Some Numbers

She asks, "how often do you think of me?"

He says, "All the time. I think of you every minute of every day. You grace my dreams and my reality."

She asks, "How much do you love me?"

He says, "I love you every second of every minute of every hour of every day. I love you 7 days a week, 52 weeks a year, 365 days a year. You are everything."

She asks, "how many ways do you love me?"

He says, " I love you 60 different ways every minute, and 60 other ways every hour. I love you 24 different ways each day, and 7 different ways every week. Each month I love you 30 ways, and every year I love you 365 different ways. I love you a lot. I love you 31,536,000 ways a year."

She smiles. "That's sounds like enough."

He says, "I wish it were more."

You Are Loved

You'd think with a whole week of not teaching I'd have all this time to write some really riveting things. In case you have not yet figured this out in life, what you think rarely ever comes to pass. It's not like I've been totally swamped either. I did not go shopping on Black Friday. I didn't do a lot of anything.

Here is what I have been doing:

*eating mashed potatoes, stuffing, and pie leftovers just about everyday. They're gone today.
*picking up massive amounts of yard debris. I raked a few leaves, picked up about 67 pine cones, and raked a copious amount of dried up pine needles out of my yard (if you could call it that. It's not so much a yard as a strip). I was feeling pretty good about myself for doing this on Friday.
*getting a haircut, which I am still trying to figure out how to style
*organizing my childhood ish in my garage. My mom made me take everything out of her extra room the night of Thanksgiving.
*updating my iTunes library, and subsequently, my iPod, which has brought nothing but frustration to me. It is being a royal PITA. I don't know why it won't load what I tell it to, when there is fully enough space left to do so. I am trying again tomorrow, after I pray to God, go to church, and repent for my recent sins. Sometimes I think God is trying to punish me gravely, and this is one of those times. Another time I was severely punished was senior year of high school, when the guy I was drooling over all year never asked me to prom, even though I prayed to God every night that he would. I went through punishment, because God does not look kindly upon those who lust. Instead he prefers to make them single for two decades. Here is the part where I am struck down dead for talking smack about God.
*going to Home Depot to find a curtain rod, but then ended up going to Target and buying a curtain rod, plus a movie, plus a nice warm sweatshirt.
*ironing fabric for Britt to sew said curtains.
*reading The Time Traveler's Wife.

So I apologize for not crafting The Great American Novel over my week long break. Sorry. Really.

P.S. I secretly want to title this post "Go eff yourself," not because I hate you, but mostly because I am still bitter about the whole iPod/no prom date sr. year thing. Conversely, I chose the above title. In short, I am feeling a bit like Calma Harrison from Am I right or Am I right?

Thanksgiving Cliche

I am guessing that on thousands of blogs everywhere, people are posting what they are thankful for. I thought I could be controversial and post a list of things I am not thankful for, but that seemed a bit Grinch-like.


(In no particular order) I am thankful for:
1) having a job, even if it majorly time consuming and stressful
2) my house, even though we have an ant problem
3) my super awesome next door neighbors
4) my roommates and close friends
5) my fake brother even though sometimes he is mean to me.
6) Charmin ultra soft toilet paper
7) Amy Sedaris videos on YouTube
8) my students this year, because they are a lot nicer
9) not having to drive over the Marion St/Center St. Bridge every morning and evening
10) free address labels
11) Wendy's
12) the library
13) Mapquest, because otherwise I would get totally lost all the time
14) TARGET
15) Morningstar Farms Grillers Chik'n Veggie Patties. Yum! So happy they brought them back after a year long absence.

T minus 2 days

Sorry I've been ignoring you, but last Saturday I had to go into my classroom, Sunday I was getting ready for conferences, and I had to work 12 hour days on Monday and Tuesday for parent-teacher conferences. Good news is I don't have to work on Wednesday, so maybe if you play your cards right I'll tell you something interesting.

On Monday I wrote a possible post on notebook paper. I was in my classroom having an anxiety attack. But that has passed. 

A confession: On the week that I need it most, I am only planning on going to the gym one time. All the other days I will be eating pie and mashed potatoes.

