Old Boring and Too-Red Hair

New Sassy and Darker Hair

Thank you Parker for the late night and sexy new look.

1. For over a week, I've been driving past the mouth of Big Cottonwood Canyon. My heart saddened every time I'd get close to the mine because there was a lonely carcass of something super soft. It had to be some sort of mountain cat. It was lying on its side with its tail kind of sticking out. I drove past it time and time again, each time super tempted to pull over and check it out. Was it a cougar? Mountain lion? Are those the same thing? I was nervous that it would do some mental damage to see the poor thing, so I always kept driving, shaking my head with pure pity.
Last night, I'd had enough of the wondering. Poor little guy, shouldn't someone have taken care of the body already? My curiousity led the way, noticing that there weren't any cars behind me, I slowed to a crawl, pulled over slightly ... and gasp! It was a rug. A super soft rug. Joke's on me, I guess.

2. Ammon came running into my apartment this morning, desperately hoping that I had seen his keys. Deflated, he ran back downstairs to continue his search. A minute later, he opened my front door, and yelled up, "Amy! You're getting a ticket! Run out here quick and stop her!"
I bolted out and met a tiny old lady, and asked her what the problem was. She pointed to the no parking sign, to which I explained that we could park in front of that pole, and I swept the extra five feet that I had given the pole.
"What about having a parking permit?" she clucked snottily.
I pointed my finger to the permit that was lying in the back window of my car.
"Hmmph, well I didn't see it," and she continued to write the ticket!
"So everything's alright?" with my eyebrows furrowed, completely confused and annoyed.
"Can I see the permit?" she spat.
I didn't have my keys on me, so I excused myself and sprinted inside and back out. When I came back out, she was on the phone with the parking pass office. I handed her the permit as she was saying, "Alright, thank you, then I will continue issuing the citation." She asked if I lived at the house because the office told her that I did. "Then this guest permit doesn't apply to you because you live here."
"I have used this permit for two years, and I have never had a problem. AND the lady in the office told us that this is what we were supposed to do. Excuse me for being frustrated, but I did my part to make sure that I had the correct parking pass, and this is what they issed to us. It seems like there's a problem with the office, not with my parking pass, seeing as this is the one they told us to use."
"Hmmph. Would you like to talk to the office?"
So insanely frustrated at this point, I took the lady's cell phone, and explained my situation. The parking pass lady kept on with, "Well I don't know who would have told you that, do you have a name?" It was two years ago! I begged her to let me have a warning, but then asked what I was supposed to do about a parking pass if this wouldn't work, to which she had no reply.
"So am I going to have to plan on getting a ticket every single day because my pass doesn't "apply"?"
"Oh, we have nothing to do with the tickets."
"Oh, because I just overheard this lady say that she had your permission to continue issuing the citation."

"So you're going to write me a ticket for not having a parking pass, when you're holding the parking pass in your hand?"
Horse shit.
Later, I called Karen (my roommate) and she fumed with me, because we were together when we got the permits. She's going to call the parking pass office again.

3. Emily and I were out longboarding around the neighborhood, when a car stopped to ask her something. She was a ways behind me; stranger danger. So I jumped off my board and evil-eyed the car the whole time. Nobody kidnaps my sister. The car moved on and talked to a couple that was out walking, and Em came running over explaining that the lady was looking for her little black dog. Classic kidnap line. However, there is a huge poster at the bottom of my parent's hill that announces "Found: Black Dog."
So with Em's encouragement, I stopped the car and explained the directions to the poster.
"Well ... he's only been gone 15 minutes. I was playing with my grandkid's ... and he just bolted." So I gently explained that that poster didn't apply to her because it had been up a few days. I asked if the dog had a collar with a number, and assured her that we would keep a look-out, and we'd call her.
I had barely finished my sentence when, "Oh! There he is!" and she gunned her little green car, barely missing running over my longboard. Em and I both looked up in surprise to see a little scotty dog running across the road up ahead.
We boarded our little hearts out to help the lady catch him, but he hopped right into the car like a good boy.

