Book Review Friday May 30, 2008

So it's been a few weeks since I've written one of these. It's not that I've completely stopped reading. It's just that I've become increasingly lazy and haven't wanted to write anything. I'm trying to step it back up so I don't lose myself in my pity of feeling like I'm going to puke every second of every day. So, I'll start today...which incidently is not a Friday. But, I did finish this book on Thursday and had every intent of writing up a review of it yesterday, but alas...I sat outside most of the day and didn't accomplish much else. Ah...summer.

Book: High School Confidential, Secrets of an Undercover Student
Author: Jeremy Iversen
Pages: 429

I picked this book up at the bargain table one day at Barnes and Noble. It looked promising, though a little voice in the back of my head kept asking "Why on earth would you ever want to go back to high school?" I have met people who enjoyed high school so much they wish they were back there. I venture to say that they merely enjoyed the idea of high school and if they were magically transported back, they'd remember why they left in the first place. I'm not saying, by any means, that my high school experience was the worst experience ever. It was actually quite pleasant. But, having been out for nearly a decade now, I realize that it was not by any stretch of the imagination the best times of my life. With that being said, I was quite intrigued with the idea that someone close to my age was going to re-enter high school and relive the last semester of senior year.

The book starts off with a typical scene from high school prom. Jeremy is there with his girlfriend, Heather, and he's trying to act cool and nonchalant about the whole ordeal. Underneath though, he's had to feed all this information to the person standing next to him that he's never met, but supposedly been dating for the past two years and he's trying hard not to come across as a 24 year old out of place at the senior dance.

And so it all begins. Jeremy is on his way on the "Track", his preordained mission in life when he suddenly panics and begins taking inventory of his life. He flew through a Manhattan boarding high school and left the east coast to go to Stanford, where he was graduating at the top of his class with a double major and destined to join any number of business firms to work his way up to the high ranks in 20 or 30 years. It's at this precise moment that he decides that this isn't what he wants. He wants to live high school in the public school system. So he sets off on this hare-brained idea to enter a Californian public school as a 17 year old and live out the last semester before graduation. He researches potential schools and five months before the start of spring semester sets off to sell the administrations on his idea. It's a week before the start of the semester when he finally gets the okay from the last school on his list and his plan starts to mold together.

To say I was shocked by what Jeremy found at this school would be the understatement of the year. The references to drugs, alcohol and sex was astounding. I knew there was a problem, but I didn't know it was this bad. Mind you, Jeremy worked hard to find the most average high school he could. It wasn't located in a wealthy area, nor in an area of extreme need either. The demographic was a crosspopulation of all different economic, social, and cultural standings with each ethnicity possible being represented.

This was a great and informational read. Iversen starts by immersing himself into the culture and then removes his story. What follows are snippets of the people he became friends with; the nerd, the class president, the school slut, the popular kids etc. What you see is that high school is essentially the same everywhere. Even the most popular kids doubt themselves, and nobody is truly above it all. You couldn't make up most of the stuff in this book, even if you tried. I was appalled at how naive the parents seemed to be, most not even caring that their kids were sleeping around, getting drunk and using steriods.

I wondered the entire time how he was getting all this personal information about each student. At the end of the book was a section with all the footnotes. While it was annoying to have to keep flipping to the back to read footnotes, it was very informational to learn about the origin of the different slang words and phases as well as different statistics Iversen had found through research further bolstering his claim that this is what the public school system has become. As a side note, the particular high school Iversen was attending was ranked as the second top public high school in the nation. A little scary considering how much learning was not getting done.

After finishing the book, I skipped back to the front and read the introduction (I usually skip that section, but it turned out to answer a lot of questions I had throughout the book.) It's in here that Iversen explains that because most of the students profiled in the book were under 18, he went to great detail to blur personal details that would give away the student to the general populice. His story was crafted mainly out of the online diaries (blogs, myspace pages, etc.) he had found from the students at the school as well as actually being there on scene, though it wasn't written that way. While everything written was verbetim to what he saw, he interwove different characters in so as to not give away anyone's identity.

