Lost writings of a high school senior: The True(ly absurb) Tale of Bingo

Beginnings

Bingo's mother doesn't like his father.  They haven't gotten along in years, or ever since they adopted Bingo, at least.  Chico, his father, hates bananas.  He hates the smell of them, their peels, the mere sight of them.  Since Bingo is a monkey, that's what he eats; not all that he eats, of course.  Bingo also like banana pudding, banana and peanut butter sandwiches, banana pizzas, and all types of ice cream.
In short, Chico doesn't like Bingo or his bananas,  He fought Fabio tooth and nail against adopting a monkey, but their kids, Burrito and Pinto, loved the idea of having a monkey as a brother.  In the end, Chico lost and the Montegue family adopted a monkey and named him Bingo.  To compromise with Chico, Fabio agreed to let Bingo live outside in the big, big tree in the big, big backyard.

Makin' It Home

I wanted to make it home-ish.  I've been all over the world and this definitely would be the hardest to get adjusted to.  I mean, for Oscar's sake, they put me in a tree!  Granted, I AM a monkey, and Chico isn't too monkey-friendly, they could have at least given me an attic room or something.
My life has been crazy since I was a wee little monklet.  My biological mother and father weren't married when they had me because my mother's parents thought that she was too young for it.  So when she had me, they forced her to put me up for adoption.  It's sad to think sometimes about my real parents and how I've never met them.  But I've gotten to experience so many different lifestyles and cultures.
Even in Africa, they didn't make me live in a tree.  It was a cave, a very intricately developed cave.  I brought some interesting formations back from there when my African parents couldn't handle me any longer.  They are on a branch-shelf on one side of my bed.
Next, I went to Japan to live with a monk in a monastery.  It was a very quiet three years for me.  I didn't get to play with many children there... come to think of it, I didn't even see many other children there.  Or women.  Maybe they were anti-social or something.  Hmm.  Weird.  Anyway, they let me keep the beautiful Japanese lantern that I kept running into and busting the lightbulb.  I hang it over my bed-branch so I can read late at night.
The last place I went to was cold.  Very cold.  I lived in an igloo for only a few months with an Eskimo family.  Some icicles began forming on the end of my hair and it became hard for me to function.  I don't think monkeys are made for the cold.  I couldn't fin anything that wouldn't melt to bring back from there.
But here I sit; on one of the tallest branches in my big, big tree in the big, big backyard, staring at the back side of the Montegue home.

The Letter

Sycamore Acres was where the letter came from.  Fabio told me that was in Maryland, somewhere up north,  It was addressed to me.

Bingo Montegue

782 Mountain Air Lane

Colombia, SC 82138

The handwriting was elegant and educated.  The way the letters all had a slight slant, the way each "t" was crossed only on the right side, the curve of each "g".  It was beautiful writing.  I turned the envelop over to open it.  The top of it pulled off easily.  It must not have been sealed very well.  I gently slipped the folded paper out of its holder.

The letter was folded neatly two times, perfectly equal.  I straightened it out to find the same elegant handwriting in dark blue ink.  This is what it read:

     My Dearest Bingo,

  You wouldn't believe the trouble I went through to find you.  Oh, but those troubles are over now.  I'm glad I finally did.  Now I can catch up with what you're doing and I can tell you what all has happened here since you left.

   Your father left me a few years after we were forced to give you up.  Your grandparents never thought he was good enough for me,  Also, he couldn't stand to be without you.  I guess I just made things worse for him.  He really did want to keep you, and me, for that matter.  But my parents just wouldn't have it.  They're old fashioned.  Nothing we can do about that, huh?

    Anyway, what's new with you?  I know you've been all over the world.  I would love to hear some stories from you.  I don't think I've ever left Maryland.  Maybe when I was just a wee little monklet.  Hopefully, you'll write back and tell me about your life.  I would love to hear from my baby boy.

   Well, Bingo, I must get back to tending to your grandmother.  She is sick with the flu.  Please do write back.

                                       Love always,

                                                  Your mother

Tears welled up in my eyes.  One fell onto the letter and spread the blue ink.  I smiled.

It Smelled of Firewood

It smelled of firewood.  I saw the smoke rise.  It tinged my nose and burned my eyes.  That's when I looked down and saw that the old man was trying to burn down my tree!  I screamed like a little monklet and jumped to ground level to protest the new-found pyrotechnics of my tree.  I pounced onto his back, scratching at his eyes with my tree-climbing sharpened claws and kicking him in the bottom,  He was struggling to get me off his back while I was struggling to stay attached to him.

He hated me.  I hated him.  How I could work in this family, I do not know.  Luckily, I had Fabio on my side.  She was my saving grace.  She saved me from these random fits of fury and hate of Chico's.  This particular incident was no exception.  As blood streamed down Chico's face from a deep, long scratch of my claws, Fabio came screaming from the house.

"Bingo!" she yelled.  "Bingo, get off right this instant!"

I jumped off of the old ungrateful man.  I took one look at Fabio's expression and immediately felt ashamed.  She took a look at the gash in Chico's forehead, clicking her tongue in disappointment.

"Ouch," Chico complained.  "That hurts, woman."  I saw Fabio's expression change from disappointment to annoyed anger at once.  Her eyes narrowed and face hardened.  I turned slowly to jump back up to my favorite branch at the top of my tree.  This was no longer my battle.  It was all Chico's.

The Bananas

The grocery store was glad when I came to town and was able to grow the bananas on the tree properly.  They hadn't had real bananas since the monkey garden was bulldozed.  I had the touch, it was a skill that just happened to run in my blood.  Who knew?
When I turned 11, I began my business with the produce department.  They told me that my bananas were the best that the grocery store had ever gotten.  Even better than the monkey garden.  The bananas went faster than ever.  Everyone loved them,  Their ripeness, their length, their color.  After picking bunches for the store, there would still be plenty of bunches left over for my family, who, naturally, never had to buy bananas from the store again.

