Be my guest

Today was a very busy day, not without a large portion of stress smothered and covered in panic and probable high blood pressure. Today, issue 1 of The Hoofbeat, volume 2 went off to the printer. Also, today was the day that the General Editor of the Dallas Morning News and the CEO of the AH Belo Corporation came to my classroom to talk to my newspaper kids. Holy cow. So much today.

There were, of course, two Digital Media classes and three Professional Communications classes in and out of my classroom, as well. Not that I didn't have enough on my mind...

Two things are worthy of mention. First- obviously- the guests. I am always unsettled at the prospect of sharing my classroom with others. It's my space, and those are my four walls. 

General Editor Bob Mong is the kind of guy who puts you immediately at ease, though. I greeted him at the door of the school, and he was kind, calm and interested in me, my kids and our newspaper. He is a genuinely good person. 

Jim Maroney, the CEO, arrived a little later, and I sent my own general editor and one of my staff writers down to greet him. He was also very kind and giving. 

The pair talked to my sixteen kids and kept their attention the whole time. They were interesting and compelling. Props to the kids, too- my students listened without once glancing at a text message, Snapchat or Instagram. Nobody even tweeted. They made me proud. They even had good questions to ask at the close of the talk. A+ for putting our best selves on display. 

The other thing worthy of note happened after the guests left. I had the draft pages of our paper printed out and ready for some good old-fashioned red pen treatment. Two of my kids were belaboring details that I didn't find all that significant. One was reworking a lead sentence over and over. I told her that the one we developed together was fine, and she insisted that it had to be perfect. While I was busy trying to tell her that you never get it perfect in a newspaper- there's always something that could have been better- she said it was important to her that her very first story have a good first sentence. My whole brain made the "aww, how sweet" sound. I immediately had to apologize for being old and jaded. She is what she's supposed to be. She's idealistic, and she wants to do a good job. We went on to spend a full ten minutes on the sentence. Time well spent. 

Roughly the same thing happened after school with a sophomore boy and a headline. He wanted it just right. He told me he was going to cut it out and keep it, so he wanted a great headine. Aww. (Again) 

As tense as my shoulders have been and as much as this part makes me crazy, it's the kind of teacher heroin that keeps so many of us coming back year after year. They want to do this. Who knew? 

Maybe some of them will go into journalism. Maybe some of them will just get a little better at writing and carry on with other life plans. Either way, between the need to get it right and the way they listened so intently to our guests today, it's a pretty good day to be a teacher. 

Stress management

My journalism class is providing me with a fair amount of stress this weekend. Of course, on top of that, Cas has been trying to get through the thoughtful grading and feedback for his students on a pretty major assessment. Needless to say, we're both extremely busy and sufficiently stressed out. That's what made yesterday such a very good idea.

We probably should have spent our afternoon working and hit up a movie in the evening, but my last piece of celebrating his birthday just had to happen, and it's a good thing it did. We went to Fort Worth for the day and started out with lunch at his favorite barbecue restaurant. That wrapped up just in time for us to get to our Segway tour of the city. Our guide was British, and he told us all sorts of interesting facts about the city's history. I did not know until this weekend that the Water Gardens exist on the site formerly called Hell's Half Acre, and they were built there to change the reputation of a part of town which used to be a haven for drinking and gambling, etc. before cowboys would hit the trail and drive cattle to Kansas. 

Mission accomplished. I didn't see a saloon, a card table or any visible cathouse in the Water Gardens. 

The tour was great, and nobody else chose the 2:30 time slot, so we had a very personalized experience. Cas loved it. It was my fifth time to take a Segway tour, but his first. Overall, a total win. 

After that, we stopped for beers at The Flying Saucer and made our way to the rooftop deck of The Reata, a fancy restaurant for which we were seriously under dressed. We had a wonderful appetizer there and got back to the car so we could go to his favorite Mexican restaurant for dinner. The whe day went at a leisurely pace, and we had plenty of time to walk around and see what makes Dallas' neighbor city special. 

It was a welcome break for both of us, but today, it's back to work for me. Thirteen of my journalism students have never taken the class before, leaving me with three experienced writers on staff, and we go to press tomorrow. The skill levels of my new staffers vary widely. My brain is humming along in top gear trying to get them all to sound like reporters. No matter, though. The pages will be printed and the world will keep turning. 

At least I have this dorky Segway+bike helmet of me and my sweetie to make me smile. 

