I’m ready for spring. I’m ready for the bitter arctic air to blow its last winds. I’m ready to end the shivering. I’m ready to feel warm again… inside and out. There’s ice on the roads. There’s ice in me.
It’s cold.
It’s cold.
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Pray for Egypt
Before we all became pre-occupied with this weather, the news was covering the protests, demonstrations, and violence in Egypt. Not to say that I'm not into the weather right now like everyone else, heck, I'm enjoying my second consecutive snow day at home (Praise da Lord!), but hopefully no one has forgotten about what happening in the streets of Cairo.
I read a great blog yesterday- (Click here to read it) (thanks, Kim for posting it)- about what's going on and how it started. Funny enough the revolution basically began online via Facebook and Twitter. Facebook has become pretty annoying lately and I've never seen anything worthy or redeemable about Twitter, but in Egypt, the youth have used these social networks to begin a revolution that has about 2/3 of the nation involved. I once stood firmly against getting a Twitter, but this makes me reconsider. In a country were the government controls and restricts just about everything, Facebook and Twitter have prevailed. On CNN and CBS news, they were reporting that the government shut down internet access all across the nation, but protesters still kept in contact, let their voices ring, and shouted via mobile Tweets. Updates were pouring in by the seconds.
It's amazing to see just how much we've changed as a global society. Think back with me, please. The Civil Rights Movement right here in America. It took years of networking and strong leaders to coordinate and organize protests and demonstrations. It took lots of planning in advance and the rise of national organizations with strong leadership to get the movement off the ground. In Egypt, all it took were a few tweets and posts. It's amazing to think how revolutions have revolutionized.
The protesters don't have a strong political leader. They don't have an alternative president waiting to step in. They're not all coming from one united political voice. They are just downright miserable and desperate to get Mubarak O-U-T! The government there, from what I remember for Dr. Ngong's class and doing current events on Egypt, is severely corrupted. They control the nation with a tight grip. If you spoke out against them that morning, chances of you making it home that evening were slim. Citizens that voiced their opinions against the regime would just vanish. I once read about a group of homeless citizens trying to find shelter in Cairo, the capitol- a city that must be kept “clean.” Mysteriously, there was a random rock slide that crushed the destitute homeless folks’ shabby boxes made into shelters, killing most and driving out the rest. "Accidents" happen. Mubarak has been known to shut down power to cities for days at a time as punishment. Force people out their homes and into the streets. Have "unfit" citizens disappear.
Just pray for Egypt. As the violence increases, keep these people in your prayers. Whatever the outcome of all of this, there is bound to be even more suffering. When the government fails, pray the people will remain strong and can get through a transition without a leader. Pray for less violence. Pray for the safety of those Egyptian youths trying to repair and better their nation. Pray that they find a solid, strong, and just leader. Pray that America does what's right to help.
The revolution in Egypt is happening... and the world can see. We are all watching. We are reading your tweets and posts. We are being updated by the minute. Mubarak, you can't keep this quiet.
I read a great blog yesterday- (Click here to read it) (thanks, Kim for posting it)- about what's going on and how it started. Funny enough the revolution basically began online via Facebook and Twitter. Facebook has become pretty annoying lately and I've never seen anything worthy or redeemable about Twitter, but in Egypt, the youth have used these social networks to begin a revolution that has about 2/3 of the nation involved. I once stood firmly against getting a Twitter, but this makes me reconsider. In a country were the government controls and restricts just about everything, Facebook and Twitter have prevailed. On CNN and CBS news, they were reporting that the government shut down internet access all across the nation, but protesters still kept in contact, let their voices ring, and shouted via mobile Tweets. Updates were pouring in by the seconds.
It's amazing to see just how much we've changed as a global society. Think back with me, please. The Civil Rights Movement right here in America. It took years of networking and strong leaders to coordinate and organize protests and demonstrations. It took lots of planning in advance and the rise of national organizations with strong leadership to get the movement off the ground. In Egypt, all it took were a few tweets and posts. It's amazing to think how revolutions have revolutionized.