This book really made me think and I'm seriously considering not sending my kids to public school. Especially if we do end moving to someplace else. While it was "scary" when I was there, this is beyond any comprehension.

What I Would Like to Say to the Dean

So, yeah. I got my test results back yesterday. FAIL. Again. So, so, so close. But no cigar. I was understandingly upset about it and stupidly kicked the step. Broke my toe. I'm certainly not winning any MENSA awards this year.

So I don't know where to go from here. Can I really take the test a fifth time? Wade suggested that we go speak with the dean of the college of mathematics and lodge a formal complaint against the GRE test. So I formulated my response to what I would tell the dean about his stupid requirement:

(a) Ever since I was an awkward tween worrying about BO and obsessing whether my period was going to start in the middle of class and everyone was going to know that I was normal, I've been taught that mathematics is not so much about the correct answer as it is the process to the correct answer. Does the lecture from the teacher "you must show your work" ring any bells? In fact, this teaching method extends well into college, where it was possible to get a 95/100 on a 5 question physics test and not get a single answer correct. However, for this one instance, it's not the process that matters as it is the right answer. After 15 years of training my brain to accept that the right answer is merely the cherry on top, I have to now alter my thinking to "right answer only. Doesn't matter how you get there. Must get right answer."

(b) Outside of the relatively few people in the math department, I have never met ANYONE who has taken the GRE math subject test. There are hardly any resources to aid in studying for the test because it's so obscure. There isn't any help at all on the internet. Oh, there's sample tests for vocab and literature and the general math test, but the subject test? Nope. The testing agency sends out a sample test with your registration packet. It's been the same sample test all four times. How's that going to help me?

(c) There is a small population of us who do not take standardized tests well. Granted, 80 percent of those who take this retarded test pass in the first time. But, there are people who I've seen all four times I've taken this test. So I know I'm not the only one struggling. I've never actually been in the "struggling" group before but now I can see why it was so hard for my brother in high school. His brain doesn't think like the rest of ours, and while he's intelligent, he has to think through things differently. The public school system doesn't operate like that. 80%success rate is a great thing, but when you know that you're better than this, it's hard to be in the minority that can't seem to get over the bar.

(d) I have over 200 credits. That's a mere 80 more than what is required to actually graduate from the University of Utah and 40 more than what's required in the math department. There's got to be something in there that will allow me to graduate without taking this test.

(e) Let me remind you of Mr. Steroids. Remember the guy who brought his pantry to a three hour test because he was diabetic? With test proctors stupid enough to believe that story, how can I trust the integrity of this test?

So...yeah, I know. I reaching out there on a limb. But it's worth a shot. I also just found out that the undergraduate advisor changed. So now I have a new person to talk to. Yippee.

And in the big scheme of things, this is just a minor bump in the road, but definitely not life threatening. While I feel dumb and cheated and my pride is hurt, I'll rebound and show up in October 7 months pregnant to take the stupid test for the 5th time. I'm reminded of this as my brother and his wife are truly embarking on a more serious bump in the road and my thoughts and prayers are with them. It's amazing how your outlook changes when faced with bigger problems than your own.

Twins or No?

The quick answer: No. Yay! In fact the doctor said that my uterus was actually smaller than she'd expect for how far along I am. She did an ultrasound and there was our little peanut. We only had one ultrasound done with Josh and that was when he was a baby and not a peanut. It was amazing to see how small (2.4 cm) our little monkey is. We even got to see the heartbeat. That's pretty cool stuff. It's bewildering to think that something that small could make me so sick.

Wade likes to measure his fingers to the length of our little monkey and hold it up to my swelling midsection, just to emphasize how big my tummy's getting. It's actually kind of funny. I'm getting over my paranoia of having a big belly. I see cute girls out with their big prego bellies and I'm reminded that while I didn't get big with Josh until we were nearing the end, I spent a lot of months wearing bigger clothes that didn't show off my roundness because I certainly didn't look pregnant. I'm looking forward to wearing clothes that show off my belly. Might as well use it to my advantage.

