TGIF

Today was the last day of the semester. Need I say more?

I worked through my day, made sure that all is ready for testing on Tuesday (nice alliteration there) and left early to pick up Little Squid and take him to his audition.

The audition, according to Little Squid, went well. He was asked if he was Squidette's brother which, when I think about it, can only help. Hey, if they remembered her from last summer ... And, he thinks he played well. Time will tell.

This was not for NYSSMA but was for the Manhattan School of Music summer program. The same program that Squidette was in last summer. She had a wonderful time and grew and matured so much that I barely recognized her at the end of the summer despite seeing her every day.

To unwind from the rigors of the week, I spent much time this evening surfing Etsy and wound up splurging on lots of handmade stitch markers. I really wanted a yarn crawl but recognized that I still have more yarn then I can realistically knit through in a couple of years and limited storage space. Stitch markers are small and relatively inexpensive. I'll show them off once they arrive.

Now on to a 3 day weekend. Woo Hoo!

Mystery Bruise Unmystified!

Do not try to diagnose the aliment that I outline below -- the answer is in the essay.

For many years I have had a sore spot on my left hip. It only bothers me when I initially snuggle into bed at night, facing my dear husband -- and then only a little. I did wonder about it but, by the time morning rolls around, I forget about it. Periodically, it disappears but I never made the connection between when it disappears and what I am doing in my life at the time. If anything, I associate the lack of soreness with an increase in exercise.

A few weeks ago I suddenly had an "ah ha!" moment and realized why I have that perpetual sore spot. The moment came as I was at work, pushing open a particularly sticky door. With my hip. D'oh!

Yes, all these years I have been using my left hip to assist in opening the sticky, and non-sticky doors at work. And my sore spot? It corresponds directly to the part of my hip that I use to open the door. I repeat -- D'oh! Now, I don't just use my hip to help open the door, I do a quick hip swivel to provide lots of force. Remember your physics? Newton's third law? "For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction." So, if you whup a door with your hip, repeatedly, you will bruise. Especially if you have very little padding on your hip.

Will this stop me? Nah. But is does explain why the spot gets better over the summer!

And those sticky doors? They are becoming fewer in number as Dept. of Ed carpenters quickly replace all of our outside doors. I barreled into a new one yesterday and nearly fell as it opened smoothly and easily. Oops!

Sometimes, I am just a bit slow on the uptake.

Wildlife in the City

There is a new addition to our student body.

Yes, it is a pheasant.
It joins our opossum and the squirrels (as well as the rats and pigeons).
If it is still around on Monday, I will name it.

Why Jeans?

Seems to me that I never did explain why I went to work in jeans yesterday (and today(yes, Saturday)).

See this room?

Imagine it filled -- and I mean FILLED. And by the way, it is twice the size that it appears. There is more room to the right of the machinery.

At the start of the day, this room was full. Every nook and cranny had boxes or old equipment in them. The room is now empty and the contents moved to either the trash or to the vault to age a bit more before they can be shredded.

Then there were the 15 boxes of stuff that got shredded. They came OUT of the vault. (They were sufficiently aged.) And the six boxes of books which were deaccessed (or something like that) from the library. Our custodian arranged for a dumpster for us, a big one. Like the size of an 18 wheeler. It was empty at the start of the day. It was half full at the end of it.

We did a lot. There is still much to do, but every little bit counts. There were eight staff members (not including me) and 25 kids.

Oh and tomorrow? I am going to be VERY sore. Theoretically, the person running the show should not be doing the schlepping but since my style of leadership is "by example," I lifted and tugged at many, many boxes and bags. Basically, non stop movement for 5 hours. I think I got my workout for the day. What do you think?

Anyhow, yesterday I had to do the shopping and set up which involved schlepping dusty boxes and shredders and such. Hence the jeans.

And by the way, I think work make-up adds 10 years to my face when worn with jeans. I may have to rethink the face next year. (Or lighten the lipstick.)

Jeans

I wore jeans to work today.

