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....