Engagement story

I promised a long time ago that I would put up the story of how I got engaged. I'm sorry I haven't done it before, but life has been extremely hectic lately, with a lot of grades coming due, and me being sick. But here it is -- with pictures.


It happened on a Friday when nothing else was going on -- October 17th. John had been talking a few weeks before about coming down that weekend, but he seemed to have changed his mind, so I was feeling a little down. The night before, I had it firmly in my head that he would come after all, but by the time I was at work, I realized I was mostly getting my hopes up for nothing. He was not going to come, and now I would be all disappointed.

During 7th period, I saw I had missed a call from him, so as soon as school was over, I called him back. "Where are you?" he asked. "At school, cleaning the classroom," I answered. "Well, then, call me back when you're home; there's something I want to talk to you about," he said.


So I finished up the classroom and headed toward home. As I was walking out by the front of the school, I saw John sitting there near the parking lot, along with a bunch of kids who were waiting to get picked up. He just looked up and said, "Hi."


He walked along with me toward my house as far as the parking lot, but then started steering me toward his car. "Where are we going?" I asked. "On a picnic," he said.


It was a beautiful drive off to the park he had picked out. The fall colors were everywhere. After a short while we got to the park and got out of the van. He pulled out of the back of the van a picnic basket and his book bag. I took the bag, to free up his hands to carry the basket. He started laughing to himself, but when I asked why, he said it was nothing. (I found out later it was because the ring was in there, and he was laughing at the thought that I was carrying it and didn't know.)


We wandered off along the trails, passing some school kids and a little pond. Then we found a picnic site and got set up. He had everything in that basket: a loaf of bread, a jar of pickles, a tomato, some cheese, some tuna, a knife to cut the tomato, paper plates, napkins -- everything. When John does a picnic, I guess he wants to do it thoroughly. I like that. The sandwiches were great (John does something special with sandwiches -- I think it is because of the fresh ingredients). Then we put the basket aside and decided to continue walking for awhile.


Eventually we came to a clearing by a creek. This whole way I was just babbling about this and that -- the relative merits of Justin Hayward as compared to the other Moody Blues, and my day at school. He was mostly quiet, a little distracted. But when we got to the creek, he sat down on a log beside me. He started to talk a little about this and that, about our relationship and so forth. I thought, "Oh, he's not so distracted anymore; that's good."

Then he said, "I have a question." He had said this a few times along the way, with a few different questions he'd wanted to know the answers to, so I didn't think much of it. Then he slipped off the log and onto one knee. "Will you marry me?" was the question.

John says that at this point my mouth dropped wide open and my eyes got really big. (Actually, he did a pretty funny impression -- I wonder if I really looked like that.) Gathering my breath and picking up my jaw, I said, "Yes, I will," and then started hugging him and laughing and everything like that. At that moment, I do not think I could have been happier. He was happy too. At that point, a train went by on the tracks across the creek, and I waved at the train like I used to as a kid. I thought, "All those people are riding home from work; they don't know that we're going to get married!" Around then, I remembered that I was holding the box John had put into my hand when he had asked the question. "Can I open it?" I asked, feeling like a little kid with a Christmas present. It was beautiful -- very John, but also very me. Not like any old person's ring -- our ring.







After awhile we walked up from the creek, talking about plans and how we felt and things like that. Periodically I would give a little jump and a shiver, thinking, "Wow! We're going to get married!" John would laugh at me, saying it was unhealthy to be that excited. But I didn't care.

When we got up the hill a ways (where cell reception was better) we started calling people. My own parents weren't home. His mom was thrilled and was very welcoming to me. When we got to the picnic basket, we picked it up and took it to the car. As we were putting it back into the back of the van, John pulled out one last thing -- a bouquet of roses. The ride back seemed even more beautiful than the ride out had been. We passed a church -- St. Clare, my confirmation saint -- and tried to get in to make a visit, but it was all locked. So I made a little visit from outside.


