It's Just You & Me, Blog...

Dear Tabsmom Blog:

It has been too long since you and I had a meaningful conversation about the pursuits of life - career advancement, advocacy, child-rearing, cultural commentary, social commentary, the meaning of life, etc., etc. I apologize for the distance as of late. Blame it on Facebook.

Blog, here it's just you and me, a blank screen awaiting content, wit, insight, photos. If what I compose sucks, oh well. I don't think too many people specifically read this blog. You were created in May 2005 at the onset of my cancer chronicles. You were a bastion of communication and networking, and you saved me many minutes on my phone.

Now, my ADD-rattled psyche is quite at home on Facebook. My urge to entertain, to craft snarky comments, to question and receive answers - all those needs are met by Facebook. To what end are you useful anymore, dear blog? You are the equivalent of an empty journal. The pressure to fill you can be overwhelming.

Ok, not really, dear blog. I'm just busting your stones. I do plan to write a whole lot this summer, now that I have caught up on my rest and shifted my frame of mind. Tabsmom Blog, you are my original on-line home. I could never really leave.

Love, Tabsmom

School Year 2008-2009: By The Numbers

As the school year draws to a close (and that can't come soon enough), I present to you -

Ms. K's Annual Data Report

# of senior students I taught this year: 150

# of senior classes I taught: 5

% of this year's graduating class that I taught: over 50%

# of graduation projects I read: 140

# of pages in an average graduation project: 20

# of teen parents I taught: 7

# of teen parents who failed my class: ZERO

# of days I was out with pink eye (including days that my daughter had it): 5

# of days I was out for cancer treatment: ZERO!

% of my students who will be graduates of the Class of 2009: 93%

# of figurative hats I wore this year: at least 20

# of days till Summer Vacation BEGINS: 9!!

Congrats to the Class of 2009. You've made me proud (and tired).

Love, Ms. K

Dear Dunkin Donuts on City Line & Haverford Avenues:

Our encounters are on a near-daily basis, and yet every so often, you decide to mess with my morning and screw me over.

On occasion, you will yell at me, because I don't have my money ready. Being as though I am not a mind-reader, I can't give you money if you don't tell me what the total is! Duh! Plus, you seem to forget the fact that you are NOT a necessary service. I am GIVING you MY money - you should be grateful. Don't take me for granted. There are plenty of other places to get my breakfast in the morning, particularly from my own house.

Other times you will deceive me unknowingly... like this morning. When you handed me my coffee this morning, the napkin around the cup was wet. This could only be because you didn't put the lid on properly, right? Isn't that what I pay you to do, to put the lid on my coffee cup correctly? I adjusted the lid, and yet my cup continued to leak. Why would this be? There was no obvious explanation - until I took off the lid. My cup was broken!!! Even the smallest of cracks or breaks in a cup ruins the whole coffee experience. See evidence below.

DD, I will give you the benefit of the doubt. You are not that smart, for otherwise you would not be in business shlepping donuts and coffee. You would be doing something to help society, like create sustainable transportation or save the chinchillas or educate our youth. HOWEVER, next time my coffee cup has even one drip on it, I will block up the drive-thru line until the issue is resolved. And I don't care how much you yell. My daughter is 4 - I can withstand your whining.

kluvyacya2morrow - Tabsmom

Because I have worked too much and not had enough fun...

Being a responsible and together grown-up sucks sometimes. Not on payday, of course, when my bank account reflects my strong work ethic and successes - and not after I have paid the bills and still have a good chunkachange left over.

Being a grown-up sucks when I want to spontaneously take a drive to Atlantic City, stroll the boardwalk, and watch the sun go down... and I can't, because there is a child to be picked up from daycare, dinner to be cooked, dishes and laundry, and several hours of work to be done in order to maintain my reputation.

Being a grown-up sucks when the alarm starts going off at 5 a.m., and I still need another 5 hours of sleep to feel fully rested.

Being a grown-up sucks when you have to deal with varied unsavory and uncouth grown-ups who squash every morsel of joy and happiness out of everyone and everything they encounter.

Call me disillusioned. I am. I am eagerly anticipating my summer vacation when my time will be my own, not dictated by an alarm clock (Tabby is technically NOT an alarm clock, although the argument could be made otherwise), not bound by the mandates of work (any work I do will be of my own volition). This all sounds horribly self-indulgent. You could make the case.

