The Great and Powerful...

well...not James Franco.

Tonight my husband and I saw The Great and Powerful Oz because it has been a while since we've gone to movies and both really wanted to see this. WARNING: This might contain spoilers for anyone who didn't already put a lot of the pieces together just by watching the previews.

I make an effort to never read movie reviews. This practice allows me to enjoy or despise films on my terms. Unfortunately, I scrolled across this review by Chris Vognar in my Twitter feed the other day and had to read on.

I really wish I hadn't read his review mostly because I usually agree with his opinions. And yet, the disappointment in myself for having read this didn't stem from the fact I was hoping he was wrong or dreading he'd be right. Everything he said was ingrained in my system and would be there as I watched the film. My curiosity prejudiced my own opinion before the opening credits.

First and foremost: if you are going to see this movie, cough up the extra dough to see it in 3D. The fact that films feel obligated to provide a 3D version sickens me. Literally. 3D triggers my migraines for some reason, and I am ill for hours after the movie is over. Besides, I believe charging for a pair of glasses that I can't even keep (and are no longer that cool one lens blue/one lens red combo) is more ludicrous than the $11 the theaters get away with charging me for a regular-D ticket. However, there are many images and scenes in this film that were only put in because they would look cool in 3D. I hate that. I prefer 3D to be organic. If the twister had been in 3D? Cool. The witches flying around? Sure. But so many superfluous parts only existed to make me think, "Wow. I bet that's cool in 3D. Too bad 3D gives me a headache."

Second: don't have unreasonable expectations. No part of me thought this would be a groundbreaking film. I had two objectives-figure out how Oz and the witches all fit together PD (that's Pre-Dorothy) and to see pretty colors and scenery. As long as those are the only two things a person has in mind when going to see this film, s/he will not be disappointed.

Third: James Franco will always be James Franco. Good news is he's kind of pretty. (Side note: his little bro Dave is FAR cuter.)

Fourth: Raimi does a descent job incorporating both the original novel and iconic film. So purists will appreciate that.

Fifth: the pacing is sort of awkward. The timeline didn't really seem to jive with me. Really Theodora? You're going to fall for Oz's insincere charm the minute you meet him and then get angry when it turns out he isn't really in love with you? Oh, is it already time for the wicked witch to become the wicked witch of the west? And it's that "easy?" Um okay. I just didn't feel like the characters interacted enough with each other on intimate enough levels to spark such hate/anger/jealousy. By the way IT IS SO OBVIOUS what is going to spur the transformation of the wicked witch of the west. I called it the minute Theodora got excited about being the queen to Oz's king while he just sort of looked at her like, "I just wanted a little somethin' somethin' not an eternal lifetime bond." Sigh.

Sixth: the little nods to the original characters are pretty cool and some not as obvious as others. Annie, Oz's one true love, visits him while he's still in Kansas to let him know she's been asked by John Gale to marry him. Anyone remember Dorothy's last name? Anyone? Anyone? And of course sweet Annie is wearing a Gingham dress. AND Michelle Williams plays both Annie and Glinda (guess who Oz actually falls in love with while in Oz). Viewers also learn why the cowardly lion is cowardly, how the scarecrow probably came about, and why Oz has to pretend to be some monstrosity. Now, I don't recall the Tin Man being tied into this film. I think I might have missed it, but my husband doesn't recall it either.

Seventh: Danny Elfman wrote the musical score. I'm always down with that.

Overall, my husband and I gave the film a "meh." Finley the friendly flying monkey was great (but then again when is Zach Braff NOT great), but other than that I really didn't feel attached to any characters or invested in their heroic journeys. And there were some things still left unanswered that I suppose we are just meant to figure out on our own. No mention of any type of special shoes was included (I know that there is a copyright on the ruby slippers but the novel still had magic shoes).

In the end, I wouldn't say I was disappointed but probably won't see it again until it is on cable and only if nothing else is on to watch.

I DO Believe in Hockey. I DO Believe in Hockey.

I am the girl who fell in love with hockey. A sport that really has no business anywhere where the temperatures go over 50 degrees in the winter. A sport that has been (professionally) in Dallas, Texas for 20 years. My devotion to the Dallas Stars has not wavered over the past two decades. And when my graduating class had to break tradition and hold our ceremony somewhere other than Reunion Arena in 1999 because the Stars were fighting for The Stanley Cup, it was quite all right by me. I even knew I would marry my husband because he had Stars season tickets and treated me to a steak dinner before a game on our first date.

Now, my fanaticism doesn't mean I could spew stats about every player on the team or put together lines based on those stats. However, I believe being able to say "high stick" in french (bâton élevé), explain an off-side call, and sing "O Canada" does lend me at least a little credibility when it comes to discussing the sport. And being a Dallas girl (born and bred) establishes me as a perfect candidate for discussing my team.

So after a painful lockout that knocked away half of the season (I am starting to expect one of these every few years), I decided the Stars organization has gone about the wrong way in marketing the team. Here's what they did and what I would have done:

Everyone knows how pretentious the city of Dallas is. I am okay with that. I like that we have pride in our appearance even if it means we breed $30-thousandairs like rabbits. This also means we are a front runner town. If you don't believe me, think about how many baseball fans suddenly existed when the Rangers made it to the World Series or basketball enthusiasts were cheering on the Mavericks for the Championship. It surprised me how many peopled donned the gear and probably couldn't even tell me the difference between Hamilton and Nowitski. Even now, only the die-hards are still on the Cowboys' bandwagon. Therefore, in this city the Dallas Stars need to be winners.

The organization tried to solve this by paying lots o' dough for a couple of older, more experienced players. Sorry fellas, nothing personal, but ALL sports have a shelf-life and I was immediately leery of a couple of 40-year-olds joining the team. The real mistake was placing so much emphasis on Jaromir Jagr. Is he famous? Of course. Does he seem like a really nice guy? You betcha. However, I am not okay with the Stars' billboard that has an image of Jagr and states "A Legend Becomes a Star." Seriously? We haven't been able to "grow" our own superstar since Modano left? We have to buy one from somewhere else? Immediately, you have injured my Dallas pride. On top of that, he has performed for ONE game. Just one. AND I read today that there could be the possibility he would return to Philadelphia if things don't change. Do we at least get our deposit back?

Some would argue that without a player like Jagr the Stars can't win. Well, see, the funny thing about that is WITH a player like Jagr the Stars still can't win. Perhaps the organization needs to just let go of that pipe dream and call this what it should be: a rebuilding year. By doing so, all pressure to preform well is removed. But of course, that brings me back to the problem of Dallas being a front runner town. If we know the Stars don't plan to win a whole lot, how do you fill the seats?

That's simple: make the team look good. Literally. Dallas likes things to be pretty. The Stars would need to start focusing on handsome-ing up its players and allow those that tend to be more aesthetically pleasing to grace all marketing. Like this guy:

Don't get me wrong. I'm not calling the team a bunch of dogs. After all, the only thing I find more attractive than a man on blades is one who can write computer code; however, the face of an organization is just as important as the performance of that organization (Modano was quite the looker after all AND could get the job done). Once the city is pleased with the look of the Stars, it is time to give Dallas some ownership in the Stars.

Basically, the Stars Organization should let the city enjoy having young players and up-and-comers. Revel in the fact that one day we'll have another Modano or Nieuwendyk or Hull that we "grew" ourselves. Let fans get to know the new boys regularly at casual/accessible events. Make the team a bunch of guys you could sit and have a beer with. Let us enjoy how approachable they are because they are not superstars...yet. This way we might not go to the games necessarily to see a victory but to watch our pals take the ice.

