So it’s official; my time as a student blogger is coming to end. An email was sent out today recruiting new bloggers for the website and to be honest, that email hit home a little. In one month, my reign as a Walsh blogger will cease to exist and all my past work will only be a memory, locked up in the archives of the cyber world. Ok, so maybe that was a little dramatic, but it was necessary. It’s semi-heart breaking to know that my Walsh life is winding down and it’s almost time for me to call myself an alumna. Maybe I should just continue to blog about my life, pretend it’s for Walsh and just save it in my word documents. Going cold turkey on blogging might not be the best idea. Baby steps, baby steps.
Since my last post, a lot of changes have been happening. I have moved up in student teaching, from the youngster to the tiny teens, and am now teaching at Oakwood Middle School. Needless to say, middle school students and elementary school students are night and day. It was like I was starting from square one and I had no idea where to begin. On my first day at the middle school, my cooperating teacher asked me if I had any new game ideas and all I could think of was Monsters Inc. Tag, Balloon Bash, and Noodle Hockey. Clearly, I was in elementary mode and it took me a couple of weeks to adjust to the middle school way of life.
For some on-campus updates, track has moved outdoors and with the unnaturally warm weather, campus has been booming. As cliché as it seems, there actually were students playing Frisbee on the grassy knoll. It’s moments like that when you feel like a real college student. I started my campus job of calling alumni asking for their support to the Annual Walsh Fund. It’s definitely a rewarding job that builds character.
Well, this week is my spring break from student teaching. It’s 11:45pm and I feel like it’s 2am. I have been going to bed so early because of teaching that my body is programmed to shut down around 10:30pm. It’s almost 12am and I’m still up. Living on the edge, I tell ya! I better wrap this up before things get too wild.

Well, the Lenten season is officially underway and I’m pretty sure I have thought of meat more in last 12 hours than I have in the past week. I just can’t help it. Like Joseph Levitt said in the movie Inception, “If I tell you not to think about elephants, what do you think about?” Elephants. Same goes for Lent. When I am not allowed to eat meat on Fridays, I want nothing more than a rack of ribs. It’s crazy how the mind works.

So with meat off the menu, my roommates and I were forced to whip up a dinner at our house vegetarian style. Basically, it was a Food Network Challenge and we were all competing against each other for the top prize. There was actually no prize. We are all athletes so it’s in our blood to compete over everything for no reason. On one burner, Chief Kris-Kross was boiling a pot of gourmet elbow noodles, which would be paired with butter and parmesan cheese. On the other burner, Chief Bmo was grilling toasted cheese, being prepared on rye bread with two slices of Kraft singles hugged in between. The last chief, which was me, was creating the family favorite of peas and eggs. If we’re being honest, Bmo’s toasted cheese sandwich looked heavenly, Kris-Kross’s elementary noodles looked bland, and my peas were a little burnt. So for the first annual Volleyball House Food Challenge, Bmo took home the grand prize.

Now that the dinner rush is over, there is not much more going on tonight. We just finished watching Pocahontas on VHS, which instantly took me back to my childhood. You don’t realize how poor the quality of animation is when you’re young. In my head, Pocahontas looks like a Pixar film. After watching it tonight, I realized how much my perception was skewed. Again, it’s crazy how the mind works.

It is now that time for the Taft Elementary special. During the kindergarten class today, I had two students bickering back and forth to each other. The boy was accusing the girl of cheating during the game and the girl was taking this to heart. She was screaming back at him, almost in tears. So I walked up to the scene of the crime, calmed down the students and asked for the story. After we got through the “She cheated,” and “No I didn’t,” chatter, I asked the boy how the girl cheated. His big eyes opened wide and he answered so confidently saying, “I don’t remember what she did, but I know she cheated.” At that moment, I wanted nothing more than to be inside this boy’s head. What was his thought process and why was it so important for everyone to know that he was playing with a “cheater”? For the last time, it’s crazy how the mind works.

