Janae Says...

Why, oh why do students use spiral notebook paper? Is it to make my life a pandemonium of unstackable papers?

Well, it's 12:13 and I'm going to wake up in six hours. That'll work out. I'll be tired, but six hours of sleep is better than seven to me, so I thought I might as well write this first. I graded for 10 hours yesterday. Two of those were journals and other catch-up grading and entering. The other eight were spent on the final essays I required of my students. I ran a timer, but it only let me do three minutes (no more or less), so the pacing was inconsistent. I had food near me and movies playing in the background to ease my stress. I was finally done at 9:30 PM and caught up on some homework that I had to do. Eight hours of grading, and I got three classes done. Wow. I left school at 10 PM. All of this is not to mention the TWS parts C and D, plus my lesson plans for this coming week which needed to get done.  I was very discouraged and upset because grades are due on Tuesday at 4 PM. And eight hours is a long time to finish up the rest of my papers. I was clea...

I've realized lately that I have what I deemed a "compensatory personality." It means I compensate for whoever I'm surrounded by, if I need to. I've been described by some people as shy. I've never considered myself shy. What I do notice is that I can take a front seat, or a back seat, depending on the personalities I'm near at the moment. Case in point, I was once friends with a group where two or three were very dominant and loud personalities. I was considered, "Quiet." If strong personalities dominate, I let them do it, and I don't go out of my way to be heard or known. Other case in point: I'm friends with a couple of really quiet individuals. Because they are quiet, it puts me in the front seat--making up for what they might not have or say or do. These quiet people would say that I'm very loud, passionate, funny, and opinionated. This might surprise the loud group of people who knew me. In Relief Society, I have to co...

Once in a while I say or do something, or even think something, that makes me feel really guilty. Sometimes they’re not a big deal. Other times they are. Usually it’s a big deal if it triggers something in my mind. If I have an epiphany like, “Wow I do this a lot,” or “I just did that recently, and now I’m doing it again?” that’s when it is a big deal to me. These guilt trips can last for minutes, hours, or days. The annoying thing is trying to fix the thing you did wrong to make the guilt go away. Sometimes it’s just giving an apology. But even that doesn’t completely fix the guilt, especially if the offended person is still upset with you. On other occasions, it requires a serious change of heart—a real commitment to not say or do or think that thing anymore. And since that’s more of a process, it makes the guilt kind of linger. It’s not an insta-fix sort of thing, as convenient and lovely as that might be. I don’t like these occasions. I end up crying, praying, and repen...

I spend nearly every hour concerned with my students. I spend over 6 hours with them during school, every day of the week. I stay after school helping them with assignments and letting them catch up. I spend hours grading. I spend hours and hours planning units, weeks, lesson plans, and activities. I am so anxious about how lessons will go, I even wake up dreaming I'm in the middle of teaching a class that is not going well at all. These kids are my life. I pour all of my time and energy into trying to help them learn. If I see blank faces, I call on students to pull their attention back in.  I come home from work exhausted, starving, and sore in my feet and shoulders from standing and teaching all day. What more can I do? What more can I do when I put so much time, sweat, stress, and thought into these lessons? And what can I do when I pour every bit of energy I can muster off 6 hours of sleep into teaching? What more can I do to satisfy the student who tol...

Oh man, oh man, oh man! I am so excited. Just bought two tickets for Imogen's concert on November 12th. I'll  be tired the next day for work, but oh freaking well. She'll be so worth it! On December 8th, 2006, I saw her live. It's been almost three freaking years. Way too long. This will bring back some difficult memories, but I have to go. Just have to. I can't contain myself! And this time, I'm going to bring a real camera, since obviously I was an idiot last time and used a cell phone camera. Here we go! A month away tomorrow.

I went to a sleepover on Saturday night for General Conference. Consequently and ironically, I didn't get much sleep. After morning session on Sunday, I drove to my grandma's house to shower. I laid down for a nap and conked out quickly on the bed upstairs. When I finally woke up, I realized that half of the afternoon session of Conference was already over. I hurriedly threw the blanket off of my body and turned my legs off the bed. My head intended that my body would stand up and race toward the TV. Instead, I hurriedly threw the blanket off of my body, turned my legs off the bed, stood up to walk toward the door, and fell down where I stood. Dropped. I guess my left leg fell asleep in whatever position I was sleeping in. So when I stood up, it didn't work. My leg just folded under me. I skinned my left knee on the carpet. Then grandma brought a Bandaid and some Neosporin over for my knee. The end.

Am I the only one who gets bored enough or vain enough to have photo shoots with me, myself, and I? Seriously. Such a loser. I guess not. Mac computers do have PhotoBooth...

I have so many stories that happen in a school day that bring me joy or make me laugh. I'm realizing what a weak writer I am to be able to convey the humor in these things. I'll give a couple more stories a shot, but I know I won't be able to make you laugh the way we all laughed in class. Story #1 Another mishap occurred through misreading what was on the page in our novel, Walk Two Moons . I had chosen students to read character parts again. This time I chose *Parker to read for Mr. Birkway's part. The text reads as follows: Mr. Birkway coughed. "I want to explain something," he said. "Mrs. Cadaver is my sister." "Your sister?" Phoebe said. "And her husband is dead." "I thought so," Phoebe said. "But she didn't murder him," Mr. Birkway said. "Her husband died when a drunk driver rammed into his car..." With me reading the narrated parts and Parker reading Mr. Birkway's part, this is how the ...