Meet Svetlana

Receiving spam in my personal e-mail account seems like a common occurrence.  However, receiving spam in my school account does not usually happen.  On Tuesday, I opened up an e-mail with the title, "I'm waiting for your reply."  Uh-oh, I thought.  Did I forget to respond to a parent or to an authority figure?  As I opened the correspondence, though, I felt a bit of confusion.  I have indicated my internal responses in italics.  Dear bobbie.serensky. You need to learn to capitalize. How are you? Confused.  I hope my letter finds you in a good mood.  Why? What do you have planned for me? I liked your profile and I would like to continue our communication.  What profile?  What communication?  I do not even know your identity!  Please, tell me a few words about you.  Confused, busy, tired. How do you usually spend your free time? Reading weird e-mails like this.  Do you like animals?  Actually, I have severe allergies to most animals.  Thanks for asking.  I guess? I would like to meet a reliable and kind man.  So would I!  But...why do you find it necessary to share this with me?  I want to trust him.  (Giggling to myself, but beginning to feel uneasy.)  Um, okay.  I want to create a big and loving family.  How does this have anything to do with ME?  It seems to me, that you can become my man. Hold on.  What?!  I see something particular in you.  You do?  I do not even know you!  Where, exactly, do you "see" me?  You know, it is like an invisible thread, connecting us.  I do not think you can feel this with any certainty.  I do not know you, and, more importantly, you obviously do not know my gender.  I really hope, that you feel the same, dear!  I.  Do.  Not.  In fact, I feel really awkward right now.  This whole note seems creepily personal, yet way off the mark.  Sincerely yours, Svetlana.  I do not know you, Svetlana.  Why do you think that you know me?  What a strange e-mail to receive!  I kept wracking my brain to figure out how I got this e-mail.  What new contact had I made in the course of the past week? And then it occurred to me this afternoon--I know Svetlana!  Blogger employs her as the voice behind the letter and number decoder.

Rebel Without a Cause

After reading this week's blog entries, I decided to morph three recurring topics: your interest in my non-professional life, the choices I have made in my past, and my perceptions of my students.  As a sophomore in high school--a stellar student and a star member of the band--I had never broken one school rule.  However, one fateful night, I decided to skip a mandatory band function: the Homecoming bonfire.  For some reason, this time I decided to take a stand.  This time, my best friend and I would NOT grace the band with our presence.  This time, from this fateful day forward, everyone would remember me as "The Rebel."  I meant business.  While I cannot recall what exact "business" I sought to accomplish, I did accomplish landing my first (and last) detention. While I revelled in my newfound gangsta persona, I had not considered the consequences.  You see, at my high school, the front office announced the daily detention list on the intercom system for the entire school to hear.  So, the morning following the bonfire, the morning after my trombone-free, confetti-fraught festivities at a roaring fire where I led cheer after cheer, the principal announced my name and my best friend's name on the detention list.  Yes, just our two names.  As I sat in chemistry class, I felt my face redden.  I heard my best friend groan behind me.  I felt the scrutinizing eyes of my teacher and my classmates.  And then, the worst that could happen, did.  My long-time crush, my lab partner at the time, blurted out: "What the heck did you two do wrong?!" I sank down into my seat, speechless, until my teacher asked, "Well, Serensky? What happened?"  Silence.  Longer silence.  And then, begrudgingly, I choked out, "I skipped band last night."  Oh, the roaring laughter!  Oh, the relentless mockery!  For the rest of my high school career, I repeatedly suffered the lampoons regarding my foolish decision to snub my band duties.  And, while I thought I would earn the moniker, "The Rebel," instead, the incident only intensified my true moniker, "The Nerd."  In addition to the stings of comments from all ages of high school students throughout the day, my best friend had more information to share with me after school.  "Bobbie, the band director called me into her office.  She said I need to steer clear of bad apples.  She means you."  So, my dear students, from this horrifying stroll down memory lane, you will understand my desire to keep you off the streets and out of trouble.  Even the greatest rebellions never go as we plan them; instead, they mark our reputation with humiliating stigmas.

