Things My (Teen) Patrons Say 2

After telling a few PDA offenders to give each other some space: "You're just jealous your husband isn't here." (I mean, true, tbh...)

Patron #1: Do you know any Roblox keyboard commands?
Me: Nope...[Name of a younger coworker] might, he's a nerd. I'm not.
Patron #2: ...You're a librarian.

Patron: Why does the library have to close?
Me: Well, I can't stay here all night.
Patron: I would!

"Do you have any books to help my sister break up with her boyfriend?" (ABSOLUTELY I DO!)

Patron: What time is it?
Me: Time for you to get a watch.
Patron: Time for you to get a better joke!

Let's Call This Segment I FEEL OLD

While playing Apples to Apples: "Who's Puff Daddy?"

While discussing photography: "What's a camcorder?" What's a tape? What's film?"

After asking that they leave the ashtray outside alone: "What's an ashtray?"
After explaining how people put out cigarettes: "What do you mean..don't you just turn them off?"

Things My Patrons Say 1

It's been a minute since I've worked with the public...and I missed gems like these! Note, as a teen librarian, most of my patrons are tweens or teens (ages 11-18, plus a few young adults). Rereading and remembering these is therapeutic and helps remind me of all the positives of working with this age group, especially during rough weeks like this one, when Spring Break seems so far away/I'm exhausted from Daylight Savings/my patience is thin. I truly appreciate and enjoy my job and my patrons!

---

While playing card games with them after school: "Is it okay that you're hanging out with us? Shouldn't you be doing, like...work?" [NOTE: as a teen librarian, getting to know the teen patrons IS my work...it just so happens to also be fun.]

---

Patron: Can I have candy?
Me: Um, no.
Patron: What if I clean, then can I have candy?
Me: Well, I guess, but nothing is dirty now. Maybe tomorrow?
Patron: Okay, so what if I happened to spill my chips on the floor and I vacuum up the crumbs? Then can I have candy?

---

[Running into the library after school, after being asked to leave the day before]: I'm not gonna get kicked out today!!!

---

Patron: I never know what to say to adults, I'm afraid of adults.
Me: You're afraid of me? I'm not scary!
Patron: No, I'm not afraid of you. Like, *real* adults.

---

Patron: Okay, do you want to hear a song that's, like, perfect for when your parents are making you mad and no one just...understands you?
Me: Yep, sure, let's hear it.
Patron: [Plays "Complicated" by Avril Lavigne, which came out 17 YEARS AGO, in May of 2002, when I was in 8th grade & probably felt like no one understood me.]
Me: Girlfriend, I've KNOWN about this song, don't even worry.

---

(Same) Patron: I'm really into *old* songs, you know?
Me: Like...The Beatles?
Patron: Like Nelly and the Backstreet Boys.
Me: [searches retirement communities]

Migrations: A Storytelling Experience

As a part of my storytelling class, I attended a live storytelling performance on campus this past weekend. Stories are meant to be heard, which is why recordings and YouTube videos are important, but live is better than recorded when considering the emotional impact of a story.

This monthly event is part open mic and part storytelling performance, which meant I got to hear a variety of traditional tales, personal stories, and the featured teller's program. Hearing (and seeing) how others tell was a great way for me to think about the way I tell - do I remember to pause for drama (or comedy)? How do I stand? Do I have any verbal or physical tics?

Most powerfully, hearing the featured teller - Mama Edie Armstrong - along with several members of the Drum Divas showed me all the ways storytelling can reach an audience. She had us singing and dancing, laughing, sharing, and focused on her tales. Her program was called "Migrations: The Drums are Calling Us Home" and featured stories both personal and traditional, along with songs and educational interludes.

Mama Edie's style is suited for small gatherings (the audience was about 40-50 adults in a small lounge), but could easily translate to a larger performance. It was easy to see how she would work in a school setting or with younger audiences, as she asked for participation and used our reactions as teachable moments.

I was entertained, informed, and surprised at how quickly the time passed as Mama Edie told. The entire program was life-affirming and helped to show how storytelling is a connecting art form. I'm excited to continue my storytelling journey as I develop my librarian toolkit.

Things My Students Say 7

For the last day of school, my final installment of this series:

Student: Ms. Kaiser, pretend you are an 8th grade girl
Me: ...okay...
Student: What would you want your crush to say to you?
Me: You're a cool girl! I think you're neat! I like you more than Pokemon!
Student: ...Have you ever been in a serious relationship?

