Too Cool for School



Hey all. I've been having some trouble navigating my own blog. Others have told me that they had some trouble leaving comments. I was about to say, "If you're having some trouble leaving comments, leave a comment!" But oh, I'm too smart for that. So if you're having trouble leaving a comment, just leave a comment on my Myspace. It'll keep people who don't read my blog guessing.

News on my Dad: Yesterday, the heart doctor hooked him up to a 24-hour monitor, which looks like a battery pack with little stickies that go all over his chest. He is supposed to act and move normally. This is encouraging because if something's up with his heart, at least they'll know. It really feels like the doctors are taking his case seriously. It's not that they weren't before, but when they don't know what's wrong, it's kind of discouraging.

Speaking of discouragement, I've been debating whether I agree with Oswald Chambers when he writes, "Discouragement is just disillusioned self-love". Any thoughts, yay or nay? I'm not sure. Oswald Chambers loves words more than I do. It can be hard to get his meaning sometimes. The quote, of course, is from My Utmost for His Highest.

Today I went to Starbucks and got a pumpkin spice latte. It was ok, didn't change my life. But I just wanted to warn you, it's the only coffee I've ever had...that's orange.

I have a lot more to say, but I have to go cook for myself. Why can't myself cook for me? (don't laugh, the joke is not funny.)


Let me be wrong

Do you ever wonder why, when we're most wrong, most off-base about something, that we fight for it even more? Or at least, that's my habit. I know that when I get upset about something, tired, sick, or hurt that I'm probably going to perceive everything through those eyes. Try being upset, tired, sick, and hurt all in the same week. It's irrationality at its best. But even though I'm dead wrong, I still expect people to listen to what I have to say? Am I alone in this?

I have to admit that a big problem for me this week is that I've been upset about my father. He hasn't been feeling well, and the doctors don't know why. They've discovered it isn't his heart, but in the meantime, they're just taking stabs in the dark, giving him various blood pressure medications and telling him to keep going. It's just a mix of feelings for me, because he's probably going to be fine. But he's 83. One day I will have to be without him in my life. Everyone has to face this at some time or another. It's part of life. I can't be angry or upset really, because he's 83. Think of how healthy he is, or has been for so long. I'll always be grateful for that.

And school is just hard right now. Hard, hard, hard! SO worth it though. Like every one of God's gifts.

Maybe blogging is a very impersonal way to share stuff. But it's easier to write it than say to a big room of people, "Hey guys, I'm really afraid my Dad is sick."

Thanks for...listening.



I wish I could write something meaningful today. Tried last night, but all I came up with was sort of empty. Right now I'm listening to Emo music trying to choose songs for scene changes. My students don't know it yet, but we're doing After Juliet for our one-act play competition. It's not UIL, mind you, just a districtwide competition. The play is written in a modern context, and totally geared toward rockstar culture. This music depresses me. Give me some Jack Johnson! I'll probably end up liking the music. I always get drawn into different cultures and history because of whatever play we're working on. Last spring it was the 1970's, the year before that, British-ruled India. That's the fun of theatre: you learn by immersion.
I got my hair cut on Saturday by a beautiful man. He was beautiful not just because he was good-looking (He was--very), but because he encouraged me and others. Everybody needs encouragement when they're about to have someone mutilate their tresses. I have crazy layers now. The layers I had before--childsplay. Trick is, can I actually style my hair like the they did in the salon? Probably not. You may see me next in a ponytail.
Today at school, I was grumpy. Grumpy because my nose is all stopped up and I didn't have a diet coke. After four years of caffeine-free living, I became readdicted to caffeine, and now I'm trying to quit cold turkey. So far, three days. You probably couldn't call it sobriety, since the lack of caffeine turns me into a zombie. Well, anyway.

Ok, I've thought of something meaningful. As I said, this was a rough morning. My kids were doing a self-starter assignment, but none of them self-started today. They just sat there. That's probably my biggest pet-peeve as a teacher--that fake helplessness that kids feign to get you to do the work for them. When the fifth child asked me why my stapler didn't work properly, I wanted to staple myself to the wall. It's the kind of madness from which there is seemingly no escape. Finally, the bell rang and I spent my conference reading 1 Peter 5 for a bible study I attend on Thursdays. AND LOOK AT THIS!

"Be shepherds of God's flock, that is under your care, serving as overseers--not because you must, but because you are willing...not lording over those entrusted to you, but being examples to those entrusted to you. And when the Chief Shepherd appears, you will receive the crown of glory that will never fade away."
1 Peter 5: 3 & 4

This is probably aimed at Elders, but to any leader, it means a lot. It reminds me that I'm helpless and whiney sometimes, but God always treats me with care and firm discipline. He doesn't yell at me for being a sheep, even though sheep are pretty unwise creatures.

