My New Gig

Greetings my dear friends!

It's been two months since I pulled the plug on my former jet setting lifestyle and joined  approximately 7.6% of all Americans who also cling to the title 'unemployed.' But no one has found me complaining about my newfound title, rather, I've fully embraced it! Job fairs, endless searches in the help wanted section, and networking are all still just as foreign to me as the countries I've visited. For the past two months I've had one goal, and one goal only...to be a haver of fun!

And I have been quite successful!

Miranda Lambert/Dierks Bentley Concert

Dinner and Drinks by the Illinois River

Glow Run 5k

I've been able to truly embrace my newfound role in society mostly because I have known all along it would only be temporary. Everything in life is about moderation and balance. You can't have too many Oreos without the proper amount of milk. If you want a banana, you gotta have the Nutella. No ketchup? Hold the fries! Hopefully you smell what I'm stepping in here, but what I'm getting at is that as much as I have enjoyed my playtime, it needed to be balanced out with a little bit of work. Yep, we're talking about a J-O-B!

I really wasn't looking for a full time, 9-5, 401k loving job. I'm just not ready for that level of commitment, so flexibility was key. I personally find myself to be one of the most fun people I know, so the job had to have some entertaining element to it. Naturally, tax preparer was out. And although my birth certificate indicates that I'm 25 years old, I assure you that my maturity level is at LEAST a good 15 years behind that, so working with my peers, AKA children, would definitely be an added bonus.

Despite my impeccable hygiene and freakishly good looks....

I haven't found that special someone with whom I wish to connect the ol ball and chain to and spend the rest of my ever loving days with. However, according to those who have, when it's the right fit, you just know! Now I'm not really too sure about all that lovey dovey jargon, but when I came across my career for the next eight months, those hopeless romantics were spot on, I just knew it was the right fit!

May I present to you, Ms. Schutz, Substitute Teaching Extraordinaire!

Luckily for me, in lieu of my mom's absence, my sister and sister in law were on hand to take the obligatory first day of school photos. And like any self respecting, pinterest-erific mother would do, they topped off the photo with the sign indicating that when I grow up, I do in fact hope to become a gypsy.

So yes, approximately four days each week I am now in charge of educating the youth of America. As you might have guessed, each and every time I walk into a new classroom, whether that be one full of rambunctious kindergartens or super serious senior physics students, I run an incredibly tight ship. No ones pulling any thing over on this rent a teacher. Ahhh, who am I freaking kidding, it's a madhouse every. single. day. And I'm totally digging it!

I'm not joking, I really am loving my new gig! I'm able to work just enough to keep the bread and butter popsicles and ice cream on the table, but if I want a day or week off just because, I simply inform the school that I don't want to work. Easy peasy!

It also fits my anti 9-5 schedule, as the work day is from 8:00 AM to 3:30 PM. It's just long enough to classify as a full days work, but short enough to allow for an afternoon cat nap!

And while I would in no way say it is an easy job (mad props to full time teachers, holy moly is there more to educating than I ever dreamed of), it is very low on the stress and responsibility-o-meter. As a substitute teacher, I simply walk into the class and deliver the lesson plans the regular teacher has already set up. Then at the end of the day, I walk out of there with a full day's pay and zip zilch zero papers to grade, reports to complete, or spelling tests to check. That's a win-win if you ask me.

In order to paint the most accurate picture of what a day in Ms. Schutz's class is like, I refer you to this short clip of Jack Black's School of Rock. Sans the rock band, this is pretty spot on. However, I do play the piano....

So far, the highlights have involved:

Being assigned to co teach geometry with my former high school math teacher. The one my mom had to go have conferences with during my senior year to discuss how my behavior (using the classroom overhead projector to make shadow puppets that mocked him during lectures, talking out of turn, drawing calculators on the portion of the test that was intended for us to show our work) negatively affected the class. Nervously walking into his class, I assured myself that eight years had passed and he'd probably not even remember me. It was much to my surprise and embarrassment when he greeted me at the door with a loud and boisterous, "Well, well, well, if it isn't the prodigal math child herself." I died.

Leading an activity in which a group of first graders were given a pile of shaving cream on their desks in order to practice writing the alphabet. Several moments later, out of the corner of my eye I notice a Hispanic girl is spreading the white mixture all the way up her arms. As soon as I open my mouth, with the intent of kindly asking her to stop, she blurts out, "Look everybody, I'm a white girl!" Very hard to disciple students when I have tears rolling down my face. From laughter.

And last, but not least, the girl in the fourth grade class asking me a million and five questions concerning the solar system. The sun gives us energy. But why? Because without it we'd die. But why? Because the sun gives us life. But why. Exhausted, I finally resorted to, "Honey, how about you  ask your mommy when you get home from school."

To which she replied, "My mom dropped out of high school! She had to ask me how to spell leaf!"

Touché little fourth grader, touché.

And, an added bonus to this here job, not once have any of these passengers students yelled at me so severely that out of an act of desperation I had to run into the lavatory to gain a few moments of sanity. Only to return back to the cabin classroom, way more than a few moments and one awesome cup pyramid later. Not that any job has ever made me do that or anything. 

Mwhaha I crack myself up!

Have a great week everyone!























 

Empty Nesters Gaining Birds

Empty Nesters Gaining Birds.

