Everyone's A Little OCD, Right?

I have this theory that everyone, in one way or another, is a little OCD. Well, perhaps I should say 'quirky' or 'anal retentive' or 'strict' instead of OCD, which is clearly a popular disorder, and one that involves me watching shows like 'Hoarders' when there are clearly better things to do with my time. Anyways, I actually think it's fun to check out what other people are obsessive about. And since I'm using this blog as a Lenten project to reconnect with me, I'll lay it all out there about how I'm OCD. Or in other words, how I'm weird.

First of all, I'm very weird about my bookshelf. This is probably the things I obsess over the most. First of all, the books on said shelf have to be in alphabetical order. When I recently moved into my apartment and my mom came over to help me put some things together, she started rearranging the bookshelf based on the size and color of the books and I almost kicked her out. For starters, it took me like two hours to alphabetize all those books, and second it's my bookshelf and it has to be a certain way or it bothers me.

Also, the books that sit on the bookshelf have to be ones that I've read. There's nothing that bothers me more than asking someone about a book on their shelf and they simply answer 'I don't know, I haven't read it.' That's not the case with me. There's nothing better than the sense of accomplishment of putting a book on the shelf. That is, of course, after I write it down in the list of books I've read. I've been keeping a list for every year since 2006.

So there you have it, I'm compulsive about my books. Though, I will admit, I'm pretty adament about keeping my iTunes organized. All songs need to have the correct title, artists, and album, and there can't be any duplicates. I can't start a TV show in the middle, I always have to start from the beginning, even if the show sucked in the beginning. When I was younger and used to journal all the time, I had to fill the entire journal before moving on to another one. I'm the same way with notebooks. If it's a spiral notebook and not filled all the way, chances are I'll keep it and use it for something.

I sometimes wonder why I couldn't be OCD about things that would make my life easier, like cleanliness. I am the queen of the stack, and if I was one of those people who had to put everything in their proper place, I wouldn't have to devote time to going through those stacks to find what I need. I have noticed though, as I get older, I don't like to look at something that is considered dirty. I don't like trashcans or recycle bins on display (I prefer to put them under the sink) and I don't like to look at dishes in the sink, either. This does not correlate with the stack problem I have. Today I cleared a stack of eight books on my nightstand. Well, by cleared, I mean dwindled. Now there's only three.

Alright, enough about my weird habits. Do any of you have some?

The Books that Made a Difference to Me

Reading has been a part of my life in so many ways, and not just because I read for fun or majored in English at Xavier. I remember very clearly my parents reading to me and my brother every night before we went to bed. Even more vivid than that are my memories of talking about books with my grandmother. She works in a library, which used to be her childhood home, and I owe a lot of my love for books and writing to her.

With the foundation she helped me build, I was able to explore a very vivid, fascinating world, all in pages of the various books I read. Here are the six books that made a difference in my life.

A Tree Grows in Brooklyn-Betty Smith

I remember reading this book as a summer reading assignment in high school and I loved it more than any book I read my four years at Holy Family. The sweeping epic that was sad, scary, and tragic as well as fascinating completely captured me. I've been meaning to reread it now that it's been almost ten years. I hope I love it even more.

The Rapture of Canaan- Sherri Reynolds

One of my favorite classes at Xavier was Faith and Doubt in Modern Literature. This book was one of our assignments and I absolutely loved it. I was absorbed in the idea of the occult and I zipped through this book in about two nights. The words were like songs, our heroine was brave and admirable, and I still think about this book from time to time.

Eat, Pray, Love- Elizabeth Gilbert

Rarely am I ever moved to tears by a book, and it's even rarer for me to highlight part of a book, but both occurred while reading this memoir of a woman who goes across the world to find herself. There's been a lot of EPL hate since it's release, but I find it all to be circumstantial and from people who clearly haven't read the book. I go back over it again and again to hear Liz's thoughts on love and God and I feel like she is one of those rare people who really understands the mental turmoil of women who weren't born to lead that average life.

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows- J.K. Rowling

Scoff all you want, but this book represented a lot for me. It was the end of my childhood, since I essentially came of age with Harry, Ron, and Hermione, as well as the end of a publication phenomenon that I shared with the world. Aside from the abstract, personal reasons that I loved this novel, I was completely floored by its message of love, it's Christian symbolism, and the fact that an elf died and I sobbed for a full five minutes about it. Thank you, JK Rowling! You are my childhood. I read this book my sophomore year of high school and it was the first time I remember getting in a heated debate with an idiotic classmate over the moral center of the book. I figure if the book made me mad enough to actually talk about it in class, it must truly be a classic. Steinbeck has such a way with words and plot that it's hard for to grasp that this came from one man's imagination.

Of Mice and Men- John Steinbeck

I first read this book as a sophomore in high school and it was my first memory of ever correcting someone who said something idiotic in class. I know that sounds harsh, but in reality it was one of the first books to make me see morals as something of a grey area. A sure sign of a good book is one that makes you think. Steinbeck's style seems flawless and effortless. His knack for a story layered with meaning and poignancy is enviable to say the least.

Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close- Jonathan Safran Foer

My friend Clay recently called this book "the saddest book in all of history." Though this is a debatable statement, his sentiments are spot on. The story of a little boy who lost his father in the 9/11 terrorist attacks, but is determined to find the key to his mailbox, is told in undertones of great sadness. The importance of Foer's work is not how sad it makes you, but how it captures the feelings of an entire nation in a little boy.

