into the wild blue yonder.

ok, so i have something completely tragic to admit.

i am a reader of fan fiction.

i don't admit this to many people in person--actually, i've only admitted it to one individual thus far. however, i truly enjoy reading it.

i've tried writing it...but it turns out that i am not a writer of the fan fiction. simply an avid consumer.

now, while i may not be a very good writer of fan fiction as it applies to television and books, i am a fan or writing just plain old fiction. in fact, as i have mentioned before, this is a dream i've had for a long time: to write fiction.

as i continue to explore the world of fan fiction, i'm more and more drawn to these short stand-alone pieces that are often referred to as "DRABBLES."

according to fan fiction lingo, a drabble is traditionally a work 100 words or less, but any short piece can be considered one.

i think i'm drawn to these brief pieces because i have such commitment phobia when it comes to anything and everything i ever set out to do.

so i've decided to write fiction drabbles. maybe someday i'll write a piece of fan fiction. who knows? but until then, i'll write whatever comes to mind.

we'll see how this plays out.

Untitled zombie poem.

Silence outside.
Too much silence.
Silence meant it was only a
matter of time.

Better get it over with
he told himself.

He flings open the door.
Sunlight pours in,
like lemonade into a crystal glass.

So does the zombie.

He's waited for this moment
and now there's no more time for waiting.

Quick as a cobra,
he lunges,
sword in hand.

It takes only a second,
and the zombie
is a jumbled heap on the floor--
a broken pile of something
that used to be.

Now gone.

Sailing Away

I remember that first time you left.
You left for the Outback--Down Under.
And I imagined you in strange, far off lands--
places where the water in the toilets supposedly spun backward.

When I was young,
Your trips home eclipsed everything else.

You were my North Star.
Even when I couldn't see you, I felt your presence
and knew you were always there.

You spent so much of your time sailing away.
Always leaving me back on shore,
waving goodbye long after you were out of sight.

It gets old, after awhile.
Waving after someone who never looks back.

As I got older, the world got smaller.
The oceans between us shrank to
puddles of no consequence.

And still you stayed away.

I realize now that you're only human.
Just like me.

And that even though you were always sailing away,
I never once tried to stop you.

maybe.

maybe if i close my eyes
the ache will stop
the tears will dry
and i will just move on.

maybe if i hold you close
that pain inside
that no one knows
will wither and move on.

maybe if i shut my mouth
the truth will never
wander out
i'll forget and i'll move on.

maybe if my heart just stills
this life that shatters
and that thrills
will finish me and then move on.

in vain

forgive me each and every word
that's died upon my tongue
the ones held fast behind my teeth
on which my heart's been hung

forgive me every sinful thought
for control is hard to grasp
and it seems that for each aberration
it's harder to win back

forgive my lack of discipline
my mind falters, as you see
and it often leads me places
where i truly should not be

forgive me for the things i want
but never let me have
forgive me for those things on which i think
but fail to act

forgive me my compassion
when i've used it as a shield
another prop to hide behind
for every sword they wield

forgive me for this thing i'm thinking
appealing as it is
life does not smile fondly on
a foot placed so amiss

i find it odd that though i plead for mercy
it won't help
for the sole forgiveness that i seek
is only from myself

i wanted

i wanted to think of a poem to write
whose theme would not seem one a million have tried.

i wanted to think of a jumble of sound
that would mean something not nothing and would strongly resound.

i wanted to write of the way that i feel
but my thoughts are just spots of emotion unreal.

i wanted to say that i love you.
maybe i should have just stuck with that.

cut.

there's something in the words you say
that makes me think you're not okay
how much life do you wish to drown?
give up now and come back down

i fear you disregard me
criticize my naivety
i apologize if i've misled
i see things clearly

not everyone can see the cuts
but each one's there--a separate rut

how very sad and tragic
that underneath this hype
i most fear you're far past saving
and i'm not the saving type

Another ocean metaphor.

I do so good, you know?

It’s been a while
since the last big wave came along.
No need to look over my shoulder
every time I feel a cool breeze
just to make sure
the winds haven’t changed.