James used to call me now and then as he rode trax home, and I have to admit that I teased him about it. Not about calling me of course, I loved those calls, but about the amount of noise that accompanies a journey on trax. He is still the trax master, but I have definitely had my fair share of trax experiences. The convenience and actual ride is amazing ... the people I encounter ... more often than not scare the bejesus out of me.
Today's adventure:
I rode trax from my house, downtown to the Zion's bank; I needed to exchange money and fill my wallet with euros. On the way back to my house, an older lady with a walking stick started asking me a million questions about the bus system. I, as I am noticing is a consistent thing, am not helping. I have no idea about the buses, I don't even know where to send her to find out, other than the drug store across the street. However, I was terrified to point this out to her because I was afraid that she was a little wonky and might try crossing the street right in front of me. Sigh. She was grateful for the attempt at help, and when we climbed on to trax, and most of the seats had at least one occupant, I was glad that I had this new old lady friend to sit next to.
Unfortunately, across the aisle, right next to me, was a mom and her daughter, who were talking to a pregnant lady kitty corner to them. I tried to drown myself in my book, but to my horror, I was ripped out of my story by the mom's slow, thick, "Oh great, we can't go to Walmart anymore. She just shit herself up and down."
Pregnant lady's face had to have mirrored mine. (Disbelief, disgust, really did you just announce that? Your daughter looks like she's six years old.) A guy that was directly across from the mother and daughter duo was holding his nose in pure despair, and for have a second I entertained the thought that it was he who had actually messed himself "up and down." He definitely looked guilty. Added bonus: The guy had a huge gaping hole in the crotch of his pants. Lovely.

The first time I met my mom's Wii Fit, we didn't get along very well.

1st: He calculated my age ... 42

2nd: He told me I wasn't very strong.

3rd: He pointed out that I must trip a lot because I don't pick up my feet.

I fought back and in one weekend,

1: Lost ten pounds. (Stupid Wii Fit)

2: Was told that I was extremely strong.

3: Dropped my age to 20 years old.

So in my mind, I am of course winning the battle with Wii Fit. However, today Wii Fit scored some major points. I was shopping at Gateway with Emily, (we're scrambling to get clothes for our Europe trip), and as I tried to conquer some stairs, I full-on kicked the stair instead of actually stepping on top of it, and fell ... hard and loud. Em was a little ahead, turned, laughed her loudest asthma laugh which was then accompanied by a girl's, "Are you alright?"

Next goal: Learn how to pick up my feet.

Curious? Ask Emily how much fun I can make the advanced step on Wii.

This has to be final.

What? We're leaving for Europe in two weeks? Oh. Well let me just blow all of that spending cash on unnecessary items to jazz up my room. New mirror, new light bulb, new lamp is still crooked.
New rug, new couch.
New art.

My roommate, Karen, is a kindergarten teacher, and she came home yesterday with a story for me.

Her kids had their teddy bear picnic yesterday, and as Karen was getting everyone started on the food, her little boy Aidan comes running up, "Ms. Conklin, Ms. Conklin!" frustrated and ready to cry, "Jonah is putting his teddy bear's butt on me and making him fart!"

Karen laughed, tried to stop, laughed some more, and then worked on getting the two boys to talk things out. She then apologized to Aidan for laughing, to which Aidan replied, "Actually, Ms. Conklin, once I said it out loud, it was kind of funny."

I cannot stop giggling.

Today's a 1/2 day, and it's our last day of school! Wahoo!

The lameys are wandering the halls, begging for signatures, and I always mark the yearbook with:

Bob,
When you are famous, don't forget to look straight into the cameras and admit, "I owe it all to my middle school math teacher, Ms. Bateman."

I cannot describe my love for this page out of a yearbook. So many gems.

Final Product? On the wall between the dresser and shelves, I'm thinking about stamping a huge gaudy picture. I wonder if I could send one of my own pictures in to a fancy blow-it-up place.

