Voleda

If there's one thing that I hate, it's being deceived. Today I experienced the ultimate deception at Robert Crown Center for Health Education. After driving in a bus filled with children for an hour I was crammed into a dusty old auditorium where I was lectured on different germs, which turned out to be adorable hand puppets. Deception number 1. Then, I was shown a video about the five senses hosted by ancient cartoon celebrity.... drum roll please... JIMINY CRICKET! Apparently the Robert Crown Center is confident that very little has changed since 1940 and kids born in 2001 still know who the hell Jiminy Cricket is. Crick went on an on about how crickets hear out of their shins... actually wording... only to cup his hand around the side of his head where an ear would be in order to hear his friend several times during the movie. Deception number 2.

Finally, I was told that I was going to meet a very special woman that was waiting for me behind a thick blue curtain. I was also told not to laugh when she talks about her anus and vagina (no joke). I thought for sure a prostitute was going to be revealed in mere moments. Up went the curtain, leaving my eyes to feast on 6 feet of pure transparent glass/aluminum/plastic woman. Deception number 3. She introduced herself as Voleda and told me that she was just like my mommy. Well Voleda, last time I checked I couldn't see MY mommy's boobie tissue and uterus through her glass skin. Deception number 4. She then proceded to bore us all with 30 minutes of talking about all of her organs and where her poop goes. Turns out Voleda came from Germany in 1959 and has been entertaining youngsters ever since. Sounds like a prostitute to me.... I love field trips!

A Girl Without a Plan

It was really nice of JET to send me a letter while I was relaxing on a Tuesday night.  I had only one fear.  I didn't fear not getting into the program and I certainly didn't fear GETTING in.  What I feared was being stuck in limbo.  I was placed on he alternate list.  The alternate list basically means that I am somewhere on a list of people who may or may not be asked to come to Japan if one of the truly desired people quits or dies.  If I keep myself on the alternate list they can call me any time between now and December and tell me that I'm leaving for Japan.  They can give me from a day to a months time to sort my life out before I leave.  I would have the pleasure of not being able to move or get a steady job in hopes that I will be in Japan some time in the next 6 months (since the starting date of the program... for the winners... is July 25th.)  As appealing as that sounds, I will have to pass. 

What now?  Who knows. 

DUD

I dodge being productive in many different ways. This morning I did some math on Japan. I uploaded the interview sheet from February online. Each person is given a number and the seven different sheets held a total of 44 groups of 8 people... or 352 people per sheet, 2,464 people total minus the 42 missing from the last page... a grand total of 2,422 people.

A chart on JET's website tells me that last year JET took 2,681 people from the United States. With that said, I would like to bet that unless I am a total dud, I will be accepted.

Back to work.

Good day.

McMahon-San

It occurred to me the other day that I have been too busy going on about my obsessions with food and randomness to even post about the interview that I landed with the JET program. It was about a month and a half ago, but I can still remember that it went well. Aside from the question regarding my savage country and its bombing shenanigans back in Hiroshima, it was really light hearted and positive! I think I wowed them with my sharp wit and my honesty regarding the fact that I don't even quite know how to say "hello" in Japanese. Whatever... it's not like I'll be too busy learning my way around, adapting to a new culture, learning how to pee while standing up, without too much splash back I might add, in public bathrooms, making friends as to avoid an entire year of isolation, and brushing up on my Katana skills to learn the language, ya know? Long story short, the interview went well and I even met some people that didn't look like they had wet dreams about Monga every night! CHECK PLUS!



I am supposed to find out... well... NOW whether or not I am Japan bound. Each day I run to my mailbox in search of a rice paper letter or a small folded up Japanese man that will inevitably inform me of my fate. Stay tuned. I have a feeling that the Ed McMahon of Japan is on his way to my house... MAYBE TODAY!?

McMahon-San

Hope I don't run out of toiletries any time soon!

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Everyone's always braggin' bout bein' vegan...

I won't lie. I spend an embarrassingly large amount of time purusing foodie blogs. I have found a line up that I enjoy. Some of the women are very witty, and all of them eat oatmeal. Due to the fiber content and it's ability to not only "clean me out" AND keep me full, I am thankful for the peer pressure to start eating more oats.

