Hollywood Stars

I'm wondering if I get a prize for 100 blogs. I'd like a medal. I much prefer medals over trophies except when I prefer trophies over medals.

Christmas this year went off pretty smoothly. Nothing wild and fancy, just a small family gathering. Padre was in rare form this year busting out many hilarious moments including when he decided to adopt my sister's phrase--"frickin' deluxe". You don't know the full scope of that phrase till it comes out of the mouth of your 53 year old father. There was also the moment when he looked at the package of Milky Ways he received for backpacking trips and declared, "Oh Milky Ways! We will have many special adventures!"

Hands down, however, the highlight of hilarity came from my grandmother, who at 86, had forgotten to turn up her hearing aids. I handed her a box of dog treats and said, "Grandma, our dog got some treats for Christmas, you should feed him one." She responded with, "Mmm! Smells nice!" I said, "I don't think so. They're liver treats." It was taking her a moment to get settled, so I turned my attention elsewhere. Seconds later, I heard the booming voice of my father shouting, "GRANDMA! GRANDMA!" As she is very hard-of-hearing, it took her a minute to stop chewing. "What?" That's when my dad shouted, horrified, "That's dog food!" My grandma paused to spit out the wet, half-chewed treat into her hand and examine it closer. Then she fed it to the dog who saw nothing wrong with the scenario. As she smacked the remains in her mouth she said, "Hm! Tastes just fine to me!" Oh g-ma.

Odds and Ends

I realize that most of my work stories are "had-to-be-there" types. But I think this one will transfer.

I am driving our oversized van full of kids. We have a lot of Jewish students so one student pops his contemporary CD into the CD player. First off, Hebrew rap is an experience in itself. Secondly, all the other boys were whining. Then a song, very obviously still in Hebrew, yet with a miniscule mariachi feel to it, came on. One of the kids pipes up:

"I feel like I'm in frickin Mexico!"
Me, dryly - "Good. Enjoy the sun."
Student, needing a comeback, "No, like reTARded Mexico."

I was not actually aware of that geographical region. But this is the sort of thing I listen to every day.

In other news, I have a lovely bunch of friends and I got to celebrate Christmas with them this weekend. Let's just say that a lot of interesting joke material comes from high pressure games like Catch Phrase. I'm also pretty sure that all my presents are wrapped. Whoop!

Cranky

I have written 90 posts, says blogspot. Who knew? Anyway, this blog is devoted to my current state of crankiness. Really, ranting about one's personal whines on an internet blog is pretty high on my pet peeves list, but reflecting on this double standard is only making me crankier.

It started tonight at work, when some of the kids were being royal pains in the ass. Oh and, by the way, the day after I blogged that last one, some boys, including "stan" were involved in a very spiteful act against me. And another kid told me my calm voice was antagonizing him. Whatever.

I read this Amy Adams/Meryl Streep interview the other day and Adams said something great about wasting her whole 20's looking for that special person. I think she's spot-on. Women's lib has come a long way, but ladies, I think we settle it a lot of ways. And it makes me cranky to wonder if I'm falling into that trap. The ideal for the female life should not be to find Mr. Wonderful and have a fabulous career while we're at it (because, yes, we've moved forward and career is now included in the package). I want to be enough by myself. That nonsense about meeting the person who completes you makes me throw up. It should be more like, "I'm complete, but life is a whole lot more interesting with you around." I'm frustrated because I think I AM enough and that I should really enjoy this semi-carefree time of life. So why, then, do I still wish I had someone to share it with? Now, let's not get carried away. I definitely am not ready for anything serious...some recent events only reinforced that. Just "a more significant companion" as someone recently put it. But.

My work schedule limits me to relationships I already have because I don't have the right time slots to go make new ones. And all my relationships have changed, anyway, leaving me feeling like one more appointment everyone has to cram into a slot. So I'm cranky. Cranky that I feel like a little life raft floating in a big ocean...caught in between the religious ideals that used to help me interpret life, and the big question mark that leaves everything open. Feeling like I'm everywhere and nowhere and too much and not enough.

Sounds quite dramatic, but cranky is the perfect word, because it's just that. A temporary emotion that usually gets better after enough consecutive nights of good sleep. And knowing that other people will be subjected to my embarassing psychobabble is a great way to send myself off to bed.

Trying to put together my desk chair and failing also makes me cranky.

While it's sunny...

I work at a boys boarding school. For troubled 10-14ish year olds. I will tell you right now there is never a dull moment. I found the job on craigslist and had absolutely no idea what I was getting myself into. It started like this.

[On my commute home at 10:30 at night] *Insert sobbing* "No, Mom, this is the WORST possible job I could have taken.*

Of course, that was back in the day of the kids who hosed down the basketball court with fire extinguishers and pulled fire alarms. And of course, even then, my mom disagreed with me. And, of course, she was right.

So, I'm just pausing to reflect that I've grown in 3 months and it's been really painful. I lost my appetite, I stopped being able to sleep properly, and I got really quiet. But I'm coming back around. I am getting pretty comfortable in the nickname one of the boys called me once--"Wicked Bitch of the West." And I've started building relationships with the boys. Some of them still want to throw up and/or murder me when they see me coming, and that's okay. My job is to help them grow, not to make them like me.

Things that have meant a lot (in an environment where I've had no official reviews and get very little feedback from my co-workers or supervisors):

[When, after using my "ubercalm-drop-it-an-octave-and-several-decibels" voice to respond to some kid yelling and getting worked up, some other kid pipes up] "Miss Kate [as if I'm a little weird], WHY do you always use a calm voice?" [Good to know you miss the times when I forget and bark orders at you. Glad to know I'm doing my job.] And another kid piped up, "Because it's helpful."

"Ms. Kate, I HATED you when you first got here. HATED you." "I know 'Stan'. I KNOW you did." *Hug*

[Me] "Well, I know I'm not really a strong staff..." "No, what do you mean. You ARE a strong staff. That's why I put you up there."

This job isn't something I want to do forever. It gets pretty tiring when 28 boys go through cycles of hating you. And I mostly just deal with the emotional drama. I'm not often out in the cold/heat shoveling paths or moving rocks or cleaning up horse poop. I don't often get called for containments. But it's still draining sometimes. Even so, I love kneeling down, getting on their level, and helping them where they're at. These times, relative to the millions of times I have to set boundaries, enforce rules, and explain natural consequences, are fewer. But, boy, when that kid turns his head back your way and smiles through a face full of tears and says, "Thanks, Ms. Kate," well, it's worth it.