Doin' stuff.

I know... where have I been, right?  Doing stuff.  Lots and lots of stuff, and having lots and lots of moods, and I decided that I'd take a break from this little place.

I have six days of school left: Tuesday-Thursday this week, and then Monday-Wednesday next week, and the kids go home on Tuesday.  Super close, and ready for summer!

I'll get my energy back when next week roles around.  In the mean time, I decided I'd like to post this article written by Elizabeth Gilbert in O magazine.  I stumbled across it tonight, after beating myself up again for a number of things I think I should be better at, and it made me feel better.  I promise you'll hear more from me when all the school crazyness wraps up.  In the meantime, read this:

Nearly all the women I know are stressing themselves sick over the pathological fear that they simply aren't doing enough with their lives. Which is crazy—absolutely flat-out bananas—because the women I know do a lot, and they do it well. My cousin Sarah, for instance, is earning her master's degree in international relations, while simultaneously working for a nonprofit that builds playgrounds at woefully underfunded public schools. Kate is staying home and raising the two most enchanting children I've ever met—while also working on a cookbook. Donna is producing Hollywood blockbusters; Stacy is running a London bank; Polly just launched an artisanal bakery...

By all rights, every one of these clever, inventive women should be radiant with self-satisfaction. Instead, they twitch with near-constant doubt, somehow worrying that they are failing at life. Sarah worries that she should be traveling around the world instead of committing to a master's degree. Kate worries that she's wasting her education by staying home with her kids. Donna worries that she's endangering her marriage by working such long hours. Stacy worries that the capitalistic world of banking is murdering her creativity. Polly worries that her artisanal bakery might not be quite capitalistic enough. All of them worry that they need to lose 10 pounds.

It's terribly frustrating for me to witness this endless second-guessing. The problem is, I do it, too. Despite having written five books, I worry that I have not written the right kinds of books, or that perhaps I have dedicated too much of my life to writing, and have therefore neglected other aspects of my being. (Like, I could really stand to lose 10 pounds.)

So here's what I want to know: Can we lighten up a little?

As we head into this next decade, can we draft a joint resolution to drop the crazy-making expectation that we must all be perfect friends and perfect mothers and perfect workers and perfect lovers with perfect bodies who dedicate ourselves to charity and grow our own organic vegetables, at the same time that we run corporations and stand on our heads while playing the guitar with our feet?

When I look at my life and the lives of my female friends these days—with our dizzying number of opportunities and talents—I sometimes feel as though we are all mice in a giant experimental maze, scurrying around frantically, trying to find our way through. But maybe there's a good historical reason for all this overwhelming confusion. We don't have centuries of educated, autonomous female role models to imitate here (there were no women quite like us until very recently), so nobody has given us a map. As a result, we each race forth blindly into this new maze of limitless options. And the risks are steep. We make mistakes. We take sharp turns, hoping to stumble on an open path, only to bump into dead-end walls and have to back up and start all over again. We push mysterious levers, hoping to earn a reward, only to learn—whoops, that was a suffering button!

To make matters even more stressful, we constantly measure ourselves against each other's progress, which is a truly dreadful habit. My sister, Catherine, told me recently about a conversation she'd had with a sweet neighbor who—after watching Catherine spend an afternoon organizing a scavenger hunt for all the local kids—said sadly, "You're such a better mother than I will ever be." At which point, my sister grabbed her friend's hands and said, "Please. Let's not do this to each other, okay?"

No, seriously—please. Let's not.

Because it breaks my heart to know that so many amazing women are waking up at 3 o'clock in the morning and abusing themselves for not having gone to art school, or for not having learned to speak French, or for not having organized the neighborhood scavenger hunt. I fear that—if we continue this mad quest for perfection—we will all end up as stressed-out and jumpy as those stray cats who live in Dumpsters behind Chinese restaurants, forever scavenging for scraps of survival while pulling out their own hair in hypervigilant anxiety.

So let's drop it, maybe?

