My Year: In 780 words and 18 Pictures

How do you measure a year? How about a blog post? This year has been dramatic, and busy...and worth paying tribute to. 

Speaking in front of a couple thousand people?
Boom. Done.

Last December, I was selected to speak at graduation.
It was something I'd dreamed about and hoped for during at least the last three years of college. As someone who craves attention, it was pretty thrilling.



I finished student teaching in mid-January. The next day, I drove down through Illinois for the Midwest Undergraduate Women in Physics Conference. It was pretty cool... and provided lots of free food.

UWL Represent!

February was filled with short term subbing. My roommates became accustomed to the chime from my cell phone and related panic as Jobulator notified me that there was a new available substituting job.

In March, three of my roommates (and the house boyfriend) drove to Chicago to surprise another roommate on her return from an overseas Pharmacy rotation.

This picture was supposed to be a reflection of us all
on the bean. Some photographic visions are harder to
communicate to strangers than others

On March 27th, I scheduled my first big interview in Pewaukee. As if that weren't enough, later that day my dream position opened. When I found it on Aesop, I nearly gave Peanut (roommate) a heart-attach from my sudden conniption fit.

April began with the Pewaukee interview, lesson planning, and subbing. On the 19th, I started meeting with the students I'd be long-term subbing for, captained our Relay for Life team, and had my first interview (over the phone with Independence). On the 21st, my long-term relationship ended. By the 22nd, I was offered an attractive position teaching in Pewaukee, scheduled a secondary interview in Independence, and excitedly picked up an interview in Holmen. In the ultimate crunch, I interviewed in Holmen on the 25th...being required to get back to Pewaukee by that evening (the Pewaukee principal extended my deadline for Holmen). On April 25th I accepted the position in Holmen. On April 29th I began working full-time as an 8th grade math, science, and writing long term sub. Offda. 

I also got to host a pretty ridiculous Olympics event in April

May was pretty chill. I just worked. I worked really hard.

Also in May...

Classes ended on June 10th. The month also brought my first big trip to Eau Claire with Jordan and Nikki, a going away party, and a much larger trip to Europe.

Family

On June 14th, my sister and I hopped a plane for Europe and spent the next month soaking up as much culture and food as possible. We met amazing people, received more meaningful history lessons than possible in the classroom, and got to visit amazing landmarks in Germany, Hungary, Budapest, Italy, Switzerland, France, and The Netherlands. Best.Choice.Ever.

Friends with Food!

New Friends

Seriously Cool Sights

 We returned in late July to celebrate three weddings and enjoy a little bit of summer before Sue's move to Guatemala.

August brought some planning time, family picnics, a visit to Madison, and getting to meet all the new members of UWL's drumline.

Oktoberfest...before all the rain 

September was exciting as I started teaching, "for real" this time. Near the end of the month, I also celebrated a birthday and Oktoberfest.

Throughout the fall, I visited home once a week to make and eat dinner with my parents. Every October weekend was booked with trips to visit friends, events in town, and HHS football games.

Tortoise and the Hare...get it?

In November, I hosted drumline Thanksgiving, ran a 5k and ran my first 5 mile race.

Yum.

December brought me to my first Packer game and reunited me with my sister. It has been another whirlwind month, but has supplied me with a greatly needed break from classes.

It has been a year for the record books. I have been blessed like crazy. Five years ago, if you'd asked me where I'd be today, I'd tell you that I'd hope to be teaching physics or chemistry in a high school close to home. I wouldn't assume I'd have the phenomenal support group I have. I wouldn't imagine the trip to Europe, or seemingly endless weekend trips to visit friends, or laughing hard everyday.

There are bad days. There are moments I fall apart. But the number of good days and phenomenal moments make every struggle or low point entirely worthwhile.

If you took the time to read this, it probably means that you're one of the people who has helped me become this (dare I say it?) adult. You make me smile, you guide me, and you care. From the deepest, mushiest, part of my heart, thank you.

No Crying in Chaperoning

As the ball spiraled into the end zone, I jumped up to my feet. After blocking Oshkosh's kick in double overtime, all we needed was this touch down and an extra point to win the game. It was already a long shot, and it unfortunately didn't stick in our receiver's hands. After winning for most of the game, I felt my breath catch in my throat as I finally realized we wouldn't be coming out on top. The effect on our players was instantaneous and gut wrenching. 

A score is the product of a million different interactions and decisions. It is because of the players throwing and catching the ball in those last seconds that our team even made it to the level 3 playoff game. It is because of them (all the guys) that we nearly won the game. It was heartbreaking to lose only because of how much they've won and how well they've played.

I didn't expect us to win the game. I spent Friday trying to convince my students that Oshkosh North has a great team. Win or lose, we shouldn't be disappointed. The football players in my class thanked me for the sentiment but obviously disagreed. I convinced myself not to get my hopes up because much like baseball, there's no crying in chaperoning, and I tend to become very invested in games.

Tasting victory for most of the game though, my, and everyone's, hopes were high. As it set in that we'd lost, the Oshkosh fans stormed the field in jubilation as we watched our team's frustration and sadness in heartbroken silence. Martinez raised the ball to the stands, and our fans cheered. Even three hours from home, our students, parents, and community members filled nearly a third of the college stadium.

In class on Thursday, we had a football momentum problem, and I suggested that the players either collided in a tackle or a hug. The running back in my class told me that they don't hug. After the game ended though, there were 30 minutes or more of football hugs and tears. The seniors, coaches, and players shared moments before the student section and parents formed a crescent on the field, waiting for their turn to show support. I clenched my jaw and waited on the sidelines, because there's no crying in chaperoning. Long after the Spartans left the field, our fans and players hung back.

