The Sims- Part One

Sorry, Mario...I am not big into video games.

It seems like every year I play just a few times, and usually I play the same three or four games, which is fine because this schedule enables me to continue doing more productive things (like watching Teen Mom) and saves The Peaches some money.

The problem is that when I do play these games, I play them obsessively- for 12 straight hours and days on end.  I abandon all of my responsibilities- whether it's convenient or not, sit in a chair, and stare at a 21-inch computer monitor.  Then, just as the wave of compulsion washed over me, it washes away and I walk away a few pounds lighter (too.busy.to.eat) and find Mr. Peaches so he remembers me before it's too late.  I am very suddenly no longer interested in Mario, Europa Universalis, or Sim City.  Or in whatever other decade-old game I have suddenly remembered existed.

This week, I remembered that The Sims existed.

The Sims first debuted in 2000, and I remember playing it that year on miss sarah's computer.  Basically, it's a game where you play God, without all of that pesky "free-will" business.  You create and maintain a household and the people who live in it.  You.control.everything.  And anyone who has known me for a second knows that I love control.

All of this is well and good, and I could easily write a few blog posts on how much fun it is to decorate a virtual house that you have built, create the virtual people and the virtual personalities who live in it, and help these virtual people achieve in their careers, and even have little virtual babies if you so choose.  But I'm actually writing to ask you to let me convince you that Electronic Arts, the makers of The Sims, simplified and paralleled real life with astonishing accuracy.

True story.

Part One- Background

Okay, so once you build and furnish your house, your job as God is to keep your Sims (the people) happy.  They have a few basic needs and a status bar for each, so you can prioritize them according to severity.

• Bladder
• Hygiene
• Hunger
• Energy
• Fun
• Social
• Comfort
• Room

These needs are pretty self-explanatory: You need to tell your Sims when to use the bathroom, take a shower, eat, sleep (or drink espresso, as the case may be), and have fun.  The Sims need to make and talk to friends, and if they neglect a friendship over time, this person ceases to remain their friend.  They also don't like to be physically uncomfortable for long periods of time (they need to sit in a comfy chair or take a bath, for example).  "Room" can best be described as a measure of claustrophobia- Sims need natural light, plants, and furnishings/decor they can enjoy.

Part Two to follow- and I promise it's somehow related to Christmas.

Speaking of which, Merry Christmas to you, Dear Reader.  I hope you're having a better day than this kid (who is clearly on to something).

Cricket.

I got Cricket when I was around three years old and she was my most prized possession.

SOMEONE got rid of her.

I hope SOMEONE got really creeped out by watching this old commercial.

Pour one out for my Cricket.

The First Attempts

Maybe one of the many reasons my mother was so resistant to the idea of not having flowers is because I am not crafty.  I have tried to be crafty time and time again in my early 20s, and I chronicled a few of my cadaverous hobbies in my first post.

This is my first attempt to not use one thousand dollars worth of flowers at our wedding:

Apparently, Martha Stewart tutorials, shockingly, are easier written than done.

I quickly gave up on tissue paper poms, and started on origami.  Here is my first, second, third, fourth...etc. attempts at that.

Finally, however, ACHIEVEMENT!  I made a flower!  If I used cuter paper cut in the proportions suggested by the author, this might actually work.  Some of that scrap-booking paper is awfully cute these days.

Ladies and gentlemen, we may have found our bouquets.  

It's a Nice Day for a Flowerless Wedding

I woke up thinking about the wedding today because I recently learned my florists want $1000 for flowers.

I'll give that a second to sink in.

One thousand dollars for flowers.

Ah hem.


Anyway, I want to spend $300, which I find more than reasonable.

Look, ma, no flowers!

The costs associated with having a wedding are out of control.

"On average, couples that live in or travel to [my city] spend between 

$14,069 and $23,449 total for Average Cost."

www.costofwedding.com

I'm willing to pay some of those costs- or at least let someone else pay for them (my parents are amazing).  Food seems important and expensive, so...okay.  I can't back down on booze.  It is a must-have at any party we throw, and hell, sometimes it's a must-have at breakfast.  And if the drunk men in my family end up in a fist fight... well, the photographer better be around to capture each glorious punch.

I wrote about our Day-of Coordinator here, and our decision to spend some money to have her around.  She's super and I feel good about that decision.  We are spending as much on our cake topper as my parents did on my dress, so I am not sure what that says, except I can tell you that my cake topper is $30.

But flowers?

Flowers die, and die fast.  They look beautiful for a few hours and the next day they will die.  I have never left a wedding and said to Mr. Peaches, "Did you see those Lilies of the Valley?  The looked amazing."  (Actually, I even had to look up Lilies of the Valley because I don't know anything about flowers.)

The average cost of flowers in my city, according to that website is between $1065 and $1775.

