Sister's Wedding

This shot was taken by my 14-year old cousin. It was also really really windy. And really sunny. And we were looking at our fantastic photographer instead of my cousin. But it's all I've got right now, so we'll just have to make-do.

Congrats, sister!

Never. EVER. Every fly through Atlanta. Especially in the spring. Or the winter. Or really any time of year. Because if you do, this is what will happen.

You will get on your flight on time and head towards your connecting flight in Atlanta. When you are approximately 40 minutes from Atlanta, a ginormous spring storm will materialize, preventing all flights from arriving or departing. For a while, you will circle the air over Alabama, waiting to see if the storms will clear and you can land. But then the pilot realizes the plane is nearly out of fuel, so you are forced to land in a puny airport in Alabama. You sit on the runway, trapped in the airplane, without food, drink, or air. The pilot is considerate enough to make periodic announcements that he doesn't know what's happening. After nearly 3 hours, the storm clears and you're on your way to Atlanta, (though it takes ages to land and then deplane since the control tower was struck by lightening). Once you land, you are told the wrong gate to go to for your connecting flight, get lost in the freakishly huge Atlanta airport and end up going through security again, sprint to your gate at the cost of destroying your shins, and deal with several UNhelpful airport employees (including one who tells you there's no way you're going to make your flight). Thankfully, your luck takes a turn for the better, and after 3 wrong terminals, you find that your plane hasn't left yet! and you schlep onto the plane.

Yesterday was The Worst Flight of my Life.

But it's nice to be home. And I've been cooking all day. And my bridesmaid's dress is actually pretty great. Hurrah.

Tomorrow is:

• the last day of class this semester
• ESL graduation
• my last day of German 102
• final exam oral interviews for Listening Speaking 4
• my last chance to write exams
  
• the day I fly home to Palmyra for my sister's sealing

some news

It occurred to me yesterday that I haven't really mentioned anything that's going on in my life. So here goes.

First of all, T-rav is moving to Tennessee to work for the summer. No, he's definitely not doing summer sales. He's going to be installing security systems (not selling) for the dudes who go out and sell their souls to sell the systems. He'll be in Memphis for May and June and then Nashville for July and August.

I'll be staying here until the end of June to teach at UVU the first block of summer term. I'm moving in with my old roommate Phin and living in Brick House, the place I lived right before I got married. I'll leave Provo at the end of June to, you know, actually live with my husband.

I'm really excited to teach my summer class. I'll be teaching Listening/Speaking level 4 (one of my favorite classes thus far), and the BEST part is that we're taking the students on a trip to southern Utah. Unlike the other level 4 classes, our curriculum focuses more on Native Americans, environmental issues, and Utah/western type history. So near the end of the block, we'll be going camping and hiking for 4 days...along with some other semi-educational stuff...which is easily justified by claiming cultural education, right?

What are we doing after August? No idea. I'm still hoping for a teaching job overseas somewhere. I'm willing to go anywhere, though I've been applying mostly for jobs in Turkey and the Czech Republic. In my dreams, I still imagine living in Italy. We'll see.

12 Steps to Thicker Skin

1. Become a teacher and put your whole heart into your teaching.
   
2. Like almost all of your students and hope that they like you back.
3. Inadvertently offend/anger a student.
   
4. Try your very best to mend the sticky situation you got yourself into.
   
5. Wait to find out if your student is still offended.
6. Stew about it and wait to hear from your student.
   
7. Keep stewing and waiting. Check your email a LOT.
   
8. Get frustrated that your student misunderstood you and decide you don't care what s/he thinks about you or if s/he replies to your email. Take that!
   
9. After a few hours, realize that you actually really really do care.
   
10. Get lots of advice from other experienced teachers, including not to worry about what students think about you.
    
11. Ignore their advice and keep worrying.
    
12. Get sick of worrying and decide that you honestly don't care if your student is offended or if s/he thinks you are a bad/mean/bigoted/discriminatory/hateful/etc. person. You know what you actually intended and if your student wants to be offended, so be it. You hope s/he is happy being hypersensitive.

I feel as though I have purged my soul. It feels good.

Of leaping and frolicking

Last night I had my very first Irish Dance recital. It was exciting! My only disappointment of the night was not getting to wear a wig (only the champion dancers and teenage girls get them). I think they make everyone look better...while they dance, at least. They're so bouncy!

