tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11824152575808389152024-02-19T21:47:55.593-07:00Mikell ChristineME, MY LIFE, AND WHATEVER ELSE I FEEL LIKE WRITING ABOUT AT THE MOMENTMikellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08024806102552374123noreply@blogger.comBlogger48125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1182415257580838915.post-35285944611750769592013-11-27T10:36:00.000-07:002013-11-27T10:36:51.919-07:00Once upon a time,<br />
<br />
My love story began. I was eighteen. I was very silly. I was a freshman at BYU. I SAID that dating wasn't important to me. And then there was a boy.<br />
<br />
Tall,<br />
smiling,<br />
laughing.<br />
<br />
I remember being in the dorm common area, with all those boys I spent so much time with. One was playing the piano. One was sharing some gouda. He--Matt, I mean-- was lounging on the floor, making us all feel like we were hilarious.<br />
<br />
I really wish I could tell you how it proceeded. I wish I could say "I knew right then that I was going to marry that boy", but I didn't. All I know, is we continued to have nights like that, plus or minus a few of the other boys, and then minus more of them and more of them, until it was the two of us.<br />
<br />
I had no idea he would become my husband.<br />
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First, he went home for the summer. We called once or twice a week.<br />
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Then he came back for a few days. It was like no time had passed.<br />
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Then he came back again, the night before he went into the MTC. It was awkward and made me miss him a lot.<br />
<br />
And then he we wrote. Not perfectly. But we wrote. And that's when we really started to know each other.Mikellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08024806102552374123noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1182415257580838915.post-57988453870530963092013-11-27T10:35:00.000-07:002013-11-27T10:35:50.061-07:004/29/13<br />
<br />
Some things I'm thinking about, and being better.<br />
<br />
For about 12 minutes tonight, the motivational bug hit me and I was overwhelmed with a desire to organize my classroom, be a neat freak, and put together a cleaning schedule for our apartment. I was pinning and pinning all these ideas for my classroom and making lists for things I want to do in hopes that I could maybe perhaps be good enough.<br />
<br />
Because that's really what it was. A feeling of inadequacy. It creeps in all the time, I think to everyone's life, and here was my little bout of it.<br />
<br />
It started yesterday (predictably aligned with a certain monthly visit that seems to be bringing crazier and crazier emotions each time it comes around). It was hot in church, and I did singing time in Junior primary, nursery, and Senior primary. We're adding a 4th time next Sunday, because their separating the crazy sunbeams out of Junior. (<i>Was that my fault</i>? And such thoughts...) We plowed through lots of songs because oh my goodness if I stop for a second they will all go crazy! (That's what it feels like). By the end, I was exhausted, and in no mood for the new councilor to come tell me I should make cute posters and "jazz things up" and play games and and and (I know it was just how I was feeling. She was totally nice.) And then the Stake primary president who was there the whole time came up (<i>what did she think of me? Oh I'm the worst at this...</i>) and gave me a (totally sweetly worded) suggestion, AND just as I was carrying out the huge box of stuff left from an old chorister, I was given a new visiting teaching assignment, which heaven knows is because I have completely slacked on my duties, which I blame on this crazy calling!<br />
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I barely made it to the car before bursting into little-kid-i-just-fell-off-my-bike tears.<br />
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You know what, this year of teaching that I almost have under my belt has taught me that my strength with teaching is the interacting with kids part. (Which that councilor actually complemented me on amidst her "suggestions".) Let the world know it, my strength DOES NOT lie in cutesie. I will not ever have the cutest classroom, or the funnest games, or the sweetheart voice. I will not even have the elaborately planned lesson with 54,782 visual aids, hand outs, and original art. That is just not where my priorities are, and I'm plain not good at those things. I <b>am</b> good at seeing kids, empathizing with them, and appealing to their sensibilities. I am good at making them feel special. I am good at showing them I care about them. I am not good at putting a lot of outside time in to make each lesson, each minute, the amazing experience it could be. And that <strike>might be</strike> is a weakness of mine. I will fully admit to it.<br />
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It makes me scared to teach third grade next year, because is that what they expect of me? That terrifies me completely. That takes me back to the way I felt during my internship (as in, I want to die I hate this job its not worth it I'm not good at it I can never be what they want me to be and if I have to be a sweetheart I can't be and its so much work to plan like this and I just don't have the energy and so on...)<br />
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And THEN I think, if I can't do this (or keep my house clean or my car clean or even my bangs clean) HOW could I ever even start to be fathoming that it would be "fun" to have Kosterbabies? What in the world woman!?!? <br />
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Back to positivity. I have to say, that I know Satan works hard at me through these feelings of inadequacy. I think its true for all of us. He finds that one thing to make us feel like we're not good enough, and directs our attention to it until it becomes a ridiculous fixation that is blown way out of proportion. I have to try and take these little bouts of self-doubt and turn it into motivation to be better. I have to turn it into "Well okay, so Heavenly Father is trying to humble me a bit. I knew in my heart before now that I could be better about ______. Why don't I start by doing _________. "<br />
<br />
And then I get 12 minutes of hyperdrive motivation, until I decide to go and write about my <i>feelings.</i> <br />