The protesters don't have a strong political leader. They don't have an alternative president waiting to step in. They're not all coming from one united political voice. They are just downright miserable and desperate to get Mubarak O-U-T! The government there, from what I remember for Dr. Ngong's class and doing current events on Egypt, is severely corrupted. They control the nation with a tight grip. If you spoke out against them that morning, chances of you making it home that evening were slim. Citizens that voiced their opinions against the regime would just vanish. I once read about a group of homeless citizens trying to find shelter in Cairo, the capitol- a city that must be kept “clean.” Mysteriously, there was a random rock slide that crushed the destitute homeless folks’ shabby boxes made into shelters, killing most and driving out the rest. "Accidents" happen. Mubarak has been known to shut down power to cities for days at a time as punishment. Force people out their homes and into the streets. Have "unfit" citizens disappear.
Just pray for Egypt. As the violence increases, keep these people in your prayers. Whatever the outcome of all of this, there is bound to be even more suffering. When the government fails, pray the people will remain strong and can get through a transition without a leader. Pray for less violence. Pray for the safety of those Egyptian youths trying to repair and better their nation. Pray that they find a solid, strong, and just leader. Pray that America does what's right to help.
The revolution in Egypt is happening... and the world can see. We are all watching. We are reading your tweets and posts. We are being updated by the minute. Mubarak, you can't keep this quiet.
Monday, January 10, 2011
New Year's Resolutions...
Firstly, New Year's Eve this year was really fantastic. It was spent with Brian and my Scotland/Baylor friends (including the wonderful Sarah of VA!!) down in Waco. I took Brian to the suspension bridge, followed by a group dinner at Ninfa's, spades, coffee, drinks, fireworks, cigars, toasts, laughs, Denny's, and just overall merriment. I was really excited that I got to wear my short black sequined and dazzling dress once more. It had been years since its first appearance at Welcome Week. I hope to wear it more. I loved being sparkly.
On New Year's Eve we toasted to resolutions that we don't intend to keep. I know these were supposed to be posted earlier, but better late than never. The year is still spankin' new even 10 days into January, so here's my soon-to-be-abandoned list of resolutions.
Resolution #1: Wear the sparkly dress again. I DO want to keep this one. It's just slightly ho-ish, so I have to be cautious about the occasion.
Resolution #2: Tone up. I still jiggle. I DON'T want to jiggle.
Resolution #3: Travel this summer to Australia or France or both... both would be perfect.
Resolution #4: Study for LSAT.
Resolution #5: Take LSAT and not punk out.
Resolution #6: Research and apply to law schools...eek!
Resolution #7: Procrastinate less. I add this to the list every year. I usually break it first. I mean, I am blogging my resolutions on the 10th... oops.
Resolution #8: Have more conversations with friends. I will keep this one.
Resolution #9: Become a more organized teacher.
Resolution #10: Find time for art again.
Resolution #11: Move out.
There's my list; 11 resolutions for 2011. Last year I challenged 2010 to bring it... and it did. 2010 was incredible. I hope 2011 will be... spectacular. Come on, 2011, it is the year of the rabbit. :-)
On New Year's Eve we toasted to resolutions that we don't intend to keep. I know these were supposed to be posted earlier, but better late than never. The year is still spankin' new even 10 days into January, so here's my soon-to-be-abandoned list of resolutions.
Resolution #1: Wear the sparkly dress again. I DO want to keep this one. It's just slightly ho-ish, so I have to be cautious about the occasion.
Resolution #2: Tone up. I still jiggle. I DON'T want to jiggle.
Resolution #3: Travel this summer to Australia or France or both... both would be perfect.
Resolution #4: Study for LSAT.
Resolution #5: Take LSAT and not punk out.
Resolution #6: Research and apply to law schools...eek!
Resolution #7: Procrastinate less. I add this to the list every year. I usually break it first. I mean, I am blogging my resolutions on the 10th... oops.
Resolution #8: Have more conversations with friends. I will keep this one.
Resolution #9: Become a more organized teacher.
Resolution #10: Find time for art again.
Resolution #11: Move out.
There's my list; 11 resolutions for 2011. Last year I challenged 2010 to bring it... and it did. 2010 was incredible. I hope 2011 will be... spectacular. Come on, 2011, it is the year of the rabbit. :-)
Saturday, December 11, 2010
To Get The Gecko
Many months have passed since my last post, and as such, many events have transpired. I knew that teaching 7th grade would come with many stories and, boy, have I got ‘em. I wish I could find the time to write daily about all the ridiculousness of junior high. Unfortunately, I barely have time to do anything other than lesson plan, grade, and work on certification stuff. I have some priceless stories to tell, but sadly, some have already been lost just to a jammed brained that has forgotten many details.