By creating a stronger sense of Stars community, we'll work together to bolster team morale even if the loss column continues to grow. Sure, the Stars might not have a superstar on a rebuilding team, but if the fans believe the organization is trying to work on its "common" touch instead of running with nobility it might expand the fan base by tapping into the hipster movement that tries to avoid the mainstream. That's what should happen! The Stars should focus on not being mainstream. They can be the grass roots of the NHL. They can remind everyone what the love of hockey should be about. It can become a game of personalities on the ice instead of pucks in the net. At that point winning just becomes the icing on the cake.

In the end, I don't promise that my plan is foolproof. I have no background in PR, sports, business, or marketing. Simply put: I am just the girl who fell in love with hockey and the Dallas Stars.

Realigning my North Star

It's fair to say that most of this school year I have questioned my effectiveness in the classroom. Many days I pull into my parking spot and wonder if it is time for me to move on to other districts or even other types of jobs. What makes it really difficult is that teaching is the only thing I've wanted to do my entire life. I've had notions to write novels or set up by own business on Etsy with my sewing. At one point (long before Pixar), I even wanted to be one of the people who colored in the cells for Disney animated films. In the end, I remind myself how teaching just comes so naturally and that for at least one student a year I do make a difference. Yet, the system has a way of beating me so far down I find it almost impossible to recover. And then something happens to help me refocus. This time it was a fortuitous encounter with Peter Reynolds.

Quick background on how this came about: I am a member of the USA Film Festival and receive invitations to numerous events. It was through this organization I was able to meet Dave Goelz (The Great Gonzo), saw a preview of The Help that included a Q & A with Tate Taylor and Octavia Spencer, and am able to screen films before their nationwide release. Every year they hold a Kids Festival that focuses on...well...children. This past weekend one of their events included a collection of films based on Peter Reynolds' books and a book signing following with the man himself. Of course I called immediately to reserve seats for my husband and son (I had other plans and couldn't go but refused to allow my 3-year-old to miss such an opportunity). Moments after I hung up the phone; the lovely, young lady working the festival called me back. She remembered I was a teacher and wondered if I would like to join the other ladies running the festival for dinner with Mr. Reynolds. What fool would say "no thank you?"

Saturday arrived and my son and husband had a blast at the event. William even received his first autographed book!

(Naturally, I am infinitely more excited about this than my son is for now. He was thrilled about his book and put it in the bedtime story rotation, but I have a feeling it will take on more meaning for him as he gets older.)

Dinner quickly approached and I had to remind myself NOT to turn into a 13-year-old fangirl when I finally met Peter Reynolds. Besides, I tried to convince myself, he would be sitting with all the board members who were joining us. I probably would introduce myself, get a picture, and that would be it. My nerves weren't buyin' it, so I ordered a Maracas margarita when we arrived at the restaurant (a decision I'm pretty sure I'm STILL recovering from). Then the craziest thing happened: the film festival ladies allowed me to sit DIRECTLY ACROSS FROM PETER REYNOLDS. I had no choice BUT to speak with him all evening! Talk about pressure. I would have to be clever while slightly intoxicated. (Fortunately, my loving husband is great under that kind of pressure and helped a lot with the conversation.)

Taking pride in my loquacity (a real word-I promise) makes it difficult for me to admit that I cannot properly explain how meeting Peter Reynolds impacted my outlook on the rest of this school year and my career. Everyone needs to get a hold of his books. The three that tend to trend together are: The Dot, Ish, and The North Star. Peter Reynolds is the very person you expect to be the author of these true treasures. He reminded me that I don't teach for kids to pass a test nor do I have to listen to those whose minds are too narrow to appreciate the potential in my students. Did I already know these things? Sure. Have I let them slip away a bit? Yes. Something about the encouragement from someone not tied up in the political gunk of education helped shake off the dust of apathy that can really skew my optimism. It also reminded me that my students aren't the only ones who depend on me. So many adults had teachers who refused to let a broken system dictate success, and I must remain one of those teachers. And as crazy as it sounds, Peter Reynolds' absolute faith that I do right by my students simply based on how I presented myself at dinner caused me to realize if I quit doing what I know is best for my students, and if I lowered my standards to appease the politicians, then I would lose my true self and the passion for what I do.

As if aiding in the realization of one of my New Year's resolutions (#3 I believe) wasn't enough, Peter Reynolds began following me on Twitter AND wants to keep in touch! He will return in March for Arts and Letters Live at the DMA, and I will be there.

Every Prom Needs a Little Duk Dong

There is an adorable teen film called Prom. It has most of what you expect: sort of nerds, cool kids, a bad boy, a superstar academic, love triangles, opposite attractions, etc. And every time it comes on cable I MUST watch it. My husband simply rolls his eyes and shakes his head at my inability to turn away from such a ridiculous film. It took me a while to figure out why it was the bug zapping light to my hopeless flying insect of a psyche. Then one day it hit me...

IT'S ALMOST A PERFECT JOHN HUGHES MOVIE!

Note that I said "almost." It teases by dipping its toe in that genre of cinematic gold. Take a peek at this cute promo that came out during the apparent countdown they had before the film's release.

Potential right? All the necessary characters are there and had I seen this before I saw the actual film a lot of plot holes would be non-existent.  The problem is that even though this film does its best to fulfill all necessary archetypes for a teen flick, it doesn't offer any realistic commentary of teenagers today. Nor does it offend me in a comical way while still managing to comment on some societal mindset.

The reason I have ALWAYS loved teen films of the 80s is because that is exactly what they did. Teenagers were teenagers. Partying. Bullying. Studying. Dating. Loving. Hating. Judging. And they managed to do all of this and still get in a few laughs. I mean, where would Sixteen Candles be without this guy:





How hilarious are these? I guess teenage boys are looking to score regardless of country of origin. Plus, the grandparents are proudly (and maybe cluelessly) exploiting Dong's academic trip to America. I love it! Prom really does try. There are so many nods to some of Hughes' greats such as a running scene through the high school, rendezvous in a parking lot, a lecherous/unfaithful boyfriend with the insecure girlfriend who needs to become her own person, even the bad boy falling for the good girl:

 

Unfortunately, nothing in the film measures up to this:



I so desperately want Prom to be Sixteen Candles or The Breakfast Club! The real problem is that Disney has its name all over the film so it has to stay clean and too sugary sweet to meet its true destiny of becoming a memorable movie that defines a generation. Perhaps that is why I watch Prom every time it comes on. Surely just once it will reach Hughes Greatness! Just once instead of this:
I'll get this:

11 pipers piping...

That's right, it is the 11th day of Christmas, and for the first time EVER I broke my own rule of taking down the tree and decorations before the Epiphany. I feel a little guilty because taking everything down Sunday would have taken the same amount of time as taking them down today, but I wanted to get it done quickly without the interruption of either of my children. Poor excuse for breaking tradition and something I truly believe in, but it is done so no more lamenting about it.

The reason I always wait until the Epiphany is because that is when the Christmas season actually ends. Even if someone is just celebrating the secular concept of Christmas, CHRISTmas came from a religious background so why not celebrate the entire season accordingly? Besides, everyone keeps whining about how depressing the day after Christmas is and how s/he doesn't want to take down decorations quite yet. If people just acknowledged Christmastide/Twelvetide, we could gradually say good-bye to the Christmas season until next year. Every day could just slightly take us out of Christmas into New Years and finally back on schedule.Then ending all the buildup wouldn't feel so jolting when the day actually comes and goes.

Think about how much cooler the season would be if we had 12 actual gifts to give on each day of Christmas? Or better yet, if we dedicated the 12 Days of Christmas to giving back in some way. The bottom line is I'm sick and tired of the complaining about Christmas having no meaning or being too commercial or ending too quickly. It really shouldn't stop on the 26th of December but rather continue on into the 6th of January. It might just matter more if we did it right.

