Great Escape

Last weekend, Kev and I went to the wedding of two awesome friends of ours. The groom had stood up in our wedding, and we adore both of them. Even better, we've known then for a very long time, so we were able to sneak out to the suburbs for a weekend of behaving poorly and dancing the night away.

We came back early on Sunday, since we had grad school homework to do and a house to get in order. As we walked up our courtyard, it appeared that the screen of our second-story living room was out. "Yikes," I said to Kev, "I really hope that the screen doesn't have a big hole in it." "I know," said Kev, "Otherwise the kitties would be very cold."

We walked into the lobby of our building to find two things. 1) Our screen, and 2) a sign.

FOUND CAT (LOBBY)
ORANGE AND WHITE
LARGE

We walked in and hunted around our place. There was Dante, hissing beneath a couch and being his generally crochety self. No Felix. Disturbing, since the only route of escape would have been out the SECOND STORY WINDOW.

We called the number on the sign and walked into the condo of the woman across the hall. We'd never met before. Turns out, we'd never met because she is a cat woman in every sense of the word. Embroidered cat pillows, framed cat wall art, three cat condos all taller than I am, six cats. I couldn't even look at Kev while we were in there. It was amazing and terrifying, all at the same time. Last but not least, hiding in her bathroom, Felix.

In the weeks since, Felix has seemed fine, although I doubt we'd be able to tell a difference from his usual stupidly happy behavior. Moral of the story: While you are off behaving irresponsibly in a hotel, your cats will behave irresponsibly at home. Being a pet owner is not for the faint of heart.

Ways I Know I'm Getting Old

-I have a headache spawned from work stresses, not booze.
-I'm thinking about going to bed at 9:45 to remedy this problem, rather than going out to a bar. Because again, it's some sort of strange sober headache.
-I am only on page 72 of a book I started a week ago.
-I've worn heels out to events without people calling me ahead of time demanding that I do so.
-I saw one of my second grade students wearing a neon comic-book print rain slicker with aviators and plaid pants. I told him he looked like Elton John. He responded "Who's that?"
-I just heard that New Kids on the Block and Backstreet Boys are touring together and performing mash-ups of their greatest hits. I squealed in delight while driving my Focus.
-I'm going to a wedding this week, which made me realize that if I am ever the head bridesmaid at a wedding, I will be known as the "Matron of Honor." Ew, ew, ew.

Somebody help me.

The Joys of Photography

Recently, we went to Vegas for our friends' wedding. They had an awesome, low key ceremony that was perfect for the two of them, and as a wedding gift, we borrowed one of Kev's coworkers' fancy shmancy camera so that we could commemorate their big day. Before taking the camera to the Vegas wedding, Kev, his dad, and I headed up to Minnesota to visit Kev's younger siblings at college. I spent an afternoon with the camera and I am now officially addicted. As previously mentioned, I'm trying to become more of a creative, artsy person, and I feel this may help. Unfortunately, the camera is way out of our price range, so I guess I'll just have to post wistfully about how awesome having it was, and then hope somebody reads this and takes pity on me. Preferably somebody with a generous heart, a softness for chatterboxes like myself, and lots of cold, hard cash.

I mean, this camera takes very relaxing pictures of tress:


It also takes pictures of delicious grapes at vineyards:



It can document snazzy fashion choices:


Best of all, it has a multi-frame feature which allows you to take multiple shots with a single push of the button. This option is especially helpful for archiving important moments in sporting events. For example, when Kev's dad out putted Kev in frisbee golf:


That last photo alone should be enough evidence. Have I convinced you that I need this yet?

Halloween Madness

It's the Friday before Halloween, which, for my students, means a day of insanity and catwalk-like presentations of their costumes. The world of kindergarten has been an exhausting place lately. I've had a crier in my room every day this week, and a terrible hacking cough has been circulating around my room, which actually makes me grateful for my overzealous immune system. I'm currently writing this in my empty classroom, surrounded by cupcake shrapnel, while the shrieks of the neighboring over-sugared first graders pierce the walls.

Overall, it was a very exciting Halloween party, complete with skeletons made from Q-tips, toilet paper mummy wraps, and a parade around the school. The funniest part about working at a school with a young staff, though, is that we were all secretly whispering about our "grown up" costumes. You know, the costumes that no child should see a teacher wearing. You know, the costumes that remind us that there is life beyond purple glue sticks, keds, and parent teacher conferences. The trend for girls seems to be to dress slutty, which doesn't exactly translate to grade-school friendly adult attire, which means most of us have a "school" costume and a "real" costume. I settled for a pair of butterfly wings with jeans and a t-shirt. My kids told me I looked gorgeous, and I was comfortable enough to endure the treat induced tantrums.

