In February, my mom and I went on a cruise. It was 4 days which, to me, was the perfect mini-vacation. We visited Catalina Island and, my favorite port, Ensenada. The weather was beautiful and a perfect escape from the (sorta) winter in Utah. The trip only reinforced how crazy and spontaneous my mom is. She talked to every person wearing BYU or ASU paraphernalia on the ship, and she picked up forgotten pennies, even though they rested below a particularly corpulent man sitting on a rickety bench. My mom's got class, and I love her.
|Catalina Island — This picture is so perfect; it belongs on a postcard.|
|La Bufadora ~ Ensenada, Mexico|
I taught freshman composition at Snow College... talk about a "big girl" job! I really feel like English is my jam — I know what I'm doing, I know how to write, and I feel confident while teaching. My degree, however, didn't prepare me for unexpected things I would face in class. I got asked to dinner... twice. I had students bawl their eyes out in my office, so I gave them napkins because I didn't buy tissues. I graded essays dealing with hangovers, constipation, gout, and cheating spouses. Needless to say, the experience was interesting, but I loved it and learned so much.
Now, I am attending BYU for grad school. That's right... grad school. I say those words in my head and still shudder because I constantly think that I'm in way over my head. My lit. class is small, and my fellow colleagues are either pregnant, happily married, or engaged. And then there's me... single and happily sporting a hand that's bereft of a ring. I think it's weird. We have so much reading to do for class, and sometimes, I feel like I'm drowning. But I think that I'm excited to be back in school. I enjoy school. I know how it works. I'm good at it. Until that Masters in English Lit. is mine, I suppose I'll just keep on keeping on!
(I felt like signing off was necessary. Who knows when I'll write next.)