Stupid stain, IKEA can help me with that. The lamp is a little lopsided because I've yet to put the bulb in place because James snuck it home to his house, and I haven't rescued it yet.
Lame that I'm posting about rearranging my room. Now my summer project is done. Karen made me laugh so hard when she pointed out in her student whiny voice, "But summer hasn't even started!"

New Shelf!Karen helped me conquer assembling this bad body from IKEA. I love it, and I am so excited to deal with all of the lame clutter hanging around my room. I already feel like it has opened up lots of space, and then I turn around to the other half of the room and notice ...
Ugh. The green knobbies are leaving, brown yet-to-be-bought ones will take their place. I can't decide how I want to rearrange my bed, dresser, and lamp. I would love to buy a little loveseat to put next to my lamp so that I can read my little brains out under the light.

This is the devil's clutter that I am curently dealing with. I do not want those tupperware scandals in my room. I think I'll have to go back to IKEA to get some more organization boxes. Maybe I could put them behind my shelf?

I beg you, please, give me some ideas on the arrangement. Bed at an angle from the corner? Dresser at an angle? I have no idea. Help!

Senator Howard Stephenson

came and observed my classroom this morning. One of the district math specialists got the ball rolling a few weeks ago, but it had hit some major ruts on the way. Basically, I didn't know until yesterday that it would all actually work, and I was stressed to the max. I am not familiar with the man, but everyone kept frowning and explaining to me that he is "Not a friend of education," and he "Would much rather have a child learn from a computer (think on-line classes) than with a teacher in a classroom."

I was annoyed by this attitude, and I got sucked into hear-say, and when I went up to beg our adorable librarian, Steve, to let me open up the library to use the computer lab one last time, I completely stuck my foot in my mouth. I was describing Howard to Steve, and I was using everything that I had heard from everybody else, and Steve sat back and cut in with, "Actually, I know Howard." Huge gulp from me. "And he definitely is pro-education, he just feels that a lot of money is wasted on administration ... and he can be bratty, but he will listen to you, and you do a great job, so you don't need to worry."

It was a very stressful morning involving the airport, an early morning meeting, and one practice run of lowering the Phantom (a whole other story, basically our school has a phantom: think V for Vendetta) from the rafters for the assembly later in the day. I literally kicked off my shoes after Jess and I bowed out of our meeting, and we ran down to the auditorium to practice. I was under the impression that I would be in the aisle, belaying the Phantom, but apparently, I was to be up in the rafters with the Phantom, and I would lower him from there, unseen. We climbed into our harnesses, I was ready with my ATC, and then I sized up the Phantom, and had a slow-panic realization of his girth compared to mine. I was literally sliding across the metal walkway as the Phantom put his weight on the rope.

"I don't have you!" as I started to sweat with panic.

"Um, I'm totally sitting on the rope, you have me."

"No, I don't! I can't lower you, and I can't pull you up. This is really dangerous!"

"You have me! Just lower me!" assured the Phantom as I continued to slide until my ATC was smashing itself into a metal bar.

"My ATC is literally up against the bar. I cannot lower you, and you will have to pull yourself back up."

Finally, the Phantom heaved himself back on to the cat walk, and kind of chuckled as he saw my predicament. I was terrified, and now I was sweaty, and I was about to meet a senator, and I had sticky sweaty bangs. We anchored me to a bar, and it pulled me sideways as I practiced lowering the Phantom one time. I had no visual, but it worked out alright. I made a mental note that I should at least switch shoes before the real run.

I sprinted back upstairs where my vice principal spotted me, "Amy! They're looking for you, where should I tell them you will be?" I showed her my filthy black hands, told her I'd be in the library in one minute, and literally washed my hands five times.

The five minute bell rang as I was walking to the library, but luckily only Maggie (one of the district math specialists) was there. She was under the impression that no one else was there yet, and she started to tell me a story about how they had a different appointment with the Senator elsewhere, but he hadn't shown up ... I wasn't listening.