Let's just anticipate that we (all of us) will disappoint ourselves somehow in the decade to come. Go ahead and let it happen. Let somebody else be a better mother than you for one afternoon. Let somebody else go to art school. Let somebody else have a happy marriage, while you foolishly pick the wrong guy. (Hell, I've done it; it's survivable.) While you're at it, take the wrong job. Move to the wrong city. Lose your temper in front of the boss, quit training for that marathon, wolf down a truckload of cupcakes the day after you start your diet. Blow it all catastrophically, in fact, and then start over with good cheer. This is what we all must learn to do, for this is how maps get charted—by taking wrong turns that lead to surprising passageways that open into spectacularly unexpected new worlds. So just march on. Future generations will thank you—trust me—for showing the way, for beating brave new footpaths out of wonky old mistakes.

Fall flat on your face if you must, but please, for the sake of us all, do not stop.

Map your own life.

Elizabeth Gilbert is the author of Eat, Pray, Love and Committed (both Viking). 

This article was taken from here.

Hope it made you chill out.  It helped me.

Peace,

Kelly

Bright.

This past weekend I started painting the walls of my house!  When I moved in they were very neutral colors, and I definitely wanted to brighten the whole place up.

I'm really not afraid of color... in fact, I crave it.  You'll be able to tell in the before & after pictures below.

Living Room BEFORE: 

Living Room AFTER:

Dining Room BEFORE:

Dining Room AFTER (Haven't removed the tape yet):

Kitchen BEFORE:

Kitchen AFTER (not fully painted yet):

Also, here are what my floors look like now, close up:

Before this, they were all scratched up.  I sanded them down and then stained them.

And just to make you jealous (tee-hee-hee) here is a picture I took of my house when the daffodils popped up:

Still loving it!!!

Peace,

Kelly

My wordle.

According to Wordle, this is a graphic representation of the common words that appear in my blog (more common = bigger size):

I love that some of the biggest words on the page are get, want, feel, think, and know.  They are all verbs that I use often, probably because, pretty much... I want to be all-knowing and in control, all the time.

I want to GET, as in understand, my world completely.  I know this is pretty much impossible, but I still set it as an unrealistic goal.

I WANT constantly.  I want to be happy, I want to understand, I want to be wanted, I want-I want-I want.  I guess I didn't realize I was so needy.

I THINK and FEEL constantly.  My inner thoughts are the driving force behind who I am and how I act.

And of course, I also want to KNOW everything.  And this is another unrealistic goal of mine.

It's interesting to see a visual of my reflections.  I think, overall, it's telling me that I'm spending too much time thinking about the things I want for my future (what I want, what I'll get, what I think and feel about it, what I'll know) instead of focusing on the present.

Hopefully, if I work on it, in a year from now this jumble of words will be more active and positive.  We'll see.

Peace,

Kelly

Testing.

Tomorrow my students take the second portion of the ISTEP.  If you're not from Indiana, you're probably not familiar with the term.  ISTEP = Indiana Statewide Testing for Educational Progress.  In other words, BLEEEEGH (puke noise).

Middle school students take this test, along with practice "scrimmage" quizzes all through the year to prep for the test.  Last week, they also took an SRI (Scholastic Reading Inventory) test which measures their reading improvement.  When they get to high school, they will take quarterly "benchmark" tests that also measure their progress with the standards each quarter, along with the GQE (Graduation Qualifying Exam) and of course the SAT and ACT when applying to college.  Also, high school students who stay in our after school program have to take a TABE test (Test of Adult Basic Education) at the beginning, middle, and end of the year.

Aaaaaah!  Can you imagine?  I agree that some sort of standardized testing is the easiest way to measure the progress of a large amount of people quickly and efficiently.  However, I cannot help but sympathize with some of my students when they make comments about feeling more like statistics or numbers than people.  The last thing I want is for them to leave school feeling like they were just sent through some sort of factory assembly line.

And that's why my goal as a teacher is to not just teach facts, but teach my students how to think for themselves and use their intelligence as sources of power and influence in their lives.  I want them to know that it is wonderful to be curious and wonderful to ask questions.  I want them to recognize their potential by discovering new perspectives and challenging their original views of the world.  I want them to realize the excitement that can come as a result of learning new information.  I want learning to be FUN. 

Yes, I have a ways to go.  I'm only in my second year of teaching, and I already can see how passionate teachers can burn out fast due to the many challenges we face every day.  In schools like mine, many students don't know how to be consistent and dedicated because they've never seen an adult who fits those descriptions.  Some don't know that education is a reward because they come from a line of family members who has never seen it that way.  It's tough, and in my second year I've already had to remind myself that it's going to always be difficult, but that it's worth it if I can even get a few students to find something exciting in what I teach them.

