End of Year Memo

Well, another year has come and gone (I work off the school calendar) and many good-byes  were said last week. Along with many verbal good-byes, I received a plethora of written farewells. It just wouldn't be a teacher's blog if I didn't write some of them down, hiding the identities of course. The following are written below exactly how they were written to me:

• Thank you for meeting all of my mathematical needs in this opressive establishment. I feel that This will Help me in the future. Ha Ha! Have a nice summer! I'm not sure how seriously to take this kid; what does he mean by 'Ha Ha!'?
• Mr. Bennett, You are super awesome! I have learned so much in your class! You should work on your jokes. P.S. You have an awesome laugh. My laugh, as well as my puns, were a constant source of ridicule by my students.
• OMG! UR the Best teacher ever I enjoyed having u as a teacher I'm going to visit u everyday wait I'll try! LOL UR so nice! Ima Miss u! P.S. I think you should work on your jokes. Bye! This entry is a perfect example of how a 13 year old girl's mind works. She is all over the place; she can't even finish her own sentences.
•  You make funny jokes in class. They're corny, but funny. 'In the mouth of two or three witnesses...'
• Dear Mr. Bennett, Your the best math teacher in the world. no doubt.  No Doubt. Dang straight.

There were many other hilarious things said by many students, and I'm really going to miss them. For now, however, it's time to chill out and enjoy S-U-M-M-E-R! I'm headed to Boston in two weeks, then Lake Winnepesaukee, then Belize, then back to Boston for my brother's wedding.

Motorcycle Passengers

As you know from an earlier post, there are many different types of motorcycle riders. As it turns out, there are many different types of motorcycle passengers as well. Summer is here in DC and I have giving many rides on Stella to a variety of people. The only men I've ridden with are my relatives- my brother, my father, my uncle. When men ride on the back of my bike they do their best to stay as far away from me as possible. They lean against the backrest and choose to dangle their hands on the side of the bike, risking losing their digits in the wheels, than to hold on to my waist. I don't feel them and they don't touch me.
And then... there's the female variety.
I need to refrain from using names here in case any of my riders are also readers. The first type  is the non-nervous, perhaps experienced rider who casually steps onto the bike and acts like she owns the thing. She hangs on loosely to my shirt as more of a tease to me than anything else. Go ahead, show me what you got. I'll stay on even without holding on.
The next type is the passionate type. I don't mean to go all 50 Shades of Grey on you, but the passionate type caresses her hands all over your upper body as you ride through the streets at casual or blazing speeds. Sometimes she keeps one hand on your waist and the other on your pecs, sometimes she keeps both hands on your abs (or in my case, your pillow), sometimes she rests her hands on your thighs, and sometimes she just moves her hands all over your frontal thorax like she's waxing a car. The passionate type is also known to attempt to rest her head on your shoulders when you're on a leisurely ride. This is a very awkward thing. The motorcycle helmets I have are meant to be safe, not convenient. They are big. The closest skin can get to skin with these helmets on is roughly 2 feet. Imagine a chastity belt for your lips (and whole head) and this is what you get. So when a girl tries to rest her chin on your shoulder while you are riding there is no place for your head but to go cockeyed. Well, riding with your head in such a position that it looks like you have a cell phone between your ear and your shoulder is not cool for anyone. But, it still happens.
Yet another type is the scared stiff type. When she is a passenger it is physically impossible to choke on your gum because the Heimlich is being applied consistently and constantly for the duration of your ride, and sometimes after if she can't unstick herself from you when the bike turns off. The scared stiff passenger starts to scream for her life when you go above 30 mph and is known to shout directly into your ear, "SLOW DOWN. PLEASE!" Ahh, she's a great passenger.
I have been on some great rides already this year and I have no doubt they will continue. I sure love Stella.

Hanging Out With the Boys

You'll never believe what I did this weekend: I hung out with some guys.
As many of you know, I much prefer female companionship and my good friends always seem to be girls. Even consider this blog- with the exception of some loyal, lifelong guy friends, 90% of my 10 readers are female (most of them married, in fact).
 If you want to catch me speechless ask me who my best guy friend is. The last time that happened I thought about it for 2 minutes and then responded 'My home teaching companion.' At least I hang out with him once a month. That's 1 more time than any other guy I know. I have been on many man-dates before, it's true, but those were mostly with my best friend Kent, who lives in Utah. He's my best man friend (beside my brother and brother-in-laws) but we don't exactly hang out often on Friday nights, given that he lives in Utah and that he's 25 years my senior. But anyway, back to this weekend. Saturday in DC was B-E-A-U-T-I-F-U-L so I went for a run along the river (that's code for 'I'm a loser and had no other invitations on Saturday so I went for a lovely run by myself, which it was'). When I got back a guy acquaintance texted me to see what I was up to. Hm. Not quite sure what to do there. I immediately texted a girl to see if she wanted to hang out with me and this other guy. Heaven forbid we guys hang out together- just the two of us. What would we talk about? Sports? Money? Girls? Cars? I have no idea, this had never happened to me before. My female friend was in Jew Nersey so that rescue was ruled out. After much deliberation I decided to just face my fears and hang out with this man friend. You'll never grow unless you face your fears, like two men hanging out or watching a scary movie such as Air Bud Goes to a Haunted Mansion. I did, however, call up a third guy from my ward that I've never hung out with but that I think is really cool (see that manly terminology- 'really cool'). He agreed so everything was just peachy until I realized I had no idea what we were going to do. We couldn't do my usual DC go-to Summer night activities: motorcycle rides, movies, walks along the river, or picnicing at Gravelly Point (for the record I have never done the latter two). Luckily I've seen a few movies where guys were interacting with other guys off the sports field, and since I take most of my social cues from realistic movies like 'Serendipity' where John Cusack talks to a male waiter, I knew the thing for us men to do was watch a sports game. At a bar. So off we three went to the Arlington Rooftop Bar and Grille. It was pretty crowded, but we found a table and began eating greasy food like steak, french fries, and buffalo wings. We drank manly Mormon drinks like diet Coke and diet Coke with grenadine. We talked manly things like chain saws, clubbing, bottled water, and grassy turf. We saw manly women, and more attractive women. We talked about them. We watched a basketball game. We watched a hockey game. We discussed money. We discussed some things that I cannot repeat given my aforementioned audience (but which were appropriate, mind you).
When the night came to a close I was surprised at how well everything turned out, except for the terrible live band that sounded like a pod of dolphins being attacked by a swarm of wasps. Seriously they were terrible. I think I might have to try out another man's night out again...