<br />Mikellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08024806102552374123noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1182415257580838915.post-35921170141277705832013-04-29T21:48:00.000-06:002013-04-29T21:48:08.701-06:00MishapsSince we've been married (coming up on a year, what the heck?!?), we've had a few... mishaps. Now, a lesser person than I might be a little embarrassed by these, but I think they are funny, so... story time!<br />
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Once, a tire on our car was flat-ish. We filled it with air. It was flat-ish again the next day. Rinse and repeat... a few times. (Busy schedules!) Eventually, it was flat flat. Matt changed the tire, and went to the tire store, and got new tires. The next day, it was flat again. Not kidding. Um hello? So he changed the tire again, and took it back to the shop, and yelled at them like crazy. Just kidding. I have never ever heard Matt yell. He probs was the nicest ever. Whatever, it got fixed, yay! Oh, and did I mention he had to sit in the snow while changing the tire? Well then.<br />
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More recently (Sunday), we came home and put ALL our unmentionables in the wash, you know, so we could have clean ones for the week, right? Well, the washer decided to stop. Mid-cycle. And not start again no matter how hard we tried. Blergamerg.<br />
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I tried to fix it. Matt pulled it out to look at it, and.... a sock fell in the lint trap of the dryer. (I neh-ver leave unmatched socks on top of the dryer! No way! So now, here we are. Unmentionables like soup in the washer. Afraid to turn the dryer on for fear of explosion. Say now!<br />
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Much google-ing occurred, and we went in search of a part! (The next day, after unmentionables were removed from soup, rinsed and blow-dried, and we went to school etc...) To Lowe's! They don't have parts! To random "Mending Shed" that happens to be right by our house and also next to super sketchy abandoned buildings! They close at five! Order the part on Amazon! Proceed to wait! Huzzah!<br />
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Matt had to tear apart the dryer (well, unscrew a bazillion annoying screws), and he got the sock out. We dried the rest of the unders. We went to bed annoyed. And we wait!<br />
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I know there's a billion more mishap stories that I can't think of right now. Somehow, being with my love, and getting to see him get lint in his hair, and wet snow bum and the like makes it a little more fun. (Even if we grump about it...)<br />
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Did I just write a whole post about how I like to laugh at my husband? Sorry honey, didn't mean to!<br />
<br />Mikellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08024806102552374123noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1182415257580838915.post-39935155238428743352013-03-25T23:32:00.000-06:002013-03-25T23:32:08.245-06:00Spring Break RambleI just read a bunch of old blog posts. You know what, sometimes I think I'm funny. I don't know that anyone else does, but... I don't think I really care.<br />
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I'm on spring break right now. Its perfect timing. Those fifth-graders are turning into crazed 11-year-olds, and driving me nuts. I needed a break from them. I love them, but I needed a break.<br />
<br />
Since Matt still has school, I'm not doing anything too exciting. Today I got to go with him to his "Preparing for Medical School" class. Sister Samuelson and Sister Samuelson (sisters in law, not sister-wives!) talked about medical school from the wife's perspective. It was good to hear these women talk about their experiences. They talked a lot about focusing on the positives and being happy in whatever stage you are in. Isn't that such a good perspective on life? I love that idea. I know I need to apply it, even now. I SO OFTEN live in "I will be happy when"/ "What's coming next" land that I don't realize the beautiful wonderful things that are happening around me right now.<br />
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Like sitting at the kitchen table with that handsome man as he absent-mindedly half smiles. Like getting burgers together. Like looking for a birthday present for him. Like just picking him up from school. Oh these things! They are so much fun! I can appreciate that now, if I just WOULD.<br />
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<br />
I want to talk for a minute about how incredible my husband is. He works SO HARD. And its for us. I'm glad he's going into something he loves. Even if its incredibly over my head MOST of the time. I've been watching Scrubs just to try and get some medical lingo. I don't know if its working... Back to him. He said tonight, "lets do something fun every night, since its your spring break" I said, "its your birthday week". "Its spring break!" back and forth, back and forth.<br />
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I love that we can make fun of the strange noised the other makes, and of yawns, and sneezing... I love that we sing together, and cuddle, and dream about the future. (Hopefully mostly in the "won't it be fun when...." rather than the "I will be happy when...") I love that we both like Diet Dr. Pepper and America's Funniest Home Videos (Don't tell. I used to hate it. But I love it with him.)<br />
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This marriage thing is rather great. Its pretty cool to have someone on your team. And to be on someone's team. And to be in love.<br />
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How's that for random. I think I'm done, for tonight.Mikellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08024806102552374123noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1182415257580838915.post-13896611849350624912013-02-26T19:48:00.001-07:002013-02-26T19:48:27.463-07:00Feeling 10 years old.So today something happened.<br />
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I was late, again. It was snowing. I checked the weather, but we still didn't leave early enough.<br />
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Don't worry, I didn't get in an accident.<br />
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So, I was late for school. Today was the day of the big writing test. It was bad that I was late. And I was late on Friday because of snow then too. Ugh, embarrassing. Someone took my class, and it was okay. But I came in the door and my students! Oh my students. They ran out of their seats. <br />