Grown up costuming, on the other hand, is another story. I'm not really into the scandalous thing, and now that I'm married, I really don't see the point. After all, Kev has this locked down. Kev has also announced that he has no interest in dressing up this year, even though it is a good friend's birthday and we will be at a bar celebrating all night. I still have no idea what to be, although I can give you a list of suggestions I gave to Kev about dynamic duo costumes for the two of us, including Coach Q and the Stanley Cup, a Ghostbuster and Slimer, and a lawn gnome and a landscaper. I'll let you figure out who would be whom in each pairing. After a hearty veto from Kev on all counts, I'll be spending the next 24 hours whipping up something awesome. Something.... I just don't know what yet...

Kev and I were out of town the last two weekends in a row, so look forward to some excellent photo recaps this weekend of our adventures.

Happy Halloween!

Itch (the good kind)

I've decided lately that I need a hobby. Or rather, I'm itching to create something tangible. Like a knitted hat, or a fabulous meal, or a series of thoughtful photographs.

Kev has always been the more creatively talented of the two of us. He took years of art classes as a kid, and has some astoundingly beautiful drawings and paintings to his name. He's also a suspiciously good athlete. He hides it well, but he is. It seems like anything that guy touches, he's good at. It's one of the many reasons I married him.

I, on the other hand, am the queen of big ideas. I love to sign up for things or start things, but I rarely finish them. This is a major problem for me, and probably contributes to my lack of really cool talents. Sure, I'm a decent teacher, and I can write things that make a bit of sense, but that's about it. Sports? I'm a disaster. Art? My kindergarteners routinely do better. Crafts? Forget it. The only thing I'm really talented at is setting a goal. Meeting it? That's another story.

I'm going home today to bake some pumpkin cookies, and this weekend Kev and I are going up to his brother's college to visit him. At said beautiful small college, we will have the chance to take lots of outdoorsy photos, which I'm hoping to frame and stick on our wall above our purdy new couches. Maybe, just maybe, if I continue with one of these options, I can start a new hobby.

I have a creative itch that I'm looking to scratch, but I fear this may take some work and practice, two things I don't like. As I'm typing this, I'm realizing I may need to start small. Maybe I'll take my camera out once a week, and I'll bake or cook something new once a week. Maybe it will get easier if I start small. Maybe I will follow through on these resolutions.

Maybe I'll even post about it someday soon....

Señor Justin Bieber

Yesterday, I was walking down the hallway when I spotted one of my first grade friends. She is a teensy Mexican girl in our transitional bilingual program, and I love her because she always has a smile on her face. I happened to notice that she had a large picture taped to the inside of her locker, something that is kind of a rarity among six year olds, since they are generally not as pop-culture savvy as some of the older students. Not this peanut, though.

Not seeing the picture, I asked my friend who was in the picture in Spanish. She didn't miss a beat. Replying back in Spanish, she said "You know him, Mrs. G. Es el señor Justin Bieber. Claro." Of course, indeed.

This makes me laugh for several reasons
1) Justin Bieber is 16. He definitely has not earned the title "Mr. Justin Bieber" yet
2) Justin Bieber is so popular that even a six year old that hasn't yet learned English knows him and loves him enough to put in his locker.
3) I missed an opportunity to ask her to sing me a Justin Bieber song.
4) Somebody signed the Justin Bieber photo in a suspiciously elementary school looking style of cursive. Perhaps a third grader?
5) She used the word "claro" which means of course. Implying that I must be really stupid for not knowing that he would be in her locker.

Wow. Just, wow. The best thing I can say about my job is that it is never, ever, boring.

Think Before You Wed

Hi All! Sorry for the lack of posting lately. Grad school has started again and I was in a bit of a pickle at work that was eating my soul. Luckily, I've given myself a mental pep talk, turned the corner, and now I'm off and running again. I promise more posts this week, but in the meantime, here are some thoughts for today.

Last weekend, I had a girls night with some of my co-workers, one of whom has been dating her boyfriend for 18 months. Somehow, we started talking about how you know if the person you are dating is the person you will marry. Represented in the group were women who had been married anywhere from 4 months to 8 years, so I feel we had a somewhat wide range of experiences to work with. I get asked all the time how Kev and I knew we were ready to get married. I'd like to tell those of you pondering that question that there was one magical moment that made me realize that I wanted Kev to be mine forever, but the truth is a lot more complicated. I can't point to any one thing that makes Kev perfect for me, but I do have a little checklist that the ladies and I came up with that may help.

