final exam

Well, at least for this semester. That's right, folks, one to go, and I'll have [hopefully successfully] completed my first semester of graduate school. Problem is, this one's kind of a doozy.

Our school-age (language disorders) professor expects us to differentiate between the ten different language disorders we've covered in class, indicate the specific deficit areas (there are about five or six per disorder), decide which assessment tools we would like to use, and formulate a lesson plan for intervention, given "a few sentences" about the child. Phew!

There are ten case studies. So basically, we're supposed to do a full day's worth of diagnostics and planning in 2.5 hours or less. I am not what you would call prepared for this. So I'm implementing an intervention plan for myself to help me learn and be more comfortable manipulating the material. I've got my index cards and an assortment of markers at the ready, and I'm going to look through my old lesson plans (that I wrote for this class) for an idea on how to remediate myself.

For those of you that this means virtually nothing to, I am going to pretend that I am a child with a language disorder and teach myself the material for my test using a lesson plan that I wrote for an 8-year-old.

I'll probably go with a hybrid of word finding and information processing disorders.

oh hey boone winter!

Winter came to Boone this week. It's cold and rainy and as I was walking from my car to class this morning I found myself thinking, "Help me, coffee! Help me, wool coat! Help me, mittens from target (which I happen to keep in my glove box)!" in a Ricky Bobby-esque fashion. This, of course, made me laugh - out loud. Fortunately there weren't any people around me to judge me as certifiably insane (or think I was crying and attempt to offer their condolences...?).

The good news is that the laughter actually "helped me" more than the coffee, coat, or mittens. It warmed me as I thought about how dumb the selection ballet flats was for a day such as this. Even as the freezing water seeped through to my toes, I continued to laugh.

Maybe I am crazy.

best christmas song ever

The Horse's hay beneath His head
our Lord was born to a manger bed,
that all whose wells run dry
could drink of His supply.

To keep Him warm the Sheep drew near,
so grateful for His coming here:
You come with news of grace,
come to take my place!

The Donkey whispered in His ear: Child, in thirty-some-odd years, You'll ride someone who looks like me (untriumphantly).

While the Cardinals warbled a joyful song:
He'll make right what man made wrong,
bringing low the hills,
that the valleys might be filled!

Then Child, asked the birds,
well, aren't they lovely words we sing?
The tiny Baby lay there without saying anything.

At a distance stood a mangy Goat
with a crooked teeth and a matted coat,
weary eyes and worn,
chipped & twisted horns.
Thinking: Maybe I'll make friends some day
with the Cows in the pens and the Rambouillet,
but for now I'll keep away -
I got nothin' smart to say.

But there's a sign on the barn in the Cabbagetown:
WHEN THE RAIN PICKS UP AND THE SUN GOES DOWN,
SINNERS, COME INSIDE!
WITH NO MONEY, COME AND BUY.
NO CLEVER TALK NOR GIFT TO BRING
REQUIRES OUR LOWLY, LOVELY KING.
COME YOU EMPTYHANDED,
YOU DON'T NEED ANYTHING.

And the night was cool and clear as glass
with the sneaking Snake in the garden grass,
as Deep cried out to Deep, the Disciples fast asleep.
And the snake perked up when he heard You ask:
if You're willing that this cup might pass
we could find our way back home,
maybe start a family all our own...
but does not the Father guide the Son?
Not my will but Yours be done!
What else here to do?
What else me but You?

And the snake who'd held the world,
a stick, a carrot and a string, was crushed
beneath the Foot of Your not wanting anything.

-A Stick, A Carrot & String, by mewithoutYou

in MY monologue

Here's a little something I wrote over Thanksgiving break. It was inspired by a good friend with whom I had coffee that week, as she shared this video with me:

http://www.hulu.com/watch/107502/saturday-night-live-taylor-swift-monologue

I like camping and mint chocolate chip ice cream,

but I'm not gonna talk about that

in MY monologue.

I like laughing and my charm bracelet,

but I'm not gonna talk about that

in my monologue.

La la la.

La la la.

I like going to Egypt and shooting guns in Colorado

but I'm not gonna say that

in my monologue.

I moved to Boone, thus expanding my horizons

but I'm not gonna say that

in my monologue.

La la, LA la la la la

This is my blogosphere monologue.

You might think I'd mention the half marathon that I ran yesterday in Atlanta

but I'm not gonna talk about that

in my monologue.

By the way, I did real well!

Though my hip-flexers hurt like hell,

but I'm not gonna write about that

in my monologue.

La la la.

Ha ha ha.

Ha ha ha.

Ha ha ha.

La la la.

And if you're wondering if I might

be dating a chemical engineer,

well I'm not gonna comment on that

in my monologue.

La la, LA la la la la

This is my blogosphere monologue

You might be expecting me to say

something about going to the Philippines in May

with Operation Smile to do a medical mission,

It'll actually be in March

Shortly after spring break

but I'm not gonna talk about that

in my monologue.

My blogosphere monologue

La la, LA la la la la

That was my blogosphere monologue.

update

Friends, the seasons are changing, and it's high-time for an update.

There is a time for everything
and a season for every activity under heaven:

a time to be born and a time to die,
a time to plant and a time to uproot,
a time to kill and a time to heal,
a time to tear down and a time to build,
a time to weep and a time to laugh,
a time to mourn and a time to dance,
a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
a time to embrace and a time to refrain,
a time to search and a time to give up,
a time to keep and a time to throw away,
a time to tear and a time to mend,
a time to be silent and a time to speak,
a time to love and a time to hate,
a time for war and a time for peace.

-Ecclesiastes 3:1-8

Panera

Today I woke up and went to Panera for a whole grain bagel and cup of coffee. Than I stayed here for four hours, working on a project for my neurogenic communication disorders class until the lunch crowd arrived. Upon the realization that a great deal of my consciousness was being spent suppressing the urge to politely ask the boisterous group of gossiping women at the next table to can it, I decided that it was time for a break. So I went home, stopping at the grocery store to pick up a couple of staples for the week on the way. At home, I cycled my laundry and completed one (of the THREE) preschool language disorders assignments I have due on Monday.

Then I came back to Panera for a cup of tea and some French Onion Soup. I'll stay here for another 45 minutes - until they close. Then I'll move to another coffee shop that stays open a little later.

today

Today has been the most perfect day. It hasn't been exceptional by any means, except perhaps exceptionally ordinary. The past two days have been more like what I expected graduate school to be like than the last two months of class. Yesterday I did preschool language screenings before class, and today three of my classmates [read: friends] and I did hearing screenings at an elementary school in West Jefferson.

We had to meet at 6:30 AM, clinic I.D. lanyards around our necks, travel mugs of coffee in our hands, and smiles on our faces by the time we arrived in Ashe County, 30 minutes early (thanks a lot, Garmin). So we went to West Jefferson's new fancy Wal-Mart and perused the Halloween cards to send to our siblings in Georgia and Florida. By the time we left the store, the sun had decided to make an appearance. We screened first, second, third, and fifth grade students, as well as a couple of RTI (Response to Intervetion [potential special education candidates]). It was kind of fun. We were finished before noon and went to a Thai restaurant in downtown Boone for lunch.

It's a rainy day, so I've been inside reading an Emily Griffin novel and doing laundry. Finally I conceded that it wasn't going to stop raining, so I put on my new balance shoes and went for an eight mile run in the rain, listening to a couple chapters of To Kill A Mockingbird. (Somehow I made it through the public school system without having been made to read it previously... sounds like a child was left behind).

And tonight? Contra Dance.