A Different Kind of Barf

This actually happened.

2012-01-28T12:56:00.001-08:00

On one of my many "let's see if this bus will take me where I need to go" adventures last week, I was witness to what is thus far the Craziest Fucking Thing that has happened while I was on a bus. There is a lot of competition for this title, so I take it very seriously. I was attempting to take the 48 after taking the 44, but oops, the road that the 48 goes on was under construction, so I was wandering a little aimlessly until I saw a major intersection where I thought surely there would be a bus stop. There was! There was also a man being frisked over the hood of a police car in front of what I can only assume is one of those Chinese Buffet/titty bar/prostitution fronts that Seattle is known for. So I get on the bus, trying to figure out if this will indeed take me where I need to go, when I realize that the man sitting across from me is apparently blind and trying to reach across the aisle and touch me because I smell good. No, really. This is what is happening! He is blindly groping through the air in my general direction because he says that "someone smells good." Christ. The one day I shower AND put on deoderant, this is what happens. He gets pretty darn close to touching me so I politely ask him not to. Fast forward to the next bus stop when a blind woman gets on the bus and through some cruel twist of fate sits down next to the groping blind man. She appears to be a professional woman in her 40s, he appears to be mentally ill and in his 30s. She has an actual cane, he has some sort of stick he has fashioned into a cane. He proceeds to tell her about his "blindness" which is not actually blindness (seeing as when she asked where he lived he gestured to the neighborhood we were in which HE COULDN'T EVEN SEE), but I'm not sure that this woman realizes that because SHE IS TRULY BLIND. I am watching all of this with some sort of horror/amusement combination. And then I missed my stop.

What grad school does to people

2012-01-18T19:29:00.000-08:00

So I just got an invitation to go see a movie that included the title of the movie, name of the producer, location of theater, link to a trailer for the movie, and link to other theaters and their schedules in case I want to see a different movie. Apparently going to see a movie=dissertation proposal. Ha!

In other news, I have been invited to join an indoor soccer team. The team name is "kegs for legs" so I think me and my giant thighs should fit right in. However, I think they actually asked me to play not because of my athletic prowess, but rather because the team likes to go to trivia night at a pub after the games but no one on the team is from the US. I have a feeling they may be a little disappointed...

As you can see, my social life is really looking up(ish). That said, classes were cancelled today and I didn't get dressed or leave my apartment at 8pm and I only left to go buy wine. Don't be jealous.

A poem and a tweet.

2012-01-16T14:16:00.000-08:00

Good afternoon, comrades. I greet you heartily after completing some much-needed empirical research in pursuit of the perfect bloody mary. I found a good one, but it was far too expensive to achieve my research goals.

In other EXCITING news, in an effort to be more disconnected from human beings and more connected to people who exist only in the internet, I have started tweeting. Which sounds vaguely dirty. You can find my fictional(ish) 140 character ramblings here: @DoloresCosmo. Dolores Cosmo is my witness protection name. Don't tell.

But to counter my increasing obsession with the internet/impersonal interaction, I have also challenged myself to write one poem every day. Some of these I translate into Spanish, too. I've been having a hard time coming up with titles, so I just call them "Today #___" So far, I'm up to "Today #7."

Today #2

In my small apartment
I set two chairs at
the kitchen table. I
thought that one looked
too lonely. So now
there are two chairs:
one for me
and
one for my loneliness.

Hoy #2

En mi pequeno apartamento
Puse dos sillas
a la mesa. Pense
que tener solo una
parece solitario.
Pues ahora hay dos sillas:
una para mi
y
una para mi soledad.

Year 1, Quarter 2: BRING. IT.

2012-01-05T21:39:00.000-08:00

So...Yours Truly is taking 17 credits this quarter!!! And all 17 of those are guaranteed to make me look/sound smarter. Yeeeeah. All of my sociologists would be proud to know that I am taking Sociology of Education, Education for Liberation and Postmodern Analysis of Qualitative Research. Oh, and a special class called, "Drinking Through the Pain."

My apologies for the resolutions-related suspense, I have so much to tell you!
First, the December challenge has become the "I swear to god this shit starts tomorrow challenge." No, really, tomorrow! I promise! And, I guess you could say the push-ups got easier...BECAUSE I DIDN'T DO THEM! HA!

