My Spanish Highschool Nightmare

It is January 17. Somehow I have survived a full semester of teaching high school Spanish (plus a few weeks). I decided to start writing again so that I'll have written record of this insane year I've had.

August and September - got to school every day at 5:30 a.m. to plan, organize, etc. Took home work every weekend to grade. Wrote up my first student within the first week of school. Wore heels that day-- the last day I ever taught in heels. Must work on being more calm when things like that happen... the adrenaline coursing through my body made me feel like my legs were about to topple out of the heels. Learned how to turn in copies, give quizzes, make tests, run the scan tron machine, and keep up with attendance and assignments. Met other teachers. Took every bit of advice offered in the halls or over drinks. Sunday rolled around and I had an overwhelming feeling that I would NOT make it through the week... let alone the year. That feeling would start to subside on Wednesday afternoon.

October- was finally able to fathom going out of town for a weekend (but not til the end of the month). Started getting to school at 6:00 a.m. Can't even describe the disastrous state of my apartment. Was sleeping in the guest room (bed more comfortable) but living out of my real room. Which equaled clothes littered all over each room. Finally started doing more grading during the week instead of all day Saturday. But Sunday was still primarily dedicated to grading and lesson planning. Wrote up a few more kids. One had a game boy in class. One wasn't even my student. Became a pro at taking cell phones up. I would definitely be able to do that in heels. Learned how to go on a field trip. Still had overwhelming feeling of dread and not making it... but it began to subside on Tuesday instead of Wed.

Nov-Dec --- Couldn't believe I made it to my birthday. Couldn't believe I was turning 28. Couldn't thank some students enough for thinking I was 24. Still didn't believe I'd make it to Christmas, but also took the evidence of survival up until this point as a sign that indeed I would make it. Learned how to make exams. Learned how to give exams. Learned that exam week is nice (no lesson plans or teaching) but also learned that I'm not so keen on being trapped in a room with the same high school kids for 3 straight hours. . . . with a heater running full throttle. I wore a summer, sleeveless dress in mid December and still needed a box fan running in my classroom. Fell in love with our high school basketball games. Went to an away game on a school night. Went to an away game on the Friday school was out. Realized we might have an obsession on our hands.

Loved Christmas break and started to see the bright sides of teaching. Not excited about going back. But after surrendering to the return, I realized the first day students were back that I was ok being back. No. More than that. I was kinda glad to see some of the little boogers. Maybe this isn't a nightmare after all. But I wouldn't exactly call it a pipedream. Here goes 2012.

Trip Home from Spain- wrote it but never posted

Home:   Woke up after 2 hours of asleep.  Felt so strange to be leaving.  But it's go mode.  Go down stairs and see ALL the other students clumped in the tiny lobby.  They hadn't gone to bed.  They were all crying.  I start crying.  Hugs hugs hugs.  Lots of hugs and tearful goodbyes.  But it doesn't last long.  We've got to go.  I get a cab with Melissa cause we are on the same first flight.  It is pouring rains.  A group of our boys are being so sweet helping people to get taxis and get stuff into the taxis.  

Driving in the dark in the rain to the airport in silence only interrupted by Melissa and my sobs.  

Bye bye old beautiful buildings of Valencia.  

Worst series of flight connections.  Madrid flight moved.  On phone thurs night for 2 hours with continental guy.   Get to airport and ticket not ready.  Spend two hours watching other people check in and go off towards security.  Some miscommunication had happened between guy on phone and Valencia.  Finally she says I can go.  I don't have to pay to check the bag.  I Barely make it to plane.  Stupid Ronika (girl in my program) in front of me in security with liquids in her bag!  Moron.  Left my passport at security.  I'm also moron.  Running running running. 

Barcelona:  had to go out of the terminal and get my tickets.  Lady said I had to pay for second bag that was checked in Valencia.  Almost cry.  Tell her what’s up.  She says take it up with her manager.  Show me your manager woman.  "Excuse me sir, but ..."  and I proceed to tell him about how this was all continentals fault and the Valencia airport people didn't make me pay for the bag so I don't see how it is fair that I pay for a bag that is already checked.  He claimed he didn't realize the bag was checked already.  And I don’t pay.

Newark:  Before landing in the U.S.... I at some point realize how close my flights are together.  We land and I barely make it through customs and onto the next plane.  I frantically butted in front of everyone in line (a long line) for passport control.  Then frantically waited on my bag.  Then rechecked my bag.  Then run run run to more security.  Uhhhh.  Awful. 

Charlotte:  had to haul -- and I mean run my ass off - to get on the next plane again.  Literally every time I sat down on a plane it was seconds away from taking off.  Sat next to sweet little marine boy.

I talk a lot these days.  We talked all about our travels. 

ARRIVE!!  (in Birmingham) Bags didn’t.  Who cares.  I barely got here. Kinda spacey airport lady

Stop at o’charleys to eat.  Ahhh American food. Tater skins, cheese wedges and CHICKEN FINGERS!  Honey mustard ahh. So tired.

Mom, Joe and I were talking about everyone crying at farewell lunch when the waitress walks up and decides to join the conversation  (reminder this is AL and she is wonderfully country)

Waitress:  What’re you talking about?

Me:   (slightly stunned).. umm you know.. when things end and you’re not really sad.

Waitress:  you mean like a funeral? 

Me:  umm yeah kinda

Waitress:  yeah.. my husbands great grandmother.. well no its his grandmother and my kids’ great grandmother.. she was in the hospital and she woke up and said to the nurse.. “mary, what am I supposed to do?”  the nurse said what do you mean.  And she said “Why am I not dead yet?  I am ready to die! Why ‘m I not dead yet!”  “Well ms. Joyce I don’t guess your home in heaven is ready just yet.”  And so when she died it wasn’t sad.  I was like We should all be happy! She lived a full life. 

Me:  yeah… just like that.

Monique haircut…

Getting my haircut this morning: Me, "Yeah...it was great. I went to Paris, Rome, etc." The haircut lady, "Oh Rome! I would love to go to the Sixteen Chapel!" Me, "Yeah, the Sistine Chapel is amazing" Lady, "Oh I bet the Sixteen Chapel just blows you away." I tried. Totally back in the south again.

You walk around like you are this brand new person.  Buying shoes at Loebs like a normal person.. .all these people have just lived a day to day routine.. I just got back from Spain.. you think “Do you not realize who you’re helping check out right now?  Do you not know who I am, where I’ve been and what all I’ve done!”  not in an egotistical way.. but in a way that’s like… how can you not see on my face.. how can you not look at me and tell and automatically have to ask “Ohh.. I see you’ve been living in Spain how was it”