Blinded

I wanted you
To be my light,
So I put sunglasses on.
I imagined you
So very bright,
But my perception was all wrong.
The shades obscured
My point of view,
And when I finally removed them,
There you stood,
A faded blue,
A rock and not a gem.
My shoulders slumped
And head dropped low
As disappointment reigned;
Cupid must have
Bent his arrow
When he nocked and aimed.

~Heidi Joens

"She steps out of the room and returns with a small portrait of her face in profile. Her hair is pulled back off her forehead and her lips are creased in a Mona Lisa smile. Booth thanks Lucy and gives her a long last look. He then turns and walks out of the Hales' suite, explaining breezily that he is off to get a shave, wondering if he will ever make it to Spain to see Lucy again.

As he walks back down the hallway, the sound of the closing door still echoing in the corridor, he admires the picture and slips it into his breast pocket, next to the pictures of four other women who have enjoyed his charms. The life of a narcissist is often cluttered.

The pictures will remain in Booth's pocket for the rest of his short life."

~Killing Lincoln

This book gives so much insight to the people and the era around the time of Lincoln's death and the end of the Civil War. So much is discovered about the character of John Wilkes Booth - who he is, his personal interests, his beliefs and morals - and he is just one of many people in our nation's history that the authors highlight. I have to say, I was a fan of Lincoln before, and after reading so much about his priorities, his conduct, and how he made his decisions, my respect for him has increased dramatically. The book reads like a thriller and many of the chapters end with a profound statement like the one mentioned above. I love the author's simple explanation of Booth's overall character that can be made after discussing his romantic interests: "The life of a narcissist is often cluttered."

Tongue-Tied

I feel trapped inside my head
With words I dare not speak.
If I voice them,
You might hear,
And then you'd know everything.
Like a puzzle
You would place the pieces
That are so easy to match,
But I'm not ready
To be solved.
I only feel safe
Behind this secret -
I don't care
If that makes me weak.
These words are mine,
Known only to me.

~Heidi Joens

After every interaction between us

It's there -

A knot of anger twisting inside me

Made from a string of hope

Meddled by imprecations

I make on myself

For being so daft to hope for such a thing.

It swells until my breathing quickens

And I nearly choke on the tangled mess.

But my composure I keep as my strength I regain -

Stronger the longer

You are away.

The knot unravels

And I nearly forget

All the trouble this was -

Until we meet again.

You will never change,

And as well you will never know

How I suffer each time we get close.

~Heidi Joens

I love field experience in being a teacher!!

"Hi Ms. Joens!"

I stopped in the middle of writing Math problems on the board and turned to see José, Carolina, and Leo, three of the 4th graders in the class I assist in twice a week. Now crossing the room to meet them, I returned the greeting, "Good morning guys!"

"Can we come in?"

Their teacher had stepped out of the room and left me with the task of creating Math warm-up problems before her class arrived for the day. Usually she had them wait outside in a line if she was not yet in the room. Not wanting to disrupt her morning routine, I hesitated in my response, debating whether or not it was a good idea.

"Well...I'm not so sure your teacher wants you in the room without her here."

"But you're a teacher!" Leo protested.

"Actually I'm not quite there yet. Still studying to be one.."

"But you look like one," José added.

I laughed at this and over dramatically brushed some hair back with my hand while using the other to gesture toward my clothes saying, "I try, I try."

They all laughed at my sudden change in character and then asked it they would be having another sub today (they had had one the past two days).

"No, your real teacher's back today!"

They were grateful for that, and I decided to inform them that I would have the chance to teach them a Math lesson a week from today. "But, you will have another sub on that day," I told them.

"Oh man! Too many subs!" Leo complained.

"But I'll be here too!" I tried to offer.

"Yeah but you're never here the whole day!" José reminded me (I only stay until 10am)

I couldn't help but smile because nearly every day that I am there someone lets me know they are disappointed that I always have to leave "so early". It's nice to know they like me!