Eventually, with tiny droplets of rain starting to fall around us, we migrated back to the bus. We ate at Culvers, and when we were joined by the football team, the whole restaurant erupted in applause, and I developed a serious case of "the feels".

I am so proud.
I'm proud of the team and their accomplishments. More over, I'm proud of the family/brotherhood they've formed. I'm proud of our fans and their support of the team. I'm proud that even before the game, during our Friday assembly, our student gave a longer standing ovation to our undefeated adaptive sports league's players than the record breaking competitive football team (because they knew how much it would mean to the students with special needs). And when it was the football team's moment to shine, they applauded the fans. I couldn't ask for a better community to teach in.

Students are far from perfect. They are not always selfless. They sometimes forget the respect we model/teach. But, they are wonderful. I can't help feeling totally blessed to be even a small part of so many lives. I struggled not to think about how lucky I am during the long ride. After all, there's no crying in chaperoning.

You Know You're Supported When...

I love my job. I do. I love science, and I love teaching, and I love working with students. I get to talk about my favorite subjects with some of the most wonderful kids you’ll ever meet every day.

Lately though, I’ve been in survival mode. I spend about 12-14 hours on school work each day. And I don’t say that to complain…just to explain. You see, I’m losing my mind. If I was scatterbrained before this year, it’s nothing compared to the mess that’s jumbling around in my brain these days. My current self-preservation plan focuses on sleeping 7 hours a night, running, and spending a handful of hours each weekend being social (in an attempt to salvage my mental, physical, and emotional well being). But, I’m losing it. I am not the fully prepared, creative, ready to attack the day, kind of teacher I want to be. I'm doing okay...but, that's hardly what a student deserves.

Fortunately for me, I work in a department full of people who are willing to step in to make me a secondary preservation plan of their own accord. Sciency fairy godpeople, if you will. Today, I was informed that I don't have to teach on Thursday. I can grade, plan, and observe classes while the highly qualified staff divvies up my courses and teaches for me. Oh, and they’re buying me lunch. Well…excuse me while I try not to burst into tears. Happy happy tears.

There are a lot of great gifts out there, but, as far as I’m concerned, the greatest gifts we each can give are time and talents. It takes a certain brand of generosity to volunteer a prep period to give someone else a day full of them. I am totally beside myself with gratitude. Thank God for teachers.

No Egg on My Face

After two and a half stressful, rewarding, tiring, hilarious weeks, I think it's time to write again.

The beginning of school was primarily spent reviewing basics while convincing students of the superiority of the metric system and my competence (with mixed results). This week though, our Physical World class is learning Newton's Laws. It's a favorite of mine. I still managed to flop yesterday's lesson though.

Please, take a moment to visualize with me:
a dozen less than focused high school students lining a hallway for 10 minutes...
as I accelerate fifteen meters backwards, staring at the scales in my hands,
frantically trying to maintain constant force in both (a single scale proved too weak),
pulling a tall junior boy sitting on a skateboard
as he refuses to stop singing, "They see me rollin', They hatin'..." to passersby on their way to lunch

Did they kind of learn F=ma after we assessed our data? Hopefully. Regardless, I was determined to have a demo-riffic day to solidify understanding.This morning I gathered supplies from home for my favorite demo. I didn't have much time and somehow couldn't remember where I'd placed the integral egg shaker after my April interview mock lesson. With no time to boil them, I packed two real eggs and hoped our band teacher would be able to provide me with a percussive substitute.

Arriving at school,  I checked with our band director (no luck), and made a trip to the PE dept. to gather a few more supplies (and awkwardly waited outside the guy's locker room as a student fetched a teacher from the offices inside).  I decided to treat myself to coffee for my first hour prep, and by second hour, I was really really feeling the caffeine.

Still feeling slightly jittery, Physical World began. The demo's went well...mostly. Students excitedly launched tennis balls to each other, were entertained by Newton's cradle, compared tension forces at angles, and watched with bemusement as a student on the computer chair (or as I call it after my tumble, the "danger chair") accelerated ever so slightly backwards after nearly knocking the wind out of me with a medicine ball chest pass. Turns out he's stronger than I expected.

I was about to give them a practice assignment when I remembered the egg demo and ran to the fridge for the more perishable equipment. First, I placed 4 plumb bobs in a cup of water, then a pie tin on top, then toilet paper tube, then egg. As my nerves were quickly mounting (I've never used a real egg), I relaxed slightly noticing that the tube was too wide to balance the egg on. But, realizing the solution, I powered forward, creasing the tube.

I don't get nervous as I teach. I mean, stressed, excited, or frazzled, sure. But heart racing-butterflies in stomach-6th grader asking someone out for the first time-nervous? Not so much. However, as I noticed everything in the potential path of eggyness and knowing that I've failed plenty of times with the egg shaker, I was more than a little on edge. After repeatedly mentioning my trepidation, I abruptly and violently whacked the pan out of the way sending it clanging to the floor... and perfectly plopping the egg into the cup of water.

It happened like this...
But without the cool skeleton kid

Victory. Without concision choice, both my fists pumped into the air as students exclaimed. Primarily, they were surprised (loud noises help with that)... and incredulous that I hadn't asked them to move out of the "line of fire".  After a second successful trial (students shuffled out of the way first) we discussed implications, and I gradually revisited earth from my adrenaline high.

It wasn't much. It was five minutes of success in a job where I'm frequently falling short of my own expectations. But it was enough to energize me...for at least another week. :)

Livin' the Dream

I'm still a little flabbergasted. I cannot tell you how many times I've thought to myself, "Boy, it would be great to get a physics and/or chemistry job right out of college. And how cool would it be if I could work in Holmen...And maybe I could coach forensics."

