6:58

Google Maps tells me that it can take anywhere between 25 to 28 minutes to get from my apartment to the school that I work at. I would agree with them, on most days. However, Google Maps can not predict the traffic on 280, the lights changing or the weather so on some days it could take me a solid 15-20 just to get off the 5 mile stretch that is 280.

The school opens at 7:00, the bell for students to enter rings at 7:45 and the bell for first period rings at 8:00. Most teachers, I would say, get there around 7:15 (or so I am told). I, as a Special Educator, have no first period, or any period, to get to school to prepare for. So I push it the limit by arriving at school everyday between the minutes of 7:35 and 7:41, promptly. I like to be there early enough that I'm not walking in with the students because I already blend in so well with them but late enough that I'm 'early' for my duties in my head. I know that in order to be at school then, I should be in the kitchen making my coffee (which is SO easy thanks to my Keurig machine!) by, if not BEFORE, 7:02 on the microwave clock, 6:59 on the stove top clock and in my car no later than 7:10 (according to that clock). I push this time constraint ALMOST every morning but it clearly doesn't bother me too bad. Until today.

I woke up and found my phone to look at the time this morning to find it was 6:58. 6:58. That is 1 minute before I need to be in the kitchen, completely dressed and ready to go, according to the stove top clock. I quickly got out of bed and just stood there for a moment trying to use any math skills I could muster to determine if I needed to call in for a half-day or not. I decided that I could do it, which I did.

I grabbed Huntley and took one of the quickest showers in my life. (I won't say THE quickest because I am pretty much known for taking ridiculously quick showers). I even changed my routine- instead of showering, dressing, drying my hair, make-up then actions to leave; I did- shower, half dress, make-up, finish dressing, blow dry ONLY my bangs and left. Yes, I remembered the essentials like feeding the dog, putting her up, and packing my bags for soccer.

I was in my car at 7:22. Because I woke up at 6:58!!!!

And if you were wondering, I walked in after most of the students. Yep. The majority were already in their first period classes. I did beat the first block bell though! I didn't beat my aid, she sent a text asking if I was coming today.

6:58. How I hate you.

The Bachelor

5 Reasons I love the reality show The Bachelor:

1. Turns a bad case of "The Mondays" into "It's Monday"!!!
2. Provides substantial amount of information to make small talk with anyone, at any time. Guarantee.
3. Makes you feel normal.
4. Allows drama to enter you life, without destroying your life.
5. Helps you recognize that love exists. And that the One true Love is forgiving, faithful and promising.

Oh. And I use to be 100% convinced, with every fiber of my being, that I was going to find my husband with the help of ABC. I was going to go on The Bachelor, get in the Top 3 and instead of winning the dirt bag's heart, I would win America's heart. Then, naturally, go on and be The Bachelorette; choosing my own.

How wrong was I?

Surprise Surprise!

I made a hair appointment yesterday for these reasons:

1. My hair had completely outgrown its 'bob' cut and was at an extremely awkward length where no matter how long I straighten it, how I styled it or how I did ANYTHING, it still managed to flip out all over in the weirdest ways.

2. My bangs had also outgrown themselves from the last trim and were at the point where they just barely could fit behind my ear; thus, driving me crazy and forcing me to find different ways to pin them back. Which is just unfortunate for everyone involved because nobody I have known since sophomore year in high school (approximately 7 years ago) has seen my forehead exposed so bluntly.

So- I went in to a wonderful salon that I was recommended to anyone and yes, it really is as cool and legit as it looks. I brought along a picture of what I would call a medium length bob and said to my new hair dresser what I say every time I get my hair cut:

"I'm really not picky. I just think I would like more of the angled look. But you just do whatever you think would look best. I trust you because, hopefully, you know better than me."

***Side note: I am not sure if that is too much freedom for some hair stylist.... I often think about that seconds after I tell them because if it were me, I would have SO much trouble making that kind of decision for a stranger! Which would make me continuously ask questions until they gave me answers that would make me feel like I've made a decision even though they clearly provided everything for me.***

Long story short: I left with my hair looking much like the picture I brought. She even kept it because she thought it could be flattering on anyone and said she would tell everyone she just successfully cut the exact hair style! I am happy with the cut and didn't even really think it was that different. That is because, I realized, I had this cut BEFORE I worked at my current job. So, nobody here has seen it.

And that statement brings me to the point of this entry.

