Old-timey

Pinkcleome pointed me towards this site.

OHMIGOSH.

It actually reminds me a lot of when I worked at the living history museum and they taught me how to cook in a brick oven, quilt in various styles, run a wood-burning stove, weave, make soap, braid rugs, and more. That was so much fun.

I ordered a catalog and perused the site a little bit more, and was disappointed to learn that they're located in North Carolina, which is kind of a drive from Milwaukee. But then again, wouldn't that make a great summer trip? When I mentioned it to Mike he seemed kind of interested in the blacksmithing, so maybe he'd enjoy it too. Then again, if he was disinterested maybe I could go for awhile this summer if I don't get a job to occupy myself.

They send out catalogs every two weeks, so it might be awhile before I recieve mine. I can't wait.

Deep Philosophy

Today I had some pretty in-depth dicussions with one of my lower-functioning students.

"Ohhhh, Miz Blind," he said, drawling my name out as we walked down the hall to my office.

"Ohhhh, Huberto," I replied, doing the same. I glanced at him and noticed that he was banging into the lockers as we went.

"Don't bang into the lockers, you'll give yourself a bruise," I said, tugging on his cuff to steer him away from the wall.

"I'm being a train," he said.

I looked at the kid, a good six inches taller than me, quite broad and also quite determined to pretend he was a train. It was a weird sight. "What do trains travel on?" I asked.

"Tracks," he responded promptly.

"And tracks go on the ground," I responded, "not on the wall."

"And trains never fly," he said solemnly.

"That's extremely true," I said, pointing at him for emphasis. "You're absolutely right that they don't fly."

Once we were in my office we talked about the warm weather we'd been having and the things you could do outside. He mentioned that he enjoyed playing baseball, but had to be very careful to hit the ball away from the sun, lest he hit the sun and break it. Now, this seemed too imaginative for him to have thought of it himself, so I figured that someone had told him that story. However, even if someone had told him that he couldn't go through life thinking that the sun was the fragile little thing always in danger of being broken, so I tried to explain to him that the sun was bigger than a baseball. Luckily I had some scale pictures of the planets hanging on my office wall, and once we determined that a baseball was smaller than the Earth, and the Earth was smaller than the Sun, I figured the next logical conclusion would be...

"So which is smaller, the sun or a baseball?"

"The...ah...um...sun?"

"Let's go through it again."

We went back and forth for awhile, but eventually the discussion culminated in him flicking a tiny piece of paper (a baseball) at me (the sun) to prove that something so large couldn't be broken by something so small. I think he understood. Or, at least, he was willing to accept what I was saying so we could move on and play Uno.

Sometimes I wonder about my job.

Mix CD

Mike and I have very different views on music. Mike likes music with interesting beats and insturmental arrangements. I, on the other hand, concentrate more on the lyrics and what they mean.

Normally this doesn't matter too much, but sometimes the difference is obvious. When Mike made me a mix CD for Christmas he said that some of the songs were put on because of what they meant, and some were put on because they were just catchy. I can understand why he did that, but it was really diconcerting to be listening to sweet songs like, "Praise You" by Fatboy Slim and "Sweetest Thing" by U2, and then be confronted by lyrics like the ones in The Decemberists' song "July, July."

They say your uncle was a crooked French Canadian
And he was gut-shot running gin.
And all his guts were all suspended on his fingers
And how he held them, how he held them, held them in.

Niiiiice. Mike said he included it because it was one of the songs that was played at our wedding, which also disconcerts me.

On the other hand, I was very impressed with the song "Four-Eyed Girl" by Rhett Miller, in which a musician professes his love for a glasses-wearing teacher.

I really like the CD, though, because it's the first mix CD that a boy has ever made for me. Even if the lyrics are a little weird.

I'm in pictures!

Many Bothans died to bring us this Danulai.

Which movie was this quote from?

Get your own quotes:

Bleh!

Yesterday was my first day back at school after our two-week-long winter break. Over break I was able to relax, and I realized how stressed out I was while I was working. I had come to accept the stress as just a part of my life...it wasn't until the stress was removed that I found out just how distraught I was.

On Sunday night as I laid out my clothes and packed my lunch, I felt the tension return. I felt my shoulders knotting up, and I felt the low-level thrum of anxiety as I prepared for the next day.

Ugh.

All day yesterday I was exhausted. After 4 AM I woke up every twenty minutes or so, sure that I had slept through my alarm. I yawned my way through my commute and clung deperately to a caffeine-filled Pepsi as I started my morning.

By the time I drove back to Milwaukee, did my tutoring, and finally got to my apartment I was done for. I packed another lunch, laid out Tuesday's clothes, and made some cookie dough to be refrigerated as if I were a robot.

Today was better. I'm gradually getting back into the swing of things. But man, when I got looking for jobs this spring I have got to remember that a late-starting school really is a priority.

Dinner and Baby Names

Last night I went out to dinner with Mike and his friends Jerry, Justin, Matt, Jim, Evan, and Kathy and Joey along with their baby Gabby. Kathy very considerately offered to not let me hold her baby because she remembered my baby-holding phobia. Thanks Kathy!

Gabby was very cute and personable and I enjoyed observing her from afar. Eventually someone brought up Mike and I having a kid, and we got some odd looks when we mentioned that we had a boy's name picked out already.

The thing is, we really don't have a "baby name" picked out per se. It's more that Mike heard a boys' name that is so awesome, so wonderful, so completely exquisite, that somebody needs to ensure that this name makes it into the next generation. If necessary, that "somebody" will be us.

That name...is Philo. It's pronounced FIE-low. I like it because it's a saint's name, and because it's Greek for the word "love," which is the one thing that not only would I want to give to a child, but I would like that child to give to others.

Mike likes it because it's the name of the inventor of television broadcast...Philo Farnsworth. Well, at least we agree that it's a neat name.

Of course, people shouldn't take any baby-talk from us too seriously, since Mike also mentioned that his biological clock is rapidly ticking, but more for a kitten than a kid. Also, he suggested today that if we ever have a girl baby we name it Awesomeina or Skooty B. Kool. And yes, I had him spell that last one out.

Anyway, it was a fun evening, even if Mike and I had to head home early since I wasn't feeling great. I should have his friends over for dinner sometime, not only because they're nice people, but also because they're more likely to enjoy my cooking than Mike is.