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).