So, I will spend my weekend looking into flower alternatives.

Screw yourself, Dear Wedding Industrial Complex.

Seriously...

Did I tell you lately that my job is amazing?

I am loving all of the new technology I am finding and cannot wait to try it out in my classroom.

Voki

Our latest proyecto

I love my job.

It's Official

Consider this your unofficial STD (this article is pretty stringent on the gender roles, but it gets the job done for my purpose here).

Friday, July 29, 2011.

With Chocolate Creamer

I do not have the best track record with coffee, and this morning the trend continues.

This morning I poured myself a nice, huge cup with chocolate creamer and got ready to Skype with my mother, Mama Peaches, who lives in the next state over.  As I went to pick up the cup, I knocked it over instead, and it spilled all over the counter, down the dishwasher, and splashed onto Mr. Holden, who I might remind you weighs five pounds.  Here, I am using the term "splashed" politely, so that PETA doesn't send me even more mailers than it already does.  Mr. Holden was actually covered in it.

What do you do when your dog gets covered in seconds-old, scalding hot coffee?

I know what I would want- cold water fast.  I grabbed him and put him in the sink, where he proceeded to put his foot down the garbage disposal (maybe this wasn't the best idea), and showered him in freezing cold water, which he did not appreciate.  I held him awhile, and then played with him to make sure he wasn't acting funny.

He's fine!  Normal!  Hooray!

Then I proceeded to clean up the massive bloodshed in the kitchen and pour another cup of coffee, this time adding cinnamon for my troubles.  I carried it over to the couch, where Mama Peaches was waiting for me.  I put it on the ground for easy access.

I took a delicious sip.

Worth it.

Except that's when Mr. Holden, who hadn't quite had enough yet, got excited about his toy and ran toward me with it.  And planted two feet into that scalding cup of coffee and spilled it all over the floor.

Cleanup on Aisle 9.  Actually, make that aisles 7, 8, 9, 10, and 11.

I hope your morning was a little easier on you, Dear Reader.

A New Chapter

This is a big weekend for The Peaches.

Today is our very first College football game in town where football is a pretty big deal and, although I don't generally give a crap about football, I'm pretty stinkin' excited.  I love making fun memories with Mr. Peaches and our first game should be a great one.

Tomorrow we are going to pick up my engagement ring.  More about that later.

And, speaking of exciting changes, Friday I officially become one of the elite insured people in America.  Medical, Dental, and Vision, oh my!  I'm irked that I had to work for nearly two full months before I became insured (all while paying for insurance), but I do know that most people do not become insured on their hire date.  Baby steps.

Anyway, thanks to the whole being insured thing, I am setting up all kinds of doctor appointments for the month of October.  The idea is to visit a doctor from each specialty area that applies to me, and take my insurance for all I can get.  I plan on seeing my first chiropractor, a dentist, getting my eyes checked, primary care, maybe a shrink just for fun, and more.  I might even make an appointment with a pediatrician.  I want to make up for all 25 uninsured months in October.

Also, we're still broke and weddings are expensive.

And, I love my job.  Woot!

Happy Saturday, Dear Reader.

Today.

Today I loved my sixth graders.  I was teaching them some Spanish at the chalkboard when I watched a kid in the front row- a kid who, I must confess, often annoys me with his constant chattering- play with his pencil.  He was fiddling and fiddling until I watched as he poked himself in the eye with his little blue detachable eraser pencil topper.

And boy did I find that hilarious.

So hilarious that I had to turn my back to the students and face the chalkboard while I laughed.  Except after a few seconds, a student said, "She's laughing!" as though I never do such a ridiculous thing.  This made me laugh harder.  Which made them laugh harder.   And round and round we went, until I was wiping tears from my eyes and wistfully remembering that- yep, I'm getting paid for this.

Love my job.

And the Verdict is?

She said YES!

The Saga of the Wedding Planner

A wedding planner.

Few wedding choices are more controversial than whether or not wedding planners are worth the money, particularly if the couple is on a tight budget.

Mr. Peaches and I, due to a wide variety of factors, have decided it is important to us to have someone to hold our hands through the planning process in case we need anything, and show up on our wedding day to handle any mishaps so we do not have to stress out.  This service is typically called Day-of Coordination.

Mr. Peaches and I fell in love with the very first DOC (Day-of Coordinator) we met, but she cost $1800 for the minimum Coordination package and we just couldn't do it.  We wanted to spend around $800, or at most $1000 for someone to show up and handle what is surely to be a messy day.  She offered to temper her cost in exchange for some Spanish lessons, but still- too much money.  That was six weeks ago.

This afternoon I sent our very favorite DOC an email, which I am reproducing for you, Dear Reader, so that you will elope.