A student on my caseload comes into my room multiple times a day. He is one of my favorite students here and by far one of the nicest. The first time I met him, I specifically remember thinking that I wanted him to like me because he looked SO cool. (If you're wondering, I have achieved that). Anyways- he came in today just like any other day but saying:

" mumble mumble It looks so fly. mumble That's tight. mumble. Fly."

My response was: "Wait... What's on fire?!"

He proceeded to look at me like I was the thing on fire, with reason, and say "Your hair looks fly, Ms. Peters. Its tight, real tight."

Naturally, I said thank you. I brushed it off quickly in fear that he was actually thinking I looked ridiculous. Yes, I do care what these high school students think of me. Okay?! We continued on with our light chit chat about what class he should be in, how his teacher doesn't care, yadda ya. Then, he walked out. He said bye, I said peace.

He came back to my door. I figured to give me a strange look and laugh at my 'peace', like normal. But instead, he said:

"Has your boyfriend seen your new style?"

Me: "No, not in person."

Willie (Nope, not his name. I just call him that because I called him William for about the first 2 months of knowing him without him telling me he goes by Will. So, I do it to be obnoxious. Its fine.): "Oh, he's gonna like it. He's gonna be real happy.

Me: "Oh yeah? You think?" (Still self conscious he is about to make a dig at me)

Willie shook his head and walked away. I sat at my desk, laughing to myself. Willie came back but just popped his head in the doorway to say:

"He will.... It's beautiful."

Me (shocked, flattered by his honesty and embarrassed because its a BIT awkward): "Aw, wow Will. (yep- first time I've used his preferred name) Thank you."

Willie left but again, returned quickly with his head only to say:

"I can't really see myself saying that..... It's nice. Real nice." Then he walked away.

I am surprised every day by little things. By what honesty brings: happiness, awkwardness, courage, truth. I am surprised by my students and how I have been able to see them grow just within 5 short months of knowing them. To see relationships mature and to experience trust being established in a way I never have.

I'm Not In High School Anymore

So, I am the assistant soccer coach at the high school I work at and conditioning for the season started yesterday. Naturally, I dress out, because I am the coach and I specifically remember during my high school career promising myself that if I EVER coached I would dress out, run and do whatever activities I would ask of my team because it would really get my nerves ticking to see a coach yell commands at me when I would doubt their ability to do it! Whew, that was a mouthful... Sorry for the venting session. Anyways, I dressed out and meet the team and head coach at the track.
Our first task was to run for 20 minutes, no walking. Just running, at any speed. So, to keep a promise to myself, I hit my watch to keep time and started to run. I wish I could tell you right now that I stopped when I was tired, I didn't think about getting ahead of people or that I wasn't self conscious/holding my breath so my real huffing wouldn't be heard/trying to act cool every time I would come in close contact with anyone else. However, if I did say that, I would be a liar. And I'm not about lying, its very unattractive.
When I passed the head coach, as he walked, he said to me "Hey, you can stop running. You don't need to push it! You got nobody to impress, seriously." Quickly, because I couldn't afford to lose any ounce of breath to talking, I responded by saying "Oh, I know. Its for me though!". I then proceeded to look at my watch and see that it was at 15 minutes and 30 seconds and thought to myself, "You are an idiot. You're not trying out for this team. You are the FREAKING coach! You can stop whenever the heck you want and who cares if you don't pass the ONE girl you haven't! I have NOBODY to impress because YOU ARE NOT IN HIGH SCHOOL!!!!".
Then, as I finished my last lap, I pulled over at 18 minutes and 15 seconds, heaving with pain in my guts and gasping the time left to the students as they passed me. That minute and 45 seconds was glorious to me. I stood there as girls passed me, boys sprinted past me without shirts on and the baseball team stood in the middle of the field warming their arms up and realized that I was 100% comfortable in the fact that as a coach, I will enjoy the responsibility of being able to make the calls and participate when I want to.

Plus, I am ridiculously sore today and almost embarrassed to walk around because of the janky way my legs tend to move with muscle soreness.

With that said, I will keep you updated on my involvement this soccer season! I have really no clue what I am doing but I gotta do what I am called to do. I can tell you this- I am definitely not in high school anymore whether it means age, physical ability, maturity or experience. Sometimes its harder for me to remember that because I have grown really close to some students here, on the volleyball team, etc., but I have much more under my belt than they do. I have done the try-outs, I have made the teams, I have gone to college, I have the best friends in the world, I have a boyfriend who loves me more than any student could ever even imagine, and I do this all on my own- I am a grown up! And I have nobody here to impress.