An Open Letter to Ronda Rousey


Dear Ronda,

First and foremost, I want to say I’m a huge fan.  You have singlehandedly put women on the sports map for MMA.  However, from recent articles it seems you are in need of a pep talk from a female friend.  Let me be that friend.

There was an article published online where you told your mother your new mantra was “FTA”.  (For frequent readers of this blog who might be under 18, we will just say that stands for “Forget Them All”).  I agree with your mom.  You don’t need to use this mantra. 

Look, I know you are dealing with a lot on your shoulders with your upcoming fight against, “what’s-her-face”.  You are angry from your loss in November of 2015.  You are angry because people tried to put you down or tried to steal your shine.  Let me put things in perspective for you for what it’s worth.

Nobody will really know the name of the person you fought 15 years from now.  Heck, I don’t even remember her name now and would have to google it.  Look at what happened after that loss; you fulfilled one of my long time dreams of being on Saturday Night Live.  Note who they asked…YOU.  Not the other gal.  You.

You performed a skit in which you stood against bullies.  You know what it is like to be bullied, and I don’t see anyone else performing that skit better than you.  That skit was so funny, I showed it to the kids I help teach.  

After your loss you admitted to depression and facing a lot of dark areas.  You opened up a lot of minds with that statement.  You could have kept it secret, but instead you let it out there into a world where there is still a stigma attached to it.  You helped others to see it is okay to be dealing with stuff in a dark way, which is completely normal even though society tells us it isn’t.

You say your new mantra is for your nieces, family and fans who haven’t given up on you.  Ronda, I haven’t given up on you.  I will say this though; if you hadn’t had the backlash from “haters”, would you have had the anger to fuel you for this next bout?  By saying, “FTA” to te opposition, you are only proving them right.  You are proving hate is a way of life.  You are feeding into what the other teams want; which is you getting angry enough that you sabotage yourself.  They are betting on the false hope that your anger will open up any weaknesses they can exploit.  Don’t let them do this.

In a strange way, anger can get you through some tough times (trust me, I’ve had some).  Be thankful for the anger, but don’t let that anger dull anything that makes you happy.  Don’t let the anger get in the way of your passion for the sport.  Ultimately this is why you are still in.  Not just any woman would voluntarily train as hard as you do to get a few licks to the face.  You obviously are putting yourself at risk because there is something you love about the sport.  

Prove the others wrong.  You aren’t fueled just by anger.  You are also fueled by love.  Love for the sport, love for your family, love for your friends and your loyal fans.  Never give up, never give in.

Merry Christmas and Sincerely yours,

Quirky Girl

15 minutes

When I was younger I wanted to be famous.  Let’s just put that out there.  When you were a kid, you wanted to be famous too, you might as well admit it.  Any kid worth their salt wants to be famous. Even if you wanted to be something with relative anonymity like an inventor, scientist, teacher, you could still be famous for it somehow.

There was also something else I wanted when I was younger.  At the beginning of the school year there’s nothing sweeter than the smell of a fresh notebook before the school season starts.  For me, going down the aisles of our local store shopping for school supplies was always one of my favorite parts of the year.  Everything was new, everything was still fresh, untouched and more importantly, it was the time of year where we were excited because everyone had the same grades.

One afternoon, I was perusing the blank pages of my new 5 subject notebook while sitting on my bedroom floor.  The Mead company had really outdone themselves that year.  Back in the early 90’s we didn’t have the internet, cell phones or access to call a company ran by several ladies and Katharine Hepburn who knew the answers to everything.

“Desk Set cinema poster” by Source (WP:NFCC#4). Licensed under Fair use via Wikipedia –

Instead, Mead came up with the great idea of putting times tables in the back, along with a few other helpful goodies.

One of the helpful things listed on the final page of the notebook; quotes from famous people.  You had the likes of Winston Churchill mingling with Thomas Edison.  You might have had a quote from George Washington Carver or Marie Curry.  As my eyes read the quotes one by one, an alarming one seized my brain.

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Who was this Andy?  Why did he think this?  I knew several “Andys” and none of them had ever thought this or said anything of this nature to me.  They were usually too busy telling jokes or singing songs to other girls on the school bus.  Why was this guy so special he had a quote?  Surely he was a scientist or something and knew something we all didn’t.  I imagined a man sitting there with a giant calculator and a notebook trying to exact the least amount of minutes one would have for fame.