D.J. ______________

As much as I hate to admit a weakness that needs fixing, I will swallow my pride and divulge one that I currently face.  I find "Bobbie's Blog Banter" a bit unsatisfying lately.  The atmosphere of the room does not yield as much excitement and energy as I would like.  In fact, I notice only staring, either straight ahead or at one's desk, when the music plays; I notice the paltry golf-claps for the guests.  Overall, I sense a lack of enthusiasm during the show which I would like to ameliorate.  As luck would have it, yesterday at the gym, The Ellen Show graced the television in front of my treadmill.  At that moment, an epiphany occurred:  "Ah-Ha!  I need a D.J.!"  Perhaps a more normal, down-to-earth, grounded person would scoff at this idea.  After all, what teacher truly needs a D.J. in order to present interesting ideas from student work?  Luckily, I possess none of the aforementioned qualities; in fact, I enjoy going overboard in order to entertain! Realizing that I need help on my show led me to the conclusion that it can only come from one source:  YOU!  Each week, I will choose my guest D.J.  Applications will follow these specifications:  1.)  It must come in the form of a blog comment on my blog post that week.   2.)  You must submit your entry by midnight on Thursday.  3.) You must submit three words, with the punctuation of your choice that will convince me to choose you.  I will NOT consider entries with more or less than three words.  Ultimately, I will choose one D.J. per class period.  This person will receive the secret theme of that week's blog show.  She/he will then choose an appropriate song for the show that she/he will play for the class.  In this way, I hope to heighten the energy level of my... I mean, our, show. 

I Will Never Let Go

Christmas evening, 1997.  Austintown, Ohio.  With my two best female friends to my right, my two best male friends to my left, and a giant bucket of popcorn on my lap for all of us to share (annoying idea), I waited in eager anticipation for the film of a lifetime:  Titanic.  Little did I know the transformative impact this movie would have on my life.  I suppose that my acutely painful dry eyes throughout the film from lack of blinking in fear of missing a crucial image proved the movie's power over me.  Moreover, though, my gasping and gushing which prompted annoyed nudges to my midsection indicated my overwhelming love of this film.  But most importantly, that night I fell in love with Leonardo DiCaprio.  How much love did I feel for him that fateful Christmas night?  Enough to cause endless sobs leaving me in a heap in the theater's restroom after the film's conclusion.  Enough for me to emphatically repeat, "She said she would never let go.  But she did!  She.  Let.  Go!"  Enough to cause sustained silence on the drive home, even with all of my friends reminding me:  "We knew the ship would sink! Stop sulking!"  My constant questioning of the death of Leo's character continues on, even to this day, fifteen (what?!) years later. Unlike Kate Winslet, I will never let go.  In fact, just this past spring, I organized a weekend-long Titanic 100-year-anniversary tribute in which we participated in a Titanic-themed anniversary dinner at a local restaurant, complete with the music the quartet played on the ship that night and the food the chefs served for dinner.  The next evening we found ourselves in front of the big screen again, and again I smiled from ear-to-ear with Leo on the screen.  Until that Winslet lady let him go. I ask, why did she not hoist him up onto her wooden raft?  So uncool.  At any rate, since that weekend last spring, I have not seen Leo much--until I played The Great Gatsby trailer in class on Monday.  And when his face first appeared, that same old feeling came back, which I can only describe as akin to going over the hill of a roller coaster.  What euphoria!  Have I watched the movie trailer since then?  You bet!  Do I see Leo in my mind's eye when I read the novel?  I sure do!  Have I downloaded the two songs from the soundtrack that the trailer features?  Of course!  Do I feel bad about any of this?  Not at all!  Part of the fun of living lies in embracing our passions.  One of my passions just happens to stem from a movie star whom I may likely meet on an airplane at some point in my life.  However, I will actually call the number he gives me instead of blurting out one random number from it in solitude just to comfort myself.

The Great Gatsby opens in theaters on May 10, 2013.
My "restlessness approaches hysteria."

