Dear Chicago (the city, not the Ryan Adams song),

Saturday was this:

Wasn’t that fun?  60 degrees and clear, watching the Cubs win?  So what the heck is up with this?

Right Now for
Chicago, IL


Feels Like
It does not help that I’ve been getting up at 5am to get to this school site visit I’m doing by 630 am. Grump city around here.
Although it is kind of fun to be back in a high school again. Favorite student exchange from yesterday:
Misbehaving student who has just been punished for using the f word in class: “It’s a free country, man.  Don’t try to control me.  You don’t even KNOW me.  I’m, like, one of a kind.  Unique and deep and shit.”
Student next to him:  “Hell yeah, one of a kind.  Deep and shit.  Me too. What he said.”‘
That pretty much sums up high school, doesn’t it?  My friend is doing something cool/risky/funny/interesting- I want to do it too!  Don’t want to miss anything!  Me too! Wait for me!
Also, high school students are no better at approximating age than my elementary students were.  Did I ever tell you that story?  I started teaching elementary school when I was 23, and I didn’t really want to advertise that I was one of the youngest teachers in the school, so I would always demur when they asked me.  They finally decided to take a vote to determine how old they thought I was.  The students divided into two distinct camps: those who thought I was 19 (apparently I was a child prodigy and started college when I was 14) and those who were absolutely convinced I was 41 (um, geez, best look into some wrinkle cream, I guess.)  Yesterday a high school senior asked me how old I was, and I said “how old do you think I am?” and she said “um, 21?”  “No way,” said her friend, “she’s hella older than that- she’s like 45 or something.”  Sigh. Guess I still have a ways to go in the makeup department. Anyone know a good undereye concealer?