So how am I writing this post? This post is brought to you from above…about 2,500 miles up. I left my kiddos for the afternoon and Friday to catch a 5 PM flight to Wisconsin to be with my sister and celebrate her birthday. It’s funny how it takes an airplane to seat me long enough to write these days…
A fresh 7th grade magic moment that must be shared because of its complete immature absurdity, is a boy’s bathroom story. Of course. 13 year-olds just think differently from adults and children. They’re almost a complete synthesis of both- childlike thoughts with a budding adult sense of logic trying to develop. And then at other times, they just don’t think at all. We had a lovely 7th grade boy decide that while he was relieving himself in the bathroom at lunch, aiming for the urinal just wasn’t inspiring nor fun enough. Instead, he thought it would be better to take aim at something new… like an electrical socket. I don’t know how many other young fellows were in the bathroom with him at the time, but by 5th period, there was a buzz about so-and-so peeing on the outlet. I later heard that the outlet sparked and started a small fire. The walls in that bathroom are black now because some child prodigy decided he was too good for just a urinal. And as expected from most middle-schoolers, a burning wall in a bathroom will go unreported. No one wants to be a snitch. By 6th period, a cash reward was offered to the person that gave the name of the little pisser. One of my students begged to go to the office, bolted, and sprinted down the hallway. Then I saw a number of boys, as if they were being chased by a pee-induced socket fire, sprint towards the office. I guess being a snitch is OK if you get a hundred bucks out of it. Needless to say, the culprit was suspended. No end of the year Christmas party for him. In my opinion, the little guy was lucky. He could have been electrocuted from the nether-region. Who would want to go throughout junior high and high school as the guy that almost died because his junk was shocked from peeing on an outlet? And I don’t know if telling a kid that he’s suspended from school (especially for it being so close to Christmas break, anyway) is a harsh enough punishment for starting a small fire on campus with bodily fluids.
Another story: I just had a moment in class where I came to reality. Even though I teach 7th graders, they’re still just kids. I often get wrapped up with these high expectations about how they should know this and that and act this way and that way. But realistically, they’re so much like my former 3rd graders in behavior and thought than I realized, and some aren’t even much taller than the 3rd graders. I had one of my students come in from lunch, skipping to my desk, clearly clutching something precious in his hands. He said grinning, “Look!! Look what I found! What do I do with it?!” He held in his hand near my face a baby gecko. That was unexpected. That little pink and brown reptile had to go. I couldn’t help but smile to myself. Some days I have to regroup to find reality. These kids are smart and capable and becoming young adults, but at the bottom of everything, still and always just kids. They’re curious little humans, figuring out the world and themselves, wanting to know "why" incessantly, and unafraid to get the gecko. They’re someone’s baby and someone loves them. And for those who don’t have that someone… it has to be me.
There will be more to come for sure. This flight isn’t nearly long enough to cover the happenings of junior high, room 150, 7th grade Math TAKS.
So how am I writing this post? This post is brought to you from above…about 2,500 miles up. I left my kiddos for the afternoon and Friday to catch a 5 PM flight to Wisconsin to be with my sister and celebrate her birthday. It’s funny how it takes an airplane to seat me long enough to write these days…
A fresh 7th grade magic moment that must be shared because of its complete immature absurdity, is a boy’s bathroom story. Of course. 13 year-olds just think differently from adults and children. They’re almost a complete synthesis of both- childlike thoughts with a budding adult sense of logic trying to develop. And then at other times, they just don’t think at all. We had a lovely 7th grade boy decide that while he was relieving himself in the bathroom at lunch, aiming for the urinal just wasn’t inspiring nor fun enough. Instead, he thought it would be better to take aim at something new… like an electrical socket. I don’t know how many other young fellows were in the bathroom with him at the time, but by 5th period, there was a buzz about so-and-so peeing on the outlet. I later heard that the outlet sparked and started a small fire. The walls in that bathroom are black now because some child prodigy decided he was too good for just a urinal. And as expected from most middle-schoolers, a burning wall in a bathroom will go unreported. No one wants to be a snitch. By 6th period, a cash reward was offered to the person that gave the name of the little pisser. One of my students begged to go to the office, bolted, and sprinted down the hallway. Then I saw a number of boys, as if they were being chased by a pee-induced socket fire, sprint towards the office. I guess being a snitch is OK if you get a hundred bucks out of it. Needless to say, the culprit was suspended. No end of the year Christmas party for him. In my opinion, the little guy was lucky. He could have been electrocuted from the nether-region. Who would want to go throughout junior high and high school as the guy that almost died because his junk was shocked from peeing on an outlet? And I don’t know if telling a kid that he’s suspended from school (especially for it being so close to Christmas break, anyway) is a harsh enough punishment for starting a small fire on campus with bodily fluids.