P.S. The T in the title stands for turkey, not time.

What I like to do on Friday nights

After going to kickboxing, I like to go home and relax by...

1) checking e-mail, Facebook, and blogs.

2) eating icecream after dinner.

3) cleaning up a bit. You know, get an old toothbrush and clean the gunk around the drains in the sinks. Because this pink stuff starts to build up. I still haven't asked my dad (the water expert) why my water turns stuff pink. Note to self: start this stimulating conversation at Thanksgiving dinner.

4) calling my sister to see if I can go over to her house and watch her cable TV.

5) going to Flickr: The Unclutterer Workspaces Pool to look at photos of organization. Then I laugh/realize how anal some people can get, like in the photo where someone full on velcroed their pencil to a desk. Actually put a Velcro dot on the desk and on the pencil. Ridiculous. But then I get jealous of some people's garages. No bikes velcroed to walls, though.

6) reading books I got for my birthday.

7) going to bed early.

In My Defense

I am at home, in front of the computer, googling images of James Mcavoy. Okay, so maybe not, but I wish I was. I am on my computer when I hear Natalie yell from her room "Joelle, you do not have a Twitter account!" She's shocked. She's outraged, as mad as she'd be if I were suddenly addicted to Twilight and started buying New Moon brand clothes and vampire gloss from B.P.

So let it be known: I only started a Twitter account so I could follow these 3 people that I read blogs/websites of. Three people I swear. But then people started following me, and I felt lame for not "tweeting" anything. But I still didn't do it for like three months practically. I would just check the 3 people I followed because I really was actually interested in what they were doing (they are authors), and liked all the links they posted. Mostly, I got mad when they didn't post a new blog daily, so I stalked them on Twitter instead. But like I said, I started to feel lame that I never said anything. So I started saying lame stuff on my account, like most of the population does.

Because you know, maybe there is that one reader that gets mad when I don't post daily, but they feel relief that they can follow me on Twitter. You never know. I wouldn't want to be the reason someone has a bad day. So yes, Natalie. I have a freaking TWITTER!

Love you. ; )

P.S. I don't really like it. I do it out of obligation.

Things that don't make sense

While driving home I saw a reader board that said: dispose of ashes in a proper manner. The first thing that popped into my head was "cremation." Maybe this was because I was reading about animal cremation before I went to bed last night. But the reader board was outside the fire station, not a veterinary office.

Additionally, while on the way home I listened to the song "One less lonely girl." I wondered to myself, why the heck are they playing a song sung by a nine year old? This is so weird. So as soon as I got home I googled the song title, which led me to the music video. I suffered through watching the whole thing just to tell you I am highly disturbed. It starts out in this laundry mat, where it seems like some mom goes to wash her clothes. The kid is sitting in the corner with a guitar. The mom-like-woman keeps smiling at him, like she's flirting. I think, okay, this is a little weird, but I smile at cute little kids, so what? But then she leaves her red scarf. The little kid picks it up and then makes all these signs for the older woman. He leaves them at the laundry mat so the next time she goes she sees them. Then she follows them, laughing in a giddy manner the whole time. In the end she finds the kid, and they get dangerously close while dancing. No kiss, but noses were touching. This is highly disturbing. Like, I cannot go to work tomorrow.

Reminds me of what a nine-year-old student said to me after receiving his class pictures. "Wow, I look really hot. Miss G, don't you think I look hot? Would you date me?"

"No," I say flatly. God save me.

Kate Gosselin Hair

We were second to last for lunch, standing in line near the not-cafeteria (it is a hallway that they wheel a salad bar into), when I look at Grace. She has her eyes closed.

"Grace, what are you doing?"
"Praying that there will be chicken nuggets left."
Ten minutes later, she joins the line of kids waiting to go back to class with their lunch.
"I see you got some chicken nuggets," I say to her.
"Yup. Praying always works."
See, she knows.

Transition to story number 2....

I was at the gym and realized that this woman I have seen many times before has Kate Gosselin hair, only I didn't notice before because she is a brunette. But it totally is. Longer and straight in the front, spiky in the back. As SNL would say "It's like the front is walking into a job interview, and the back is leaving a rock concert."

