Some people believe that being rained on at your wedding is a sign of good luck and fertility. But what does it mean if you’re shit on by a bird at your engagement photos?

It was supposed to be cloudy yesterday, not ideal for evening engagement photos, but with blessings from the weather gods, we had a day full of warmth and sunshine. The weather was temperate, therefore I did not need to cover my bare shoulders with my cardigan. My mint green top and matching mint green wide leg pants swayed in the light breeze as we stood outside of Le Dip, an iconic or overrated DC restaurant (it depends who you ask).

We were greeted by our three photographers, who appeared shorter than I imagined. I guess everyone thinks people they meet in real life are different from what one imagines since we’ve lived in a world of Zoom meetings. I said hello to the three ladies half-smiling with an awkward wave. I really did not want to be there. Taking contrived photos, in front of a bunch of random people eating French food is not my ideal night. As I thought this, I glanced across the street at the gym I regularly attend and wished I was in there bench pressing or something. Then, I had to reframe and pull myself together. I told myself, I am getting married, the photos will be beautiful; we had to check this to-do off the list.

“Walk this way holding hands. Walk zig zag down the sidewalk. Look at each other. Smile. Half smile. No teeth. Keep walking. Keep talking. Laugh!” commanded the photographers as passerbys looked on with a curious yet puzzled looks probably thinking we were shooting an ad or were lowbrow “celebrities.” We kept walking down the sidewalk and could her a cacophony of chirping birds in the tree. As the birds were fluttering about, I was walking and talking next to one of the photographers, Lisa. We were sauntering down the sidewalk chatting about the big day, when suddenly, out of nowhere something plopped directly on my top near my chest. I looked down and I discovered a brown spattering of what it appeared to be bird poop front and center for the whole world and lense to see. Couldn’t it have been white bird poop, I thought. At least that would have blended in. Ugh. Here we go. I furled my brow and clammed up grabbing my arms across my chest. I was annoyed. But then, I was feeling grateful. Grateful for technology; grateful for photoshop. I picked myself up figuratively and carried on.

I am going to make lemonade and have decided that being shit on is too a sign of good luck.

In my second grade class, we are studying poetry. For the coming week, students will learn about points of view and writing as if they are the thing they’re writing about. We call this masked poetry. Here is my take on it below…

I’ve been there for the good times, bad times, and in-between times.

I’ve been on first dates, makeups, and breakups

I’ve been there after a long night, ready to help you wake to the world

I’ve been there on a lazy Sunday, you had nothing to do except enjoy me.

I’ve been there on a rainy Tuesday, you’re holding me while you’re curled up with a book or two.

I’ve been there for first times, last times, and forever times

I’m bitter to some and devine to most.

I define culture and am woven into the fabric of the world.

I can bring people together.

I can tear people apart.

I am addictive.

I am a common language, an understanding like a friendly wave or a “good morning.”

I’ll be here for you each morning, giving you what you need to start your day.

And, I’ll still be there for the good times, bad times, and in-between times.

And I did it.

I won!

I am the winner.

All of those beep, beep, beeps got nothing on me.

You put up a great fight with those melodic tunes, but nothing is going to stop me this week.

I know what you’re thinking.

Yes, I lost three days in a row last week, but times are changing (pun intended).

I am taking my life back.

I am going to win the day.

5:20 AM it will be

Perhaps even 5:00?

Kate 1

Snooze 0

Hand in hand we walked down the dock. The marina was lined with boats, snuggled in their correct spaces. I wasn’t sure what boat we were boarding. Was it big? Was it a mega yacht? Could it be a little dingy? Back at the hotel, TR told me that this sunset cruise was for the guests of the hotel. Did this mean we were sailing with a bunch of random guests? Pushing those thoughts aside, I continued my trek down the dock, careful as to not slip. In the distance, at the very far end of the dock, I could see a few people waving their arms begging us to come their way. “This is our boat,” TR said to me (which was probably done so in a nervous/anxious tone, although I did not know that at the time).