DOC,

I realize that what I am about to do may be impolitic in the World of Wedding Planning, but since meeting you, Mr. Peaches and I have dealt with the most ridiculous wedding planning saga and I just cannot handle another minute of it.  In other words, I don't particularly care if it's impolitic.

So, you know that The Peaches totally adored you, but you were just too far outside of our budget.  That's when we met with Super Cheap Planner-in-Training, who was only $450.  I knew this was a mistake since we didn't get along with her well, but- hello, budget-friendly!  Unfortunately, as I am sure anyone could have predicted she was completely irresponsible, took days and multiple prompts to even send a contract, and seemed quite offended when I asked her about her price point.  We never signed with her.

Cue Wedding Consultant Number Three.  Still no Favorite DOC, she was prompt, responsible, and we got along well.  Her price was $1050 and we decided the extra $600 for someone we can get along with and trust was more than worthwhile.  Unfortunately, she doesn't take weddings the weekend of ours, and her business partner would be doing our wedding.  Except we never heard from the business partner.  When we inquired Planner Number Three about this, she promptly asked the partner why she had not contacted us.  The partner then quit.  QUIT.  Doesn't want to work in the Wedding Industry any longer.  (This, of course is terrible for us, but I can't imagine how horrifying it is for Planner Number Three.)

Three referred us to Wedding Planner Number Four who only works with "Judeo-Christian" couples who mention God in their ceremony.  I cannot put in writing how I feel about this for fear it will someday come back to haunt me.

Three then referred us to Wedding Planner Number Five, who we met this morning.  We enjoy her, but she is $1400 and understandably cannot come down in price.

Can you see where I am going with this?

For $1400 she is going to do sporadic phone calls/emails about vendors, an upfront two-hour brainstorming session about colors and designs, and all Day-of services, with an intern or two.

All of this is to ask you, Favorite DOC, are you available on our date?  

With Spanish lessons, house cleaning, babysitting, and occasional batches of cookies, can you come anywhere close to (or below??) this number for the same services?

We were fools.

We Miss You.

The Peaches

Buy me a coke?

"I thought my eighth graders would have eaten my alive already.  I must be doing something right because today- the seventh day of school- I had an amazing day.  Even with two classes of eighth graders and a super teary-eyed seventh grader."
                                    --Señorita Peaches, 1 September, 2010

Spoken like a true first-year teacher.

Never jinx yourself like that.  Ever.

Yesterday was teh suck.

Also, you can add that a student told me her mom beat her up to the list of crap I don't feel competent enough to handle.

Exhaustion and Recap

I'm tired.

Today was my sixth day of school and I'm tired.

I missed the fourth day of school.

On the fifth day one of my students told me she was going to kill herself.  She wasn't hyperbolizing.  She told me how she would do it when I gently inquired.  I had to get someone to cover my class so I could take her to the counselor.  Luckily I have a good colleague in the Band teacher, and a great 8th period class I can leave alone.

I was also observed yesterday, which went well.  It was a jam-packed return to from my three-day weekend.

I thought my eighth graders would have eaten my alive already.  I must be doing something right because today- the seventh day of school- I had an amazing day.  Even with two classes of eighth graders and a super teary-eyed seventh grader.

Today, at the end of the day, I looked at my empty, messy, unorganized classroom with papers everywhere and disheveled desks and through my exhaustion thought about how much I love my job.

Can you call it a job if you haven't gotten paid yet?  I think I'll love it more when I get my first paycheck in nine days.

The Time Señorita Peaches Went to Jail

I lost a child.

Thursday, the second day of school, I lost a child.

It was fifth period, my most challenging class of eighth graders.  I didn't get to take attendance right away because there were three new students, who had missed the first day of school and I needed to catch them up.  By the time I had finished with them, the other students had completed their task, and started to get restless.  In an effort to keep them occupied, I decided I would take attendance at the end of the period instead of let them start talking and wasting time.

A few minutes later, one student raised her hand to go to the bathroom.  Since she hadn't done any work all morning, I told her she couldn't go.  Over the next few minutes she grew more persistent, until her attitude got so big I took her out into the hallway.

I asked her what was going on with her- "Why are you acting like this?  I have heard you are such a great kid (which I tell all of the trouble makers) and I expect better behavior in my classroom."  She responded that she just really had to go to the bathroom and it was an EMERGENCY.

An emergency.

Famous last words.

I allowed her to go to the bathroom, against my better judgment.  Afterall, the girls bathroom is just across the hall and down one door, and I can peek in at pretty much any moment if necessary.  She had ninety seconds.

Ninety seconds goes by, and I'm not surprised when she doesn't return.  While I'm teaching the rest of the students, I'm actually contemplating how I am going to punish her: lunch detention?  A stern talking-to?  Another minute goes by.  And then another.  And another.  I can hear the water in the bathroom running, and I just know she's playing in it, trying to waste time.

