Tuesday, March 31, 2009

If I had a COW

CD rates are disgusting. I know the economy is majorly sucking right now, but I'd make more interest burying my money in the ground.

Does anyone remember when teen heart throb sensation Zac Efron was just a nerdy gap-toothed kid on the CW's Summerland? Because I do.
Yesterday I was entirely to excited to get home and Google about chickens laying eggs. I'm not sure what my thought process was, but it entered my mind on the way home. I remember someone telling me that the hen lays an egg and then in order for it to be fertilized, the rooster like, sprays it or something. More importantly, I wanted to know how long it took for a chicken to form an egg and then lay it. This is what I find out, because I know you are dying to know:

Chickens lay eggs regardless to whether or not a rooster is present. If a rooster mates with a hen, then she will lay a fertilized egg that can become a chicken. If a rooster does not mate with a hen, then the egg will not be able to become a chicken. Elementary physics, I know. But I had it in my head somewhere that fertilization occurred after the laying of the egg. But it doesn't. That was a misconception (haha, conception...).

Typically, a hen can lay one egg every 3-4 days. The older the hen is, the larger the eggs she lays. Also, the older the hen, the more frequently she lays eggs. It's possible for a hen to lay an egg everyday. I guess it just takes practice. Egg laying has something to do with light and some gland in chicken eyes and blah blah blah Google it for yourself.

All of this was utterly fascinating to me, and it reminded me of the time when I was twelve years old and really wanted a pet pygmy goat. I check out this blue bound cover from 1955 on goat care, gestation, lactation, etc. from the library. I learned all about goat cheese and everything you ever needed to know. Sad to say, but I never actually got a goat. However, it was at this point in my life that I realized an important fact about cows that I was previously blind to. Cows don't just give milk because we want them to. They have to give birth first. Then they start lactating. They dry up after a while, and so then they need to have a new calf in order to give milk again. It's surprising how many people don't know this. They think cows can give milk for years and years without anything happening in between.

Speaking of cows, I want one. Not a cow, but a COW--computers on wheels. This is what people call the movable laptop carts that schools have. Most carry 10-30 computers. If I had a COW then teaching would be grand.

Monday, March 30, 2009

I'd rather eat a hamburger

This Thursday is McTeacher night at McDonald's. It's a fundraiser for our school. I suppose I should have read the flier more carefully, because I don't know what percentage of the sales actually go to the school. While I am all about earning money for our poor school, I will not be participating in McTeacher night for the following reasons, listed in order of importance:

1) I have a math meeting in South Salem from 4-6, which is coincidentally the same hours that McTeacher night is happening. I get paid to go to this math meeting, and they are usually very beneficial considering I've never taught these units before.
2) I do not support the food production processes/practices of McDonald's (or their marketing, either) Read Fast Food Nation to find out why. It's true that I have bought food at McDonald's, but it is typically on a rare occasion.
3) I am a vegetarian.
4) Today Naughty Child said in his extremely rude, loud voice "I'm gonna go and make you serve me two Big Macs." He said it in a very snotty manner, and I'll tell you right now that I would rather eat a hamburger (as long as it's not from McDonald's) than serve Naughty Child food. He is no position to be served anything, unless it is a swift kick in the pants.

This is where this post ends, unless you would like to continue reading about how you can save humanity.

I am not a vegetarian because I love animals. I am a vegetarian because I love people, and I am trying to use the least amount of energy possible in the food that I eat. See picture.
Above is how munch energy is needed when you eat meat.

Above is how much energy you need when you eat plants only. As you can see, when you get rid of the middle, the base shrinks.

Check out more about this picture and other convincing arguments at www.pbjcampaign.org I copied the following below from this site.

Greenhouse Gas Emissions: 2.5 Pounds

Each time you have a plant-based lunch like a PB&J you'll reduce your carbon footprint by the equivalent of 2.5 pounds of carbon dioxide emissions over an average animal-based lunch like a hamburger, a tuna sandwich, grilled cheese, or chicken nuggets. For dinner you save 2.8 pounds and for breakfast 2.0 pounds of emissions.

Those 2.5 pounds of emissions at lunch are about forty percent of the greenhouse gas emissions you'd save driving around for the day in a hybrid instead of a standard sedan.

If you have a PB&J instead of a red-meat lunch like a ham sandwich or a hamburger, you shrink your carbon footprint by almost 3.5 pounds of greenhouse gas emissions.

Conserve Water: 133 Gallons

You'll conserve water at lunch too! How about 133 gallons of water conserved at lunch versus the average American lunch? To put this in perspective, five PB&Js or other plant-based lunches per month would save more water than switching to a low-flow showerhead. If you're replacing hamburgers, it should take you just three lunches to conserve more water than the low-flow showerhead.

Save Land: 24 Square Feet

Don't forget the land you save from deforestation, over-grazing, and pesticide and fertilizer pollution: about 24 square feet at lunch.

Save the earth, eat PB and J.

Sunday, March 29, 2009

I will, I will not

I WILL do my taxes today. Really. As soon as I post this, I am going to get out my forms and my calculator and do some real-life application math. Then I will practice my writing skills as I make a check out to the IRS. = (

I will also do lesson plans for this week. Really. Or at least, for Monday. And okay, I realize I brought home 6 different assignments to grade, and I didn't so much as touch them, but whatev. I think it's really bad to feel guilty about (not) doing work that you don't get paid for. Nobody is paying me to do teacher things over break, so I didn't.

I will clean the bathrooms today. Really. As soon as I'm done posting this, and I'm done with my taxes. I may even vacuum my bedroom.

Things I will NOT to:
*watch episodes of Wife Swap on YouTube (because ABC doesn't have enough viewers to offer episodes on-line)
*take a nap (because I fully slept until ten)
*buy a lot of chocolate when I go grocery shopping
*check Facebook more than 5 times
*Google pictures of James Franco when he played Tristan
*have a bad attitude about going back to work tomorrow (even though I fully had a terrible dream last night where my students were out of control)
*make assumptions about people based on their poor spelling
*ditto their facial hair

Gah, now I have to get to work.