1. “Where are the other guests,” I asked quizzically.

“it is just going to be the two of us,” said TR with a hint of slyness.

After I downloaded that we were going on a private cruise, I got way more excited. I hadn’t been on a boat since back home in Michigan years ago… pre-pandemic of course. As we were taking off our shoes to board, I looked up and a man was standing over me with a gigantic camera. He was taking photos of us left and right. Flashes were going off everywhere. I immediately turned to TR to ask, 2. “Why is there a photographer there?”

“Oh the photographer just comes with a boat. It is part of a package. We will get a shot at the Arches and stuff.” That honestly made so much sense to me. We were on vacation. We were tourists. Everything gets monetized. Meh. After that, I didn’t think anything of it.

We settled in on board. Nestled in the back surveying our surroundings. Boats were crammed in, birds flew over head, rock faces hugged us on both sides, the hot sun was still high in the sky, and the warm salty water splashing up moisturized our skin. The crew introduced themselves and told us we’d be off shortly. Before we sailed, TR asked if I wanted a drink.

One, this was our first trip post-Covid, two I am a teacher, and three we were in Mexico. So, you could probably imagine my answer.

3. “Can we have some of that champanage?” That was really the only thing I wanted as I saw it sitting in the ice bucket between a few light beers and seltzers. “Um, let’s just have a beer first,” TR replied probably wiping the sweat off his brow. I honestly didn’t think anything of it, despite the fact TR is an avid champagne drinking. But I agreed amiably to cracking open a cold beer. Hell, I was on vacation and was just happy to be there.

The boat was moving along the Sea of Cortez and we were happily slugging our cold Mexican beers. The water was calm, yet full of other boats ready to take in another beautiful Mexican sunset. We decided to move to the bow of the boat to get a better view of the iconic arches of Cabo San Lucas. The photographer told us to pose at the front of the boat for a picturesque moment with the sunset and the arches behind us. The waves were picking up and it was hard to find solid footing. The boat swayed from side to side as the photographer kept snapping pictures. TR turned around to do something and the photographer kept telling me to pose. Ugh. I really despise pictures, but I complied and continued to strike me best poses (me flexing of course).

All of a sudden, I saw TR on one knee, holding a black box, with tears in his eyes. It was his turn to ask me a question. 4. “Will you marry me?”

It seemed as though every other boat was watching, horns started to blair, drunk tourists started to shout, and applause echoed across the sea.

How did I not see it coming? I asked all the right questions, but was still got them wrong.

What questions did I get right? A solid yes and a happily ever after with my best friend, TR.

I love waking up on Saturday morning with nothing to do. The only things I truly enjoy are those little things. The little things, the minute things.

I love waking up to Toro’s paw hitting me in the face, sometimes leaving a scratch or a swollen lip.

I love waking up to Kira’s snout at the tip of my bed, hearing her breathing heavily as she anticipates her morning feed.

I love waking up next to TR knowing that he has my back and will keep me safe no matter what.

I love ordering bagels, plain and sliced only. Bethesda Bagel is the best despite what you’ve been told.

I love feeding my two dogs. Kira and Toro look forward to this as much as I.

I love making coffee in the kitchen. I use a French Press, which is worth the painstaking process.

I love listening to some of my favorite podcasts. Real Time and anything CrossFit related.

I love taking walks. Most people are still in the house, but I venture out first and enjoy the streets by myself.

I love knowing that the day is open and that there is so much promise.

Lazy Saturday’s are the best.

Typically, I do not prefer writing about teaching, as I like to escape from work. I am now in the place where I work to live not live to work. Anyway, this was too good not to share, so here it is! Yesterday, for social studies, we decided to discuss gender stereotypes as we have been learning about prominent women during the month of March. My intern and I asked students to put on their detective hats and collect evidence as to what they saw, heard, and thought while watching two different commercials. The first commercial was promoting a Barbies, specifically a beach house of some sort. Following, students shared out what they noticed.