10 Signs You Should Probably Put a Ring On It:
1) The person you are dating is the first person you call with good or bad news. Or irrelevant news. Or puns. Or for no reason at all.
2) Running errands with that person is something you enjoy doing. Because if you get married, you will have a lot of conversations about boring things, and need to make a lot of mundane decisions (which brand of cat litter to use, should you upgrade your toilet plunger, etc.) together.
3) You would be happy to spend the rest of your life with the person you are dating TODAY. Believe me, the person you walk down the aisle towards will not magically change with the signing of a legally binding piece of paper. When you get married, you will still have the same blessings and problems that you did before you took the plunge. Trust me on this.
4) You have a good belly laugh with that person every single day.
5) You have woken up next to each other and not been grossed out.
6) You can tease your significant other, but damn it if someone else makes a joke that hits a little too close to home, you ferociously defend that person.
7) You've talked about money and can live with the fallout from that conversation. (Side note: Kev had no idea that women's haircuts usually cost more than 20 bucks. He still fails to understand why I refuse to get my hair cut at Supercuts with me, or why I shop at stores besides Kohls for my clothes.)
8) You realize that this person will be your plus one to almost all the events you go to, and it doesn't make you cringe. This includes family events, weddings for people neither of you really like, and extremely boring and shmoozy work functions.
9) You've eaten each other's cooking and lived to tell about it.
10) You realize creating a healthy marriage and creating a beautiful wedding are not the same thing.

Now tell me, what am I leaving off the list?

Early to Bed

I wish I had more to write about today, but I really don't. I'm tired. Here are some of the things that are making me exhausted today:

1) During reading centers, I thought it would be fun to put some letter stamps and the stamp pad out for the kids to make words on paper using the letters they've learned. Instead, they made butterflies on the table using the hands they have. Also, handprints on their faces like clowns, on their shirts, in their hair. Sigh. I guess we're not ready for that yet. Sometimes I forget that I spend most of September just teaching them how to be at school. At this rate, we won't be ready for stamp pads til graduation. Yikes.

2) I just put in my big assignments for grad school, and realized that almost every major due date comes the Monday after I will be out of town for family visits or weddings. Double Yikes.

3) We had curriculum night at school last night. I worked a 13 hour day, and only 5 parents showed up. Triple Yikes.

On the plus side, I have the following things to look forward to:
1) I get to ride my bike to let out my ex-neighbor's dog today and tomorrow. This combines two things I love- bikes and puppies. (By the way, my bike still needs a name-any thoughts?)

2) Kevin is leaving for the wedding he is standing up in tonight, which means A) I can go to bed at 9:30 (which I will) and B) it is getting closer to Friday, which is when I am taking the day off of work to go to said wedding. I am inching towards a weekend where I wear multiple dresses and pairs of heels and drink enough cocktails to forget about the great Red Ink Stamp incident of 2010.

3) When I take the bus down on Friday morning I can sleep the whole time and read some great books. 5 hours of me time. Yes.

Happy Hump day!

How's Married Life?

I get that question a lot. I've now been married for 449 days, and I still have no idea how to answer it. Here are some responses I've considered giving:

1) Not all that different from living in sin Because honestly, it's not. Kev and I worked out all the little kinks about living together in the year we were engaged, which was our first year living together. Since we've gotten married, we have joint bank accounts, and we make each other a little more of a priority. We talk about the future more. But, really, that's about it.

2)Great! We bone all the time! I'm hoping that if I announced that, it would stop the tedious small talk immediately. Although, maybe not.

3) Well, I'm hoping I won't live it that much longer Why not answer an inane question with an untrue response meant to provoke gossip? At least it would give the question asker something exciting to talk about.

4) Great! That's what I usually say, because it is.

Honestly, though, I understand that people who haven't talked to me in awhile ask this question. I'm never quite sure what they are looking for in the answer. Life with Kev is really good, but it also has its own rhythm. For a while, we were in househunting mode, then absorbed in all the summer activities, and now, our fall is going to be consumed with a lot of small trips, most of which involve somebody's nuptials (which, incidentally, is a word I can't stand. I'll save that rant for another time, though). I'll go back to something I've said before: Our marriage has given me the ultimate partner in crime for all the mayhem that comes with our crazy and hilarious life. Somehow, though, I don't think that's the answer the question-er is looking for.

What's the best way YOU'VE ever heard anybody answer the married life question?

Obsessions

As some of you might have noticed, I'm kind of a resolution maker. I'm forever turning over new leaves, then abandoning them when I get busy or they get tricky. However, as a result of playing The Game On Diet with a bunch of online and real friends, I'm down 7 pounds. More importantly than that, though, I've started using some new tools to keep my life in order and myself more accountable to....well...myself. While I'm not saying that these things are perfect, here are some recent obsessions of mine in no particular order- just so you know what I think is awesome these days.

