Winter is WonderFALL.

I have an issue with balance. And clumsiness. And falling. And awkwardnesss in general.

From reading my past blog posts, this should come as no surprise.

Here are a few events that have transpired over the past week... I hope you find them entertaining, because looking back at them, I do...

1. This one does not have to deal with my clumsiness but more so with how attracted creepy men are (or seem to be) to me. I don't know what it is, seriously... I also don't mean to sound conceited... but I feel like whenever there is kind of a creeper at either a party or in a class, they are drawn to me. Unfortunate, really... maybe I'm too nice? Nah, that can't be it. Well, there is this man in my printmaking class. I don't know exactly how old he is, but I am guessing maybe in his early thirties... well, a few years ago, he was actually in my art fundamentals class. He yelled at me one time for looking at his drawing (while he was drawing...) Hmmm, yeah. I try really hard not to judge people... and I do my absolute best not to be rude or short with obnoxious individuals... but it is REALLY difficult not to just be completely annoyed and freaked out by this guy. Every day in class, he asks me about my most recent facebook status. Now, I know that by putting it up on Facebook, I should be expecting people to see it, but it is just weird when I post something that says, "I have the greatest friends" or "I'm thankful for mashed potatoes" and he asks/tells me, "Who are your friends? What did they do to make you think they are so great?" or "I like stuffing more than mashed potatoes..." Sometimes it takes me a minute to realize he was stalking me on Facebook. Let's just say, he is not my "friend" anymore. He is also one of the most proper speakers ever... He could be asking something as simple as, "why did you decide to draw an old man?" and it comes out like this: "Beth, may I ask you something? Where and how did you acquire the concept of etching the elderly male for this upcoming project?" I am all about proper English, but I am also all about understanding exactly what you are saying as soon as you say it. I find myself either asking him to repeat his questions or having to pause a second to think about exactly what he is asking me. Another side note, he is like 6'5'', almost 300 pounds, bald, with old man glasses. Okay... Sorry, tangent, I just had to describe him. So this was the situation that transpired between me and this man last week:

J: Beth, what, may I ask, is the exact date you will be graduating?
Me: The 18th.
J: Please forgive me because I know you have already disclosed this information, but what field are you studying?
Me: Art and Education... remember? I just had that gallery opening?
J: So what do you plan on doing with those two areas in future years? They seem to be very separate and distinct from one another.
Me: I want to teach art.
J: I imagine you will not be financially stable with teaching, am I correct?
Me: I know many people who are teachers and doing just fine.
J: I can't imagine teaching is especially rewarding. Do you think an art background causes you downfall?
Me: Why would it cause me downfall if I am teaching art?
J: Because it is not a financially stable career path either.
Me: ... Not entirely true, but whatever.

and at the end of class...

J: Beth, may I ask you your plans for this upcoming weekend?
Me: Not sure yet... packing and studying probably.
J: Well, would you be interested in joining me for an evening of dinner and wine?
Me: Ummm, no thank you.

Truth. He asked me on a date (and wine?) after telling me that I basically chose a sucky, financially-insecure career path... Of course I said no. My friend who sits next to me in class almost burst out laughing since he was witness to this entire situation. Awkward? VERY.

2. I decided to go to the Creighton basketball game on Thursday with some really good girl friends of mine that I just haven't seen in awhile due to our busy schedules. Well, Saturday (in case you weren't in Omaha) was just a ridiculous day of weather... SUPER windy, SUPER cold, and SUPER snowy. We had to park in a far away lot at the Quest Center... and because of the weather, we all SPRINTED once we got out of the car. Well, about halfway from the car to the door, I trip as I am crossing the road because I didn't see the curb. I FACEPLANTED and slid in snow in the middle of the road we were crossing. Me friends? They made sure no cars were coming and and kept on running. Yep... clumsy me. My jeans were damp for the rest of the game...

3. On Sunday, I went to the grocery store to pick up some food for my annual ugly sweater Christmas party I have with friends from Church. Well, because it had snowed the day before, the parking lot was just filled with that gross gray slush.

Gross Gray Slush + Shoes with no traction = FALL

Yep, I slipped and landed straight on my back in the nasty slush. People around me came running up to make sure I was okay... it was all silent worries and then I heard it... a four year old DYING of laughter as to what I just did. Best thing about it? I went right inside and got my groceries... I balanced on the cart on my way out.

Single and Ready to Mingle

I am single. True. But, believe it or not (this is a major nudge to my family), it is not the end of the world. I am okay with being single... OH MY GOSH, I am happy being single?! WHAT? How is that possible?! Well, it is. Get over it.

Unfortunately, I feel like this fact about my personal life is frequently brought to my attention by my loved ones (cough cough family cough). I have come to terms with the fact that I am not dating anyone. I haven't seriously dated someone in a long time. I know the people in my life don't seriously MEAN to bring up my "independence" on numerous occasions, and at this point, it kind of has been a long standing joke rather than a serious nudge for me to find a man and settle down, but just being honest, sometimes it gets obnoxious... and awkward...

So here is the most recent story:

Back in March, my sisters and I got professional photos taken. We were planning on compiling them in some sort of matter and then giving those photos to my parents for their anniversary (this past September). Well, Jackie was kind of in charge of the whole thing and thought it would be cool to make a photo book for them. I completely agreed! We decided to give them the photo book at my art show when the entire family was together. We gave the book to Denny and Gail (insert the swooning over it)... So glad they liked it! But here's the kicker: Yes, we looked good in those photos, TRUTH... but Jackie, being the creator of this photo book online, was given the opportunity to write her own little copyright notice in the book... here is what it read:

"All rights reserved. No part of this book may be copied or reproduced. Why? Because I said so. So don't copy it. Plus, copying it means that you want to stare at the Cavender girls more. Why else would you want to copy it? I mean, sure, they're cute, but isn't that creepy to make a copy of something in order to just stare at pictures of people? If you must copy it, then copy it so you can look at Beth. She's single and ready to mingle. Amanda and Jackie are taken."

Nice. Glad that this will be a part of that book FOREVER. You might as well write "Dog Lady 4Eva" (I hate cats).

Am I being dramatic? Probably. Is this copyright notice awkward... No doubt. Thanks, family.

Fatty McFatFat

Not being down on myself or super self-conscious, but I know I am not the smallest or skinniest person ever. It’s just the fact of life… I have curves. As Jessie Bennie would say, “Beth, you’re just a regular-sized little person”. True.

Well, the other day, I was at Walmart just picking up a couple things. I went to the checkout line, and the guy ringing me up was kind of weird and was just trying to make super friendly conversation. I, trying to be nice, responded to his questions and comments about my purchases. Well, a girl behind me in line started talking about how cold she was. The cashier turned to her and said, “You’re cold?!” She responded, “Yeah, well, I have like no body fat so I get cold really easily.” He turned to me and said, “Well at least she isn’t super bony… I mean, I can’t imagine how cold YOU must be! You’re SUPER bony… Ha, just kidding…”

I think he just called me fat.