I made a list of immediate resolutions:
1) Shower
2) Clean out the closet
3) Buy groceries

I am pleased to announce that I have kept all of those.

I also made a list of resolutions that will either take me the full year to complete, or are something that I should think about for at least the rest of the year. I made the mistake of leaving the list on my parents' dining room table, so a couple of family members added to it. I'll let you surmise which ones those are (HINT: 6 and 7).
1) Do pull-up(s)
2) Ride bicycle in Seattle
3) Volunteer somewhere
4) Run a marathon (I'm thinking about Newport in June if anyone wants to join me/cheer for me/drink beer afterwards with me)
5) Visit the east coast
6) Call mom every two days
7) Read the bible.
8) Be good to myself/make decisions that are in my best interest.
9) Be balanced. Be centered. Be tranquil. Be calm.
10) Date a professional athlete. (But I'll settle for a Mariner or a Seahawk. HA!)

I wish all of you the very, very best in this year. Holler at your girl.

It's resolution time, y'all!

2011-12-21T13:40:00.000-08:00

Last year I wrote down my resolutions on the back of a receipt in a bar in Astoria, Oregon. I also wrote them in Spanish, in case they were discovered by anyone. Unfortunately, I lost them, so they can't even be discovered by me. I'm sure someone else has discovered them and probably speaks enough Spanish to understand things like "tomar mas agua." I can only remember four:

1) The afore-mentioned "drink more water"
2) Eat less sugar
3) Tell him the truth (ooohhhh...I'm so cryptic and mysterious!)
4) Leave Eugene

I have done three of those things, with variable effect on my health and well-being. I'm sure the other things were either really vague ('get in shape') or totally unreasonable ('learn a new language').

Last year was not the best, and I am trying to think deeply about what I can do to be happier. A few months ago, a very wise friend of mine, Big Gay Dave, wrote on his Facebook wall, "I don't invest much time or energy into the emotion disappointment." I seem to invest an assload of time into that emotion, and I asked him for his secret. He responded: "this is the sister-thought of, I am responsible for my own happiness." So how do I this? Thoughts, Dear Readers?

One quarter down, eleven to go!

2011-12-09T13:16:00.000-08:00

In addition to a wicked eyelid twitch brought on my finals week-related stress, the sleep deprivation also brought me such joy as shutting my own finger in a drawer and mistaking the alarm clock for a fire alarm. But don't worry, upon waking up to what I thought was a fire alarm, I did not move. I just laid there wondering where the fire alarm was located (not, "I wonder if there's a fire" or "maybe I should move"). Speaking of fire alarms, yesterday on campus there was some sort of alarm issued that emptied all of the buildings on campus into the main square. I have never seen so many people wearing black in one place at one time. No one knew why the alarm was sounding or why we couldn't be in buildings, but I don't think I was the only one that thought that in case of some sort of emergency or disaster, standing in a group with a thousand undergrads was NOT where I wanted to be. So I walked across the street and pretended like I was waiting for the bus.

Workout regimen update: I am only one day behind in my December challenge, and the push ups are still the hardest fucking thing in the world. But I guess they should be. Doing push ups feels like trying to jump everywhere instead of walk. Man, fuck gravity.

Today is Friday, and I'm headed to happy hour and this genius place with a group of lady friends:

My mission, should I choose to accept it (I do), is to see how many $5 margaritas I can drink between 5pm and 6pm. I'm sure only good things can come from this.

Over and out, good buddies.

Workout blog!

2011-12-04T15:53:00.000-08:00

A friend of mine posted the following workout on her Facebook page, and declared it the December Challenge. You're supposed to do this every day this month:
50 crunches
25 leg lifts
50 bicycles
25 squats
15 sumo squats
50 calf raises
100 arm circles
15 push ups
50 jumping jacks
1 min plank

So far, I'm four for four, but I'm a little concerned what 50 calf raises a day is going to do to my delicate and lady-like calves. Mostly, anything that can make me do 15 push ups a day is a miracle. I like this work out because it takes about ten minutes, and I can do it in my underwear from the comfort of my living room while watching football/Weeds/the League/Walking Dead reruns.