Saturday Morning News

Good morning, it's a sunny day on The Real Pretend at 47 degrees with a humidity of 70 percent. Wind is flowing at a gentle 8 MPH.

Stay tuned for these news stories:
*What new blogs Joelle recommends
*How her name is sort of like Cher, but mostly not
*What she discovered on her trip back to high school


But first, some harsh judgment by yours truly. While I was at the grocery store on Wednesday, this is the conversation I heard behind me, between mother and child.

Mother: Look, it's Grizzly Adams. (Points to tall, oldish man with long gray beard standing in the checkout line RIGHT NEXT TO US.)

Child: Who's that?

Mother: You know, like a Mountain Man.

Two minutes later, another, even taller man wearing a black suit joins the neighboring line. He has dark hair and a mustache.

Mother: It's a mortician (whispers to child).

Child: Creepy.

Three minutes later.

Child: Mom, when is Thanksgiving?

Mother: I have no idea. I think on a Thursday.

I think: Really? You are an adult and you do not know that Thanksgiving falls on the fourth Thursday of every November? It's the only holiday that is consistent like that. You think that it is on a Thursday? Oh my god. She probably doesn't know the date of the Fourth of July either.

Now back to our topics at hand.

I was on unclutterer.com, which I ironically visit when I am putting things off (mainly cleaning), when I found a link to LobotoMe, which is not a doctor owned and operated site, when I found more links that led me to blogs I like to look at. These include Black*Eiffel, which sounds sort of French but I'm not sure if it is, and Mer Mag, who is this artsy mom who has adorable blond children and does all sorts of crafty things for them that makes you wish she had been your mother. It has a lot of photos of purely whimsical subject matter. Search through until you find the Peter Pan birthday party, it's my favorite.

Next, how my name is like Cher but mostly not. If you mention the musical artist Cher, everyone knows who you are talking about. Cher. No last name is needed. In fact, most people don't know she has a last name. She's a first name kind of girl.

I was at the gym and it was launch week, which means for every class you go to, you get entered into a raffle. They gave me a card and a pen, and I wrote "Joelle" on it. I later realized maybe I should have put my last name on it, but I probably didn't need to. I am 99% I am the only Joelle who attends my gym. It was kind of like in college, where if you said my name to someone, they knew it was me because I was the only one. In fact, my parents probably could have left off my last name. I know there are other Joelles, but I think I could have been distinguished easily like this: "Joelle" "Who?" "Joelle, you know, the one from 1985." Because who else named their baby Joelle in 1985? No one.

Sorry I am such a liar, but the part where I tell you about what I discovered at my high school when I went back will have to wait. I've lost my attention span, and chances are you have too. So you know, more later.

I am going to go buy a winter coat at Old Navy, because they are 50 percent off.

11/12/13

I did some math and when I turn 28 my birthday will be on November 12th, 2013. That's 11/12/13, which is probably the day the world will end, not 12/12/12, like the new movie and ancient Mayans predicted.

When people thought chaos would ensue for Y2K, I was mildly excited. For months before, my mom stocked up on dried beans and rice. We had buckets upon sealed buckets of food stored up. We even bought our own flour grinder. I had just started public school and was excited about the prospect that everything would crash and schools would close, but I would still get home schooled and get smarter than every one else*, while they were at home in the dark, not eating toast, because even the toasters had computer chips in them set to combust on 01/01/00. But Y2K didn't happen, and we ended up having over 200 pounds of dried foods left in a closet in our house for six years instead. However, we were ready to reenact the Oregon Trail.







*While I was in school I thought it was important to be smarter than everyone else. I finally realized this was a bad idea, because all it meant was that you had to be the one in charge of group work, since you knew the most. Also, that boys you had crushes on would try to work with you in biology class, not because they liked you, but because they were lazy and wanted the answers.

Nobody Likes You When You're 23

I feel like I typically look forward to Veteran's Day more than my birthday. It's one day before, and I never have to go to school (or now, work) whereas I do have to work on my birthday. Also, it's never a let down. There are no expectations, just me doing whatever I want on my day off. My birthdays have a pattern of sucking since age 14 (minus last year when Liz and Natalie coordinated an excellent Trailer Trash Tragedy murder mystery).