Frankly, it's been so long since I've written that I'm slightly constipated with emotional word sludge (ew, disgusting image!). I think I might need to start writing poetry again. Yeah, I should do that.

PS. I need to reclaim my inner happy.

My Entry for the Google Photo Contest

My Entry for the Google Photo Contest

A Tourist's Eye - From the Edge

Picasso's Southern France Studio - Open to the public at last!

As always, I'm loving the artwork @ Postcard From Provence: Dark & Delicious!

Beautiful Brazilian Cuisine (courtesy of the NY Times Travel Section)

100,000 Strong - Race for the Cure - Philly Style

The club you join when you become a breast cancer survivor is hardly exclusive. You got it, you are admitted, no class is denied, no race is turned away, age plays no part.

You find a lump, you get to jump - into the Survivors' Club.

The inclusivity of breast cancer was made explicitly clear to me at 7:00 a.m. this morning at the Philadelphia Art Museum circle as thousands assembled for the Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure. The chaos was loosely organized; the swag was flowing; snacks were tossed out to the crowds.

Groups small and large gathered with banners, memoria, pink from head to toe, pinned racing numbers. Survivors and those lost to the fight were honored in glitter, spray paint, airbrush, ink. Donned in t-shirts, sweatpants, jackets, and sneakers, the crowd was ready to walk, walk, walk - 3 miles - 5 kilometers.

At 8:15 a.m., the masses moved to the start line. My walking partner, the ever-lovely and supportive Leslie Carlis stood side-by-side with me in sisterly solidarity. The crowd strolled down the Parkway to City Hall, hooked a right and around to JFK Boulevard, another turn up Market to West Philly, and back. A puddle of puke reminded me of the frailty of the human body; baby strollers championed the next generation of fighters; preteen cheerleaders shouted, "Race for the Tatas!" at every mile marker.

The crash from the endorphine high was solid. When I got back home, my pillow winked and invited me to lie my head upon it. I did; four hours later, I awoke.

I'm all over the web!

I occasionally Google myself - who doesn't? This is what I have found recently:

~ I reviewed a book on SIOP (teaching English to second-language learners). You can see me here, here, and here.

~ My profile for UPENN's Distributed Leadership initiative is here.

~ I reviewed a teacher book called What Really Matters. My name is credited here.

~ I got mentioned in the Philadelphia School District employee newsletter for my mini-grant here.

Movie Review (and Waxing Philosophical): Life After People

I was going through my 12th grade yearbook on Thursday. It made me mourn inside. First, I noticed the glaring absence of well wishes and memories inscribed in my previous yearbooks. Skimming through the book, I find that NO ONE at all wrote in it. Nothing penned, scribbled, signified, just page after page of black and white pictures and type. I mourned for allowing myself to check out of high school so soon and enter the corrupt world of adults. I remember where I was in 12th grade, and mentally, it was not in my high school classrooms nor with my peers.

I came across a photo of myself with the literary magazine staff - sooooo long is my frown in the picture, so straight my hair, so empty my eyes. One of the ugliest portraits I have ever seen. I couldn't even bring myself to scan it and post it on Facebook.

When I got to my senior year profile, complete with smiling portrait (that came out great, to my surprise), I read through my list of memories, friends, activities, and pet peeves. My pet peeve back in 1993? PEOPLE. UGH! How drole was I? How empty and alone? PEOPLE? That's the best I had? The entire population was my pet peeve? Almost as bad as my peers who wrote high school as their pet peeve.

Apparently, however, my peeve of people has not disappeared over the years, just been repressed and sublimated. Ever since seeing the preview for LIFE AFTER PEOPLE, I was anxious to get my hands on it, relish the view of a planet without jerks, misanthropes, idiots, scoundrels, and the like.

Life After People did not disappoint. Breaking down the devolution/evolution of Earth without its humans at certain periods across a timeline (1 day without people, 2 days without people.... 1 year without people, 3 years without people.... 10 years, 50 years, 100 years, 1000 years) - it all made me feel so utterly small and insignificant in the grand scheme of things. All traces of human presence will be virtually eliminated after a thousand years. The only thing that would be left as proof that humans ever existed would be styrofoam. Mother Nature would reclaim Her world, vegetation would flourish, animals would again be free to roam. Peace would reign.

