If you came over...

We would probably sit together in my sun-drenched living room curled up on the couches. I would apologize for the dog hair and lack of air conditioning in this humid, humid heat. I would offer you cold blueberry green tea in a mason jar. I would tell you that I'm dying to lighten up this room with a fresh coat of paint and that I can't wait to repaint all the trim in a bright white. I'm just waiting for someone to offer their painting skills. I would show you my new dining room table that was made by my boyfriend from the wood of a lane in an old bowling alley. It once served as the center island in my parents' home. I would share my dreams of having an amazing garden filled with flowers, and another full of fresh herbs and vegetables. Do you have a trick for weed removal sans chemicals? I would share my fear of never measuring up to my mother's green thumb. What would you tell me?

Today

I've been substituting in Middle School for a couple months now. It can be awesome, rewarding, and really challenging, in a good way. Other days, like today, it's really hard and frustrating. I had a kid 2nd period and he was a really bad kid. It started with the typical disruptions; not completing his work, talking out of turn (nonstop), wandering the room, annoying other students, etc. This is when I moved his seat to the front to "isolate" him. He believed I had done this for no reason, and that the teacher must have left his name on the list of "kids to watch out for" and this was the only reason I had moved his seat. I explained he was very wrong, there was no list, his name appeared nowhere, and the seat relocation was a direct result of his behavior. After going back and forth a couple times, asking him to please stop moving the desk, to leave it where I had put it, to please get to work, to please be quiet, the other students finally started chiming in asking him to "just stop". Then he started making remarks to and about me, in front of the class. "You're a miserable person and I bet 100% of the people you've ever met or friends you've ever had absolutely hate you." This I wasn't going to take. I'm a pretty strong person and I take a lot of crap from these kids on most days. Thankfully I didn't cry. Maybe I was being too sensitive and taking it too personally, but that's just disrespect. I like to think that I'm a relatively "cool" and "easygoing" substitute, most of the time. I'm only 11-14 years older than the students, I avoid frumpy teacher outfits at all costs (I do think appearance matters somewhat because we are their role models), and we even have some of the same interests, SOME. Oh, and my last name is "Ireland" and they pretty much think it's the sweetest thing they've ever heard. "Are you from Ireland?" I need a witty response to this question that comes at least 4 times each day. Anyway, off topic. But that was the morning. I got worked up, started sweating a bit, but eventually went on with my day. Then comes the afternoon. I'm on hall duty and a student (special needs) comes busting out the door from a classroom across the hall. His teacher is essentially wrestling to get him back inside. He gets loose and I can see at this point being the younger, more agile "adult" in the situation that I should probably step in. He's off so I therefore burst into a full jog after him, the other teacher sort of hobbling behind us. He's getting faster, and faster, at this point thinking it's funny he's got two teachers chasing him. After keeping my speed under control (in the back of my head constantly thinking "no running in the hallways") I pick it up to a full sprint to catch him. I wish I could get the video footage because I'm sure it looked like quite the circus act. Anyway, I catch him. He's complaining his ear hurts, but apparently he's been complaining for a while and the doctor's appointment isn't until later so there's nothing to do at the moment. I say to take a deep breath and take a drink of water, my go-to any time a kid gets upset. He's then hysterically crying, coming in for the hug, and to wipe his tears on my shoulder. He gets a drink of water and we walk back to the classroom arm in arm. ANyway, pointless post, but something I wanted to document. It was a day for the books... or at least the "substituting books"

mini-makeover in our temporary home

The mauve color didn't do it for me. I was hoping for a light grey color to freshen up the bathroom but after shopping the "oops" table at Home Depot it ended up being much more blue than anticipated. Oh well, I'll live with it. It's amazing what a coat of fresh paint can do. I did this in a day, all by myself, and spent next to nothing. The plants came in at around 8 bucks making them the most costly addition to the room and although they're starting to die already (I need to work on that), the simple changes make it an entirely new room.

follow the leader

The best place to be... on the back of the bike, without a worry in the world. Summer nights like these are my favorite. It's in my nature to be in control. I've always been a leader. The tables turn when I hop on the tandem and I'm okay with it.

Change

On a Tuesday evening 3 years ago, I would most likely be racing home from the mall with my latest Forever 21 purchase. I would shower, slip into my newest dress, and be ready to go by 6:00pm. With a beverage in hand (usually cheap beer), I'd rush to the train stop with a couple friends to take the train north a few stops. Tuesday night was made for beating the clock. We'd stock up on 50 cent beers in mini plastic cups and the price would slowly increase as the hours went on. It was usually very hot, faces glistening and shiny with sweat, bathroom lines 40 girls long... PURE HEAVEN. Or so I thought. It was fun, a lot of fun, while it lasted. I think I missed a total of 3 Tuesdays the entire summer and I'm sure it was with valid cause, ya know, torrential downpours, mandatory prior obligations, or a cooler party (although it was rare that something could be cooler than beating the clock). We always told ourselves we'd be sure to leave before the lights went on around last call but it rarely happened. If we were lucky that night, we would have caught the latest train home. If we were unlucky that meant I'd be begging my newly licensed 17-year old-brother to take the 20 minute drive to come pick us up. He usually would, bless his soul. Without fail, the night would end raiding the refrigerator for the most delicious leftovers we could find. I don't regret those nights, not one bit. But I can't say I miss them much either.

On a Tuesday evening now, you can find me relaxed on the couch, possibly(probably) in my pajamas by 8:00pm, with a glass of red wine, reading a book or chatting with my parents. My boyfriend comes over, we'll eat a late dinner, watch a bit of TV, eat ice cream and I'm in bed by 11:00pm. I'm only 24 but I've got grandma-like tendencies. Is there something wrong with that? Maybe. But for now, I'll take it. Times, they are a changing.

Today, I'm missing these

Summer Life

Took this picture today while flying high with Point Pleasant Parasail. This is the place I'm happy to call home.