Got your jaw back in your head?

O.k., I know that most of you do not realize that it has been YEARS since I have worn jeans to work. I think the last time I did it was before Squidette was born.

Over the years, my working wardrobe has slowly gotten more and more formal to the point where I almost wish I had enough suits to wear one every day. The older I get, the less I want to be casual in my work place. There is a certain distance I want to have between me and the kids, and me and my staff.

Why? Because I find that when students get too comfortable with a teacher, they assume that they can do things that are not allowed, like whip out a cell phone or assume privileges to which they are not entitled. Yes, even my knitters eventually reach this point. That said, it only takes a look to return things, with a smile, to their proper order.

When I first became an Assistant Principal, it bothered me that teachers and support staff would call me Mrs. Squid. While we are a "traditional" school and use Mr and Ms with the students, we do call each other by our first names if not in the presence of kids. Over the years, though, it has become normal to just call everyone Mr and Ms and only use first names occasionally. While I miss the camaraderie that first names imply, I only rarely mind the formality that Mr and Ms imply. After 16 years I have very few personal friends in the school and with those I use Mr and Ms almost teasingly.

Interesting, I meant this to be an explanation of why I wore jeans and instead wound up reflecting on the place of formality in a school setting. Hm ...

So what are your feelings regarding how dress governs attitude? (Oh, and I did were full "work" make up and a school T shirt over a turtleneck to make a "uniform"despite the jeans. And shiney earrings that Squidette gave me, for a little "bling.")

Toxic Waste

Yup, that's been my job for the last couple of weeks. Dealing with the fall out of a sensationalistic news report about my school. Today was the big day, with all sorts of experts coming to talk to and answer questions from parents and staff. Frankly, I'm wiped. I arranged and organized all three meetings today and only got home a short while ago. If I were the kind of person to take a mental health day, tomorrow would be it. But I can't. I've got the knitting kids to think of. And, oh yeah, I have the usual schlepage of my own kids to school, the weekly meal out with the elder child and the wait while she does her Bat Mitzvah training stuff. So, no day off. And it is only a four day week. Followed by a three day week next week!

And, I had parent-teacher conferences with Little Squid's teacher. All in the same day.

I did managed to finish a pair of socks for Mike so at least something tangible got done.

***

As an aside ...

Why is it that people distrust experts? Why do they not want to believe that we are all on the same side? And why won't they believe me when I say that we have more serious problems then the relatively stable toxic waste beneath our school? Or am I being naive in believing the experts and everyone else is right?

Blue Cards

A quick google shows that the term "blue card" is used for many, many different reasons, including immigration. If immigration is why you came to my blog -- sorry for the disappointment. My blue card is endemic to the New York City public schools.This "little" card is the most important repository of emergency information in our school system. On to it goes everything school staff needs to know about a student in the event that they need to contact an adult. On the back is a place to tell the school what to do if none of the people listed on the card cannot be contacted. (I always write "use your best judgment.")

When I was a kid, and up to about two years ago in my own school, a parent had to complete 3 cards for every kid. One set of cards went in the main office, one to the school nurse and one to the deans. Basic contact information was easy to obtain. These days our school just collects one and photocopies it. (We actually make our own blue "form" with all the information and then some on one side of a letter size sheet of paper.) Why? Because getting all three of them back is difficult.

But, I hear you thinking, why can't you just look it up in the school computer? Well, we could but half the time the parent/guardian phone number is incorrect because the student has moved and failed to update the school on the situation. So, we depend on blue cards and pray that the information on them is correct. Sometimes it isn't. Wiley high school students will fill them out with false information leaving us grasping at straws when we have to find their parents or another responsible adult. Others, just fail to return them, usually intentionally, leaving the end result the same is in the preceding instance.

I had to fill out one of these for each of my kids this year, something I don't always have to do for some strange reason. Despite the blue card, however, I also had to correct or enter my address on three other documents for Little Squid's school -- for some reason they still had an old address despite my changing it two years ago and my kid being fully registered for a metrocard, something that would not happen if the Department of education computer system had the wrong address.