I hope that most of the teachers in our country feel this way.  There is a lot of pressure put on us to show good results on these tests, and sometimes the pressure gets so fierce that we forget why we became teachers in the first place.  Yes, it's important for them to know this information, but we also have to remember that we are shaping the minds of growing human beings, and that takes more than the memorization of facts.  

I guess what I'm saying is that I hope educators remember that although there is standardized testing which measures all our students on the same plane, each individual child needs to be given attention and taught how to see his or herself as one person with a lot of brain power.  

Does this make sense?

I didn't realize this would turn into such a preachy post, but I think I stepped up on a pedestal at some point without realizing it.  I want to clarify that I am a new teacher, still learning.  I am not nearly perfect, and there are many, many improvements to make before I become the teacher I want to be.  But these are the foundations for why I do what I do, and I hope many people in my position feel the same way.

Thanks for listening.

Peace,

Kelly

Guffaw.

I love the word "guffaw."  I haven't used it in awhile, but right now I'm doing a unit on comedy with my 8th grade English class, and it came up.  I love it.  Every time I say it or write it, I can't help but think of Goofy.

And as fate would have it, the very first video that popped up tonight when I went to search for an example of Goofy's laughter was actually an old short cartoon called "Teachers Are People."

How hilariously coincidental.  Later on in this post I was planning on talking about how I need to bring more humor into everything, especially into my job.  I find myself taking it way too seriously, even when we are studying comedy!  I get so wrapped up in the plans and the deadlines that I forget that school also needs to be enjoyed.

This clip made me laugh, and also made me realize that I am definitely not the only teacher in history to feel completely frazzled and helpless on certain days.  This clip in particular is a very accurate summary of my first year experience with teaching:




Oh Teacher Goofy, you are not alone.  I think this might be a perfect clip to show to my students so I can illustrate how humor is often created out of the everyday problems we experience in our lives.  Think they'd get it?  (By the way, I also love how much they used to get away with in cartoons: grenades, weapons in the pockets of children, kids blowing up schools... you wouldn't see that today.  Old cartoons are the best.)

Anyhoo, as a part of the unit, my students have been narrowing down what they consider to be their own sense of humor.  I've decided I'm going to do that, too.  So, in a much more uplifting post compared to my recent ones, here is a list of things that make me laugh:

• Old cartoons and Goofy. - See above.
• The faces people make at themselves in mirrors when they think no one is looking. - Dyke sucks in his cheeks and then denies that he was doing it.  I catch him every time.
• Jazz hands in unfitting situations. - I have a group of kids I hang out with after school, and now every time we greet each other and say goodbye we fade away from each other with jazz hands (also known as "spirit fingers").  It's pretty random and great.
• Funny words. - Examples: guffaw, poot, burp, pickle loaf.
• Retro pictures. - I was a particularly fat, large-headed child who always looked confused.  Note the close-up Easter picture below:

(If ANYONE told my mom, "Oh, your baby is so cute!" I'm sure they were thinking something different.  

I look like I'm going to eat someone.)

• Embarrassing moments - These of course are always more humorous after the fact...like, when a boy accidently pulled down my stirrup leggings in 3rd grade when he was trying to get past me on the slide.  DON'T MESS WITH THE STIRRUP LEGGINGS.  Those things were fierce.  I think he realized his mistake when he was suddenly facing my bare ass.
• Laughter out of complete desperation - This is the best type of laughter.  It's when you are so exhausted and out of energy that all you can do is throw your hands in the air and let the ridiculousness of it all take over.  In 8th grade, my friend Ryan and I had just finished writing the graduation speech when something happened and the entire thing was deleted.  We were at school late working on it, and my mom was upstairs in her classroom doing paperwork.  We were so helpless at that point that we went crazy and started acting out a scary movie in the hallways, and then running outside to the parking lot and jumping around in a downpour of rain.  All while laughing of course.  THAT was the best.

I've experienced a lot of laughter in my life, and I experience a little more every day.  I'm very lucky.  I'll have to add more to this list later because it was a lot of fun.  Until then, adios.

By the way, what the hell is Goofy supposed to be anyway?

Peace,

Kelly

Weekend update.

