First, Outside, Inside, Last?

I'm working at Ivy Tech this summer as a writing tutor and a monitor at the Learning Resource Center. Because it's the summer semester, there is hardly anyone around to ask for writing assistance. This means that my main responsibility is to monitor the LRC. I have to do things like receive faxes from a machine I don't know how to work, give students directions to classrooms I've never seen, replace toner on a copier I've never been trained to use, and handle phone calls on subjects which I know nothing about. So really, as you might have guessed, my job boils down to the following phrase: "Um.. could you come back tomorrow between the hours of 8-5? Someone will be able to answer your question then." The rest of the time I watch youtube and write blogs and get paid pretty damn well to do it. I'm doing that right now as a matter of fact. Now, I'm a really good English tutor and I like doing it, but I suck at all this other stuff. I would feel bad about my inability to "monitor" the LRC except for the fact that no one has ever trained me how to do it. So, I just wing it. And because I do such exceptional work, I've been asked to take on more responsibilities.

Starting Thursday I'll be taking notes for a deaf woman here at the school. Her sister sits in on the class and signs to her while I write down the things that the teacher says. So basically she has a team of people working with her. And I think that's great. Opportunities for handicapped people have come such a long way. My only concern is why I have been chosen to do this job. I've never worked with disabled people in my life. I don't know all the PC things I have to do when I talk to her, I'm not sure if I say deaf or hearing impaired, I don't know anything. And I'm willing to bet there won't be any training. Now, I'm not one of those people who can't do anything without being told exactly how to do it, but I do need a little info sometimes. Oh, and here's the kicker. Guess what class I'm taking notes for? Math 131-Algebra and Trigonometry. If you know me at all, you'll be on the floor gaging with laughter. I am terrible at math. The only class I failed in college was math, and I think the math I took was easier than the stuff I'll be taking notes for. So I'm a little nervous. I keep telling myself, "Monica, it's okay. You're smart enough to recognize the important parts and write it down, even if you don't understand it." And that's true. I just have to write stuff down. It's not like I have to tutor her in the subject. I just which I had known what class I had signed on for before I said I would be a note taker. I haven't had a math class in three years, and I'm firmly convinced that the only reason why I passed that class was because I said a memorare right before the final. (Thank you, BVM!) All I remember from that class is FOIL. First, outside, inside, last! First, outside, inside, last! My plan is to just write FOIL down in the notes if I miss something. Actually, I'm going to try very hard to take the most comprehensive notes possible because I really do want to help this person, but I sure am nervous. Oh well, I guess I can add another line to my resume now. Sheesh. I'll let all of you know how it goes.

fitness plan, wedding anniversary, and wedding reception

I've been out of school now for a couple of weeks and can only say that I'm getting dumber and chubbier every minute I've been out. During the summer I usually commit myself to getting fit, but for some reason I just can't get myself to do it this time. I'm going to force myself to do Pilates tomorrow and then go to Jazzercise. I hope this will jump start my summer fitness program. All the graduation parties and my wedding anniversary these past couple of weeks have not done a thing for my waistline. As for the getting dumber thing, I'm not sure anything can save me. Just yesterday I had to ask David what the genitive singular personal pronoun was for 3rd person in Latin. It's "eius" by the way. But it was really disturbing because I have taught that very pronoun to people for the past two years. I predict that by the end of the summer I will only be able to read at Dr. Seuss level. Maybe that's not so bad. I mean, the guy's a doctor. I don't know what he got his PhD in. Perhaps it was rhyming. I've heard that Whoville University has a really competitive program in rhyme. Or maybe Dr. Seuss is actually a cardiac surgeon. I don't know. The point is that I'm getting stoopid. I don't think there is any help for my fitness or intellectual situation. Bummer.