Wow! There I go again leaving you hanging for weeks without any form of contact. Shame on me. So, let’s take care of some housekeeping business. Two weeks ago, one of my freshman roommates, Jamie, got married. Yes, I said married! For the big event, my other freshman roommate, Jess, who we haven’t seen since freshman year, flew in from Utah and we all got to unite for the first time in three years. In a nutshell, that weekend was filled with laughter, tears, and a reality check that we are getting old. One thing that I did learn from that weekend is that the friends you make in college are there the stay. I mean, I haven’t seen Jess in three years and we picked up right where we left off. It was a comforting feeling.
In other local news, my basketball team lost in the first round of the tournament by one point. It was a heartbreaker, but they played the best game of their lives, so I was pleased. Oh, how could I forget? Last week at the men’s basketball game, Walsh was blasted with its first ever flash mob. About 40 students rushed the court to perform their dance to Tic Tock by Kesha. The president of the school enjoyed it, so it was a success! Other than that, the indoor season for track is officially done and I have one more week of student teaching at the elementary and then I’m off to the middle school. Talk about night and day.
Like I promised in my last blog, I will share with you a teaching moment that I have encountered whilst at Taft. So, since I am still on a flash mob high, my cooperating teacher and I decided to teach the dance to the students. During an assembly, when the other teachers least expect it, we would turn on the music and the students would start dancing. Before I taught the students the dance, I would explain to them the importance of keeping it a secret, so that when we start dancing it is a total surprise. Man did I eat those words. Turns out, students were telling their parents that they were doing a secret project that no one was allowed to know about and they were not allowed to tell. This just paved the way for parents to be concerned and the phone calls started coming. After several phone calls later, my cooperating teacher and I emphasized to the students that they could tell their parents, but keep it a secret from their teachers. Just another one of the many life lessons I am going to have to learn the hard way.
It feels good to be back on track. There is a lot going on and I needed to fill you in. Expect me to bust out blogs left and right.

P.S. Thank you for reading and commenting. I just got a chance to read your comments and it made my day.

P.S.S. Here is the link to the flash mob dance. Enjoy!

The semester is officially in full swing and to say that there is a lot going on is an understatement. Between back to school activities and rivalry basketball games, Walsh is booming more than ever. Unfortunately, with my “big girl” schedule, I have to miss out on most of the Walsh fun that is happening on campus. I do my best to get to different events, but since I am student teaching this semester, it is a rare occasion. It has been almost two weeks now since I have been in the field and I feel like I have been teaching for 10 years! A new respect has developed for teachers who have actually been teaching that long or more.

Throughout my day, I hear and see my fair share of bizarre events. If there is one thing I can count on while working with kids, it’s that things will never get boring. To give you a little taste of my day-to day routine, I decided to include a story from the week that I feel you will appreciate. Just to give you some background information, I am teaching physical education at Taft Elementary in Canton, grades K-4. So here we go…

It was my first week of teaching and I was doing a lesson on jump rope and scooters to one of the first grade classes. *Eric, one of the first graders, was in his own world. He had trouble listening, wasn’t on-task, and did his best to get the other students to follow his example. So throughout the forty minutes, I had to correct him at least 15 times. When class was over and I had the students all lined up at the door, I was teaching them how to clap in sign language. They ate that right up! About two minutes later, their teacher came to pick them up and as they were leaving, I felt a tap on my leg. It was Eric. If I’m being honest, he was the last kid I wanted to see. All of the sudden, he started making all kinds of motions and hand gestures, without speaking, that lasted a good 10 seconds. When he was done, I asked him what he said. With a sweet, innocent look on his face, he replied, “I love you.” My heart instantly melted and I forgot why I was ever mad at him in the first place. That’s how they get ya!

I’m sure this is only the tip of the iceberg when it comes to teaching stories. Let the journey begin!

So this is it.  The final semester of my Walsh career is underway.  I spent this past weekend at home celebrating my sister’s royal birthday and getting some last minute tips on student teaching and coaching from my parents.  Once I loaded up my car and scanned the house for random items to take back to school, I realized that this would be my last time traveling back to school to start a new semester.  Naturally, this got me thinking.

Since I have been at Walsh, I have made the hour and five minute trip to and from my house many times.  If challenged, I think I could safely make it back blindfolded.  After thorough research and intense observations, I discovered that when it comes to making the trip back to Walsh, I am like clockwork.  I realize that I go through a series of stages throughout this 65 minute car ride that are shockingly consistent.