 

Dusting off the Crystal Ball

To serve as the official guide to your current traits and predictions for your futures, I present you with "What Your Favorite Character in 'New Boy' Says About You."  If you chose Joseph, congratulate yourself on your intelligence, reserved nature, and compassion for others.  I predict that as an outsider to most cliques in college, you will successfully assimilate with troublemakers.  Most likely, this will land you in jail.  If you chose Miss, You admire weak authority figures, but treasure compassion.  You also find yourself increasingly using the word "Now."  I predict you will become a teacher of rambunctious children who rudely parrot the one word you turn to when in an anxious, panicked state.  This one word will serve as the only safeguard you can find to keep yourself from beating them.  If you chose Seth Quinn, Math Masters eludes you.  You scorn authority and often hang your head in shame because of your failures.  Prediction: unfavorable.  You better brush up on your study skills now before you fail out of college!  If you chose Christian Kelly, you enjoy ironic first names and rubbing snot onto unsuspecting victims.  Prediction: unfavorable.  While you may garner popularity from your unsavory antics, the cops will not find you humorous.  Jail time awaits!  If you chose Hazel O'Hara, you love intelligent, precocious, slightly bossy, sycophants.  Since your choice aligns with mine, I see much fame, fortune, and happiness in your future.  Good for you, smarty pants!  If you chose Pamela, you like sitting next to big girls and maps.  Also, you call yourself Kyle.  I predict that one day you will publish the how-to book: Cartography for Big-Boned Ladies.  If you chose Someone, you like the obscure, the ambiguous, the mysterious unsung hero.  I predict you will become the hero of the class when you make us a batch of cupcakes.  Our public praise of you will launch an endorsement for your new line of cupcakes: Fungcakes!

Bartering with Burglars

Ever since we discussed "The Second Bakery Attack" by Haruki Murakami, I find myself thinking about the McDonald's workers in the story.  You might remember them as the three people who do nothing.  I, however, remember them as three people who diligently seek to follow rules---especially the store manager, who at first explains the corporate policy of not closing a store before the official closing time.  He then pleads for the narrator and his cat burglar wife to take some money and go elsewhere with their hungry selves (7-8).  Maybe some readers would want more than a groveling manager and two dutiful underlings.  Maybe, perhaps, a stealthy manager who calls the police by pressing a secret button under the counter, or maybe an aggressive gun-toting manager who initiates the ultimate shoot down seems more appealing.  However, after reading "14 Ways to Get Fired from McDonald's" on Business Insider's website, the prospect of these choices from a rule-abiding McDonald's manager seem less likely than ever to yield positive results for him.  Take, for instance, Clifton Brown, a McDonald's employee from Indiana.  After an armed woman stole from the cash register, he shot at her as she ran away.  McDonald's fired him due to their no-gun policy.  In this case, he should have just given over the money, let the woman run away, and called the police.  No matter your views on gun control laws, the law of McDonald's trumps all.  That partially explains why the manager in Murakami's story shows so much fear in the face of disobeying McDonald's laws.  He would rather barter with burglars than endure unemployment.  At any rate, I notice that every time I drive by a McDonald's, I think about these people from Murakami's story.  I think about how hungry they feel, how the wife shows herself as a master thief, and how afraid the manager behaves; but mostly, I think about how disgusting the prospect of eating THIRTY Big Macs seems. 

Sidenote:  You should check out the aforementioned article.  I think you would find it interesting!

Countdown to Funtown!

In order to prepare for AP English 12, bring the following to class on the first day of school:

1.  A new journal (composition book/non-spiral).  Choose a cover that will make you smile and inspire you to write.

2.  A new AP English binder.  Clean out your old, haggard binder and transfer your GUIDE SHEETS and any USEFUL NOTES from AP 11.  If you already had some ceremonial bonfire during a false sense of freedom, I suggest you find a more dedicated student and make photocopies from him/her.

3.  Print out your blog posts AND all of the comments to them for your June and July book.  If copying them to Word documents provides an easier route, you can certainly take that route.  Just print them out and bring them to class.

4.  Your (hopefully) award-winning 4 x 6 photograph of you reading one of your books this summer.

5.  The June book and the July book you chose to read.

6.  A hopeful and positive attitude.  Just think of how much more intelligent you will become in the next year!  Plus, think about how all of your blues will fade away once you see me again...


Feel free to post any questions here, and I will answer them. 

Summer Fun!

My enjoyment during this round of blog entries came in the form of the depth and liveliness of your posts.  Continue to fully explain your thoughts as well as the purposes of your examples.  Making connections to our world and to your lives also added an interesting dimension to much of what you wrote.