Really? Did that just happen? My response was silence… I gave him an evil glare and just grabbed my things and left.

Next time something like that happens, I am knocking all the gum and candy down before I leave. That’ll show 'em.

Rebel with a Cause.

I wish I had more time to blog... but because I have now taken (almost) permanent residence in the art studio so I could work on the pieces for my show (in 25 days... AH), I have not had much time to blog about my life on my other blog or about my awkward moments on this blog... but nonetheless, I have had some very awkward moments since my last post.

So, now I am presenting to you on my small break from art making, TWO awkward moments. Enjoy. This is quite a treat... for both me and hopefully you.

Well, like I said, I have taken ALMOST permanent residence in my art studio, which is on campus in the art building. Well, I spend a TON of time there. I try to get there between 7 am and 9 am most mornings and I try to stay for at least 6 hours. Some days, I am literally there for 12 hours. Well, one Friday night, I was really focused and didn't want to leave. I had been in the studio since 10 am at it was already about 11 pm when I decided I was going to stay for a few more hours. It never occurred to me that this might be a problem... I figured, "Well, you have to have an ID card to even get into this studio, I'm not bothering anyone or being loud, staying till the middle of the night will not be a big deal." 11:50 rolled around and in walked public safety... this is what happened next:

PS: The building closes in ten minutes. You'll need to pack up your things and head out before then.

Me: Um, I am actually a BFA student and I have an art show next month, I am here all alone just working on my project. Would it be okay if I stayed a little bit longer?

PS: No, sorry, you'll have to leave. School policy.

Me: Seriously?

PS: Yep. (turns around and walks out)

On normal circumstances, I would spend a couple more minutes working on my art, clean-up, then leave like a good, compliant girl. I was NOT feeling compliant... and I was very annoyed he disturbed me in the middle of painting and was making me leave. I decided to stay... but how?

I hid. Yep... I turned off the lights in my studio, took my computer into the bathroom right next door, and stayed in there for 20-25 minutes looking up the national geographic pictures of the day and reading PostSecret entries. By the time I walked out of the bathroom, the building was officially closed... I was in the clear!

I went back into my art studio and went back to work... but I obviously forgot about the HUGE windows in the studio (without curtains). At 1:20, I hear the studio door open again... and in walked the same public safety officer that gave me my warning... this is how THAT conversation went:

PS: I told you an hour and a half ago that you needed to leave.

Me: I know, I am really sorry, but I have so much work to do and I am really not bothering anyone.

PS: It's school policy... It's MY job to make sure nothing shady is going on.

Me: Nothing shady is going on. I am just painting by myself... not smoking in the bathrooms, stealing materials, or destroying property. I know there are a lot of other things going on on campus that are way more serious than me being in this studio.

PS: I don't appreciate your tone... do you know I could report you to student integrity for insubordination? Pack up your things NOW.

I rolled my eyes... I know, I know, I shouldn't have... but what happened after this? He physically ESCORTED me OUT of the building, watched me get into my car, and drive off. What a PUNK. The one time I feel I had a legitimate cause to break rules, I get escorted by public safety and threatened with a visit to student integrity... dumb.

Second story? Not as good... BUT awkward nonetheless. I just finished my shopping at Baker's (a grocery store here in Omaha), and after I loaded everything into my car, I looked to my left... at the back corner of the parking lot, I saw a man and a woman loading a grocery cart into their van. Yep... an entire grocery cart. I could not help but watch them. After about 15 seconds or so, they stopped, looked over at me, and I immediately felt awkward (this was a sketchy Baker's...), got into my car, and drove off... right past them... and they STARED me down. I made sure they didn't follow me home. Why would someone want a grocery cart? Hmm...

Sprinklers.

I had a horrible day yesterday... really, just horrendous. That's a completely different story though. But for background sake, I was on campus in the art building from 8am until 10:30 pm. I love art, but this was not my idea of a fun time, but whatever.

Outside the art building, there is this little field/lawn area right next to the street where I parked. Now, there is a sidewalk that goes around the entire field to the street, but it takes you way out of your way. When I normally park on the street, I just cut across the field and walk on the grass. No biggie. A little bit of a shortcut. Well, after last night, I may rethink taking this shortcut...

When I left, like I said before, it was 10:30 pm and super dark out. I walked outside and began walking through the lawn to my car while simultaneously texting. Well, as soon as I was a little less than halfway across the lawn, all the automatic sprinklers in the grass come up and turn on. I am SURROUNDED by sprinklers at this point and just getting soaked. I just ran and tried getting to my car as fast as I could. My bag, all my papers, my clothes, but luckily not my phone, were drenched. Best part of me getting caught in the sprinklers? Public safety rode by on their bikes and just laughed at me.

Wow... first week of school and I am already making a fool of myself. Awesome.

Yet another retail adventure...

As most of you know, especially due to the mass numbers of blogs I have written about my current employer, I work in retail. I have discovered that working in retail is SO much more than just selling clothes and accessories... it means you have to deal with some of the weirdest people on the face of the planet. I have to deal with stupid questions, awkward comments, and embarrassing situations at least three days a week. LUCKY ME. Here are a few of my most recent encounters with some of the shoppers...

1. An older man came in with his two, YOUNG, female escorts and allotted them each $1500 to spend. Together, they spent $700. Now, If I was a female escort and obviously did not care about this man or how I was perceived, I would have spent EVERY LAST PENNY of my $1500 share... but I'm just saying.

2. I helped yet another older couple pick out lingerie. I never know what to do when this happens... I for sure blush, I know that. I just got really awkward because they weren't really using the best language or the most appropriate terms when discussing the lingerie, it's fit, the purpose, etc... you get what I'm trying to say. But without going into too much detail, the husband dropped over $300 on his wife... I am one darn good salesperson.

3. Chubby Little kid: "Ummmm... do, ummm, do you, ummm bathroom, um, have a bathrooooom?!" By the end, he was basically screaming. Sorry to tell you kid, but we don't... and it's not polite to scream at people.

