Hmm…How to follow all these conference posts? Unlike everyone else, I came back with a head cold and lived on decongestants for six days. I’m just now starting to see the other side of it. I turned in my American on time and spent time recuperating by going to see Harry Potter and Ratatouille.
I think a lot of what got me was the hotel was a brisk 68 degrees, and outside it was a balmy 98 degrees. The temperature differential ate me alive as I was in and out a lot, including spending all day Thursday at Texas Motor Speedway.
I have to admit, I did skip the RITA/Golden Heart ceremony in favor of going out with a friend of mine who lives in Garland, TX. Carrie and I have been friends since our sophomore year in high school where we ended up sitting next to each other in Mrs. Folsom’s 10th grade English class. We went out and celebrated my birthday, which was yes, Saturday, July 14. We went to the top of the Reunion Tower in the restaurant there and revolved around the city for a few hours along with my friend Joyce Adams Counts.
Now back at Kirkwood High School, Carrie and I were what you call goody-two shoes who were worried about our GPAs. To Mrs. Folsom, we were two who listened tried to learn. In fact, she would use us to break up her troublemakers or talking. For example, she’d move Carrie over a few rows. I’d wait a day, go to her desk and tell Mrs. Folsom I was tired of sitting by the door and would like to be by the window—in that empty seat over by Carrie. Surprisingly enough, this worked about eight times, like when I got tired of the front and went to the back, etc.
Mrs. Folsom, however, wasn’t as washed up or as oblivious as a few of the D- kids in the class thought. Case in point was when she snapped at two boys in the back one day and told them to stop talking. One of them smarted back, “Well, what about Carrie and Michele? They’re up their gabbing away” (we were in the two seats closest to her desk) to which Mrs. Folsom replied, “When you have an A, I won’t hear you either.”
Now that I’m a teacher myself—high school English no less— I often tell this story to my students. Carrie is a music teacher. So we’ve been friends forever (bridesmaids in each others’ weddings) and because she doesn’t have much reason to get back to St. Louis since she has no family there anymore, I try to see her when I’m in Dallas. (PS--I'm the one on the right in the photo above.)
For more pictures of my trip, feel free to pop on over to my blog at http://www.micheledunaway.blogspot.com/
Michele
I think a lot of what got me was the hotel was a brisk 68 degrees, and outside it was a balmy 98 degrees. The temperature differential ate me alive as I was in and out a lot, including spending all day Thursday at Texas Motor Speedway.
I have to admit, I did skip the RITA/Golden Heart ceremony in favor of going out with a friend of mine who lives in Garland, TX. Carrie and I have been friends since our sophomore year in high school where we ended up sitting next to each other in Mrs. Folsom’s 10th grade English class. We went out and celebrated my birthday, which was yes, Saturday, July 14. We went to the top of the Reunion Tower in the restaurant there and revolved around the city for a few hours along with my friend Joyce Adams Counts.
Now back at Kirkwood High School, Carrie and I were what you call goody-two shoes who were worried about our GPAs. To Mrs. Folsom, we were two who listened tried to learn. In fact, she would use us to break up her troublemakers or talking. For example, she’d move Carrie over a few rows. I’d wait a day, go to her desk and tell Mrs. Folsom I was tired of sitting by the door and would like to be by the window—in that empty seat over by Carrie. Surprisingly enough, this worked about eight times, like when I got tired of the front and went to the back, etc.
Mrs. Folsom, however, wasn’t as washed up or as oblivious as a few of the D- kids in the class thought. Case in point was when she snapped at two boys in the back one day and told them to stop talking. One of them smarted back, “Well, what about Carrie and Michele? They’re up their gabbing away” (we were in the two seats closest to her desk) to which Mrs. Folsom replied, “When you have an A, I won’t hear you either.”
Now that I’m a teacher myself—high school English no less— I often tell this story to my students. Carrie is a music teacher. So we’ve been friends forever (bridesmaids in each others’ weddings) and because she doesn’t have much reason to get back to St. Louis since she has no family there anymore, I try to see her when I’m in Dallas. (PS--I'm the one on the right in the photo above.)
For more pictures of my trip, feel free to pop on over to my blog at http://www.micheledunaway.blogspot.com/
Michele