Totally irrelevant...totally silly :)

sprinkle gun: hey there little one.
littlelibyan: hey there littler one
sprinkle gun: whats up?
littlelibyan: was goin on?
littlelibyan: the sky
littlelibyan: the ceiling
littlelibyan: birds
sprinkle gun: yes yes... forgot.
littlelibyan: (but don't look up at them)
littlelibyan: (they might drop something on you)
sprinkle gun: how are your classes going?
sprinkle gun: hahah
littlelibyan: they are going quite well
littlelibyan: thanks for feigning curiousity
littlelibyan: or encouragement
littlelibyan: or whatever you wanna call it
littlelibyan: oh yeah...feigning interest
sprinkle gun: your welcome
littlelibyan: :-)
sprinkle gun: =]
littlelibyan: *you are
littlelibyan: you're
littlelibyan: lol
sprinkle gun: sorry
littlelibyan: still a teacher aint i?
littlelibyan: lol
sprinkle gun: yeah
littlelibyan: the irony
sprinkle gun: we should do something over the break
sprinkle gun: my birthday is in 3 days
littlelibyan: i know dude
sprinkle gun: haha
littlelibyan: my kids are writing stories about a chex mix man they created
littlelibyan: you'll have to see it
sprinkle gun: yay!
sprinkle gun: okay.
sprinkle gun: cant wait.... they should made a cherrio woman
sprinkle gun: or dorrito lady
littlelibyan: interesting
sprinkle gun: or a cheeto girl
littlelibyan: 'run, run as fast as you can...you can't catch me I'm the chex mix man!"
littlelibyan: lol
sprinkle gun: hahaha
sprinkle gun: i had this brilliant idea about an hour ago
littlelibyan: about the cherio girl?
littlelibyan: lol
sprinkle gun: no no
littlelibyan: i c said the blind man
sprinkle gun: like i thought it would be cool, if i could say a speech on graduation
littlelibyan: to the deaf and dumb dog
littlelibyan: alrighty then
sprinkle gun: cause i have sooo much to say
sprinkle gun: and then
sprinkle gun: i wrote one
sprinkle gun: and i just finsihed it
littlelibyan: cool beans (like jack and the beanstalk)
sprinkle gun: yeah
littlelibyan: so are ya gonna pass it on?
littlelibyan: you can at least deliver it at the reception
littlelibyan: or such
sprinkle gun: the speech
sprinkle gun: ?>
littlelibyan: yeah dude
sprinkle gun: i dont know... i let you read it and then you can tell me what you think i should do
littlelibyan: kids just used the word: doubletake...cause I taught them that in class
littlelibyan: kinda silly
sprinkle gun: hahaha
littlelibyan: but yeah I'll read it
littlelibyan: yeah I'll tell you how brilliant you are
littlelibyan: :-)
sprinkle gun: hahaha.
sprinkle gun: why, thank you kind lady.
sprinkle gun: but, really i dont think im brilliant
littlelibyan: yes 'ma de-aahhhar'
sprinkle gun: lol
sprinkle gun: hmmm
sprinkle gun: what are you doing?
littlelibyan: helping kids with stories
sprinkle gun: oh
sprinkle gun: well, i am going to go.. call me over the break and maybe we can get together and do somehting.
sprinkle gun: asalamuahlakum!
sprinkle gun: i luh you.
littlelibyan: luh u 2 dude
littlelibyan: walaikum salam
littlelibyan: see ya soon baby june
littlelibyan: lol
littlelibyan: :-)
sprinkle gun: lol, yeah see you soon bafoon.
sprinkle gun: i dont think i spelled that right
littlelibyan: after while pedophile
littlelibyan: lol
littlelibyan: lol
littlelibyan: lol
littlelibyan: lol
littlelibyan: lol
sprinkle gun: hahhaah
sprinkle gun: well, poo on you.
sprinkle gun: ya foo.
littlelibyan: cool dude
sprinkle gun: yea..kbye.
littlelibyan: goo goo
littlelibyan: (dolls)
sprinkle gun: iris
littlelibyan: k buh bye
sprinkle gun: i love that song
littlelibyan: me 2
littlelibyan: dude
sprinkle gun: ahhh
littlelibyan: hasta luego
littlelibyan: sianara
littlelibyan: (is that how you spell it)
sprinkle gun: dont know.
littlelibyan: me either
littlelibyan: hence the reason i asked
sprinkle gun: ah
littlelibyan: chuckles
littlelibyan: *wave
littlelibyan: *blows kisses
sprinkle gun: xoxoxoxoxooxxoxoxoxo
littlelibyan: *hug in the air
sprinkle gun: bye me little libyan sista.
sprinkle gun: my*
littlelibyan: buh bye my littler syrian american sprinkle gun
littlelibyan: :-P
sprinkle gun:
littlelibyan: k fur real now
littlelibyan: see ya
littlelibyan: later
littlelibyan: fridgerator
sprinkle gun: aligator
sprinkle gun: peace.
littlelibyan: in the middle east
littlelibyan: hope
sprinkle gun: fo rizzle. tru dat.
littlelibyan: in the west coast
sprinkle gun is away at 3:04:43 PM.

