secret weed

8th graders are rather hilarious, I am finding out. In my student teaching assignment classroom for next semester, my 8th graders decided to play a game. Guess the teacher's name game. I could have easily just told them, but that wouldn't have been as much fun. Some of them guess it (or already knew) and they kept yelling it out, but I played the game. We had fun with it.

Now, I got married in April, so I'm not completely accustomed to my new last name. Weed. So I really haven't had any grief with it, but this was one of my first accounts. One student commented, "why can't you tell us" and I said, "because it's secret." So, he got this super smirky look on his face and asked, "so can we call you secret weed?" HA! That was great! Then it started a big class discussion on what words can we pair with Mrs. Weed's last name that would make it funny. So there was secret weed, silent weed, hidden weed, legal weed, etc. etc. I guess this is what I get for picking on my husband when we were dating.

Newly Weds

I'm starting to see what people were talking about a couple of months ago when I was only married for 4 months, we definitely were in the newly wed stage. It has now been almost 7 months and for some reason I've become ridiculously crabby and annoyed whenever my wonderful husband says things that he finds funny. I don't find them funny anymore. I don't mean to say that I don't love him anymore because I do, it's just something else is sitting on me.

It might be the holidays. It is thanksgiving break, both of us are coming out of a rather stressful week of school and we kind of just want to be left alone. I just want to watch my Millionaire Matchmaker, Project Runway, and What Not to Wear in peace, but he's insistent on watching every stinkin' ESPN channel there is on t.v. Obviously we're not used to veging out with each other, but still... GIVE ME MY T.V. TIME! Ha.

It might also be a paradigm shift. I think about a month ago I was just so glad to be around him and sit by him and I couldn't believe that I was married to him. And not that I still don't think those things, but I had this brain blast of, wait, he's already the 2nd longest roommate that I've ever had...(Natalie, you still win). I'm not going to lose him anytime soon, or ever, so what is the big problem? I dunno...it's just a thought.

Today I woke up early, because I'm not used to sleeping in anymore and I read for an hour then made breakfast. Erick was still asleep. I made sausage, eggs, and chocolate chip pancakes and couldn't wait until he woke up. He woke up and we had breakfast together, cute huh? I think this little scene got me thinking about all of this...I spent some Sam time first and then realized, "Hey, why not share my happy mood with Erick?" (which is when I made breakfast) Then, after about an hour of ESPN, that happy "newly wed" mood went away. So, I'm starting to realize that separate Sam and Erick time is vital to keep that "newly wed" mood. As of right now, Erick is gone doing Erick things, I'm making a jello salad for Thanksgiving tomorrow, and doing my homework on my own time: DEFINITE Sam time.

There's a cat in the WHERE?!

Middle school is really funny. Middle schoolers are even funnier! Since I've been doing my practicum at Elkridge Middle School, I have discovered this. I have also gained a heck of a lot of respect for these crazy teachers and administrators that do it everyday. I am sure once I student teach it will be more of an eye opening experience.

Well, today after I finished teaching a good 3 class periods, it was time for me to leave and go back to P-Town. I had fun with my last class, so it ended on a good note. We joked and I taught them how to sound smart by saying "what is that distant tintinnabulation I hear?" whenever they heard a bell ringing.

I went to the office to sign out and I sat down to wait for the wonderful Courtney so that we could ride back together and I heard a commotion going on with the administrators. So, because I am polite, yet curious, I looked down at my phone and caught up on all of my e-mails while I listened to the women chatting. They were talking about a cat being stuffed in a locker. I was surprised, so I stopped to make sure I didn't hear wrong, but sure enough, there was most definitely a live cat that they found in someone's locker! I stared straight ahead and a lady came out and told me what they found. I acted surprised, naturally, and asked to see the cat. There it was, a fully grown cat that had been stuffed in some 7th grade girl's backpack and stuffed in her locker.

I mean, seriously, I wanted to bring my cat to school when I was little, but I was never gutsy enough to bring one. I don't know if I admire the girl or think she's crazy! That poor cat...ha!

Teenage Dream

When I was in high school I thought that I was the coolest person around. I thought I knew everything and anyone who told me otherwise was OBVIOUSLY wrong. I am now coaching high schoolers in swimming and I have realized how hilarious I must have been as a teenager. I have classed teenagers into 3 different categories.

1. Drama Queens/Divas/Divos/etc.

One swimmer on this high school team is the definition of a divo. He has to have all the attention and everyone has to know how tired, sore, in pain he is because he is working the absolute hardest out of anyone. If something hurts he takes it to the extreme. Once he came up to the other coach and me and told us his scapula was ripping apart from his spine. Another time he told us his esophagus was severed or that he was coughing up blood. It was great really, but he was quite serious about it. When he works hard he gets this look on his face where his eyebrows furrow together, his lips pucker out and his cheeks puff out with every breath sounding quite strained. So hilarious.