I made loads of money too, but I put most of it away for college funds for Pinto and I.  No one thought that Burrito would make it to college.  We were all convinced that he would just end up as a bag boy at the grocery store.

My Little Pinto

Pinto is the smallest Montegue.  When I first got to the Montegue home, Pinto was shy and very quiet.  She hid behind her mother's legs, peeking out so that I could only see the very top of her eyes. Gradually, she came around to talking to me and asking me questions.  I told her all about where I've been and why I'm a monkey, you know, because kids ask questions like that.  I told her that my mama and daddy were monkeys and very in love.  And she interrupted, "Yeah, I know what happens when two people really love each other..." then she paused.  "So why didn't they want you anymore?"  I answered solemnly, "Because my mother's parents didn't approve of me."  I could tell that she felt sympathetic. I read it in her eyes.  I said, "It's okay, Pinto.  I'm okay.  I like it here."  She smiled.

After that first conversation, we became very close.  It seemed like I had always been with her.  Of course, she was only 8 when I got there, so learning about her life didn't take much longer than a half hour.

Pinto got really good at climbing my tree.  She would come up to sit with me on warm nights, talking about the stars or anything else that happened to be on her mind.  It was usually about Burrito teasing her, or her father being too critical of her.

My favorite time with her was the night she came to me with her math homework.  She trudged across the big, big yard to my tree, looked up and called my name.  I was near the top, so I swung down a few branches.

"Pinto?  Come on up."

"I can't," she answered.

"Why not?"

"Because I have my math book with me.  I can't climb the tree with this stuff in my hands."

"Oh," I replied.  "I'll come down then."

So, I dropped down to the ground and we sat under my tree while I explained to her how to multiply.  When she completely understood it, she asked if she could have a banana.  I said sure and went to grab one for her and one for me.  I brought the two bananas back down and we sat for another hour and a half just talking.  We talked until the stars were out and mother called us in for dinner.

Whenever I'm by myself, looking at the stars, I think of my little Pinto.  That's what she is.  My little Pinto.

Burrito's Friends

Burrito brought over some of his friends the other night.  They seemed to be nice when I first met them, but I don't think they could fathom having a monkey as a sibling.

After dinner, the boys went out to the backyard to throw the football around.  I'm not much for sports, so I just climbed my tree and began reading a book for my English class.

I was well into the book when I heard a commotion at the bottom of my tree.  I looked down and saw two of the boys starting to climb up.  Burrito was yelling at them and trying to get them down, unsuccessfully.

I descended until I was right above them and asked them what they were doing.

"We just wanted to see where losers really live," said the shorter one.

"Yeah, nice room.  Where's the bathroom?" the other, fatter one laughed,

As you could imagine, I didn't take this very well.  I picked up the closest thing I could grab, which happened to be old. hardened feces.  As I threw the feces at the fat kid's head, I triumphantly exclaimed, "In your face!"

Needless to say, Burrito never brought friends home again.

B-I-N-G-O

There was a man who had a monkey and Bingo was his name-o.

B-I-N-G-O. B-I-N-G-O. B-I-N-G-O and Bingo was his name-o.

This monkey liked to climb his tree and Bingo was his name-o.

clap-I-N-G-O. clap-I-N-G-O. clap-I-N-G-O and Bingo was his name-o.

He really liked to eat bananas and Bingo was his name-o.

clap-clap-N-G-O. clap-clap-N-G-O. clap-clap-N-G-O and Bingo was his name-o.

Pinto was his bestest friend and Bingo was his name-o.

clap-clap-clap-G-O. clap-clap-clap-G-O. clap-clap-clap-G-O and Bingo was his name-o.

That stupid man hated him and Bingo was his name-o.

clap-clap-clap-clap-O. clap-clap-clap-clap-O. clap-clap-clap-clap-O and Bingo was his name-o.

The monkey's cool and I love him and Bingo was his name-o.

clap-clap-clap-clap-clap. clap-clap-clap-clap-clap. clap-clap-clap-clap-clap and Bingo was his name-o.