Unbelievable!

The room is silent. All heads are bowed down in deep contemplation of problem number one. Some eyes dart to the ceiling as they rack their brain for the answers. Some hands are frantically marking answers as if in fear that the words would escape them otherwise. The room remains silent for many minutes as I weave in and out of the rows noting right and wrong answers.

Just as I have a seat at my desk, a hand shoots up. It is so still, so quiet, the raised hand almost seems to slice through the air.

"Are these REAL questions?" asks the child with confusion on his face.

And for the third time today I am answering this question. "Simply follow the instructions," I reply with a straight face.

These questions are easy freebies in reality. And more importantly, they are great ways to wind up a tense testing session. What would your answer be?

N. For the purpose of getting extra points, simply mark an answer to these very serious questions.

78. How many licks does it take to get to the tootsie roll center of a tootsie pop?
A. One
B. Three
C. Huh?
D. I don’t like tootsie pops.
E. Don’t have a clue; can’t remember this commercial

79. Where can one find the end of the rainbow?
A. In the desert.
B. You can’t.
C. I’m not telling. The gold’s all mine
D. Why do you ask?
E. Elementary, my dear Watson.

80. If you could pick your grade, what would it be?
A. Nothing less than an A+.
B. The usual: C+
C. I’ll settle for an ordinary A.
D. Grades? What? We have a test?
E. B+ is good enough for moi.

In all seriousness...

Muslimah: It just took me 2 hours to write a stupid test. I bet my students won't take that long to study. :) one more test for 8th grade to go and only 6th and 7th thereafter. woohoo :) life as a teacher is simply grand.

Cool3teach: Omg, teacher of the year! You should see my leg.

(NOTE: She fell in my classroom last night and totally hurt herself...I guess you can guess where)

Muslimah: Forget your leg, when do I get a plaque? Okay, I will settle for at least some oreas with a shot of dayquil. "I would like to thank all the little people I had to assign detention, all the littler people I skipped in the halls with, and all the parents I avoided like the plague. Without you all, I could never have made it this far." *tear*

(NOTE: I am getting over a cold hence the Dayquil. Plus I went over to her house this weekend and, the wonderful hostess she is, she served me a shot of Dayquil in a nice glass---the orangey-ness of it was beautiful...kinda like our friendship! :) lol)

Cool3teach: Not so fast on that acceptance speech, you're forgetting the competition, 3rd grade teacher in pollenation demonstration.

(NOTE: If you could see her very cute demonstration for pollenation you might vote for this creative chick. However, watching her get ready for the demonstration---she had to use her own spit to do it---was truly amazing...something out of 'Muslimah Teachers gone very WRONG" or the such...j/k.)

Gettin' there

I sat back in my chair sipping my second cup of sugar (with just a little bit of tea mind you). I listened half-heartedly, wishing to be anywhere but right here listening to the troubles of middle-aged women visiting on a Saturday afternoon. I did not betray my annoyance when asked me if I drank tea before my step-mom came around ("Because Americans like iced tea...oh, I forgot your father is Arab...") or when she asked me if my mother [Allah yarhamha] used to cut my hair short when I was young ("Not often? No wonder your hair is thinner than mine...") or when she asked me if I am on a diet ("Don't be embarassed! I'm dieting too!"). No, I just answered politely and kept my eyes on the children. But when the conversation turned to other things, I woke up.

"See all my grey hairs?"

I took a look. I responded in the fashion that was required of me:

"It's not really all that noticable," I reply. "Looks kinda like highlights." And it does, kinda.

I'm 22 and listening to a conversation about the best way to dye your grey hair. I listen to old wives' tales about how to stop your hair from turning grey. I listen as they make excuses for the grey hair on their head ("When I first moved to America, I was SO scared that I started having grey hair! If I hadn't been so scared I would have naturally dark hair. Fear really makes you age, and have grey hair."). I'm 22 and don't care if they have grey hair...and then something happened:

"Ohmigosh...I'm gonna have grey hair!!!"

I am 22, and what have I done??? Where has all the time gone? I'm gonna have grey hair!!! AHHHHHHHHH!

But wait.

Sometimes I think about my mom (Allah yarhamha). She died before she was 40 (at 39...only two months shy of 40). And if I were to die like her, I am already past the halfway marker. And if I die before that, then I really need to start shaping up. SubhanAllah, you never know. But something in me awakened after listening to them. I don't want to be them. I don't want to be like them.

I think I'll embrace whatever comes, when it comes. Maybe I'll be a cool grey headed person. Wait...I wear hijab. Who cares??? :)

La-di-dah!

Today, I danced with the elementary students! It was super fun!!! We did a "Ohmigosh, I'm so happy it's snowing" dance outside after I overplayed (screamed with joy along with silly kids) the first snowflake I saw. I've never felt so alive! :)

I'm gonna go back to school and get my certification in Elementary Education also. I love little kids...I think!

Isn't she purrty?

Ohmigosh!

