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It's been a decent birthday. A group of friends from work took me to the Old Spaghetti Factory for lunch on Thursday. Gooey birthday dessert with a candle, singing waitstaff performing a blissfully short and cheerfully moronic 'Happy Birthday' song, etc. We had fun. I take birthday wishes seriously and was happy to have a candle to blow out.

I had another chance for wishmaking today when, on our company party Argosy cruise, I was called to the stage for 60 or so people to sing happy birthday to me. The regional director's ( a woman for whom we have, shall we say, mixed feelings) birthday is this Sunday. While everyone was singing Happy Birthday to me, I wished her a happy birthday as well. She must be serious about wishmaking too, because she blew out the candle on my cake. I walked back to my table with the slice of cake and announced what had happened and everyone thought it was a hoot. Tina summed it up well "That is so typical of her! It's like she was saying 'We're done with your birthday thing- Whuff!- go back to your table" Christy pulled a lighter from her purse, rekindled my birthday candle, and I got to make my wish. Thank you.

From this picture, you might imagine that my birthday wish was to lose weight:



That's not a wish, it's a plan. I simply have to face the fact that sugar is to me what vodka is to an alcoholic. Hi Wendy, welcome.

Here are some other pictures from the cruise, which was wonderful. It was a clear but cold and windy day. I was the only person on the boat to (briefly) venture onto the deck. It was blustery indeed. It was far more pleasant to enjoy the tour of Elliott Bay from inside the cabin.

Oregon, Washington, Arizona, Whatever...

I finally got my Washington driver's license, three days before my Oregon license was due to expire. I haven't lived in Oregon since March of 2004. Yes, I should have gotten a Washington license when I moved to Seattle in March of 2004, and yes, I should have gotten an Arizona license when I moved to Phoenix in March of 2006 (I always move in March...it's weird) but the important thing is I now have a state-appropriate license.

This means I'll probably move to Tennessee next month. No, actually, March. It's always March.

We're Easily Amused

"This student's last name is Nibblet" I casually commented.

Shrieking laughter from the cube behind me. Shrieking laughter from me. With tears streaming down our faces and gasping for breath we pondered if her father was the Jolly Green Giant. "What if....what if... she one day became president...Hail to the Chief would be played for (wiping tears away) President Nibblet."

Like I said we're easily amused. Be happy for us.

The Aroma of Tacoma

If you had asked me ten years ago to tell you what Tacoma was like, I would have told you (even thought I'd never been there at the time) that it was a crime-ridden city that smelled like paper mills. I've been told that ten years ago that was somewhat true. Tacoma has since gentrified into a (mostly) lovely little oasis of sparkling fountains, funky coffee shops, and nice walking trails. Granted, the view from my 14th story window reveals industrial smokestacks, belching out vast quantities 24 hours a day. But the famous 'Aroma of Tacoma'? Nonexist. Until today. I stepped outside and it smelled like sauerkraut.

Let's hope this kraut thing does not start to occur on a regular basis or I'll be transported back in space and time to Pumpernicks in Miami. Pumpernicks, an authentic Jewish deli (no ham) always had gleaming metal buckets of sauerkraut on each table. They also had a gleaming metal bucket of these truly frightning baseball-sized pickled green tomatoes, but I covered weird food in my last post so I'll leave it at that.

I'm in the computer lab at work (instead of at my desk) ADD at full throttle. I simply can't concentrate on work right now. Thanksgiving vacation is coming not a moment too soon.

Too Busy to Blog

The Future of American Education

I don't feel like writing about my personal life.

Ok, well, here:

Satisfaction with work: Dwindling
Relationship with police sargeant: Over
Dieting: Unsuccessful
Last book read: Peyton Place

For filler and / or possible interest, here is my response to a discussion question on future trends in education for my 'Standards in Education' Class:

The future of standards-based curriculum and instruction will be partially determined by future trends and events in our society. If our schools grow more violent, an increasing number of parents may choose to home school their children, and / or have them attend school online. More students may start attending private schools. With shifting dynamics like this in place, it will be difficult to enforce standards.

