Overwhelmed

Today is the official first day of my summer! Last year, on the first day of my summer, I was exhausted and SO SO SO relieved to be done with the school year. If I recall it accurately, I scheduled a facial and massage for myself and then slept the rest of the day. I was worn down to the bone and could hardly make it to the end. I had my wedding to look forward to as well, so I really was itching for that checkout and last drive home. This year was different. This year I got to teach at Calvin Christian School in the community of South Holland, and it has been the best year of my life.

For one thing, the year is so much better because Brian is in it. Our first year of marriage together. I love living life with him, trusting him, learning from him, and growing with him through all the excitement and lulls of life. So he is a big factor in this year. Another thing happened, though, too. This was the year I found out that I was a good teacher. 

I said this to my kids and families gathered in my classroom on the last day of school, amid ridiculous sloppy tears (as per usual). I always I knew that I was passionate about kids, equality, and achievement. I knew I loved people and I knew that it challenged me immensely to help kids learn in all kinds of ways. But...I didn't know if I was good at it. In fact, I felt like I sucked at it. I was so weighed down in the muck of a broken system, overwhelmed with the responsibility of carrying my kids' burdens with them. My principal and coworkers, also passionate about kids and their achievement, had to bear way more than they should have been given, too. I couldn't handle the responsibility. I would cry and say to God all the time, "I can't do this on my own, so help me!" I loved my kids so much but never had a feeling that I was really good at this whole teaching gig. I didn't see my impact and felt defeated by the end of the year. As a school we would crawl our way to the last day of school. I felt like a total failure.

Then I went to Calvin. I figured I would give this teaching thing one more year, just to make sure. Then, something amazing happened: my kids showed up! They are kind, hilarious, outgoing, joyful, obedient, thoughtful, sensitive, talkative, brilliant, cooperative, and just all-around wonderful. Suddenly, I looked around and saw that all of the weight wasn't just on my shoulders. I stood with my coworkers, with my students' families, with my principal, with the local churches and we all took on this job of raising and teaching kids together. Of course it isn't a perfect system, but let me tell you, it's beautiful.  My kids grew together and ate up everything I had for them to learn. I could just feel the difference in the air. Our end of year tests confirmed what I saw in the classroom: that we had learned a lot together. The same kind of growth was going on all over the school too. I finally felt like I was a good fit for this teaching profession and I have my students to thank for it. They are such a special class of kids.

Now, for next year, I am leaving Calvin. Timothy Christian School, a school three miles from us where Brian also teaches, had an opening in second grade that I will be filling to be closer to home. The nearly 2 hours in the car each day was wearing on me, and it makes sense for where Brian and I will be in the future. I was overwhelmed at the prospect of leaving Calvin, my coworkers, and my kids. With the past few weeks though, it's been okay. It's been a bittersweet but good time of wrapping up the year and saying goodbye. There is a veteran teacher (who is so great!) taking my place. Calvin will continue to be awesome and grow as the family that it is. I'll be joining another great family, with a slightly different flavor, but still one that serves the same powerful and good God.    I am overwhelmed with the blessing of doors opened and faithful people that were put into my life this year.

As wonderful and sad and joyful and emotional as it was to say goodbye to my kids, I am looking forward to a little bit more peace. This will be my fourth classroom in four years of teaching, and the prospect of stability and routine sounds divine to my mind right now. A little less time in the car. A little more time with Brian. I'm looking forward to ending school years with a little bit less drama, because I want to find my spot and settle down. I am all done with tears because this past year has been so incredibly good. This was the year I discovered that I was good at teaching.

Do you know how it feels to discover what you're good at? Completely overwhelming. 

