SuperGreat Fantastic News

So this week there is some SuperGreat Fantastic news to report--Amilynne landed her first real-live, need-a-college-education-for-this-one job. She's a teacher! She interviewed Wednesday, was hired on Thursday, and started Friday. Basically, the teacher she worked with to do her student teaching said that she was the best student teacher he'd seen in 30 years, the department head wrote her letter of recommendation, and now she works there.

And I have to think--how cool would it be to have Amilynne for your teacher? She is hip and cool and brilliant. Yesterday she was at the museum looking at an exhibit of Roman frescoes and working out a lesson plan for this week. I want to be in her class.

Anyway, that's the best news of the week. Hooray!

Mouse Fire

So if you have been as amused as I have been by the story in the news about the guy who tried to burn a mouse in a leaf pile, only to have the mouse (on fire) dart back at his house and burn the whole thing down, please make sure you have read Billy Collins' poem "The Country." There's a link to it (although stanza breaks are omitted) if you'll click on the title of this post.

Coming Through in Stereo

I know you won't be surprised when I report once again that living in my apartment is hell.

Here it is, after midnight, I'm trying to get some work done, and the music pours in--not from just one neighbor, but from the neighbors on the other side of me now as well. New people moved in about 6 weeks ago and the noise level has steadily increased. Now the music coming in is clearly audible no matter where I try to hide in my apartment, and at this moment, I kid you not, the discs the two neighbors are listening to have the exact same tempo and could be mixed quite neatly into one song by any talentless DJ who felt the urge. Me, I don't feel the urge at all. I just feel annoyed. Like I want to shoot up some stereos. I just can't believe that on a Wednesday night these people think they need to keep the whole world awake with their crappy music.

You'd think this really was the full-fledged ghetto. At this rate, it won't be long until it really is. Thug central, here we come.

Dare

I dare you to look at how cute Junior was at Christmas and not think he's the cutest baby ever.

Haiatus

Well, I didn't post for a while. The beginning of December brought Hell's wrath with it--finishing projects for my class, state testing, not to mention I still had to teach. Somehow I emerged from it all on the 17th still able to catch a flight home for the holidays. Home was blissful--far from the soul erosion that is my normal daily life. I finally got to see & play with Junior. What a sweet baby! He has gigantic blue eyes like searchlights and he loves to look around--in fact, he hates to be held in such a way that he can't look around--he won't let you do it--and he hates to go to sleep because it means he has to close his eyes. He is such a sweetheart and he wrapped his auntie around his little finger so fast.

One quick story about holiday shopping:

Before I went home, Thomas and I were out one day. He had taken me to a gallery to see some pottery that he liked a lot. After admiring the pottery, I was just looking around and I found the funniest little pewter pin. Just a small pewter square with a little jingle bell attached, and stamped on to it, it said "As Merry as I Get." Ha ha ha, I thought it was great, and as I picked it up to show Thomas, I noticed the $46 price tag. Gagging, I turned the price tag forward and said "Not that merry." We rolled our eyes, and the person working there, who had heard us from the back, came out laughing. "What does it say?" she asked, explaining that there was so much stuff in there that she couldn't keep up with everything. I showed it to her, and she just chuckled. She had thought she had heard me read "Not That Married." Which is probably a pin that someone would buy too.

One of the fantastic things that happened over the holiday was the discovery that Billy Collins has released another collection of poetry. Hooray! I grabbed one up for Amilynne, and, so as not to gift her a used book, I grabbed one up for myself as well. Splendid as usual.

But the best thing happened on the way home. Friday morning, Dad took me to the airport, and after I said goodbye to him at the security checkpoint, I went up to my gate and cried and cried. I was heartbroken to be leaving. They boarded us on the plane, and I sat there with tears running down my face, and then a Christmas miracle happened--they asked for 12 volunteers to bump--heavy snow in Minneapolis meant they had to take more fuel and fewer passengers. My hand shot up and I got off that plane as fast as I could. I got them to let me stay through Sunday (which I didn't do in the first place because it cost so much more than leaving on Friday), and I got a voucher for a round trip ticket to boot. Hooray! I get to go home again this summer! For free! I called home for dad to come get me and the next two days were great.

So that's a month in a few words. Too much shopping, and a bit of extra time at home. And now, if all goes well, I'll finish my master's degree in a year or so and I'll be that much freer. Commence the countdown.