Listening to God

So God speaks to us.  We're supposed to listen and obey.  That's it.  No questions asked (albeit NOT blind faith).  It's simple, right?  The Father tells us to do something, we do it; just like we should with our earthly fathers (honor your parents).  However, in practice, it's not that easy to be obedient.
Disclaimer:  I do not claim to be any kind of Biblical scholar, and this is not going to be a deep-seeded, profound message on the Word of God and its implications in our lives.  I simply want to share a personal story about listening to God, being obedient, and the joy it brings.
Quick background on me:  My parents are musicians.  They met when my dad's band was looking for a singer and my mom answered.  Thirty years later, they have three kids who have inherited the same passion for music.  My oldest brother has been a drummer longer than I've been alive (he got his first set on his 2nd birthday - a year before I was born).  He has been sitting in with mama and daddy in the band since he was 7? 8? 9? 10?  Somewhere in there (hey, I'm 3 years younger and those three years make a HUGE difference in memory capacity).  The point is, he's been playing for a while.  At the same time, since I was 5, I've been jumping up on stage and singing with my mama.  My first solo debut was when I was 5 at Halby's Delicatessen (it's been closed for a while -- you missed out!  Delicious food!!).  I sang "This Little Light of Mine" with Lightening Wells playing the guitar.  He is a local legend!  Fast forward about 10 years.  My other brother picked up the bass guitar when he was in high school and my daddy taught him how to play.  Many bands had come and gone between my parents and brothers before we all started playing together.  I don't know if you have anything that you do with your family, but it's a feeling that nothing else can invoke.  I highly recommend finding something!  Anyway, we have a band.  It's called Individually Twisted.  There have been several variations of IT based on who is playing with us.  My brothers were in a different band together and sometimes, they weren't able to play gigs with us so we had to find another drummer and bass player to fill in.  We've had keyboard players and other singers.  The core is, and has always been, mama and daddy.  No matter who was playing with us, as long as mama and daddy were there, I knew I was where I was supposed to be.  But when the boys are playing, there's a connection that is unparalleled.  There's this one song, "Like the Way I Do" by Melissa Etheridge that we play, and there's this one part at the end where it's just instruments and everyone is jamming.  Mama and I are dancing around, me banging the tambourine against my leg (and bruising it many times).  Everyone is in sync and it's powerful.  I close my eyes and breathe in the indescribable notion that this is my family and we are ONE.  Any negative feelings melt away and I'm at peace with everything.  I don't know how else to describe it.  It's just amazing!
What about listening to God, Jordan??  What happened to that?
I haven't forgotten my purpose for this blog.  The details of my background and family are essential for what I'm getting to next.
When I was 20, I start going to church.  I've always believed in God, and had been a visitor in a few churches, but until I started going to Ridgecrest, I didn't know what it meant to have a personal relationship with Christ.  Wow.  I think I'm just realizing that.  Sweet!  Anywho, I start going to church and learning about God and who He is.  I feel Him pulling me to him, until one afternoon (September 24, 2007), I ask Christ into my heart.  It was an amazing feeling.  I felt like a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders.  I was excited and filled with a joy that I had never felt before.  Thoughts in my head had begun to change.  Words from my mouth had begun to change.  Things I was interested in had begun to change.  One thing that has never changed, though, is my passion for music.  I started listening to Christian music.  About this time, Ridgecrest had added the Exalt service at 9:45 and I got plugged into that ministry by running sound.  That was back when Packy was playing his acoustic guitar (with Jason on bass, Denny on drums and Jenny H. singing before she had her baby).  I would sit back, turn the knobs, move faders, push buttons (I love buttons!), and sing along with every song.  I wanted so badly to ask Packy if I could sing with him, but I never had the confidence to do it.
Time passed.  Things changed.  The Deans took over Exalt worship when Packy and Stephanie left.  I want to say that they were a step up from Packy, but not because they were better.  I absolutely LOVE acoustic guitars!!  I mean that they brought the full band, more guitars and more voices.  It was a bigger sound job.  More knobs to turn, faders to move and buttons to push (I love buttons!).  With them, they also brought Molly.  Molly is a few years younger than I am with a voice that's as natural and powerful as my mom's (I'm sure I could have made a more relative comparison for my readers to understand, but to me, my mom's voice is at the top of all voices that I love -- so the comparison is a compliment to Molly!).
It would be so awesome to sing with the Exalt band!  But there is no way I could do that.  I can't sing like Molly! was a thought I often had.
More time passed.  I stopped doing sound because I was in my last year of school, student teaching, and was not going to be able to devote as much time to it as I wanted to.  I totally intended on going back when I graduated and was home permanently.  That brings us to this past January.
I went to Winter Conference in Gatlinburg, TN with some of the youth.  It was a great weekend.  I got to hear the popular Clayton King speak, as well as some others, and the worship leader was the famous Carl Cartee.  "Let the world see..."  :)  Yes, that Carl Cartee.  I got so much out of that weekend, through time spent with some of the girls, time spent in the mountains that God created, through the messages brought during the sessions, and definitely through the music.  I think if there's one way that God speaks to me, it's through music.  I've heard his still, small voice many times through the sound of His music.  Carl Cartee probably had a greater impact on me than he knows.  During one of the worship times, between songs, Carl talked about listening to God and being obedient.  That hit me like a punch in the gut.  Let me back up for a second.  For the past year, I had been hearing God tell me that I NEEDED to sing at church.  Almost every time the pastor would say something at the end of the message like "ask God what your next step is" or anything with the word OBEY, I would hear Him say "SING!" and think of a thousand reasons not to, which was always funny (weird funny, not haha funny) considering my passion for music and singing.  Okay, back to Mr. Cartee.  He said that, it hit me like a ton of bricks and I finally said, "Okay, God.  Take me there!"  And on the last day of the conference, maybe an hour before we left, God took me down to the stage where I talked to Carl Cartee about singing and Carl prayed for my boldness to obey the Lord.  It took a couple of weeks after getting back home to find that boldness to talk to Hubert.  He said, "Sure.  We'll give you an audition and see where to go from there" (my paraphrase).  I sang "Follow You" with Phyllis for the audition.  They said that it was awesome and that they looked forward to me singing with them in the future.  On March 25, I sang for the first time with the Exalt band.  It was just one song, "Shout to the Lord" and I thank God that he wasn't asking me to sing the part that I first thought he was, because that wouldn't have been pretty.  They just needed another voice to sing the chorus in the second half of the song.  "Shout to the Lord" was the last song of the service, after the offering and before dismissal.  As they played "Hungry" for the offering, I stood in the front row, with such bad trepidation that my jaw was rattling (not your normal I'm-freezing-cold chattering, but this-may-be-the-last-thing-I-ever-do terrified rattling).  Seriously.  My teeth hurt!  I walked up to Shay and told him that I was singing the next song and was so nervous that I didn't know what to do.  He prayed for me, and almost immediately, this feeling of calm rained down on me.  I was still a little nervous, but I was able to sing since my jaw had stopped rattling!  It was an amazing feeling for several different reasons.  First, the song was powerful!  The spirit of God was all in that song!!  Second, I was finally combining two of my passions in a good and productive way - singing to/about/for God.  And lastly, but most importantly, I realized that I was being obedient to God.  I had been fighting it for a while, but once I submitted to Him, it was amazing.  I stopped worrying and thinking and trying, and I just let Him work in me.  And that is truly a feeling that is unparalleled.  Nowhere, no one and nothing else on earth can do that.
It's funny to me that we fight God so much on what He wants us to do because of what we want to do, but when we submit wholly to Him, we see and feel His blessings and we are filled with a joy that comes from nowhere else but Him.
Fast forwarding a few months, this past June, I got to do something that I had been waiting for for so long to do.  I got to sing with Molly.  I was both extremely excited and extremely nervous to do so.  I was telling my daddy about it and he simply asked me "Why?"  Why was I nervous to sing with her.  My answer:  She's amazing!  Her voice  far surpasses anything I could ever dream to do with mine.  He said, "That's ridiculous.  Don't compare yourself to anyone else and let that stop you.  Be great at what you're great at, and she'll be great at what she's great at.  You're not the same person, so you won't have the same strengths" (again, my paraphrase).  Let me make this clear: Molly is not a god, I do not worship her, she is not an idol.  However, I admire her and absolutely LOVE her voice!  She intimidated me for a long time.  But after talking to my dad, I remembered that God made us all with different and special gifts.  Molly and I both have a gift of song, but they are completely different.  I got to the first practice with Molly on Wednesday night and I confessed that I was so excited to sing with her, and to my surprise, she was just as excited to sing with me!  That was just so cool!!
And all because I listened and obeyed God!  I took a little longer to obey, but God is persistent.  AND GOOD!!
Have faith.  Don't hesitate.  Simply obey.