My Kids

Brian and I don't have kids. We don't plan to for a while at least. That conversation is a funny one to have when you're not ready to have kids yet (Well, when are you ever truly ready? Do you ever become ready? YOU GUYS I FEEL LIKE I WILL NEVER BE READY.). I'm all like "Uh, no kids on the horizon, right?" And Brian's all like, "Uh, yep. Let me know if and when you change your mind and I'll do the same." And I'm all like, "Great. Same page! Wanna go out to eat without having to book a babysitter?" **High five!!**

I went through a phase earlier this school year where I was so tired, so worn down, that I proclaimed to Brian every day on my return home from school that HOW COULD WE EVER HAVE KIDS? I HAVE 23 KIDS ALL DAY LONG AND I NEED A BREAK. WE ARE NEVER HAVING KIDS. He, being equally tired, was all good with my proclamation. We aren't so militantly against children now (hey the doldrums of January really get to a teacher's brain) but we really are toast by the end of the work day. How do you people do it? How do you manage the feelings, spiritual growth, academic goals, and social development of two dozen small humans all day and then have an ounce of patience left in you by the time you get home? How?

As long as my brain is wandering in this direction, what if we never did have kids? My mind freaks out: would my parents or Brian's parents be devastated? Would people judge me? Ack! All the silly insecurities that come with adulthood decisions seem to pile up if you let them. I've had random pangs of that guilt or the potential of letting people down and decided to ignore them. A perk of adulthood is that you get to make those decisions based on what works best for you, not on the obligations projected upon you by society. So I suppose that's the game plan for Brian and me at the moment. We don't have a timeline, or really even a set plan. We just know that the next best thing for us is to not have kids right now.

I was thinking of that next best thing, and having a time without having kids yet, because it allows me the energy, creativity, and opportunity to call my students "my kids." I love my kids. My kids are all different shades of skin, all different types of brains, and from all different types of families and churches. My kids love each other, mess up together, love to learn, and crack me up on the daily. If Brian and I one day decide to have kids, I hope they turn out to be true individuals, just like my kids now. I hope they like singing, dancing, clapping, and selfies just as much as my kids. I hope they love reading, building, and writing letters just like my kids. I hope they love Jesus, live kindly, and show a care and concern that says when you are hurting I am hurting too, just like my kids.

Sometimes I come home from school exhausted from helping to raise other people's children, but then I remember that they're partly mine too. As a teacher, you're constantly helping little people navigate the social transition between their home environment and a school environment and how to do that. It can be hard to help children translate what it means to share, encourage, compete, and grow together when they all come from different places themselves.

But you know what? The differences? And the rich diversity that happens when all 24 of us step into our classroom each day? That's what I love about my kids. I'm so glad God gave them to me.

 

Third Round

Hi friends!

That greeting sounds cheery, because I partly am, but I hope you also sensed a dash of nervous panic, because there's some of that going on in my voice too.

Tomorrow is the FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL. It is a special one to me. It is my third year in this teaching profession, something I never envisioned myself doing, say, 5 years ago, but am now so invested into it. God brings me to new places in the strangest and best of ways. I am at a new school, too.

This place, Calvin Christian School, only a month into working there, has become so special to me. It's a Christian school that doesn't run and hide from this world, but bravely stays put in its roots, making the ground where children meet and play and learn to be something I consider almost sacred. Real life is messy, and I think this place embraces that in this continual effort to make our way as Christians in a broken and beautiful world. I hope to contribute to it somehow, if only God will use me.

I'm honored to be a part of it all. 

The old building surely shows its age, but I love seeing the crazy dedication of my colleagues to transform it into a kid-friendly, inviting place. My room has been my second home these past weeks, hosting me for more waking hours than my apartment. It is ready for kids to come through the door and I have high hopes for it in the coming months. Check out some photos, and then come stop by to say hello to Mrs. Whartnaby if you can :)

A teacher friend gave this to me for my school year. I'm a sucker for a bunting. 

