I know, I know.

It's been awhile since my last post. I am aware of this. Specifically, it has been a month and 10 days. Forgive me, life has been CRAZY. Since writing about all of the crazy in paragraph form would take about 14 paragraphs to write, I'm going for the bulleted version instead.

• School is out. (I know. Duh. It's June.) The last few weeks of class I was trying desperately to pack up my room to move across the building (for no good reason, mind you, but that's a whole other post), while still trying to teach my students some semblance of math. But it's over, my kids passed and are headed to high school, and everything in my room has been packed and moved. I hope.
• Cheer camp has come and gone. Thank goodness for the gone part. Oh my word, this was the most stressful camp ever. Now, keep in mind this is only one of two cheer camps I have ever been to in my life, but this one definitely comes out on top as far as stress levels go. Examples of the mishaps that occured while at camp: twisted knee, burned finger, 2 lost dorm keys, the lock getting changed on mine and Amanda's room for no apparent reason, broken wrist, and three girls getting stuck in the dorm elevator. The last four things on that list happened the last day we were at camp. ALL OF THEM. Within a four hour period. Sheesh.
• Grad school has begun. The first day, when I received my syllabus from my professor, I almost hyperventilated. Seriously. This class is 3 weeks long, consisting of 3 Friday classes and 3 Saturday classes, and these were the requirements: an interview with a counselor in the field in which we are interested, then a 6-8 page paper on said interview; a 45-minute group presentation on a chapter from the book which we were not covering in class but yet which the professor feels we need to be knowledgeable about; a literature review, 7-10 pages, over a counseling topic of our choice (mine is bullying - I deal with it on a daily basis, I may as well know more about it); a final test covering the first 9 chapters in our book. In three weeks. Hyperventilation. But it really has worked out fine. The interview and said paper is finished and turned in, the presentation is Friday, and the paper and the final are due Saturday. Cross your fingers, I might actually get an A.
• I ventured to Seattle for 5 days in the midst of all the crazy. Probably the most fun trip I've had out there yet. It was so so nice for me to see the life that my girl Alida has begun to build for herself. She is so much more comfortable, knowledgeable, and any other -able you can think of in terms of living out there. It was awesome to get to know her friends and put faces to the names she's been spouting for the past 6 months. She surprised me with tickets to Avenue Q as a Happy Grad School present!!! I was so excited...and surprised. She and her friends kept waiting for me to catch onto the fact that we were going, but you know me. Too trusting. Alida told me we were going to see this one-man show that her roommate was producing, so I believed her. Silly me. We went up to the theater that had a HUGE Avenue Q banner running down the side. Lindsey: "Oh, this must be the same theater that Avenue Q is being held in. How fun!" Clueless. They hand me my ticket, which has the words "Avenue Q" printed in the middle of it. Lindsey: "Oh, this man's name above Avenue Q must be the one-man show we're going to see. They just must be advertising for Avenue Q a lot!" Still nothing. We walk inside, past the lady in an Avenue Q t-shirt, handing out Avenue Q programs. Lindsey: "There must be a showing of Avenue Q in the main theater! Which theater is Angel's play in?" I am an idiot. It wasn't until we actually walked into the main theater and I was handed one of the aformentioned Avenue Q programs that it clicked. I stopped dead, stared at Alida, and yelled, "What are we seeing?!?!", causing an entire row of other playgoers to laugh hysterically at the Texas girl who is obviously clueless. Awesome. It was everything I'd hoped for, and more. As was the trip.
• I came back from Seattle last Wednesday, just in time for my dad to break his leg on Thursday. It's really not as bad as it sounds, although there's really no other way to say it. He slipped on some mud at a job site he was looking at and rolled his ankle underneath his foot (I'm still not sure exactly how this happened, and he obviously is in no position to show me at the present time). He has broken his fibula, which is the back bone in your calf. It is not the weight-bearing bone (the tibula - I've learned so much from this), thank goodness, since then he would have probably had to have had surgery, but it is still uber-painful. He is on crutches and a "cast" right now (I use this term loosely, since it is really just a glorified splint) with strict orders not to put any weight on it whatsoever. Lucky for him, it's his right leg - so he can't drive. My mom has been driving him around since Thursday, and it's my turn this week. Yay.

I think that's the extent of the crazy. Oh yes, and in the middle of all of this, I'm trying to have some semblence of a life. It has it's moments. But that's another day.