It all starts as I pull out of my driveway and give a little toot from my horn.  I instantly reach for my radio (no iPod connector or CDs) and have a refreshed feeling come over me.  For the first 15 minutes or so I reflect on the weekend, have a sense of freedom, and am riding without a care in the world.  When this high wears off, I get stagnant for about ten minutes, where I basically drive like a zombie with my finger on the seek button, not even hearing the songs being played.  After this mental break, I start getting real deep with my thoughts.  This is the point of the car ride when any song could trigger my emotions and I will break out into tears for the next 20 minutes, give or take, depending on the reason why I am crying.  The reason usually changes every car ride.  For example, one time when I was driving back, I found out that my brother got engaged earlier that day and I was so happy for him and his fiancé that tears of joy were flowing with no control.  I’m pretty sure Amazed by Lonestar came on the radio, which put me right over the edge.

Once I regroup and dry the tears that have cascaded down my face, I channel my inner musical talents and get into the music video stage for the next 15 minutes.  I start performing anything from Nelly to The Temptations, incorporating dance moves in when necessary.  Just this past car ride, I performed Adele, Someone Like You, so hard that I almost convinced myself that I had an ex-lover who I was hoping to win back, only to find out that he is married and has no place for me in his life.  It took me a minute to come back to reality because I was so involved in this music video moment.

With only about five minutes left in the trip, I casually listen to the radio and start getting that excited feeling about being back at Walsh.  No one ever knows what a new semester will bring, which makes the possibilities endless.  As I pull into my driveway, I end my trip with a call back home letting my mom know I am safe and sound.  So with that begin said, let the final semester begin!

I am never exactly sure where the inspiration for my next blog will come from.  It usually develops from random events in my daily life that seem somewhat cool to share.  For this blog, I have to credit my sister for her insightful insight on the art of conversation.  We both work at the same golf course (along with the rest of our family) and have recently attended the annual Christmas party.  As we sat there making small talk with our fellow co-workers, I mentioned something about being witty when it comes to responding to the old time golfers who always appreciate a quality joke.  My sister, who is always looking out, said that I should blog about this conversation piece and this got me thinking.  I decided to take this conversation idea and twist it into a college-based setting.  What I mean by this is I am going to prepare you for conversations that you will experience for the next four years of your life. 

At every stage in life there are those classic questions that people get asked non-stop for a certain period of time.  For example, if someone is getting married next fall, the bride and groom to be will instantly be asked questions about the wedding for a good 18-20 months.  Even a thirteen year old who is preparing for high school will hear the question, “Are you ready for high school?” at least 250 times the summer before his high school debut.  Now I’m not saying this is a bad thing.  It is actually very considerate and nice to know that people care.  What I am focusing on right now is being able to withstand the same question for four years straight.

For the first year, when you come back home for holidays and special occasions, you will be excited to tell about your college plans and where you see yourself in the future.  You won’t even think twice when people ask you, “Where do you go to school?” and “What are you studying?”  It’s actually kind of nice to have that independent feeling of creating your own path in life.  At this point, it is important to establish your comfort level of telling people your career plans and creating a base for the next three years because the questions will expand. 

As your college years continue, you will notice that it is no longer socially acceptable to ask or even be asked, “What grade are you in?”  That is so high school.  The question now is, “What year are you?”  That, my friends, is something they do not tell you at freshman orientation.  Consider yourself prepared.  You will begin to notice that at family gatherings and hometown social events, people will lose track of your college status.  This is when you will add another built in answer to your repertoire, which will be to the question, “What year are you now?”  Expect to get a gasp, shocked look, or even a common eye roll suggesting that you are “just getting so old.”  If I had a dollar for every time I heard that one…

Now the trick to surviving these questions for four years is all mental.  Once you establish your conversation comfort, which will take about a year, give or take, you will be prepared to answer any questions that come your way.  This involves adding little random tidbits about your college status that not only keep you sane from answering the same question 1,000 times, but will also enhance the conversation.  For example, once I answer the school and major question, people will expand the question by asking me if I like Walsh.  This is where preparation and experience come into play.  I have the benefits of Walsh divided up into categories in my head and I will choose the one that best fits the conversation at that time.  For instance, if I am talking to my grandma, I will mention volleyball and the friends I’ve made and include that we have mandatory study tables in the library.  Her classic line is, “Study and behave,” so she is always happy to know that I am getting my library hours in.

This is just one of the many examples of how to become a conversation wizard.  It’s not easy, but someone has to do it.  With a little practice and creativity, there will be no question that you can’t confidently answer while keeping your sanity alive.  Good luck and God speed.

