I am not a fan of the photoshoot. I like to take the pictures, not be in them. But because so many people haven't seen it... here are some pix:
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Thursday, April 23, 2009
April is always the busiest month of the jr. high world of dancers and leaders of the cheerers.
Exhausted, I lived the last few weeks without memories or ZZZZs. I met with the aspiring leaders at 6:30 in the a.m. all week. When the ipod dropped the beats of my summer mix at 5:45 a.m., it made my early mornings a smitch easier to handle (which isn't saying much). With this new short spikey do my primp time is next to nothing. I wake up, arise a few minutes later, and I am on the road by 6. This does not make for patient, kind, fun-loving Ms. Doyle. Quite the opposite, I am cranked out.
Friends and family willing judge my tryouts every year, and actually plans life around them because they are so fun. Plus I feed them well, fruits and veggies plus everything from the sugarplum wish list (and cheese for my European side). I am excited for my new team. They seem happy and nice (an exact opposite of what I have to deal with now). Lets hope for the best.
Last night finished a second week of tryouts, this time its the dancing kind. The twirlers and leapers (not to be confused with lepers). Actually its been such a long month that I am just realizing that tryouts were today, not yesterday. sheesh. I have two new teams and I'm almost ready to pretend I don't even know the teams I have this year (if one's dreams could come true).
My first year teaching I called all the candidates, giving encouragement for those that didn't make it and congratulations for those that did. It broke my heart to crush their dreams of popularity and fame. I vowed to never do that again. Now I just write the numbers on a paper, tape it to the front doors, and run away in my cowardice. They are left to check the list and cry where I can't see their tears. Then they avoid me in the halls. sad. A catch 22.