The minutes keep passing.  I'm checking out the clock.  I stop hearing the water and she still hasn't returned.

I get the students writing.  I RUN the twelve steps to the bathroom.  Empty.

I PANIC.  Panic, panic, in a way I have never experienced before.  Except that time I thought I lost my dog, maybe that comes close.  Except she's not a dog, she's a child, and she's not even MY child, so I'm really screwed.

At that time, the wonderful band teacher from next door comes by just to check in on me.  (I'm convinced my internal panic blanketed the building.)  He asks if everything is going okay, because he knows these eighth graders suck already.

I pull him into the hallway.  With the most shame and desperation I may have ever felt I said, "Uh, everything is actually not so okay.  Um...I lost one.  A student, I mean, I lost a student- I can't find her!"

"That happens," he says.  THAT HAPPENS??

Then he asked me which one.  And my face turns red.  It's the second day of school and I haven't even taken attendance.  I DON'T KNOW WHICH ONE.  A girl one?  I do know that much.

I run inside my classroom and begin frantically taking attendance, which I can do without the students by checking their seat numbers, and matching them to the body sitting in the desk.  I get to the number of the chair where that student was supposed to be sitting and realize it's supposed to be empty.

I begin asking the students sitting next to the little juvenile delinquent if they know the name "of that student I kicked out of my classroom."  (A girl's gotta save face, you know.)  No one knew.

She's new

I've never seen her before

I don't know her...

LIARS!

I pull another girl out into the hallway, my roster in hand.  I ask, in the most calm and sweet tone of voice possible:

Can you tell me the name of that girl?

 Oh yeah, that's Brittany Wright*.

(*Names have been changed, duh.)

My eyes scan the roster two or three times.

Well, why isn't Brittany on my class list?

Brittany?  She ain't even in this class, she in seventh grade.

She in seventh grade.  

She wasn't even one of my students, this little shit.

An hour later, I see this girl with the media teacher across the hall.  I know they have a good relationship because he introduced me to her before (which is why I didn't find her out of place in my room) and later told me that she was a wild one and I should try and get on her good side.

I smile at them, and "jokingly" tattle on her, thankful I have him to help me take care of the situation.  After making sure she understands that behavior is unacceptable, he asks where she was supposed to be.

"Recess," she answers.  "I got bored."

New Years Day

To My Dear Reader,

I made it through the day.

I know who my problem students are.

I didn't get my schedule until 720 this morning (school starts at 715- first period at 730).

I am exhausted and I imbibed a bit tonight.  My whole life revolves around school right now.  I am in the building for twelve or so hours.  I come home and do schoolwork.  I go to bed.  I get up and start again.

I miss Mr. Peaches.

You'll hear more soon.  I just want you to know I survived.  It feels like a big accomplishment right now.

Goodnight, friends.

New Year's Eve

 
My students come tomorrow.  I'm so not ready.

Though, I hear you are never really ready for the first day of school.  I have spent the last three business days in my building for twelve hours at a time, leaving only to complete tasks which are directly school related (I had to go to Best Buy today to buy some cables to make my projector work).  My room really came together today, however, and I even made a few allies.

Today the biggest issue is that I found out I have to teach one group of sixth graders for 100 minutes.  At the end of the day.  Did I mention they are sixth graders?  Do you have any idea what sixth graders are like at 2pm? 

Since Mr. Peaches started Law School (which is going swimmingly, by the way), we haven't seen too much of one another.  Our Date Night- which is on Saturdays- was spent in the study, on two separate computers doing school work.

My dinners lately have consisted of chips and dip, something that I never buy, but happens to be in the house from the BBQ, when 70 people came over and it rained.  But they all brought dip, so there's that.

I have a lot to do for tomorrow still.

But first thing on my list is another glass of wine.

Wish me luck.

The One Where You Threw Up

Today I spent four glorious hours in my classroom (not this one).  I hadn't seen this room since my first time at the school in June, and I was anxious to get to it and make it mine.  After I picked up my key (!!!) the first hour was spent trying to get my car as close to the nearest exit as possible so I could unload the boxes of "Teachy Stuff" I have been hoarding for the last two years.  In the end I think I made thirteen trips, but it's all in there, so let's not dwell on that.

The second hour was spent sitting in different locations and staring.  Staring at my desk, staring at their desks, staring at the chalkboards that line the room.  Do I want the students to face this way or that way?  How do I want the seats organized?  Where do I want that poster?  This one?  Where is my teacher's chair?

I spent the third hour asking a myriad of questions to an innocent and curious teacher who wandered in to meet me (sucka!): Is there a two-way intercom since there is no phone?  Can I expect a teacher computer?  Do they have LCD projectors in this place?  Can I have some erasers for my chalkboards?

