romping

So.

As it turns out, working two jobs is just as time-consuming (not to mention exhausting) as I thought it would be, meaning that Summer 2011 is officially The Summer of Working All The Fucking Time And Therefore Never Ever Having Any Fun Ever Under Any Circumstances Ever. Most of the time I’m too tired to even blog. WHEN DID I BECOME SUCH A FUDDY DUDDY?

I do not like this.

Anyway.

A couple weeks ago I actually had a day off (A DAY OFF! WHAT!) and spent the morning shopping with Mitch. He needed khakis that were actually khakis as opposed to cargo pants and not covered in mustard stains. Look at him! Growing up! And while at the mall, I made the mistake of venturing into Urban Outfitters where I not only spent seven dollars on novelty band-aids, but also…

Also?

I bought a romper.

I KNOW.

NBD.

In my defense, I initially grabbed a few to try on as a joke slash to remind Mitch how irresistibly sexy I look in ill-fitting onesies that show too much cellulite. But then, um, one wasn’t so bad? In fact it was kind of adorable. And, okay, fine, I bought it and I’ve worn it twice and I love it. Is that so wrong?!

Ahhhhhh I love the back! And please excuse my out-of-control lion's mane.

I immediately texted my friend Alex so she could begin judging me all the way from Houston. She has a special kind of hatred for clothing that makes adult women look like babies, a special kind of hatred I used to join her in until I became a heretic.

A heretic?

I’m operating on very little sleep these days and, as a result, not on top of my game. But whatever, y’all, I like to romp and I’m only 40% embarrassed to admit that. It’s so cute! I can belt it! Or I can NOT belt it! And I can wear necklaces with it! And SHOES! CUTE ONES! CUTE! Seriously, this is as exciting as my life gets since, besides wearing the romper on Friday for a family reunion, I can’t remember the last time I wore clothing other than Nike shorts, my camp counselor t-shirt, disgustingly loose black Bermuda work shorts, my Sonic shirt, and tennis shoes. Meaning: the romper is a big deal.

It’s cool if you all want to stop following my blog now.

In somewhat related news, here’s a quick rundown on what I’ve been up to lately if anyone even remotely cares and/or has missed me:

• Working two jobs sucks, I’m tired all the time and my feet never stop hurting
• Not having weekends off is probably one of my least favorite things ever, but that’s okay because I’ve been taking full advantage of my Tuesday nights off for kickball, ie. I threw up in a trashcan like a college girl a couple weeks ago
• Pete tore into the garbage, then ate an entire loaf of bread and a bag of cat food before exploding diarrhea all over the dining room carpet while I was at work – you can imagine the pleasant sight and smell upon my arrival
• At least I’m sort of a rockstar at (both?) my job(s?). End bragfest 2k11.
• I miss blogging. And reading y’all’s blogs. And I feel totally disconnected from, um, everyone. Not cool.
• I wear rompers now.
• I ate some vegetables last week.
• A lot has changed, but only in very boring ways.

To those of you still sticking around despite the dearth in posting, thanks. :) And on that note, I’m off to finish typing up lesson plans for camp this week because, hey, it’s 10:50 on a Sunday night and, no thanks, I don’t feel like resting.

It ain’t easy being a boss.

Or romping.


PS: Worst thing about rompers? I know everyone’s said it, but seriously, having to get completely undressed to pee. Pretty much one of the most awkward feelings ever, especially at work. Or basically anywhere.

a collection of facts & feelings: june

Today I’m linking up with my sweet and wonderful friend Joelle over at Where We Love is Home for Happy Hour (because it’s 5 o’clock somewhere, thank God). And all I’m going to say on that note is:

a. you should really take a gander at her blog because it’s adorable, and so is Joelle
b. this weekend (when not working) I feel like I’ll be drinking one thousand cocktails and beers and bottles of wine – whatever, just bring on the booze; it’s been a hell of a week





Anyway.

Moving on.

It’s been an interesting week, my first as a summer camp counselor at the Grapevine Rec and so far I’d say the best (read: most awkward) part is working with a guy I graduated high school with because neither of us have acknowledged it. Neat-o!

I’ve been invited to zero weddings this summer. Am I really that unpopular? Well, all right.

A couple weeks ago Mitch’s mom threw him a grad party which basically meant that I ignored most people and played Presidents & Assholes on the couch the entire time (but not alone, it’s fine) while drinking twelve-ish beers. That’s a good way to feel bloated for two days, in case y’all were wondering.

Mitch's stupid eyes ruin everything.

And on that note, I know I said Apples to Apples is the greatest game of all time (and it is), but it should also be said that Presidents & Assholes is the greatest DRINKING game of all time (and it is). Seriously, have you ever played? Do it. It reminds me of summertime, which is wonderful, but it specifically reminds me of last summer, ie. The Summer We Played Presidents & Assholes Absolutely Everywhere To The Point That We Started Carrying Decks of Cards on Us at All Times I’m Not Kidding. We played with friends. We played at family gatherings. We played at The Chicken. We played at weddings. I can only hope that Summer 2011 is as President-y & Asshole-y.

In a nutshell.

Once again, moving on.

Midnight is Paris (starring Owen Wilson, Rachel McAdams, and a shit-ton of other people) is fantastic and totally worth seeing in theaters. I highly recommend it.

