LdyLeaess: did you ever go get your ice cream?
teresalynntucker: no...I got honey
teresalynntucker: which I hate
LdyLeaess: LOL
teresalynntucker: I'm drinking a version of tea
teresalynntucker: well, not at all
teresalynntucker: it's just hot water with honey
LdyLeaess: I remember Grandpa
LdyLeaess: 's
teresalynntucker: oh yeah
LdyLeaess: cough medicine
teresalynntucker: his had whiskey tho, right?
LdyLeaess: whisky, honey,and lemon
- There was a break here where I discussed the yoga pose I attempted today that made me laugh harder at myself than I have before in my life, involved me doing more backflips than I have EVER, and could very possibly have ended my life. A little too graphic for the public though.-
teresalynntucker: I just added some more hot water and honey to my cup
teresalynntucker: and put in some lemon juice
teresalynntucker: just for Grandpa
LdyLeaess: LOL
LdyLeaess: "and one for my homies"
teresalynntucker: LMAO
teresalynntucker: too funny
LdyLeaess: hee
LdyLeaess: Grandpa is a homie
LdyLeaess: aah
teresalynntucker: I think that's one of the funniest things you've ever said
teresalynntucker: that's going on my blog
Wednesday, April 6, 2005
Tuesday, April 5, 2005
Pouches, Predictions, and dog-related traumatic instances
One of my students gave me a present today, and it really just made my day. This is the class I've made necklaces and bracelets for (AKA, my favorite class). This particular student is very craft-oriented. Her mom is a quilter, crafty type person. Jane, this student (her English name, obviously) has brought in quilt-type totes and bags before that her mother has made. Ironically, most of them look like they belong in a Cracker Barrel or something like that. Anyway, when I walked into class today, Jane said she had something for me. Her mom had made me this pouch (that's what's embroidered on it). The best way to explain it is to say that it looks like a coin purse, but the size of a wallet. Does that make sense? Anyway, it's absolutely adorable. Very quilted - which is a ridiculous way to describe it. I'm trying to say that it's obviously home-made, and a lot of energy was required for it. Her mom embroidered "Teresa's Pouch" on the front too - all the more substantial seeing as how her mom doesn't speak English. Nonetheless, it did much to make my day.
I also made some kind of connection and/or breakthrough with my sixth graders today. Have I mentioned that my sixth grade class is composed of 4 13-year old boys and 2 12-year old boys? I have them at 6:00 PM on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays - and when I get them, it's probably the tenth hour that these kids have been in some kind of school setting. They're all very smart...but really, I wouldn't be pleasant on a regular basis if I had their schedules. Anyway, their homework should have been simple. It was the second time I'd assigned them the same worksheet in their workbooks. Of the 5 who brought their workbooks, only one student had even a vague concept of what the answers were supposed to be. (FYI, the page was on making predictions - a concept I thought we had discussed to death - but obviously NOT.) Anyway, five minutes into the class I became aware that I had totally LOST all of the kids. They didn't get the sample paragraph...it wasn't interesting (to them or me, to be honest). So, motivated by frustration and desperation I told them to stop reading their books and listen to me. I told them I was going to tell them a story and they had to write a prediction as to how they thought the story would end. This is how it went:
Me: "Okay, what is a prediction [under my breath: for the 100th time...]?"
- Stereotypical crickets chirping to indicate utter silence in the classroom (an unusual state for this class!) -
Me: "All right...who knows what a 'guess' is?"
Students: "ummm....."
Student 1 : "Clothes! Clothes maker!"
Me: "Yes...but beyond that...what is a 'guess'?"
Student 2: "Think...you think something"
Me: "Yes! Now listen to my story and GUESS how it will end, yes?"
NOTE: "Yes?" is the easy (and only successful way) to ask if the students understand. It's a bad habit though, and I find myself using it when I speak to other English speakers and also friends back home. Sorry. Back on track now..
Students: "Yess..." (reluctantly)
Me: "I have a dog."
