NAMASTE! You *&^%&!!!!!

First of all, some nice news:  Welcome a new blogger, HUSKER RUNNING.  Yeah, from somewhere in Nebraska.

Now on to today’s goodies.  Some hoodlum from fifth period took a computer wire after he left class and wired me in.

It was a very mellow day, 2 periods of Rodney Yee Power Yoga, which kicked everyone’s butt, then the eyelash batting gal got in a fight and is suspended for umpteen days.  My kids are learning words like NAMASTE!, but they yell them across the courtyard to tell people to mellow out, not to greet each other.  So someone will be getting in a fight, and two guys will yell NAMASTE!!, which is now the signal for *YOU NEED TO CALM THE HELL DOWN*.

So, I tried to get out of my class during fifth period, to no avail.  J., is standing outside, and giggling.  I really wasn’t offended by the prank, but let’s just say there was, oh, a FIRE or something.  Huh.  Then, probably I’d be offended, no I’d be dead, and my family could sue and own the whole school district. 

A couple of sad notes today.  .  Divorcing in a small town is hell, compared to the big city, and I’ve done both.  I can’t hardly stand at a Starbucks with a girlfriend and discuss what’s going on with my life before *someone* hears about it.  It felt today, as if a final door on my former family had closed, when I received a very painful email…accidentally.  Never, never hit REPLY ALL.   In fact, the last thing I do when I send an email, is put in the person’s address.  I can’t tell you how many innocent conversations that have landed in the wrong lap.  Including today’s.

I volunteer for an organization that I love:  The Cub Scouts.  I am a leader of one of our groups.  I have one of *those* parents, who thinks I must drop everything to accomodate her needs.  She is angy at me because I didn’t read her mind about a meeting.  Time after time, she appears to think that I work for her.  Hello?  I’m a single Mom,  I teach in purgatory High School , and I’m a VOLUNTEER leader.

Lastly, I think I have finally, finally tried to come to terms with my STBX, who although had been sweet and kind as of late, once more slammed my heart to the ground.  Looks like we’re headed to a trial by default. 

I have Plantar Facilitis.  It hurts.  But not when I run.  I did 3.5 today, and have to rest until Sunday when we are scheduled for 5.

So, Namaste, you bastards.

leave your old self behind.

So this goes through everyone’s mind, huh?  Thought it was only me.  I was looking at Pearl Izumi’s new ad in Runner’s World today. 

If you ran without sacrifice, congratulations.  You just jogged.

What Murakami says in his book is that no matter how far you run, there are some things that all runners understand and can identify with. 

This Youtube was me this morning.  We did 4.4 hard miles.  (Now, mind you, I read marathoner’s blogs, so I’m sure they are laughing at my “hard 4”)…The hardest running I’ve had in awhile.  I had to Drop the E at the Shell station only one mile in after a lovely sushi dinner last night.  I really really didn’t want to stop only 12 minutes in, but it seems there was no choice to be had.  I had to talk myself through the third mile, as if I was a first grader.  Even the Chariots of Fire theme song didn’t help.  Over the catwalk, I practically crawled.  I think I have Plantar Fascilitis, and in a bit of denial about it.

Only week 2 in our Half training, and I’m draggin’.  It’s 2pm on a Sunday, and [horrors!] I’m still in my jammies.  Can’t seem to get moving.

In terms of school.  It’s hard.  Harder than I ever thought it would be.  The only real thing that calms my gangbangers and wannabees is Yoga.  Wish we could do it all day.  I overheard them talking about how long they could hold the Proud Warrior position.  Kinda cool.  During 6th period, I was getting so frustrated because they wouldn’t stop talking.  One of them yelled, “Namaste” from the back of the room.  It ticked me off, even if his intentions were good.  They weren’t.  He was being passive-aggressive and sarcastic.  I just looked at him and said, Get out.  That’s when I hit the wall, figuratively speaking.

Spent the day yesterday clearing out the bad energy, saging, and hanging curtains.  Until yesterday, my students looked out of barred windows to the trash bins in the parking lot.  I changed the tables to a U-shape.  I put away the punishing textbooks, and scattered the novels all around.  I created an environment that I’d really like to have.  My friend Steph, (she talks to dead people, really) helped me do the saging in all the corners of the room.  When she came to the place where I sit, she said, “Something really interesting is going on in this wall.”  I said, yeah I sit there when I’m furious.  The sage smoked like crazy.  Do I know what this means?  No, and I don’t care.

I added lavender, and currently there are lemons soaking up all the bad energy.  I hung dragonfly lights for positive change.  We said a  prayer, and blessed the room.  You might think I’m crazy, but like the title of my post.  I want to leave my old teaching self behind, and I’m desperate to find the answer.

The hard, “My way or the Highway” isn’t working with this crowd.  Onward.

Hot Yoga. Yes. Hot.

Today’s cross training was brought to you by the hot cop who was right behind me in Yoga class.  I’ve been separated for a year and a half, and I’m not looking.  At all. 

It’s amazing, however, how having a male in my class makes me do the Yoga poses so very very perfectly.  There was no wiggling during Tree Pose.  I did the Pigeon with expertise.  Downward dog?  None better. 

I have suddenly become aware that the world is filled with people that are of the male persuasion.  I live in a very small town, and again…I’m not available…but suddenly, there they are…and they’re everywhere.  However, the hot cop in the class suddenly made me not just notice, but actually sit up and take notice.

Perhaps my addled brain is due to the all day boy fest we had yesterday.  Four boys, Pizza, swimming, Journey to the Center of the Earth (in 3D, with glasses!), Tae Kwon Do & Cub Scouts.  When I finally put the boys into bed, I gave them the 3B lecture.

“Don’t come and get me unless you are bleeding, barfing, or have a broken bone.”  Susan reminded me today that *house on fire* should be in that category.  Gymnotes #1 came in with blood on his foot, but they were giggling, so I assume it was a manufactured injury.

I watched Generation Kill, and How to Look Good Naked.  Finally fell asleep, blissfully at 11:30 or so.  Just needed some down time.  Am going out of town for a quick LA trip, this being my last weekend before work on August 5th.  As I’m typing this, they are yelling for me to play Monopoly. 

Hot Yoga.  Cures what ails you.