It's been a rough day today for whatever reason and I'm barely just getting off the couch. I was laying there and Josh wanted to go play cars. I told him I wasn't feeling good. He went and got his book we read at nighttime. Then he snuggled up to me and read me story after story. It went something like this: "One day, oabougda sdgfsdg geese asdf adsfsdf stars asdjdfseg. The end." It was really cute though. Then we both fell asleep until about 2:00. It was nice to take a long, much-needed nap.

I'm really looking forward to when my energy returns and I can start exercising again. This rain isn't helping anything either. Our softball game got cancelled and I was really counting on that to get me outside. Oh well. There's always next week.

Those Pesky Pregnancy Hormones

It's been a rough last couple of weeks, but I'm happy to report that I'm feeling a lot better. I haven't thrown up in a few days and I'm actually getting out of bed and accomplishing things. I'm a space cadet though. I forget a lot of things. For example, a friend in the neighborhood asked me to check in on her cat and feed it while they were away for the week. Yesterday morning, I'm laying in bed and realized that I hadn't been over to see the cat since Wednesday. I rushed over to find an empty food dish and a nearly empty water dish. Oiy!

However, I'm a bit distraught that I'm already showing. I'm only 10 weeks along and even my mom commented that I was starting to get a pregnancy belly. When I was pregnant with Josh I went 5 months before telling my classmates at school. I had already had the ultrasound that showed us what we were having before I even announced it at the lunch table in the Union. None of the neighbors knew until it was painfully obvious that I was having a baby...about 2 months before I was due. In fact, I can remember someone asking, quite timidly, if I was pregnant and then being blown away by the fact that I was nearly due. I blame it on my height, but I don't know what to blame it on now. Sometimes, it's a blessing just to have it all out there for everyone to see and comment and not wonder if you're "just gaining weight". However, after sorting through our basement this last weekend, I found my maternity clothes. There's not a lot in there since I didn't need a lot. And most of what I have is for winter. So that's not good on the clothes budget if I have to go out and buy a new wardrobe for summer--although I do like buying new clothes.

So tomorrow we go to our first prenatal appointment and find out some key information...when we're due and if there are, in fact, two babies and not just one. I'm a little scared about having twins. I'm a twin. I've been told stories from my mom for as many years as I can count about the trials and tribulations of raising twins. I always laugh at the people who comment "I would love to have twins." Yeah, there is the whole having two babies in one pregnancy thing--a positive point if you're like me and don't particularly like being pregnant--but there's so much more to having twins. I'm not saying it's not rewarding. It's different. And it's different being a twin. There's always the comparisons that everyone inadvertently--most of the time--makes. I can only imagine what it would be like to be identical and really be compared to one another. When every other kid gets his very own day for his birthday, you have to share. School becomes an exercise in juggling schedules so you're not sharing the same homeroom teacher. There's a bias between teachers that because you're twins, you'll behave the same way. People don't really give you a separate identity. You're either Scott's sister or Sandra's brother. Even now, when I run into someone from high school who I'm not familiar with, they're usually familiar with my brother and vice versa. My mom says one of the hardest parts about being pregnant with twins is wondering if there's going to be something wrong with one of them. Having a "normal" baby the same age as a special needs baby and having to raise them side by side. With my family history of babies (I have a niece with Cerebal Palsy and another niece that was born with a fatal form of dwarfism and only lived a few hours) I'm nervous as it is. Having to worry double time might send me over the edge. With that being said, we'd be happy to open our arms to how many babies come our way.

I'll keep you posted about what happens tomorrow...

