Kasey’s Not in Kansas Anymore…

The thing about my life right now is that it is finally harvest time.

Work with me people . . .  this is a metaphor.

You see, for the past few years of my life I have been a diligent but very tired and frustrated farmer. I tilled the soil. I added fertilizer. I fought frosts and droughts and pests. I did the dirty work. I fretted and worked and tired myself out.

And now, it’s time to collect the fruit from the crop I have been so carefully tending.

It is so crazy for me to believe that all the work I have done has finally brought me to this place:

I  start my very first teaching job at a school I really like on Monday morning. I get my very first crop of students on the 26th. I am a certified, employed teacher. The fast paced, high stress year getting my masters degree and the long four years working towards my dual bachelors degree have brought me to this moment. The papers and projects and midterms and finals are over, and I am here.

I am now living in my very first apartment – the first time I haven’t lived with my parents in my whole life. It is scary, and a little sad, but really freeing all at the same time.  The boy who I have been in love with for the past four and a half years and I have taken it to the next level by sharing the apartment with each other. It really, really makes me happy.

So now is the time that work and effort are paying off for me. Harvest time.

And it is amazing for me to think that this is just the beginning. How much riper will things get for me?

These are exciting times.

Heat on the ear.

The whispered breath

Carries words

And moisture

And promises.

She slyly smiles.

What dirty secret

Has been

Between two lovers

Shared?

Phantom touch

On my skin.

I miss you

And I feel

The sweet

Hallucination

As if it were

Real.

But you aren’t

 Here, only me.

Alone.

But still I feel

That phantom touch

On my cheek

Collarbone

Palms

Lips

 Heart.

If I close my eyes

Tightly I can pretend

 You’re next to

Me.

I did not give in and do the 25 random things post.

I didn’t push off my grading until tomorrows planning periods.

I didn’t breathe a sigh of relief to hear my classroom observation went VERY well.

I didn’t feel annoyed at the fact that there’s no chance of a snow day this week . . .

So, last night invloved a pretty big change for my boyfriend. Instead of persuing a Masters in Economic Policy Analysis (eek!) he’s decided to get his Master of Arts in Teaching . . .  the exact program that I myself am on the verge of completing! This was a mix of surprising, not really surprising and excitment.

So, Alex and I will be high school teachers together. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, my boyfriend and I are both going to be shaping future generations . .  . god help them!

I think this is going to be so good for our future together. I think, and so does he, that he would have hated teh kind of job the econ masters would have gotten him. Put that on top of the instability of financial emploment at the moment, and I am pretty relieved.

I am so happy to know that we can get jobs anywhere and won’t be taken far away for a good offer to him. We can settle down in a nice area with good schools (for us and out future family). We’ll have summers off together, and holidays and spring breaks. We’ll have secure employment no matter what the economic status in the country . . .  teachers are always needed for America’s children.

More than all of that, though, I feel like this will connect us in yet another new way. We’re already so in sync most of the time. Now sharing similar careers will create a new bond for us to explore together. I don’t think anyone but another teacher can truly commiserate with a teacher’s frustrations or celebrate their sucesses. I’m happy that Alex and I will be able to do that for each other.

“As I sit here I’m short on time,
So please forgive any suspect rhymes.
I’m just so happy that your mine,
I can’t express it with these lines.”

There is more to this, including a sex joke and a deliberate use of the word Orange (which never rhymes with anything). It is hilarious, and so us. But the beginning, here . . .  those are some sweet, sweet words.

I did not forget I was supposed to do a not me monday post until RIGHT NOW.

I did not ignore my blog for a whole week.

I did not have one. amazing. weekend.

I am not hoping for  a2 hour delay in the morning.

I did not spend a three day weekend in its entirety with my boyfriend (mostly on the couch, being bums).

I did not squeal with happiness when told that tomorrows weather might add up to a snow day.

I did not enjoy an extra scoop of mint chocolate chip ice cream last night!