Next thing, my mind flitted to the amount of times I had been mentioned in the local newspaper.  There was that time my third grade class was featured because we all dressed up funny for school spirit week. That was probably about 6 seconds for every person who decided to read the paper that day and glazed over my name.  I knew everyone in class bought a copy so that was exactly 6 seconds times 30 kids and one teacher.  That is 3 minutes and 10 seconds off my fifteen minutes this Andy had guaranteed me.  Then there was the time I won an award in the science fair.

CRAP.

Sure it was great winning an award, but then there goes about another 3 minutes and 10 seconds of my fame, plus the time it took distant relatives to read the article which my family made sure to send them.

Within 5 minutes I had looked at my life like it was a cell phone plan, before there were cellphones.  I wasn’t worried that I wasn’t living, I wasn’t worried about finishing school, falling in love, making the coolest art, or writing the best paper.  As far as my 12 year old self was concerned I didn’t even have time for a bucket list.

I was too scared I had used up my minutes.

Lucky for me, there is more to life than fame.

What as something silly that you were afraid you had limited time on?

The Seussical Substitute

Two weeks ago I gained a deeper understanding of the book, “Cat in the Hat”.

Georgia Portrait (4th Grader)

A student’s rendering of my likeness. (The quickly scrawled bird was my doing.)

It all started when I walked into a 4th grade classroom, comfortable, cozy and ready to teach.  When I walked down to the gym to escort the students to the classroom, they looked curious and as if they were about to have fun.  (Somehow I think my glasses give them that impression.)

The main thing I try to get across to students, is learning can be fun, it doesn’t have to be this dreaded thing you are forced to be carted to 5 days of the week.  The more fun you have learning, chances are the more you will remember.  We started the morning working on prepositional phrases.  This is something we went over at University recently , and people in their 20’s, 30’s and even 40’s are still struggling to understand prepositional phrases.  Because kids at this age generally try so hard at this, they feel they should understand and “get” everything in the first try.  I emphasized that we were still studying this at my age and then they began to ease up on being so hard on themselves.

Once they realized they could be calm and themselves around me, they started peeling back their guarded layers.  One student showed me their writing book.  In it she had written a book about a Monster school, complete with Banana pudding pranks and more.  As I read it, a smile couldn’t be kept from creeping across my face.  When I told her I really enjoyed both of her stories, it was as if she finally gained acceptance of her creativity and an acknowledgement of her originality.  She nodded with a satisfied smile.

Before they had to take a break to go to their other classes, one student quickly asked me to draw a Garfield on the board.  Within seconds I had drawn the head of the beloved feline character.  By the time I turned around, instead of it being the original boy who had asked for the drawing, it was the entire class gathered around the board to see how it was done.

I was in a class with kindred spirits.  Many were budding writers, cartoonists and illustrators. All of them with original unique ideas on how to do things.  These students were struggling because they were being forced to be in a box when they were capable of doing so much more.  Were their drawings perfect?  Were their stories completely free of grammatical errors?  No.  They finally understood everything takes work and time to make it perfect, they just wanted someone to let them know they were on the path of getting there.

cat in the hat person

The boy who had asked for the Garfield on the board drew his own version when he came back and it was amazing. A few other students, once they saw how it was done, started experimenting and trying their own hand at drawing Garfield.

From my own experience and from the students’ experience, by accomplishing one thing and being good at it, the simple joy from this one act can make you feel capable of doing anything of intellectual value.

I had to dismiss them for lunch, and went to eat my own in the teacher’s lounge.  All of the teachers there were wonderful, amazing and incredibly nurturing.  You could tell they cared about the students and their job by how they painstakingly painted and decorated their place of lunchtime respite.  Because I’d never taught there before, I was nervous and after devouring a sandwich, I went to pick up the kids.

I was early.

As I stood there at the door, one of my students was sitting with kids from other classes, when suddenly one of the children he was sitting with shouted, “Hey you should come sub for our class sometime!”  I told him I would love to if given the opportunity.

When we finally came back from lunch we started to work on math skills.  When I was younger and their age, math was a struggle for me.  It has been ever since Kindergarten.  It doesn’t mean I’m not smart, it just means it was something I had to work at more so than most students.  Knowing that this class was full of kindred souls, it was going to be a challenging subject for them.  Since I’m the ripe age of 35, it’s obvious I’ve had much practice in getting multiplication painstakingly down pat.  The students who were having issues I gave individual attention to, occasionally breaking to do a problem on the board when more than one student had difficulty with a particular problem.