Friday, March 27, 2009

The things I do


Went to gym. Saw old, bald man with slight beer belly. Totally looked like a farmer. He was wearing swishy Nike pants held up with suspenders. Like I said, totally a farmer.

I don't want you to think my whole life revolves around ABC's The Bachelor, because it totally doesn't, but while I was at the gym watching HGTV, on the TV next to me was a show called The Doctors. And guess who hosts it! Dr. Travis Stork, who used to be on The Bachelor. Totally watched that season. And now I feel like I have to watch The Doctors because I am still in love with him. I guess a little reality TV can really get people in the door in Hollywood.

Cooked spinach stuffed manicotti with Brittany.

Went to McDonald's and rented a movie for a buck with Britt. We chose some obscure film called "Princess." Some girl looking for her true love and crap. Got back to Britt's house, ate manicotti, popped movie in. Movie had subtitles, because it was all in French! And it wasn't called Princess. We had misread. It was called Priceless. It was utterly ridiculous and not at all what we expected, but we ended up loving it and laughing or heads off.

Went home


Woke up at 8:30 (way too early for spring break), picked up Britt, drove to old house and painted my old room. Fell into wet wall by accident and got paint in hair.

CIA agent training. Kickboxing. Sweated.

Ate a garden burger for dinner and watched LOST. Totally insane. Did Sayid really do that? What's going to happen to Ben? And I want to watch more Jack and Kate!

Logged into Facebook and visited the discussion boards for the Addicted to Lost group. Too many theories to wrap my head around.


Wednesday, March 25, 2009

If I were the parent of a 9 yr old

If I were the mother of a fourth grader, these are the things I would not let him/her do:

1) Drink soda more than twice a week. Maximum.
2) Watch Family Guy. Or The Simpsons. Or any show rated PG 13.
3) Play video games where they kill people off. Practicing murder just doesn't seem very conducive to positive future aspirations.
4) Go to bed later than 9:00pm.

Yep, that's basically it. I would just prefer that my child not have a foul mouth or dirty mind, have rotten teeth, watch images of violence, or go to school tired. It's unfortunate that not everybody agrees with this.

BTW, I finally got a hold of Malcom Gladwell's Outliers, and it is absolutely fascinating. I started it yesterday at 3pm and just finished it. And it wasn't like I read all day today either. Highly recommend it. Some things you learn are astounding. Next on my list is Sam Gosling's Snoop: What your stuff says about you. I've already started it, and it may be equally as fascinating. Usually I read YA fiction, but both of these research based books are incredibly interesting. Go to the library! Or rather, wait three days until I return them.

P.S. In the past 3.5 weeks I have lost 1.3% body fat. Which is a big deal considering how many Hershey Kisses I ate during parent-teacher conferences. Plus all that cheese.

P.P.S. You should totally go to picnik.com because they have a totally wicked photo editor. I spent hours on there Monday night.

Monday, March 23, 2009

4 day catch-up

The following is composed from notes I took during the weekend:

Friday, March 20th
I found a semi-empty notebook from Honors Biology in college, which I am using. It makes me feel smart to look through it, because it's evidence that at one time in my life I knew something about science. It has all these notes on DNA and RNA and fossil fuels and oil, and a proposal for the hydrogen fuel cell project that Katie and I did, and also notes on cloning because we fully did a project on that, too.

I am sitting in the back seat of my dad's truck, which is more spacious than I expected. I've never been in this truck before, and I'll be honest and say I kind of want to get out, because even though it's spacious, I smell something really foul and I thing I might hurl again like I did this morning.

I woke up not at all hungry, but at 10 o'clock I managed to eat a bagel. At 11is I had a conference with a parent who reeked of smoke. I tried not to barf while discussing their child's progress (or lack thereof). After the parent left, I was okay for about twenty minutes. Then I thought about how much he stank, and the memory of it made me ill. I quickly walked to the staff bathroom and promptly heaved into the toilet.

BTW, cuss word #1 and we haven't even left the driveway yet. Two plus more hours of this. God help me. Wow, this new truck has a really annoying alarm that goes off if the driver isn't buckled. Excellent, considering my dad NEVER buckles up. Now he's forced to in order to shut the alarm up.

I skipped lunch and suffered from a headache, but I didn't want to take any Tylenol on an empty stomach. I ate dinner like ten minutes ago, and now I feel like I'm gonna puke again, due to traveling in this stinky truck.

Before I went to the 'rents I stopped by Safeway to get a b-day card for my great-grandpa who is turning 90. That's why I'm in this truck--to go visit him in Redmond for his big birthday blowout. I went to the same Safeway as the one mentioned in missing connections on Craigslist. They didn't have any cards for 90 year olds, and I spent forever looking for an appropriate card. In the end, I purchased two cards to add up to 90. I got one that says "You're 80!" and another one that says "10 great things about being 10." Originally I was going to get a 40 card and a 50 card, but they were a bit depressing, so I balanced the 80 card out with the happy 10 year old card. I had other choices. I could have done a 60 card and a 30 yr old card, but they didn't have any good ones. What I really wanted was a 70 year old card and a 30 year old, because 20 is a much more exciting age. Only they don't make 20 yr cards, just 21. And they absolutely do not make 69 yr old cards. Anyway, I thought I was kind of clever about it.

While at Safeway, this super hot employee walked past me, smiled, and said hey. Later, instead of going through his check out line (because that's where he went after smiling at me) like I should have done so I could flirt, I went through a different register that took like 20 minutes because the guy in front of me had 14 bottle return slips to cash.

