Yoga Chicks

I don’t know if there is anything stranger than a chick that is really into Yoga. I am going to give it the old college try and describe the level of craziness that most chicks that do Yoga are in. I’ll admit that the first time I met one of these new aged calm and open minded dames I was fooled. The fact that she spoke with a soft tone, could contort her body into the shape of a pretzel, and was lathered in essential oils kind of threw me off. I guess I associated confidence with Yoga chicks.

I suppose I should of listened to Teddy Roosevelt’s advice “Keep calm and don’t try and date Yoga Chicks.”  Anyway, as time has gone on I have begun to realize that women that are really, really, really into yoga are really, really, really bat shiz crazy.

 The other night I was chatting up a girl who sat in front of me at my yoga class. She was attractive and seemingly normal and when I say normal I mean that she didn’t have a super high voice or an extra appendage. Throughout the beginning of the class I made eye contact with her a half a dozen times.

 Then, It came time for our warior one posses. I had my arms straight, my hands forward, and my legs in runners lunge position. I looked forward and noticed that the  that fly yogi right in front of me was doing the same yoga position with one exception.  Her hands clenched together in the shape of a gun. Slowly the yogi bent her upper body backwards, so much so that her head and upper body was facing me but were upside down. Meanwhile  her lower body faced the exact opposite direction.

 She then looked at me with her face upside down. She extended her hands in gun shape pose number two towards me and pretended to shoot me. The yogi smiled and gave me a wink and then went back to normal warrior one position.

Now if I have painted my encounter with this woman as something that is sexy, I apologize. Really all this woman needed to was to eject green vomit from her mouth for me to believe that she was in need of an excorcism. No body and I mean no body should ever look like that.

Anyway this is one of a handful of experiences that lead me to believe that Yoga chicks may not be as confident and edgy as they want you to believe. I think that when you attempt to flirt with a man you hardly know while your torso is going the exact opposite way that it should be, you may have a problem.  

What Grinds My Gears

You want to know what grinds my gears?

             When a girl you don’t like thinks you like them. There is nothing more frustrating in the entire world than trying to maintain a friendship with an female that thinks that you like them. It is a constant barrage of “you’re a really great guy, I’m glad we are friends.” And “I don’t think I could ever date you.”  I’ve even had girls sit me down and say “I’m not really interested in you” When I have had no interest in being in a relationship with them.

            What are you supposed to say when someone tells you that you don’t have a shot with them, when you haven’t been at all interested in taking a shot? I’ll tell you one thing you can’t do. You can’t get emotional and tell them you haven’t ever liked them, because then they just think that you are taking the breakup poorly. You can’t tell them that you are dating other people because then they think you are playing it cool. The only thing you can do is just sit there and let them finish their monologue on the subject of why you suck. 

You are subject to hearing things that are wrong with you when you really have no interest in hearing such a thing. There is no need for a woman you don’t like to tell you that you just aren’t her type, you don’t hold the door open for them, aren't serious enough, or that she is really just isn't looking for anything but friendship at the current moment.

            You just sit there and subject yourself to unwanted and unnecessary critique. I think it may be worse than a regular breakup.  I’m not sure though.

            I have been a victim of this for a very longtime . I remember taking  my friend out to my high school prom because I was too nervous about asking her best friend out. She made sure to tell me a half dozen times that we were just going as friends. I just sat through the “you’re a really great friend” speech taking it like a champ.

            As time has gone on, this problem hasn’t disappeared. I don’t know what it is, but it seems like every girl who's name of begins with a B that is a friend of mine has thought that I liked them, when I never have really liked them… well at least seriously liked them.

             The worst part about the whole endeavor is that at the end of it, I feel the need to make them like me. I feel like they have to start liking me so I can put them through the same crap that they put me through. It is an interesting experience. That much I do know.

Well readers….

I love you… but I don’t like you,

Rom

p.s. 

            Getting broken up with when you are not interested in a girl is almost as bad as when you are trying to work up the courage to talk to some chick at the airport only to have her snubbed out by a much more eager candidate claiming that he is an orthodontist. Not saying that this happened recently. Like right now, as I am typing this blog. 

Five Events Better Than the Creation of the LMU Teacher Credential Program.

          Well readers, 

Summer has come and gone. So to has my sanity, happiness, and well being in life.      