Anyway. In route to my favorite blogs I often stumble upon blogs that piss me off. These blogs are always have vegan authors who act like their little vegan poops don't stink. They probably stink more if you really think about it! These authors make everyone feel fat and barbaric. The pictures they post are typically meticulously arranged piles of spinach and carrots... something pretty for the camera. Then, in the text, they'll go on and on about how they wish there were more vegan restaurants in their town or how if they ate a bowl of ice cream they would just EXPLODE! Today I got to thinking. I'm a vegan most of the time. That's right. Full blown began 95% of the time. From Sunday until today I have not ingested a single non-vegan item. No dairy. No meat. No eggs. I haven't had so much as one spoonful of ice cream, one cookie, or one sprinkle of cheese. It is important to include that this was all completely by mistake. I in no way attempted to eat vegan and I will in no way brag about my "accomplishments". It's not that hard and you don't have to devote your life to the act of being vegan. I'm just sayin'.

You're welcome little animals of the world. You're welcome.

MY EYES ARE MELTING!!!

Kids will go to great lengths to avoid completing an arduous task such as reading a 50 word book. They will come into your classroom screaming at the top of their lungs. They will claim that their eyes are, in fact, MELTING. Now, "my eyes are melting" is just a fancy shmancy way of saying "I'm crying uncontrollably because my teacher ACTUALLY expects me to READ!" READ!? IN SCHOOL?! WITH MY EYES!? That's the worst part!!!

Perhaps this all goes back to my previous blog where I mentioned being known as "Helga the Strong German" for the majority of my life, but I have a difficult time giving pity to most children. I don't think I'm doing anyone any favors by letting my "eyes melt" right next to the kid. Three teachers will inevitably come running after the child prepared with different speeches to console him and offers to use as slick bribery. "Can I get you a tissue for your melting eyes my dear?" "If you read for me I'll give you a big ol' sticker wicker!" "Please, please, please, read to me, PLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEASE!!!" The last statement is said with intense melting eyes from a grown woman. At this point, the little 5 year old has it made. He's livin' on easy street. Everyone is mere putty in his unnecessarily sweaty/sticky jam hands. Bravo folks... see ya all back here tomorrow?

So bring it on kids. Bring the whole laundry list. Your stomach hurts? Your throat? Oh your elbow too!? Too bad! Suck it up! YOU'RE READIN'!

Rolled ma'self right into the chiropractor's office...

Throughout elementary, middle, and high school I secretly tormented any and all people who dragged a rolling backpack behind their seemingly sad and pathetic selves. I have held onto my opinions since then, snickering every time I heard one of my professors in college rollin' on down the hall. Well, much to my surprise, rolling backpacks are apparently "cool" now.

That's right. They all have them. All in different colors, with cool handles that shoot up at the touch of a button. Rolling backpacks for elementary students today are what wearing my backpack on one shoulder was back in the day. Totally COOL!

I got to thinking, and these kids have the right idea. For years I trudged down my schools' halls carrying backpacks filled to the brim with back breaking amounts of books, Lisa Frank folders with kitties on them, and notebooks I occasionally wrote "Mrs. fill in the blank" in. Today, I see a chiropractor roughly twice a week due to urgent and excruciating chronic back pain. Sure I flew over my bike's handle bars one too many times, but I'm sure the 17 years of brick bag torture devices didn't help either.

So, keep it up kiddos! You keep on rockin' and rollin'! Someday you can start a money jar entitled "money I saved by not having a jacked-up back from my backpack". Maybe you can donate to the "repair the *buzzard hump" fund.

* The area in my neck where two of my vertebra clanked together during a wreck, leaving me with one fused beauty of a mass.



CAW CAW!!!

Kombuchaholic

I won't lie to you. I am not very good at doing anything in moderation. When I decide that I want to do some yoga, I do yoga for seven days straight and then the lust fizzles out. For the Valentine holiday I purchased a bag of red and pink M&Ms for my students. The bag somehow opened on it's own and I was left to stuff myself silly with holiday goodness until there was nothing left for the kiddos. One second I hate the idea of oatmeal and the next I'm eating it for breakfast and lunch and contemplating eating it for dinner for five days straight. You get the picture.

Well recently I reunited with a beverage that I first tried in college on a particularly hippie feeling day complete with a stop at the local organic coop. G.T. Dave's Synergy Kombucha my friends. Sixteen ounces of whackadoo, over priced, ribbon like floaters of mushroom-like materials throughout the bottle, vinegar smellin', effervescent, fermented greatness. I purchased two bottles... $4.00 a pop! This is the price I am willing to pay to be allowed to drink 1% alcohol during the work day. Upon the first few sips my body begins to tingle and I convince myself that because of the probiotics and enzymes in the drink, I am safe from the thousands of illnesses that my petri dish children bring into my classroom.