Student 3: "Yum!"
Me: "No, not that kind of dog."
Student 3: "Ohhhh..." (disappointed - and YES, this really did happen)
Me: "Okay, so my dog likes to run." (I'm gesturing a run at this point.)
Me again: "One day, my friend was holding my dog." (I'm holding the workbook in my arms.)
Me still: "She dropped the dog." (I drop the workbook, much to the amusement of all 6 students)
Me yet again: "We live near a road with a lot of traffic. What will happen?"
All six students are excited now, because they're basically 13-ish year old boys who love violence and gore. I make them write their predictions in their workbooks. They got it though - they predicted the dog would die from either being dropped, or that she would run into the road and get hit by a car. (Note: Student 3 from above did write something about the dog getting hit so we could eat it. Nice...)
It worked well, and I wanted to give another example to make sure they'd understand. I pulled out the story about being attacked by the dog when I was young, not sure if they'd get the connection between the dog being afraid of the fireworks and then chewing on my head. However, I underestimated the graphically violent imaginations of these young men, and the connection was immediate. When I told them that the story was true, and that I did actually receive 30 stitches in my head at one time, I was elevated to nearly god-like status in their warped little minds. Whatever...the point is that they now understand what a prediction is.
I also made some kind of connection and/or breakthrough with my sixth graders today. Have I mentioned that my sixth grade class is composed of 4 13-year old boys and 2 12-year old boys? I have them at 6:00 PM on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays - and when I get them, it's probably the tenth hour that these kids have been in some kind of school setting. They're all very smart...but really, I wouldn't be pleasant on a regular basis if I had their schedules. Anyway, their homework should have been simple. It was the second time I'd assigned them the same worksheet in their workbooks. Of the 5 who brought their workbooks, only one student had even a vague concept of what the answers were supposed to be. (FYI, the page was on making predictions - a concept I thought we had discussed to death - but obviously NOT.) Anyway, five minutes into the class I became aware that I had totally LOST all of the kids. They didn't get the sample paragraph...it wasn't interesting (to them or me, to be honest). So, motivated by frustration and desperation I told them to stop reading their books and listen to me. I told them I was going to tell them a story and they had to write a prediction as to how they thought the story would end. This is how it went:
Me: "Okay, what is a prediction [under my breath: for the 100th time...]?"
- Stereotypical crickets chirping to indicate utter silence in the classroom (an unusual state for this class!) -
Me: "All right...who knows what a 'guess' is?"
Students: "ummm....."
Student 1 : "Clothes! Clothes maker!"
Me: "Yes...but beyond that...what is a 'guess'?"
Student 2: "Think...you think something"
Me: "Yes! Now listen to my story and GUESS how it will end, yes?"
NOTE: "Yes?" is the easy (and only successful way) to ask if the students understand. It's a bad habit though, and I find myself using it when I speak to other English speakers and also friends back home. Sorry. Back on track now..
Students: "Yess..." (reluctantly)
Me: "I have a dog."
Student 3: "Yum!"
Me: "No, not that kind of dog."
Student 3: "Ohhhh..." (disappointed - and YES, this really did happen)
Me: "Okay, so my dog likes to run." (I'm gesturing a run at this point.)
Me again: "One day, my friend was holding my dog." (I'm holding the workbook in my arms.)
Me still: "She dropped the dog." (I drop the workbook, much to the amusement of all 6 students)
Me yet again: "We live near a road with a lot of traffic. What will happen?"
All six students are excited now, because they're basically 13-ish year old boys who love violence and gore. I make them write their predictions in their workbooks. They got it though - they predicted the dog would die from either being dropped, or that she would run into the road and get hit by a car. (Note: Student 3 from above did write something about the dog getting hit so we could eat it. Nice...)