"You're laaate! Why are you late Mrs. Kosterrrr?? What took you so loong?" Oh. I felt like I was ten again!<br />
<br />
How is it that spending time with ten-year-olds make that happen? I am their teacher! I am a good 13+ years older than them! (Don't tell. They like to guess how old I am.) I don't understand! And yet there I was!<br />
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And I said, "Don't you think I feel bad? Don't you think I did my best?" *<i>cue getting a little choked up</i>* (definitely NEH-ver did that as a kid...) (Actually I did it all the time...) "Don't you think I wanted to be here?"<br />
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Apparently tears (really it was only <i>slight</i> eye-mistiness and a <i>very little</i> voice shaking), are a lot more effective adult to kid vs. kid to kid. (When I was a kid, they just looked, turned around, and giggled a little. Oh I still remember. I see them do it to each other.)<br />
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Suddenly it had all turned around. "Mrs. Koster, was your drive really bad? I heard you telling that teacher it was a parking lot. How far away do you live again? Woah I wouldn't want to go that far every day..."<br />
<br />Empathy! What? If only I could teach them to treat each other that way! They really are the sweetest, once they get out of themselves! Oh, have I taught them anything? And such feelings...<br />
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Then it was inside recess and they were hooligans and I had to be mean Mrs. Koster and my own empathy rather flew out the window. I made a kid cry. I apologized but I still don't really feel bad about it.<br />
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Oops. Mikellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08024806102552374123noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1182415257580838915.post-13134751381072979392013-02-07T22:34:00.000-07:002013-02-07T22:34:00.390-07:00Cleaning the Kitchen“The best antidote I know for worry is work. The best cure for weariness
is the challenge of helping someone who is even more tired. One of the
great ironies of life is this: He or she who serves almost always
benefits more than he or she who is served.” President Gordon
B. Hinckley<br />
<br />
...<br />
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Okay, so no great service was done in this house tonight. I just felt bad about myself, and I felt like a slacker wife, and I didn't make dinner. (We had Cafe Rio. And it was good. But still.)<br />
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So I put on my headphones, and I did the dishes. They were gross. Its been a crazy week. But I did them. And I took the trash out too.<br />
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And it came to pass that I felt better about myself. Amen. Mikellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08024806102552374123noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1182415257580838915.post-51906597777282655932013-01-27T18:21:00.001-07:002013-01-27T18:21:06.256-07:00SundayHe's cooking.<br />
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I'm sick, dreading work tomorrow, and blogging.<br />
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He's incredibly good. And nice to me. I would love to say that he is cooking because I am sick, but lets face it. He always cooks. He says he likes it. I know I like it.<br />
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My house is messy, but much cuter than last week. On Monday my mom and sister came and we bought curtains and painted. It looks better but we still need to put pictures up.<br />
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Its weird that that was just a week ago. It feels like much longer. Its been a very long week. Matt's grandpa passed away. We saw him Wednesday night, Thursday night, and just a couple hours after he died on Friday. It was sweet to be surrounded by family, and he had a stroke 8 years ago, so he hadn't been himself for a while. But it was still a little sad. It was sad to think that I never knew him, and that my future kids wouldn't. Well, on this earth. Maybe they're getting to know him right now. I don't know how that works, but its a nice thought.<br />
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It made me want to hold onto life and never die. It made Matt say he wanted to die young(er) and quick, so he wouldn't have to suffer. I get that, but it also makes me sad. I don't want him to die ever. Bleh. I don't like thinking like that.<br />
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Let's get back on a positive note.<br />
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Its snowing, which should clean out this nasty air. (Worst in the nation. Ew.)<br />
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I now only have 22 kids in my class (I'm sad one moved, but maybe it will make life easier.)<br />
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My husband makes a cute funny face while he grates cheese. <br />
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We got to see Matt's dad and sister this week, and it was so so nice to see them.<br />
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My primary kids are adorable.<br />
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I took a two hour nap today.<br />
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I like Sundays. Mikellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08024806102552374123noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1182415257580838915.post-78384584428593737402013-01-17T19:16:00.000-07:002013-01-17T19:16:17.800-07:00DDP Induced Rambling.I'm in a very silly mood.<br />
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I'm not fully sure why, but I figure hey, let's go with it. This might be entertaining to read later.<br />
<br />I just realized why. 44oz of Diet Dr. Pepper. It is, after all, the nectar of the gods. <br />
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Well anyway. Pretty much every day this week I have fallen asleep while reading a Harry Potter fanfiction novel (I found it on pinterest? Its intriguing? I don't know.) Last night I was next to my dear husband who I "love so terribly much" (to quote Matthew Crawley. I'm "so terribly" obsessed with Downton Abbey.) And he was studying. He had gone to school all day, worked, cooked dinner, and then studied like a madman. I am awfully proud of him. (I think I finally understand why teenagers use bad words to mean good things! Sick!) I'm also painfully in love with his new "hipster" glasses and the fact that his name is Matthew. (Wow, this is turning into a wordy love note to him?) #toomanyparenthesis #switchingtomisusedhashtags<br />