My hamster may be pregnant! What am I gonna do???? This will be fun to explain. I've already gotten questions: "Hey, teacher, how is it pregnant? Where is her husband? Doesn't it take two?"

Ohmigosh, won't this be fun?!

Fear

I wonder what they will do if I ever move out of this place? Who will get my room? And most importantly, what will I do with all my junk??? :)

I thought of that this morning and was holding it inside until I could write it on my blog. Well, now it looks kinda silly, but I've promised myself I'd write it. And more importantly, I've promised myself not to delete anything I write. I deem it blogger ethics: If a blog is truly representative of my feelings and thoughts at any particular moment, then I, the blogger, cannot by any means erase my feelings and therefore must not delete any of those thoughts as put on paper (or in this case, electronic format). Also, if a blog is truly representative of my feelings and thoughts at any particular moment, then any one post will likely be contradicted by another post because of the ambiguity of the author's feelings. Further, the blog will act like a journal of deeds and thoughts and actions to be used by the author and potential readers as lessons to learn from: take from what is good (alhamdulillah) and make not the same mistakes as the author.

And so, I now fear that I have written things that may cause grief or pain. I fear that I may have transcribed feelings that should be left intimately my own. I fear that I am wrong. But should that be so, I will not delete. I will not censure my feelings or thoughts. For, I swear, sometimes they just fall from my fingertips and I don't even know I am writing. Sometimes, they are lifted from my mind and placed in full view. And this scares me. But it is this fear that I must face. For if you know me, you now know me well. And if you do not, you know me better than most. I fear hurting others and myself. Above all I think I fear silence.

And silent I am not.

Why?

Because sometimes more than anything you wanna be held.
Because sometimes, more than anything, you wanna be true to more than just your minds.
Because sometimes your heart just bleeds and it is beyond your ability, beyond your desire to let it stop.
Because sometimes you miss her presence even though you have forgotten.
Because sometimes it hurts to realize what you’ve forgotten.
Because your whole world seems wrong.
Because you’ve tried to do everything right but you’re not where you thought you’d be.
Because there is a little piece of ocean inside of me that no one sees.
Because that little piece is a big burden.
Because I wanna let go.
Because I am afraid of I don’t know what.
Because to others I am the boulder.
Because I can’t have.
Because I’m not true though I’m the most down-to-earth.
Because I’m conceited.
Because I’m not sure but I make sure you think I am.
Because I’m scared of next year.
Because I loved of love and lost the feeling.
Because I fear I’ve missed my chance.
Because I want to hold hands.
Because I made stupid mistakes.
Because I like being alone.
Because I drive at night to no where just to be alone under the stars where nothing can reproach me or make me rigid.
Because I’m the youngest, yet the strongest.
Because I’m the oldest.
Because I was the only girl.
Because I loved and thought.
Because I’m lost inside my thoughts.
Because tomorrow I will face the world and pretend I am okay.
Because I am okay.
Because I have all that I really need.
Because I am blessed.
Because I have more than others.
Because even when I am sad I cannot allow myself the luxury of tears.
Because even when the pangs of fright are near I cannot allow them to be cause of my display of weakness.
Because they’ll read what’s in my head.
Because they’ll not understand.
Because I’m freer now than I’ve ever been.
Because I’m tired.
Because I need to leave.
Because I wish to go on.
Because sometimes more than anything, you wish.
Because sometimes life is made upon wishes.
Because it’s hard to see beyond the glasses.
Because sometimes what you want makes you feel worse.
Because not knowing something is horrible.
Because it’s never your voice on the other end.
Because I thought if I really wanted something I would have it then and there.
Because I don’t want to hear about it.
Because this time it’s for me.
Because I will allow myself to be detached.
Because the facts of my childhood have become the fiction of my adulthood.
Because I write letters to anyone and never send them.
Because sometimes being obvious is wrong.
Because I can’t stop writing.
Because I can’t get it outta my head.
Because I feel trapped.
Because I despise him.
Because I just needed backup.
Because I want to be fought over.
Because I want to respect.
Because I want to sleep in late.
Because I want to dance.
Because I want to be surprised.
Because I need time alone.
Because I need my own time.
Because I’ve become numb.
Because I’m rotting on the inside.
Because I’m in pain.
Because I’ve let people down.
Because I’ve let myself down.
Because I’m falling.
Because I should give more of me.
Because sometimes I’m incoherent.
Because sometimes I laugh too much.
Because I’m a helpless romantic.
Because I’m hard as stone.
Because I’d melt like wax.
Because someone’s hands could mold me.
Because I want to be great.
Because I cannot give it all.
Because I write forever.
Because I fear what I feel.
Because sometimes writing makes it all clear.
Because sometimes reading helps make sense of it all.
Because sometimes I confuse even myself.
Because they laughed at me.
Because my point was valid.
Because I never falter to have an opinion since then.
Because I fear the mediocre.
Because I write to feel better.
Because I can only be what I am.
Because I cannot cry.
Because I am weak.
Because I appear strong.
Because this fearful soul is fearless.
Just because I am.