Batman! or Anne is not a Cartoon Dog.

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So here it is, Batman on Scooby Doo:

Anne is Not a Cartoon Dog

by Kate Nowak

Remember when other cartoon characters used to show up on Scooby Doo? I LOVED THAT. You turn on Scooby Doo and expect to see the gang solving a mystery and engaging in hijinks and BAM, the entire Addams Family! So in this scenario, I declare that Anne is a Daphne/Velma hybrid (stylish AND smart) and I am Batman. Or maybe Phyllis Diller. Or Captain Caveman.

Anne has been writing about whatever is on her mind. I admire her commitment to a month of posting every day. It’s hard to do anything for a month every day. Here is the complete set of things it is NOT hard to do for a month every day: {breathe, sleep, drink coffee}. But Anne is exhausted, people. It is May and she is a teacher. On top of that, she has to move, and we all know moving is the worst. I mean, THE WORST. Anne, please be lying down with a cold compress on your head right now. This is my hope for you.

Here are things that are on my mind today:

I have made appearances on various webinars lately and today I made the mistake of watching them and DEAR GOD MY VOICE. WHAT IS WRONG WITH MY VOICE? I swear, it doesn’t sound like that in my head. I think when I’m a little nervous, and thinking carefully about what I’m saying (which is 50% “um”, beeteedubs) all the air in my body gets pinched and constricted and I only let it out in shallow threads through my nose. Must investigate how people do this and sound normal at the same time.

I think about all you teachers and I am not-jealous and jealous of you at the same time. Not-jealous because, my current job’s pretty neat, and I’m digging it. I am jealous when I think about stressed ninth graders huddled around my desk, and I knew I could give them exactly what they needed. That’s the power of May. You know those kids. They’re so lucky. I am jealous when I read all the great things you are doing in your classes, and I can’t steal them and make teenagers think I’m a genius. I am jealous when I think about the sprint to the finish, exhausting as it was, and how good it felt to be done with that year – the mighty purging of all the extra photocopies, the locking everything in cabinets, the cleaning up all the eraser crumbs that were under everything. And the week or so of the gorgeous nothing of sitting and staring at a wall that followed.

The ever-quotable Elizabeth Statmore and I are tasked with coming up with some problem-solving sessions for #TMC13. In trying to find something suitably wicked and accessible, I have been doing some really hard math. It’s fun. It hurts. I’m not going to tell you what, because, spoilers. The hardest part is focusing on a few things. Holding a few things in my attention long enough for them to click together. The most delightful thing so far was counting up something unrelated, and the Fibonacci sequence popped out.

I read this really lovely thing today: “Suppose we are looking at the ocean. On the surface we see waves rising and falling. From the point of view of the waves, there is birth and death, high and low, rising and falling. There are distinctions between waves. But each wave is made of water. It is a wave, but at the same time, it is water. Concepts such as birth and death, higher and lower, rising and falling apply only to the waves, not to the water itself … You know very well that the wave does not need to die in order to become water. It is water in the here and now. … The wave can live the life of a wave, but it can also do better. It can live every moment of its life deeply touching its nature as water. If the wave realizes that it is water, its fear disappears. It enjoys its rising and falling much more. Rising is joyful, and falling is, too.” (Thich Nhat Hanh, You Are Here)

Okay, then, sluggers. Go make a difference out there

Note from me: Thank god for Kate Nowak, cause I am totally in bed.

Also, if you didn’t know my real life name is Anne.

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