Many years ago, a dear friend named Noelle told me about a book she was reading called The Four Agreements. I frequently think of these simple yet complicated agreements, especially when I'm guilty of not following one. I thought it would be a good idea to interpret each agreement in my own way; do my own spin on Don Miguel Ruiz' ideas.

1. Be Impeccable With Your Word.

In other words, don't talk sh*t about people. You know that sinking sensation in the pit of your stomach you get when you somehow find out that someone said mean things about you? Now, would you ever want to be the cause of making a fellow human being feel that way? Karma, anyone? That said, this one is so hard to follow. When someone at work or at home or even on the road upsets us, our first instinct is to rip that person to shreds to the first person we speak to. But does it really do any good? Does it erase that bitchy look a coworker gave you by the coffee pot? Does it do away with that time when your brother gave you attitude for no apparent reason? Does it revoke the license of the bad driver who cut you off in rush hour traffic? No times three.

2. Don't Take Anything Personally

When my students give me a particularly hard time (I'm talking to you, sixth period), sometimes I have to fight back tears. I honestly think, "I'm a horrible, ineffective teacher. I can't get these kids to stop chatting or calling out. I'm in the wrong profession. Can I just leave and never come back?" Truth is, they're teenagers. They're hormonal, imbalanced, trying-to-be-cool teenagers. Is this my fault? No. Does that mean I should stop learning classroom management skills from veteran teachers? No. You follow?

3. Don't Make Assumptions

"My boyfriend didn't tell me he loved me when we hung up the phone today. Something must be wrong. What could be wrong? Is he still mad about that argument from two nights ago?" NO. If something bothers you, ask the person who'd be the best source. Stop worrying. Chances are, your assumptions are wrong. No, scratch that. Assumptions are always wrong. We all know what happens when one assumes...

4. Always Do Your Best

Your best will change from day to day. You're not going to be the same superstar you were last week when this week you have the flu or are feeling really blue or are going through a breakup. "Your best" is individualized to you and your circumstances and your abilities. But don't sell out. This means don't resort to laziness, mediocrity or excuses. And when you do -- because we all do sometimes -- snap out of it as soon as you can because you're really robbing yourself of joy. When I put my all into a lesson and really take my time preparing it, it shows. I am so happy to present this lesson I worked so hard for to my students, that I am genuinely excited about the material. This is contagious. Would you rather learn from a person who looks like they'd rather be gardening or a person who is smiling and joyous? This can be applied to any job at any level.

"Know that truth, forgiveness, and love can heal the world... The world would become a place where all of us live in love." ~ don Miguel Ruiz

I just read the Pioneer Woman's post about how she fell off her picnic table after it unceremoniously broke, and became inspired to write about one of my many clumsy moments.

Several years ago, my aunt and I got tickets to see Movin' Out, the jukebox musical featuring Billy Joel's songs. We're both huge fans, and were beyond excited for the night. The musical was at the Jackie Gleason Theatre in Miami Beach. For those of you unfamiliar with Miami Beach, this theatre happens to be in an extremely busy area. It's next to the convention center, Lincoln Road (heavily trafficked by tourists and locals alike) and pretty much smack in the middle of lots of action.

It was a little chilly that night. This means Miami folk like to take advantage of the few "cold" days a year and bring out our winter gear. So I wore boots. New high-heeled boots. New high-heeled boots that I hadn't realized were slippery.

We were running a little late, which was of course my fault. My aunt is extremely punctual. Her punctuality annoys me and my perpetual ten-minutes late tardiness annoys her even more.

We parked across the street with just a few minutes to spare. When we got to the intersection we had to cross, the light was about to turn red. So what does she do? Rather than wait for the next light, she grabs me by the hand and yanks me into the street, yelling, "Run! We're going to be late!"

I, a non-athlete, was completely unprepared for this sudden burst of cardio, so I kind of let her drag me before my legs started moving. I guess this combination of factors led my right knee to great confusion, because it simply gave out on me.