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I feel a little like a dud. I spend too much money, never clean up, and waste an enormous amount of time on the internet every day. I feel like I'm getting squishier. My hair has gotten absolutely ridiculously too long. I made him switch cars with me because my tire was flat-ish this morning.<br />
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I feel absurdly lucky. I have a good job, a great family, and the best husband. I just feel as if <span style="font-size: large;"><b>I</b></span> need to be better. A better teacher, and a better wife (whether or not that includes all those vain things above, I'm not sure.) #crapIdiditagain <br />
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I think that a portion of... my current state is because I'm <i>so</i> tired. Teaching sucks everything out of me. #noI'mnotpregnant I interact intensely with kids, all day, trying to form them into better people, trying to teach them something, getting frustrated with their behavior, and also plenty of laughing with/at them. How can I have more energy to be better? Should I start exercising? I know I'd get stronger but right now I don't see how I could begin. Too tired. Should I go to bed earlier? I already feel like I never see my husband.<br />
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How did this post start out?<br />
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Oh well, I'm happy. I guess I'd just like to express to the world that teaching is hard and great, and my husband's the best no battle, and you can always do more, but you can also be happy now. With what you have, where you are.Mikellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08024806102552374123noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1182415257580838915.post-26987218194219110382013-01-17T18:00:00.000-07:002013-01-17T19:23:16.290-07:00What to do when you won't grade papers.Write a whole bunch of random stuff.<br />
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1. So, our heater is broken. Which is cold. One day it worked, the next it smelled like wet dog, and the next, it was blowing cold air. Now we're waiting for a new one. And its cold. Last night I got in bed to warm up, and Matt had to wake me up to go take my contacts out. When he went to bed. Like 2 hours later. He said I was not mean. My family says I'm mean when you wake me up and I'm not all the way awake. I apparently just "did not listen to him". Well. My husband tells me what to do a lot. Not really.<br />
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2. Got dinner ready by nine tonight. Go me... Hey, at least I cooked. Oh and the rice looked like mashed potatoes. Oops!<br />
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I like this post I just found in drafts. I think I'll publish it. Mikellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08024806102552374123noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1182415257580838915.post-3358005556533526092012-11-19T22:30:00.002-07:002012-11-21T13:53:02.533-07:00the montage is the best part (an exercise in self-indulgence)The Sappy Romantic Movie of My Life (I love it!) (Also, this turned into a compilation of like all my blog posts ever. Cheating? Maybe.<br />
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They meet young. Just 18. They montage into dating a bit, with a rather large dash of awkward love triangle-ish, but laugh through it just before you hide your face behind your pillow.<br />
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And then he has to go, called away on the most important of business. They both know its right, and part over ice cream at that favorite place. <br />
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But they stay in touch, and his business changing the world<br />
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inspires her to see it.<br />
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She goes all those romantic places, and thinks of him the whole time.<br />
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And then, he's back! And they montage into dating again,<br />
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<br />
but this time, there's<br />
<a href="http://mikellchristine.blogspot.com/2011/02/duddnt-it-just-melt-yer-heart.html" target="_blank">Pocket sharing.</a><br />
<a href="http://mikellchristine.blogspot.com/2011/02/every-day.html" target="_blank">Cooking together.</a><br />
<a href="http://mikellchristine.blogspot.com/2011/12/when-i-knew.html" target="_blank">Falling in love.</a><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
The best kind of love, where he helps her through <a href="http://mikellchristine.blogspot.com/2011/10/so-some-news.html" target="_blank">hard things</a>, and she starts to see deep into those eyes.<br />
<br />
They are <a href="http://mikellchristine.blogspot.com/2012/04/engagements-3-months-later.html" target="_blank">engaged</a>, and then married on the prettiest day in April.<br />
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<br />
<br />
After the credits, there's another montage. This one just shows their everyday life. She fulfills her goal of teaching, he wins best husband award for always doing all the little things. And they can't get enough of each other.<br />
<br />
<br />
And I get that end montage for the rest of my life. <span style="font-size: xx-small;">This may be the cheesiest thing I've ever written. :)</span>Mikellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08024806102552374123noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1182415257580838915.post-15799874562420528892012-09-20T19:35:00.000-06:002012-09-20T19:35:22.614-06:00Wetlands Walking Field TripThe Wetlands walking field trip came and went fairly quickly. I talked about it only for a few minutes to my husband at the dinner table last night, after he asked. (I must have been tired from all the walking.) But thinking about it, it was rather momentous. If the definition of momentous is: "v. rather ridiculous and funny, now that I think about it."<br />
<br />
PICTURE THIS: 125 ish children walking something like two or three miles (round trip) in a long, long, chain. Me telling them not to walk on the grass, because, well, then all 125 would. Crossing a busy intersection with 125 ten year olds. 125 tired ten year olds fighting for drinks from ONE drinking fountain at the park. And, "Is there a bathroom near here?" "Um, no."<br />
<br />