4. A regular shopper, let's call her Leslie, called the other day... and I was the lucky one to answer. She asks for one of our managers who wasn't there... "That's okay, YOU can help me, Ah hahahahahaha!" She starts naming off all these things she is looking for: different items, designers, and companies. "Just set them aside for me! Pick out what you think will look good!" I had no idea what she looked like. "I'm a mom though though... and you know, things kind of shift and sag. Hahahahaha!" Ew. Way too much information. "I also get hot flashes so nothing too heavy, hahaha!" Wow, she laughed a lot... actually it was more like a cackle. After about ten minutes on the phone with her, we finally hung up and I began my search for the mom-like, anti-hot flash clothing in size I have no clue. I picked out about twenty different items and she stopped in about an hour later to try them on. First of all, I guess this woman used to be a model, so in her heels, she was about 6'2''... WAY shorter than me. Good thing I grabbed mediums and larges. The entire time she was trying things on, she would just be laughing all by herself and making beyond random comments. At one point, she came out to ask my opinion on a top, and she looks me dead in the eye and says, "Hey, do you have any drinks in the back? Would you mind running over next door to M's pub and grabbing me a cocktail? You know, long day with the kids, hahahaha!" I had no idea if she was serious or not... I didn't get her one though. She ended up dropping a significant amount of money, but she was one of the craziest and spastic people I have ever met in my entire life... with the craziest cackle.

5. What a mom said to me when I was helping her and her daughter find a homecoming dress: "These are all so cute! How are we supposed to choose? What are you wearing to homecoming?" She was looking straight at me for my response... yep, once again I was mistaken for a teenager... "Oh, I am actually 22." "Oh, I'm sorry! Well, good news is that if you wanted to crash a homecoming, no one would notice!" Strangest compliment I have gotten in a long time.

Winking.

Here's a little fun fact about Beth Cavender:

She feels really awkward when people wink at her. She gets all flustered and tends to blush really bad... especially when boys do it. Don't know why, it just happens. It reminds her of creepy men who have dirty minds.

If you wink at her, she will get awkward.

Why Parents Drink

This is an amazing hilarious, and beyond awkward, email I received from my oldest sister. I normally HATE forwards, but I was really intrigued by the title, "Why Parents Drink". Sounded funny. So I read on.

After reading this, I thought, "OH MY GOSH. HOW BRILLIANT!?" I really wanted to do something similar to my family (mainly my dad or mom) after, but then I realized that my sister sent it to them too. I am plotting for something in the future. Let me know if you have any great ideas for me!

Why Parents Drink A father passing by his son's bedroom was astonished to see that his bed was nicely made and everything was picked up. Then he saw an envelope, propped up prominently on the pillow that was addressed to 'Dad.' With the worst premonition he opened the envelope with trembling hands and read the letter. Dear Dad: It is with great regret and sorrow that I'm writing you. I had to elope with my new girlfriend because I wanted to avoid a scene with Mom and you. I have been finding real passion with Stacy and she is so nice. But I knew you would not approve of her because of all her piercing, tattoos, tight motorcycle clothes and the fact that she is much older than I am. But it' s not only the passion...Dad she's pregnant. Stacy said that we will be very happy. She owns a trailer in the woods and has a stack of firewood for the whole winter. We share a dream of having many more children. Stacy has opened my eyes to the fact that marijuana doesn't really hurt anyone. We'll be growing it for ourselves and trading it with the other people that live nearby for cocaine and ecstasy. In the meantime we will pray that science will find a cure for AIDS so Stacy can get better. She deserves it. Don't worry Dad. I'm 15 and I know how to take care of myself. Someday I'm sure that we will be back to visit so that you can get to know your grandchildren. Love, Your Son John PS. Dad, none of the above is true. I'm over at Tommy's house. I Just wanted to remind you that there are worse things in life than a Report card That's in my center desk drawer. I love you. Call me when it's safe to come home

Indie Athleticism

It might not come as a big surprise to most when I say that I am sort of the “philosophical” type… slightly pensive, artistic, and introspective. Most would assume that I would rather read a book, listen to my weird, indie music, or paint a picture than anything else. Those people would also assume that because of this, I have no athletic ability. That my boyfriend jeans, band t-shirts, and thick-framed glasses would get in the way. That my Toms shoes might not let me run as fast as I would like. That I might fall (very likely) and injure my right hand, making art an impossible task. That I would cry my emo tears and write a deep, meaningful song on my acoustic guitar about my depression and sense of “lostness” in this vast, empty world.

Well… you are not 100% correct. I don’t play the guitar.

Ha, I’m kidding.

But seriously.

I actually love sports. I am actually pretty competitive and pretty decent once I get into whatever I am playing. There are of course some sports I enjoy more than others, but I will honestly never turn down the opportunity to watch a game/match on TV or in person. Even in regards to playing sports, I will play mostly anything… unless it’s basketball. I honestly really suck at basketball. However, my past might not be the best showing of my athleticism but rather support the stereotype that most have of me. And thus, another BETHISM is born.

My parents signed me up for a bunch of sports when I was younger. Following in the footsteps of my sisters, I played soccer, softball, and I was a swimmer. I legitimately think I had ADHD. I was so hyperactive, outgoing, and had a really hard time concentrating. I remember my soccer coach telling me one day before a game that he wanted me to focus more… so he made me goalie. Well, in my opinion, if a kid is hyperactive and has a hard time staying still and concentrating, you should be running them on the field as much as possible. Yeah, life would have agreed too. I was a HORRIBLE goalie. I chased butterflies just to keep moving. Same with softball… awesome pitcher and shortstop, but the minute you put me in the outfield, I drew pictures in the sand. Swimming? I think I was just too short for it… I lasted until 5^th grade with softball and 7^th grade with soccer. Oh, and don’t let me forget to tell you about the time my dad gave me too many lemon drops before a soccer game and some girl kicked the ball right at my stomach and I threw up everywhere. Truth.

Oh, and I did gymnastics… for a year… and then I accidentally peed my pants on the trampoline and was too embarrassed to go back. And no, this was not when I was a teenager.

I also a danced for 11 years. Ballet, jazz, and hip-hop mostly. This was really where I should have stayed.

Picture this: Gym class in 8^th grade. We are playing kickball. I really didn’t want to play. Not because I didn’t like kickball but more so because I didn’t like a few of my team members. Yep, super mature, I know. I went to play outfield. Well, the people on the other team really sucked and were just bunting and tripping over the huge kickball inning after inning. I was so bored and really annoyed so I basically just stopped paying attention and began to space out. I don’t know how long I spaced out for, but the next thing I knew, I just heard, “Watch out!” I looked up and all I saw falling down from the sky was that large red orb, that demon kickball. Yep, it hit me right in the face. Me? I fell to the ground… right along with that kickball.

After the mile run, a boy threw up on my shoe. How people throw up after running one mile just boggles me.

Another incident? Tennis. Okay, tennis is really the one sport I really don’t enjoy at all. I hate watching it AND playing it. But naturally, gym teachers love forcing you to play games and sports you hate doing… so, in gym we played tennis. Well, as I was walking to the court I was assigned to, I accidentally walked right in front of the machine that shoots out the tennis balls. I got hit right in the back and fell down. This seems to be a theme. Yeah, obviously 8^th grade wasn’t my best year.