Another story: I just had a moment in class where I came to reality. Even though I teach 7th graders, they’re still just kids. I often get wrapped up with these high expectations about how they should know this and that and act this way and that way. But realistically, they’re so much like my former 3rd graders in behavior and thought than I realized, and some aren’t even much taller than the 3rd graders. I had one of my students come in from lunch, skipping to my desk, clearly clutching something precious in his hands. He said grinning, “Look!! Look what I found! What do I do with it?!” He held in his hand near my face a baby gecko. That was unexpected. That little pink and brown reptile had to go. I couldn’t help but smile to myself. Some days I have to regroup to find reality. These kids are smart and capable and becoming young adults, but at the bottom of everything, still and always just kids. They’re curious little humans, figuring out the world and themselves, wanting to know "why" incessantly, and unafraid to get the gecko. They’re someone’s baby and someone loves them. And for those who don’t have that someone… it has to be me.
There will be more to come for sure. This flight isn’t nearly long enough to cover the happenings of junior high, room 150, 7th grade Math TAKS.
Saturday, October 2, 2010
Finally, an update!
Remember me?
*This may be a little long but we’ve got a lot of catching up to do. I promise it’s worth it, and hopefully it’ll make you laugh.*
So, I’ve been away from the blogging world for awhile!!!! Once upon a time, I only had a part-time job at CVC in the Biology department as a lab instructor. I had free time to blog, sulk and worry about the unknown future, and cook purple chicken. Worry, leisure, and playtime was the month of May. Then June came along…Whoa.
I don’t know if I mentioned in past posts that I had been accepted to Texas Teaching Fellows (which I will refer to as TTF for now on), an alternative certification program to become a teacher. I’m going to be honest here and say that teaching was never my first choice for a career. I always pictured myself as some employee (preferably, the boss) of a company/organization (preferably my own or government-run) that travelled to different countries on business trips to work abroad for months at a time, doing good deeds and spreading good cheer. I basically wanted the job of a well-paid international social worker/team-leader. You could say that I want to be a rich, year-round Santa Claus. As life would have it, I’m convinced that such a position doesn’t exist for me… yet. Then, after years of jet-setting, making a name for myself, acquiring lots of international friends and properties, and changing the world for the better, I would settle down and become a teacher. Tell my students about travelling and the world and people and living…
God thinks differently. Ha-ha-haBefore my six weeks of summer institute, literary the Saturday before my first Monday, I met a boy. After about the third date, I quickly decided that I really liked him. So, during the six weeks of institute, I not only working my butt off student-teaching and submitting work products for TTF, but I kept my job with CVC on the side and spent time with a boy on the weekends. I didn’t sleep much. But it was good. Life was busy but good.
I also forgot to mention that in June, the very first day of TTF institute, I got a text from my mom to call the principal of Kaufman Jr. High. I called, was offered a teaching position (7th grade Math), and accepted the offer. So, I quickly became an employee of the very Jr. High that I attended. My current principal was once my 3rd grade teacher when I first moved Texas. The Math Department Chair - she taught me Algebra in 8th grade, was best friends with my mom, and took me to six flags every year until I was about 16. About 6 of former teachers have become my colleagues. Some of the younger (excuse me, newer) staff members graduated with me or not too much before me. The new tennis coach - we graduated from Kaufman together; in fact, we were friends. She was Kaufman’s 2005 Homecoming Queen… I was Valedictorian. Was it weird at first? YES.