Resolutions are for the birds...

but I'll make a few anyway.

Fortunately, I've been going to the gym since my doctor released me after having my baby last summer. My routine is established and desired weight is being lost/maintained. Therefore, I don't have to join a gym for $1 only to quit going by the middle of February (or sooner). Of course, my gym time will be irritatingly altered by all the folks who are adding gym time to their schedule for the next few weeks just until their dedication wanes and they cancel their memberships until January 2014. So no resolution to get into shape or exercise more.

Eating more healthily...um...I can only make this a resolution if having a bowl of Peanut Butter Crunch before going to bed is considered healthy eating.

As for money matters: I like to spend it and not save it. Yep that about sums it up.

Okay, so what does that leave me?

Well, I have decided to keep my house what I call "guest ready." This simply means that regardless of day or hour if someone were to stop by for any reason I would not be embarrassed by the state of my home. This will really be tested once I return to work because some evenings those few dishes in the sink seem insurmountable when compared to my exhaustion after working all day. However, I plan to make sure the beds are made everyday, keep the sink empty of dishes, and have my son put all his toys away before going to bed. Doing these three things will keep my house tidy enough between Merry Maid cleanings.

I desperately need to get back to my writing. It doesn't matter to me if people read it. Writing just makes me feel productive. My fingers assertively patting the keys while my brain filters through all my vocabulary and useless knowledge trying to find a way to organize my thoughts about, well, everything. My goal will be at least one post a week. On days I'm feeling particularly creative I might even write a couple of posts and schedule them ahead of time. There's also the matter of my book. Yes, I would LOVE to publish a book and yes, I've had numerous ideas and starts that never went anywhere. This is my year! I just need to decided how I want to pace myself to get it all done.

Finally, at work I really sort have been in a funk. I still believe that teaching is the only thing I ever want to do. Unfortunately, I teach public school in a state with a crap system that keeps becoming crappier. The minute my negativity begins to bleed into my work my students will know. I need to focus on at least three positives a day even if it requires me going through my Smile File to remember why I go in every day. I actually reread something from Marcus Aurelius' Meditations that I plan to really focus on:

"When, in the early morning, you are reluctant to get up, have this thought in mind: 'I rise to do a man's work. Am I still resentful as I go to do the task for which I was born and for the sake of which I was brought into the world? Was I made to warm myself under the blankets?' 'But this is more pleasant.' Were you born for pleasure, to feel things, and not do them?...You do not love yourself. If you did, you would certainly love your own nature and its purpose."

I know I'm meant to teach. I will just pray that I either find happiness again in my current position or find a job that allows me to use my skills to teach in some other capacity.

That should do it for 2013. 

Riddikulus!

If you instinctively assumed I must be battling a wicked Boggart, we are meant to be friends. I wish it was a Boggart that had me casting such a spell.

One of the biggest bummers in my life is that I was born a Muggle (which I don't find too terrible if that's my biggest bummer). If only Rowling's world of witchcraft and wizardry was real and I had been born in the lovely British Isles, I believe I would have had a good chance of the magic quill jotting my name in the big book of baby wizards when I was born. (Random fact: Harry Potter was born in 1980, so we're the same age.) All of this is simply to convey my adoration for the entire book series. I read the entire set of books at least once a year and always discover something new or that I had forgotten.

Even though I find the books 100 times greater than the films, the movies also captivate my attention. They are a great way to keep the story fresh in my mind between readings. Besides, I really enjoy casting characters and creating scenes that aren't in the film versions that I believe should be.

Another reason I enjoy the films is for all the extra stuff like deleted scenes. Actually, that's one of my quirks. I get a kick out of bonus material. Seriously. I like hearing the director's thoughts and learning about costuming and set design, etc. So after the final installment of the Harry Potter films showed in theaters, I vowed to own all eight films on Blu-Ray with as much bonus footage as possible. I knew it would be costly but didn't care. The real problem was waiting for such a thing to exist.

Two weeks ago it happened.

While looking through my inbox I spotted one of the usual promotional e-mails from Warner Brothers. They were going to pre-sale the Harry Potter Wizard's Collection (what I will call a Wizard's Box)! It would contain all eight films in Blu-Ray, DVD, and digital formats! Not to mention 40+ hours of BONUS MATERIAL including the series Creating the World of Harry Potter which I have been trying to purchase for about a year. There was also mentioned something about HP memorabilia, but I didn't pay too much attention because I was finally going to get the movies with all the extras I had so long anticipated. Even better was the fact that they were offering this $500 treasure for a measly $350 because I am special.

It was ordered.

Oddly enough once it shipped, the UPS information said the package weighed 26.50 pounds. I figured this had to be a mistake. Eight discs and a couple of HP trinkets probably weighed 2-3 pounds and UPS had screwed up. See, I had envisioned this Wizard's Box being relative small. It would nicely and neatly hold the 8 or so discs in one small block like my Lord of the Rings Trilogy and Star Wars. I even removed my DVD copies of each individual movie to leave a block of space for this average sized box. It was going to slide in comfortably next to my John Hughes boxed set.

Three days ago the package arrived. I came downstairs to find a rather large box in the living room. My response was simply, "I didn't order an actual wizard!" Well, I opened the first box to find a slightly smaller (but not much) box. I opened that box to find the Harry Potter Wizard's Collection packaging not much smaller than the previous two boxes. It was at this point I realized I probably should have paid closer attention to the description on the Warner Brother's site.

When all was said and done, this is what I had purchased:

Not only is the box actually about a foot and a half cubed, but the "trinkets" I expected are certified maps, sketches, photos, and even jewelry inspired by the films. These things are even hidden in various compartments of the box. Obviously, this Wizard's Box was more an Engorgio spell gone horribly wrong. There's no way it will fit on my movie shelves, and although it comes with a Certificate of Authenticity, I now feel like that person. The one who names her kids after the characters or refers to Rowling as Jo. (I'm NOT that person. I just feel like it.)

I suppose as "riddikulus" as my Wizard's Box is, I should take solace in the fact that I'm still a far cry from this guy:

Takin' Care of Business

Tomorrow morning will be the first day of teacher in-service that I have not attended in eight years. Without fail, the end of August heralds in another academic year for me, and I readily anticipate it with my own new school supplies and ideas for my students. However, I have a newborn who is not yet a month old. Therefore, I will be sitting out the entire first six weeks of the school year. And as I think about all that I'd like to do in my classroom and with my lessons, my emotions are getting the better of me. 

It's tough because I wouldn't want people to think I don't love my own children. I have two beautiful boys:

Being able to hang out with my 3-year-old this summer before the baby was born made for great memories. Since the baby arrived, I have equally enjoyed the cuddling and loving that a baby requires to be happy. There is no doubt that I love being a mom especially since my children totally rock.

It's just very few people are blessed with jobs that they love. I AM TEACHING. Everything about it fits my personality. It is also a great feeling that in a small way I am changing the future. There are so many minds to open and enlighten. Not to mention how much I learn from the students who walk into my class. In the past eight years I have influenced and been influenced by roughly 1200 students. That's only counting the ones I have directly taught.

So tomorrow morning when my alarm doesn't go off but I wake up at 6 o'clock anyway to feed my baby, I will probably fight back tears because I know that the academic world will continue to spin without me.

Mad About Hatters

Oddly enough I am not a fan of the actual stories Alice in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass. I have tried to enjoy it every time I force myself to read them. I just can't do it. The writing feels flat and gets incredibly boring incredibly quickly. What I do LOVE are all the interpretations of Alice's adventures. In actuality, most people are interpreting the animated Disney version which is far more entertaining than reading the stories. A couple of my favorites are Tim Burton's version from 2010 and the Frank Beddor Looking Glass Wars book series.

