A Day in the Life

Ever wondered what it's like teaching elementary school virtually? 

It's a whole new can of worms.

My day usually starts around 5:45am, with an artificial sunrise alarm clock that makes waking up before actual sunrise marginally less unbearable. Coffee is the immediate priority, obviously. 

Then once my coffee cup and eyes are about half empty and half open, respectively, I get dressed. Since it's winter, usually this means a nice sweater or blouse and cardigan, with fleece-lined leggings, fuzzy socks, and slippers completing the ensemble. One of the very few perks of teaching from home: I only have to look professional from the waist up. (A student asked me in October, "Is this what you look like at real school?" I said yes. What they don't know won't hurt them.)

By 7:00am I'm usually logged on to my work computer. Class doesn't start until 9:00am but I need the time to prep my PowerPoints and assignments. Theoretically, there 95 minutes of daily planning time built into my duty day, but even when I get all 95 of those minutes (read: on the rare occasions that there are no meetings scheduled during that time), 95 minutes is still not enough to: 

• grade assignments, 
• sort through and respond to the approximately 8,000 emails from parents, principals, and colleagues who don't know the difference between "Reply" and "Reply All,"
• create a day's worth of lessons and online assignments essentially from scratch (because the majority of "digital lessons" provided by my school district are in reality Word documents with a few vague suggestions)
  
• do whatever else gets put on my to-do list by someone else. 
  

At about 8:45am, I microwave my half-cup of now-cold coffee that I forgot to finish drinking as soon as I opened my computer, and then I log on to Google Meet. It's not an exaggeration to say that within 0.002 seconds of my starting the online meeting, a happy little "bing!" announces the arrival of at least 2 students. I spend the next 10 to 15 minutes alternating between listening to what everyone had for breakfast, dodging rather personal questions ("Ms. L., how come you're not married?"), and repeating the same beginning-of-class instructions I read off the screen every day: "Finish eating your breakfast, use the bathroom, make sure you have your Math and Reading books and a pencil, make sure your computer is fully charged or plugged in, make sure you are in a quiet place where you can focus."

You would think that they know the drill by now, especially since all of these directions are also on the screen, with pictures, as they have been since day one. But you would be wrong, because every day, several children will turn on their microphones when I am mid-sentence halfway through a lesson to inform me that they're going to the bathroom, or going to get their notebook, or grabbing a charger, or they can't hear me, shouting over the TV blaring in their background to let me know. (These are the moments when I say, "Okay, class. Ms. L. needs to take some deep breaths now before she flips her lid. Take some deep breaths with me now, everybody.")

*IN....aaaannd OUT..........IN..........aaaaaannnnnddd OUT.*

I like to start off the day with a silly check-in of sorts. Sometimes it's things like, "If you were a donut, what kind would you be?" Last Friday it was:

Next up is the Pledge of Allegiance and attendance. (Lately, I've been having the kids say a tongue-twister when I call their names. I tell them it's good fluency practice, but really it's just because hearing twenty-two 8-year-olds trying to say "Unique New York" is freaking hilarious.)

Then we move into Math, during which I have to remind multiple students multiple times that it is not in fact nap time, so you need to please sit up and pick up your pencil. After about 35 minutes of this, I send a link in the meeting chat to a quick quiz so I can see what the kids understand and what I'll need to reteach. Only about 60% of my students will actually click the link and do the assignment, leaving me to guess at what the other 40% have (or haven't) learned and try to plan my next lesson accordingly.

After that, we move into small group time. I meet with a quarter of my class at a time to try to reinforce what we covered in whole-group...assuming the kids log on when they're supposed to. Which, considering I tell them at the end of Math exactly who needs to be back at what time, and send them a link to the timer in the chat, AND send their parents a copy of our schedule every week, you would think they would at least mostly do. But again, you would be incorrect. 

*Breathe IN....aaaannd OUT..........IN..........aaaaaannnnnddd OUT.* 

Rinse and repeat for each subject throughout the day, with an increasing number of students showing up late to class, if at all, as the day goes on. Throw in a few dozen technical difficulties of varying degrees for me to navigate (in case you're wondering, it's not exactly a cakewalk to troubleshoot remotely with an 8-year-old on the other end) and forgotten usernames and passwords (which haven't changed since the kids were in first grade)...small wonder I sometimes need a 10-minute nap at lunch to get through the rest of the day.

At 3:10pm, the very end of the day, I offer 20 minutes of "Optional Help Time" for the students to log back on and work on their assignments with me. Of course, the few students who choose to show up are almost always the students who have already completed their assignments. In that case, we usually do a read-aloud (we just finished Frindle before Winter Break), or we play some Simon Says, or I just let the kids talk to me and to each other about whatever they want. Even though by this point in the day, my brain is totally fried and my eyes hurt and I still have a million and one things on my to-do list, I'm secretly bummed to kick the kids off at 3:30. Those 20 minutes of just hanging out with my students are secretly my favorite part of the day.

Often I take a break after that and go outside or get a workout in, and sometimes I just power through, but either way, I usually work at least another hour and a half after school doing things I didn't have time to do during my actual work day...with still plenty left to do when I log back on at 7:00 tomorrow morning. *sigh*

Man, I miss actually being in school. The kids miss it, too. At least once a day, I get a question about what our real classroom is like and what we would be doing if we were there right now. We miss high-fives and hugs, birthday crowns and science experiments. We miss actual books and paper assignments. We miss the cafeteria, the classroom, recess. Most of all of course we miss just getting to go somewhere every day and be around other people...

But, as I tell the kiddos, we have to keep reminding ourselves that this is temporary. This is the safe thing to do right now. One day, we will go back to "real" school. ("When?" they ask me. 😭) Until then, we just gotta try to make the best of it and keep on keeping on.

 

On the bright side, I didn't have to remind any of my students to put on pants this week. #littlevictories

Anything else you wanna know about the teacher life? Hit me up. 🠋

The Curve

 In case you hadn't noticed, there has been a pretty steep curve during this pandemic. Yes, THAT curve...