Since I'm apparently posting about annoying healthy things, the following recipe is BOMB DOT COM:

http://haveyourcakeandeatittooblog.com/2011/11/10/black-bean-and-lentil-soup/

I store my red lentils in this jar so that if anyone burglarizes my home, they won't steal them:

Week 8: Not so great.

2011-11-21T13:46:00.001-08:00

I shouldn't joke about laying on the couch all day. In a stunning display of karmic retribution, I got my comeuppance for making a flippant comment about it. Yesterday, I buried myself in my comforter and pillows and cried until I fell asleep. During the day. The downfall of being a graduate student is having enough time for such foolishness. Most of the time I am thrilled to be living in a cool new city, in my cool new neighborhood, doing cool new things, and then other times (like yesterday), I am absolutely debilitated by the realization that I am alone. It sucks. Remember when there was all this talk about the importance of having 12 meaningful touches during the day in order to be healthy? I'm not even close to 12. In fact, breaking single digits would mean that I had probably been involved in some sort of drug-induced orgy.

And remember how I was bitching about my neighbor's loud singing? Worse than the singing is listening to how goddamn happy she and her boyfriend are. Never yelling, never arguing, always laughing, always cooking, always listening to music together...I fear I'm becoming the auditory version of a voyeur: I strain to hear the sounds of their pedestrian happiness (no, RaRa, that is not a euphemism).

However, my malaise is well-timed: it's Thanksgiving, y'all! (Or, as someone keenly pointed out in one of my classes, her First Nation family calls it Thankstaking.) Regardless, I'm suiting up to eat through the pain. And when I'm done eating through the pain, I'm going to drink B- and watch football through the pain. And then eat through the pain some more.

Not sure where to start...

2011-11-17T12:58:00.000-08:00

I apologize for the delay. I've been busy laying on my couch.

Last week I celebrated my 29th year on this planet, which was perfectly lovely. I got to Skype with some lovely ladies, I got the care package of a lifetime (TWO koozies, a hip flask, kleenex, USED chapstick, Safeway brand Oreos...AMAZING), I got to go to class (WOOOOHOOO!), Cellar Rat came to visit and we ate/drank our way through Pike's Place and Belltown...I partied with some Chileans, my parents sent me money, my lil brudr texted me at 12:01am exactly to wish me happy birfday. And all of my eleventy billion facebook friends hollered at me. In sum, I felt so loved. Which I think is what birthdays are for. I fully intend to celebrate for 29 days (one day for each year) which means I have some time left...

Then it was back to the grind...which is where I am now. Right now I'm reading something titled, "Feminist Standpoint versus Spontaneous Feminist Empiricist Epistemologies." It's a tough read cuz I don't know what any of those words mean.

Did any of you bet on the Alabama v. LSU game?

2011-11-08T21:12:00.000-08:00

No? Really? Not the betting type? Too tough of a game to call? Shame on you for not having the internal fortitude required for gambling on a college football game!

Well, this weekend I met two people who were strong enough to bet on the game. So strong were they in their convictions that they had committed themselves to the ultimate wager: pissing themselves if the team they chose lost.

Saturday evening, after a grueling defensive battle, someone named Jay, who hails from southern Texas, pissed himself.

What week is this? 6? I dunno.

2011-11-03T20:58:00.000-07:00

Good evening, you troglodytes! Salutations from the land of eight Thai restaurants on every city block and vitamin D deficiency. This morning at the bus stop I was greeted by what had to be a huge bummer:

Not only did someone start their day by getting pulled over by what I assume is the ONLY POLICE OFFICER WHO GIVES A SHIT ABOUT TRAFFIC VIOLATIONS, they had to get pulled over at a bus stop where there were a half dozen gloomy faced bus riders standing there and watching. Imagine getting a ticket and looking up and seeing a small crowd of people staring at you with a look on their face that says, "See, this is why you should ride the bus." Damn.

But my day was fine. As predicted, I kicked my stats midterm's rear! What was my reward? READING ALL DAY! Grad school is awesome, don't let anyone tell you otherwise.

The 29th anniversary of my arrival into this bleak universe looms just one week away. I'm pretty stoked because a)it ain't 30 and b)IT'S A PRIME NUMBER!!!! GANGSTA!!!!

