Welcome to me...
I am not sure why I decided to give this a whirl. I am not ultra hip and cool. I don't hang out at the trendy clubs (anymore) and I am basically average in most ways--except my height--which is pretty darn short.
Anyway--my friends love my dating stories, I have many stories about my job--teaching 8th graders, and I like to talk, so why not?
If you ever feel like you are totally neurotic, and that people have no idea how to handle you, and that your life will always be in shambles, let me tell you what you need to do...
Teach 8th graders. Seriously. I know I have quirks, I know I am hyper-sensitive, but really, trust me, no matter how strange my life may feel to me, they are far worse off than me. I leave at the end of the day saying to myself, "You couldn't PAY me to be 14 again!!!" College aged--there in a heartbeat, but not 14!
And I love my students, don't get me wrong. They are funny, and sweet and I really have a good group of them this year. But when I see them, in their hormonally driven state, writing notes to the opposite sex, and putting on so much Axe, that you can almost see the stench, a la Pepe Le Pew, and the girls back stabbing their best friend while borrowing her lip gloss--I am thankful I am not there anymore. It was hard enough to navigate through when I was their age, I can't even imagine what it would be like today.
Here is the problem, though...Tuesday is my last day of school. Sure, it sounds great, but then, I have no one to make me feel less ridiculous. When I am stressing about a guy calling, or the pimple that is starting to pop-up right before my weekend in Chicago, what is going to make me feel a little more sane? Who will be fumbling around, more lost than I am, to make me know that in the grand scheme, I am doing just fine? I may need to talk to my doctor about a summer plan of Prozac, or something.
Anyway, that is all I have for now. I am supposed to have a date today. A good one. I really hope he calls and we are on still. I really hope that late tonight, or sometime tomorrow, you are all reading about my thrilling day, riding a Harley through wine-country and a nice picnic on the rolling hills. If not, I will just lurk the hallways tomorrow listening for sounds of, "How could he not call me? I thought for sure he was the one! I thought he LOVED me!!!"
Anyway--my friends love my dating stories, I have many stories about my job--teaching 8th graders, and I like to talk, so why not?
If you ever feel like you are totally neurotic, and that people have no idea how to handle you, and that your life will always be in shambles, let me tell you what you need to do...
Teach 8th graders. Seriously. I know I have quirks, I know I am hyper-sensitive, but really, trust me, no matter how strange my life may feel to me, they are far worse off than me. I leave at the end of the day saying to myself, "You couldn't PAY me to be 14 again!!!" College aged--there in a heartbeat, but not 14!
And I love my students, don't get me wrong. They are funny, and sweet and I really have a good group of them this year. But when I see them, in their hormonally driven state, writing notes to the opposite sex, and putting on so much Axe, that you can almost see the stench, a la Pepe Le Pew, and the girls back stabbing their best friend while borrowing her lip gloss--I am thankful I am not there anymore. It was hard enough to navigate through when I was their age, I can't even imagine what it would be like today.
Here is the problem, though...Tuesday is my last day of school. Sure, it sounds great, but then, I have no one to make me feel less ridiculous. When I am stressing about a guy calling, or the pimple that is starting to pop-up right before my weekend in Chicago, what is going to make me feel a little more sane? Who will be fumbling around, more lost than I am, to make me know that in the grand scheme, I am doing just fine? I may need to talk to my doctor about a summer plan of Prozac, or something.
Anyway, that is all I have for now. I am supposed to have a date today. A good one. I really hope he calls and we are on still. I really hope that late tonight, or sometime tomorrow, you are all reading about my thrilling day, riding a Harley through wine-country and a nice picnic on the rolling hills. If not, I will just lurk the hallways tomorrow listening for sounds of, "How could he not call me? I thought for sure he was the one! I thought he LOVED me!!!"
posted by Beth at
7:26 AM
2 Comments:
Miss Bethie-
Loved your first 'blog' and I will come back for more.
When, in need, this summer, you can come to me for some almost 9 but going on 13 attitude that I am getting from my youngster, along with her friends that will be taking over my house and pool and probably my sanity!
As for the date- if he isn't the one, it's his lose!
By
Anonymous, at 5:28 PM
Ahhh...but read on my dear! We DID go out. While I can only speak for myself, I had a great time.
I think he wanted to kiss me, but was too shy. Now I am totally kicking myself for not making the first move. Dang it!
I'm so excited that 2 people have posted on my blog! :) (I really need to get out more!)
And if it is a reason to visit with you...I can deal with some 9-going-on-13 'tude!
By
Beth, at 5:35 PM
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