New (temporary) job?

My parents still occasionally receive mail for me at their home, my permanent address until Westley and I were married. Last week, they received an official and unusual envelope for me.

"Estrella, we think you've gotten a notice for jury duty," they informed me.

"I don't understand how that could be," I replied. "I thought that was based on voting records, and I'm registered where I currently live, not at your address."

When Westley and I visited them for Easter yesterday, I was curious to see what was in store for me. Sure enough, the envelope contained a request for information so that I could be considered as a juror. It was addressed to me at my maiden name. I've now been married for well over a year, and my voting and driver's license information was changed more than a year ago too. Today, I called the voting records office near where my parents live; their records reflect the changes I had made, and the woman with whom I spoke indicated that the jury system may have found my name from an older list.

Because the information request simply directed me to make any changes to my name or address, I suppose it doesn't matter that their information is incorrect. I dutifully filled out the information request online ... and I am supposed to be called anytime within a year starting this June. I wonder what would have happened if my parents had moved and the mail couldn't have reached me?

As long as the summons doesn't interfere with 1) the crunch time before any of my performances or 2) my summer vacation, I don't mind serving. If, however, it majorly disrupts my plans, I will not be a happy camper. Apparently, however, there may be a perk ... my dad thinks that jurors get paid $25 each day they're called for duty. This is less than I make in one hour as a piano accompanist, but ... I guess it's better than nothing. It will be interesting to see how this pans out.

Hot Pink Dress

I don't know much about fashion. I am drawn to simplicity and what I see as "classic," rather than trendy. I'm awfully picky when it comes to clothing and often don't find things when I'm looking for them because it has to be just so. It has to fit exactly the right way, it has to be the right price, and if I'm not 100% convinced that it is for me, it goes back on the rack.

At Target a few years ago, I found a hot pink short-sleeved shirt dress with a matching (same color, same material) belt. I fell in love. Thinking back, this must have been Summer 2008 or earlier. The dress was deigned by (first name?) Mizrahi, a famous designer who collaborated (maybe still does?) with Target on affordable yet fashionable designs for women. When I put on the dress, I knew it was meant for me.

Reading The Secret Lives of Dresses this weekend (which I highly recommend!) made me think about what stories my own clothing would tell. This hot pink dress has some stories!

I remember wearing it in July 2008 on GradSchool's European choir tour. On one beautiful and HOT day in Trieste, Italy, I wore this dress. I remember walking around the gorgeous city, soaking in the sunshine. I remember visiting this tiny music-themed museum which was hosting a large exhibit on opera singer Maria Callas. A sweet, elderly Italian lady gave Westley and me a tour. She spoke no English, and my Italian consisted of "Non parliamo italiano" and the lyrics of the Italian arias I had studied. Somehow, we managed to communicate with gestures and facial expressions as she showed us the various instruments from the past.

At one point on that day, Westley and I decided to sit by the water ... and there's a picture of me taken that day that BestFriend says makes me "look like a movie star." My hair is twisted up into a bun held by a clip (because it was sweltering), and I'm wearing big sunglasses. My body is angled toward the water as I'm sitting on the stone steps which descend to the water, but my smiling face is turned toward the camera. Another goofier picture taken that day has me pretending to kiss a statue (and, of course, I no longer remember who the statue depicted).

I remember wearing the dress to one of the performances of my school musical in April 2009.

I remember wearing the dress to an event at the resort in Jamaica when my in-laws took us along with them on vacation in January 2010, right after Westley and I got married. They had a free trip after redeeming a certain number of points, and they simply redeemed more points to bring us along. My mother-in-law and I danced the night I wore the dress. Loud music was playing, and several of my favorite line dances were played (Cupid Shuffle, Cha-cha-slide, etc). Both she and I flew down to the dance floor and started dancing away. By the end of the dance party, I was sweating but exhilarated.

I wore the dress to one of the performances of the musical I was in last summer. I loved wearing my pretty clothing to the theatre before changing into my costume for the show.

The dress is now slightly faded after many washings and much love ... but I look forward to wearing it again when the weather is warm enough.

Luxury

Last week was a long week at work. Long hours every day. Exhaustion and frustration. This next week will be equally challenging, if not more so ... as some of the days will be even longer.