...but also the learning curve. In the spirit of end-of-year self-reflection, I want to share what I've learned a lot about myself during these last few months.

Being the self-aware Type-A person that I am, I've always known that I like having structure to my days. The highly regulated schedule of my school workday and my various dance classes, yoga classes, climbing sessions, and soccer games kept me busy in the best possible way, with just enough leeway for most of the other things I wanted or needed to do. Three years into teaching, I finally had a healthy work-life balance.

So when the pandemic first shut everything down way back in March, my suddenly empty days scared the SH*T out of me. If it had just been a break from work, I would've been fine. Usually on a school break, I would hit the gym more frequently, see friends and family, pick up some extra dance lessons, travel...none of that was an option this time. Suddenly I had a whole lot of free time--something I try to avoid at all costs--and nothing to fill it with.

It was as though the loom upon which I'd been weaving the strands of my life together had vanished, and suddenly I was a tangled pile of string on the floor. All I felt able to do was stare at my computer screen, endlessly clicking "Continue Watching" whenever the screen paused and asked if I was still there. (Why don't you just keep your judgment to yourself, Netflix?) The self-loathing that accompanied these days of binge-watching was just an added bonus.

After about a week or so, this tangled pile of string knew she had to learn how to do macrame and give herself some structure. Who knew if or when that loom she had before might come back?

I did a lot of walking and running in those early days...anything that got me moving and out of the house made a huge difference in terms of my sanity. I can recall one day when I walked non-stop for 4 hours. (One of the perks of living in the same town you grew up in: almost no thinking required for navigation.) Often, I would call and check in with family members and friends while I walked. 

Unlike the many sourdough dabblers and banana bread fiends at that time, I couldn't really get into cooking and baking due to a less-than-ideal living situation. (Read: psycho roommate who, among other things, couldn't share the kitchen. Fortunately, I was able to escape at the end of April with a few shreds of my sanity.)

If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all.

It was honestly such a relief when we started teaching online in the spring. At that point, we only had to be online for a couple of hours a day, and it was more about checking in with our students and their families than anything else. Still, that tiny bit of structure made all the difference. Having that one block of time that I needed to work around each day allowed me to build the rest of my day into some semblance of normal. Or at least functional.

(Of course, virtual school is now eating my entire life, but more on that later.)

Having had the experience of everything shutting down, I know now just how crucial it is for me to have structure in my day with some form of external accountability in place. I've always thought of myself as a very self-motivated individual, but it turns out that when I have all the time in the world, I become a couch potato. A rather disappointing discovery, I'll admit, but if (Universe forbid) everything were to shut down all over again, I like to think I'd be better able to handle it, armed with this new self-knowledge.

TLDR; Type A millennial falls apart when COVID shut everything down (shocker) and pulls herself together (ish).

Mid-Year Check-in: 2019 Goals

Hello! Long time no see. The end of the school year has been keeping me busy, but it's (finally) winding down, so here I am!

Ta-Da!

Since we'll shortly be kicking off the sixth month of 2019, it seems like a good time to check in with my 2019 Intentions. (You may remember my issue with calling them New Year's Resolutions...if not, you can refresh your memory here.)

I think I've had more success with my not-resolutions than I have with any resolutions that I've made in previous years. (Remember the great Whole30 failure of 2017, anyone?)

Anyway, the whole point of me writing this here blog post is to 1) celebrate the progress that I've made thus far and 2) take a look at what I still need to work on: 

1. Fill my cup. ✔
• I resolved to be more fearless about putting myself out there and trying new things. Taking dance lessons has been a major accomplishment in that area. I basically signed my graceless self up to make a fool out of myself in front of other people three times a week--which is a healthy little ego-check for me--and I'm having a blast. 😃 
• Lots more climbing and a little more reading and way less bingewatching...definitely all positives. I've also made a conscious effort to have more intentional moments where I am entirely present, like drinking my morning coffee out on the deck and leaving my phone inside. 
• Part of this goal also includes letting shit go. I'm not saying that I have managed to completely stop beating myself up over things I can't change, but I'm definitely not holding on to stuff for nearly as long. I'm also making fewer excuses for myself. If I screw up, I'm trying to own it rather than find a reason that it wasn't my fault. I've found that once I take accountability for a mistake I've made, it's actually easier to fix it, and eventually let it go. Personal growth? I think so!
• I also resolved to let go of people who don't value/respect me and people who bring out the worst in me. I've been able to do that in a lot of ways--which wasn't always easy, but definitely for the best--but I've also realized that there are some instances where cutting someone out of my life isn't an option. For example, at work. But I'm happy to report that I'm finding ways to deal with these people. I'm not getting into specifics, but I am super proud that I've upped my confrontation game and been able to have somewhat productive conversations with problematic (for lack of a better word) people in order to actually solve the problems, rather than just accepting how these people act toward me. 
2. Pour from my cup. Less success here...
• Baby Step #1: Actively trying to think more of others. Unfortunately, I think I'm still fairly oblivious. I am maybe slightly more aware of others' needs/wants/expectations since I set this goal, but it tends to be in an after-the-fact kind of way. Like, we third grade teachers will usually pool our money when we need to buy a gift for someone (which happens a couple of times a month). But when I chip in my money, it never occurs to me that maybe I should volunteer and say, "Hey, I'll buy the gift this time," until after someone else has gone ahead and done it already. Then I have a moment of, "Oh, it probably should've been my turn to buy it." 
• Baby Step #2: Acting on my awareness of others' needs. Baby Step #1 is kind of a prerequisite for this one, so...not so much progress in this department. Yet.
3. Get on top of my finances. 👍 Making progress!
• I've started actually budgeting! *GASP* I've had a few false starts with budgeting in previous years, but I think I've finally found a system that works for me. An app, believe it or not. (If you know me at all, you know I generally prefer low-tech solutions, for Terminator-related reasons.) I use Everydollar to plan out my money each month, and then track my income and spending as it occurs. Am I always able to stay within my self-imposed limits? No, but I have realized that if I overspend, the money has to come from somewhere. If I buy more clothes, the difference might come out of my dining-out budget for the month. Or maybe it means that I can't put as much into my travel savings. This app has really made it easy to make sure that I'm not spending more than I make, and to work toward my savings goals. (So thanks Rachel for sharing your budgeting tips!)
• I've also discovered Mr. Money Mustache, who has changed the way that I look at buying things. Am I living his uber-frugal lifestyle and planning to retire at age 30? No, but I am consciously trying to buy less/be more intentional about what I do buy, and am beginning to look into investing to make my money work for me. I've also decided to put off buying a new/new-to-me car until I really need to, which--knock on wood--hopefully won't be for a few years, and by that time it should be completely paid off. 