1) Bikes~~I'm currently lusting for a bike. I begged for one for my birthday, and I think Kev and I are going to kmart to pick one out for me. I don't want anything fancy, just something I can cruise around on instead of using public trans to visit my friends or run errands on when it's nice out. It's also going to go along nicely with my current goal, which is to keep off the weight I lost playing the Diet game. (It ended Sunday, I came in 4th, but more importantly, I lost my grad school weight) I'm obsessed with the idea of a funky vintage-y cruiser with a basket, however I feel my wallet and bike pricing might have more to say about what style I end up with than my dreams do.

2) Groupon and Buywithme Deal sites- These sites sound annoying. They send a daily coupon for a service/restaurant/clothes etc somewhere in your area. Luckily, I live in a big city with lots of options. While usually I look at the deals and decide I don't need/want it, about twice a month I've found ones that I'm super excited about. Most recently, I've bought a $50 gap coupon for $25, and $15 for $30 at my favorite margarita place. I'm obsessed. Buywithme even donates 10% of your purchase to a local charity of your choice. How rad is that?

3) Swaptree.com~~ Swaptree lets you list video games and books that you are finished with and would like to get rid of. However, the awesome part is that it also asks you to make a want list of books and video games you'd LIKE to receive. Then, it matches you up with people who are getting rid of books on your want list, and you can barter. The only costs associated are what you pay to mail your item. Swaptree makes its money by offering you the option to purchase a shipping label through them that has postage pre-paid. I usually go that route because I've found their shipping rates to be about the same as the post office. So far, I've completed 6 trades, and have gotten 5 books for me and one video game for Kev. Awesome.

4) Swagbucks.com- Use my banner below to join if you'd like. While the search engine is pretty crappy, (I'm a google gal myself) you can randomly earn swagbucks for using it. 450 swagbucks= $5 in amazon gift cards. While I personally don't use the search engine for ALL of my needs, they also have daily polls, swag codes "hidden" in their website, and surveys you can complete for more prizes. Like I said, I don't use it THAT much for searching, and I'm not a huge survey gal, but so far I've earned $15 free dollars to amazon. FREE. Like, paying no money. Amazing.

So here's the banner, if you are so inclined. I also highly recommend installing their "widget" especially if you have a google homepage. You can use it to tell you where the swag codes are hidden, and you can get a TON of swagbucks that way.




5) My flipcam- Last year for Christmas, Kevin got me a flipcam. I'm obsessed with this little baby, and am currently using it at school to make an imovie for my parents to watch as part of my curriculum night presentation. Rock on! So handy


Well, now that I've bored you all to tears, those are my current favorite things. Just call me Oprah

Mrs. Kevin Gas

Last week, while I was off the grid, two things happened. It was my birthday week, and it was also the first week of school. So far, the first weeks of work have been chaotic but fun, and my birthday week was an extravaganza, as usual. However, something arrived in my mailbox that was concerning.

It was a birthday card. From my grandma. Addressed to Mrs. Kevin Gas.

Now, I love my grandma and this is not a criticism of her, since I know she is very traditional about mailing cards and addressing them using married names. I will say, though, that it really irks me when I get mail (wedding save the dates, bills, and apparently birthday cards) that are addressed to me as Mrs. Kevin Gas. It makes me feel like I am now property of Kevin, and have lost both my first AND my last name.

I'm traditional in the fact that I took Kev's last name, even though I am an elementary school teacher. Luckily, the kids have been awesome about not making jokes this year, since it's now the second school year I've had it, and I've settled in. Personally, I like the idea of my someday kids having the same last name as we do, but I understand that there are lots of different opinions about whether or not to take the last name.

It's my first name where I draw the line. I'm not "Mrs. Kevin." I'm NICOLE, or Colie, or a host of other nicknames. When I see my name written as Mrs. Kevin Gas it makes me feel like Kevin's property, instead of myself, which is a person with her own career, interests, and passions that just HAPPENS to have fallen in love with an amazing man and gotten married. It irks me to the point that I asked the priest and bishop who married us not one, not two, not three, but FOUR times to make sure he announced us as "Mr. and Mrs. Kevin and Nicole Gas" when he was leading up to the big first kiss moment at the end of mass.

It's weird enough when my mechanic calls me Mrs. Gas, or when telemarketers ask for Nicole Gas. I don't need to lose my first name too. So there

Laminating and Other Tasks

So, as I mentioned in previous posts (and my lack thereof), the school year has started this week. I'm going to try to get into a regular MWF posting schedule starting next week, because I finally feel like I'm getting somewhere with my classroom. My kids are, so far, squirmy and cute. I have a new team member who I love. I sort of feel like I know what I'm doing. Life is good.