 

My New Normal

Sometimes I laugh at my own life, not because it's funny, but because it's ridiculous. Today Brian asked how the day went at school. I replied with, "It was good, kind of a chill and easy day." Then I rewound my brain and realized that today involved two altercations between students escalating to inappropriate insults, one bloody nose as a result of a punch thrown during buddy reading time, and a middle finger being raised during a vocabulary lesson. Hmm. Not exactly what I used to consider an easy day. Of course in this past year and a half my definition of "normal" has drastically changed. But nonetheless, on these "normal" days it's nice to have a daydream here or there, and of course I'm turning to wedding thoughts. That's another part of my new normal. Want to see what I'm dreaming of? Can you guess my favorite color as of late? I'm liking the look of this new normal more and more each day :)

 

Oh Snap! ple.

So many apple-y things are happening in first grade. I've had more fun this year with really hitting home fun activities around more thematic ideas. So, of course, it is apple mania lately in Room 25. We made an apple bar graph, made an apple book, ate apples and charted our favorite apple color, wrote everything we knew about apples, use apples in word problems, learned apple poems, and read apple books. It's only fitting that last Friday we went to an apple orchard. It was a blast.

Going out to the apple trees

We went to County Line Orchard in Hobart, Indiana. My kids boarded the bus amongst tall buildings and concrete, and got off of the bus with wide eyes at trees, fields, and blue skies. We got a tour of how honeybees help grow the apples, how the apples are sorted and cleaned, and finally hopped on a wagon that took us out to pick our own apples. Each kid got a bag full and had a blast running around the trees. We went back, ate lunch outside at picnic tables, and ended our day at a farm and play area where we could watch ducks, pet goats, and climb on each other (the last part of the list was not supposed to happen, but it did). It was cute. I hate being that teacher who gets overly sentimental at her children, but for all of the planning, herding, wrangling, and directing they made me do, it was totally worth it to see my kids out and about in the fresh air.  This year will be the year of field trips, let me tell you what.

This is K, asleep on my lap. Knocked out. Being 6 is exhausting. 

Spaghetti Brain

I forgot to turn the washer on.

I was hungry and I had no food except a box of macaroni and cheese and I had Teach For America deliverables due tonight and I had to watch video tutorials on my vision statement and I had to do 60 pages of reading and annotating for my grad class tomorrow night and my principal asked for data on my struggling student by tomorrow morning and I accidentally left half of the math tests I had to grade at school on my desk and I had to call the apple orchard because our numbers aren't the same as our confirmation letter and I had to plan small groups and pair my kids into reading buddies based on their levels and my mom called to chat and I had to wait on hold for 25 minutes to track down missing concert tickets from UPS for Friday night and my roommate had an interesting weekend to tell me about and my stupid computer won't load the Americorps webpage so I'm in trouble with Dominican University and I have one new follower on twitter and I have to empty the dishwasher and I have to pack a lunch for tomorrow and I have an early staff meeting to prepare for and I put my dirty laundry in the washer at 5:30 and I forgot to turn the washer on. 

That is one big, bad, run-on sentence. 

It's 9:00 now. That was over three hours ago, and the washer is still not going. This is one of those nights, when the juggling act of being the human being named Anna Gesch is sometimes too hard for me to do. Just too hard to do. Teach For America, Dominican University, and the LEARN Charter School, while all great institutions in their own right, have on this evening, September 4th, 2013, combined all of their bureaucratic power to load down my brain with obligations and flaming hoops such that I am now sitting on my couch, unable to do anything. Completely paralyzed. A few hours later, it has happened. 

My brain has turned to spaghetti. 

Buon appetito, working world, adulthood, and night school. Tonight, you've eaten me alive.

But just for tonight. 

I'm going to sleep.  

My Second First

Well people, my first day of teaching for this school year is TOMORROW. Yes, TOMORROW. August 1st. I'll bet you're thinking to yourself, "Hey wait, Anna, I thought you just finished teaching last year like four weeks ago!" And to that I would reply, "YOU'RE PAINFULLY CORRECT." Okay, enough of me whining about the fact that my summer vacation is only four weeks long. The point is this: the new school year is starting! I have a few updates for you because so much has happened to my teaching career in the last two weeks.