Basically, my take on these administrative forms? Blue Cards good, no blue cards bad.

Fire Drills

It at this time of the school year that I start contemplating the first fire drill of the year. Ideally, fire drills should be spur of the moment, unannounced and randomly staggered throughout the day and year. In reality, fire drills are often planned, spur of the moment, for sunny, relatively warm days, though an overcast, relatively warm (55 degrees or more) day will do. In other words, today is probably a good day for our first fire drill.

Today's drill (assuming it happens) will be semi-announced. Since 2001 we have chosen to warn the building occupants that the first one is coming just to avoid panic that might ensue so close to the 9/11 anniversary. So, during morning announcements, I will mention that a fire drill is coming and later in the day, pull the bells. The next 11 drills will be totally unannounced as is NYC protocol.

Do fire drills do any good? Absolutely! I admit to being a strong proponent of the fire drill. Knowing how to get out and away from the building is very important. When going on about a fire drill I am apt to bring up that day six years ago when Mike's school evacuated and ran for their lives. Or, our own school fire just two years ago which blackened just a single classroom. (Says something for 1941 construction techniques.) On that occasion, the reality of the even brought out the training from the drills and everyone got out and was kept safe.

Fire drills are supposed to be silent. I am not really concerned so much about that as long as everyone is getting out and staying with their teachers. Staying together is far more important. Given as these students were all brought up in the wake of the World Trade Center tragedy, they are a bit more cooperative then pre-9/11 kids. Unfortunately, it really does make a difference.

Now I think it is time to go to work and run a fire drill.

The Red Pen

Another misunderstood and often maligned implement of teaching, the red pen and its counterpart, the red pencil, are a vital item in many educator's tool boxes.

Used for comments and for grading, many feel that the color evokes negative reactions in our students and may even cause them to turn off from the activity that we are encouraging in our assignments. Red, they say, is the color of anger and warning and should not be used on impressionable minds. Papers covered in red colored comments are alarming and the student will probably not read those comments.

Early in my career I bought this line of reasoning and invested heavily in turquoise, lime green and violet pens. My graded papers were a multi colored wonder -- especially when I started grading a paper at work and finished at home. In a different color pen. After a few years of this I realized why teachers have used red for generation upon generation. It is simply easier to see and distinguish from the surrounding text. When it comes to marking a test, a student is less likely to claim their paper was mismarked if you use red to point out the mistake. And frankly, the kid who wouldn't read the comments in red is unlikely to read them in purple. And does ink color really take the sting out of a failing grade? Or add to the thrill of a "100?"

These days, on the rare occasions that I mark papers, I do so in whatever pen or pencil I have handy. Except for tests. Those I grade in good, old fashioned, red. If it's nearby.

***

Some family input here ... Squidette feels that red is more dominant over the blue or black that she uses to write her papers. When asked if comments in red make her nervous, the answer was "yes." When asked if comments in other colors make her nervous, the answer was ... "yes." Papa Squid, when asked what color he grades papers in, responded "whatever color is in the nearest pen."

Trends in Seating

Follow the links if you want to see what I am talking about.

***

When I was in high school many, nay most, of the classrooms in our 80 year old building still had the original desks. I always found these to be really cool and loved being in rooms with them despite the fact that the desks were made for a smaller generation. Notice the cutout for an inkwell in in upper right corner. Back in my dad's day, some of them still had the glass inkwell in them.

Fast forward many years to the start of my own teaching career. My school still had a few rooms of the original furniture but most rooms had desks that looked like this (the one on the right). The benefit of these desks is that they were separate from the chairs and larger students were more comfortable. They could also be moved around for group work or (cooperative learning as the buzz word was back in my day). The draw back was that the pocket under the table top served as a depository for all sorts of garbage. Literally. My last class of the day quickly got into the habit of "dumping" a third of the desks every Friday and all of them right before a long break. Teachers that did not do this often found themselves faced with a mouse jumping out at a kid during class. Eek!