I’ve been seeing this app for awhile and, y’all, I think it’s getting pretty serious. I’d like to take this moment to profess publically: I love you, Instagram. Will you marry me and be my favorite app forever? (update: it said yes!)

Pete has gone an entire month without eating my clothes (knock on wood). I feel like this would be cause for celebration, except he’s actually just moved on to things like stairs and electrical wires.

Sidenote: besides chewing shit up, his new favorite hobby is chasing butterflies. CHASING BUTTERFLIES. I’ll try to take a video.

Not liking iced tea makes me feel absolutely positively un-southern, not to mention un-Texan. This is only amplified in the summer months. Ugh. What is wrong with me?

Not recommended: bursting into tears when your dental hygienist innocently & cheerfully asks how you're doing. She'll get really uncomfortable. And so will you. (update: seriously, I'm fine, it was just a bad day and, surprise!, I'm not great at controlling my emotions)

Also not recommended: eating two-day old chocolate chip cookies found on the bathroom counter when you wake up at 1am and can't go back to sleep. It won't cure your insomnia, but it will make you feel like a fatass.

And I just noticed how many browser tabs I have open right now. It drives Mitch crazy when I have up more than four (why? I don't know), but whatever because I'm sitting at thirteen right now.

YOU'RE MIND JUST GOT BLOWN, MITCH BAKER.


Happy freakin' weekend, y'all! I hope everyone has some really exciting plans to blow off steam from the week. Me? I'll be working, but that doesn't mean I won't have a little time off to go see a band play in Dallas on Saturday night with my main squeeze. Other than that, it's back to the grind until Tuesday (my first day off in eleven days! whoooooop!).

chasing pavements

About a week ago, I got a second job.

It’s the thing I’ve been avoiding ever since I moved back home nineteen months ago (oh god, NINETEEN MONTHS AGO I MOVED BACK HOME someone please kill me slash sorry, Mom and Dad). I’ve tried to make it photographing and subbing but since both of those are seasonal, I knew that when summer hit things were going to be a bit, ahem, tight. After my Thursday morning orientation as a summer counselor, I realized that only working camp wasn’t going to be enough.

So I tucked my tail between my legs.

And drove to Sonic.

And asked for my old job back.

I tried to promise myself when I graduated that no matter what happened, I wouldn’t go back. It’s not that it’s a bad job – it’s just, it’s the job I had in high school. I’m supposed to be better than that now, right? I have a degree from an incredible university. Shouldn’t that be enough to keep me out of fast-food?

Turns out it’s not.

And I’m trying to be okay with that.

I woke up Friday morning with Adele’s Chasing Pavements randomly playing over and over and over in my head. The lyrics made (and still make) me wonder, should I give up or should I just keep chasing pavements, even if leads nowhere? Trying to be a teacher for almost two years now, trying to just get by in the meantime by subbing and working summer jobs, trying to wait it out so I don’t have to give up on my dream…is it stupid? Am I being stupid?


via

Some days (okay, most days) I feel the pressure to “grow up” and get a “proper” job. I feel like a bum, a loser substitute who’s just not good enough to be a “real” teacher. I feel like I should take a job with a salary, with benefits, with 9 to 5 hours so I can be like my friends, so I can get my own place, so I can be, well, “normal.”

But I’m just not a desk job kind of girl.

The thought of working in an office makes me (metaphorically) break out into hives. And okay, sure, maybe I’m a little gun-shy about offices and cubicles and fluorescent lighting because my first “grown up job” was such a fucking nightmare, but I don’t think that’s just it. I think that in general, it’s just not for me. I need to be mentally engaged, physically active, up & walking around, talking to people, doing something new every day.

Does that make me flighty?

Or free-spirited?

Lazy? Or dynamic?

All I know is I can’t lead a life crunching numbers or filing faxes or taking memos. And I’d rather be somewhat unhappy with where I live and happy with my work than happy with where I live and miserable forty hours a week.

So because I gave up an interview for a “proper" job and instead found myself face-to-face with a summer position that’s turned out to be part-time, I had to swallow my pride and go back to the basics. My roots, you might say. And you know what? It’s not so bad. I felt weird walking back into the store after a five year hiatus and it’s sort of strange not knowing most of the girls who work there now, but it also kind of feels like home. It feels like a job I can do (and do well) because it is. Yea, that’s right: I kind of kick ass at Sonic-ing.

JUST LOOK AT HOME CUTE I AM IN MY POLO.


See? I’m trying to focus on the whole gotta-make-that-dolla aspect of the situation as opposed to obsessing over the fact that I’m 24 and working at the same job I did at 16. Yikes.

And while I’ve mentioned before how much I sucked (read: was ugly and judgmental) in those days, I do feel a little like sixteen-year-old me again, meaning I should probably call up my high school boyfriend so we can awkwardly make out in his bunk bed or the back of his ’98 Ford Explorer. I’m sure his wife won’t mind.

Good times.

But back to my original question: am I kidding myself with pursuing a career in education? To be honest, my gut tells me I probably am. My gut tells me it’s going to be years before education is back to a place where alternatively certified teachers (like me) have a better shot at being hired. But (and get ready for some grade A cheese, y’all) my heart just won’t let me let go. I feel like a teacher even though I’m not employed as one, and I know without a shadow of a doubt that I have something of value to bring to kids.

So.