Ok, side note: has anyone seen the Ben Stiller and LT commercial for Sports Center? Here's why it sucks: LT sucks (sorry, honey!), and I have him on my fantasy team, so a commercial featuring him giving fantasy football advice is slightly ironic. Here's why it's awesome: LT tells Ben Stiller that he has Aaron Rodgers as QB on his fantasy team. Who has two thumbs and Aaron Rodgers on their fantasy team? THIS GIRL! It's especially significant given that Aaron Rodgers would also make my fantasy fantasy squad, if you know what I mean.

Hold. The. Phones.

2011-11-01T19:00:00.000-07:00

Remember when I thought Pit Bull and Bud Light were twin angels miraculously conceived to make my life happier? I overlooked this: Giants pitcher, Brian Wilson and TACO BELL.

For the record, that particular image was saved on my computer with the file name, "My boyfriend." I'm not pathetic, I promise.

So what's new with all of you? I'm supposed to be reading right now, kind of like I was supposed to be reading all day, but it just didn't happen. Weird. And now that there are back to back episodes of 30 Rock on, I just don't see anything happening for the next 56 minutes. But after that....look out!

It was a gorgeous day in the land of mildew and horrible NFL teams (no, not Miami), a gorgeous day for kicking the crap out of my stats midterm this morning. I fought the urge to yell "GANGSTA!" when I handed it in.

Heads up: an un-funny post

2011-10-29T13:38:00.000-07:00

Not so much has changed after all. My dad scrambles stiffly down the thin path to the water; hunting for agates. My mom waits at a safe distance, worried not that she would fall, but that one of us would. I pull off my shoes and socks and scramble after him, never one to be left behind. My instep recoils on the rocky beach, my toes turn red in the cold water. We wave at mom, look at the sea, look at each other and back at the sea, neither of us sure how old we really are on this cool, autumn day.

Year 1, Week 5: It's raining. Shocker.

2011-10-28T15:22:00.001-07:00

Good afternoon, you reprobates! I greet you from the rainy city of Nirvana and Doc Martens where I have discovered that just as there are those trying to bring back grunge, there are those trying to bring back ROLLER BLADING. (Stink, you may need to pack yours when you visit). And these folks are not roller blading ironically, they are doing it seriously, smoothly, effortlessly, and last but not least, FUCKING RIDICULOUSLY. Men and women alike, young and old. This abomination of wheeled locomotion extends to many demographics. But I digress...

I don't have any specific theme or announcement for today's post. But I do have this modern marvel of pop culture and advertising, the world's most beautiful twins separated at birth:

Pit Bull + Bud Light = My own version of heaven. I could not be happier. The two things in life that ostensibly give me more joy than anything else. Well, that's hyperbole, but you get what I'm saying.

Lately I have been seeing lots of nasty things going on with ladies' hair. Gross weaves (girl in stats class who smells like a hangover), gross bumpits (girl on the bus who pulled her sleeve over her hand to hold onto the handle...yeah, lady, cuz you're A LOT cleaner than the rest of us). The trick is to capture these on film without being a complete a**hole. Perhaps I need my own bumpit that I could hide a camera in.

And a moment of unabashed pride: I AM IN FIRST PLACE IN MY FANTASY FOOTBALL LEAGUE. I wouldn't be so absolutely thrilled about this, except for the number of male misogynists who are also in the league. There are at least four of them (no Big Easy, not you). And I am beating all of them. And everyone else for that matter! I fear my reign will come to an end with week 9, but whatever, I'm amazing and so is Fast Freddie Jackson.

Year 1, Week 4, Thursday: Not for the faint of heart

2011-10-20T14:01:00.001-07:00

It's all fun and games until somebody stubs a toe! And this was on the way to stats class, where I stubbed my brain on the concept of n-1. I'm not sure which hurts more.

It is a gray, rainy Thursday here in the land of professional sports teams that suck but are just so darn cute (I'm talking to you, Ackley). My neighbors continue uninterrupted in their oblivion. I'm actually starting to wonder if they even know that they have a neighbor. Or, as a friend pointed out, they might just not be as quiet and considerate as I am. A well-honed skill developed after a decade of roommates. Several of you can attest to my less-considerate moments (you know who you are, and I am sorry), but I think I'm entering that phase of my life where I'm going to look up knitting patterns on the internet while you young'uns turn your music up really loud.