Just like that another Christmas season has come and gone.  When my family and I are driving home from my aunt’s house on Christmas, after a full day of family festivities, I can’t help but get that sad feeling in my stomach.  All the Christmas music, all the lights, and all the preparations are finally done.  Excuse the cliché, but you blink and it’s over.

This Christmas, like all the others, was overflowing with family, laughter, and food.  However, I slowly began to realize that our normal Christmas traditions were starting to change a little.  Before I even came home for break, I was hit with a truth bomb.  This would be my last Christmas as a Walsher.  I would never again pack up the Oldsmobile with half of the stuff in my room I really didn’t need and make the hour drive to a cozy, Christmas decorated house.  This kind of just set the tone for a different kind of Christmas.

As Christmas Eve approached and everyone was getting ready for church, my older brother was on his way out the door, about to go to church with his girlfriend’s family.  Although I supported his decision, when only six of us loaded the van and only six of us sat in the pew, I felt the missing piece to our traditional Christmas Eve mass.  He was there in spirit, though.  After church, we headed over to my aunt’s house and with all the little changes going on, one thing I could count on not changing (besides 24 hours of A Christmas Story on TBS) is the Italian tradition of seven fishes on Christmas Eve.  Wow!  For some reason, the lobster and smelts never tasted so good.

Now this brings us to Christmas morning.  I am a firm believer that a person is at their truest form on Christmas morning.  It’s early, you’re around family, and no one is concerned with looks at this point.  This could be one of my favorite moments of the Christmas season.   This year we went about our normal routine of opening gifts from Santa and just when we thought it was all over, we got hit with another truth bomb.  My oldest brother will be getting married in the summer and as we sat there opening the final gift, we all realized this was our last Christmas morning all together and things got real.  Needless to say, it was a moment I will never forget.

Even though Christmas is over, the fun still continues.  The week in between Christmas and New Year’s is one of the greatest weeks of the year.  You’re coming off a Christmas high and still have another holiday to look forward to.  It’s a win, win!  I hate to use another cliché, but holy cow, does time fly!  No matter what your plans are for the New Year, embrace it.  I’m sure I will come up with a New Year’s blog and will get real deep with it, but until then, enjoy your week and Happy New Year!

“If you had only one more week to live, what would you do?”  In some shape or form, we have all been asked this question.  I remember answering this question back in the day with my response being something along the lines of climbing Mount Everest or scuba diving in the Great Barrier Reef; very extreme and generic.  For some reason, this question popped into my head the other day and my answer was crystal clear.  All I want to do is be with my family.  Period.

Since I am coaching basketball in Canton, I have to stay up at Walsh for most of the break because of games and practices.  I am free on the weekends, so that is when I go home and get my fill of the family.  This past weekend, when I was sitting at the dinner table, I was perfectly content.  Between the awesome food and random conversations, it all made sense.  I realized that if I had one more week to live, this is all I would want to do.  It’s almost like all that other stuff would just get in the way of my family time.

Maybe it’s the holiday season or being away from home that has me in this family mode, but regardless of the reason, I kind of like it.  This is one example of how college is a growing and learning experience.  The answer to this common question went from climbing the highest mountain to sitting around the dinner table.  It’s crazy to think that I might actually be becoming an adult.  Thank you, College.  You’re doing your job.

                I can go on and on about everything I have learned in college, but one lesson that has been consistent throughout my four years is, “If you don’t do it, it will not get done.”  This is pretty self-explanatory and is basically common sense.  Once you get to college, though, these words become almost too honest for comfort.  Here’s what I mean.

                It’s a Wednesday morning and you have a 9:10am midterm.  You have abused the snooze button, so now you are already running late.  Frantically, you pour yourself a bowl of cereal, accidentally spilling milk all over the ground.  Because of your current state of mind, you barely pay any attention to the milk soiling in your carpet, and you instantly move on to your next duty.  While you are brushing your teeth (not using the proper circle technique because of the time rush), you suddenly are attacked by the sneeze monster.  Within seconds, your mirror is covered with speckles of white foam.  As you try to wipe away the mess, your plan backfires and now instead of speckles, you are left with streaks of white foam covering your mirror.  With time moving faster than ever, you whip open your dresser drawer flinging clothes over your shoulder like it’s a salt shaker you accidently knocked over.  Through this tornado of clothes, you forgot that your knitting kit was in that drawer and a ball of yarn has been popped out of its spot and is now unwinding throughout your dorm.  Again, there is no time to pay attention to it because you have a deadline to make. 