2. I'm too tough for you

I have had many a swimmer that claims they don't need help and they can do it on their own. False. They are apparently too cool for school, I guess. These swimmers have presented a problem because they don't really try to learn, they think they can do it all on their own. These teenagers can be quite funny as well because they basically show us who is right in the long run...aka the instructor/teacher/swim coach/etc. Teenagers like this are actually my favorite because I have become really good at breaking them down, humbling them, and seeing their true personality.

3. I need my mommy

These swimmers are generally the same as the too tough for you swimmers in that they have the same attitude toward instruction, but they break down easier because really they just want attention and their mommy. I spent a whole practice yesterday being a mommy to a sick boy, 3 girls who didn't want to do their work, and a boy who severely injured his "jewels" with a pull buoy. I was going back and forth between all of these teenagers giving them the attention they desperately called for. Teenagers are very attention desperate. As my mom would say, up until I left the house, when I was upset: "What? Is your attention meter low again? Let's fill it up." This obviously didn't make my pride feel better, but it made me feel better in the long run.

Cookie Monsters

Chocolate, flour, sugar, eggs, salt, baking powder, brown sugar, vanilla, baking soda, soft butter. Mix together. Bake.

It has always been fascinating how such simple ingredients can make something so delicious.

Noon: 24 hot chocolate chip cookies. 12:15 : 1 dozen warm chocolate chip cookies. 12:20: 10 room temperature chocolate chip cookies. 12:25: 5 chocolate chip cookies. 12:30 : 0 chocolate chip cookies.

It is amazing how 24 cookies can disappear in 30 minutes with 6 people in your family and you can't get even one!

Mary Poppins

When I was little my mother would watch generally only 2 things on t.v. : home maker shows or old movies (generally musicals), so I grew up watching both of those things (don't worry I watched cartoons too). When I grew up I wanted to be a famous singer and be in movies with Grace Kelly and Judy Garland, or at least sing like them. I got into singing and loved every minute of it. I got into the various genres and wanted to do more with them, but somewhere along the lines of life I got lost into reality.

On Friday Erick and I went to see Mary Poppins at the Capitol Theater in SLC. I felt like a kid again! I left the theater feeling elated that people still exist that do my version of "real entertainment" (not this Lady Gaga or Brittany Spears kinda crap), the I-can-sing-dance-run-in-place-and-not-be-out-of-breath kind of entertainment, the stuff that the media industry was built off of. It really makes me think, though, where did I realize this so-called "reality" and why did I stop going for my childhood dreams? I know I could have been just as good as those people on the stage, but what caused my life to end up the way it did? I'm not complaining that I have a bad life, because I love it, but still it is very very intriguing.

Slice of Life

One of my dreams was to become a painter or some sort of artist when I was little (that, and becoming a rocket scientist, a chef, a teacher, a singer, a dancer, etc.). I loved looking at different sunsets and objects in my minds eye and trying to figure out how to paint it. I have taken one oil painting class in my whole life and I loved that picture. It was one of my most proudest moments when I completed it. I've tried to paint, sketch, draw, and I can copy certain items pretty well, but they just aren't the same as I picture in my mind. I'm now at the point that I just don't even try to draw or paint them anymore.

This last weekend I had an experience like this. My husband, Erick, and I were hiking the Y on a beautiful evening right at sun set. We stopped to take a break and looked out over Utah Lake and saw one of the many sunsets I have seen in my life, except a little bit more interesting. The sky was lit up bright orange and fading into a deep blue above the misty purple mountains. When looking across the silky smooth lake it reflected a bright pink instead of the orange of the sky. I loved it! I tried to take a picture of it, but it just wasn't the same as I saw it.

I guess that's the beauty of art, it is entirely in the view of the creator. Hopefully some day I will find the time to be all of the things that I wanted to be when I grew up as a child, but for now I will work on my writing. That's the only way I can give my perspective of the world right now.

New Blog

Hello Friends! I have a new blog about Erick and me. You should read it. And follow it.

www.thegrowingweeds.blogspot.com

Thanks!

The Stand

...Here's my most recent story from my grammar class...yes...grammar...

The Stand

I came up with this great idea today and I am pretty sure no one has thought of it before. I will probably start a revolution with it and become ridiculously wealthy. I don’t know if I can do it on my own, I might need some friends. But, if I ask them, I’ll have to share my wealth.