I’ve taken this from my big sis. I always have followed in those footsteps, you know!

Anyway, since I often find it difficult to figure out WHAT exactly to blog about, I’ve decided to participate in “Not me Mondays.” After all, doesn’t everyone always come up with some things during the week that they absolutely did not do at all? Of course! I mean, of course not?

This blog carnival was created by <a href=”http://www.mycharmingkids.net”>MckMama</a>. You can head over to <a href=”http://www.mycharmingkids.net”>her blog</a> to read what she and everyone else have not been doing this week.

Now for mine:

• I did not play on facebook during my seven hour long mini mester course on Thursday. That would have been totally irresponsible!
• I 100% did not go out with my mother at one am in freezing weather to greet the Ravens after their trip home from PA (even though they didn’t actually make it there because of an icy runway).
• There is no way at all that I swore I would get lots of work done during my day off for MLK day and then sat around doing nothing of consequence until 4:30 pm.
• I have not thought about doing a snow dance to ensure that school is either delayed or cancelled tomorrow morning. 

Okay, so here is the deal. I kind of had an idea for a story. I sort of wrote up an introductory page or so to get the idea going. I’m curious if you guys think maybe this is worth exploring a little. So . . . here you go.

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Here I am, sitting in traffic. Lovely. I watched the slow and steady click of the minutes changing on my dashboard clock. This is NOT good, I thought. What will the Vanderhoosen’s say? Here’s hoping they haven’t started trading blows yet . . . verbal or physical. If they get blood on my brand new “sandstone” Berber I swear . . . but then I guess if they do it’s my fault. I’m the one who’s late and will have to pay for my failed punctuality with punches.

After all, couples in couples’ therapy? NOT the most patient people you’ve ever met.

Oh, yeah, I’m a couple’s therapist. Dr. Caroline Klark. My natural .  .  . abilities . . .tend to lend themselves well to dealing with conflict.

You may not believe it, but I have psychic abilities. No, seriously. Real ones. No, I do not talk to dead people, although sometimes they do talk to me. I just listen. I don’t think anyone really can talk to them. Departed souls come and go. They can’t be controlled or found or requested. don’t answer questions, they usually just talk; about their lives, loves, afterlives, unfinished business, anything and everything and nothing, all at the same time. If they hear you speaking, they never acknowledge it. They just keep on talking.

By the way, you’ve never experienced true frustration until a departed soul talks at you until four a.m. because they know you are one of the few people who can hear them. Polite requests that they go to hell or heaven or whatever already are strictly ignored. Like I said, I don’t think they hear you.

All of those “psychics” who claim they can converse willy nilly with your great grand ma ma to discover the meaning of life or closure or figure out where the will was left? Not so much. And they’ve ruined the name psychic for the rest of us. How can I expect to get any respect when John Edwards is considered my colleague? So, instead of offering my services to the world as a psychic for hire, I am a couple’s counselor. While I can’t talk to dead people, there are a few other tricks in my clairvoyant bag that make me the number one couple’s counselor in the D.C. area.

 I can read people. Now, don’t be confused. I don’t read minds, per say, just people. I’m a more full proof lie detector test than truth serum. Lie to me? I don’t think so! If you can’t see how that helps me deal with a couple in crises, you have bigger problems than I can help you with.

“Honey, I never ever said that about your mother.”

“There never was another man, Dave.”

“Of course I don’t think your ass is too big.”

“No I did not look down Dr. Klark’s blouse . . . she’s our therapist!”

Those do not work on me (although frankly I’m surprised some of them work on anyone, psychic or not). When they come up, I gently remind my patients that it is not in their best interests to lie to the therapist. They always seem surprised, but they don’t usually question. Cutting through all of that makes the therapy much more productive, I must say.

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So that’s what I got together so far. I’m thinking that the story would revolve around the Dr. coming accross a VERY unsavory person (thing?) whom she has to stop.

I don’t know, I just sort of had the thought.