My kids are gems, and they got right to work, and I explained the situation to them because they were so nervous about being in the library, "We're not supposed to be here Ms. Bateman, it's closed you know."

Howard Stephenson walked in with Jan (my principal), Camille (another district math specialist), and Christy (one of our vice principals). I was a little annoyed by the huge gathering, so I focused on helping my kids, and eventually squoze in to the crowd to introduce myself. I was beyond being intimidated, everything had been way too stressful up to this point.

Howard walked around with me, listened to me help my kids, talked to students individually, and later asked very thought-provoking questions. I enjoyed talking to him, I never really felt like I was defending my teaching style, more explaining how and why I approach teaching the way I do. However, I was very annoyed by our district math specialists because I totally felt like they were on the defense/attack the whole time, and I didn't have as much time with the Senator as I would have liked. It was great to explain things to him, and to feel like he was really listening and absorbing and interested.

As our meeting after class wound on and on, I was getting very nervous about my involvement in the assembly. Thankfully, Christy stepped in and explained my position in the assembly, and they were all very curious, and acted very wowed that I would "Do such a thing." Christy created the perfect situation for me to bow out.

I thanked Senator Howard Stephenson for coming, encouraged him to e-mail me if he had more questions, and invited him to come to my classroom any time, explaining that he never needed an appointment.

The assembly went smashingly, and thankfully I was able to support the Phantom's weight as he dropped into the auditorium to fill the guitar spot for our SBO's rendition of Born to be Wild.

School ends next Wednesday. I am thrilled.

Get out of here!

Apparently the foods' room has a "flying ant problem," and those little buggers are somehow making the treacherous journey to my room.
I don't have any windows in my posh classroom, and the kids wondered why I was so annoyed that there were flying creatures about.

The first day we noticed a flying ant was when he decided to plop down on the overhead as the kids were completing their warm-up. I was taking roll, when Joshua laughed, "Hey! He wants to do question three!" Not at all understanding, but able to follow my kids' laughter, I finally spied our first pesty visitor. He was frantically dancing around, trying to dig at the bright light, gloriously magnified/illuminated for all to follow. Gag.
Later on in the week one of my boys brutally smashed a flying ant that crash landed on his table. The remains splattered on horrified Abbey.
Today, one fell dead from who knows where and landed on my keyboard.
Delightful.

Camping up American Fork CanyonChris, Sofi, Leilani, Me, Jess, and Em's taking the picture
Sofi = Firewood King
Tinfoil Dinners and Corn on the Cob
Down the Hatch
I rock at squatting and stink at browning a marshmallow.

Scary stories have to wait until dark.

Leilani stifled our warnings with, "I like them burnt!"

What the? I have officially gone cross-eyed.

The Victim

Chris graciously cut off the ant's head, although truthfully, the ant was already dead after plunging into the fire trying to escape Chris' knife.

Chris: "Oh wow, these ants are the best! They totally taste like lemons!"

Jess: "They really do, I've had lots."

My reaction : "Tastes like crunchy."

Chris: "Really? You are the first to say that they don't taste like lemons."

Em's tuckered out after a

hard night's camp-a-thon.

Stupid cats.

Who knew?

Alarmed that we were so impressed, my Dad shouted back,

"What do you mean? I had a skateboard when I was a kid!"

Longer Board, Shorter Hair

(My Two New Things)


Em's most successful attempt.

What a great day o' climbing. Jessica Gainer is infuriatingly amazing.
Lil' Em on a big rock.
So proud of Em.
My project. I either need to grow longer arms or start lifting like crazy.Chris Gainer showing us all up.


Dra's a titch nervous for us.

Bell Canyon Trail

I have been curious about the Bell Canyon Trail ever since Zach and Dra had an adventure with a snake while running back to the car. I had already made plans to hang out with Emily, and when I posed the idea of going on an after-school hike, Em was all in. I love that she's down with anything, and we were out of there in ten minutes. She's a great little cucurachu.



Get those ducks out of our drinking water!