                So you go about your day and after one thing leads to another, you don’t get back to your room until 10:00pm.  After a full day, you want nothing more than to hop in the shower and go to bed.  As you open your door, the sweet aroma of rotten milk fills the room and you are left with the remains of a dorm room tornado.  With your motivation below sea level, you simply get a wet paper towel and “soak up” the milk and wipe down the mirror.  At this point, you have had enough and throw out the classic line, “I’ll worry about this tomorrow.”  We all know where that leads. 

                The point I’m getting at is that college hits you with a nice helping of responsibility.  To fix your dorm room mess, you would physically have to go out, spend your own money, and buy carpet cleaner and Windex.  I know this example is very simple and basic, but it’s the idea of this process that I’m focusing on.  Just last night, I cleaned the light fixture in my kitchen and changed the light bulbs for the first time in 18 months.  Sad, I know.  It’s just that as a college student, changing light bulbs doesn’t seem to make the top of my priority list.  That’s when I go back to the lesson of a lifetime which is, “If you don’t do it, it will not get done.” 

                College is just the starting point for the main event.  With all the education, food, and fun college supplies you with, it also gives you a little taste of what most like to call “the real world.”  With anything in life, we are not sure what to expect.  With the random life lessons of college, though, we are equipped with the right tools and guidelines to lead us where we need to go.

                Over Thanksgiving break, I did something that I haven’t done in almost two years.  That, believe it or not, was updating my iPod.  Before you judge me, let me give you some background on the relationship between me and my iPod.   I own a Nano and basically only use it for working out.  For some reason, I don’t have the patience for downloading and dealing with iTunes, so my neighbor would usually help me out in this department.  The last time she helped me out was in February of 2010, when I was preparing for my trip to Rome.  This could be why I haven’t changed my music for the past two years.  I wasn’t ready to let go of the songs that instantly could take me back to a place where culture and simplicity ruled my life for two months. 

                It was the spring semester of my sophomore year when I traveled to Italy and lived there for two months.  I could easily go on and on about the experience, but I have a better idea.  While I was in Italy, our weekly assignments for school consisted of blogging about a certain topic and incorporating our experience and daily readings into them.  Our last blog, though, was a little different.  It was a reflection on the past two months and a response to our first blog that predicted how we thought we were going to change.  So instead of retelling you about my Rome experience, I figured I’d let you read my actual blog written on April 17, 2010, three days before flying home to the United States.  For your sake, I have condensed this blog, highlighting the main points.  Enjoy!

          As I sit here, staring out into the countryside of Italy, I find it difficult to write this blog. I don’t know why. I can’t figure out how such an awesome experience is leaving me speechless. I am literally writing exactly what I am feeling at this point. Excuse the random thoughts that might appear. I can’t control them.

          When I think about how I have changed during this trip, I struggle to keep my mind focused only on myself. There is a constant interference of you guys; Ben, Clint, Andrea, Carol, Nicole, Eric, Pammers, John, Professor, Sara, and Danilo. The eleven of you have taught me so much without even knowing it. I have learned about myself through you. Every excursion, every meal, and every conversation has given me insight into each of your lives and I thrive on that. Your personal stories and experiences have made me question certain things in my own life, helping me to see what is really important.

          When I sit here and think about the overall trip, I am stuck on the words “make an effort.” I have always tried new things and what not, but this trip has made me break out of my comfort zone even more than before.

          Italy has shown me how to attack life. There’s no room for pretty good; you have to be “Da best.” This doesn’t mean you have to be the strongest, smartest, or richest. The measurement of the best is within you. Clearly things are not going to be perfect, but with so many ways of seeing things, maybe it is better that way. It is through imperfections that we discover the most about ourselves.

          “You only get one first shot at Italy.” This is a line taken from my first 325 blog and to be completely honest, I would not have wanted my first time to be any other way. From Johnny sandwiches and Danilo sayings to Kemps and To-Lido, we have made nothing but memories. It has been a pleasure and a true blessing to have been given this opportunity. Thank you.