Trick or Treat

One of the new professors sent out an email to the staff suggesting we all dress up for Halloween. The head of the department replied that it was a perfect idea, after all she's already got a vial of blood on her desk. Of course she does. I'm guessing it's alcoholic. She's British.

A couple other professors replied that they thought it was a good idea. Mostly the email chain has been quite dead. I don't own a costume. And since I'm in class all day and don't teach until night, I'd probably be the only student in a costume throughout the day. I think you need to get paid more for that.

Then I realized that instead of dressing up like a teacher (aka adult) like I normally do on Mondays, I could dress as an overworked grad student. I would show up in sweats, my hair all a mess, a big mug of coffee in my hands, and maybe a blankie or slippers. My students would be shocked. And I would be comfortable for once.

They apparently are not fooled by my "adult" facade, since they were pretty shocked that I have been out of undergrad school at least long enough to spend 9 years working as a wildland firefighter. Boy did that elicit some shocked giggles (from the guys in the front left corner) and a comment of "I thought you were fresh out of college." Yes, I'm older than I look. Sometimes that works in my favor. Sometimes not.

Then I thought I should at least bring them chocolate or candy. But I'd have to go to the store, and it'll be a miracle if I get my laundry done tonight. I'm currently "working" on tomorrow night's lecture. Yeah I know. This blog looks a lot like a meteorology lecture on air masses and frontal systems. I texted Jen that maybe I should just bring carrots instead.She said (in words I won't repeat) that that would be a good response to their 41% average on the last quiz they took. But if they snagged an 80% they could have chocolate. Or, with my class, maybe just a 70% would be deserving of chocolate.

That reminded me of an awesome (and utterly terrible) thing I saw on Pinterest this morning. I sent it to Jen.

When I hand back their midterm, they will either get a caramel covered apple or a caramel covered onion. Bwahahaha!

Jen responded "That's an old one Carrie. C'mon."

"Oh. I guess I'm behind the times as far as malicious acts go." I said.

"Way behind the times. It's ok though, you're not an asshole like the rest of us. You're a rare breed Carrie."

"Lol! I'm working on it." I replied.

Not really. I made it so that there was no reason anyone should've gotten anything below an A on that midterm. Seriously. I posted the answers to all the quizzes and told them that the midterm would be questions from the quizzes and the homework. There would be no new questions. And they could use a page of notes. Front and back. While the average was in the mid 80's (way better than 41%), a few people still failed. Their cheat-sheet (if they even made one) was completely half-assed. I wash my hands of them.

On another note...Psycho Donuts should have some pretty awesome Halloween donuts tomorrow. And I haven't been to Psycho Donuts in months! For real. I have sent a Facebook message to my regular donut date in hopes that she has some time in her day tomorrow that matches up with mine. It's been too long and we could both use some donut therapy.

Like:

Or even one of their regulars:

If you live near San Jose, check them out. If not, sorry. That sucks.

Friday Night

Last night I slept around 10 hours, which is fairly unusual for me. I might be sleep deprived. I spent the morning Googling carbon monoxide poisoning symptoms, diabetes, and fatigue. I think I'm just tired.

I forced myself to run since I've already skipped two workouts this week, and had to run in the rain. It was far more exhausting than it should've been. I came home and napped a little. Ate a couple times, and took a hot bath. Maybe napped some more.

Now that it's evening and I've already had a glass of wine, I thought, maybe I should do something fun tonight. I thought about my options. I could call up one of my significantly younger friends from school and not last more than an hour or so before having to call it a night. I could call up my other friend, who has a kid and a family, who are all great. But let's face it- when you're single and childless, it's not always fun to hang out with married people with kids.

I opened up my book "Midlatitude Synoptic Meteorology" and my eyes skimmed the page. This was definitely not happening. I should clean my bathroom finally. Nooooo.

Pizza sounds nice. Even though I just ate dinner. Too bad I already finished off the chips and salsa I had in the house.

I ate a few chocolate truffles and poured another glass of wine. I texted Jen. I told her another reason I couldn't go out was because I'd have to get out of my sweats, which is not going to happen.

Soo...I've got some coloring books....origami? A puzzle? All those things feel like too much effort. I'm hoping by tomorrow this malaise has let up enough for me to be productive.

Monsters in all of us

Whenever a tragedy makes the news about someone "senselessly" killing another, people tend to ask what kind of monster would do such a thing?

Years ago, I read an amazing book "The Gift of Fear" by Gavin de Becker, and somewhere in there he talks about how humans are all capable of such horrific things. All of us. We call these people monsters, because we don't want to see the things in them that might look a lot like ourselves.

I spent the day going over old court documents from my childhood, and as hurt as I was to revisit some of the things I remembered, and some of the things I had forgotten, I was shocked to read a letter I had written to my dad in which I revealed to him my own monster. Maybe I wasn't the worst teen out there, but I was nonetheless troubled.

I read about, and then remembered, the darkness I once lived in. I wonder how close I was to that monster that people would've wondered about. I wonder what kept me from becoming the demon I told my dad about. And I wonder what he thought of his little girl's words. We all have a measure of darkness in us.

A couple years after I wrote those words, I asked my swim coach if people could change...like really change. Change down to their core. I specifically wondered if I was destined to become a product of my upbringing. After thinking about it for a moment, he replied "Sure. Yeah. If a person changed their core values, the things they found important...yes, they can change into a totally different person".

I wanted to change. I wanted to be someone my dad was proud of. Someone my coach was proud of. Someone I could be proud of.

And it took years. Many, many years. We talk about how fast time flies, but I think that's when we just skim the memories. When I stop and think, and take inventory, and let the memories play, I realize it's been a damn long road. But I'm starting to get it. I'm starting to live. I'm starting to bloom out of the mud, like the lotus flower. 

And we all house that monster, that ability to become something less than what we're proud of. We've all got a right to our scars. But what better way to show our strength than to rise out of all our darkness and become something else. Something we're not afraid to show to the world.