Sometimes life just throws in those ironic little twists that I can't help but laugh. Tonight brought one of those twists.
I'm not too sure how common this knowledge is, so I'll just throw it out there: Over the past few years, I've struggled, and struggled deeply, with my testimony. The hows and the whys are too complex to bother typing out here, but up until my last few months in Oregon, I hadn't been to church regularly in over two years. And to apply the term "regularly" to my current level attendance would be a VERY liberal interpretation of the term. For the past year or so, however, I've definitely been doing a lot more thinking, pondering, and attending. The one glaring omission from that list above, obviously, is prayer. For many, many reasons, this is the most difficult thing for me to do.
Tonight I was in my kitchen making orzo and watching MTV's "16 and Pregnant" (yeah, I love trashy reality TV shows. That's a moral failing for another post) when there was a knock on the door and who should appear: the missionaries and a brother from the ward.
Fast forward two and a half hours, and they're leaving me after one gut-wrenching conversation having extracted a major, major promise from me: to vocally pray this evening. Once I give my word to someone I cannot go back on it. Trust and promises are a big thing for me. Even before they left though I was feeling stressed about the prospect of praying. I can't explain it, but I was filled with so many conflicting emotions I felt like I was being torn apart, literally. The only place I could think of to go was the temple. So I did.
By the time I got to the temple it was dark out and the gates around the ground were locked. I started wandering around the back of the temple, looking for a place to pray. But it was dark. And the grass was wet. And I was hungry because I never got around to eating the orzo. And I still hadn't showered after returning from a camping trip earlier in the evening so I was beyond gross. And... I was on my umpteenth mental excuse when I found myself face first on the ground, with that wet grass sticking to my greasy hair and my growling stomach left somewhere in the air above my head after my sudden bodily descent.
Yes, brothers and sisters, it is true: pride goeth before the fall. And in my case, my pride has reached such heights of grandeur that the Lord has seen fit to lower me. Literally. By placing holes (deep holes! More like trenches! or ditches!) in my path. Not paying attention in the dark, I stepped straight into some mid-calf hole. I was half way between laughing and crying when I noticed I had landed directly on my knees, in front of the portion of the temple engraved "Holiness to the Lord, the House of the Lord."
Now did God really plant that hole in my path? Maybe not, but I decided to take advantage of my position and go ahead and pray. The heavens did not part, my doubts were not confounded in one fell swoop, but it definitely stirred a few thoughts and emotions that have been missing. I will not wait so long to do this again. My ankle hurts too much for that.
Friday, August 6, 2010
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Blueberry Banana Bread
Last week I found myself with a pile of brown bananas (no central air + high 90s = accelerated decomp of fresh produce on the counter), a flat of blueberries from Costco, and a hankering for an old favorite: banana bread. Since the spring I've really tried to devote myself to healthy eating as I'm getting a prediabetic diagnosis under control. Instead of going for the old standby bread recipe with tons of butter and sugar, I toyed around with some healthier options. And what fantastic results! The basis of the banana bread is Martha Stewart's Blueberry Banana Muffins, and I made a few very small adjustments ( fresh v. frozen fruit, some wheat germ, yogurt with the butter). I highly suggest trying it... I've got a second loaf in the oven right now (I've resorted to turning on the oven only after 10:00PM) to eat for snacks this week and cannot wait for it to come out. I used three bowls to prepare it, so I broke the recipe down into bowls.
Bowl 1: Beat
1/4 c. butter
1/8 c. plain yogurt
1/3 c. granulated sugar
1/3 c. packed brown sugar
After these ingredients are light and fluffy, add in two eggs. Crack the eggs one at a time and beat well after each addition.
Bowl 2: Whisk
1 c. flour, spooned and leveled
3/4 c. whole wheat flour, spooned and leveled
1/4 c. wheat germ
1 tsp. baking soda
1/2 tsp. salt
Bowl 3: Mash!
2-3 over ripe medium bananas (you'll want about 3/4 c)
1 tsp. vanilla
My kitchen aid mixer is my prized possession, and I got bowl number one spinning and then let the mixer do the work while I worked on bowls 2 and 3. Once the butter and sugar and eggs are good and fluffy, you'll add bowls 2 and 3 to bowl one. Alternate the additions, and begin and end with the flour mixture.
Finally, toss in some blueberries. The original recipe called for 1 c. frozen berries, but I've used fresh berries both times. I also never measure the berries, just toss them until it looks perfectly tasty.