Room 25. Tomorrow, the lights go on and kids stream in.

The main one? Are you ready for this? I will no longer be teaching second grade. This year I'll be teaching a class of 28 first graders! So while this is definitely my second year, it will in reality be another first, as I learn the curriculum content, developmental levels, and social needs of a 6-year-old kid. As I'm reading into it, it's actually a big difference between 2nd and 1st grade. Having said that, I met a few of them today and yesterday and they are so cute. They're babies. Like literally don't have enough self-control to sit in a chair. Or sit on a carpet. Or sit at all, really.

I'm also getting a new teaching partner in my classroom this year, and I am already a big fan. She has 5 years of experience at our school, so she already knows lots of the families. She truly loves the kids and has pretty strict discipline at the same time. That's what I like to see. Although I will dearly miss my co-teacher from last year (I would not have survived without her), I am feeling really good about my new one already.

I'm a strong advocate for child labor. 

Read, read, read. 

In case you want to know what we do all day. 

I'm feeling so many things on this night before the first day. I'm feeling denial, as I really can't believe that I'm in charge of a new batch of children again. I'm feeling nervousness, because the chaos, noise, and energy that happens in the primary grades of our school is kind of overwhelming when you're not used to it. I'm feeling excitement, for all the work I've already put into our classroom and the things we can accomplish together there. I'm feeling tired, as the 10+ hour work days are starting up again. I'm feeling happy, that the beginning of a new year means that I have a job doing meaningful work with one-of-a-kind children. I'm also feeling hungry, because the grocery list has not been attended to in all of the scramble to get ready. For now, I think I'll go to sleep. If you think of it, start praying for me at 8:00 am tomorrow. Then don't stop doing so until 4:00 pm. (Come to think of it, you can go ahead and repeat that daily process until June 19th.)

Stay tuned for the FIRST GRADE adventures in Room 25. Here we go! 

No Air

This year my eyes have been opened to the other side of Chicago (and, I believe, also the other side of this country) on the opposite end of what I've been seeing otherwise for my whole life. Recess is one of those times when I see it the most.

I grew up with a soccer field, a baseball diamond, four swing sets, a jungle gym, four basketball hoops, three slides, monkey bars, teeter totters (I hear you people also call them see saws), and tire forts in my playground as I was going through the primary grades a few years shy of 20 years ago. I was able to run free and tear around for two, sometimes three times during the day. There was enough room for snow forts, kick ball, world cup soccer, freeze tag, and vicious games of boys-catch-girls. If we, heaven forbid, had an indoor recess due to extreme rain or snow situations, we had a big gym with tons of equipment in which to get our energy out.

My kids rarely get outside. They get one 15-minute recess a day. Where do we go outside, do you ask? It's called the grassy pasture by my school's administration. I call it the dirt patch. It's a chunk of ground that's about 15 feet wide and 15 yards long. No slides, no monkey bars, no basketball hoops. Just dirt. A brick border wall. Random shrubs and trees that have popped up and invaded games of red rover and tag. Oh, and a nice little sewer drain right in the middle. That's in case they successfully avoided the bushes.

Not only does this patch get ridiculously gross whenever it rains, it falls in the shadow of the school most of the day so the sun can't dry it. If we are within 15 days of any rainfall, it's a muddy mess and we can't use it. It's not my administration's fault that we have little to no options, the building where our school rents has restrictions that they need to follow as well (the first two floors are offices and a day care, and a class of 23 second-graders running around doesn't allow the little kids to nap with all the noise). My principal usually is really good at using her resources as best she can, but there are some things she can't do. She can't wave a wand and give us a field. She can't make a playground appear out of nowhere. She can't ask the day care center below us to have their 2 and 3-year-olds just not nap all day. She knows it stinks and she wishes it could change too. It is just a crappy situation. 