Resurrecting the Blog for Lent (no pun intended)

It's been a while and it's been far too long. I haven't written in this thing since summer, and I used to write here all the time. Sigh. Like a lot of people, I got caught up in getting my early 20s life together and unfortunately, this blog fell by the wayside.

But, faithful readers (and by faithful readers I mean Laura and my mom), I was struck by blind inspiration while at Borders today and decided that my Lenten promise will be to write in this blog every day for 40 days. I mean, I'm practically like Josh Hartnett in '40 Days and 40 Nights' except I'm not giving up sex and I'm a girl. So in other words, not at all, but it's the only pop culture Lent reference I can make, so go with it.

So, we must set up some rules for this thing, as with all blog challenges. The first and most obvious is I must post an entry every single day, including Sundays. Taking Sundays off is for the weak. Also, the blog entries must be about 300 words long unless it's a list entry, like '10 Things' in which all the lists must include 10 things (obviously). If I miss a day (heaven forbid) then my faithful readers can challenge me to do something (within reason).

Alright, so what should you all expect to see? Well, I'll be bringing back the '10 Things' as well as my Secret Shames. Maybe I'll even come up with a new segment.

I also understand that some people reading this may have never come across my blog before. Well, if you look to your right there is the archives as well as the tagged subjects (and there are some handy links above as well). Take a moment to familiarize yourself if you would like. Also, feel free to comment! I like to hear from people. Though, now that I've asked you to, I'll probably get one comment during the 40 days of Lent.

Alright everyone, t-minus five days until we go 40 in a row. Ready?

Another Serious Moment

So I've definitely been neglecting the blog since moving back to Colorado. I have no excuse, really, except to say I've felt less compelled to write in it so I simply haven't. There isn't much to say, really.

Since moving home I've had a hell of a time finding a job. There's been lots of interviews, a few misleading phone calls, broken promises, and networking opportunities that looked hopeful, but didn't end up panning out. I was pretty downtrodden and frustrated. I was in full swing of the Emily pity parade and I let everyone know how pissed off I was.

I was in the Arvada area and decided to stop by my grade school church, Shrine of St. Anne. I haven't been to St. Anne's in years, yet I think about the place a lot. I would not say I'm Catholic anymore, or particularly religious to begin with, but I figured that maybe if I went to a quiet place and asked God for a little help, it wouldn't hurt. I know there's a tiny chapel tucked away in the church that houses all the candles and part of St. Anne's ankle bone (though how they've confirmed this, I have no idea) and I've always wanted to see it.

It was probably the middle of the day when I went in, went to the back chapel, lit a candle, and folded my hands like the little girls in first communion photos, and prayed. I wasn't there long, maybe 15 minutes, and when I came out I saw a man kneeling in one of the pews, his hands clasped together so hard it looked like he was holding on to something valuable. He was talking softly and crying. I couldn't hear anything except for the words 'God,' 'please,' and 'help.'

Here I was thinking I was having a rough time. Clearly something in this man's life was bothering him so much he was emotional. Whatever it was, it was probably something more serious than 'please can I get a job so I can pay for my smartphone, new clothes, and a ski pass.

Think about how many times we use the word 'I' everyday. Or some form of it at least. 'I want a better job' 'I need a new house' 'I've got to stop eating that' 'I want him/her to love me.' Then think about this: odds are, when you're having a tough time, there is someone out there who's having a worse time than you. There's no way to really know, but if anything I do know there are people worse off than me, like people who don't have a job and need one so they can provide for their families, or people living in terrible and sometimes terrifying conditions.

Things will improve for me eventually, they have to, but for the man in the church whatever is wrong in his life may take longer to improve, if at all. Later that week when we have dinner as a family my parents, being good religious people, sometimes make us say a special prayer for someone. Usually I try to think of terrible things that have happened in the news and use that as my special prayer. Lately, my special prayer has been for all the unemployed, including, selfishly, myself. But, for the first time, I felt a real sincerity when I mentioned this man and prayed for him. He needs it more than I do.

A Tale of a Vuvuzela

The favorite instrument of the World Cup (and least favorite instrument of viewers of the World Cup) lead me to take a little trip down memory lane recently. Though, since I moved home, a lot of things take me on a trip down memory lane.

My junior year of high school I hung out with my friend Lisa and a bunch of dudes. Some of them were on the football team and we did the whole Friday night game thing. My friend Bryan, one of the few not on the football team (turns out he's insanely good at volleyball), was all about school spirit that year. He painted his face (and then smeared it on me to try and give me a Hitler mustache), wore crazy costumes, and got plenty of noisemakers.

One of these noisemakers, and no doubt the most infamous, was a blue vuvuzela. Of course, we didn't know that is what it was called at the time. We always referred to it as Bryan's horn. Bryan would blow it while we drove down the streets, he'd blow it in his backyard, and he blew it at school.

Well, at one football game, Bryan had the audacity to bring his horn and blow it at all the wrong times. It was so obnoxious that I refused to stand directly next to him. I thought it was funny the first five times or so. Then it got tedious. Turns out I was not the only who thought that. Bryan's horn blowing became so obnoxious for both teams that he was asked to stop multiple times. When he didn't, a technical was called on our Holy Family Tigers because of the "rowdy" fans. The next day, the incident was written about in the high school sports section of the Denver Post. Cue Bryan and his vuvuzela's 15 minutes.