Then came the class clown.  She had been acting up all day.  Mind you, it wasn’t in a bad way.  She is the kind of student who is very bright, and excels at most subjects except for one, Math.  All day she would finish her work and then instigate other side projects she had going on like a fake raffle she had put together or purposely asking random questions to throw students off their game.

In the morning when she first started acting up, I knew her name by the seating chart.  She was impressed that “the sub” knew her name.  Then she asked if she could instead be called by her middle name which she liked better.  I told her if she behaved the rest of the day that I would comply.  She tried, she really did try to be a good student.  However her intelligence got the better of her as she became bored easily.

When we got to math however, she raised her hand asking for help.  With her head down on the palm of her hand, she calmly stated, “I don’t get it”.  I felt horrible for her because I knew exactly what she was experiencing.  I had been on my knees trying to sit at desk level while showing her how to work the numbers right to left.  She was silent but you could tell something was really getting to her.  She went to an empty table, and brought a chair over for me to sit on while helping her.  She then said, “I think you have gum on your shoe by the way.”  Quickly I looked at my shoes and realized there was a indeed something there but it wasn’t gum.  I looked at her and said, “It’s a raisin. I think it might have come from my house.” Smiling at her she smiled back and as we tried to go over the math problems. Her eyes started watering. Within seconds it wasn’t hard to notice it was more than just “allergies”. I asked her if she was alright.  She was putting on a brave face trying to be strong and said, “I’m fine, I don’t know why I’m getting teary eyed, this just happens sometimes.”  Thinking it was her frustration with math I then calmly said, “You know what, it’s O.K. Math was really frustrating for me when I was your age too.  It can be a frustrating subject.”

It didn’t become clear until much later what was going on.  As we packed up to get ready to go home, the class clown drew the opening picture of this blog entry.  Everyone had been dismissed to their bus while the class clown remained behind with a few other students to be picked up by their parents.

“We’re going to miss you.”

It was then I realized the reason for the tears.  The class clown realized earlier our fun had to end.  We wouldn’t be getting to see each other on Monday.  They were not my students to teach and tend to every Monday through Friday until May.  I was not their teacher to show them it is okay to be unique, a little offbeat and to make mistakes because that is how you learn.  The moment was settling into all of us.

I walked them to their parents’ cars and the gymnasium.  Knowing I had reached and helped them as much as they helped me, cementing my purpose in this life, it was a long drive home.

“That is it, that is that”, and I was gone with the tip of my hat.

The Cat in the Hat

Amendment 3…a big no no!

As most of you know I’m studying to be a an English teacher for middle school and junior high students.  Those of you who live in Missouri, please vote “NO” on Amendment 3 coming up in the election on Tuesday.  Here is why, standardized testing.MO

The amendment proposes there be standardized testing with the success of the students’ scores determining whether or not someone like me gets to keep their job.  Many of you know how I feel about my job as a substitute.  I love my job.  By this time next fall, I hope to be teaching English in the local school systems while earning a Master’s degree.

The problem with Amendment 3 is it rests the responsibility of the teachers’ jobs on the shoulders of the youth.  Many might see this as a positive.  If the teacher is doing what they should, the students in turn should test well, right?  Wrong.

I was discussing with my mother the problem with this.  Everyone learns differently.  There are eight ways of learning.  If we reduce ourselves statewide to a number on a test, then we are only teaching the students to learn what we tell them and regurgitate.

I told my mother, I was one of those students who tried hard, studied and made decent grades but when it came to the SAT’s, my mind short circuited and I had to take the test 3 separate times.  I still have problems taking tests, my mind sort of blanks out the important information and I can only remember other things I was taught.  This happened with my first test in English Grammar this semester, I couldn’t remember the 8 morphemes, when ultimately I knew them.

This is what I’m afraid of, students who are like me, who know what they’re doing, who test poorly and suffer from test anxiety, will decide the outcome of many teachers.  It isn’t their fault and they should not be held accountable for an adult’s job when the adult has done everything they can to prepare that student.

There is also the other kind of test taker, the student who doesn’t care.  Sometimes they are the brightest kid in the room, but maybe they haven’t been taught proper etiquette, manners and respect for their elders.  They simply do not care and sometimes will do their worst to spite a teacher.  I have seen it happen.

So that leaves all the other students in-between.  Some students may or may not study and will do mediocre, some will do fantastic.  I don’t feel it is right for the outcome of anyone’s job to rely on a few select people.

Also by teaching students to only memorize and regurgitate on a standardized test, we aren’t teaching them to be well-rounded.  We aren’t teaching them problem solving skills, logic, and worst of all, we aren’t teaching them to think for themselves.  Will they actually be applying their skills and learning what they need?

