So since I've become obsessive about quilting and sewing with bright, graphic, modern cotton fabrics I've been thinking it's time to blog some more... Maybe I can share some pictures of the pretty or funky little things I've been coming up with.
So far I'm most in love with the projects found in the blog and archives of www.sewmamasew.com -- their fabric is the best, too... though maybe a little too nice for my budget a lot of the time :).

Why are humans so arrogant? At least sometimes we figure out what our place really is:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=948Nm34arfA

Been busy with the end of the grading period and other such distractions, but I promise to have something to say very soon...

Today I'm going to be overtly political, though in a bi-partisan way... did that make sense? Oh well, I'm spastic. Now, don't get me wrong, I'm fiscally conservative and there is no doubt in my mind about that. Otherwise I'm a live and let live kind of gal, so that technically makes me a libertarian, though I'll be shocked if they ever put a non-quack up for election. At any rate, immigration is an area that I am very interested in because of my job, but I can say that the more I learn, the more I find more questions than answers. Immigration is a sticky issue and I don't begin to profess to know the answers to the myriad problems associated with the unchecked flow of Central Americans and Mexicans to this country over the last several decades.

There is one area, however, that I have no question about. That is minors who are brought to this country. This is an issue I would have never given much thought about if it were not for my job. In the school where I teach, 40% of our student body is Latino and it would be safe to say about one quarter of them are undocumented. That means that one out of every 10 students in my classroom at any given moment are undocumented. These are children who were not responsible for the choice to come to this country through illegal means. Minors can not enter in to contracts and are not held to the same standards for breaking laws (in most cases) that aduts are. So why do we punish these minors in an arguably harsher way than we do their parents who are responsible for their presence here?

I imagine you are now asking yourself, how do you argue that we punish these children more harshly than their parents? And what do you mean by punishment, I mean, we don't really deport people very often, right? Well, here's the thing, in this wonderful country we are all entitled to a free public education and we infact require children to go to school until the age of 16. This requirement is extended to immigrant children regardless of their immigration status, due I'm sure to some past passing of a bill or court case. I could look it up, but it doesn't really matter because it's just fact. There is a veritable don't ask/don't tell policy in place in the public schools, at least in my state. We are not allowed to ask the immigration status of a student, though their status does not change the fact that we are charged with educating them. As we should be, because if there are throngs of immigrant children rattling around your town, do you want them in school during the day and educated, or rambling the streets getting in to trouble (eventually causing an explosion in our country's already serious street gang problem with the time on the hands of the children and their lack of education -- idle hands are afterall the devil's playground, right?)?

So -- we have these kids sitting in our schools learning -- being asked to be successful and achieve just like everyone else. When a student ever asks, "why?" we say some form of, "for your future," whether the question is about a novel or a geometric formula or the point of homework. These undocumented students look around and see their documented and natural citizen counterparts working hard and being rewarded with that "future." College. Good jobs. What does the undocumented student have to look forward to? The same gruelling work in a poultry factory that brought their parents here to start with? Well, they can do this work without finishing high school. So why try? Why learn? I see two problems.

The first problem I will call the "Annie Effect." Did you ever notice how cruel the premise of the movie Annie actually is? "I'm Daddy Warbucks. I'll pluck you from your horrific orphanage for 2 weeks to show you how awesome life is for someone else, how it COULD be if you were someone else, and then put you right back in your horrific orphanage." That is just MEAN. Thank goodness Annie won his heart and put a stop to the madness. How many kids before her tried putting their heads in ovens after their return to the orphanage? This is what we are doing to these kids. We say, "college is awesome, being educated gives you opportunities, don't you want to live a great life and have 2 cars and 2.3 kids and a dog and maybe even have a pool?" And then we say, "just kidding, go back to your cardboard shack in Honduras." This is cruel!

The second problem is what happens to a class of kids when 10% of the kids have no hope. If you have no expectation of reward for hard work, do you work hard? Chances are, the answer is no. Learning for the sake of learning is a concept lost on adolescents, in case you were wondering. Having students with absolutely no motivation to do work, listen, even follow simple directions such as "stay quietly in your seat" sullies the educational environment for EVERY student, regardless of ethnicity or status.

These kids deserve to dream that they can work hard and achieve the chance to live they see all around them. As a two year old being hauled across the desert at 2am, do you think even you would stop and say, "um, Mom (or more likely, big brother/sister), I think this is illegal?" Doubtful. And even if you did, would "Mom" listen? Doubtful. They can't be held responsible for their status.