Then the trend turned toward the tablet type of desk (scroll down) because they did not have the garbage-collecting pockets. We buy the big ones but the smaller ones allow for many more kids in a room or, conversely, more room to move around with the same number of kids. The smaller ones, however are really not practical for spreading out papers and such so we have divested our selves of the few we had. Tablet desks are movable but not great for group work. They all have a slight slant to them and are awkward to put together to make larger surfaces. The final drawback is that, like the original fixed desks, they have limited room for the larger student.

It has been part of my job over the last few years to replace the remaining pocket desks with big tablet desks. Just when I was about to complete the conversion (this is done over many years due to the cost of the desks) the trend changed again. Last spring I was asked to order two types of tables. The first is totally new to our school -- the "kidney bean." I remember sitting at a table like this in my "open classroom" in third grade. They are good for group work but I have my concerns about them for testing. The second is a standard table and is multi-functional. Put two together and you have a square with seating for 8. Line them up and make corners and you have a hollow square or a "U" or an "L." Again, not great for testing but not too bad and they have a lot of possibilities. Personally, I like these better then the tablet desks.

What will the next trend be in seating? Will we start hanging the kids from the ceiling or turning them on their sides? Who knows? Only time will tell.

On Chalk

Chalk has become the much maligned stepchild of the teaching world. Outshone first by white boards, then overhead projectors and now Smartboards, the use of chalk in schools is decreasing with alarming rapidity.

When I first became an Assistant Principal in 1999, our stockman informed me that we had plenty of chalk and I would not have to order for quite a while. I figured that he meant that my predecessor had spent out a surplus one year and that we had a year or two worth of chalk stashed away. In the Spring, I asked again and was once again assured that we had plenty of chalk.

A case of chalk

Fast forward to 2007. I had to know. I asked for the whole, dusty, story. Apparently, when our stockman took his job, 26 years ago, the chalk was already there. Some long ago APO (my position) had likely invested the last of the closing school's budget in chalk. Maybe it was meant as a joke for the incoming school or, maybe it was meant as a present. Whatever the reason, they bought a whole lot of it.

A box of chalk -- 144 pieces are inside in 12 smaller boxes

Yesterday I asked our stockman to count the number of cases remaining in his "chalkroom." There are 12 cases and we go through about 2-3 cases a year. That means, yes, I did the math, that at current usage rates we have 4-6 years worth of chalk. I have not purchased white chalk for the school -- ever (I've purchased plenty of colored chalk). Given the decreasing rate of usage, I may never buy chalk. When I do, apparently I will have to do some chalk previews first, because I am told that modern chalk is inferior to our 26 year old chalk. On the rare occasions that some new chalk has come into the building (occasionally another AP does not believe that we have plenty of chalk) the newer stuff is found to be a poor cousin to the old "dustless" chalk.

Chalk, and chalkboards -- be the black, green or brown -- are a wonderful way to communicate ideas. You can scrawl a diagram on a board, add to it, subtract from it (with the assistance of an eraser) and bring to life an abstract idea. For notes that are going up on the board, period after period, I admit that an overhead or computer is the way to go but for diagrams, chalk can't be beat. Add the colored stuff and I'm in heaven! Yes, I taught biology and loved my diagrams. I had overheads with layers that worked wonders but nothing beats seeing the strokes a teacher is using in order for a student to reliably recreate the diagram in their own note book. Why not use a hand out? Because the physical action of drawing the diagram helps the student retain it in their memory. Yes, I really believe this. It is how I learn so there are others out there who learn the same way. A static drawing is just not the same. Yes, some kids are not artists -- hey, neither am I. I was always happy to furnish a copy for them but no one ever took me up on the offer.

I understand the demise of chalk and I will miss it when it is gone. Like rexographs, mimeographs and thermofaxes, chalk in a classroom will eventually be obsolete, replaced by all sorts of technological doodads. And when they break ... how will we cope?