I've successfully sanded the floors of my house and today I am hoping to stain them!  I gave myself three weekends to do it, and this is the second, so I'm way ahead of schedule.  If I get all the staining done today, I bet I can seal it all up tomorrow.  So.. if any of you have doubted whether or not you could pull off a project like this, know you can, because I was able to.  I am NOT very handy, but this was very manageable.

I forgot to take my camera with me to get some before shots, but I have a few past pictures I took when I first was looking at the house.  I'll post them up here soon so you can see what it was pre-sand, after being sanded, and then the completed process.

I've scheduled a "painting party" on May 1st and have invited any friends who like home projects.  I'm hoping to have all the paint picked out by then, and it will be fun to blast music in the house, provide snacks and drinks, and get my house bright and colorful.

I still don't think it has fully hit me that I OWN this house.  I keep thinking it will, but until I move my bed in and sleep there the first night, not sure if it's going to feel like mine.

Other updates...

My boyfriend is going to chef school!  He'll be attending the Art Institute of Indianapolis, classes start in late summer.  I know this is going to be a perfect fit for him, and a perfect fit for me because I LOVE FOOD.  I bet it will be a battle being a vegetarian though, because I'm sure he'll learn all about the "proteins" of dishes and a lot will probably involve meat of some kind.  I'm going to rely on him to make creative alternatives for me so I can try them as he learns his skills.

It sounds like a really great program because they apply everything directly to the chef career and restaurant management.  The math and English classes all gear towards how you would use those skills as a chef.  We toured the building and it's very cool, and they even have a student-run restaurant where they can practice their skills.

Other updates...

So I went to someone about my anxiety/depression issues.  Last year I hit some really low points and was crying practically every day, so I ended up being recommended for Lexapro.  I've always been reluctant about medicating myself, but like I said in an earlier post, there is no reason why I shouldn't give these problems as much weight and importance as any other physical ailment.  I am pro-medication if someone reaches a point in their life when everything is negatively affected by their thought processes, and every day activities become unmanageable and stressful.  That was the point I was at.  In the mornings, driving to school, my chest would physically hurt from the stress I was feeling and I would feel my heart pounding through my chest.  It was awful.

So, yes, I took Lexapro, and it helped me immensely.  In general, everything in my life felt more manageable.  Without it, something bad would happen and I would immediately get into a mindset of thinking about every other things going wrong in my life.  But on the medicine, I didn't overthink the issue and was more rational.  I was able to step back and say, "Okay, that wasn't the best, but so what."  I didn't take things so personally and in general, was more carefree.  I felt more like myself.

You are probably wondering why I stopped.  Well, after the first school year ended, and summer came, I did want to see if I'd be okay if I wasn't in the daily work environment.  As much as I wanted to give in to the idea of taking a pill to change my brain, I still didn't want to have to rely on something to do that for me.  I'm stubborn, so I stopped taking it.  Also, as much as it made me feel better, it wasn't helping my relationship.  They say some people get the side effect of being less touchy-feely, and in general being less interested in the physical aspects of a relationship.  I was, and it was frustrating.

So I stopped taking it.  I weened off of it, and for awhile I think I was okay.  But after awhile, I noticed the things coming out of my mouth were more negative than positive.  I noticed myself whining more, and being more defensive.  Dyke and I fought more, and some of it was the fact that I took things way too personally, and also held things in and then they'd explode out of me and make a big mess.  I wanted to deny it, I kept telling myself I was strong enough to control my thought processes and change my emotions.  But I eventually realized that it was no longer negatively affecting me, but affecting the people I cared about.  I didn't want that to happen.

But I didn't want to go the same route I'd taken before, because of the side effects.  Recently, a family member of mine went in and found out they had the characteristics of Adult ADD.  My dad heard about it and told me he thought I should get assessed.  He says he's seen me have the characteristics all my life, through my constant forgetting, the continuous rush I have in doing anything in front of me, the procrastination, and the anxiety I get when all of it becomes too much.

I went in and talked to someone, and when I go through a list like that, and when I actually talk about how I live, it really does sound exhausting.  He asked me if I was able to relax, and really, not very often.  Yes, I take breaks, and yes, I sit on my arse and do nothing, but my mind is never at rest, even when I'm doing that.  I can only relax if there is absolutely nothing on my to do list, which is rare.  I always feel guilty about it.  He said, "That must be exhausting."  It is.

