I have a problem. Well, it's not really a problem, more like a quirk. I have a weird habit of picking up accents wherever I go. It's not, by any means, intentional. In fact, I'd say it's probably a subconscious effort to blend in, if anything. It happened when I was in London last summer. Two friends came to visit (they were in Ireland), and one of them commented on my having a slight accent. I couldn't hear it, but it seems some of my words were a bit more British than American. Ialso had a slight twang after going to Georgia with Gabri last winter. And now, I think the same thing is happening here in New Mexico.
It could probably be helped, if I thought about it consciously and made an effort. Funny thing is, I really don't mind. My only concern is offending people. I made it a point to tell my colleagues where I'm from, and now my students know too. However, if you put me in a room with a group of native New Mexicans, I find myself matching my vowels and accent to theirs ever so slightly. I'm hoping they don't think I'm crazy or attempting to mock them. The sound of the language is so beautiful and unique here- it's not so much a different accent overall, but a different accent on sounds and words. Certain words mean more, so they are more emphasized. Towns and names are pronounced in ways I never would have guessed. I'm an English teacher, and I can't even sound out the name Sradha (it's hard, I assue you. My kids already mock me).
In other news, today is our first day of classes. It is terrifying. I don't have the advantage of observing and studying a seating chart like I did during student teaching. I don't get a list of what to teach from a co-op. It's all on me. First period was rough- the kids, I think, smell new teacher. However, with every step and every instruction, I felt more confident, more sure of myself. Once I have names down, I'll feel much more in control. I'm working on "working the room", a style of walking around students while talking in order to minimize side discussions and texting. My desks are in a U shape with a "stage" area, so I have space to move about. Hoepfully 3rd period will go more smoothly than 1st, and 4th than 3rd... etc. I think this will work, I've just got to keep the kids busy and invovled.
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Monday, August 23, 2010
Adventure is Out There!
**Special thanks to the movie Up! for today's blog title**
First of all, you people should know that the bulk of my time this weekend was designated to watching the entire 4th season of Criminal Minds on DVD. A few notes on the wonder that is this show:
1) Dr. Spencer Reid is my husband. He just doesn't know it yet. Courtesy of a run-in with a magician date my freshman year of high school, I have been averse to all males pawning off magic tricks in an attempt to impress ladies. However, Spencer can show me magic tricks any time.
2) Despite having seen some episodes before, I could watch them again and again because they are incredibly well written and witty.
3) Normally watching this show (1-2 episodes) didn't phase me. However, I now live alone (this is becoming a common theme). Therefore, it seems fate is against me because I always end on an episode where some single woman living alone or walking by herself meets a grisly and untimely end. Not cool. So, of course, I shut off the t.v. and roll over on the couch (where I currently sleep for convenience's sake) and am faced with a giant picture window covered in light curtains which allow shadows to be cast. Not good. I, of course, then imagine I can see two people standing outside my window discussing how they can break in and kill me. These people are, inevitably, nothing more than tree branches that happen to be in the wrong place. Note to self: purchase chain saw.
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Ok, now on to life. Many of you will be proud to know that I had my first "chili" run-in today! The infamous "red or green" question presented itself when Candy (you will hear much about her. She is my first New Mexico friend) took me to Rocket's Cafe for lunch. Now, I could have caved and gone with my typical standby of pasta, but I felt emboldened by my surroundings and went for the tostadas. These delicious little nibblers came with the choice of red or green chili sauce on the side, so I went for the green. Holy tamale Batman!!! It was definitely not what I was expecting and my digestive system was effectively cleansed after a mere spoonful on my first tostada. Candy laughed at me, but she did confess that the green chili was "a bit hotter today than usual". Candy is, of course, a native New Mexican, so hot stuff was, as she put it, "fed to her in the womb." Thanks, Mom, for neglecting that part of my culinary education while I was in utero. I appreciate having no spicy food tolerance... (*sarcasm alert. Here is my sarcasm sign). I feel that, given enough time, I might be able to build up to eating spicier food. It's a pity the average human lifespan is only 80 years. With the wasted 24 down, I fear I might not ever get beyond Taco Bell mild sauce.
First of all, you people should know that the bulk of my time this weekend was designated to watching the entire 4th season of Criminal Minds on DVD. A few notes on the wonder that is this show:
1) Dr. Spencer Reid is my husband. He just doesn't know it yet. Courtesy of a run-in with a magician date my freshman year of high school, I have been averse to all males pawning off magic tricks in an attempt to impress ladies. However, Spencer can show me magic tricks any time.
2) Despite having seen some episodes before, I could watch them again and again because they are incredibly well written and witty.