I'm definitely happy with the progress that I've made so far, but I ain't done yet. Going forward, I want to keep up the good habits that I've cultivated thus far in 2019, and refocus on goal #2: striving for a less self-centered Jess. (Or is saying that on blog all about me too ironic?) 

How are y'all doing with your New Year's Resolutions? I want to hear about your successes and struggles! Comment below. ☺ 

1, 2, 3...1, 2, 3...

Your favorite blogger has a new hobby.

I'm as surprised as you are.

As you may recall, one of my goals for 2019 is to do more things that fill my cup.  It turns out that ballroom dancing is one of those things.

I've never been a dancer--think stereotypical white guy moves and a few Fortnite dances I bust out when I start to lose my students' attention--but the idea of taking dance lessons has been rolling around in my brain for a while now. I've gone ballroom dancing once or twice before with friends, and I've always had fun. But it just seemed like one of those things that you need someone else to do with you.

But you know what? I'm not waiting on someone else.

My philosophy since my big Europe trip has been "Screw it, I'm doing what I want, even if it means I'm doing it alone," and it's worked out pretty well for me. I mean, if I waited on other people to do things with me, I wouldn't have gone to Italy, I wouldn't have gone skydiving...who knows what else I might miss out on if I'm waiting on someone else?

So I went and signed myself up for dance lessons.

And you know what? It's fun, dammit!

So far, I've learned the basic steps for about 10 different dances, as well as some turns. I've followed a lot of more complicated moves that my dance partners have led me through as well, which I'm rather proud of. [insert nonchalant hair flip here]

Everyone keeps asking me how long I've been dancing, and they don't believe that I never took lessons before last month. Which is a nice little ego boost for me, but it's also helped me figure out more about myself and how I learn. 

I've come to the conclusion that I'm not a formulaic learner; I don't learn very well when someone tries to explain the steps to me and count them out. I need to see them and just follow along until I get the hang of it. 

My brain seems to do better when it observes and figures out the rules and patterns for itself, rather than having the rules explained to me and then trying to fit things in to those patterns. (Which is probably why I struggled so much with math in school; they'd give me the theorems and say, "Now go use them.") 

But actually.

When they start counting out the steps out in the group dance lessons, it tends to throw me off; I just need to see the step and how it fits into the music, then go. Ditto for the more complicated moves: as long as I know what it should look like, I can usually follow it.

I think that's probably how I learned how to write, too: I read a lot of books (good ones and not-so-good ones), subconsciously taking notes on what to do and what not to do as a writer, and then trying my hand at it. 

Come to think of it, that's how I learned how to do the brakes on my car, too. Couldn't learn that from a book...had to watch my dad and then do what he did. (Thanks, dad!) 

All that to say: it only took me 18 years as a student and 2 as a teacher to figure out the best way for me to learn. #betterlatethannever

Anywho, this dancing fool will be looking to take her skills out for a spin soon. 

All I'm missing is Patrick Swayze.

(May or may not have watched this movie before writing this post.)

Catch me on the dance floor, yo.

Things I Left in 2018

If you read my New Year's Not-Resolutions post, you know that one of my big goals for 2019 is to do more things that "fill my cup."

My metaphorical cup is a cup of coffee, obvs.

In plain English, this means doing more things that make me feel fulfilled. Things like skydiving and reading and rock climbing and traveling, for example.

Something just as important as filling my cup is minimizing the "drains on my cup." This is different from "pouring from my cup," AKA giving (which I want to do more of). Things that drain my cup are my stressors, which empty my cup before I have a chance to pour from it.

In order for me to let in all the good stuff that 2019 has in store for me, I need to let go of some ish that has held me back in previous years.

So without further ado, here is a list of things that I'm leaving in 2018:

1. Beating myself up over things I can't change. I'm not the most socially adept individual, and I'm often haunted by things that I say or do that I realize were awkward/uncomfortable/wrong. They replay in my brain, a sort of low-lights reel of my real (and imagined) faux pas. Bigger things also haunt me, like times that I've hurt people (whether I meant to or not) and bad decisions that I've made, knowing even as I made them that I would regret it. Memories of these moments swirl around in my brain even years after the fact, and they'll consume me if I let them. I can't go back in time and change what I said or did. And even if I could, I wouldn't. Those moments helped shape me into who I am today. But I'm done being held hostage by them. When these thoughts begin to invade, I've begun taking a deep inhale and letting the thoughts sit for just a moment, and then as I exhale, I consciously think (or say aloud) one of two things. For the little things, it's "Let that shit go." And for the big ones: "I forgive me." And then I move on.  

2. Making excuses for myself. Self-love is so so important. I have to take care of me before I can take care of anybody else. Sometimes self-love for me is realizing that I'm so completely burned out by my workday that I just need to go home and relax with some Doritos and a book. Other times my self-love looks more like tough love, because yes, I'm tired at the end of my long hard school day, but this is the kind of tired that is best remedied by a good solid sweat sesh, so I'm going to make myself go to the gym anyway. I'm holding myself accountable for doing what I truly need to do, and a huge part of that is not letting myself make excuses to get out of it. I've realized that no one else is going to call me out on my bullshit; it's up to me to do that.  