This is why I am incredibly single. A guy smiles at me and then I'm too shy to go through his check out line. God, how pathetic. What I should do is, on Sunday when I get back to Woodburn I need to go back to Safeway (even though I don't need anything) and seek the guy out. Only probably he won't be working then.

I just rolled the window down because I feel like gagging again. Now we're talking about Air Guitar Lady, who rocks out on the corner of Lancaster and Silverton Rd with a big yellow "shoe sale" sign around her neck.

I'm thinking about Safeway boy again. He was probably still in high school. I'll get fired for romantic relations with a minor if I go back flirt with him in the check out line.

Natalie just called. We talked for ten minutes.

I took a writing break, due to the whole hurling thing. We are in Sisters now, in the parking lot of Ray's Food Place. We bought some snacks because my parents are hungry. I wanted ginger ale, but the only kind they had was Jamaican ginger ale. I didn't want to get it because it is from Jamaica and probably tastes like actual ginger, which I don't like, but my mom said I should at least try it.

I did. God, it's awful. Now I really am going to blow chunks.

(an hour later) We're at gram's. There are so many people crammed here (my aunt, uncle, their two kids, my other aunt, uncle, gram, Leon, me, my mom, dad, and soon Jess and Travis), that I have to sleep in the living room on the floor. Actually, I take that back. The living room is taken, and I am sleeping in the dining room next to the table. I was like "um, awkward." Because I know in the morning people will be in here at 6am or sooner. I was like, "Why don't you just let me sleep on top of the table and you can eat around my feet in the morning?"

My little cousin, Colton (he's 12), is on a laptop playing some BMX game on-line. I partly want to steal it from him so I can check Facebook. But I won't, because I'm not that addicted. All the women-folk are in the kitchen scrambling to get food made for tomorrow's party. My grandma offers me some Irish cream or something (it's alcoholic), but I still feel sick and decline.

Saturday, March 21th
I hardly slept at all. People finally were out of the kitchen/dining room at 11:30, but then they were in it again at 5:30am. I pulled my sleeping bag over my head, but after a while it got hard to breathe. What I needed was a straw to poke out for sucking in fresh air. Also, I had this dream that I woke up and it was 4pm. Everyone went to the party without me and didn't bother to wake me up. They were like "oh, you can see grandpa next year." Like turning 90 was no big deal. So after I woke up and realized it was a dream, and that it was only 3:27am, I tried to go back to sleep, but it was rough.

Exactly everybody has to take a shower (12), and I have a feeling that when it gets to be my turn, there will just be ice water left. Aunt Brenda and Aunt Bink have to leave early, because Aunt Brenda needs to go to Fred Meyer to buy a dress, because no one told her it was a dress up occasion. Later, Travis needs to go buy a dress up shirt, because even though I fully talked to him on the phone a few days ago and said "wear church clothes", all he brought were t-shirts and jeans. Ditto Jess, but I am loaning her my khaki pants to wear because I also packed a dress.

I was right, the water is cold. My mom told me just to wash my hair in the sink, because at least that's warm. I'm like "hello? My hair? I don't think so." I'd rather take a two minute cold water shower than attempt to wash my locks in the laundry room sink. What a pain that would be. Plus, I have to shave my legs because I'm wearing a dress.

(three hours later) I ended up taking the two minute shower. Actually, it was a five minute warm shower, then I plugged the tub to do my legs. I was the second to last person to take a shower, because I am super nice and let people take advantage of me by letting them go first. Even my sister and brother-in-law, who likes to pretend like he doesn't like me. But I'm his favorite. He just doesn't want to admit it.

After the party today, everybody staying at gram's house is going to dinner at 5:30. My parents (well, dad) want to head home tonight, but I can't bear the thought of having to travel another four hours the very next day after such torture. Jess and Travis are going home today too. I asked my Aunt Bink if I could hitch a ride home with her so I could stay an extra day with everybody else. She said that's fine. So now I don't have to endure the ride back with my parents. Ha! Out smarted them.

Oh, hang on, it looks like we need to leave.

Since we're hosting the party, we are here very early and there is nothing to do. My cousin Morgan (10 years old) and I are trying to think of some games to play, but we don't have any cards. Since I didn't drive, I can't just go down to the store to buy some.

We convinced my Aunt Brenda to take us. We bought cards and Catchphrase. It took us about an hour to get Catchphrase to work, because although we bought batteries for it, we didn't have a screwdriver to open the back up. We tried car keys and my uncle tried a steak knife, then Morgan and I went around and asked everybody if they happened to have a Philips screwdriver on them. One person did. Now this party is a lot livelier.

There's grandpa! Wow! He's 90! And he doesn't even need a wheel chair, or a walker or anything. And he remembers who I am. In fact, he remembers everybody.

Jeesh, I'm hungry. That fruit platter looks good. And look at all those cheeses. And rolls. I love rolls. Okay, I am totally going to get a plate.

We are playing Catchphrase and it is INSANE. It keeps going off whenever my cousin, Sam, gets it. Sucker.

Gram just gave me her camera and told me to go around and take lots of pictures, which means, go snap photos of people I don't even know. I am not that outgoing. What I have to do is turn off the flash and sneak up on them so they don't know I am getting them on camera.

Wow. So I just noticed the table decorations. When my great-grandpa was still working, he was a logger. In fact, if he hadn't stayed home from work the day Mt. St. Helens blew, he'd be dead. Anyway, someone was really clever and gathered up a bunch of green shrubbery and arranged it in an old fashioned metal helmet and an old black lunch pail. And there are mini saws and wood rings all around. Very clever, my gram.

(five hours later...or so) We cleaned up the banquet hall, and now we are all back at grandma's waiting until our 5:30 dinner reservations. Like anyone feels like eating. Practically everyone is sprawled out on the floor, table, bed, etc, taking a nap.