Quite kids.... teachers drunk off of fermented mushrooms...

To keep from falling in my typical lack of moderation pit fall, I've decided that I am only allowed Kombucha on Friday... at the point where it has become completely necessary to get me through the last few hours of the hell that I would equate to Dante's Inferno... though I only read a few parts of that book... it would have been a more tolerable read with the help of some shroomy kombucha....

Peace, love, and kombucha.

God's Been Listening After All...

It seems to me that all of my dessert conundrums can finally be put to rest. The question between chocolate, cake, ice cream, and frosting no longer needs to be answered. I give you the Coldstone ice cream cupcake. The cup is chocolate, the center is cake, the top is ice cream, and it's all covered in icing. If I died tomorrow without ever tasting this concoction, I would die an unfulfilled person.

Good news: Japan has 6 Coldstone locations. Reason enough to still pursue my dreams.

Mesmerizing Menu

Thank you, Fried Rice Asian Cuisine, for sending me a menu in the mail. My mom did not feel the need to present me with it, but I found it upon rummaging through last week's mail. An entire pamphlet front to back covered with delicious Asian options. From Chinese cuisine, to Thai, Japanese, even Indian, and everything in between! I am amazed.

I found the menu last night while I was making dinner. While waiting for my water to boil, I looked at the menu. While my pasta cooked, I looked at the menu. While my spinach withered, I looked at the menu. Between each bite of food I scoured the menu, front to back. This morning while eating my cereal, I looked at the menu. And while eating lunch, you guessed it, I shamefully read through the menu. Each time I looked at it something new popped up. I scanned my eyes across all of the low budget photographs of the dishes and judged them with a fine toothed comb. The Mo Po Tofu looked like a brown pile of jello, but I was still intrigued.

I left a note for my mom to see while I am at the gym tonight. It reads : We must order delivery from this place tonight! It was followed by my choices and their corresponding numbers as I am certain that my mom will stumbled on some of the Japanese words. I also made a point to remind her to mention the free egg rolls that come with a purchase of $15 or more.

I. Am. Pathetic.

I think I need to make a career out of my passion for eating. I don't really like cooking, but I enjoy eating. Competitive eating is out of the question, for I have what some may call... an easily irritated bowel.... and mad stints of heart burn. Is there a future in taking pictures for menus? I have also toyed with the idea of being the next Samantha Brown. She is probably going to kick the bucket some time soon... not die, but grow too old for the bright lights of the camera. I can do that! I can be the new, slightly more cynical, Samantha Brown! I could travel the world and eat. Forget the sight seeing portion of the show or the "activities"... just the eating.

Until then, I will cross my fingers that Fried Rice Asian Cuisine turns out to be half as impressive as its menu.

Douzo TABETE kudasai
(enjoy YOUR meal)

Valentines day is for one thing and one thing only.

EATING.

Cupcakes.
Mint Melt Aways.
Lofthouse Cookie.

Sweets 3.

Me 0.

Holly Hobby

Fact:

Cool and interesting people have cool and interesting hobbies.

Uncool and uninteresting people have uncool and uninteresting hobbies.

I live life much like that of Phil Connors from "Groundhog Day". School, gym, TV, sleep, repeat. I suppose you can call the classes I take at the gym a hobby, but if that's all I've got I would have to say that I'm still uncool and uninteresting. I would love to say that I devour classic literature volumes like cupcakes but that would be a lie. I would like to say that I am in the process of teaching myself how to play an antique cello or something equally as inspiring, but I'm not. I could go to Hobby Lobby and pick myself up some amateur knitting needles and go to work on the most hideous and ill-proportioned scarves you'll ever see, but I would rather save myself the time and effort and go buy one that doesn't make me look clinically insane. And, in an effort to keep myself from gaining a solid hundo or two I have decided to put off all plans of making baking my hobby.

So what's left? Children's books, that's what! I am going to write children's books. This is something that I have always talked about wanting to do. I fancy myself a fairly good writer and a fairly good teacher with creative ideas. I think I will start writing stories for the students in my class and see where that takes me. I already have to write stories pretty often, social stories that help kids deal with any problems they are currently having in school. Tonight, after watching two hours of "The Bachelor", I will move forward with my new hobby! I WILL be cool and interesting. At parties people will ask me "what do you do besides teach? " and I will say "Why, I write children's literature! Hm hm hm hm hm." That last bit was of course my hoity toity laugh. Wish me luck! HOBBY HERE I COME!

