Bring back Doc Martens; or, I'm not even supposed to be here today

My favorite saying is this: Mann traoch, Gott Lauch. It's Yiddish for "Man plans, God laughs." 

It's like some higher being has had a good laugh or two at me this past week.

There was the radio (it's always the radio lately). We have an advertisement heard daily on our two Armed Forces Network radio stations that says, "Stuck on an island with nowhere to go: AFN Radio GTMO."

I chuckle. It's true, but still funny.

I swear this really happened last week---I had just heard that ad while scanning through stations, and then immediately after, on one of my favorite Cuban radio stations, The Eagles' "Hotel California" was playing.

Seriously.

Also, I took my son to see this movie during Throw Back Thursday at our outdoor cinema:

1994 was a good year. Clerks. 

I know, I know, I'm Mother of the Year for that move. I did sort of forget how, well, raunchy it is. (Just the fact that I use the word "raunchy" means I'm perhaps old and semi-senile and may excuse my lack of parenting judgement).

I still laughed, oh boy did I laugh, inappropriateness and all. Clerks is such a slice of the early 90s and reminds me of grad school (much of it spent hanging out with friends at a video store), driving around in my beloved 280z (I could write a book on how much I loved that car), living off snow-cones and Taco Bell, moving to Georgia and then Colorado in very quick succession, and often wearing my Doc Martens just like the protagonist (or anti-hero?) with my favorite movie line: "I'm not even supposed to be here today!"

And that's what I found myself saying while spending yet another weekend at school doing lesson planning. It came out of my mouth before I realized that, oh my god, I'm Dante Hicks, but without a hockey break (on the roof) or a significant other with a counting problem.  (The Doc Martens boots are still in the closet, ready for a much-overdue revival of flannel and mom jeans).  I'm spending every waking hour trying to catch up. Is it getting easier? Um, no. Am I getting used to it? Um. . . no. I am, however, headed to sleep at 9 pm because I'm going to work with my son, who gets dropped off for cross country by 6 am. It's amazing how much work you can get done when you are alone---just a pot of coffee, a stack of papers, and around 6:50, an exquisite sunrise that sort of makes it all worth it.

Slaying Dragons and Monsters; or, Things That Go Bump in the Night

Today's weather at Naval Station Guantánamo Bay, Cuba: high of 89º, partly cloudy, and swarms of gnats still a-buzzing. 

I've been having recurrent dreams (okay, nightmares) since school started.

It's not those "I forgot my pants!" or "I forgot all the students' names!" or any other typical teacher/anxiety dreams.

It's that I'm battling dragons.

Big, scary, dark scaled creatures with wings and claws.

Mother of dragons, I am not.

A quick Google search (okay, there is no such thing as a "quick" Google search) found the following possible dream interpretations:
I'm battling inner demons
I have struggles to overcome
I am carried away by my passion which may get me into trouble
I need to exercise self-control
I will have good luck and good fortune
I'm using my anger to get my way
I'm struggling against my instincts

But it's not just dragons I'm fighting. Oh no.

There are also monsters. And I'm beating them down with my bare hands.

More possible dream interpretations, via Google searches found:
I have problems spiraling out of control
I have exaggerated fears in my life
I have hidden anger
I need to face my worst fears and inner demons
I have a very stressful situation going on in my life

Sounds rather dire for the most part, right?

However, I have a better interpretation.

Guess what my seniors have been reading?

We've been reliving Anglo-Saxon times and delving into the world of Beowulf. You know, Ye Olde English tale starring the horrible Grendel, who greedily grabs drunken warriors from their mead hall, biting off their heads and letting their blood dribble down the front of his monster body in the process. Then *spoiler alert* once Beowulf, our fierce, boastful, strong hero rips the arm off of the monster Grendel, leaving him to bleed to death, Grendel's mama comes to battle with Beowulf (moral of the story: mess with her kid and mama will come and kick your a$$). She ends up headless, Beowulf becomes an old king, goes into one last battle with---here is it---a dragon, and all his men, save one, abandon him and he dies a valiant warrior's death (but the dragon dies, too).

That's the quick-and-dirty, but you get the general idea. (Read it if you haven't. Seriously. It's fun, gruesome, suspenseful, and overall entertaining).

I've also been reading Grendel on my own, and more monsters, blood, guts, glory, and that dragon (although he's a little more philosophical this time around).

I can choose to believe that I am ready to implode with tons of stress and fears and problems, or I can choose to believe that literature is taking over my dreams.

Also, I have this note on my computer left by a very thoughtful kid that reminds me to breathe and not sweat the small stuff (I hear his mom is AWE-SOME). It's all about making connections with kids and having a great time. I have struggled with little-to-no direction (I'm the only person teaching my preps in the entire district), a real lack of resources, and other teaching issues that are somewhat minor in the scheme of things. I have about 50 students and know as much about their skills and personalities in a few weeks as it would have taken me a semester to learn with 180 students in the States.

Smile, they're only teenagers. Teenagers never judge. 

I'd like to believe that sometimes, dragons are just dragons, monsters are just monsters, and my problems will work themselves out in their own time.

Hopefully I won't be hitting/kicking the husband or waking up with all the sheets twisted in a knot once The Canterbury Tales begins. He's battled dragons and monsters with me, but I'm not sure if he'll be "longin. . .to goon on pilgrimages."