I tumbled to the asphalt, my purse went flying three feet to my left....and cue: oncoming traffic. My aunt always, always tells people, "If you ever fall in front of me, do not count on me to help you up because I will be too busy laughing hysterically." Um, she wasn't kidding. I had to quickly shove my various cosmetics, sunglasses, wallet, cellphone, and God-knows-what-else back into my purse while attempting to get up without getting pummeled by a Miami driver.

The worst part was we were right in front of the theatre. This means a lot of our fellow audience members witnessed the entire debacle. While I was purchasing drinks, while I was in the bathroom and while I was trying to find my seat, I had people asking me, "Are you OK? We saw you fall. That looked awful."

Sheer and utter embarrassment.

The video that made me sob but inspired me to become a vegetarian

I've always yearned for the will to become a vegetarian, but being the food-lover I am, I've never even tried. But I'm a huge animal lover, so I've also felt hypocritical about the fact that I eat meat. Today I went on the PETA website and started clicking around. I frequently receive their emails, but I'm embarrassed to admit - I usually delete the messages before even opening. It's not because I don't care or feel I have more important things to do with my time. It's because I'm a wimp. It breaks my heart to read detailed accounts about how circuses beat their elephants or how monkeys kept in labs go insane. I know it happens, but I can't bear to know every gory detail.

I don't know what possessed me today, but I sat through a 12:34 extremely disturbing and graphic video on the PETA website that detailed everything that happens to chickens, cattle, cows and pigs across America. Needless to say, I sobbed through the entire thing. There were some especially gruesome parts that made me cover my eyes, but I forced myself to open my eyes and watch.

No, I'm not a masochist. But I needed a big push toward doing something I believe I should have done a long time ago.

I know this is going to be hard for me, and I pray that I can succeed, but starting today -- I will not be eating meat. After some time has passed, I plan to also eliminate poultry. Wish me luck.

That noble title teacher. It's mine. And I'm damn proud.

This woman is my new hero. The face of education in Florida is changing: rapidly, scarily and to the detriment of us all.

I am a teacher in Florida.

I rise before dawn each day and find myself nestled in my classroom hours before the morning commute is in full swing in downtown Orlando. I scour the web along with countless other resources to create meaningful learning experiences for my 24 students each day. I reflect on the successes of lessons taught and re-work ideas until I feel confident that they will meet the needs of my diverse learners. I have finished my third cup of coffee in my classroom before the business world has stirred. My contracted hours begin at 7:30 and end at 3:00. As the sun sets around me and people are beginning to enjoy their dinner, I lock my classroom door, having worked 4 hours unpaid.

I am a teacher in Florida.

I greet the smiling faces of my students and am reminded anew of their challenges, struggles, successes, failures, quirks, and needs. I review their 504s, their IEPs, their PMPs, their histories trying to reach them from every angle possible. They come in hungry—I feed them. They come in angry—I counsel them. They come in defeated—I encourage them. And this is all before the bell rings.

I am a teacher in Florida.

I am told that every student in my realm must score on or above grade level on the FCAT each year. Never mind their learning discrepancies, their unstable home lives, their prior learning experiences. In the spring, they are all assessed with one measure and if they don’t fit, I have failed. Students walk through my doors reading at a second grade level and by year’s end can independently read and comprehend early 4th grade texts, but this is no matter. One of my students has already missed 30 school days this year, but that is overlooked. If they don’t perform well on this ONE test in early March, their learning gains are irrelevant. They didn’t learn enough. They didn’t grow enough. I failed them. In the three months that remain in the school year after this test, I am expected to begin teaching 5th grade curriculum to my 4th grade students so that they are prepared for next year’s test.

I am a teacher in Florida.

I am expected to create a culture of students who will go on to become the leaders of our world. When they exit my classroom, they should be fully equipped to compete academically on a global scale. They must be exposed to different worldviews and diverse perspectives, and yet, most of my students have never left Sanford, Florida. Field trips are now frivolous. I must provide new learning opportunities for them without leaving the four walls of our classroom. So I plan. I generate new ways to expose them to life beyond their neighborhoods through online exploration and digital field trips. I stay up past The Tonight Show to put together a unit that will allow them to experience St. Augustine without getting on a bus. I spend weekends taking pictures and creating a virtual world for them to experience, since the State has determined it is no longer worthwhile for them to explore reality. Yes. My students must be prepared to work within diverse communities, and yet they are not afforded the right to ever experience life beyond their own town.