In fact, I've redone the way my entire classroom is laid out. While this originally involved a lot of hauling around heavy bookshelves and tables, it now involves lots of laminating. Laminating posters that came with new curriculum. Laminating name plates. Laminating pocket chart stuff. While I love the smell of lamination in the morning, I have run into a slight conundrum, and I need your help to figure it out.

My school laptop has only kindergarten songs on the itunes. Dr. Jean, Jolly Phonics songs, and a whole host of other silly tunes (hello, vintage Raffi) that I keep around because I love a good excuse to choreograph dance moves for a pack of five year olds. However, said laptop is connected to the school's internet, which means that teachers have the same firewall as students. While this really isn't a big deal, I'm annoyed for one reason. This year, because of budget cuts that have led to a ridiculously small bandwith, we aren't allowed to go to any radio station's websites. This includes wtmx.com, where my favorite morning show (Eric & Kathy- no Chicago people I'm NOT a soccer mom, I just like it better than that obnoxious Drex and his lotion hour) has podcasts.

In the past, after the kids left, I'd crank a podcast, and get work done around my room for an hour. Now, if I want a podcast, I'm going to have to put it on my computer at home (which means lugging a heavy bag daily on the train) or bring my iPod to school (which makes me look ridiculously anti social if people stop by my room after school). Kev and I also haven't purchased a CD in a very long time, so I can't just bring CDs to work to put on my iTunes.

Help. What's a girl to do?

I'm currently avoiding cutting out the big pile of laminating in my room in silence by writing this post. I feel my productivity will be down until this problem is solved. Yikes.

How to Name Your Child

***NOTE: I am not pregnant, and am not trying. Nor am I a parent. Nor am I trying to offend you if you have a baby whose name is one I'm ranting about currently. Just some thoughts.

Dear Parents Naming their Children,

As a grade-schooler of the 90s, I had lots of classmates named Jessica, Ashley, Lauren, Anne. Lots of Johns, Colins, Ryans, and Toms. One of my best friends' names was Erika spelled with a K because she's German. This was considered a minor scandal at the time.

At the beginning of a school year, the first information I have about my lil' peanuts is a list of their names. Your child's name will be on the list. My class lists for my students and their classmates, however, get a little more confusing. Kayleigh pronounced KY-lee, not KAY-LEE as I originally guessed. Noah, a girl. Wrigley and Addison, siblings whose parents are not Cubs fans. Joycelyn. Tlaloc. Usually, when I get my list, I spend the first ten minutes of reading it (after I count how many five year olds I will have in my room) trying to figure out how many boys and how many girls I have.

Names are starting to get confusing, people. A co-worker of mine announced the arrival of her new baby niece today. Blayksleigh. Yikes. The spelling is confusing, but I bet it is fun to write in cursive. Which leads me to speculate, why all the counter intuitive spelling? Please think carefully when writing on your child's birth certificate.

Now, you may point out, my married name is Gas. Granted, Kev and I won't have a whole ton of options when we name our someday children if we don't want to pay for extensive therapy for them later. (Jack? Mo? My brothers have supplied us with endless possibilities of names that DON'T work) But, at the same time, I don't understand why you guys seem to feel the need to spell your kids' names strangely. I actually think Blayksleigh isn't a bad name, but I would spell it Blakesly. Or Blakesley. Or something like that. Why set your kid up for endless correcting on the first day of school? Why torment your child's teachers (me among them) with endless re-writing of locker tags, name tags, desk name tags? I mean, honestly, do you all realize how many times a teacher has to write students' names on things?

I'm just saying, a name with a "cute" spelling might be fun for you, as the parent, to doodle in the margins of your notes when you are pretending to pay attention at a company meeting. But for your child, who has to learn to spell the beast, and correct everyone the rest of his or her life it may not be as cute. Just give it some thought. I mean, I'm the one who has to teach your five year old how to write it legibly and correctly. Thanks for your consideration.

Love,
Your child's kindergarten teacher

And...it's August

It's funny, because as a teacher, as soon as August comes around, my perspective shifts naturally. I dust off my alarm clock and start waking up early. I buy new planners, and start new lists. I also start new habits.

Because I'm a teacher, August is the start of my new year, and the resolutions that soon follow. New kids, new chances to grow, new yearly goals. This is the first year in my four years of teaching that I'm staying in the same position as last year: kindergarten in the morning, and first and second grade ELL groups in teh afternoon. I am, quite frankly, ecstatic about this. I poured a lot of my time and energy into making the transition from teaching second grade to teaching kindergarten a smooth one, and much of my remaining brainpower went into the two night classes each week I attended for my masters.