(The answer to all of the above is a big, fat NO, by the way.  Welcome to unequal distribution of funds, which has been ruled unconstitutional.)

Anyway, the fourth hour I swung into action.  I started drawing diagrams of different seating arrangements, trying to make the most of the space in my room while creating a warm environment.  I moved all the desks in different clusters, facing different directions, and the same for my desk and the bookcases.  Then I started working on bulletin boards so I could ignore that task for awhile, because it is pretty daunting.  But then I got back to it, and finally- an idea.

So, the toughest part- how to orient the room- is finished.  I stared for another long while.  I walked around, pretending there were students in the room who needed my help, trying to see if I could get to them quickly without having to move any furniture.  I imagined their little bodies occupying the empty spaces and the Spanish names they would choose.  I got excited to meet them.

In that moment it seemed I had been waiting all summer to meet these kids- my kids- and I couldn't wait to see their faces and experience their personalities.  I had prepared their space and thought a lot about their arrival.  I was ready (I'm not, though).  I wanted them to hurry (I don't, though).  I felt maternal (I'm not, though).

Then I yakked from all the cheese.

Six more days.  Pictures to come.

Day One

So, there you have it.

My first day of being a teacher is officially over, as today was Orientation- Day One, and Mr. Holden greeted me warmly at the door.  I loved every second, though I know most teachers grow to hate meetings, orientations, and professional development, it is all still bright, shiny, and new to me.

Right now I am waiting on Mr. Peaches to get home from his orientation so we can go enjoy a dinner to talk about our days and celebrate the OFFICIAL beginning of a huge new chapter in our lives.  Huge, huge, huge.

Last Friday we met with the jeweler who will be making my engagement ring (more on that to come).  Today the impression kit for our wedding bands arrived.

I think this is the happiest I've ever been.


And it has little to do with the fact that I came home to 19 dead flies.

Scoreboard

Home/Señorita Peaches: 19

Guest/Fly Clan: 5

You thought I was exaggerating yesterday, didn't you?
Tsk tsk, Dear Reader, tsk tsk.

Update: Dinner was great.  We have now pwned 29 flies.

Update: 8/17- 32 flies.  I haven't seen any more.  Take that, Bitches!

Am I Becoming a Hundred-and-eighty-five-pound Fly?

This is what woke me up this morning:

This disgusting thing was not just buzzing around my head, no he was diving like a fighter pilot onto my face while I snoozed, over and over and over.  The fourth time, I finally covered my head with a blanket, which kept the fly off of my face, but did not stop him from trying to pull me from my slumber.

When I finally made my way downstairs I encountered all of his friends.

You see, we hosted the Pre-Law School BBQ for the new law students last night and- though it rained and we ended up with fifty people in our small apartment- the flies made their way in as well and I think they have grown to equal our guests in number.

The Peaches' orientations begin tomorrow, Dear Reader.  And that's what we are going to focus on for the rest of the day- as soon we get our first strip of very classy fly paper.

Wish us luck!

Update:  We have caught four flies in ONE HOUR with the $1.50 classy fly paper.

Scoreboard

Fly Clan- 8

Señorita Peaches - 4

(But the game isn't over yet!)

A One-Time Fee for Starting Your Career

The days go by so quickly lately. 

I have been spending a lot of time focused on the upcoming wedding- for which we now have a venue, dress, and date- and the upcoming school year, for which I am still totally unprepared.  I don't really know how that has happened, since I spent two full-time years preparing for teaching and one month planning a wedding, but there it is.  Unprepared and scared, but undeniably, uncontrollably excited.

Today in the mail I received some classroom goodies I purchased last week from this amazing website that I believe should pay me royalties I have been promoting it so much. 

Anyway, I got some dorky, hippie-themed posters:

Some adorable posters:

and then I headed over to eBay for some useful posters.

I also had a super fun time using Shutterfly to blow up my pictures from Spain, which I plan to laminate and use on the walls as well.

Purchasing the posters to hang on my classroom walls this week has been a very expensive endeavor- around $200- but I keep telling myself that I could use these things for my entire career if I want.  Having them is also making school, which is already just around the corner, seem even closer and more real than ever.

Breathe.

and buena suerte.

The Dating Game

Since moving to our new, less cold city, Mr. Peaches and I have begun to take on meeting new friends (though our existing network of friends is excellent and we love them all) so we can broaden our horizons a bit and, well, to have more friends.  In order to accomplish this, we are officially courting our first couple- "Double Dating," if you will.

Before your mind makes the giant leap to the "Couples Seeking Couples" websites and calling the authorities because people like that should not be teaching our children- Our CHILDREN!, allow me to explain.

Mr. Peaches and I have friends who are part of an established couple of which we know and have spent time with both partners in the couple.  However, one partner always has a stronger friendship with either Mr. Peaches or I, which caused the foursome to know one another in the first place.