Being offered this job feels like, if one day during your freshman year of high school, the star quarterback caught your eye, handed you a rose and asked you to be his prom date...in song...while making you a hot fudge sundae. We've all have moments where we've thought, "Wouldn't it be nice if..." but I still can't really understand why my "what if" gets to come true, and it's a little scary because of all the "what if"s that follow.

What happens if the quarterback doesn't think you're a good dancer? Or, worse yet, what if he turns out to be less than you always hoped? What if I'm not perfect for this job? What if I'm not enough? As anyone would be, I'm nervous, and I think it's playing a role in my procrastination. I'm finding it hard to really dig in to planning, probably for fear of failure. Today, however, I found the following pinned to the cork board in my office.

"It is not the critic who counts"

 It feels like the kick in the tush I need. As someone who rages whenever someone else attributes their good fortune to only external factors, I am also required  to tell you that I earned this job. And that I have the mentors, support network, tools, and knowledge to be successful. 

Nine days until the seats fill up!

I will be stressed, and busy, and will probably feel like I'm not good enough for my students from time to time because they deserve the best. But, I will succeed. And I will use every misstep or flop of a lesson as a new foundation from which to grow. So, here goes nothing!

Eliminating a Constant: My Two Weeks Notice

It's not uncommon to pick up a job in high school to start saving funds for college (or to spend, for the less frugal among us). However, it's much less common to keep this job for close to eight years. Schedules change, students move after graduation, or it becomes prudent to start a higher paying job.

I was hired at Shopko about two weeks after I obtained my drivers license and, despite picking up a variety of additional jobs over the years, I stuck with it. I think it's because the store served as a constant in my life. I don't cope well with change, so whenever something in my life felt unstable or uncertain, I knew that at work nothing would be different.

November 2006

For my first year, I basically didn't talk to anyone, was petrified of making pages, and felt devastated when costumers became angry with me. Over the last eight years, a lot has changed. This store got me through graduations, moving (three times), pageants, failed tests, first kisses, heartbreaks, interviews, losing friends, and vacations. I can't pretend I always jumped at the chance to work, but the job's been a big part of my life for a long time. Dozens of photos of me over the years boast a Shopko polo (because I was too lazy to change after work (even if the polo color changed, that never did)).

June 2011

Oct. 2008
Yep, rocking the polo in public

July 2009
Just another Friday Fry-day

June 2008
I was going to throw him in the air

It feels weird that now, as I make a really really big change to start my career, I'm letting go of my favorite constant. I even flirted with the idea of working weekends during the school year. I decided that I might want a day off from time to time, and that it's time to focus on my grown up job though.

So,  here's to leaving locker 125 behind (but maybe taking out the book that's been sitting in it since 2007). And to finding new ways to handle problems without the captive audience of coworkers to vent to. And to finally being able to admit that the customers were NOT right most of the time. To no longer having to worry the nutty buddy slot will fail on the vending machine. Here's to being able to brag that I've never broken a watch face (it doesn't count if someone else broke one after I advised them to use their body weight!). To knowing all the words to a lot of outdated songs that have played on the intercom. To not breaking another nail I taking off hanger size thingies or pulling ad. And to holding on to the memories of all the ridiculous things that have happened at work.

Here's to moving forward and being a teacher instead of an "apparel teammate".

Paris in Two Days: A Recipe for Exhaustion

No one looks happy on the metro. Not even me. Not even when I am. In Paris, we spent much of our time staring down the aisle of our subway cars as they wound around the corners of the dark tunnels. We became so familiar with the stations, that this morning I became surprised, noticing we beat the Montparnass fruit salesman and saxophone players to their stations.

We also became familiar with crowds. We were lucky with lines, but were still squeezed through the massively elegant rooms of the palace at Versailles and had to compete with what felt like a tranquil mosh pit on the way to see the Mona Lisa.

We had just two days in the most visited city in Europe. On our first day, we learned that our hostel was quite a bit outside central Paris, but that we’d been upgraded to a double room. It was extraordinarily small (so our communication skills became essential when trying to move anywhere) but came with a bathroom, soap, a small desk, a closet, and a TV (luxuries I’d never expect from a Paris hostel).

We began exploring the city in our favorite way by joining a Sandemans free walking tour. The guide was, like usual, amazing. We were given practical tips, enchanting stories, and historical background information for many of the sites in central Paris. Later, we journeyed along the Champs-Ellyses to the Arch de Triumph, meandered under the Eiffel Tower, and took a long walk back to the cathedral of Notre Dame…to find it closed. When we reached our hostel to prepare dinner, we were pleased with the day’s efficiency but a bit too sleepy to be pleasant company.

The following day began with the Versailles. Regardless of the crowds, the castle was breathtaking. We spent most of our time exploring the gardens. The trip would have been further improved if any of the dozens of fountains were in use, but was impressive and relaxing none the less.  We enjoyed a stroll through Notre Dame before picking up doubles of our favorite free samples and filling up on gyros (which may have given me a mild allergic reaction, talk about mystery meat!).

We made the wise choice to spend our free bubble of time in the Luxembourg Gardens. It was a perfect day to sit beside the fountain pool soaking up a bit of sun, enjoying the gentle breeze, and watching children play with large toy sailboats. Moderately recharged, we walked to the Louvre picking up a crepe and ice cream along the way.