Like my yearbook, LIFE AFTER PEOPLE made me mourn.

Sweet-kend!

A sweet weekend it was, my final one as a 33 year old. Kicked it off on Friday with some Chinese take-out and a batch of movies. Wonderland starring Val Kilmer as notorious movie star John Holmes rocked the night - drugs, violence, jarring film techniques, obsession - it was much more than I expected, and it's always nice when something is better than you expect. On the downside, I suffered through The Day The Earth Stood Still remake starring everyone's favorite robot-actor Keanu Reeves. It had potential, it really did, but the end doomed it to the $1 bin. Last time I saw Keanu in a good movie was The Lake House. Poor guy - how long ago was that?

The next morning it was off to UPENN for Distributed Leadership training. The weather on Saturday was GORGEOUS, but alas! I was trapped indoors for 8 hours listening to lectures on decision-making. Ah well! We disbanned at 4 p.m., and I was off to Morimoto for my birthday dinner with Mom and Barry. I have fond (and expensive) memories of my late husband's 30th birthday dinner in 2003 at that place. It was a bittersweet feeling being back there, the interior decoration the same, but feelings of emptiness and resentful nostalgia creeping in... then banished! This was my good time. I bemoaned forgetting my camera to photograph the delicious food, and my cell phone just didn't capture the detailed colors and textures of the food. The wine was sweet (love a good reisling!), the rock shrimp was tangy, the sushi melted in my mouth, and the cappucino capped off a perfect meal. At home that night, RL and I caught up on TV shows through Hulu (seriously House-writers, did Kutner have to end it like THAT?), and I fell into a peaceful slumber.
















Sunday was field trip day down to the Free Library of Philadelphia Book Festival. I met four of my kids from my AP English class, bought them lunch, and took pictures of them fingerpainting, posing with the Target dog, meeting authors, and being accosted by rogue jugglers. I picked up all kinds of free swag and got a few books signed.
















(OMG - saddest Clifford evah!)
















(OMG - me and Target Dog!)

On the way home, I stopped at my beloved vegetable truck at 44th and Walnut Streets. How I miss it! I got about 15 pounds of fruit and vegs for less than $10. With my last dollar, I bought a bag of onions for a woman short of change but full of impulse. Random acts of kindness empower and enrich the soul.

Birthday Monday was a splash! Because of my pervasive Facebook use, and friending nearly all my students, the birthday wishes were overwelming and adorable! Loved it, what can I say? It's nice not to have to point out to others that it's your birthday. Plus, during my last period class, a gift basket from my dad and Tina was delivered to my classroom. Supersweet. Thanks, Daddieo!

Spring Break - A Week in the Life of...

Thursday - night time driving down Baltimore Pike towards West Philly - great graffiti at Baltimore and Lansdowne Avenue - who doesn't love the smile of a cat, even an illegal one?
















Didn't realize how picturesque the liquor store could be till I was sitting outside waiting for the car next to me to pull out so I could leave:
















Tabitha at swimming class - kids sitting on noodles with floatie belts around their waists - my daughter is on the left:
















Front yard work is underway. Bless RL for his hard work digging out those nasty bushes in the front yard:
















Telephone poles and ominous clouds - yes, it's spring!

Chagall @ Sotheby's Auction - Lovin' It!

So gorgeous - what I wouldn't do to hang one in my house!

More delicious painitings from Postcard From Provence

My Surreal World - A List of Happenings, Sightings, and Oddities

After so many storms, unpredictable at best, over the past week, I wouldn't mind being here (I double dog dare myself to eat breakfast that close to the edge!):




















Or here... so much like Crystal Pier but tropical:


















You know the world is coming to an end when panti-liners are replacing the major arcana (and that ALWAYS seems to think that a maxi-pad can provide the same messages as the skilled reading of a tarot deck) - picture taken from my REAL SIMPLE magazine today (not high quality, click picture to enlarge, then tilt head left to read):
















Friday's crazy storms brought rainbows to West Philly - here is a shot from my phone outside of Dahlak (where I later enjoyed some tibs and enjera on the first evening of Spring Break):
