Overall, many of you still seem to struggle with the verbage.  NO SIMPLE VERBS in the posts or the comments.  These include: is, are, am, was, were, be, being, been.  Use PRESENT TENSE when you discuss the novel's events.  For instance, "The main character thinks back to a time when she uncovers the meaning of life."  Notice how I use all present tense, even when the character thinks about the past.  Fixing these issues will not only enhance your blog grades, but will also make your life much easier once school starts and we move full steam ahead.

Next up: Olive Kitteridge!  To give you some context, each chapter reads like its own short story.  However, the main characters appear in each one of them.  This means you need to analyze each chapter on its own, and you need to work on how and why the author ties all of the chapters together for a full-length novel.  Keep this in mind as you read and annotate.  We will go into much more depth with this book, as we will study it in its entirety once school commences.  Also, please note that you must complete all blog work on this novel by August 23.

Please check back next week for another inspiring blog post which will detail what you need to bring with you for the onset of your senior year.

Continue to enjoy your summer and to bask in the glory that you have me to keep you from letting your brain rot!

Oh, Happy Day!

With great pleasure and swelling pride, I would like to congratulate both AP 11 and AP 12 for 100% passage rates on their AP Exams!  Good for you! 

See, I told you the oppressive nature of my magical powers would pay off. 

I, Robot

Most people might guess partial loss of eyesight or dull headache as possible outcomes for a person who has to grade 120 paragraphs and 120 comments.  Clearly, these people have not used Blogger, a site on which a person must prove her humanity in order to contribute comments to her students.

Forty times Blogger prompted me, "Please prove you're not a robot."  Forty times my stomach clenched.  Forty times my eyes squinted to correctly determine the strings of numbers and letters.  And with great pride, I can say to you that thirty-eight of those forty times, I proved myself human.

But as we all know, in the world of English instruction, I fill the role of superhuman.  So, I offer to you my insights on your work thus far, along with some guidance in terms of how to enhance future posts.

1.  I wrote a comment to each of you.  Please read that comment.  If you have items to improve upon, I have noted them for you.

2.  Punctuate titles of novels correctly.  (Can you sense my annoyance?)

3.  Subscribe to all of your classmates' blogs.  Not all of you have done this yet.  The next time I read through your blogs, you will have remedied this.  Two classmates had to change their URL's:  Abby Weber = abigailweber. blogspot.com  and Katie Schmiedicker = kateschmiedicker.blogspot.com.

4.  Overall, I find the development of your paragraphs satisfactory.  You need to work on verbs.  You must use strong verbs in your titles, your entries, and your comments.  This means no passive voice or simple verbs.  I did not come down as hard on this issue during the June entries.  That changes in July.

Also, you must remember that we now study fiction.  That changes things a bit, verb-wise.  ALWAYS USE PRESENT TENSE VERBS.  Information about the larger occasion, the author, or yourself stand as the only exceptions to this rule.  This news should make your life easier.  Again, I did not come down as hard on this issue during the June entries.  That changes in July.

5.  I enjoyed reading your thoughts on your books!  Please make sure you annotate each book thoroughly.  Some of you would also serve yourselves well to PROOFREAD a couple of times before you publish your entries.

6.  Continue to enjoy your summer!  I look forward to the next batch of writing.... except for the robot stuff.

Oh, and my apologies to readers of Crooked Letter, Crooked Letter, who apparently cried themselves to sleep each night.

Welcome to the AP English Blogosphere!

Blog URL’s

AP English 12

Directions.  Sign up as a follower of each person’s blog.  Use “.blogspot.com” to complete each URL.