When we got to the wetlands that are randomly in the middle of a suburban neighborhood, I started reading my little book about birds, and having the students peck like a sparrow, and look ridiculous. This I enjoyed.<br />
<br />
I did not enjoy some crazy hooligan (okay, landscaper dude) at the large estate/mansion/ranch of The R.V. KING that is right next to the wetlands mowing the lawn THREE TIMES OVER on his silly-looking stand-up riding mower while I was trying to talk. Lawn mower. Talking. Lawn mower. Talking. Tired voice. Pausing our lively discussions about flamingos while he makes another pass. "Do you think..." MOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWW "flamingos are pink" MMMMMMOOOOOOWWW "when they'RE BORN???" MOOOOOWWWWWW Followed by my least favorite phrase commonly uttered by students "Wait, what?"<br />
<br />
Then a bee was on my pants leg (pant leg? leg of my pants?), and some students told me in the middle of my sentence, and I thought they were bluffing, and then the parent helper realized there really was a bee, and I freaked out about it in front of the children, and may or may not have said, "Get it off meeeeee!!!!". Yeah. That happened. <br />
<br />
A kid (not in my class, thankfully) dropped his glasses in the pond while feeding the ducks. How? I have no idea. He couldn't find them. <br />
<br />
My favorite part was finally having a chance to hear stories from my students. Many of them have been through really hard things, and some are innocent. They all are funny. And when I focus on that stuff, I know this is where I'm meant to be. I'm so glad I get to be a part of their lives this year, and so glad they are a part of mine.<br />
<br />
Except the grading.<br />
<br />
<br />Mikellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08024806102552374123noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1182415257580838915.post-54001847082234041552012-08-03T12:29:00.000-06:002012-08-03T12:29:05.941-06:00Mostly about the ups-door neighbors.Do you ever blog when you have 25 million other things to do. Yeah, me too.<br />
<br />
Today I read a bunch of <a href="http://www.natthefatrat.com/" target="_blank">NattheFatRat</a>'s blog. I love it. She's so funny. And somehow I feel by reading that blog, I'm funnier.<br />
<br />
SO.<br />
<br />
A few things. (I'm not saying they're funny. Lower your expectations.)<br />
<br />
Why does your foot "go to sleep" after you move it from that sitting-on-it-funky position? Why do they call it "go to sleep"? Or "pins and needles"? I feel like it would be hard to tell the difference between a pin poking you, and a needle poking you. Acupuncture must hurt.<br />
<br />
Also, my mother in law is coming to stay with us in two days in our spare bedroom that's filled with crap and I have to write a big paper today. (That's why I'm blogging, obviously.) I hope she likes our green carpet!<br />
<br />
Yesterday, we went to die Walmart. ("Die" means "the" in German. You actually say it more like "dee". I use it sometimes just for fun, because its one of the few German words I learned living in Germany. Pathetic I know. And also, sometimes I want Walmart to die.) Anyways, we drove into the parking lot, and who did we see? Our ups-door neighbors. They live above us, but their door is next to us. Ups-door. We don't know their names, we've just seen them a few times, and can sometimes hear their baby cry through the vent in our kitchen (?) or the ups-door woman doing her work-out video. (What if its actually the ups-door man?!) And then, when we walked in die Walmart, they were right in front of us. We were both paralyzed by awkwardness. We were both too chicken to say hi. I don't know their names?!? One time I could hear one of them peeing? Awkward. If they would have seen us, would they have said hi? Can they hear me pee?<br />
<br />
Anyway, later when I was going to bed and turning off literally every light in the house, I thought our porch light was on. So I went up our little stairs, flicked the switch, and realized it was the ups-door neighbors light. I flicked ours back off. Not two seconds later, they turned the porch light off. Awkward? Do they think we're passive-aggressive porch light crazies? I don't know. But much more of this awkwardness and I'll never be able to muster up the courage to ask their names.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: xx-small;">P.S. What if one day we all become the best of friends and ups-door lady goes back and stalks my blog like any best of friend would do and finds out that I can sometimes hear them pee? Why did I talk about peeing so much in this blog post? Okay now I'm really done.</span>Mikellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08024806102552374123noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1182415257580838915.post-81144540049856435272012-07-05T13:29:00.001-06:002012-07-05T13:30:08.889-06:00Some letters from March that I found in my drafts...Dear Blog,<br />
I'm sorry I write nothing but stream of conscious on you.<br />
<br />
Dear being Married,<br />
Come sooner. There's a lot of not being married stuff that I'm ready to be done with.<br />
<br />
Dear wedding,<br />
Plan yourself, please. Exactly to my specifications. Just... read my mind. Thanks.<br />
<br />
Dear lessons,<br />
Plan yourself, please. And get me awesome scores on my last student teaching evaluation.<br />
<br />
Dear sleep,<br />
I love you dearly, but could you just make yourself unnecessary for the next 3 weeks?<br />
<br />
Dear Conference,<br />
Thank you, that was just what I needed.<br />
<br />
Dear Matt,<br />
I love you so much, and I can't wait to be with you forever.<br />
<br />
Love,<br />
Mikell<br />
<br />Mikellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08024806102552374123noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1182415257580838915.post-78495214394441055712012-04-11T11:56:00.001-06:002012-04-11T11:56:58.039-06:00Engagements (3 months later...)Sometimes you want to share your love with the world. Sometimes you realize how precious it is, and the only part you want to shout from the rooftops is that its real, and its yours, and that you feel really lucky to have it.<br />
<br />
I'm really blessed. <br />
<br />
And I have an attractive fiance.<br />
<br />
And it snowed AND was sunny when we took engagement pictures.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLfaIK74viKVAYf2QQp1a4hdk7JpSg-HohGZcPDupHXDmvWm5XK0qdf4Yjkvm73Qr5HsiZd0TUkph5kpCRVGXh-E586JfXyfkTmdUvxzsspCtHsqoSDj1mBJf8y-OFWwTEpGRAVvxV06M/s1600/2011-1357-41-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLfaIK74viKVAYf2QQp1a4hdk7JpSg-HohGZcPDupHXDmvWm5XK0qdf4Yjkvm73Qr5HsiZd0TUkph5kpCRVGXh-E586JfXyfkTmdUvxzsspCtHsqoSDj1mBJf8y-OFWwTEpGRAVvxV06M/s640/2011-1357-41-2.jpg" width="456" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And then a water droplet fell in my eye... </td></tr>