On Thursday, Westley told me he had a surprise planned ... a date for us on Saturday. We're mostly homebodies ... we don't eat out often (because he's a fabulous cook!), and we don't go out to fancy shows or events. We're saving to buy a house .... and we're also just naturally frugal, I suppose.

On Friday morning, I looked in the paper and saw that there was going to be a choral concert in the community, featuring a style of music we both enjoy. I expected that this was the surprise ... and while I would be happy to go, I was disappointed that I had inadvertently ruined the surprise.

Somewhere around hour 10 of the 13 hours I was at work on Friday, I called Westley to check in with him, hear about his day, etc. He asked if I was still excited for my surprise. I said yes, but that I also had a guess as to what it was. He nudged me until I shared my suspicion, and then he gleefully told me that my guess was not the date he'd planned. It was still a surprise. :)

On Saturday morning, I hemmed and hawed (how do you spell this?) about wanting to treat myself to a pedicure, a luxury I hadn't had since my sister was married in September. Why should I pay $30+ to do something I could easily do (and had been doing since September) for myself? Westley insisted I go ... so I relented. It was blissful ... sitting in an electronic massage chair, reading a wonderful book, and being pampered. I even stopped by a coffee shop on the way home to redeem a gift card (Christmas gift from a student) for a beloved chai latte.

A little later that afternoon, Westley announced it was time for our date. He'd hinted that it was "somewhat of a performance" that we were attending, and on the ride there, he confirmed my new suspicion that he was taking me to a movie. He asked if I'd guessed which movie but I honestly admitted that I had no idea what was playing. When I saw the list of titles on the marquis, I knew instantly! He bought us tickets for Jane Eyre because he knows it's my favorite novel. (The movie was hauntingly lovely, although the very end of the book- my favorite part- was not included.) After the movie, we spent a quiet and peaceful evening at home.

Today feels luxurious because the sun is shining (even though April's chill is lingering), the tree outside the window has these beautiful, deep pink buds which are thinking about opening, and because I made time to thoroughly scrub down our bathroom. I'm not the most organized of people, so I feel especially content when I've sorted through my stuff to get rid of items I no longer need and/or after I've cleaned. Normally, cleaning or take care of other chores are the type of activity I tend to put off while procrastinating. Westley loathes ironing, so I agreed to take on that chore when we got married ... and there was a green shirt of his which stayed at the bottom of the ironing pile for months (September through January? February?) because it took me that long to actually get through the [short] pile of items to be ironed. So ... when I've made an effort and the instant rewarding feeling comes flooding through me (Hurray! I've completed something and our place is slightly more organized!), I always wonder why it has taken me so long ... if I derive so much enjoyment from getting something done. (I was going to write something about "instant gratification" from completing a chore, but it's really not so instantaneous if it takes me such a long time to get it done!)

Luxury is getting a pretty pedicure in order to be ready for the lovely Spring weather. (Who cares if it's not yet warm enough? My toes are cute and I'll wear those open-toed kitten heels even if it is still in the 40s outside!)

Luxury is going on a date with my husband (and it's a bonus that the movie was based on my favorite book)!

Luxury is looking over the freshly scrubbed sink, toilet, sink, and mirror and thinking with a smile, "Good. That's finally done and BEAUTIFUL, and I'm hoping it will stay clean over the next 5 days until my in-laws come to visit!"

Luxury is finishing a wonderful novel, mourning its end, and enjoying the lingering grasp it has on your imagination.

Luxury is writing the third blog entry within a short time span after neglecting the blog for nearly a year ... and realizing that returning to writing is like visiting with an old friend. Time may have passed, but you can pick up where you left off and it feels like it's been no time at all.

Minor irritation

One of the things which annoys me is when a child does not turn in an assignment and then claims to his/her parent that they have. I dutifully check all of the potential places a child could have submitted an assignment (even though there is one designated place for each class). Then I respond to the parent stating that I have checked and re-checked (because the first time I check is when I've graded the rest of the class's assignment), and, alas, the assignment was not turned in. I usually have them ask their child to check his/her binder ... because usually that's where the assignment was all along. The parent, of course, does NOT apologize for making me do all the extra work of searching again when they should have asked their child to double-check in the first place.

