Grad School Can Bring Out The Best In All of Us

A better title might be:

"Is that beer I smell on your breath?"

This story is dedicated to my dearest friend, who shall remain anonymous (of course to protect her innocence)... You know who you are.

As we peel our rear ends off the plastic seats we have been sitting in for 8 hours a day, 4 days a week. We all agree a refreshing adult beverage is in order. A number of hungry, thirsty, brain dead graduate students pile into the local pub located conveniently across the way. We immediately begin discussing the previous class with fervor.

As my friend Gillionia and I begin heating up from the discussion the decision is made for us to discuss the concern with the Director of the Program, and rapidly throw the ill-equipped professor under the bus. Gillionia and I were of course "sharing" an adult beverage and felt we should finish this before we went over.

As our fellow cohort members "strongly" encouraged us to rush back over and discuss this matter with Dr. Smac, we grew increasingly confident in our ability to "make a stand."

The glass was slammed down as we marched off to find Dr. Smac. We were devising our plan as we briskly walked... "Okay, so we have to let her know about the misinformation she gave us, she shows her panties during class and that she is really mean to you Gilionia."

"Yes, Gillionia, I agree. I got your back, she was not nice to you, only because you knew more than her, of course."

"CLICK... BEEEEP." The door opens and as we accent the stairway to Dr. Smacs office a touch of reality came over us.

"Whooow, can you smell beer on my breath."

"Sniff, sniff, no I can only smell mint."

"What about me, whooow?"

"Sniff, sniff, nope, you are good too."

"We only had 1/2 a beer, Gilionia, we are good."

“Hey, I am not saying anything about her underwear, are you?” Gillionia said, concerned.

“Well, I think it is completely inappropriate, but I feel weird saying anything, I mean it isn’t like she is doing it on purpose, but she really should wear longer skirts.”

Silence…

“Okay, so we are going to leave that one alone, we are focusing on the class issues.” I reassured Gillionia of our mission.

Through the next set of doors reality came flying at us, Dr. Smac was in the hallway, as we entered. "Umm, Dr. Smac, can we talk to you?" Gilionia quietly and reluctantly requests.

"Yes, of course, is everything okay?" Dr. Smac says with her sweet motherly tone.

"Yes, we just need to talk to you about a class we are taking right now and thought you would be the one to help us problem solve." Gilionia replies, regaining a bit of confidence.

"And this involves both of you?" Dr. Smac clarifies, looking directly at me.

Unsure of what to say, I piped in with... "Well, I am witness to how Gilionia is being treated and we are both concerned about some of the class proceedings."

Dr. Smac leans in to both of us and says, "Is that beer I smell on your breath?"

Scrambling to find words and suddenly feeling like a child about to be scolded, we both quickly replied with, "we only had a 1/2 a beer."

Gillionia and I start smack each other on the arm and looking at one another for reassurance that everything will be fine. Both of our faces were beet red at this point.

"Okay girls, let's go in here." As Dr. Smac steps in front of us and holds the door open to a classroom a sudden thumping begins in my chest and I am pretty sure I heard Gilionia burp and fart simultaneously from nerves. I glanced her way and whispered, "Maybe we should have had the beer after."

We were able to discuss the concerns with Dr. Smac in a mature and professional matter. There may have been some crying, with which I was quick to console my friend and strongly advocate for her hurt feelings, as she was unable to at the moment. Dr. Smac could clearly see this matter needed to be addressed, yet would not give us any indication she was going to attend to the matter, rather she affirmed our courage to seek her out.

We ended with hugs and a greater respect for one another. Dr. Smac did encourage us to come to her before we have a ½ a beer next time, however.

Gillionia and I later delivered an Oscar Award winning performance in class a few days later. We are fairly certain the professor walked in confident and left feeling a bit more humbled by our gracefully articulated discussion we had in front of the class pointing out that she was not arguing with us, rather the book and Dr. Smac.

I believe our fellow classmates were snickering and wildly encouraging every bit of this as we continued to boldly defend our points at the potential cost of our grade.

This story was recently reminisced and I thought it would be worthy of the blog. I hope others find it lightly entertaining and equally humorous. I left out parts that would clearly identify people.

OH, and Gillionia did not burp and fart simultaneously. It just sounded fun… J

My First Ride on The RC

I crack one eye slightly as I roll to the side of the bed to gently slap my alarm quiet. It is only 4:50a.m. on a dark and grey Friday. I touch of adrenaline begins to slide through my veins, just enough to make me slither out of the warm bed and somberly walk to the bathroom to get ready for my first ride on my NEW road bike.

As I wade through my things I have carefully placed in my pack the night before, I realize I have forgotten one important item, my shower gel. So, I continue to double, triple and obsessively check every item, to be sure I have all the necessary things to get me through the day.

As I squeezed my self into the ridiculous shorts with a, what seemed to be, Depends diaper attached I looked down and thought, “What the heck am I doing?”

All right I am ready to hit the road, helmet (check), reflective jacket (check), gloves (check), new Shimano bike shoes (check), carefully packed Timbuk2 (check). I jump on and the adrenaline starts flowing like racing fluid in a newly revved engine. Clip, Clip and off I fly, with a little KT Tunstal singing in my ear.