This picture just isn't right; clever, yes, but so, so wrong - I had to pull up beside this car to see who was driving this monstrosity of a license plate - big white girl jamming to some death-metal-rap-combo. Note to Jesus... the anti-Christ is driving a sedan in Delco:
















Today, juicy clouds, sun bursting through, good camera at home, cell phone camera will do:
















In two days, I will be purchasing a truck from a nice young man in Collegeville. His bro posted the truck for $900, but he only planned on asking $800 as evidenced on the SALE sign taped to the window. Deal. Low mileage, new engine, not much to look at on the outside, but for the purposes of hauling and dumping and house-redoing, this will do fine. My first truck - bad, it's a truck, but good, because it's used:















First planned purchase to be hauled home (outside of drywall) - a bed - I'm partial to ones with shelves underneath:















Here's to hope, love, production, and peace during a stay-at-home-Spring-Break.

Coolest Hammock Evah!

I had this crazy idea a few months ago to sign up for the Luxury Insider on-line magazine. It basically caters to millionaires, but hey, I can live vicariously through them, right? Check out this hammock - not your typical suburban lounge-about! Do you think this would be out of place in the front yard of my little Upper Darby rowhome?

Super Sunny Saturday

Time during the week to write is scarce these days, so I love when Saturday rolls around, and I get some time for myself, to rest, to write, and now to exercise.

BIG NEWS: Despite being a breast cancer survivor, I have never participated in one of those "Race for the Cure" walks. I always "mean to," but I never actually do. So this year is my year to follow through on those half-hearted promises. I'll be walking a 5K race on Mother's Day, May 10, 2009. 5K = 3.1 miles. Easy. I love walking. I haven't walked extensively since a year and a half ago before my radiation treatments. Kicked my butt, gained too much weight. But now is the time for action, and I will be walking. The 3-Day in October is terribly appealing, but I figure I'll start with a small one, build my endurance, and then hit the big walk in 2010. Till then, today's beautiful weather prompted my first steps back on the road to health.

I drove over to the track at Upper Darby HS, the school where I did my student teaching, and which I remember fondly from gymnastics meets in 9 & 10th grades. Stretched a bit, put in the earbuds, and I began walking - 12 laps for three miles. I can do this, I said. The soundtrack from my iPod kept a hop in my step. I felt so young again, walking in circles but actually feeling like I was going somewhere.

After my morning breakfast meeting with my principal, I needed to walk out my excitement anyhow. A new position is on tap for me next year; I knew it was coming, but I was anxious to get the official WORD. So now it's official. All the details still need to be ironed out, but in essence, I'll have my ideal schedule. SUCCESS!

My day ended on a most positive gastronomic note. In the mail I received a sample of Chocolate Drizzle Mini Rice Cakes from Quaker Oats. DIVINE! The liquor store is carrying Pacific Rim wines again (PA limits the wine it imports from CA), and my homemade lasagna is delicious two days later. YUM!

DONE! My National Board Portfolio....

At the end of last school year (Summer 2008), I learned about the opportunity to earn a national teaching certificate through the National Board of Professional Teaching Standards (NBPTS). The Pennsylvania Department of Education decided that our state didn't have enough of these nationally certified teachers, and a grant came through to pay for more PA teachers to earn this certification (application/processing fee is $2500). To entice more teachers in Philadelphia to attempt national certification, a bonus of $3500 per year for the life of the certificate (10 years!) is rewarded.

SWEET! I thought. Get money for showing what a good teacher I am. I can do this.

So I have spent the past year reading, writing, attending workshops, videotaping, collecting, analyzing, and writing some more, in order to complete the work for my certification. I wrote four papers, each over 10 pages in length, looking at student work, student discussion, teaching strategies, and my teaching accomplishments. I watched myself on video leading my kids on group discussions and did my best to analyze why the kids did what they did in my recordings.

Overall, it was a grueling process, requiring hours and hours of time (not paid - yet!) compiling and perfecting my writing.

This weekend, I finally finished my writing portfolio, weeks ahead of the March 31st deadline. I refused to be one of those last-minute people. RL pushed me, really, to get the work done.

It's done!

Next step in this certification process will be a three-hour test on a variety of English Language Arts topics. I'm scheduled for May 2.

Scores come out in December. OMG!! So long to wait after so much work.

I can't wait to get my money :)