While I made a lot of career progress last year, areas of my personal life suffered. I tried to make up for my long hours teaching and student-ing by filling my calendar with an insane amount of social events. Kev and I spent last school year in a whilrwind of paper writing, househunting, intramural playing and beer downing. Was it fun? Absolutely. Was it healthy? Definitely not. My rheumatoid arthritis diagnosis didn't slow me down. I took my meds when I could, didn't worry about it when I couldn't.

A big RA flare up was the result, combined with a very stressful series of financial discussions in May. As a result, I realized that I physically can't sustain the breakneck pace that I worked at all last year. So, I made some changes. I spend my summer taking four summer graduate classes, so that I only have to be in class one night a week when the school year starts. I've started making lists and emailing staff, to try and get a head start on the school year. I'm playing the Game On! healthy habit building "game" with Kev and another couple, girls against boys, as well as online with a group of women I've never met in real life. Because of this, I'm getting more sleep, drinking less, eating healthier, and exercising more.

In short, it's August, and I'm bracing myself for the start of a new school year.

Fandom

When Kev and I first started dating, he had a tv in his bedroom, and when we started spending the nights together, I realized that this was pesky. Kev liked to fall asleep listening to White Sox highlights, which was problematic for two reasons:

1) I am a Cubs fan.

2) Falling asleep with the tv on gives me a raging headache when I wake up.

After many negotiations and general grouchiness, we've given away the tv, and switched to sportsradio before bed. I feel this is a good compromise. Kev gets his sports fix, I don't get headaches, and The Score talks about all kinds of Chicago sports, not just the White Sox. Everybody wins.

Last night, a caller called in and made the comment that "White Sox fans are real fans, and most of the people who go to Cubs games treat it like going to a bar where they can get drunk and check out babes." I could make lots of comments here about the general jerkiness about this statement, however it's one that I've heard lots of times- from Kev, from other Sox fans, from other callers on the show. However, the comment also made me start thinking about how you define what it means to be a "real" fan of a team. When I dared to comment on Facebook about my love for Blackhawks hockey during the playoffs this year, my brothers quickly labeled me a "bandwaggoner" despite the fact that I have put in three solid seasons of watching most of the games, sometimes with Kev, sometimes with our rabid hockey friend Colin, and sometimes by myself.

I have thus decided that "real" sports fans are the fans that meet two criteria:

1) A real sports fan can identify AT LEAST 5 current players on the team.
2) A real sports fan has watched/listened to at least 20 minutes of a game their team is playing in by themselves at least one time in their lives.

Real Fans are fans that are interested in what happens to their team every year. Not when their team is good, not when their team sucks, not only when it's trendy. A Real Fan is interested in the team for the love of the game. The Real Fan enjoys going out with a big group to watch a game, but they can also enjoy listening to the game on the radio in the car by themselves on the way home from work, or on their couch covered in cats. They don't base their fandom on who else is interested, or are only interested if they have a cute shirt to wear. They love it for lots of reasons that they have decided make sense for them.

I'm sure Kev is going to give me grief about daring to write about sports. I'm sure my soon to be law student brother would find a million ways to argue with these two simple rules, but I don't care. As far as I'm concerned, if you pass these two categories, you're a real fan of whatever team you pick.

Go Cubs, Blackhawks, Bears....or whatever you like. Just be real.

Support

It's nice to have a partner that teaches you things in a kind, calm and supportive manner, like today's gchat conversation about our new grill.

me: stupid question...to fill the propane tank do I just pump from the pump into the tank?
Kevin: NO!!!!!!!
you exchange it
for a filled one
me: oh
........ok
Kevin: ha ha ha
me: good thing I asked
Kevin: oh my God
me: well, its not like it comes with instructions
Kevin: I know, but I'm glad you asked
me: you're welcome

Reuniting

Yesterday, I reunited with some people very dear to my heart, and as I stopped and thought about it, I realized they are related.

For starters, my lil' sister came home from studying in Chile for six months. I'm so proud of her for going somewhere off the beaten path, and also incredibly jealous. I've studied in Mexico and Costa Rica, and I'm also a travel junkie. I get antsy if I don't have a trip planned, and I have a life goal of seeing as much of the world as humanly possible. I have a collector's lust for amassing connections with people and unique experiences from as many different societies as possible. My sis traveled throughout South America during her time there, hitting Argentina, Peru, Bolivia, Uruguay (I think) and the northern desert and Patagonia regions of Chile. She spent the last three weeks of her trip backpacking the Inca trail, and met people from all over the world. While I'm happy for her, I'm also very selfishly jealous. I don't know when (or if) I'm going to get to embed myself in a culture the way that she did again.