The original recipe is for muffins, but I've had no problems putting the batter in a loaf pan. My oven has a mind of its own, so I just keep an eye on the loaf until I can stick a toothpick in and it comes out clean, about 15-20 minutes for me.
PS: I kept trying to add a picture, but it wouldn't upload for some reason. Hmmmm... help?
Bowl 1: Beat
1/4 c. butter
1/8 c. plain yogurt
1/3 c. granulated sugar
1/3 c. packed brown sugar
After these ingredients are light and fluffy, add in two eggs. Crack the eggs one at a time and beat well after each addition.
Bowl 2: Whisk
1 c. flour, spooned and leveled
3/4 c. whole wheat flour, spooned and leveled
1/4 c. wheat germ
1 tsp. baking soda
1/2 tsp. salt
Bowl 3: Mash!
2-3 over ripe medium bananas (you'll want about 3/4 c)
1 tsp. vanilla
My kitchen aid mixer is my prized possession, and I got bowl number one spinning and then let the mixer do the work while I worked on bowls 2 and 3. Once the butter and sugar and eggs are good and fluffy, you'll add bowls 2 and 3 to bowl one. Alternate the additions, and begin and end with the flour mixture.
Finally, toss in some blueberries. The original recipe called for 1 c. frozen berries, but I've used fresh berries both times. I also never measure the berries, just toss them until it looks perfectly tasty.
The original recipe is for muffins, but I've had no problems putting the batter in a loaf pan. My oven has a mind of its own, so I just keep an eye on the loaf until I can stick a toothpick in and it comes out clean, about 15-20 minutes for me.
PS: I kept trying to add a picture, but it wouldn't upload for some reason. Hmmmm... help?
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
The Classics
One of Sean's favorite ways to poke fun at me is to call me an literary snob. We both read "The Kite Runner" from Khaled Hosseini waaaaaay back in undergrad and when it came up at dinner one night I said something to the effect of its foreshadowing crossed the lines from hinting to clobbering, and that the ironic twists were no longer tantalizing but gut-wrenching. I'm not one to mince words. I finished the tirade by stating it had clearly been written for the masses. He's followed that up by never letting me live my "nose in the air" moment down. Ah, well...
So imagine his shock and surprise that I, for one, LOVE the Twilight series. Talk about written for the masses, and not just any masses, but the 13-17 year old masses. I know I've mentioned its downfalls before, but I can't help it... they just suck me in. I own all four books, have read them each several times now, have already seen Eclipse. Twice. (A few of my students work at the local movie theater and one young man took my ticket at both showings. His response: "Seriously, Shoe? You seemed smarter than that.") I've downloaded all three soundtracks. I'm mostly team Jacob-- and I am SO thankful Taylor Lautner is finally 18 so I feel a little less like a pedophile as I ogle him.
All of my Twilight-lovin' aside, however, I had a disturbing thought yesterday:
Jane Austen is often touted as THE author of the 19th century, as a beacon for the advent of the woman writer. After all, she wrote under her own name in a time when women were best seen but not heard (or read). But when Jane Austen was writing, she was perhaps the Danielle Steele of her era. Ok... that's a bit harsh... maybe the Jodi Piccoult of her time. A fantastic author, yes, but again-- no contender for the Booker here. She entertains us. That's why we remember her now.
But what about William Shakespeare? The Bard of Avon. The hero of hopeless romantics everywhere, the plague of high school English students. We collectively revere him now as the best playwright of all time, but hunt through that iambic pentameter and 16th century English, and you've got smut! Attending The Globe was the equivalent of turning on a sitcom. He wrote to please the masses, literally. The nobility in the box seats, the peasants in the penny pit, he had to entertain them all. And entertain them he did. This is why we remember him now.
Here's where I'm going with this-- what if in another century or two, generations of teenagers and college students pour over the Twilight series. They'll complete a literary analysis of biblical allusions (particularly from the LDS standing, these continually surprise me); pull apart the tenuous ties holding Bella to both Edward and Jacob; and wonder-- what elements of "human" nature transcend all beings? Who do the Volturi, with their power hungry ways, truly satirize? What is the author trying to tell us? "Meyer" will become as common as "Hemingway" or "Byron".
Not to knock ol' Stephenie, but this makes me a little worried. Of course, it won't stop me from re-reading Breaking Dawn by the pool today. Ahhhhhh, summer.
