Why are There First Graders on Zoloft?!?

There's only fifteen minutes before the students start arriving and I can't find a lesson plan at all. Nothing. There's a calandar... and some jolly ranchers in the teacher's desk... but no lesson plan. What was she thinking?! Getting sick and calling in and not leaving the sub a lesson plan? How evil. What are we supposed to do? Play heads-up seven up all 8 hours? Five minutes ago another fifth grade teacher came in to inform me that this class is "troubled", something that I hear almost every time I go in to sub for someone. They're all troubled. They're kids. Everything is a crisis. A typical day in the life of a sub goes like this. You can't really prepare at all. You can't even get there early because the damn phone system likes to call you less than a half hour before you're supposed to be at school. So y'know. Chaos and all. It's all different when the kids arrive though. It doesn't matter how "troubled" they are. I'm teaching. I'm actually teaching! My lord. I'm writing on a white board and using the stupid overhead projector and taking down names of the annoying kids. Crazy! I wasn't sure if I'd be a good teacher but then they come up to me with pictures of deformed dinosaurs that they've drawn for me with "miss k" written on it... and I think... I can do this! I can be a teacher. I mean, when you're an actual teacher you get to plan and be early and get to know the kids. It's gotta be a million times better. Yes, I think it's totally do-able! ... then again... that kid over there is sleeping... and that other one is biting his "best friend" on the arm. Again... sigh.

What? There's no Crying in Karate?!

I've only ever had one achievement in my life that made me cry. And I'm not talking about a couple of tears glistening on my cheek. I'm talking like, I had to turn around so everyone couldn't see me bawling like a freaking baby. It happened when I got my black belt. I'm not exactly an athletic person being as short as I am, so karate is the only "sport" that I've ever joined and not felt like a complete failure. I guess if you can't be good at a team sport, you can always enlist in beating people up. That I can do. Karate isn't just fighting for me though. In fact, I really would never want to get into a real fight. I don't want to hurt anyone. This statement would probably make most laugh because I'm so small, but the fact of the matter is that I really do know how to break bones. I just hope I never have to.

I wasn't ready to test for my black belt the night I got it. I'd told sensei time and time again that I didn't think I was at that level. I still felt like I was flailing around like a retarded monkey with a bo staff. But sensei, being the teacher that she is, disguised the test as a simple class exercise. Smart of her, really. I probably would have thrown up or ran out of the dojo the moment I got wind of a test. So when I got called up at the end of that particular class and she pulled a black belt out of her gi (like a freaking magician), my brain froze for a good five minutes when I shook everyone's hand and then I had to excuse myself so I could run to the parking lot and cry in my car. Some tough black belt. It was so unexpected and so awesome that there wasn't much else to do but cry. I was so proud of myself and wished that my family could have been there to see. Or even friends. Course then they'd have to watch the waterworks and I didn't need that. I still can't believe it even though it happened over a year ago. I just hope that when I get 2nd don someday, I won't have to run off the premesis like a sop.

You're in my bubble...and you're naked.

I would like to take a moment to comment on the gym. Not just any aspect of the gym... more specifically the locker room. Yes, the women's locker room. Generally a haven to all who are tired, sweaty and need a shower, the women's locker room is no longer a place that I want to be. At all. I need my shower. I need to get into my locker to change my clothes. But I am interrupted in my goings about because of all the nakedness. Yup. Nine-A.M.- retired-old-lady-wrinkly-nakedness. There's nothing wrong with being old. Nothing wrong with being naked. But there is something wrong with walking around the locker room for many minutes at a time talking to all your friends with everything just wafting in the breeze. That's just wrong! It's not just the old ladies. The younger women do it too. It disturbs me. When I 'm changing, I want to get my clothes back on as fast as humanly possible. In fact, I'm a strong believer in changing in the bathroom stalls. If you're going to be naked, be naked in your little corner of the locker room. Don't be doing squats in the middle of the floor. Don't try to talk to me about your granddaughter unless you've got some coverage goin on! I don't care if you have a perfect body, or if your body looks like it's been through a freaking taffy puller, stop parading around! It's effing awkward. Then there's that arguement; "we're all women, we've seen it before". No. Screw that. Just because we're in the same sex category doesn't mean I want to see you naked. In fact, that seems even more of a reason to not see you naked. Now, if you'd be so kind to pass me the nearest spork. I need to gouge my eyes out.

A little more mwahaha if you don't mind

I was watching Heroes the other day and I came to an interesting realization. I am captivated by villians. I can't get enough of them. Yeah, it's strange. Don't get me wrong, I like Luke Skywalker as much as the next person. And I definately don't like the real-life villians that go around like... eating babies. There's just something about being so incredibly evil and yet not caring that intrigues me. I would feel guilty. Guilty and all... dirty. If you killed half the people that Ben from Lost killed, you can't help but feel the need to take a shower. It's this lack of conscience that fascinates me. I just can't fathom living with myself after force choking someone. That and sometimes the villians are hot. Minus the caterpillar eyebrows, Syler is yummy. I'm just saying. The fact that all villians have that little bit of goodness in them that could alter their actions at any minute, well... that's just good television. The best villians are the ones that you aren't sure whether or not they're actually villians. They do horrid things, but then turn around and do something good. It confuses you and always keeps you guessing which is why villians are so much better characters than heroes. Unless the hero feel compelled to kick shins once in a while. Perhaps it's because I'm oh-so-predictable. Maybe it's because I'm determined to be good. Whatever it is, I heart them villians. I heart them much.