In all honesty, there was a 100% chance I was going to like Burton's Alice because Tim Burton is pure genius especially when he teams up with Johnny Depp and Danny Elfman. I was right. The idea that Burton brings Alice back to Wonderland to fulfill a prophesy based off of Carroll's poem "Jaberwocky" is a unique way to pay homage to both the stories and Disney's animated version of them.

With Beddor's book series he explores the possibility that not only are Alice's adventures real, but she is our salvation from her evil aunt who goes between Wonderland and our world meddling with dark and dangerous things. It it young adult fiction, so it didn't take me long to read the books which I greatly appreciate since I'm a working mom with a newborn.

The other day I was channel surfing and caught the last 30 minutes of a show on the Syfy channel, and within that half hour I realized it was another version of the Alice story. I immediately looked into it, and thanks to instant streaming on Netflix was able to watch the two part mini-series Alice. (Actually, I've watched it multiple times because I like it so much. I'm sure my husband is sick of seeing it on the television.) The version Syfy created was actually quite clever. It also had some big names like Kathy Bates, Tim Curry, and Colm Meaney. But the best part was that I met him...

Okay, that's a goofy wallpaper that I will probably put on my laptop. Here is a better shot of the British actor Andrew-Lee Potts...

What can I say? His version of Hatter is great and I had to know what else he had starred in. So I did what anyone with too much time on her hands during summer break would do: I searched for info on him instead of working on lesson plans for next year.

Do I now follow him on Twitter? Why yes I do. Did I watch interviews of him on YouTube? Why yes I did. Did I then begin watching the show Primeval on Netflix because he is a main character? Of course. And that has caused a whole other problem/blog post.

For now I will continue to follow Mr. Potts' career like a good little fanatic.

Humility Should Remain in My Bag of Tricks

My son is three and beginning to really push his boundaries. There are moments when I'm not sure his actions are that of a learning child and need to be corrected in a patient way or if he's just being a little pain and choosing to misbehave in which case discipline is necessary. So when days roll around where things are consistently going well, I tend to get too comfortable in my abilities to parent flawlessly.
Today's scheduled started off at a birthday party. I already had the swimming gear packed since the invite said there would be a pool available for the kids. Ten points to me. We were the first family to arrive, so my son was able to hang with the birthday girl for a little bit before being bombarded by six or seven other children. Another ten points since my son tends to act shy if too many kids are around causing a ruckus. No fights with other children. No incidents requiring medical attention. No accidents in the swim trunks. Let's just hand over another 50 points because it was an incredibly successful party experience:

After a rather successful nap (there's another set of points), we headed to the opening of a new, local library. The goal: getting my son his first library card. Again, objective achieved:

And since I'm promoting literacy with my kid, I was feeling like the best mom on the face of the planet. I actually even believed I was being rewarded for all the awesome parenting I was doing when my husband and son were interviewed for the local news station regarding the library. (I'd like to put the link in to the video if I ever find it.) That's right. I was all sorts of patting myself on the back. I had even intended taking pics of my son using his card to check out his books.

It was at this moment of smug satisfaction that I totally nailed down this parenting thing that my son walked up to me with the front of his shorts drenched in pee. Yep, the gods don't like hubris my friends. My child was so excited and distracted with all the festivity at the library that his bladder rebelled and we had our first public accident. That ended our library visit, we were about to leave anyway, and caused a new problem: how NOT to get urine all over my husband's new car's seats in order to get home.

Many people might ask why I didn't keep a change of clothes with me, and up until VERY recently I always had. This time I was convinced I had this parenting thing down, and my instinct told me extra clothes were not necessary for our quick trip to the new library.

Even though I still consider today a large success and tons of fun, lesson learned.

Ever the Optimist

I often respond to "Sounding Off" in our local newspaper regarding the topic of education. This was the most current prompt:

Tell us about something new your school did this year that worked. Where can your school build on some momentum and success from this year? What did your children learn this year that surprised you? What did you see on campus that gives you hope?

At first I wasn't going to respond, but ended up sending this in. It far exceeds the maximum word limit and will probably not be printed. So I decided to post it here, and if it ends up being printed then great!

Many people ask if I enjoy teaching, and my response is always, “I cannot imagine doing anything else and wouldn’t want to.” However, this year truly tested my mettle because I had 10 and 11 graders preparing for TAKS (as usual), 9 graders gearing up for STAAR, and advanced 11 graders taking AP Language at the end of the year. That tripled the normal stress load of standardized testing I normally endure in a school year. Therefore, when asked what my students learned that surprised me or gave me hope I almost cried because it was so difficult to see the silver lining through a rather difficult year. Then I remembered that my own philosophy is not to teach kids how to pass a test but how to become functioning members of society by building critical reading, writing, and thinking skills. That led me to my end of the year exams.

Instead of a cumulative, multiple choice test of 100 questions requiring the students to conjure up names of characters throughout the school year, I simply ask them to choose one thing we read, discussed, thought about or experienced during the year and tell me how it shaped them as an individual. The kids think they’re getting off with an easy exam but fail to realize how much thinking is actually going into their essays especially since I only allow them one sheet of notebook paper to write it. Here are some of my favorite responses:

An on-level student who learned the hard way I do enforce my no late work policy: “One of the things I learned this year was how to respect my grade in this class. Mrs. X didn’t beg us to turn something in, if we didn’t turn it in we got a zero. Knowing this it helped me think about my responsibility as a student to know a deadline and meet it.”

A gifted and talented student regarding Fahrenheit 451 in comparison to The Things They Carried and the many controversies over the Vietnam War: “…I felt an overwhelming and conflicting argument spring up in my head over censorship. I couldn’t fathom the thought of our free nation tainted with absolutism philosophy…”

A monitored English Language Learner discussing To Kill a Mockingbird particularly looking at the courtroom chapters: “…what I learn here was that we should speak with the truth. Because the truth is going to come out in any moment and time.”

A special education student: “My favorite was Machiavelli. I love how it shows you rules about being a leader and who you should trust and shouldn’t.” (We compared “Morals of a Prince” to Julius Caesar in terms of what kind of leader Caesar might have been and whether or not that merited his assassination. This particular student was also one of the few who was able to fly through Shakespeare without difficulty.)

Just like most public school teachers, I simply had to grab a few essays to see this wide range of topics and learning levels. Overall, I see tremendous hope just within these responses. These are the lessons that go with my students when they leave my room, and I much prefer this to be my legacy than having that allusive 100% pass rate on any standardized test.

Did somebody say BANANAS?

As a parent of a young child, I figured I would be subjected to many a ridiculous kids' show that involved overacting and quaint story lines teaching perfunctory moral lessons. However, when my son fell in love with The Fresh Beat Band I had hoped their focus on music would make the show bearable. (I do have to give them credit for encouraging the love of music that my husband and I try to instill in our son.) Attempting to enjoy the show turned out to be more of an obstacle than I thought. The production was a little less than okay, and the characters were borderline caricature and down right irritating.

Why did I continue to watch? It's almost like rubber necking on the highway. I know I shouldn't do it, but enough ambulances and cop cars and I just can't help myself. Since my son was going to watch the show regardless, I forced myself to sit patiently and endure. Then something happened.

It started simply as an ad for the new season when my husband noticed the change from Shayna Rose to Tara Perry, "Hey, that's not the same Marina!" (Was it a little disturbing that my husband realized and my son didn't? Yes.)  After that we watched as the production for the show seemed more professional and the story lines more entertaining. It was like someone decided that good parents would be watching what their kids watched and needed something more than a bunch of drumming monkeys (seriously, little toy monkeys that were a staple for a lot of the first couple of seasons). I actually started looking forward to the new episodes.