For instance:

Your gal Peaches becomes good friends with someone from school.

It so happens that the friend is married, or coupled.

In turn, Mr. Peaches and I, since we are coupled, will occasionally spend time with my friend and her partner/husband/whatever term they have applied to themselves.

But here's the kicker- 

Mr. Peaches does not have a friendship with the other person in the couple.

Which can end up with them standing around awkwardly while we chat and enjoy ourselves.

(This can easily be said for vice versa as well.)

But this past week, we have started spending time with a new couple as a couple.  Mr. Peaches and I met the male partner at a law school orientation months and months ago, and, as of five days ago, we all live in the same, less cold city.  

The males in our two couples have been working out the details of our "dates," but their friendship is not very developed, leading to our official courting.

I call it courting because "dating" a couple is weird, weird, weird.  It is very much like being single and dating another person in the beginning.  You become self conscious about many things you do, say, and wear- you may even bring small gifts like booze.  Should we call them or wait until they call us?  I don't want to seem overeager.  You make your own couple as attractive as possible and I have just been reminded that ending a date is the most awkward thing in the world.

Sorry Mr. Peaches, but when I was dating- say what you will about me, Dear Reader- I would often just kiss my date at the end of the night so that I could skip the whole awkward thing.  Shake hands?  Hug?  Eh, whatever.  You never know what the other person is going to do.  He sticks his hand out as I go in for the hug or something else, it's always a drag.  If I liked the dude even a little he got a kiss- because we could both be on the same page with a kiss...for better or for worse.

But you can't kiss another couple on the mouth.

At least, not if you aren't into that type of thing.  At the end of our first date, there were handshakes all around and awkward sputters of "let's do this again," "have you seen that movie?" and "it was really fun."  We set up a second date for the next day.  "Too soon!"  I could hear my inner single girl screaming, trying to give some advice and break out of three years of cobwebs.

Last night, after we watched the movie, there was just a waving goodbye.  A forced smile.  Awkwardness.  All around.  He asked what we were doing this weekend, and later on this week.  "TOO SOON!" She screamed. 

I listened to her this time.

After all, she was pretty good in her old days.

(Update: There are dating websites dedicated to this specific cause.)

Oh, the Internet.

Okay, so I came upon this little gadget randomly (though I use the website from which it came often) from perusing a blog I found linked from a friend's blog.

And I love it.

And I love you, Dear Reader, so I thought I would share.

Washington DC restaurants on Urbanspoon

I'm certainly an opinionated woman, but when it comes to dinner, Mr. Peaches and I are quite the typical passive couple. This solves the problem and makes going out to dinner much more interesting. Love it.

Ouch, my ovaries!

They hurt, Dear Reader.

Too.Much.Awesome.

This has been a seriously amazing week.

Mr. Peaches and I decided to order our wedding bands, which are costing us a pretty penny (but we decided we would rather spend the money on something we would be wearing daily forever than on bills or even a wedding).  We are purchasing them from a couple we found online who makes jewelry and specializes in wedding bands like these:

That's a fingerprint you see there- my band will have Mr. Peaches's fingerprint and vice versa.  If you are interested in learning more about the artists or their jewelry, be sure to ask- or wait for me to pay mine off when I'll post a link to their online store.

Yesterday I made our very first appointment to meet with someone and scout out their venue.  It is August 4.  While I'm reasonably sure we will not be celebrating our wedding there, it will be nice to "practice" and ask questions and start to learn how to navigate The Wedding Game.  Gulp.

The First Venue

On the teachy front, I received my orientation information and I got even more excited about teaching next month.  There are three and a half days of events, which I (mistakenly?) believe will be very beneficial to the beginning of my school year.  There is a seminar on de-escalation, student violence, maintaining teaching credentials, and a full afternoon meeting with my department about the curriculum (!!!).


Today I learned about my textbook, including the title and found out there are supplemental plans and curriculum maps for the sixth and seventh grades.  Holy excitement, Batman!  I get to pick them up next Thursday and meet the woman who is (I guess?) in charge of the curriculum for the Spanish/World Languages Department with my City Schools.

Mr. Peaches even received his Law School schedule this week (!!).

Then my friend Miss Mae came over and we talked for hours and hours.  It felt good to chew on life and be "girly" with someone in person.  Miss Mae is also beginning her first year of teaching next month and she just got married last year, so there was a lot to chew.

As I said on my facebook status today, "There is so much awesomeness right now my head might explode." 

Here's to awesomeness.

My So-Called Life

My life of late:

I suspect this will be my life for at least the next nine months.  Stick around, this should be funny (for you, Dear Reader, you sadist).

