Category Archives: Seasonal

"Come, let’s go a-Maying"


Come, let us go while we are in our prime ;
And take the harmless folly of the time.
We shall grow old apace, and die
Before we know our liberty.
Our life is short, and our days run
As fast away as does the sun ;
And, as a vapour or a drop of rain
Once lost, can ne’er be found again,
So when or you or I are made
A fable, song, or fleeting shade,
All love, all liking, all delight
Lies drowned with us in endless night.
Then while time serves, and we are but decaying,
Come, my Corinna, come, let’s go a-Maying.
– Robert Herrick

Today is May Day. Images of Renaissance drenched floral leaflets on the heads of fair maidens is conjured in my mind and the well known Cavalier mantra to “Gather ye rosebuds as ye ‘may'” comes quickly to my lips. A spirit of carpe diem falls upon me, and I sigh in relief.

My senior year of high school, my favorite teacher introduced me to the joys of 16th and 17th century poets. I fell in love with the Metaphysics (John Donne, George Herbert, Andrew Marvell) and the Cavaliers (Robert Herrick, Ben Johnson, Richard Lovelace) alike. At various times in my life, I have embraced either the heavy, lofty scholasticism of the Metaphysics, or the merry-making, free spirit of the Cavaliers, both good in their own right, but equally lent to destruction if taken to the extreme.

The last three years have found me densely situated in the Metaphysics camp. I have studied, I have researched, I have written, I have entrenched myself in the world of academia. And I think in this, a small piece of me has died, or at least collected dust on some long-forgotten shelf of my existence. And so today, appropriately on the 1st of May, as I anticipate my release from the duties of scholarship and homework on my graduation May6th, I will celebrate carpe diem.

I don’t intend to dally in the world of hedonism for long, and certainly not to a point of folly, but I do intend to begin to enjoy the simple things in life: warm rays of sunshine on a spring day, the soothing fur of puppy dogs, the cool flavor of an ocean breeze, and the juicy joy of a ripe strawberry.

I hope, in this somehow, to find a few less gray hairs (both literally and proverbially speaking), and realizing that “a drop of rain once lost, can ne’er be found again,” begin to reclaim the pieces of me that became suppressed in my time of great Metaphysical pondering and labor.

I DO intend to bask in the old glory of writing for writing’s sake and to take up my pen and paper and go “everyday a-maying.”

Senioritis

Senioritis: typically defined by most teachers as the mental, and sometimes correspondingly physical, illness that ails students approaching their final year of an academic program. For some unfortunate souls, symptoms may arise as early as sophomore, or in rare cases, freshmen year.

I have senioritis, self-diagnosed. I graduate with my Master’s degree in English in approximately 3 months, 2 weeks, 2 days and 1 hour (but who’s counting?) Ever since starting my thesis (the actual writing) this last fall, I began to notice tell-tale signs of this alleged disease. Now, I am convinced that I have contracted this malady, having succumbed to all the pitfalls within the fullness of its spectrum.

Here is my case:
1.) I get onto facebook before I get my notebook out for class.
2.) Notes?! What are those?! I’m pretty sure I don’t even carry a notebook to class anymore.
3.) I catch up on email.
4.) I can name at least three people off the top of my head that I have been in constant text communication with for the entirety of class, and still going strong.
5.) When my friend sitting next to me asks what the prof is talking about, I have no idea. But ask me what the most recent status updates are on “the book”, and I’m your girl! (Yes, facebook is on my list of symptoms twice; telling, I know!)
6.) NO idea what my classmates’ names are, except for the one sitting next to me, and the one I used to go to church with.
7.) I rolled up to class 15 minutes late because I was still getting my hair did. Gotta be “fancy.” Wish I could get dancy. Maybe I’ll start bringing earbuds and pull what my kids do, hiding them in my jacket, low key status.
8.) I’m writing this blog.

And writing this blog is exactly what I will be doing every Thursday night from 5-8pm until approximately April 28th, with a few misses here or there for when I fully plan on ditching. Not only is this my last grad class EVER, but it is also, carbon copy, the EXACT same Linguistics class I took as an undergrad: same professor, same coursework, same course title, same handouts, same boringness.