But what, then, becomes of my kids? With virtually zero access to fresh air (our windows are sealed shut and can't be opened due to security and safety reasons) throughout the day, recess often happens inside our own room. It happens within the same four walls where we eat breakfast, give instruction, eat lunch, have art class, and learn Spanish. I almost don't even care about the equipment any more. I'm almost even happy with the dirt patch when we even get to use that. It's a far cry from soccer fields and jungle gyms and kickball, but at least it's fresh air. It's outside. They can run. They can make up games. They can be kids. 

To the right, they're throwing a ladybug funeral in the wood chips. 

But, as I've seen throughout this whole year, East Garfield Park is not an easy place to be a kid. It can even be suffocating at times. There's not much air out there, but we're gasping at any chance to take a breath. 

Stuff Students Say: March Edition

I've got to say, the fact that today is the last day of March makes me gleefully happy. Partly because it is Elizabeth VanDrunen's birthday. Partly because that means that today is my first day of SPRING BREAK 2013! Wow. I've been waiting to say that for a long, long time. Also partly because that means we are ending the third quarter. I love fresh starts, so when I return to school we have a brand new opportunity to love life, have fun, and feel successful in Room 22 with a new quarter. Here are the latest gems that my kids have uttered in the past 31 days.

Ms. Gassshhh I saw you on TV on the eyeglasses commercial with them big black glasses ayours. 

I was showing this girl a word problem in math that had to do with sharing grapes among kids.
Grapes?!! That my uncle nickname! They be callin' him grapes because he eating them all the time.

Do you got a twin? I saw her last week at Jewel. She lives in Chicago. 

After I told the class I'm going to Washington, D.C. for the first half of my spring break.
You going to be chilling with Barack Obama?
Yes. Michelle invited me for dinner to discuss the latest controversial Supreme Court cases. Wanted my input.

Do you have a daughter? When you have a daughter, can she come to my house so we can have a sleepover? Ms. Gesch you're so beautiful to have children. 

Said on Good Friday, last week, by one of my most ridiculous kids to another student who didn't know what Good Friday was.
So today Jesus died at 3. He actually died from noon to 3. Just to let you know. Don't you know that already? Y'all needa go read a Bible!

Willy Wonka is real. He made these sweet tarts of mine himself. It says on the wrapper.

Student 1: Ms. Gesch you got kids?
Student 2: No she don't, she's a teenager.
Student 1: Ms. Gesch you passed MIDDLE SCHOOL already?

My brother he broke up with a girl and then now he went back with her. Now that don't make much sense. 

Four Things

Life is swirling these days. I like the verb swirling. It reminds me of vanilla/chocolate twist cones at Dairy Queen. Yum. (Can you tell I want summer to get here, like yesterday?) But, in the tradition of this blog making me slow down and reflect for a few seconds, I'm going to put down my grading and take twenty minutes to share four things with you.

These are the cookies I made for my newspaper club last week. I've been teaching an elective every Friday for some fourth and fifth grade girls as a little something extra for our school. We practiced brainstorming article ideas, interviewing key players in the stories, and put all of our hard work into a news article on our respective topics. I figured nothing fits hard-hitting-journalism like sugar cookies with funfetti frosting as a celebration for our publishing day. We did a "paper route" around the school and delivered our finished copy of The Titan News to each classroom. Then we ate cookies and drank cherry limeade. I think I'm seriously misleading some of America's youths as to what that job must really be like. I'll bet The Tribune has significantly fewer sugar cookies. Maybe I'll write in and ask because I think it'd seriously improve employee morale. 