This was the title of a research paper I had written while in college that I recently found while sorting through the excessive mounds of Kelsey Schutz memorabilia that the president of my fan club had been so diligently collecting since before my birth. I am discovering that my mother not only kept nearly every single school assignment her children ever completed, but also newspapers from the day each of her four children were born, calendars detailing her pregnancies, including which days we had hiccups and which days she felt us move, and even clippings from our first, second, and fifteenth hair cuts! My favorite find from yesterday was a letter to Santa from my ornery older brother Brock, circa 1994.....

"Dear Santa, I'm sorry I've been such a brat this year. I just really haven't been feeling very well...."

I don't recall the kid being sick a day in his life.

Anyways, I had written this particular research paper that explored the recent phenomenon of 20 somethings moving back home to live with their parents for a Human Behavior class as a mere 20 year old in 2008. I was not particularly passionate about the declining economy, nor the lack of available jobs in the United State at that time, but rather, I had scoped out my competition. I knew the majority of my classmates had the topics of abortion, gun control, and legalizing marijuana covered. I sat down to write the paper, that I had procrastinated on for months, a mere 12 hours before it was due. Knowing the paper was going to be glaringly half assed, I typed the entire thing with my fingers crossed, hoping that my professor would at least throw me a few originality points and I'd perhaps squeak by with a C. It worked.

But as I flipped through the college paper, the irony of the situation was not lost on me. When I wrote this paper, I had no idea what my future held, but I knew it most certainly didn't involve rejoining the coup I had just flown. Much less, the coup that had been revamped into my dad's very own bachelor pad! No Sir-E. I was going to move far, far away and never look back. Kelly Clarkson's song Miss Independent? Ya, she wrote that about me!

My 20 year old self even had the nerve to write a closing paragraph that offered a little personal reflection on the matter.

"While many young adults feel that moving back into their parents' home is their only option, I personally find this unhealthy for both the parents and the adult child. This living arrangement stunts the appropriate life stages that should be taking place for all parties involved."

Maybe I've been unemployed and watching way too many stupid movies lately, but my current feelings towards my outspoken, know it all, Ms. World is Your Oyster, 20 year old self is best personified by Jim Carey when his dual personalities Hank and Charlie duke it out in Me, Myself, and Irene. Sans the slapping myself across the face, I want to scream at 20 year old Kelsey with big crocodile sized tears streaming down my face, "You don't know what it's like out there! It's so hard on your own! It's scary! The world is scary! Run home to your mommy, little girl, while you still have one. Run!"

Ok, perhaps I'm being a bit dramatic here, I know that 's hard to believe, but it was amusing to find this paper considering my current living situation. I will give 20 year old Kelsey some credit, moving back home after being gone for seven years isn't exactly ideal, and it has definitely been accompanied with some major adjustments for my roomie and I.

I've had to learn to not park my car directly behind the garage door, which in turn traps my dad's vehicle inside the garage. My bad. He's working on overcoming his frat boy ways of dish washing. Who needs Dawn when you have tap water to clean your plates? I yi yi.

Another little piece to the transition puzzle is that my dad now has a lady friend. I actually met her while I was home on leave in February, she's absolutely lovely, and it's really nice to see my dad smiling again. But let's be real for a minute, meeting your father's new girlfriend, after seeing your parents happily married for 35 plus years, is going to be awkward, no matter how you cut the cookie. I knew meeting my dad's new girlfriend was going to be about a 75 on the awkward scale. So what do most people....ok what do I do in uncomfortable situations? That's right, crank it up a few more notches!

The entire week before the meeting, I had been bumming around the house in my typical lounging attire; unwashed hair tied on top my head, tie dyed sweatpants, fuzzy house slippers, and God Made Cops So Firemen Could Have Hero's t-shirt. My dad made the mistake of making the slight suggestion that I shower and look a little bit more presentable for our weekly family pizza night where I'd be meeting his new friend.

Being the good, obeying daughter I am, I adhered to his requests. That evening I showered, put on a little makeup, straightened my hair, and searched my closet high and low for the nicest outfit I owned. My father was beaming (that's the correct word to use when someone is hanging his head, and shaking it back and forth disapprovingly, right?) when he saw me walk down our staircase into our living room wearing my 2006 prom dress, topped off with my Western Illinois University homecoming royalty sash! I looked good!

Please Note: Tie Dyed Sweats 11:00

Despite my antics, she's decided to stick around, and I'm really glad my dad has someone he enjoys spending time with and dating. For those of you who are keeping track, my dad has gone on more dates this year than I have. So that's always fun.

Now that we've gotten all the things I haven't been doing out of the way, let talk about what I have been doing. We shall title this segment of the blog, Things I Couldn't Do In Dubai!

Attend an Amish funeral! We have family friends who are Amish, and it was unfortunate that they lost a family member, but it was a culturally enriching experience. My very first one of it's kind!

Amish Buggy, Straight Ahead

 Boating on the Illinois River with my Brudder Brock and friend Allison!

Fishing on Schutz Farm's Pond/modeling for Blue Moon. Keeping it classy, as always!

Sell Rib eyes for the Illinois Beef Association at the Illinois State Fair.

And last, but not least, wear shorty shorts and cowgirl boots to country concerts with my friends!

So as you can see, retirement is treating me quite well! If you hear of any available jobs, or companies hiring, please keep it to yourself as I am actively not looking for work! In all seriousness, there really is no place like home! I'm sure one day I'll eventually leave the nest, but as for now, I'm one happy bird!

 

Home Sweet Home...Three Winters Ago

"A child on a farm sees a plane fly overhead and dreams of a far away place. A traveler on the plane sees the farmhouse and thinks of home." -Carl Burns