Period 4—AP English 11

Shannon Clegg:  shannonfclegg

Elliot Corrigan-Chaillet: elliotcorriganxoxo

Gabe Jerome:  gabrielzjerome

Meghan Judge:  meghanjudge

Claire Kampman:  clairekampman

Alyssa Marquette:  alyssamarquette

Alie Medina-Fetterman:  aliemedina-fetterman

Emily Morgan:  emilypaigemorgan

Bradley Munday:  bradleymunday

Andrew Osgood:  andrewosgood

Annie Schiferl:  annieschiferl

Derek Stevenson:  djstevenson44

Hannah Thombs:  hannahthombs

Abby Weber:  abbyweber

Katie Widman:  katiewidman

Period 5—AP English 11

Claire Barcelo:  clairebarcelo

Celene Gielink:  celenegielink

Kate Girouard:  kategirouard

Katherine Kampf:  katherinekampf

Alex King:  alexthomasking

Lauren Lang:  laurenelang

Melanie Larson:  melanielarson13

Katie McCormack:  katiemccormack

Anna McCuaig:  annamccuaig

Ana Moran: anastasiamoran

Catherine Samuel: catherinesamuel13

Jessica Walker:  jessicatwalker247

Libby Williams: elizabethlwilliams

Julianne Zala:  juliannezala

Period 7—AP English 11

Becky Black: beckyblack13

Rachel Clemens:  rachelclemens

Ashlyn Flaherty: ashlynflaherty9

Shannon Fung:  Shannon-fung

Will Hinman: willhinman

Kate Mackin:  katemackin13

Mairin Magnuson:  mairinmagnuson

Katie Schmiedicker:  katieschmiedicker

Victoria Sevich: victoriasevich

Adam Shoemaker:  adamshoemaker

Megan Stricker:  meganstricker1

Blythe Tokar: 

Kyle Weber:  kylejweber

Anna Witkin: annawitkin

Thirty-One Thrills

I would like to highlight my favorite moment for each one if you.  See if you can figure out which moment applies to you!

1.        I loved the look on your face the first time you got a sticker on one of your papers.

2.       I loved the moment when you realized that I find you quite humorous.

3.       I loved every time you shook your head in disagreement when I would say that my students hate me.

4.       I loved the moment when you finally got a 9 on a paper, but acted completely cool about it.

5.       I loved the moment when you looked at me during discussion because we both wanted to make fun of the person currently speaking.

6.       I loved when you could finally look at me and smile as we passed in the hallway, instead of pretending that you never saw me.

7.       I loved the moment when you read one of the poems you wrote and felt so proud of yourself.

8.       I loved when you confidently shared your beliefs, and all of us became better people because of you.

9.       I loved the moment when you told me that you remembered that you always wanted to become a writer.

10.    I loved the moment when you gracefully accepted your position as lackey.

11.      I loved the moment when I realized how much you actually appreciate all of the people in your class for what they have added to your life.

12.     I loved the moment when you told me that you now love writing, and you want to keep writing after high school.

13.     I loved the class period when you made everyone laugh repeatedly because of your funny voices.

14.    I loved when you realized you could withstand my harassment and become a stronger person for it.

15.     I loved the moments when you said, “Thank you! Have a nice day!” every time you left my room.

16.     I loved the moments when you would speak, but everyone would look at me since none of them could hear you.

17.     I loved when you tripped in the center of the room, and you laughed along with me.

18.     I loved when you told me that you love my sweater dress; I admire your fashion sense.

19.    I loved your funny e-mails from all of your fabulous trips.

20.   I loved the moment when I saw you switch from healthy snacks to a candy extravaganza.

21.     I loved when you put your beard on during an in-class writing, and nobody seemed to notice but me and your startled writing partner.

22.    I loved that you always find the energy to fix the circle and to pass out the journals when no one else will.

23.    I loved the moment when I passed you in the hallway, and sensing my disgruntled state, you said something funny to make me laugh.

24.   I loved the moment when you realized you could actually assert yourself without seeming rude.

25.    I loved when you said to me, “I feel like I have really starting loving this class!”

26.    I loved that you would always laugh at my jokes when everyone else just stared at me.

27.    I loved the moment when you sweated profusely, but still kept the costume on for the sake of your grade.

28.    I loved the moment when I sat in a desk behind you, and neither one of us could stop giggling about the people reading their poems.

29.   I loved the moments when you would come in to school early so that we could chat.

30.   I loved how much you loved all of your writing partners.

31.     I loved how excited you got whenever people brought food and candy to share with the class.

Dangerously Cool in the Safest Way Possible

What if I started a motorcycle club?  Note: I use “club” as a code word for “gang.”  Even though I use the mantra, “Safety first!” in my role as Aunt Bobbie, and, truthfully, in every other role in my life, I have a profound desire to lead a motorcycle club.  However, I would only agree to function as the leader.  I would not want to involve myself in illegal activities or fast-paced street racing.  I would not want to engage in any turf wars, gun fights, or hand-to-hand combat.  Mainly, I want to adorn myself in the gang’s vest and drive a shiny, deep red trike with a sidecar for the Vice President, all of which would signify my role as The President of the club. No one could match my coolness! … Except perhaps the cast of Sons of Anarchy, a show I love.