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<br />Mikellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08024806102552374123noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1182415257580838915.post-50313973143802179622012-02-21T16:55:00.002-07:002012-02-21T16:55:37.747-07:0012 minutesIts been months since I wrote. I still stalk like crazy (blogs, I mean), and I think I should spend the next 12 minutes avoiding VERY pressing other work to do to just write a couple things.<br />
<br />
1. Planning a wedding is pretty stressful. I'm not good at it. I don't care enough! I mean, I care, but I care a lot more about OWNING my student teaching and spending time with oh, you know, that one guy I'm supposed to be gettiing married to in EXACTLY TWO MONTHS!!! AHHH!!! So excited. But freaking because there is so much to do.<br />
<br />LIST:<br />
Doc appt<br />
dress altered<br />
pay for photobooth<br />
Hair?!?!<br />
Jewelry?!?<br />
INVITATIONS (hello?!?!?!)<br />
take care of dumb acne<br />
linens/ chairs/ centerpieces finalized<br />
his suit<br />
honeymoon?<br />
photographer<br />
<br />
Um, yeah. Have I even started? BUHHH.<br />
<br />
But the thing is, I've been busy teaching. Teaching beautiful, hilarious, oh-so-full-of-personality 6th graders. And doing my senior project. And dealing with BYU bureaucracy.<br />
<br />
Oh, and going to Vegas with my roommates. When will I have another opportunity?!? It was awesome. Except for the skanky dancers at Treasure Island. What the...? Don't take your kids. Just watch more fountain shows at the Bellagio instead.<br />
<br />
Basically, I am living in the "my life will be happy when..." mode, which is bad. Because when this project is done, I won't be with these kids anymore. Sad. And when I'm all the way done student teaching, I'll be looking for a job. Scary. And when I'm married, I won't be able to pin a million things to pinterest about weddings (fairly sure I have like 6 BOARDS related to wedding on there. Ridiculous, yes.) Haha.<br />
<br />
Wow ramble. Basically, I have a lot to be grateful for right now. And I am grateful. And this little thought came into my head last night: "Show your gratitude for what you have by living up to your potential." Maybe that means to do AWESOME on this capstone project. Or making my wedding fabulous. Or being the most fabulously supportive fiancee in the whole world.<br />
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I don't know, but I definitely think it means my 12 minutes are up, and I'm posting this without editing it.Mikellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08024806102552374123noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1182415257580838915.post-21899363425945066002011-12-01T18:24:00.001-07:002011-12-01T19:10:01.934-07:00When I Knew<br />
"We've had a lot of awesome dates here."<br />
"Yeah we have. My favorite ones."<br />
"For sure. Like the one right before I went home for the summer where we did baptisms and then spent the whole day down here."<br />
"Remember how we felt after doing baptisms that time? I didn't know baptisms could be so fun." <br />
I remembered how everybody in the temple seemed to give us those looks like they knew something we didn't. I thought about his hands on my head. I thought about how we kept smiling at each other across the room. I thought about how he held my hand on the way into the font, and how we both walked out of the temple saying how much fun we'd had. I think that was the only word that could describe the happy, full feeling in my heart. I didn't realize it then, but I think that might have been when I really knew.<br />
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That, and that fortune cookie around the same time that said "The love of your life is in front of your eyes."<br />
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Really.<br />Mikellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08024806102552374123noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1182415257580838915.post-38314346946188345552011-11-08T14:56:00.002-07:002011-11-08T14:56:50.969-07:00Get DressedSo... I recently came into a lot of time on my hands. There are things to do, no doubt, but there is A LOT of time to do it in, so therefore, not a lot gets done 'round here. Its like my momma used to say (usually in reference to getting ready for the day, but also applicable to life in general) "It takes as much time as you have." Innit true?<br />
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Right before I started the lovely internship of all internships which now feels like a blur that never really happened which makes me a little sad (oh, maybe that's what I want to talk about?) one of the intern "coaches" talked a lot about "just get dressed!" She had this analogy, like if you have an hour to get ready, what would you do? Shower, get dressed, eat, make-up, do your hair nice, etc. If you have a half hour you might skip breakfast and throw your hair up, but you can get to the rest. Now what if you only have five minutes.<br />
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You "just get dressed".<br />
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At the time, this was all related to just getting my classroom put together passably, and preparing myself and my lessons for the first week. I held on to that analogy. I kept repeating it. It had so little time and so much to do. After a while, it was supposed to get easier, they told me. I was supposed to learn how to "get dressed" a lot faster. I was supposed to come up with systems where I could "pick my clothes" (do the basic planning and preparation) quickly. I was supposed to have time to start putting on make-up and doing my hair (you know, actually becoming a good teacher).<br />
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But just getting dressed, and not doing that great a job at it, was taking ALL the time I had.<br />
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There were factors there that made it really hard for me to get dressed. I was like a new mom, who ends up wearing yoga pants everyday because she is too busy being sleep deprived and living in crisis mode to really get dressed. Maybe I'm taking this analogy too far.<br />
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The madness of it all came to an abrupt halt, and now I find myself in nearly the opposite situation. I have little to do, and lots of time to do it. Somehow doing laundry becomes an all-day event (Symbolic?). But mostly I spend my time dreaming up ways to spend my time. <br />