Teacher: How would you explain majority rules in simple terms? ...Think of when your family is deciding where to eat.
Student: Mom rules and she says there's frijoles in the fridge.

Student A: Ms. K, do you have a kid?
Me: No.
Student B: She has two!
Me: ....Also no.

At the zoo: Ms. K, the penguins have your eyes!

While tapping on my glasses, which were on my face: "Ms. K, you have glasses?"

Referring to my engagement ring: "Ms. K, that looks like a dinosaur egg. When will your egg hatch?"

Student: Hey, Rachel!
Me: Excuse me?
Student: You're not my teacher anymore. Now we're just friends, so I can call you Rachel.

Things My Students Say 6

Because it's been quite the week (and it's only Wednesday), a few nuggets of humor to get you to Friday:

Teacher: What is a Spanish word that sounds like California and describes it?
Student: Coliflor? (Cauliflower)
[correct answer...calor (heat)]

Student: When was Curious George invented?
Me: I don't know, but he was around when I was a kid.
Student: So, 1957?

Student while creating a drawing of things they want to know about space exploration: Does this look like the Death Star?

Teacher: Are you playing Pokemon in my class?
Student: Yes.
Teacher: My 7 yr old nephew plays Pokemon.
Me, to myself: My 28 yr old fiance plays Pokemon.

Student: So, you don't have any kids?
Me: Nope.
Student: You know, you're not getting any younger.

Student, during a fire drill: Are we going to have fire drills every Wednesday?!?

Things My Students Say 5

Student: Ms K, could a lot of ants carry you?

Me: [Name], why is your pencil all chewed up?
Student: I'm hungry.

Student A, seeing another student's open math book: You got the hot dog homework?
Student B: The what?
Student A, pointing to a picture of a hot dog on the open page: The hot dog homework!!
Student A, to the student next to him: Yo, you got the hot dog homework?

While researching zebra mussels online: Zebra muscles...no, this can't be right.

Me: [Name], I need you at a zero voice level right now - we're in the library.
Student: Nope, zero does not exist in my world. Only ten and eleven.

Student: You got kids, right Ms K?
Me: Nope.
Student: But you're married?
Me: Nope.
Student, giving me side eyes: I coulda sworn you got married...

Things My Students Say 4

Teacher: What's a perfect society?
Student: Not this!
Student: Tacos!
Student: No Donald Trump!
Student More teachers!

Teacher: Standardized tests are coming soon, be ready to read for two hours!
Student: Yes! I love reading!

Student, after reading "The Lottery": So...she doesn't win any money?

Student, looking at my wrists: Don't guys wear their watches on the right and girls on the left?
Me: Well, usually you wear it on the opposite wrist of the hand you write with, but you can wear it on whatever wrist you want.
Student: But, like low key, guys right, girls left...right?
Me: Um, no.

A list of "compliments" from students (mostly female) to my coworkers and me (also mostly female):

-You would look cute pregnant.
-You're not wearing make up today, right?
-Are those your real eyes?
-You could be in your twenties. Late twenties. Or maybe early thirties.
-Do you ever wear make up?
-That's your natural hair color I bet.

Things My Students Say 3

A random sample of things overheard both in my classroom and in the classrooms I co-teach in during the day:

Student: There's this kid, well it's [name], but I'm not going to call him out...
Teacher: You kind of just did.

Student, as he proceeds to eat tamales instead of do homework as asked: Your class is fun!

"I'm working on STUFF. That stands for Super Technical Undercover Fun Facts."

Teacher: Comprehending means to under...
Student: Armour!

After going on a super cool behind the scenes tour of Motorola's test labs: We got granola bars!

Teacher: What is a housewife?
Student: A wife. Who lives in a house.

Student: Does this school have a mascot?
Tour Guide: Yes, we're the Jaguars!
Student: Who do I contact about being the mascot?

Reading about artificial flavors: What's that flavor...um...piñata colada?

Me: Homework builds character!
Student: I don't need to build character, I AM a character!

Me: Okay, children...
Student: Yes, Mary Poppins?

Things My Students Say 2

Besides overhearing hilarious conversations, I also get a lot of great one-liners from my students directed towards me. Do they mean to be so funny? Rarely.

"Those glasses make you look old."

"You look like you work at a bank. Chase Bank." 

"Are you 32? Do you have a house? Do you have a son?" -still fishing for personal info. 