Sometimes
it’s so good
I almost think I can see the shore.
(I can’t, of course, but I am a master at fooling myself.)

It’s not as bad out here
as I thought.
I’m getting used to treading water.
I don’t even mind the burn in my lungs
anymore.

It’s not the same.
(It never will be.)
But there are mermaids and manatees to talk to.
And when they’re off
doing their own thing
the silence isn’t as deafening
as it used to be.
I rather like the sound
of the ocean moving around me.
Past me.

I never thought I would.

But then you come along.
Sneak up on me
silent as a shark.
It’s a quick struggle.

I find myself being dragged under again.

new kid.

got a new kid today. he walked in, just as we were getting settled in to take a mock state assessment.

i had no idea he would be coming.

i never do.

i'm sure he's a lovely kid. i haven't gotten a chance to really interact with him, but i felt angry that upon his arrival i felt shock and frustration, rather than welcoming. unfortunately, this is how it always is.

i checked my email, and sure enough, 4 minutes before he walked through my door, THIS little gem popped into my inbox:

Good morning,

We have a new student.

i've got so many reasons WHY.

but this is just one more reason WHY NOT.

why is this my life?

let me set the scene:

i've just finished an hour long TELPAS training that i found out about at the last minute and is due tomorrow. i get through the online training with no problems because it's easy, i'm competent, and i did it last year and most things stick with me.

L walks into the room with a resource binder for me, just as i'm finishing up.

i look up briefly to greet her and then look back down at the computer screen...only to realize that my certificate (proving i've successfully finished the training) has disappeared. and i didn't print it. or save it. or anything it.

"NO!"

thankfully, L has already done the training as well. with her help, i find a way to retrieve the certificate.

unfortunately, it pops up in PDF format, opened by Adobe Acrobat.

"just save it and send it to him," L says (HIM being our administrator).

"i can't! i don't have enough time to save it!" i say, immediately hitting CTR-P to print the document.

why don't i have time to save it? well, that would be because my computer doesn't appropriately support Adobe Acrobat, and so any document i open using it immediately closes after just 5 seconds. so all i have time for is hitting CTR-P as quickly as possible.

i am successful! the document is sent to the printer just as Adobe Acrobat shuts down, taking my certificate with it.

i look up at L. "why is this my life?"

"seriously. i want a CTR-Z. ON MY LIFE."

"more like a CTR-ALT-DEL." that's our social studies teacher, walking by at the most opportune moment.

and you know what? he's right. a CTR-ALT-DEL sounds AWESOME. this program is no longer responding. it's time to abandon ship. (please excuse my mixed metaphors.) i love the kids, but the last two years have been HELL.

days like these remind me i need to be moving on to greener pastures. especially when our fearless leader sends us emails like this:

Dear All,

With my apology we need to postpone our training to next week.

I feel myself very tired and exhausted , because of this week’s test schedules and preparing materials.

yep. this is my life.

"You're only young once,

they say, but doesn't it go on for a long time?

More years than you can bear."

Hilary Mantel, An Experiment in Love

recent readings.

about a month ago, our charter school's headquarters (that sounds so secret agency, and it's so, so far from it...) sent us lucky middle school English teachers a huge shipment of fiction and non-fiction books for our classroom libraries.

needless to say, we were pretty stoked.

we got so many books that i haven't really had time to sift through most of them, so i've been relying on student recommendations.

on Tuesday, one of my 8th graders had this book lying on her desk:

A Monster Calls
by Patrick Ness
inspired by an idea from Siobhan Dowd

one glance at the cover, and i was intrigued.

a look inside revealed to me that there were GORGEOUS illustrations on almost every other page. i immediately knew i had to read this book. i asked my student about it, and she assured me that even though she was only a little ways in, it was already fantastic. she had finished it up by Thursday morning, and turned it back in so that i could read it.

i devoured it in a day, and it was MAGNIFICENT.

i've never read anything by Patrick Ness before, but he's definitely on my radar now.

