I'm not complaining, mind you. I'm enjoying myself immensely.
Anyway, on Friday, I grumped and grumbled my way out of my pajamas at about 7:00 in the evening to return to school (I'd come home right after choir so I could relax a bit--I'd been out late Thursday selling donuts at Bonfire Night) for supervisory duty--I'd been assigned to chaperone the Homecoming Dance. I figured it would be best to arrive early (duty started at 9:00) and watch a bit of the game, and halftime.
The dance ended up being not so bad, from a duty standpoint. The dance teacher was also there, so we chatted between letting kids in (checking student IDs and taking tickets). The admins who were there chatted with us, too, and it was all good natured (though we were all quite cold and tired!).
As the dance wound down, I found myself chatting with a Placer County Sheriff deputy. We joked about this duty being slightly worse than patrolling in the car, because of the music. "At least in my car, I get to choose what I listen to!" Another deputy approached, and I glanced at him, thinking he looked vaguely familiar. He had a name badge that read R. Jensen. Then the guy I'd been talking to said, "Hey, Reg!" I looked again, and thought, "Heh...nah."
Reg mentioned he was going to get going, as he was off for the night. As he walked away, I looked at his colleague, and asked, "Is this, by any chance, a second career for him?"
I received a "look," and, "Yeah..."
"He was a teacher."
A big grin. "Yeah, he was!"
"Oh, my God! He was my teacher! Chemistry, junior year, Folsom High!"
The deputy laughed. "You've got to go tell him!"
So I ran after Mr. Jensen, my junior year chemistry teacher. He heard my footfalls and turned to find me jogging his way, calling out, "You were my teacher!!" A huge grin spread across his face. "I thought you looked familiar!" He vaguely remembered me (after all, I took his class in 1995 and he had a TON of students), and we spoke for a few minutes about my memories from his class ("You used to take us outside and blow things up in the garbage can!") and how the year I had his class, his home was flooded in a huge rain storm and they had to raise the foundation.
I'm still smiling. I know he probably didn't remember me very well; after all, I was dismal at chemistry (though I pulled decent grades because I did the work and tried hard). But I remembered him, and I know, as a teacher, it's nice to know you had a somewhat positive effect on a student's life. I was so proud to tell him, "I'm a teacher now! Choir!"
It was a very late night for me; I didn't get home 'til a little after midnight, but I was up early-ish on Saturday for more fun. Summer and I arranged, a few months ago, to make this weekend our annual trip to wine country...but this time instead of just spending a day, we'd spend the night. So we met up in Sonoma, had lunch and a wander, then drove to Petaluma to wander it's adorable downtown, have a marvelous Indian dinner (and a glass of wine for me!), before spending the night at a "meh" hotel (you get what you pay for).
Some pics (taken with my Canon, not my phone) of the historic district in Petaluma:
|Great old sign.|
|I love these old buildings.|
|Santa threw up in here.|
|Random artwork in a random alley that was lined with tattoo places and a|
|Petaluma Pie Company.|
After the spa, we went our separate ways, and I drove two hours home in time to catch the 2nd quarter of the 49ers game. I'm completely knackered tonight, but in good spirits and rocking some soft skin.