Once we got back home, we bumped into Olivia talking to one of the other teachers in the parking lot. She saw John and the roses, and her eyes got big, because she knew how much I had wanted him to come down, but didn't know he was going to do it. I couldn't help myself -- I held up the ring. She squealed and made a lot of surprised exclamations before running off to buy champagne. John and I went inside, leaving the front door open and standing talking in the kitchen. A moment later the screen door swung open and in walked a priest -- Fr. Thompson. "Heard someone in here needs a blessing," he said. So John and I knelt down and got a blessing. Fr. Thompson left again after chatting for a little bit, calling over his shoulder, "I'll do your pre-Cana, if you want!" He has been looking for people to do marriage prep with.


A minute after that, there was a knock on the door. I opened it to find some of my students -- ninth-grade girls. Fr. Thompson had sent them to ask what was going on. I told them, and they squealed and hugged me. (For about a week after that, I was all the girls' favorite teacher, and they wanted to hear every detail.) Then they went away, and Olivia came back with two bottles of champagne and a cake.


We called up Sean and Andrew, who showed up quickly, and Olivia made chili. Sean had brought another bottle of champagne, which was the only one we got into that evening. The rest of the evening was spent in my favorite way -- food and companionship with friends. Olivia took a lot of pictures. During the evening, I kept calling people and being called by others. John's sisters all had to congratulate me, and I finally was able to get ahold of my parents, who were happy for me. I even got to talk to David! I had them put the phone on speaker so I could talk to Joseph (they were all in the car, and could reach the phone all the way to the back seat). "I want to marry John, what do you think?" I asked. He answered, "Actually, I would really like you to."

So -- pictures of our evening:

Zoo Day

These are some pictures I just remembered I had from our zoo trip in August. A bunch of my friends in the area got together and went to the zoo in Washington, DC.

Matt and Chris imitating a statue labeled "Interdependence," or something like that.

Hanging out outside of Cold Stone Creamery, where we stopped after seeing the elephants and everything.

I was behind the camera for this one. We have Betsy, Matt, Syd 'n' Sean, and Andrew.

Pictures

Life as a teacher is so terribly busy! When I'm not teaching, preparing, or grading, I'm chaperoning a dance or planning a club activity. And on the off-chance I'm not doing any of those things, I'm probably at a school volleyball game or being coaxed into going to the Legion of Mary by the other teachers. (I decided Legion of Mary is not going to be something I'm going to do right now ... I just don't have that kind of time.)

I did have time to take a few pictures, though, so I'm just going to post those in lieu of the longer post I would be writing if interim reports weren't due Monday. I have to figure out a grade for every single one of my students, plus any other things their parents should know. I have a lot of students ... something like 120, if you consider a student I have for two classes as equivalent to two students.



Anyway, here are the pictures.

Our house. The door in front is our apartment; I'm rather pleased that the other three apartments have their doors in back. That way it looks like we own the whole house!

A tree in the vacant lot across the street. I had thought at first the area was a park, but it's not, even though it has a Civil War memorial sign in front of it (these signs are scattered all over town). But it might as well be a park, because it's such a nice bit of grass and trees.

Sunset. I love the sunsets from here. We have to go out of the house and around the side to see them, but they are always lovely. The water tower is a good landmark for navigation, but it also makes a nice silhouette against the sky.

This picture, of a car going around the corner and across the railroad tracks by our house, is the result of some time spent trying to figure out how to slow down the shutter speed. I think it worked really well! I have dozens of pictures like this; I think slow night photography is really awesome.

I made it

So, this is it: I made it to my first paycheck. There were times I really didn't think that was going to happen.

Of course, I could not by any means have managed that without help. My family who let me sit around in the house like a lazy bum for two months after graduation ... all the people who gave me graduation gifts (I'd mention particulars, but for fear of embarrassing anyone .... but everyone shocked me with their generosity!) ... the office lady who handed down beds and a chair ... the friends of friends who dropped off a table ... the people at school who told me that whenever I could pay the rent was fine with them ... yes, I've been living very much on the generosity of others. I don't know how anyone starts off after college without the kind of support network that I have.