Instead of quitting swimming all together, I decided to start diving when I was in 8^th grade. I remember my high school diving team experience like it was yesterday… running laps and laps around the track, doing bleacher exercises, countless lunges, and practicing dive after dive after dive until I got it perfectly. I was so beat up after pre-training that I had bruises running from my Achilles’ tendon up to my lower back from hitting the water. This wasn’t just me, but everyone on my team. My English teacher has suspicions of child abuse at my home so she referred me to the guidance counselor. Unfortunately, I had to break the news that it was not my mom or my dad but rather my diving coach and that gosh-forsaken pool. Not only did I have bruises but I dislocated 7 fingers, both of my ankles, and I cracked my head open… all from hitting the board. My “favorite” memory? Practicing 2 ½’s. Only one other girl could do this on the team and she was phenomenal. My coach was a crazy person, and whenever someone hit the water wrong, started crying, or said they didn’t want to do a dive anymore, he would, inevitably, make us do it again. So, when I did my two and a half and hit the water harder than I ever had before… on my FACE… I started crying. He walked over to me, looks straight at me and asks, “You wanna do that again?” I, in between sobs, stammer out, “y… ye… yesssss.” He just started laughing and didn’t make me do it again. Yes became my routine answer after this trick had work.

Even in intramurals throughout high school and college, my athleticism did not seem to be quite up to par. Like the time I was thrown out of my flag football game freshman year at Creighton, when someone tackled me in ultimate frisbee and pulled my pants down with them as they fell to the ground. Or the time I ran into a giant electrical box chasing after one of those fireworks that shoots out a parachute.

I love sports… but sometimes, especially during these times of proven Bethisms, it might just be better to proclaim that I am just your average, indoor, artsy type.

Nocturnal Road Trip

I am currently back in Chicago. I haven't been home since Christmas, so I thought it would be nice to return back to my stomping grounds for a weekend and just spend some time with my mom and oldest sister. Well, I am not the most rational person in the world, so the planning of this trip home was, to say the least, not that well thought out. I had two options in my head: 1) to leave right after work (at 9:30 pm) on Thursday night or 2) leave super early on Friday morning. I debated back and fourth for awhile, taking into consideration a number of things. It's about an 8-hour drive from Omaha. If I left by 10 pm once I got home from work, I would have to drive through the night and I wouldn't get in until about 6 am. However, if I got in at that time, my mom would already be at work and I could just essentially sleep until she got home, that way, when she got home, I would be ready to spend the rest of the afternoon with her. The thought of driving through the night did not sound appealing, however, so I considered the second option. If I left really early, I would be all rested up, wouldn't have to drive eight hours in the dark, and would get home at about the same time my mom would be getting home from work. Well, for some reason, I just decided to leave Thursday night after work and drive through the night... again, I am irrational in so many ways.

Here is how my trip went.

I left a little before 10 pm by the time I went back to my apartment, ate something super quick, and grabbed some last minute things before my adventure. Now, I don't know how many have actually driven to Chicago from Omaha, but the drive really sucks. Normally I don't mind it too much because it is a good time for me think about things, clear my head, pray and listen to some sermons, and bust out to whatever music I want, but even with these things taken into consideration, the drive is still awful. ESPECIALLY the two-hour trek to Des Moines. For some reason, those first two hours are just the worst. They just drag on and on and on. Once I make it to Des Moines, it normally goes by pretty fast. Well, luckily my good friend Josh called me and stayed on the phone with me for 45-minutes on my way to Des Moines, but after that, things started going downhill...

In Des Moines, I stopped at a gas station for coffee #1. After I filled my car up with gas, I walked up to the station and outside was one of the employees smoking. I thought this man was going to cough up a lung... he was just coughing SO hard and it completely grossed me out, but I walked passed him and went inside. I got my coffee, a bottle of water, and went to the register to pay. The man walked inside once he realized I was waiting and began to ring my things up. Right before I handed him my money, he looks at me and says, "I'm sorry, I think I'm going to be sick..." and low-and-behold, he grabbed a trashcan and just lost it. Yep, he threw up in front of me. There was a sink nearby and I grabbed him some papertowels and water to clean up. After I made sure he was okay, I just handed him my $5 and told him to keep the change. I left, got back into my car, and was back on the interstate ready to face the remaining 6 hours of my trip home... and then 10 miles later, I realized I left my coffee at the gas station. GOSH DANG IT. This was going to be a long trip.

Here is a series of other events that occurred on my trip out:
- I hit a bat. Yep, I hit a bat. It flew right into my windshield and freaked the heck out of me. I have only hit on animal before with my car in my entire life, so I was a little traumatized.
- I had this ongoing fear that I was either going to get in a car accident involving two creepy semi-drivers who were stalking me, that I was going to be raped by a semi driver, or fear that my front two tries would fall off my car, I would fly through the window, and then get run over by my car and then my head would get run over by a semi. I don't know what it is about semis, but I obviously have an immense fear of them and their stereotypical handlers. I blame this entire fearful situation to Josh Laughlin.
- I was nervous I was going to hit a deer. There is an insane number of deer in Iowa, so driving at night and passing by numerous scenes of "deer splatterings" on the interstate, I was nervous something like that would happen to me. Obviously I am just living in fear.
- My iPod broke. That sucked. I went old school and just listened to a crapload of CD's. It was pretty great.
- I started getting SUPER giddy at about 3 in the morning... like just laughing to myself, singing super loud, and just going nuts. Pretty glad no one was there to witness it because I probably should be really embarrassed.
- I had a pretty awesome discussion with a FedEx truck driver when I got coffee #3 in DeKalb, Illinois. We were both waiting for the new pot of coffee to finish brewing an he looks down at my feet. He notices my tattoo and asks me what the scripture was. I told him what it was and he just kept asking me questions like why I decided to get it, why I got it in that specific spot, what those verses mean to me, etc. After telling me about this, he told me, "Well, I thought I was going to get a Bible verse tattoo too. You know, John 3:16." Then he started going on and on about how that verse talks about being a light in the world. I felt bad because that isn't at all what that verse talks about, but I just listened to him talk. He was a pretty funny and goofy guy. Interesting talk with him about faith and life.

I got home at 6 am... it's funny how I left Omaha just when the sun completely went down and I arrived in Chicago right after sunrise.

Then I slept till 2 pm.

NEVER doing that again.

Beef doors, obnoxious kids, and other absurdities.

I really need to be better at blogging on a more regular basis. Dang my frugalness and refusing to pay for internet in my apartment. Anyways, here is a small collection of some of my most recent awkward moments:

SOME MORE QUOTES FROM MY MIDDLE SCHOOL STUDENTS (I just found these in one of my notebooks... I obviously did not want to forget about them):


Teryn: "Hey Miss Cavender, you wanna see my tattoo?"
Me: "You have a tattoo?"
Teryn: "Yeah, my mom paid for it." **Lifts up his sleeve and on his forearm, 'tattoo' is written in pen**... "Yep, She bought the pen."