The mamas and the papas

Today, I met Cas' dad, whose name is also Cas.  I also met his stepmother Anne.  I liked that her name is spelled with an e at the end.  My middle name is Anne.  That's how it should be spelled.

I left the photography club meeting in my classroom early and got into my car, where I repaired my post-school day makeup before driving over to the El Fenix on Northwest Highway.  Cas Senior, Anne and my Cas were there already, but I beat Chad, Becky and Zoey to the restaurant.  I was worried that I would be there too late.  I also worried that I would be there too early.  I worried about a lot of things.  Turns out, there was no real need to worry.  Cas told me as he walked me to my car that they liked me.  That's a load off.  

I liked Dad and Anne a lot.  They were easygoing and pleasant, and they managed to allay my fears long before we even ordered our food.  

We stayed a while after the plates were cleared and talked.  Cas opened his birthday present from Dad and Anne- it was a pair of things with which he may begin participating in hurling.  It's an Irish sport.  I am not familiar, but apparently, this is something that they witnessed on their Ireland trip this summer.  I had to look it up.  There's a bat-type stick thing with a broad end and a baseball-looking ball.  The stick is called the hurley and the ball is called the sliotar.  I had to go check Wikipedia to get that straight and spell it correclty.  Cas briefly explained to me that the sport is a little like lacrosse.  Another website I checked compared hurling to field hockey.  

I got back to my house not too long ago, and dinner was a good time.  Two margaritas, a plate of enchiladas and a meet-the-family event was an unusual way for me to spend a Tuesday during the school year, but I am glad I got the chance.  Anne seemed to have a lot more in common with me than just the fact that both of our birth certificates have the necessary e at the end of the name Anne.  Cas Senior struck me as the kind of man who takes everything in stride, and I hope he approves of his son's choice in women.  

Oh- and everybody got a praline on the way out the door.  I've never had one before that I can remember.  I ate just a chunk of mine, and it feels sweeter than a spoon full of sugar.  

That's it, though,  I have met the mama and the papa.  I know the brother, the sister in law, the niece.  How very grown up of me.  

Now if you'll excuse me, I am going to go eat some more of my candy.  

Thanks a pant load, man-boobs

I live in a duplex. It's a very symmetrical duplex. My half if a mirror image of the other half. I bought my half just over nine years ago, and when I moved in, a woman named Jackie owned the other half. Jackie was a nurse. Nurse Jackie.

Nurse Jackie sold her half to a man named Brian. I called him a name behind his back, too, and it wasn't as kind as Nurse Jackie. I called him man-boobs. I doubt any further explanation is necessary. Just know that we both mowed the grass while wearing tank tops. 

Brian moved out and rents the house out. I have been lukewarm at best about the people on the west side of the wall. The folks over there now seem pleasant enough, but I doubt we would hang out. 

I went out and mowed the grass last Saturday and saw the new neighbor. I also saw that man-boobs trimmed half of a tree. We have a crepe myrtle tree that grows on the property line right where the roof peak is. He decided to cut back the long branches. On half of the tree only. Half. 

Today, I borrowed a saw while Danny was working on fixing my porch. The soffit was damaged, and it was something he could fix for me. It looks great now. I just need to paint it. 

While he was fixing my soffit, I was sawing off branches of a crepe myrtle tree- at least the branches on my half. As I was cutting my part of the tree to match man-boobs' half of the tree, I kept thinking... Thanks a pant load, man-boobs. 

Fruit. Cake.

Yesterday was the highly anticipated day I met Cas' mom. I was mostly ready and pretty excited about it, but I was certainly a little nervous. I put on and took off four different pairs of jeans before settling on the right pair. I thought long and hard about my neckline before selecting a shirt. I chose a pair of shoes I later regretted. Pretty par for the course, I suppose.

When we arrived at her house, she had enlarged photos on all of the walls. She apparently does this every year. Anywhere you looked, there was a photo of a younger Cas. Little kid Cas. Baby Cas. Middle school Cas. College Cas. It was the cutest thing. 

I genuinely enjoyed meeting mom and Dave. They are really nice people. We had Cas' favorite meal. He apparently likes crepes with shredded chicken and a cream sauce. That came with corn and peas. There was a salad before hand and a cake for dessert. Apparently, this is all according to Cas' wishes. In their family, the birthday-haver makes all of the choices. 