Post-institute/Pre-first-day-of-school was all catch-up on sleep, enjoy that last bit of vacation time, spend time friends, and enjoy time with (can you believe this…) my FIRST-ever boyfriend (turns out, he liked me backJ.) It was a good 3 weeks.
Then school started. If anyone tries to peddle some story about teachers and how lazy they are, please slap them across the face… as hard as possible. Jesus would agree that it would be well-deserved. There is nothing like waking up super early in the morning; standing in front of a classroom full of awkward, smelly, low-retention, hormone-enraged, inattentive pre-teens trying to teach them math; creating engaging math lessons for a generation of calculator-dependent, academically-apathetic, and lazy children; grading failing assignments and not trying to feel like a failure yourself; and sleeping 4.5 hours at night only to wake up and do it all over again.
I’m still debating whether or not I’m completely cut out to be a teacher. I do enjoy it. I love the kids; they are ridiculous (I’ll go into details in a bit). And I’m desperately trying to get them to be better people. This stage of life is hard for them, I know, and Kaufman, as a small rural town, can only provide so much for them. It’s stressful. I refuse to be a bad teacher, so I work myself until I pass out. I like working, but the more I teach, the more I keep thinking of my former goals of jet-setting and travelling. I want to leave. I want to stay. I want to be a student again. I would want to teach again. So I’m trying to decide on going to grad school. Oh, life.
Here are some snipits from my classroom:
First week of school- Got a note from a student that said, “You’re cute.” Next day, the same student gave me another note that said, “You’re very cute. PS. I’m good at rubbing sore feet <3.” …That note went to the principal’s office.
Second week of school- Found a note in the hallway from one jr. high girl to another. Girl 1 was telling Girl 2 about losing one’s virginity, betrayal, sex with someone’s brother… they’re 11,12, and 13 years old!! I cried in the teacher’s lounge bathroom. But just one tear. I was so disgusted!
Third week of school- I’m convinced some of my students have etch-a-sketches for brains. I spend 53 minutes a day trying to artfully craft a math masterpiece into their brains. Then the bell rings, they shake their heads, and it’s lost forever. Everyday's a new day. Is it possible for tweens to have Alzheimer’s?? but really…
Fourth week of school- My students' initial fear of me began to wear off and they've now started to like me. Crap. Every class gets the “I’m NOT your friend; I’m your teacher” talk. Some still aren’t convinced.
Fifth week- called some parents about teasing. Called some parents about inappropriate farting in my classroom. Called some parents about excessive talking. Had a seating arrangement change and a "come-to-Jesus moment" with my 5th period class. (Update: they’re doing better behavior-wise although they may need another moment later.)
Sixth week- Freaked out when I had to write my first two office referrals. Had a student tell another one, “Ain’t no muthaf**ker gonna tell me to shut up.” Uh, really?!?!
It’s a new six weeks. Only 5 more six weeks left. There is never a dull moment in teaching. Never.
Friday, May 28, 2010
Taste trumps color
Today, I felt like being creative in the kitchen. I’ve always admired chefs. I long to be more skillful in the kitchen, invent my own recipes, and wow people with deliciousness. I was just not in the mood for another turkey and cheese sandwich. I searched the fridge and freezer and took inventory of what was inside. There was chicken, broccoli, pre-cut seasoning veggies, left-over white rice, and fresh garlic. Ooooh, and some red wine. Idea! Put all these ingredients in a skillet and let it simmer with the wine. Chefs do that all the time on the Food Network.
I decided to lightly brown the rice with the veggies… that came out well. Then I needed to prepare the chicken. Interestingly enough, this chicken was pre-cooked, and had just been frozen. Holla! I basically just needed to heat it up since it was already cooked through for me. I added the red wine. I guess professional cooks know about adding wine to food. I’m questioning whether they actually add red wine or maybe it’s just red wine-based vinegar. Maybe it’s always white wine…. I watched the chicken cook, and slowly, it become pink… oh, then lavender. The chicken absorbed the flavor, and unexpectedly, the color as well. HA-HA-HA. I really don’t know what I was thinking. Here I was cooking WHITE meat in RED wine. Duh.