Do I struggle in the meantime, sacrifice my wants, and ultimately continue to put my life on hold, waiting for the right school, the right principal, the right students to take a chance on me, whenever that may be?

Or am I just chasing pavements?

middle schoolers: they'll straight up hit on you

Today I hung out here:

pictured: your typical social studies classroom

It goes without saying that 8th graders are a handful. I've subbed for this age plenty of times (reluctantly, I admit) and they always offer such unique challenges, ie. if I turn around for even a minute, lo and behold I'll turn back around to find some class clown standing in the corner, taking his shirt off. Whaaat?

Uhhhhh...it was an accident. You're not going to tell my teacher, are you?

What do YOU think, big shot?

Ugh. Kids.

So it's safe to say I understand that kids this age are a bit crazy, always pushing the boundaries to see how much they can get away with or what it will take to shock me. And, all right, occasionally I've encountered a strange comment, but man oh man, nothing like 6th period today.

Sixth period came in loud, and I mean LOUD. I've raised my voice to classes before, busting out the stern, disappointed teacher voice nearly daily in order to regain control, but today I had to yell. Literally. SIT. DOWN. CLOSE YOUR MOUTHS. My words was ringing in my own ears from the volume, but it worked. They sat. They closed their mouths. And for the ten minutes that lapsed as I took roll and rattled off some basic annoucements, they were quiet, but as soon as I turned to walk from the podium, it began.

The roar.

The clamor.

Thirty middle schoolers talking talking talking all at once. It was enough to drive me out of my mind, but that wasn't my problem with today. My problem was the boys. For whatever reason, I have become attractive to tween boys? Cue confusion and vomiting. For forty-five minutes, it was a string of silly lines that went from funny to downright creepy after a kid asked me, Hey, Miss Townsend, you ever tried a fourteen year old before?

...

I was litearlly stunned. Usually when kids says silly, flirty things to me, I laugh them off and remind that I'm not only too old for them, but way out of their league. This was different. After that moment, I was just... Uncomfortable. I found myself in a moment where I felt lost, unsure of what to do next, something that has rarely happened to me in the classroom, thank God.

In order to play it off and not give him the reaction that he wanted (ie. any), I ignored the comment and went about my business. It's funny how such a small moment can change your whole mood. I felt on edge, and for the rest of the period, I didn't feel like myself. I felt like I should have done something more: had him sit out in the hall, written him up, sent him down to the principal's office. Something. But I didn't know what, so I let it go.

As class was wrapping up, another student, a sweet boy about thirteen, came up to me and asked, Miss Townsend, do you know karate? 'Cause your body is KICKIN'! I laughed becasue it was funny. It just was. And it reminded me that these are just kids. They have absolutely no idea what they're saying. Even though a small line was crossed today, I know there will be other moments like this in the future as students and I map out our boundaries. As a sub, I don't have the time to establish myself as anything more than a temporary figurehead, and while most of the time that's enough, I realize now that there will be days I'm tested, days kids will come at me from out of nowhere and I'll have to handle it, have to think on my feet and figure out the best course of action.

But that's kind of the great thing about substitue teaching: I'm never really sure what will happen next. Every day is a brand new adventure and while sometimes it's hard, it's always worthwhile. I've learned so much in the past four months, so much more than I ever though I could. And I'm grateful for that.

I'd still like a Big Girl Teaching job, though.

Anyone handing those out?

I'll be glad to tell you your body is kickin' in exchange.

prom-allama-ding-dong

“You know, that’s the first dance I’ve been to in a long time and there were no slow songs. When are you supposed to get close to your woman? And I mean in a loving way, not just in a I-wanna-put-my-dick-on-you way.”
-Mitch Baker

Even if I tried, I’m not sure I could have come up with a better quote to sum up Prom 2011.

And yes, you read correctly.

Prom.

Ta-da!

Mitch and I went to prom, and not just because we’re a. creepers or b. super-creepers, but because c. I was there professionally as the photographer. Which means that actually Mitch was there for reasons a. and b. Oops.


Mitch, my mom and I getting ready for THE SINGLE GREATEST NIGHT OF OUR LIVES.

We were both really excited about it. Probably too excited. But, y’all, prom as an adult (and I use the term adult loosely, for obvious reasons) isn’t that awesome. Although, to be honest, even when I was in high school I thought prom was a total drag, but that’s probably because, as you may recall, I was a loser with bad hair, and Prom 2005: Here’s to the Night was no exception.

Anyway.

Moving on.

On the ride up to McKinney, Mitch and I took turns guessing which songs the DJ would play. We figured this would be a piece of cake because we’re young, hip and fun. We listen to not only 106.1 and 93.3, but also 97.9 AND 104.5. We know what’s going on with the music of today. Or so we thought. Can I just tell y’all that we made a list of 34 songs (and the official rules of this challenge stated that for every song you picked that was played, the other person had to buy you a drink, obvi), and out of those 34 young, hip, fun songs, only six were played. SIX. I don’t even need to tell you that out of those six, only one was mine, although I guess I just did. So not only was the playlist shit, but now I owe Mitch five beers and I have, like, four dollars, so I guess we’re keepin’ it classy with Keystone.

Unbelievable.

I blame the 6/35 on the DJ, a man who can truly be described as the real OG (here meaning the Original Guido). His excessively-bronzed skin overly accentuated his electric-white teeth, both of which I would have been willingly to overlook all that if the man would have at least played Britney Spears’ Till the World Ends as opposed to, oh, I don’t know, a techno remix of Hey, Soul Sister by Train.