it's about a teenage boy whose mother is dying from cancer. the boy, Conor, has a recurring nightmare that he is afraid to admit, even to himself. he also has hallucinations where he talks to a giant monster made out of a yew tree. it's bizarre, but in the most wonderful way. it's also incredibly touching. HIGHLY RECOMMENDED. at our in-service meeting last Friday, another book was brought to my attention:

The Fault in Our Stars
by John Green

now, i have long been a fan of John Green.

it was a couple of years ago that i read An Abundance of Katherines, but i'll never forget how zany and brilliant the main character was. in fact, all of the characters were fantastically written. i couldn't put it down.

and then i read Looking for Alaska.

Looking for Alaska changed the way i think about Young Adult Fiction, because for the first time, i knew that YA fiction had the ability to be witty and exhilarating and devastating all at the same time. John Green was all of these things and so much more.

i'd been steeped in sappy YA novels for so long that Alaska was a breath of much needed fresh air. again, the main character was brilliant. again, the other characters were fantastic. but it was just so...raw. and i hate when people throw that word around...but there's really no other way to describe it. Alaska made me feel as though my heart had been ripped open and exposed to the world, and no realistic fiction YA book had made me feel that way in quite some time. not since Markus Zusak's The Book Thief, which is more historical fiction anyway.

so when i heard that John Green's NEW BOOK was stupendous, i made it a mission to read it immediately.

that same evening, it was purchased and sitting on my bedroom dresser.

i just started reading it today, but it's already making me laugh aloud (i'm sure the cashier at Jason's Deli thinks i'm a little insane, because i was reading and giggling hysterically while waiting for my sandwich...) and sigh with romantic notions.

i'm already anticipating a hurricane of tears to come.

this is what i want to do with my life.

on writing for a living...

"My dad, a janitor all of his life, once asked me what I did for a living, since he had noticed that I didn't go out to work. I gave him a long story about characterization, plot, outlining, etc. I just didn't feel right saying that all I did was write down my daydreams."

-walter dean myers

after weak days

come strong days.

at least there's that.

reason #2:

today, while grading a student's reading response to To Kill a Mockingbird, i found this little gem:

"Everybody in this book is kinda racist. Actually, pretty much everybody today is racist.

My whole group told me that it would get better eventually if I keep reading. To be honest, I wasn't gonna read it; I was gonna sparknotes it. But no I didn't! I knew that doing that is cheating and that Ms. Salinas wouldn't be proud!

...Atticus is defending a black guy named Tom Robinson. Tom is accused of raping Mayella Ewell. In the beginning of the court, everything wasn't too exciting or interesting.

Later on as I keep reading, Atticus was like PWNING Mayella by asking a series of questions."

that's right. that's why Atticus is my favorite literary character of ALL TIME.

because he PWNS.

and also, because i can't resist:

life lesson 2:

don't spoil the ending.

so, the kids are currently in the middle of a book club cycle.

this basically means that groups of 3 to 5 students are reading the same book. the kids read the book throughout the week and have a page schedule that they're required to keep up with. on Friday, the groups meet to talk about their book.

the most common occurring problem (and the most frustrating one, as far as i can tell), is that some kids insist on reading ahead.

i warned the students at the start of our book clubs that reading ahead would make their Friday meetings more difficult--they'd be tempted to tell the other students what happens next, and they wouldn't be able to participate in discussion as fully.

it just really helps when everyone is on the same page--figuratively AND literally.

anyway, i have groups in a couple different classes that are reading The Outsiders. as you may be aware, i STRONGLY advocate this book's use in middle school classrooms. i've never met a kid who didn't finish the book once starting it. they love the violence, the action, and especially the fact that these kids feel like outsiders--which is a pretty common feeling among middle schoolers.

in one of my 8th grade classes is one such group reading The Outsiders. this group is made up of ALL BOYS, which i was VERY worried about. but i said, "you know what? they all picked the same book. i told them i'd group them according to their book choice, and i'm going to stick with that."

i'm still not sure if this was a good idea.

but it IS highly amusing.

last Friday, we met as scheduled.

