Oscar Weekend is Here!

Another year, another batch of Oscar-nominated movies that I haven't seen because I'm too busy catching up on Real Housewives. (Sorry that I'm not sorry.)

Much like the A-listers, I'm spending my weekend getting primped and preened by a glam squad who flutters around me like flies to a picnic. (My "primped and preened" I mean I'm dying my hair with a box of L'Oreal Feria. By "glam-squad" I mean I borrowed my roommates nail polish. The same? Not really.)

Of all of the Best Picture Nominees, the only one I've seen is Midnight in Paris, so that's who I'm rooting for. It seems like the only "feel good" movie on the list. If you haven't seen it, RUN to Redbox before tomorrow night. One of the best, most original movies I've seen in a long time.

I'm also excited that Melissa McCarthy is nommed for Best Supporting Actress, and Kristen Wiig is nominated for best screenplay! I never would have guessed that the Academy would nominate such a, uh, slapstick movie, but it's nice to see some funny, talented ladies getting the credit they deserve.

Who will you be rooting for tomorrow night?

Anywhere But Here

Watching waaaay too many episodes of Selling L.A. in order to escape my life has taken its toll on me: I officially have California fever.

(Note: This could also be identified as "small town fever" in which the quaint-ness of the town you live in has worn off and you feel more like every building within the entire 3 mile radius is closing in on you, ever.so.slowly.)

After days that involve yelling at students, piles of paperwork, and wondering why so many of my coworkers still have feathered bangs circa 1985, Selling L.A. has become my refreshing escape from bad-hair reality.  I want to walk through mansions with California breezes wafting through my perfectly blown-out hair, have a job that allows me to buy 20 million dollar houses, and go to work parties that involve martinis and celebrity appearances.

Palm trees, beach walks, not having to scrape frost off of my windshield at 5:48 am....

 

A girl can dream, right?  

My mom always told me that knowing what you don't want is just as important as knowing what you do. I lived in New York and it was too big, busy, and anonymous for me. (Not to mention expensive.) I dreamed of having a yard and a big sprawling house. Now I have that, but it's nearly impossible to have work-life balance when all of your neighbors are 70 and there's not a bar for 60 miles. 

To sum it up: I miss Charlotte. It was big enough to let me know I lived in a city, but small enough that I still ran into friends at the grocery store. Friday afternoons were spent at happy hour on breezy porches and Saturday afternoons meant miles of walking through Myers Park. Wednesdays meant wine night and birthdays meant dinner with the girls. I left work at 4 pm on Friday and didn't think about it again until 8 am on Monday.

So...small town life is not for me. Charlotte, I'll see you again in a year. Until then, I'm off to Virginia Beach for the weekend to remind myself what civilization looks like.

All Work and No Play...Equals My Life Everyday

I apologize for the radio silence here on Haughty by Nature for the past three weeks. Let me describe to you a sample of the things I've been doing in lieu of blogging:

Paperwork. Lesson plans. Filing paperwork. Revising lesson plans. Explaining to parents that their child can't read. Explaining to parents that their child can read but sits there like a bump on a log and therefore has a zero in my class. More paperwork. Meetings. Scrubbing "Blood Killers" off my desk that someone had scratched there in pencil. Writing referrals. Picking people's desks up and slamming them down when they fell asleep in class. More paperwork. Meetings. Throwing T.'s journal across the room like a frisbee before and screaming at him to get to the office. Doing vocabulary drills. Wiping away a dyslexic child's tears after he made a zero on his test because he couldn't read it. Writing notes to parents saying their child works well in small groups. Talking to students in the hallways about why yelling "I'm going to effing kill you" is actually inappropriate in 100% of situations. Talking to students about how it is actually 1) rude and 2) unhelpful to tell one of their group members that they just "can't be helped" before snatching flashcards out of their hands. More paperwork. Yelling at J. to stop pouting about the 46 he got on his test because that's what happens when you don't pay attention while I'm teaching. 

And that was just yesterday.

The honeymoon stage is over, and February has been a particularly tough month with the mountain of paperwork I've had to deal with in addition to everything else. I want my life back.

I want to leave work at work and come home and relax. I want to work out. I want to keep in touch with my friends and family. I want to have time to get my haircut and have the money to get my nails done. I need a massage. I want to be able to shut my brain off so that students aren't the last thing I think about before I fall asleep and the first thing I think about upon waking up.

The other hard part about living in this town is that my only friends are teachers, which means conversations inevitably turn to work when we're together. (This doesn't help the brain shut off mentioned earlier.)

I've put in 60 hour weeks every week for the past 3 weeks. There hasn't been a day when I've spent less than 12 hours of work. Basically, I'm burnt out, I'm tired, and there's still 5 weeks until spring break.

Help? How can I recharge?