some weird phenobarbitol induced dream. I think I have inherited my mother's sickness. I call it dogitis. It is when you see a dog, you fall in love and can't stop yourself. I'm in love I think...I'm going to be the old lady who lived in a shoe, who had so many animals she didn't know what to do. I hope it is a bright colored platform.

I teach all flipping day tomorrow-hours with NO break so I must head to bed for a low key computer episode of Kathy Griffin's Life on the D-List.

The vortex of want and need

This past Friday my dear friend Loretta came to visit me in SA. It was nice to have her hear and I was excited to see her. As always there were plans of shopping and food. Those were shot to shit when on our way to eat a fabulous sushi dinner, a little stray poodle was hunkered down by a stoplight, trying to cross the street right next to the highway. I looked at Loretta, she looked at me. Yeah-you got it. We stopped, got the dog (who stunk so bad our eyes were watering) and proceeded to find a clinic that could tell us if she was microchiped. One guess. Nope. I hate the way that San Antonio thinks dogs are trash, that they can just let them loose if they are sick. This little girl, hereby called Zoey, was heartworm negative but had tapeworms. My favorite part was the look on Loretta's face when she realized the butt of the dog (which they were leaking out of) had been on her lap for over an hour! After a bath for the flea infestation, de-worming, and a notice that she wasn't spayed, she came home with us. In all, we were dealing with this mutt from about 5:30-11pm. That was the 210$ night. The next morning, calls to the SPCA, Humane Society and plentiful rescue groups. I want to lodge a complaint about that! All of the recuse groups said they get their dogs from the pound and wouldn't take one from me. The SPCA Humane Society places were "full." Yeah, you heard me, they wouldn't take her and told me to take her to the pound. Now, she is getting spayed on Wednesday and is being crate trained, housebroken, bathed daily, frontlined, walked, and cleaned up after until she can find a home. So, in all, the frontline is 15$, the first visit was 210$, the crate and bed was 75$, the spay is 70 for a grand total of $380, not including time. But of course, saving a dog? PRICELESS.

My House

First Day of School

Again. I am wondering as I write this how many "first days" I have endured. I mean really...K-12 all had one first day. The freshman-senior had 4X2 semesters which is 8, then teaching school was 3 times, then MEd was 2x2=4, then PhD was 4x2=8...so 36 in total, plus this last year of 4, and yesterday. That is a butt load, also known as 41. I have had 41 first days of school. Well, needless to say they don't keep me up and excited anymore. Weird though as each is different. So, yesterday was my 41st first day of school. I am teaching 4 courses (Foundations of Reading, Diagnosis and Remediation of Reading Difficulties, Cognitive and Developmental Psychology for Elementary Teachers, and Ditto for secondary teachers). That is also know as a lot of classes. I teach three of those on Thursday. So yesterday I taught from 2-3:30, 4-6:45, and 7-10. I was a tired person by the end. I was so exhausted I succumbed to Burger King for dinner and it tasted delicious.



Ive decided I am addicted to Diet Vanilla Cokes from Sonic. I mean, I crave them...the little ices, the sweet vanilla mixed with the cancer causing diet coke. Ummm. It is an expensive habit though unless you go between 2-4 for half price which I cant because I am working. $1.83 a day. I think that is why I am having to work an extra class this semester.

My brother, who moved to Houston a couple months ago, told me something shocking yesterday. He calls daily to check in which I love. He isnt drinking anymore, which I also love, so he uses the phone to get the support he needs. Anyway, he told me that he was "not going to hook up his cable because he gets a lot more done without the TV." What the hell? Okay, this is a guy who had all the extras when in Dallas. He has a 60 inch flat screen and TIVO and everything. He used to tease me incessantly about me not having cable. Now, I do and he is not getting it! The world is a crazy place. I think those in Hell are enjoying the cold front.

I've taken on curling my hair which is pretty. Wonder how long it will last. It is so long and looks cute when it is done (if the rain would stay at bay the frizzies would too!). I even like it on day two in a pony tail. It balances my Dumbo ears.

Could the rambling go on more?
So, I am working hard and missing people but don't feel like I want to sit and talk for hours on the phone. I think it is all the talking I have done in school so far. So, ciao.