Will Science teachers be able to perform experiments in their classes asking them to form a hypothesis and test the outcomes?  Will Math teachers be able to help their students apply theories and practices?  Will English teachers be able to teach their students how to write short stories teaching them about plot, motifs, and character?  Will History teachers be able to teach what is needed or will History be doomed to repeat itself?  What about the arts?  How can an Art teacher and Drama teacher standardize their curriculum when their students are supposed to stand out and have a “voice” of their own?

To put things in perspective, Einstein had trouble communicating and learning in a standardized way. He didn’t fully start speaking until he was 4.  Even when he first applied to university, he excelled in the Sciences and Math but did not pass the requirements needed for History, Languages, and Geography.  If Einstein were alive today would you want his standardized tests to decide the outcome of your career?

Whoopi Goldberg and Richard Branson both dropped out due to frustrations with Dyslexia.  Whoopi reflected on her Dyslexia by saying, “I knew I wasn’t stupid, and I knew I wasn’t dumb…. They knew I wasn’t lazy, but what was it?”  Thomas Edison’s teachers wrongfully and insultingly told him he was too stupid to learn anything.

I will say it again, everyone learns differently.  Everyone has strengths and weaknesses.  We weren’t meant to be good at everything.  By standardizing tests, we will inevitably leave people behind and potentially no one will ever figure out where they shine.

Obviously advancements have been made in the world of teaching, but if we favor Amendment 3, we will no longer find out if we have geniuses, comedians, business tycoons or inventors in our classrooms.Einstein fish

Compassionate Pineapple

When I was in the middle of moving from St. Louis back to my hometown three years ago I remarked to a close friend that I was going to start training to become a boxer.  She said, “You can’t do that.”  Slightly offended I asked why and she quipped, “You’re too sweet.” Boxing cat and dog In a way she was right.  I was a pineapple without it’s rougher exterior.  I wore my heart on my sleeve and allowed myself to be vulnerable to everything.  Fast forward to last week.

Last week was my first for substitute teaching.  As much as it pained me to leave my co-workers at my last job, this new job is the first step in a journey of becoming a certified teacher. What many don’t realize is the first step comes with a lot of tests.

I’m not talking about  literal tests where you have to fill in all those little dots until your hands bleed.  The tests many of us remember taking in college and high school. The ones where we darkened in the bubbles with the worn down graphite in our pencils only to discover we missed a question and had to erase and start over again. The tests I’m talking about are the ones the students put you through.

When you start substituting, you might think, “Oh I’ve got this.  I’m older, I’m smarter.”  Don’t kid yourself, you’re not.  On paper, you might be.  You might even have a piece of paper you forked over thousands of dollars for to say you know how to do something at an expert level, I do.  However it only proves you know how to do something.  It doesn’t prove you know how to work with people. It doesn’t prove you know how to treat a child coming from a home where their only source of parental affection comes from a television.  It doesn’t prove you are an expert in someone’s past.  It can however get you a foot in the door to doing something you really love.

I have a degree.  Proof that I have taken over sixty credit hours in school.  Proof that I can concentrate long enough to make a decent grade.  All the proof I need to willingly submit to being tested by some of the toughest people on the planet…grade schoolers.

They will try to tell you the teacher’s lesson plan.  They will knowingly pass notes about farting superheroes hoping they will get caught.  They will feign tummy aches and ouchies just to get out of class.  They will try to give you guilt trips and hold you responsible for losing a book that has been on their desk the whole time.  They will see just how many things they can get away with before their substitute for the day gives up.

Boxing taught me to tough out what you think will inevitably kill you.  It taught me to have confidence and to believe in myself.  My life training in retail, dealing with customers and quirky co-workers has taught me patience.  These kids weren’t ready for a teacher who wasn’t going to shout at them.  They weren’t ready for a teacher who was going to tough out their tests.  They weren’t ready for a teacher who doesn’t give up, or give in to their scheming plans to get out of learning correct grammar and punctuation.  They weren’t ready for someone who understands what it’s like to be a kid.

As I taught them, they taught me.

“Thank you for being nice to us even though we were bad,” remarked one of my students. The more I teach, the tougher my exterior becomes, yet at the same time, I find my insides getting sweeter. cat pineapple What life experience has taught you something when you least expected it?  

Gross Domestic Happiness

My husband and I are moving.  We are packing up the cats as we speak and teaching them how to meow in Dzongkha and Japanese.