i was walking around the room, poking my nose into the other groups' conversations to see how they were faring. i took my eyes off that Outsiders group for ONE minute, and when i looked back, it was like i was seeing a flashback from my dysfunctional family's last Thanksgiving dinner. two of the boys were on the ground under the table, one was curled up in the corner of the room, and the other two were having a heated debate in the midst of it all.

i took a deep breath and made my way over to conquer the chaos.

i'm almost there when i get stopped by the To Kill a Mockingbird group. i'm trying to clear up some confusion when suddenly, one of the two boys who was just under the Outsiders table, Sam, crawls toward me on all four and continues crawling around my feet in counter-clockwise circles. i look up at the rest of the class, which has gone eerily silent. we're ALL trying to figure out what the heck is going on.

i look over at the other Outsiders boys and raise an eyebrow. "okay. what happened?"

Andrew (the other boy under the table) clears it up. he gestures toward the two having the heated discussion. "Chris and John finished the book. and they're talking about the ending. but we're not there yet!"

i looked from Andrew to Chris and John (who had stopped talking and had joined the rest of the class in watching Sam crawl around) and finally looked at Sam once more (he was on his third lap around my feet by this time...) before addressing the class.

"guys, let this be a lesson to us all. you DON'T SPOIL THE BOOK for your friends! look! they BROKE Sam!"

it took a little coaxing to get the group to agree not to spoil any more of the book for anybody. the conversation was put on hold until everyone could catch up, and the crisis was averted. but later, i laughed. a lot.

reason #1

of why i love teaching:

yesterday was valentine's day.

obviously, this comes as no surprise. however, it was the first valentine's day i've spent single in 6 and a half years.

my fiance broke my heart this past september when he decided that we were no longer making each other happy.

the thing is, he was right. and honestly, i have to be thankful that he decided to call it quits. because i don't know that i would have ever been strong enough to do so myself.

we broke up for a lot of reasons. but that's another story for another time.

anyway. a group of my seventh graders decided to have a "Singles Party" in honor of their single status on valentine's. i agreed to host the shindig in my classroom during lunchtime. it mostly consisted of them talking and eating too many sugary foods.

at one point, the girl who organized the party decided to make a toast of sorts: "here's to being single! all of us in the room, except for Ms. Salinas, are single."

i cleared my throat. "actually..."

they got the drift.

in an attempt to comfort me, the only male student in attendance gestured toward me and said, "the reason Ms. Salinas can't find the perfect man is because she's more perfect than all of them."

who needs a significant other when i've got 90+ students who light up my life on a daily basis?

follow up.

today in class, my reluctant reader (the one who just started reading The Hunger Games) asked me the following:

"miss...does Peeta really love Katniss? or is it a lie?"

i replied along the lines of, "sorry! can't tell you that."

after a few more unsuccessful attempts to get me to reveal Peeta's true feelings, he says:

"fine. but if this book doesn't end the way i want it to, i'm going to burn it."

i completely understand. sometimes, you just want it all to go the way YOU want it to go.

<3 peeta.

reluctant readers.

i have this kid in my homeroom class.

like any other 8th grade boys, he thinks he's just about the coolest thing since sliced bread.

last year, he was in one of my 7th grade classes, so this is our second year together. last year, he NEVER read. i tried so hard to find him a book that would engage him! in my school's district, we're putting Balanced Literacy into practice. Balanced Literacy basically means that the kids get to choose their own books--we've completely done away with the whole-class novel, which is pretty refreshing. the kids are all expected to have a book of their own choice that they read on a daily basis. Balanced Literacy ALSO means that we spend 50 percent of our time in English doing genuine reading and writing. this is pretty great as well, because i KNOW that my kids are reading and writing. heck! they're doing it right in front of my eyes!

anyway, back to this student. last year, i searched high and low for a book that would hold his interest. but daily, i found myself watching him simply pass his eyes over the words in whatever book he'd picked up that day, never actually enjoying any of it.

for an english teacher, this is the most frustrating thing in the world.