Levi: "Miss Cavender, today, you look like an elf."
Mason: "How is that any different from any other day?"
Me: "Wow, that's rude."
Mason: "Good thing Christmas is my favorite holiday."
Levi: ".... I prefer Thanksgiving."


Camerion: "Can I have that portrait you just drew?"
Me: "No, I need it for an example when I actually start teaching my own classes. Why do you want it?"
Camerion: "What? Please? I promise I won't throw darts at it... I might draw a mustache though..."


Markerius: "I can't wait to get married."
Me: "Don't rush into anything, you have plenty of time."
Markerius: "Oh don't worry... I'm just always hungry and I need someone to make and bring me food."


A couple of unfortunate events that just happened at a recent Omaha Beef Game:


So, I was just leaning up against a wall next to the concession area eating a hot dog. My friends Alex and Ravi were in line to get more food so I just decided to stay out of the way and wait to the side. Well, literally 2 minutes after the boys get in line, some random guy comes up to me and says, "Hey, you sittin' with anyone at the game?" "Oh... ummm, yeah I am. Just waiting for them. They are in line." "Well, if you wanna escape and hang out with us (points at his homies), you are totally welcome to." "Thanks, but i'll pass." Really dude? You really thought that I attended Omaha Beef games alone? No thanks.


I have a horrible tendency to be really clumsy and fall into things. Ravi and Alex have a horrible tendency to be really obnoxious and push me around. Well, every time the Beef scored a touchdown, they would both push and shove me... it probably didn't help that I was sitting between them. Well, we decided to leave the game a little early. As we were walking through the hallway, the Beef scored again. Naturally, Ravi decided to shove me again... keeping up the tradition I guess. Well, he shoved me right into a door... as a man was walking out of it. I slammed into this opening door and the man on the other side gave me the most confused look ever. I awkwardly apologized as Rav and Al laughed at me. Thanks, great friends.



I LOVE DOWNTOWN OMAHA. MOST OF ALL, I LOVE ALL THE DIFFERENT RESTAURANTS AND PLACES TO GET TOGETHER WITH FRIENDS TO JUST CHILL. TED AND WALLY'S, A HOMEMADE ICE CREAM PARLOR, IS PARTICULARLY ONE OF MY FAVORITE PLACES. I WAS THERE WITH MY FRIENDS MOLLY AND KRISTIN, SAYING MY GOODBYES BEFORE KRISTIN MOVED AWAY. THIS IS A REAL CONVERSATION THAT OCCURED AT OUR GOODBYE SESSION:

Japanese kid (with an EXTREMELY heavy accent): "Um, excuse me, can I get picture?" (looking straight at me)
Me: "Um, no thanks."
JK: "I a student. One picture?"
Me: "Sorry, no."
JK: "But I form Japan."
Me: "Yeah, I know. No thanks."
JK and all his foreign friends: **Hysterical laughter**
Molly: "Wow... that was awesome."

DRIVING HOME FROM SOME ERRANDS, AN OLDER MAN IN AN SUV ROLLS DOWN HIS WINDOW AND STARTS WAVING AT ME TO ROLL DOWN MINE WHILE WE WERE BOTH STOPPED AT A STOP LIGHT. I JUST ASSUMED HE NEEDED DIRECTIONS... NOPE:

Me: "Can I help you with something?"
Man: "Yeah, do... you think you could show me some leg?"
Me: (Absolutely DISGUSTED look on my face) "No."
Man: "Oh c'mon, it's hot."
Me: (I begin to roll my window up and shaking my head vigorously in disapproval)

Really? The neverending question for my life: Why is it that I attract the BIGGEST creeps.

Middle School: PART II (Need I Say More?)

Here is another part to the middle school madness/awkwardness. My students are amazing hilarious... and awful.

Tyreshia: I gots to write alllll that down? DAngggggggg.

Teryn: Miss Cavender, whats your name?

Me: Miss Cavender.

Teryn: Stop playin’ lady, I meant your first name.

Me: I’ll tell you my last day here.

Teryn: … okay. You look like a Shaniqua.

Me: Wow, you are really good at guessing, Teryn.

Teryn: I know right? You is so black.

Alex: Miss Cavender, what kind of music do you listen to?

ME: I listen to mostly rock and alternative.

Alex: Wher’d you grow up? Kentucky? Hillbilly.

Me: Are you kidding me? Rock is not hillbilly.

Alex: Whatever, Billy Ray Cyrus.

Austin: You have Husky eyes.

Marvin: AHHHH HA! He just called you a doooggggg!

Tyreshia: MMMM girl, that’s cute. (She says this about basically anything any girl does in class.)

RD: Are you rich?

Me: I’m not poor.

RD: Rich people always say that. Are you Warren Buffet rich?

Austin: Miss Cavender, why is the overhead still on?

Me: Oh, I forgot that it was. I’ll turn it off after I get your bellwork graded.

Austin: Can I turn it off?

Me: No, don’t worry about it. Go do your work.

Austin: Ugh, fine. I don’t need the exercise anyways.

Me: … Was that a comment made toward me?

Austin: ….

Me: Was that a fat joke?

Alex: DUDE, you’re in a hole! HA.

Me: Hey Austin, guess who gets docked for effort points today? YOU! Congrats.

Nandi is probably one of the quietest girls I have ever met In my entire life… but after one boy kept on bothering her and other students during class, this was her outburst: SHUT UP, DONKEY!

Dejion: You don’t like me, do you Miss Cavender?

Me: Why would assume I didn’t like you?

Dejion: Your face. You never have to say anything… I just know.

Teryn: Misssss CAVENDERRRRRRR!

ME: TERYNNNNNNNN.

Jack: Wow, I can tell you’re still a kid.

Me: What? How?

Jack: You just MOCKED him. Don’t get me wrong, I liked it… and he completely deserves it. Ass.

Pharoah: Miss Cavender, can I touch your hair?

Surrayah: Have you ever seen 'bad girls club'?

Me: No.

Surrayah: You seem like you’d be on that show. ‘Specially since you were born in Cali.

Me: Why do you pick fights with everyone?

DaTrion: I don’t pick fights with everyone, you is crazy. You pick fights with everyone.

Me: You’re doing it right now.

DaTrion: Yeah, I was just doin’ that ‘cause I’d knew It would bother you.

In a conversation about some hot wing restaurant

DaTrion: It’s so hot, you can’t even explain it, it’s so hot. I mean SO hot… like you wouldn’t even know, it’s so hot.

Morgan: So… I’m guessing it’s hot.

Teryn: Have you ever had any students disrespect you, Miss Cavender?

Me: Yeah.

Teryn: Really? Who would disrespect you? Gosh danggggg, I’d punch ‘em in the face. If you want, you can hire me as your bodyguard and I’d take care of ‘em for you.