My dance is a 6-hand reel (meaning with 6 people) and we're wearing gillies (soft shoes), not hard shoes, so you won't hear any clomping. But it's still pretty cool. Watch it!! I start out on the very left.

cultural or human nature?

One thing I've always wondered about is how much culture influence the way we are. How much of our reactions to life are taught to us, and how much is just the way we inherently are? My favorite example, and one I like to bring up to T-rav every now and then, is the stereotypical American male. Everyone knows that a real man doesn't cry. He doesn't exhibit a whole lot of any type of emotion, except, perhaps, anger or maybe happiness. A real man is strong, powerful, and suppresses his feelings. And he most definitely doesn't cry. On the other hand, a real woman is in touch with her emotions, maybe even too much so.

I firmly believe that this is mostly culturally taught. From infancy, I think American boys are told not to cry, to be tough, to take care of their sister, etc. And girls are taught to rely on men, gush forth their feelings, and cry at the drop of a hat. This is not to completely discount the inherent differences between men and women. But in my opinion, the biggest differences come from how we are raised, not our genes. For example, Latin men are required to be both macho, but also passionate, and, if the moment demands it, very emotional. Does that mean that their genes make them more emotional than American men, or are they raised that way? I would venture to say they've been raised that way.

What do you think?

Another year, Another festival of colors

If you have no idea what I'm talking about, go here and read about last year. This year's Festival of Colors was much the same, but even bigger. I kind of hate that it has become the "cool" thing to do at BYU. I was celebrating Holi before some of those peeps had even started high school! Rather than thinking this makes me old, I prefer to think of it as dedication! Dedication and cultural awareness. The people who come nowadays have no idea what holi is about, and nor do they seem to care. They just come to get covered in paint. And make a ruckus. So while I feel slightly indignant that the masses have started participating in something that I like to do, it's still pretty great. You should go some time.

I love delta's policy or overbooking every flight, and then bumping people off at the last minute. Thus far, it has gotten us a total of 2.5 free trips in the past 6 months. You heard me. Free. Let me tell you just how dang good it feels to push "purchase" on a trip that you don't actually have to pay for. It's fantastically good. It's even better than when ma and pa pay because there's no associated guilt that you have somehow taken advantage of your parents' generosity. So the next time the delta people ask for volunteers, I recommend you push and shove your way to the front of the line. It's totally worth it.

The dreaded return to real life

Yesterday I was loathe to admit that spring break really was over. I almost didn't get up to go to school, but then, as usual, my responsible self dragged my lazy self out of bed, into the shower, and over to UVU. Curse that responsible side. Sometimes I think it's almost worse to take a break and have to go back to it than not to have a break at all. Anyway. I grudgingly went to school, thinking all the while of how nice it would be to have a full week off like the rest of the universities in the US (except BYU, of course). My students exhibited similar feelings; when I walked into class this afternoon, 4 out of the 6 students in the room had their heads down on their books, and when they finally did rouse themselves enough to acknowledge my presence in the room, I was met with blank faces. I'll let you guess just how well our lesson went today...

I suppose that's enough complaining. Let me tell you about how great my spring break was and maybe you'll understand why I didn't want to come back to real life.

I started out Wednesday by driving down to Vegas to eventually meet up with T-rav, who was doing a bit of side work with a friend. Because he was busy working, I got to spend almost 2 lovely days with cousin Michelle (and Buddy, when he wasn't in class), binging on pizza, hanging out at the pool in the sunny, warm weather, sitting in the sun, reading books, watching movies, and chatting. Then early Friday morning, I collected T-rav and we headed down to Phoenix to visit our friends Callie and Brian, who are always good for an adventure. We planted trees with some refugees (I heart the IRC), ate tasty Mexican food, wandered around Phoenix's downtown (which was much smaller than I imagined), bought freshly picked lemons at the Farmer's Market and then baked with them (divinity!), hiked up Camelback mountain (hill? strange geographical growth?), snuck into the pools of a very posh Marriott Resort Hotel, and stuffed our faces full of tasty food. Did I mention that it was sunny and warm?

And then, after 4.5 days of relaxation and fun, we drove back to Provo to snow, rain, clouds, and 30 degrees. Blech. Though I know I shouldn't complain. Spring will come to Utah within the next few weeks, while some of you will have snow piles in your driveway until the end of May. Ha!

So thanks to the Hills and Richards for being such excellent hosts! We had a great time!