"I'll tell you what, I will let you in if you promise to sit quietly for your teacher and start those Math problems on the board."

"Yes ma'am!"

They really are such a polite bunch.

Those kids are getting comfortable with me now and are raising their hands asking for "Ms. Joens" when they don't understand a problem and are always trying to tell me little stories and figure out some more information about me. As I was standing by Ana's desk today she asked, "Do you still have my bunny?" About a week ago she had drawn me a picture of a bunny eating carrots with the words "From Ana". It was so precious I had to keep it. "Yes," I reassured her with a smile, "I have it at my apartment."

And as always whenever I have to leave, the class burst out in a chorus of "Bye Ms. Joens!" and "See you next week!" all wildly waving their arms. They truly have captured my hearts and I know I am going to love, absolutely love, being a teacher! :)

"...What a transfiguration it is to love! Notary clerks become gods. And the little shrieks, the pursuits in the grass, the waists encircled by stealth, the jargon that is melody, the adoration that breaks through in the way a syllable is said, those cherries snatched from one pair of lips by another - it all catches fire and turns into celestial glories. Beautiful girls lavish their charms with sweet prodigality. We imagine it will never end. Philosophers, poets, painters behold these ecstasies and don't know what to make of them, they are so dazzling." - Victor Hugo in Les Miserables

There was never a man like Rhett

I can't quite describe what it was like reading through Gone With the Wind. Yes, it was a long book (959 pages!), but so worth the read. I learned so much from the novel, not just about the characters but about the time period. The Civil War completely changed our nation, and this novel, as author Margaret Mitchell says, is not one of romance, but rather a story about survival.Even with that being said, I cannot tell you how entertaining it was to read the dialogue between Scarlett and Rhett. I have never before read about characters such as these...they're so unique and so... devilish. I included a bit of their dialogue here just to give a sample of their interchange,but honestly, you have to read the book and get to know their characters in order to truly appreciate it.

It makes me sad to think about how when this book was published in the late 1930's it was as popular as Twilight is today. Can you imagine everyone you know picking up a book that is almost 1000 pages, written the way it is, and actually reading through the whole thing just for pleasure? These things don't happen anymore, unless the book involves vampires and teen romance. Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed reading the Twilight Saga just as much as the next person, but what has happened to our desire to truly read?? I am the only one my age that Iknow of who has actually read Gone With the Wind, and I can honestly say it is my favorite novel! And because of how unpopular it is today, I feel like it is my own little secret. Such brilliance lies within those pages.

"I don't care for such personal conversation," she said coolly and managed a frown. "Besides, I'd just as soon kiss a pig."

"There's no accounting for tastes and I've always heard the Irish were partial to pigs - kept them under their beds, in fact. But, Scarlett, you need kissing badly. That's what's wrong with you. All your beaux have respected you too much, though God knows why, or they have been too afraid of you to really do right by you. The result is that you are unendurably uppity. You should be kissed and by someone who knows how."

The conversation was not going the way she wanted it. It never did when she was with him. Always, it was a duel in which she was worsted.

"And I suppose you think you are the proper person?" she asked with sarcasm, holding her temper in check with difficulty.

"Oh, yes, if I cared to take the trouble," he said carelessly. "They say I kiss very well."

"Oh," she began, indignant at the slight to her charms. "Why, you..." But her eyes fell in sudden confusion. He was smiling, but in the dark depths of his eyes a tiny light flickered for a brief moment, like a small raw flame.

"Of course, you've probably wondered why I never tried to follow up that chaste peck I gave you, the day I brought you that bonnet - "

"I have never - "

"Then you aren't a nice girl, Scarlett, and I'm sorry to hear it. All really nice girls wonder when men don't try to kiss them. They know they shouldn't want them to and they know they must act insulted if they do, but just the same, they wish the men would try... Well, my dear, take heart. Some day, I will kiss you and you will like it. But not now, so I beg you not to be too impatient."

--Gone With the Wind by Margaret Mitchell