A friend asked me about the differences between Art History graduate studies and Elementary Ed graduate studies.

Ha.

Let me clear my schedule. I’m going to have to take off work to answer this appropriately. Are you sure you have time? Go ahead and tell your husband to pick up pizza on his way home. Are those your comfortable pants from college with the elastic waistband? You might want to put some on. You will be here a while.

The difference is this: Art History is a discipline that thrives on being argumentative. Everyone crafts an argument and defends it (to the death). It never goes unnoticed when a theorist changes his mind at some point throughout his career and will probably be asked about this change at every conference for the rest of his life. Done. You make arguments, you question others, and you hoard sources from the library so no one else will get them. You gossip about how you are just so sure that a professor is hiding a source from you so that you can’t write about it (because he doesn’t like your thesis.)

This happens.

Education on the other hand, is all about some acceptance. Accept that your students are who they are, meet them where they are. Accept that cooperative learning is good. Accept that research shows homework isn’t necessarily helpful to students (btw, NOT SWALLOWING THAT PILL). Acceptance is good and refreshing, but it’s new and a bit unfamiliar for me professionally.

The friend asked if it’s changed me.

No. I still want a well-crafted argument based on five scholarly sources why you just said that crazy thing you just said about a classroom. I don’t mind that you said it, and I don’t disagree with you. I just need for you to tell me a source. SOURCES, PEOPLE. SOURCES.

It’s a sickness. That will never change.

But I do remember watching a fellow student, with whom I disagree on many things, model a lesson for a group. None of it was done the way that I would do it. Not a thing. But I do realize thinking this girl is a good teacher. Her kids will learn and she will be incredible in the classroom. I admire her style.

And knowing that this new way of thinking is totally acceptable in education (and is the essence of education) is a freeing feeling.

Also? The over-sharing. The over-sharing is unbelievable. Your child birth plan at the hospital? Your divorce five years ago? Your night job? Fantastic. LET’S ALL HEAR ABOUT IT.

So, yes, I guess I’ve found my people.

I’ve been kind of obsessing about the whole job hunt thing lately. One second I’m doing fine, taking care of paying bills and packing lunch like a normal person, and the next thing I know I’m watching youtube videos about a charter school in downtown Philadelphia. (No, I’m not moving to Philadelphia right now or anywhere outside of Arkansas, cool your jets). But still.

I woke up yesterday and nervously picked out some interview clothes. I had the interview and then spent half the morning rehashing it and wondering how I could have done better, how I could prepare more for next time. By dinner, I realized that things will go the way they have always gone, the way that things will always go: I’ll end up in the classroom where I’m needed most. End of story. I slept a lot better last night with that thought, too.

But when I do get my classroom, it will be awesome. But it will be something a lot like this:

But isn’t that how all good and good-for-you experiences are?

image via (makingitlovely)

You guys are incredibly ambitious when it comes to preparing desserts contained in cute things.

And I love all of you for it.

Stacey texted me to say:

Ridiculous idea for your (friend’s) wedding pie baking: glass jars. All the rage.

Yes. Pie-in-a-jar is a total raging thing right now, like bunting, striped drinking straws and diy bouquets made of vintage brooches (don’t think I don’t know my wedding blogs). But the pie-in-a-jar thing is something I can totally get behind. Stacey pointed out that I would be able to bake more servings at once, transport and store them efficiently, and that they are pretty darn cute. Just look at them:

(via here)

And although Faith and Jeff did tell me that I could carve a statue of my own body out of cake if I wanted to, I really do want to give them something they like.

So I texted.

Me: How do you feel about the pie-in-a-jar trend?

Faith: I will eat pie in a hat, a boot, a can, a rubber ducky, you name it.

Me: This is why I like you.

Faith: One time I ate a piece of cheesecake I found on a room service tray in the hallway of a hotel that some schumck decided not to eat.

…..

So I’m taking it Faith and Jeff are cool with pie-in-a-jar, but what do you think? Cool? Too much trouble? Eh?

(ps. What the crap am I going to do with all those jars?)

*And by catch up, I mean actually watch.

Downton Abbey

Parenthood

30 Rock (when season commences)

Parks and Recreation (see above)

The rest of Felicity (Ben or Noel, I need to know this.)

Game of Thrones (curious, that’s all)

…and yet I’m reading books. See what you did, MOM?! All your fault.

Anything I need to add to the list?

The weekend. Oh. The. Weekend. Last week as parents picked up their babies, several asked politely, “Plans for New Year’s?”

“Yep. Flight to Pittsburgh.”

“Cool! To do what?”

“To visit my… um… someone.” (because there are no terms that are appropriate.)

So I went to see Tyler and at the last moment, stars aligned and he needed to move to his new place  in Philadelphia. So move we did. Oh, we moved. We packed and we moved and I slept in the back of a truck like the ever-so-helpful driving companion that I am.

You guys, his place is so freakin cute I can hardly stand it.

Just look at us. Standing on the sidewalk of the most adorable, family-friendly neighborhood in Philly. Looking like we are the kind of people that make breakfast for each other on Saturdays and swing by the other’s workplace to drop off dinner because they are working late on a Thursday night. HA! We are actually the kind of people that throw down 500 bucks to help the other move their stuff across-state and then say “Well, see ya in March, maybe?” “Sounds good.” But you know, that’s just how things go.

While there…

I saw snow.

I ate an insane burger that claimed the top spot in my category of “Make Your Own Burger.” (I have a running list of Best Burgers, broken down by categories. And you think I’m kidding.)

The weekend was worth every flight, every piece of furniture, every sore muscle, every pound I gained from that single burger and even that lost piece of luggage. Because I got to put an outrageous year behind me and celebrate New Year’s with people I deeply care about. And that’s the perfect way to start a new year.

I had a rough day today. The kind of day that reminds me that I really should look up someone in the LR area who would like their mortgage to be paid by listening to me talk about perfectionism.

But until I can make those phone calls, I decided to bake quiche, paint my nails purple and wasted time catching up on my Google Reader (guilt-free). Oh, and finish that trilogy I started on Friday.

That should do for now.

In the meantime, let’s all enjoy a photo of me fishing of a pier in Tampa while wearing the most white-trash outfit I could muster:

Makes everyone’s day better, right?

Today I ate a peppercorn-crusted dry aged wagyu burger with aged gruyere cheese, toasted shallot aioli, brandied peppercorns, caramelized onion marmalade, jalapenos and bacon. There was some truffled gorgonzola fries action, too.

It was magical.

The End.

ps. Thank you, Pittsburgh, for the five pounds I gain every time I visit.