I am a teacher in Florida.

I accepted a lower salary with the promise of a small increase for every year taught. I watched my friends with less education than me sign on for six figure jobs while I embraced my $28k starting salary. I was assured as I signed my contract that although it was meager to start, my salary would consistently grow each year. That promise has been broken. I’m still working with a meager salary, and the steps that were contracted to me when I accepted a lower salary are now deemed "unnecessary."

I am a teacher in Florida.

I spent $2500 in my first year alone to outfit an empty room so that it would promote creative thinking and a desire to learn and explore. I now average between $1000-2000 that I pay personally to supplement the learning experiences that take place in my classroom. I print at home on my personal printer and have burned through 12 ink cartridges this school year alone. I purchase the school supplies my students do not have. I buy authentic literature so my students can be exposed to authors and worlds beyond their textbooks. I am required to teach Social Studies and Writing without any curriculum/materials provided, so I purchase them myself. I am required to conduct Science lab without Science materials, so I buy those, too. The budgeting process has determined that copies of classroom materials are too costly, so I resort to paying for my copies at Staples, refusing to compromise my students’ education because high-ranking officials are making inappropriate cuts. It is February, and my entire class is out of glue sticks. Since I have already spent the $74 allotted to me for warehouse supplies, if I don’t buy more, we will not have glue for the remainder of the year. The projects I dream up are limited by the incomprehensible lack of financial support. I am expected to inspire my students to become lifelong learners, and yet we don’t have the resources needed to nurture their natural sense of wonder if I don’t purchase them myself. My meager earning is now pathetic after the expenses that come with teaching effectively.

I am a teacher in Florida.

The government has scolded me for failing to prepare my students to compete in thistechnologically driven world. Students in Japan are much more equipped to think progressively with regards to technology. Each day, I turn on the two computers afforded me and pray for a miracle. I apply for grants to gain new access to technology and compete with thousands of other teachers who are hoping for the same opportunity. I battle for the right to use the computer lab and feel fortunate if my students get to see it once a week. Why don’t they know how to use technology? The system’s budget refuses to include adequate technology in classrooms; instead, we are continually told that dry erase boards and overhead projectors are more than enough.

I am a teacher in Florida.

I am expected to differentiate my instruction to meet the needs of my 24 learners. Their IQs span 65 points, and I must account for every shade of gray. I must challenge those above grade level, and I must remediate those below. I am but one person within the classroom, but I must meet the needs of every learner. I generate alternate assessments to accommodate for these differences. My higher math students receive challenge work, and my lower math students receive one-on-one instruction. I create most of these resources myself, after-hours and on weekends. I print these resources so that every child in my room has access to the same knowledge, delivered at their specific level. Yesterday, the school printer that I share with another teacher ran out of ink. Now I must either purchase a new ink cartridge for $120, or I cannot print anything from my computer for the remainder of the year. What choice am I left with?

I am a teacher in Florida.

I went to school at one of the best universities in the country and completed undergraduate and graduate programs in Education. I am a master of my craft. I know what effective teaching entails, and I know how to manage the curriculum and needs of the diverse learners in my full inclusion classroom. I graduated at the top of my class and entered my first year of teaching confident and equipped to teach effectively. Sadly, I am now being micro-managed, with my instruction dictated to me. I am expected to mold "out-of-the-box" thinkers while I am forced to stay within the lines of the instructional plans mandated by policy-makers. I am told what I am to teach and when, regardless of the makeup of my students, by decision-makers far away from my classroom or even my school. The message comes in loud and clear that a group of people in business suits can more effectively determine how to provide exemplary instruction than I can. My expertise is waved away, disregarded, and overlooked. I am treated like a day-laborer, required to follow the steps mapped out for me, rather than blaze a trail that I deem more appropriate and effective for my students—students these decision-makers have never met.