So if:
*it rains today, I don't care, it's not my birthday.
*I don't get presents today, I don't care, it's not my birthday.
*no one tells me "happy birthday" today, I don't care, it's not my birthday.
*my former best friend decides not to come to my party today, I don't care, it's not my birthday.
*I wake up in a casino parking lot today, I don't care, it's not my birthday.
*I have to wait 2 hours just to eat cold noodles for dinner today, I don't care, it's not my birthday.
*my friend talks about how she's planning a surprise party for someone else today, I don't care, it's not my birthday.

It is, however, the last time in my life that I will be twenty-three. But I guess it's okay, because like Blink 182 says, nobody likes you when you're twenty-three. 

If I loved someone from far away

If I loved someone who lived far away, this is what I would do during the month of December--Side note: I don't like it when people talk about Christmas before Thanksgiving is over, but I've been reading some other people's blogs and it's got me thinking--It's really too bad that you aren't in love with me and live in Colorado or Maine or Alberta, Canada or something, because this would have been very exciting for you. There's still time.

Again, If I loved someone who lived far away, this is what I would do during the month of December. Actually, I probably would start the last week in November, just so I would be ready. I'd go to the Craft Warehouse and buy all the delicious paper that I covet, and then I would craft a whole slew of envelopes and cards. I would need 25 of them.

I would write something sweet on each card. Probably just a sentence, because I think something pithy makes more of an impact than a ten page love letter. The max I'd probably go is eight sentences.

Then I'd go to the post office and buy some stamps. I would stick a stamp on each envelope, and mail a new card everyday. I might send the first one on November 25th, just to be sure the first one arrives in time. I would send a card everyday, so that whomever I love would receive one from December first until Christmas.

People get so caught up in buying presents, but don't you think this is something that you would remember forever? That you would keep and look at again in the future? And it's economical too.

Estimated cost:
stamps 25 X 0.44  = $11.00
paper and envelopes = $15

Total: $27.00

It's too bad I don't love someone far away.

Post Number 301

What I am doing tomorrow (Friday):

Waking up early, putting on jeans and a hoody, messy hair, then to the tiny diner down the street for breakfast with Natalie before grading day.

Grading writing from 8 to 10am
Grading math from 10 to 11
Grading science from 11 to 11:30
Grading reading from 11:30 to 12:30
Lunch
More reading grading 12:30 to 1:30
Fill out paper progress reports 1:30 to 2:30
Fill out on-line progress reports 2:30 to 3:30. Oh wait. The pie social is at 2:30....uhhhh I don't know. I don't know how I'm going to get it all done. I'll probably stay late, as per usual.
Kickboxing from 5:30 to 6, because I have to peace out early so that I can go to a high school play (Beauty and the Beast). I'm really excited to see my old school's new campus, and to check out the new theater, because it totally sucked when I went there.
Then I am going to go to sleep like a rock.
And mostly I just did this post because I didn't want to miss a day, which is exactly what they say not to do in writing. It's about quality, not quantity.
Last thing I'm going to say is props to Jenn for using Cooktop Magic and making my stove sparkle. She owns her own cleaning business, so if you need some clean-up, lemme know. Also, Kaitlynn, I miss your face.
Additionally, I turn old in 7 days. Probably should go pick out my dentures now.

Someone call 911

I'm going 4 for 4 this month. Quite amazing, really, considering what a big slacker I typically am.

Let me tell you what I witnessed.

I was at the best store in the world, Target, buying some more ant killer. I made my purchase and then decided to go to Wendy's because a) I was hungry b) It was nearby and c) it was 8:15pm. I had just got my order when a skinny man with a tattoo in his ear comes in. He's talking on his cell phone and asking the girl behind the counter for a bag of ice.

"What?"

"A bag of ice. The girl out here is kind of hurt." He talks into a cell phone. "Dude, you would not believe what just happened. I was pulling out of Wendy's and clipped this girl who was on a bike. Yeah. I didn't even see her, and she didn't see me. Yeah. She's okay and everything, but we are really shaken up."