It worked well, and I wanted to give another example to make sure they'd understand. I pulled out the story about being attacked by the dog when I was young, not sure if they'd get the connection between the dog being afraid of the fireworks and then chewing on my head. However, I underestimated the graphically violent imaginations of these young men, and the connection was immediate. When I told them that the story was true, and that I did actually receive 30 stitches in my head at one time, I was elevated to nearly god-like status in their warped little minds. Whatever...the point is that they now understand what a prediction is.
Sunday, April 3, 2005
Time Change
Just wanted to let everyone who might have the need to figure out the difference in time between where you are and where I am...there's no changing of the time here. So all of you along the east cost time zone (I cannot ever remember the names of the time zones to save my life) I will now be thirteen hours ahead of you instead of fourteen. And those of you in the next time zone (Pensacola, New Orleans and the few people I know in Texas), I'll now be fourteen hours ahead of you instead of fifteen. Go figure that the time would have to change just when I could do the math automatically in my head. Grr. Ah well...this should be easier to figure out - subtracting 1 or 2 is easier than 3 (when it comes to math, I am entirely simple-minded in the stupid way).
So I don't feel good right now and I'm a little spaced out from the medicine I took. I'm laying on my bed, on my side, and my head is laying on my shoulder while I type. From this angle, me typing reminds me of the show Doogie Howser, and how he always typed in his journal in his ghetto fabulous computer (though it was high tech at the time), and the camera showed the cursor, and just his words. I'm going to go lay down for awhile now. Night (or morning) everyone.
So I don't feel good right now and I'm a little spaced out from the medicine I took. I'm laying on my bed, on my side, and my head is laying on my shoulder while I type. From this angle, me typing reminds me of the show Doogie Howser, and how he always typed in his journal in his ghetto fabulous computer (though it was high tech at the time), and the camera showed the cursor, and just his words. I'm going to go lay down for awhile now. Night (or morning) everyone.
Poor Pensacola!
Poor Pensacola! In two days they got more rain than they did in September when Hurricane Ivan hit! Ridiculous, I say!
Saturday, April 2, 2005
Links! (Finally!)
I, for one, am proud of myself. Jeff hinted (in a not so subtle way) that I should link to his site (and return the courtesy), but I never was brave enough to venture into the scary and foreign land of altering the template myself. I don't like how big the font is, but I can't figure out how to change that without going back to edit every post, and that would be NO fun.
Anyway, I added links! Allow me to introduce you
Rickie writes at the Soapbox blog - as some of you already know. If only he would write more...ah well. His posts are guaranteed to be insightful and make you think - but consider this the disclaimer that they could also make you unhappy.
Christie and Rick write at A Couple of Words - I knew of them at BCF. They are thoroughly delightful, and Christie's posts always entertain me and make my day happier.
Jeff and company (hope that's not offensive to anyone) write at To Whom. That's a site that's kept on trucking.
Delightfully tall and witty Jared writes at the Empty Freezer. Enough said.
Haley, wonderful wonderful Haley writes at Under the Table and Dreaming. It's a private journal 99% of the time, but I think so highly of her and everything she says, that anything that's not private is worth reading.
Leaess is my sister's website. She learned html awhile back, and just made this site. (I find that incredibly impressive.) Anyway, she hasn't updated it in awhile, but there's some interesting stuff there.
Turn Left Past Yonder is where my amazing friend JoAnna writes. She is my stupid moment friend. She just moved out to Texas from Florida.
Dead yet living is a group blog with a couple people from BCF. Almost always interesting, and definitely worth reading.
Why is this so stressful for me? Anyway, thanks to Christie for being my inspiration to sit down and do this. I'm not sure why I've been so excessively wordy as of late. Not trying to overload anyone, I promise.
Anyway, I added links! Allow me to introduce you
Rickie writes at the Soapbox blog - as some of you already know. If only he would write more...ah well. His posts are guaranteed to be insightful and make you think - but consider this the disclaimer that they could also make you unhappy.
Christie and Rick write at A Couple of Words - I knew of them at BCF. They are thoroughly delightful, and Christie's posts always entertain me and make my day happier.
Jeff and company (hope that's not offensive to anyone) write at To Whom. That's a site that's kept on trucking.