I am a teacher in Florida.

I am overworked, underpaid, and unappreciated by most. I spend my weekends, my vacations, and my summers preparing for school, and I constantly work to improve my teaching to meet the needs of my students. I am being required to do more and more, and I’m being compensated less and less.I am a teacher in Florida, not for the pay or the hardships, the disregard or the disrespect; I am a teacher in Florida because I am given the chance to change lives for the good, to educate and elevate the minds and hearts of my students, and to show them that success comes in all shapes and sizes, both in the classroom and in the community.I am a teacher in Florida today, but as I watch many of my incredible, devoted coworkers being forced out of the profession as a matter of survival, I wonder: How long will I be able to remain a teacher in Florida?

-Jamee Cagle Miller

I'm a middle school teacher, as my loyal readers (all four of you, lol) know. I'm teaching Language Arts this year, which I'm positively thrilled about. In all of my classes, we start with a journal topic. As I take attendance and tie up loose ends, the kids are at their desks responding to the journal topic. The topic varies, of course, from day to day. Last week I had a journal topic up for them, which was courtesy of my friend :) and department head, which inspired me to join the kids and write my personal response. Here is the topic along with my response.

It would be nice to visit places around the world. Imagine you could go anywhere in the world, at any time in the past or future. Where and to what time would you go? What would you want to see, and whom would you want to meet? Explain.

I’ve heard amazing stories from my grandmother, Abuela Pachy. Actually, her real name is America. When she was born, her father named her after, “El mejor país del mundo – Los estados unidos de America.” If I could visit any place in the world during any time period, I would visit Cuba in the 1930s. Specifically, I’d visit Puerto Padre, the small, sleepy beach town where my grandparents grew up next door to each other and fell in love. My grandfather was eight years older than my grandmother. He fell in love with her when she was just a girl of 14. My great-grandfather, Puerto Padre’s only attorney, adamantly told her, “You must finish school before you start after any matters of the heart. He’s a nice boy, but he’s too old for you. Besides, focus on school.”

Some kids always obey their parents, and some kids always disobey them. My grandmother fell somewhere in the middle, which is to say she didn’t exactly obey one-hundred percent of the time. To illustrate, girls were not to ride bicycles back in those days, but she would steal one of her two older brothers’ bikes – Ramiro or Victor – when her dad was working in his office and her mom was toiling away at the kitchen stove. But when her father said, “No boys allowed,” even she knew it was best to obey.

Years went by, and finally! She felt it was time to ask again. Besides, her cousin told her she’d better hurry because there was talk around the town that he was engaged to another woman. "Ponte la pilas!" her cousin warned her. My grandmother couldn’t believe it! She was already in her early 20s and dared to ask her father. He acquiesced. They were engaged almost immediately, my grandfather had proved himself to my great-grandfather through all the years. My grandmother was the girl my grandfather had been waiting for his entire life.

The wedding was beautiful, as I've learned through plenty 8x10 black and white photos. I rifle through my grandparents’ closet and look at the white photo albums they’re carefully stored in, my organized and clever Aunt Lissette’s idea. I always select the album that contains their wedding pictures. I sigh in contentment whenever I see true love exists.

My grandfather passed away in December 2008. But I can still feel the love my grandmother has for him, even now that he’s no longer with us, when she so much as talks of him and the way he was. In her heart, she’s still the bold young girl, brimming with bravado, pedaling as fast as her stick-thin legs could take her, racing past his house to see if she could just catch a glimpse of him and his sky-colored eyes. The eyes that contained a whole world of love…just for her.

This past weekend was full of beachy activities. Saturday I went to the beach during the day with Grace, America and Adrienne. I have more pics of all of us on another computer, so I'll update this post later (if I get around to it, crazy week coming up ahead).

Saturday night was my friend Marc's birthday celebration and the C. boy went! Fun times for sure. Happy birthday, Marc! Funniest text exchange on Sunday went a little somethin' like this:

Me:
Hey, Marc! Just wanted to say I hope the rest of your weekend was awesome and thanks for everything. :)

Marc:

I think it was awesome...I don't r. a damn thing!