With this being stated, life is a lot better than last year. Really, life is a lot better. I think this is due to the fact that I have finally come to the conclusion that I am not solely responsible for my students horrible lives. In fact, I am one of the only people trying to make their lives better.

                With this in mind there are a few times throughout the week where life still blows. I mean its unavoidable when teaching special ed. I mean honestly, show me a teacher who is excited when he catches one of his children with their hands down their pants and I’ll show you a pedophile.  

                Anyway, readers there is one thing that I hate, more than anything in life. It is my master's program at LMU. I have compiled a couple of events throughout history that are better than the creation of such an evil program. 

                                                                     The Crusades.

Although thousands of innocent Muslims, Catholics, and Jews lost their lives in the countless crusades for Jerusalem, it still gave us Robin Hood and where would society be without Robin Hood?

The Hindenburg Disaster 

The narrator says "Oh the humanity" only once. I say it every time I am in class. 

This movie is really bad, but only hijacked an hour and a half of my life.

Hell 

It's provided a lot of fodder for artists and theologians throughout the years, unlike LMU. 

This Picture that my Student Drew About the Holocaust 

Sorry I'm not Sorry.

Dear Readers,
You may be wondering why I haven't written a blog post in a while. I've thought about why this is for a long while now. There is only one conclusion that I have come to. It is a simple one really. I am happy. I am happy with my life. I am satisfied with everything that is happening in my life, ---with the exception of attending Loyola Marymount University, which I will say should be eradicated from the face of this earth by a large typhoon, hurricane, earthquake, tornado, or fire. Really I cannot express how awful of a place this university is.---. But really besides this fact, I am happy with my life. For the first time since I can remember I am excited to be alive. I am grateful to God for each breath that I take and am thankful for this existence that we call life.
I was released from West Adams Prep in September. It was nothing that I did. The school enrollment fell and LAUSD told West Adams to get rid of one special education teacher. Luckily, I was the one. I left that hell hole and after a week stay as a teacher of the mentally retorted (which I plan on telling you guys about in another blog post) I landed a job as a resource specialist at the proud Legacy High School in Southgate.
The job is difficult, but in comparison to the hell that I had to go through on a daily basis at West Adams Prep, it is a freaking walk in the park. I do not enter my classroom fearing for my life and safety. I help children. I write IEP's and then I go home.
I'm not really dating anyone right now and I am not too concerned about doing so. I've gone on a few dates in the past few months. For instance, a couple of weeks ago I took out this girl who had curly dark hair. She looked like Julia Roberts, so I called her Afro Julia Roberts. I took another girl out who looks like a sexy cat, but for the most part I've just been hanging out with

This is a picture of me but with a beard and turtleneck.

and I am loving me time. 

Readers I am sorry that I haven't written to you. Actually I am not sorry, but I am sorry that I'm not sorry. 

Stop Abuse

It has been an exciting weekend. After the BYU Cougars' defeat of the Texas Longhorns, I decided that it would be in my best interest to purchase a ticket up to the BYU Utah game. Of course, I knew that the Cougs' chances of beating the Utes were slim- not because they are an inferior team, but because the Cougs just can’t seem to beat the Utes. I don’t know what it is.

As I was watching the destruction of the Cougars at the hands of the Utes, the following thought popped into my mind: my relationship with the BYU Cougars is like unto the relationship of a woman who has been abused by her husband/boyfriend. BYU football is the abuser in this relationship and I am the abused. 

Like many who have been abused in their lives, they justify staying in the relationship because of the small acts of kindness shown by the other spouse. These small acts can be in the form of a hug, a kiss, or a kind word. Whatever it is, the event occurs sparingly, and for all those looking from the outside it is never enough to justify what else happens in the relationship. On occasion the Cougars will show me a kind act, such as winning a meaningless bowl game, beating up on a sub-par Texas team, or even coming up with a cool slogan such as “Rise Up.” These acts are enough to invoke happiness for a moment. It is enough to give hope that the relationship will turn. But then without notice and certainly without reason or provocation, the BYU Cougars will go on a metaphorical bender and start bludgeoning me over the head with a toaster.

Following the beating I begin to have ridiculous thoughts. “It's my fault," I think to myself, "If I was just a more devoted fan the Cougars would never have lost.” Despite what my friends may say, I will continue in this forsaken relationship because I believe I can change the outcome of another person's actions.