Within public schools, standards will continue to adhere to what the market will bear, so to speak. College-bound students will likely invest extra time in supplemental education and or preparation classes in order to pass graduation exams. Ambitious students have always done this to pass college entrance exams like the SAT. Having to pass graduation exams will put extra pressue on them.

It is not likely that standardized testing will go away. It may become more culturally sensitive since it is under fire for not being so. I suspect that more schools will offer alternatives to passing scores on graduation exams. This may lead to the sort of stratification schools had before the 1960s or so, in which there was a distinction between students who were 'vocational' and students who were 'college prep'.

Hopefully schools across the country will focus on each others' best practices. It's not going to be easy to find the right balance between setting high expectations and making unrealistic demands.

*&#%!

I received word today that one of my students died. He was a new student and hadn't posted into his online classes in over a week. I'd left him several messages and knew something was wrong when he didn't return them; he and I'd had a great rapport when he came in for his initial appointment.

His father called the main number today and it was reported to me that Scott had died. I don't remember exactly how old he was, but he was under 30. He had some physical deformities and had told me of kidney problems but I figured he'd still get to live out his life. He was a positive person, with a lot of goals for himself. He had a great sense of humor and was one of those people who I'm sure was liked by everyone who knew him. I'm sorry if it seems morbid to be writing about this, but he was a neat guy and I just want to pay him tribute.

In more upbeat news, I am deciding on a Halloween costume. What I really want to be is an angel. Yes, that's right. Don't laugh. However, I just started dating a police sargeant, so I had the idea of going as one of the women you see on the TV show 'Cops' (if you happen to watch it. I watch it about as often as I thumb through the National Enquirer in the grocery store line, which is to say every now and then if I am really bored). I'd wear a stained tank top with a thick white bra strap hanging out. I'd get a fake tattoo on my upper arm and mess my hair up. I'd complete the look with sweat pants from WalMart and a touch of garish makeup.

But no, I'd rather be an angel. So an angel I shall be. That is if the Halloween Superstore isn't sold out of angel costumes by the time I finally manage to get down there.

Platinum Blonde

Two days before my 40th birthday I dyed my hair bright red. I lived in Portland at the time, and flew to Denver for a lovely party my friend Martha was hosting for me. I hadn't seen my Denver friends for almost a year. You know how when you make a major change in your appearance, it's the first thing people comment on when they see you? You know how they ooh and aah and fuss over you? That's only if it looks good. No one said anything. Not a word. Finally, I turned to one of my friends and graciously implored "Would you please say something about my *ucking hair??!" The best she could manage was "Oh...well, I guess I just need to get used to it."

Ok then, no more bright red.

Let's try copper. Let's try copper and wear a mauve twin set while on major network TV (a Portland station was running a feature story on the singles group I'd started). Copper and mauve. Very, very bad idea. Even without the mauve.
Next.

Ok, maybe something a little closer to home is the key. Blonde. But golden
blonde. And new makeup to go with it! I don't fully trust the Clinque salesgirl's choice of bright coral, but hey! I'm sure it looks better than I think! I just have to get used to it! That night I was cohosting an event with little southern belle Patsy (see the Ted Nugent Style of Home Decorating post). She took one look at me and a look of great distress came over her face. The kind of great distress expression most people reserve for seeing someone who's just been shot. "Windy" she hissed "That is the wrong shade of lipstick on yew. Yew go take that off raht now."
Do you think I said "Thank you very much for the excellent suggestion Patsy. I'll go do that right away." If you guessed 'Yes' you don't know me very well. After a few choice words the orangey smear on my lips stayed on. It was, however, never reapplied.

Actually with a few adjustments the golden blonde wasn't that bad. Light brown was pretty nice too. Dark brown? Won't be going back to that anytime soon.