***
Delaney Card
Delaney BookDelaney book pages

Squid Awake

I've got back to school jitters tonight. Interesting since I returned to work on Monday but the teachers come back tomorrow so that is probably the source of my insomnia.

There is an addendum to yesterday's post -- the 2:30 a.m. mass at St. Andrew's Church (RC) was called the Printer's Mass because it was held after the newspapers finished printing for the night. The printers were then able to attend mass before heading home from work. St. Andrew's also held a noon mass (I do not know if this is common now but apparently it wasn't back then). The noon mass was to accommodate the working people on their lunch break and was apparently very popular.

One last note before I try to knit myself into a state where I can sleep -- the contest closes at the end of the day on Friday, August 31. Get your entries in while you can! Yes, this does leave you guessing as to what we will do on the upcoming long weekend. Deal with it.

Papa Squid, Squidette and one of the many Uncle Squid. Notice how grown up Squidette has become. Sniff.

Que Serra Serra

After work today, I rushed downtown to meet the rest of the family at MOMA. Friday evenings are free so we decided that this would be a nice way to kick off the summer.Currently on display are the works of Richard Serra -- HUGE pieces of steel that defy imagination. Some of them I found really cool, like this one above and below, others made me wonder "why?"After getting our fill of Picasso, Mondrian, Kandinsky and others, we headed home. First, however, a stop at Myzel's where I met Camilla and got to purchase and eat some amazing chocolate. We chatted about art -- she agreed with us regarding certain works -- and made a new friend. If you are ever in the area, a visit here is a must. It is a small, family owned business and we will certainly do our best to keep them in business if we can figure out a way to ride there safely. (Camilla explained why Elk Candy went out of business. It is a sad story.)Heading home, we passed City Center and I got to show off my knowledge of its history as a Masonic Temple. The bottom picture shows a glimpse of its terra cotta covered dome. Not a pterodactyl covered dome. I read about this recently in a work of fiction and was amazed when I looked into its history. My pictures do not do the building justice. It is really lovely to look at.Now we are whiling away the evening and I am trying to get into vacation mode. Sadly, I forgot to do something, so I do have to swing by the school on Monday to finish up. Only about 5 minutes should be spent inside, so no big deal even tho I did obsess about it for most of the evening. And no, we do not have a new principal yet.

The End is Near!

Last day for students and teachers today! Yea!!! I still have Thursday and Friday to clean up the bits and pieces that need to be squared away. Interesting how there is always more to be done then you think there is.

I've been up since 3:30 and am wired. I'm so wired that I knit an entire sock toe in the near dark -- by the light of my laptop. Now I am working on the heel flap to a sock I started too long ago to be considered a part of Summer of Socks. There will, however, be pictures later of my first finished pair for SOS.

Yesterday was kind of sad. At our end-of-year meeting, the usual departures were announced including the retirement of a woman who means a whole lot to me. Ms. W (not her real initial) took me under her wing when I started teaching and educated me in what it means to be a teacher. When you look up the words "model teacher," you'll find her picture. For the lasts 35 years students have passed through her classrooms and have emerged not only with a greater understanding of Biology, but with a greater understanding of life. Her standards were high and her students lived up to them because to not do so would be wrong. She has spent her entire adult life learning and teaching and those of us who have benefited from her wisdom will miss her.

Ms. W received a standing ovation from the faculty -- one that went on and on and on. And she i s worth every clap.

The End is In Sight

You know the end of the school year is approaching when:

• You look at the last set of concert tickets after your babysitter has canceled and don't start looking for a replacement sitter. Just too tired.
• Camp packets arrive (one with sheet music, one without)
• Religious school report cards arrive ("It's been a pleasure getting to know her not only as a student but as as committed musician and cyclist." and "I will truly miss him.")
• A certain Squidling starts thinking about the decorations on her birthday cake.

and our number one reason ...

• You can now use your fingers to count down to the end! 10 more days for me and 8 for the rest of them!