Me (to a student who had gone on our field trip to O'Hare): I heard you guys saw Air Force One!
Student: Yeah! And we saw the plane that President Obama rides in! 

In the middle of a test: "TATTOOS EQUALS LIFE!" 

"You're basically middle-aged, right?" 

"I heard that if you get your nose pierced you lose your sense of smell." 

"You look old. It's not bad, it's just how you look."
Same student, a week later: "You look young today. Sorry, should I stop talking?"

Things My Students Say

When you're a teacher, you get to know a lot about your students. Middle schoolers may not always be forthcoming with details about their day to their own parents, but in the classroom they love talking about themselves. Whether it's in snippets of conversations in the hallway, things shared during a lesson, or what they write in their homework, I've heard and seen a lot of gems so far this year. A few of my favorites:

"If I want to be a doctor that means going to school until I'm like 26, and then I only have *maybe* three years before I'm old and gross and broken down." -a 12 year old, on turning 30 

"Can I throw this?" -a student, attempting to toss a Sharpie across the room 

"So, how's your boyfriend?" -the most obvious fishing I've heard (I've shared little to no details about my personal life with my students) 

"If I become an engineer, how many flat screen TVs do you think I could buy?" -a student with priorities for his career options 

"I can do the splits!" -in answer to the question "What do you like to do outside of school?"

I have a feeling this will be a recurring series...

What Being Hispanic Means to Me (Guest Post!)

Yesterday was the beginning of Hispanic Heritage Month, which goes from mid-September to mid-October in order to encompass the independence days of many Hispanic countries (Mexico's is today). Since I already shared a bit about being German-American, I asked Jesus if he would answer the same questions about being Hispanic. I didn't coach him at all (as in, I simply asked the question and let him interpret it on his own) and he didn't see my answers before he shared his experience, so I did make a few changes/additions to questions for clarification. I think the differences in how we answered are interesting, and though I wasn't surprised by his answers, there were a few things I expected him to say that he didn't.

[Disclaimer] This is Jesus's personal experience and is in no way meant to speak for Hispanics/Latinos/Mexicans/Puerto Ricans/Mexican-Puerto Rican-Americans as a whole. I wanted to hear more about his views on ethnicity and I thought a guest post would be a fun way to start the conversation. If you want to learn more about Hispanic and/or Latino culture in general, talk to more people/read some books/travel. This blog is personal, and he can only speak for himself. [End Disclaimer]

Do you identify as Hispanic-American? No.

What do you identify as? Plain old Hispanic or Latino.

What's the difference? Saying that I'm Hispanic-American implies that I'm not whole unless I'm American [as well] and I don't feel I need to add the American to my Hispanic. I can be Hispanic without being American in that same way that I can identify as American [without being Hispanic]. I can identify as American or Hispanic. They can be separate. They don't have to be the same thing.

What parts of you/your personality do you attribute to being Hispanic? Having a mother who speaks Spanish and a father who is, well, 100% Puerto Rican...they raised me in a Hispanic fashion...with Hispanic customs and traditions. Living in America, I still picked up on "American" traditions on my own. They never tried to seclude me from American culture.

What does it mean (to you) to be raised in "a Hispanic fashion"? The food, the language, what was considered culturally acceptable (discipline-wise).

Is anything about you not Hispanic? My girlfriend. I fit Hispanic stereotypes pretty great, but I can fit American stereotypes as well. I'm also pretty weird in general, so...

How did you know you were Hispanic growing up? (Did you know?) Any family traditions? Things that set you apart from people you knew who were not Hispanic? Just the fact that I grew up among Spanish-speaking people and speaking Spanish with them. I was lucky enough to attend a pretty diverse school so I understood that there were differences between all the different kids and their families and upbringings.

What do you think people assume about you when they see you? Do you get tagged with Hispanic stereotypes? I've spent a lot of my grown up life having people be surprised to find out I was Hispanic. When I would say I was Mexican and Puerto Rican they would say, "What, really?" so I guess I didn't act/look Hispanic enough...I don't know what they thought I was.

Will you celebrate at all this month? If so, how? No, not at all. Not in the least bit. I actually hate the traffic and the parades.

Bucktown/Wicker Park Public Library, Friday, April 18, 2014, 2:25 pm.

Bucktown/Wicker Park Public Library,

Friday, April 18, 2014, 2:25 pm.

First Floor:

The tables are nearly full, so I

camp out at the edge of the

one nearest the meeting rooms

and floor-to-ceiling windows.