In a former blog post I mentioned one of the five things people didn’t know about me is I wanted an assignment where I would travel and write about the destinations I’ve visited.  Obviously on this trip my husband would accompany me to help document our activities.  He is a professional photographer and the last time I took a picture I looked like this:

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Granted this all sounds very much like “Eat, Pray, Love” but it would be quirkier, I’m traveling WITH my husband and not starting out single.  Call it a “Couple’s Quest for Intrinsic Happiness”.

The truth is we aren’t really moving.  We recently watched a documentary titled, “Happy” on Netflix.happy PosterThe entire film was fascinating and a couple of things stood out to me.  Half way through the film the crew went to Bhutan and talked about the main concern of the country being “Gross National Happiness”.  Whereas most countries concentrate on the amount of money they’re bringing in, what exports they can sell to who, and how to turn the income from the sale into goods for themselves, Bhutan realized what was truly important, their people.

The nation as a collective has decided not to concentrate on material concerns.  The material concerns caused them to move established communities, upheaving a life they once knew, eliminate forestry cover and lose spiritual sites for a time.  Gross National Product in turn was causing more harm than good so instead, they decided to pursue Gross National Happiness.  Going into it they knew they wouldn’t be a nation of monetary wealth.  They have only just started this endeavor and we have yet to see what comes of their pursuits.  They believe the happiness of their people in turn will be rewarding, helping them lead prosperous, longer lives.

(It is a proven fact, the happier a person is and the people around them, the longer they live.)

This brings me to the next country we would like to move to, Japan.  There are two reasons I would love to visit the island of Okinawa.  The Okinawans have the longest living population in the world, most live to be one hundred years old.  They farm together, eat dinner together and through the farming, provide gifts of food for their family and friends.  This sounds like a dream to me, this is my first reason for visiting the beautiful island.

They interviewed elderly women at a local community center and the women spoke of “ichariboachode” (you are brother and sister even if you have met for the first time) and “monchu” (one family).  Some of the women were captives in World War II.  When they lost their families, they had their neighbors and communities to rely on.  Everyone took care of each other.

My Grandfather was in the 6th Marine Division during World War II, went to Okinawa and helped rescue some of these women from the caves they were hidden in on the island.  My Grandfather barely spoke of this, his heart was broken over the condition in which he found these women and children.  When I spoke to my parents about this film my mother said some resonating words, “Your Grandpa would be so happy that in time these people found happiness.” She is right.  This is the second reason I would love to visit Okinawa.  In some way, by visiting, I feel it would bring closure to an issue my Grandfather had for a long time.  By seeing with my own eyes, their happiness, and in turn letting them know he carried that burden with him for so long, it would be a meeting of happiness and healing for the parties involved.

My Grandfather in China circa1945

My Grandfather in China circa1945

My Grandfather on a tug boat Circa 1943-1945 (?)

My Grandfather on a tug boat Circa 1943-1945 (?)

For one nation to realize the meaning of life is not in the possession of things but within ourselves, faith and each other is a huge step, I feel, in the right direction.  I want to go with my husband to Bhutan and maybe accidentally get stuck between two prayer wheels, so I can say “It’s alright, I’m between prayers right now!”.  I want to explore what makes the people of Bhutan happy and how they plan to ensure happiness for future generations.

I want to go to Okinawa and speak to some of the women who may have met my Grandpa. I want to ask them how through the sorrows of war they made the journey back to happiness.

I want to travel to the places I only heard my grandpa speak of and where my great-aunt would bring back souvenirs like a tiny bronze Buddha statue.  Even though both my grandpa and great-aunt were devout Christians, they still saw the beauty in other peoples’ faiths and cultures.  I want to see what they saw.

I want to see, understand and live happiness like the people in these countries.  Maybe in turn if someone were to employ my husband and I to travel to these places, in writing the book about the experiences, it would help others to look within, reflect and see what their passion truly is, what truly makes them happy.

 If any of my readers are from Bhutan or Okinawa I would like to know what you think about the representation of your countries in the documentary.  Do you feel it is accurate?  Do you feel you are intrinsically happy or are you still seeking it?

