People Blog Still?

I mean, of course they do.

How else would we learn about women's opinions on leggings or the right way to handle vaccinations or the ten best ways to keep the spark in your relationship?

But in my world, for the most part, blogging has disintegrated slightly. I've been mildly distracted. Let me give you a rundown.

I student taught in Tonga.
I student taught in the states.
I started dating the greatest human ever.
I turned in my senior portfolio (twice).
I graduated/earned my teaching license.
I got a job teaching photography at the very same high school I attended a few years back.
I got engaged to the greatest human ever. 

Now I'm swamped with lesson plans, grading, stress headaches, wedding plans, and a really messy desk.

Tomorrow we're taking engagement pictures. Stay tuned, because we're really in love and we'll probably look pretty cute.


Baby Boy

 I love nephews.


Me'a a

Just a matter of days until I peace out to this joint:

Before then, I have to do the following:
Learn how to breathe
Prepare an art program for Tonga High
Write a research paper on Picasso's Analytical Cubism period
Learn the entire second half of my art history course
Take an art history final

So, what I'm trying to say is that I don't have time to be writing a blog post right now. It's fine.

Send help.
Me'a a, people.



In just a few days, she'll be holding a baby instead of her belly.


Good News

My heart feels like it evaporated because sometimes things just work out beautifully in unexpected ways.

Cheers to stress relief.



Gather 'round, children, and listen to the most embarrassing thing that I just remembered.

In ninth grade, I took a biology class. I went to a charter school and I was required to take that class, along with wearing a uniform, which included a cross-tie, a button up shirt, a khaki skirt, and some lovely knee socks that probably only went up to my ankles because I was so tall.

My proudest moment in that biology class was when my teacher wrote on the board, H2O2 and asked, "Does anyone know what this is?" Nobody did. Except me. So I raised my hand and said, "Isn't it hydrogen peroxide?" She was so proud of me. I was so proud of the science class I had the previous year that made me do a report on hydrogen peroxide. We were all proud.

Until one day we took a particular test.

I don't remember all of the content of the test, but I remember there was a list of terms we needed to understand, "niche" being one of the terms. I knew the definitions of each word, and unfortunately I can't remember what else was on the list, because it would make the memory that much more hysterical to me.

The last questions on the test related to a long paragraph, talking about the harvestman arachnid. However, while reading the paragraph (and let's be honest, I probably briefly skimmed the paragraph), I did not realize that the harvestman was a bug, but rather I thought it was a man who harvests things. So after reading the paragraph, the test asked questions that tested our knowledge of vocabulary. I only remember one question, it being, "What is the niche of the harvestman?" I thought it was weird that we were applying the terms we'd studied to real-world situations, rather than to something more scientific but I answered the questions the best I could.

We turned in the tests, and then we were all given someone else's test to grade (which is the most disagreeable method of grading, ever). We began going through each answer, marking down any of our peers' answers that were incorrect. And then we got down to the last questions. I looked at the answers on the test I was grading. I then realized that the harvestman question was about something scientific, and that I was totally mistaken when I answered the questions. WHY DIDN'T I REALIZE THIS QUESTION WAS ABOUT A BUG? I asked myself, mildly embarrassed about the misunderstanding.

Since the questions were open-ended, students began raising their hands, asking if the question they were grading was correct.


Then Katie raised her hand and said in a questioning voice, "This person said, 'The niche of the harvestman is to harvest the fields.'"

The class, including the teacher, burst into insane laughter. I laughed, too, so that nobody would connect the dots and realize that I was the one who answered the question. My teacher said, "I didn't know a harvestman could do that." Everyone kept laughing. Then the teacher said, "Mark the question wrong. They were probably just joking."

Everyone added up the points and started handing the tests back to their respective owners. Katie brought me my test, and I said in a laughing voice, "Yeah, I was just joking about that last question."

I'm sure she didn't believe me, because I was the most timid person in the entire school.

I have never shown my face in public since that day.