What really irritates me, however, is when the parent simply assumes that if the child can't find the assignment that I must be lying when I say the child hasn't turned it in. (You know how "the customer is always right?" Sometimes it feels like the sales philosophy is taking over education ... "the student is always right," regardless of my years of experience, my professionalism, my education. I'm not saying I don't make mistakes or I'm never wrong ... but why are some people so quick to believe their [irresponsible] child over me?)

The icing on the cake is when the parents simply assume it's no trouble for me to then go out of my way to make extra photocopies of an assignment due weeks (sometimes months earlier) so that the child can make up the work. Yes, I want the child to be successful. No, I don't want his/her grade to be severely affected by his/her irresponsibility. However, REALLY? Of course there's no gratitude. It's just an expectation that I will do all the extra work to make one child happy. And you know how many of these issues come up within a few days of the grading deadline? More than I'd care to share.

Nearly a year

A year in review ... can't really sum up the past year in one post. I started blogging (elsewhere) in March 2001, and I'm feeling guilty that I basically stopped for one year before I reached a decade!

Anyway, enough whining about stopping ... and here's to a fresh beginning (after revisiting the past for a little) ...

Past year: Reached tenure, did the one-income deal for 8 months as newlyweds until Westley scored an amazing job, played piano often (church choir tour, local camp, district concert), performed in a show for the first time since college (ironically, in the last musical that I had performed in college too), etc. Loving married life. Marrying Westley = best decision I've ever made (unless you want to count going to GradSchool where I met Westley ...) :)

One of the most exciting things for me in this past year is that I'm making a name for myself. In my life, looking back, God always placed amazing opportunities in my path - opportunities that would further strengthen/develop my skills to help me become the person I am today. Myriad opportunities. So many opportunities that I simply decided to "try" for even though I had no real hope that such opportunities would come to fruition for me. Somehow, the majority of the opportunities did work out ... and have become part of my tapestry of experiences woven together.

Then there was a dry spell - also known as - the time period in which I began my first job, survived, and, well, began to excel. This year, people have started to notice. This is exciting! I was asked to co-present at a [semi-local] conference (out of the blue ... I hadn't applied ... I had only 2 years of experience ... How and why did they think of me?). Then my co-presenter and I decided to submit our materials for a [broader regional] conference ... and we've been accepted! We'll be revamping our materials for late this summer ... exciting! I was asked to take on a [semi-local] service opportunity in an administrative role. I had a wonderful time, I learned a great deal ... and there's talk of me taking on a more challenging position next year!

There have been many times where I've felt disheartened (an increase in people who question how I do my job - being vague on purpose here), overworked (with no raise since I was hired), and under-appreciated. (Our society doesn't value teachers as they once did, and the media is fueling the let's-get-those-overpaid-whiny-teachers frenzy which seems to be spreading around the country.) When I get in one of those sad little poor-me mindsets, I have difficulty compartmentalizing; I love what I do. I am what I do because I pour my heart, my energy, my being into what I do. It's not a job; it's my life.

Then I have to remind myself to reflect on the beauty in my life: the smiles and greetings I share with my students, the sweet little surprise gifts (I have a collage of hand-drawn illustrations which cover the large wall space above my desk in my room), and the wonderful moments when the music becomes magic and we're all within the embrace of the song.

Creative adolescents #32476

After learning about Spanish-speaking cultures (foods, exports, inventions, dances, architecture, etc.), students were asked to name the contribution from a Spanish-speaking culture that they believed to be the most important. One child wrote the following (edited for spelling only):

"I think cocoa beans are most important because I love cocoa. Without cocoa, there will be no more chocolate. If there is no more chocolate men will get very angry and start a revolution. It would rain mad cows, destroying the Mission to Mars project, all because of no chocolate. And it's very yummy in my tummy."

Numbers

2 times I've met with a few other singers in the area for a small a cappella group

2.1 months since Westley and I got married

10 snow days this school year

15 days until the school musical

22 days until a major performance

1,000,000 times that I remember that I should write ... and simply can't find/make the time