3) Normally watching this show (1-2 episodes) didn't phase me. However, I now live alone (this is becoming a common theme). Therefore, it seems fate is against me because I always end on an episode where some single woman living alone or walking by herself meets a grisly and untimely end. Not cool. So, of course, I shut off the t.v. and roll over on the couch (where I currently sleep for convenience's sake) and am faced with a giant picture window covered in light curtains which allow shadows to be cast. Not good. I, of course, then imagine I can see two people standing outside my window discussing how they can break in and kill me. These people are, inevitably, nothing more than tree branches that happen to be in the wrong place. Note to self: purchase chain saw.
__________________________________________________________________________
Ok, now on to life. Many of you will be proud to know that I had my first "chili" run-in today! The infamous "red or green" question presented itself when Candy (you will hear much about her. She is my first New Mexico friend) took me to Rocket's Cafe for lunch. Now, I could have caved and gone with my typical standby of pasta, but I felt emboldened by my surroundings and went for the tostadas. These delicious little nibblers came with the choice of red or green chili sauce on the side, so I went for the green. Holy tamale Batman!!! It was definitely not what I was expecting and my digestive system was effectively cleansed after a mere spoonful on my first tostada. Candy laughed at me, but she did confess that the green chili was "a bit hotter today than usual". Candy is, of course, a native New Mexican, so hot stuff was, as she put it, "fed to her in the womb." Thanks, Mom, for neglecting that part of my culinary education while I was in utero. I appreciate having no spicy food tolerance... (*sarcasm alert. Here is my sarcasm sign). I feel that, given enough time, I might be able to build up to eating spicier food. It's a pity the average human lifespan is only 80 years. With the wasted 24 down, I fear I might not ever get beyond Taco Bell mild sauce.
Saturday, August 21, 2010
Scare Myself Silly
There are moments when, in the middle of an activity or moment, you realize what you are doing is completely idiotic and you question your sanity. Yesterday, I had one such moment. After a wonderfully tiring day of moving into my classroom, hanging pictures, driving to Arizona (will be explained later), and shopping for groceries, I decided a quiet evening watching movies was in order.
Another teacher, Candy, has been kind enough to feed me and aid me in my moments of panic, and while I was at her house yesterday for lunch, she showed me her movie collection and created a pile of "must-see movies" for me. I took two of them home with me to watch this weekend. Now, if you know nothing else about me, you must realize this: I am afraid of hot food (it burns...) and I HATE scary movies. Why anyone would willingly subject themselves of an hour and a half of terror for entertainment's sake is beyond me. Not only that, but scary movies are, by definition, meant to SCARE you, so the residual effects of the movie extend way beyond the initial 1.5 hours of fear. Pointless, I say. But, I digress...
One of the movies she gave me was "Copycat" starring Sigourney Weaver and Holly Hunter. Basic rundown: psycho-analyst turned agoraphobe courtesy of a life-threatening experience has to assist the San Fran PD solve a serial killer mystery. Toss in some gruesome deaths, scary music, creepy villain, and unexpected "jump out of your seat" moments, and you've got yourself a grade A thriller designed to turn me into a scared little girl. So what do I do? I decide at 9 at night out in the desert in a house by myself to watch this movie. WHAT ON EARTH WAS I THINKING????? Oh wait, I wasn't. That explains it.
Needless to say, I had to pop in a more family friendly movie after Copycat was over (I couldn't not watch it...). The sounds of Ratatouille soothed me to sleep after a quick run-through of the house and strategic placement of boxes in front of the doors so I'd heard someone break in. I know, it's pathetic. But you try living by yourself on top of a mountain-hill in the desert, and then you can talk to me.
Now, to explain the Arizona adventure. I found out only a day before I moved that the one thing New Mexico lacked was a Chase bank. There are none in the state. At all. The nearest one is a lovely 1.5 hrs away in Show Low, AZ, and so I hopped in my car yesterday afternoon and drove the 120 miles to my bank so that I wouldn't get charged any fees and so I could deposit a check. Objective number one on my list right now is to switch to a closer bank... soon. However, should I remain at Chase, I don't think I'll mind the trek all that much. The drive was wonderfully simple and afforded me some of the best views the Southwest has to offer. Arizona is much greener than where I am living, and I had the pleasure of driving through a mini storm which just served to make the landscape even more breath taking and stunning. This place is an artist's dream, and if I possessed even an ounce of talent with a brush, I would be outside for hours at a time trying to capture it. I will try to take some pictures so that the people back home can see what I see, and maybe then you'll understand why I gave up everything and moved out west.