Even with the extra dose of sugar in our bloodstreams, we ran out of steam in the massive museum. We were able to enter for free (free to those under 26 on Friday evenings!) and many of the exhibits were not at all crowded. However, we found ourselves repeatedly trying to decipher the importance of works by staring at the small engraved plates below each, only to be re-reminded that we do not speak French. When confident that we’d enjoyed our “money’s worth” another metro trance carried us home to prepare for our early morning trip to Amsterdam.

Spoiler Alert: Amsterdam is WAY cooler than Paris

Ohana-Shmolana, SEMB Drumline means Family

The thing about UW-La Crosse’s SEMB drumline is that you don’t really sign up for a solitary year. And, you don’t actually even sign up for four or six years. When you register for the class, you’re signing up to join a family to last as long as you want or need it.

The members of this silly sincere family can become more than classmates and friends. They grow into roommates, coworkers, confidants/therapists, and (if you find yourself in Taiwan, Puerto Rico/Guatamala, France, Japan, or a great number of other locations) they might even drop everything to become one heck of a tour guide.

In a previous post, I mentioned the amazing feeling that comes from staying with family. This week, we found ourselves enjoying the hospitality of another (drumlinerly) family member. I’ll post details stealthily later (because this blog is become my travel journal and I really don’t want to forget anything, but would rather not spam newsfeeds), but for now, just let me gush.

I got to visit our friend Fuse (note that the nickname basically implies that she was in the drumline with us) in Nancy, France. We’ve been looking forward to this portion of the trip for a very long time, and with Fuse’s (plus her boyfriends AMAZING and generous parents’) help it totally delivered. Think huge beautiful homemade French dishes, evening light spectaculars, picnics beside quiet gurgling streams, and exquisitely ornate cathedrals. We managed to catch up while exploring medieval ramparts, making fools of ourselves on park equipment, and strolling down adorable Alsatian roads. On our last evening, we even out fondid ourselves J I cannot imagine a more fulfilling time.

So, if you're reading this Fuse, thanks for causing enough laughter to force tears through the corners of my eyes. And, for taking us places that made me take way too many pictures. And, for being allowing us catch our breath from planning while soaking up more spectacular European memories with you.

Family By Shared History and Northern Italy

Family is not always defined by blood. Sometimes, it’s defined by shared history. My sister and I are fortunate enough to have shared history with a lovely family living in northern Italy. If you’ve already heard the story (or would just rather not hear it), feel free to skip the next paragraph. If not, I’ll try to be brief.

During World War II, some German prisoners were put sent to Galesville, WI to work on the farms. One man in particular, Hans, met another La Crosse resident working at the same farm. This man invited Hans home to speak German with his parents who were German immigrants. So, Hans started visiting my great grandparents’ house as well as with my great uncle. After the war, he returned to Germany but the connection with my great uncle and grandmother remained strong. For many years, letters, photos, and small gifts were exchanged. The task of letter writing was passed on to Hans’ daughter Heidi when he was no longer able. Eventually another visit to the states was planned, but it wasn’t possible for Hans to make the trip himself. Once in 2010 and again in 2012, Heidi visited our family along with her husband, Fausto, and two sons, Nikoli and Rafael. When they last visited, we were able to discuss our anticipated visit to Europe. Heidi offered the flat in Berlin and invited us to stay with the family in Trento as well.  So, one paragraph later, we find ourselves in the beautiful mountain town of Trento.

There is a special kind of hospitality that comes from visiting family. As soon as we arrived, we were showered with amazing food. In addition to Heidi’s home cooked meals (which put every restaurant we’ve visited to shame), we visited a farm to indulge in fresh homemade yogurt just meters from the cows responsible. We also spent time at a bee farm and tried some honey.  After taking in some breathtaking, postcard worthy views we were treated to gelato and a short tour of the city. Next came my favorite part. After stopping at a lake for some photos, we drove to the area where Fausto grew up to pick some fresh cherries. I’ve been feeling jealous from seeing facebook pictures of strawberry picking back home, but the feeling was cured with my very first cherry. We were surrounded trees of various varieties of cherry and invited to gobble up as many as we liked. I worry that no other cherry will ever be able to compete with the giant firm sweet cherries we tried. After weeks of being a tourist, beyond being a wonderful day, it was refreshing to know we were experiencing something authentic.

The following day, we took a long drive to Verona to allow for a spectacular view of the mountains, Lake Garda, and interesting after effects of glaciers (compressed stone, piles of rocks which were carried with the ice, and the results of volcanic activity). Arriving in Verona, we met Martina, a relative of the family. With her vibrant personality and vast knowledge of the city, she took us on a walking tour to rival Sandemans. After the tour, we stopped in a quiet square for some great quality gelato. As we enjoyed the treat, Heidi remarked, "To me, this is Italy," and I found myself feeling incredibly blessed just to be sitting where I was, enjoying Heidi's Italy.

A Hostel with Atmosphere: Chalet Martin

We didn't bring a small guide book on the trip. We brought the ginormous Lonely Planet's Europe on a Shoestring. We wouldn't be carrying the extra three pounds if we didn't trust it. So, when the book recommended hostel named Chalet Martin nestled in the quiet city of Gryon (and mentioned a chocolate tasting) we booked ourselves a reservation from Prague.

Until we reached the final big train station, no one we spoke with had even heard of the town, but as we boarded the “cogwheel train” (which looked very much like a tram to me) and started to ascend the mountain it became certain we were in for a treat. After the giant city buildings of Geneva I was extremely pleasantly surprised to find the mountain speckled with adorable traditional Swiss chalets. With it's width and the path's lack of shoulder, the train seemed to float up the mountainside, inches from tremendous drop offs and rushing streams.