Outside, the fresh grass peeks

through last fall’s dead leaves.

My nose starts to run and I

turn back to the quiet bookshelves

in this corner of the library:

Test Prep and Careers.

Their shelves are filled with titles

like The Princeton Review guide to the

SAT/GMAT/LSAT/ACT

Job Search Letters, Resumes, or

Interviews for Dummies

Postal Exam Preparation

How to be a State Trooper

Get Your Captain’s License!

No one else here is concerned

with any of that, just

How do I print this?

What’s the wifi?

Where’s the nearest 7-11?

or my favorite overheard conversation,

between a mother and a son:

“Can I go up there?”

“No, not now.”

“But I asked!”

“Yes, and thank you so much

for asking respectfully, but my

answer is no.”

Followed by the stubborn

stomps of a child who’s asked and expects

the answer to be yes.

Because what’s the point in

asking otherwise? Aren’t we

all just asking to go “up there,”

wherever that may be,

not for actual permission, but

just to be polite?

And when the universe answers

no, we stomp around anyway,

like children in a public library

on a Friday afternoon.

---

I wrote this (mostly) at the library in honor of National Library Week. Visit your library! You never know how it might inspire you.

Waiting for Buses with Strangers

The old man took deliberate steps towards me. He brandished a length of polished wood, like the leg of a table, using it for a cane. His orthopedic shoes and flat-topped Stetson gave him a harmless air, but the way he made direct eye contact from behind his wire-framed bifocals left me checking for escape routes. Not for the first time in my life I wished for a “NO SOLICITATION” tattoo on my forehead.

"Is the next bus coming soon?" He paused in front of me at the bus stop where I was waiting for the 49 with several other riders. I sought out an ally--literally any other person waiting for the bus with us--but no one was looking up from their slush-covered boots or out of their scarf-wrapped hoods.

Though I'm not a professional bus tracker, I nodded. "Yep, should be about five minutes." It seemed like a good guess. All I wanted to do was take a breather after work, wait for the bus in peace, and go home for dinner. I wasn't trying to engage in conversation. The only people who make small talk really just want me to: subscribe to a magazine, join their bank, join their church, join their gym, or allow them to linger in my personal space far longer than is normal or comfortable for me.

He took a few more steps and turned around to face me, but didn't say anything. I could feel his gaze, though perhaps he was looking at something past me. I didn't want to check, instead opting to keep him in my peripheral. People get robbed when they let their guards down, and this man was already giving me weird vibes.

He came closer and I pulled my purse to the front of my body. "Could you tell me the time?" he asked.

I checked my phone. "It's 7:13." Did he only ask so he could see where I put my phone? I slipped it into my jacket pocket and kept my hand in there with it.

Again he did his few steps away, turn, few more steps back maneuver. Now he was in my personal space. I leaned away, willing the bus to show up.

"And you said the bus would come when?"

I was annoyed. We were already waiting--the bus comes when it comes--and again, I'm not a bus tracker. I had checked online before I left work to get a vague idea of how fast I would have to walk to the bus stop, but there's no telling what kind of delays/traffic a Western bus will face on a weeknight. "Well," I took a step back, "the last time I checked, it was coming at 7:17."

He smiled at me, unfazed. "And you said it's what time?"

When the bus pulled up, I checked through the windows for empty seats. The queue formed at the door, but didn't move. The Clockless Wonder stood at the front, nearly bowing as he motioned for me to get on first. I smiled and boarded. Spotting a few empty rows in the back half of the bus, I quickly sat down. He took a spot in the reserved area. I let out the breath I didn't realize I was holding and closed my eyes. Another day, another awkward interaction, another reminder to bring headphones with me when I go out in public.

"Please Go Away." T-shirt courtesy of St. Norbert College's study abroad program, but also effective as a weirdo repellent.

---



---

La Tarea

Yesterday marked the beginning of the CPS school year. Private schools have another week of summer, but then they'll be back too. M already has homework assigned in three classes, due on his first day back. I'm in my third week of Spanish classes, and deep in homework mode.

Each week we watch another few episodes of our Spanish-language soap opera, Destinos. So far we've learned that Don Fernando vive en Mexico City, tiene quatro hijos, su esposa está muerta, and ... he had another wife back in Spain during the Spanish Civil War who may or may not still be alive and was pregnant when he left Spain under the assumption that she had died in the bombing at Guernica.

Things are getting pretty intense on the telenovela front.