Then Sunday, I went to the beach (third time in a row in one weekend alone!) with my friend and co-worker Cristy and her two baby girls. They're not really babies, the oldest one is five and her little sister is four. They're the A-dorable and so sweet. More to come, just wanted to do a post that wasn't too deep or nostalgic.

Sometimes it's easy to forget what we expect from our significant other. And sometimes it gets to the point where we realize it's time to cut our losses and move on. But it's incredibly hard, especially if we still love the person and if they aren't a total meanie (sorry, forgive me -- but I teach middle school kids for a living).

I found these questions and comments on oprah.com when I ended a relationship that wasn't meant to be a few years ago. The boy and I are still very close, he was my date to my cousin's wedding Saturday and I know I can ALWAYS count on him. But the ending of our relationship was a long process. It was saying goodbye every couple of months and then reuniting with a pit of fear in our stomachs because we just knew it was simply a matter of time before our next goodbye.

Questions to Ask Yourself When You're Considering the End of a Relationship

1. What do I want?
2. What do I need?
3. What compromises can I live with?
4. Am I willing to make hard choices?

In order to honestly answer these four questions, one must:

• Know yourself.
• Acknowledge obligations.
• Live by your values.

THE BEST DECISIONS COME FROM LOOKING AS DEEPLY INTO YOURSELF AS YOU DO THE RELATIONSHIP.

If you decide to cut your losses...

• Create a vivid, positive vision for your future.
• See it, say it, meditate on it, write it down...

Letting go hurts. But staying once you've decided the relationship is really over means being buried alive. Face your decisions with courage, kindness and a galloping leap of faith because...

joy is waiting.

I told myself I wasn't going to blog while in a way-too-contemplative mood. I logged on and continued telling myself to keep it light and fluffy.

But that wouldn't be real of me. Haven't blogged in quite a bit, so I'd like to keep it real.

I've been thinking about a certain song. Music inspires me; it's my muse. And there's this song by Cheap Trick.

Some lines:

I want you to want me.

I need you to need me.

I'd love you to love me.

I'm beggin' you to beg me.

Didn't I, didn't I, didn't I see you cryin'?

Feelin' all alone without a friend, you know you feel like dyin'.

Here is what the music inspired me to scribble in cursive (pretty cursive, too) on a random notepad.

*When will my love for you run dry?

*When will I have to take off this sudden, newfound blindfold and see for real that hearts are uncontrollable.

OR

-When will you realize it's me who truly understands you, cares for you and loves you?

-When will it all be enough proof for you?

One way or the other, I feel like my heart's about to embark on a ride. It's one of those scarily exhilarating rollercoasters. Buckle up and enjoy the ride? Or scream bloody murder and get off while things are still safe?

One of my "new year's resolutions" (placed inside quotation marks only because I have broken all of my previous ones within days, sometimes within hours of making them) was to do the whole Mass thing on Sundays again.

My parents aren't exactly religious. Both are v. definitely spiritual. Both have read The Secret and like Joel Osteen, lol. (Yeah, I totally went to hear Joel speak at a v. packed arena last year with my mom and her besties.) But my grandmothers were the ones who pushed for them to transfer the older brother and I into Catholic school post-Rockway Elementary.

When I started going to Mass with St. Agatha School on a regular basis (during the school day!), I just found my place; I fell in love with my faith. Later in high school, I joined Campus Ministry and made it to CORE. Think of CORE as the VIPs from Campus Ministry. (I know, how v. elitist of our school, but not in a bad way.) CORE peeps would organize retreats and "encounters." Retreats were one-day and encounters were three days.

I swear, the happiest I've ever been in my life was when I had a million things going on. When I was in CORE, when I was......the President of the English Honor Society and when I had a serious boyfriend. I was always running around like a madwoman. I realize that maybe I was doing too much at once, but I was ecstatic! I volunteered here and there...I was feeding the homeless every Saturday morning in downtown Miami. I just loved life!

