The Un-Spring Break
I'm beating people to it. Before I hear all the great stories about Cancun and Miami and some Caribbean Island, I'm going to give the story about my spring break.
Day 1: Saturday, The Take-Off
Saturday is the universal take-off for spring break day, unless you went early on Friday. For me, Saturday consists of getting to an out-of-the-way high school to take the second half of my educator's exam. Sweeet. I love that all of my friends are either: a. on the beach, b. on their way to the beach, or c. back from the beach because they've had all the sun they can take (already). I look at my arm just to make sure that I didn't get any sun from walking around with the glare off the snow. Pasty white, check. So I get to the high school and I realize that I have no idea about the format of my exam. Yeah. I'm not exaggerating. See, the thing is, I passed the first half of the exam - I mean, REALLY passed - so I figured, ehh, I'll get the second. And, when I heard that it was impossible to answer half of the multiple choice questions because they're just so narrow (think "What's the rhyme scheme of most Ancient Egyptian poetry?" which is questioning whether you know hieroglyphics. Answer: Don't know, don't care). So I figured, well, I won't study for it because there's no way to know all of that stuff. I love this approach. I wouldn't suggest it for anyone.
I'll skip the part where I try to leave my cell phone and the person in front of me spends literally ten minutes trying to figure out what the guy means by, "Write a number on the sheet that is a number other than your cell phone number" and get right to where I realize that I am in for a rough afternoon. This happens when I go into the tiny classroom and discover that my assigned seat is right up front. I hate being up front for tests because I like to be in the back where I feel as though the pressure is somehow less. The person next to me has total tool written all over her. She's got about six number two pencils (I have two pencils that say "Boston Red Sox" on them, and I'm not really sure if they're number 2 because they're kind of ghettoish, I think I got them off some weird cart somwhere but I can't remember). Next to her armory of pencils, she's positioned a stop watch. And an inhaler. Now, I have nothing against asthmatics. I think it's a pretty serious condition. Those kids always got to skip running the mile in gym class, which is the only perk I can think of. But why does she need an inhaler while taking a test? Is it really going to be THAT exerting? I thought about maybe she just can't breathe on her own regularly, but then I thought no, she's just a dork like that. She must think that there's a possibility she's going to die in this exam, so she has to do this. I came to this conclusion because she was wearing green pleated pants, like that army green, pulled up so high that I can only say that I think her shirt was yellow. So that's my table partner. Great. I'm not even going to ask her about thumb wars while we're waiting.
Just as I come to that decision about the no-thumb war, I see her pick her nose and politely put it on the side of the table, towards her end thank god. Gross. I bet she's taking the math exam. (hahaha ZING!)
So the test begins, and guess what - she IS taking the math exam. The proctor begins and says, "Okay, so it's two now, so the test ends at six." She looks at me funny and I realize that I probably have this weird look of shock on my face, because I didn't remember that it's supposed to be four hours. That's how unprepared I am. I don't even know how long the test is going to be. I thought I'd be done in about two or three. How long can it take people to answer thirty multiple choice questions and write two essays?
And then when I open the test, I see that it's 100 multiple choice questions and two open-responses. Shit shit shit. I hate multiple choice reading comprehension, and there are about 80 of them on here. I remember having the specific thought that I did not want to take this test at all, but after spending money to sign up, and after trekking out here, I absolutely felt I had to. It was a horrible feeling. I decided to make the best of it, but I learned a few things from this experience:
1. I might have ADD because I kept thinking about anything BUT the test. I actually started thinking about movies like "A Walk to Remember" and had a serious 5 minute debate in my head about whether it was at all realistic that Shane West would fall in love with Mandy Moore. I settled it by saying absolutely not because she wore those jumpers.
2. That Shane West and Mandy Moore, despite their unrealistic love match, had a few good moments in their movie.
3. Mandy Moore's line about "I told you not to fall in love with me!" because she's going to die is actually a pretty funny line.
4. Nobody likes when you laugh outloud during a serious exam.
5. Finishing the test in two hours and twenty five minutes is either serious brilliance or academic suicide. We'll find out in about eight weeks.
Day 2: Sunday, The "I'm Here All Week" Feeling
For most people, this is a good feeling because you think this while looking at some great beach or you say it while watching tv from your nice bed or you are at the San Diego Zoo watching the panda bears. For me, it was, "Shit, I'm Here All Week" Day, because I realized that it would be a little difficult to get from Sunday to next Sunday getting up at 5:45 every morning and getting to school and coming back to just more work, with little distraction. Great.
This day, however, was made better when Dan and I went to Uno's and I guilt tripped him into paying for lunch. Then this odd thing happened where this five year old girl tripped and fell on her face and Dan didn't move one way to help her or anything. He says it was because he didn't want to be seen as a child molester, which makes me think that either society is way out of control with this stuff or I should be concerned about my friend.
Hmm. This is disturbing. I'm skipping to Monday.
Days 3-6: Monday-Thursday "Too Bitter to Think of a Good Title"
I like thinking about how when I'm getting up to go to school, most of my friends are going to bed. It's satisfying.