3. Defeatist mentality. This world is an effed up place with a capital F. (I think we can all agree on that.) But when I let myself dwell on that reality, I get overwhelmed by a crippling feeling of "What's the point in trying? I can't make a difference with all that's wrong in the world." That's bullshit, and I'm calling myself on it. The small amount of difference that I am able to make will compound with all of the small differences that other people are making and create a big difference. I have to consciously try to see the positivity and the hope that exist in this world alongside and in spite of all the shit. 

4. People who don't value/respect me. People who don't respect me and my worth make me question my own value and doubt myself. Ain't nobody got time for that.

If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all.

5. People who bring out the worst in me. (This kind of goes with #4.) I'm on a quest to become a better version of myself, and being around certain people makes it too easy to slip into old habits (or new bad habits). It's not necessarily their fault, but--hard as it may be--I need to say goodbye to those people in order to continue growing. I need to surround myself with people who want to see me become my best self, and who encourage me to do so. 

None of this comes easily, but it's especially hard for me to cut ties with the people that I mentioned in #4 and #5 because most of the time, they are people whom I at one time wanted in my life; they have been important to me. Many of the people who are no longer "good for me" were once good friends, and since I'm not very good at making friends to begin with, I think that I probably held on to some of those people longer than I should have out of fear of being lonely.

But ya know what? It's time. I've got to make space for all the awesome people coming to me in 2019. (Including Jess 2.0!)

To each and every one of the people I'm saying goodbye to: thank you for coming into my life, and for the part you have played in making me the person who I am today. I wish you all the best--I truly mean that. If I see ya around, I'll still have a smile for ya. 😉

And hey, a sincere and heartfelt thank you to those of you in my life who do inspire and encourage me to be a better version of myself. You know who you are. (Or I'll tell ya soon enough. 😘)

I'm a work in progress...sometimes I find the things that I said "good riddance" to at the end of 2018 trying to creep into 2019. So I just keep reminding myself...

Let that shit go. 

#mantra2019

($1.25 in the swear jar, if you're keeping track at home.) 

New Year, New Words

In case you haven't noticed, I'm not the greatest at following through on things.

I never got around to writing about the last month or so of my Europe 2016 trip, nor did I ever post about the last few cities I visited on my Italian adventure over the summer. And just two months ago in November, I promised to post twice a month on this here blog.

Yeah...that didn't happen.

This is the part where I say that one of my 2019 New Year's Resolutions™ is to follow through on my promises, to finish what I start, and to fulfill each and every one of my commitments!

(At least not this year.)

For one thing, I've decided that New Year's Resolutions don't work for me. 

Part of the reason is that it's way too much pressure. Every time that I have resolved to do something starting January 1st--whether it's don't eat junk food, exercise 6 days a week, or journal every day--I've fallen off the wagon by Groundhog Day and then written off the rest of the year. ("Oh well. I tried. I'll try again next year.") With New Year's Resolutions, I tend to get into the mindset of "I have to get it perfect from the get-go." There's no room for making mistakes, for starting over, for growing and making progress. It's all or nothing, and that just isn't a sustainable way of thinking.

The other reason is that the whole big, grand "New Year's Resolution" title steals significance from all of the other goals that I've made and achieved in other parts of the year. I don't just make goals in January; I'm constantly striving to become the person that I want to be. 

So this year, I've rebranded, and am working on my Goals for 2019. AKA my 2019 Intentions. AKA, the things that I'm going to make happen this year. (They have many names.)

I'm being more intentional, and defining both the big, overarching themes of things that I want to work on, as well as the smaller things that I can change in order to make that happen. I'm expecting to make mistakes, and I'm also expecting to make growth. Each month, each week, each day is a chance to start working on a new small step that will bring me closer to my overall goals, or to start over, as needed. 

So without further ado, here are Jess's 2019 Intentions: 

1. Fill my cup. As a teacher, one of the metaphors that you hear a lot is "You can't pour from an empty cup." It basically translates to "Make sure you take care of yourself, so you can take care of the kids." 
• This year I will try to be more fearless about doing things that fill my cup. I will try not to be intimidated by putting myself out there in the course of trying new things. 
• Examples of things that make me feel fulfilled: learning (just for the heck of it), climbing (I want to do some outdoor climbing this year), traveling (obviously. But this year, fewer cities and more nature), and reading (instead of mindlessly bingewatching). And more!
2. Pour from my cup. The whole point of filling your cup is so that you can use what's in you to help fill others' cups. 
• I'm a selfish person. I know this, and rather than getting defensive and denying it (as I have in the past), I'm accepting it and trying to work on it. 
• Baby Step #1: Actively trying to think more of others. I tend to be fairly oblivious to anything outside of my own needs and desires. I am going to begin consciously trying to look beyond myself in order to see others' wants and needs. 
• Baby Step #2: Once my eyes are opened to others and their needs, I can begin "inconveniencing" myself in order to help others. I say "inconvenience" because I need to help others with no expectation of getting anything myself (otherwise, it's still selfish). Instead of thinking "Why should I help them? They haven't done anything for me," I will think "Why should I help them? Because I can see that they could use some help, and because I am capable of offering help," or "Why should I do this for them? Because it will make them happy."
• Added Bonus: doing things for other human beings will help keep me from getting wrapped up in and swallowed by my own shiznit.
3. Get on top of my finances. This one is a little more concrete. I have been somewhat negligent with my finances; and while I'm not in a bad position financially, I am finding that I don't have the money to do some of the things that I want to do. This year, I will be more proactive and intentional with my money, which will give me greater freedom to do things that fill my cup, and will prevent my finances from becoming a stressor. 
• I'd like to start working towards larger, longer-term financial goals, such as buying a new car (since my car's transmission is turning out to be a potentially very expensive and unpredictable hunk of junk). 
• I've already started working on my financial goal. A high school track teammate recently shared her personal finance blog on social media, and I've found it very helpful. 

So there you have it, folks. New year, same me. And by "same me" I mean "constantly trying to be a better me."

Happy New Year.

(I would say "new post coming soon," but we all know how that'll go. 🤣)

In Which Jess Does Some Crazy Shiznit

Well, since I last posted, I've been busy working on my bucket list. And as promised, I'm here to give you all the deets.