I don't know what happened to Bryan's vuvuzela and his stunt was the talk of HoFam for a few weeks. I don't think anyone was truly mad at him. In hindsight, the incident is absolutely hilarious to me, especially with all the vuvuzela dissing lately.

So if there is a sudden rise in popularity of vuvzelas at Holy Family football games this fall, it's probably because of the World Cup. But remember, Bryan blew it first.

5 Pet Peeves

We all have them, but I used to think I was an exception. I used to think I was so easy going and that little things would never start to bother me. Well, I must be getting old(er) or something because my list of pet peeves only seems to grow. Below are five little things that drive me crazy.

1. People who mispronounce 'Xavier'

Alright everyone, here's the little trick I tell people who pronounce my alma mater "ex-ay-vier." It's like the X in xylophone and Xena: Warrior Princess. "Zay-vier." Not difficult, right? Well, for some reason it still seems to be that way since NBA baseketball commissioners, ESPN broadcasters, and people I'm related to still can't say it correctly.

2. One word text messages.

I hate hate hate it when someone texts me and all it says is 'k' or 'o'. That means nothing to me. It's just letters of the alphabet! And you just wasted one of my valuable texts.

3. Group numbers on American Idol

No one looks or sounds good when they do these. The songs are cheesey, the choreography is cheesey, and it's literally painful for everyone involved. Yet they keep happening. MAKE IT STOP KEN WARWICK.

4. People who root for teams from countries that they were in for a brief period of time over the country of their residency and/or birthright during world-wide sporting events

I understand if you were born in another country and then immigrated here, or if you lived most of your life in a certain part of the world, but just because you were there for two weeks on a college study abroad trip gives you no reason to root for Germany, Ghana, or anyone else, over the U.S. in the World Cup. You don't do it because you love Germany either, you do it just so you can be counter-culture or won't be preceived as being too nationalistic. The worst offense though is when people root for other countries over the U.S. because they are tired of the U.S. being good at everything. It just makes you sound like snob.

Also, if you like that country more than the one you live in, then why are you even here? I don't mind if you leave, frees up the job market for people like me!

5. People who use the wrong you're/your or their/there/they're

This was my biggest pet peeve as a teacher, but I worked with them on it. Afterall, they're only about 11-13 years old and the English language is friggin hard. I understand. But when you're a high school or college educated person and you use the wrong your/you're it just makes you look ignorant.

Emily's East Coast Extravaganza!

It's been a while since I went on my 10-day excursion to the East Coast and life has been hectic since returning, so I'm just now writing about it. I went to Philadelphia, New York City, and Washington, D.C. My first two destinations were places I have never been before and D.C. is a familiar city that I grow to love every time I go. So now for some photographs of my fun travels!

My trip started in Philadelphia where my former roommate from college, Kristina, lives. She took me on a nice little tour of the city. We went to see the front of Independence Hall, the Liberty Bell, and all the cool public sculpture in her city. We also went to Edgar Allen Poe's house, so the English major in me was happy.

We also ate a lot of amazing food and drank some interesting beer. We tried this thing at the City Tavern (apparently it was a former hang out for the likes of George, T.J and others) that was beer brewed or enjoyed by America's founding fathers. Thomas Jefferson's was the best. Yum!

The highlight of the trip was seeing Vampire Weekend at the Electric Factory. Oh Ezra Koenig, you make it possible for academic rock stars everywhere to be adored by loads of girls. Have my babies? Please and thank you.

After this, Kristina and I ventured to the concrete jungle where dreams are made from, the home of Carrie & Co., and the new home of my high school friend Angela. New York City has lots of adventures, and we embarked on our own on Saturday. This included day drinking at NYC's oldest bar McSorely's. Needless to say, we had lots of fun.

Sunday was not my favorite day, as I got sick :( (Stupid fish allergies!) Monday I was feeling much better so I ventured to Rockefeller Center, the Museum of Modern Art, the Empire State Building, SoHo and the WTC site. I saw cool paintings like the one above. The MoMA was probably my favorite thing on that first day. The Empire State Building had a cool view, but it was like waiting in a line to wait in a line. Talk about annoying.

Day Four in NYC saw me riding the subway a lot. I went to Times Square and Union Square both of which are really cool. I had never seen so many people in one place. Times Square was simply bursting with people. There were loads of tourists from around the globe. I ate at PRET which made me happy because it made me think of London. I also stopped by the Met and went to see "Promises, Promises" starring Sean Hayes and Kristin Chennoweth, which had terrible music but an excellent script. Sean Hayes was hilarious.

In NYC I had pizza and Indian food, but did not eat out very much. It's all really expensive. In fact, New York City in general costs an arm and a leg. I could never live there, but it's awesome to visit. Oh, I went to one of the stoops they used for Carrie's apartment in Sex and the City. It's been repainted since.

After that, I headed for D.C! D.C. is loads of fun and I definitely ate a lot of food and drank a lot of beer in this city as well. I had Cherry Blossom beer at a happy hour. D.C. is big on happy hours. I also had lots of wine, courtesy of my friend Kelley, who's apartment I stayed at. I went to art museums in D.C. as well as the Pentagon memorial the Smithsonian Musuem (the one on American History which was overcrowded with middle schoolers. I stayed an hour). I also ate lunch on the White House lawn and felt cooler than I actually am.