Cas chose fruit-cake. Unbeknownst to me, their version of fruit-cake is a cake-shaped portion of watermelon arranged with other fruit all around. Some of the fruit is on long skewers, arranged like kebabs; some is on shorter skewers and some was placed around the watermelon. The fruit "cake" came with chocolate fondue. After Cas blew out the candle that was poked into a strawberry, we all got a skewer to go with a cup of chocolate. For a non-traditional cake, it was pretty amazing. 

I had a good time getting to know mom and Dave, and it was nice to see Cas' brother, sister-in-law and niece again. 

I have one more hurdle to clear this week. I have to meet Cas's dad and stepmom on Tuesday. Chad and Becky (the brother and sister-in-law) are coming to dinner and bringing Zoey (the niece), so there will once again be people I have met before at the table. 

I am glad to be meeting the whole family. So far, they seem fond of me. I think, if I keep treating Cas nicely, they will remain fond of me. 

Funny or die

The birthday celebration started in earnest for Cas last night.  His school is released earlier than mine, so I got a text from him at 4:17 pm asking if he should start to head over to my house.  I hadn't even gotten off the third floor of the school building yet, let alone out of the parking lot (which is a harrowing task in its own right).  I asked him to wait five minutes before taking off.  That would give me enough time to leave the building an fight my way south on Welch Road.  It's tougher than it sounds.

I managed to get home and start repairing my eight-hour-old makeup job before my doorbell rang.  He was on my front porch before I was out of my school spirit t-shirt.  Needless to say, we didn't leave the second he arrived.  I had a few more moments to spend getting pretty and changing clothes.  I had sent Cas a box of chocolate covered fruit from Edible Arrangements, and he brought it over to share some with me.  I had sent him off with chocolate chip cookies from our date night on Thursday, so his Friday lunch must have been pretty chocolate-heavy. 

We got in the car and started heading south to Starplex (yes, I know it's Gexa Energy Pavilion, now), deciding to stop off at a pizza place I vaguely remembered from a previous hazy moment in that neighborhood.  I honestly didn't remember the name or if the food was very good- I wasn't exactly at the top of my game the last time I ate there- but it turns out that The Pizza Lounge on Exposition Avenue is very good.  We had a few beers and shared a pizza before venturing across the street to Starplex for the show. 

When we arrived, there was a comic I didn't really know on the stage.  He was pretty good, but we hadn't missed any of the big names.  the event was being hosted by Jeff Ross, of roasting fame, and he had made a pretty poor fashion choice.  He was wearing a tank top with a weird pattern on the front that looked vaguely like a face.  He had also recently shaved his head.  Not that his hair was all that great- but with a cue ball head, he was double-extra unattractive.  I mistook him for Dave Attell.  That is not a compliment.  Whitney Cummings was the first comic he brought up that I recognized.  She was pretty funny, but I prefer her on the Chelsea Lately panel where she has to watch herself for TV-friendly behavior.  I would venture to guess that she had an 80-20 split.  She spent about 20% of her time making fun of people in the audience and 80% talking about sex, her body, vaginas and other inside-the-pants issues.  Clever, sure, but not headliner funny. 

After Whitney Cummings, Jeff Ross introduced Hannibal Burress, and it was on like Donkey Kong.  Burress was funny, and he was followed by a special speed-roasting where Ross pulled folks from the audience and roasted them on the spot.  He did a pretty good job on that count, making some obvious moves.  He had a MILF-y lady in a tiny mini skirt up there, and he said her balls were showing.  There was a military guy and a brown-ish guy (named Omar).  He thanked the military guy for his service and the brown-ish guy for giving the military guy something to fight against. Pretty much what you'd expect from Jeff Ross.  There was a shaggy-haired, slightly pudgy teenage boy.  Ross said he was either looking at a teenage boy or an adult lesbian.  Pretty spot on, actually.  I wasn't sure. 

Anyhow, after the speed-roast, we got to hear from Marc Maron, whose podcast I used to enjoy while taking walks in the park.  I think my Netflix subscription tamped down that behavior, but his podcast used to be something I would really look forward to. 

When Maron left the stage, we were hit with the one-two punch of Sarah Silverman and Louie CK.  Sarah was wearing a T shirt that said "I stand with Texas Women."  It was a pretty bad ass shirt.  She talked about a pro-choice rally she had attended and an encounter with a protesting ten-year-old who said God hated her.  She made a Rick Perry joke.  I was appreciative that she took time to include our governor as something to laugh at while in Texas.  He certainly makes me laugh.  And cry. 