On Thursday, I checked off "get a tattoo:"

Extreme close-up.
(~3 minutes post-tat)

Why dandelions, you ask? (Or, if you're my mother, just "why?")

Well...

1. Dandelions are tough and stubborn, like me. 
2. Many people see dandelions as weeds, but to me, they've always been pretty flowers. My tattoo reminds me how much of a difference your mindset can make. 
3. The day after I made my tattoo appointment, my students brought me dandelions at recess for the first time, which melted my cold dead heart and reminded me that, even though they drive me completely batty at times (read: pretty much ALL the time), they are still sweet little humans at heart and they do love me. Hopefully my tattoo will help me remember that in upcoming school years as well. 

I've had this idea in my head for a while, and I'm so happy with how it turned out.

I was pretty nervous when the time came, though. I mean--I don't know if you're aware---a tattoo is PERMANENT. Even though I was sure that it was what I wanted, when it was actually time to walk in the door and do it, I was SHAKY. But as soon as the stencil was on my body, and I could actually see the design right there on my skin, I relaxed and was completely fine.

Whenever I talked to someone about my tattoo beforehand, and I told them where I planned to get it, they would wince and say, "Really? The ribs hurt pretty bad." Well, either they were overstating it, or I'm just super tough (and I like to think it's the latter), because I barely felt any pain. The biggest discomfort was when it was time to get up from the chair and look in the mirror; my arm had fallen asleep from holding it over my head for so long.  🤣

If you're in the HoCo area and looking to get a tattoo,
I totally recommend Casey Hart at Rose Red Tattoo...she did a fantastic job!

So now your favorite blogger is all inked up! Check that off the bucket list. 🗹

Friday morning dawned hot but clear; good weather for the next thing on my list of to-dos,  something that's been on my bucket list since my bucket list's very inception: skydiving.

I went to Skydive Delmarva, which I'd heard good things about from a friend who's working on his A-license. It was a bit of a hike (a 2-hour drive), but it was absolutely worth it.

I rolled up around 10:45am and proceeded to thoroughly read--and yet somehow still screw up on--the lengthy waiver. After signing my life away, I was introduced to my tandem skydiving instructor, Chris, a massive former Special Forces guy whose mere presence made me feel a whole lot safer about the whole jumping-out-of-a-plane thing, and my personal videographer, Ed, a 70-something-year-old with 2,000+ skydives under his belt. #goals

Fifteen minutes later, I was strapped into my harness and profusely sweating--from the 95° heat, not from nerves, I'll have you know--as the plane taxied into the loading zone.

Locked and loaded.

I realized as the plane lifted off that it was my first time in a small plane. I didn't have much time to dwell on that thought, though; I got distracted by the AC turning on. And by "AC turning on," I mean "the door opening at the back of the plane to get a cool breeze flowing through." I'd never been in a plane (large or small) with the door open mid-flight; I think most people can say the same.

Next thing I knew (really about 10 minutes later), Chris was quintuple-checking my harness and showing me the altimeter: 13,500ft. Time to go!

We were the last ones to leave the plane, but somehow I managed to blink and miss everyone else jumping out the door. All I remember is thinking "Holyshitholyshitholyshitholyshit" as we stood in the doorway, looking down at the ground oh-so-far below. And then suddenly we weren't in the plane anymore.

I don't really have the words to describe what it felt like--you've really got to experience it to understand it--but I'm going to try anyway.

After an initial moment of shock--"I just jumped out of a goddamn airplane!"--all I felt was exhilaration. Pure, unadulterated exhilaration. It was freaking AMAZING.

It all happened so fast, it was as though my brain got left behind and all that was left was pure sensation.

It didn't feel like falling...the air was pushing up on me so hard that it felt more like I was staying in one place while the ground was getting closer.

SO ALIVE

Before I knew it, Chris was pulling the ripcord and all the rushing in my ears abruptly ceased.

Once we were under the canopy and floating at a more sedate pace toward the earth, Chris asked how I felt. My brain still hadn't caught up to my body yet, and the first word I found was, "Cold."

About thirty seconds later, I was slightly more coherent--though even now I still don't have the words to fully express what it felt like--and I was able to tell him how completely mindblown I was, how alive I felt, what a freaking rush it was.

Chris pulled some crazy spins with the parachute on the way down, and we even went weightless for a moment or two, giving me the dropping sensation that I'd expected from the freefall.

I scored some sweet grass stains on my butt as, about 6 minutes after jumping out of a perfectly good airplane, we touched smoothly back down to earth.

Back on solid ground.

Back on the ground, I had no idea what to do with the rest of my day. Before skydiving, I'd had a notion that I might go to the beach, since I was most of the way there already. Post-jump, however, the idea seemed laughably lackluster.

I ended up hanging around, watching as other jumpers, both tandem and solo, came and went. I got to chatting with some of the staff and got a rundown of how the parachutes get packed, and how exactly they work when the ripcord is pulled.

Around 3:00, someone asked me if I wanted to do another tandem jump. My answer was something to the effect of, "Um, DUH!" I guess I hadn't realized that I had been waiting all day for someone to ask me that very question.

Since I didn't have a videographer for my second jump, Chris and I were free to do some crazy barrel rolls right out of the plane. So. Freaking. Fun.

There's nothing quite like looking up at the plane you've just leaped out of.

I got just as much of a rush from my second jump as I did from the first. God, it was fun! (See, I keep repeating myself because I just don't have the words!)

At the end of the video from my first jump, Ed (the videographer) asked me if I thought I'd do it again. I said, "Yeah, I think so." Guess there's no doubt left in anyone's mind now!

So...who's coming with me next time?

Getting Political

I have sort of held off on talking about any political issues--in real life and here on my blog--because I haven't felt well-informed enough about the issues to intelligently discuss them. But recently I've come to recognize that thought for the excuse that it is; I should be actively seeking to stay informed about the issues at hand, rather than waiting for the information to come to me. (By the time it does get to me, not only is it often obsolete, it's also usually been distorted beyond credibility anyway.)