·       Pink, white, yellow, colors

·       Girls lounging by the pool

·       Girls cooking in the kitchen

·       Tv’s were everywhere

·       One girl was blow drying the hair of a poodle

·       The poodle was adorned with a pink bow

The second commercial was an advertisement for Hot Wheels. These are the things students shared.

·       Bule, green. Orange, red colors

·       Two boys were wearing blue t-shirts

·       Setting was in the desert or what could have been a construction site

·       Words like danger, fear, win, competition, fast, race were shouted throughout

 

Following the discussion of our noticing’s, is when we talked about stereotypes and how it is important to be mindful consumers of media. I am going to add a part two as what happens after we unpack what we noticed.

I had to take a screenshot of my word document. Apologies for the formatting 🥴

some will feel nervous

I hope I don’t get anyone sick

some will feel scared

I no longer have this shield to cover my soul, emotions, and who I truly am

some will feel like a follower

I guess I’ll do it because other people are; it shows my position in this world.

——————————-

I am filled with elation

I can finally see; I can see people inside and out.

I can interact with my student’s smiling faces.

I am filled with empathy

There is something about seeing a kiddo’s face when it finally “clicks.”

I am so excited to feel the spring air on my face

I know it will be odd and uncomfortable for some

I will keep that in mind as I shout and scream on the inside

I was sitting at a table, dining al fresco in sleepy beach town. The warm wind was whipping through my hair as I stared down at a bountiful fruit plate with melons, pineapples, and unrecognizable items bright in color almost too good to eat. I held onto my fiance’s hand tightly and leaned in carefully to whisper “I cannot wait to marry you.” He said nothing back to me and simply smiled. Suddenly, I was thrown into this haze of drunkenness and thought it was a good idea to take a walk. Nobody stopped me as I began to meander through the streets. I ended up back where I started. I was standing outside an old motel with men milling about on the lawn. In my gut I knew something wasn’t quite right. I knew something was going to happen. Then, as if I was a hive, the bees swarmed me. Three older men circled around me holding something in their hands. As I looked closer, I could see long syringes. Internally I was panicking, but externally I knew I had to fight. I had to fight off these tools of death. I had to fight for my life. One after the other, syringes flew in my direction. I grabbed, I flung, and I deflected. I was playing a game of whack-a-mole. Three versus one did not bode well for me, but I was going to give it all I had. My body grew weak and tired, sadly I crumpled and gave in. I did not win, yet I still got a “prize.” The final syringe drove into my neck and the world went blurry. It felt like the earth underneath me was lava, bubbling, swaying, and moving without much stability. That’s when it went dark. After what it seemed like days, I woke up in a 7-11. People were everywhere going about their normal day buying chips and soda. I on the other hand was being held captive by these strange men. I willed myself to scream, sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t. I guess this time it did. ‘I’VE BEEN KIDNAPPED. SOMEONE HELP ME!!!” Everyone took out their phones and began to film, the typical reaction for 2022, rather than immediately calling 911. I turned around and around and around, the men were gone. And then I woke up.

It’s dreams like those that make you squeeze and hug the ones you love the most. As soon as I woke up from this dream, I grabbed fiance in the middle of the night and hugged him as hard as I could. Post dreams, you always love that person even more knowing the possibility of what could happen; luckily it didn’t happen. Then, you try to recount the dream you had to your partner, but it’s just not the same. Only you experienced it and saw it, they can try to understand but will never get the full picture. It’s ok though because I woke up.

up all night

prior to bed

eating Life cereal

underneath the sheets

heating pad glued to my abdomen

up all night

feeling the wetness

feeling the warmth

a dash to the restroom

hope I caught it in time

up all night

2 pills

then 4

find the heating pad

crank up as hot as the sun

searing my skin

up all night

it will get better

just not right now