Also, I had this conversation with the guys who were here to tear up the escalators. Again. They put these brand new things in over the summer, and they've had to do major repairs each break. It's a phenomenal human failure. Anyway, the morning crew has been pretty nice to me. I think they might have taken pity on me when they saw me yelled at (again) by the B&G workers who seem to hate anybody that might have to leave the building and walk on their newly cleaned floors. I love how during breaks they are maniacal about this stuff and then when students return and the floors really DO need to be washed every night, they take it easy. Anyway, these guys were really nice and were talking to me about the escalators. He said, "Wow, I don't know about this, I don't know if they'll be ready by Monday."
"Monday?" I asked. "Try, umm, Sunday at 10 AM, when the building opens."
"You're kidding, right?"
"Umm, no."
"What the fuck? Marty, what the fuck? This girl here says they're reopening the building Sunday."
Marty: Right.
"Oh man, I'm going to be fired. Jesus H. Christ. Shit."
Elevator door opens. I get in. Thank God.
Also, as a quick note, I went to a birthday party and a funeral within 24 hours of each other. Can that count as a cool spring break story? I don't know yet. The birthday party involves $2.50 chicken sandwiches and everyone saying that they want to die because it's so cold out, and then the funeral involves death-defying drives in the Big Dig and someone's last words having to do with defining "snafu". I'll think about it.
Day 7: Friday "Is it Over Already?"
Truth be told, the week really did go by quickly. Here's where the true irony of the week plays out. I have about two minutes to write this all before I become late to meet my friend to go make a complete ass out of myself at some urban rebouding class. Here goes:
I am being observed by my supervising teacher today. I see my coooperating teacher (the "I'm Going to Make Fun of You Forever for being Hit On by a Troll" guy) already talking to my supervising teacher and when I get there, my supervising teacher says to me, "Oh, Mr. W as already said such nice things about you," to which Mr. W says, "Yeah, well, on the days she's sober, she's great." And then he laughs, I laugh, and this woman chuckles.
After the class, I meet with her in the library. She leans over, halfway through our discussion, and says quietly - and completely seriously, looking right in my eyes, "Now, I know that being a senior, you want to have fun your last semester and I know seniors are very involved in the bar scene, but with student teaching, you have to curb your alcohol."
Yeah. She didn't get the joke.
There's about a day break between the line above and all this, and I could add to that. It could be the obligatory "This Guy I Met On Spring Break" story, but the truth is, I don't feel like writing it all down. I will give you the highlight of the story, though, and that should tell you enough about the whole thing: I nailed four beer pong shots in a row.
So that's it. Spring Break 2005 in the books.
Day 1: Saturday, The Take-Off
Saturday is the universal take-off for spring break day, unless you went early on Friday. For me, Saturday consists of getting to an out-of-the-way high school to take the second half of my educator's exam. Sweeet. I love that all of my friends are either: a. on the beach, b. on their way to the beach, or c. back from the beach because they've had all the sun they can take (already). I look at my arm just to make sure that I didn't get any sun from walking around with the glare off the snow. Pasty white, check. So I get to the high school and I realize that I have no idea about the format of my exam. Yeah. I'm not exaggerating. See, the thing is, I passed the first half of the exam - I mean, REALLY passed - so I figured, ehh, I'll get the second. And, when I heard that it was impossible to answer half of the multiple choice questions because they're just so narrow (think "What's the rhyme scheme of most Ancient Egyptian poetry?" which is questioning whether you know hieroglyphics. Answer: Don't know, don't care). So I figured, well, I won't study for it because there's no way to know all of that stuff. I love this approach. I wouldn't suggest it for anyone.
I'll skip the part where I try to leave my cell phone and the person in front of me spends literally ten minutes trying to figure out what the guy means by, "Write a number on the sheet that is a number other than your cell phone number" and get right to where I realize that I am in for a rough afternoon. This happens when I go into the tiny classroom and discover that my assigned seat is right up front. I hate being up front for tests because I like to be in the back where I feel as though the pressure is somehow less. The person next to me has total tool written all over her. She's got about six number two pencils (I have two pencils that say "Boston Red Sox" on them, and I'm not really sure if they're number 2 because they're kind of ghettoish, I think I got them off some weird cart somwhere but I can't remember). Next to her armory of pencils, she's positioned a stop watch. And an inhaler. Now, I have nothing against asthmatics. I think it's a pretty serious condition. Those kids always got to skip running the mile in gym class, which is the only perk I can think of. But why does she need an inhaler while taking a test? Is it really going to be THAT exerting? I thought about maybe she just can't breathe on her own regularly, but then I thought no, she's just a dork like that. She must think that there's a possibility she's going to die in this exam, so she has to do this. I came to this conclusion because she was wearing green pleated pants, like that army green, pulled up so high that I can only say that I think her shirt was yellow. So that's my table partner. Great. I'm not even going to ask her about thumb wars while we're waiting.
Just as I come to that decision about the no-thumb war, I see her pick her nose and politely put it on the side of the table, towards her end thank god. Gross. I bet she's taking the math exam. (hahaha ZING!)