     To my other readers, what makes YOU happy? Happy 

 

 

One Lovely Blog Award (part Deux)

Thanks to Sherry at The Lunch Lady blog for awarding me with the One Lovely Blog Award!  Everyone should head over to her blog right now for some inspiration.  She is a tea connoisseur, a whiz with refurbishing, and a wonderful blogger! one-blog-lovely-award

As part of accepting this award, I must tell you all seven things about me, some you might possibly not know.  Here they are in no particular order:

1.  I want to travel to unique places in the world and get paid to write about my travels.  I feel like I live under a rock sometimes because I don’t get out enough.  There are special parks locally and I wonder why I’ve never heard of, or been to these places.  Apparently there is a large “cat” sanctuary in Arkansas.  You can stay in cabins on the premises and hear the Lions speak to each other across the park in low, thundering trills as you wake in the morning.

2.  I really enjoy reading and writing short stories.  Inevitably, you have to do a lot of editing, but strangely, short story writing gives you freedom to get right in to the nitty-gritty of the plot.  My particular emphasis is on character development, you may not relate to the characters, but there is just something about them that appeals to the reader.  Let’s just say, I love writing so much, I aced my creative writing course!  Not to brag or anything.

3.  I’ve tweeted back and forth with the real life Wonder Woman, Linda Carter.  On several occasions.  Again, not to brag or anything.

4.  I collect the tops of Honest Tea bottles and the tags from Yogi Tea bags.  Somehow I think one day I will have time to do an art project inlaying the bottle caps on a table top where-in I pour acrylic over them to preserve the well written six-word essays inscribed in the bottle caps.  I also think one day I will have time to make jewelry out of the tea bag tags.  This has been two years in the making.

5.  I’m still catching up on the classics of literature.  This summer I read The Great Gatsby for the first time and loved it.  Any given day I might be reading 3 books at the same time.  Currently I’m reading Tracks, The Kinetic Keeper (a book by my cousin), An Autobiography of a Yogi, and soon I will be reading To Kill a Mockingbird.

6.  I love watching people’s reactions when they taste my food for the first time…especially if I’m proud of it.

7.  I stink at Baby Shower games.  Here is evidence:IMG_0272

Now to continue this on and pay the love forward from Ms. Sherry’s blog, here are the following people I would like to nominate!

O.K. bloggers here are the rules to accept the award…and I look forward to hearing more about YOU!

1. You must thank the person who nominated you and include a link to their blog.

2. You must list the rules and display the award.

3. You must add 7 facts about yourself.

4. You must nominate 15 other bloggers and comment on one of their posts to let them know they have been nominated.

5. You must display the award logo and follow the blogger who nominated you.Unlike the Liebster Award which is aimed at newbie bloggers, this award has no restriction as to who you can nominate!

Random Thoughts

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When I told my sister -in-law I was off the Facebook horse she asked how she would know when a new Quirky Girl post has been written. Simple. I told her a light would shine brightly in the sky for her but unlike Batman my signal would be more apt…a silhouette of just my glasses. Then again maybe this is not such a good idea. People might think we are signaling Groucho Marx and we all know that isn’t happening. Not only would Groucho probably belittle our little poke at pop cultural phenomena he wouldn’t show up because he has the audacity to be deceased.

If Ferns were capable of having cognizant thought, they could come together and write a script for their own television show called “Fronds”.

If you have landed on this blog expecting pictures of Miley Cyrus dancing, you’ve obviously not spell checked yourself. You were looking for “Diary of a Twerky Girl”.

I have an irrational fear of Neil Diamond. It might have something to do with my former boss blasting his music in the store at decibels no one should have to experience. When his music plays, images of a middle aged gentleman belting out vocals with such gusto to the extent his chest hair pops out of his shirt come to mind. There really can be too much of a good thing, just look at Elvis.

Liberace had some of the coolest bedazzled boots and shoes. Ringo Starr and Steve Martin come in second just because theirs are generally more practical. (Check out their Twitter feed!)

It would be cool if for one day my co-workers and I could talk like Sammy Davis Jr. or Lawrence Welk. However as my co-worker pointed out, we might have to explain the impression in order to exhibit them in front of younger customers.

On the way to work, I have a hard time deciding what song I would sing during my imaginary audition on The Voice. I’m waiting secretly for a follow up show to The Voice called, “The Backup”. The scenario plays out like this; three people get a chance to win and go on tour with the coach of their choice. My odds are better in this version, if I don’t know the words I just mouth the words while the other two contestants sing. Who was off key? No one would be able to figure it out…unless the other contestants don’t know the words either. I really didn’t think this through, scratch this it’s a terrible idea. Nobody would be entertained by trios of contestants silently flapping their gums.

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What random thoughts have you had this week?

Project Hi 5

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Within the last couple of weeks I stumbled upon some blogs worth mentioning here. There are quite a few I read but just wanted to draw attention to these two in particular.