Nine years have come and gone. I've been active in my faith, I've taken breaks. I've had serious boyfriends, I've been single (and at times lonely). I've been involved in my career, sometimes I've taken a backseat and let others take the reign.

Point is, I'm happiest when I'm busy. I'm happily busy when I'm doing things that quench all my soul yearns for (and, let's face it, I yearn for a lot). I love going to Mass with my aunt & uncle (they are brother & sister, not husband & wife, btw). I love the fact that I adore my job; I am amazed each day by my middle schoolers and their fresh outlook on Life.

What I'm trying to get at is...happiness is hard to achieve. But it's not impossible. All those quotes about happiness being part of the journey and not the destination...you people, they are true! I'm just now, at 26, starting to realize that the quotes/clichés are true. That's not to say that we have to plaster fake smiles across our faces during the difficult times. And God knows WE ALL face tough times. But it's all about attitude. And we can't allow ourselves to wallow in misery. I've wallowed. And it's gotten me absolutely...nowhere. When I choose to rise above obstacles, whether they are big or small, I always emerge a happier, more positive and, actually, a more spiritual being.

At Mass this morning, the priest (v. electric, v. hyper!) was giving his Homily. It's the second time I hear him speak, and I was so moved. Last Sunday, I was touched to tears. This Sunday, I chuckled at his sense of humor. During the Homily, he refers to the Bible and all, but he wants to relate the Gospel's message to us as modern-day citizens of this world. He said he never understood why painters depict Jesus as a "bearded Brad Pitt." So funny! And true. I would love to really get into his message, but I'll save it for another day.

I didn't mean to get all preachy-preachy, but I did want to blog about something meaningful. And my faith, to me, is meaningful. And if any of you feel the same way, or have ever felt the same way, or want to feel the same way someday...my heart is with you! Don't give up on your faith. (And don't believe in what you parents spoon-fed you just because it's a habit! Venture out and discover whatever works for you.)

Last night I read the blog I posted on Jan. 1. It's a little freaky how, on Jan. 18, things are kind of falling into place for me. I hope that whatever you wished for on Dec. 31 while eating the twelve grapes (was that just my family? lol) comes true!

Now, just for fun:

(Am I going to hell for this? LOL! The Catholic guilt kicks in!)

I rang in 2009 with my dad's side of the family, a much smaller bunch than my mom's. After midnight, we watched Ricky Martin perform a concert in (we think) Puerto Rico and I fell in love with the man. Yes, yes, I know he's gay or bi- or whatever. But that doesn't change the fact that he's gorgeous and talented.

I picked up best friend Natalie at her house and we went to best friend Caryn's sister's house for a party. We got home at 4 a.m. and it wasn't because we were dancing the night away. We just sat around and talked, laughed at a crazy situation regarding a guy who wasn't out of the closet but who was very gay. "Not that there's anything wrong with that." (Seinfeld episode, hilarious.)

Slept at Nat's and we talked for HOURS. (Her parents are in Atlanta and boyfriend Jorge was working.) This is a true miracle for me, seeing as I have been one of those old ladies who falls asleep early ever since high school. We covered everything from ex-boyfriends to current boyfriend (hers), old friends and new friends and everything in between. Nothing warms the heart more than a night of talking with your best friend since kindergarten.

Today we had a late breakfast at my godmother Odi's house. It's been a Jan. 1 tradition in our family for years and I'm glad Nat was able to share it with us this year. It took me a while to convince her because we were both exhausted, but I lured her with the promise of chocolate-chip pancakes, scrambled eggs and ham. (Totally worked.) 

I've been feeling very at peace on this first day of the new year. I am usually worried about something or turmoiled over some circumstance or another that I have no control over. Today (and, of course, I'm not sure how long this will last), I am relishing in this newfound sense of comfort. It's like I know that somehow, things will turn out OK. Not just for me, but for all of my loved ones. Not saying things will be perfect; nothing is. But they'll be OK.

I received excellent news a few hours ago.

I sent a message to my friend Josie on Facebook and asked her if she received the Save the Date for our friend Ani's wedding. Please note that this Save the Date caused me much stress when it came in the mail about a month ago. I don't know if it was because I was PMS-ing or if I opened up the envelope when I was home alone on a Saturday night with a batch of Ghirardelli extra-fudge brownies baking in the oven. It was probably a combination of the two. 