One of my favorite musical numbers from the new season:

THEN The Fresh Beats did something absolutely crazy: they went on a live concert tour. We decided that The Fresh Beats would be a great first concert for our son. I figured the idea that the 3 to 7-year-old target audience would make it easier to wrangle my son during the show. Tickets were purchased and we started the countdown. Yesterday was the big day.

I wasn't exactly sure what to expect. The good news was that with hundreds of children in attendance, I didn't have to be self-conscious about my son wanting to run around in the lobby or making noise during the show or having to get up to go to the bathroom multiple times because EVERYONE'S kids were doing the same thing.

It's when The Fresh Beats took the stage that I realized why parents will trudge through silly kids' shows for their children. When the REAL Fresh Beats (I applaud them for touring themselves and not having "actors" portray them on tour.) came out and started to play, my son stomped his feet, shook his hands, giggled, screamed, and had a smile on his face that was priceless. If he had been on the floor instead of standing up, someone might have mistaken his spazzing out for a seizure. All I could think at that moment was, "Yeah, this is TOTALLY worth it."

There were plenty of over zealous parents dragging their children around dressed as members of the band trying to get them to dance in the aisles. I was content to watch my son's attention focus only on what was happening on stage. There were some tears shed when he realized that our seats were too far away from the stage and he couldn't dance closer to the band, but overall he seemed to enjoy his first concert experience. My husband even got him an official multi-color Fresh Beat glow stick! (20 years from now I'm going to enjoy taking that out and telling this story.)

By the end of the day, we were all exhausted in a very content way. And yet, I couldn't get this blasted song out of my head for the rest of the evening (no, that's not my husband talking in the background-I found this particular recording on YouTube):

May the 4th Be With You!

And with that I welcome Star Wars Day 2012! I'm not exactly sure when my love affair with Star Wars began. What I do remember is being 12-years-old and watching A New Hope on television one weekend (we didn't own the VHS tape). My mother noticed my rapt attention and said, "You have always loved that movie, even when you were little. You know there's two more movies that go with it?" At that moment my world shifted and within the half hour we had been to Blockbuster and returned with Empire Strikes Back and Return of the Jedi. Life after that was never the same.

Unfortunately, I wasn't born early enough to appreciate the original releases in theaters when they were cutting edge and cool. Therefore, I felt alone in my geek love for the Republic and, at first, Luke Skywalker (naturally as I got older Han Solo became the only man worth admiring in a galaxy far, far away). None of my friends seemed interested in these films if they had heard of them at all. I know very few of my crowd were as eager to see the re-releases as I during my high school years. And it seemed like no one I knew felt or understood the crushing disappointment of The Phantom Menace.

Now, I have found my niche! It seems as if all the nerds and geeks who spent years immersed in Star Wars lore are the popular guys. Some of my favorite actors/comedians proudly voice their admiration for the original trilogy (and their dismay at the newer episodes). It's like an alternate world of cool has sprung from all the folks who love Obi Wan and Yoda and Chewy and Leia, etc. It doesn't bother me that the few people left on the planet who refuse to acknowledge the greatness of Star Wars still tease me because I KNOW I am not alone.

I am determined that my own children will proudly fly their Star Wars colors. My 3-year-old already owns toy light sabres and can declare himself Master Yoda. And if I don't talk to my kid about Star Wars, what will he learn on the street?



Since tomorrow is the official Star Wars day; my husband, son, and I have shirts ready to go. But like many Star Wars fans I know, I never take my fanaticism too seriously. So, I will end with a video that makes me laugh every time, and I will never forget: "There's only one return my friend, and it's not of the king, it's of the Jedi." Randall Clerks II

3 is the Magic Number

My son will be 3 years old tomorrow. Considering the circumstances of his birth, that is a true miracle. However, what is marking this particular birthday in a unique way is that it will be last one where he is an only child. I'm due in August; therefore, every birthday my boy has from here on out will include his little brother. Becoming an older sibling will change my son (I hope in all the right ways) and our parenting tactics. In honor of my last year as the mother of an only child, I'd like to reflect on what parenting has taught me.

Babies cry. There's no way to avoid it. The idea that I would have to run and pick up my son every single time he made a peep is ridiculous. When would I ever get a break? And what am I teaching my child? In the end, he would simply train me to cater to his whim instead of me training him to be a little judicious when he chooses to cry. Not that my husband and I were cruel. 10-20 minutes is what we would wait to see if our son quit crying. I know that can seem like an eternity with the noise level some kids reach, but 9 times out of 10 our boy was silent after 5 minutes. He learned that there are times he had to go to sleep and there are times mommy and daddy are busy around the house, so he had to entertain himself. The benefit to this was that when he did continue to cry, we knew something was genuinely wrong and were able to help him. In a small way, I also think this helped make him a bit more sociable because he didn't expect us to coddle him in new surroundings or with new people.

Cribs are where babies sleep and the master bed is where I sleep. My son has slept in bed with my husband and me TWICE in his three years on this planet. And both those times he was very sick. As a baby, I always made sure my son slept in his crib. I wanted him to understand that we each have our own space to relax and get rest, and it has worked. To this day my son prefers to sleep in his "big boy bed" rather than in our bed. He might hop in bed with us to watch television, but as soon as it's time to sleep he says his good nights and heads to his room. When he does ask to sleep with us we remind him that he has to start in his bed and if he is still awake when we check on him, he can come to bed with us. Every time he is either asleep when we check on him OR he tells us he wants to stay in his bed. Transitioning from crib to bed was a breeze, and we don't have to "trap" him in his room to make him sleep in his own bed.

There's a full serving of vegetables in a can of Manwich. I did choose to breast feed my son. It had nothing to do with any type of moral high ground. I just thought it was cool that I could provide for my kid in a way no one else could (of course the BEST part was seeing a dear friend's face when she opened the freezer looking for something). Never do I judge the mother who chooses not to breast feed. I read somewhere once that "breast is best but formula isn't poison." Absolutely true. Besides, some women discover that breast feeding isn't an option for them due to physical limitations or sickness, and what message would that send if I sneered at them and said something caddy like, "But wouldn't you want the best for your child?" (Yes someone actually said that to me once.) This just launches into my son's current diet. Should his meals properly represent the entire food pyramid? Probably. Do they always? Nope. Do I feel guilty about his? Puh-leeze. I promise my son gets what he needs even if it isn't organic. He's pretty good about eating anything we put in front of him (except pork-he always asks for "real" meat when we try to feed him pork), so I don't worry about much else.

Kids get dirty. One of the first mottos I adopted after the birth of my son was "everything's washable...even me." To expect a kid to stay clean is like expecting a baby not to cry. It will only lead to insanity. I once watched a mother clean her kid's hands after every bite the little girl took while eating. Wow. Is that child ever going to be allowed outside to play? If I'm not scrubbing dirt off my kid at the end of the day, then I'm doing something wrong. Kids need to explore the world around them. Including the messy stuff. As for germ regulation, I never really was too concerned mostly because I figured a tougher immune system wouldn't hurt. I was right. My kid only gets sick once a year.

Be grateful for a healthy, happy child. There are some moms who seem to WANT something to be wrong with their child. They actually look for symptoms and get angry when no one else finds anything there. Why can't we just be content with our children? In actuality there should probably be a delay of some sort in my son because he was so premature; however, I fight very hard to keep people from knowing about his early entrance into the world because I don't want it to become a crutch. I've taught kids with legitimate needs, and my son does not have any special circumstances. It would embarrass me greatly if he tried to blame irresponsibility or a poor choice on the 11 week "developmental delay" he supposedly had the first year and a half of his life.