Year in Review - teacher's edition

Soooo...  I realize that it's almost been a year since I've blogged.  Needless to say, there's a lot to cover.  I may not get to it all in this one.  But I think I'll start with the reason that most likely kept me from blogging: teaching!

This past year was my first year teaching.  I taught 8th grade Language Arts.  To be perfectly honest, I was terrified!!  I got into my classroom and was overwhelmed with all kinds of emotions.  I focused on trying to get it arranged, organized and decorated.  My dad gave me some small white bookshelves that he found in the warehouse at his work.  I spent a few hours painting them!!

My room was small and I had to figure out how to arrange 26 student desks, my teacher desk, the long bookshelf, the tall cabinet and my computer cart.  When the year started, I only had one white board to work with, and therefore could only do so much with the desks because I had to make sure I could project onto the board.  During the third or fourth week, I got another whiteboard installed!  So I then had (almost) double the work space.  I used one board for projecting and modeling the notes and used the other board for the daily and weekly updated (date, essential question, agenda, lunch menu, and any other announcements).

Original White board and black butcher paper for my concept map (if you don't know, don't worry)

The wall in between mine and the other LA teacher's rooms with the ridiculously placed window.  Seriously, why would you put a window in between two classrooms of middle schoolers??

My awesome door to the outside!!

My desk in it's first place.

The back wall.  Much thanks to my sister and mother in law for helping me get things on the walls!

 If you know me well, then you know that I can't keep things the same for too long.  Through the course of the year, my teacher desk was in all four corners of the room, the tall cabinet was in three of the corners, and I moved the concept map from the front wall to the back wall and back to the front wall.  Every time I moved my desk, I moved the student desks.  Sometimes, I rearranged the student desks for no reasons... Partly because of my need for change every so often, and partly because I loved to see/hear my students' reactions when they walk in and see the desks in a different shape.  

My desk in it's 3rd corner, by the outside door.  I think this was my favorite!

You can see my added whiteboard on the left side.  Through the door (in the middle-ish), is Ms. McCullum's room.  Yes, we had to walk through her class to get to mine!

I had this timer when I was student teaching and it worked great!  This past year, I learned that for the most part, 8th graders don't care how much of my time they waste.  (They did get better!)

 That's a lot about my classroom...  I spent a lot of the first few work days on my room.  I didn't think much about what I would be teaching until the 3rd day of school (the first two were half-days filled with get-to-know-you games and confusion... mostly confusion).  My collaborator, Ms. McCullum, was a 2nd year teacher and she had all her stuff from her previous year.  That was pretty much what I used to plan my lessons!  :)  Other teachers are many times the best resources!!!  If there's one thing I learned this year (and there are many things), it's that teachers are in meetings... A LOT!!!!  Some of these meetings are okay and you can actually get useful information from them.  Many of them, however, felt like colossal wastes of time.  I learned the most by observing and talking to other teachers.  I made great friends with one of the 6th grade teachers who taught 7th grade the year before and who knew many of my students.  I spent many of my planning periods in her class and got to know many of her students.  She came into my class many times during her planning too.  We became known to our assistant principal as "double trouble."  And really, except for the meetings when we were crazy bored... or work days when we were crazy bored, we really weren't that bad!  There was that one meeting... whew!  That was a doozy.  I actually feared a conversation with the principal after that one, but I think even he was bored out of his mind and was counting how many times the presenter said words that started with the letter S.  Yeah, I'm pretty sure he was.
In March, Amanda (aforementioned 6th grade teacher) and I convinced our principal that we needed to go to a Holocaust workshop in Charlotte.  We got a hotel room.  The search for the hotel room was extensive... It had to have an indoor pool!  (Outdoor pools are not as much fun in March!)  We left right after school, got to the hotel, went to dinner, then the grocery store for snacks, then to the pool (with the snacks!).  The workshop was the next day from 8-4:30 with an hour lunch.  It was incredible!  My UNCG History of the Holocaust professor was a speaker.  He, of course, gave us a detailed history of antisemitism and Hitler, and gave us some reasonable causes of the horrible period.  After lunch, we heard from a Holocaust survivor.  I was on the edge of my seat.  His story was incredible!  He wrote a book.  I totally bought the book!  And he signed it!  I have a piece of history in my office!!  We also got a TON of resources about how to teach the Holocaust, which I'm so excited about!!  We had a great time and learned a lot!
In May, I had the UN-pleasure of administering the EOGs for the first time ever.  UN-pleasure is an UNderstatement!  It was awful.  Boring.  Tiring.  Stressful.  Boring.  But successful.  There was growth in my students.  BUT even worse than the EOGs was remediation week, which I affectionately refer to as "hell week."  It lead to the second time I had to walk out of my class before crying (the first was when I was threatened by one of my students and I was so mad that I had to leave before I started throwing things).  I was so stressed out, I didn't know which way was up, the students didn't know where they were going and they didn't care about being remediated. 
In June came the most rewarding time of the year; the END!!  We got to celebrate the students who did well on the EOGs, and all year.  We had an 8th grade cook-out (in which my students discovered that I could play football--or at least pretend to. I did score a touchdown though...) 
(I'm not sure why this part is highlighted...?)