The Save the Date was absolutely gorgeous. So cute and original, and very Ani. I'll scan it later (maybe).  What distressed me to no end was that the wedding is in Vero Beach, which is about three hours away from Miami and it's a whole weekend thing. Forgive me for not being a woman of the millennium, but I could not bring myself to spend a wedding weekend alone. And I love Ani dearly, but not even for her. 

So I proceeded to sob. And sob. And sob some more. And then I texted my mom, who was having a great time at the Hard Rock on, of course, a triple date with her husband and some friends of theirs. 

For your perusal, my ever-dependable BlackBerry still has the messages exchanged in its memory. Here it is:

Me:

I was looking thru the mail and I got the "save the date" for Ani's wedding. It is in April in Vero Beach. It is a "weekend wedding." Please explain to me how I am supposed to partake in this without a proper date? I am depressed.

Mom:

Don't worry. I told you that you will have your man. If not, we will hire someone just like Debra Messing did in that movie. 

We exchanged a few more texts but I'll leave it at that. 

As those of you who are single or have been single during a wedding, you feel my pain. If it would have been a typical wedding at a church and then a reception, I would've just gone through it. I would've been feeling very awkward, but I would've gone alone. But as I said, it's not here in Miami. I'm not going to drive three hours to then drive another three hours back home after the wedding. Another option would be to book a night at the resort, but I am NOT going to sleep in some beautiful resort on the beach alone. NO.

Back to the Facebook message and Josie.

Josie immediately sends me a text saying, and here is where I received the great news, that her boyfriend was going to be on a business trip in China that weekend and that she was probably going alone. Selfishly, I reply "That is perfect!" Of course, this was not the right thing to reply with because I'm sure Josie would've much preferred to go on a weekend beach getaway with her boyfriend. So Josie being Josie agrees to make a girls' weekend out of it and says we can be like Cameron Diaz and Christina Applegate in The Sweetest Thing (love that movie!). I told her we could only if she promised me that we'd wear brightly colored taffeta, just like they did in the movie. 

So my trauma regarding Ani's wedding has been solved! Not by finding a great date, mind you, but by averting that situation altogether.

2009 is days away and I'm hoping it brings us all wonderful things: new experiences, hearts full of love and Sex & the City II. 

I'm debating as to whether I should post a picture of me. Some bloggers do it, others don't. The only thing that's holding me back is the fact that I am a teacher and I wouldn't want my students (or their parents) "inside my head." I will be blogging about my students' antics and I'm not sure if it would be wise to include a picture. 

I created a blog a few years ago and promptly ignored it. I re-discovered it after I read a high school friend's blog, chuckled to myself at her stories and linked about until I got to a hilarious blog from a random Sarah girl who lives in Cleveland. 

Sarah cracked me up with her wittiness and kooky stories about her friends. And she reminded me of an old friend, someone whom I'd lost touch with over a silly misunderstanding. So Sarah from Cleveland inspired me to reach out to the old friend and, as her and I say, "we're back together."

Who knew a stranger's blog could reunite a grand friendship?

I've always wanted a blog. I just wasn't sure if I'd have enough interesting things to say on a frequent basis. That was so silly of me. This blog will probably be a salvation for my boyfriend, friends and family. Because, let's face it, I talk a bit much.

What changed my mind about blogging? It was totally myspace. I started blogging on that site in December and I am addicted. I wish I had more time to shoot the shit (with myself?). But I don't. However, the few blogs I did get around to writing were heavily hit! Myspace allows you to see how many views your blogs get. In one day, I got over 80 on one blog about God-knows-what! With blogger, I won't know who's reading (will I?). But my chances of getting feedback will increase in a blog community, whereas myspace is a meat market. Or an undercover dating site, as my brother says. C'mon, you know it is.

I think it's because I'm a decent writer, I am laugh-out-loud funny (most of the time) and I have lots of importantly frivolous things on my mind.