So the test begins, and guess what - she IS taking the math exam. The proctor begins and says, "Okay, so it's two now, so the test ends at six." She looks at me funny and I realize that I probably have this weird look of shock on my face, because I didn't remember that it's supposed to be four hours. That's how unprepared I am. I don't even know how long the test is going to be. I thought I'd be done in about two or three. How long can it take people to answer thirty multiple choice questions and write two essays?
And then when I open the test, I see that it's 100 multiple choice questions and two open-responses. Shit shit shit. I hate multiple choice reading comprehension, and there are about 80 of them on here. I remember having the specific thought that I did not want to take this test at all, but after spending money to sign up, and after trekking out here, I absolutely felt I had to. It was a horrible feeling. I decided to make the best of it, but I learned a few things from this experience:
1. I might have ADD because I kept thinking about anything BUT the test. I actually started thinking about movies like "A Walk to Remember" and had a serious 5 minute debate in my head about whether it was at all realistic that Shane West would fall in love with Mandy Moore. I settled it by saying absolutely not because she wore those jumpers.
2. That Shane West and Mandy Moore, despite their unrealistic love match, had a few good moments in their movie.
3. Mandy Moore's line about "I told you not to fall in love with me!" because she's going to die is actually a pretty funny line.
4. Nobody likes when you laugh outloud during a serious exam.
5. Finishing the test in two hours and twenty five minutes is either serious brilliance or academic suicide. We'll find out in about eight weeks.
Day 2: Sunday, The "I'm Here All Week" Feeling
For most people, this is a good feeling because you think this while looking at some great beach or you say it while watching tv from your nice bed or you are at the San Diego Zoo watching the panda bears. For me, it was, "Shit, I'm Here All Week" Day, because I realized that it would be a little difficult to get from Sunday to next Sunday getting up at 5:45 every morning and getting to school and coming back to just more work, with little distraction. Great.
This day, however, was made better when Dan and I went to Uno's and I guilt tripped him into paying for lunch. Then this odd thing happened where this five year old girl tripped and fell on her face and Dan didn't move one way to help her or anything. He says it was because he didn't want to be seen as a child molester, which makes me think that either society is way out of control with this stuff or I should be concerned about my friend.
Hmm. This is disturbing. I'm skipping to Monday.
Days 3-6: Monday-Thursday "Too Bitter to Think of a Good Title"
I like thinking about how when I'm getting up to go to school, most of my friends are going to bed. It's satisfying.
Also, I had this conversation with the guys who were here to tear up the escalators. Again. They put these brand new things in over the summer, and they've had to do major repairs each break. It's a phenomenal human failure. Anyway, the morning crew has been pretty nice to me. I think they might have taken pity on me when they saw me yelled at (again) by the B&G workers who seem to hate anybody that might have to leave the building and walk on their newly cleaned floors. I love how during breaks they are maniacal about this stuff and then when students return and the floors really DO need to be washed every night, they take it easy. Anyway, these guys were really nice and were talking to me about the escalators. He said, "Wow, I don't know about this, I don't know if they'll be ready by Monday."
"Monday?" I asked. "Try, umm, Sunday at 10 AM, when the building opens."
"You're kidding, right?"
"Umm, no."
"What the fuck? Marty, what the fuck? This girl here says they're reopening the building Sunday."
Marty: Right.
"Oh man, I'm going to be fired. Jesus H. Christ. Shit."
Elevator door opens. I get in. Thank God.
Also, as a quick note, I went to a birthday party and a funeral within 24 hours of each other. Can that count as a cool spring break story? I don't know yet. The birthday party involves $2.50 chicken sandwiches and everyone saying that they want to die because it's so cold out, and then the funeral involves death-defying drives in the Big Dig and someone's last words having to do with defining "snafu". I'll think about it.
Day 7: Friday "Is it Over Already?"
Truth be told, the week really did go by quickly. Here's where the true irony of the week plays out. I have about two minutes to write this all before I become late to meet my friend to go make a complete ass out of myself at some urban rebouding class. Here goes:
I am being observed by my supervising teacher today. I see my coooperating teacher (the "I'm Going to Make Fun of You Forever for being Hit On by a Troll" guy) already talking to my supervising teacher and when I get there, my supervising teacher says to me, "Oh, Mr. W as already said such nice things about you," to which Mr. W says, "Yeah, well, on the days she's sober, she's great." And then he laughs, I laugh, and this woman chuckles.
After the class, I meet with her in the library. She leans over, halfway through our discussion, and says quietly - and completely seriously, looking right in my eyes, "Now, I know that being a senior, you want to have fun your last semester and I know seniors are very involved in the bar scene, but with student teaching, you have to curb your alcohol."
Yeah. She didn't get the joke.
There's about a day break between the line above and all this, and I could add to that. It could be the obligatory "This Guy I Met On Spring Break" story, but the truth is, I don't feel like writing it all down. I will give you the highlight of the story, though, and that should tell you enough about the whole thing: I nailed four beer pong shots in a row.
So that's it. Spring Break 2005 in the books.
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