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One without the universe, teachers without classrooms, lessons without plans…Oh wait, this isn’t a yoga site…It’s everything I ever learned about learning…read at your own peril…
Confession time.
Once again I find myself on the outside looking in.
At 54 years old, you would think that sort of thing wouldn't bother me anymore. After all, I managed to chart a pretty good course through 75 percent of my life span undeterred and undaunted by my quirkiness and without an overriding need to fit in.
Except this time, I think I would rather like to. You know, fit in.
You see, I am the only one in my family and circle of friends without a smart phone.
In the world of amazing things, let's toss last week in there.
The fact that somehow the journalism gods smiled and the school newspaper went to press (minus all the things that will get you fired) and without the arrest of a certain crazy adviser (that would be me) who was nanoseconds from setting her hair on fire, smacking the children upside their little pointy heads and driving off into the sunset in true Thelma and Louise fashion.
Yep, it was that kind of deadline. Now, I get to concentrate on all things yearbook. Oh, joy. And finalize my six weeks grades. Oh, more joy. And update Blackboard. Oh, geewillikers, more joy.
So instead of re-hashing, re-living and re-igniting those set-your-hair-on-fire-moments of last week, I thought I would honor some commitments I made before school started. I promised Karen Blumenthal, a former Dallas Morning News coworker, former Wall Street Journal editor and Dallas journalist, that I would read her two new books and provide a little review (which I would have done earlier but that pesky newspaper deadline got in the way).