I decide to leave Wendy's, because clearly, it is hazardous to my health. I get out to the parking lot and her an ambulance. I see flashing red and blue lights. I wait awhile, and then pull around the other side of Wendy's so I can exit. Right there on the corner, in the little patch of grass, is a woman who is being all strapped together by five very attractive paramedics. They have a stretcher and are about to place her in it. I'm seriously right there, where I can see her face.

Confession: Instead of thinking "ohhh, I hope she is okay," I was like "ooooh, hot paramedics." And then I started to think about what it might be like to be rescued by five such paramedics. And spend some time in the ambulance with them. Which reminded me of the time I dislocated my knee cap in Valsetz freshman year of college. I had slipped on a puddle of water. The grilled cheese sandwich I had on my plate went flying, and within five minutes I had two of the public safety academy trainees assisting me. They told me their name so I wouldn't be freaked out (like I was. It's just what they are trained to do). They told me not to move my head even though it was fine. What they should have said was don't move your knees. Eventually I was able to hobble back to my dorm room, without any dinner. I should have sued the university so I could have gotten free tuition. It was negligence on their part.

So anyway, pray for the girl who got hit, you know. But I think she'll be okay. I didn't see any blood.

um, there's some hair on your butt...

reason number 29 not to own a cat: white hair will get stuck to the seat of your ill-fitting black sweat pants, causing the people behind you at the gym to laugh inside their heads at you.

Seriously. This woman had cat hair stuck everywhere. I was behind her during Group Power. Way funny. But mostly gross.

Confession: I've been sitting here for eight minutes trying to come up with something clever to say, but my brain is taxed. I apologize. That's all I've got for you today. But I'm going to log off and go work on a ridiculous short story, which may or may not be season two of The Roommate Adventures.

Again, sorry for the lapse in brain synapses. Check back some other time.

From the Files of...

I've been struggling to spell definitely since 1994. I'm really self conscious about this word, ever since the 8th grade when I wrote it on a poster in colored pencil. My teacher marked it in red and deducted 2 points. I want to spell it definetly all the time. I seriously take ten seconds every time it comes up and think de-finite-ly. Do you think the reason mom was mad was because I couldn't spell? Or because Jess was being weird? Or maybe because I only wrote three complete sentences for my writing assignment that day? You'd think from my journals that I hated writing. I probably did at the time, because I would rather read than write. I keep telling my mom that I don't remember learning to write when I was home schooled, and here is the proof. I honestly do not know what sort of transformation happened, because starting in 8th grade I always got As in English. You know, minus that 2 point deduction thing.

Here's another one.

  Wow! Really? Developmental Mathematics Level 8 Multiplication Concepts and Facts by L. George Saad, Ph.D? I'm glad I can refer back and see exactly what text I was using to learn in 4th grade...Oh my gatos. I just Googled it and I can see all the objectives and everything right here. Oh my lord, and you can see what kinds of problems I was solving here. Way to keep accurate educational records, Jo Jo.

And a G.C.C. meeting? The first of many secret meetings I would hold in my life. Also, in case you were wondering, reading a hole book is easier than reading a complete book, just like eating a doughnut hole is easier than reading a complete doughnut. But they don't sell hole books in the pastry aisle, so don't bother looking.

Happy Monday. Much love.

November First is here

I woke up and saw it was a gorgeous day. Then I remembered it's November first, which is the beginning of NaNoRiMo. And I thought, "Oh crap." I'm not sure if I'm going to participate this year. If I do, I'm cheating. The rules are you have to start a brand new novel and write 50,000 words by the end of the month. But I sort of have four novels that need finishing, so if I participate, I'm just going to get 50,000 words spread out over those novels. Because I am a procrastinator.

I know I can finish one novel in 10,000 words or less, because it is almost done. Another one probably needs 40k on it still, and another needs maybe 30k, and the last one that I started over the summer needs like 55k. But no way in hell am I writing 135,000 words in one month. No.

It's time to get inspired. Which means I should read.