Intrusion
When I was about five years old, I was rudely awakened after falling asleep on the sofa. My Mom was screaming, running in place, and grabbing me before I knew what was going on. The next thing I knew, I was being thrown on top of the dining room table as my Mom quickly grabbed one of the ice hockey sticks my dad had chosen not to take to his game that night and joined me on the table.
We had an intruder. It was a mouse.
I remember my Dad coming home very late at night to find me sleeping on the table and my Mom occasionally whacking at the floor frantically as the mouse would go charging across the room. My parents had moved into a new construction area and mouse traps in the house were just a way of life for quite some time.
Tonight I grabbed a couple bottles for recycling and headed out to the garage. I flipped the light on and could have sworn I saw something go darting from under my car to under Lil C's bike. I stood completely still and waited on the step. A couple seconds later, the darting intruder made itself known as it scampered across the garage floor to the pile of broken down boxes and disappeared.
I screamed a scream I wasn't aware I had in me, slammed the garage door behind me, and did the Flashdance running in place moves my Mom had done so many years ago. "There's a MOUSE in the GARAGE!" I screamed. "Ahh" and there it was again, my Mom's scream coming out of me.
Mr. BBM got up from the dinner table and with testosterone overflowing, he proclaimed he was going to the garage to do what needed to be done.
There was much slamming and noise in the garage, and when all was said and done, he entered the house empty-handed. He couldn't find it. He didn't even see it.
I won't sleep tonight. I'm terrified to go out to my car. Yes, the 1st kyu brown belt is afraid of a little mouse. And just for good measure. . .
(Insert flashdance running in place action here and just one more "EEEKKKKKKK!!!!!"
I'm going to the store now to buy some traps. I'll have Mr. BBM carry me to the car. How he wishes I was kidding.
Call the Fashion Police and Get me some Hydrocortisone
I hate to wash new clothing. What fits perfectly in the store always fits differently after being washed. I neglected to pick out my clothes for teaching last night, so I was scrambling in a dark closet this morning. A wash in cold water and a dry on delicate didn’t help. My pants that were previously the perfect length are now an inch shorter. They’re not flood pants but they’re not touching my heels the way I like.
My sweater said "lay flat to dry" but it was put in the dryer by accident. It now shows my puny muscular arms and my lower back when I sit. It’s not at all cool, but not enough of a reason to abandon the outfit altogether.
As I was finishing up in the bathroom, my Mom walked by me and told me that the pocket flaps on the butt were sticking up. I hate ironing, but this was one pair of pants that needed it. Unless I wanted to look like I had wings on my butt, I was going to have to break out the iron. I begrudgingly made my way to the laundry room and worked for a good five minutes to get those flaps flat. I abandoned the mission when I realized that it just wasn’t going to happen. They weren’t sticking straight up anymore, but they definitely didn’t look the way they did when I bought them.
I should also mention that I have two mosquito bites on my forehead. One is dead center and the other is right near the part in my hair. Unless I take the Donald Trump approach, there was just no way to create a sweeping bang that sufficiently covered up the bites. When I get a mosquito bite, it’s very bad. I have scars on my legs from them. Apparently, I am very sensitive and possibly even allergic to them, and I react badly. The forehead is no exception to the swelling and redness that accompanies such a bug bite for me. I’ve been getting picked on by my family for days now.
So, with flaps sticking up on my pants and a heavy sweeping bang, I trudged off to campus this morning, intent on keeping the attention off of me and my obvious fashion and complexion faux-pas.
I felt I had made it and was walking down the steps of the building that houses my classroom after class, when a man with a large camera approached me. He surprised me and asked if he could use me as a model. I didn’t feel like I really had a choice. I sort of nodded and he mumbled that he would be right back. In his place, he left a huge camera case filled with equipment.
A student was nearby studying outside and he said, "Don’t worry. He’s legit. He was in my class taking pictures this morning." So I waited and he emerged with a student who looked as bewildered and unsure as I felt. He instructed us to walk awkwardly close together, down the sidewalk, while he stood about a half block away snapping pictures of us. He instructed us to smile and use hand gestures. I had never seen this student before. Awkward was putting it lightly.
We exchanged introductions as we walked down the sidewalk. Then the photographer had us stop, go back and start over again. This time, he wanted us to walk even more closely together, with more hand gestures. He did, however, tell me that my hair was behaving just as it should. "It’s blowing in the breeze beautifully." "Good," I thought to myself, "then maybe people won’t notice my forehead."
After we had walked down the sidewalk three times, the photographer had us stand extremely close together. He instructed me to stand there and appear interested, smiling, while the student had to use hand gestures. We did this for at least five minutes. We were running out of casual conversation for when you have to stand too close to someone.
When we were all finished, I asked the photographer how these pictures will be used. Apparently, the admissions office will be using them for their website, brochures and other promotional materials (including advertisements) for the university.
At this point, I’m just worried about showing up in the "don’t" column of some magazine. Maybe I’ll get on a makeover show someday after all.