We followed some convenient signs a short distance uphill from the trainstop and found ourselves in a hostel like none we’ve visited before. We had to wait a bit to be recognized and squeeze behind a refridgerator to make it to receptions (they’d moved it to clean the kitchen floor), but the down to earth, family owned nature of Chalet Martin set it apart in the best possible way. After spending a moment taking in the view from our dorm’s balcony over some peanut butter Nutella sandwiches, we set off on a 5 hour hike.

The majority of the walk was well marked with yellow signs. We enjoyed comfortable stretches along roads, steeper stretches along uneven ground, and views of rivers, hill sides, demure family farms, and the kind of mountain sights that dislodge one’s jaw. Eventually we wandered into some pastures (the cow pies and incessant jingle of cow bells gave it away).  We bravely trod between dozens of potentially malicious bovines with all the confidence of two girls from WI finally realizing that they’ve never been around cows without a stall divider or fence to separate them. The second two thirds of the hike brought several wrong turns, retraced paths, and muddy streams. So we were wonderfully happy to be back home when we reached the hostel again.

Our next task was to translate our German sauce packet to cook dinner. After finding the name of an ingredient we couldn’t decipher, Merlin (yea, like the wizard) one of the hostel’s coowners, swooped in and provided us some milk to sub for the “whipping cream” called for. The rest of the evening was spent outdoors getting to know various other guests and employees. We also fit in a couple games of Othello and a few hours watching a camp fire.

Like so many others we spoke with, we found ourselves tempted to stay another night…or month. This hostel is not just a bed to sleep in, hot shower, and free bathroom. It’s a community.  The cozy movie room, game room, huge book swap shelf, and massive spice rack set it apart as a place to slow down and feel at home. The hostel also won my heart with their thorough garbage/recycling system, efficient refrigerator baskets, recyclable grocery bags, and informational notes posted on every wall or doorway. The close group of coworkers and semi-permanent residents foster a social atmosphere that is hard to beat. Fortunately, trekking down the hill back to town was made far easier by the mounting excitement of an even more exciting portion of the trip; Nancy, France! :D

Roaming Roman Thoughts

We spent two and a half days in Rome, but tried to relax while fitting in all the “must see” attractions. Our Roman host (in Geneva) quizzed us on the sights we saw and apparently we made good choices and visited all the things he deems worthwhile. I stood in awe of the vast coliseum, hurt my neck trying to take in Michael Angelo’s masterpiece in the Sistine Chapel, and wandered the extensive Roman Forum.

We also went on a tour from a man who’s voice constantly reminded me of “You would say that’s a pretty sweet world, right?” and who used the phrase “MOST important” about twice per monument. We got to people watch in a few other places as well. One woman was spotted chucking raw meat unto the road below a bridge, then abandoning the remainder of the pile, potentially when she saw us watching. Another woman sweeping the street near the train station noticed a winter coat. After contemplating and nudging it for a bit, she thrust it into the street, as if it were a solution. Lastly, I encountered a gentleman who first asked to take a picture with me on his camera. This was weird, but since I couldn’t figure out any immediate danger, I obliged. Next, he asked where I was from (normal), and insisted that I was rich (not normal). After that, he told me that he likes America and would like to go there (normal) and asked if it would be possible for him to go back to America with me (not normal and our cue to flee). 

 On the second evening, we chose to walk to the Trevi Fountain to see it lit up. As anticipated, it was both gorgeous and packed full of people. It didn’t take long for me to stop focusing on the beauty of the sculpture and rather to see the beauty of the others visiting it.

It struck me that every person visiting has an expectation of the picture they want to take. But the images I witnessed as they planned were far sweeter than what can be captured on film. A kind husband volunteering his head as a tripod, a young boy closing his eyes tight to think of a wish before appeasing his parents by tossing his coin, an elderly couple smiling sheepishly as they wait for the shutter, a son pulling his mom into the frame of a picture with him, little girls who couldn’t care less about the fountain because there is a cone of gelato in their hands and it seems way more important, an infant with no idea that her mom intends for her to throw the disk of metal from between her fingers. For the first time, in a city known for monumental sights, I stopped looking at the attractions. 

Living with a CERN Physicist

Sitting outside the Geneva train station waiting to be greeted by our three day host made me more than a little nervous. It didn't help that I couldn't guarantee I'd recognize him from the solitary photo I'd seen on the Couchsurfing website. This discomfort didn't dissolve upon his arrival. Conversation was rather stilted. To my minor dismay, he didn't jump into an explanation of his work more than to tell me that he is a theoretical physicist studying strong field interactions. When asked how he liked Geneva (he's recently moved to work at CERN after living in Rome, Berlin, Madrid, Liverpool and visiting countless other locations), he remarked that it was quite boring. (Oh...good.) By the end of the night though, we were at ease. He made us some amazing homemade spaghetti carbonara and took us out to visit part of the city. We eventually settled in on the pull out couch feeling more confident about the days ahead.

In the morning, Sue and I voyaged to the adorable town of Neuchatel rather unprepared for the cold rainy day. The town was lovely in all respects, but being cold and wet rather dampened (tee hee!) our spirits. Between a well designed museum, a youth circus, a castle, an old church, and just being ridiculous together though, we enjoyed ourselves nonetheless. Our host wasn't back from work when we reached Geneva, so we took a stroll along the lake and a short jaunt through the botanical gardens. The gardens are really magnificent in scale and contain lots cool looking buildings and exhibits (all of which were unfortunately already closed). We went out for dinner which, in the one of the most expensive cities in the world, is a bit daunting. Ironically, just a day after leaving Italy, we found ourselves enjoying the best Italian pizza we've tried though. So it was 100% worth it.