Delightfully tall and witty Jared writes at the Empty Freezer. Enough said.
Haley, wonderful wonderful Haley writes at Under the Table and Dreaming. It's a private journal 99% of the time, but I think so highly of her and everything she says, that anything that's not private is worth reading.
Leaess is my sister's website. She learned html awhile back, and just made this site. (I find that incredibly impressive.) Anyway, she hasn't updated it in awhile, but there's some interesting stuff there.
Turn Left Past Yonder is where my amazing friend JoAnna writes. She is my stupid moment friend. She just moved out to Texas from Florida.
Dead yet living is a group blog with a couple people from BCF. Almost always interesting, and definitely worth reading.
Why is this so stressful for me? Anyway, thanks to Christie for being my inspiration to sit down and do this. I'm not sure why I've been so excessively wordy as of late. Not trying to overload anyone, I promise.
Good ol' Graceville
I've been thinking a lot lately about Graceville - partly because I'm homesick, and partly because of Jeff's post on Tuesday. Well, Jeff's post and the comments. So here is my take on Graceville - and forgive me for sharing when not invited.
I miss Graceville. I liked it, but didn't always appreciate it. My first year had a totally different feel to it than the rest of my time - and that is because of my decisions made during those other years. (Please bear with me if this is incoherent, I have about five different thoughts trying to come out at once.) Due to a combination of factors, I arrived at BCF (then FBTC) not knowing anything about me. I was petrified that I was going to flunk out my first semester. I was certain I'd have no friends. And then everything ended up being so wonderful and going so well. Looking back, I'm not sure how it turned from a "maximize my potential" campaign into a color the hair, pierce and tattoo campaign. That's not to say I necessarily regret those things - I just don't get where it came from. I didn't think I'd be able to go through with getting my tongue pierced. I had talked so much about doing it, but inside I thought I'd back out at the last minute. When I didn't, I was surprised. I was also surprised when I lost friends starting my second year of school. But looking back and seeing what they saw - looked like I had changed entirely - cut off all my hair, pierced my tongue - but instead of seeing things from their perspective, I just got bitter and found new friends. This is where it all started to go downhill.
Anyway, many hair colors later (I incidentally have pictures galore to prove why orange isn't a natural hair color), a few piercings, and three tattoos later - after being suspended from school, moving to Dothan, going back and graduating (summa! no flunking out for me!), going to Israel, and now in Korea - it makes me sad that I'm known for what color hair I had. That's my complaint with my time in Graceville. All the times I hated it were times I pretty much hated myself because I was wrong (for one of countless reasons). There were things I could have devoted my time and energy to that would have actually been useful and profitable in an eternal sense.
But now...what do I think of when I think of Graceville? I think of my dear friend Megan and her amazing family who took me in as basically one of their own, despite my freaky hair or anything else. They kept me at their house over Christmas break when I had my wisdom teeth out and developed 3 dry sockets when Megan was away at camp. They drove to Pensacola to come to my Mom's funeral when she died. When I got suspended from school and had to tell Mama Reece, my heart broke as if I were having to give the bad and disappointing news to my own mother. I think of Dr. Freeman (who I'm convinced isn't the heretic some thought him to be, though I disagree with him on a lot now) - who was my advisor and counselor in some ways. He forced me to speak up in his classes when I didn't want to (but it was good for me), and let me talk through things when I was struggling with the appeal of open theism after my mom's death. I obviously met my dear best friend Bethany in Graceville - and I can't imagine life without her. And that's the thing - I was so stupid and wasted so many opportunities and so much of my time there. While I was there, I despised it frequently. But now, I miss it and I love it - the time God had me there was an extremely productive one. I think that's the realization Jeff was getting at - it's easy to associate your perosnal/spiritual progress (or in my case, lack thereof) with Graceville - and that's wrong. And then once you're gone, you see it wasn't so bad at all.