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I wonder if I had had some of this time then, would I have used it? Or would "just getting dressed" still take all the time I had? I worry that even in a new situation, I won't be able to be a "fully showered, breakfasted, made-up and ready for the day" teacher. Will I still use up all my time to just "get dressed"? What about this time I have right now? What can I do to make sure that the <strike>scary bad</strike> unsuccessful teacher Mikell is gone forever, and the amazing, fabulous, confident, prepared teacher Mikell can emerge? I'm asking too many questions. I just wish that I could spread out all the time, and use it wisely and always be my best self.<br />
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I like to think we all feel this way. That time management is one of the important things we're supposed to learn in life. For now, I think I'd better just go get dressed.Mikellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08024806102552374123noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1182415257580838915.post-40861741196448004792011-10-29T16:06:00.001-06:002011-10-29T16:06:47.267-06:00Things That Matter MostSo I've been feeling... off. I had a weird week. I didn't have enough to do. I'm in between a lot of things right now, and its messing with my mood. So finally, today I went here:<br />
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As soon as I got out of my car, I felt better. I saw people who had just been sealed taking pictures, the sun was shining, and it was so clear to me that I have been focusing WAY too much on myself, and forgetting the most important things. The Lord loves us. He has a plan. I am SO blessed. And I REALLY need to get outside my silly self and see the things that matter most.<br />
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<br />Mikellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08024806102552374123noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1182415257580838915.post-44807534195146918142011-10-20T23:12:00.000-06:002011-10-20T23:43:20.275-06:00So, some news.Today I took off the watch. I've been wearing it a lot. Its cute. Its functional. It keeps me on time. For school, P.E., lunch, art, music, library...<br />
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Well, not anymore.<br />
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And now its really hot in here, and I have a headache, and I have some business to take care of, so the watch is coming off.<br />
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I didn't fail. Not really. I know its the right thing. I know, in the long run I will be a better teacher for it. For it all.<br />
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...<br />
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I decided to "be removed" from my internship, and go to student teaching. It scary, and overwhelming, and sad, and a little not real yet.<br />
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But also, its really liberating. Anyone who knows me has seen how. incredibly. overwhelmed I've been this whole time. Not sleeping, 12-15 hour days, first one at school, last one to leave, planning in the middle of the night, emails, meetings meetings meetings (including some where I'm so tired I fall asleep in them, and others where I cry.) I dream about teaching, planning, being unprepared... I talk about teaching, and students, and how overwhelmed I am... <a href="http://mikellchristine.blogspot.com/2011/09/emotions.html">I cry</a>. All. Thetime.<br />
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My placement was EXTREMELY hard. The class was hard. I had a very difficult start. There was some SERIOUSLY difficult hurdles for me to jump over.<br />
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And I worked really hard, but I just couldn't make it.<br />
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I've never done anything with lower grades. I didn't prepare well enough. I got in a bad cycle of tired/overwhelmed/behind. I was faced with dealing with all the logistics of BEING a teacher while grasping at straws trying to learn HOW to teach and WHAT to teach and how to make it all work for a rambunctious group of seven-year-olds.<br />
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Maybe someone else could do it, but I couldn't. And you know what, that's okay. What I really want, more than anything, is to be a good teacher. I have wanted to be a GOOD teacher forever. Its not just a good job to have when you're a mom, or an M.R.S. degree, or whatever so many people go into "ELED" for, for me. Its teaching those little souls, giving them a foundation for the rest of their lives. Its my passion, and in order for me to be the best teacher I can be, I need more support. I need more practice. I need the "student" part of student teaching. I need to learn how and what to teach without all the logistics.<br />
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On top of everything, there's been a lot going on in my life. Amazing, exciting, extremely happy things that I wouldn't give up, even to succeed in this internship. (<a href="http://mikellchristine.blogspot.com/2011/10/sappiness.html">More</a> on that later.) That has been... distracting.<br />
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So here I stand. I think, hope, and pray that I've made the right decision. I know I've felt a major sense of release. <br />
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I'm SO sad to leave the kids. Those notes, I'll keep forever. "You're my favorite teacher..." and "if I had a magic pebble I'd wish you were still our teacher", and "soon you are going to be Mrs. Sanders!" "I really miss you, I almost cried when we went out to recess. I hope you come back soon with your new husband." "I promise I will not forget you!"<br />
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I definitely won't forget those amazing children, and I hope I'll never forget how much I've learned. Thank you to the AMAZING people who have supported me through it all. I couldn't have made it even this far with out you. I hope you can still be proud of me.Mikellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08024806102552374123noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1182415257580838915.post-31183168006512170122011-09-30T23:23:00.000-06:002011-10-20T23:34:17.250-06:00Sappiness...I didn't know it could feel this good.<br />
