lunes, 26 de septiembre de 2011

A typical class

Yipee! After a few not exactly satisfactory quizes at school, I've gotten a bit better, and so, I'll use this as an excuse to describe the different fases I've observed characterize some of my classes.

Stage 1: Off to a Good Start

Freshly showered, so pretty much wide awake. Optimistic but sober. Enter campus strutting ever so slightly because I've got this funky song in my head and am mentally singing it, until I glance at my watch.Drat. I thought I had more time! Pace quickens significantly until correct classroom is reached. Quick glance tells me which chairs are available, but I'll probably choose the nearest one. However, due to short sightedness I developed this dorky habit of sitting front and center during high school. Why I continue this habit is beyond me.

Stage 2: Social Protocol

Slyly check surrondings. Are there friends? Fiends? Strangers? If friends, casual or cheerful conversation will arise. If fiends (I apply the term loosely) I'll pretend to study or doodle in my notebook wondering what the heck I was thinking when I chose that seat. If strangers mood testing evaluation is next. However, before this, have in mind the following variables: Has the teacher arrived? If so, how much time till class actually starts? And especially, do I really feel like talking?

Stage 3: Class

Teacher begins lecture. Consciously focus on paying atention. This feat is easier or harder depending on the subject and the teachers style. For example, a teacher is keen on stamping or hitting the desk to emphasize the main points, which is actually very usefull to drowsy students, whereas I've also been subject to monotonous and unevenful droning that does not help keep you awake at all.

For our purpose, let's say that this particular class isn't very stimulating. And so, the battle begins.

Stage 4: Denial

I begin to feel sleepy. Eyes start to flutter and I have to concentrate on keeping them open. Mind over matter triumphs. That is, until my mind starts to play tricks on me.

Teacher has a twin? And what's up with their dressing up in exactly the same clothes? That's creepy. Hmmm... why is this room so warm? And quiet. Mmm...

I start to nod off. I start a mantra. Don't fall asleep. Do not fall asleep. Don't... fall asleep. Don't... sleep. Don'... sleep. Sleep. Sleep? Sleeeeeeep...

Stage 5: The Comeback

OK I'm falling asleep, gotta do something about it before the teacher looks my way, I aint 'xactley sutil here

Pinch. Ow! It sort of worked but is totally temporary. Also, since my tolerance for pain is pretty high, I've got to pinch really hard for it to actually hurt and I don't want to explain the marks on my arm at home. So what doesn't leave evidence? Hmmm...

I start to pull my hair. First lightly, and end up yanking. That did the trick! Unfortunetely, it also drew attention, and a friend is currently laughing at me.Oh well.

Wait a minute. Didn't I buy coffee candy the other day in preparation for today? Where the heck is it!?

Stage 6: The End

Now that I am succesfully awake, class is actually very interesting. Geopolitics. And suddenly, class is over. Dang! What I miss? I write down the homework, pack my stuff up and walk out the door.

If I'm lucky I bump into a friend or two emerging from their respective classes and savor a few minutes of refreshing comradeship. If I need to, I go to the library.

If not, I go straight to where Belle Fille is, thinking of her and of food. And probably about how freakin' hot it is.

How was school today? Great. Really great.

domingo, 18 de septiembre de 2011

My Amado

I´ve never talked to you about my Amado before have I? He’s my husband.

He is a pretty normal guy. He’s tall and works out so I can woo him with ease (and I do that a lot) He shaves nearly every day. He likes coffee as much as I do as well as piña colada (yum!) He loves to watch Friends and The Big Bang Theory. He dislikes it when the car is dirty, but is sensible enough to detach himself from that notion when it’s rainy season and you have to wash your car constantly because it gets dirty right away, besides the fact that I don’t mind eating crackers and the like inside it. And Belle Fille is a baby so she isn’t neat either. (Sorry honey, I’ll clean it up later!)

Mmm… what else…

His heart melts in protective love for our daughter. He can’t abide her getting even a teeny bit hurt. He was so disgruntled with me when Belle Fille fell of the bed because of my carelessness. In my defense, however, she’d never rolled in front of me before. I didn’t think she could move at all! Much less cover the entire distance from the middle of the bed to the edge, and right off it. It’s a big bed! Anyway…

He plays with her and talks to her sweetly… the other day I heard him singing her a lullaby that consisted of one word (light bulb. I’ll explain later) but it was in such a tender, caring tone that he had both her and me in rapt attention. That is, until he realized I was behind him and asked me what was wrong, probably wondering why I was looking at him with a goofy smile on my face. But he lets her know who’s boss when she pinches/ bites/ hits me because I don’t let her have her way. Though I have to admit she’ll have him eating from the palm of her hand a few seconds later after she scrunches up her face and pouts. My sweet babe…

Cultural pause/interlude

In Mexico, when kids or people in general do stuff like that, we say that “ya nos tomó la medida.” Literally it means that we’ve been measured. What’s implied, is that the person that “measured” us knows us well enough to know what to do to when they want to get away with something they normally couldn’t. For example, Belle File will pull my hair one second, then give me a (two) toothed grin the next so that I’ll forgive her quickly. Sometimes I can’t help but to laugh out loud when she does that. Can you believe her?! That nifty little bundle of cuteness…

Cultural pause ended. We will now resume and finalize the description of my hubby.

My amado and I would go to the movies two or three times a week when we were dating, now we go about once a week. (Yes, we watch a lot of movies, congrats on noticing). He’ll hold me when I get tense on suspenseful moments, he’ll gently wipe away my tears in the rare case that I cry. And when it’s over, he’ll laugh with me as I sing/holler in the car most of the way home, making comments on the funny faces he says I do.

I love that guy.
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