Helga the Strong German

A few weeks ago I went to a large in service that brought together all of the elementary school teachers in my hometown. Upon walking into the teacher stuffed cafeteria I couldn't help but have one of those "this is your life" moments. My kindergarten, first grade, third grade, fourth grade, fifth grade, AND gym teacher were all there. Of course, I avoided eye contact completely and made my way to a seat in the back happy that I had dyed my hair and was somewhat incognito... and aged 11 years or so. I was determined not to be remembered. I didn't want anyone to remember my dirty scraggly hair that hung down to my ass for years and years. I didn't want them to remember my jacked up teeth complete with giant gap and black front tooth. I certainly didn't want my fifth grade teacher to see me and remark on the fact that I was NOT a giant as all of the fifth grade teachers had most likely bet on me becoming. I was only an inch shorter than I am today, 5'7", when I was in fifth grade... my family called me "Helga the strong German". Thanks guys.

Shortly after sitting down I realized that nobody knew who I was and if they did they most likely did not care and only remembered me for being a huge bitch-child throughout elementary school so I relaxed. I was trying my hardest to focus on the lecture about differentiated instruction (HELLO! Four entire years of college were dedicated to DIFFERENTIATED INSTRUCTION! WOULD I BE A SPECIAL EDUCATOR IF I DIDN'T KNOW WHAT DIFFERENTIATED INSTRUCTION WAS!?) when a disturbing thought came to mind. I have been out of elementary school for 11 years. Since then I have ventured to the adolescent prison they call middle school, entered high school, became class president (sorry dude who THOUGHT that he was president and I was VP... it was the other way around and I was just too nice to tell you), went to three billion school dances where I found it necessary to put banana curls in my hair and body glitter on every inch of my exposed skin, got accepted to college, went to college, met a guy who had really huge hands that appeared to dwarf beer cans, became a sorority girl, took thousands of hours of classes, road my bike for the other thousands of hours, ate, drank, was merry, participated in four Little 500's, raised millions of dollars for Riley Children's' Hospital, ventured to the coast of Oregon, ventured to Seattle, dragged a teammate around Disney World without allowing food or beverage, graduated from college, and lived 11 intense years! All. While. Those. Teachers. Worked. At. That. School!

While I was moving from school to school and living adventure after adventure, those people were sitting behind the same desk, in the same room, staring out at the same desks, looking at students that were only slightly different from last year's crop, taking their lunch at the same time, coming and leaving work at the same time, and watching student after student move on to the next grade and the next milestone in life. Now, I understand that these people have lives outside of teaching. I understand that they most likely go on vacations, have families, and these things bring the occasional change, but is that enough? I cannot imagine being content for 11 years in one place, and some of these teachers have been teaching for 30+ years!

What is a life without moving all of your stuff from one room to another and into a car and then out of a car and then into a new room and so on and so forth? I have been living that life for four years and like the never ending change that it has brought. I enjoy that I don't know exactly where I'll be in a few months. Will I be in Japan? Will I be in graduate school? What state will I be in? I like that I have the option to go anywhere and do anything. But, there comes a time where that kind of life will inevitably become impractical. The practical thing will be to slow down, pick a spot, pick a job, and sit. Stay. Who knows, maybe one day you will see me in a cafeteria, staring off into space while listening to the same lecture on differentiated instruction for the 30th year in a row thinking to myself, this isn't so bad.

Are there Bike Paths in Japan?

Important disclaimer: Before I go on an on again about Japan, I would just like to say that if I do not get into the JET program I will immediately log onto my blog and delete it in its entirety to save myself from feeling like a total loser.

Just this past weekend I was walking down a beautiful bike path on what seemed like an unseasonably warm day. While I was staring up at the bare trees and admiring the sound of labored breathing from the dozens of runners that passed in my peripheral I thought to myself, are there bike paths in Japan? You see, it's not that I actually CARE if there are bike paths in Japan, this question adds up to so much more. Since I heard about my interview I have been having several similar crazed thoughts.

Do they have cereal in Japan? I buy cereal in bulk and spring up each morning looking forward to one thing and one thing only, the first spoonful of my delicious and reliable bowl of cereal. Can I get my hair cut and colored? The first vision that crossed my mind was one of me with ratty hair down to my ankles held together by roughly eighteen scrunchies. The first two feet of my hair is blond and the last three is a disgusting shade of baby poop brown. I would walk down the city streets of Tokyo and beautiful Japanese women would hide behind their hands chuckling with glee. What about the dentist? I have at least three cavities every six months! I will surely return to the states with a set of self-made makeshift dentures! I read that an apple can cost up to $6! ARE YOU SERIOUS!? The pace at which I consume apples is comparable to Kris Kattan's character Mr. Peepers from Saturday Night Live! If I wanted to make an apple pie, which I have never done but might get the urge to do while in Japan, it would cost like.... like... like $72! So much for bringing my cooperating teacher a home baked American apple pie!