Some of my favorite things in D.C. included eating dinner at Lauriel Plaza. They have amazing swirl margaritas and really cool rooftop seating. Too bad it rained. I also went to the Newseum which was definitely my favorite thing on the D.C. portion of my trip. The museum is so well done. I was there for over three hours. They have all sorts of things, like newspapers dating back to the 15th century, an exhibit with Pulitzer Prize-winning photographs and a very moving 9/11 memorial. There's a part of the Berlin Wall, Tim Russert's office and SO MUCH MORE.

So I saw lots of great things in these cities but the greatest was seeing my friends. I guess it's telling of the fact that I'm getting older that my friends are now going in opposite directions, having real jobs, spreading their wings. It was great to see my friends, who I've missed a lot. Now it's their turn to come to Denver!

5 Ridiculous Things I Believed As A Child

Working with children, especially ones that have the Internet at their fingertips, has done nothing but prove to me that sometimes kids will believe anything, even if it's totally outlandish. For example, one my 8th grade boys was convinced that 'Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs' was an idea concoted from a bunch of guys who smoke marijuana (though the connection between the names of the dwarfs and the symptoms of getting high is pretty interesting...Sleepy, Dopey, Grumpy, etc. Though I don't know where 'Doc' falls into that).

This has lead me to think back on the five things that I believed as a little kid, but later found out were completely untrue and totally ridiculous.

1. Christopher Robin is a girl

Okay, you have to cut me some slack here because I totally had a boy bowl cut growing up and Christopher Robin sports one himself. Also, he has tea parties with his stuffed animals. My little brother never did this and I had tea parties all the time, so, naturally, I thought Christopher Robin was a girl who just happened to be named Christopher.

2. You get pregnant by praying really hard

I blame my grandmother for this one because she always said to me how my parents, aunts, uncles and cousins 'pray for babies and finally God blessed them with one!'. So in my mind, you just had to pray for a baby. This of course brought up conflicting ideas in my head when I heard about a friend's sister getting pregnant in high school. I asked my mother and she sat me down for a miniature version of the birds and the bees talk which is pretty much uncomfortable at any age. At least she told me what really happened before I told someone else about my 'praying' theory.

3. You can dig to China from the playground

I'm sure I wasn't the only one who thought you could dig to China in the playground's sandbox. At every school I attended growing up this was always a steadfast belief held by every child in the second or third grade. I was definitely a part of some of the digging teams at school. Sadly, our only success was creating a way to go under the fence out of the playground, which got the kids who did escape into big trouble. Just goes to show they should teach basic geology at a younger age.

4. A Taco is called a Lunch Grape

When I was about three or four I started coming up with my own lingo for things. 7-Up was 'Green Soda' because it came in a green can. Doritos were called 'Katie chips' because my babysitter ate them all the time. But the one mystery is why I started calling tacos 'Lunch Grapes.' I would ask for 'Lunch Grapes' for dinner and even tried to feed one to 1-year-old Will. The best story is one I can't remember though. My dad and grandfather were at the Taco Bell drive-thru and my dad ordered 'one soft taco for my daughter' and I went berserk. I apprently screamed 'I WANT A LUNCH GRAPE, YOU IDIOT!' and would not stop hollering until my dad told the drive-thru attendant that he really meant to say 'Lunch Grape'. No one knows what became of the lunch grape, as one day when I was about five I referred to it by it's proper name.

5. The Muppets actually exist and Seaseme Street is a real place

My parents favorite hour of the day was when Seaseme Street came on because then I would actually settle down and shut up. I was convinced for the longest time that Seaseme Street was a real place. I begged my parents to go there on vacation. I was dying to see Big Bird and Elmo. I was also convinced that Kermit and Fonzie were real people. You can imagine my horror when I discovered from some mean boy at school that they are actually puppets and Seaseme Street is a sound stage.

How about you, faithful readers? Any sort of outlandish childhood beliefs?

Happy Birthday, Mom!

Today, fifty-plus years ago, my mother was brought into this world.

And thank God because without her, I'd be a mess (and also non-existent).

My mom has lead a life very different from my own, so far at least. She was born in Texas, the youngest of three siblings, and grew up with her parents and her border collie named Trixie. She was saludatorian of her small town high school class (ever hear of Floresville, TX? Didn't think so) and one of one five or so girls in her class to attend college. She went to Texas A&M University and got what my father calls a "bullshit degree" in Sociology. She dated a guy named Dwayne who was a good dancer. She graduated magna cum laude after a hellish semester that included her mother dying of pancreatic cancer. She went to work in the hotel industry, met my dad in Arkansas at a New Year's Eve party, and married him two years later. She had me months before turning 30 and had my brother three years later.

Needless to say, those of you who know my mom in person know that she has come a long way from that blond, small-town, Texan tomboy. Now she's brunette, in the best shape of her life, married for 25 years, two-time champion of her fantasy baseball league, and one tough cookie.

Not only is my mom tough as shit, she's also a very loving mother. Sometimes her 'loving' nature bordered on being 'overprotective,' but mostly it was loving. She was supportive of everything I wanted to do, no matter how stupid it was. She sent me to a writer's day camp which is one of the highlights of my childhood. She helped Will and I with loads of school projects, drove us everywhere, put up with my teenage angst, and let me do my own thing in high school. And she is the epitome of the person who just takes one for the team. I mean, the woman did move to Minot, North Dakota with two very small children because the U.S. military basically told her she had to. There, she endured blizzards in May and a Christmas where my dad gave her seven pizza cutters and that was it (she kept accidentally throwing them away and my dad was trying to make a point). She loved me when I was going through a phase of not loving myself (aka junior high) and she was the one who discoverd Xavier University on a college website and told me to look into it. She, more than anyone else, encourages me to be myself and to follow my passions. She is an awesome mom and an awesome person.