Socially Stunted. Squared.

I went to Greeley today. I wasn't entirely sure why at first. Because of boredom possibly? I mean, it's Greeley. It's boring. It smells like cow. But once I got back up here, I realized that my social life now is pretty non-existant. I know that graduating college is a huge reason for that. Being an adult sucks. You pretty much have to kill yourself working just to exist... where's the time to hang out? It's not fair that in college you have people around you all the time to hang out with and then once you move, boom. No people. Unless you're one of those 20-somethings that refuse to grow up and spend your weekends passed out on the couch of your old frat buddy. Then there's plenty of friends. Friends that want your free beer. But for the rest of us, life seems to go from crazy fun-ness to a big huge smack of reality in your face. Sure, you'll have the occasional friend want to go out dancing or out to dinner once a week if you're lucky, but it's nothing like college used to be and I freaking miss it. I miss movie night where we used to cram more people into our little basement apartment than we had couches for. I miss going to karate (soooo much!) and yes, I even miss TK. Not so much the stupid work and the cleaning up after piggish freshmen who don't know how to put ranch on their salad without spilling it all over the counter, but the people. TK is where I met most of my friends and even though the work was tedious and annoying sometimes, it was still fun. Admit it TK workers, it was fun. It's ridiculous how fast college went by now that I think about it. But then again, when I was actually in classes, the days just dragged on. I miss it so much. I feel like such a boring, anti-social adult now! What happened in that transition between college and career? It's cruel! Sometimes I wake up in the morning and go "Where's my dorm room? Where's the frisbee golf course? What happened to that 4 and a half years of my life I just ran through?! Take me back!" Damn responsibility. Stupid job. Just give me back my textbooks and dining hall.

Ninjas. On my snowboard.

Today it feels as if I was attacked by ninjas in my sleep last night. I went snowboarding yesterday and let me tell you... I suck. Despite this glaring fact, I still go because I love the experience. It was a clear, cloudless day... absolutely perfect snowboarding weather. No wind. Just the mountain and the sky. When you're 13 some-odd thousand feet up in the air, you begin to wonder who first had the crazy idea of going 40 miles an hour down a mountain on nothing but a plank of wood. Crazy bastard. And yet, there I was- rocking gently on a rather high ski-lift that seemed to be carrying me to the freaking summit. Up that high, the sky takes on a whole new quality of blue. It's undescribable. I felt as if I squinted hard enough, I would be able to make the faint outline of stars. It's that high. It's that blue. My awe of God's creation was brought to an abrupt stop however, when I came to the end of the lift. Curse you ski lift! How anyone can get off of the lift without falling on their ass is beyond me. It's going so fast when I dismount that I feel like I should tuck and roll. Instead I just flail and fall. Which is pretty much how the day went. Luckily, I was with a very understanding friend who would ski off a little ways and glance back just in time to see me (once again) on my butt in the snow. He didn't get impatient with me and my apologies were always followed by a "you're fine". By the time I was getting used to the board again, I was so sore that I could barely stand and kept falling only because I was so tired. Sigh. This trip just made me inescapably aware that although I do many things (like paintball and golf), I'm not especially good at any of them. Oh well. At least I do stuff. Even if I suck. Even if I feel like I've been ran through a meat tenderizer.

Vertically Challenged My Ass

In kindergarten I couldn't reach the light switches in my house. I'll now take the following moment to let you laugh until that Mountain Dew you're drinking leaks out of your nose....

Yeah. That's right. You tall people don't even know. I don't mind being a meager 4'11'' now, but my God... I did in childhood. You remember when they used to force you to take class photos? They'd shuffle everyone outside in your (freakin sweet) light-up shoes onto make-shift bleachers outside. Then they would order everyone tallest to shortest. No big deal- unless you're always (and I mean ALWAYS) the shortest. Perpetually stuck in every class photo on the bottom right-hand corner, I began to feel as if the business of tallest-to-shortest was more of some sadistic value system. The tallest being the coolest (hence on the top bleacher!) and the shortest being well... the runt of the litter and decidedly, un-cool. Junior high brought on more than one smart-ass kid that would regularly play keep away or, even better, take my homework and put it on top of the lockers. They knew that the only way I was gonna get up there was a ladder and a pair of platform shoes. Good times.

Now, I think I might have a bit of a complex... but I'm willing to accept that. I over-compensate by lifting weights (which honestly confuses me because that's what a short MAN would do but whatever) and by being a rather loud individual. Hey, you gotta raise your voice when you want to be heard from all the way down here. All in all, being short isn't as bad as you normals think. I mean, I never have to worry about being taller than my boyfriend, I wont develop bad knees or back due to my current altitude, and I almost never hit my head on anything. So yeah, laugh it up you over-sized-head-bumping-have-to-bend-to-kiss-your-significant-other-freaks. You're just jealous.