There isn't one right way to parent a child. I don't believe in reading books on parenting because they just make me mad. All I've seen them do is turn perfectly normal people into complete parenting lunatics. These expert books just create paranoia about meeting milestones and second guessing decisions regarding the kid's best interest. Who needs that? I keep one book. It is the American Academy of Pediatrics resource guide for kids birth to five years. I like it because if I have a question, I just look up the age range of my son and what should be going on with him. It usually goes something like this: "Your kid should be doing blah-dee-blah, but he's probably doing this-that-the other. He's fine." Since it is put together by the AAP, I know I can trust these experts and I never feel like a parenting fail after I read it.

I'm sure there is a ton more I could say especially since I am a working mom (another great sin according to some). It all comes down to the fact my son is loving, friendly, happy, and entertaining. As long as this is true, I know I'm going in the right direction with this parenting thing. I've thoroughly enjoyed these first three years and await the adventures two bright boys will bring.

The Not-So-Hunger Games

First-The Hunger Games is a fine movie. It isn't the disaster that Twilight is, and it wasn't horribly made. It is nice knowing that Suzanne Collins helped with the screenplay. This post isn't going to totally blast it out of the water, so if you are insisting that it was the best movie you've ever seen, just hear me out before you shoot an arrow through this post.

Being a high school English teacher means I've read the books multiple times and love them. However, I like to think I have realistic expectations when books are transferred to film. Therefore, I approached the movie theater with cautious excitement. I also had the benefit of seeing this film with my husband who has yet to (and probably won't) read the books. That brought an interesting perspective that actually reinforced my own.

The main issue with the film is that the movie makers assumed that everyone seeing it has read the books. I get that a majority of people have, but that doesn't mean it is a good idea to leave out significant character development or symbols.

Looking at character development first, I realize that there are quite a few characters throughout the book and eliminating some of them is necessary if the movie is to stay under five hours long. I can live with no Madge and barely glimpsing at the prep team. What I cannot live with is the lack of relationship development between Katniss and Rue and the underdevelopment of Haymitch. Like my husband said, "Why do I care that Rue dies?" I know why he should care because it broke my heart when I read it in the book. As a first time watcher though, it just seems like Katniss and Rue ate a quick meal together and then there's a riot in District 11? Hmmm...there's a gap there.

What did they do to Haymitch, glorious Haymitch? Although well played by Woody Harrelson, the depth of that character is revealed so much through his relationship with Katniss in the book but not in the movie. He may be her greatest antagonist, but they understand each other on a whole other level. I can't even put into words my disappointment in the non-relationship between Cinna and Katniss. I adore Cinna, but it's hard to feel that way about a character who shows up for three minutes in the film.

Then there's Peeta's stalker response of how he watched Katniss walk home every day. Uh, okay creeper. I LOVE PEETA! I fell for that boy the very first time I read the book (Gale is a child killing jerk). Peeta's innocent love that builds in the cave that Katniss has to pretend to reciprocate makes my heart ache when he realizes at the end that it is all a show for her. Not to mention that not having Katniss narrate this story leaves out all the conflict she truly feels about killing Peeta and then the betrayal when she sees him with the Career Tributes. These are the kind of details that make the story worth telling but are left out of the film.

Need I mention they completely neglect to explain the significance of the Mockingyjay?! How do you let that go Suzanne? 

 The cinematography is definitely something to note. The costuming and set design is phenomenal. Yet, I really wanted someone to invest in a damn tripod. I get the rough, hand-held camera bit at the cornucopia so that the violence feels more chaotic and you can't really see it happening. But to keep using that method while running through the woods or just standing still mostly gave me a headache.

In the end I decided the book is a quicker read than the first half of the film. And even though the movie started to pick up and get really good towards the end, the absence of a lot of detail and character development leaves The Hunger Games lacking. Will I own it? Probably. Will I see Catching Fire? Of course. No matter where the movie makers failed, one thing's for certain: Jennifer Lawrence is one hell of an actress!

Big Brother Isn't Interested, I Promise

My absence in posting is credited to a number of things. For starters, November through January had me in the first trimester of my second pregnancy. The exhaustion alone was a beat down not to mention the nausea and hormone insanity. Then there was my deep contemplation of the purpose in bothering to post on social media sites because my life isn't that fascinating and I know how irritating the "over-share" has become with regards to Facebook, Twitter, and some blogs. Finally, I had to determine if I actually had anything worth posting. There are far more entertaining bloggers out there (KHam and Grouchy Muffin being two of my favorites). Then a friend of mine on Facebook declared his desire to leave the site because of the useless postings made by thousands daily.

As it is many people, including my mother, refuse to embrace Facebook because they believe if I was truly interested in my "friends'" lives, I would pick up the phone and call. The reality is that life happens and most of the time I simply cannot spare the 10-15 minutes for the a phone call that could have the potential to become an hour long. I'd rather check in on my close friends' pages, and when we finally find time to meet up, we can take all the time we want to chat in person about the goings-on we've either posted about or have happened since the last time we met. 

All the things I love about Facebook are quickly being outweighed by the things I find the most annoying. For starters, I am determined to keep my friends under 300 which I still find to be a number too large to call them all "friends." Therefore, knowing some people have 1, 000+ friends is one of the most ridiculous things I've heard. There is no way one person has an interest in that many people. It is a shallow statement of how friendship is now regarded. (And an accelerated path to digital voyeurism that's been affectionately labeled "Facebook stalking.") Next is the information being shared by my friends that is beginning to become inappropriate.

Facebook isn't the place to unleash an uneducated/unresearched political opinion. Just because a video exists on YouTube doesn't mean it needs to also go viral on Facebook (think recent Kony2012 nonsense). Also, the annoyingly long posts proclaiming that if I love my husband/brother/son/mother/soldier/Christ I will repost are out of control. Really? Not reposting means I have no care or concern for these people? How absurd.

Then there is the disturbingly candid looks into the more intimate parts of peoples' lives. I was one of them. When I finally became pregnant with my son, William, I did it all. I posted the news to Facebook with a picture of my first sonogram containing my son's eerily alien-like profile. I am sure I even updated my condition during the pregnancy more than many of my "friends" deemed necessary. Even now, I see so many posts that expose those parts of life that really have no business being permanently (nothing EVER leaves cyberspace) shared like the amount or color of bodily fluids exiting someone's child while ill or a quick poll about the best type of birth control for a relationship or a person's own personal battle with unidentified body oddities (I itch just thinking about it). To me, there are just some things that I don't need to learn about while simply scrolling through daily posts. How is it these people are so comfortable about sharing such personal problems?

All of this is what led me to keeping my posts shut about my newest pregnancy. I am overjoyed that I am even able to get pregnant a second time, but this time I wanted to keep this to me. This is MY pregnancy. It doesn't belong to people who check in on me once a month. I also wanted to give Baby Ben some of his own privacy rather than upload his first "picture" like I had his brother. I actually did call/text/e-mail my family about the news and allowed that grapevine to circulate before really talking about it openly. I wanted this to be truly joyous news and not more noise in the Facebook over-share chaos.

I am hoping this is more the direction people choose to take with Facebook. I love seeing pictures of families (especially kids) growing and changing. I do enjoy witty posts from some of my more entertaining friends. I have also invested so much time into maintaining a Facebook that people CAN and WANT to check that I shudder at the thought of deleting it all. (Maybe I should give that Google+ thing a try?)

All Things Felty

It's not that my life has been dull for the past two months (Fair Day, my birthday, on-going sewing adventures, etc.),  I have just been too distracted to actually sit down and write. Now, I cannot let the incredible experience of The Muppets, Jason Segel's revival of a beloved institution, pass by without commenting on it.

To say I love all things Jim Henson is such an understatement that I'm not sure there is a word that adequately describes my passion. Therefore, I always approach a new Muppet project with a skeptical eye. (Actually, I'm more disappointed that Disney fought so hard to acquire the Muppets and then essentially did nothing with them.) Enter Jason Segel and his own adoration for the Muppets. I have been anticipating this movie for at least a year when I first heard buzz that it was in the works.