So imagine his shock and surprise that I, for one, LOVE the Twilight series. Talk about written for the masses, and not just any masses, but the 13-17 year old masses. I know I've mentioned its downfalls before, but I can't help it... they just suck me in. I own all four books, have read them each several times now, have already seen Eclipse. Twice. (A few of my students work at the local movie theater and one young man took my ticket at both showings. His response: "Seriously, Shoe? You seemed smarter than that.") I've downloaded all three soundtracks. I'm mostly team Jacob-- and I am SO thankful Taylor Lautner is finally 18 so I feel a little less like a pedophile as I ogle him.
All of my Twilight-lovin' aside, however, I had a disturbing thought yesterday:
Jane Austen is often touted as THE author of the 19th century, as a beacon for the advent of the woman writer. After all, she wrote under her own name in a time when women were best seen but not heard (or read). But when Jane Austen was writing, she was perhaps the Danielle Steele of her era. Ok... that's a bit harsh... maybe the Jodi Piccoult of her time. A fantastic author, yes, but again-- no contender for the Booker here. She entertains us. That's why we remember her now.
But what about William Shakespeare? The Bard of Avon. The hero of hopeless romantics everywhere, the plague of high school English students. We collectively revere him now as the best playwright of all time, but hunt through that iambic pentameter and 16th century English, and you've got smut! Attending The Globe was the equivalent of turning on a sitcom. He wrote to please the masses, literally. The nobility in the box seats, the peasants in the penny pit, he had to entertain them all. And entertain them he did. This is why we remember him now.
Here's where I'm going with this-- what if in another century or two, generations of teenagers and college students pour over the Twilight series. They'll complete a literary analysis of biblical allusions (particularly from the LDS standing, these continually surprise me); pull apart the tenuous ties holding Bella to both Edward and Jacob; and wonder-- what elements of "human" nature transcend all beings? Who do the Volturi, with their power hungry ways, truly satirize? What is the author trying to tell us? "Meyer" will become as common as "Hemingway" or "Byron".
Not to knock ol' Stephenie, but this makes me a little worried. Of course, it won't stop me from re-reading Breaking Dawn by the pool today. Ahhhhhh, summer.
Sunday, January 10, 2010
Suggestions??
So, it's been awhile. And yet looking back over the last 3+ months I can't help but think I didn't really miss much that was worth blogging about. My days and weeks are fairly routine with work, and often times I feel like I'm on the wash-rinse-repeat cycle of lesson planning, teaching, grading. Don't get me wrong-- I am loving it. I truly believe that education is the one gift that you can give to any person at any time and regardless of how much or how little they have, it will infinitely enrich their lives. Some days I have to chant that over and over to get to the final bell, but I now found it to be truer than ever.
Reflecting on my own personal education, I realize how incredibly blessed I am to have received a top-notch education. In five years, I was able to earn two BAs and a MA under the guidance of phenomenal professor who shaped me intellectually, mentally, and spiritually. But unfortunately, it's recently come to my attention (now that the routine and wash-rinse-repeat has given me the time to slow down and look around) that each one of those pieces of paper brought with them about 15 pounds that settled right on the hips. Eek.
A few weeks before Christmas, I realized that I had reached the point where I wasn't staying up until midnight grading and planning every night but knew how to balance my time (usually). So instead of spending my usual hour or two blog-stalking or compulsively checking the Facebook news feed I joined the gym near my house and am now working out between 5 and 6 days a week. That number fell by about 50% during the holidays, but now I am back in the swing of things. It amazes me how much I am LOVING working out, and really look forward to getting into the gym. I do need some help though: my workout music selection seems lackluster and I've come dangerously close to flying off the back of the treadmill several times while fiddling with my iPod in an attempt to find something I could groove to for a few miles. So, to all of you (any of you? someone?) out there, can you give me any suggestions for some good work out music??
Reflecting on my own personal education, I realize how incredibly blessed I am to have received a top-notch education. In five years, I was able to earn two BAs and a MA under the guidance of phenomenal professor who shaped me intellectually, mentally, and spiritually. But unfortunately, it's recently come to my attention (now that the routine and wash-rinse-repeat has given me the time to slow down and look around) that each one of those pieces of paper brought with them about 15 pounds that settled right on the hips. Eek.