i LOVE books! i want all of my students to love them too! but sometimes, being excited about reading is just not enough to get a kid excited about it as well.

hence my struggle to find him the perfect book.

last year, i finally gave him Where the Red Fern Grows. i loved this book as a kid and read it frequently even as an adult. i hoped that the dogs/hunting/wilderness factor would draw him in. and it DID!

last year, he finished Where the Red Fern Grows. and then, during Teacher Appreciation Week, i found a card from him in my Teacher Appreciation mailbox (a large envelope stapled outside my classroom door). the card read:

Miss,

Thank you for helping me finish my first book ever.

i read that card, and immediately teared up.

so this year! i decided that i would help this student continue cultivating a love for reading. we were off to a good start! he'd finally finished a book! i knew that he could at least finish another one!

the year started off rocky. he chose a book at the beginning of the year--a survival story of some sort by Gary Paulsen--and managed to finish it! and then a month went by and i was seeing a repeat performance of last year. every morning he came in, picked up a random book and let his eyes glaze over the words within. but he wasn't engaged.

so i made some suggestions. how about this one? nope. this one looks good! nope. another Gary Paulsen, perhaps? nopers.

so i recommended the one book i knew he would never be able to resist.

and you know what? he loved it.

thus began a harrowing journey into the land of books for my little reluctant reader. Lemony Snicket's A Series of Unfortunate Events had just become pretty popular among a handful of my homeroom kids, and he picked up the first one and powered through that next. then the second one. when he'd finished The Wide Window (#3!), i asked if he'd like to continue on with number four.

"nah, miss. i think i want to read something else."

well, okay then!

he searched for a couple of days, trying a few things out. and then one day...

i held my breath as he chose a copy of The Hunger Games from the shelf. i didn't want to spook him by voicing my enthusiasm outright. it was like watching a fawn creep into your yard for a bite of grass--i felt like if i even looked directly at it, he would get gun-shy and run away with his tail between his legs. so i waited. and i waited.

a couple of days into him reading the book, i stopped by his desk and pointed at it while his table was in the middle of some group work. "oh! The Hunger Games!" i said as casually as i could muster (don't mess it up! don't mess it up!) "that's a great book. kids killing kids, you know--lots of good stuff. you're going to really enjoy it."

what i really wanted to do was dance a jig.

two weeks later.

we're in the computer lab. the kids are working on a final draft of a piece of writing they've been creating for a couple of weeks, and i hear this same kid, trying to be the cool 8th grader he believes he has to be, say, "yeah, well, reading's not that great anyway."

i stop by his computer desk. "are you honestly saying you're not enjoying The Hunger Games?"

he looked up at me with the most sheepish eyes i'd ever seen.

i didn't push it, because i knew he was just trying to look cool.

fast forward to this Tuesday.

we're having some of our genuine reading time in class. the kids are spread around the classroom, some in desks, some sprawled out on the floor (they're allowed to get comfy when we're reading), and this particular student is sitting in a desk where i can clearly see both him and his book. he's about halfway through, and so far, no signs of stopping.

all of a sudden, he says, "WHAT!?" really loudly.

it's EXTREMELY quiet, like i said. so naturally, everyone looks up.

they soon realize that nothing of consequence is happening and go back to their own novels.

but i see this moment for what it truly is.

this student--this reluctant reader of mine--has just had such a visceral reaction to a BOOK that he literally yelled at it!

he makes eye contact with me, and i see that sheepish look come back. he knows he's enjoying this book. and he knows i know it too.

"what part are you at?" i ask quietly.

he tells me that he's just finished part one. "Peeta just said he's in love with Katniss."

ah, yes. i remember that part clear as day. i'm pretty sure that wherever i was when i read that same page, i too yelled out, "WHAT!?"

but that moment, when this student of mine, who read his first book EVER last year yelled at a book...

well, that is EXACTLY the kind of moment that i live for.

that kind of moment makes it all worth it.