At any rate, I have groceries in the cupboard and a balance in the bank account, and that makes me happy. But it makes me happier to know that I have dear friends and family I can count on when I don't have those things. I love you all.

The First Week

So, my first week of teaching is behind me. I'm still wet behind the ears, but I finally count as a real teacher now -- one who has a class of my own dependent on me. Or actually five classes.

The first day was terrifying. My classes seemed so huge, the periods so long, the students so unruly. I thought I would never be able to manage this. The schedule of my day is like this ---

1st period--Latin II. 12 students.
2nd period--Grammar 9. 25 students.
3rd period--Latin 1. 26 students.
4th period--Study Hall. 12 bored students.
5th period--my only free period.
6th period--lunch. All the seventh and eighth grade boys, along with another teacher.
7th period--Latin II. 12 students.
8th period--Grammar 9. 27 students.

At three I reel on home with sore feet and a sore throat.

But by the second day, I was already beginning to get acclimated. I developed clever seating charts separating people by gender, attention level, attitude problems, etc. These were immeasurably helpful -- I would not have even known my classes. The kids who had been most unruly the day before simply sat in the front row and sulked because they weren't near their friends. And they paid attention!

The other thing I did was give them work to do. I honestly can't spend my whole day on my feet, talking. And they can't spend the whole period listening to me do it. So, they have in-class assignments, they correct their homework, and they aren't bored.

The other teachers have been extremely supportive. They feel it their duty to take us newbies under their wings and tell us it'll get better. Also to refer to me as "the sacrificial lamb for Grammar 9" and to gasp when I tell them I have 27 9th graders for 8th period. Apparently (well, so the students say), someone quit over Grammar 9 once. I do know that everyone who had it one year requested something else the next year. And, as they did their time, it's my turn.

I don't know, though. So far it's not so bad. Ninth graders are admittedly fuller of beans than eighth graders. But they're not terrible. They're just silly. They need to be given serious work, information to learn, and plenty to keep them busy -- but they also need smiles and laughter. They need to know I don't condemn them for being ninth graders. And I don't.

My disciplinary philosophy is: in actions, as strict as necessary. In attitude, as positive as possible. So, I won't let them talk in class, and I make my study halls actually study (horrors!). But I will say, cheerfully, "Nope, sorry, it's study time!" I try not to get angry. I hope I can keep this up.

And that's that, so far. I have all sorts of plans for my classes, things they'll do. I hope I can keep up with it all. But time will tell!

Short Update

Well, Olivia, my dear roommate, has finally moved in. She showed up Thursday and it's been good times ever since. She brought lamps, a computer that got along with the internet connection, and measuring cups, but the real blessing has been her company. She's an easy person to get along with, and it's just great to have someone else around! It was getting just terribly lonely.

The next day, John showed up. He was covering a story in DC for his paper, and so he got to spend the weekend with the crowd here in town. Sydney was hard to get together with, because of her schedule at the hospital where she works, but pretty much everyone else swarmed in now that there was some fun going on. I cooked a number of meals (I'm discovering I just love cooking for company!) and we saw a movie and went bowling. Tonight the guys (Sean, John, and Andrew) had their first recording session for a podcast they're planning. It's just been one fun thing after another--which I really needed after so much quiet and solitude!

To add onto the good things going on, we're now the proud owners of a table. It's a pretty simple one, but it has leaves to expand (so we seated six people easily) and is just a good place to sit and work on things. This was given us by Olivia's mom's friend's parents. (Isn't it great to have connections?) We got some nice stackable chairs at Goodwill for $1.50 each.

And for a final wrap-up to the other good times, my dear auntie came to visit yesterday. She's in town for a conference and was able to make it out here and meet some of my strange & lovable friends. I think she also took pictures .... ;)

In other news, my last Latin tutoring student has "graduated," so there's not much to do except a few faculty meetings until school starts a week from Wednesday. Maybe I'd better plan a few more lessons before things get really hectic.

The Spirit of Radio

Yes, I know that's the title of a Rush song. I like the song, and I would agree with it that the major downside of radio is the ads. But I actually just borrowed the title to talk about what I think about the radio.