And so, since grad school is the main reason why my blogging has lagged since last November (which incidentally enough chronicled the history of my thesis), then I shall now select to use both senioritis and grad school productively, and maintain my blog.

After all, an English Master’s IS supposed to make you a better writer, right?!

A Thanksgiving Thesis


So, strange, and albeit deranged as it may sound, this Thanksgiving, I am thankful for my thesis. Again, I realize this may make me sound crazy (although, those of you who know me, know I already am), the nerd in me has actually enjoyed writing my thesis this fall semester. It has been the culmination of the last year’s worth of research, time, money, stress, sleeplessness, and overall academic pursuit. There is a satisfaction and fulfillment unmatched by anything else that courses through my veins everytime I press send and an email is issued to my committee, containing a chapter file attachment. Tonight, I sent the last one off.

I actually thought of a great Thanksgiving metaphor this afternoon. I went to Starbucks, planted my butt down with a holiday beverage (the unrivaled peppermint mocha), and proceeded to tell myself that since I was not at home cooking a turkey, stuffing, or pumpkin pie, I would cook my thesis instead. And I would not quit until it was done. Golden brown. Ready to be served. Grab your potholder and brace yourself for the delicious smell of a baked beauty kind of done. And so, I did. The timer dinged, the goods were ready, and then I proceeded to do all there is left to do, reheat the leftovers. Yes, that’s right. After finishing my conclusion chapter, I began to revise my chapter one.

And so, this Thanksgiving I am thankful for a project that I know has made me a better thinker, a better researcher, a better writer, a better editor, and overall, a more sophisticated academic… I hope!

All that said, there are some things I am looking forward to being thankful for in the future (ie Spring semester when the reheating is completely done and there are no “leftovers” left).

1.) Spending time with the Lord again. He has been sadly neglected and that is simply not ok.
2.) Stressing less, and thereby eating less.
3.) Spending time with friends and roommates again. They too have been sadly put on the back burner sometimes.
4.) Taking my small group girls out for one-on-one time and group parties.
5.) Being a better teacher who can once again pour over lesson plans and grading.
6.) Re-reading the entire Harry Potter series… and maybe even watching all the HP movies for the first time!
7.) Running more (in daylight hours!, when it is safe)
8.) Watching Glee.
9.) Saving money and paying off credit cards and loans.
10.) Making dinner and improving my domestic skills.
11.) Blogging more 🙂
12.) Finding my Beckaness again. All that is me has gone into the dullness of thesis writing. Small glimpses of my usually buoyant personality occasionally surface, but I am ready for them to come back full throttle again.

Madness has been fun, and I’m thankful for the insanity that has hopefully at least produced great genius, but I will be very thankful indeed when the sanity returns and I am one step closer to being officially hooded this May 6th!

My Bah-ston Brother


On March 10, 1988, the sky was gray, the morning was early, and my life changed forever at the age of 4.

My one and only sibling made his debut. Since that day, he’s really never left me. He’s been Riverside’s for 22 years. And now, in a few short hours, he begins his road trip with the parental unit to Boston.

Boston. Land of Paul Revere, tea parties, Ivy league schools, fall foliage, and the Red Sox. Now, home to my Kid Brother while he goes to seminary at Gordon-Conwell.

And I’m not going to lie. I’m feeling a bit nostalgic, sitting here looking through old pictures, and realizing he’s not going to be there now every time I stop by my parent’s house. He’s not gonna slap me and yell loudly in my face. He’s not going to fart on me while I sleep. He’s not going to have deep philosophical conversations with me. He’s not gonna stop by at midnight cuz he’s bored. He’s not gonna dance around the living room to 90’s hip hop, and he’s not gonna catch my eye across the dinner table when my parents say something so very “parental” of them.

And so, there’s a lot of things I could say about how much I love him, adore him, respect him, wish the best for him, have prayed for him, will still pray for him, and will MISS HIM. A LOT. But for now, before I get all worked up and have to find the tissue box, here’s to the memories we’ve made. And here’s to the memories we WILL MAKE when I go to visit him in “Boston in the Fall.” 46 Days and counting…



Cologne Culprit and Class Informant

5th period is going to be that class. You know, that class that you just gel with, enjoy, look forward to, can turn your back for a second and they’re STILl doing their work, that you can joke with and be serious with, that you already have identified by the end of the first week of school.

