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Every This Time of Year I start to hanker for school supplies. Folders and sharpies and pencils but MAINLY NOTEBOOKS. AHHHHHHHH so many pretty colored and new smelling notebooks, labeled by course! I think this year, I’m going to get them for myself ANYWAYS. Afterall, I’m in enough writer’s groups and / or have enough things going on in my brain to assign each to a NOTEBOOK. Amazing. I’m going to do it. Just so you know.

Liz and I went to the Natural History Museum hoping to learn about the earth; be generally erudite. But instead, we were discouraged to find that we had forgotten everything we learned in second grade. So instead, we meandered about like faux- Rachel Zoe’s, having profound conversations like, when at the wall of Sea and Worm Creatures:

Me: So wait, are these things real, or like, not real?

Liz:…….I think the things in the Jars are real. But the other things aren’t real.

Or, in ancient China exhibit, of a old linen outfit:

Me: I would wear that. Like I would really wear that.

Or, of the whole time:

Liz: how cool would it be if like Robin Williams and or Ben Stiller were here?

Me: So. Cool.

Here is where I get all erudite and ‘I am reading this amazing book right now.’ So I am reading this amazing book right now, pictured above. Andy suggested I read it, for a deeper look into inner city schools. So this amazing guy, Geoffrey Canada, started the Harlem’s Children Zone in an effort to better the quality of life and FUTURE life for Harlem kids. He raised millions of dollars, and started programs for high schoolers on down to pregnant Mothers.

Basically, he grew tired of only being able to save / help a few children, whoever he could afford to let into his programs – he wanted to impact EVERYONE. His solution: to start early. Before birth. Because there is this huge discrepancy in the cognitive and learning abilities between poor and middle / upper class children.

When I was little, without even KNOWING it, my parents made education and success a priority – I was constantly instructed, learned social codes, and was encouraged to ask questions (Mom/ Dad do you remember doing this? I bet you did, and I bet YOU didn’t even realize it.) But kids from lower-class homes: their parents have a COMPLETELY different set of priorities, and raise their children  differently. Not that it’s all bad. Kids from lower-class homes are more inclined to talk about how they feel, express themselves, but aren’t as familiar or comfortable with rules / the structure of school as their peers.

I haven’t finished the book yet, but so far, I’ve watched Canada struggle through pouring all of this funding into a new school for middle school kids, Promise Academy – and STILL the kids can’t get their test scores up, with extra attention, test prep, etc.

All in all, it makes me grateful that I was raised how I was. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I spent a fair amount of time outside making ‘stew’ out of grass and rocks, and playing circus, and reading babysitter’s club, but somehow somewhere, education as a priority was ingrained in me.

I just wrote a 5 paragraph essay. Look at me, doing my homework. This is the fifth paragraph, in which I sum up, so uh, thank you for reading this essay.

She is all: fine okay, eat meat and dairy, I will still love you, but I may not hold your hair back while you puke.

Apparently there’s bacteria and ’8 ft tall piles of manure’ by our eggs in Iowa so hmmm, people are getting sick. Buddy does not have to worry about such things, as she does not eat eggs. I mean, I have  I have been friends with This Lady for long enough to Know that the food production industry is a screwed and kind of like the mafia,  but I feel like now is the first timing I am actually ‘Knowing’ this information. Ugh!

Today, I warmed up with this hardcore teen football team. We’re super ready for the scrimmage. We’re caught in a pretty bad losing streak, but this Saturday, I have a feeling we’re going to Whup the Terriers in the A, pretty hard.

Will somebody please just go ahead and give us the Coolest Father Daughter Pair Ever award?

LASAGNA NIGHT!!! Food! Fellowship!!…Murder? Last night, we of House of Home gathered at Kerry and Tibi’s for a reunion of sorts. They prepared an Italian sausage old faithful, and a pesto spinach gooey amazing thing. And we at it all.  And then there were crepes that were prepared with orange butter and cognac and were on fire for a minute. And we drank wine. And we played games. And I was the Mafia. Thankfully, no one was actually killed.

I was JUST about 2 seconds away from telling a general manager that I Loved Him. I was just checking on a check that’s supposed to be en route, and in my haste, I signed ‘Love, Bekah.’  Thankfully I caught myself. I mean I don’t really love the guy, though I do want my money. But I do wish him the ‘Best.’

This week, my Dad has been straightening something out with his Life Insurance policies and has had to email my brothers and I about it…and I just don’t like it! I don’t know about you, but my Daddy is going to live forever. See that’s me, in the corner, believing this.