Anyway, that's my take on it. I miss Graceville. I'm sad for all the dumb things I did and the time I wasted. But I'm beyond thankful that God is sovereign and gracious, and can work even my own foolishness for my good, and for His ultimate glory - somehow.
I miss Graceville. I liked it, but didn't always appreciate it. My first year had a totally different feel to it than the rest of my time - and that is because of my decisions made during those other years. (Please bear with me if this is incoherent, I have about five different thoughts trying to come out at once.) Due to a combination of factors, I arrived at BCF (then FBTC) not knowing anything about me. I was petrified that I was going to flunk out my first semester. I was certain I'd have no friends. And then everything ended up being so wonderful and going so well. Looking back, I'm not sure how it turned from a "maximize my potential" campaign into a color the hair, pierce and tattoo campaign. That's not to say I necessarily regret those things - I just don't get where it came from. I didn't think I'd be able to go through with getting my tongue pierced. I had talked so much about doing it, but inside I thought I'd back out at the last minute. When I didn't, I was surprised. I was also surprised when I lost friends starting my second year of school. But looking back and seeing what they saw - looked like I had changed entirely - cut off all my hair, pierced my tongue - but instead of seeing things from their perspective, I just got bitter and found new friends. This is where it all started to go downhill.
Anyway, many hair colors later (I incidentally have pictures galore to prove why orange isn't a natural hair color), a few piercings, and three tattoos later - after being suspended from school, moving to Dothan, going back and graduating (summa! no flunking out for me!), going to Israel, and now in Korea - it makes me sad that I'm known for what color hair I had. That's my complaint with my time in Graceville. All the times I hated it were times I pretty much hated myself because I was wrong (for one of countless reasons). There were things I could have devoted my time and energy to that would have actually been useful and profitable in an eternal sense.
But now...what do I think of when I think of Graceville? I think of my dear friend Megan and her amazing family who took me in as basically one of their own, despite my freaky hair or anything else. They kept me at their house over Christmas break when I had my wisdom teeth out and developed 3 dry sockets when Megan was away at camp. They drove to Pensacola to come to my Mom's funeral when she died. When I got suspended from school and had to tell Mama Reece, my heart broke as if I were having to give the bad and disappointing news to my own mother. I think of Dr. Freeman (who I'm convinced isn't the heretic some thought him to be, though I disagree with him on a lot now) - who was my advisor and counselor in some ways. He forced me to speak up in his classes when I didn't want to (but it was good for me), and let me talk through things when I was struggling with the appeal of open theism after my mom's death. I obviously met my dear best friend Bethany in Graceville - and I can't imagine life without her. And that's the thing - I was so stupid and wasted so many opportunities and so much of my time there. While I was there, I despised it frequently. But now, I miss it and I love it - the time God had me there was an extremely productive one. I think that's the realization Jeff was getting at - it's easy to associate your perosnal/spiritual progress (or in my case, lack thereof) with Graceville - and that's wrong. And then once you're gone, you see it wasn't so bad at all.
Anyway, that's my take on it. I miss Graceville. I'm sad for all the dumb things I did and the time I wasted. But I'm beyond thankful that God is sovereign and gracious, and can work even my own foolishness for my good, and for His ultimate glory - somehow.
Friday, April 1, 2005
Do I have to change the name?
I'm not exactly sure when it happened - but I realized today at lunch that I get kimchi everyday - and I eat it! Sometimes it's too hot - and Tuesday it tasted vaguely fishy....so I didn't finish it all. What does this mean? I was talking to my sister about how the food is so much better than it was the first month, and she kindly brought it to my attention that it was not the food, but ME that had changed. Weird how that happens, eh? (Notice the appearance of "eh." Due wholly to the influence of the Canadians.) Tonight almost everyone from work went out to eat - today was one of the last days of one of the Korean teachers. We had samgipsol, which is a cut of pork that has I think three layers - meat, meat/fat, and just plain fat. It sounds gross...and it's not my favorite. It's very strange to me though, because Koreans are so big on healthy food and eating healthy - yet they eat fat in this kind of (very popular) meat, and in other dishes. Anyway, we also had kalbi (galbi - pronounce it whichever way...both seem to work) which is marinated pork rib meat. I prefer that over samgipsol. I had something new tonight though - and I cannot remember the name. But it was pork - neck meat (that's how they explained it to me).
