Guess what I was doing this weekend? Visiting the wonderful world of Nostalgia.

1.People do not change much, relatively speaking. A pair of corollaries demonstrate this:

a.The girl who would have been voted Biggest Flirt (had your school done such shenanigans) would still be elected Biggest Flirt. However, it’s a much more dangerous title now because everyone present is of legal drinking age, and who knows what can happen.

b.The bar/grill/banquet room/picnic shelter/dance floor where the reunion is held resembles your high school cafeteria circa fifteen years ago. The athletes had their reserved tables, and the mortals sat somewhere else. The same is true at the reunion, except the mortals no longer give a rat’s ass about the athletes because the athletes have protruding bellies and receding hairlines. The male ones, too.

2.Inevitably, a drunken guy will shuffle over to the jukebox where you are picking some sweet tunes, and punch in a random number, completely usurping one of your plays.

3.The guy who was the dark horse Prom King candidate turns out to be a lawyer.

4.You will meet people that inspire you, like the person who freelances for a living or the person who is moving to Zambia in, like, two weeks.

5.The B-52’s “Love Shack” will be played at least once on the jukebox. Which is fine. The 25-minute B-side by The Doors is not.

6.Being sober at a function like this is way more fun than the alternative.

7.You realize the popular kid you elected your Class President is not a very good organizer, and thus you should have nominated somebody who had a vision for the future.

8.The guy you had a crush on is no longer as appealing as he was back in 1993.

9.Those of you who attend the reunion realize you should elect a Reunion King and Queen, and preferably, these people should not have gone to your high school.

10.People you haven’t spoken to you for fifteen years will all of a sudden want to sloppily hug you as you leave for the night.

Warning: This post may contain hypocritical material. Please be advised.

This is a complaining, whiny post about complainers.

At the beginning of the school year, the faculty here at the high school where I work were required to join committees, supposedly for the improvement of the school. Ok. So, I joined the technology committee, because I like that stuff and I feel I'm pretty savvy as well.

My committee is made up of about nine members, about six of which are younger and/or more motivated teachers. The other three are five years max away from retirement and teach in areas they claim aren't affected much by technology...this would be a gym teacher, an art teacher, and an agriculture teacher

The ag teacher especially has become the squeaky wheel of our committee. At every turn he questions the purpose of our committee. Every topic of conversation is stalemated by him and his issues. On the worst of days, he takes the committee business way off topic with stories of his own adventures. He's one of those types who thinks his way is the best, nobody does it as well as him, etc. etc.

And I have just about had it.

I would like to think that I'm very tolerant of other people. At the very least, I keep my mouth shut and don't go around telling people off. However, with this guy, I feel like I might go ballistic on him sometime soon. He's not just pissing me off, but he's making it hell for our team leader. She's just trying to do what the district is asking her to, and he's being a pain in the ass.

Not that colleagues would ever be at the top of my list of reasons why I'd quit...but yeah, definitely this guy and his ilk would be on there somewhere.

No, I'm not talking about Frankie Valli and the. Nor am I discussing the posh hotel chain.

I am extrapolating on one of the supreme benefits of living in the Midwest.

The four seasons. Winter. Spring. Summer. Fall.

Now, I am one of those types who will make the most of wherever I'm at and whenever I am, so, depending on the current season, THAT season is my favorite, and I have nothing but good things to say about it. Except for winter - I rarely rave about winter.

However, fall is truly my most favorite season. The trees are just starting to turn here, and I love that. It reminds me that Mother Earth is preparing for her sleep. The mornings are cooler, and windows at my house are left open, but it's blissfully sunny and warm when I come home.

This brings me to a minor gripe about my job. Working inside a hermetically-sealed, artifically-cooled environment all day, I completely lose touch with the outdoors. I hate that feeling. I'm sure this is the EarthMama in me, but I really miss being able to see, feel or be outside for at least a few minutes out of every day.

If I had a part-time job or did some freelancing, this would no longer be a problem. Heck, I could even do some of my writing outside on the porch, which would be awesome. I feel like I would actively and astutely be able to watch and feel the Earth change.

And well, I think I would feel less like a thing and more of a being.

Yep, so it's Homecoming Week here at my high school.

That week of utter craziness in which the Student Council completely burns themselves out like a supernova to create a fun week for the student body, only to have said student body gripe their butts off about various issues, i.e. the Homecoming Court, the Homecoming Theme, the Dress Up Days, ad nauseum.

But, you know what? I'm not bitter. Not really. I don't mind it. It breaks up the month, and gives everyone something to look forward to. I happen to be one of those teachers whom students go to first for faculty participation. In fact, I'm the scorekeeper at tonight's PowderPuff Volleyball. Pretty rad, right?

Seriously, though, here is MY one problem. Homecoming King and Queen. These positions are pointless. They are simply figureheads. Three-quarters of the student body honestly could care less, and the other quarter gets too bent out of shape about it. The nomination of the Court is absolutely a joke. Two weeks before, the senior class is given a list of senior boys and girls...they all circle five. WHAT? It's all a popularity contest; whose name is the most heard in senior circles? Ooh, Homecoming Queen!! Never mind that she's been caught drinking at parties, doesn't participate in any community activities, and has a GPA lower than a speed bump's IQ.

I dunno, I just think there should be some kind of application/interview process. And if the powers that be think my idea is ridiculous because BY GOLLY, IT'S TRADITION...then we should get rid of the royalty all together.

*Collective gasp*

Doom on me.

End communique.

So, here I am. White, middle class female. Three kids, stable marriage, nice house, solid income, able to enjoy most comforts of life.

I work as a teacher at the local high school. I would say my job is fairly secure. It has its ups and downs, but for the most part I would categorize my work life as OK. I don't hate it, but I don't love it.

And that is why I am thinking about getting out.

This year, for the first time in my life, I was not energized by the first day of school. I was not looking forward to school starting. The kids have not changed drastically, but I don't enjoy being with them as much anymore. Colleagues that I normally enjoy socializing with have recently begun to get on my nerves. I feel that I have become less of a teacher and more of a facilitator...or some other word that really is not that cool. It's all about the test scores, or getting off THE LIST, or another initiative designed to help kids, but is actually too complicated and cumbersome to really implement.

There are a lot of other things coming into play here, but my dissatisfaction with my job is top of the list. And I don't see it changing soon. I feel like in someways I'm seeing the writing on the wall and getting out before it's too late and I become bitter.

However, not being a fancy-free twenty-something anymore, there has to be a plan. Brent says there was to be a plan. I can't just quit, and wander aimlessly in the wilderness. There are bills to be paid and kids to be provided for.

So - the question is now: What do I want to do for a living that will allow me to be a good mom and wife, and yet will contribute to the GNP in some way?

Well, I know what I'd like to do for a living. This. Write. Obviously, I probably wouldn't get paid for blogging, but freelance writing might take care of some of the bills, yes? I love to write, and I even fancy that I'm moderately good at it. But could I do it professionally? There's the deep jump into the unknown.

I don't have all the answers yet. But times, they are a-changing.