I just got a super funny email from one of my favorite students from last year (really, one of my favorites of all time). She was telling me all about the teacher in my room (he is the one who has a personal ad online, if you can believe that). She said that he has made the room plain and boring, and that it doesn't have anything in it now. Also, I guess they had to turn in their first assignment in his class. She asked if they should turn it in the turn-in box, which is still in the room, just sitting there. He said that they should just hand it to him. She said, "But that was Ms. Boombastic's turn-in box." Then, appparently she got tears in her eyes, and one of my other students told her that was one of the most pitiful things she had ever heard her say. Isn't that the cutest? I'm sorry, but I didn't care for this teacher that much, and I hate thinking about him in my beautiful room. I also hate thinking about him not using all of my nice things. Hello? Who would pass up the opportunity to use awesome turn-in boxes (they are those plastic drawers, which means you can't let them go for too long because then the kids can't shut the drawers and they say, "Ms. Boombastic, looks like SOMEONE needs to grade some papers!")? These are my dream turn-in boxes, and instead he wants to have them hand them to him? Ugh.
You know, I used to think my favorite punctuation mark was the dash, but if you look at my writing, I would say I'm a big fan of using parentheses. It's a little out of control, actually.
The oddest thing happened today. I ran into two of my students from Hickville at the mall here in Portland. They called my name, and I didn't have my glasses on (I never wear them) and so I couldn't see who it was. I thought maybe I was mistaken, but they came over to say hi. It was surreal (will I run into them everywhere for the rest of my life?) They told me they were in town because they were visiting another former student who is in the hospital. I actually knew about it already because I read that local paper online to hear about my former students. It was a student I had that graduated last year, not one I was close to, but a really sweet kid. An older friend was driving drunk, and they got into a crash and both were taken by life flight to a Portland hospital. I guess the older friend is paralyzed now, and my student isn't doing too well himself. I am really sad to hear that happened. It was nice to see my old students, even though it was due to such bad circumstances. I really hope my former student will be okay.
I'm still loving my new kids, although my eighth period is officially my "bad" class now. I had a great discussion with my ninth period class that went on for twenty minutes, and they were far better at taking turns than my high school students were. It was really fun for me because it was the first time I got to see their personalities much, since the first part of school is so much teacher talk. We also had Open House on Thursday night, which was exhausting. The first full week of school, paired with having to stay until almost 9pm on Thursday night was a bit out of control. I don't know if anyone really realizes how exhausting it is to teach all day. Just the teaching alone, without even the grading or the planning for the next day, is enough to make me want to go home and crawl into bed right after school. Maybe I am being a little bit overdramatic, but it's true for me.
I did go to dinner with two other teachers: my team leader and her friend. We had a very nice time, and I was glad I went. It seems like everyone is so open to getting to know each other and do things. There was a happy hour get together on Friday, but I didn't end up going because it was on the other side of town and Justin wasn't feeling well. I also was just exhausted, but I promise the next social thing that happens I will go. I want to make sure that I am taking every opportunity to try to make friends with people.
It's funny how much I can miss a place that I was never really a part of. It was definitely time to go, but it was still really hard.