I also tasted dried squid jerky-stuff tonight for the first time. I've avoided it up to this point. Kylie described it by saying it wasn't fishy at all, just warm "leather like" stuff. Right. This brings me to an important point - my problem with food is not the smell (I like some stinky food), or even the appearance - but the texture. That is why I cannot eat squid or octopus - whether dried, steamed, grilled, etc. Just can't do it. And that is entirely okay with me.
I'm putting in a big order at Amazon next week - and I'm ordering a book by Walter Kaiser Jr. on missions in the Old Testament. The missions class I'm in at church got into a discussion about this issue, and when I mentioned the book, a few guys said they'd be interested in starting a discussion group/Bible study on it. I could really use that. I'm also ordering a book called Shades of Sheol (I cannot think of the author's name) about belief in afterlife in the OT. We covered this topic in one of my OT Theology classes, and good ol' Dr. Freeman himself recommended this book to me. Looking forward to it. I find that my brain is hungry - starving for learning. I'm meant for school. I'm looking into different master's programs - Baylor has an incredibly interesting MA program in church-state studies - which includes religion, philosophy, and sociology (also some law, and anthropology). Other options I'm considering are (of course) the apologetics program through Biola - one of the only drawbacks about that program is that I want to do the whole school thing, and I think the Apologetics program is only modular right now. Am I wrong about that? I'd look right now, but I'm too sick and tired.
Remind me to post about the amazingly witty and quote-worthy comment made by my sister Val. (Note: when I usually refer to my sister, I usually mean Jen, the oldest one - because she's online a lot and we talk online an awful lot. She's also the one who helps me with the technical aspects of this site when I foul things up. Valerie is my middle sister who I don't get to talk to nearly enough - but I DID get to talk to her this morning at work.) I'd insert her quote here, but it deserves it's own space. Sweet dreams
I also tasted dried squid jerky-stuff tonight for the first time. I've avoided it up to this point. Kylie described it by saying it wasn't fishy at all, just warm "leather like" stuff. Right. This brings me to an important point - my problem with food is not the smell (I like some stinky food), or even the appearance - but the texture. That is why I cannot eat squid or octopus - whether dried, steamed, grilled, etc. Just can't do it. And that is entirely okay with me.
I'm putting in a big order at Amazon next week - and I'm ordering a book by Walter Kaiser Jr. on missions in the Old Testament. The missions class I'm in at church got into a discussion about this issue, and when I mentioned the book, a few guys said they'd be interested in starting a discussion group/Bible study on it. I could really use that. I'm also ordering a book called Shades of Sheol (I cannot think of the author's name) about belief in afterlife in the OT. We covered this topic in one of my OT Theology classes, and good ol' Dr. Freeman himself recommended this book to me. Looking forward to it. I find that my brain is hungry - starving for learning. I'm meant for school. I'm looking into different master's programs - Baylor has an incredibly interesting MA program in church-state studies - which includes religion, philosophy, and sociology (also some law, and anthropology). Other options I'm considering are (of course) the apologetics program through Biola - one of the only drawbacks about that program is that I want to do the whole school thing, and I think the Apologetics program is only modular right now. Am I wrong about that? I'd look right now, but I'm too sick and tired.
Remind me to post about the amazingly witty and quote-worthy comment made by my sister Val. (Note: when I usually refer to my sister, I usually mean Jen, the oldest one - because she's online a lot and we talk online an awful lot. She's also the one who helps me with the technical aspects of this site when I foul things up. Valerie is my middle sister who I don't get to talk to nearly enough - but I DID get to talk to her this morning at work.) I'd insert her quote here, but it deserves it's own space. Sweet dreams
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