And in a brilliant "thanks, mom, for reminding me how old and unsuccessful at relationships I am" moment, my dear mother left a message about how she saw my ex at the pancake restaurant with a "beautiful woman and a shiny wedding band on his finger." Um, mom, he was an asshole, remember? But thanks for the reminder that assholes can get married and I cannot. Cheers.

So I'm off to do some reading. Thanks to the reader that chimed in with the costume suggestion of the Pioneer Mother. I think that depending on the weather, I will reprise my kentucky derby outfit and make Mary dress like Richard Gere, or I will wear my coveralls and ask people if they want me to look under their hood. Oh man, I just creeped myself out!

Year 1, Week 4, blah blah.

2011-10-18T15:11:00.000-07:00

Good afternoon, diligent blog followers. Today I have only a report on my neighbor's singing. She appears to be TOTALLY oblivious to the fact that her front door is two inches from my front door and that our apartments share a wall. I can hear very mundane, ordinary things like talking, sneezing, coffee grinding, and I assume that they can hear the same. Which is why (for decency's sake)I close my living room door when watching CSI: Miami. Anyway, apparently Tuesday at noon is singing time, and today was Fleetwood Mac "Dreams" Day. It was an inspired rendition, and I can only hope that my dear neighbor stumbles upon this blog when she googles something like "Ballard" and "balloon" and discovers that anyone with the Internet can read about her singing. Which is not bad, per se, it is just loud, and if you're going to sing that loudly, you may as well just ask if you can come and sing in my apartment. That is all.

Two more things: one, I need help with a costume idea for an MBA costume/mixer/dance party that I will be attending on Friday. Two, a picture of my stately, plastic crown:

This post speaks for itself.

2011-10-13T23:38:00.000-07:00

Year 1, Week 3, Day 2: Hey Y'all!

2011-10-11T13:05:00.000-07:00

Today's post is a special shout out to anyone that I know who hails from the south. As I'm walking across campus this morning in my oh-so-trendy little faux-leather jacket, skinny jeans, v-neck and flats, I reach into the pocket of said jacket which I haven't worn for a couple of years to discover.....A PAULA DEEN KOOZIE!!! Nothing says "I'm a PhD student on my way to stats class" like pulling a bright green koozie out of your pocket at 9:30am. Also, the above detail surrounding my wardrobe is only important because approximately two hours after the koozie discovery I'm headed back to the bus stop in a torrential downpour. My cute outfit was not water-resistant and the weather here is decidedly indecisive. Enough about my wardrobe, I'm going to puke.

What else do I got for you today...let's see. A lot of my adventures occur on the bus. The other day I made the mistake of talking to a woman, Barbara, at the bus stop. Barbara then wanted to sit next to me (and sort of on me) for the rest of the bus ride. She then proceeded to rant about her bout with pancreatic cancer, how spicy food causes high blood pressure, how immigrants are stealing our jobs, how doctors are evil...She smelled like beer and urine. But I picked up what is now my favorite phrase EVER: "Bullshit that shit." This is apparently what she tells her doctor when he gives her advice (which is no doubt related to the whole urine/beer situation).

School is good. Seattle is good. The Seahawks are not good, but they did defy odds and win over the NY Giants last weekend which somehow justified a full 4.5 pages in the sports section. If the Seahawks are to the NFL what the Beavers are to the Pac-12, then here's an analogy for all of you gearing up for the SATs...

Losing to the Beavers: Firing Stoops as Losing to the Seahawks: Firing Coughlin. Just a thought.

Here's the offending koozie and the view from my window:

Year 1, Week 2, Day 2: Bear Snatch

2011-10-04T13:19:00.001-07:00

Good afternoon, my dear readers. I have an odd assortment of thoughts and observations to enlighten you with today.

1) You may have noticed that there was not posting for Year 1, Week 2, Day 1. That is because I'm a grad student and I don't give a sh**.

2) My favorite reader, Ndamukong, asked about my World Series predictions. Many people seem inclined towards the Phillies. That's a safe bet. But what would be more rad would be the Detroit Tigers, so that Doug Fister in all of his pitching glory could be in the national spotlight. For obvious reasons.