Today was the day I was most excited for. After all, we selected Geneva primarily because I wanted to see CERN. AND if I couldn't visit America on her birthday, the next best thing would be to visit CERN for the one year anniversary of the Higgs Boson announcement. We began the day by getting totally lost on the mission of visiting old town before exploring the Red Cross Museum (half Sue's fault as the one in charge of navigation and half my fault for totally disregarding navigation). Two hours and a couple sore feet later, we reached the museum to learn that the free temporary exhibit wouldn't be ready for another 6 months (longer that we could wait) and that the permanent exhibit cost about 17 dollars (more than we cared to spend). So, with all the positivity we could muster, we wandered into a free art museum just a block away. As per usual, we had fun. It's pretty hard not to have fun when you get to goof off with your best friend whom you only get to visit 3 times a year.

By the time we walked to the tram to CERN, I was very tired (Side note: Our host goes to bed around or after 1am and my body wakes up by 7am regardless). I fell asleep no less than 7 times on the 20 minute ride. Thank God for sisters who don't let you miss your stop to see a particle accelerator...

Mini background for non geeks: CERN is a European organization for nuclear research. The most notable feature is their 27km diameter particle accelerator hanging out 93m below ground level. This structure allows physicists from around the world to study a variety of topics such as antimatter, quarks, and the environment present at the start of the universe. Basically, they use really really really cold super-duper magnets and some electricity to smash protons together at nearly the speed of light. Think dueling boys' hot wheels cars on a track...but, about 1^30 times cooler.

Our tour consisted of:
-An informational video about CERN made for the 50th anniversary (2004, so rather outdated)
-A short presentation about the work being completed at the various sites by a researcher working at CMS
-A look into the control center for ATLAS (No one was there at the moment because the LHC was recently stopped for maintenence...well unless you count the woman making sure that everyone who goes down to the LHC comes back up)
-A 3D video about the parts and working of the LHC

Afterward, we enjoyed tons of interactive exhibits and experiments in their two permanent exhibitions. I found myself wishing that it would be possible to bring every physics class I ever have to see them. Next, we met up with our awesome host who treated us to some coffee. This is the first time I've had coffee in Europe because of a fear of espresso. One cup, a creamer, and a packet of brown sugar later though, I was sold on it and energized for a short walk. It was less showy than anything during the tour, but again, authenticity will always have a very special place in my heart. So, after exchanging the keys to allow some snacking and a nap (if this darn caffeine ever wears off), we returned to the apartment. To close, here's a short list of what I enjoyed most from the visit.

-Learning that they have a summer program for high school teachers (which with a bit more experience, some hard work, and a good dose of luck I might get to participate in someday)
-Noticing a "LGBT CERN" sign in a hallway
-Skimming educational and amusing comic books in the gift store
-Noticing a "Keep Calm and Baryon" sign
-Enjoying the Big Bang presentation within the Universe of Particles
-Feeling equal parts excited about everything I understood from the exhibits and challenged by the EXTREME quantity I have yet to learn.

Lousy at Leaving (Prague and Budapest)

As excited as I am about each leg of our journey, it’s still difficult to bid farewell to each city. Prague was so much more than I could have ever hoped. On the first day, we had some fantastic Czech food in a dungeon like restaurant and spent the night celebrating with some really cool Canadians (and one guy from Colorado).  The next day started with free breakfast and getting our sandwiches, followed by a tour of the city. That evening, we joined a Pivo tour. We met two larger than life men from Texas, a pair of nice guys from England, and three (eventually six) great guys from Sweden. It was many times more fun than I could have guessed and may be the highlight of the trip thus far.

Early the following morning (because my body would HATE for me to get a solid night’s sleep), Sue and I walked in the much cooler air to explore the castle grounds. Afterward, we walked through a handful of Jewish Synagogues, the cemetery, and Ceremonial Halls before attempting to create a Swedish flag.

I failed, but we were still invited to join the Swedish guys for their midsummer celebration. They treated us to holiday traditions and Swedish meatballs…yea, legit Swedish meatballs. I can feel your jealousy radiating, and it isn’t unfounded.  It was a fantastic time, which made it even harder to leave for Budapest.

And this is what I’m learning, I begin each city with the nostalgia of the sites, hostels, people, and food from the one before. There is little glamorous about arriving in a city after a day of trying to sleep on a bumpy train, which compounds with my lack of ability to cope with change to make me a less than pleasant arriver.

The time in Budapest was enough to make a couple new acquaintances, try some amazing new food, and develop routines. We were again blessed with a free breakfast,  and were able to swim in the healing waters of a bath house,  attend 3 walking tours, visit a gigantic market, and eat plenty. Perhaps my favorite part of the city was the affordability. A scoop of gelato will cost you about $.75, pizza is under a dollar, a huge bowl of creamy mushroom goulash is $3, and a big falafel wrap will set you back about $2.50. So, you can understand my repeated reticence boarding a plane to yet another new city,  Rome.

This was not totally aided by my less than smooth trip through security. However, there’s nothing like getting real friendly with an airport agent to build trust in the security of Hungarian flights, right? Next we were sent outside to what appeared to be a hanger before boarding the plane. And maybe I’m crazy, but I swear it was our pilot’s first time flying. Crazy pressure changes (my cold might not have helped), no warnings for turbulence,  and being greeted, upon landing, by a pilot who couldn’t be more than a couple years older than myself confirmed my suspicions. Since then, however, Rome has been absolutely splendid. Perhaps when it’s time to leave I’ll be able to beat the goodbye nostalgia this time. Only time, and another post, will tell.

