End of an era

After more than 4 years, I've decided to leave facebook. I'd been contemplating the move for over 2 years after hearing a talk by Elder Bednar at a CES fireside, but it's taken a while for me to come around. One friend immediately left facebook after the talk, but I just wasn't ready to give it up. In fact, I thought she was insane. However, since that time, I've realized that it's time to say goodbye.

Maybe it's being pregnant and feeling the sense of change that's about to occur that has prompted me to move on and "re-fresh" things. I guess I just realized that facebook doesn't add to my life in any way. One thing that kept me from making this move was staying in touch with friends around the world I've collected over the years through university, the mission, and my internship in Israel. However, I realized that though we are facebook friends, we certainly are not "in touch" with one another. It's a false sense of closeness.

Here are some of my reasons, in no particular order:

1.) It is a complete waste of time (in my oh-so-humble-opinion). Okay, maybe it is appropriate that this in number 1 because even though I don't spend much time on facebook, every second that I do is a second that I can't get back and has added nothing to my life. That's the major issue for me--IT ADDS NOTHING TO MY LIFE.

2.) I don't care what [most] people ate for lunch/are going to do this weekend/think of Obama/want to happen at the game tonight. Unless that burrito was particularly delicious and you are bringing to my doorstep, call me calloused, but I don't really care. I don't need to know what crosses people's minds all day. I can barely register what is crossing my own all day. While knowing the minutuae of other peoples' lives may interest some, it adds nothing to my life or relationships. I also tire of what I perceive to be close-minded (sometimes uneducated) political rants. I don't see much fruitful political dialogue on facebook. It's either bashing or compatriot back-patting. The closemindedness that I see on facebook (from all political ideologies) actually frusterates me a great deal.

3.) For me, facebook is a communication catch-22. Because of the [lack of] privacy settings, I'm hesitant to post anything. I rarely post pictures anymore or post on people's walls, photos, etc because I don't want my business broadcast to everyone. But the whole purpose of facebook is to communicate and stay in touch, right? Instead, I feel like Jimmy Stewart in Rear Window, a voyeur watching the mundane lives of unsuspecting neighbors.

Now I admit that I have found it fun to look through people's photos and see what they are doing these days, however, it's a false sense of being "in touch." While I view happenings in friends lives, I am really no closer to them nor have I built my relationship with them. In this age of information overload, I feel that I am overloaded on people's lives without really being in their lives or having them part of mine.

4.) I've instead decided to focus on building relationships with people I am in touch with. I've decided to spend more time making phone calls, sending e-mails, and yes, blogging. I also plan on staying up with the blogs of people in my life. So expect lots and lots of posts. I'd rather have fewer real friends than 853 pseudo-friends.

Once I made the decision, I've actually been SUPER excited. It feels like rearranging my bedroom furniture or getting a brand-new hairstyle. I wont have my account officially deleted for a few days because I want to make sure I can get in touch with the handful of people who don't have my e-mail or blog info and who I would like to stay in touch with. Once I delete my page, every trace of my facebook presence will be erased. At least that's what facebook has said...

So stay tuned for regular posts!

I'll be fine when the weather cools off

I know, it's about time I posted. The problem is that once you've gone forever without posting, you feel the need to have something ultra important to say, or else it's not worth breaking the silence. And let's be honest, I rarely have anything important to say.

A lot has happened. Here is a basic update with several random thoughts and interjections:

I'm pregnant, which was hopefully obvious by the last post. I'm 22 weeks along, feeling good (though chubby).

Just a side note to people: Please be careful what you say to a pregnant woman. Saying "Oh, you don't look pregnant at all!" when they can no longer fit in any of their clothes and have found stretch marks on their belly is just saying "Oh, you always look fat!"

Also, do not comment on facebook photos from a pregnant girl's honeymoon about the "cute baby bump" that she has. It's not a baby bump. She was a year and a half from a baby bump. It was a fat bump or possibly a food bump.

Luckily, I have a very kind and loving husband who does a good job at soothing the blows people ignorantly pass out. He'll even turn around immediately after walking in the door from work to get me ice cream when the first words I say as he enters are "Baby needs Breyer's Mint Choco Chip." Maybe he's an enabler. But I call that a good husband.