So, Mom, thanks for being born, and thanks for giving birth to me. I appreciate it! And I appreciate you, too. Happy birthday!

An Artistic Representation of What I'm Like at Family Parties When My Relatives Are Gossiping

Some FAQs about this blog

I have been asked a couple of questions lately about this blog and I thought I would answer them here. Any more questions? Leave a comment or formspring.me.

Q: Where did you get your name for your blog?
A: From the song "Underdog" by Kasabian. The line is "Kill me if you dare/hold my head up everywhere/keep myself riding on this train/I'm the underdog/live my life on a lullaby/keep mysel riding on this train." I kinda like it so I used it.

Q: Where the *#&! are you?
A: The westside of Cincinnati, OH. Also known as 1999.

Q: You are such a vain little bitch. Why do you have a blog? You're not important, no one cares what you think.
A: Why are you reading this then?

Q: How old are you?
A: Old enough to know better, too young to care

Q: Why do you blog?
A: I like to write and I need an outlet for it.

Q: Is there a format to this thing?
A: Not really. I mean, I have secret shames, quotes from my students and 10 things that I like, but that's about it. Other than that, anything goes.

Q: Do people read this?
A: Yes, according to Google Analytics (which is awesome).

The Only Fuel You Need While You Diet Is Hate

I'm pretty forthcoming in this blog, so I will not lie to my faithful readers (all three of you) about my personal life. It seems that I have developed into an emotional eater, replacing friends, boys, and parties with food and have since put on a little extra weight. I'm not ashamed of this. Everybody goes through it. But when you can't zip up the khakis that used to hang loose on you, it's definitely time to evaluate life habits and such.


I'm about a month into my diet which is mostly composed of Weight Watchers, lots of vegetables, and exercising. Well, more exercising than just pilates, which I have been doing since the treadmill broke and my iPod was stolen. It's been a frustrating process that includes dreaming of food and generally hating day-to-day life.


Actually, now that I think about it, losing weight involves a lot of hate. During the process, you come to hate a lot of things. This is something new for me, as generally I don't think of myself as a hateful person. But I find myself doing a lot of hating throughout the day. Below, is an example:

Morning

• "I hate waking up hungry."


• "I hate that I just ate air for breakfast."


• "I hate it when I wake up and can barely get out of bed, my abs are so sore."

School

• "I hate it when they have a tray full of brownies in the office."
  
• "I hate that Karen can eat whatever she wants and looks like a bean pole and I am sitting here, eating air."

After School

• "I hate that I ate air for lunch because now I'm even hungrier."
  
• "I hate running on the treadmill and staring at the same spot for thirty minutes."
  
• "I hate running on the treadmill when a terrible song or commercial comes on the radio and I don't want to change it because then all my little dots that show my distance will go away."
  
• "I hate doing crunches."

Evening

• "I hate that I just ate air for dinner."
  
• "I hate that we eat dinner so late, hoping not to go to bed hungry."
  
• "I hate going to bed being hungry."

Nighttime

• "I hate dreaming about food."
  

So as you can see, that's a lot of hate all wrapped up into one typical day in my life and it gets pretty frustrating after a while. It sometimes even comes to the point where it really drags you down.

So I got to thinking, which do I hate more, all those things that I listed there, or the fact that I can't fit into clothes I own? Or that my self-esteem is pretty low latey? Or that I simply do not feel like I live a healthy lifestyle? Or that I sometimes feel like a blob and a waste of space because of what I eat?

I hate all of those things that I listed there, more than the fact that I can't indulge in office sweets or I have to sweat it out on the treadmill all the time. I also have to look at the bigger picture here, which is my long term health. Because of recent health scares in both me and my parents it's a thought in the back of my mind.

So whenever I get on the treadmill or see a plate of delicious brownies, I tell myself "I would hate to wear frumpy clothes, I hate being tired all the time, I would hate to have high blood pressure, I hate feeling like a blob.

It's the hate that keeps me going.

Birthdays, February Challenge, and other shenanigans

Well hello, blog. I feel like we haven't hung out in a while.

So about a week ago I celebrated my 23rd birthday. It's a very unexciting age. There's nothing distinct about being 23 except I can't be mistaken for being in college at my age. I though I was going to have the lamest birthday ever, but I hung out with some friends, got some super tasty margaritas, and went to Mt. Adams for drinks with post-grad friends. I got hit on by a UC college student and someone offered me a lap dance for my birthday.

Now that we are about to drift into February (thank God, I'm so tired of being cold), I am looking at the months I have left at a regularly paying job and it's not a pretty sight, especially with two vacations in the next six months or so. So I decided one of the ways I am going to cut some of my spending is to stop using my credit card so much. I am going to challenge myself to only spend $100 with my credit card in the month of February. Let's see if I can do it...

The past four days at school have been slightly stressful. It's like the kids have major cabin fever. Five days a week for six hours seems like a lot to me, especially since the last time I was in that sort of cycle I was 17 (I had lots of study hall/free periods senior year of high school). I myself find the days to really drag and I feel like I'm losing my creativity. I'm in desperate need of said vacation.