(three or four hours later) I have a food baby. Surprisingly, I was hungry by the time we got to the restaurant (Mexican grill). Morgan (my 10 yr old cousin) and I both ordered the children's plate. My cousin Sam, who is 14 and trying to be manly, ordered the macho burrito. I ate all of my kids meal, and I really shouldn't have. Now I am going to have a food baby. Morgan looked at me a bit strangely when I tried to explain food babies to her, but she finally went along with it and helped me name my baby. Stuart. Stuart is giving me major pain. I feel like exploding. I just showed my rounded food baby to Aunt Bren, but she says it looks like nothing. Blahhhhh..

Again, we are all laying on the floor, couch, in chairs, etc. watching TV. It's only 8pm but we are all totally wiped. Leon is flipping through channels. OMG it's Paint Your Wagon. "Who's in this?" Uncle Chris asks. "Clint Eastwood," I reply. He's surprised I know this, considering the movie was made in the 70s. In case you didn't know, Paint Your Wagon is an old fashioned western musical. These people go gold panning and end up making this town. Then the gold runs out so they dig tunnels under all the saloons trying to get the gold dust that falls through the cracks. Oh, and there's this woman who has two husbands (the old fart and Clint Eastwood, when he was still young). In the end, the whole town falls into the tunnels. It's hilarious. It's also like, three and a half hours long.

Stuart is shrinking. Good baby.

I am ready for bed, only I have to sleep out in the living room and the TV is still on because Paint Your Wagon is never ending. There's like, a half hour left. I guess I will crawl into my sleeping bag.

Sunday, March 22nd

It snowed last night.

We are eating all the leftover fruit from the fruit platters for breakfast.

Talking with my uncle about police stuff.

Waiting for the first ten people to get out of the bathroom.

Grandma keeps trying to give me leftover food to take home. This happens every time I visit. It's mostly okay, except for the fact that I am hitching a ride with my aunt and uncle, and I don't know how much extra space they have. Eeew, gross, I do not want that potato salad. Sick. I am taking: four pounds of cheese, a bag of rolls, broccoli, and fruit. BTW, there were two cakes yesterday at the party, and now we have a ton of leftovers. If I was able to tolerate sugar for breakfast, I'd totally eat a slice of carrot cake. As it is, I will have to wait until at least 11am.

Now Gram is trying to give her china dishes to me. This also happens every time, because she has a lot of them. I tell her not today. Like I said, who knows how much space is going to be in my aunt's car?

Snowing again. Hopefully we'll be able to make it home. On the off chance that we end up in a snow bank for three days, at least we'll have plenty of cheese and rolls to eat, thanks to how much Gram is sending with us.

Now Gram is trying to give Morgan and I jewelry. I picked out a bracelet and Morgan chose a necklace. In Gram's jewelry box was: a plastic toothbrush bracelet that our cousin Grace made, a top, photos, a furry mink tail, a little design crocheted out of hair, football cards, and various other objects. Intriguing.

Time for carrot cake.

We're leaving now. We've been trying to leave for the past hour, but got sidetracked talking about selling an old fashioned water pitcher set on eBay, and then sidetracked about a Smith and Weston gun. My Gram has a gun. But she needs a holster, or it's too heavy.

Stopped snowing. Road is clear, but we haven't gotten to The Pass yet.

(fell asleep). Morgan is taking videos with my Flip video recorder. She thinks it's really funny to zoom in on me.

The Pass is chock full of snow and idiot drivers. We're fine though. I wasn't worried.

(hours later). Guess where we stopped? It's only the best place ever for a vegetarian to be--a meat locker! As in, where people take their dead deer and cows and stuff to get processed. We stopped to get jerky. When I say we, I mean my aunt and uncle and cousins. Inside the store it's really cold, because basically it is a big refrigerator. And there is raw, bloody meat everywhere. Plus some dried jerky. I survive. It's not too bad, because at least there isn't any carcasses hanging from the hooks in the back. Every thing's at least wrapped in plastic.

By the way, my aunt and uncle are way cute together. My aunt had a crush on him since the first time she saw him, when she was a freshman in high school. So adorable.

Whoo-hoo, almost to Silverton. I need to call my mom to come get me, so I can get my car in Woodburn.

End of notes.

Thursday, March 19, 2009

In a rush

I have to pack for my trip, plus take a shower and go to sleep so I can be at work by 7:30 tomorrow, so no time for real writing.

After I get back (Sunday?) I am sure I will have some very interesting things to write about.

Totally rocked the conference with the principals. Although, I was way nervous before hand because I couldn't eat breakfast or lunch. My meeting with them was at 2, and after it was over I promptly went into my classroom and ate a banana. Plus some chocolate because it is good for stress relief. It was so dumb, my hand was shaking as I walked down to the office for my meeting. However, I was totally fine once I got in there and sat down. I talked a mile a minute because I like to get down to business. Plus, I had a conference with a parent right after so we had to follow the clock right on the dot.

I need to figure out what I want to wear for the next three days.

Peace out and drive slow.

Wednesday, March 18, 2009

Someone was looking for you

This isn't the first time I've written about this. It's just that the missed connections ads on Craigslist is just so interesting. My favorite is when I find out that people are looking for other people that I know, or that I think I might know. For example, does anyone remember Fallon? She was an RA about four years ago or so? Short, reddish brownish hair? Some guy at the Silver Spur was looking for her. If she were my Facebook friend (which she's not), I would have messaged her to tell her about it.

Also, men at WOU taking a psych class. Some chick sits next to you every week and she thinks your intelligence is sexy. She wishes she knew how to tell you.

It's great fun when the description is specific enough that I can go find out for myself about the person. For example, that time that some woman said the pharmacist at the Rite Aid on Lancaster and Center was way hot. Or the guy who was in love with woman with braces who was working at the OSU Federal in the Safeway where my mom goes grocery shopping. It's great fun.

I think everyone should make it a point to check their local missed connections every two weeks or so, just to see if someone is looking for them.