PS: thank you Suzanne Collins. thank you for writing a trilogy that draws in even the most reluctant of readers. <3

love:

this new blog

HEY GIRL!

designed specifically to give us teachers that extra little bit of encouragement we need.

especially when we've had a rough week and all we want is to go home, drink a bottle of wine, and congratulate ourselves on not killing any children yet.

this happens to be my personal favorite:

but i'll take this as well:

movie adapatations.

so, this past weekend was the weekend of movie adaptations.

on friday, i got home (from my halfpricebooks binge) and my sister mentioned that One for the Money had just come out that day.

now, if you don't know anything about One for the Money or the book series it's based on, here's a quick update: One for the Money is the title of the first Stephanie Plum novel, a series of which there are currently 18 novels, written by Janet Evanovich. Stephanie Plum is a jersey chick who just can't get it together. she's been laid off, her car has been repo-ed, and since she has no other options, she goes to work for her cousin Vinnie. Vinnie is sexually depraved, but he also runs a bail bonds place. Stephanie Plum begins working for him as a bounty hunter, and hilarity ensues.

i adore these books.

i have been reading about Stephanie Plum's adventures in the art of bounty hunt since i was a freshman in high school, when i picked up my very first copy of One for the Money. since then, Evanovich has been pumping out Stephanie Plum novel after Stephanie Plum novel. i just bought the latest, #18:

Explosive Eighteen
by Janet Evanovich

needless to say, when i heard that they were making a Stephanie Plum MOVIE, i went berserk.

this was going to be great! Stephanie Plum???! a movie???! i couldn't even IMAGINE how funny it would be! the books are hysterical (i used to read them up in my bedroom when i lived back home with my mom, and Al would hear me laughing and knock on my door to make sure i wasn't having some kind of fit or something). i honestly couldn't wait to see it.

then i heard who would be playing Stephanie Plum. now, i don't have anything against Katherine Heigl, but i just didn't SEE IT. i simply could not picture this blonde Grey's Anatomy alum playing my favorite of comedic heroines. i just couldn't. but we gave it a try, me and Al (she's been a fan of the books for a few years now)...and our fears were confirmed.

it was a cute movie, don't get me wrong. but that's all it was. the books live in an atmosphere of hyper-reality where nothing is very realistic (even though it's realistic fiction) and everything is hyperbole.

the movie...was just a romantic comedy.

but i wanted SO MUCH MORE from it.

there's this last bit at the end, though. and man. that one MOMENT is gold. i don't want to give too much away, but the main male lead shows up at Katherine Heigl's (i refuse to call her Stephanie Plum, because she is NOT) door and says, "i saw this and thought of you." he then proceeds to hold up a cupcake.

i'll admit it. i melted. in the end, those damn cupcakes always get me. cupcakes and cheesy lines.

well, the NEXT night, i had plans to go see Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close.

i'd read the novel this past june on my family's 27 hour drive from Houston to Gary, Indiana, and it had completely stolen my heart. i don't even think i can do justice to the book in a summary. you really just have to read it.

Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close
Jonathan Safran Foer

the main character is a young boy whose father died in the 9/11 tragedy. the boy, whose name is Oskar, feels that he is beginning to lose the connection he had with his father, whom he loved dearly, and while going through his father's belongings, finds a small key. Oskar embarks on a journey through New York City to find the lock that fits his father's key. the book is beautifully written, but it's so much more than just a novel. there are black and white pictures throughout the novel that tie in with the story. there are pages of black and white print with red circles around meaningful words. there is an old man in the story who no longer speaks, and instead writes all of his dialogue, which is represented by single pages with simple lines written in the middle of them.

quite honestly, i think the book is more a work of art than a novel.

and you know what? the movie was just as beautiful.

there are so few times when i see a movie that's been adapted from a book and think, "holy cow. that was GOOD." but it happened this time. and i'm so glad it did. because i can live with hollywood screwing up my Stephanie Plum novels. i can live with that. but you don't screw up a book like Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close.

you just don't.

based on a true story.