For the past few years I've stuck with the tried and true- highlights. In Sweden I decided my hair needed some perking up, so I bought a highlighting kit. Thankfully the directions were not just in Swedish. They were also in German. Oh well, I've done my own highlights before, no problem. And yes, they came out well. A lighter blonde than I'd ever had but it looked good. Did Peter notice? No. Did he notice my zig-zag bangs the time I'd trimmed them with toenail clippers? (I was stuck in a minimally stocked cabin in Ugglarp, Sweden. What else was I supposed to use? A knife?) Yes.

My point of this whole bimbo-esque post? At 1:30 this afternoon I announced to my mananger that I was taking two hours off to have my hair done. "Investing in my professional image" I supplied. I went to the salon across the street and told the stylist I wanted cool blonde highlights. Really light. Platinum. And that's what I got.

When I got back to work, my whole team was in a meeting in the room next door. I walked in, planning to scurry to the nearest available seat when a very loud collective "Whooooo!" of admiration went up from the group, followed by an equally loud round of applause and lots of "Wow, it looks great!" type compliments. Never one to accept a compliment graciously I blurted out " I think I look like Edgar Winter!". Only about four people on my team are old enough to remember the albino leader of the Edgar Winter band, but never mind. When questioned why I didn't like it, I said I need to get used to it. I think I'm liking it though.

Within a few weeks I'll post a picture. I'm dieting. God help me.

Will this insipid post ever end?

Yes.

Sweden

I left for Sweden on October 13th, 2005. I wonder if 20 years from now October 13th will still be a significant date for me. Logic would dictate that it shouldn't be, but I've never been particularly logical.

For whatever reasons my memories of Sweden are very deeply etched.

In a weak moment around mid September, I called Peter. He is finally divorced, but big deal. He is distant in more ways than one. Yes, he was friendly but...whatever. Except for that one weak moment I've moved on.

Jacksonville, NC

As mentioned, my family gathered in Jacksonville, NC last weekend to see my nephew Jeff since he will be deploying soon for Iraq. We got to see Jeff and Taylor's house in Sneads Ferry, which is about half an hour from Camp Lejeune in Jacksonville. When I stopped to ask for directions to Peru road (pronouncing it like the country), I was told -in an 'you idiot' tone of voice - that it's PEE-roo road. Ok then. This is not to say that the area is redneck. It's actually much nicer than I thought. From what we saw of the base, it didn't look much different from an ordinary suburb. The foliage and beaches in the area are beautiful. The picture below is of Jeff. I won't go into the 'not only is he handsome, he's brilliant and has the kindest heart and is a wonderful person' thing again. Oops, I just did.

One of the highlights of the trip was getting to meet Jeff and Taylor's beloved dogs Brooklyn and Sierra. They are very bonded with the dogs, and the dogs are very bonded with each other. They like to walk together with both of their mouths on the same toy or frisbee. Sometimes they wrestle over toys like two wolf puppies.The picture below is of Sierra.

Here's Sierra doing what Jeff and Taylor call the bone parade. She picks a bone off the floor and walks across the back of the couch five or six times in a row. Then she walks across the laps of whoever happens to be on the couch, in this case Mom and Dad.

Doing the aforementioned sharing the toy thing.

Mom, Jeff, doggies, and my ridiculously skinny sister Jill at the beach.

Being used to Oregon coast beaches in recent years it was amazing to wade in bathtub-warm water.

We went to a wonderful restaurant on Saturday night with a great view of the beach. The reception for the wedding party below (totally unrelated to us) ended up being in an adjacent room.

Performance Review

I had my first performance review today with my new manager. His assessment: "You're doing a fantastic job. I wish I could clone you ten times." Thanks. I like you too.

This is turning out to be a good job for me. I have a lot of fun with my coworkers and I enjoy working with students. I'm also surprised to find out how competitive I am. I'm expected to enroll four students a month. I already have seven for October.
Another comment from my manager was that everyone on my team admires me and looks at me as "the person who can get everything done."

In other news I am completely and utterly sick of school. With as hard as I'm working (I tend to work several hours of overtime a week) I just don't have the energy when I get home to do schoolwork. I'll muddle through these remaining three classes, but I'll be very happy when I'm done.