Middle School: PART I (Need I Say More?)

I just realized that I have never posted anything that highlights my time student teaching in my middle school!

Think back to middle school... the years of acne, braces, and awkwardly detailed sex ed classes. The times when a kid farted in class, everyone laughed, thus keeping them distracted for the rest of the class period. The years of raging hormones and efforts of self-discovery. Seriously though, middle school sucked. I know I was awkward... and even if you deny it, you were awkward too.

I have SO many stories to tell from my student teaching experience thus far. But, to save time, I am just going to write out some of my favorite moments, the most memorable quotes, and some little details about some of my students.

Here's the set up: I am teaching 7th, 8th, and 8th honors art at a local lower income public school. Most kids are African American. I have a lot of ESL (English as a Second Language) and ELL students. They are basically all taller than I am.

Teryn: Miss Cavender, what was your first job?

Me: I was a swim instructor and a lifeguard.

Devont'ae: Yeah, that seems fitting for you.

Me: How is that?

Devont'ae: I mean, you seem like... well, you're in shape... I mean you look like you have the figure for it... like you look good, I mean in shape... (stammering and stuttering through this)

Me: .......

Jack: Wow, Devont'ae. Tell us how you really feel.

Jack: Why are your eyes white?

Me: They aren't white.

Jack: Yeah they are.

Me: You're in art class, what color are my eyes?

Jack: ... white.

Me: ... And I have failed as your art teacher.

Me: Megan, how was visiting your twin in Minneapolis this weekend? (her and her sister were separated at birth and just got in contact.. crazy but true.)

Megan: Good! We had fun.

Me: Are you two anything alike?

Megan: Well, not really... she likes to play outside and I don't...

Me: ... oh... anything else that's different?

Megan: ... well, she likes dogs and I don't.

Me: Well, I guess I could see how that would be difficult.

Tyreshia: You's a party girl, ain't you?

Me: Why did you even bring that up? Get back to work, please.

Tyreshia: Yeah you isssss... you is craaaaaaaazy. You be on one of those party block shows. Hollaaaaa.

Brandon: Miss Cavender, what is the chance of one of your students getting your number?

Me: One in a million.

Brandon: So you're saying there's a chance?

Me: Um, absolutely not... wait, did you just quote 'Dumb and Dumber'?

Brandon: Yep.

Me: Nice.

Capria: Miss Cavender?

Me: Yes Capria?

Capria: If I tell you something, do you promise not to get mad?

Me: Um, it depends on what it is...

Capria: ... Okay, well I'll just tell you anyways... your clothes don't match.

Levi: I can blow bubbles out of my eyes... WANNA SEE?!

Me: Ew, no.

Levi: Too bad, I am showing you anyways.

Scott and RD: Miss Cavender, it's 4/20.

Here's a story about one of my favorite students named Mason. He is kind of the loner, artsy type. He listens to hardcore music and is always really good in class. He he almost a black belt in some kind of karate or martial arts. Kind of on the small side and not really one of the popular kids. I guess he had been being kind of bullied for awhile. Well, last week, he was gone Monday thru Thursday... 4 days gone is obviously due to a suspension. I later found out that I guess after school the previous Friday, that bully started to tease Mason again. Mason I guess just had enough and beat the CRAP out of this 5'11 8th grader. I am not a big fan of fighting, but to be honest with you, I am pretty gosh dang proud of Mason. I laughed for about 5 minutes straight when I found this out... and I really just want to give him a high five... but I know that would not be very professional...

Okay, more stories and quotes to come... I have TONS... it's just my battery is dying and I don't have my charger with me. Look for PART II soon.

Skirt + Wind = .....

Yep. You guessed it.

This post is pretty short due to the immense embarrassment I am trying to endure while also keeping it low key.

It has been absolutely GORGEOUS in Omaha these past few days. I am talking 80's. SO NICE. Well, I got back from school today and decided to change into a new skirt I just bought before I had to go to work. I am really lucky that I work just a few blocks from my apartment, so no matter the weather, I walk. Well, today was no exception. I was walking to work... in my new short linen skirt. Well, I obviously wasn't thinking because today was especially windy. I was trying my best to hold down my skirt as I was walking to work, but as I was crossing one of the main streets in the old market, I dropped my cell phone, and I reached to get it. Well, me reaching for my phone equaled me letting go of my skirt. Yep... skirt flew up. On one of the main streets in the Old market. Right about dinner time. In 80 degree weather. Well, I quickly pulled it down and pretended like it didn't happen.... cause really, I didn't want to draw attention to myself... or acknowledge how many people saw this event... and I am fully aware that people DID see this.

Well, about half an hour later, as I am walking around and organizing some of the clothes in the store. I get to the lingerie section, which is by one of our big windows. Three boys walk by, glance at me, look at each other, then walk back right to the window near where I was standing. They point to the underwear... and then me... and then give me a thumbs up. Creeps. I shook my head and they just smiled cooly and walked away.

I am guessing they saw this unfortunate event before work. I wanted to die.

Gas Station Bathroom

I'm a very visual person... so right now I am going to paint you a picture with my words. The following description is my experience in a random, middle-of-nowhere Kansas, gas station:

Two gas pumps. Gas station sign falling off the front of the building. No other cars in sight. So glad that I pay at the pump at this point. I walk into the small building to buy a water and use the bathroom. Inside, there are three men... picture the greasiest, sloppiest, stereotypical rapist type, and those are what these men looked like. I really wish someone was with me. I go to the bathroom, which is unisex. DIRTIEST bathroom I have ever seen. No toilet seat. Suspicious fluids all over the floor. I REALLY have to go... but I almost would rather pee in a bottle. I still choose toilet. Instead of toilet paper, a box of kleenex. While washing my hands, I look over at the wall and notice the condom and lube dispenser. Awesome... I'm in the room of bacteria and STD's. I walk out, go over to get a water and notice they don't even have any water. I ask one of the men at the counter, "Do you have any water?" His response, "They are slow on delivering the bottled water, but we have tap water if you want that." Immediately, I say, "No that's okay, don't worry about it." I didn't want to risk anyone drugging my water. I quickly walk to my car, look up at the building, notice the three men watching me, get in my car, lock my doors, and drive off.

EWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW.

Just Dance! (Thank you Lady Gaga)

I love music. And dancing. And singing. And my car, Leo.

So naturally, with this combination, I thoroughly enjoy dancing and singing loudly in my car to catchy music. I'm not even embarrassed by this.