Louie CK wrapped up the show.  He was hilarious, as you would expect.  His stuff was smooth and practiced, and heavily focused on his experiences as a dad.  Just about what you knew he would say.  I was kind of amazed.  I was sitting next to my guy the night before his birthday.  Today, he is the same age as Loiue CK.  It's pretty remarkable how much better Cas looks than Louie.  I think looking like hell is part of Louie's thing, though.  If he was good looking, I doubt his career would have gone the same way.  Overall, I was glad Louie was on stage and Cas was in the chair next to me.  Best way to do that one. 

In the middle of Louie's set, the couple who had been sitting next to us left.  I had predicted trouble earlier in the evening.  A DJ they used between sets got everyone to cheer based on what decade of life they were in, which is how I know that both of these Rhodes scholars were in their twenties.  Hannibal Burress told a joke about how amazed he was that he hadn't made children with anyone yet, and the girl in the couple said to her date (loudly), "I'm surprised you haven't gotten me pregnant yet."  And somewhere in the middle of the Whitney Cummings/Hannibal Buress portion of the evening, she emitted the well known mating call, "I'm so drunk!"

I spent the latter half of the show convinced that she was going to vomit on my feet.  Cas offered to change places with me, but his shoes were way more expensive (I had cheap sandals), and who lets a guy risk puke on his birthday?  Nah.  I'll take that bullet if it comes down to that.  If I wreck my shoes, I'm out 20 bucks, tops.  She didn't end up vomiting on my feet, though she did step on them.  Both of them.  She was walking past our chairs and managed to step her left foot on my right and her right foot on my left.  Mad skills. 

She and her date both fell asleep during Sarah Silverman's set and they left in the middle of Louie CK's story about taking his kid to tap dance lessons.  There are about six or seven stairs that lead to the place where our seats were, and I watched drunk girl stand at the top of those stairs, wavering as though she may fall.  Her date was no help; he was way too goal-focused.  He was at the bottom of the stairs trying to decide if there were more stairs, or if he could simply step forward.  It's a tough thing to negotiate when you are that far north of .08 blood alcohol. 

When the show ended and the very drunken couple was long gone (thank God), Cas and I walked back to his car in the parking lot.  Given the size of the crowd we were in on the way to the lot, I had a prediction that it would take us at least 30 minutes to get out of our parking space.  I didn't look at my watch- mostly because it would piss me off, I think.  I would guess I was correct, though.  It felt like we sat in a parked car for 30 minutes.  No need to fret, though.  A rise in blood pressure and anger wouldn't have gotten us home any faster.  We just waited for things to clear up a bit. 

Folks were leaving the parking lot from both ends.  We went with the road less travelled, and that took us to a gated exit that was chained shut.  Everyone was turning around.  Everyone except the one guy who parked and was walking from his car with a hacksaw in his hand.  So many questions, not the least of which was Who keeps a hacksaw in the car at all times?  Others included What kind of hurry are you in where you have no time for a closed gate, but plenty of time to saw it open? and Why aren't we filming this?  In the end, we decided to go because we needed to find a different way home and because we didn't want to get to know the kind of man who travels with a hacksaw, nor did we want to see his inevitable fight with the cops. 

Cas pulled up in front of my house after midnight.  It was officially his birthday by the time we got out of the car, so I was the very first person to wish him a happy birthday on the actual correct day.  I have plans to go meet his mother this evening, so I have to get both mentally and physically prepared for that.  I told him that, as a woman, I am obligated to try on about half of the stuff in my closet before any big event.  I don't think I even have a choice about this.  It's the law, isn't it? 

Anyhow, It's his birthday.  I have a present to hand over and a mom to meet.  Big day.  I'll keep you posted. 

Wait- lemme take a selfie

Yesterday was the first ever meeting of the WT White photography club. I have a parent volunteer who works as a professional photographer, and he came as a guest speaker to my journalism class last year.  One of the kids in the room stopped him after the presentation and asked about starting a photography club.  Well, it happened yesterday.  The kid who started the ball rolling is the president, the parent is an enthusiastic adviser, and the room was completely full.  Forty kids showed up. 

We were thinking fifteen.  Maybe twenty.  Nope.  Forty.  Holy moly. 