Falling Asleep on Trains

There are a handful of embarrassing moments from my childhood I remember vividly. One I’ll admit to is falling asleep on a stranger on a shuttle from Disney world. Who could blame me? I was dehydrated, over stimulated, and exhausted, so my parents let me rest, even if it meant that when they woke me I felt completely humiliated Today is ending with that exact feeling…except instead of letting me sleep on strangers (thank goodness), my sister insisted we visit a pub for dinner.

I suspect it has something to do with her wanting to reform my morning behavior. While she was able to sleep in (6-ish) I woke at 3 and wasn’t able to fall back asleep. By the time she opened her eyes I was ready with a flood of words and energy (the choice to make myself caffeinated tea may not have helped).

When she was ready to face the world with me, we visited a supermarket and logged on to the internet for the first time in Berlin from a street café. Afterward, we joined a free walking tour of Berlin. It was a brilliant tour, igniting pangs of nostalgia from giving tours of UWL. After the three and a half hour long tour, we visited the Deutsche History Museum (free for the day!) and made a voyage back to the Topography of Terror exhibit located near a portion of the Berlin wall.

Since we visited on the anniversary of the workers uprising in East Berlin,
the memorial was bordered by hundreds of roses  

It was a great day, but extremely exhausting in every way. Today, I was glad that much of history can only be seen in black and white.  The words, the stories, and the faces of the pains of the past are enough for me. If every terrible pair of broken eyes or shattered dream were also captured in clear color, it might be too real. Berlin is steeped in history. Like every city (and more so in this case), much of what is remembered is negative. From serving as the capital for the Nazi party, resulting in shameless murders of the holocaust, book burnings, and political/economic manipulation, to the more recent struggles caused by the Berlin wall, The city is forced to walk a fine line between remembering and honoring those who have lost loved ones or livelihoods from these occurrences while trying to move forward as a city worth being proud of. The result is an artistic emotion and information overload.

The exhibit for the Topography of Terror is located in the ruins of  this building,
looking up towards the Berlin Wall

But, there is only so much one can feel in one day. So, when we dragged our feet back onto the U-Bahn, it was with sore feet, tired muscles, burnt skin, and the exhaustion of too little sleep.  But, as previously mentioned, Sue helped me stick to my no-naps plan and we made our way back to the pub Marlise brought us to yesterday. Because there were no empty tables, we found ourselves sharing one with an older gentleman (I was pretty stoked about it). When he killed a mosquito and began inspecting it, we struck up a conversation and discussed language, politics, and history for the remainder of the night.

A beautiful night to eat with a stranger

After all, tomorrow, President Obama will be visiting Berlin. It’s causing quite a stir because
a) He’ll be eating dinner in a castle that is normally reserved for only historic/artistic use
b) The set-up prevents some tourist/ building viewing opportunities
c) local residents will need to show passport identification to be let into their homes while he is visiting the castle

A Day of Trains and Bad Luck

Captain's Log:

June 14th-Uneventful

(Okay, maybe not totally, but enough not to merit a full description.) I cannot promise to keep my blogging this succinct for the rest of the trip. However, I'll try to maintain a high quality of writing. Aaaaand if I don't have time to be linguistically interesting, I'll use pictures. Deal?)

June 15th-I always forget that stepping off a plane is just the start of a journey rather than an excuse to relax, rest, and start enjoying where you are. Instead, it feels like stepping up the starting blocks of a sprint. Our trip was no different. Our flights went smoothly, and then the day went a little wrong.
1340-Arriving in Amsterdam, we’re informed that Eurail trains between Hannover and Berlin were down because of water levels. Using our resources, we log onto internet just long enough to email the information to our German hosts.
1407-Leave for Hilversum. If our first ride was at all representative of the train system here, I decided I would like it very much.
1550?-  We reach our transition station and find a place to wait 30 minutes for the next train. I noticed several emergency vehicles going by, but didn't think much of it. Then, police officers, transportation officials, and fire fighters started sprinting past us. We were evacuated from our comfy seats and a nice young man explained that someone had stepped in front of an oncoming train. The blond dude was also heading to Germany, and, in retrospect, it may have been wise just to say, "Okay, we're going to follow you." Instead we look at some maps, meet some lovely helpful people, visit the only Starbucks in the world without wifi, communicat with German hosts, and wait.
1627- (9:27am in WI) I'm running on about 3.5 hours of sleep and half a caffe  Americano
1722-Leave for Bad Bentheim after being told they would give us more instruction on the train
1914-Almost get off at the wrong stop, but a kind German lady sends us back onto the train
1920-…I don’t like Bad Bentheim, even if they have a free toilet.
1958-Board train to Osnabruck where they will supposedly send us to Hannover and then Berlin
2015-Encounter AWESOME bachelorette posse, but refrain from buying alcohol from bride to be
2045- Find Osnabruck DB info center to be informed that there aren’t any more regular trains in the direction we need to go, we’d need a reservation to board a night train, the reservation desk is closed, and EVEN if we boarded a night train from Osnabruck, we’d need another impossible reservation to ride from Bielefeld to Berlin.
2046-Either I have train legs (similar to sea legs, but more 2D), stress and lack of sleep are getting to me, or this office is definitely moving.
2047-Two men speaking to the woman next to us have the same problem and explain the Hilversum accident
2052-Our steward gets it “okayed” for us to board the night train, calls the hotel in the city (WAY over our budget), talks to a steward in Bielefeld (telling him that two desperate American women and two Indian men will be coming through and begging on their hands and knees to board the train to Berlin…I mean, I don’t speak German, but that’s what it sounded like). He checks with a Bielefeld hotel…which of course is all full because we’re arriving on the day of a carnival. He sends us on our way with the advice to ask the conductor if we may ride the next train and, “If ‘No’, then McDonalds. Open 24 hours.”
2135-We have adopted Amazing Race language, “Oh good, the Indian guys are here”
22:49-Board train. Technically, our travel buddies don’t have tickets anymore, so it’s a good thing the steward checks our tickets twice, but never theirs
23:00-Meet two Texans, but immediately dismiss them as possible allies as one is a Cowboys fan.
0012-Upon arrival, we meet a German only speaking steward who immediately asks if we’re going to Berlin (guess we’re an easy 4-some to recognize). He explains that he’ll talk to the next train steward for us.
0030-It’s cold. We finally exchange names with our travel companions CK and Aushwin*
0040-No steward, train seems to be running 15 minutes late
0043-A drunk man engages me in conversation and attempts to convince me that I speak German. I presume that he was so intoxicated he was under the impression that we was speaking in German rather than English (which is pretty impressive really). Even as a raging feminist, I have no issues with CK stepping in to suggest we walk away as Mr. Smelly Breath starts to forget to leave a social bubble for me.
0045-evasive z pattern relieves us of Mr.SB for a bit
0055-board night train…possibly accidentally in 1^st class?
0105-After lots of arguing, Mr. SB is escourted off the train because he doesn’t have a ticket
0300-Wake up less than fully rested, but unable to fall asleep
0500-Berlin!!!
0700-After a short train ride, the bus, and a 10 minute walk we reach Heidi’s flat and are let in by her friendly neighbor
1235-Wake up for mistakenly long nap… begin day.