I did mention in passing that David and I had our wedding anniversary recently. It was on the 20th to be precise. I woke up with a bit of an anniversary headache from a wedding and reception I went to the day before. (more on that later) It was nothing some Advil and Gatorade couldn't fix. Anyhow, we woke up and David made an anniversary smoothie while I made an anniversary cup of tea. Then we went to anniversary mass and came home and took an anniversary nap. Afterwards, we had an anniversary steak dinner, went anniversary bowling, and then watched an anniversary movie. And yes, we did refer to all of these things as our anniversary this and that. It got pretty funny by the end of the night. We even extended it to the next day when David and I went anniversary golfing with Peter. Being married is pretty fun for the most part, and I give my first year of marriage two thumbs up.

Now, on to the wedding from the night before. I went to a wedding of some people I hardly know because one of my friends asked me to be her guest. The wedding was at Blessed Sacrament, or what I've heard an Irishman call "Our Lady of the Mothership" for its interesting architecture that I guess resembles a flying saucer. Its not my favorite Catholic church in town but they do have a great devotion to St. Monica there. I'm not going to critique the wedding or anything, but I'll say that it was pretty "mod" and they didn't even have communion even though both people getting married were Catholic. Weird. Weird and fishy actually.

Anyhow, we only found out a couple of days before that the reception that we thought was going to have an open bar was really going to be as dry as one of those cow skulls you see out in the desert. That would be fine, but Kristin, Brett, Jocelyn, and I all wanted to dance. And being from the socio-econnomic and ethnic backgrounds that we are from, (white, middle class kids with Irish, Sweedish and Hungarian roots, respectively) we cannot dance without alcohol. So I borrowed David's three flasks, filled them with Bacardi, stuck them in my purse, put the rest of the booze in Kristin's trunk, and entered the reception. This was all with the bride's permission, by the way. Then we ordered our cokes, went to the bathroom, poured our alcohol in them and proceeded to get a healthy but modest buzz. Then the flasks ran out, so we decided to go out to the car to fill up again. This was our fatal flaw. We took our cokes outside, filled them up with booze and came back in. But before we could get back to the reception hall we were stopped by the EXCISE POLICE!!!!!!!!!!! The man showed us his badge and asked us if we had any alcohol in our drinks. By this time I was buzzing pretty hard, so I contemplated either drinking my rum and coke really fast and asking him "what drink?", or just flat out telling him "no." But more sober heads prevailed and Kristin told him "yes." So this jerk confiscates our drinks and lectures us about how the hotel could be fined and blah, blah, blah. I thought this was ridiculous because we could have stepped three feet to the right of the officer and gone to the hotel bar, had 20 beers, and walked right back into the reception hall if we wanted to. A couple of days later when I was telling this story to Mrs. Schafer, she asked me who the excise police were, and I told her that they were people who wanted to prevent other people from having fun at wedding receptions. And I still partly hold to that.

Anyhow, the rest of the reception was pretty boring because the DJs played really lame music. I asked one of the DJs to play "2 Legit 2 Quit" because my friend Kris was there and he and I have some history with Hammer. Well (and I'm not kidding) when I requested the song, the DJ gave me this look like, "we don't play that kind of music." And she was from Kentucky. If she had a problem with Hammer, I would have hated to see her face if I had had a lot to drink and requested "Push It" as I have at other receptions. Basically, that was my wedding reception/slash run-in with the cops experience.

Later on we did go to the hotel bar with the rest of the wedding party where I witnessed my debit card being stolen. I promptly walked up to the girl, looked at her with my debit card in her hand, took it out of her hand, said "thank you" and walked away. I also had my hand crushed by the mother of the groom that night. She walked up to me in the bar and said in a really crappy tone, "how do you know my son?" Well, I was scared because technically I don't know him. After I had explained, she shook my hand and squeezed it really hard for a really long time, and it hurt like hell. So many other little things happened that night, but I think this post has gone on long enough. So I'm just going to end it here.