Ummmmmm...

What are you doing, sir?

Look at your life. Look at your choices.

By the time the night was over and we were finally able to make the hour drive home, we were so burned out on BOOOooomOOOOooom BOOM BOOMBOOM BOOM CHIKITAH CHIKITAHCHIKITAH THUNDA THUNDA THUNDA that we just couldn’t handle anything on the radio.

So we turned on 98.7 for some golden oldies, ie. music that didn’t make me feel like I was inside a woofer. Or a strobe light.

And as we drove home, listening to the ever smooth King of Motown, we bitched about kids these days and their damn music, how it’s so loud and just a lot of noise, if you ask me, and so on and so on and so on.

Then it hit me.

We’re old.

Not old-old. Just older, I guess. What I mean is we’re not eighteen anymore, and while it’s the bitter in bittersweet to recognize the loss of (some of) my youth, I gotta tell ya, the sweet part is not only the knowledge and maturity that comes with age, but the confidence that, hell, I’m better than all those young punks.

Suckers.




*A kachillion thanks to Mitchell S. Baker for being a stellar prom date. As always, I was so proud to have you by my side.

You're pretty.

little victories

In hard times – whether emotional, physical, economical or what-have-you – I’ve found that it’s important to celebrate the little victories. Sure, I feel a bit lost. And okay, sure, sometimes I feel sad. Nonetheless, I have joys and successes out the yin-yang that, minor as they may be, deserve appreciation and recognition.

So, to cheer myself up last night, I sat down with a dry-erase board, several multi-colored markers and wrote out a quick list of things I’m grateful for, including but not limited to:

Food

Shelter

My health and abilities

Family

Friends, both near and far

Clark
The love of my life in dog-form? Check.

Pete
I felt obligated to include him on this list, but I think we all know how I actually feel about him.

My car
Well, vehicle I suppose is a more appropriate word since it's an SUV, not a car... Anyway, piece of shit that it is, it gets me from Point A to Point B, right?

Music
Seriously…where would I be without it? I physically need the likes of Relient K, Jason Mraz, John Mayer, Incubus, 3OH!3, Mat Kearney, Chris Brown, Minus the Bear, etc.? They speak to me. They move me. ‘Nough said.

Mitch
Yep. Still. Because of things like this.

Zero credit card debt
This one gets to be in bold because clicking the "pay remaining balance" button is one of the best feelings in the world. HALLELUJAH. Also, fuck you, Discover.

Reese’s peanut butter cups
I’ve moved on from the Chips Ahoy.

God
Duh.

The fact that Eye of the Tiger just came on my iPod.
Score. And FYI it's totes on my Motivational Playlist. I like to jam to the MP while getting psyched for things I'd usually be nervous about (ie. tests, interviews, basic daily interactions).

Books
My taste in literature ranges from the classics to the trashiest of teen novels. Oh, and my favorite book of all time? The Giver by Lois Lowry. I read it when I was eleven and I’ve read it at least once every since then. If you haven’t already, read it.

Having (multiple) jobs
Yes, jobs. Plural. I’m so grateful that I’m able to substitute teach and do school photography. Even though neither of these allow me to work full time or support myself (like, enough to where I can move out? Yea...womp womp...), I really enjoy what I get up for every morning and, hey, it pays the few bills I have. And as of a couple days ago, I’m officially hired as a camp counselor for the summer here in Grapevine. :)

Getting that phone call on Tuesday is really what started the wheels in my head a-turnin’. I’d been stressed about the approaching summer months – what was I going to do about money? Both subbing and photography are seasonal so when school lets out, I was going to be shit outta luck, economically-speaking, June through August. Panic. But no more! No more panicking! I feel really blessed to have gotten hired so early that I now don’t have to worry about if I’ll be able to take care of myself during the summer.

Fist pumps for the little victories, y’all. Sometimes they’re all we (ahem, I) have, but sometimes they’re all we need to get by. Right? Besides, I know I won’t have to "just get by" forever.

To quote Beck: I’m a driver. I’m a winner. Things are gonna change, I can feel it.

Holla.

definitely better than third grade, y'know, with all the politics and the mind games

Things I’ve Learned While Substitute Teaching: second graders are YOUNG.

Like, really really young, y’all. Did you know most of them are only seven? SEVEN YEARS OLD. Holy crap. They’re still babies. I don’t know why, but this absolutely blows my mind.

I think it’s pretty obvious that I recently subbed for a second grade class. Today, actually. And you know what? Seven-year olds are also LOUD. And crazy. And really into invading your personal space. All day long they’d come up to me and stroke my arms while talking to me, lean against me, sit on the ground and try to rest their heads in my lap, hold my hand in the hallways, walk with their arms around my waist, etc. I couldn’t stop thinking about how awkward it would be if adults were like that, especially if adults were like that with people they’d only know for about an hour.

Maybe I’ll try it out.

It was adorable, though. Today was honestly all about playing mommy as opposed to teacher. There were tantrums, tears, tattling, and one girl even punched another in the stomach. Dra-ma. And it was my job to step in talk them out of their tantrums, tell them to mind their own business, and wipe away any and all tears. As far as the girl who punched another, well, she and I had a lengthy talk which ended with her sobbing and rocking back & forth in my lap. Like I said, I was on mommy-duty. Challenging, exhausting…but nice.