These two blogs, The Apartment Wife and The Duck and the Owl have all started projects in which they spread good will, good vibes while getting to know others in their neighborhoods, towns and cities. How did they do this? I’m glad you asked. If you would like, you can check them out by clicking on their names above to get the full story but I will provide you with a synopsis.

They are folks like myself tired of being a stranger in their own town. They are tired of people being afraid to get to know their neighbors, to get to know people in their town and tired of being lonely. Most of all, they want to put a smile on someone’s face. It all started with Apartment Wife printing off cards with positive phrases to hand to strangers while she was out and about with a few friends. The Duck and the Owl feeling inspired by her did their own version by leaving positive comments in random places in their town at shops and eateries.

After reading the affects of their projects and social experiments, it got me to thinking about what could be done in our town here in Southwest Missouri. I started talking to a few regulars about the idea I had that fell in line with the other three bloggers and while the regulars at my store attentively listened, they all said the same thing; they thought it was a good idea.

One of the regulars even went as far as to admitting to doing something similar on her own with one of her best friends and they handed out cards and roses, and in fact even helped change the life of one woman they bumped into.

The truth is readers, I may not have money, I may not have the means to fund a huge project to help those who are in dire straits and need a place to live, but I do have a big heart. It hurts turning on the news, whether it is national or local, and seeing tragedies unfold because someone didn’t feel accepted, loved, or even acknowledged. Sometimes it feels as if all these people needed maybe at one point in their life was a smile or a hug, someone to maybe help them redirect their sails on their lifeboat.

Eventually I started asking around at work to a few people who I knew who felt the same. They also wanted to make a difference and make people smile. They just want the same thing for everyone else, for everyone to just be happy. Happy is a state of mind that goes unchanged whether you are in a storm or not. It might be hard to get out of, but there is always a silver lining, it just may not be laid out yet…friends and strangers can help you get back to smooth waters; I should know.

My husband, myself, colleagues and their significant others have all come up with a plan. We are calling it, “Project Hi 5.” We are going around with cards with our logo and a link to our blog to explain who we are and what our mission is, along with an inspirational saying, or just a joke printed on the other side of the card to make someone smile.

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(It will probably be like one of Steve Martin’s cards, but still thats something right?)

The idea is, people take the card with them and hopefully they will put it some place where they can see it, have access to it and be reminded they are not alone and it will get better. Then they can follow the link to our website so they can keep up and let us know where in town they were “Hi 5’d”. In order to receive the card, they have to “Hi 5” one of us. This is just our way to break the ice and to establish a connection to someone.

Truth is, we are all tired of being strangers. When you don’t know your neighbors, co-workers or people around you, it not only makes you lonely but in a way it’s like living in fear. We want to draw people out of this mentality. Not only do we want to draw them out, but we will offer them to join us.

Please stay tuned to the Project Hi 5 blog to learn all about the progress of spreading contagious smiles and who the individuals are contributing to this group of social misfits.

Do you ever feel like you could have benefited from someone just saying hi or giving you a hug? What were you going through at the time you could have used a “Hi 5” ?

This teacher publishes comic books successfully.

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The title of this blog is a six word sentence I have chosen for my future. These are the six words, I will bring to fruition. Before making the predicate part of the sentence a reality, first I must become the subject.

Today’s daily post challenge on WordPress is to come up with a six word sentence describing your future.

In recent months I’ve been praying and meditating on what to do about a major life decision. Life has been a bit difficult financially here of late therefore causing me to re-plan my original life blueprint. A lot of people my age are having to reroute their lives as if they are a satellite navigation system in their car.

As you know I majored with a degree in Fine Art. This isn’t exactly the most stable degree, especially in an economy like this one. Having a bit of a dilemma I’ve had conversations with people about my life plan as now it’s not just my life but I share it with my husband.

Curiously my Mother-in-law and I were having a conversation one day when she suddenly said, “Have you thought about teaching…” Honestly years ago I had considered becoming an art teacher but due to unforeseen reasons that plan didn’t work.

I had my heart intent on changing the world one classroom at a time through art, by helping children understand the importance of art. I wanted to teach them it was o.k. to think differently and be in the likes of tortured but wonderful and humorous companions such as Van Gogh and Frida Kahlo. I wanted to teach them to see the world through a kaleidoscope of colors, not just black and white. I wanted to teach them to think and see differently and learn people can speak many languages by communicating through the visual arts.