As some of you know, I teach ELL at a school with students from many different walks of life. Most of the time I love my job, and I'm fascinated by the diverse set of students and teachers that I work with. I also get to use Spanish every day, something that makes me incredibly happy and allows me to connect with a wide array of parents and students. In fact, last night, after dinner with my sis, I stopped by a local bar and caught the tail end of a summer happy hour (gone way late) with my favorite friends from work.

While we were sitting at the bar, we all started talking about the fact that most of us are now tenured and in grad school. For teachers, this means that many of us have put on the "golden handcuffs"-we're moving up the pay scale, and may be pricing ourselves out of other jobs in other districts. In effect, we've consciously or unconsciously acknowledged the fact that we're all probably going to stay at our school for the foreseeable future. As we talked about this, we all realized we had something in common: none of us, when we took our jobs, thought that we'd stay at our school for more than a year. Not because there's anything WRONG with where we teach, but because we are all (like my sister) travel nuts. We figured we'd spend a year or two in our midwestern district, and then go back out into the world. Many of us considered taking jobs teaching English in foreign countries, and almost all of us have plans to visit another country for an extended summer trip in the near future.

Before I met Kev, conversations like these with my work pals would have sent me into a panic. Committing to a job? Cutting back on my months abroad? Buying a HOME instead of planning a trip? Now, while I might travel less, I have a partner in crime to explore with, whether it's different neighborhoods in my city or different countries on a trip we plan together that has meaning for both of us. While I might not be taking trips that reflect my own selfish goals, traveling with Kev leads us to go places and see sights that I may not have chosen, but that lead me to new and different thoughts. I've learned that part of growing up means expanding your vision of where your future will take you, instead of planning your life through the lens of your own vision.

Overscheduled

This morning, Kev set his alarm, got up, and got ready for work. Believe it or not, I actually got up with him to say hello before he set out for his day. If you know me at all, you know that I love to sleep in, and you are shocked. To be fair, I think Kev was too, since I had my rabid lioness morning hair, my glasses, pajamas, and a squint on. I even got out of bed and grabbed some water. More than that, I even had a pleasant chat with him about the Wii tournament starting in his office today and how he better not bring shame on our family name by daring to lose. Why you ask? Because I won't see him for the rest of the day. Or the week.

No, neither one of us is traveling. Somehow, after our relaxing, wonderful, fantastical honeymoon-esque weekend we spent up north at the lake this weekend together, we came home and realized that our weekend is full of plans. Tonight, I'm going to book club and then to see a friend's band play late-night, while Kev stays home and rests up because it's a work night. Tomorrow night I have class and won't be home until 9. Thursday Kev has softball and won't be home until 9ish. The worst part of all of this is that while one of us is out, the other one will be home alone covered in cats. Oops.

I know that weeks like this happen all the time, but for us they usually happen during the school year while I'm working too. I also know that it's not a huge deal, that we will still see each other for a little bit on Wednesday and Thursday evening. There's just a small, irrational part of me that gets nervous when there are a lot of days in a row where we aren't spending any real time together. I used to be Ms. Independent, and now I'm Mrs. No, REALLY, how was your day? I think I get so antsy during weeks like this because it makes me scared that I'm going to miss something important in Kev's life, or that he's not going to "get" something I'm telling him because he wasn't there. I'm neurotic like that. In my heart, I know we're going to be fine, that it's not a huge deal, that it's healthy for us to be separately busy sometimes. In the back of my mind, though, is a little voice nagging at me to get find other moments to make up for it.

Why am I even bothered by this at all? What has happened to me? Has marriage really, *gasp* changed me?

Just a Little Different

I'll be honest, I've never been known to be a super-clean person. Our old place on Roscoe was a pit for a ton of reasons-me being super busy with work and school, the cats shedding profusely, parties that we threw and never really cleaned the way we should have after. The last month that we lived there was the worst-boxes, clothes to donate, and unopened mail everywhere. Kev and I were super busy that month too, trying to pack, going out more than we probably should have, studying like madmen for our finals.

The last few weeks at our new place have brought a big change both in Kev and my habits, and in our relationship as well. Kev has been sort of trying to put his laundry away, and I've been opening my mail as it comes. We've even both been putting daily time into tidying up, and after three weeks, our bedroom still has a floor that you can see. I'm kind of shocked. Since we now own this place, I think we have a greater incentive to keep it looking like a real house, rather than a place that college kids could happily call their own.