Precious little baby

Here is another picture of Anthony Jr. and my mother's hand. Look at how small his foot is!! I hope I get to meet him soon. We're trying to think of a nickname for the baby since my brother's name is Anthony too. Alexander wants to call him AJ, for Anthony Junior. I think that name is so boring. I want to call him Ace, you know like how Father Miller calls guys Ace? If I don't get to call him Ace I'm just going to call him Anthony. I suppose I should ask my brother and Leah what they think.

Baby pic

Here is a picture of Anthony Jr. I hope to have more soon. Please keep up the prayers.

New Baby

My nephew, Anthony Ross Arnett Jr., was born today. He weighs 15.5 ounces and is 11 inches long. He has already been baptized and the doctors say he is healthy and happy. Obviously he has a long road ahead of him until he gets out of the hospital, but things look good so far. I can't wait to meet him, but I know that I'll have to wait a while. I'll try to post pictures when I can. Thanks for all your prayers!!!

Going Batty

Well, the semester ended Friday and I thought that I would be able to sleep in after that. But Saturday I had to get up early to exercise. Sunday we were in Ft. Wayne visiting David's parents. Monday we had to get up early to go back to Lafayette. Tuesday I was woken up by the mutant children down the street. So I thought I would finally get a good night's sleep last night. I opened the window so the breeze would blow in and keep me cool. Well, I didn't know this, but there is a space where the window frame and the screen do not meet perfectly and leaves a crack.(Surprise! Something wrong with a Godby apartment!)Anyhow, as I was just about to fall asleep David lunged awake and said, I think there's a bird in our room. Sure enough there was something flying quickly in circles near the ceiling of our room. However, this "bird" was really a bat!!!!I immediately turned into a girly girl, squealed, covered my entire body with the blanket and told David to go get it. The bat flew out of our room and into the living room with David in hot pursuit. I spent the next half hour covered in bed while David was out in the living room throwing bean bags at the bat, which had perched itself on the woodwork of our high ceilings. I think the bat was probably laughing.

David said the bat would not leave the living room and the best thing to do would be to close the bedroom door, go to sleep, and get the bat in the morning. Well, our bedroom door does not close correctly (again, big surprise). In order for it to close all the way, you have to put your entire body weight into it and then when it closes, the seal is almost air tight. David did this and we tried to get back to sleep. Unbeknownst to us, the bat had actually flown back in our room and we shut it in. About a half hour later, David lunged awake again and we saw the bat doing circles around the room. David wrenched the door open, which was hard to do, and let the bat out again. By this time I'm freaking out. I completely covered myself with the blanket and told David to go get the bat. I told David to get the broom and get the bat out that way. David chased the bat to our entryway where he swatted at it for about a half hour. He said he had to jump and swat with the broom at the same time because the bat was flying so high. Damn those high ceilings! He finally got a direct hit and stunned the bat enough that it fell to the floor and did not move. David then swept the bat out of the apartment and on the the front porch where he flew away a couple of minutes later. Then we finally were able to get some sleep.

So, to make a long story short, we will be getting an AC this summer instead of leaving the windows open, and I will try again tonight and tomorrow morning to get a good night's sleep.

Prayers Needed!!!

Dear Friends,

As some of you know, my sister-in-law, Leah, is pregnant. She has recently had problems with her blood pressure skyrocketing because of a problem with her blood vessels that she did not know she had before she was pregnant. This extremely high blood pressure is called preeclampsia. When preeclampsia occurs it disrupts blood flow to the placenta and the baby can't get enough nutrients to grow. Her Preeclampsia has gotten so bad that she has to be in the hospital until she delivers the baby. The problem is that she is only 23 weeks pregnant and the doctors say it is doubtful that she will even make it to 28 weeks before they have to induce. If they don't induce it is possible that both Leah and the baby could die from the high blood pressure. Of course, if they induce too early, it is still possible that the baby could die because he is so small. He only weighs 12 ounces right now. I am so scared and I know the rest of my family is too. Please, please, please pray for my brother, my sister-in-law, and my unborn nephew, even if it's just one small, quick prayer.