Thursday, August 19, 2010
A Week of Firsts
This week has been a week of firsts. Primarily, it is my first time living by myself, first time in my own house, first "adult" job... it is, to say the least, overwhelming in its wonderful-ness. There is something eerie about living alone in a house by yourself, especially the first night. Not knowing the noises or the way the light filters through the windows can put a person ill at ease. It also does not help that I have had a perpetual fear of coming home and finding someone in my house/apartment who proceeds to rape/attack/kill me. Ridiculous, I know, but for someone who has lived with 4-5 other people all her life, it is quite a relevant and realistic fear. It did not help that the first night I was home (Monday), there was a large rainstorm with rolling thunder. Every clap of thunder or rumble afterwards caused me to jump and scan the room nervously, expecting danger to jump out of my closet or from the next room.
I suppose, to help with visualization, I should describe my house since no one I know has actually been there. It's a rustic white, one-story ranch house with a small front porch shaded by a tree (breed of which I do not know). The front door, situated on the right, leads into a living room which features a very 1970's style brown carpet that must be a cousin of the ever popular shag carpet. To the left is my dining room, currently featuring a card table and two fold out chairs. Through an archway is my kitchen, one of the best rooms of the house. I have lamented wood floors (you know... fake), a brand new electric stove, and cute wooden cupboards lining the walls. Straight through the kitchen is my laundry room, complete with washer and dryer. Through a door on the right wall of the kitchen is my study. The carpet is a mottled mix of orange, green, and tan (again, very 1970's), and there's a wonderful shelving unit on one wall which now houses pictures and souvenirs from my travels. If you turn immediately right, you run into my bathroom which has a girl's dream: a wall of shelves and cubbies for storage. Finally, through another door, is my bedroom which I have yet to sleep in. It currently is home to my shoes and clothes as I am comfortable on the convertible couch in the living room (which is connected by a door to the bedroom). So, in essence, my house is a rectangle. It's relatively small, but I love it and feel comfortable there.
The school I will be teaching at is still in its final construction stages, and for the last 4 days the teachers have been barred from the building because the fire marshall has yet to approve it. So, my room remains barren and bland, screaming out for color and wall decorations. I hear its cries, but I am powerless to help. Instead of moving in, the district has kept us busy with random (and sometimes pointless) morning meetings that inevitably end early and leave me with hours and hours of free time. So far said free time has been spent watching 6 movies, writing classroom expectations, and creating "Ms. McLinden's Top Ten Reasons for Not Allowing Cell Phones in Class" list. I am a fan of #4, which reads: "Unless monkeys are taking over or aliens are invading, there is no emergency so massive that it cannot wait 50 min. And I assure you, if such an emergency occurs, I will know before you." Most of the other reasons are just as ridiculous, but it helps to break the ice.
I suppose, to help with visualization, I should describe my house since no one I know has actually been there. It's a rustic white, one-story ranch house with a small front porch shaded by a tree (breed of which I do not know). The front door, situated on the right, leads into a living room which features a very 1970's style brown carpet that must be a cousin of the ever popular shag carpet. To the left is my dining room, currently featuring a card table and two fold out chairs. Through an archway is my kitchen, one of the best rooms of the house. I have lamented wood floors (you know... fake), a brand new electric stove, and cute wooden cupboards lining the walls. Straight through the kitchen is my laundry room, complete with washer and dryer. Through a door on the right wall of the kitchen is my study. The carpet is a mottled mix of orange, green, and tan (again, very 1970's), and there's a wonderful shelving unit on one wall which now houses pictures and souvenirs from my travels. If you turn immediately right, you run into my bathroom which has a girl's dream: a wall of shelves and cubbies for storage. Finally, through another door, is my bedroom which I have yet to sleep in. It currently is home to my shoes and clothes as I am comfortable on the convertible couch in the living room (which is connected by a door to the bedroom). So, in essence, my house is a rectangle. It's relatively small, but I love it and feel comfortable there.
The school I will be teaching at is still in its final construction stages, and for the last 4 days the teachers have been barred from the building because the fire marshall has yet to approve it. So, my room remains barren and bland, screaming out for color and wall decorations. I hear its cries, but I am powerless to help. Instead of moving in, the district has kept us busy with random (and sometimes pointless) morning meetings that inevitably end early and leave me with hours and hours of free time. So far said free time has been spent watching 6 movies, writing classroom expectations, and creating "Ms. McLinden's Top Ten Reasons for Not Allowing Cell Phones in Class" list. I am a fan of #4, which reads: "Unless monkeys are taking over or aliens are invading, there is no emergency so massive that it cannot wait 50 min. And I assure you, if such an emergency occurs, I will know before you." Most of the other reasons are just as ridiculous, but it helps to break the ice.
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
On the road to greatness
Driving 14 hours in a car by yourself is, to say the least, an adventure. By hour 3 I had named my GPS "Lulu" and had begun to talk to her... or perhaps at her, since she doesn't really respond. I named her thus because she has a British accent and whenever she gives me directions, I get a little thrill saying "will do, Lulu."