Getting ready for the hike...

Our celebratory poses!  

The student I asked to take pictures did a horrible job of capturing my awesome TD.  But, for me, I have the memory, and for you, well... I hope you have enough experience watching football on TV or enough imagination to pretend.  :)

We also had an 8th grade dance on June 1st.  I didn't realize that these kids take this dance so seriously.  There was one student who was on the list of no-gos, but fought to go.  In the end, we let him attend.  Between him and his girlfriend, I'm pretty sure their parents had spent $300!  And it showed when they got there!  This dance was like prom for middle schoolers...  Actually, the only difference that I know of is that my students had to get dropped off by their parents.  I heard about a bunch of after parties, which kinda scared me!  But everything turned out great!!  One of the highlights of the dance is when the students found out that the two science teachers were dating, and had been the entire year!  It was hilarious.  The other highlight was watching Mr. Carmichael, an extreme type-A, serious, rigid guy, break out the best robot dancing I've ever seen.  It was soooo smooth and the kids LOVED it!!

Mr. Pentoney and Ms. Snyder!  I knew the first day they met that they would get together!

Carmichael breaking it down for the students.  Hilarious!!

 The last day of school was emotional.  I was exhausted and worn down and sun burnt (thanks to the cook out when we stayed outside ALL DAY!), but when the end of the day came and we were out in the bus lot, I watched my kids leave.  My babies.  The pains in my butt.  My lovelies.  I have to be honest, I teared up.  Tears almost fell down my cheek.  It was when I realized that I just finished teaching 8th graders who would be moving on to the 9th grade... at the high school... not down the hall and around the corner.  It was the end of my first year and all the relationships I had worked for (some I worked ALL year at), were leaving and I'd probably never see them again.  Yes, some will come back to see me next year, but, as I try not to do anything in Roxboro except work, the likelihood that I'll see any of them outside of school is very slim!
I had a great year.  I think I learned more than my students did.  I had an incredible team I worked with in the 8th grade.  I made some new friends.  I kinda figured out how to teach.  I was also asked to come back.  I liked that part!  :) I'm really excited about next year!!  Wow... this turned out to be a long blog.  I guess I'll have to write more blogs!  It's 3 in the morning and I've been working on this one since 11pm.  I think I'm finally getting sleepy.  Goodnight blogging world!

Why I love Blair Garnett

This was going to be a Facebook status, but the more I thought about it, the more I had to say and there are only so many characters they'll allow in a status. Sometimes, just a little note is enough to express my love for Blair. Other times, I feel like all the words in the world would never be enough to fully convey the extent of my feelings for him.

Often times, when trying to describe what something is, describing what it isn't is a good place to start. So here it goes:

I LOVE BLAIR GARNETT!!!

• Not because he worships the ground I walk on
• Not because he's perfect
• Not because he does things for me
• Not because he gives me stuff
• Not because he takes care of me
• Not because he's hot, funny, nice, etc.

I LOVE BLAIR GARNETT!!!

• Because he worships God
• Because he's not perfect
• Because he wants to do things for me
• Because he wants to give me stuff
• Because he wants to take care of me and make sure that I'm okay and happy
• I do think he's hot and funny and sweet. That's what hooked me in the beginning. But in the almost five years we've been together, I've learned that he's so much more than that!
  
  
  
  

Blair challenges me everyday to be the best me I can be. He wants me to be the best Christian, the best person, the best teacher, the best woman, the best wife, the best cook (wish list! haha), the best Jordan that I can be.

Blair is not perfect. Perfect for me. But not perfect. I'm not either, for the record. Being imperfect gives us room to learn and experience, and I love that he wants to learn and experience life with me.

Blair wants to do things for me and make sure that I'm okay. I love him for that because that is the man that God made him to be. He doesn't do those things just because he knows it would make me happy. It does, but that's not why he does it.

Blair is a good looking man. He likes to keep his hair short. He has beautiful blue eyes (I told him one time after we'd been together almost a year that we'd make pretty babies with beautiful eyes!). He has the hands of a hard working man, rough and calloused, but when he's holding my hand or touching my face, they are gentle and kind. He thinks his nose is big, but I think it's a perfect fit for his face and I love it. I could go on about how I think he's hot, but I don't want to bore anyone.

I just wanted to express that I love my husband, and not because I feel it. I certainly do feel it. I still get those butterflies when we kiss sometimes. But I love him because I choose to. Because he challenges me, because he wants to learn and grow with me, because he chooses to love me too. I thank God that I get to fall asleep and wake up next to this man, Blair Garnett, who He made for me. I also thank God that he finally realized that he was made for me. :)

I've got more... I could go on forever about Blair, but I'm sure whoever is reading this has better things to do.

Finally... the Wedding Blog!

May 21, 2011 was a wonderful day in my life. It was long; started early and ended late, but at the end of it, I got to lie in the arms of my best friend.

After the rehearsal and the dinner the night before, I went over to the reception site and helped get things ready. This involved pouring candy and glass rocks and flowers into little square dishes to decorate the tables. That’s pretty much all they let me do that night. We were there until about 11, then I went home. There was one more project I wanted to do. Instead of fancy chair covers for the bride and groom, I got little wooden hearts and painted them brown and green with a J and a B in them to look just like our invitations. I had newspaper spread out on my bed, had my paint and brushes ready and turned on the TV to something… probably Say Yes to the Dress or Four Weddings. The hearts weren’t that hard to paint, but it took a while to do one coat, let it dry, do another one, make the letters perfect, and so on and so forth. When I got done with those, it was probably 12:30 or 1 in the morning.