I spent this past weekend in Jacksonville, NC. My nephew is a 2nd lieutenant in the Marines and will be spending the next year in Iraq. In a short period of time he has become fluent in Arabic. He's amazinginly smart, and well, wonderful in every way. It was just about a perfect family gathering. I'll post pictures later this week.

eHarm

eHarmony has a new feature that lets you see your matches without having to pay first. I am grateful for this since, ever the optimist, I considered renewing my membership after three months of perfectly ridiculous and inappropriate matches. After the latest batch they emailed to me- "Mike is a 5'6, 58 year old meatcutter from Horsefart, Idaho. He says the three most important things to him in life are his Christian faith, his seven children, and his collection of George Strait memorabilia" - I am going to look elsewhere.

Besides, any site endorsed by a bloated megalomaniac like Dr.Phil is bound to be frightning.

Ruston Way

More Pictures From My Neighborhood

The back of my apartment building (I'm two floors from the top, 2nd window from the left)
Stadium High School. I think this may be one of the coolest-looking high schools in the country. The school is situated right at the point where Commencement Bay meets Puget Sound. In random news...

On Friday one of my student said "It's supposed to be beautiful next week" Being woefully out of sync with the rest of the world I pictured cool and cloudy. Turns out it's going to be in the 80s. Yuck. The only time I don't enjoy the mile walk to and from work is when its hot out. Rain doesn't phase me at all. I love walking in the rain. This baffles my coworkers who don't understand why I don't drive on rainy days. First of all I think it's absurd to drive when it's only a mile. Again, I'm out of sync with the average American who would probably drive to an office two blocks away. While I'm on my high horse, posturing not only as the queen of health and fitness but also as an environmentalist, please use half the recommended amount of laundry detergent. That's all you need- really.

I have a new manager at work. I was really sad to see my old one go since I really liked him. The new one is a Red Bull-guzzling Mormon (hello?? Actually I have to admit I think it's kind of cool that he's not bound by dogma) who offered to keep the office refrigerator stocked with said legal narcotic because he wants us to be "high energy all day, every day". He's an aggressive, corporate-climbing, former football player with a bone-pulverizing handshake. I'm working on liking him.

I'm going to Jacksonville, NC at the end of the month to visit my nephew who will be spending the next year in Iraq.

I want to make an overnight trip to the Oregon coast sometime in the next month or two. I can't think of any place I love more. Of all the places I've lived in or visited, the only one I don't miss is Denver. I hate Denver. There are only two things I miss about that area and that's Boulder and Red Rocks Ampitheater. Even though Boulder is only 35 miles from Denver it always felt like a different world to me. South Florida will always be part of my soul, but I can't really imagine living there now. And while I would never want to live in Phoenix again, I do have a few good memories of my time there. I may actually go back at some point to visit Dave. One place I really want to visit again is western North Carolina. My grandparents used to have a vacation home in Deep Gap, and I went to Camp Yonahlossee in Blowing Rock for several summers. I haven't been back since 1976. I especially want to visit Asheville which has morphed into the sort of weird, new-agey kind of town I love. I'd love to visit there in the Fall. The Blue Ridge mountains at that time of year are gorgeous.

I've worked for my current company for a year and a half as of September 6th. I haven't talked to Peter in five months.

Filler Post

Too busy to post past week or so. Finishing a class this week; will have more time after that (although I start a new one the very next day). Went to the Muckleshoot casino Saturday night with a couple of friends from work. I spent $20 on gambling and had a club soda with lime. Woo. I'm a party animal.