I still don't feel that I've done enough research into the current issues to write an intelligent post about them (yet), but I did want to share this sort of epiphany that I had in the hopes that it will encourage you, my dear readers, to also be politically proactive.

1. Actively seek out information from multiple credible sources. 
2. Share this information with others...not just on social media. Have an intelligent, respectful discussion about the issues. Don't be afraid to have your views challenged...it's okay to disagree, and it's okay to change your opinion based on new information or a new way of thinking. That's growth!
3. DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT. Call your Congresspeople at (202-224-3121). Tell them what you want them to do...after all, they represent you! You can also use GovTrack.us to find out who your senators and representatives are. 
4. Vote, vote, vote! Don't use a lack of information as an excuse; a great way to be informed about the candidates on the ballot is to check out Vote411.org. 

Whatever your political beliefs are, government only works if we make it work for us.

Wouldn't be a Jess blog post without a meme. 

Summer 2018

Well, hello there...long time, no see.

My bad.

The last 4 months of the school year (yes, it has been that long since my last post, and yes, I am sorry) were tough, to say the least. Most of the time, I was just hanging on, counting down the days--and on some days, the hours--left in the school year. It was always too many.

Now that summer vacation has finally--FINALLY!--arrived, I find myself with both the time and the motivation to blog. So here we go...

Let's start with a (brief) reflection on my first year as a full-time teacher:

Pretty much sums it up.

I survived my first year of teaching 3rd grade with my sanity (somewhat) intact.

Now summer is here, and I haven't checked my school email since the last day of school, nor do I plan to anytime soon. (If anyone from work is reading this, don't rat me out. K thanks.)

No more thinking about school...my focus is on enjoying the bejesus out of my summer!

I had to.
Last meme for now, I promise. 

So what do I have planned for this summer? I'm so glad you asked...

Ya girl is getting out of the country again!

That's right, I will be making my triumphant return to Europe when I go to Italy in July. My rough itinerary for my two-and-a-half-week trip is:

1. Fly to Italy. 
2. Eat a crap ton of pasta.
3. Eat a crap ton of gelato.
4. Visit family in Germany. 
5. Have coffee and cake every day.
6. Fly home. 

For those of you wondering which cities I will be in when I am eating my body weight in Italian food:

• Rome (day trips to Pompeii and possibly Capri)
• Florence (day trip to Pisa)
• Cinque Terre
• Venice (day trip to Verona and hiking in the Dolomites)

If any of y'all have been to Italy and have any suggestions for me, leave a comment! I love love love travel recommendations!

The rest of this summer, I'm working at Go Ape treetop adventure course again, so I'll be spending a lot of time outdoors. (Come visit me at work if you fancy a swing through the trees!)

On my days off, I'm scheming a lot of day trips to the beach, some hiking, and checking off items on my bucket list. (Stay tuned for more details on that!)

I'm also hoping to see Hamilton at the Kennedy Center at some point this summer, so if anyone needs any ideas for a birthday gift for me... *wink wink*

↑ Me when I start talking about Hamilton. 

My friends and family. ↑

But actually.

Anyhoo, that's all for now, loyal readers. My *goal* for this summer is 2 blog posts a month, so you'll hear from me again soon. ☺

I'm Addicted

In the last 5 months, it's gone from occasional recreational activity to hobby to habit to obsession to full-blown addiction.

I just can't get enough.

Ladies and gentlemen, I'm talking about rock climbing. (Bet I had you going for a moment there, though...heh-heh-heh.)

It all started over the summer, when I climbed a couple of times with some cool people from work (y'all know who you are) after we closed up the course for the day.

No, wait, it kind of started before that.

The first couple of years that I was at Towson, there was a rock wall in the fitness center. I went a few times with friends, and while it was definitely fun, running was my drug of choice at the time. First I was training for a marathon, and then Kronum came along, and then I graduated and went off to Europe. (I may have mentioned that little trip once or twice before...) Suffice to say, I didn't catch the climbing bug the first time around.

Flash back to last summer at Go Ape, when the aforementioned cool work friends said that they were going climbing after work. I was totally eavesdropping on their conversation at the time, and managed to finagle myself an invitation to tag along.

A few weeks later, I had an Earth Treks membership and a harness of my very own. (Happy Birthday to me!)

You could say I was hooked.

See, the thing about climbing--for me, at least--is that it's completely engaging. I am so entirely in the moment when I'm climbing, because it is simultaneously a workout and a brain teaser. I have to figure out how to get myself up the wall, move by move, and I have to work my muscles (in occasionally mind-boggling contortions) to make that happen.

Me.

It's the ultimate in mindfulness practices for me: body and brain, united for a common goal, and existing entirely within the moment.

Continuing with the meditation metaphor, topping out a tough climb is its own kind of nirvana. That feeling when I get my chalk-covered hands on the top of the wall...the thrill and the relief just wash over me...I freaking EARNED it.

And I love that I can see and feel myself making progress. When I started out, I was top roping mostly 5.8s and 5.9s, and I've worked my way up now to some 5.11as. I started out bouldering V1s, and on Friday, I tried my first V5. (I literally belly flopped off it, but still.)

*For those of you who don't speak climber, here's a nifty little article that gives a basic rundown of climbing grades.

I'm totally hooked. I've started watching climbing videos on YouTube, and I'm looking into good places for outdoor climbing in the area. (Any suggestions??) My workouts on non-climbing days are primarily based on what will help me become a better climber. (Hint: lots of chin-ups, push-ups, and fly lifts are involved.)

The climbing community is also super awesome. Everyone is so friendly and helpful to each other! If I'm working on the same bouldering problem as someone else, I'll inevitably end up offering (and receiving) some suggestions and encouragement. And when I do finally top out, my new best bud is celebrating with me.

I love it. I love it I love it I love it.

I could go on about how awesome climbing is forEVER. I could, but I won't. I'll just leave you with this:

(Actual pictures of me actually climbing will be in another post.)

Stay weird, y'all. 

I Lied.