I tell myself that this sort of questioning is normal. I will most likely find out when I get there, IF I get there, that bike paths, cereal, hair care, teeth, and apples won't matter. What will matter is that I'm in Japan and I'm going to get lost roughly 365+ (once for each day that I am there) times.

Japan fact: Some farmers grow square watermelons in Japan.

Now, I don't believe everything that I read on the Internet, but if this is true, which I hope that it is, it would take care of all of my watermelon cutting conundrums! But, when I think about it further, if a plain ol' apple is $6 a specialized square watermelon might be about.... $1,000,000?

Choose Your Attitude!

Everyday when you wake up you get to choose your attitude. Most weekdays within the past few months I have woken up with an attitude that say, "is it the end of the day yet?" Yesterday, I slept in a bit thinking, "do those kids give two shits if my hair is on the greasy side?" When I awoke one of my first thoughts while eating my cereal and reading People Magazine was, "Wow, Jessica Simpson turned into a REAL cow... is she dating Tony Roma or did she eat him?" Then I thought, "stop Kate! What did Jessica Simpson ever do to you? If you ate seven more bowls of cereal followed by a rack of lamb, three dozen donuts, and a small African child you might look like her too! We're all human!" I thank Jessica for giving me a kick in the ass that morning. I marched upstairs, put on some professional looking clothes, did something with my greasy hair, got in my car, walked into my classroom, cleaned a month's worth of paperwork off of my desk and organized it into piles where it would be addressed later in the day, I cleaned the booger swipes off of the desks with some Clorox surface cleaner, MADE A LESSON PLAN, and put a damn smile on my face!

At lunch I decided that instead of sitting in my room in the dark with the door closed in my corner desk where nobody can see me from the door's window, I would go to the dreaded teachers' lounge and make nice. As soon as I walked in one of the kindergarten teachers was calling some kid a bastard and I turned right back around. Perhaps I wasn't ready for that just yet. The moral of the story is that each day you get a chance to make the most of your day and I won't lie to you, most days I choose to be a bitter bitch, but that's not workin' out for me so well anymore (as if it ever did). No matter where you are and no matter what you're doing you can convince yourself to be miserable, this I now. BUT, and this is the crazy part, no matter where you are and no matter what you are doing you can convince yourself to be HAPPY! Ya I only really teach kids for three hours a day followed by endless hours of paperwork in front of a nonresponsive computer screen. Sure I have to drive two and a half hours almost every weekend in order to see my boyfriend of four years. Ya the principal wouldn't know if I had died in my desk chair. But, it's all good. Lot's of people my age are still "soul searching", aka have no idea what they want to do and would like to think about their options while slipping farther into debt. I'm 23, I have a job that pays well, I'm taking pilates and gettin' tight, and I'm going to Japan.... I think. Today I will choose to be happy once more!

Japan Fact: Japanese teachers are expected to incorporate a lot of excitement and even music into their lessons. A smile goes a long way in the Japanese culture.

I better keep this up then....

I think I'm turning Japanese

I started this blog about a month ago and did not write a single thing for it. I decided that I merely enjoyed the title that came to mind and left it at that. But now, things are actually happening and there is potential that this thing could really take off! In November I applied to the JET program, a program that sends hopefuls to Japan for a year to teach English in public schools. Just yesterday I found out that my application had be reviewed and I have an interview on February 26th! I will find out in April if I have been accepted and will leave in July for my year abroad.

Until then, I am biding my time in a temporary teaching position at an elementary school in my home town. I would be lying if I said I wasn't slightly half-assing this job. I do not work well when I am stuck in limbo and will therefore suck at my job until April. Don't worry, the kids aren't suffering... just the mounds of paperwork that I was left to sift through! Yesterday one of my students farted while I was teaching him, ONE ON ONE I MIGHT ADD, how to add nines (pretend the nine is a ten and then subtract one from the final sum). I have decided that he is my favorite student because he let one rip and didn't apologize for it. That basically sums up the excitement at my job.

Stay tuned for updates on Japan!

Japan fact: The Japanese enjoy tricked out toilets and it is not uncommon for there to be a heated toilet seat in a household. My ass thanks you, Japan.