So that's that.  We have plans and goals and ambitions.  We intend to take over the world, one image at a time.  I suggested we find photography-based scholarships and contests.  Alicia suggested we create a publication at the end of the year.  Larry (our excited parent volunteer) wants to have the kids really develop and grow as artists (at least past the point of taking photos of food or countless selfies). 

We will meet every two weeks in my classroom, and remarkably, we have a good set of goals.  There are more than I mentioned, but it's interesting how, when you get forty kids and three adults in the same space with the same motivation, things start moving in the same direction. 

I have actively avoided sponsoring a lot of things in my career.  I said no to the freshman, sophomore, junior and senior class sponsorship, the student council, the cheerleading squad at my last school (how funny would that have been?) and countless spirit groups.  Not just no, but heck no.  This is different, though.  Photography club sounds like something cool.  At the very least, it sounds interesting. 

Here's what my room looks like when packed with forty kids and three adults who are all there voluntarily after school:

Who you gonna call?

Occasionally, Cas and I do normal-people stuff. Tonight, for only the third time, we went out for dinner and a movie. We had some loosely formed plan to go out, so in the afternoon, I started to look at what movies were in the theater. As it turns out, the Alamo Drafthouse was showing the original Ghostbusters on its 30th anniversary. My first thought? Oh, yeah. We're doing that.

It's great to be with someone who, like me, thinks this sounds just fabulous. Cas exists in a perpetual state of "down to clown." So awesome. 

He came to pick me up, and I had promised to make him one of the very best drinks I can- the now infamous Tuaca lemon drop. I know I didn't invent this and plenty of other folks make them, but I have to say, my Tuaca lemon drop is a thing of beauty. It is a tasty remnant of my days standing behind a bar, or as I now call it, my college tuition plan. 

After that, we went out for dinner and a movie. I know I have seen Ghostbusters enough times to virtually sing along with some of the scenes, but something about seeing it on a movie theater screen really brings it all back in a way that HBO could only wish to do. 

Cas has a birthday coming up in two weeks, and we are making some plans for that. I have a pair of tickets to a comedy festival, and it appears I will be meeting his mom. I think I'm ready. Well, I'm almost ready. I do want to touch up my hair color first. I think mom will like me. I'm likable, right? Alas, we will see in two weeks. My mom likes him. So does my dad. And Danny. And I think Jeff will, too- just as soon as we can get them in the same room. 

I have an idea about an all-day date in Fort Worth the following week as a way to extend the celebration. I have to step my game up- he kind of crushed it for my birthday. 

In the meantime, Cas, Ivan Reitman, Dan Akroyd, Bill Murray and I had a lovely evening. Man, bustin' makes me feel good. 

  

That's a wrap

And just like that, Labor Day is over, summer is done, and we are on a flight back to Dallas. Dad and I had a really great trip. We saw more in a few days than most people who live there have seen. We got an early start today and headed out to a place that made us a breakfast sandwich that was part burrito and part panini. It had spinach, eggs, sausage, grilled veggies and cheese in it. So freakin good. We then decided to kill some time looking for someplace (anyplace, really) to sell us some bananas. We had shared the massive sandwich, and some fruit was in order. 

After much wandering, we scored some bananas and sat for a minute to eat them. We did that while we were waiting for the start time for our harbor cruise. 

We got onto the boat and rolled out at half past ten. Our tour guide was a British fellow named Alex, and he did a great job telling us about everything we were seeing in the harbor. 

When that wrapped up, dad and I headed for a subway station and went pretty far north to meet up with my cousin Kevin and his son Sam. We ate lunch with them, and afterward, his sister Becky joined us in Sammy's favorite park. 

It was great to catch up with Kevin and Becky, and it was pretty great to meet three-year-old Sammy. I hadn't met him before. 

Following that, we hopped back on the red line, returned to our hotel (we had checked out far earlier in the day) to pick up our luggage they were storing and got back into the subway system. The ride to the airport was so remarkably easy. Of the many things that impressed me about the city over he weekend, I will take home a great envy of public transportation done right. 

Dad and I arrived at the airport with time to spare, and because our flight was delayed, we had time for a few final local Boston draft beers. Seemed an appropriate way to cap off the weekend. 

We're in the air now. After the boarding delay, there was a departure delay. All tallied up, we are about an hour and a half behind. It's all good, though. We'll get back and have time to get a little situated, and we can both make it to work on time tomorrow.

Pretty good birthday trip, overall, and something definitely worth doing again.