The beauty behind the film is that the Muppets have fallen into obscurity and need to get back together. We get to see what happened to all our beloved faves once the world began to spin in technological circles. CGI has invaded our brains and many children no longer appreciate the skill and wonder in making a puppet ride a bicycle. How would this adventure fare?

We arrived in plenty of time for our midnight showing which was sold out:)! We got the best seats in the house and settled in for good ole fashioned chuckles. I was not disappointed! Segel knew exactly how to bring the Muppets back in a big way. 

The jokes were perfect! My favorite scene involved Jack Black, "Smells Like Teen Spirit," Beaker, and an axe. That was followed closely by a cameo from Jim Parsons, a chicken rendition of C-Lo Green's "F*** You," and traveling by map.  It seemed simple enough in concept, but so much more sophisticated when I thought about all the past Muppet humor that brought out the "ha-has." For instance, the Muppets stopping Charles Grodin from nabbing the infamous Baseball Diamond and a ball game breaking out (The Great Muppet Caper). Hilarious! Or Fozzie declaring, "I don't know how to thank you guys" and Kermit responding "I don't know why to thank you guys" after the Electric Mayhem "camouflages" a Studebaker to protect the travelers from Doc Hopper (The Muppet Movie).

There were also moments when The Muppets made mention of the fact they were making a movie (Fozzie commenting on the cost of the explosion of Gonzo's plumbing business) that matched a scene from The Great Muppet Caper where Lady Holiday (Diana Rigg) begins a long rant about her worthless brother Nicky and when asked why she does this says, "It's plot exposition. It has to go somewhere." Genius! Even the villain, Tex Richman, was on par with Doc Hopper when it came to his nasty-not-niceness. It was like Segel took all that was brilliant and good about the Muppets and gave those of us continuing to praise the vision of Henson an early Christmas present! (I am currently putting together a Thank You/fan letter to Segel.)

Some of my friends argued that they took their kids and were not impressed. First problem: THE MUPPETS WERE NEVER MEANT FOR CHILDREN. Henson, at one point, was even dismayed that so many people only associated him with Sesame Street which hindered his more complex comedic side he tried to showcase during the first season of SNL and throughout The Muppet Show. He fully intended to create a variety show with his Muppets that focused on humor for adults. That's more proof of the master creator Henson was because the older I get, the funnier the Muppets are. Sure my two-year-old loves Sesame Street and Kermit's banjo playing, but he won't truly appreciate the ingenuity behind the jokes until he is old. However, I believe you must train them when they are young. Otherwise, you live a very bleak, Muppetless existence, and that's just sad.

The Big Apple of My Eye

Sadly, we returned from NYC days ago, but I haven't written because it also happens to be the last day of the six weeks. Therefore, I've been grading papers like a madwoman trying to get grades complete before report cards go out.

The rest of the trip went something like this:

Ground Zero was a total bust! Both hubby and I were under the impression that the fountains were complete and open to the public. As I mentioned in my last post, I was anticipating a very intimate moment with a place that held so much emotion and memories because the last time I was in that location, I was at the top of the World Trade Center. It turns out that you have to have advance passes before being aloud to go around the construction fence to see anything. Since no one told us this, here is all we got to see:

Now there was a wall across the street with a huge metal plaque that people were trying to get photos of, but that was such a mess that it wasn't worth the effort to push my way through. Talk about incredibly disappointing.

We weren't sure what to do at this point since we had anticipated spending some time here. Fortunately, it was lunchtime and there was an Artichoke's Pizza nearby. A dear friend recommended giving them a try, so that's what we did. IT WAS AMAZING! They gave us a slice of their Artichoke pizza and Margherita Pizza. The Margherita was the best I've every tasted, and the Artichoke was like taking artichoke/spinach dip and just slathering it all over a pizza crust! Dear God! It was delicious. I completely understand why someone would crave that pizza:).

We still had some time to kill before dinner and How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying, so we went to one of my favorite museums anywhere: The Metropolitan Museum of Art. That place is so huge, one could visit it every day of the week and never get to see everything. Since we had a limited amount of time, we took a one hour "everything" tour which really meant seeing about 8 major pieces within a specific section, and then we saw a special exhibit on satire in art. I REALLY wanted to see the shoe exhibit in the fashion section, but it was closed and all that remained were shoe exhibit themed gifts in the Museum shop. Boo. I did at least get to see one of my favorite spots in Manhattan.

We have some Tiffany glass at the DMA, but it isn't a beautiful as this!

It was finally time to get ready for the show! We cleaned ourselves up and headed out to grab a taxi to a restaurant in the Theater District. Apparently, a cab driver can decline to take you where you want to go. FIVE cabs refused to take us to the Theater District, so we started walking AND sweating in our nice clothes. We got a few blocks in and met a pedicab guy who was willing to take us. He turned out to be a great guy and suggested that we go to Orso instead of the restaurant we were heading to. Hubby was suspicious that the guy was getting a little kick back for recommending Orso, but it turns out that wasn't the case at all. The guy Google voiced the number for the restaurant and got us in! He even told us that famous people tended to eat there.

Orso was pretty dang awesome. The Lemon Drop I had was super yummy, and I had quail for the first time ever. Then who should go walking out the door (and right past our table): JEFF GOLDBLUM! Hubby didn't see anything but his back, but I got a perfect view and made eye contact and smiled:). It was pretty neat!

The show itself was entertaining, upbeat, and fun. There was a surreal moment when it occurred to me that Harry Potter was acting, singing, and dancing on stage with a pretty darn good American accent. Then the thought was gone, and all I saw was Daniel Radcliffe and John Larroquette putting in a fabulous performance. In the end, this is as close to Mr. Radcliffe as I got:

I begged to wait around after the show to see him up close, but the metal barricades and police tape restraining 100+ teenage girls was a major deterrent for my husband.

Sunday was THE big day. We were headed to Queens to see The Museum of the Moving Image. I planned to dedicate an entire post to pictures of my Jim Henson exhibit experience, but alas, photography was forbidden. Out of respect for the Henson Legacy, I obeyed. 

It was an INCREDIBLE exhibit! There were actual Muppets (Kermit, Miss Piggy, Bert, Ernie, Mahna Mahna and his crew, and more), many of Henson's sketches and ideas posted around the exhibit, costumes and items from Dark Crystal, and videos chalk full of biographical information. The Museum was pretty cool itself. Since it focused on the "moving image," there was all sorts of film stuff. I was able to play with sound effects and voice overs. There was information on the evolution of the movie industry, costumes, make-up and prosthesis from various films, etc. It was all interactive as well. 

In the end, one moment remained the day's crowning glory:

I'm pretty sure my face says it all.

We ended our trip with dinner out with a former student of mine who is currently attending NYU. He's living the New York life and loving it! It was great to see him and a perfect way to end a perfect weekend.

Wait Just a New York Minute

Being a proud Catholic, sometimes it surprises me that I would cling so steadfastly to a Hindu idea like Karma. Deep down I truly believe that the universe will right itself. If I send out negative, hateful vibes; not only will it send them back but balancing that negativity with a more optimistic outcome will eventually happen. If I was responsible for the negativity, I have to be responsible for some positivity before the cosmos will grant me that. In turn, I must be incredibly grateful when fortuitous circumstances come my way in order to avoid (or at least cope with) the not so fortunate that will inevitably follow.