My Mother-in-law finished her sentence, “…English?” This was the first time anyone had suggested teaching something other than art to me. This was the seed planted in my brain that slowly started sprouting this summer. Suddenly I realized my gift of being able to communicate with children and awkward junior high kids may not be lost. My parents have always seen my gift with children and knew I had something special.

Then the second sign came a few weeks ago. My husband received a call from a best friend. He didn’t tell her everything that had been going through my mind, the questioning, the self doubt about the possibility of teaching something which in essence is my second language; art always has and always will be my first language. She told him over the phone, “She would make a great middle school teacher.”

Then came the third sign, this is the one that has been a constant. My friend of 12 years has said to me numerous times since 2007 I need to bite the bullet and become a teacher. She witnessed my gift first hand when we worked together and I basically babysat children in the fitting room of the store we worked. She even enrolled my help the weekend of her wedding sitting me next to the most talkative children of her family knowing full well we’d be in full on conversation mode before the adults even broke into the festivities. Last week something private happened (which I won’t discuss here) and I texted her about it. My phone buzzed, I quickly looked at it to see my third sign in text form. Her response was, “Become a teacher.”

I couldn’t believe it, three signs. People have always said things come in threes.

I finally sat down and told my parents of my plans a few weeks ago of how I might be going back to school next January. The more I talked about it the more excited I became. As I sat there, I started hatching lesson plans over the belief I would share a common interest with some of my students; comic books.

Comic books were my gateway into becoming a better reader, writer and… artist. What better way to combine three of my loves? Then it came to me to teach my future imaginary students how to write a comic book. Then the plan became more elaborate, why not combine this project with the art students who will help illustrate it for them if they can not illustrate it themselves? Then this lesson plan also integrates communication skills, because as we all know, what the writer and the artist sees are not always the same thing.

The excitement over exploring this lesson plan made me think of another plan, why not publish these books? We could combine all of the books the students made, and then publish them so all students and anyone who wanted to purchase them could. All of the proceeds would then go back into the school’s pockets.

This morning, as I rode in my car, I did my usual prayers. I prayed for my family, my friends, my co-workers. Then I asked God for another sign. This might seem demanding to ask considering I had already received three signs. Basically I said, “Look, I know you’ve sent these signs, but I want to make sure I heard you right. Please if you are sending me a sign, make it to where I know and please help me to listen to you.” I like to be certain of things now in my older age. I’ve grown tired of not looking before I leap, there is too much at stake now to leap without eyes.

I think my response sign came a few hours later at work this morning. My friend was helping a mother and her young daughter at the counter. I was on the other side and happened to see the young girl whose head didn’t even reach the counter. Strangely she reminded me of me in first grade. She had been dressed by her mother but so much of her personality was bursting at the seams it was hard to keep herself in the assumed pristine condition she was dressed in when she left the house. Seeing this bubbly young girl, I made my way over to her and said, “High five!” She was in the middle of eating a morsel of a pear and quickly shoved the pear in her mouth as she exuberantly gave me a high five with the pear residue still on her tiny fingers. She quickly said, “Hang on, I have to wipe the pear off my hands!” Without skipping a beat, with one swipe on her shirt she then quickly slapped my hand as an affirmation of excellence in being true to who you are.

I had to make my way to the back to put something away and then made my way to the computer to print off tags. I heard some commotion on the other side of the restaurant when suddenly I found the little girl standing on the other side of the counter looking at me with her innocent eyes. She said, “Hey you’re really pretty today.” Taken back by her kind words and her uninhibited way of delivering them, I quickly made sure to compliment her on her shoes and outfit, but before I could even get the words out about her outfit she held up her entire leg to show me a different angle of her shoes and exclaimed, ” My Nana got them for me!”

I then asked her, “So have you started school yet?” Her reply, “Weeeelllll YEAH!” As she tried to unfurl her story as fast as she could, her mom told her they were limited on time and would come back. The little girl and I made plans to talk about her school next time she came in with her mom.

A few seconds after they had left I looked across the room to see my friend behind the other counter where she loudly said, “I think you are going to be canonized as the patron saint of children.”

I think this was the gentle sign reminding me of my gift of gab with children. This was just the conversation needed to persuade me the other three signs were a message for me to become a teacher. I already knew I was going to write, draw and publish comic books, I didn’t realize I would be putting on an extra “hat” in the process, but it’s a wonderful feeling.

How do you see your future? What is something that has been calling you but it has taken you a long time to notice? What was your blue print you had planned and what changed it?

P.s. I googled the patron Saint of children and it’s this guy…

20130910-202738.jpg I’ve always thought it would be cool to have his job!

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