The Civilization Checklist

There are many things I miss out on while living in a small town. (Namely, dating and the enjoyment of everyday life.) So when I get the chance to escape the feathered bangs and camo jackets of home to head for the greener pastures of Charlotte, I have a few things I have to do in order to make sure I've made it worth my hefty 4.5 hour drive. Here goes:

1. Starbucks. Hand over the skinny mocha with soy milk and no one gets hurt. (Unless you write "Ainsley" on my cup. Then it's on.)

2. (Vegan) Sushi. Cowfish in Charlotte is like heaven, lightly fried in tempura batter and wrapped in brown rice. (Note: if this doesn't sound like heaven to you, then you be craaaazy. Did you hear me say the word "fried"?)

3. Lilly Pulitzer. No matter that the only things I can afford are coozies and iPhone cases. The newly opened store in Southpark mall is my Mecca. Pilgrimage complete until I marry an investment banker.

Yes, I entered Lilly looking like a scrub. Feel free to judge. 

4. Walking through Freedom Park. Despite the rain, there's no better place to gush at homes that belong in Southern Living while discussing boys and dieting putting an end to world hunger.

5. Making my friends do awkward things. 

Perhaps like posing on this Crate and Barrel couch while the staff breathes down my neck? No biggie. Now look natural there while I take 5000 more. From. Every. Angle.

6. Finding yet another reason to drink margaritas. I may have to pull a Carrie Bradshaw and get married...to myself. Registered in the booze section of Crate and Barrel. 

Hello, party time.

Even though it was an amazing weekend, it's seriously depressing to have to leave the most perfect city ever to head back to trailer parks and tractors. Sigh. 

On the bright side, it's much easier to deal with a 13 year old threatening to pee herself when you won't let her go to the bathroom after you've had a wonderful weekend free from work and worry. So whiz away, sister. (And next time, don't be so cavalier about using up all of your bathroom passes.)

How Much is Too Much?

I've just about had it with these sassy students, y'all. Mmmhmm. 

In what universe is it ok to whisper to your classmates "If you keep talkin' Imma bust you in yo face", be reminded by your teacher to focus, and then turn and say to her "Why you teachers always TURNIN' ON US like that? You nice to us one day and mean to us the next."

Um....excuse me? Rude to the 756th degree. Ruh-ude.

Or "Maaaan why you teachers always gotta be making us do so much WORK and stuff?"

My apologies! I forgot that this was not, in fact, an institute of learning, but merely a place for you to hang out with your friends from the hours of 7:30-3:30. My bad. Please forgive me for interrupting your social hour. Continue to talk amongst yourselves. (Did I mention this all happened within the first 10 minutes of my 1st period? Mmhmm.)

I got my mouth washed out with soap for waaaaaaay less than that when I was growing up. And you know what I did after I got in trouble for something? I stopped doing it. Novel concept, really. 

The part that sucks the most? On a teacher's salary, I can't even drown my sorrow in extra large margaritas when I have days like this. 

Is it summer yet?

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?

Stay-cation Time

Being the thoughtful, conscientious, and wise decision-maker that I am, I left my phone at work on Friday.

As in: I realized that it was still sitting on my desk only after I pulled into my driveway that's a mere 20 miles down the road. Obviously, I was not going back for it. Sigh. How would I possibly keep up with my fast-paced social life without any contact with the outside world?

Turns out, living in a small town without a cell phone is pretty much just like living in a small town with a cell phone. Who knew? (I'm guessing everyone but me.)

And actually? It's the best thing I could have done for myself. Living with two other roommates, carpooling daily, and teaching delightful middle schoolers basically means I'm never alone. This weekend, it just so happened that both of my roommates were out of town. Unless I wanted to get in the car and drive 30 minutes to a friend's house, I had no way of making plans or getting in touch with anyone.

I'm a social animal, but I also crave alone time to recharge my batteries after a long week.  It was amazing to spend a few blissful hours in total solitude. I read the stack of magazines that's been piling up on my coffee table, watched far too much HGTV (if that's even possible), and went for a 4 mile walk. I read blogs, wrote lesson plans, and watched a documentary on Netflix. The best part? I didn't answer to or interact with anyone. I did what I wanted, when I wanted, for as long as I wanted.

And it? Was awesome.

On another note, does this mean I'm becoming a hermit? Please say no.

The No-Dating To Do List

Things to Do (When You Aren't Dating and Won't For a Long Time Due to Living in the Middle of Nowhere)

1. Watch the Food Network
2. Vacuum dust bunnies out of the corners of your house
3. Watch HGTV
4. Read a magazine
5. Pick out your outfits for the week
6. Call your friends and realize you have nothing to talk about except work
7. Polish your silver jewelry
8. Look up cute dogs on Petfinder
9. Rearrange bookshelves by color of the books

Something needs to change, and soon. I'm wasting the few short years when everything is tight and perky living in between a tobacco field and a peanut processing plant. The guys around here decorate their homes with stuffed animals (as in taxidermy, not teddy bears) and think a bright orange hunting hat is a style statement.


Aaaaand I'm going to die alone. I'm getting desperate enough that I would totally go on a date with one of those weirdos that used to message me when I was trying online dating.

Sigh. What do I do?