This is the list that somehow began to form while I absentmindedly doodled during last week's grad class. I actually really enjoy my current professor (as for some of the others...I have never missed Trinity's English department so badly...) but am just a doodler/lister at heart and this started to happen. I'm still thinking of things I'd like to add. A few of these options require more schooling, a few don't. Anyone out there have ideas that you think might work for me? ...Anyone? ...Bueller? I figure my best bet might be to score a TV show starring me as a counselor who blogs about her patients. This would result in me getting sued for violation of patient-doctor privilege, losing all of my money and possessions in the ruling, and ending up as a homeless bum. That would knock four off the list right there.  

I'm a girl who likes to brush her teeth. My friend Osvaldo works for a toothbrush company. Fancy that. Meet my new, wonderful, orange toothbrush. It looked a little too furry for my liking but it turns out to be a great tooth-cleaning experience. This was a happy day. Also, I cleaned the bathroom that Kristin and I use yesterday with so much bleach that I was starting to consider things like getting into Keeping Up With the Kardashians and other nonsense. My hands are still shriveled from the chemical burn. It makes me feel like a hard worker. And a really good Dutch person. (For you non-Dutch-people...apparently my heritage was supposed to make me enjoy doing housework and chores and being clean...I think there was a gene mutation somewhere along the way when I was born.) 

Aaannnnndddddd. Last but not least. My student K came up to me last Friday and asked if she could give me something. I said, "Of course! How sweet!" She gave this box to me. Thankfully, nothing was inside of this box. The box itself was the gift. I said, "Wow! What a nice box!" and she said, "It's my mom's, but she was going to throw it away. So I thought I'd give it to you." There's a whole lot I could infer from this situation, namely that my student thinks garbage is something that I will enjoy as a present, but I'm going to go with that whole it's the thought that counts thing and call it a night. Adios, muchachos. There are my four things. Tell me some of your things sometime. I'm sure I'll have one or two (or seven) more tomorrow. 

I Saw The Sign

Yep. Ace of Base. That just happened.

One of my favorite things about this semester has been my SPED (Special Education) 111 class, Sign Language. I take it with one of my best friends, Mel (also roommate), and we have a BLAST. She is actually a Special Ed major, whereas I took the class solely for general interest and the credits. For our final project, we had to put together a presentation of a song with signs. While we could've chosen a slower, easier song to learn, we of course had to pick one that required an entire month of practice. You be the judge of whether it paid off or not. I'm the one who chose to wear a white shirt while filming in front of a white wall, so that floating head and arms are mine.

Yes, we chose Call Me Maybe, the bubble-gum-pop song beloved by preteen girls and Bieber nation around the world. And us. We have no shame.

Finally, here is my sign video I had to make for an end of semester project. Yep. Yikes. (Oh, as you can see, I also chopped all my hair off again! That happened too. So many happenings.)  

Three Little Words

Today started like any Tuesday. I woke up after too few hours of sleep, crammed in some homework before class, ate breakfast, and got ready. I sat down in my English 375 (Advanced Writing) class four minutes before its 9:30 start. Today was a pretty normal day of class, but there was an exceptional lesson learned within the middle of it that made it memorable for me. We were talking about writing tips for our upcoming essays and how basic choices of verbs, nouns, adverbs, and adjectives strengthen our paper. We got to the slide on nouns and said that generally, the more specific the concrete noun, the better (Daisies instead of flowers, Big Mac instead of hamburger, you get it). Then we got to this:

Abstract nouns are hardest to use well. Like love. Our use of love tends to be lazy. 

Well. I know that the sentence was concerning our usage of "love" in what we write, but of course my mind started to wander. I thought that sentence perfectly describes our (or at least my) everyday life. Love is hard to use well. 

I am guilty as charged. I say "I love you Mom and Dad," in one breath and then turn around to say "Ohemgoodness I love that TV show!" in the next. I just like to love things, so I will admit my contribution to cheapening the word. But I'm not the only one guilty here, people. Now I've never said those words to someone in THE BIG WAY, but how many people have you seen say, "I LOVE YOU AHHH" all over Facebook to their significant other and then after the breakup schmear (yes I consider that to be a real word) their ex any chance they get? Or friends who say "I love you and don't know what I'd do without you!" and two months later could not care less about the well-being of that same person. Obviously hurt feelings happen and emotions run high in those situations initially, but I think with time, eventually, you have to think: 

Hey. I told that person those three little words at one point. And that wasn't just a flaky statement, that was a promise. 