I have a lot more to write about but I am sleepy faced and still need to take a shower before I go to beddy-bye. Conferences with parents and principals tomorrow! Someone shoot me in the foot (but not really).

Monday, March 16, 2009

How to snag a man, the movie

Oh my gatos. My sister has the perfect plan. Or the perfect idea for a screenplay. We were on the phone chatting, and she was telling me about how she was going to get some more rocks on her finger because Travis got her wedding band the other day (finally). I was like "Wish I had one of those." And she's like "You gotta get a man first." Then she came up with this elaborate scheme for how I can meet some hot guy. She suggested I enroll in some college's evening class. And nothing that would prove futile in results, like education classes. No, I need chemistry or physics or computers or something male dominated. Then I just show up to the first class, and if there aren't any hot guys, I transfer out. I'll have like the first three weeks to bounce from class to class, until I find a guy that I want to stalk, er, I mean get to know better. In fact, if I find a big enough class, I probably don't even have to enroll. I could just show up.

Additionally, Jess suggested I get a job at a college tutoring center. But I was like "then the only guys I would meet would be illiterate." So she decided that I should be the one to go to the tutoring center. I could just get any old textbook that some class is using (don't actually go to the class), and then take it to the tutoring center and be like "I don't get this." Not only do I have the possibility of meeting some hot math whizz, but maybe I could finally learn how to do geometry proofs. Who cares that our relationship would be built on false pretenses?

I think all of this would make a really good movie. Like, maybe Amy Adams could play a 27 year old woman who has never had a boyfriend in her entire life, and she's this gorgeous but lonely dental hygienist (like Shannon from The Bachelor) who once abused nitrous oxide when no one was looking, so she decides to fake going back to college in order to meet some hot man. Only instead of falling for a grad student, she ends up having the hots for an adjunct professor of botany. No! of forensics! And then what happens is, there's a murder, and the adjunct professor who used to work for the police department for a short time tries to solve the crime. He enlists the help of Amy Adams, only she doesn't know anything really about forensics. But she ends up helping him solve the case because part of the evidence has to do with teeth, and Amy knows teeth. While falling in love, the prof. finds out Amy isn't really a student at all, but he doesn't care, because he loves her and he really wishes he had dental insurance. Which he doesn't get because he's an adjunct. Oh god, it's perfect.

Sunday, March 15, 2009

Spring Break

It's 10:30am and I don't want to do anything that I have to do, but I need to. If I don't do my laundry I will have to go to work naked, which would get me fired for public indecency. If I don't go grocery shopping then I will be forced to eat my own leather cap (if I had one), like David Sedaris' father did in Me Talk Pretty One Day. If I don't prepare for my scheduled half-hour meeting with the principal and assistant principal, then I will look like an idiot.

I just want it to be 4:00pm, March 20th, because that's when spring break starts. Unlike all those cool people who are going to Cabo, or Canada, or Disneyland, I am going almost no where. The only place I am going is to Redmond, because my great-grandpa is turning 90 and we are having a big birthday party for him with all the extended relatives that I haven't seen since I wore training pants and ate Cheerios out of a Ziploc baggy. It should be lots of fun though, because approximately 17 people will be staying at my grandma's house for the night, and we usually have good times. I'll have to sleep on the floor and watch out for scorpions (okay, maybe I'm exaggerating), but my grandma is totally bomb.

I'm riding over with my parents after work this coming Friday. My mom was all "we're taking the truck, so you can just sleep in the back. It's pretty spacious." And I was all "It's not likely, because Dad will probably talk my ear off." I won't get into it, because I don't know who reads this, but if you want details, ask me. Basically, I need to make sure my iPod is charged. And that I bring a good book.

My sister's Rottweiler is going to have puppies in two weeks, and I told Jess that she should get like birth announcements so people are all "oh my goodness, Jessamy is pregnant?" Jess got married 3 months ago, FYI. Anyway, but then they'll open the announcement up and it will say "We have puppies!" Haha. I told Jess to save one for me to name. I don't have a name in mind, but I like naming things so she needs to save one. My favorite part of writing a new story is coming up with the character's names. I usually go to babynames.com and search for good ones.

This is what's going to happen to me on the off chance that Nick Zano dumps Kristin Cavallari and asks me to carry his offspring: I will suggest some names, and my husband will be like "Isn't that a character from one of your books?" And I'll say, "Why, yes, it is. Do you have a problem with that?" Because I can't save all the good names for my unborn children, on the off chance that I have any. My characters need good names, too. And okay, it might be a little weird if I name my son the same name as the hot guy in one of my books, but whatev. Hot guys always have the same sort of names anyway: Jake, Josh, Jeff, Michael, David, Ryan, Matthew, Tyler....if you meet a hot guy you have practically a 70% chance it's going to be one of these names. I realize these are common names, and that might have something to do with 70% of the population having these names. I just now Googled popular baby names and it led me to the social security online site, where you can type in a year and it shows the top 20 baby names for that year. I tried several different years and these names are almost always on there. Anyway, most of my characters have more interesting names, except in my most recent story, where the lead male character is definitely named Mike. Oops.

I need to go eat some cereal and get on with my life. Blah. Nice talking to you, see you again tomorrow.

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

witty blog title

I find that every time I teach in high heels, I have fewer behavior problems. This is because I can stomp around and it is a sound that students are forced to listen to besides my voice. All I have to do is walk over to the tile.

My contract for next year got sent to me today. I have until April 10th to sign and return it. While it is nice that I have a job guaranteed for next year, I am still a bit on edge about it. Do I really have the physical, mental, and emotional strength to do this all over again at the same school? Well, at least they didn't want to fire me. Unfortunately, people cannot fire their employers. Otherwise we may have a different story to discuss.

I am trying really hard to convince my sister to have a pancake-party-poker-soak this Friday. I need to relax.