I need ideas, though.  What should I use as my gang’s name?  What would the members of the gang use as my nickname?  The first five people to offer suggestions for both in the comments section of this blog entry will receive bonus points on their blog grade for this quarter. 

My new ride!

Bobbie Can Bake.

Ahhh, food.  My friend.  And my nemesis.  While I do love food in such a way, I even more so enjoy making food for others.  I believe that this stems from the fact that I tire from cooking only for myself, as too many leftovers remain, and, quite frankly, even I have a limit of how much I can compliment myself on a job well done.

Spring Break gave me the perfect opportunity to cook for my best friend in Charlotte, who graciously welcomed me into her home for a week.  Truthfully, she really got the sweet end of the bargain:  my days relaxing while she worked also included me tending to the daily chores and cooking dinners and treats.  Pretty much, for a week she had a personal handmaiden/chef.

While this may not define your idea of a relaxing Spring Break, I loved it!  I got to try out some new recipes in a stress-free environment and then serve them to my friends.  As a special treat to all of you, I will share the best recipe that I tested out over Spring Break:  Rolo Stuffed Chocolate Chip Cookies.

Enjoy!  And you can thank me later by giving me a cookie from the batch you make!

Rolo Stuffed Chocolate Chip Cookies

Chocolate Chip cookie with a Rolo in the middle..so very sinfully good.

Ingredients

	Ingredients
1½	cups unsalted butter; softened
1	cup granulated sugar
1	cup packed brown sugar
1	tablespoon vanilla
2	eggs
3¾	cup all-purpose flour
2	teaspoons baking soda
1	teaspoon kosher salt
2	cups semisweet chocolate chips
¾	cup chopped pecans, optional
50	Rolos; frozen at least 2 hours

Directions

1. Heat oven to 350°F. In large bowl, beat butter, sugars, vanilla and eggs with electric mixer on medium speed or with spoon until light and fluffy. Mix in flour, baking soda and salt. Mix in chocolate chips and pecans.
2. Measure dough using a medium cookie scoop (about 1.5 tablespoons). Roll into a ball and then flatten in the palm of your hands.
3. Place a frozen Rolo in the centers of the flattened dough balls and form dough back into a ball around the Rolo.
4. Place Rolo stuffed dough balls into the freezer for 15-20 minutes before baking.
5. On cookie sheet lined with parchment paper or a silicone baking mat, place dough balls 2 inches apart.
6. Bake 11 to 13 minutes or until light brown (centers will be soft). Cool 2 minutes; remove from cookie sheet to cooling rack.

Bobbie Blueberry

          I can think of no other television character I identify with more than Liz Lemon from NBC’s 30 Rock.  Each week, I find myself laughing uproariously at the ways my life mirrors hers, and then shaking my head in frightened bewilderment at those strange similarities.  My best friend often sends me texts that say, “Do you secretly write for this show?”

          So, this week I share with you My Top Ten Liz Lemon Moments.

Number Ten

Liz Lemon: I have had three doughnuts so far today. Here's one: when I was a kid, I used to put on my fanciest nightgown and then I would mix orange soda and cream soda in a champagne glass and I would sit in the dark and watch The Love Boat.  And I lied. I have had five doughnuts today.

Bobbie Blueberry: Maybe I overeat sometimes.  Maybe sometimes I delude myself into thinking I have eaten less than I actually have.  And maybe, just maybe, to feel as fancy as the people on television, I used to concoct nonalcoholic drinks to look like alcoholic drinks and put them in crystal glasses.  One thing for certain, though:  I totally loved The Love Boat.

Number Nine

Liz Lemon: No. I have bigger things to worry about than my personal life.
Jack: I would think that the single woman's biggest worry would be choking to death in her apartment.

Bobbie Blueberry: Dying alone in my apartment from any factor serves as a real fear in my life.  How long would it take for someone to realize my eternal absence?  Hopefully the cleanliness of my apartment will detract from the stench of my corpse.

Number Eight

Liz Lemon: Nope, do not put a hyphen in YouFace. There are definitely faces here, but they are not being treated with respect.

Bobbie Blueberry: I, too, think about the effects of punctuation usage!  I think about that usage in all forms of my writing.  These rules still apply to text messaging and social networking communities. 

