TRA: The Disappearance of P.T. Moser

Check out this fresh adventure on Real Life Gone Wrong, my other page. Jolie must step out of agent retirement to pull a team together in order to save P.T. Moser. Go to http://www.freewebs.com/joellejean/theroommateadventures.htm and read the story.

Tossing the Cookies

I was driving down Center St. today on my way home, talking to my madre on the telefono when I saw this white truck park real quick on the left. The window on the passenger side is open and this kid sticks his head out and pukes. It's all watery and quite disgusting, and I saw it all, including the part where the puke hit the ground and splashed. Sick. Thought I'd share.

P.S. I have a massive headache and TGIF.

01134

We were using calculators in math this week. Students were getting clever and punching in 01134, then turning the calculator upside down so it said “hello.” Then one kid typed 28008 and gave the calculator to another kid, who started freaking out. I said, “What’s the problem?” Then I looked at the calculator again. Turns out 28008 upside down looks like the word “boobs.” Oh, fifth grade boys.

New Roommate

Just like Lauren and Audrina on MTV's The Hills, we too have a new roommate named LO. She is furry, however. Currently I am housing a cat and her four kittens. This is mostly a rescue from death. I am keeping them at my house until the kittens can be separated. LO and her babies are the previous tenants of my sister's old house. My sister moved, and so I am taking care of the furry critters for now. LO's real name is Little One. I did not name her. Blame this long and un-cat like name on my mother. LO was born the summer before I went to college. I confess, I did have a name for her but have since forgotten it, due to the fact that my mother insists on calling her Little One. She's LO now. Main point of the story is, if you want a grey and white kitten, I have four of them. They are a week old today. I'll post a picture or something when they look more like kittens and not so much like mice.

Goodbye Childhood

So my sister just bought her very own house a few weeks ago. This is obviously very exciting for her, but it also leads to the separation of both of our childhoods. Mainly through the selling of our childhood house. My sister had previously been renting our old house from my parents (because they built a new house and are now living in that), so now there really is no reason to keep our old house. I knew the eventual sale of the only house I lived in as a kid would come, but nevertheless was a bit shocked when I talked to my mom on Sunday and she said a real estate agent was going to look at the house.

As in, they are starting to fix the old house pronto so that they can sell it. My sister told me she moved all of her furniture out of the old house. I haven’t been back to look, but I know that when I do go, it will be the very first time in my life to see that house empty. It’s been full of furniture since the day I was born. It will be surreal, I am sure. When I go back (in approximately two weeks) I have to take the rest of my stuff out of my old room. Yes, I am spoiled in that I currently have three rooms to put my stuff in (my house here, a room at my parents’ new house, and the old house). I hardly have anything there. What I left behind was all my old toys that I didn’t need here and didn’t feel a need to move to my parents’ new house.

I was talking to my mom today about how I will have to help paint my old room, because currently there are clouds painted on the ceiling. I will also have to peel off all of those glow-in-the-dark stars. I am already depressed about this trip. I mean, taking out all of my old stuff, getting my room ready for some other kid to come live in. Seeing an empty house. Saying goodbye. Keeping nothing but memories. Here is something insane: about 90% of all of my memories are in that house. Almost all of everything I remember happened in that place. And now my family is basically selling the shell of my memories. Too much to think about right now. Undoubtedly will revisit this topic again later.

Get your life together

People say this a lot. “I need to get my life together,” or “He just needs to get his life together.” Like our life is a giant puzzle and we just need to hunt down all the pieces to put it together. This is what I think: sometimes we pick up the wrong pieces and don’t realize it until we’ve smashed and mangled and forced them to fit into our life. I feel like sometimes my right puzzle piece is turned up-side down, so I can’t tell that it is mine. And also, did a small dog or child eat a piece? Because it seems like something that should be here is missing.
--My journal 12/20/06

True Life Stories

Beautifully Broken
How being shattered isn't always a bad thing.

My First Successful Business 
How I made a lot of pretend money with my sister as a child.

Pee in This Cup
How I was traumatized by drug testing.

Delusions of an Eight Year Old 
How my sister made me believe things that were not true.

A True High School Story 
How the hottest boy in biology class didn't really like me that much.

Late Night Shopping Trip
How shopping at Winco sucks.

She Had a Premonition
How my great-aunt and middle-name namesake knew of her untimely death.

Love is an Allusion: why we broke up
How I used to have a fake boyfriend but then we mutually ended it.

Popped Cherry
How I don't get paid enough to answer the sort of questions kids ask me.

Dear Parents

Please do not allow your child to have a mullet or a unibrow. While it adds a bit of entertainment to the classroom, it can be disruptive (i.e. hair blocking someone's view, or the core of teasing).

She's a Boy

Question: how does someone teach a child for four weeks and think the kid is a girl, only to find out in an embarrassing situation from other students that she is, in fact, a boy?
Answer: the child in question resembles a disheveled tomboyish Olsen twin.

So there is this kid who comes into my class for literacy time only. Collectively, I have spent about six hours in a small group setting with this child, and 20 hours in the classroom setting. The entire time I thought the kid was a girl. It’s mostly because the kid 1) has a name I had never heard of before, 2) has long blond hair that is worn up in a ponytail, and 3) has the face of an Olsen twin circa the Full House days.