Even though I was done with my last project, I still couldn’t get to sleep. I was laying awake, watching television until 4, yes FOUR, in the morning, knowing that I would have to get up soon and begin getting ready. When my alarm went off sometime between 7:30 and 7:45, I woke right up, like I’d had a perfect 8 hours of sleep. I walked into the kitchen to find my mom, dad and aunt up to their elbows in cabbage, which also covered the floor from one end to the other. The only thing I specifically asked my mom to do for the wedding was to make slaw. We were having barbeque and chicken, and there is no one’s slaw that I love more than hers. It was worth it! I left them to cut, chop, grind and mix, and went back into my parents’ bathroom where the big garden tub was waiting for me. I filled it with warm water and smelly-good bubbles and soaked for quite a while. I had my iPod and was playing Solitaire on it.

Everything was all good until I saw a spider fall into the water. I was okay until I couldn’t find it anymore to scoop it out. I drained the tub and washed it out and then had to refill it to actually bathe. It was really funny to me. I’d say that you had to be there, but it would be a little weird if people were in the bathroom while I was taking a bath. Just trust me. It got me off to a humorous start – I made myself laugh with the whole thing – it would have been worse if I was one of those people who freak out at the sight of a bug. But I’m not, so it was funny.

After my bath, I ate a handful of grapes and spent a few minutes browsing Facebook. I was surprised to have so much down time on such a big, important day. But all I had to do was get to the church and get ready. So I left the house and went to the church. There were already some people there getting things set up. I helped them with what was left and then went to my dressing room. A good friend went out and got me a strawberry-banana smoothie from McDonald’s and that was my breakfast, lunch and dinner for the day.

Brittany was my first bridesmaid there.

It was too early to get in our dresses, so we just sat in the room and waited for everyone else. I took out my iPod and played a few songs on it while stretching out across some chairs. Amanda showed up

soon after my brother got there with my niece, Cadence, the cutest flower girl ever.

I was standing outside the church talking to my brother, Jonathan, when I saw Blake’s big truck come around the corner. I knew that Blair was with him, so I bolted, mid-sentence, back into the church (when I thought about it later, I made myself laugh… again, for the second time that day). I don’t know what the big deal about the bride and groom seeing each other before the ceremony, or whatever that thing is. I don’t believe in luck. Blair said that we were getting married whether we saw each other or not. I just wanted that moment when I stepped out of the limo to be super special.

Also, before we parted ways the night before, I said to him, “The next time you see me, I’ll be in a wedding dress and we’ll be getting married!” It just had a nice ring to it.

Finally, all my girls were there

and all the guys were there and we were all getting ready. Well, I was waiting for my mama to get there. I figured she’d want to help her only girl into her wedding dress. Alas, she is my mother and was leaving the house (15 minutes away from the church) at 1:45, when I was already supposed to be ready so we could take pictures. I had to get ready without her. Bittersweet. But Amanda and Brooke, our fabulous director, helped me into my dress.

But she soon got there and I put her corsage on wrist and we had a nice mother-daughter moment. Yay!

Amanda put on my make-up and before we knew it, it was 2:10, time to get into the limo.

There was some kind of to-do with the direction we were going in that caused a slight delay in getting down to the pond. I don’t know what it was but it was a good thing it happened because I had left something in our dressing room. I looked down the line of girls and asked, “Did everyone get their flowers?” thinking of them and the guys (I sent Amanda and Brooke to boutonniere the boys). Then I realized that I was missing my own flowers. I had left them on the podium in the room we changed in.

Anna was closest to the door, so I yelled at her to run and get them. Slight panic, but not Bridezilla. While she was gone, the limo driver pulled us back around to the door so she wouldn’t have to walk back to where we were. Once she was in, we pulled off again, in the other direction this time. Instead of driving right down to the pond, we rode all the way around the church so that the limo would be facing the road, which worked out well.

As we rode down, we passed Marc Francis, Steve and Blair. Steve shielded Blair’s eyes so that he couldn’t see inside, which he couldn’t anyway, but it was funny to see.

I was thinking when I saw him, “He’s so handsome in that suit!” The limo was parked and we were waiting for the guys to walk down and take their places at the end of the aisle, and I started to hyperventilate and my eyes began to tear up. I closed my eyes and repeated to myself, “I’m not getting married, I’m not getting married.” My girls all looked at me, half with panic, half with laughter and asked what I was saying. I told them that I was starting to freak out and that as long as I told myself that it wasn’t me who was getting married I would be okay. I wasn’t backing out or rethinking it. All the pressure and stress of a wedding had just hit me. For just a few moments. We all laughed and I was okay again. No tears, no thoughts of running. My hands weren’t even shaking. I was all smiles and ready to go.

The limo was the best idea I had for the wedding. It allowed me to see everything without being seen. I watched all the guys walk their respective girls down the aisle. I could see all the guys standing down there with their shades on looking like Men in Black.

It was hilarious. I watched as Karla tried to get Cadence to do the bubble thing, which she wasn’t going for at all.

That was fine with me. I had decided that if she blew the bubbles down the aisle, it would be adorable, and if she didn’t, she’d still be the cutest thing that has ever happened at a pond wedding at Ridgecrest. I was right. She made me laugh and everyone was awww-ing as she wandered down the aisle. There’s only so much you can get a two year old to do. Looking cute comes natural to her.

Suddenly, it was time for me to make my grand entrance. I looked at my daddy and smiled.

