4-28-2013

It’s time again for the yearly ritual of high school kids joining together to awkwardly stand around in a darkened gym. Yes, it’s prom time again. And nothing makes me feel older than listening to the music ‘kids these days’ are listening to and trying to decipher what the song is all about. Just when I think I’ve determined what three words of a song are, it changes into a new song. Or maybe it just started over, I can’t tell

 them apart. I’ll probably need a high speed drill to get that Gangnam Style out of my head.

Staff parking lot at 1030pm.

The prom devolved into a basketball game about an hour into it. Which was fine by me because as my wife says of my dancing: “You scare me when you try to dance.” I don’t think I’m actually frightening when I dance, just embarrassing.  I will quote someone from Twitter that defines my dancing: “If you’ve ever seen me waiting impatiently in line, then you’ve seen me dance.”  So I don’t think the prom died because I wasn’t out there busting a move. It died because we had only about a dozen kids there, 7-12th grades. And as with most small towns in the country, most of the kids were related to each other in one way or another. The prom king and queen were first cousins and the prince and princess were brother/sister. I don’t know about you, but I’d rather play basketball with my cousins than dance with them. So they took down the decorations and played basketball for the last hour. The shame of the night was all the hard work that was put in by many of the school’s staff, to only have it become a basketball shoot-around. They put in several hours after school last week to transform the gym to a ballroom. Sorry Essie and Brittnay. 

With the prom finished, that means that school is almost over for the year. We have less than 3 weeks left until we fly to the warmth of Oklahoma. That means that in about 4 weeks I’ll be bitching about the heat. We still have most of our snow here and are barely  getting above freezing during the day, despite it getting light at 7am and setting at 11pm.  Once it does warm up, the snow will go quickly. The Yukon will still be frozen for a few more weeks after we leave, although I don’t think the river stays frozen for our benefit. If it did anything for my benefit I hope it would produce fish that tasted like cheese burgers. Maybe next year.

Not cheese burger fish, but our neighbor's catch from his fishing lines.

After a breakfast of coffee and biscuits and gravy, I’m still trying to get those songs out of my head from last night. I like to think I have good taste in music and don’t fall for the common denominator when it comes to music I listen to. I like my lyrics pretty straight forward, without me straining to understand what the song is about. And I don’t hop around riding an imaginary pony. I suppose I’ll listen to my own iPod today to erase the carnage from last night. RIP George Jones.

4-20-2013

Have you ever made a decision and then found out more information that would make you regret your decision? Like when a ‘friend’ offers you a candy bar and you gladly accept. You devour the candy bar only to find out that your ‘friend’ had ‘found’ the ‘candy bar’ on the side of the road. Thanks ‘jerk’. Well, I had a similar experience, but without nefarious intentions or a bout of violent diarrhea. Nope, I took a job at another school for next year.

I requested a transfer from my school in Nunam Iqua to the school, still in our district, at Hooper Bay. We really didn’t want to leave, but the situation of my classroom caused me to rethink what we wanted to do next year. The number of students in our elementary were climbing but the number of teachers, two, were not. I would have been teaching 1/3 of the school’s population while the other 4 teachers would take care of the rest. For those of you who are not good with numbers, this meant that it would be an over burden for Clay and instead of whining, he was willing to move. This was not anyone’s fault, just the way the numbers fell. So, I felt that I would see what a larger school could offer. My transfer was approved and we thought we were heading to Hooper for next year. 

One of the reasons we did not look forward to moving was because of how we had to move. Moving a household is not an easy task, but try doing it through the US Postal Service. This would need to be done by hand. We had already sent our snowmobile to it’s new home, so our local pack-mule (me) would be loaded down with boxes and shipped to our new home. Luckily, we don’t have any appliances or furniture to move but still, it’s not like I enjoy manual labor. Or even automated labor. Labor Day is something I enjoy. So the thought of having to move this way was making me rethink my decision. And since Monica is all about not procrastinating, I had to avoid her in our house. I spent a lot of time hiding in the shower and bedroom closet. It was probably more effort hiding than it would have been than to just pack the damn stuff. Or so I’ve been told. Whatever, Mussolini. Maybe I enjoy crouching behind the dryer.

But on Friday, our principal ask me if I would reconsider staying if they added another elementary teacher. I lowered my voice to a shout and asked him why he didn’t ask me this two months ago. Before the superintendent approved my transfer. Apparently that wasn’t considered at that time. Which, by my recollection, coincided with the time I asked them if they were going to add another elementary teacher and I was told no. But now, here it is. I knew that if I requested another transfer I may look like a waffling turd. Which is not to be confused with the band of the same name. But I took the chance and filled out the proper paperwork and submitted it again. And it was approved again.

So the blog that I had written about our big move had to be aborted and instead I wrote 600 words explaining how I have troubles making up my mind.  I guess I could have just written 3 words: We’re not moving. But since I don’t have to hide from Monica anymore, I have more time on my hands.