Señorita Peaches = Nostradamus

On February 6, 2009 I wrote this:

"2010 should bring at least one of these things: law school, the start of a master's degree, a move to Spain, teaching Spanish (somehow the least likely of these things), or a second "real job". And, particularly if my family has anything to say about it, a marriage certificate."

I'm not ready to start a master's degree, and we aren't moving to Spain.  However, in 32 days, Mr. Peaches will start law school and I will officially be "teachy" (as we have termed it here in the Peaches household), which is to say a "real" teacher in a "real" classroom who is really scared shitless.

It has been against so many odds that Mr. Peaches and I made it to this moment.  We lived through seriously crippling poverty, and got by on public loans, private loans, and grants and loans from the Bank of Mama Peaches (also known as "the money tree out back").  I fought professors and department chairs, mentor teachers, and occasionally Mr. Peaches.  We took summer classes and I tripled up on credits by studying abroad.  Praxis.  LSAT.  We did this all living in a COLD place I DO NOT LIKE where it SNOWS two feet in APRIL!

But we made it.

We're still broke, actually, like I-can't-get-my-friend-of-21-years-a-wedding-gift broke, but in the next four weeks Mr. Peaches is going to get his first $9K student loan check from Law School and then I will start receiving paychecks and our financial worries will be nearly eradicated indefinitely (or so we think).  And I can send my friend a statue of herself made of gold to symbolize my happiness for her love.  Or something like that.  Until then, we're just letting our bills...be.  Pile up.  Collectors call.  WHATEVER.  We made it.

The marriage certificate is not happening this year, but last Wednesday, Mr. Peaches was telling me a long story about our future travels to Paris (a city I am totally in love with and convinced I must one day move to).  He talked about drinking coffee on the Champs-Élysées and visit the artists at Montparnasse and playing fetch with Mr. Holden at the Arc de Triomphe.  We would eat baguettes and walk hand in hand all day long.

This kind of fantasizing is not unusual when you are poor (we even fantasized about gourmet dinners), and we have talked about living this way many times before- sometimes it's Paris; sometimes it's Madrid; hell, sometimes it's Cincinnati, but it's always lovely.

This time was different.  This time my heart starting beating faster and some crazy love was in the air.  Hormones and shit, I don't know.  I started thinking, for some totally unknown reason, "If he does not ask me to marry him right this second I will die."

And then he did.

And I said yes.

And cried like a little girl.

So we're doing it.  Details to follow.

Apparently it is still love, Dear Reader, when you take the bigger piece of the pie.

It's a Berry Fun Summer!

One of my favorite people is a woman I call Miss Mae, who I worked with at the only serious job I've ever had.

When Mr. Peaches and I moved to our new city, which Miss Mae shares, she and her wife brought us this:

It wasn't supposed to grow any berries this summer, but we got eight!

¡Bienvenidos a la clase de Señorita Peaches!

Today Mr. Peaches and I decided we would try again to go get my ID Badge for MY NEW JOB. 

Important Note: The badge has to last three years unless you decide to pay for a new one.  Now, I'm not a terribly photogenic human being, so I did primp a little more than usual for this trip to the administrative building so I would at least have that extra bit of makeup on my side.  After all, I have to use this thing forever.

However, when we arrived at the offices, I learned that the Photo ID printing machines (...?) are down.  Still.  Last Monday when I signed my contract the Photo ID area was closed.  I went back on Friday to try again, because this is the very last thing I need to do before I am totally official and I am anxious to get it done.  The system was down, but "should be back up in a few hours."  Today? Still down.

Don't get me wrong, if this is my only problem becoming an official City Schools employee, I'm all about it.  I only live three miles from the office.  I don't even need to take the highway.  It's not that inconvenient.  However, that stupid machine IS the very last barrier between me and being a full-fledged employee so I'm getting a little miffed about that.

Regardless, Mr. Peaches and I decided to head out to my new Middle School anyway, so we could check out my classroom, which has changed since I met with my boss (the principal, duh) last week.  Instead of #108, my room is #210.  And I love it.

Here is my new desk (though something tells me the current teacher will take her chair with her):

And here are my new students' desks (there will be thirty total desks in my room, but I'm still holding out hope that the classes will be smaller than that):

 

 Here is the "front" of the room, which I am considering changing into the back:

I have four chalkboards, three bulletin boards, been twice promised an LED Projector for my songs and PowerPoint slides, and tons of space.  I even have a class website. 

 It's going to be a fun year.

Appley Goodness

A question for you, Dear Reader:


Is it still love if you take the bigger piece of pie??

.

Oh yeah, and happy 4th!

I know it's been a while since I last posted, Dear Reader.

Wanna know what has been taking up most of my free time?