I slid over to the door and handed him my bouquet. Then I gathered my skirt with one hand and took my daddy’s hand with the other and emerged from the air-conditioned limousine. It was really cool to see everything from the back. Everyone stood and I could hear my friend, Rob, singing “She’s Everything” as I walked down the aisle to the man I would from then on call my husband… among other names. J

There are many things I could say about the next twenty minutes of that day, but I’ll just say this: It was worth all the money and stress and craziness to stand in front of our family and friends and profess our love for each other and for God, and to join as one in a marriage covenant, one of the most holy of all holy sacraments we can do here, with each other and with God. A few highlights: braiding God’s Knot (gold represents God and keeping Him at the center of our marriage, purple stands for man who is the head of the household as Christ is the head of the church, and white represents the purity of the bride) while Rob sang “Love Never Fails,” one of my favorite songs and a way to get the “love chapter,” 1 Corinthians 13, into our ceremony without reading it;

my veil taking up with the wind and making me laugh; Amanda passing out (not her finest moment, but she’s cool enough that the very next day, we could joke about it… and revenge is sweet – they’ll be getting married next year!); and hearing Marc Francis announce us as Mr. and Mrs. Steven Blair Garnett Jr. The kiss was pretty fantastic too.

We got back in the limo and the driver took us for a little ride. We went all the way down Milton road to Roxboro road and came back up by Northern High and then back to the church. We laughed and kissed and smiled and took a few deep breaths. We were married! …Well, not until Steve and Karla signed the license, but for all intents and purposes, we were married and it was exciting! We stuck around the church and took some pictures while everyone headed over to the reception site. This part took longer than I wanted, but it was still good. Here are some highlight pictures.

We finally finished the pictures and Blair and I, and my niece Cadence, got into the limo and rode to Norman’s Stables for the party. I'm not sure how she worked that out, but it's hard to say no to Cadence!

The reception was a reception (check out the pictures on Facebook... It takes a LOT of time and energy to post pics in a blog!). We got there and I immediately okayed the feast to begin. The rest of the party wasn’t there yet so we couldn’t do the announcements and I didn’t want to make our guests wait any longer than they already had (an hour!). My friend, Amy, came down from Massachusetts for the wedding. She’s been a good friend since 7^th grade. She’s been my eating partner since 7^th grade. She was the first in line after my and Blair’s plates were made. I definitely did not want to keep her waiting any longer either! Once everyone was there and had gotten a little something to eat, we did the announcement of the whole party, starting with the wonderful parents. Then we have my brother, Jonathan, escorting my friend and maid of honor, Anna; Blair’s brother Blake escorting their sister Brittany; Blair’s best friend Mark escorting his girlfriend Amanda; and pulling up the rear is my best friend and maid of honor, Karla walking with my niece Cadence. After they were announced, we were announced. Mr. and Mrs. Blair Garnett. I love it!! Then we danced to “My Girl.” It was fun. The whole time, Blair was saying, “Is it over yet? Everyone is staring at me. Can I sit down yet?” He’s not big on being the center of attention. I don’t mind so much.

There was dancing and eating and laughing and celebrating. And then there was CAKE!! A beautiful cake! A delicious cake! A humongous cake that I still have pieces of in the refrigerator almost two months later! And yes, of course we smooshed it into each other’s faces. We wouldn’t be us if we didn’t. It’s okay though because then we cleaned each other’s faces off, like a good husband and wife.

I guess the next big thing was the Father-Daughter dance. It was unbelievably difficult to choose a song for this, but once I decided on one, it was like, “DUH!” It just made sense. My daddy and I have always been really close. I am the epitome of a daddy’s girl and that’s never going to change. And taking into consideration that I was a princess that day, the song just worked. Two days before the wedding, I finally decided on “Cinderella” by Steven Curtis Chapman. When one of the choruses played, my dad looked out to the people watching and said, “I’m dancing with Cinderella!” It was really cute. And that dance went very much like my first dance with Blair; there was a lot of “No, the song isn’t over yet. Yes, we have to dance the whole time. Quit complaining, it’s almost over. One more chorus.”

By this time, a lot of people had already left. My family got up and played anyway. My mom had been losing her voice for a few days and therefore could not sing, so she called me up and I sang instead. My daddy played his guitar like it was on fire. My oldest brother, Jonathan, played the drums while my other brother, James, played his bass. We “adopted” Bryan Dickerson to play the keyboards, and I sang. The first song is one of my favorite songs. It’s called “Big White Gate” by Grace Potter. She wrote it about her grandmother after she died. It’s about how it’s never too late for forgiveness and that the people in Heaven might like to hear her sing. It isn’t completely faith-based, but I still like the “It’s never too late for forgiveness” message. Steve later told me that he was walking out to the van to get something when the song started and had to turn around to see who was singing. It’s a great song to sing. It’s how I know I can sing just about anything. Anyway, the boys took over and did a few more before we ended with “Hotel California,” my all-time favorite song. I sang this one too and it was also awesome. After that, the Fabulous Hot Dog Daddios took back the stage. Deanna and a few others took our gifts and put them in the back of the truck before Karla headed up the truck-decorating committee. Brittany and I had the job of keeping Blair occupied and oblivious of what was happening to his truck. My mama and mama Cindy handed out the bubble tubes to everyone. When the truck was ready, the band announced our farewell. Everyone gathered outside and showered us with bubbles as Blair helped me into the truck… more like, he helped my dress into the truck. I blew kisses, got noggin from my niece, hugged Karla and then we were off. It was wonderful to finally be going home with my husband. We didn’t have to be in Charleston for our cruise until Wednesday, so we didn’t have to rush to get anywhere. We got home, got into pajamas, unwrapped our gifts and he made me eat some leftover pasta from the night before. We were home and we were married. It was a glorious day.

Update

So I was doing okay for a few weeks there... and then life got busy and we moved into a house that doesn't yet have internet, so I haven't been able to update. So this is what's up.I finished my student teaching on April 19th. During planning that day, the teachers in the 7th grade threw Jessica (the other student teacher in 7th grade) and I a surprise lunch party thingy. If you are a teacher, you know how these things go! Of course, I ate during lunch with the kids because I didn't pick up on my teacher's hint not to eat, but that didn't stop me from eating some delicious goodies that the teachers made and brought! My favorite, other than the cupcakes, was the veggie pizza! It was the Pilsbury Crescent rolls with cream cheese/ranch dressing sauce covered with ... you guessed it, veggies! Light and delectable! And then, we got gifties! A couple of moms and the teachers chipped in and got Jessica and I each our own huge tote bags filled with teacher supplies.