There is an piece of legislation which was introduced to both the House and the Senate on March 26 of this year called the DREAM (Development, Relief and Education for Alien Minors) Act. This proposed legislation allows for immigrants who can prove that they:

• came to the US before the age of 16
• have been in the US for 5 consecutive years
• is between the ages of 12 and 35 when the bill is enacted
• has graduated from high school or earned a GED
• and is of "good moral character" (measured by recommendation by a teacher, boss, etc.)

can be issued a visa to remain in this country for six probationary years in which they must complete a 2 year degree, complete 2 years towards a four year degree or serve 2 years in the US armed forces. Upon completion of this requirement such a person may apply for a green card.

The DREAM Act gives hope to students outside of early, loveless marriage to make their efforts in school and to be a good citizen worth while. I hope you will support this legislation and even contact your representative. The DREAM Act has bipartisan support. My fear is that concerns with the economy and preoccupation with proving "Change" will cause this act to be forgotten.

I've been noticing all day that there is a pall of gloom hanging over everything. The sky is charcoal, but it just won't start raining. The temperature is not pleasantly warm or cool, but has the feeling of a just broken fever that makes you want a shower. Add on to that, my usual difficulty with running errands bothered me more than usual. First I needed to go to the pharmacy, but I was 5 minutes down the road before I realized I left the prescriptions at home. Turn around. Back on the road. I'm trying to cover the darkness of the sky by putting down the sun visor, thinking that will somehow fool my subconscious and the feeling of anxiety in the pit of my stomach will relent. Alas no. I get to the pharmacy, drop off, ask directions to the grocery store that I know is right around one of these corners. I manage to take a wrong turn in the 1/4 mile to the store and end up taking a 15 minute drive to Walmart. The Walmart is weirder than usual, all disheveled while being remodeled. We all know I'm chronically spastic, but I just can't shake it all with a sunny attitude like usual...

And then it hits me. I know why this day is so wrong and unpleasant and weird. It's tax day. I filed my taxes months ago, and thankfully received a refund, but the mass wiriness and anxiety of the rest of American society somehow seeped in to the weather, and in to me. Ew!

So to all of you who must pay taxes today, I send a heartfelt shoulder rub. And do this one little exercise that will help, DO NOT, under ANY CIRCUMSTANCES, think for one second about where that money is going EXCEPT for the support of our armed forces. That's it. Pretend it's a check straight to them. That's the only way I can stand to look at my pay stub every month.

I say that even knowing I am on the state government payroll as a teacher. But trust me, if you saw what I see at my job everyday, you'd be on the lawn of every capital with a big sign asking for school vouchers. Sigh!

Now that the fog of week-before-spring-break is beginning to lift from my brain I can finally get to telling some of the latest priceless moments from my little corner of life...

I teach a group of kids success/college skills at the high school where I teach English. It's a group for kids that are intelligent and motivated but for some reason don't have the same advantages as other kids when it comes to knowing how to "do school" or get in to college (parents from another country, parents didn't finish school, etc.). Part of the program is to take the kids on two college visits per year to give them a chance to see schools as their parents may not be able to take them themselves. The coordinator of this program at my school is a short Costa Rican man who epitomizes the Napoleonic complex. He thinks he is God's gift to... well, everything. It's pretty funny. Well, Napoleon here is the only one of us that was dumb enough to get a bus driver's license so he has to take us on these trips (I draw the line at driving 30 teens in a tin can on steroids).
So, Napoleon is driving along using his little navigation system thingie that he thinks makes him super cool. The fact of the matter is that he just has no idea where he is going, though prior to the trip he acted like he pretty much owned the college. We're in the middle of B-F-nowhere in rural NC and it's time to get on the interstate. The navigation system (the same type Miss Sylvia calls "the bitch") tells Napoleon to keep left. Ignoring the big red signs that say... oh something or another... he keeps left.
Yes, our behemoth tin can began barrelling down the interstate going the WRONG WAY. MORON! The kids in the back are screaming (they don't even have driver's licenses yet, but somehow THEY were smart enough to read the signs...), and Napoleon says, in his little accent, "I think I did something rrreally bad." YA THINK? So he pulls over to the shoulder before any near misses, thank God. Pondering his choices, he decides to attempt a three point turn in the grass. Um yeah. So we got stuck of COURSE. We can't go back, but we can go forward, so we took our overgrown grocery container off-roading back to the off-ramp that we had just used as an on-ramp. NICE JOB! I was just controlling the impulse to lay down in the isle and literally roll around laughing at this little Waterloo.
Twenty or so minutes later we go for a potty stop at McD's. I go in for some coffee as I am an ADULT. Napoleon has the gall, upon my return, to make a comment about not wanting any delays. I said, "Hey, buddy, I didn't drive the wrong way on the interstate..." He didn't have anything else to say about my coffee :).