Pastel purple chicken doesn’t look very appetizing, but could it really taste bad? It’s not like I added poison to the chicken. As soon as I took that first bite of my mauve-colored breast piece, I knew right away that color didn’t matter. It’s what’s on the inside that matters. Please, don’t judge my purple chicken. It’s delicious.
I decided to lightly brown the rice with the veggies… that came out well. Then I needed to prepare the chicken. Interestingly enough, this chicken was pre-cooked, and had just been frozen. Holla! I basically just needed to heat it up since it was already cooked through for me. I added the red wine. I guess professional cooks know about adding wine to food. I’m questioning whether they actually add red wine or maybe it’s just red wine-based vinegar. Maybe it’s always white wine…. I watched the chicken cook, and slowly, it become pink… oh, then lavender. The chicken absorbed the flavor, and unexpectedly, the color as well. HA-HA-HA. I really don’t know what I was thinking. Here I was cooking WHITE meat in RED wine. Duh.
Ever tried to break into your own house?
I blame this incident on my new garage door opener… and maybe, Beta. I would have written this post on the day it happened (Wednesday), but I've been preoccupied with essay-writing for Texas Teaching Fellows.
Beta is a special dog. He's active like a puppy (despite his non-puppy size), runs at the speed and style of baby gazelle being chased, and only plays with toys that squeak. One of his all-time favorite things to do is watch the cars and trucks pass by our house. From our sloping backyard, he'll stand at the highest point, watching and waiting for the nosiest vehicle, and once he's gets the right one, blindly chases it along the fence. Sometimes he just spins around and around in circles. To each his own, right? Well, lately Beta has decided that he'd rather stay outside in the hot sun and chase cars rather than return to a cool air-condition house with his canine lounge bed and squeak toys. He just stubbornly ignores his name and the command "Come". My dog: the rebel. Well, it's annoying. I can't chase him down to get him in the house, but I feel guilty leaving him outside for such a long time in this increasing Texas heat. Since he disobeyed that morning about coming in before I left for work, he was just going to have to stay outside until I came home for lunch.
While on my way home around noon, I was worried about Beta. I hoped he had enough water and had found shade. I pulled into the garage using my new garage door opener, and immediately headed to the backyard to get Beta inside. I found him wedged between the wall and the air-conditioner unit trying to get into the shade. I attached the leash to his collar, but he came quietly and submissively, as if, he finally regretted his decision about not coming inside when he had the chance. When it was time to go back to work, I merrily headed towards the laundry room to get to the garage. It's important to know that the door leading the garage door has a lock on the door knob. It's one of those doors that can be locked before it is shut. And that's exactly what happened; I turned the lock and shut the door. I open the garage door and hopped into Harriet. Uhh… the key light was blinking. I moved my purse closer the ignition (my car has this keyless feature, meaning the key just needs to be near the car to operate it). Well, moving my purse closer didn't work. Still, no luck. Are my keys even in my purse? I dug around and …(*insert bad word here*)
I knew without a doubt that I had locked the door, but I tried it just in case it would miraculously unlock itself for me. It didn't. (*insert a string of impolite four-letter words here*) Ugh! I could visualize where my car keys lay, and unfortunately, a locked door and some hallway separated us. So now my stubborn dog, Beta, is comfortably locked inside the house while I'm locked outside. I tried going through the backyard, hoping maybe I forgot to lock the backdoor. Turns out, I have an incredible memory for locking things. Before my garage door opener, I had to go through the front door, which has a normal lock. You know the sort - where you open the door, shut the door, insert key, turn, and leave. It would be near impossible to lock myself out of the house in the pre-garage door opener days.
After trying all the doors, I called my parents, hoping they had some spare key hidden somewhere. Nope. Well, then my Dad suggests trying to go through a window. Ummm… I just thought back to that news story with this Black (Harvard, maybe) professor was locked out of his house, and tried to break in. It resulted in his neighbors calling the cops, and the situation getting political. There's really not a good way to break into your own house… especially, when your house in on the corner. If I tried to be sneaky, I'd look suspicious. If I looked obvious, well, I'd still look suspicious. I tried popping off a screen like Dad suggests. Well, I'm happy to know that our screens don't just pop off. Although, I didn't work too hard on prying it off. It was the middle of the day, and I was fighting the rose bushes to get to a window on the front of our house. It was plan I was happy to abandon. Mom just panicked when I told her the news. She promised to leave work and come home to rescue me. Really? She wanted me to wait an hour for her? I'm cleverer than that.
