We all know what that means, right?
I get to spend the next three weeks hanging out in my pajamas and whining on Facebook every time I’m forced to leave the house before noon. I’m sure you’re all really excited for me.
Also, it’s report card time!
Well, actually, since I teach at a university, we don’t really do report cards. We just enter our grades into the magical Internet machine and then the students magically get their grades while I magically disappear into a cloud of smoke and mirrors and I-won’t-be-checking-my-work-email-over-winter-break-so-don’t-even-try.
As I’ve been working on my students’ grades, I’ve been thinking about what grade I might give myself for the past four months since moving to Michigan. So I thought I’d come up with my own report card of sorts, in which I grade myself on stuff.
Surprisingly, I didn’t get all A’s. Even though I was the one doing all the grading.
What’s the deal with that?
Maybe I should send myself an email complaining about my grades. And then ask myself if I can do some kind of extra credit even though the semester is technically over. Because we all know that totally works.
Phys EdAs someone who used to really hate gym class, it’s more than a bit weird that I’ve become something of a fitness nerd lately.
Like, I’m that person who gets really excited about her new pedometer.
And runs around the office asking her coworkers, “Hey, do you want to see my new pedometer?” And then pulls it out to show them even though it’s kind of obvious that they do not want to see it.
And then decides to walk home in a snowstorm just so she can get her recommended 10,000 steps in.
Yep, I’m that kind of nerd.
I’ve also started taking yoga classes.
Yes! Me! Yoga!
Surprisingly, I like it.
And even more surprising: I’m not that bad at it.
Or, at least, I don’t know if I’m bad at it. Since the majority of my time in class is spent either facing the floor or facing the ceiling, I can’t see how horrible I’m doing or how wonderfully awesome everyone else is doing.
Ignorance, as they say, is bliss.
Also bliss: telling yourself that you’re secretly good at yoga.
A all the way!
Sure, I could go to the gym more.
And, sure, I haven’t lost a single pound despite the fact that I walk so much I now have perpetual shin splints.
But I’ve finally faced my lifelong fear of group fitness classes! And I finally know what a downward dog is! And it has nothing to do with dogs. Weird.
Home EcIn another who-is-this-person-and-what-is-she-doing-in-my-pants way, I’ve also become something of a chef over the past few months.
After years with little more than salt and pepper and tins of tuna in my kitchen cabinets, I’m now the type of person who owns ingredients.
I even own ingredients I don’t understand!
Like, cream of tartar. What the hell is that? I know it’s not cream because it’s a powder. And Tartar? Is that a place? It sounds like a place. If so, we need to call them and tell them there’s something wrong with all their cream.
Granted my cooking repertoire is still a bit limited.
Basically, I make soup.
A LOT of soup. So much soup that this is my freezer at the moment:
I even asked for a Crock Pot for Christmas. So I could make soup while I’m not making soup.
YOU GUYS, I HAVE A PROBLEM.
I also, occasionally, make cake.
Although I don’t have the same stockpile of cake like I do of soup. I wonder why that is?
Oh, probably because I ate it all.
I get an A for eating all the cake.
ArtHey, remember when I signed up to take a Chinese painting class? Well, I finished that last week.
I even got this nifty certificate:
And while I would like to say it was all uphill after the droopy grape incident, I have to admit my Chinese painting ability has proven to be kind of hit or miss.
I rocked the lotus.
I bombed the plum blossoms.
And my last piece… well… you decide.
And while you’re at it, can you help me decide what the deal is with that rock in the middle? And, yes, that is a rock. Or it’s supposed to be a rock. Although, I’m pretty sure rocks like that don’t exist in nature. Not even in Chinese nature. And some freaky stuff exists in Chinese nature.
I’m giving myself a B because I was much better than I ever thought I would be, but, still, I can’t forget the droopy grapes. Or that weirdo rock.
EconomicsI suck at budgeting. I really do. I suspect this has something to do with living in campus housing in Asia for four and a half years and never having to worry about spending my money on silly things like rent.
I usually like to blame money-thieving elves for my lack of money rather than myself, but, recently, I’ve been trying to keep better track of my expenses. I’ve even started writing down all my purchases in a little notebook.
This has kind of helped me cut back on my spending. Mostly because I’m lazy and don’t feel like writing down what I bought, so I just don’t buy it.
But I still splurge a bit more than I should.
Like, I still buy way too many five-dollar coffee beverages.
And the other week I went out to buy one pair of boots.
And I bought three.
In my defense, BOOTS.
I’m giving myself a C because I still really suck at budgeting.
And I still really suspect money-thieving elves.
Social StudiesWhile I’ve made a few friends at work, I could really stand to be more social and meet more people. I should probably go to more things. But the kind of things where people actually talk to you.
As it turns out yoga classes and male strip shows are not really those kind of things.
(And, yes, I know social studies is not really about being social, but whatevs.)
I get an F for friends.
As in I need some.
Wanna be mine?
Auto MechanicsSince I live within walking distance to work and most everything else I need to get to, I usually just walk and ignore my car.
And then hope it doesn’t blow up on me during the one or two times a week that I attempt drive it.
But this weekend, I checked the oil in my car for the first time ever.
I also learned where to put the transmission fluid. Although I feel like transmission fluid is kind of like the cream of tartar of auto mechanics. What the heck is the transmission and what does it even do? And why does it need fluid?
Errm, U for Unable to Assess Because Cars Are Scary and Possibly Explosive.
WritingIs there an opposite of writer’s block? Where you have, like, a million-billion ideas you want to write about but not enough time to write about them?
And when you do have the time you find yourself sitting in front of Netflix watching teenage dramedies even though you’re a thirty-seven-year-old grown woman and SHUT UP THE CARRIE DIARIES ARE ON.
Because I’m pretty sure I’ve had that this semester.
I’ve wanted to tell you about all this stuff that’s been happening in my life because it’s all so new and I’m like that and I over-share, but, at the same time, just sitting down and writing about all the stuff is so hard because where do I even start?
With the soup?
Or with the shin splints?
Or with my new favorite, creepy, old cemetery because I have one of those?
Or with the cable guy who asked me out and then never called me until four weeks later and tried to sexy-talk with me and I was like, “Ahhh! What are you doing? I don’t even know you!” and I hung up the phone?
Do I just start there?
Or do I just watch more Netflix?
Usually, I just watch more Netflix.
I for Incomplete.
As in all the incomplete blog entries that are currently floating around my computer.
And all the times I’ve thought to myself, “Hey, I should write about that.”
And then didn’t.
Probably because I was too busy watching cheesy television shows.
Or eating cake.
(Most definitely both.)How would you grade yourself this past year? Are you A’s all the way or are you going to need to ask for some extra credit for this year?