I am also suffering from a lack of acceptable technology these days. My phone died and I'm using my cousin's and it's shit. It's difficult to text on, but hey, it was free, so I went with it. I also miss my iPod and miss exercising. I can't seem to run much without it because I need my iPod to run. It's not a question of want, or simply enjoying it. I just hate to run and when I listen to music it distracts me from hating what I am doing and it drowns out the sound of my dramatic breathing. So, in short, I need my iPod. I would like to purchase this before Emily's Eastcoast Extravaganza* but we will see.

Okay, all for now. I'll write more when I'm interesting again.

*title curtosey of Patrick J. Stevenson

The Most Ridiculous Monday Ever

I know I just blogged about myself recently, but I really have to express how much of a ridiculous day today was. I will break up the ridiculousness by grade, so you can see the order of the chaos today. Oh, the life of being a teacher.

7th Grade: the class where someone threw up

What a way to kick off my morning! We had just finished up talking about conflict in the book when suddenly one of the boys (in the front row!) yaked all over his copy of 'My Brother Sam is Dead'. Now, I used to have a terrible gag reflex. It's gotten a little better over time, but mostly I base my gag reflex on a case-by-case basis. Like one time a student threw up in the office and I had to print something in there and I completely forgot about that because the office smelled so awful. Luckily, when Tristan puked, my reflex was behaving, so i promptly escorted him to the bathroom.

Now, the bathrooms at my school are a little weird. On the first floor, where I teach, there is just the girls' bathroom and the teachers' bathroom. In the basement is the boys' bathroom. Now, I was not about to take Tristan down two flights of stairs to the boys bathroom so I lead him into the girls, which was, unfortunately, occupied by two third grade girls who screamed bloody murder when I went in there with Tristan. I ignored them and made them leave, and they were beyond upset about this and kept carrying on.

Luckily the secretary, Margaret, heard the commotion and she called our handyman/janitor Vince and he came to clean up the mess. Of course, because it is the 7th grade and they are notorious for being a class that is hard to control, all hell broke loose and they all made such a fuss about being in the same room as the puke that I eventually gave up and we went upstairs to the gym and finished reading up there.

6th grade: the class where we learned about chastity

This week the people from the Pregnancy Center in Price Hill, who actually do a lot of good work in a sort of rough part of town, are coming in to teach the 'In Control Chastity Program' at school. Just one of the many joys of teaching in a Catholic school. The nice but slightly awkward man and woman go from class to class. Each year they focus on different things, like in the 5th grade they learn about reproduction and abortion, as well as the differences between boys and girls. This year I sit on the program with the 6th graders. I do not elect to be there, mind you, I have to be because kids must be around a licensed adult and in this case that would be me.

So today I got to watch the 6th graders participate in activities about chasity and respecting yourself and others. Now, my 6th graders are a very well-behaved class. They don't really get in trouble and they are pretty respectful of others, so overall their behavior was good. There are a couple of students though who are either slow on the uptake, extremely curious, or clearly learned things from an older sibling that they feel like sharing. Here are some of the highlights (names omitted for privacy reasons)

6th grader: what's oral sex?
another sixth grader: it's when you put other peoples' private parts in your mouth
Chastity people: ......
Me: (trying not to laugh)

Chastity People: How can your job be affected by having a baby
6th grader: Well I don't have a job...so it won't be affected at all

Chastity People: That's right, we will not get to spend much time with our friends if we have a baby if we are not married
6th grader: Or with our parrots

The worst thing though is when the chastity people ask the teacher for her opinion. I know they do this because they want to establish with the kids that me, an adult they are around every day and who they like, believes the same things you do. The questions today were not too awkward, but I was really trying to read something else and grade some quizzes but I had to keep looking up.

8th grade: 'Miss Hoferer, what's a hobknocker?'

Okay, so a very popular show amongst my students is iCarly on Nickelodeon and this term was thrown around by some of my sixth graders early this year. This is the part where I reveal how out of touch I am because I had no idea what a hobknocker was so I looked it up online. Among it's various definitions include things like masturbation and bestiality. Lovely. I think, though, that the iCarly version goes with the definition I found the most, which is 'something illegal and/or gross'.

But because it has so many various and colorful definitions, I told the sixth grader in question that they should not use that word at school. Well, someone must have said it on iCarly over the weekend, because once the 8th graders arrived and were settled this question immediately came up.

With the 8th graders I try to answer all their questions (as opposed to the 5th graders. If they ever ask me anything inappropriate I give them a vague definition or tell them to ask their parents), so I simply said: 'it has a lot of definitions, but let's go with the saying it's someone who is gross or does stuff that's illegal'. Let's be real here. I'm not going to tell them what it's real definition is, which is British slang for a guy smacking his girlfriend in the face with his...well...you know (I even asked my token British friend Simon about it). But boy, was that the wrong thing to say. About ten minutes later I catch two of the girls passing a note and of course I open it up to see that the girl who asked me earlier wanted to know the other definitions and another classmate, who apparently went on urbandictionary.com to look all of this up listed it's various definitions, was answering her query.

I didn't really know how to approach this, so I just kept the girls after class and explained to them not to pass notes and to ask people later and not to write words like 'masturbating in a public restroom' on paper because a teacher might see it. I didn't necessarily want to discipline them for what they wrote. Instead I moved their seats so they no longer sit together, but still, it was one of those grey areas of discipline.