I think when you say those words to someone, whether that be your boyfriend, girlfriend, parents, brother, sister, friend, roommates, teammate, or dog (haha), you are making a promise. Easy to say, hard to do. You are promising, "I'm going to always be patient with you!" and "I won't get jealous of you, won't constantly try to one-up you, and will never think of myself as more important than you!" Yikes. Those are big promises, and that's only the beginning. With those words you're also promising:

"I won't be rude to you."

"I won't expect anything back for stuff I do for you."

"I won't jump to angry conclusions with you."

"I won't keep track of stuff that you do wrong. I'll forgive you every time." 

"I'll tell you the truth and be honest with you."

"I'll protect you and your reputation when I talk to you and about you."

"I'll trust you, and trust that God has a plan for you."

"I will hope for the best for you, and always assume the best about you."

"I will always hang in there with you, and I'm always on your side." 

"I won't ever fail you. You can count on me."

Wait. So it doesn't mean "I love you, except when you mess up and I don't feel like acting like it anymore." And it doesn't mean "I love you, but when you annoy me I reserve the right to be rude and angry at your stupid habits." Shoooooot. That makes it a whole lot harder. 

But as we know, love is a hard word to use well. 

Maybe we should be more careful about using love well even though, as my professor highlighted and I've discovered, it is an arduous job. It's difficult. But I think if we can even start to chip away at living up to that list, when we stop using love in a lazy way, we start to reflect the one who loves us perfectly. And that makes it worth it. 

Because while love is a difficult noun to use well, it's the greatest noun of them all.

Ingredients For: A Successful Finals Week

I've had a pretty solid finals week these past few days. Not too dramatic, but just enough scholastic stress was involved to spice up my life a tad. (Yep, I had this song in mind when I wrote that last sentence.) Here are some insider secrets so that you too can have a successful week of final exams.

Oh this stuff. Let me tell you. Dry shampoo is a necessity in times like these. Let's be real: I'm not putting the time into my appearance this time of the semester like I usually do. The hair is NOT being washed as frequently as some could deem socially acceptable. (I don't see this as laziness; rather, it is a shampoo-fund-saving technique.) Take this miracle-worker, give your bangs and roots a spray or two, comb it out, and voila. Much better. You can now push the limit of grossness just a little further before finally showering.

This stuff is like candy. And Lord knows I love candy. Not only is Airborne Vitamin C chewable and delicious, when you eat one (or seven....oops) it gives your immune system that extra little boost you need. While I honestly can't say I feel that much of a difference, I can say it makes me feel like I'm somehow being proactive. And that's important.

Please disregard the Chicago Bears blanket in the background. It's my roommate's, and I'm ashamed that it is even getting face time on my blog. On to the important stuff: snack time. Snack time (usually circa 1 or 2 am) consists of getting creative with the stuff you have left in your cabinet. I had leftover frosting from Christmas cookies last week and generic brand graham crackers who needed a friend. I introduced the two, and they became besties. Gotta say, it, of course, reminded me of a certain Seinfeld episode. Look to the cookie, my friends. Look to the cookie. 

This is my favorite recent discovery. It is a thing of beauty. Rainymood.com. It is a website that simply gives you the gentle pitter-patter of rainfall as background noise to your study sessions. It is amazing. Now, to take this up another notch, pair this with This playlist on 8tracks.com which is full of instrumental study music, and you have yourself a VERY great backdrop for productivity. Or procrastination. You choose. Lauren (remember the punny roommate? She's the one who got her whole left side cut off. She's all right now) is to be credited with this playlist find. It's a keeper. 

