Sunday, September 24, 2006

You Step On Them Once, And They Keep Crawling Around

Every year I’ve taught, I’ve gotten hopelessly out of shape. We’re talking thigh-dimple, arm-waggle, and tire-tummy. This year, I vowed it wasn’t going to happen. I mean, one of the three, I can deal with; but total atrophy is just too depressing.

Alas, my fitness plan hit a snag on Thursday when I had a little tangle with a treadmill. I swear there are bruises to show for my accident, but Dan says they’re too small to be seen by his human eye.

After the crash, the trainer at the Y wanted me to push me out of the fitness center in a wheelchair, but something like, you know, dignity mandated that I walk.

Sunday, September 17, 2006

So Modern, So Hip, So Hip

Yesterday, Shef’s uncle-to-be introduced him to the art of making pillow forts. Needless to say, this activity was a big hit, and he’s expressed interest in further building:

“I wanna make a phallus, Daddy,” he said, hopping up on our bed and stacking pillows in a triangle.

“You mean you want to make a palace,” Dan corrected him as I choked back my guffaws.

“Yeah,” Shef said enthusiastically, “I wanna make a small phallus.”

Good lord. It seems to me that Freud would have a field day with this.

And probably also with this:

Indeed, that’s Shef wearing my lycra suit, which served me well yesterday, except when I swam what seemed like miles off course. Dan took a couple more pictures of my ass in the suit, which are obviously not suitable for blog posting.

Thursday, September 14, 2006

Bankin' on Jesus At This Point

So, I’m almost done with the second week of school. In a nutshell, the scholars have been agreeable and the lessons have been planned. The only glitch is that I basically slip into a coma after 8pm, so grading is problematic.

Despite the fatigue, I have been sticking to my early-morning fitness plan, which is fortunate because I’m registered for a triathlon on Saturday.

I’ll be donning my lycra suit once again to enjoy the pure spirit of sport. Because, you know, sport just isn’t sport if it’s not form-fitting.

At the end of last week, the sophs gave speeches about their past, present, and future interests; and one kid mentioned that he has completed several triathlons. After class, I told him that I too am a budding triathlete. “I’m doing my second race next weekend,” I said proudly.

“Cool,” he said. "Is it the one at Lake Minnetonka?"

"Um hmm," I nodded.

"Yeah," he said, "I’m doing that one, too.”

I think I managed to maintain a smile at this point, but inside I was a little panicky because what are the chances that photos of me in my skin-tight zip-up top will not circulating the school on Monday morning?

Thursday, September 7, 2006

She's Sort of an Artsy-Craftsy Macaroni-Gluer

I’ve set a goal for myself of being more fashion-forward at work. This means wearing my hair down in fun new style and having higher standards for outfits. “Relatively stain-free” and “only kind of wrinkled” will no longer cut it, I’ve decided.

So, today, I wore my first pair of pointy shoes. I know the pointy shoes trend has been going on for a couple of years and is probably on the way out by now, but I’ll admit, I’ve never been an early-adopter when it comes to fashion.

Anyway, first thing this morning, I started second-guessing the shoes, pretty much as soon as I headed across the parking lot toward the building. First, I could barely look up from my feet, the points were so mesmerizing. And second, I must say, I didn’t feel chic. Instead, I felt like the Wicked Witch of the West had melted beneath my pants.

After tromping around for the whole day, however; and after making just one little idiotic comment to my neighbor, a cool new teacher who obviously doesn’t have the same issues around image that I’m experiencing, about changing my life one shoe at a time, I’m ready to pronounce the shoes One Small Step for Woman and One Giant Step for Career Womankind.

Or something.

Monday, September 4, 2006

A Jet-Setter Would Definitely Be Interested in Packing Things That Don't Wrinkle

The nights are getting darker, The Fair is over (my corn dogs, mini donuts, cheese curds, malt, fries, and Sweet Martha’s cookies are digested)…and of course, my two-year-old continues to grow his attitude:

Me: Why don’t you wear your sneakers?
Shef: Actually, I’ll wear my crocs.

All of which means, it’s time to go back to work. I have my outfit picked, my lessons planned, and I’m really quite excited to meet my students. I think this is the best mindset I’ve ever adopted on the last day of the summer.

Of course it helps that we’re discussing a great book right off the bat. I decided I love summer reading. Things could definitely be worse.

Friday, September 1, 2006

We Don't Really Have Time to Dick Around With Everyone's Personal Problems

I’ve been a denizen of Web 2.0 lately, and as such I’ve been participating in an online forum for triathletes. It’s called, but there are all sorts of crazy-fit veterans hanging out there, as well.

I started a thread this week asking if there were any other teachers on the boards and if so, how they planned to keep up with their fitness once work got crazy.

Several committed educators/exercisers wrote supportive messages with good tips, such as:

Set reasonable goals!

Work out on both weekend days!

Get up really early a couple of times a week!


Take a couple of weeks off until you get into the swing of things!

Some other triathlon snark-keteers took the opportunity to remind me that their lives as 12-month employees were already immeasurably more difficult than mine, and despite not having the summers off (although they would surely love to), they manage to accomplish goals much more lofty than my measely aims.

Humph. Sorry I asked.