However cliche it may be, I am very much enjoying being back in my hometown with my parents and sisters and kid brother for Easter weekend. Puck stayed home. I am so glad it is spring break finally. I need a break from my students. I brought Kate with me to play with my parents' dogs and we're just having a lovely time. I made a great birthday cake for my sisters, whose birthdays were last month. It is an almond cream cheese pound cake with chocolate mousse filling frosted with chocolate fudge frosting. I decorated it with tiny rosette borders in the fudge and then did french lace on top in baby blue and put tiny baby blue french dots between the rosettes. It came out delicious AND beautiful! I think the Easter bunny might even manage to bring me a prize or two overnight... nothing like going home again!

I just like the way that "word" sounds. And -- I believe it is an accurate description of what is in my mind right now.

It is the week before spring break. As a teacher, there are few weeks that equal this one on the frazzle meter. Miss Sylvia and I have figured out that spring break -1 is tops the chart for both teacher and student burn out. I have to say, I am a victim this year again. My brain is made of tapioca and I am dangerously close to rigging my room with C4. But we'll allllll feel better in about 4 days. This is the reason for my absence over the past few days.

Monday was my and Puck's 7 year anniversary. Money is so tight around here it makes Paris Hilton's pants look like pajamas, but we splurged on our favorite Italian place for a romantic dinner. It was AMAZING as always. Since I'm doing ww, I've made my lasagne and chocolate truffle cake last for three days. It's been marvelous. The last hoorah will be to take the rest to school for lunch tomorrow. Usually all I have is a pb sandwich so that will be awesome.

Wow, this is boring. Now you know that's why I haven't posted. When my brain returns to me, I have a marvelous story to tell about my AP students and their insipid insights on personal responsibility. It'll depress your socks off.

Today is a truly lovely day. I'm sitting here by my open window with breeze and sunshine pouring in again, just like last weekend. After a mildly busy morning of straightening up while I was out, Puck is napping. All I can hear is the ticking of a clock, his rhythmic breathing and the twitter of early spring birds. Tio is sitting in the window whipping his tail and he watches those birds flitting from tree to tree behind the house.

Somewhere along my growing up I discovered the value in truly paying attention to and appreciating the little things -- in paying attention to my surroundings and not taking the simple for granted. I find great peace in following and enjoying the changes in the weather and in the plants and animals that change in and visit my backyard. This isn't to say I spend much time cultivating plants as gardening does not really keep my interest, but I do love paying attention to whatever God plants. Lately He's been working on a nice honeysuckle ground covering in my little patch of woods. I am a fan.

This morning I weighed in at WW and I've lost another 1.8 lbs. Woo hoo! My total now is 21.2 lbs down. The only tough days this week were Monday and Friday. Those seem to be the toughest days each week. Since I weigh in on Saturday mornings, I usually use my WPA (weekly points allowance, "extra" points) on the weekends. It just seems to work for me that way; I can look forward to the weekend if I've been craving chocolate or whatever and be good during the busy schedule of the week when I barely have time to eat anyway. So now I've gone down enough to lose another daily point. Waa! Oh well, I'll survive.

On the way home from WW I stopped by a yard sale a few doors down from my house. The neighbors are moving back to upstate NY. I managed to score three stuffed bags of books for the change I could scrounge in the car. This is very exciting! This neighbor is an avid reader and had quite a collection. About half are for my classroom. The kids these days just want mysteries, murder and vampires, and there was plenty of that to be had in this particular collection. I always try to keep my room stocked with books. I read once where someone had written that they knew their teacher valued books because everywhere they looked in the room they saw books. This person said that not only did this cultivate their own love of books, but also created a sense of trust in the teacher -- that the students knew that the teacher meant and believed the way she talked about valuing books and literacy. I work on keeping a mixture of both high interest books (the mysteries and vampires) and classics. I want to cultivate their interest in the classics, but more realistically I just hope to create a familiarity with the titles and authors -- sort of a subliminal cultural education. I know they are much less likely to ask to borrow and read these books, but at least when they are day dreaming and not listening to me, they are staring at these covers and becoming familiar with their existence. This is also why I leave vocabulary words and quotes all over my board all week. Gosh darn it they will learn SOMETHING.