Being in the new place also seems to have brought Kev and I closer together. I'm not sure if it's because we've finally achieved a goal that took over so much of our time and sanity for so long, or if it's because we're just settling into married life. We're a little more open and honest about how we're feeling, and since we're pretty broke after the move, we're spending more time cooking or grilling out with friends instead of spending money at crowded bars and snooty restaurants. The tornado pace of the last year, and especially the last 6 months that we've both been in grad school has helped us to prioritize and make the most of the time that we do get to spend together.

This past weekend, Kev and I were talking about this past year, and all the madness that has passed. In one year we got married, started grad school, battled my RA, survived stress at work, and bought a house. Kev turned to me and said he hoped that things would slow down this year, but I somehow think that this is only the beginning.

I'm horrid

So, it's been a month since I last blogged which means I've pretty much killed off all 12 readers I had in my extensive membership. Oopsadoodle. I'm getting back on the blog train NOW though, so today's post will have an update of the past few weeks in the life of Colie and Kev. Details are supplied to you with the help of the OTHER love of my life, my trusty dusty planner.

May 31- June 6th: Kev and I spend Memorial Day weekend outside and eating about 32804 hot dogs each, and hold our last porch drinking and grilling on the sidewalk at our old place on Roscoe. Oh, Roscoe...scene of many parties, pettings of puppies, and pranks. Also the place where Kev popped the question to me a week after we moved in. It was also grad school finals week and the beginning of the Hawks being in the Stanley Cup. Kev about keeled over when he realized he was already taking his first finals 10 weeks after he started grad schools. These are the joys of a university with a quarter system. We also find out that the closing date on our fancy new condo has been pushed back indefinitely, due to the condo association not providing updated docs. Freakin A, we are bummed.

June 7th-June 13th: We send out frantic emails to postpone our painting party, as we will have no home to paint. It is also the last week of my school year, and I am plunged into a frenzy of report card finishing, room packing, and glue-stick padlocking to prevent the shady teachers using my room for summer school from stealing all of my glitter glue, markers, and googly eyes I have hidden in my cabinets. Oh, yeah, and the books too....cause I would be almost as upset about that. My work friends and I celebrate the end of the year with a Metra bar crawl (one bar and one beer at every train stop, then run back to the train to get on the next one), and the Hawks win the Stanley Cup at the exact moment I am felled by a sinus infection that leaves my head feeling like it is full of cement.

June 14th-June 20th: Classes start for summer session I. Due to the joys of the quarter system, each summer session is 5 weeks long and moves twice as fast. Kev takes an online class that makes him miserable and forces him to be chained to group conference calls with his strangers, I mean classmates, and I tiptoe around while he completes a giant marketing simulation that sounds complicated. We close on our new place June 14th and spend the last part of the week painting the with my parents. My dad primes and paints our new kitchen entirely on his own, and climbs on top of our refrigerator to do so. I've never seen the man more flexible. Our kitchen is blue, and the living room turns out a strange shade of grayish lavender pink. Whoops. We stagger around and pack, and somehow I manage to do my homework for my two summer classes. I am repeatedly thankful I decided to work on my masters some more instead of teaching summer school, as punk kids inside on a hot day would surely put me over the edge. On Sunday, June 20th, we hire movers (best money I've ever spent) who invade the Roscoe apt and our new place like hispanic worker ants and move us in under 3 hours. The movers discover I speak Spanish, tell me I have a beautiful body, and ask me if my husband is being good to me "en la cama." My sinus infection turns into some kind of goop that invades my lungs and leaves me hacking like a 90 year old pruny smoker, which is triggered often by running up and down the stairs as I move.

June 21-Present: We spend last week doing the 2380432908 chores that come with moving, setting up our new place, emptying our old. The cats move to our new place and alternately sulk around, get lost and cry, or hide behind boxes and attack us as we walk by. I mow through The Girl who Kicked the Hornet's nest, and decide I'm going to write twitter-sized reviews of every book I read from now on. I do about a billion more pounds of homework, since we are now in summer session midterms for session I, and Kev continually laments the amount of stuff we have filled our new place up with. Last weekend, we have a weekend of glory which involves sushi at a byob where I brought and consumed waaaay too much of the B, went to the cubs/sox game and sat 9 rows behind home plate with Kev's dad, went to a birthday party, got sunburned and rowdy at pride, and saw the Stanley Cup at the parade. This week, I'm going to try to finish unpacking and detox after last weekend's mayhem. I'm also still coughing and need a new planner. Sigh....

So, as you can see folks, I might have been a teensy bit busy, but I'm back. You can all sleep soundly tonight knowing I'm back, and if you are lucky, I'll even post some pics of our new place, and my awesome pics of Lord Stanley's cup at Pride. Also, I just realized our ONE YEAR WEDDING ANNIVERSARY is Sunday....holy crap, people. Holy crap.