Fast Forward
Filed under: Building the BBM House, Mental Strain for Mama
Yesterday I was dragging. At the beginning of the day, 5:30 a.m. thanks to a certain someone’s cell phone alarm that went off every five minutes for a half hour, I had every intention of making it to karate class. It was one of those days though, that totally wiped me out.
I spent the morning trying to convince my students that although they may not have learned how to write thesis statements in high school (shame on their teachers), they are inherently important during the college years. I had several students tell me that they have never written a research paper before. I had several tell me that they have never had to create bibliography or note cards. I did not realize that so many would be lacking basic research writing skills. I think that the reasons their teachers passed on these skills is because of all the pressure to "teach to the test," but that’s a topic for another day.
I spent the morning conferencing with students and then watching speeches in my second class. I grabbed all my gear and headed out to the car, overturning my ankle just three feet from my car. Of course, it was my left leg, so I spent my entire drive home panicking that I had screwed up my knee. By the time I got home, my knee was sore and my allergies had kicked into high gear. I was feeling like I needed a major nap.
I didn’t get one. The contractors working at my Mom’s house were here the entire day, banging and making dust in every room on the first floor. Some people get black lung, but I think I’ll have white lung from all the drywall dust and debris floating around all the time. After picking Big I up from school, I drove by the house and saw that they had graded the yard and finished my rock wall outside, yet no work was being done on the inside. Major bummer. After so much activity at the beginning of the week, I was fearing the end of the week slow down had started already.
I felt like I was going to fall asleep at the dinner table, so I didn’t make it to karate class for fear that the exhaustion of the day would make things worse. I told myself this is called "taking it slow" so as not to feel like a slacker. I dozed on the couch until debate time and then Sarah Palin woke me up (What a relief, by the way!).
Since I spent the entire day dragging yesterday, I decided to start my day with a big cup of coffee. It helped. I then met my realtor at Panera and drank entirely too much coffee. By the time I left my meeting with him, I felt like I was running on fast forward. Apparently the guys were doing the same thing at my house.
When we went tonight, three guys were putting up stone on the outside of the house, and the entire inside of my house (walls and trim) were painted. I was shocked that they were able to get it done in a day. They’ll be back to finish staining the railings on the stairs and to touch up. Next week is flooring, cabinets, and maybe my lights and counter tops. We went from freeze frame to fast forward over night. Maybe my coffee buzz was transferable.
The following are pictures from throughout the week, before the paint. I’ve decided to not show the outside anymore for safety and security reasons. However, if I know you and have known you for quite some time and you’d like to see it, just shoot me an email.
My favorite room in the house, the family room:
The picture window in the entrance. I didn’t know we were getting that cool trim:
My bedroom! They finally put the double doors on.
The catwalk/upstairs hallway:
The catwalk and back staircase, from the family room:
The dining room. I was there as they were putting in the crown moulding and picture framing:
7 Years Later
Filed under: Mental Strain for Mama
It’s hard to believe that the tragedy of 9/11 happened seven years ago. I knew of people who lost their lives, but I didn’t know anyone directly. I’m sure that those who lost someone have felt every single day of the past seven years tick by slowly without their loved one.
I’d like to draw your attention to a post I wrote to remember one of those victims. May we never forget. . .
Kata in the Classroom
I collected my first assignments from my students yesterday. I imagined it would take me little more than an hour to get through their outlines. I figured I would finish both classes easily in one evening.
I barely finished my first class.
I don’t know. I guess I assumed that college freshman knew how to write an outline. I assumed that when I gave them a template to follow, they’d follow it. I assumed that a textbook full of examples that I explicitly pointed out to them would be enough to insure they used the correct format.
Wrong.
Tomorrow it’s back to the drawing board. How can one possibly put together an organized piece of writing without proper planning? I am hoping that my speech class follows directions better than my writing class.
In other teaching news, I actually used kata in my speech class yesterday. The lecture topic was controlling nervousness. We talked about different techniques that the students can use to release excess adrenalin before a speech and how to calm themselves down. I told them what my karate teacher always says: "The person who controls their breathing controls the fight." I told them that it’s really no different with public speaking.
We talked about pausing in appropriate places and I even had them do some calming lamaze breathing. After that I told them about breathing kata and we practiced tensing up muscles and then releasing the tension, and how doing this before speaking helps calm nerves. It was a cool way to incorporate my karate training into everyday life. Looking around the classroom, I think the students thought so too.
I may not be back in the classroom (dojo) myself yet, but I am getting the itch to return in a major way. All this stress from going back to work part time (out of the house) could use some release. It’s been almost a year now of pent up stress. I can’t believe that it’s almost been a year since that horrible night that literally changed my life. I know my leg muscle isn’t ready yet, but I’m starting to think that it might never be ready, so why wait? I’m going to put my brace on this weekend and run through some kata at a very slow speed and see how it goes. If all goes well, I’m heading back very soon.
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