As for my drama earlier this week with the reprimand for "caring" as it were, it seems like the situation is somewhat resolved as far as I am concerned. Keep your fingers crossed for me.

My plan for the rest of this lovely day is to recline here and read one of the books I scored earlier today, Lucky by Alice Sebold. I'm a fan of The Lovely Bones and have been intersted in reading this memior for a while. A little later, after Puck's nap, we'll have eggs and grits for lunch and watch a movie or two. I hope to see Slumdog Millionaire if it has made its way to our OnDemand channel yet. If I see anything fantastic, or fantastically terrible, I'll be sure to share.

Ever been reprimanded for doing your job? Well, if you're a teacher, you probably have been. It's a sad thing but true.

What is the job of a teacher? Yes, we impart information, but does our job stop at just that? For many teachers it does. For me it does not. I listen. I pay attention. I encourage and try to help. I have students that are abused, abandoned, neglected and worse. I get paid no more for going the extra mile for my students, but I believe it is a moral imperative. If you will, I believe it is my calling from God. I know we live in a litigious world and I know that we have to be careful about what we say. Today I was reprimanded because I gave a child and her mother pedagogically relevant advice that both the parent and child appreciated. What is the deal if we can get in trouble for making a helpful suggestion -- a suggestion that was REQUESTED and APPRECIATED. The powers that be are displeased because now they have to take some action to help the child.

Where does this attitude end? When I think of the students that I have that have no one else, and I think that I have to stand by and watch them go through hardship that I could easily help with a kind word, a pat on the back, but I am not allowed to provide this -- I can not morally stand idly by.

After a lecture on musical devices in poetry, I took my AP class out in to the sun to talk about haiku and enjoy listening to some haiku readings. After about 15 or so poems it was starting to get old but we had about 15 minutes left until the end of the period. We were by the football field and my very atheletic group begged to go out and play red rover. Feeling adventurous, I joined in. They spared me from most of the action, but eventually someone decided to run between me and the poor kid to my right. Every bone in my hand and wrist is still aching from being barrelled in to at full speed by a varsity soccer player. I was, by God's grace, ignored for awhile, but eventually I just had to be called across. I heard my team of students behind me cheering me on, telling me to go for it. So what the heck, I did, regardless of my spastic history. I didn't make it through the hands on the other side, but I did make it OVER them. I landed on my right boob and left hand on the other side. OW! I scraped my knee somehow too. Most of my ow-ies feel better now but that right hand is still killing me...

People hate Mondays. I think this fact has been scientifically proven. Because I love my job, I don’t really hate Mondays with the passion and fervor I did when I worked in a cubicle, but there are two things I do hate:
1) Waking up at 5:15 when I’ve stayed up until 12. Uggggggggggggg.
2) I spend the morning frantically scrambling to print and copy and locate my materials. Poo.

One thing that has been excellent about this particular Monday is the uproarious time we had in third block today. During third block I teach AP English Literature and Composition. In a lecture earlier this semester I was discussing verbal irony and the difference between being sarcastic and being facetious. It came to my attention during that class that one of our more incompetent teachers was telling students that facetious (which she evidently things is spelled fEcetious or fEceStious) means “full of shit.” This is of course not AT ALL what facetious means! This particular factoid now comes up often in our class. Today we finished our lecture on allusion and tone in poetry a little early and I had a very, very mischievous moment. I decided that it would be both educational and hilarious to prepare a poster with the proper definition of facetious for posting near the room of said incompetent teacher. It is, after all, just a definition AND I am severely disturbed by this woman as she teaches students incorrect and inappropriate information (such as that elephants do not have penises) regularly and admits that what she knows about science she learned from CSI and Grey’s Anatomy. Have you seen these shows? Yes, she’s a science teacher. Sad. ANYWAY, we made a bright colored poster with the word facetious in big letters with the “a” underlined and a photocopy from the dictionary of the definition highlighted in green. Then, for the piece de resistance I did a google search of “define: fecetious” which called up “do you mean facetious” and “no such word as fecetious.” I highlighted those in green and added them to the poster. I know, I’m a terrible person. But it’s really hilarious. And what can I say, I’m passive aggressive. I think I learned this skill from my (ahem) parents. So, we posted the poster. And no, I don’t feel bad at all about it because: a) it was a public service and b) she is an idiot.