I've given myself extra homework for the class as well. Since it's the second level class and we skipped over all the beginner stuff, I'm doing that on my own as review. I remember most things, or parts of most things, which gives me confidence that this isn't a total waste of 8 weeks and a Groupon.

My final personal homework is conversations with mi amiga, Becca, who just got back from Ecuador, where she learned lots of Spanish, and with mi novio, Jesus, who grew up speaking both Spanish and English. Mi hermana, Bailey, also helps with my conversations and teaches me new phrases to try out. I'm lucky to have so many opportunities to practice and a variety of teachers, each with unique experiences.

Multilingual Connections

Last night I began a new adventure. For the next two months, I'm taking a night class to improve my Spanish. Multilingual Connections offers many language courses at all levels, and Spanish Beginner II seems to be a good fit.

For our first class, we reviewed the basics and things we learned way back in high school. Our teacher is Guatemalan and very friendly, encouraging our small class (6 students, all women between the ages of 25 and 60) to speak out loud with her and to our partners. 

One of our activities last night involved a dialogue (in Spanish) to learn why each of us was taking the class. Reasons ranged from a love of continuing education to wanting to converse better with in-laws to improving confidence in speaking a second language. 

I'm excited to have something other than work going on in my life, especially since all my roommates are in the process of going back to school (for teaching and learning). Our homework is to watch two episodes of a Spanish language soap opera, so that's pretty exciting too. 

Txtng

I dropped my phone in vinegar yesterday
now the keys don't always work.
I send strange messages:

Wats hapenig tonght?
here are yo?
Yum izza.
I loe you.

I'm a little worried
no one seems to notice.

Life in UY

There is sunshine here! It's a miracle. Yesterday Bailey and I walked through the feria (market). We saw two guys get into a fight after exchanging some colorful language. I won't translate for you, but let's just say you wouldn't want your grandma to overhear you talking like they were.

Last night we went to eat dinner at Laura and Dudu's. Bailey and her roommate Anna used to live there before finding their apartment. The food was great and it was an interesting experience--lots of language mixing and explaining stories with hand motions and gestures.

Today Bailey and I took a super long walk on La Rambla in preparation for our giant lunch. We worked up a pretty nice sweat, then labored over some chivitos (fried steak sandwiches with various toppings).

Breaking Bread

Our apartment went through three dozen eggs this weekend. That's a dozen a day. The explanation is simple: we do brunch. Brunch at the Naw has evolved from our first several weekends here--we now have a Belgian waffle maker, a full menu, and set recipes and jobs. Anyone who happens to be joining us that day (brunch time is between 11-1) also gets a job to do: chopping veggies, shredding cheese, whipping egg whites for the waffles...it takes work to pull off a brunch like ours.

These meals are some of my favorites. The more people we have over, the better. The jokes we make alongside the waffles/eggs/bacon/pancakes/potatoes are nourishment themselves. I love the entertainment, the carefree attitude of the weekend, and of course our amazing food. Our brunches remind me how much I enjoy and appreciate hospitality--giving over receiving. I always find my community in meals, in making and sharing great food and better conversation.

One-Word Wednesday

Could you get your message across in one word sentences? Today I challenged myself to do that (mostly via text). I'm not a woman of many words (until I drink caffeine or alcohol), preferring to write (duh), but it was still tough to condense what I wanted to say into one word. I had to get creative with descriptions, which led to being more accurate while at the same time more confusing. By the end of the day, I found it hard to not word vomit everywhere; I kept thoughts in my head to spew out once my self-imposed challenge ended.

A simple Google search of "one word" brings up some fun things--apparently I'm not the only one challenging myself this way, nor am I the only one who recognizes the power of solo words:

oneword.com : they give you one word, you type for 60 seconds. It's about "being inspired by words." If you choose, you can register & upload your flow. Today's word is "sweep" and I invented a new definition for it: sweet weep. Like happy crying. I sweep fairly often.

myoneword.org : "Change your life with just one word." The idea is to "choose one word that represents what you most hope God will do in you, and focus on it for an entire year." This super overwhelms me. Like defining an entire city with one word (see Eat, Pray, Love --Rome is "sex," New York is "ambition," London is "stuffy," etc.), I think it's neat to think we each have one word that defines us. I just don't think I could ever settle on one word forever. (Maybe my word is overwhelmed?) A search for Chicago's word comes back with "loyal," "husky," "nonchalant," "real," and "straightforward."

oneword365.com : Similar to My One Word, this site is a 2013 New Year's resolution to choose one word to focus on for an entire year. What does it mean if the words I think of first are "wine," "balance," and "pranks" ? When I asked Britney, she said her word would be "supercalifragilisticexpialidocious." Getting the most bang for her buck, that one.

