the longest day

I awoke this morning with a feeling of dread. The feeling you get when you wake up and know there's not the slightest possibility of accomplishing everything you have to do, no matter how you shuffle your schedule or efficiently manage your time.

So I ran around all day, maniacally trying to catch up from being half a step behind. Time just slipped through my fingers. Before I knew it, my evening class had arrived, dinner was inhaled in record time, and I finished writing a test literally 3 minutes before class. Then suddenly I was home with nothing to do but take care of a 2 year old who is spending his last night of 6 at my house.

This isn't to say that today was a bad day; quite to the contrary. I did manage to get almost everything done, although my students won't actually be able to take the test they think is scheduled in the testing center starting tomorrow because I turned it in late. Ooops. Thursday promises more chaos with the upcoming ESL Halloween party I'm so lucky to be in charge of.

The highlight of the madness: I got to hear one of the greatest people ever speak at BYU, the author of Three Cups of Tea, Greg Mortenson (I was a mere 250 people away from him). And I drank a very large and overpriced Jamba Juice. And I kept my mouth primly closed when a particular rotten student was her normal rotten self. And I wore a lovely purple cardigan, which of course made the craziness much more bearable. Had I been wearing something else, I may have shuffled off into a dark corner with slumped shoulders and hid.

a trip to idaho

Last week we went to Moscow to see Trav's parents during my fall break. While there, we took a tour of central Washington (also known as the barren wasteland) where Trav spent his early years. It's actually not that bad; I'm just more accustomed to farmland being green with fields interspersed with hedge-rows of trees rather than dry brown sage brush. Then we spent 2 days in Leavenworth, WA, a small "Bavarian" village on the east side of the Cascades. Although very touristy and rather kitschy, it was still pretty fun. Here's a picture of the main street:

My favorite part were all the signs. In order to give things a more "German" feel, the locals added German words to most of their store names. However, they didn't always bother to check to see if the words were grammatically correct. Or even German. Two of my favorites:

We also stopped at a candy factory in Cashmere, WA where they make a very strange and sometimes tasty treat called aplets and cotlets. They're kind of like Turkish delight, except not as nasty. Millions of pounds of candies are made each year in a building smaller than most houses by a staff of about 20. All hand packaged, even. They're a Zirker family favorite for Christmas...and a bit of an acquired taste.

Trav did his best to eat as many free samples as he could. He said it was all in the name of settling the family dispute about which are better: aplets or cotlets. I vote cotlets.

ESL perspectives

Yesterday my listening speaking level 4 students had their midterm exam (or at least part of it. I've been cursed of recent with the MOST horrible unsolvable technological problems. And our department tech guy is out of town. As usual). Part of the their exam was an oral interview where they were asked their opinions on the following questions:

1. Do you like/dislike President Obama? Why?
2. What is the biggest issue Americans have to deal with today?
3. What can Americans do to improve their relationships with foreigners.

Most students liked Obama. One girl from Tajikistan said she liked him even though he was black. Even though? She was quite surprised that a black man could amass that much power and then end up elected and a good president. One Korean didn't like him because he is black. One Mexican liked him because he is black and his parents were immigrants, just like her. Because the Koreans usually have no idea who is president in their own country, they had even less of an idea about ours. Case in point: a few semesters ago we were discussing American government vs other forms of governments, and none of the 12 (South) Koreans in the class could tell me if they vote for a president or if the military is in control of their country or if they have a divinely chosen reincarnated king...

America's biggest issue is either dishonesty, laziness, or the economy. Ooo, and housing costs. Houses should be cheap for all! One girl thinks the recession is due to people watching too much cable tv instead of getting a job.

Americans can improve relationships with foreigners by "hanging out." Or by not giving the Koreans mean looks when the Koreans try to speak and you have no idea what gibberish just came out of their mouths. Or by being 100% blunt: if you think it, say it (Unsurprisingly, this came from an Armenian student..remember the wrinkle comment?). Being blunt would solve social, economic, and military problems. But, as this girl has noticed, it might not get her an American boyfriend.

I really love my students.

Tonight I feel flustered. I've been having some difficulties with a particular ESL student and just read an email from her that basically told me she hates my class, my class assignments don't improve her English, and that she thinks I do my best to make the Korean students crazy. I promptly directed a feisty reply telling her exactly what I thought of her bad attitude and rudeness (don't worry, it was direct, but still polite). I know everything I said was perfectly justified; she's the one with the problem, not me. And I know that not all of my students are going to love everything I do in my class. Or that they're not all going to love me. I know these things. But it's just so disheartening when I put my best ideas and best effort forth, and someone, or worse, several someones, hate them. In my mind it means they hate me. And I should be ok with that, but apparently my tough "rhino skin," as my mom always called it, hasn't really grown in yet. I'm too sensitive for my own good.

So after an episode like tonight, all of my ambitious and creative ideas are beat down into submission, and I think maybe it would be better to just stick to the books. Why try doing anything interesting if everyone is going to hate it (ie hate me). I now feel flustered and upset and anxious and generally in turmoil. And I hate that almost more than I hate when people hate me.