Jen

Disposed of

Why are old people disposed of, cast away, let to rot? My grandparents, whom I love dearly, have family that live a mere 3 miles away. One drives past their house daily on the way to work. Yet, they have no one who is able to help. When I come in, I am responsible for everything-figure out the checkbook, the payments, what is happening at the house, clean this, grandpa that. Everything is a phone call, numerous phone calls, wait time, birth dates, pensions, social security...on and on. I have had to work on my grandpa's legs which have skin peeling off, boils, and other ouchies. Put lotion and chisel (yes, chisel) off the dry skin and other dead areas. My mom asked if I wanted to go eat Mexican food when I got home. Uh, no. So, that is where I have been this week, in Carrollton, being the best granddaughter that they have close-by-or at least trying.

I have 4 classes starting on Thursday that I have planned nothing for. I dont know what I will do. I spent last night from about 7-midnight at a coffee shop working, but only got a proposal out for the International Conference on Learning. I need to go to Barcelona, don't you all think?

So, to all of you who wonder where I am because I am not answering the phone...I am alive, just overworked and unable to think about talking on the phone for even one short call. I will be in touch.

I just...

don't wanna. I don't wanna do it. No, I don't. I don't!

Summer Break Realization

Okay, so in the last year, which for us teachers begins in August, I have taught 12 classes. 12! I have taught foundations of reading, MA reading foundations, content area literacy classes, a emergent literacy class for MA, an assessment and remediation class, a research methods class for MA students and an early childhood curriculum class. I am dead tired. The part of this job that is my favorite (teaching) feels not so fun! And now that the second summer session is ending (Thursday is the final exam), I realized that I have one week. One week! In that week I have to get my brother taken care of at his apartment in Houston, hire a nurse for my grandparents (include in that job cleaning out a room to rent and interviewing), and make syllabi and readings for 4 more classes. Oh yes, and post and grade the rest of the summer session stuff. Then, on the 18th, I begin it all again. Shit balls.

I did a fun thing this last Monday. I took Augustina, a child I taught in the 4th grade a few years back, to Fiesta Texas Six Flags. She is a lovely kiddo who came from Africa the year I taught her. As such, she had never been to an amusement park. The sounds, the expansive nature, the games were experiences that made her eyes swell. She twirled (as I watched) and we rode roller coasters till she begged to quit. I must say that I have always loved coasters, but perhaps I am getting old as I hurt my neck on the Tony Hawk coaster.

So, how do I spend the next couple of hours? Do I work on the article I am writing with Jackie? or the one with Diane? Do I start the syllabi? Or do I, go watch Flipping Out, and laugh at the craziness of someone else? Where does everyone get the energy?

Okay, I'm going to work on Jackie's article for one hour and then one syllabus for one hour. Then the new episode of Flipping Out.

Mitzie Mouser Dog

So, I have this idea that my dog, aka Mitzie Mouse, misses me when I am gone. I mean, why wouldn't I get that idea? She looks so forlorn when I leave, tail down, eyes away (I'd almost swear there were tears every damn time!) and when I return, she runs in circles, eyes alight, and tail wagging gleefully. However, today I have been home all day, working on AERA proposals. And where, might you ask, has the Mouser been? Laying next to my feet? No. Laying under the desk? No. In her bed which was brought into the office specially for her? No. Out in the living room on pallet? Yes. Who is the crazy one? I think it might be me.

If it was, I would claim it is because of the American Educational Research Association. Those 100 page abstracts and proposals and SIG's and Divisions. I mean am I division G, section 1 or maybe section 7? Does it go in a division or should I go for a SIG. It takes at least an hour to just plain submit the silly thing! Then I have to wait to hear if I was "chosen." I think that this notion of being "chosen" or "rejected" is not good for my wanning interest in professorhood. I mean, who wants to be constantly rejected? So, for me, my favorite data (my dissertation data) keeps being rejected. They say it isn't literacy enough, that the children couldn't have said the quotes I used (Are they saying I am a lier?), and that my notions of reading are not as good as theirs. Still, they accept other piddly things I work on just because they like the idea, literacy related or not. For example, a colleague and I co-taught a literacy methods class last Spring. There was not a thing literacy related to the proposal we submitted to NRC (National Reading Conference) other than the fact that the class was a reading methods course. But, they said they liked the idea of co-teaching, it was novel, and it got an acceptance. Fuckers.

So, today I have finished uploading and am about to go to dinner with a frenemy. You know, the kind you continue to see only rarely and every time you do, you remember why it was that you weren't seeing them? Then there is a hiatus and over time you forget again?