After school, I came home with nineteen pictures and signs that the kids made for me. Most of them talk about how much I rock (it’s true, I do), but I particularly liked the one depicting a helicopter launching missiles. He even took the time to color the helicopter to look like it was camouflaged. Stellar work, kid.

Oh, wait, I also liked the one where a girl wrote, “i love miss tea.”

Tea. T. Ha.

The one on top really captures my essence. But no, I wasn't wearing pigtails today.

Throughout this whole job application process (wherein I apply to about a thousand school districts and pray to God someone, somewhere decides to take a chance on me), I’ve wondered what grade is right for me. High school is obviously out since most of those kids are total bastards. Plus, walking into a high school makes me feel as weird and anxious as it did when I was sixteen and, no thanks, I don’t want to relive that hell everyday.

Sidenote: I was so beyond uptight and awkward in high school, y’all. Like…terribly. It’s almost painful for me to look back at the person I was at seventeen, even though my mother says I need to cut myself some slack. Oh, I also didn’t grow out of my ugly, I-don’t-know-how-to-put-on-make-up-or-do-my-hair-without-looking-like-either-a-tranny-or-a-hot-mess phase until I was twenty-one…and by twenty-one I, of course, mean twenty-four which in turn means I’m actually still growing out of it. Neat-o.

End sidenote.

Anyway, the point is I wasn’t sure what age group would be my best fit as a teacher. It’s hard to know something like that with no classroom experience. I still really feel like my heart lies in the 5th and 6th grades (ie. old enough to have personalities and get most of my jokes, but young enough to still be sweet and think I’m cool), but after today, I don’t think I’d mind rocking it in the lower elementary. Maybe.

Who knows.

PS: Today I also learned that I have no idea what second graders are supposed to know by this age. Like, are they supposed to understand subtraction? Because it took a kid roughly ninety seconds to answer me when I asked him what ten minus one was. Not kidding. Also, spelling? Do they know how to do it? I saw a girl write the sentence, “i cant wate to go to mitold skoole.” PAINFUL. Or normal?

i'm alive, i swear: post-birthday edition

Let me just start off by saying that between substitute teaching, living in Forney during the week and my birthday festivities, I have spent only two nights in my own bed over the course of the past three weeks. Say what??

Things have been crazy, y'all, but crazy-good.

I had so enjoyed getting into the practice of writing nearly every day and, let's face it, as a writer, that's beyond important, but with everything that's been going on, I've found literally no time to even check anyone else's blogs let alone post on my own. I don't care if it's weird, but that's been tough. Anyway...

This will just be a mishmash post since a lot has happened during my brief hiatus. Let's get on with it:


Substitute Teaching...
...is a total dream. I love it. The more I sub the more I'm convinced I'm supposed to be a teacher...but the less I'm convinced I'm supposed to work for a district. What I mean is I've started worrying over the past three weeks that maybe I'm too out there to be a regular ol' teacher. I definitely don't like being put into a box, wading through red tape, etc. I just want to be able to do what I want when I want and blahblahblah I'm apparently a rebellious sixteen-year old all over again and YOU'RE NOT MY REAL MOM SO JUST LEAVE ME ALONE OKAY GOSH. Being a substitute teacher is so freeing because I don't have to be regular; I can let the kids sit on the floor while they work. I can hug them when the day is over (okay, I'm technically not allowed to do that, but when a sweet kid runs at me full-force and throws their arms around me, I'm not going to push them away, duh). I can say "suck it" in casual conversation. I can have a tattoo. Okay, so, again, technically maybe I'm not allowed to do any of those things either, but I do and the kids love me. And the other teachers love me. And I'm doing a great job. No, Mom, that's not me being full of myself; that's recognizing when I'm good at something, which is rare, so let me have my moment. Jeeeeeez.

I could honestly go on and on and on about all this (seriously, ask any of my annoyed friends), but I'll save it for another day. Besides, I can already feel myself getting all worked up and it's too early in the morning for a stress rash.


Obedience School...
...is over! And, yes, Pete graduated! So what if it was a pity, you-paid-the-money-so-I-guess-we'll-pass-him kind of graduation, it still counts. And he even wore one of those totally lame and adorable mortar boards. Duh, I took a bazillion pictures. Way to go, Pete! You can roll over, but you still swipe food off the kitchen counters and rip my mom's plants out of the ground.

We just really wanted to make this whole get-a-picture-while-Pete's-wearing-a-graduation-cap thing work.

Awkward.

What an adorable family pic, complete with what appears to be Clark Kent having a goddamn seizure. Way to ruin it, CLARK.

MATTHEW BRODERICK TRAINER! Thanks, Scott, for indulging our creepiness and taking a picture with us.

Oh yea, and a picture of the infamous Mia. Bitch.


