Designated Doodler

I am convinced that I am truly weird. At ten years old I was watching JAG and building model F-14's. I daydreamed endlessly and wished that my artistic skills could be capable of depicting them. I'd hide in my room, playing James Taylor and imagining alternate endings to the television shows I had become obsessed with. Legos, Barbies, Playstation and Basketball were great, don't get me wrong. But I was happiest when I was nestled atop the tree in our backyard, watching the sunset. I loved books, music and sports like most kid's my age. But I never felt like most kids my age. I felt truly weird... because I was. The things that they worried about - I didn't. And the things they never even considered - were the things that I worried about. Even now, as a teacher, I have yet to meet a student who is anything like me. And it makes me wonder if there is anyone out there like me. Keenly aware. Cautious. Extroverted. Anxious at times. Strongly grounded in my ...

Your skin is a series of scars A storybook of abuse, written in fractures and breaks Everyday you wake up and wonder what it would take To gather your soul and move from this place It's a long walk And you can't breathe With the dust caked in your lungs And dried tears crusted in your eyes Floundering beneath the weight of fermented lies And the bag of broken hopes strapped to your spine Somewhere along the line You forgot what it was to be fine It's easy to step into the abyss Beneath the burning Iowa sun What makes it simple is that You're no one's son It gets old Visiting your father's grave on your birthday Coming up with good enough lies to say To an angry drunk stepfather Or a way to beg along a dirt road For a brother who's running away But the day that Danny was killed Was the moment you knew you couldn't stay With every single step Comes a flash of an indelible, unbearable past... Daddy's cherry red car slipping...

(Photo: Michael Schennum, The Arizona Republic) I was hot stuff in high school. I had a raspberry red RAZR flip phone that I could use to call my mom if I needed to. Did I know what texting was? Of course not, and neither did my classmates. We were in ninth grade, and back then, if you got caught with your cell phone, it got taken up. One day my mom was trying to call me while I was at lunch, but she miscalculated my schedule and called me during the last three minutes of English. My horrendously evil English teacher proceeded to take my phone and give it to the front office. It was a Friday, right before spring break, and to get it back, my mom would have to come down to the school and pay $15. Luckily I have the best mom ever, and I wouldn't have to go through spring break without my phone. These days, I actually work at the school I went to 9th grade at, and things have changed drastically - not just at that school, but throughout the district. Now, 6th grade and up...

The other day I was talking with my students and asking them what book they are currently reading in English. After a heavy sigh and a groan one student said, "The Scarlet Letter." To which I replied…"hey, that's a great book. I read it for fun a few summers back." You should have seen the look on their faces, hahaha. "Why on earth would you do that?!" one girl asked in disbelief.  "Well, because it's a classic and I never read it in high school - it wasn't in our curriculum. So I wanted to read it!" Two girls exchanged a shocked look and they turned their attention back to the worksheet in their laps.  "Is it so crazy that I like to read for fun?" I asked. "YES!" was the resounding answer. One girl went on to tell me that her mother used reading as a PUNISHMENT for when she was bad as a child. Another student told me that they couldn't even make it through the first Harry Potter book because ...

The waves of the sea crest in your eyes It's sea foam white Changes in the light From azure topaz in the day To royal navy in the night How many have fallen in And remain adrift In the current that circles The black hole? I wonder as I float, If I'll ever know My mind is a beacon That beckons rescue Only to have my heart Flip the switch off And at this rate, I will be forever lost In the tepid tide that rolls with the moon In the vast expanse Of the tiny ocean Rushing in your eyes Pulling me to you

Brace yourselves, it's time for the obligatory year-end blog post. But why should I bore you with tales of my life? Because it's fun for me, that's why! I learned a lot in 2014, and some of those lessons learned were tough. As if I didn't trust people enough to begin with, my coworker at my last job snooped around my desk, read documents on my desk and told me we were never friends. Despite having invited her over to my house, bringing her cupcakes and asking her if she wanted to take breaks with us. I'm such a monster right? But you know what? It's all good, I wish only good things for all of my former coworkers. Anyway, I left that job and advertising all together. I'm not sure if I'll return to advertising or not, but I have discovered a deep seeded love for teaching. I busted my hump over the summer - going to eight hour alternative teaching classes and passing four teaching tests. Two of them were only a week apart. I have a good job, and I...

I know that a lot of people are getting wrist tattoos featuring a single word that describes something they love. I've considered this trend…however, I think people might judge me if I get "donuts" tattooed on my wrist. Which is why my backup word is "Netflix."