Number Seven

Liz Lemon: You know what I hear? It's the hug plane, and it's coming in for a landing.

Bobbie Blueberry: Although I have never said these words, I plan to soon.  I find that my niece will especially love this.  Recently, I told her to give Aunt Bobbie some sugar (shugga).  She looked at me, and in a deadpan voice, replied, “No, thank you.”  But guess what?  No one can stop the hug plane!

Number Six

Jenna Maroney: How's it going?
Liz Lemon: Terrible. I just want to go home and watch that show about midgets and eat a block of cheese.

Bobbie Blueberry: Politically incorrect?  Yes.  Despicable.  Maybe.  I have had this conversation on more than one occasion.  Perhaps, though, I often substitute “a whole pizza” for “a block of cheese.”

Number Five

Liz Lemon: I've been stuck inside playing online Boggle. It's messing with my head. STAR... RATS... ARTS... TARS.
Bobbie Blueberry: I had to stop playing Word Warp on my phone.  Every day at school, I would walk down the hallway and warp words from locker signs.  It definitely messed with my head.  It felt like entering some weird parallel world after I turned over a really heavy rock. 

Number Four

Liz Lemon: You can try to change New York, but it’s like Jay-Z says: “Concrete bunghole, where dreams are made up. There’s nothing you can do.”

Bobbie Blueberry: Who hasn’t mixed up song lyrics?  “Message in a Brothel” instead of “Message in a Bottle,” perhaps.  Nowadays, though, lyrics.com can curtail that problem.

Number Three

Jack Donaghy: In a post-apocalyptic society, what possible use would they have for you?
Liz Lemon: Travelling bard.

Bobbie Blueberry: “A tribal poet-singer skilled in composing and reciting verses on heroes and their deeds?”  Sign me up!  I bet I could also choreograph dances to my verses.  I doubt I could deal with all the fame, though.

Number Two

Liz Lemon:  I didn't come here to make friends! I came here to be number one!

Bobbie Blueberry: The voice in my head says this more often than I would outwardly shout it—except when I play Trouble with my best friend.  On numerous occasions, I have screamed this sentiment at her when she says something ridiculous like, “Why do you always have to be the best?  Why can’t we just play a board game like two normal friends having fun?”  Normal?  In the words of my niece, “No, thank you.”

Number One

Liz Lemon:  Where does Liz Lemon go for a night on the town?  The Barnes and Noble bathroom, of course!

Bobbie Blueberry: I love Barnes and Noble!  While I do not tend to spend much time in its bathroom, I do find the store a nice place to relax.  What better way to spend an evening out?

Dancing Queen

(In the form of an “I Remember” poem.)

I remember the euphoria I felt from listening to Cyndi Lauper sing “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun.”

I remember asking my two friends to come to my house so we could choreograph a dance to it.

I remember lining us up, single file, on the broken concrete of the driveway and blasting the song repeatedly, until we reached perfect synchronicity.

I remember looking up and seeing the smiling faces of my parents peering from the kitchen window in amusement, and maybe even, perhaps, shock.

I remember my fifth-grade self feeling totally amazing after successfully directing the three of us into an awe-inspiring dance.

I remember walking up to the desk of our notorious social studies teacher, Mrs. Kreka, and confidently asking her if we could perform this dance for our class.

I remember our three moms making chocolate chip cookies and red punch for our classmates.

I remember daydreaming about the all-consuming love the young boy in the third row would feel for me after we performed our dance.

I remember the aqua skirt and the bright pink shirt I wore that day.

I remember seeing this moment as the best moment of my life.

I remember thinking, years later, “What would ever possess me to do that?”

No Place Like Home

I spent my late teens and my twenties disconnecting myself with my hometown, and my high school in particular.  I believed that those who chose to remain in that place and to attend functions there suffered a stigma so great that their social lives could never recover from it.  While I do believe that leaving the “nest” allows for much more personal growth than staying can, I experienced a completely different feeling this past weekend.  On Friday night, I attended a high school basketball game (because my brother coaches and because we played our rival) in the school district’s brand new school.  This year, the entire district moved into one large building that houses K-12 and stands directly in front of the building in which I attended high school.  Throughout the duration of the game, one thought pervaded my mind:  “This does not feel right.”  This gym had no echoes of my former self, this gym housed no memories of some of the best years of my life, this gym had no connection to me—and I did not like that.