My Birthday...
...was last Wednesday, the 16th, and I am officially (not) old. What up, 24! Show me what you've got! No, but seriously, so far being twenty-four is all right. The weekend before, a bunch of my friends got together for an impromptu house party which made us all feel like we were in college again, followed by (even more?) drinks and karaoke. I'd never realized I actually knew all the words to If You Wanna Be My Lover until we sang it because, let's face it, the Spicegirls are total crowd-pleasers. Then later I fell off a curb by a valet stand and into a muddy ditch. Mature. This past weekend, however, I trekked down to visit my best friends in Austin for a little post-birthday celebration. That's what happens when your actual birth day falls on a shitty Wednesday -- you get two birthday weekends. Anyway, it was pretty chill, but we did venture out to West 6th Street on Saturday night where I only spent eight dollars because some thirty-two year old Persian dudes came out of nowhere and bought us shots. One of them's birthday was the day after mine and he only hit on me a little, so I felt like it was okay to hang with them. No worries, Mitch has been informed and dare I say he's proud of me? Later while stopped at a red light we screamed out the car windows at an awkward couple until they made out. I repeat: mature.

And since I am still camera-less (read: DEPRESSED), I have no pictures from this past weekend. Instead please enjoy this throwback picture of my BFFs and I from our graduation night, December 2009:

We only deceptively have our shit together.

So, in a nutshell, that's what's been going down in Texas, y'all.

Howdy. I'm Andrea. I'm a twenty-four year old substitute teacher in Dallas, girlfriend to a man who should never under any circumstances be left alone with hair clippers as he will forget to leave himself sideburns, friend to bangin' yet equally immature twenty-somethings, and mother to two of the world's most thieving, conniving dogs.

And this is my universe.

a collection of facts & feelings

If I lived alone, I'd probably spend less time wearing pants.

Being a middle school photographer makes me feel like a rockstar when the kids are excited to see me and remember my name.

I wish I could eat Taco Bueno party burritos like, all day, every day.

This absolutely cracks me up.

Sometimes I resent my dogs. And by my dogs, I mostly mean Pete. And that makes me feel like a bad person.

I like that I like beer.

To paraphrase Mandy Moore in License to Wed, I'd marry Mitch Baker tomorrow in a potato sack dress in the middle of a rainstorm if it meant spending the rest of my life with him.

And on that note, I have an inexplicable fascination with all things Mandy Moore.

I really believe in this.

If there's a Law & Order SVU marathon on somewhere, I can kiss all thoughts of productivity goodbye.

Yum. To both.

I wish I took myself more seriously and gave myself more credit.

I waste a lot of time here. And here. And here. And I never get tired of reading this.

My friends are so effortlessly cool and hot at the same time that it makes me feel a lot cooler and hotter just being known and loved by them. Not that looks are the most important thing in the world; I just happen to have really bangin' friends.

Briarwood. My bad for ruining this picture.

Which reminds me of the time in ninth grade athletics that our teacher asked us what was the most important thing to look for in friends and I answered ummmm...they have to be good looking? No one laughed and I was sent to the principal's office. I went to private school where no one was funny. IT WAS A JOKE, BITCHES. Whatev. I'm over it.

Anyway, it's Tuesday. I love Tuesdays. Happy Tuesday, y'all.

fingers crossed

As much as I didn't want to leave my warm (and ridiculously) comfortable bed or disturb the eighty-pound dog sleeping to my left, I did.

People, I'm off to follow a lead.

Over the past eight days, several leads have come my way, either about actual job openings or simply substitute teaching. Now, even if these don't pan out, it feels exciting to have prospects again! The most recent tip came last night when a friend called me about a teaching job that's opened up in her school. It's a charter school in Dallas, so not too far away from Grapevine, and it would obviously be more money than I'm making now. Plus, experience! Duh! I applied online right away and emailed the school directly, but because that's clearly not enough, I'm venturing out this morning to drop by the campus myself. Hello! Please give me a job!

I admit I'm not great at marketing myself (it just feels so awkward and annoying), but I know that's my only option at this point. Groan. I can't stand (what I feel to be) hounding people. My mom says (gah, how middle school am I?) the squeaky wheel gets the grease, so I suppose I'll have to houn, er, squeak away.

Wish me luck?

This has been a pretty great week.

Absolutely exhausting, but great. I had no idea working as a photographer's assistant would be as physical as it is. Hauling equipment to and from shoots, setting up, breaking down, running around set... I'm ready to drop the second I get home. But it's good. I'm meeting a lot of new people and making contacts left & right. Several teachers have asked me for my information so they can request me as their primary sub. :) Thank you, God.

With the yearbook sponsor and parent volunteers as Wester MS

I'm loving middle schools and their students more and more every day, and it's definitely where I want to teach. I shot my first elementary school last week, though, and my word, those kids were adorable. Pictures were taken during their P. E. classes, so often the students had fifteen to twenty minutes to kill before it was time to go back to their classrooms. One class had come directly from the library and begged me to read to them. Sitting in that gym, surrounded by second graders, reading aloud Monsters Are Everywhere, I felt as if my heart might burst. The way those kids looked at me...it made me know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I'm supposed to be a teacher.

Downtime at Liberty HS

I even made a new friend! One of the teachers I met last week is a first-year who went through the same alternative certification program as me. He's around my age and even lives about five miles from my house as it turns out. Matt's been really sweet to encourage me about finding a teaching job. He's giving me pointers, showing me how to make lessons plans, and going to request me as a sub for his class soon when he's absent for jury duty. I'm so excited to have a teacher friend in Grapevine! Sometimes it can be so isolating here, but meeting new people who have been where I am makes me feel like I'm not alone and that there's hope.