Planning period: Desserts!

There was a giant plate of mini-desserts in the office today. Let's just say I indulged. I also went online and figured out how to get on Twitter and Facebook, which is all usually blocked. I was excited.

Lunch: More discussion of 'hobknocker' and weddings

I inform three fellow teachers of what a hobknocker is and we discuss all the people who know who are getting married.

5th grade: the class that was all over the place.

The fifth grade at St. Al's is very small, only six students, and their pretty much cover the entirety of the learning spectrum. Last week we had a lot of cancelled or delayed school which means classes get shuffled around and a lot of fifth graders were sick so we are incredibly behind on our classroom novel so today I planned on having the late ones catch up and the ones who were caught up had to read with me out of their little readers.

Well, as soon as we are about to start, in come the Chastity People who need to use my classroom so now me and six students have nowhere to go, so we go to the library. When I get there someone is talking to the librarian and when I'm introduced to him he says 'oh! I know you're dad!' and he proceeds to ask me all these questions about my father while the six ruffians run amok in the library.

Once I calmed them down and sent them to their respective corners, the four who were caught up brought their little readers and we sat down to read only to realize that we have read almost all of the stories in our readers, which meant we had to do the boring ones, which is very painful for 11-year-olds. I stopped them from reading early and we played the vocab game instead.

After all of this I went back up to school, packed up my things, got into my car and laughed hysterically. One of the great things about teaching is I literally do not know what the day will bring me.

productivity at it's finest

This weekend, I was not a waste of space. Chalk one up for being productive! Ooo-ra.

In fact, I was pretty productive this week. I applied for a bunch of jobs as well as applied to be a tutor with some families. Hopefully something works out. I also cleaned out my car, 4 purses, two huge stacks of paper and a drawer of shit. I found loads of amusing things, like my flask, and GRE scores, and a three page long written conversation that my friend Katie and I had in philosophy back in the spring of '09 that basically is about how neither of us wanted to be in that class, how busy Katie was, how bad my senioritis was, and other insignificant but amusing things. Let it be known that until that class, I had NEVER passed notes in a college course.

I recently found out that my FastForward program at Regis starts on May 10, which is a small problem, considering that I will still be in Cincinnati teaching, so I had to opt for the fall start date instead. I was super frustrated when I found this out because lately I feel like my life is at a stalemate with not finding another source of income, having to wait to hear news about my dad's job, and waiting for my contract time at work. The frustration has passed and I'm trying to focus on just getting to June.


I booked my flights for my Spring Break '10 trip! I'm super excited. I will be arriving in D.C. on March 31, but going straight from DCA to the train so I can go up to Philly where I will be hanging with Kristina and doing some general sightseeing and...drum roll please...seeing Vampire Weekend at the Electric Factory! AAAHHH. From there I go to NYC to stay with my friend Angela and then I travel back down to D.C. to stay with Kelley and see some other friends. Of course, that's all pending I can get two days off from work (I should be able to, since I can take some personal days). If not...looks like I'm taking a one-way flight back here from NYC. BOO. Hopefully it works out. I got a great deal on the flights and I couldn't pass it up. Rolling the dice a bit, but I don't care. This may be the last time in a long time I will get to see my friends that live in those cities, so I have to do it all. But me visiting them means they have to come see me in the Mile High City...eventually.

When cleaning my room I discovered two things about myself. One is that I have a lot of clothes. The other is that I have a lot of books. Too many, probably, and most of them have been gifts/books I've come across for free. These books were hard to pack away, as there were so many. And as soon as I sealed them up, I found another drawer filled with them. I have problems. I also haven't read all of them and I seem to be accumulating more than I can handle. I'm like a book addict or something.

Speaking of books, I have almost completed the first draft of edits on my NaNoWriMo novel! I have also been writing another in my spare time. Once my first edits are finished, I'm sending it to a friend to read over and give me feedback. I already know a few things I need to change, so I'm sure it will have at least second and third revisions before I'm finally comfortable with it. Strangely enough, I really like this process.

I was also social this weekend. I spent a lot of time with Kelley. I even had beer, pizza and watched football at a friends house on Saturday. This is a strange activity for me, because it's something I really only do for the Superbowl. I'm really going to miss her when she leaves :(

While the weather is pretty gnarly here, and by gnarly I mean ridiculously cold, I'm trying not to dwell on the wintery abyss which dulls any good mood. Instead, I'm trying to focus on the things to look forward to, like my birthday, going to see Spring Awakening, and the Golden Globes (RICKY GERVAIS!). Also, this winter thing can't be all bad because I got a day off of school and two late starts. Thanks, terrible West Side roads and snowy/sleaty/icy weather!

Okay, that's all for me. I'm going to go and finish my letter to my pen pal, Allana, and start my lesson plans.

1 a.m. cabin fever

Oh God, it's past 1 a.m. and I have to work tomorrow. Oh well.

I have noticed that this week, or really, since Christmas break started I have been frustrated a lot. I attribute this frustration to cabin fever resulting from being trapped in this house and being trapped in Cincinnati.

I like cold weather every now and then, but this is ridiculous. I'm freezing almost all the time now and I can't sit in my favorite spot at the dinner table because it's by the window (in unrelated news, people are dying of cancer and extreme poverty). I had gotten into running again, which is hard to do considering there's a lot more of me to drag around then there was in the summer and fall, but in this weather it is literally impossible to run. I'm either running by the river, which is really effing cold, or I'm running into the wind which is also cold and it hurts my face.