On Friday the other students in my mini reading group informed me that the student in question is a boy. This is because I referred to the absent child as a “she.” The other students laughed at me and said the kid is a boy. However, they had to check with other students from the same homeroom, yelling “Hey, isn’t (name removed for protection) a boy?” They confessed to me they used to think the kid was a girl, too.

I was shocked. Couldn’t even believe it. I half wanted to go down to the office right then, pull the file, and see the giant M marked for male. How does a teacher go so long without knowing the gender of a student? Later, the kid came into class and sat down. I looked “it” up and down, noting the clothes. Boy clothes, I guess. But could it really be a boy? All this time. Thought it was a girl. Never doubted it wasn’t. So weird. But she is a he.

Love is an Allusion: why we broke up

Before Christmas break freshman year of college, I reverted back to childlike behaviors and invented an imaginary friend. Imaginary boyfriend, more specifically. This was not because I am suffering from a mental disorder and can't distinguish between fantasy and reality, like Hurley making up his friend Dave in that episode of LOST. No, I invented him up because of my overly nosy and gossipy relative. Let's call her "Great-Aunt Marta."

Basically, Great-Aunt Marta always wants to know what is going on in my life. Specifically, she wants to know why I am not dating anyone. She always knows that I am not dating anyone because I never bring someone with me to family functions. I think her presumptions are a bit unwarranted, because there may be an off-chance that I am leading a secret life. I once considered hiring a male escort for Christmas Eve one year, kind of like that movie The Wedding Date where Debra Messing hires Dermot Mulroney as her date for her sister's wedding in London. But then I came to my senses and invented the imaginary (and free) Ethan Cole.

We dated for almost four years, but have recently broken up. More on that later. Ethan Cole is six foot three, has brown hair, brown eyes, very nice abs, and is from the San Francisco Bay area. He also plays baseball in San Francisco, which is one of the reasons he can never come with me to family functions. The other reason he can never make a public appearance is because he is visiting his family in California. With this whole back story created, I could finally face Aunt Marta in comfort and confidence.

But then we broke up.

I decided to end my long-term fictional relationship with Ethan after telling my roommate, Elizabeth, about him. Additionally, I think Natalie might have been skeptical about the relationship. I decided Ethan's really not my type, and he should date Liz instead. You should have seen her eyes light up when I told her not only is he tall, but he plays baseball. Also, Marta was starting to get suspicious.

Which is why I have decided to invent up a new BF. I'm just not sure who to choose this time. Should it be….

THE MUSICIAN, Hayden Burke

He's 5'9"ish, plays guitar, and writes contemplative songs. Eats granola and has been to Europe. Occasionally wears fuzzy wrist bands. Possible hidden tattoo. Probably has a MySpace Music site and owns a collection of CDs from obscure bands. Secretly collects Smerfs because he can't shake his 80s childhood.

Reason he's MIA at family functions: He's doing a show in another city.

THE BUSINESSMAN, Evric Larson

Evric stands at 6'1", wears a suit, and has a snazzy tie collection. Polishes his shoes. Likes a clean house and eating lobster. Watches The Office for inspiration (and because it's funny). Enjoys being in charge and increasing profits. Really likes Microsoft Excel.

Reason he's MIA: He's at a marketing conference (business people always have conferences to go to), or he's getting his office remodeled.

THE P.E. TEACHER, Josh Petersen

Is 6'3", likes basketball, and wears Nike shoes 24/7 (except when he's sleeping). Watches ESPN a lot and coaches teams for underprivileged youth. Has paper white teeth. Is the middle child in his family. Fears cherry tomatoes but won't discuss it.

Reason he's MIA: He's coaching a little league game (or whatever sport is in season at the time).

THE FOREIGNER, Juan Martinez

Juan is 5'11" and he loves his mamá and seven siblings. He has a silver filling in his left molar. He makes cheese tamales that are muy delicioso. Juan is from Colombia, and has escaped from the grips of his drug cartel leading Uncle Rico. His dream is to have a better life as an orthodontist in America. Has never met Shakira.

Reason he's MIA: He's visiting his home country (or his VISA got suspended).

OLD MONEYBAGS, Frank(lin) Rochester

Frank is 5'7"ish and bald. He's 10-25 years older than me. Smokes cigars. Owns an indoor pool and a collection of vintage cars. Vacations in Atlanta, Georgia or Berlin, Germany, depending on his mood. Has a walrus-like mustache, but I would force him to shave it off if we met.

Reason he's MIA: He's traveling the country (or is in the hospital due to a stroke).

Sometimes I pretend to lie

Characters:
Bradly, 4th grade student in my reading class
Me

Setting: On the carpet in reading circle.

Me: "Bradly, tell me what your connections to the story are."

Bradly: "Well...Martin lied in the story. Sometimes I am like Martin. I sometimes pretend to lie."

Me: (laughs) "You pretend to lie?"

Bradly: (giggles) "Yeah."

Me: "So if you are pretending to lie, does that mean that after you tell the lie you let the people know you were pretending?"

Bradly: "Sometimes."

Me: "So how is that different from lying?"

Bradly: "I'm just pretending! It's not real."

Me: "Oh."