Nope, on second thought, this is my genius idea and I’m going to do it all on my own. I’ll just borrow my mom’s pitcher, table, ice, and cups. She won’t mind. I’ll pay her back much more when I become the world’s first trillionare. Maybe I’ll snag some computer paper and make a sign. I am going to be the richest and most genius fourth grader ever because of my completely intelligent idea of a lemonade stand.

It’s a really good thing my mom is taking a nap. I can use all this stuff without her knowing. Perfect. The alarm system is super sensitive so I have to be careful. There’s 3 items I have to grab without being caught on the cameras or making noise. I have to steal these to get the people off my back. It’ll give me a couple grand. Item one: the mysterious magical diamond incrusted pitcher. Ancient Armanians said that who ever puts water in it and drinks from it will live forever. Nobody believes that stuff anymore, so it’s the easiest to nab so far. No cameras, but surrounded by the cups. Gotta be quiet. Might as well grab the cups, I’ll make more dough that way. Stealthily and easily I made it to the cupboard. So easy. No alarm system. Ok, where’s my list, first item, check!

Second item. Table. Where can I find a table that I can take outside? Suddenly bullets start flying every which way. I’ve blown my cover. The gang found out my identity and I gotta make it out of here. Dodge left, dodge right. Oh good, some covering. A coffee table! Perfect. I’ll use this as my shield against baby face Johnson, slickest sharp shooter gang banger of the 20s.

Next. Paper. She’s not even paying attention. Not even looking. I can just snag the money right from her purse. Simple. Been livin’ on these here streets since I was 4. Mom and pop left me with nufin’. I can keep it up. But, it seems too easy. Way too easy. I’ll do a grab and run. This dame won’t even know what hit her. Grab and run, that’s what I’ll do. Won’ even look back. Got it.

Perfect, I have everything out. I’m ready to make my millions. The sun radiating heavily on my shoulders allow my head to be kissed gently by the heat. It feels good. The blue sky is almost to the point of it looking boiled, but not quite. I can handle it. I’ve been in the sun. We’re friends. It’s been 5 minutes. Nothing yet, but it’s still early. Not even noon yet. People don’t get thirsty until 1 or 2 anyway. I still can do it. These dumb cars driving by don’t even know what they’re missing anyway. I have the best dang lemonade in the city right here. Maybe I should have invited friends to help me. I’m a loner. Total loner. I’ve been alone since the beginning. Them other people can’t handle me because I work better this way. Last person who tried to deal with me I had to dispose of her. You know what I mean by dispose, right? Ha! Didn’t even know what was comin’ to her. That dumpster was sitting there in that back alley, just asking for her. The scream of the gun was so distant. Almost too distant. I gotta make my mils by myself. Only person I can trust. Nobody can handle this.

Cars keep passing by me and the people in them look at me funny, so I just look right back at them. They won’t know what’s coming to them. When I become rich, they’ll feel bad. I won’t give them anything. Glaring back at them, I hold my cardboard sign high. “Need food, God bless.” I may not look like what I used to be, but I have dreams too. The cars fly by my corner while I sit there, the mangy mutt that has been following me for awhile is lurking in my peripheral. Pregnant flies buzz around his matted fur and I constantly shew him away. This is my corner and I have made sure of that. I need this for my survival. It has been almost 3 months that I’ve been here. Rich folks in their Cadillacs and Cameros pass this intersection and throw their bills and quarters at me. I ran into Julia Roberts once two. Nice lady, handed me $20. An old lady who reminded me of a bull dog, she shook her jowls at me and told me to quit doing drugs and get a life. She doesn’t know me. I used to be someone.

It’s been 30 minutes in the summer sun now and my body is starting to drip sweat. I’m getting thirsty. Just one glass, I have to make sure it’s still cold anyway. With a giant gulp the cold fresh liquid fills my every pore from the inside out. The man who offered it was kind, but there was something mysterious about him. It feels good with each sip like my entire body is being rejuvenated with hydration and something else. I can’t quite name it. My body seems like it is floating and I will never be thirsty again. Wouldn’t that be nice, to never be thirsty again. I could get used to it. He was a very nice man, still there was something to that drink. The world is getting black and I lost feeling to everything in my body. Except for my hands and my hands burn. The burning is so extreme that it feels like the very fires of hell are lapping at my fingertips. I don’t know if I can handle it. I was so thirsty. I had to do it. My body needed it.

The sky is so blue today and so clear. The tree my parents planted when they first moved in is huge now and provides the perfect protection and shade from the extreme heat. It touches just the outskirts of my brilliant business. There still isn’t any bite on my new plan. Maybe $2 a cup was a little extreme. I’ll lower it a dollar. The store across the street always claims to have lower prices. I’ll show them. I can sell socks just as well as they can. I just got a new shipment of Nike’s new hydrofit socks. No beating this. I’ll sell them for the price I got them for. I’ll brake even, but there’s not any possible way that they could beat my price. Then maybe people will buy more socks. Then I’ll be rich.