UPDATE: The poor moron saw the poster an hour or so later. She had no idea what it meant. Sources say she walked back in to her room and proceeded to tell the class her usual definition of the word. Alas, my attempt at lessening ignorance one word at a time was thwarted.

And, finally -- because I find the spam I get so entertaining, I would to share a little I received today. A secretary in Nigeria named Mr. Obimaix (referred to in the email as “she”) has $7.5 million dollars for me. Sweet! I can really use that to pay my bills. He/she wasn’t the only one with millions of dollars for me today, he/she was just the most recent. I also received three job offers this morning. Who says we’re in a recession? I always feel the urge to hit reply and send a message that says something like "You're a tool!" or something even more vulgar. However, I once saw a Dateline that sufficiently scared me in to remaining silent.

I just watched the most lovely little movie. It is called Penelope, and I highly recommend it!

It's a really beautiful spring day today. It is very breezy and just warm enough to be perfectly comfortable. Even though I have a gigantic stack of papers to grade, I've been relaxing and enjoying the day of rest the way I believe God intended. Yes, I have been lounging in bed with Puck, Tio and Kate watching movies and scribbling in my journal. Alice and Scout are under the bed, but come up occaisionally to lick our faces and say hello. Every now and then they go out the hall to wrestle where we won't fuss at them to be quite. The windows of our bedroom are open and the breeze is pouring in with the sunlight. Right now Puck is snoring away at a nap and I have just put a load of laundry in the wash. It's pretty much heavenly.

I'm thinking of taking Scout for a walk in the neighborhood. We both need one.

I have been working on losing weight with Weight Watchers since the first of the year. Back about five years or so ago I lost 40lbs with ww, and did so relatively quickly. Then, all at once, I changed jobs, Puck had a major orthopaedic surgery and I had to have my gall bladder out (because of the fast weight loss). Shortly thereafter I broke my ankle. All that combined was more than I could hold in my head at once and I fell off the wagon. Since then I have tried starting back many times but have always quit, usually in week 2. Well, this time I'm sticking to it for the long haul. It's slower going than it was the first time because I get side tracked here and there, but I refuse to quit. So far I have lost 19.4 pounds. This week I will be journaling everything and doing some walking to see if I can lose more than 1/2 a pound in a week...

I thought you might enjoy my next spastic moment that occurred after I posted last. As I logged off and got ready to leave Panera I wanted a refill of iced tea for the road. As I walked to the drink area I put my purse (the across the shoulder type) on and then my backpack. With a cafe full of couples and 9 year olds watching, somehow the left strap of the backpack was entangled in my purse strap behind my back -- and I didn't know this until my left arm was already stuck halfway in to the mess. So I am standing in the middle of the restaurant, drink in right hand, left hand trapped behind my back, and I can not figure out what in the world to do about it. My face must have been bright red because I could feel the heat beaming from my cheeks. The only way I could get out of the trap was to go to a table and put everything down and start all over...

The good news is that I have figured out how to allow you, my multitude of readers, to leave comments about my posts. The next challenge is how to add links with additional information about me and the rag tag characters of my life.

Yup, that's me; I'm spasimodo. This is the nickname my dad gave me for being chronically spastic, and it's true. I have been spastic since birth. I drop things, bump in to things, bump my head, fall down, lose things, say the wrong words, make typos and find other ways to create situations in which I have no choice but to laugh at myself. I'm sure you've heard the old saying, "you have to laugh at yourself because you'd cry your eyes out if you didn't." Well, while very little about me is cliche, this one does hold true.

At any rate, I soon hope to leave some very interesting entries here with my musings on my work as a teacher, on writing (not just on a blog), on being thirtyish, on life in North Carolina, on my family, on my pets and whatever else enters my sphere on consciousness. In the meantime, however, I am have a bit of difficulty figuring out how to actually WORK THIS BLOG THING. So yeah -- if you reading this you are probably my mom. But in case you aren't, I hope it will look more attractive and be slightly more interesting in the very near future.

I'll leave you with one current observation. I am sitting at Panera Bread and at the table in front of me is an older couple with their 40 something year old son. They are speaking French. As I listen to them talk I think I have realized something. Maybe so many people think the French are so snobby because when they are speaking their native tongue, it sounds like they are saying "stupid, stupid, stupid, you arrrrrrrrr stuuupeeed."