I know what you are saying, faithful readers. "Hey Emily, join an indoor gym." Well, easier said than done. First of all, I hate running on a treadmill because it is terribly boring. I'm not a hamster that can stare at the same spot on the wall for hours upon hours. Also, joining and indoor gym costs money and I've already been told by my cousin that the rec center is a rip off and the gym membership is too but sometimes I can find them at a discount.

So all of my pent up frustrations and energy have nowhere to go until the temperature gets above freezing. Sigh. Or until I get some money, which would require me getting one of the zillion jobs I have been trying to apply for. Only, the bad weather makes it difficult to actually physically go to places, and when applying for a job like a waitress it's always nice to see a physical face.

I could get a job babysitting, but, let's be real. At my real job, I do a lot of babysitting, or at least what feels like babysitting when I tell them to "stop poking him/don't eat that/put your feet on the floor/sneeze into your elbow/etc."

I also feel a lot of cabin fever here in Cincinnati. As the months have progressed I have become more and more enraged at the city, at it's drivers, at it's stupid road system and how it literally makes no fucking sense, at it's westside/eastside politics, at it's politics in general, at the obnoxious Bearcats and their equally obnoxious fans, and at it's small town, gossipy nature. I need to get the eff out of here, but I find that extracting myself is going to be difficult. Well, not for me let's say, but for others. People seem to be taking it very personally when I say that I am leaving and I haven't told my principal this yet and he is going to be none too happy. But really, all I promised was a year, it's not a full time job, and I miss Colorado like you wouldn't believe.

Those Internet courses at UC were a waste of my time and my money (which would be nice to have right now!) and, call me old fashioned, but I prefer school with actual people. I feel like I take a lot of steps forward but then sometimes I go backward again. Frustrating, no?

I also feel like everybody in my whole family knows every single thing that I do and it drives me insane. The complete lack of privacy in many ways is probably what is most frustrating to me. I am longing for the days with Danielle where I can play my music whenever I want and I can walk around the house in my slip and no one will care.

It's only the beginning of January and already I feel lost in this wintery abyss and like I'll never see the warm June rays of Colorado. But I KNOW I will. I just can't let these frustrations get to me.

Thank goodness I can pour them out onto the interwebs.

2009: The Year of Growing, YouTube and Eating Alone

My my, it's finally come to an end.

2009 was quite the year, and, for the first time, it was a year that felt like it actually lasted a year. So much happened between January and now and it's hard to really put them all into words.

I think one of the greatest things is the fact that I am in a much better place at the end of the year than I was at the beginning of the year. In January I was on the verge of turning 22, I was surrounding myself with people who were bad for my emotional well-being (and that's all I'm going to say on that subject). I wasn't taking very good care of myself, I had a lot of anxiety. I didn't sleep much and I ate sporadically. I drank a lot. Three nights a week minimum, which is kind of sad. I had finished a terrible semester and had resolved to do better in school. I was pretty unsure of what I wanted to do right after school. I knew I wanted to be a teacher but I wasn't quite sure of how to go about it. I had lots of fun senior year, but it was a true challenge in a lot of ways. I ended my tenure at the student newspaper I loved exhausted, bitter and ready for a change.

When May rolled around, I was ecstatic for graduation. I do not care what others say, I thought graduation was a great day. I was truly proud of myself because I got myself my double-major all on my own. I worked really hard (and I played really hard, too). I spent a lot of the last few weeks of senior week being optimistic about life and being continually grateful for all my friends that made my college experience so memorable.

So now I look at my life at the end of 2009 and how it's very different. For one, I no longer live with four other girls my own age, but instead family members. I get up at 6:20 every week day and go into work. I have to pay cell phone bills, I had to buy health insurance, I had to take my car into the shop numerous times and pay for the repairs myself. That was a huge change. I go to staff meetings. I've watched friends get married, I've watched friends have babies and go through just as many, if not more, changes as me.

Many of my friends moved away, though some did stay. I do not go out three nights a week. Instead, it's usually once a week, maybe twice. I get tired at 10:30. I've become a pro at entertaining myself. I've begun to watch channels on YouTube, I watch prime time TV for the first time in years, I go to the movies by myself. I go out to eat alone, too. I read a lot. I write...hell, I wrote a whole novel in 2009! That's something to be proud of.

Minus the year I went to college, this year has been the biggest year of change in my life, both externally and internally. I picked myself up by my bootstraps and took care of myself before anyone else and that was important for me to do. I graduated with the best grades I ever had. I picked out a lot of weeds, and kept many of the flowers.

And those beautiful, wild, and all around glorious flowers were the friends that stuck with me when I was pretty irritable/emo/frustrated/lost. I've taken my loneliness and have turned it into good things. I'm okay with where I am in my life and where I'm going and to say that at age 22 is pretty awesome.

Every day I get to get up, and that's the part I hate the most, the getting up, mostly because I can never seem to get enough sleep. Once that's over with, I truly enjoy almost every day of my life. I have 40 little "Chostskys" who I love, or at least tolerate, and they have taught me a lot, too. Plus, they always make me smile when I'm having a bad day.

So, I raise my glass to toast to 2009, a year that was a much needed challenge. It's come and gone, and now there's a lot to look forward to. Bring on 2010. Happy New Year, readers!