Well, driving to youth group last night, I was listening to a mix one of my friends made me... it has some super catchy music on it! Obviously, I start singing and dancing like a fool. There I am, on the interstate, rocking out. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a car driving pretty much evenly and at the same speed as me. I look over in the midst of my musical performance and he too is jammin'. I'm talking full on belting out and dancing. YESSSSS. This guy had to be in his late 20's. He glances over and then stopped dancing and singing, like he was super embarrassed to be caught. Well, I know how it feels to be looked at weird for rocking out while driving, so I gave him a big thumbs up and a big smile. He looks back over, sees my thumbs up, and starts laughing and smiles back. What do I do after this? I go back to my own dancing and singing, content with the fact that I relieved him from a sense of embarrassment or judgement. After a few seconds, I look back over at the man, and he is giving me a big thumbs down. He laughs and then drives away...

Umm... Who are you, man? I was trying to be nice by not making you feel like a fool and then you give ME a thumbs down?! Gosh dang it.

KIDS.

Haven't updated in awhile... but here, for your entertainment, are more stories about my elementary students -- things they have said and done. Well, I wish I had other stories to tell you, but I basically have a full time job and nothing better to talk about. Adult life sucks... at least little kids are pretty freaking entertaining.

• Davion, one of my kindergartners (and who is also on the bus I do bus duty for), told my cooperating teacher he was going to marry me. When some of the older kids on the bus told him that I was too old for him, he said, "Well, when I am 25, I am going to date and marry Miss Cavender." Great, so I'll be 41 when that all works out.
• On my birthday, "Miss Cavender! Happy Birthday! How old are you?!" "22." "Oh... I thought you were 17."
• Hugo, a fourth grader who is most likely gay (trust me on this one): "Miss C.... mmm girl, your shirt looks soooooo nice on youuuuuu. I love pink." Please be my best friend, Hugo.
• "Miss Cavender? Um, can um I um I go um to um to the um bathroom?" Little kids are even more inarticulate than I am. What a feat!
• During an oil pastel lesson in the first grade, I turned around after the helpers passed out all the art materials, and I see one little boy with two oil pastels sticking up his nose and two in his mouth like he was impersonating a walrus. Normally, teachers would look at him and say, "Excuse me, you need to take those out of your mouth and nose right now! You know better than that to stick those there!" Good thing I am not normal- What did I do? I walk over to him and say, "You know, the last little boy who did that was sneezing purple for a month and food never tasted the same." His response? Shock and awe and immediate removal of the oil pastel from his dirty little face. I win.
• "Miss Cavender, you should date my brother..." "How old is he?" "15." "... Get back to work."
• I was rushing to help one second grade class finish cleaning up because we were running pretty late. Well, I am super clumsy (who would have thought?!) and I ran into my art cart... and it fell over. Art supplies EVERYWHERE. I'm talking paint, pencils, markers, paper, brushes, everything. The kids response? Laughter. I'm a fool.
• I found a note written about me... helllooooooo referral form. My life is complete.
• Max, a third grader: "Miss Cavender, if I don't go to the bathroom right now, my bladder is going to explode." "You are being dramatic, you need to wait till class is done." "No I'm not, that's how my dad died..." "Oh my gosh, I am so sorry!..." "HAHAHA, I can't believe you just fell for that!" "... Are you KIDDING me!? Get out. Go pee." I am kind of impressed my this eight year old's sarcasm... and by how gullible I really am.
• A kindergarten boy dropped an entire sheet of gluey paper on my pant leg... he just looked up at me with the most pathetic look in the world and said... "please don't be mad." Oh my goodness... SO precious. I could never be mad at that.
• I gave out chocolate to some girls who came in during their lunch to help me clean the art room. While eating it, one of the girls just had this disgusted look on her face. I asked what was wrong. "I hate chocolate." Why are you eating it then? "Because you gave it to me..." Okay, kid. First lesson... PEER PRESSURE.

I have so many stories. I am sure a lot of them I have forgotten, but don't worry, I still have one more week in the Elementary schools and then I move to junior high... THOSE will be some GREAT stories.

Cataracts

Story of the day:

So, since I am progressively taking over teaching duties in the classroom, my cooperating teacher thought it would be a good idea for me to start taking over her bus duties too... oh joy. Well, imagine me and my handy-dandy bud duty clipboard, walking through the hallways all bundled up and ready to conquer the mini blizzard outside, hoping that the buses would actually be able to take all these kids home. Well, I went to my assigned bus, and thank goodness, all the kids were there. One by one, I am checking their names off. One of my kindergarten students, Mariella, was sitting at the front of the bus right next to where I was taking attendance. She keeps looking at me all funny, so I look at her and just smile.

This is how the rest of the story/conversation went:

"Are you blind?" - Mariella

"Umm... what? No, I'm your art teacher and I am looking at you right now... I guess I don't understand." - Me

"Well... your eyes..." - Mariella

My guess is that because my eyes are light blue, she thought I had cataracts. She is Hispanic so she most likely has not spent too much personal time with people with light blue eyes...

Part of me wants to say thank you but another part of me is just genuinely confused... I've never been asked that before.

Huh... Welp, there's a first for everything...

Student Teaching Fiascos

Sorry I've been so bad about updating this blog! Student teaching has taken over my life... so I feel like I have very little time just to sit down and write about all my amazingly awkward events that inevitably present themselves in the two elementary schools I am at.

Here are some short stories to fill you in.

1. One of my special ed kids was playing with something in his hands while I was reading a book to their class. After I finished reading, he ran up to me and told me he had something to give me. He held out his hand, and I, mine. When I looked at my palm to see what he had left me, I see a tooth. He apparently just decided to pull it out during the story and was really proud to show it off. Or he thought I was the tooth fairy and he was expecting some money in return for his baby tooth.

2. Kids NONSTOP tell me how young I look or how short I am. How old are you? Really? You look like you're 16. How tall are you? My 14 year old brother is taller than you. Miss Cavender, why are you so short? It's not enough that I have been teased about my height my entire life, now I need to hear it from 6-12 year olds. Excellent.

3. I saw a kid poop on the floor of his classroom. And another one of my students got in trouble for pooping in a urinal. What is it with little boys (and I guess the male gender in general) and being WAY too open and proud of bodily functions and secretions? Stop it.

4. I am the "new teacher" in school... which according to the school staff means that little kids really like me... and little boys think I'm cute. A 6th grade boy stops by to visits me in my office everyday... and he gave me a plastic skull ring and a drawing of me that looked like a transvestite. Sorry, I am not very flattered that a 12 year old has a crush on me. All the teachers call me "Rookie" and make fun of me for being this semester's "new teacher"... Gosh dang.

5. I have written 6 referrals (basically these are bad reports that get sent to the principal and have to go home to get signed by parents if the student is acting out) and have made 2 kids cry. Oops....................... BAHAHAHAHAHAHA.