I've continued running through my pregnancy which has been WONDERFUL. I had to wait till

the fires of hell stopped burning in AZ (i.e. AZ summer) to start back up in earnest, but now that the temperature is finally under 100 degrees, I try a run a few times a week. I go at a slow pace, but it feels so good to be running. I'm also running in the vibram 5-fingers which I highly recommend. I'll have to do a post on minimalist running soon. I'm really a fan. I think I've decided to run another marathon. Every time I run one, I tell myself that I will NEVER EVER UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES succumb to the pull of the 26.2, but I think I might put aside that promise and go for it. I think I keep telling myself that maybe one day, they wont hurt like crazy. I'm probably fooling myself.

In any case, I need something to force me into really great shape post-baby. James already said he'd do a 10k with me next May. Then I'll do a half-marathon in the Fall (best distance ever) and go for a full enchilada early 2013. Maybe the Phoenix Rock'n Roll.

Anyone interested in doing a early 2013 marathon? Anyone? Bueller? I'm not opposed to some traveling.

This is the sexy maternity belt I wear while running to keep my paunch from bouncing around so much.

Maternity belt + 5-finger shoes = weirdest looking runner on the canal.

By the way, James has been miraculous through this whole pregnancy thing. He goes running with me. And he doesn't like running. Despite being fat and pregnant, I still beat him running and his ego takes it, no problem. While he does many things much better than I (e.g. cleaning, being nice, organizing, waking up early, keeping his cool under pressure), he has no problem when I do something better than him. Just yesterday, some speed walking ladies were giving him a hard time saying "Pick up the pace! Your wife an baby just smoked you!"

While the normal guy would feel bruised and either kill himself running just to beat you (because many men can't handle being beaten athletically by a girl), or never run with you ever again, he just responded with his big smile "I'm just here for moral support! She's the runner, not me!" I love that man.

Here he is before presenting some research from his doctorate at a conference in San Francisco. The glare on the picture is funny. I'm not photographically gifted. We can add that to the list of things he does better than me.

As for work, I'm still teaching at the alternative high school. So basically, my life is like Michelle Pfeiffer's in Dangerous Minds except I don't give them candy or teach them karate. I make them learn about history and to not talk when I talk. I also don't let them pee whenever they want because as far as I'm concerned, if I can hold it with a baby bouncing on my bladder, so can they. It's my second year there and I'll be finishing this year in February with my maternity leave. It's been a really wonderful growing experience and I know I've been able to do a lot of good, but I'm not sure I've got another year in me at this school. That kind of makes me feel like a failure, but I've got to be realistic.

It's been the most emotionally and physically draining, time-consuming, and intense thing I've ever attempted. You can't do this job without being ready to give give give. Your time is pretty much owned by the school--the administration (an inspired bunch--the school really is amazing) demands it. But frankly, after having a baby, I don't know that I'll be able to give that much anymore. I'm looking for something part-time and a bit more low-key after the baby. We'll see how things shake out. James is ready for me to be done at my school. Ever since my 3rd week there and some kid took out his rage in the form of $2000 a damage to my car, James has been concerned for my safety. I'd be lying if I said I was never concerned. I love the kids I teach, but most of them are heavily involved in drugs and I don't trust anyone's judgement and actions when under the influence. And at least half my kids are gang-affiliated. I hate gangs. I mean, nobody "likes" them, but it makes me livid to see what they do to these poor, bright, kids who feel like they don't have options.

So we'll see how things shake out for me. My baby will come first and I only want to do something part time. I'd love to get into non-profit work as a museum-school group liaison or something. We'll see. Open to suggestions.

Coming Feb 2012

Water Fight

I have 10 more days of actual teaching left before a long-awaited summer break. I have Alice Cooper's classic "School's Out For Summer" ready to be played the moment my students take my final exam and exit my classroom.

Despite the difficulties of this year--and there have been many, let me assure you-- it has been a wonderful growing experience for me.

One of the best days ever happened just this last Thursday. We had a school-wide water fight. Yes, you heard me, a teacher planned, school wide water fight. Happens every year at this school.

At some point in the last 6 weeks of school, students will be standing outside on their afternoon break, waiting to go back to the last hour of class when all of the sudden, a teacher starts hosing hem down from the roof of the school. Teachers told me that I'd get completely soaked. They assured me it was great fun. Somehow students (many of whom I cannot stand) pelting me with water balloons and pouring buckets of water over my head didn't sound like much fun.

But, oh, how wrong I was.

I knew the waterfight was coming. I had luckily been forewarned by the lead teacher. SO I dressed in a way that is I was soaking wet (a) no one was getting a show and (b) my clothes would not be ruined. I pumped myself up for it that morning telling myslef it was just one more hoop to jump through. I was no looking forward to it.