Prepping for an Adventure

Change is not one of my strong suits. Even the best developments leave me feeling exhausted and particularly weepy. In less than 8 hours, I'll be on a plane to Europe. That combined with the idea of being a real, regular, full time teacher is yielding me plenty freaked out (but also VERY excited).

It's also been a crazy week. My sister and family arrived back in the states last week, and Monday was the final day of school for La Crosse. Between celebrating surviving the "year", getting together to catch up with Sue, and saying "good-bye"s before the trip, my calendar has been rather full. I've have laughed extremely hard, eaten too much yummy food (boy-oh-boy to middle school teachers know how to put together a pot luck!), and been able to spend time enjoying all the social opportunities I've had to decline throughout the school year.

Yesterday, I met with my mentor teacher at Holmen. I got to walk through my classroom and have tons of questions answered. I have a desk. A real one. To use for many years to come. I wont be borrowing another teacher's work space or temporarily filling things away on a table. I have an office with drawers and cupboards, and squirrel crossing signs, and the potential to be filled with all kinds of wonderful things. While there is still an immense amount I need to learn, I feel entirely confident that I'm in the best place to learn it. All the staff members I've encountered have been crazy supportive, and I can't wait to get to know everyone better.

Today, though Sue and I fly to Europe. I'm hoping I'll be able to update some while we're gone, but am not sure how much I'll be able to. We'll be gone until July 17th and will have limited internet access. We have a phone for emergencies and calls within Europe...if the SIM card we ordered decides to arrive on time. For anyone who is curious, here's our tentative schedule

15-18-Berlin
19-21-Prague
22-25-Budapest
25-28-Rome
29-1-Trento
1-2-Venice
3-4-Geneva
4-5- Leysin
6-10-Nancy
11-12-Paris
13-14- Amsterdam
15-Iceland
16-HOME!

Now, it's time to get back to packing and my AMAZING brunch

Fingers crossed it all fits in my pack

My stir-fry always comes out a little onion-sentric...

One Hundred and Seventy-Two Handshakes

You may already know that I love graduation ceremonies. So, getting to congratulate each of the Longfellow 8th graders on finishing middle school was a very special kind of treat. Some students took the hand shake seriously and used a firm grasp. Others tried to speed through the line, offering just their fingers and a quick wiggle. For each student I taught, however, I did my best to hold their attention long enough to let them know I was proud. I even got three tremendous hugs. It was a much needed celebration after the last few weeks.

I'm tired, so extremely tired. It's been one of the most dramatically stressful months of my life between school, my personal life, and trying to plan for my summer trip. I've stopped being conscientious of half the things I'm eating, have given up on regular sleep schedules, and am liable to start yelling or crying at the drop of a hat. With one and a half days left, I have a million things to do. The crazy schedules of this week (and many students' blanket refusal to do any more school work) have created a pile of unfinished assessments, making the steady stream of EXTREMELY late work quite preferable. It is June 6th, and even if the weather refuses to cooperate, we're all ready for summer.

There's a tulip on my desk though. When students waste fifteen minutes of class chattering away, or one student tells his peers again that he doesn't need to listen because I'm "not even a real teacher", or another accuses me of failing to help him, or when a third gives me her death glare which so clearly communicates how dramatic of a let down she feels I am...I remember that there is a tulip on my desk. One of my students with EBD gave me the fake flower a couple weeks ago. It's not much, but from a student who struggles each day to remember to bring anything to class or use social manners, it means absolutely everything.

Tulip, with 4 postcards I got to write to parents regarding some positive behaviors I witnessed

So, on days like today, the "Don't fall apart until you close the car door" kind of days, I take a second to remember the flower and that there are students who don't hate me. There are students who have learned things from me. There are students who enjoy my class. There are students who ask for hugs at graduation and who's parents tell me that they've heard about the fun things we did in math and science.
Deep breath in, deep breath out. From this experience I've learned many things. I'm am not a failure. I will walk out of the school next Monday with my head held high, ready for the next adventure life throws my way...Europe

The two second floor windows to the left are to my classroom as viewed from my car
...just thought I'd share.