When the beating is really bad, I try swearing off the Cougars forever.  But it's right around this time that they go out and buy me flowers (or beat an FBS team), somehow making up for their previous shortcoming.  At other times I try to punish the Cougs by vowing to not watch the next game or by refusing to wear school apparel.  But just like a neglectful partner, they simply ignore the punishment and continue living their life as if I don’t exist. The fact that they don’t care about me makes me like them more.

Deep down I hate the Cougars. I hate them for who they are and what they do to me. I hate them for all the pain they have put me through. I hate them for how much they hate me.  Most of all, I hate the fact that I love them.

So readers, I share this with you:

Once every 12 minutes a fan is abused by the BYU Cougars.

Please talk to your children and friends about not becoming a Cougar fan.

4 Ways of Changing the World

Hello and Greetings from South Central Los Angeles “Home of the Trojans and People Who’s Parents Probably Should Have Used One.”  I know what your thinking, “Rom, what the heck? Where has your blog been for the past six months?” I apologize to all of you for being unable to deliver, but I can promise you that it was because I was too busy. Now you may be asking yourself, “Busy…with what?” To which I would calmly answer “Saving lives… One student at a time.” So now you are probably thinking how selfish you are (as you should be), but I am forgiving. Instead of reprimanding you for attempting to prevent me from single handed closing the achievement gap and assuring that “One day…All students will receive access to a quality education.”  I will just tell you the top four ways my life has been changed by personally changing the way students learn.

Way #1: A deeper sense of belonging with My Teach for America team.  

You know teaching is a hard job. There would be some days when I wanted to give up. There were some days I wanted to stop trying to achieve the realistic and attainable vision of “One Day All Children Receiving an Equal Education.” But whenever that sense of discouragement got me down I knew one thing. The my support team would be there with a loving and concerned “Your not doing enough.” Or “I think you can do better than this.” Or even “You're gonna get fired.” I thank the TFA staff for never acknowledging the fact that I did anything right.  Just like the students that I serve, I believe that everyone needs to be told that they arn’t doing enough. Thank you for never allowing me to settle for any sense of self worth. 

Way #2 Scholastic Achievement.

When you first go into teaching you think that your students are going to be able to learn from you, but what I have learned is that the students have so much more to teach me then I ever could teach them. For instance,  I learned Spanish. “Pooto, Babosa, Pinnochi, Cuhelo, and Culo” are just a couple of the words that my students have taught me. Although I can't order anything off of the menu at a Mexican restaurants I know how to make a back alley drug deal.   

Way #3 Fernasco Gonsalves 

While there are many people that deserve a thank you for making this year, without a doubt, the greatest experience of my entire life, there is only one person that will receive direct praise. He will be given this praise for the intricate role he had in the joy of my life. I have always been told that when life gives you lemons you make lemonade, but Fernasco Gonsalves (name changed so I won't get sued) taught me that "when life gives you lemons, let a three hundred pound Guatemalan tackle you to the floor." Many people told me to look at the glass half full, but Fernasco taught me to break the glass and shank your teacher with one of the shards.  Whether it was the daily greeting of "F*ck you Mr. Evans you're the sh*ttiest teacher ever," a flash of a gang sign, or a shank with a paper clip, Fernasco Gonsalves knew how to really make a teacher feel loved.  

\

Actual 2 in 1 toothbrush and Shiv that Fernasco uses to brush his teeth 
and stab people 

Way #4 Intellectual Stimulation at Loyola Marymount University 

I have attended a great number of institutions in my day, but there has never been one so helpful, useful, promising, and influential the LMU Masters program in Special Education . Now, with a busy schedule of teaching 6 hrs a day, lesson planning three distinct and different lessons each day, writing 18 IEP (legal documents created for students with autism and emotional disturbance in my classroom)  you may be thinking that being a full time master student in a subject that you have never had any desire to be in would be almost unbearable. Well that would probably be true, were it not for the fact that I attended the greatest university and had the best professors on the planet. Whether it was senile professors talking about how they understand seven different languages or 50 year old professors who suffer from self inflicted facial paralja in a scanty and pathetic attempt to hide the fact that they are an over the hill divorced woman, I knew one thing. This something made the extra twelve hours a week that I spent sitting in a classroom worth it. I knew that every Monday and Wednesday spent at Loyola Marymount University would not be an absolute waste of life. I knew that these classes were not at worthwhile as watching paint dry on the side of a barn door. 