With fellow assistant Kimber and photographer Greg at Maus MS

God's plan almost never makes sense to me, but I think I'm finally starting to get it. I know he's placed me in this job so that I can be in schools, meet teachers, and work with kids. This just has to work out, don't you think? :)

mishmash: june

I can't stop watching HGTV and the World Cup and this it's because I got fired a little over two weeks ago and, therefore, have nothing else to do.


Whaaat?


I know. I knowwwwwww.


This is surprising, no? Especially since I had just gotten a raise and a promotion, like, ten days prior? To be completely honest, I'm still not entirely certain why I was let go. Our CFO, Brian, came into my office, and said "Hey, ummmmm...sorry, but it's not working out. We're letting you go. Ummmm...we love you as a person, but...yea. Sorry." HA. Honestly, though, I'm assuming they just realized that I wasn't going to be staying with them long-term, and so it was easier to let me go now and hire/train someone who was more permanent. Which is fine. I understand, and I actually agree that that's probably what's best for the company. However, it would have been super if they could have not given me incredible job security and then, BOOM!, out of the blue fire me. Handled. So. Poorly.


I could teach them a thing or two about effective & proper communication.


So, that being said and that being the scenario, I find myself once again at square one. It's frustrating, yes, and pretty overwhelming when I consider all the bills I have rolling in (which are, weird, difficult to pay without any income). But I'm comforting myself with a few realizations:


a. I totally hated working there
b. All my favorite writers/bloggers have also been fired from shit jobs
c. Perhaps this is God giving me a second chance at SUMMER!
d. Things could be way worse


Admittedly, it's taken me these two+ weeks to get to this place, the accepting place where I breathe and sleep and function normally. A lot of things had hit me all at once (ie. a huge speeding ticket, major car repairs needed, getting fired, laptop completely dying, Clark medical issues/vet bills, losing my Aggie ring, etc.). And it's not that any of these things have been solved (I am still laptop-less, dealing with my Louisiana speeding ticket, and up to my ears in vet bills & repair estimates). I guess I've just realized I can't do more than I can do, and I'll just have to be optimistic that help will come in the nick of time.


I've been here in Nac with Mitch since Tuesday because, I mean, why not? I can look for a job on his computer just as easily as on my parent's computer in Grapevine. So Clark and I have been camped out in his apartment, sleeping late and watching a lot of TV while Mitch works tennis camps and teaches lessons. Three of his best friends are coming to visit this weekend and they'll be here tonight, so that should be fun. Then tomorrow night is Caro's sister Elizabeth's wedding in Silsbee! I'm terribly excited to see Caro for the first time in two months (sickkk) and to celebrate with the Sweatt family. Monday means back to Grapevine and back to reality, but meh, that's three days away. :)


In the meantime, when I'm not sleeping, HGTVing, or World Cupping, I'm looking for teaching jobs. The same thing I've been doing since December. Ugh.


I keep reminding myself that most districts don't require their teachers to file resignations until mid- to late-July, so there's still plenty of time for me to hear something. I've literally applied for over four hundred jobs in the past six months. That's not depressing at all, right? Haha. Anyway, keep your fingers crossed for me that I get a call from a school in the next month or two so that I won't continue to be destitute.


For now, I think I'll call the wonderful sheriff's department in St. Landry Parish, Louisiana and excitedly learn how much money I'll get to pay them. Awesome!




PS: Oh, and my mom called yesterday afternoon to say she found my Aggie ring!! Maybe this is where my luck starts! :)

superhuman

You know how I always talk about how terribly overwhelmed and exhausted I am by work? Because my degree was in creative writing and yet I've somehow found myself working as an accountant? For a trucking company? Well, things just got so much better.

I do two jobs now.

All by my lonesome.

It started last Friday when our CFO called me into his office and proceeded to tell me what a great job I was doing. Awesome! He said I'd really proved myself and that everyone was happy with my work, so as a reward, they were going to give me a (very) small raise and would like to also make me the Benefits Coordinator. Again, awesome! When our HR Director left on maternity leave two months ago, Brian (our CFO) had asked me to help out with some benefits work, and I happily agreed. No problem! Piece of cake! I can do this shit in my sleep! And so when he told me I'd be the new Benefits Coordinator permanently and that I was already basically doing 80% of the job anyway, I thought, "Wow, this is great. Yay for me! I rock!"

No.

No no no no no no no no nooooooooooooooo.

I was doing 80% of the job before? EIGHTY? Hmmm...more like 10%, it turns out. I'm so completely stressed and overwhelmed I could scream. My favorite part is that our CFO didn't bother to tell my boss that, "oh hey, Andrea has TWO jobs here now," so my boss is still inreasing my workload in AR.

W.

T.

F.

To sum up: I do the work of two full-time employees but still make next to nothing. Fab.

mishmash: may

I honestly don't enjoy being moody, despite popular belief.

I don't like not liking my work. I don't like acting irritable when I get home because I'm frustrated by living with my parents. I don't like literally living for the weekends alone. That's silly and it's stupid. I try to give myself pep talks in order to remind myself that I do have the ability to adopt a more positive mindset. I really do.

...

take a good look at yourself & know

you've got yourself a ways to go

but difficult is not impossible

you can take back all the lost control

...

The words to the bridge of Relient K's Hope for Every Fallen Man (above) always bring me such peace and comfort. From time to time I need a reminder that yes, I've got a ways to go but no, difficult isn't impossible and I can take back all the lost control.