But flash forward to when I suddenly had an arm full of water balloons, student were walking around oblivious having no idea what was about to befall them, and lo and behold, my favorite students were right there. I started pelting. I was amazing. Then they poured buckets of water over my head. It was so fun. I was dripping wet for an hour and half. Despite the crazy AZ summer heat, the students never let me get dry. It was amazing.

It broke down barriers. One students who has been DRIVING ME INSANE refused to get wet. In full revenge mode I sent about 15 girls armed with buckets of water after him. I really did feel better. Then he poured a bucket of water over my head. So dripping, I gave him a huge bear hug. Then suddenly, this kid who had legitimately made me want to punch walls and scream profanities was talking to me like I was his aunt, telling me about his health issues and what's going on in his life as we both stood there dripping. I told him about when I got my tonsils out (a procedure he might undergo) and how much it hurt. It was a beautiful moment.

I'll try and post pictures soon.

Sheryl = amazing

PLEASE check out my friends new spot on Mormon.org. I am proud to call her one of my besties.

The Other Night...

Our neighbors were fighting. While I don't like to eavesdrop, the amount of noise and angry swearing made us nervous there may be violence. So I put a cup to the wall and listened.

I know. Bad Erin. Then, when the guy went out the front door (visible from our peep hole) I too had to follow. I saw (through the door peephole) him shirtless, drunk, angry, and trying to take a huge couch down the stairs. It was a sort of I'm-drunk-and-crazed-I'm-leaving-and-taking-the-couch kind of move.

We live on the second floor so as he drug the couch down the stairs (ripping the couch in the process and creating enough noise to ensure that the entire complex was listening) she ran out after him, crying, and begging him to stay.

It was very noisy for a while and then it appeared that he left and she left shortly after. I wasn't quite sure, because the peephole only gave me so much visual information. But I wondered about the couch. There was NO WAY IN HECK that he could get that in a car by himself and leave. So shortly thereafter, I went outside and down the stairs to see if there was a couch in the middle of the parking lot. Instead I found two police cars instead of a couch.

I talked to them. Confessed that I was curious. Got some info. Apparently several people in the complex called the police. Then I went back upstairs.

SO THE NEXT MORNING at 4:30 am we heard the two of them (apparently they made up) trying to get the couch up the stairs. Had it not been spring break, I would have walked outside told them they were insanely rude and that people needed to wake up early to work. But since I wasn't one of those people, I stayed in bed and just got angry to myself instead. When James and I left the next morning for errands, the couch was halfway on the stairs, halfway on the walkway. We had to squeeze to get past. Hours later, it was still there.

So I decided I had had enough and went to the front office to tell on them. I walked in, and Rennee (the manager, whom I adore) comes out somberly from her office.

"So, you probably heard what happened last night."

She nods, still very somberly.

"Well, Mike still has yet to move the couch."

"Mike?" she said confused, "But they said it was YOU!"

Yes, so people in our complex thought the entire ruckus was caused by James and I. Apparently, they didn't look out their peepholes. And apparently, they really don't know my sweet James at all. If anyone was to be shirtless, crazed, and to angrily throw the couch down the stairs, it'd definitely be me.

So our question is: Do we knock on everyone's door and say "It wasn't me. It was THEM!" and point to apartment 232? Send out a flyer?

We have no idea.

Frozen

I think I may have given up on living just a little. Today at the grocery store, instead of the tons of produce I normally buy, I bought a bunch of frozen pizzas and frozen individual dinners. Szechwan chicken, spicy fajitas, and of course, salisbury steak. Sorta gross, but sorta necessary too if I want to feed my husband.

While I felt pathetic, life is just way too crazy to cook these days. I'm at work about 9 hours a day and then come home to plan and work as long as my eyes are open. It doesn't leave much time for cooking. In fact, it doesn't leave much time for anything (except complaining, which I excel at).

I've tried. In fact, I'll call James up and ask him how he'd feel about whole wheat pasta with a creamy homemade tomato garlic sauce, fresh parmesan chicken, and a nice salad with juicy grape tomatoes and my homemade balsamic vinaigrette. He'll get excited, quite naturally.

And then I'll call him up about 15 minutes before he's set to get home and enjoy the above meal and say, "I've just put a frozen pizza in the oven."

He's so sweet about it too. No complaints. He just happily eats whatever I give him (expect tofu pasta-- a mistake I will not repeat). I just hope I feel like cooking again one day.

Please, if you have easy and FAST recipes, please send them my way! erinthornhillreeder@gmail.com