Parent Teacher Conferences Are Speed Dating Minus the Alcohol

After two very intense days of parent teacher conferences, a ritual which all teachers are forced to undergo to somehow prove their worth, it has occurred to me that parent teachers conferences are like speed dating, minus the alcohol. Let's do a comparison, shall we? PT conferences and speed dating both require one to dress up a little. If you dress down, you look like you don't care, but if you over dress, you're trying too hard. So you need the right amount of finesse in choosing your wardrobe. You want something that reads confidence but isn't too forceful. You don't want your outfit to be too over the top either, weird, or funky, or again, they might not take you seriously. Heels too high are not uncomfortable they can sometimes give the wrong message, in both cases.

Speed dating, you have a limited amount time, usually 12 - 15 minutes, to show your best qualities. You try to put on your best smile and say something meaningful about yourself that won't either offend the person sitting across from you or make them think you're a possible stalker or serial killer. Same goes with PT conferences. You have 12 - 15 minutes to show your best smile and prove your worth to the parents paying your salary. You want to show what you're doing in your classroom to help their child's development.

Speed dating also requires that you keep an open mind and the eye rolling to a minimum. When your date expresses that he wears his lucky underwear to basketball games, goes on and on about the last monster truck rally, you try to keep your expression even but pleasant. Same with PT conferences. You're trying to find a way to tell the parent sitting across from you what a total mess up their kid is without coming out and saying "what a total f*&% up your kid is", though tempted you are. When the little timer "dings" at the end of your 12 minutes, you quickly move on to the next one, just like in speed dating. Really, the only difference is, in speed dating, you're allowed to have a glass of wine or two to help you get through the night.

Not all speed dates are awful, though, I have yet to have a friend who has been to a successful one and actually met anyone they'd like to see more than 12 minutes. But I have had conferences that have been successful and actually been thanked for my hard work and dedication to my work, even though their kid was a total mess up. They even offered to buy me a drink at the end of the night.

Password Recovery

7 months. It's taken me 7 months to actually post something again. Seriously. 7 months. Now, was that because I was so busy that I couldn't take the time to post?? Or was it because I misplaced my password for like...7 months. I hate passwords. You have to have passwords for everything these days. Passwords for your bank, passwords for your computer, passwords for your email, your blogs, your healthcare; passwords for everything it seems! And not just passwords that are easy to remember. Noooooo, they have to have characters, and letters, and numbers, and all kinds of stuff that us over 50 crowd can't remember! Hell, I can't recall what I had for dinner two days ago, you think I can remember a password that has #Calif263&845Abc.... and you can't use easy passwords anymore because the damn hackers can crack the code of your mothers brothers birthday or your cat's name.

I don't use my pets names as passwords, by the way, in case you were thinking you could hack my account. People have told me to write them down, but when I do, I forget where I wrote them down at! Or I shove them into a drawer never to be seen again. You know the type of drawer. Don't deny that you don't have one. You know you do! The drawer that has all the junk in it that you don't know where else to stash and store it, so you shove it into a drawer. Well, apparently that's where I put my password note for this blog spot. Stuck to a coupon that expired in November, there was this tiny little pink post it note with something that seemed vaguely familiar. Low and behold, success! I can start writing again!

Next thing you know, we're going to need passwords to get into the bathroom just to pee. At least here in Indiana.