So there you have it...something good. Baa.


My room is a mess and I don't care!

If you walk inside, you'll see my duvet cover, lying half-strewn across the ironing board. A pile of naked pillows is stacked on my ottoman. There are unidentified, possibly important papers on top of my computer desk (along with my old, usurped computer and my already-paid bills. I can't find my favorite lipstick. It's 8:53, which means one thing: it's my bedtime. Boy, am I glad to have a roommate, but I sometimes hate that she's right about the fact that I'm not getting enough sleep. So I'm about to go to bed. Am I tired? Probably. But it's really hard for me to admit that. This morning at school I was on lunchroom duty when a couple of 8th grade boys decided they would like to fight. Where does anyone get the energy to start a fight in the cafeteria at 7 am? Sheesh! I threw my diminuitive self in front of one of them, a normally good-natured but very large student of mine. I tried holding him back. He weighs over 300 pounds. The boy he was "fighting" was taunting him with comments that my student was too fat to fight right. It took me and several other students to hold the boys apart. After what seemed like an eternity, a male teacher came in and took the threatening student to the office. My student followed, livid. No punches were thrown. Later, the teacher came and told me I shouldn't have tried to hold them back, and that I shouldn't put myself in any danger. I'm just wondering how I could do that? I guess I'm just one of those people who tries to jump in the big middle of things. Sometimes that's right, sometimes it's not. The day wore on, and my sleep deprivation was causing me troubles. I kept stuttering while giving directions during class. Kim, you're right. I need to go to bed now. Stalling is what I'm doing! Shee!


Little Ryan

I'm so excited to share these pictures. World, meet Christopher Ryan Chappotin.

Look at that bebe! Gotta love those September kids.

There is not a sweeter family than this one. Congratulations, guys. God bless.


MYSPACE: A conspiracy Theory

I have a myspace.

I mean, come's a myspace. Who cares, right? Just one little myspace won't hurt. I can stop anytime I want. DON'T JUDGE ME!!!

Anyway, I was online two and a half hours ago, right before roomie and I started watching Akeela and the Bee. I didn't really log off, but then, it usually logs off for me...sometimes, when I just visit another website. Well, I just got back on the internet to get some directions to the dance studio I'm visiting tomorrow morning. Couldn't help but take a sneaky-peak I DIDN'T HAVE TO but I did...check my... Myspace. And it says I am still logged on.

DANG, GINA! I logged that sucker off. I can't have people see me like this, a desperate girl at home Friday night, hopelessly online, on pointe, on myspace. Waiting for someone to drop me a courtesy comment. No, sir! I logged OFF!

I checked it again, a minute ago.

It says I'm still online.

So, I guess you want to leave me a comment? That's fine. Just type my name in the search bar. But don't, I reapeat, don't under any circumstances stop reading this blog. Myspace is only so I can drop people little comments like, "Hey girl! Heeeyyyy!" and so I can see what my ex-boyfriends are up to. That's all.

I can stop whenever I want. But I'm not quitting until I get at least 1,000 friends.


Easy To Love

Shee, we're all so different. It becomes apparent anytime I go shopping with my friends, who share so much with me, but definitely hone in on different things. I like it that way, because when we were in Half Price Books, there was this one woman who kept getitng in my way everytime I was shopping in a book area. The store is divided up into little alcoves: Art, history, cooking, gardening, etc, etc, etc. At any rate, I was digging through the performing arts section, and she was there. In the drama section, she was there. I had to go to the Religious section to get away from her. (Ok, that's not WHY I went to the religion. I was looking for Donald Miller, but who sells back a Donald Miller book? Nobody!) Anyway, I know she felt the same way about me, judging by the huffing sounds she made as I dove for a Shakespeare anthology right in front of her. I should have met her, asked her if she knew where I could find plays for middle school kids. Plays for middle school kids...that's another blog entry I don't want to make. Keanu Reeves probably got his start in middle school plays, which to me explains everything. I'm so tacky.

I wanted to make a corny list of things I love. Not because anyone cares, but just in case we have something strange in common. I've decided to call said list,

polka dots
big buttons

reading children's books and making up voices for the characters
pomengranate juice
avocados straight out of the peel, with a spoon
tap dancing
writing parody songs about people I know
chicken sausage and turkey tacos
dyeing clothes
cleaning my bathroom sink (it looks so shiny!)
Blogging (apparently not fun to a lot of people)

What about you? What's something you like that others might find a little strange? Quotes