A few weeks before Christmas, I realized that I had reached the point where I wasn't staying up until midnight grading and planning every night but knew how to balance my time (usually). So instead of spending my usual hour or two blog-stalking or compulsively checking the Facebook news feed I joined the gym near my house and am now working out between 5 and 6 days a week. That number fell by about 50% during the holidays, but now I am back in the swing of things. It amazes me how much I am LOVING working out, and really look forward to getting into the gym. I do need some help though: my workout music selection seems lackluster and I've come dangerously close to flying off the back of the treadmill several times while fiddling with my iPod in an attempt to find something I could groove to for a few miles. So, to all of you (any of you? someone?) out there, can you give me any suggestions for some good work out music??
Friday, October 2, 2009
Really??
I went to see Zombieland land tonight. Gratuitous violence aside, it was a great movie-- witty dialogue, believable characters (at least believable for a world run amok by mad zombie disease) and an under current of a worthwhile theme: loyalty and devotion builds the strength to overcome life's greatest challenges. Blood-vomiting cannibals included. I also came out with a new motivation for cardio exercise.
What I DID NOT appreciate about my Zombieland experience, however, was the fact that I was carded by the acne afflicted, angsty youth taking tickets on the way in. I look under 17?? Really??
A second really for the evening:
The "New Moon" trailer was one of the few shown before the feature show this evening. I saw "Twilight" first, and then read the book. I've been accused of literary snobbery before, but I don't think I'm alone in saying that Stephenie Meyer will be no contender for the Booker. And I'll admit it-- it's a great guilty pleasure. Furthermore as an English teacher, I feel obligated to read what my students are reading. So after the movie, I bought the book New Moon to read between now and the next movie.
One of my biggest problems with Meyer's book (besides the ridiculous repetitiveness of her descriptors) is that Bella Swan is quite possibly the WORST role model for young girls. At the age of 17 she spends her time cleaning up after her bachelor father (who apparently did nothing for himself in the what, 12 years she lived with her mother) and developing an obsessive relationship with a "boy" who is a little too "protective" (read: controlling and manipulative).
While waiting to check out, I flipped the book open to a random page. And I quote: "I spent the morning cleaning the house waiting for Jacob to call. When the phone rang, I dropped the toilet brush and ran downstairs."
Really, Bella, REALLY?? I'll take snooty Hermione any day.
I'll let you know when I finish the series.
What I DID NOT appreciate about my Zombieland experience, however, was the fact that I was carded by the acne afflicted, angsty youth taking tickets on the way in. I look under 17?? Really??
A second really for the evening:
The "New Moon" trailer was one of the few shown before the feature show this evening. I saw "Twilight" first, and then read the book. I've been accused of literary snobbery before, but I don't think I'm alone in saying that Stephenie Meyer will be no contender for the Booker. And I'll admit it-- it's a great guilty pleasure. Furthermore as an English teacher, I feel obligated to read what my students are reading. So after the movie, I bought the book New Moon to read between now and the next movie.
One of my biggest problems with Meyer's book (besides the ridiculous repetitiveness of her descriptors) is that Bella Swan is quite possibly the WORST role model for young girls. At the age of 17 she spends her time cleaning up after her bachelor father (who apparently did nothing for himself in the what, 12 years she lived with her mother) and developing an obsessive relationship with a "boy" who is a little too "protective" (read: controlling and manipulative).
While waiting to check out, I flipped the book open to a random page. And I quote: "I spent the morning cleaning the house waiting for Jacob to call. When the phone rang, I dropped the toilet brush and ran downstairs."
Really, Bella, REALLY?? I'll take snooty Hermione any day.
I'll let you know when I finish the series.
Monday, September 14, 2009
Sunnuva...
Yeah, I almost swore in class today. I try (really hard) to stop up my inherited potty mouth in the classroom especially, but sometimes... it almost slips. Almost. I drink water like a camel and usually when a student requests to get a drink during class, he/she has to fill up my water bottle for me. It just so happened that today I was using a water bottle with a particularly tricky lid. I paused during lecture to let them copy down some information, I took a big pull off of said bottle... and the cap fell off, and the water gushed down my shirt. Luckily, I was wearing the quintessential teacher outfit -- pencil skirt, white camisole, dark colored cardigan. As most of my students were focused on their paper at the moment, I didn't say a word about the spill, just buttoned up my cardigan and continued to talk without missing a beat. The few who noticed I think were too shocked to say anything. Wet T-shirt contest postponed till Homecoming.