The Stansbury Slammers

We had our first co-ed softball game last night. A few months ago, I was driving into town when I saw a crudely homemade sign saying they were looking for co-ed softball teams. I thought it would be a great idea and immediately got to work on setting up a team. I was only the co-captain, so the pressure didn't seem too overwhelming. However, the other co-captain bailed out in April and so I was left with organizing the whole thing.

While I'm not by nature an organizer, I do know that if I want to do something or get something done, I have to be willing to do it because there are a lot of people who are even worse at organizing then me. Case in point...one couple recruited for the team has been wanting to play on a co-ed softball team for 3 years. It finally took someone else setting up the team to approach them. Now they're moving and so they don't get to play. Bummer.

So, I found 5 other couples who wanted to play and told them the cost. I was afraid everyone was going to balk at having to pay $62 a couple to play, but the truth was, while I'm good at organizing the event, I'm not good at collecting money or sponsors. So we (read: I) opted to just foot the bill as a team instead of going to local businesses to see if they wanted to sponsor a mediocre softball team. Next year, if someone wants to find a sponsor, they can be my guest. However, everyone seemed okay with paying and, surprisingly, they did all last night. I thought for sure that I was going to have to float some money until everyone paid, but they were all really good about paying me back. Awesome.

We showed up at the park for our first game and were a little daunted by the team we were playing. These people looked serious. They had bat bags and uniforms and special shoes. For the record, I've never played softball competitively. In fact, I probably can count on both hands the number of times I've played outside of PE class. Two ladies on the team played in high school--a number of years ago--and a few of the guys have played on work teams. But, for the most part, we're a pretty athletic group of people. Not as young as some of the opposing team members--we thought this was the adult league?--but in pretty good shape nonetheless.

Our resounding goal was to be able to show our faces around town after the game--meaning we wouldn't get our pants blown off of us. We led most of the game. I even scored a point. Yay! During the lowest point of the game for us, one of the oldest members of our team, the old bishop, tried to steal(?) home. He then ran back to tag third base and dove for the base, but missed. When he came back to the dugout, someone asked him what happened. He replied "For a minute there, I was 18 again. And then I thought maybe I'd slide a little bit, but instead I stopped cold." Meanwhile, someone left first base and ran to second base, so the person on second base had to run to third. All-in-all, it resulted in a triple out. I'm not sure I've ever seen a triple out before.

We redeemed ourself the next time we were up to bat by hitting a homerun (a feat hard to accomplish in softball because of how heavy the ball is). That brought in two runners and put us comfortably ahead. The ref said if the opposing team could get us out in 5 minutes, they'd have another shot at bat. We held them off for 4 minutes, but they nabbed us with just under a minute. They were up to bat, but we held them off from scoring above us and took the game 9-8.

I think everyone had a good time and our expectations of the league dropped a few notches so we are actually in the running to be a good team. Especially with some good hitters.

Book Review Friday May 8, 2008

Book: The Almost Moon
Author: Alice Sebold
Pages: 291

Sometimes, you can sum up a book with only one word. Magnificent, compelling, breathtaking, ect. The word of the day for this book...creepy. As I have found with other Sebold works, this book bordered on bizarre. However, this one was a little bit more on the creepy side than the others.

Helen arrives at her mother's house to find the neighbor lady,Mrs. Castle, looking frantic. Helen's mother has slowly been descending from reality over the last few years and Mrs Castle, who self-assigned herself the task of checking in on her, is at the end of her ropes. She tells Helen it's time.

Helen nods and comes inside. Her mother doesn't recognize her and accuses Mrs. Castle of stealing her precious mixing bowl. When Helen's mom, once a beautiful lingerie model, soils herself, Helen is in the position of trying to clean her up before calling an ambulance to come take her from the home she hasn't left in years.

While Helen is cleaning her mother, a force overtakes her and she ends up smothering her to death. She had played this moment out since the time she was a preteen--killing her mother. And now she has finally done it.

As she contemplates how to cover up her crime, Helen relives her twisted and sad childhood, forming the basis for a very creepy and bizarre story.