(not mine, but someone else's)

i am perched
and waiting
at a vantage spot outside
assured that you will see
me
and my pleading poster sign
crooked letters scrawling
i love you
please forgive me
and i pay no attention
to the people passing by
who look at me
with interest
and a scrutinizing eye

'cause i don't give a damn
'bout anyone but you

i don't give a damn
'bout anyone but you

netflix summaries.

i was feeling nostalgic today, so i started watching the beginning of that confusing but cleverly written show: LOST.

Al comes in halfway through my re-watching of the pilot, part 1.

"i love this show! i want to watch too!" she says and plops herself down on the couch beside me.

the beginning scenes of that show are so emotionally raw (Jack waking up all alone in the jungle and then wandering out onto the beach, finding the huge chunks of plane and wreckage and stumbling to one wounded passenger after another, trying his best to fix them all), that i could literally feel my breath catching in my throat.

how could i have forgotten how completely wonderful this show is?

i tell Al that we actually watched the second episode of the series in one of my film classes (i believe it was my screenplay writing class...) and discussed the merits of the show, of which there were many. my professor had nothing but deliriously good things to say about it, and that's back when it was still on the air. he always got a little quiet when he talked about Lost, mentioning that he felt the show was responsible for a great shift in the quality of network television. and i agree--it's one of those shows that is just fantastically made.

anyway, me and Al watch to the end of the second episode (the one where Charlie dramatically pauses to ask, "Guys, where ARE we?" before the trademark single beat and LOST shows up on the screen). the netflix menu comes back up, and we read the summary for the show:

"After their plane crashes on a deserted island, a diverse group of people must adapt to their new home and contend with the island's enigmatic forces."

Al and i agree that in no way does this summary fully capture the essence of the show.

so i offer my own summary:

"Plane crashes. Awesomeness ensues."

if that wouldn't get a reluctant viewer to try this show out, i don't know what would.

friday friday friday.

(btw, that song has officially been banned from my classroom. it is both catchy, and an abomination, and as such, i can have it nowhere near me.)

so, today was a crappy day.

things went pretty well. and then lunch came and went. after lunch on a friday? well, let's just say that the natives get pretty restless on a friday afternoon. and by "natives," i mean 7th and 8th graders.

second to last period, i had to spend 10 minutes lecturing my 8th graders on treating each other with respect. and as i was lecturing, aiming my words at a specific two students who'd just finished pushing each others' belongings off their desks, another student decides to trip one of his classmates. i kind of lost it at that point.

last period, i recited some words of wisdom from The Office. i was explaining to the class that sometimes, we need to think before we act. and then it hit me! you know who has said this better than i will ever be able to say it?

answer: Dwight Schrute.

now, before i imparted the following nugget of wisdom, i prefaced myself by saying, "just so we're clear, i am not calling any of you an idiot. i just think this will clearly explain what i am trying to say to you. Dwight Schrute once said:

'Before I do anything I ask myself “Would an idiot do that?”
And if the answer is yes, I do not do that thing.'

i think these are words we should all live by in this class."

i thought i'd be able to leave it at that. the class was actually much better than they normally are last period on a warm, friday afternoon, and things were going well.

about ten minutes before class ended, i looked over at one of the tables, and noticed two boys with their hands covering their noses and mouths, making fake fart sounds.

so i said, "stop! what did we talk about earlier, guys?"

i saw the wheels turning in their heads. and then i saw the glimmer of recognition as they remembered Dwight's brilliant words and slowly attempted to apply them to their own lives. they both lowered their hands, and i suggested to the class that perhaps i should find a way to inscribe the words on my wall...to remind us all that we should think before making *cough! (idiotic) poor behavioral choices.

the two boys' classmates agreed wholeheartedly.