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Three Days In
I walked in the door from school this afternoon, kicked off my shoes immediately, and made a little snack: I counted out 30 bittersweet chocolate chips, measured two tablespoons of Adam's smooth peanut butter, and nuked the two of them together in the microwave until it was a bowl of ooey, gooey bliss. I told myself that sticking to the suggested serving size meant it wasn't as gluttonous as it sounds... right? Right? My college roommates can attest that this is a step up from the stressful days of undergrad when I was often found at odd hours, incoherent from sleep deprivation, pouring hershey's syrup into my mouth already crammed full with Jiff.
So maybe I'm feeling a little stressed. I've got 130 students (give or take-- my class list still changes daily) and I'm scrambling to find chairs and books for everybody, not to mention prepare to teach them all-- but I really, really love it. I've got one squirrely class that was giving me guff the first two days (Sean made fun of me all afternoon for using the word 'guff'. He wanted to know if I am 80 and asked if those darn boys were wearing short pants again) but we had a breakthrough today and I think I'll quit wanting to reinstate corporal punishment in that classroom soon.
Overall, my students are great. I have one German exchange student whose knowledge of American history far surpasses any of the Americans. I have a girl from South America who I get to speak Spanish with on occasion. A boy who told me on the first day of class that he has no academic strengths at all raised his hand not once, not twice, but three times today during class discussions.
Oh, yeah, remember this guy?
Yeah, that's Ronnie "Sunshine" Bass from the classic "Remember the Titans." I swear, I have the real-life incarnation of Ronnie in class. The kid is a dead ringer for him as far as looks go, but it goes much further than that: He just moved from a very warm, sunny state and loves to surf. He also plays football.
Needless to say, there's more than enough to keep me entertained everyday, and so far I've managed to develop a decent rapport with most of the 130-ish students I have. Still, being a first year teacher has me incredibly nervous all of the time. Are they actually learning anything from me? A student made a comment today that made my heart soar. He was the last one out of the classroom and we were chatting as he packed up. He asked what other schools I had taught at and when I told him none, he looked at me, shook his head and said, "Really? I never would have pegged you for a rookie. You're doing an awesome job." He gave me a thumbs up and left the classroom. I don't think he realizes how much he made my day (week? month? I'm still smiling)
It's still incredibly surreal to me that at 23, only 2 months out of graduate school, I've walked into such an amazing job to start my career. Although a little overwhelmed at times, I primarily feel supremely blessed and humbled, especially in this economy. I hope I can keep the rest of them fooled this year.
So maybe I'm feeling a little stressed. I've got 130 students (give or take-- my class list still changes daily) and I'm scrambling to find chairs and books for everybody, not to mention prepare to teach them all-- but I really, really love it. I've got one squirrely class that was giving me guff the first two days (Sean made fun of me all afternoon for using the word 'guff'. He wanted to know if I am 80 and asked if those darn boys were wearing short pants again) but we had a breakthrough today and I think I'll quit wanting to reinstate corporal punishment in that classroom soon.
Overall, my students are great. I have one German exchange student whose knowledge of American history far surpasses any of the Americans. I have a girl from South America who I get to speak Spanish with on occasion. A boy who told me on the first day of class that he has no academic strengths at all raised his hand not once, not twice, but three times today during class discussions.
Oh, yeah, remember this guy?
Yeah, that's Ronnie "Sunshine" Bass from the classic "Remember the Titans." I swear, I have the real-life incarnation of Ronnie in class. The kid is a dead ringer for him as far as looks go, but it goes much further than that: He just moved from a very warm, sunny state and loves to surf. He also plays football.Needless to say, there's more than enough to keep me entertained everyday, and so far I've managed to develop a decent rapport with most of the 130-ish students I have. Still, being a first year teacher has me incredibly nervous all of the time. Are they actually learning anything from me? A student made a comment today that made my heart soar. He was the last one out of the classroom and we were chatting as he packed up. He asked what other schools I had taught at and when I told him none, he looked at me, shook his head and said, "Really? I never would have pegged you for a rookie. You're doing an awesome job." He gave me a thumbs up and left the classroom. I don't think he realizes how much he made my day (week? month? I'm still smiling)
It's still incredibly surreal to me that at 23, only 2 months out of graduate school, I've walked into such an amazing job to start my career. Although a little overwhelmed at times, I primarily feel supremely blessed and humbled, especially in this economy. I hope I can keep the rest of them fooled this year.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)
