Lockdown

Today is Thursday, the 29th of November, 2007. That means I've been home from Japan for exactly one year, six months, and twenty-six days.

In that time, many strange and incredible events have transpired. Despite all odds against, I finally got a "grown-up" job; I had my first adventure with downhill skiing; I went white-water rafting; I drove down the West Coast; I turned a quarter-center old; and I nearly died from mono, which no one ever nearly dies from.


Today for the first time I locked myself and my students in my classroom to ensure that none of us got shot by a crazy gunman the police (or the "po-po," as my kids call them) were chasing past our building. This is extra hilarious since "running from the po-po" was the first action in our game of charades yesterday.

No, really. In the immortal words of Sir Konrad the Bewildered, "You think I'm joking, but I'm serious."*


I faced an interesting moral dilemma when our building principal came over the PA and announced a Code 1 Lockdown. You see, at the time, I was on my lunch break and having a conversation with a student about whether he should purchase an HP or a Mac. (Silly conversation, I know, but hey, enlightening teenagers is part of my job, as is trying to make them a little hipper every day.) We were just getting into the finer points of GarageBand when the lockdown commenced. The choice I had to make was this: send the student to another room without knowing the nature of the emergency and risk him getting shot on the way; or lock myself alone in my room with a male student for an indefinite amount of time and hope that no one notices the blatant impropriety of the situation.

We went with the second option and had a good laugh about it -- "D's life vs. G's job... such a tough call..."

We were in lockdown for over an hour, but you'll be relieved to know that nobody died or was fired. In fact, the guy whom the gunman shot "repeatedly"** before he headed our way didn't die either. That's how you know you're a truly crap gunman.

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*"Sir Konrad" with a "K" is the actual fake name of my ex-boyfriend's ex-roommate, who is a pharmacist by day and a Medieval warrior by night. He has absolutely no sense of humor and is constantly under the impression that we think he's joking about things. We're actually just laughing at the uncanny combination of wire-rimmed spectacles and chain mail.

**Such was the local news report this evening.

Two Bits

first bit:

every now and then i have moments in my job that just leave me without words. in a good way. right now is one of those moments. i just read a paper from one of my students -- a literary analysis on how poe establishes mood in "the fall of the house of usher" -- and it was so good, so insightful, so un-frickin'-believably off-the-hook eloquent that i had to put the rest of the pile down for the night. it simply would not be fair to grade another kid's paper with that one fresh in my brain.

*sigh*

i really do love the little triumphs of my job.


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second bit:

on a completely unrelated note, i bought a carbon-monoxide detector for my apartment. my place is really nice, but only because of work that i've put into it. the building on the whole is pretty shabby and the furnace is less than state-of-the-art. now that cold weather is here and i have to turn on said furnace or freeze my tuchus off, a co detector seemed a prudent way to increase my chances of reaching my twenty-fifth birthday.

like most electronics, my new safety device was sealed in plastic packaging designed to resist all reasonable attempts at opening it. you literally have to lapse into momentary insanity to get through this stuff.

long story short, i sliced my finger open. not off, but open to a point where the bleeding was significant and it'll take some time to heal.

i go to work the next day, and the whole school's a-buzz with the horrifying news that one of the students in our district has the infamous mrsa. we're forced to listen to lectures on proper hygiene and given stacks of pamphlets about how to avoid infection. every piece of paper i look at all day says that people who have been "immunocompromised" (that is, people like me who are recovering from mononucleosis) and people who have open wounds (such as recently sliced open fingers) are especially vulnerable and should take the following precautions: *insert list of seven million things to do, including staying home alone in a box. forever.*

if i get staph infection and die because i cut my finger opening the package of a device that is supposed to save my life, i am gonna be so pissed.