One of my favorite supplies was a 12 pack of Yoo-Hoo!! That's right. Yoo-Hoo. Why did my teacher include that? Because they sell bottles of Y-H in 4-packs in the marketplace on UNCG's campus and I kept that stuff stocked in my fridge. I don't get up early enough to eat breakfast, so I'd grab a Y-H and maybe a Pop-Tart and go into school, chugging my delicious chocolate drink (it's not milk... more like chocolate flavored water... and I'm okay with that!). Many of my students would ridicule me... some of them would ask me to bring them a Y-H. But I guess it became something that identified me as me. I'm not complaining!!The students also wrote me goodbye letters. Many of them were really good. Some of them made me laugh. Actually, a lot of them made me laugh. I had really good students this year. I'm just glad none of them said, "Thank you for leaving!" Hahaha

On April 29, my mama and daddy came to help me move out of my dorm. That was pretty cool. It went a LOT faster than when I moved myself in!! Then, I went to a cookout for the middle grades team to celebrate the completion of our student teaching and upcoming graduation. It was a good time! My best friend in the program, Matt Meckley, told everyone that it would also double as a wedding shower for me. He had a nice little speech to start it. He said that we were all about to graduate and make a big step in our lives, but "one of us will soon be taking another big leap in her life." He said, "she took part in the other celebrations, but was quiet about her own big news, so I thought we should take this time to celebrate with her and show her that we love her." It was sooo sweet! He and one of our instructors had schemed against me to make sure that my favorite kind of cake was there. He sent me a text one day, asking me what it was because he was making his girlfriend a cake. I'm so dumb to subtleties sometimes. It's so not Matt to just up and make a cake. But I didn't think anything of it until Cassi pointed out that there was a big yellow cake with chocolate frosting there! It had to have been one of the best cakes I have ever had the pleasure of eating. I don't have any pictures from that, but it was a really good time. It was the last time we all got to hang out before graduation. These were people I have been close to, up late with, writing papers and lesson plans with, and through hell with for the past two years. They understand what I'm talking about when I start my School-Talk. They understand standards and pacing and classroom management and license and school districts and "they're cutting [blank number of] teaching positions so there is no guarantee that you all will have jobs by August." Five years ago, schools were begging people to become teachers. Now, we almost have to PAY to be teachers. Hopefully, I'll have a job soon. (I will most likely update when I get some good news!!)

What's next? April 30. My mama and one of our close family friends threw me a bridal shower! I don't have any pictures on my laptop, which I'm on now. And there aren't any on Facebook that I can steal (I just got distracted on Fb for about twenty minutes not finding any to post here). When I go to my parents', I'll post some!! Anyway, it was a lot of fun. My parents and both Tony and Deanna helped put together a Wheel of Fortune game! It was probably my favorite part! If you didn't know, I'm a Wheel of Fortune dork and it pains me horribly that I've never been on that show. I just think it's fun! Sometimes, people are amazed when I can solve a puzzle with just a few letters up, and I say, "I'm an English person, I love words!!" I was Vanna White and my mama was Pat Sajak. It was sooooo much fun!

On May 1, some of my favorite girls from church threw me another shower!! The first week of April, I didn't know of any showers being planned for me. That weekend, I had THREE!!! It was beautiful! Brooke, Christy, Tera, Beverly and Fran did a wonderful job of decorating and organizing! Check out Brooke's blog for pictures. It was a great day, made even better when my best friend, Karla, walked in. She left Syracuse, New York the day before and made it in time for the shower.

She totally made my day a little brighter!!

Moving right along... May 6. On my grand-daddy's birthday, I graduated and finally closed the door on my six-year college career. A proud day in the Wilson family... First to graduate college!! I was all good and thinking, "Oh, it's just another graduation, nothing to get all in a tiff about." But when they finally called up Middle Grades (we were next to last, of course!), and we all stood (and finally concealing the fact that my teammates can't count and the team behind me started down the next row before we realized that I was left without a chair - so an usher brought me a chair and I was the oddball sticking out of the nicely organized rows of chairs!!)... Where was I?? Oh. When they called our team, we all stood up and began walking toward the stage. It hit me. I'm graduating college!!!! I was shaking as I walked across the stage, but not too much that I couldn't pump my fist by my side after shaking the Chancellor's hand and getting my diploma cover. Yes!!! It was a wonderful day! Here I am with my school best friend, Matt.

May 7, there was a bachelorette party!! We rented a hotel room in Apex, Karla brought a bunch of snacks, made my favorite cupcakes and brought manicure stuff. It was just me, Karla, Anna (my two MoHs), Brittany and Rachel (little sister/bridesmaid and her friend). We had SOOO much fun. We went to TGIFridays for dinner... hilarity ensued! Then, we stopped by Redbox and Dunkin Donuts for milkshakes. We got back to the hotel, painted nails, enjoyed ice cream and more cupcakes, and watched a couple of movies. It was a great night, just what I needed!

May 14, Blair and I went to a wedding for a couple of friends. It was an outdoor wedding with good food and good music. It rained and we saw a little bit of lightening, but that didn't hold back the party for too long. It was also really cool to tell people that we would be getting married in just a week!

The happy couple, Richard and Jennifer, dancing back down the aisle!

And now, the day you've all been waiting for... May 21 - the day I married my best friend!! Stay tuned for another blog dedicated 100% to our wonderful wedding! I have many pictures and a lot to say about it!! Thanks for reading my long-winded, late-night/early-morning rant of an update. I understand if I were better at keeping this up, I wouldn't have to write long updates. But you know how I am... and the lack of internet at our house doesn't help matters. We'll work on it!