So there you have it! All you need to succeed for finals! Ways to cover up your lack of hygiene, things that make you think you are healthy, completely irresponsible food choices, and some fabulous life soundtrack music. Oh. And I suppose during finals week you also need THOSE...

...your notes. Meh, I'd say they're optional. 

Bob the Great

I'm going to take this moment to recognize someone who just made my day. Trinity people will understand who this is, and if you aren't from Trinity, take this moment to learn about a fabulous person. Let me set this up for you:

I was running errands all afternoon after class, very flustered (as usual - I wish that wasn't my default setting during the weeks before exam time), and I finally got home to check my million e-mail messages, only to read that I had to drive back to Trinity's campus (I live in a house a few minutes away) to pick up a book from the English department offices before everyone leaves, usually around 4:30. It was 4:28. Whew. I had to write a large chunk of a paper today, so this was kind of important. So I got back into Remy and zipped back over to school, where I ran (yes, I ran. I was that kid who runs on campus) to get to the faculty secretary's office where the books were waiting for me. I get to the building, run upstairs, knocked on the office door, and alas...

The door was locked. Ugh.

So I'm thinking to myself, "Anna, it's totally fine, you got this...get down what you can on paper...you can get the books tomorrow morning and somehow squeeze in time to work on it before your class...yada yada yada," knowing full well that I really did kind of need them tonight. Enter the hero of the story...

Bob Rice, Dr. Bob Rice. History professor and human being extraordinaire.

I don't even have him in class this semester, but he had noticed that I had knocked on the secretary's door and heard that there was no answer from inside. He took the time to ask me what I needed, and I explained how I had books waiting for me inside the office "but that's totally fine, I'll come back tomorrow morning!" Nope, he wouldn't let me leave without getting those books. He stopped what he was doing to help me out. He knew my name right away, told me he was excited to have me in class next semester (he had already checked and remembered that I was registered for his Russian History class in the spring), and joked that he would not want to be involved with hindering a student's reading. He went back to his office, retrieved his spare key to the office, and unlocked the door for me. I got the books, thanked him obnoxiously, and he smiled and said to have a great week. Now, instead of leaving the building completely frustrated and sans books...

I am loving life. First, I have the books I needed. Secondly, and most importantly, when someone takes a moment to cut through the hustle and bustle to help a sister out, dang it, it just gives you hope for humanity.

Did I mention that Bob Rice is blind? Oh yeah, that too. He did the whole shebang (remembering my name by my voice, my schedule, the keys, the office doors, etc.) like the pro that he is. But that's not the important part. The important part is that I now learned a little lesson that the books I'm reading tonight probably won't teach me. People like Dr. Rice have taught me that people matter and that no matter how busy you are, you always have the time to be kind.

Geek Squad

Let me tell you a little bit about my English 356 class. First of all, there are only five of us in the class. Second of all, my professor is this dude who was definitely a hippie at some point, is completely disorganized, and rides his bike everywhere. And the actual name of the English 356 course is Ancient Mediterranean Literature, which is cross-listed for History credits. From all of these facts I'm pretty sure we can all agree that this group of six individuals are embracing our inner nerds. Or outer nerds.

Yesterday we went downtown Chicago to the Oriental Institute (lots of artifacts and history from the Ancient Mediterranean world) for some research and exploration. After a quick tour of the basement Co-op Bookstore across the street from the University of Chicago, our prof took us out to a place in Hyde Park called Medici on 57th for delish, authentic Chicago pizza. It was a really cool place with writing all over the walls and tables. We students all drove back to campus together afterwards and had a little trouble finding the freeway out of the city, but eventually found it after a turnaround or two. Benefit to this small side track: we got to hang out at local places like "Al's Chicken Shack" and the place with the "WE BUY GOLD" sign. It was classy.

the co-op bookstore 

our booth at Medici's

please and thanks. yum.