Okay, so remember way back to a month ago, when I promised that I would be posting again soon? Well, "soon," it turns out, is a relative term.

The first five weeks of school have simultaneously flown by and dragged on. Noteworthy incidents include:

• A student cutting his own hair on the third day of school;
• Vomit (luckily into a trash can, but it was a close one);
• Finding out that one of my students knew literally ZERO English (and of course, I knew ever-so-slightly-more-than-ZERO Spanish);
• One student cussing out another student (who had told the first student that his hair looked like noodles);
• Two nosebleeds from two separate students on the same day (unrelated...I think);
• A decidedly failed experiment in which my students chose their own seats;
• And countless technical difficulties.

To sum it up, a rather eventful first month.

To say that I am tired would be a vast understatement. To say that I am frazzled would be an understatement of mythical proportions.

I mean, I knew that the first year of teaching would be tough, to say the least, but....the metaphor that I'm using at the moment is that I am just barely treading water. My head frequently dips below the surface, I feel like I'm drowning, and I'm going literally nowhere but somehow I'm still floating.

Too much negativity? I concur. I just had to get that off my chest.

And now for what I love about my job:

• The hugs that I started getting from my students on the second day of school.
• Math. (I hated it as a student, but I LOVE teaching it!)
• Writing positive post-it notes to my students (on a semi-regular basis) and watching their faces light up when they read them first thing in the morning.
• Posting teaching memes in the faculty bathroom. (And only one other person knows that it's me doing it...heeheehee.) This one got the most laughs:

• My classroom. It's chaotic, but it's my own personal disaster zone.
• STAR time (Students and Teachers All Reading) at the end of the day. I'm reading my class Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, and even though it feels like nobody is listening sometimes, they always ask me at the end of each day whether we're reading Harry Potter today. 😊 Now if I could just get them as excited about the stuff in the curriculum, we'd be in business.

Anyway. That's it for now. It's about 3 hours past when I wanted to be in bed. Just wanted to let y'all know that I'm still alive.

Ish.

The Camping Trip That Was, and a Flurry of Interviews

Around the time of the solstice, Evan and I kind of spontaneously went camping in Shenandoah National Park. I say "kind of" because Evan had been planning the trip for about a week and a half, but I had somehow missed the memo. Much scrambling to pack ensued as a result, but I managed not to forget anything major.

We got on the road right after work and--in spite of a pit stop for s'mores makings--found ourselves on Skyline Drive in time for the sunset, which was about as picturesque as it sounds.

Slightly less picturesque was our dinner that evening: canned soup eaten by the light from our headlamps. (By the time we got the tent set up, it was dark dark dark.)

It was pretty chilly up on the mountain, so we slept pretty well. So well, in fact, that we were unable to wrest ourselves from our sleeping bags until almost 9:00am. So much for getting an early start on our day of hiking. Since our early start was already shot entirely to heck, we decided we might as well linger over breakfast.

Breakfast of hiking champions.

We finally left the campsite around 10:30. After a brief stop to get a map from the ranger station--no cell service *gasp!*--we were on our way to Old Rag Mountain, one of my all-time favorite hikes. Thanks to my killer navigational skills, we made it there without any wrong turns or stopping to ask for directions.

Fresh-faced at the start of the hike!

Since it was a Thursday, we had the mountain pretty much to ourselves, aside from a family with several kids, one of whom swore up and down he'd seen a black bear. (In a disappointing turn of events, we saw no such bear. This will go down in history as the only time that I have visited Shenandoah without seeing at least one bear.)

As we approached the rock scramble to the summit, we were both dying a little bit (okay, a lot of bit). Apparently walking 10-plus miles around European cities for 4.5 months does not keep one in shape enough to climb a mountain. Who knew?

"Just leave me here."

Nevertheless, we persisted, and made it to the summit.

I'm occasionally capable of taking a decent picture. 

We wound our way back down, and made our triumphant return to the campsite. Evan pulled out all the stops when making dinner that night: crispy salmon with orzo and broccoli. It was one of those meals that I was halfway through before I thought to take a picture, so I'll have to just leave it up to your imagination.

We lounged by the fire after dinner, me making s'more after s'more while Evan made healthy life decisions.

No regrets.

After a little bit of stargazing, we crawled into the tent and were asleep within minutes. Of course, we woke right up a few hours later when the tent threatened to blow away.

It's so much harder to sleep through a tropical storm when there's only a thin layer of fabric between you and it.

We finally gave up trying to sleep around 6:00am, and, after fighting the gale-force winds to pack up the tent, decided that trying to cook breakfast would be more trouble than it was worth. So we put my navigational prowess to use once again, and headed towards home.

Our phones started buzzing shortly before a Wawa came into sight (the first sign of civilization!).

Evan immediately Googled "breakfast near me" and came up with Frost Diner, right across the intersection from the Wawa. The diner didn't look like much, inside or out, but we could tell from the seats packed with locals (even at 9:30am on a work day) that it was going to be good.

We each ordered a #4: three ginormous pancakes, three eggs, a pile of potatoes, and a side of bacon and sausage (both of which went to Evan).

Needless to say, we were stuffed. (Also needless to say, I forgot to take a picture before tearing into it.)

We made it back home before noon, and decided that it was a beautiful day to wash our cars. Of course, by the time Tuesday rolled around, my car was no longer sparkling clean.

What was significant about Tuesday, you ask? Well, that fateful Tuesday was the day that I had three (count 'em) job interviews lined up.

I'm getting really good at bragging about myself.

And now, two weeks (and five interviews) later, I have a full-time teaching job lined up for the fall! I'm going to be signing up for benefits and everything. #adulting

Third grade, here I come!

Hire Me! (Please?)

Guess what? Your favorite blogger has a summer job!

If you had asked me about a week ago what my summer plans were, my answer would've been "a whole lot of nothing." I wanted to enjoy my summer, dammit. But then I spent an entire Saturday doing absolutely nothing and realized that if I tried to spend the whole summer that way, I would be stir-freaking-crazy. Not to mention the fact that I would blow through what little savings I have managed to accumulate since coming home from Europe.