On Sunday, I ventured back to the school’s campus for a benefit dinner: a young girl in the community has cancer, and so the town organized a dinner and Chinese auction.  This time, though, I found myself back in the old building (I guess they did not want spaghetti sauce in the new school).  The Chinese auction took place in my old study hall auditorium, I received my dinner in my old cafeteria, I ate my dinner in my old gym, and I showed my niece and nephews my old lockers.  In those spaces, I could feel my former self.  I could connect to that sense of place in a way that I so intently missed on Friday night.  While people at the dinner chatted, I gazed around my old gymnasium:  the place where I initiated many EXPERTLY-LED cheers in the crowds, where I once blared my trombone in the pep band, and where I watched my parents shake their heads at me in amused dismay.  As I watched the enormous amount of people coming together for a cause that actually matters, that actually stems beyond themselves, I finally realized my great fortune in growing up in a community that provides me with such an important sense of place, and also continues to do so for my family and many of my friends.  So while “running away” can have its own purpose, nothing feels better than coming home.

Also, enjoy this quote from one of my favorite films, The Wizard of Oz.

“But it wasn’t a dream. It was a place. And you and you and you… and you were there. But you couldn’t have been could you? No. Aunt Em, this was a real truly live place and I remember some of it wasn’t very nice, but most of it was beautiful; but just the same. All I kept saying to everybody was I want to go home and they sent me home! Doesn’t anybody believe me? But anyway, Toto, we’re home! Home. And this is my room and you’re all here and I’m not gonna leave here ever. Ever again. Because I love you all. And, oh Auntie Em! There’s no place like home!”

The Decision

          After reading and considering the songs you LOVE, it seems to me that you gravitate towards songs that connect to events, emotions, problems, and concerns you currently experience--which makes perfect sense.  In light of that, I chose to share a song that I never even considered until I heard it on the radio last night.  “Why Georgia” by John Mayer provides a look into life's uncertainties that you, me, and even our good friend, Kafka, can appreciate.

Either way I wonder sometimes

About the outcome

Of a still verdictless life

Am I living it right?

Am I living it right?

Am I living it right?

Why, why, Georgia, why?

          The most pressing question many of you face now deals with choosing a college and a career path.  Indeed, such stressful decisions can cause us to question the very meaning of our existence.  As you know, I chose to begin my education after high school at Youngstown State University, the very same place that I had stubbornly refused to consider during my high school career.  But what you may not know includes my belief that going to a school close to home would make me look like a loser and lead to a depressing life of squalor.  While I know that seems dramatic, after hearing my journal entries as a senior, you can see how it fits with my mindset back then.   

          So, why did I make that choice?  A full-ride scholarship seemed too hard to pass up.  I spent many nights painstakingly making my final decision:  I begged my parents to tell me what to do, but they would not.  The stress of making my first adult decision overwhelmed me, so I can empathize with many of you who find yourselves in that same position.

          Since then, though, I do not question or begrudge my decision.  That decision led me on the path to teach in Charlotte, to attend Bread Loaf, to graduate in Oxford, and to have the pleasure of teaching you.  In my eyes, all of those outcomes happened for a multitude of reasons.  Those outcomes aside, what Mayer relays in his repeated rhetorical questions seems to me the constant need to reflect on one’s decisions:  to make a conscious effort to make the most of our choices and to make the world a better place for ourselves and others.  To me, having that sort of fulfillment trumps any amount of prestige a degree from a certain university could bring or the money a profession could yield. My hope for you: choose a path that you truly enjoy because your talents and enjoyment lie there.  In this way, even though you may wonder about “the outcome/Of a still verdictless life,” you will still enjoy happiness along the way.  Mayer indirectly characterizes this life of unease as unavoidable; even though I agree, I also believe that by doing what you truly love, you can lessen some of this anxiety. 

          Ultimately, you will spend most of your adult life at work, and nothing seems more tragic to me than choosing a path that you do not base on the aforementioned factors.  Some days will present more struggles, some days might make you question your choice, but if you can feel proud of what you do and afford to live a comfortable life, nothing will bring you more satisfaction.  Just look at me:  I get to talk to cool people about books every day AND host my own show!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zs8dsERsal8