Finals week update

I have written 48 pages in the last eight days. I did not have any of my papers started as of last tuesday night. I'm going a little crazy. If I have spoken to you in the past couple of days and have seemed a little um....out of it or perhaps crazed, this is why. For the past two days I've had an on again off again headache in the back, top left side of my head. My vision has been bluring a little when I sit down to look at the computer. I think all of this is just due to strain on my eyes, but who knows? Maybe I have a paper induced tumor. But it will all be over tomorrow when I turn in the last eight pages of my college paper writing career. This will bring my page count up to 56 pages in nine days. I know that doesn't sound like much when you average it out to 6.222222222222222222222222222 pages a day,but believe me it was a lot. I'm not promising these papers are masterpieces, but I think they do meet and fill the requirements asked of me, and that's all I care about right now.

The Best Part of Wakin' Up

As my next door neighbor and good friend Anne explained a couple of posts ago on her blog, we live in an interesting neighborhood. In fact, my all time favorite rap group, Bone Thugs N Harmony, might describe our neighborhood as a little "thuggish ruggish". I don't know what this means, but I've heard them say it in a number of their songs, and I take it to mean some sort of descriptive term for a 'hood or one's way of life. Now, it's not like we live in inner-city Chicago or even or even inner-city FT. Wayne for that matter. Just kidding David. But we do live in "Godbyville", a one block string of old houses that were converted to apartments and owned by people named Godby. It's in North Central Lafayette, or NCL, as all my home fries like to call it. Anyhow, you could guess that these apartments might draw people who live the "thuggish ruggish" lifestyle. And they do. Lately, there has been a couple who can't seem to agree on anything. And when they can't agree, the man seems to think that he should solve the problem by going outside and yelling as loud as he can. The worst part is that this usually happens at 7:00 am. Who has the energy to have a fight at 7:00 am? And usually fights don't break down into yelling for at least a half an hour, so this means that these people started fighting at 6:30. They must just wake up, roll over, and start fighting.

Well, the last little disturbance went something like this:

Woman- something inaudible from inside apartment
Man- (from outside apartment) Fuck you too! I've been too nice to you.

That's how I woke up Monday morning, so at first I wasn't thinking very nice things about this man. Yet, the more I started thinking about the rules of etiquette, I realized that this was probably a very proper gentleman. Let's review! I got all these rules from a social etiquette website.

1. Be Polite

Remember when you are in a social situation it is important to always be polite and respectful of other guests even if you vehemently disapprove of certain comments or other individuals are not being polite.

This guy did mention that he had been "too nice", which is firm evidence of his politeness.

2. Personal space

Allowing individuals their personal space is important in all conversations, but especially in social etiquette conversation. This allows you to seem interested, polite and respectful of the other individual which are all social requirements.

This guy was allowing plenty of personal space. He was all the way outside.

3.Keep it Short

In social situations it is always important to understand the nature of social etiquette conversation and keep conversations short and socialize with everyone present. If you have a long, in depth conversation with certain individuals they might be resentful because they are interested in exchanging pleasantries with everyone in attendance.

This man kept it to two sentences.

4. Keep Words Simple and Understandable

During the course of a conversation, it is proper to ensure that each sentence or phrase that a speaker would deliver is understood. A listener will normally ask questions from time to time. This means that there are points in the message that he does not readily understand meaning that further explanation of some meanings and implications must be clarified before the speaker is to go on and deliver the entire message.

Fuck. You. Too. I think that's understandable enough.

5. Volley the Conversation

Good conversation is a volley, a tennis volley. You say something, and they will say something, back and forth. Neither of you should hog the conversation.

It is obvious from the "too" in the man's statement that he was just trying to volley the conversation back to the woman.

This man followed the major rules of conversation etiquette, so you can imagine my surprise when I went out to catch the bus and found a police car in front of his apartment. I guess some people just don't appreciate good and proper conversation.