I played Devil's Advocate when I was in his office, and asked him, "Well, how can I be super efficient at school, and be successful and organized and get things done... but when I get home, nothing is organized and I get overwhelmed with the daily tasks outside of my job?"  He said it's because of pressure and motivation.  I'm always feeling the pressure to get things done at work, I've always got that adrenaline pumping and there is always a task to do that very moment.  At home, that rush is not the same.  Keeping up with the mundane tasks is never in-the-moment necessity, and I completely falter when it comes to doing something when it's not of immediate importance.

Again, I'll be Devil's Advocate.  I totally understand why there a number of people reading this that think, well, Kelly, I'm like that too.  No one likes the mundane tasks, and everyone feels pressure at work.  I get grumpy and take it out on people too, we all do that.  And yes, I understand that.  But again, if it gets to a point where it is holding you back from living your life, and holding you back from feeling like the YOU you know you could be if you only felt better, then I've decided I support medical treatment.

The family member who told me about the Adult ADD told me the other day over breakfast, "Kelly, ever since I got treated for this I haven't been depressed a single moment."  Because the medication calms him down, he's able to focus more and complete things without that need for the rush.  Because he's able to complete things more, he's less stressed.  Because he's less stressed, he's less depressed.  The connection with Adult ADD and depression is clear, because anxiety is a catalyst for depression.

So I'm trying an Adult ADD treatment: Adderall.  It's a small dose, and I'm going to see how it goes.  They say that you can tell if it's working right if you feel normal, and not jittery or rushed to do things.  Those who do not actually have ADD symptoms will get jittery because it's an overdose of amphetamine.  If it works right, I should feel more calm and myself than anything.  If I feel out of my element, and off, I'll know it's not for me.

I'll keep you updated on how it goes.

Also, I know there are some of you who may still be reluctant about the idea of medication... seeing it as the "easy way out" and an unnatural, inorganic option.  And part of me will always feel that way I think, but I think most of it is stubbornness.  I need to admit that I need outside help... and I do.  Really, it's about individual choice.  So I ask that you support me through this process and not condemn me for relying on something other than myself to make my life more enjoyable and manageable.

Thanks for reading this ginormous long email.  Love you all!

Peace,

Kelly

Blog Swap!

Hey everyone.  I'm Nic, from The Music Plays You.  20 Something Bloggers has put on a blog swap, and I was the one chosen to swap with Kelly.  The theme for this swap was "The best part about being a blogger..."

... well, for me, I'd have to say that my favorite part is the FREEDOM.

I've been writing for a good portion of my life, and gave it up almost completely when I entered college.  Sure, I'd have the occasional paper to do, but is that really "writing" to many of us?  I'd argue no, personally.

To me, true writing isn't something that has to be thought about, but rather just flows from the creative centers in our mind straight through our fingers, either onto paper or the keyboards that we type on.

This goes along almost perfectly with what Kelly submitted for my blog.  She talked about the release that bloggers experience, the rush and the high that comes with being able to fully express oneself at last.  Sure, you could write many of those things into a journal and get the same sort of satisfaction, but does that really get you anywhere?  With blogging, you suddenly have the same freedoms to write whatever you want, but now you're able to share that with others and allow them to offer their own insights on what you've been thinking.

Last night, I was extremely frustrated because I had blogger's block.  I couldn't think of anything to write about!  For some reason, I'd gotten it wrapped around my head that my blog had turned into a self-help meets inspirational meets get-things-done blog, and without a clear and concise topic, writing was worthless.

And then I thought... why would I do that to myself?  Why would I box myself in to a pattern in a personal blog like this, and make everything the same?  Seriously, if I keep writing all these inspirational/self-help posts, I'm just going to quit and write a book.

So I did what I do best.  I cleared the page, I put on some ambient music, and I wrote.  Not about anything in particular (well, that's not true... I had a pretty good idea for a topic), just writing from the heart and the creative centers of my brain.

And I ended up with this.

That post had absolutely no point.  It had no direction, until about halfway through when I decided running into a door would be funny.  That post was entirely done on a whim, from the seat of my pants.

And it's probably one of the most exhilarating things I've ever done.

Don't get stuck in a rut.  Don't write about just what everyone expects (or tells) you to write about.  It's your blog, right?  You're not getting paid to do it?  They're not paying to read it?  Then go nuts.

Your blog is your canvas.  You are Picasso.  Go write me some abstract stuff.

-N