Saga of the Squirrel Bird

The new windows in school are great! They have more glass per square inch and less sashing overall. They are also relatively clean. It is this vast expanse of clean glass that led to a recent problem in the library.

***

Happily, I was minding my own business, and harassing young people about dress code, when I was hailed by a student. "Mrs. Squid, Ms. X needs you right now. There's a bird in the library."

I glance at the kid and think to myself "what am I supposed to do about it?"

Entering the library, I look around and see no sign of a bird. From past experience I know that they do tend to leave signs once trapped in a room. No such items greeted me here.

Having located Ms. X, I am guided to the bird. It is hovering at the top of a window, trying to get out.

At this point I must interrupt this tale to explain that the Library is an open space two stories in height with windows that start about 6 feet off the ground and go all the way up the the ceiling 20 or more feet above their start. They are big. And, they do not open from the top but rather open in the middle. This leaves the bottom and top rows of window panes solidly in place and immovable.


Not 2 feet below the bird is an open window. He cannot, however, seem to find it.

I calmly assess the situation and reach for a window pole. What I intend to do with this item is beyond me. Poking the bird seems to be a good idea. If I poke it, maybe it will fly elsewhere and discover the half dozen open windows in the room.

Hmm ... it's too high. Let's climb on a desk. Ah, much better. Poke. Poke.

At this point you must imagine the bird getting annoyed and flying off. To the top of another window. Across the room.

Off I traipse after it with a few young people in tow. Up on another table I repeat the poking.

Flit -- off to another window he goes. All of a sudden the bird sees a passing flock of ... you guessed it ... birds. He tries to join them but the window glass gets in the way. Poor bird.

Move another desk.

Poke. Poke.

Flit.

Wait! Is there another window pole in the room? Yes? If one person pokes the bird, the other can try to direct it to an open window.

Sounds good to us.

Poke. Poke.

Stupid bird flies to the one window in the room that lacks the ability to open.

Move another desk.

Poke. Poke.

The bird falls. Awww ...

Young man hoists himself up on to the window ledge and grabs the bird. Umm ... how is he going to get down with a bird in his hands?

Second young man hops up on the table and grabs the bird, first young man lowers himself to the floor and takes the bird from the second young man shouting "close all the windows."

Um ... 90 degree day ... nope, not going to happen.

First young man shows the bird around and makes a hasty exit from the back door to the sidewalk below. He looks around a bit and decides that it is too close to the school. Running off, he finally releases the bird into a nearby city park.

You can't make this stuff up.

And on into Testing

What do you get when you take two stressed out Assistant Principals and attempt to do simple math? A brief panic and a lot of laughter.

After my, relatively, minor issues with the advanced placement exams, I made sure to double and triple check our orders for the Regents exams. Every AP confirmed that I had, indeed, over ordered for every exam. So, why was it that the head of one department and I had a brief moment of panic yesterday?

Follow this conversation and watch where we went wrong ...

"How many rooms do I have for this afternoon's exam?"

A quick check (I have not memorized this data) reveals 19 rooms, each with the appropriate proctor assigned. "Phew" is the response,"it was looking like we needed more rooms."

"Well," I shot back in a sudden burst of fear "lets double check the exam numbers, just in case. I know there are 24 packets of exams in the boxes in the vault -- I doubled checked them just a few minutes ago.

You have 19 rooms. 19 rooms at 25 exams per packet is 475 exams. How many kids are registered?"

"498"

Gulp. "Can you double check that? How many kids per room?"

"About 28."

"Let's see, 475 divided by 28 gives us 17 rooms ..."

Yes, dear reader, you can see that I was very much impaired at this point. My counter part and I panicked for a while and prayed for absentees.

About half an hour later my brain finally kicked me in the rear and shot out "Idiot. 24 packets of exams times 25 exams per packet is 600 exams." Oops. More than enough for our 498 students plus some to spare for another school that did under order.

Only 11 more exam periods to panic over ...