I remember having to do a one word writing exercise in high school. We wrote stories with just one word sentences; it was one of my favorite activities. I write better when posed a challenge, given a specific topic, or made to follow story guidelines--I'm not nearly as overwhelmed by an expanse of white page when my options are limited. In some way limits are freeing. I can't find the story now, though I'm sure it's at home somewhere. It was mostly dialogue, which happens to be my writing forte.

I guess I'll write another...

Trying

Bar. Empty. --Wait. Woman. Alone.
Bartender. "Thirsty?"
"Parched."
"Drink?"
"Beer."
"Enjoy."
"Thanks." Sip. Grimace. Bitter.
"Bad?"
Frown. "Unpracticed."
"Patience."
Door. Man. Sits. "Whiskey. Please."
"Sure." Turns. Pours. Serves.
Downs. "Another."
"Careful."
Wave. Dismissing.
"Grieving?"
"Celebrating." Sarcastic. "Pregnant."
"First?"
"Fourth."
Whistles.
"Exhausted."
"Wife?"
"Same."
Nods.
Woman. Eavesdropping. Sighs. Bottle.
Emptied. Empty.
Leaves. Leaving.
Stops. Whispers. "Congrats."

Serendipitous

Even though I believe everything happens for a reason, it's a rare occurrence when I learn that reason in a timely manner. Usually it's months or years before I look back and think, "Oh yeah, I'm glad it went that way." Not so a few weeks ago: I experienced instant serendipity, a moment when I knew at least one reason why my day went the way it did.

It was supposed to be a simple Friday at work: my last day with M before his summer camp, finishing up laundry before the weekend, stocking up on groceries, and overseeing a fix to the new cable/internet/phone line installed a day earlier. Enter flash summer storm. In the middle of a 100 degree day, the rain started and didn't let up. It came down, sideways, and in sheets. Hail joined the rain for several seconds. The wind announced its presence by tipping the solid metal patio table over, umbrella and all. Oh, and the power went out.

The AT&T service guy came not long after that, and I had to let him know there wasn't much he could do since we had no power. He answered some questions and left M and me in the humid darkness. Laundry sat sudsy in the washer and damp in the dryer. I begged M to stop opening and closing the fridge and freezer, even though the cold air felt great. Without A/C, we laid on the floor sweating without moving.

I still needed to get groceries, so I left M to his own devices and escaped for a bit to Jewel, but not before having to fix the garage door, which went a little crazy during the storm. I made sure to get ice cream--M and I both needed it and besides, the kid was headed to northern Minnesota in a few days, where he'd miss home comforts.

Back home, I learned the power was back. I also learned the phone line was completely out. On my cell, I volleyed calls between AT&T and H, troubleshooting and explaining the situation. Thanks to faulty installation the day before, plus the power outage, the backup generator had zero charge and wasn't supplying power. M chose all the times I was on the phone to ask me questions, beg me to watch YouTube videos on his iPod, and dribble around a soccer ball.

People: I was frazzled. I left work that day with a shirt damp with sweat and hair plastered to my head. I rode home through a light sprinkle, something I was grateful for as it helped cool me down. Still, I was drenched when I got back to The Naw. I needed a freeze pop and a gentle friend. I called Becca as I unwound from the day, the week. My three day weekend had finally begun and I didn't want to think about work until Tuesday.

We caught up for a bit; I mentioned going to Milwaukee on Monday to see a Brewer game for Quinn's birthday. "I'm going to a Brewers game on Monday too," Becca said. "I think. Let me check." Sure enough, we were going to be at the same game. For two people who used to live together, but currently live in two different states, meeting up in a third state is wonderful. Knowing I'd see Becca the next Monday made my Friday night.

All at once I realized why my day at work was so trying. If not for that, I wouldn't have felt the need to talk to Becca afterwards. I would have came home feeling great about my weekend, ate dinner, had drinks, etc...and very likely wouldn't even know Becca would be in Milwaukee with me on Monday. If not for having a tough day, Becca and I might have attended the Brewer game unaware of each other's presence. And if that would have happened? Unacceptable. Thank you, Universe!