So I decided that I might want to be employed this summer after all.

First, I thought of jobs I'd previously held: the last two summers, I worked as a campus tour guide and answering phones in the admissions office at Towson. But since I'm no longer a student, neither of those is an option anymore. My next thought was returning to the daycare that I worked at for the two summers prior to the tour guide gig. But since I'll already be working with children nine months out of the year, doing so in the summer was extremely unappealing. And I've heard so many horror stories from friends who work in retail or restaurants that I had to rule those two sectors out as well.

I might be getting a job, but I'm not getting one that will make me miserable.

Around the time that I was brainstorming possible not-life-sucking summer jobs, Evan and I were planning to do the "treetop adventure" course where his sister works. Serendipitously (is that a word?), she mentioned that they were hiring. So I sent in my resume, and within five days, I was hired.

Trust me, I'm a professional.

I feel like I'm getting used to the whole interviewing thing. Which isn't to say that I don't still get nervous; of course I still get nervous. But it's no longer the debilitating, burst-into-tears-in-the-hallway-beforehand brand of nervousness. Now it's just a little bit of tension; once I actually start answering the interview questions, I'm actually fine. Fake-it-till-you-make-it: surprisingly effective!

As for my school-year job prospects: I've been on about eight or so interviews, but so far...nada. The typical timing for a new teacher getting hired is sometime in July. As in next month. As in five whole months after I sent in my application.

So. Much. Waiting.

I just want to know where I'm going to be and what grade I'm going to be teaching, that way I can start planning lessons, getting things for my classroom, and--oh, I don't know--figuring out where I'm going to live starting this fall. *sigh*

I know it's all going to work out. I'm not worried, per se...I just feel very in limbo at the moment, not having any of that figured out.

Hopefully the employment gods smile upon me soon.

What's the Opposite of a Green Thumb?

Answer: Jess's thumb.

My track record for gardening is rather grim: I kill pretty much every plant that I attempt to grow. Sometimes I forget to water them for days at a time, but usually what happens is I water them too much, worried that I forgot to water them the day before.

Cause of death: an excess of love.

Because you always want what you can't have, I want SO badly to be a successful gardener. I have this mental image of myself wearing a floppy straw hat and overalls, carrying baskets laden with homegrown fruits, veggies, and flowers as I walk barefoot through neat rows of flourishing plants.

I know. I'm ridiculous.

I think part of it is that I love productive hobbies. I took up knitting while I was traveling partially because it was something to do on all of the trains, buses, and planes I spent hours on, but also because I had something to show for it around Christmas time.

See the scarf my aunt is wearing? Yeah, I made that. (No big deal.)

Gardening is another one of those productive hobbies: you put in the work, you get yummy food and pretty flowers. Bam.

My great-grandfather had a substantial garden, which my grandparents and great-uncle still maintain. When I was younger, we would spend a few days there every summer, and we would be put to work, pulling weeds, watering, and harvesting the produce. Each night, we would eat the fruits (and vegetables) of our labors.

My family has a decent-sized backyard garden these days. More often than not, it's been kind of an overgrown mishmash of squash, bean, and tomato plants, all of which produce far more than we could ever eat by ourselves. We've also had a few incidents of accidental gardening: the seeds from something in the compost heap sprout in the garden, and the mystery plant thrives amidst all of the intentionally-cultivated plants.

To me, there's just something so appealing about growing your own food. You're so connected to the process: you know exactly what went into the food that you're eating. Fruits and vegetables from the grocery store are always a bit of a question mark in that respect.

Homegrown foods also just taste so much better than mass-produced, sat-on-a-truck-for-500-plus-miles, grocery-store produce. (Saving money is just an added bonus.)

So I'm giving this gardening thing another shot. I'm currently attempting to grow carrots, sunflowers, peppermint, spearmint, and wildflowers in my family's garden. The sunflowers are doing the best so far (they're fairly hardy plants, thank goodness), but the mint isn't doing too bad, either. The carrots, well...too soon to say.

Stay tuned to find out whether I can break the curse of the non-green-thumb! Feel free to share any gardening tips or stories that you have. ☺

Run, Jess, Run

Well, that was fun.

I can say that now, because I'm done. At the time that I was running, especially the last mile, "fun" probably would not have been my first choice of word to describe my 5k.

The morning dawned overcast and humid. It wasn't too hot, though--thanks for sparing me that much, Momma Nature. I got up at 6:00 to eat some eggs and toast (breakfast of champions!), and then went back to bed for another half hour or so of shuteye.

I arrived at the course at 7:45, thirty minutes before the start. Twenty minutes of that were spent in line for the bathroom (of course I forgot to go before I left the house), and then I did a quick little warm up and some stretching before taking my place at the start of the course.

Not having done a race in over two years, I kind of forgot how much of an effect the race-day vibe has. It was exciting! The music at the start, all of these people running together...it was great!

Here we go!

The first two miles were on level ground or downhill, so I was feeling pretty great. I was passing people pretty easily. My running app clocked my pace at 8:20/mile, which was a bit faster than I'd been aiming for--which I partially credit to race-day adrenaline--but since that pace was feeling good, I went with it.

I sort of regretted it when I started the final mile, which was ALL. UP. HILL.

I mean, on the one hand, I'm glad that I pushed the pace a bit when it was still feeling good, but maybe I should have saved a little bit more so I could tackle those hills. Instead of passing people, I started getting passed by a few.

By the last quarter mile, I was breathing none too quietly, and I'm sure my face was none too pretty. But as the finish line came into view, I decided that I was going to chase the guy about 25 yards ahead of me, and beat him to the finish. Which I did, before promptly flopping down on the grass in the shade of a large tree.

Post-race bagel: essential.

Evan met me at the finish and took on the role of my unofficial photographer as I got my race results, and my medal.

That's right, I got a medal.

1st in my age group (females 20-29), 8th out of 40 females overall, and 35th out of all 96 5k-ers.

Bam.

Time to start training for the next race!