Tired but Happy

My feet hurt. Has something to do with last days at school and constant patrols / events. Yes, even at 6 a.m., my feet and legs are still aching. And today is *really* the last day.

What makes a school administrator happy on the first of two *last* days of school? Rain at dismissal!!! Yea!!! No chance for last minute, well intentioned, hijinx when you are dodging raindrops the size of tea cups. Now if it will only do that again today at about 11:44 when we finally dismiss for the year. (Exams start this afternoon.)

I discovered that I have power in my gaze. Just a glance will get a kid to: take off a hat, cover a too skimpy top and put away a forbidden device. Makes me smile to be able to do that -- then they get confused as to why I am smiling at them.

You know what else makes me smile? My two most loyal knitters showing up for one last gabfest yesterday afternoon. Love those kids!

All this smiling makes half my face ache. Just the real, full face smiles. The fake smiles just invoke stiffness -- stiff smiles, stiff face, makes sense.

You know what else makes me smile? The fact that I have two great kids of my own -- who will never have to be told to put away their cell phones and who will hopefully never get so drunk that they pass out in the park on the last day of school. That just makes me cry.

Messing With Their Minds

I'm messing with the minds of my staff today.

There was no intention of doing so when I chose what to wear this morning, but the result will be the same.

You see, a few weeks ago my Principal announced that she was taking another job, a promotion. The very next day, her position was posted on the DOE website and tonight the in-school committee interviews her possible successors. The identities of the candidates are secret.

Last week I had the privilege of giving each candidate a tour of the building. While I did so, the curious poked their heads out of classrooms and made snap appraisals. It got kind of silly from my perspective and I was tempted to parade random people around the building just for the mind-mess. (I didn't.) Today's suit, however is another story.

I am not one of the candidates. By choice. Didn't even open the on-line application -- just checked to make sure it was really there. Today, however, I am wearing my "cute" suit. How many people are going to think that I've been lying to them, that I really am interviewing tonight?

The suit, by the way, is because I am presiding over an induction ceremony tonight and want to look professional for the parents. I will not even be in the building when the committee convenes.

Time to start the week.

Prom NIght!

In 1984 the Senior Prom was not even a blip on my radar. I disliked parties and had no intention of going. It helped that I was not invited and did not hang out with the "prom crowd."

I discovered last night that my high school, now at least, does not have a "prom crowd" per se. 600 kids from a graduating class of 750 is a HUGE number of kids to have at a prom. At least from my limited prom going experience. There were 62 tables and only 3 of them held staff and spouses.

***

To kick off the evening, Mike first called my parents to ask permission. After throughly interrogating him as to his intentions, they granted it.

We primped (or at least I did, Mike forgot to shave) and had our oldest child take a photo since there was no parent available to do it.We then hopped aboard our limo and rode in airconditioned comfort to the Prom.Stuyvesant High School, as the elite school that it is, insists on having the Prom at the Waldorf=Astoria (yes, the equal sign is correct).
The Waldorf=Astoria is directly across the street and in direct juxtaposition with the slightly less expensive Intercontinental -- the site of our nuptual celebration many years ago.Once inside we were given our instructions (Mike was working, after all) and posed for yet another picture.


There are plenty of pictures of lovely looking, tastefully dress students but I cannot post them. I'm sure you understand. When one of the kids puts the pictures up on the school website, I will link to it.

I did stalk our babysitter a bit. She was lovely and her date was adorable. I even caught her on the dance floor once or twice.

Mike and I danced and one of his colleagues did a credible Michael Jackson imitation of the dance floor. We posed for a formal portrait (got to give it to the folks!) and finally left around midnight. Our limo home was of the more conventional yellow variety.

After sending our backup babysitter home, we tumbled into bed where ... oh, get your minds out of the gutter! It was late and we are married, we went to sleep! He did kiss me on the dance floor, however.
And there you have it. My first Prom. We are thinking that Mike may try to get invited again since we did have fun. I might even start attending my own school's Prom -- tho not this year, my date has to be elsewhere.