The casino was fun in that in had good live bands and a nice atmopshere in general, but I can't stand breathing air that's polluted with cigarette smoke. I'm starting to scare myself with what a militant anti-smoker I am becoming. It amazes me when I see young people smoking. Do they say to themselves "I want to spend a thousand dollars a year on a habit that will make me smell disgusting, render me repuslive to the opposite sex, and quite possibly kill me? Great idea, I think I'll start smoking!" Yes, I know. I was a smoker off and on in college. But that was when you could still smoke in restaurants and I think even on planes. There just seems to be an even clearer message now that smoking is so toxic and disgusting that if you must engage in your filthy habit please do so at least ten yards from any public building. I doubt that casinos will ever be completely smoke free- although though I do give Muckleshoot credit for having a smaller, completely non-smoking facility across the parking lot (but that's not where the band and all the fun stuff was).

Cube Culture

I'm moving up in the world. I now have a .....drumroll..... window cube. I feel a little bit less like I work in a dressing room. It's not a spectacular view, but it's a taller window than this picture shows, so I can see a lot of sky.
Some people deal in interesting ways with the lack of privacy in a cube farm. This coworker affords herself some privacy with this crepe paper 'door'.
I hate the 'Rah rah, let's gather in a circle and sing the Tupperware song' type of soy filler enthusiasm some corporate higher ups try to shove down your throat, but this is cute.

This Weekend

I went to Semiahmoo for the weekend to visit my parents and my precious puppy. Brandy went to the groomer a few days ago and was especially beautiful and silky. Last Thursday was my parents' 53rd anniversary. They are doing great. It is really inspiring to see a couple love each other so much after so many years. My dad is still a walking encyclopedia and my mom is still beautiful. Regarding the picture below, Brandy was not being very cooperative in my efforts to get a picture of my mom and Brandy together. This is the only one where Brandy isn't a blur from moving around.

Tacoma Farmers Market

I work on the 5th floor of the highrise in the background

Peazza

Tonight there was a special thing at work where we all had to stay until 8 pm. My manager offered to order pizza for everyone and asked for requests. As is more typical than not, the men all wanted fatty meat toppings (pepperoni and sausage). My manager enthusiastically concurred. Another woman and I called out that we'd prefer veggie pizza. My manager's response: "Veggie pizza? What's that? Does it have peas and carrots and corn on it or something?"

I think he was kidding.

Recommended Reading

The Glass Castle by Jeannette Walls.

Every time I finish a book I love, I want there to be a movie of it. I got lucky in that regard with Jennifer Weiner's In Her Shoes. I saw it in Sweden where it was titled i Hennes Skor, and I loved it. The movie adaptation of Rebecca Well's Divine Secrets of the Ya Ya Sisterhood was decent, but seemed to be a patchwork of promienent scenes from the book hastily cobbled together to placate the rabid fans. I've waited ten years for the film version of Wally Lamb's She's Come Undone, but if it hasn't happened by now, I doubt it's forthcoming.

Harry Potter? Who's he?

For some reason, although I love a lot of classic science fiction, I have little to no interest in Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings. Yeah, I know. I can hear all of you: "OH MY GOD! Are you kidding?? You don't know what you're missing!!!" Maybe one day I'll make an attempt, but for now all I can say is I'm too busy reading a wide assortment of other genres.

I hear the "You don't know what you're missing" thing a lot about seafood, all of which I hate except for canned albacore tuna (with lots of mayo). All I can say is lobster and crab activate a deep sense of primal dread in me, and I think they taste like poison. I was once at an art museum opening, a lovely catered event, when a friend suggested I try one of the cheese puffs. Cheese puffs. Yum. Sign me up. I bit into it and a second later wondered how I was going to manage to politely chew and swallow it in a ladylike manner. I managed to do so but then asked, in deep, earnest chagrin how my friend could "Do that to me". He shrugged and said sorry, he didn't know it was crab. Ugh! .

In other not-related-to-this-post's-title news, a friend of mine from Portland was in Tacoma this weekend. He used to lead the monthly hikes I coordinated for my singles group. Brad's a cool guy, very intellectual and creative, always excited about something new that he's doing. Right now he's into TV and video production. We walked Tacoma's waterfront on Ruston Way this morning, talking a mile a minute. Ruston Way is a gorgeous walk. I only live a few miles from it and am hereby vowing to myself to get there more often.