All in all, I couldn't put the book down, so it must of fascinated me at some level. Sebold's books tend to do that. However, I'm not sure I would recommend this to anyone, mostly because then they'd see exactly what it is that I read and might be freaked out by that.

And Then There Were Four

We announced our pregnancy to family and friends on Tuesday. It was a bit earlier than I would've liked to have done, but Josh doesn't keep a secret very well. Either does my green complexion. We're only about 8 weeks along. Still not out of the danger zone.

I was out to eat with some friends for my birthday. I thought I was doing pretty good considering how I was feeling. We were talking about the triathlon coming up in August and one kept bugging me about whether I had signed up or not. I kept saying I hadn't gotten around to it. Finally, she blurts out "are you pregnant?" I said "no," unconvincingly. So that's how it came out. Of course all four of them swore it wouldn't leave the restaurant (yeah, I've heard that before) so I decided that we might as well just tell everyone now. Besides, when you're at home and around so much, it's hard to hide the fact that you don't feel good. Ever.

So there it was. We called everyone and told them our good news. Everyone seemed to be genuinely pleased. Wade's mom even said "that explains the girl in my dream" that everyone thought was going to my sister-in-law's (turns out they're having a boy).

Everyone had the same questions for me:

How have you been feeling? To be honest, I wake up every morning and wonder why the human race has not died out. If this is how people feel when they're pregnant, why do people keep doing it? I remember thinking the same thing when I was pregnant with Josh, yet here I am again. So, the quick answer, I haven't been feeling so well. I'm tired. I'm nauseous. At least, for right now, I haven't been throwing up as much as I did with Josh, so I'm glad for that. However, with Josh, once I threw up, I could go on with the rest of my day. With this one, I'm sick all day and all night. Minor tasks like showering require a catnap to recover from.

What do you want, a girl or a boy? I'm really hoping for a girl. However, I would be happy with either one. Like Wade's sister pointed out, a girl would ease the pressure to have another one because I'd have one of each. I'd hate to say this is it, but refer to answer #1. I've never quantified how many children I want because I don't want people saying "I thought you were only going to have two" or "I thought you were going to have five". I think, if you're smart, you're told when to stop. Some can handle more than two. Others can't. I'm not entirely sure where I fit in, but I have an inkling.

Is Josh excited? He's as excited as any three year old who thinks that in a few days he'll have a new playmate. He doesn't really understand that there is a lot of time involved in incubating his new playmate. He seems to sympathize with how sick I've been. He's very good at playing by himself and keeping entertained. That's definitely been a blessing as some days I can barely get out of bed. I feel sorry that sometimes lunch consists of cereal. And that he has been spending more time in front of the computer and tv. But I can only do so much. He does play with his cars a lot too, so the whole day isn't wasted.

I do need to clarify a remark I made to most everyone I talked to. We had miscarried in March and instead of waiting a full cycle before getting pregnant again, we jumped right back in. There were a number of reasons for this, some selfish, some not so much. I believe my exact phrasing was "I just want to get it over and done with." This isn't to say that having a child is an obligation that I'm just crossing off my list. It's that I don't particularly like the whole pregnancy stage, especially when you lose one and then have to begin all over again. You start calculating when you're going to have the new baby and getting back in shape and wearing your "normal" clothes again. And then something happens and you have to start all over with the whole nausea, morning sickness thing. I'd much rather just hurry and get this stage over with so that I can hold my new baby and introduce her(?) to the world. With that being said, I'm a little dismayed that I will be losing all this hard work from the marathon. I will have to start all over again and somedays I'm a little overwhelmed by the whole process. I worked hard for 18 months to get in shape and it seems that in 9 months, an invader will undo it all. I know it's a small price to pay, but it's much like designing your dream house only to lose it in a fire. You can always rebuild it, but it won't ever be the exact same. That's not to say that I'm not overjoyed with adding another bundle to our family. I am. It just takes a little time to surrender my body and goals.