6. Kids seriously say some of the funniest things. Here are a few of my favorite quotes:

• (While making origami heart bracelets for Valentine's Day. One student, Cole, toward another student, Tiber, while they were working) "Hey Tiber... who's your Valentine?... You're MOM?!" My reaction? Uncontrollable laughter. Their facial expressions were priceless.
• "I have cramps..." - student Eliesha. "Dude, that's cause you're overweight." - student Trayvon "Trayvon, that was both incredibly rude and unnecessary!" - Me "No, it's okay Miss Cavender. I'm fat.... But at least I don't look like a donkey child."
• "WHAT THE F***?!" - Kindergartner Nytrelle
• "Miss Cavender, I think I'm going throw up..." - Derek, a first grade student with austism who fakes an illness EVERY class. "You look just fine to me, Derek."- Me "No, reallllllly, my stomach is going to fall outtttttt. (Screaming) I'M GONNA BARRRRFFFFF!" - Derek "... Derek, why are you shouting?" - Me "My stomach's mad so it's making my voice loud." - Derek
• "You smell like Peanut Butter, Miss Cavender... I likeeeeeee it." - student Aishya

Hopefully, I'll be more dedicated to updating this on a more regular basis.

Beth Lavender | Elmer's Glue and Clay Extrordinnare

If you are unaware of my current educational situation, I am student teaching at two different elementary schools in OPS (Omaha Public Schools). Since my degree will be in Art K-12, I am required to do part of my student teaching in an elementary school... which I NEVER pictured myself doing. I have always been drawn to youth, but to be honest, I am actually really enjoying teaching K-6 right now... Yeah, I'm shocked too.

Well, big surprise (well, not really), there's a lot of awkward baggage that comes with teaching in an elementary schools...

Here are a few of my observations and experiences that I have encountered in just over a week's time:

1. Parents must be CRAZY about weird and unusual names in Omaha. Here are the names of a few of my students and you can make your own conclusions: Understanding, Knowledge, Heavenly, and Desire (these four are siblings... Yeahhhhhh), Starr Knight, Dolly Mols, Alisabethe (pronounced Elizabeth), Cocokenisha (Please picture me trying to pronounce this on the first day...), Jen Jensen, Addu (I thought he was saying Abu for three days), La-Shae Monique Casper Fontaine Benson-Ross (They really should have tried making THIS one longer), and last but not least, Vernon and Vermont... they are twins. Come on, parents. Really? Why are you punishing your children?

2. I am a little behind in the maternal race. The response of one of my second graders when I told them how old I was? "You're as old as my mommy!"

3. Glue does in fact stick to hair. I was teaching in one of the younger special education classrooms today and we were doing a lesson that required the students to glue some paper down. One boy, Eli, LOVES glue... apparently. Well, Eli is also at the cognitive level of a two year old. Do you see where this is going yet? Well, I look over at one point and he is spreading glue all over his hands. I run over, "Eli, silly boy, what did you do? Glue doesn't go on your hands, it goes on the paper." I move his hands and show him how to put the glue on the paper. However, Eli was not so interested in putting glue on his paper... he either thought my hair was pretty or thought my hair was the paper, because he started to pet my head... with his gluey hands. Yeah... good thing that stuff is washable.

4. Don't try to compare your name with something else to make it more memorable. When I introduced myself on the first days of class, I would tell all the students my name was Miss Cavender, but to help them remember it, they should think of the color lavender. I thought it was cute since it's art and we work with color, but whatever. Well, most of the kids are pretty decent at remembering my name, especially since I only see each class once a week. Kindergarten is an exception to this, however. Instead of calling me Miss Cavender, they call me Miss Lavender. Eh... close enough, little ones. Good thing they are cute or else they'd get a beat down... just kidding... but really.

5. NEVER let the kids find out your first name. Somehow, some of the annoying 6th grade girls found out my first name... and started calling me by it. The first time they did it, it was said outloud in the lunchroom and I gave them the death stare and shook my head no. The second time, while they were in the hallway, I took them all aside and told them this: "You cannot call me by my first name. Why you might ask? Because I am not your friend... until March, I am your teacher and you need to treat me with the same respect as you would your other teachers. It's disrespectful... and if you disagree, we can talk to Mrs. Humphrey about it. Any questions?" You should have seen their faces ... they did not have any questions. I will be nice, little hormonal adolescents, but if you give me attitude and are rude, I refuse to deal with it. Prepare.

6. My favorite phrase is: I cannot hear or see anyone who is talking without raising their hands or anyone who is out of their seat. I use this a lot with the little kids who just want attention and think they can talk and get up from their seats to show you their art... which they showed you 30 seconds earlier. Their memory spans sometimes remind me of goldfish... but I love it.

7. I handed out a referral to a boy who threw colored pencils at a girls head and I also saw a cat fight break out in the cafeteria. Bahahahahahahahahahahaha, is that sad I get enjoyment out of events like that? Probably... OH WELL.

8. Gracey, a first grader, looks at me during class and says, "You're really pretty... but you have a blue mark on your face." Dang you, pencil stab scar... thanks for inhibiting my prettiness for 6 and 7 year olds.

9. Since last week was my first week, I introduced myself to every class. These were my basics: My name is Miss Cavender. I'm from Chicago but go to school at Creighton University. I want to be an art teacher. My favorite things in art are to draw and paint people. I love being outside. My favorite color is red. I have a dog named Sammy. I included a few other things in there every once and awhile, but after I introduced myself, I would open up the floor for questions. the 3rd through 6th graders were really good about asking questions... but K through 2nd? They can't differentiate between a question and a comment most of the time... these were some of the "questions" I was asked: "I have 2 dogs", "I like red too", "Where did you get your shirt?", "My dad knows someone who knows Creighton", "Chicago is fun, I've been there". One of my favorite questions though? "Are you married?" No. "Do you have a boyfriend?" No. "Okay, well, if you had to choose between an octopus and a seahorse, which would you choose?" Umm.... Seahorse?

I have a feeling this is going to be a very long, yet very entertaining, semester... thank goodness! :)

Teenage Boys are the Epitome of DISGUSTING.

Walmart. Tuesday January 5th. 2pm. Shopping.

Just got back from break and picking up some groceries.

In the self checkout line.

Two OBNOXIOUS 13 or 14 year old boys in front of me.

What are they buying? Magnum condoms.

Now, unfortunately, I am not doubting that 13 and 14 year olds have sex. But these kids were DISGUSTING. Stereotypical, 13 year old video game nerds who probably shower ever 10 days only after their mother has to barge into their bedrooms wearing gas masks and rubber gloves and force them into the bathroom. Not to mention, they reeked and had more acne on their faces than I have ever seen before.

They were telling stupid jokes and being loud.

I give them the "death stare", hoping they would shut up.

They notice me staring... and what does the little punk with the soiled hoodie say to me? "What?!"

Excuse me, little boy? Huh... what should I say next? Well, I don't know what I should have said, but I DID say, "Yeah... you aren't going to need those (I point to their purchase)."

"Huh?"

"There is no way you are going to need those."

They roll their eyes and walk away.

I feel grand.