Top 20 Dwight Schrute Quotes

LATER.

happy hour.

having a good time, drinking some happy hour specials. finally, it's time to go. i'm about to head straight home, but i decide there's someplace special i want to go first.

that's right, ladies and gentlemen.

i went to HALF PRICE BOOKS.

i wandered around for a bit, picked out WAY more books than i should have, and purchased all of them without considering the consequences at all. in fact, all i could think as i hauled my stack of books out of the store and into my car was, "so many books for so little money! amazing!"

on my way home, i decided that maybe it's not such a good idea to go half-price book shopping when i have alcohol flowing through my veins. i seriously don't need more books. i've got so many, they're currently taking over my bedroom. i fear that soon there will be no place for me to sleep. i will have to make a bed from yellowing paperbacks.

anyway, i get home, push open the door and make my way inside where i find my sister on the couch watching Gossip Girl.

i clear my throat. "i have been drinking," i announce to her as she pauses her show. "also, i have made some bad decisions today."

she took one look at the stack of books in my hand and cocked an eyebrow at me. "half-price books, huh?"

"yep."

"more Buffy the Vampire Slayer books?"

"yep."

here's the thing: if buying cheesy paperbacks based on a campy 90s television show is the worst decision i've made all week, i think i will take my bad decisions and run with them.

my friend B-Rock shops online when drunk. apparently, i book shop.

i could get used to this.

the eleventh plague.

so, i am happy to say that i am totally on a roll with reading this year!

last year, i set a goodreads goal of 50 books (i set it halfway through the year, but it was still a goal!), and didn't even make it close.

but this is the year! this year of 2012 is MY YEAR!

not only am i going to the gym on a regular basis and eating healthier, but i am GOING to reach my goal of 50 BOOKS this year.

the most recent one i finished (and #4 book of the year) is a dystopian/science-fiction novel:

The Eleventh Plague
by Jeff Hirscsh

you can read more about the book at the official website HERE.

it's a pretty good read. it's in the same vein as some other young adult books i've been reading lately (e.g. The Hunger Games trilogy and Divergent), and i thought it was pretty decent. what made it such a great book is that it's scarily realistic. unlike some other science fiction books i've read, this one takes what we are right now, and follows it down the path we're creating for ourselves. it's not a pretty picture.

but this is one of the reasons i love science fiction, which is a pretty recent love, i have to admit. i avoided it for so long because i always felt there was some sort of stigma attached to it.

but you know what? i'm a nerd. and i embrace it wholeheartedly.

"Tonight I can write the saddest lines" by Pablo Neruda

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.

Write, for example,'The night is shattered
and the blue stars shiver in the distance.'

The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.

Through nights like this one I held her in my arms
I kissed her again and again under the endless sky.

She loved me sometimes, and I loved her too.
How could one not have loved her great still eyes.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her.

To hear the immense night, still more immense without her.
And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.

What does it matter that my love could not keep her.
The night is shattered and she is not with me.

This is all. In the distance someone is singing. In the distance.
My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.

My sight searches for her as though to go to her.
My heart looks for her, and she is not with me.

The same night whitening the same trees.
We, of that time, are no longer the same.

I no longer love her, that's certain, but how I loved her.
My voice tried to find the wind to touch her hearing.

Another's. She will be another's. Like my kisses before.
Her void. Her bright body. Her infinite eyes.

I no longer love her, that's certain, but maybe I love her.
Love is so short, forgetting is so long.

Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms
my soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.

Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer
and these the last verses that I write for her.

"If You Forget Me" by Pablo Neruda

I want you to know
one thing.

You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats
that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.

If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.

If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
remember
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.

But
if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine

why we broke up.

H at work gave me the following book:

Why We Broke Up
by Daniel Handler
art by Maira Kalman

i finished reading it this afternoon during my lunch break. and let me just say...THIS IS THE BOOK I HAVE ALWAYS WANTED TO WRITE, BUT DIDN'T KNOW HOW. it's incredible how close to home it hits. it's about this high school girl's first love...and it's clear from the beginning that the relationship is doomed. but you feel for the girl, or at least i did, because you know how it is.

i told H this afternoon, after i'd finished reading it, that this book is like the last 6 years of my life, rolled into 345 pages and a shorter time frame (less than 2 months).

this blog is a project devoted to the book, where readers can write their own "why we broke up" stories:

whywebrokeupproject.

here is mine.

we broke up because
i realized we weren't forever,
and no amount of wishing or trying
would make it so.