And besides, there really is so much to be grateful for. The next several weekends are going to be busy and wonderful. College Station for my best friend Kristin's graduation. Briarwood Semi-formal. Yoga classes. Roadtrip to Mandevilla/NOLA with Mitch over Memorial weekend. :) Free Press Summer Fest music festival in Houston. My brother's wedding/open bar reception. DrUncle Sam 4th of July Party Barge on Lake Conroe. Family reunion. Briarwood floats tha rivaaa. There will be wonderful times with wonderful friends and I am most definitely thankful for that.

In other news, today I am especially grateful for weekends spent watching my boyfriend kick ass in tennis tournaments. I was such the proud fan. :)

my job is...

crazy
busy
awful
taxing
stressful
definitely not monetarily rewarding
inescapable, even in my dreams
tiresome
tedious
constant
overwhelming
email after email after email
Excel spreadsheet after Excel spreadsheet after Excel spreadsheet
necessary
frustrating
making me hate Shell more than anything in the world
not what I'll be doing in the long run...I hope...


It's Friday. Less than four hours until I'll be on the road with Clark, headed to Nac. I can't wait to drink summertime beer, score some of Kuykendall's leftover magic-making shish kabobs, double (triple??) date, go to Mitch's tennis tournament, take Clark to the park, watch Dan in Real Life (one of my very favorite movies), drink even more summertime beer, play at Shack or Annex or Bullfrogs, sleep late, and soak up every minute with friends. :)

Oh, and currently playing: John Mayer's Stop This Train. On repeat. For the past two hours.

admittedly

Admittedly this hasn't been one of my best weeks.

That's not to say, however, that in the grand scheme of things it's been one of my worst. Definitely not. It's just been an off week, one of those weeks where you can't stop waking up late and can't seem to do anything right. It all started with my Tuesday breakdown-cryfest over finances, prompted by my realization that not only can I not afford to move out (EVER) but I also can't afford to make half the weekend visits I planned on over the next three months. So long, Elizabeth's wedding. Maybe next year, Houston pub crawl. Sigh. Gas is just too expensive and I was going to be buying up to ELEVEN TANKS in May alone. If I want to save up any money at all, it's just not feasible.

All week I've been cranky short, restless and sad. Worried. Exhausted.

Part of my exhaustion stems from the amount of work I'm actually doing at work now. I'm the accounts receivable coordinator, yes, so I handle collections, payments, data entry, etc. However, lately my boss has been bringing me payments for our biggest account, which I suppose I could take as a compliment on my job performance...or he's just tired of doing it himself. On Wednesday he brought me everythinggg for one of our more difficult accounts and said, "Yea, I haven't had time to deal with this... Can you sort it out and get everything taken care of? Thanks." Neat-o.

I also asked our CFO for more work so I'll have a reason to work overtime (god, the adult world sucks so bad) and bam, now I'm taking care of a bunch of HR business. New hire paperwork, benefits registry, employment verification, drug screenings... The works. I feel like the stack of papers on my desk is consistently growing higher and higher, and I can't seem to make a dent.

Work is tiring, sure, but it's become physically and mentally exhausting. I'm here early every morning, I work through lunch, and I stay late. I need rest.

Of course, me sitting here typing this up when I've got payments right in front of me that absolutely have to get applied this morning isn't helping. I know. But I needed just a minuted to download, to release some of my ever-growing tension and perhaps gain a little perspective. It's just work. It's just payments and benefits and emails and Excel spreadsheets and Friday transfers. It'll be okay.

Plus, it's Friday and I leave for Austin right after work. There's something to certainly be grateful for. :)

well, there's just so much to be grateful for

Work just about killed me today.

I wasn't sure I could make it all eight hours without doing something drastic. It's like invoicing got even more tedious over night. Ugh. I absolutely hate the days I'm unable to focus (like today). Not only do they make me feel like a terrible employee, but I end up falling behind which just makes me hate it even more. It's a vicious circle.

Thank goodness I have Tiffany and Hannah, the only two other women who work in my office. They are 34-years old and best friends; they even graduated from high school together! Precious. Tiffany has two great kids, Carlie and Logan, while Hannah is eagerly awaiting the arrival of her first, Ethan Cole, due any day now. Hannah has been out over a week already on bed rest and, I have to say, I'm missing her more than I thought I would. But Tiffany is great and Hannah being gone has given us more time to get to know one another. I had so much fun during our lunch break yesterday, just chatting. I don't know what it is, but I feel like I can tell her anything. And I like that she gets that this is obviously not the kind of work I want to do, haha.

I guess what I'm saying is that if I have to work in an industry I know nothing about doing a job completely unrelated to my skills and interests, at least I have sweet people around me. :)

In other concluding news, I just accidentally took a three and a half hour nap. Totally going to sleep well tonight now...not. Ha.

a litany

I woke up late this morning. I haven't done laundry in over two weeks so I have no clean work-appropriate clothes. I'm wearing a gray sorority t-shirt, jeans and my TOMs, bringing a whole new meaning to casual Friday. I've already had three Red Bulls this morning, so my tummy hurts and I've had to pee about every six and a half minutes. I forgot my lunch. I have no exciting evening or weekend plans. It's only 12:09 (a-whoop) pm.

But it's Friday! :)