And let me tell ya, it’s a bit of a shocker. Never would’ve thought that 5th period, the class right after lunch, would yield some of my favorite memories thus far into the 2010-2011 school year. And one of them is right now. I’m sitting here, grading my sophomores’ creedo projects during my prep period, when I come across the cologne culprit’s assignment. He has already identified himself as THAT kid in THAT class. For the past week, there’s been a kid in this class who seriously just REEKS of cologne. I mean, he bathes in it. For five days now, the running class joke has been to find the “cologne slut.” Well, today he has been had. Because his assignment even smells like Axe or Old Spice, or something.

And that’s not the only thing, cologne culprit is apparently also the class informant. He decided that on his creedo he would let me know such things as, “‘Candy’ is those brightly colored rave bracelets, fyi” and ” ‘No racial’ is the new ‘no homo'” and “My TA for Spanish is super cute!” (thanks, but why do I care, she’s not a TA for my class?!) Oh, but apparently he wants me to “hook it up with the TA, yehh?;)” (the one for my class! Can we say player?!)

And then, as if those reflective points on his creedo weren’t charming enough, he adds “Ms. Lohman is pretty cute!” and tells me today that I “have guns.”

Thanks, Cologne culprit. Now all you have to do is buy me Starbucks daily and you just might get yourself a good grade … at least in the art of brown-nosing to your teacher.

Week One: Check.
THAT class: Check.
THAT kid: I think it’s a check, folks.

Those Daisy Dukes, that Green Light Jukes

You know, the thing with teaching is, sometimes the kids really impress you. I mean, REALLY. Today was one of those days. My kids have worked dutifully the past three days actually on these culminating, creative, colorful, critical thought-provoking, clever, can’t-even-imagine-what-they’ll-do posters. And this poem just had to be shared. Too good to pass up.

Oh, and I might add, it’s a bit PG-13 rated. I let it pass though, because well, honestly, Gatsby is a little PG-13 rated.

Those Daisy Dukes, that Green Light Jukes (title mine)
The green light on the shore,
Luring the discovers of the new world with wealth and riches.
Too bad for Gatsby,
This land is full of bitches.

The green light luminescing from across the sound,
lands Gatsby into the dog pound.
A woman laying with Tom,
Nick sees it for what it is, a ticking time bomb.

Myrtle in the street lying dead,
The sight of this fills Wilson with dread.
The green light in sight, nothing could’ve stopped him,
Except…
Wilson’s bullet that dropped him.

Rose Parade Wish List


So, after spending the night on Colorado Blvd. for New Year’s Eve and sleeping through most of the parade the following morning, I have crafted a “wish list” for NYE celebrations in Pasadena (should there be a second occurrence of this event).

1.) Full stock of marshmallow ammunition to throw at the teenagers who bomb your car as you drive down Colorado.
2.) A cot.
3.) Wii set up to eliminate hours of boredom.
4.) Fire pit.
5.) Pillows (cases to be burned the next day)
6.) Chalk to mark the lines of our camp site.
7.) Boombox for tunes and spontaneous dance parties
8.) Caffeine IV drip.
9.) Breakfast foods
10.) Toilet paper
11.) This isnt exactly a wish for something, but rather a wish for something to be banned: horns. May they never “grace” us with their presence again. So obnoxious. Almost more obnoxious than the horn players themselves.


Wrapped Up With Love


“So I’m sending you a little Christmas, wrapped up with love. A little piece, a little piece, to remind you of…”

OUR ANNUAL CHRISTMAS PICTURE TRADITION!

After the various hate mail we received both on facebook and in person last year after the ground-breaking footie pajamas pictures, our apt decided that taking absurd Christmas pictures needed to become ritual. But not just ordinary ritual, EPIC ritual. And so this year, instead of dressing up like five year olds awaiting the night before Christmas, we dressed up as presents and decided to “gift” ourselves to all our friends via photography. A special thank you goes out to Andrew Hochradel for his superb photography and editing skills, which made this tradition possible.




On Your Mark, Get Set, Go!