So readers that is what I have been up to. That is why I haven't been able to write as much as I wanted to. I've been too busy having fun and changing lives. When your life is going well, maybe when you have just flunked that test you have been wanting to flunk for so long, or maybe when your job is going a lot longer then you originally expected and you are super stoked about it, remember Rom's life is a lot better than yours. 

Stay sweet and try and change the world 

                                                                 Mr. E chillen with the homies in SDC

P.S.

Big Shout out to Brittany Koralewski for telling me to asking me to write in my blog again. No Brittany I don't think you're creepy for saying that I should write in my blog again. I actually found it super hot. 

Love Rom. 

My General Conference

Greetings from Los Angeles California "where the weather is warm and the people are cold." While Los Angeles is not notorious for being unkind and aloof, I found that this place rivals any place that I experienced on my mission. From lower Delaware to upper Allentown, all people were cold, but with a few questions about themselves they would warm up and eventually start talking about you. However, in Los Angeles I keep trying to talk to people and it is to no avail. All are entirely too busy to ever stop and talk with you. Of course, the initial interaction between the two of you those talking in Los Angeles may be a bit better than those proud citizens of Philadelphia, but for the most part it is pretty much the same. 

Perhaps the reason why the people I talk to here are cold is because they are employed by the great and abominable church, more commonly known by the title LAUSD.  To be candid, I have never seen a group of more miserable individuals than those that witness on a daily business at my work. Everyone looks and acts like death. It is uncanny and unsettling. 

 Although the misery varies from person to person, there are certain classifications or groups that individuals fall into. There is the disgruntled  and apathetic educator, who tends not to give two winks about a student, yet miraculously complains about how he is underpaid and overworked. There are the kid haters. Yes, those easily angered individuals who hate children and as a result have paradoxically decided to join a profession that is completely dedicated to helping the individuals who they hate. There are the young bucks, the group with which I am a part of. We tend to be more optimistic regarding the future, probably because we have yet to experience what it entails,  but we are so overworked and busy spending every waking moment preparing our next lesson ever to truly be joyful in the profession that we have chosen. 

Then there is the old soldier. They are the individuals who have been through the ringer. They have fought the good fight and warred the good war. They may be good at their job. They may be bad at their job. One thing they all are, is aware of the year, the hour, and the minute that their retirement kicks in and when they may be able to abandon the losing battle of educational equality. 

  One would believe that the extraordinary teachers would be satisfied with their job; however,  the truth of the matter is quite the contrary. They are tortured just like the rest of us. Maybe even more. Their torture is rooted in the kids who are unable to get it. Regardless of what they have done and how many children have succeeded because of them, they always tend to focus upon the ones that failed. 

There is one teacher at my school, Ms. Hasarjan, who is incredible  She is an inspiration to anyone who would see her classroom. I have never seen a math teacher try so hard and care so much. Regardless of this fact, she still focuses on what she has not done and has not succeeded in. 

The only group that seems to be exempt from complaining and negativity are the Asian math teachers. I think this is more a cultural thing than anything else. That's why I admire Asians so much.  They just show up, go to work, do their work and then go home. Seldom, if ever, do they lament. However, I have caught them complaining every so often.   

 I don't know the cause of the pessimism that pervades public education in Los Angeles. Perhaps it is due to the fact that the school district is just so poorly run. Maybe it is a reflection of the lives of the children that we teach. It could even be as simple as the fact that it is human nature to focus on what is not; rather than what is. Whatever the reason, I know that I am affected by it. 

  I am in the roughest of environments and in the midst of toughest thing I have ever had to do. I see pessimism and failure all around me. What keeps me going through all of this is the hope of the gospel. I know that it is true. I know that the church is what unites families. I know that it brings happiness to all those who live it. I've known this for five years now. I have known it since I sat at a small chapel on 143 Dickenson Ln. in a small suburb of Wilmington, Delaware. I saw a prophet of God address me from a far off land and bare testimony of his apostolic calling. It has been five years since this and every moment since that time I have known and I pray that I always will know that the gospel of Christ has been restored to the earth by a prophet of God. May the happiness of the gospel shine through me and I pray that others will see the joy that I have experienced from the truth. 

Love 

Romney