Insanity is not inherited- it must be bred out of necessity and cultivated by lack of comradeship.
Having been on the road for 14+ hours, I made the wise decision to stop at a hotel. I kept pushing myself, insisting that I would stop when I reached 950 miles or when it was 11:00pm home (Ohio) time... the excuses kept coming. Finally, I passed a hotel that featured wireless, a pool/hot tub, air conditioning, and a relatively decent price of 39.95. Sadly, I did not stop, because Lulu insisted that my exit was 127C even though the only exit in existence was 127A. Bad Lulu. I ended up on a toll road (something which I had sworn to avoid) and managed to drive another hour only to find myself stopping at an over-priced (ok, so it was only 41.99) hotel with no pool and no continental breakfast. However, I made the best of my situation by taking 2 bars of soap and 1 role of toilet paper from the hotel to stock my new house.
By the end of the day, my right leg had begun to spasm, and I could actually feel it twitching as I drove. Being the resourceful person I am, I switched to driving with my left leg- not an easy feat when your entire 4 door sedan is packed tight with boxes and your right leg now has no where to go. Imagine if you will the scene of me sitting in the driver's seat, left leg extended and pressing down on the gas pedal while the right leg is situated underneath being used as a prop to help the left leg remain stable. Meanwhile, I am using my right hand to take pictures while I drive with only my left. All of this, mind you, is being done on a highway with a speed limit of 70mph. I am, of course, going a healthy 75.
Day two began at 6:30 in the morning (7:30 OH time) because I couldn't sleep any later due to the fact that my body insisted I get up. I left the hotel hungry (darn you Super 8 and your lack of continental breakfast!!) and drove as many miles as possible until my stomach began to digest itself then stopped for gas and ate a burger I had purchased the day before (yay brunch at 8:30 am!).
Through all of this, I managed to see quite a bit of the US: Indianapolis, St. Louis, David Cook's hometown (the 2008 American Idol... not sure what town), most of Kansas (including the town where Dorothy's house is- I drove on the 'yellow brick road'. No, there were no yellow bricks), the panhandle of Oklahoma, the top of Texas, and across the entire state of New Mexico. I never thought that I would see so much and in such a short amount of time. I suppose the word adventure really does cover it all quite nicely. Now I am officially moved into my own house (eek!) and am beginning my lesson planning and preparation. Who knows what adventures (or misadventures) will follow. Hopefully many.
Insanity is not inherited- it must be bred out of necessity and cultivated by lack of comradeship.
Having been on the road for 14+ hours, I made the wise decision to stop at a hotel. I kept pushing myself, insisting that I would stop when I reached 950 miles or when it was 11:00pm home (Ohio) time... the excuses kept coming. Finally, I passed a hotel that featured wireless, a pool/hot tub, air conditioning, and a relatively decent price of 39.95. Sadly, I did not stop, because Lulu insisted that my exit was 127C even though the only exit in existence was 127A. Bad Lulu. I ended up on a toll road (something which I had sworn to avoid) and managed to drive another hour only to find myself stopping at an over-priced (ok, so it was only 41.99) hotel with no pool and no continental breakfast. However, I made the best of my situation by taking 2 bars of soap and 1 role of toilet paper from the hotel to stock my new house.
By the end of the day, my right leg had begun to spasm, and I could actually feel it twitching as I drove. Being the resourceful person I am, I switched to driving with my left leg- not an easy feat when your entire 4 door sedan is packed tight with boxes and your right leg now has no where to go. Imagine if you will the scene of me sitting in the driver's seat, left leg extended and pressing down on the gas pedal while the right leg is situated underneath being used as a prop to help the left leg remain stable. Meanwhile, I am using my right hand to take pictures while I drive with only my left. All of this, mind you, is being done on a highway with a speed limit of 70mph. I am, of course, going a healthy 75.
Day two began at 6:30 in the morning (7:30 OH time) because I couldn't sleep any later due to the fact that my body insisted I get up. I left the hotel hungry (darn you Super 8 and your lack of continental breakfast!!) and drove as many miles as possible until my stomach began to digest itself then stopped for gas and ate a burger I had purchased the day before (yay brunch at 8:30 am!).
Through all of this, I managed to see quite a bit of the US: Indianapolis, St. Louis, David Cook's hometown (the 2008 American Idol... not sure what town), most of Kansas (including the town where Dorothy's house is- I drove on the 'yellow brick road'. No, there were no yellow bricks), the panhandle of Oklahoma, the top of Texas, and across the entire state of New Mexico. I never thought that I would see so much and in such a short amount of time. I suppose the word adventure really does cover it all quite nicely. Now I am officially moved into my own house (eek!) and am beginning my lesson planning and preparation. Who knows what adventures (or misadventures) will follow. Hopefully many.
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