I started listening to the radio the other day just for something to do. It was too quiet and I was tired of every note of music I own. So I fiddled with the dial and listened to pretty much everything that was on. Since then I've found a station I can live with, mostly, and let it rattle at me much of the evening.

Several years ago, I stopped listening to the radio because I didn't see the point. Full of ads and needless yammering from the hosts, when I just wanted to listen to music. Furthermore, they only played stuff I like less than half the time. Why shouldn't I just listen to my own music, which I know I enjoy?

I realized the other day that my feelings about the radio were largely based on my circumstances. Living at home, most of my life wasn't under my control. I had to interact with other people and make decisions based on what the family was doing. My music I wanted on my own terms. Familiar music I owned myself was perfect--something exclusively mine, which I could choose. I didn't want to listen to strangers talking at me, because my family talked to me plenty.

Now, living (for the present) alone, I suddenly can see why people would want to listen to the radio. Right now, my schedule is almost completely under my control. I have about three hours of tutoring to do a day. The rest of the day I arrange however I like. I make my own dinner, based on what I happen to feel like at the moment. I have the choice to read, or write, or take a nap--it makes no difference to anyone but me.

So, oddly enough, I find myself craving what I never used to--a world that is out of my control. I remember hearing in a theology class that the amazing thing about human relationships is that the other human being is completely independent of oneself. You can have a conversation with someone else who may say anything, things you haven't thought of before. We pay for this with a lack of free choice. We can't guarantee we're going to like whatever comes out of our friend's mouth. But that makes it so much more exciting when we do. A human companion is an unknown factor, which can go along with our ideas or sharply counter to them. The interplay of two people is so complex that an infinite number of good novels, each with a different plot, could be written with only two characters.

In my situation, then, I guess the ideal solution is to find another human being to interact with me. But Olivia's not arriving till the 14th. My next best choice is the radio. It leaves an element of uncertainty in my life which I'd been needing. Maybe it will play something I like, and maybe it'll just have a huge block of boring ads. But maybe--just maybe--it will play some song I've never heard but will love. Maybe it will play something that makes me laugh or cry. When I pull up one of my favorite songs on my computer, it's just a song. I hear it all the time, and since I have it on call all the time, it's not special. But the other day I turned on the radio and "Don't Stop Believing" was just beginning. I own that song. I listen to it all the time, whenever I want. Yet when I heard it on the radio, I was all excited. I didn't even think to want that song, and there it was beyond all expectations. A surprise, instead of just the same old song. It made all the difference.

Another time I was just sitting around, feeling idle, when a song I'd never heard came on. It was called "Hey There Delilah" and it made me cry. A song I've never heard can surprise me, prod my emotions in a way a similar song on my own computer can never do.

The DJ's and talk show hosts can be on the corny side, and they have a rather excessive obsession with giving away free concert tickets, but I'm still grateful to them. They say things I wasn't thinking of before, give me something to think of that didn't come from myself.

Life is best when I go off to the laundromat and exchange smiles across the langauge barrier with the immigrants using the washer next to mine, or trot off to the coffee shop (where I'm getting to know all the baristas and they know me) to say, thoughtfully, that I think I'm in the mood for iced tea and they accidentally give me iced coffee, or my mom calls me up just as I'm resigning myself to an empty evening, or a friend suddenly appears outside my living-room window after dinner, making me jump. All of these things are exciting, uncertain--that exchange with someone which can go in any direction. Even the accidental iced coffee is a thrill. It's a chance for me to cheer up the poor barista that gave it to me by smiling and saying we all make mistakes. It's a chance for me to enjoy the iced tea when I get it.

But when I'm not doing these things, the radio is good to have around. It teaches me that I don't own the world. I don't even want to own my little apartment. I want to share the airwaves with a stranger, even if a stranger from a hundred miles away in a soundproof booth.

Take a walk outside yourself
In some exotic land
Greet a passing stranger
Feel the strength in his hand
Feel the world expand ....
(Rush)