smorgasbundle recommends: babybel cheese.
i’ve been packing one of these in my lunch for the last month.
fan.freaking.tastic.
it’s the perfect amount of creamy rich cheese.
i recommend the gouda and the cheddar.
but, it’s not just the taste.
as always, i’m a sucker for packaging.
so, when cheese comes in a convenient wax container that you can then play with?
that’s LOVE.
on writing.
“To write: to try meticulously to retain something, to cause something to survive; to wrest a few precises scraps from the void as it grows, to leave somewhere a furrow, a trace, a mark or a few signs.”
–George Perecon writi
even i’m shaking my head at this one.
decision 2010.
no, it’s not for government office.
it’s EVEN MORE IMPORTANT than that.
it’s about my wedding ceremony shoes, people.
here are the two frontrunners thus far:
shoe A
OR
shoe B
democracy!
american idol!
text your vote!
(okay, don’t really text your vote. or, you can, just to amuse me while i’m at school with all those bright minds hanging on my every word gleaning my infinite knowledge…because we know that’s TOTALLY what’s happening.)
rock the vote!
WEDDING SHOES 2010.
how i feel about it sometimes: favorite place edition
it’s my bed.
my favorite place right now, that is.
guess where i am right now as i type this?
yep.
my friday night plans involve having to write a paper (boo)… but from the gloriousness that is my bed (yay!)
i don’t know if it’s because it’s the only place i pretty much stop these days
because i go go go go go
and think think think think think
and plan plan…
i’m too tired to even finish the repetition.
don’t get me wrong
life is good.
FULL.
but good.
and a little, but heavenly, part of that is because of
my bed.
be my valentine, bed.
and i’ll make you these sweet pillows.
perhaps it’s the crazy fuzzy amazing sheets with which my mom graced my bed
or that it’s big enough for me to stretch out, snow-angel style
or because it’s quiet and calm
but
i have never, ever loved my bed as much as i do right now.
the only thing missing
is
a french boyfriend
with whom to cuddle in bed
but
that’ll come in about four months.
ode to my bed.
you are the best.
bedder than ever.
fin.
smorgasweekend.

i picked up a lovely new scarf this weekend, and i really don’t want to take it off. it’s soft, and thin, and makes everything a little more fun. $8 at the buffalo exchange, compliments of my french boyfriend who (as usual) graciously bought it for me upon my realization (as usual) that i left my wallet in the car (as usual). ignore the bad hair and tired look on my face, and look at how GREAT this scarf is. LOOK! SCARF! PUNCTUATION!
we were in denver spending the evening with our good friends garrett and courtney (and their dog, jetski) having drinks and dinner at steuben’s, where we refrained from ordering the drink for six people that is served in a fish bowl. this was followed by inappropriate laughter at select awkward phrases from garrett’s ancient mountaineering book and lots of throwing jetski’s gross stuffed animal around for fetching.
in the morning we met ben and holly, my good friends from nashville and some of my favorite people in the world, who were in town for a long weekend. they were in already good company, bringing along their friend erin and colby & tiffany, nashville transplants who now live in denver.
we ate at city o city, which won many accolades from our somewhat skeptical crowd. their breakfast choices are not vast, but who needs many choices when everything tastes so good? not me. i recommend the sweet potato cinnamon bun, and having brunch conversation that ranges from horse vets to gun control to shady rock and roll venues to the state of education.
after perusing the buffalo exchange where i acquired the aforementioned scarf, we hightailed it down to the springs to make it to our pre-marital counseling session somewhat on time, which required someone to run a light because it refused to turn to green. i then learned that i have no problems whatsoever, and am practically perfect in every way, including our relationship. but of course!
[kidding.]
scheduling things on the weekends reminds me to have a life. and if i forget, fitz (my teacher at Unnamed High School) shoves me out the door on fridays and yells at me to LET IT GO ALREADY and forget all about teaching for awhile.
i’m surrounded by really great people. [this means you.]
sour grapes, bad whine.
i was reading around the internet today, and came upon this article in a san francisco paper. it was a sarcastic (and, to be warned, somewhat caustic) editorial on the state of our attitudes these days. but it caught my eye.
in short, we all need a big time out and attitude adjustment.
the author ends by saying this, which i thought was poignant (emphasis mine):
“…Not only are we disappointed, we need to express it. Vent it. Hiss it and spit it and hurl it like fistfuls of mental manure at the great wall of hey, screw you.