I decided to just call one of my co-workers to pick me up from my house to get back to work. That was an awkward conversation.
"Hey, can you do me a favor?"
"Uh, sure. What?"
"Would you mind coming by my house to get me, so I can return to work? I locked my car keys inside… and myself outside."
"Ba-ha-ha…Sure thing!"
I could only laugh at my situation, too. My solution: un-stack a lawn chair from the garage and wait in the shade.
Beta is a special dog. He's active like a puppy (despite his non-puppy size), runs at the speed and style of baby gazelle being chased, and only plays with toys that squeak. One of his all-time favorite things to do is watch the cars and trucks pass by our house. From our sloping backyard, he'll stand at the highest point, watching and waiting for the nosiest vehicle, and once he's gets the right one, blindly chases it along the fence. Sometimes he just spins around and around in circles. To each his own, right? Well, lately Beta has decided that he'd rather stay outside in the hot sun and chase cars rather than return to a cool air-condition house with his canine lounge bed and squeak toys. He just stubbornly ignores his name and the command "Come". My dog: the rebel. Well, it's annoying. I can't chase him down to get him in the house, but I feel guilty leaving him outside for such a long time in this increasing Texas heat. Since he disobeyed that morning about coming in before I left for work, he was just going to have to stay outside until I came home for lunch.
While on my way home around noon, I was worried about Beta. I hoped he had enough water and had found shade. I pulled into the garage using my new garage door opener, and immediately headed to the backyard to get Beta inside. I found him wedged between the wall and the air-conditioner unit trying to get into the shade. I attached the leash to his collar, but he came quietly and submissively, as if, he finally regretted his decision about not coming inside when he had the chance. When it was time to go back to work, I merrily headed towards the laundry room to get to the garage. It's important to know that the door leading the garage door has a lock on the door knob. It's one of those doors that can be locked before it is shut. And that's exactly what happened; I turned the lock and shut the door. I open the garage door and hopped into Harriet. Uhh… the key light was blinking. I moved my purse closer the ignition (my car has this keyless feature, meaning the key just needs to be near the car to operate it). Well, moving my purse closer didn't work. Still, no luck. Are my keys even in my purse? I dug around and …(*insert bad word here*)
I knew without a doubt that I had locked the door, but I tried it just in case it would miraculously unlock itself for me. It didn't. (*insert a string of impolite four-letter words here*) Ugh! I could visualize where my car keys lay, and unfortunately, a locked door and some hallway separated us. So now my stubborn dog, Beta, is comfortably locked inside the house while I'm locked outside. I tried going through the backyard, hoping maybe I forgot to lock the backdoor. Turns out, I have an incredible memory for locking things. Before my garage door opener, I had to go through the front door, which has a normal lock. You know the sort - where you open the door, shut the door, insert key, turn, and leave. It would be near impossible to lock myself out of the house in the pre-garage door opener days.
After trying all the doors, I called my parents, hoping they had some spare key hidden somewhere. Nope. Well, then my Dad suggests trying to go through a window. Ummm… I just thought back to that news story with this Black (Harvard, maybe) professor was locked out of his house, and tried to break in. It resulted in his neighbors calling the cops, and the situation getting political. There's really not a good way to break into your own house… especially, when your house in on the corner. If I tried to be sneaky, I'd look suspicious. If I looked obvious, well, I'd still look suspicious. I tried popping off a screen like Dad suggests. Well, I'm happy to know that our screens don't just pop off. Although, I didn't work too hard on prying it off. It was the middle of the day, and I was fighting the rose bushes to get to a window on the front of our house. It was plan I was happy to abandon. Mom just panicked when I told her the news. She promised to leave work and come home to rescue me. Really? She wanted me to wait an hour for her? I'm cleverer than that.
I decided to just call one of my co-workers to pick me up from my house to get back to work. That was an awkward conversation.
"Hey, can you do me a favor?"
"Uh, sure. What?"
"Would you mind coming by my house to get me, so I can return to work? I locked my car keys inside… and myself outside."
"Ba-ha-ha…Sure thing!"
I could only laugh at my situation, too. My solution: un-stack a lawn chair from the garage and wait in the shade.
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