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I thought it could, hoped it could, but I had no idea what I was even looking for.<br />
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I saw the motions, and thought that maybe that was what made you feel it, but I'm realizing now, that when its real, the motions are just the manifestations of the feelings.<br />
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I finally feel like we are symbiotic- our happiness depends on each other. Our empathy, our understanding, our compassion is more in sync because we share everything possible, from stories, to feelings, to ideas, to time, time, time, and maybe some more stories, and more. <br />
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I feel like I understand him really well, and I love every part. Literally. I love even the faults, because that make him himself.Mikellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08024806102552374123noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1182415257580838915.post-57178957477978147522011-09-28T18:04:00.000-06:002011-09-28T18:04:33.702-06:00Love and HopeOkay, so there's <a href="http://nieniedialogues.blogspot.com/">this blog</a>... And I love it. Stephanie Nielsen has survived so much, and is so full of hope, no matter the trials she faces. She has so much faith. One of my favorite things about the whole blog is how in love she is with her husband. They love each other, and they do all this romantic stuff together, and they smile and hold hands through it all.<div>
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I wanna be like them. Matt and I have been joking about how we should be more romantic, like them. Like making out on a ski lift under the full moon romantic. (Does that not sound amazing?)</div>
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I recently discovered that her kids go to the school I teach at. I've seen them a couple times in the hall. They are adorable.</div>
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Today I was grumpy. I didn't get enough sleep. My kids were kinda crazy. I got observed and got... a reality check about how far there is to go in my teaching.</div>
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After I took a nap in my car, I headed out to get a much needed DDP. And sitting there behind me at the light, were the Nielsens, sitting there on their motorcycle. He was smiling, she was hugging him tight, their sunglasses on just looking completely at ease, and in love, and really really happy.</div>
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I thought I hated motorcycles. And they weren't even wearing helmets! But I looked at them, and saw their love, and I saw their joy, and somehow, I felt more hopeful about my life. </div>
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If they can find joy in simple things, so can I. If they can be in love, so can I. If they can make it through hard things, so can I.</div>
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Ah... Hope. :)</div>
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Mikellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08024806102552374123noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1182415257580838915.post-88175071919051306902011-09-25T23:50:00.001-06:002011-09-25T23:50:53.543-06:00Move<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="225" src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/27246366?color=ffffff" webkitallowfullscreen="" width="400"></iframe><br />
<a href="http://vimeo.com/27246366">MOVE</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/rickmereki">Rick Mereki</a> on <a href="http://vimeo.com/">Vimeo</a>.Mikellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08024806102552374123noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1182415257580838915.post-72635541867681679172011-09-25T23:29:00.001-06:002011-10-20T23:20:13.634-06:00Emotions...I've never felt more familiar with the way tears well up and fall out. Of my eyes and theirs. Every day I cry. Every day someone says it will get better. But they don't know. No one has had it quite like me. Maybe they've had similar or worse, but no one like this. Am I just hormonal and therefore extremely emotionally unstable, or is this legitimately super duper hard? I don't know. <br />
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I waste my time trying to escape, and don't succeed to do that or to make my problems better. Awesome. I might fail as a teacher. Right now it feels like I am. Every thing about myself I've ever felt insecure about is coming out and rearing its ugly head and pushing me into a totally unhealthy cycle of crying, wasting time, doing a half-butt job of everything, talking myself down, wasting time, crying. I'm going home.Mikellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08024806102552374123noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1182415257580838915.post-1342246805070099352011-09-25T23:29:00.000-06:002011-09-25T23:29:13.916-06:00Sing Me To Heavensing me a lullaby, a love song, a requiem, sing me to heaven<br />
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unceasing love, oh unceasing love, surpassing all we know...</div>
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Mikellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08024806102552374123noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1182415257580838915.post-75670910475144485262011-07-26T00:03:00.003-06:002011-07-26T00:29:51.072-06:00Shoes.Listen, kids.<div><br /></div><div>My feet are wide. Like hobbit wide. Like almost wider than they are long (okay, not really.)</div><div><br /></div><div>And I have yucky bunions.</div><div><br /></div><div>Its like my boyfriend says... "All feet are gross." (And then I tell him he should be a podiatrist. Haha.)</div><div><br /></div><div>But really. I'm gonna be a teacher. In a month. And be on my feet all day. And have to look professional. But one of the things I'm worried most about are m'darn feet! Where am I gonna find some cute, professional shoes that aren't gonna make my feet kill like Casey Anthony AND not look like this:</div><a href="http://www.diabeticshoeshub.com/images/products/thumbs/14465-19.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 125px; height: 125px;" src="http://www.diabeticshoeshub.com/images/products/thumbs/14465-19.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><div>?!?!?!!!</div><div><br /></div><div>Suggestions welcome.</div><div>Please and thank you.</div>Mikellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08024806102552374123noreply@blogger.com3