You have but to take a peek in the comments section below this column, any column, any article on this or any news site whatsoever, to see just how mean and nasty we have become. It does not matter what the piece might be about. Obama’s speech. High speed rail. Popular dog breeds. Your grandmother’s cookies. The anonymous comments section of any major media site or popular blog will be so crammed with bile and bickering, accusation and pule, hatred and sneer you can’t help but feel violently disappointed by the shocking lack of basic human kindness and respect, much less a sense of positivism or perspective.
Maybe this, then, is the ultimate upshot of our endless, self-wrought swirl of sour disappointment, of never having our impossible needs fully met, of constantly being thwarted in our desire to have the world revolve around our exact set of specifications and desires.
Our disappointment begins to curdle, to turn back on itself, poison the heart, turn us nasty and low. It shifts from merely being a national mood or general temperament, into a way of being. A wiring, deep and harmful and permanent. It’s all very disappointing, really.”
conan o’brien, with my classroom rules.
hello, yellow.
oh, my, really?
ahem.
sigh.
ahem.
well, it’s been a daunting january around the smorgasbundle abode. upon hearing the news (2 days before the first day at school) that i would be taking a block class of juniors for the entire semester, i promptly did what any other student-teacher-jumping-at-the-chance would do.
panic.
now, i’ve become a slightly more anxious person in recent years from time to time, as certain looming deadlines creeped closer, but nothing in any of the last decade of my life compared to the first weeks of school for me.
i literally felt like i was drowning, while being awake.
stricken.
i can’t exactly put my finger on the particulars of this perfect storm that tugged my boat under, but it just seemed like everything descended all at once in my head.
[i will interrupt this story to say that as i sit here typing, the french boyfriend keeps wandering in, playing with a yoyo while distractedly walking and talking to someone on the phone. this image never ceases to make me smile. he LOVES to yoyo.]
where was i? oh yes, i was drowning in a sea of my own misery. YES.
so, nobody i work with (and definitely not the students) really knew what was going on, because i at least have some modicum of composure and life experience to PULL MY FREAKING ACT TOGETHER, LADY! and not totally torpedo the class. but standing in front of a class of students at 7:45am and trying to motivate them to work for nearly TWO HOURS first thing in the morning and planning an entire semester of curriculum, all the while knowing how boring you are being despite your best efforts?
i think i have an idea of how stand-up comics working the circuit feel.
i was praying the school would institute a two-drink minimum requirement for my classes.
joking! [mostly].
these are not bad kids. quiet. stubbornly disengaged and sleepy. determined to do as little hard thinking as possible. feeling the weight of the hopelessness they’ve been subscribing to for years. did i mention quiet?
it took a week for one of the kids to finally say good morning back to me when i addressed the class.
these relationships, they take time. which is difficult for a people-pleaser-want-everyone-to-like-me-instantly person like myself. and this, ultimately, is why i found this time so trying, so baptismal (by fire). because teaching is (and i contend that it always will be) a personality-driven profession. you have to be genuinely you, each day, and set the temperature of the room. as it turns out, i’ve always been the kind of person who adapts, figures out the tenor of a room and adapts to work within it.
so now i have to do the opposite, despite a lot of momentum pulling these kids the other way (when they’re together in a class). alone? they are often different. if i could just be paid to tutor kids one-on-one, i’d jump at the chance. that’s how much i like that part of my job. the rest is by far the most challenging thing i’ve done.
but, we’ve rounded nearly the third week of school and are marching towards february and, well, march 😉 as the days move along, i continue to learn a steep amount. Colin Powell said “There are no secrets to success. It is the result of preparation, hard work, and learning from failure.” pretty simple. these are the types of things we like to put up in classrooms. the reality of living that every day takes absolutely all my energy and much energy from the lovely people around me who continue to support me. i can’t say that i feel happy each day, but i can say that i’m exactly where i need to be, and that’s the most i can ask for. and that, THAT, makes me happy.
and now that i’ve come up for air, i decided to wave my flag and bring you over for a chat. let’s not make it so long next time.