3) Urban observation du jour (aka, crazy shit I see on the bus): Every time I take the bus from my neighborhood to downtown there are either people that are visible drunk or visibly drinking. Every time. Giving new meaning to the term "party bus."

4) Undergrad observation du hour (aka, crazy shit I observe the undergrads doing): Dear scantily clad women- We are in Seattle. You are dressed like you are in Barbados. This leads me to wonder what you wear when it is ACTUALLY WARM outside. Jesus, ladies.

5) Today whilst attempting to send an email to someone instead of typing "theirname@blah.com" I typed "their name at blah dot com" without realizing it. WEIRD.

6) I was dismayed to find that my stats class may just be the Navy Seals training of my program. Take every concept I've learned previously in statistics, and now call it something else. Take data for example. We don't call that data, we call it the 'score.' Which is especially rad when your 'score' involves scores. SHOOT ME. And I bet you thought that the population was the set of individuals of interest in a particular study. WRONG. KILL YOURSELF. The population is the 'score' (data) that you would like to generalize from a group of subjects. You know how some things make more sense when you're drunk? Like driving? This might be one of those things.

7) I was joking about the plug for drunk driving.

8) Here is a picture of my favorite flavor of granny soda: Pamplemousse. That's French for "I'm better than you."

Year 1, Day 2: Destitution and the Playoffs

2011-09-30T13:20:00.000-07:00

Hello! It is I, Yours Truly, back for another installment. Turns out that being a grad student is conducive to things like blogging every day and sleeping more than is actually required.

Today's adventures have been tame thus far, although this afternoon I shall venture to Tacoma to meet my brother and maybe get shot (not by my brother).

I had a great class this morning, but at some point in the two and a half hours of educational inquiry my attention span gave out and I resorted to one of my favorite past times: making up palindromes. Anyway, on my first attempt I got really close with:

set tall lattes

My next attempt was better:

a mall llama

Some of you tax payers out there may be a little upset that your tax dollars (i.e., my student loans) are paying for me to sit around and think of palindromes. Fear not! I also sit around and speculate about who is going to win the World Series!

But to reassure you of the necessity that I further my education, I managed to squish my own hand in the drivers side window of my car yesterday. A stunning intellect, I know.

Year 1, Day 1

2011-09-29T20:45:00.001-07:00

Please do not confuse this blog with a mommy blog (with all due respect to mommy bloggers) given the title. This is not a posting about the first day of my child's first year. Rather, it is a brief account of my first day of my first year in a PhD program. You can also expect rather regular updates about what it is like to live in Ballard, Seattle, where the hipsters and the old-school Scandinavians compete for who can have the most bars/tattoos.

So far I have yet to walk from my apartment to the bus stop or from the bus stop to my apartment without being told by someone drunk on the street that they love me. I'm not joking. I shall try and photograph this the next time it happens.

I don't know any of my neighbors except this woman, Georgia, and her cat, Cosette. I speak French with Cosette and with Georgia I speak a Creole blend of "oh dear God please stop talking to me" and "I don't want to piss you off in the event that sometime in the future I lock myself out of the building."

To my loyal readers, thank you for your patience. For those who thought this was a blog about babies, barf or balloons, you will be disappointed in my coverage of two out of three of those topics.

Stay tuned for Year 1, Day 2, where I will cover my favorite subject: how many cans of black beans can I eat before my student loans come through.

The Chronicles of Rental Carnia

2011-04-04T21:01:00.000-07:00

I was reduced to writing on paper. With a pen. What you're reading here was first written BY HAND. OMG. I was in Seattle for a few days visiting the University of Washington and here are some of my musings/observations/mishaps.

Thursday

I rented a Chrysler Sebring for the journey which aged me about 30 years, but I'm still hot, don't worry. Like Glenn Close or Meryl Streep maybe.

I found my friend's kick-ass house that looks like an IKEA ad and kind of creepily reminds me of one of those new-age homes that rich housewives get murdered in.