BTW, I wrote a referral today for one of my naughty kids. Then when I was on bus duty, the office manager came out and told me that the child's mother was inside and that she was angry. I was advised to go around the building to get back to my classroom so that I wouldn't have to deal with her. Ha! The principal did instead. She gets paid enough. She can do it. Normally I am very open to communication with parents, but communicating is not having your ear yelled off by a volatile parent. Communication is back and forth. It requires listening of both sides.

Stole Natalie's black painter-esque shirt, fashioned it into a dress with leggings, and got lots of compliments today. Because Natalie has better clothes than me, which is why I need to shop in her closet more often. I guess I shouldn't say stole. She fully let me borrow it.


Plus, the clock on my computer keeps lying to me. I fixed it on Sunday for day light savings time, but it seems to have reverted back, so last night I was like "wow, I am getting in the shower at 8:17? Sweet!" But then I went to bed at 10:23.

You really should check out www.wittyblogtitle.blogspot.com, because I really get a kick out of it. Basically, everything she says is so true. And I can totally relate. Mostly. It's not so much comedic, as how my life would totally be if I were a 30-something single Jew living in New York.

The book that I put on hold two weeks ago finally got to the library. I cannot pick it up until Friday, because I know that the only thing I'll do once I get it in my hands is eat it up with my eyes. Just devour those words like I was the Cookie Monster on Sesame Street sponsored by the letter R. I am still on the waiting list for Outliers: the story of sucess. There are already 28 holds on it. Each person gets the book for three weeks, so we are looking at about May of 2010. Except that there are 19 copies available, so I don't know how to do the math on that one. I guess maximum I have to wait for nine other people to read it before me, so 9X3 is 27, so just 27 weeks to wait, or September. Sure, some people return their books before the due date, but most don't. I should just go buy the book, I know.


Tuesday, March 10, 2009


My finger did not fall off last night.

That said, because I know you were concerned....in fact, I had a teacher come into my room this morning to check on me because she was so worried...anyway, that said, I have to say that it is a shame that some people (who will go un-named, but it doesn't really matter because I highly doubt they read this anyway), do not appreciate my humor. I am in no way saying that I am a slide-splitting comedian, but I think I am funny enough. I will be completely honest with you and say that I usually laugh at things I say more often than at other people's jokes. Probably I am just a jerk. And okay, maybe you read this blog everyday and never laugh. I am sorry. Maybe I am not so much funny as clever. I said it, I think I'm clever. Maybe you don't, and that's fine.

I am just saying, I think it is really sad that some people are so unappreciative of my witty e-mails. And okay, I understand said person may lack in written communication skills. And perhaps certain similes or metaphors could be viewed as offensive. But still, you have to admit, it was clever. You certainly never would have thought of it.

I would just like to assure you (the reader of this blog) are not the target of the above written paragraphs. I know you appreciate me. That's why you read this. Above mentioned person, however, does not read this blog, does not appreciate me, and has the inability to write sentences containing more than seven words. I feel like writing more about them because I know they will absolutely never read this, but I won't. Because I'm done.

New topic.

Melissa from The Bachelor--you know, the poor girl who was proposed to and then dumped on national television?--is part of the cast for Dancing with the Stars. I never watch this show, but I think I might, just because I really liked her. I will probably ff to the part where she and her partner dances, because I could care less about everyone else. They didn't get their hearts broken and have their fiance leave them to go out with the snotty Molly. Hate her. Go Melissa!

I have still not uploaded any of my saved files back onto my computer. Like, absolutely nothing. I have found that this prevents me from doing work. Not only I have I not done lesson plans over the weekend since the crashing of my computer, but I haven't really done anything fun either, like work on my book that really needs to get finished (mostly so I can quit my job).

Today I took a book to the gym while I was on the elliptical, and I have to say the time went by much faster. By the time I read a chapter, ten minutes had already past! Wowzie time flew by with a funny book (Me Talk Pretty One Day by David Sedaris). Sad part is I only have two chapters left. = ( Something that made me laugh was this part that was all "I'm really excellent at keeping secrets. I don't tell a soul. This one time in high school I had a baby and nobody even knew. I gave birth to it in the woods behind my house, and as soon as I was finished cleaning myself up, I took it in to give it up for adoption. Actually, I just left it on the steps of the agency in a cardboard box lined with blankets. I didn't want a paper trail. But I'm not heartless, I stayed around long enough to make sure someone picked it up. I am really good at keeping secrets." Or something along those lines. It was absolutely hilarious.

By the way, and I don't know where I read this, but it is totally true and equally as humorous. The article (or whatever I was reading) said that lol written after any statement can completely destroy the credibility of said statement. For example: I have cancer. lol. I love you. lol. I really think you should stay in school and finish your degree. lol. My pet died. lol. 911 emergency, how can I help you? lol. See what I mean?

Monday, March 9, 2009

I'm Black and Blue....for yooouuuu (not)

I more or less lost my middle finger today at work. It is all very disturbing. I dropped my urchins off at recess, went into the staff room to microwave my lunch, and felt that the first joint in my middle finger was really itchy. Two minutes later I sat down at the table and looked at my finger again. It had turned blue. I showed this shaded phenomenon to the other teachers, who were equally as concerned. They told me to take my ring off and asked what it was made of. I replied that I wore this ring all the time, it wasn't some weird reaction. Nevertheless, I switched the ring onto a different finger, and it was a good thing too. I kid you not, three minutes later my middle finger started to loose feeling. I looked at it and it had swelled up like a sausage. I completely had a bratwurst as a middle finger. This really freaked me out, and Gia told me to go get some ice. I went to the office, got an ice pack, and told Yolanda what had happened. Her guess was that I got bit by a spider and was having a reaction, considering the initial itching. I carried ice around on my finger while teaching for an hour, and the swelling has gone down, but my finger is really purple/blue. Plus, I have been feeling itchy all day long since thinking about having a spider crawling on me unknowingly. I need to wake up about five minutes earlier tomorrow, because I predict my finger will fall off tonight while I am sleeping and I will need that extra time to search for the detached phalange in the morning.

