Student Sense

Maybe students have something of a sixth sense.

I had recently sent in my resignation and was feeling pretty sad about it. I love the students part of my job. Anything that has to do with them is what I enjoy. Mostly. Sometimes I hate that they ignore me, or don't turn in assignments, or don't come to cla--okay, that's enough. They are what makes my job worthwhile and enjoyable.

That is why I was feeling sad about leaving. I thought of all the students that I had cared about for so long and all the ones I would miss in the coming years by not being here teaching, and it made me sad.

Now, to their sixth sense. I think they can sense when I'm feeling sad, even from far away. Within a week of handing in my resignation the following went down:

One former student emailed me from across the world and reminded me that I did do something good last year and I had made a small difference in their life.

Another former senior randomly came to visit me after school one day. To say hi and catch up. Awwwww. My heart.

And then I ran into a few of my former seniors at the grocery store (mostly embarrassing) and we hugged and chatted about life recently and the haps.

And then two more seniors came to see me after school one day. At this point I stopped wondering and called Dateline to pitch my student-phenomena theory and the episode they could do on it. They did not return my call.

You see. They must know. They could sense that I didn't want to go and that I felt sad and they came to my rescue! Even though they didn't know they were rescuing me. They reminded me that I had been doing good things the last few years. It wasn't a waste and it was worth all the crap that came with it.

So to those of you who came to my sadness rescue in person and email and spirit, thank you. Thank you for reminding me that it was worth it. You made the last years worth it.


Karate Kick your Face off

And that's pretty much all this post is about.
I have serious RBF. See below:
Also, rat-tail. 

This was a selfie. Obviously I hate the mirror. 

Taking engagement photos. Blurry, but it's still clear what my face is saying.

This was a cheerful day, I promise.

Okay, maybe not. Too many to be a fluke.

Until you see me laugh, this is what you'll most likely get from me. And you probably just think I hate you. And not just you, but everything about you. Clothes, face, voice, personality. Because that's what my face says. And it says it hard.

But what lies underneath that cold, unforgiving exterior is a really funny, fun, laughter-filled, mostly cheerful person. The person that loves to laugh, and laugh loudly, is who I feel like most of the time. Even when I look like I'm about to karate kick someone's face off, I'm usually thinking of something that made me laugh recently, or plotting how to make everyone else laugh. 

Which leads me to believe that if you've never laughed with me, then you don't know me. All you know is that I am quiet (plotting jokes in my head), disinterested (trying to remember what was so funny the other day that made me {almost} pee my pants), and cold (people make me uncomfortable, okay?). 

But as you can see, parenthetically, I'm actually just trying to find a way to make you laugh and not sweat so much because I'm slightly uncomfortable. 

You may now officially change your mind about who you think I am. I am funny! I am nice! I love to laugh!  Here is some proof:

See! Laughing!


Chasing Geese!

That seems really sad that this post was just to make you think I'm not a stone cold Bey-oncĂ©, but I guess that's all it is. Cool. 

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