Ok. $1 is a pretty good price. I have to get some bites off of this price. They always say raise the price to the point the people will go to. I’ll just wait a little bit longer and drink another cup. It might get warm. This is still a genius idea. I’m getting hungry, but I know people will love my idea. Oh look, here’s a car. The car drives up slowly to me, rims shining in my eyes. Here’s the big business man that wants to take my idea and make it global. I can see his silhouette in the shadow of the heavily tinted black Lamborghini doors. The window rolls down slowly and a partially drank milkshake drops from some unfriendly hands and thick pinkish brown liquid jumps out of the top of the cup and splatters in a perfect shaped upside down triangle on my newly written NOW $1 sign. I hear a snicker and the car squeals away from the corner of my road. My mind goes numb with rage. I now know that this is going to be totally worth it and I will make millions. If history class has taught me one thing, it has taught me that the oppressed rise with double the force. Take Rosa Parks and Martin Luther King Jr., they both were told they cannot amount to anything or receive the rights they want and they both ended up achieving them through all of the persecutions. I can stand up to a spilt milkshake. I will change the price to 75¢ per cup. This will bring in people and I won’t know what to do with myself. I will be forced to hire my friends to help me. I am going to sit down, fold my arms and wait. This will work.

The summer day is getting hotter and hotter. My head is now feeling like a Thanksgiving turkey being broiled in the oven. It is so incredibly hot and the ice cubes are slowly shrinking in my pitcher. The last penguin in the north pole watches all of the icebergs melting into oblivion and creating problems. He sits and sighs, remembering good times of sliding and swimming in the cold ocean. Now it is getting hotter, almost boiling. Everywhere he turns the fish float up on their backs with glazed over eyes and a stench that could only mean certain death. The iceberg the penguin is sitting on moans as a crack appears in the middle. The penguin scoots to the other side and hopes for the best. He knows that if he leaves to get food, the iceberg will be gone and an opportunity will be lost. It doesn’t matter how tired I am, I need to stay here. Maybe I can run into the house for some more ice, quickly.

The sun shines--I don’t know why it shines, for some reason this sun shines ridiculously hot; this sun shines so hot that eggs can boil on the side walk, fish even brush the surface and turn into fried fish sticks, children play outside and turn into lobsters (literally), smiles fade quickly with the lack of moisture in their bodies, and people become florescent white because of all of the florescent light bulbs they use for their houses. I need to stay out of the sun. A car is outside and when I run up to the table, 5 people are using their own cups to drink out of. I run out and ask them what they’re doing. They snicker and run. Some people really don’t see good things when they’re in front of them.

Protect the booty, that’s what I’ve been told and that’s what I plan on doin’. The captain gave me strict orders to protect this booty. Been found by a treasure map on some deserted island so it’s my job to protect the booty. I know them scallawags on this boat will try to steal some of it, but I have to protect the booty. Protect the booty, the captain told me to, so I have to follow through. I just thought of a genius plan--again--I know, I’m full of them. I will invite my friends to come over to help me guard this thing, I am a hard working person and business man and I need some support and help in creating my lemonade empire. They will protect this from predators and help me spread the word.

Walking down the street, the group looks sly, sharp, and excited? Their trendy sunglasses and clothing make them look like some sort of crew out of the movies. Walking up to me in a half circle pattern, I know that my friends are willing to be my body guards for my enterprise. I explained to them the rules and what their roles are over the phone, so I really expect no funny business. This will snap my business into shape.

After hours of waiting, it seemed, in the heat and my friends who were drunk off of the lemonade, another car stopped at the corner. They rolled down the window and threw 25¢ at me then drove off. I ran up to the coin, snatched it just before it hit the ground and kissed it. I kissed that quarter like it was the first glass fresh water I have drank in over 5 years, like it was gold that I had found after a long journey on a deserted island, like it was my saving grace in a gun fight, like it was my long lost lover, like it was a priceless jewel I just stole from an expensive dealer, like it was a drop of rain from a cloud hovering over my head on this hot day. I grabbed that quarter and held it up to my friends. They looked down at me like I might possibly be the craziest person they have ever met, and went back to drinking my precious liquid gold and chatting. Silly children, they don’t understand the importance of hard work. This idea is genius and I made a profit off of it. No one understands how genius my idea is and totally original, too. I’ll come back tomorrow and try again.

Today God decided to send Noah’s floods again, my lemonade stand is floating down the street. I know that I will make a ton of money today because I have a mobile business. I will be on the news as the world’s first floating Lemonade Stand, or it would if my mom would let me. Parents ruin everything.