Approximately .5 miles from the house I looked down and realized I forgot my front light. I race back reaching speeds up to 23 mph. Whew this thing can fly, I thought as I hopped off and run in to grab my light. I snapped my light on and turned it to flicker, so the on coming traffic can’t miss me.

Ahhh, the sky is grey, but I am ready to take in the morning air while burning a few calories. As I approach the intersection of hwy 47 and hwy 8 (approximately 2.5 miles from the house) I look up to see the light turning yellow and then red.

“Oh, now is the time I should think about unclipping my shoe from the pedal. “

As the tires continued racing forward panic set in. I applied the brakes in time to come to a semi-stop in the right side of the left turn lane. As I struggled to get my right foot out a gentlemen to the right of me in the other lane had a green light, yet he choose to wait for my stupidity to unfold.

I gracefully (okay, completely gracelessly) fell into the lane of which the gentlemen had a green light, landing directly in front of his truck. In a matter of seconds I jumped up with bike in hand and grasping for my water bottles beginning to roll away. I looked up, horrified to see the gentlemen rolling down his window and asking if I were okay.

Of course I instantly replied with, “I’m okay, thank you, I’m sorry…”

Just in time for my light to turn green as well. We all sped away to get on with our day. Only, mine was just getting started. As I turned to the left and veered to the bike lane I sat down only to realize the seat had been knocked askew. So, naturally I did not have any tools, therefore this would be the way I would now have to ride the remaining 15+ miles. Now, one might think turning around, going home, getting the car and calling it quits might have been the safer, more relaxing way to handle the situation, however this is me we are talking about.

So, off I went. There may have been a few expletives flying out of my mouth along the way (alright, more than a few). As I approached a decent size hill I thought, “well it isn’t raining and I can fix the seat when I get to work. “

As I crested the hill a new rush of adrenaline burst through my veins. I was disappointed as my new computer on my bike was not working (later to find out it was due to the earlier spill), but I was sure I had to be close to 27+mph.

THEN, BAME! My light flies off and bounces into the road. I come to a stop, turned around and grabbed my light just before a car plowed past. It was cracked, but still working.

“Gosh darn it! I should have turned around while I still had a chance.”

I was really letting some words fly now. No wonder people were staring at me.

Okay, so I made it to work finally. The weather held out, just in time for my ride home. I was covered in road grim, and dripping with rain by the time I finally reached my home again just after 5p.m. Friday night. I can’t wait to ride next week…

The Poking Student

So I have this student we will call George. He has been known to be a bit aggressive, a bully and down right avoidable. Well, once I got to know him I realized something; he is a little boy stuck in a large body. He happens to be nearly 6'2" and approximately 240 lbs. or so. He is not yet in high school, but looks much older. The other teachers have steered clear and will frequently talk of the fear he has brought upon the hallway activity. This avoidance has increased his persona... Providing a "don't mess with this dude" facade.

I went on a mission to break down the walls between him and other staff. I had found a little boy who likes to "poke" and play with adults and peers. For a child of typical size at this age, one might not think twice, unfortunately he fell out of this category a couple years ago. Along the way found himself alone. As a caring compassionate person, I wanted others to see this fun, goofy, poking little boy (under the mass) I had discovered. There is a defining moment in which you know George has let you in and now likes you. This moment you find yourself thinking, "what just happened?"

George will drop his chin while keeping eye contact, slowly bring his pointer finger up to your shoulder and gleefully glance up as he pushes his finger into your shoulder and says, "hi."

Along my mission I have gained followers. these followers have all at some time or another found themselves full of joy as the tell the story of when George first "poked" them. As this story was, yet again, being told to me today from a new follower, I found myself thinking; How often do Teachers happily and proudly speak of a time that a student "poked" them for the first time?

Well, I found myself in tears with laughter at this thought and realized this story was more than worth sharing. So, enjoy... :-) I hope that one day you all may meet George and experience the "poke." It will brighten your day.

The Teacher is Always to Blame

Of course they are. How could any parent possibly be responsible for their 13 year-old child discussing the adult video they watched the night before with the other well behaved peers in In school Suspension? This "must" be direct result of the teaching they received the day before.

Let us also know the teacher is solely responsible for lack of respect a child may have during the school day. We all know our top lesson includes telling our students to say things like; "shut the hell up," "You are a retard teacher," and "This school is a faggot."

The second lesson includes ways in which to completely annoy others around you by screeching as loud as possible, grunting like a pig and tapping our desk with pencils.

Now, my favorite behavior we are responsible for is the sassy pants responses all teenagers have at any give moment. I am not sure where we got that lesson, but we sure did a hell of a job on that one... Way to go educators.

Teacher sure do contribute to society!

Okay so I am a follower... Thank you for the leadership Coach D and Ms. Y!!!

I am sure this will lead to many other moments of following in my life. At this moment I will enjoy the opportunity to journal and "share." I hope others find this interesting as well. The fun stories throughout life are fantastic opportunities to provide a moment of laughter for our friends and families.

For now: Imagine life without video games and Internet... Oh my, what would that be like?