Superclass
My class this year is, in a word, unbelievable. We just finished up the seventh week of school, and I'm still in a state of bliss most of the time at work. I am convinced now that karma does exist, and that this is the universe's way of saying "Hey, I realize you had some serious shenanigans and hijinks to deal with the past two years. I see now that I used up almost all of your patience and made you feel like you were taking crazy pills most days. So here you go. Have these kids. They'll make up for it."
All I can say is- thanks for throwing me a frickin' bone, universe. These kids do, in fact, make up for every second of insanity I've dealt with the past two years. They're all sweet, hilarious, happy little people. I love being around them, I love teaching them, I love working hard for them.
I like to refer to them collectively as Superclass....I have big plans to get them all matching Captain Planet save the earth rings. It's gonna happen.
Trevor Gets Married
My older brother, Trevor, was married to the lovely Maureen McGinty about two weeks ago. I flew back to the US for six days to be in the wedding....and it was insane. In a great way. First of all, flying from Germany to Oregon just for a wedding SOUNDS kind of glamorous. Let me tell you- it's not. 20 hours of travel, US Airways (they suck...hard), a nine hour time difference, a weekend of working twelve hour to prepare for a substitute teacher before leaving, and lack of sleep all made for....insanity. However, I was so pumped for all the festivities that it didn't even matter all that much. There were so many people to see, so many things to do, dresses to wear, wine to drink, American food to eat...that I powered through the jet lag to have a fantastic time.
The rehearsal, rehearsal dinner, wedding and reception were all ridiculously fun. Everything went pretty much according to plan and I only cried a little bit. My brother looked pretty sharp in his Army uniform, Maureen looked smokin' hot in her gorgeous wedding dress, and my fellow bridesmaids and I looked fabulous in our blue dresses. Also, the Crystal Ballroom in downtown Portland? Best reception venue EVER. Don't dispute me. It's true.
One of my favorite parts of this wedding trip was an evening/afternoon that had absolutely nothing to do with the wedding. The day after I flew in, still three days before the wedding, I was visiting my friends in Portland, thinking my brother was still in Washington. Then that night I get a call from him, demanding I meet him at the T Room. The T Room, for those of you who don't know, is the loving (ish) name used by all University of Portland students for the Twilight Room, a dive bar in North Portland. I deliberated for awhile about whether or not I should go (thanks for putting up with that, Jeff), because I was exhausted, was supposed to be driving back to Salem that night, etc. I ended up going, and it turned out to be a great decision. My brother's two old buddies Garth and Joe were there as well, and it was so fun to hang out with them again. They featured prominently in some of my early college days, so it was just like old times...only better, because I could actually get into the bar legally now. We had a couple beers, made fun of the...unique individuals doing karaoke, and then went on a walk to the gas station and back. This sounds pretty lame, but hilarity ensued. Then the next day I met up with Trevor and Garth for lunch at our favorite sushi place, which was something Trev and I used to do in Portland all the time. I can't find the words to describe how happy these simple things made me, but I just felt like I was bursting with joy and contentment. I have a suspicion it was mostly because I was spending time with my brother again- but I think going back to some of our old haunts had to do with it as well.
I still can't believe my one and only brother is married, but I couldn't be happier about it. I'll remember his wedding and the fun that we had together throughout the whole thing forever.
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| All four of us, one now a married man. |
"Are You Sure You're Not Pregnant?"
Never in my wildest dreams did I think I would hear this phrase uttered in a professional workplace setting. Turns out my dreams just aren't wild enough.
Wednesday, I woke up and was feeling nauseated, but figured it had to do with the enormous dinner I ate at a South African restaurant the night before. I went through my morning at school feeling ok, but skipped lunch because I still had some rumbly going on in the tumbly. I had parent conferences starting at 12:30, and at approximately 12:20 I had that twitchy feeling in my throat that has always been a signal that vomiting is imminent. I ran to the bathroom and puked my guts out for about ten minutes, cursing South African food, the fact that I had a parent waiting for me, and the universe all at the same time. I managed to stumble out of the bathroom about ten minutes later, and decided the best course of action was to just get through the conference with the woman who was already waiting for me, and then see how things went from there. In retrospect, this logic seems flawed, but I'd like to see how well you reason things out when you've just emptied the contents of your digestive tract and then have a stern German woman sitting in your classroom, staring you down and judging you for your smudged mascara.
About 20 minutes into said conference, I got that twitchy throat feeling again. Trying to hide my panic at the thought of tossing my cookies all over this pristine and perfectly dressed woman, I wrapped things up while clenching my teeth and smiling like an insane jester. I heard somewhere that this fights the gag reflex, and I think it worked...long enough for me to shove the mom out into the hall and run to the bathroom again. Cue vomit session number 2.
By this time I was able to accept the fact that I might have to go home. I wobbled back out into the hallway, and ran into the next mom on the way. She cheerfully inquired as to her appointment time. I looked at her with watering, bloodshot eyes and tried not to breathe too much of my puke breath on her as I said "I just threw up. I think I need to cancel." Could I have said this more eloquently? Most definitely, but I was going more for "get the point across before I lose my lunch again all over the hallway floor." I did explain that I thought I had food poisoning and really needed to go home for the rest of the day.
The mom expressed her sympathy, and then gave me the old up and down once over and asked "....are you sure you're not pregnant?" SHE WAS COMPLETELY SERIOUS. I laughed uncomfortably and said something along the lines of "Oh no...ha ha....yes, I'm sure...ha ha...." Very convincing, I know.
The next morning, I was back at school, feeling much better. All the kids were coming in, getting started on their morning work, the moms were milling around in the hallway doing their usual morning chat thing. The mom who I nearly barfed on the day before came inside to ask me how I was feeling, and as I assured her I was better and it was most likely something I ate, she WINKED AT ME and said "Well, you know there is something else that can make young women sick like that as well..." I'm pretty sure she also wiggled her eyebrows at me.
Needless to say, I won't be eating South African food anytime soon. Thanks to some terrible chicken, who knows how many parents at school now assume I've got a bun in the oven?
Freiheit
Freeeeeeeeeeeeeeedooooooooooooooooooom! I find this William Wallace-esque bellow to be only appropriate, as I'm leaving for bloody Scotland tomorrow morning at 5 am. I'm on fall break for two weeks, and plan to enjoy the land of the Scots to the fullest. My three friends are coming along with me, and there's been much talk of whiskey and hagus tasting. It should be epic.
Thanks Germany, for being so centrally located, and thanks, employer, for giving me so many holidays. Shazam.