That's right, an eleven year-old computer game.  I apparently never got the memo about its complete and total awesomeness.  I find myself playing for three or so hours at a time and when I lay down at night (once at 430am due to my new found addiction) I think about how I can improve my city.  This is all thanks to Mr. Peaches.

In addition to obsessively zoning residential areas, I turned in the last stray items to make my employment official and am just waiting on the school board to stamp their approval at the Board meeting next week.  I have been creating list after list of things I need and things I want for my classroom and brainstorming ways to use cheaper products.  Later this week I get the textbook for the 8th graders (which I don't plan to use, except as a guide) and my City Schools Employee Photo ID.

I'm getting pretty darn excited.

Introducing Señorita Peaches...for reals

I haven't written much about my job search for two reasons: 1) It was totally depressing and 2) I didn't want to jinx any positive vibes.  However, last week was one hell of a week for your Señorita.

On Monday, I was offered a contract at a charter school.  If you are as lazy as I'm am, I'll go ahead and tell you that a charter school is a public school (funded completely or mostly by taxes) that literally writes its own rules.  It is not subject to many of the state laws on education and doesn't have to meet the same standards.  There are good- even necessary- charter schools.  They exist.  But, at least in my view, for the most part they are doing a disservice to students and tax-paying citizens alike.

My contract was not at one of the good charter schools.  It came with 6 personal/sick days, 60% paid medical insurance, a mandatory nine-hour workday, a shared classroom, and traveling between two different schools.  For $30K.

Gulp.

I asked for some time "to crunch some numbers," and waited and waited and waited for more schools to get back to me.  But they didn't.  I called and was told positions were filled, or I was ignored completely.  I got desperate.

On Thursday, as my Friday deadline quickly approached, I contacted my local City Schools...again.  I first interviewed with them in March and have called and emailed at least eight times since, but I knew if I didn't call nothing would happen.  Better to call and be told to never call back than have to seriously consider taking this crappy job without exploring all of my options.

I was told there were two available Spanish positions, both at middle schools, and that my information would be "forwarded to the principals."  I was brushed off, and I had to really begin to consider signing with the charter.

Then Friday came.  On Friday, the HR director called me and said,

"Honey, I got with the principal of one of those middle schools.

He told me if I liked you to go ahead and hire you, honey.

So I'm calling to ask you if you want the job."

Do I want the job?

DO I WANT THE JOB??

And today I met my principal, toured my school, and nearly cried in my classroom.  Afterwards, I signed a contract.  I have my own classroom (#108), a mandatory seven-hour workday, a mentor program for first year teachers, $60/month for medical and dental, free vision, and $42,333.

Much improved.  My orientation is August 16- the same day as Mr. Peaches's law school orientation.  Perfection.

Woot Woot!

My state Board of Education updated this on their website today.

I'm a teacher!

Good ahead...click on it.  Take a look.

:)

Love.Summer.

What else needs to be said?

My Possessed Dog

Okay, I know that I'm posting a video of my dog sleeping, and I'll understand if you stop visiting my blog, Dear Reader.  First though, pay special attention around the 40-second mark.

My dog is freaking adorable.

Meet Macaroon

I'm a Mac.

When I was in the sixth grade, I learned what a Mac was.  I learned from a friend who loathed Microsoft, and he- as so many Mac users do- went on and on and on about it.  I mostly had no idea what he was talking about and spent my time with him nodding my head. 

Fast forward seven years to my first year at college.  That friend decided to apply for a Genius job at the Apple store.  The Geniuses are the ones who sit behind their very own counter at the back of the store and fix everything- computers, ipods, and now ipads and iphones.  They get trained in California at Apple Headquarters.  I told him that if he was successful at getting that competitive job, I would buy myself an Apple computer and make the switch.  I thought it was a safe bet from my end- yeah he loved Apple, but that's not enough to get a job fixing them, right?  Wrong.

I bought an Apple and I was hooked.  In 2006, when I ran over my iBook WITH MY CAR (it still turned on) Apple replaced it.  Like, gratis (hence, her name- FreeMac).  They have solved all of my computer-related problems with the greatest of ease, and beyond my expectations.    

Dear Reader, meet Macaroon.

I stepped on her last week and this is the view I am constantly living with, trying to see if I'm spelling words correctly, or reading them right.  I have to move the browser window around to make sure I can see a picture.  It was a pretty sad day.

Well, it was sad until today when the insurance company told me they would send me a check for $1240 to "get her fixed."  

Since Mr. Peaches has been eyeing a MacBook Pro (to be named Big Mac) and I have been wanting a desktop (to be called Macaroni?  Who knows?) I think things are looking up for this little Mac Family.  I'll have Macaroon fixed by a friend for <$100 and splurge on the rest in August.

We'll have one TV and five computers for two people (but one of the computers doesn't work).  Makes sense, right?  At least we still only have two cars (mine's called Cathy).