Feis #2

This weekend was my second feis, pronounced "fesh" (my first one was in June). I danced 5 different solo dances: 3 soft shoe and 2 hard shoe. The hornpipe (a hard shoe dance) was dreadful. I was so terribly nervous that I would start at the wrong moment that when I actually did start at the right time, I didn't trust myself and started dancing really fast to try to make up for it...throwing my rhythm for the rest of the dance. Blech. But I managed to pull off 2 firsts and a third in my soft shoe dances. Hurrah!

This is my dancing friend Jessica who has the most amazing calves you've ever seen. Her leaps are spectacular.
And these are my medals. They're much less impressive than the last feis. If any of you have small children who want a costume prop, let me know. Oh, and don't mind the nasty looking wall behind me. That's what happens to plaster when it's covered by 60 years of wallpaper.

Adjustments

It appears I've forgotten what it's like to live with a man. (I guess technically it hasn't been that long- 6 weeks most recently, but I don't really count the month I spent in Memphis with Trav as real life. It was more like vacation. So really it feels like about 5 months). Here's what I'm rediscovering:

• The toilet seat. For nearly seven years, I almost never ever said a word about putting down the toilet seat. T-rav naturally did so, and I was naturally pleased by it. And then he spent 6 weeks living with a bunch of single guys and suddenly he doesn't remember the toilet seat exists (which was quite shocking to my bottom at 3 am).
  
• I actually don't wash my cars as often as I should, even though my excuse of imminent rain storms seems perfectly valid to me.
• I actually can't (or shouldn't) go anywhere I please at any time I please. I should probably tell my husband if I'm flitting off to hang out with a friend or go to the grocery store or work out or whatever. Even if it's only to be courteous.
• Boys can't live off of cereal.
• Sharing a bed can be pleasant. But having a queen sized bed to yourself might be more pleasant.

a little help

I'm not sure why I'm putting this up here on my blog since I never post often enough to get people to actually read my blog...but it's important so I'm going to anyway.

There's an international student from UVU (well actually she graduated a few months ago, but we still claim her) who is slowly but surely dying of leukemia. Dying, unless she gets a bone marrow transplant asap. But, being Mongolian and a student, she doesn't really have the kind of insurance that is going to pay for something like that.

Read her story here. And then maybe you could spare a few dollars to contribute to the $350,000 she needs for her surgery.

Here's some proof that there actually is, for a few days at least, some semblance of fall in Utah. Granted, you'll miss it if you leave for the weekend, but here it is. And yes, family, it doesn't hold a candle to a New York fall. Don't rub it in. I'm having a hard enough time thinking about it on my own.

And look! A dog on wheels. I secretly snapped a shot of him at a park up the canyon.

Trav is finally coming home. Hurrah!!

survival of the (un)fittest

I almost died this weekend. Almost.

This past Friday, with the much appreciated help of Pete, Josh and Caroline, I lugged all our stuff out of our storage unit and into our new house. Saturday, Phin and I spent much of the afternoon cleaning (since the previous tenants didn't really get to it; don't worry- my rent was discounted for my trouble) and then making a mess of what we cleaned by ripping off layer #1 of wallpaper. We soon found ourselves starving and headed off to Subway for a late lunch.

About four hours later, I found myself pinned in the bathroom for sundry reasons we shan't discuss so openly on my blog. Suffice it to say the situation was ugly.

I spent most of Sunday in bed, trying not to think about food.

I spent most of Monday in bed, thinking about food, but being too weak to get up and find some.

Through many hours of pondering I decided that if there were ever a famine in the land, the kind that uses up all of the food storage in Utah County and beyond, the kind where people are dying left and right, I'd be the first to go.

This thought kind of depressed me. I used to think of myself as tough (although I'm pretty sure I could take most of my friends in a fist fight...not that I'd ever want to...or ever thought about it) I really don't think I'd survive very long without food. I'm definitely no Olan from The Good Earth (excellent book, by the way. I read it twice this year) who can go for a days surviving on only a bean while being pregnant with her 4th child. I would have died long before we got to the bean-a-day ration.

No, really. I would have. I had only gone a peasly 36 hours without anything of substance. Granted, I didn't really have anything at all left in my system, but still. Thirty six hours, and getting up to take a shower exhausted me to the point where I could barely lift my head to take a drink. I had to take a 1.5 hour nap before I felt ready to crawl over to the faucet and refill my water glass. Pathetic, isn't it?

I was also slightly alarmed to note my increased heart rate every time I moved, and shallow, rapid breathing. I could imagine my organs beginning their initial shut down due to lack of nourishment (e- how long would that actually take?). I really hoped zillah had taken good notes on my funeral requests (t-rav isn't to be trusted to remember Brahms requiem). I wondered how much longer I could live off water alone...

When finally I dramatically dragged myself out of my wallowing over to the freezer (pity no one was there to see) where I was delighted to find not 1, but 2 real strawberry popsicles.

Saved.

And that is how I didn't actually die this weekend.

*My remaining complaint: my left eye is strangely blood-shot today. I imagine that it hurts. Any ideas why?