Unrelated, but sort of related: my naughtiest child went home early today due to a facial rash. Natalie, I know we talked about this. I had nothing to do with it.

Completely unrelated confession, but sort of related because I just ate dinner. This is a tiny bit embarrassing, but I will admit to you that I like to eat maple sugar baked beans. I grew up with them at family potlucks, however, often times carnivorous relatives mix slices of hot dogs in with them, making it inedible. My other preferred bean is the black bean, and I eat it a lot with corn and tortillas. Additionally, my most favorite bean is the human bean. I think they're cute.

I have a really big rant to get into, but I won't go there today. Possibly tomorrow, unless something more interesting happens, like I lose an entire arm due to an invisible hobo spider bite.

FYI There is a beached whale near Florence at Heceta Head. It perished over the weekend, and the beach has been closed until the carcass can be buried. Apparently officials decided not to blow it up, like last time.

Sunday, March 8, 2009

He's no longer bald

I have spent the majority of this weekend on my backside trying to breathe, blowing snot out of my nose, and reading. Glamorous life I lead, I know. I read two complete books this weekend, starting both on Saturday. The Tales of Beedle the Bard, 111 pages, by J.K. Rowling, and Ransom My Heart, 396 pages by Meg Cabot. I know the last one sounds like a trashy romance novel, but I liked it so you can shove it.

Basically, it is set in 1291 England and this tomboyish maiden sets out to hold a man for ransom so she can get money to pay for the wedding of her pregnant sister. She has quite an attitude and the knight that she ends up kidnapping falls in love with her. There's a lot of sarcasm, arguments, and a murder, but it turns out fine in the end.

Something that is on my mind: do you know anyone who was close to baldness, but then you saw them again sometime later, and they had a full head of hair? Take my seventh grade science teacher, for example. Mr. Purtyman (I swear that's his real name) had a very much so receding hairline, but I saw him again in tenth grade at a grocery store buying radishes and he had a full head of hair. Makes you wonder what sort of experiment he was mixing in the lab. Mr. Purtyman is not the only near-bald man I know who has magically sprung some new follicles. I know of at least two other men who had very thin hair, and then surprised me later with their luscious locks. I really want to ask them what happened. Did they try Rogain or something? Or is it really an illusion and they have all those little magnetic bits clinging to their hair to make it look full, and every night before they go to sleep they have to get a magnet and take it all off and put it in a little jar for safekeeping?

Spring break starts in two weeks. However, before that I have to hold conferences with the parents of my delightful students. I am so terrified of one in particular, that I foresee myself getting so angry that I will have to walk out of the classroom. I have already imagined/day dreamt the whole thing. After walking out fuming, I either go outside and lean against the cold brick walls and cry, or I hide in the darkened supply closet. God help me.

Thursday, March 5, 2009

Time for new lies

Two new truths and a lie have been posted on factsandfibs.blogspot.com (which is my other blog devoted to at least thirty-percent lies...I tell the truth more often because that is just the kind of person that I am).

Speaking of lies, or truths, or deep dark secrets I guess--I finally posted the link to Her Bad Mother's Basement on my page. Check it out, because it is deliciously and horribly honest.

I left school today like I just don't care. Mostly because I don't. Tomorrow is grading day, and I didn't take anything home with me. Chances are, I won't care tomorrow either. But it will get done.

I need to check the settings on my Facebook account, because I think I might have it so that friends of my friends can look at my page. With so many of my friends' parents getting on Facebook, I feel like I need to change this. If my parents got a Facebook account and friend requested me, I would deny them. Relatives I would accept: my Grandma Terrie, Aunt Bink, and Aunt Brenda. But none of them have Facebook, as far as I know.

Reason I cannot accept friend requests from teachers at my school: they would then see this blog because it sometimes pops up in my mini-feed. And then they would know that I write about them sometimes. Like, for example, that one time I wrote about the cat lady. I can't have my co-workers going around knowing that I blog about them.

Susan and I totally discussed The Bachelor today after school. She hates it just as much as I do.

I really want to watch Lost, but I think I may wait until Friday evening. At lunch in the staff room one day, I found out Gia hates Jack's character. She quit watching Lost after Charlie died, and she's always disliked Jack. She roots for Sawyer instead. That should tell you something. Although, I have become more fond of Sawyer over time, mostly the time he has been away from Kate.

Wednesday, March 4, 2009

Why I hate TV

Last night I told Natalie that I am never watching "reality" shows ever again, only TV shows I know are completely fictional. You just never know what the truth is these days. I was extremely upset at how the end of The Bachelor turned out. Yes, Jason did what I wanted and proposed to Melissa. Then six weeks (but essentially five minutes in TV time) later he dumps her and wants Molly back. Seriously, what the heck? Who does that to someone? Who full on proposes, and then takes it back? If you are going to propose, you better know for sure. Anyway, I was super pissed and glad it was over so that I will never watch The Bachelor ever again, or any other reality show.

But I have to take it back, because today I watched After the Final Rose Ceremony, part TWO. In this stupid episode, they bring Jason and Molly back to see how they are doing (hate them both now), but then the host announces who the new bachelorette is going to be. Of course it's Jillian. Love her. I said that I would never watch The Bachelor again unless it were Melissa or Jillian. Well, Jason was an idiot and is with neither girl, and now the spotlight's going to be on Jill. Now I have to watch it.