So, as of Monday morning, there will be 185ish days until the Tiffany’s Tenure. Sarah and I decided some small, modest, and classic Tiffany’s jewelry are to be in order as of June 10, 2010. But… we have a school year to get through before that can happen.
So, that said, after a 12 hour day Friday, I snapped these pictures as I slung my millions of teacher bags across my shoulders and locked up my new classroom, not to be opened again until Monday morning when 175 kids will pass through there.
BUT, before I share these sweet pics of the new classroom awesomeness with you, I need to tell you why I’m looking forward to the next 185 days themselves more than the 3rd year teacher gift post June 10th.

1.) I love my kids. More than most other things. There’s no other place I’d rather be working than with my crazy hormonally challenged teenagers at King.
2.) I get to advise the school newspaper this year – a secret life goal I wasn’t sure I’d ever see come true.
3.) 185 days of school = 185 days of Starbucks glory, and hopefully with some Starbucks cards thrown in there.
4.) God is on the move in people’s hearts and letting me see it! This deserves several subpoints:
a.) One of my TA’s got saved this summer and called to tell me.
b.) I have a year to pour into several returning students’ hearts.
c.) I’ve gotten to share about Christ with a student I no longer teach.
d.) I get to have lunch with a student who graduated and am looking forward to our Jesus talks because she loves Him too!

5.) My kids have found me on f-book and messaged how excited they are to start the school year again – um, Iove when kids actually enjoy coming to class – I enjoy the day more that way too! P.S. They are not my friends on f-book, don’t worry, I have boundaries, folks!
6.) I have a sweet skeleton on my wall that is decked out in school spirit gear and will most likely change outfits throughout the year, seasonally of course and for spirit week as well! Oh, and a reading nook complete with popazon chair under the shadows of the Bard! 7.) I get to teach one of my favorite high school teacher’s sons. Weird. But great.
8.) I have a job.
9.) I have a job that I love.
10.) Ok, seriously, I have a job that I love and that is my calling. What more could I ask for?


The Roommates, the Sans, and I




The roommates and the two best Sans in California – San Diego and San Francisco – and I have been kickin’ it the last two weekends, soaking in the last rays of summer sunshine and quickly evaporating summer hours. Sarah jokingly remarked last weekend when I was with her in San Diego that I have become the roommate ho. Yes, I said it. I spend one weekend with Sarah in San Diego, and the next one with Alicia in San Francisco. Apparently I just make the rounds in our apartment. But what’s a girl to do if she can’t see both her roomies at the same time? It’s not like I’m cheating on them -they each know! Shoot, since June the three of us have only all been together once – a night at the gym and dinner at Olive Garden. And even that almost didn’t happen!

So, with no further ado, here is how I spent my first roommate weekend with Sarah in San Diego. We drove down on a Friday morning and did what we do best until Monday evening: lay on the sand, cook and eat, watch movies, and shop. Repeat for four day straight. We did find a landmark to return to next time we hit up her grandparents’ house in the San D: Roberto’s Tacos: best Spanglish speaking and carne asada authenticness one could ever ask for when far from a Chipotle or Albertos! Two teachers, just chillin’ relaxin’ all cool. Not even wantin’ to think about school. And then this weekend in San Francisco with Alicia, we danced our way through 8 hours of travel (4 of them spent on the bloody I-5 alone) until arriving on the Golden Gate Bridge at midnight. The next several days included sightseeing (Ghiradelli Square, twisty Lombard St., and the search for the “Full House” house), teacher planning while Alicia had grad school orientation at Golden Gate Theological Seminary, and then the wild goose chase to uncover all late night Starbucks in the downtown area. We finally struck gold on the cross street of Powel and O’Farrell, but I was left to sit all by my lonesome while constructing a new blog for the kiddos I teach. And… then the drive back today. Joy!



So, time with the roommates and the Sans was good. Even if it did have to be parceled out into two trips with two different roommates. Because from here on out, such memories may be few and far between. Nothing but grad school and teaching on the horizon now. But, there is the Laguna Beach trip THIS weekend as well as the COSTCO excursion to load up on work-week food and then, wonder of all wonders, the John Legend concert in September… So, I guess maybe the good time will keep rolling…