My proof that this works? It isn't a stretch to consider myself a good person. Perfect? Definitely not. But being an idealistic over-achiever has its rewards: lots and lots of good karma. Both my professional and personal lives stand witness to this idea. The fact that teaching is my true calling means I get to love what I do AND be good at it. The miracle birth of my son is also testament that a lot of faith and optimism goes a LONG way. Meeting my husband was also a great moment of good Karma showing some favor.

Even with our typical married couple problems (we call it "The Divorce Log" knowing neither of us will ever really use it...or would we-he he he...), there is no doubt that we belong together. This brings me to my 6th anniversary present: A TRIP TO NEW YORK CITY!

A passion, zealousness if you will, for The Big Apple houses itself deep inside my heart. Before this trip, I had been to New York as both a freshman and senior in high school. I squeal inside at the blocks and blocks of architectural giants. I giggle a bit when using the subway (even the mama/germaphobe inside of me melts away). I appreciate the grid like layout making it enjoyable and easy to navigate the five Burroughs. If cost wasn't an option, I would move here without any regrets or second thoughts.

My husband knows this. He also knows that the Museum of the Moving Image is currently showcasing Jim Henson's Fantastic World (Henson's birthday-September 24 just happens to be our wedding anniversary-intentional?). Aside from Manhattan, another obsession of mine is all things Jim Henson. Again, my hubby knows this which is why is taking me to the museum while in New York where we'll get to meet Kevin Clash, Henson's protege! As if this weren't enough, tonight we are seeing How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying starring Harry Potter himself, Daniel Radcliffe! Everyone knows how I feel about all things Harry Potter. So what I have here is the perfect storm of an ideal anniversary present! All that preparation and hard work at the beginning of the school year (a different approach for me since I usually fly by the seat of my pants) must have stored away a treasure trove of good Karma:).

Yet the beginning of this trip has left much to be desired. New York has not disappointed. That's not even possible. The trouble started brewing at DFW Airport with the incompetent company American Airlines. Here's how it goes: it cost to take luggage, so everyone tries to fit it all in one suitcase to save money, then the suitcase is too heavy, so everyone has to open his suitcase at the weigh station to remove items. See, American did this to themselves the idiots. So even though hubby and I arrived at the airport long before our flight took off, we waiting in line to be checked in an absurdly long amount of time because E-V-E-R-Y-B-O-D-Y had to open and remove things from suitcases. The lady behind us was participating in a "bitch-till-you-drop-a-thon." All we heard about was how she was about to miss her flight because of how slow everything was. Finally we just told her to go ahead of us (clearly her intention) just to shut her up! I wasn't too upset because being kind to her just racked up a bit of good Karma for us.

We finally checked-in and the American Airlines lady told us we almost missed our check in time (another ridiculous concept since we still had about 40 minutes till our flight). Hubby very bluntly asked, "Well who's fault is that?" Uh-oh. Bad Karma. We got on the plane and wouldn't you know, our seats were the very last row waaaaaaaaaaay in the back. When I opened the window shade to at least take in our view, I only saw airplane. But then the flight attendant noticed they had two seats open up further up in the plane. Would we like them? Yes! Ding, ding, ding! Good Karma stopping by for helping that insane-o lady.

By the time we landed, we were hungry and ready to start our metropolistic adventure. Wouldn't you know, our suitcase somehow didn't make it on our flight and would be arriving with the 9:40 P.M. plane. Did I mentioned we landed at 2 P.M.? I couldn't be shaken from the high I started to feel just knowing I was in New York City! Well sort of. We had to take the train from Newark to Penn Station to Grand Central and then walk about 10 blocks to the hotel. People who know me would assume this would cause my delicate nature to rear its prissy head and insist on taking a cab for the journey. NOT IN NEW YORK CITY! If it wasn't made obvious before, I LIVE for the kind of city life that includes well oiled public transit (a major reason London is also a perfect city). However, this kind of foot travel doesn't bode well for people with 50 pound luggage. Therefore, it turns out that having our suitcase delayed was a blessing because the airport would deliver it to the hotel for us! There's that universe doing its thing and achieving balance:).

Of course the suitcase wouldn't be officially delivered until 2:00 A.M., so we just settled in for 100 Most Shocking Moments in Music on VH1, spent $104 on room service, and crashed in our clothes around midnight. Now we are up and ready to start our day. The irritating delay in receiving our luggage has reinforced in me the idea that something phenomenal will be happening to us today or tomorrow. Since I am meeting a least one of my obsessions, I hope the phenomenon is a powerfully positive one.

We're off to Ground Zero. The last time I was here, I actually looked out from the top floor of the World Trade Center. It will be a surreal experience for sure.

Lean On Me While I Stand and Deliver to these Dangerous Minds in this Blackboard Jungle*

Tomorrow will wrap up the first week of the 2011-2012 school year. This school year is my 7th teaching, and I often wonder just how far I've come in the classroom. I know that in many ways I still lack the wisdom and experience of those noble enough to stick to this for 20+ years, but I have managed to shake off the "newbie" feel and trust myself more to do what is best for my students.

I was so well prepared for this week that I have felt zero stress. Lesson plans were completed, copies were made, the classroom is sporting a brand new white board and bulletin board and hardwood stage. Much to my surprise, I even received two new computer carts filled with brand spankin' new MacBooks. Maybe 7 is the lucky number? Or maybe I've racked up a ton of Good Teacher Karma?

Teaching is truly my passion. Believers say that God has a vocation in mind for each of us and we only need to pay attention to find what that is. Well, I'm a believer and there is no doubt that the talents God gave me are meant for the classroom. When I was 8 and in the first grade, I dressed as a teacher for Career Day. Who does that? ME! I L-O-V-E everything about teaching high school (I've even come to tolerate the insane amount of paperwork)!

Perhaps this is why I shudder when I pass a classroom that is eerily silent or where the teacher is yelling at the students for not having a proper notebook organized in a desired way. I understand that sometimes "sit and get" is a necessary way to educate, but if we ever expect kids to start thinking on their own we've got to allow them to take ownership in their learning. Otherwise all they'll know is how to absorb information but never process it. Honestly, as long as a kid can produce his necessary work/supplies, I'm okay if he doesn't keep a three-ringed binder with dividers. I hated being forced to do that in high school because my brain doesn't think like that. You want to teach me organization? Let me misplace something important once, express your disappointment in me and how I've let you down, then watch as I find my own way to keep up with my work. The kids who don't care whether or not they disappointed the teacher are the same ones who aren't going to keep a notebook anyway.

What's the point? Well, I don't think anyone should be allowed into a classroom unless s/he takes great joy in helping those students reach their potentials. Only doing it for the summers off? Get the hell out because I hate you. Only doing it because you didn't get into med/law school (actual profession of choice)? Get the hell out because I hate you. Only doing it because you're lazy and figured any organization that advertises with a billboard reading: "Want to teach? When can you start?" must be promoting a job a wind-up monkey could do? Get the hell out and pray to God you never run into me in a dark alley.

Please don't misunderstand. I know that sometimes the above reasons are how people stumble into teaching and realize that they found their true calling. I am an alternative cert teacher because my major in college was not in Education (I'm a believer in secondary educators majoring in their subject matter). My beef is with the ones sticking it out for the above reasons. Life is too short and all they're doing is screwing up students. Many of my friends are passionate, hard working educators who always fight for what's best for their students (especially when the state continues to pass absurd regulations because the politicians making the decisions have zero  classroom experience). It's an insult to them and to me to have to work along side people who clearly despise their job or couldn't care less about the well fare of the kids.

So in honor of my superhero teaching crew, I give you Taylor Mali. Many of you have seen this before, but please feel free to enjoy it again:



I'll continue to fight the good fight because I know I'm not alone.







*This post is dedicated to the students who are like my husband. A man who was punished in middle school for attempting to "incite a riot" with the following song:


You are the type of student that keeps me lovin' my job!