I know the only reason they picked their new bachelorette immediately was because they knew every woman in America was hating on ABC. No one was going to watch again unless it were Jillian. This is how this awful chain of addiction happened. ABC knows just what to do.
event 1: Brad Womack chooses neither Jenny nor DeAnna in the end. He sends both girls home and does not want to pursue either relationship further. America is stunned and outraged.
response 1: ABC chooses DeAnna as the bachelorette, because America liked her and wanted to see her find her happy ending.
event 2: The Bachelorette airs, with DeAnna starring. In the end, she chooses snowboarder Jesse over the obvious choice, Jason. America is stunned and semi-outraged. Many woman plea with ABC to have Jason be the next bachelor.
response 2: ABC chooses Jason for The Bachelor, because his heart was broken with DeAnna, since he was down on one knee about to propose.
event 3: Jason stars in his show, proposes to Melissa, then breaks it off six weeks later on national television. Then he asks his second choice, Molly, if she'll take him back. She agrees. Poor Melissa leaves broken hearted. America is stunned and extremely outraged like never before.
response 3: ABC wastes no time in selecting and announcing the bachelorette, Jillian, who was the third runner up. Everyone loved her since she was totally honest, fun, and real (also, not a bitch like some people with names starting with m and ending in olly).
event 4: Jillian will star as the bachelorette. Hopefully she will find the man of her dreams and not break some other cute guy's heart, because if she does....then....
response 4: the cute guy she dumps will be the next bachelor, and I'll have to watch that crap too. Make a smart choice, Jill, please.

While I am mad, it's not my life, so I can probably get over it in a day or two. On the plus side, my last two books came in the mail, so I am going to have some really good reading over the weekend (after student grades are done on Friday).

I am going to sleep at 8:30 because I have been sick for the last seven days now, but cannot convince myself to get a sub for tomorrow. My personality won't allow it. I only missed one college class in all my life because I was really ill, and I missed like five days all of high school. I don't miss work. Sucks, too, since I get paid for being sick and staying at home.

Monday, March 2, 2009

Single Psychic Slanket

I really need one of these. It's called a Slanket, and it is basically a blanket with sleeves. Totally useful. How many times have you been all snuggled up on the couch, but then you need to reach for the remote/book/potato chip and you don't want to expose your arms/fingers to the frigid element that is your living room? Here is a picture.Here is another picture. I think you will agree that a brown Slanket can also double as a monk costume.

On the way home today I was listening to this female DJ that I really hate named Kim Iverson. She has a very annoying personality, but her stupid show is the only thing on the radio at seven at night. Anyway, today was Metaphysical Monday, where she brings in this crackpot psychic to tell people their fates. This one woman calls in and asks (in a strong southern accent) what is going to happen to her in the next three years. Broad question, I know. The psychic tells her that she sees education in the woman's future. Going back to college, or a class, or something. In reality, the psychic is probably recommending this because the woman on the other end of the line sounds like a hill billy. Then the psychic says that a certain book will be making a big impact on the woman's life. It is a nice, leather bound book with gilt edging on the pages. It is not a journal, but something already printed. She says to look for that book, and it will guide her future. I'm thinking, there is one book I know that looks like that. Dark leather? Gilt edges? Important? Will guide your life? Um...try the Bible. So next time Southern Belle walks into a Border's she'll see said book and her future will go from there. Done. I could be a psychic. Call in and ask me your questions.

I found this article on-line yesterday and I think it is hilarious. Here is a taste: "Time spent single is a lot like time spent in the bathroom. It's the most natural thing in the world, until you're there just a moment too long. But once you hit that point, there's no turning back. People start to wonder what's wrong with you. Gross images start popping into their heads. The next time they see you, you might smell a little funny to them. But hey, look on the bright side, at least nothing's actually wrong with you, right?" To read the whole hilarious thing, complete with pictures, go here.

One of my books came in the mail on Saturday! It's Hungry Planet by Peter Menzel. Could read it for hours, mostly because of all the pictures. Come over for tea some time and I'll let you look at it.

Sunday, March 1, 2009

Near Domestic Failure

I went grocery shopping today and basically had to throw myself into the refrigerated cheese section in order to reach the very last bag of shredded Mexican cheese. If I had been three inches taller, the task would have been infinitely easier. Instead I assembled blocks of Tillamook chedder to make some stairs leading up to the lonely Mexi cheese bag. More or less. But I was so happy that I got there in time to get the last bag. In retrospect, a good idea would have been to jump inside my shopping cart, scoot over to the cheese bag, and then stand up in the cart to reach it. Good ideas always come after the fact.

Despite having my computer up and running again, I have not attempted to reload any of my files saved to CDs, and I have not tried to reload music back up to iTunes, due to the fact that I have to reinstall Windows XP service pack 2 and can't get that to work. Instead of dealing with the problem, I choose to take long naps and try to forget about it. Also, watch a lot of trashy MTV. BTW, finale of The Bachelor is on tomorrow! Which means I will see it on Tuesday.

In case you have a blue sweater that says handwash, you probably should either a) handwash it or b) machine wash it on delicate BY ITSELF so it doesn't get blue lint fuzz all over the rest of your clothes. I didn't even put the sweater in the dryer, but all the other clothes got enough fuzz on them from the washer to create a massive lint blanket. I cleaned the lint trap and could have knitted a matching hat out of it to go with said sweater. Now the sweater is lying in a wet heap on my floor.

I hauled home literally forty pounds of student work to grade, since the quarter ends on Friday, and I just began grading it a half an hour ago. On the bright side, a lot of my kids passed their multiplication facts tests. On the dark side, I still have thirty-nine pounds left of paper to grade. Also, I will admit to you that I was a very bitchy teacher last Friday, and was a bit meaner and more sarcastic than I needed to be. I will try to make up for it tomorrow and be pleasant.

Additionally, I have decided that I will make a goal to be single until the age of forty-five. I figure I can keep myself busy until then because I plan on: getting my Master's degree in something, totally overhauling a house once I buy one, becoming a foster parent, teaching abroad, and being a published author. It's not that I want to be single until 45, but it seems like if I make it a goal, then I won't be allowed to have pity parties for myself. After I turn 45 I will move to a small village in Africa and become their Queen.
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