I took the bus to campus and in an attempt to look confident I got off the bus and started walking even though I had no idea where I was going. Evidently I was following my heart because I actually headed away from campus and to the cool street every campus has that is lined with shops, cafes, pubs, etc. I righted my course and headed to the building I was supposed to be in. My fear of being either over or under-dressed was assuaged when the woman to my right looked like an un-showered REI ad and some guy across the table was wearing cuff links.

I talked to my future advisor who likened a PhD program to an endurance event, which is great, except hopefully without the crapping/peeing myself part.

Friday

I am now in what I assume is a very typical Seattle coffee shop where the baristas are prolly the coolest people on earth which I know because they mumble and play songs like "Put your Ass into it" which is only an acceptable song when it is NOT played for irony's sake . Like when you actually want someone to put their ass into it.

Also, it wouldn't be a trip to Seattle without drenching rain. The rain doesn't seem to slow folks down and the main affect on fashion seems to be that the undergrads wear their RIDICULOUS leggings with rain boots instead of Ugh boots.

Also, for those that compare Portland and Seattle: a glimpse into your meaningfully yet casually tattooed future: the weekly paper in Seattle advertises shops that REMOVE and LIGHTEN tattoos, featuring a photo of a delightfully dismayed looking hipster. Ha.

Bracket Bitch!

2011-03-17T17:01:00.000-07:00

This is my 60th (worthless) blog post! I guess I haven't been writing as much lately, which you can blame on my new career as.....wait for it....NCAA March Madness Bracket Manager! Turns out anyone can manage a bracket. All you has to do is email your friends and then harass them until they each cough up $5.

Actually, mostly I don't blog because I'm sad and nobody likes to read about someone being sad. But if you are sad, you should listen to this:

Anyway, back to the basketball business. I know nothing about basketball, but it has been fun reinventing myself as a sports enthusiast. The kind that picks teams like Morehead because, well, it should be obvious. If it's not, I'll tell you when you're older.

Motorcycles

2011-03-08T21:47:00.000-08:00

The proximity of my bedroom to the bathroom shared with my roommate is, well, close. One might even use the word 'adjacent.' So close that he recently left the bathroom and stopped at my door to ask if I had "heard the Harley." Shudder.

Easy choice.

2011-03-08T11:53:00.000-08:00

Ah, I notice that on your Facebook status update you are defending a congressional candidate who openly criticized public school teachers and called for the abolishing of public education. I shall now un-friend you. That was easy.

Diagnosis

2011-03-06T22:02:00.000-08:00

I can't speak. Which means I either have laryngitis OR one of you is exceptionally skilled with the voodoo doll. These are the only explanations I can think of. I have already ruled out heavy smoking and free-basing as I usually save those activities for the summer months. Also, many of you may not know this, but one of the lesser-known (and incredibly embarrassing) symptoms of laryngitis is crying like a baby during a community college jazz choir's a capella rendition of Billy Joel's "So it goes." Another symptom is making others uncomfortable with my silence. "Are you mad at me?" Silence. "Are we fighting?" Silence. "Paper or plastic?" Silence. Stay tuned for tomorrow's series of whiny posts as I plan to stay home and record my misery in a special stream of consciousness blog.

How to eat all of your calories in one meal

2011-02-27T19:21:00.000-08:00

The Crunch Wrap Supreme is on sale for 88 cents this week at Taco Bell. There is a limit of two per person. Which at 580 calories a pop, two of those bad boys will take care of your caloric intake for the day. Yippee!

Break out the Ugg boots.

2011-02-24T10:10:00.000-08:00

It's snowing here in beautiful New Hampshire! Or northern Utah! Or Montana! I mean, Michigan! That's right, you don't know where I live, which means you can't fire me for my blog that upon review if FULL of things that can get me fired. Woops. Anyway, suffice it to say that I'm home and really, really, really bored. So I'm blogging. And thinking about doing all sorts of fun things like cleaning the bathroom, doing laundry, fucking with my roommate's stuff while he's at work, and training the dog to do a special kind of bark any time a hot guy walks past.

Last night I inadvertently came up with a new life motto that applies to just about everything except sexual harassment: I'm accepted until I'm rejected. Which is how I'm approaching the whole waiting to get into grad school thing. So according to my new motto, I've been accepted at two great institutions of higher learning. Until of course, I'm rejected. At which point I will make a new blog will be about the funny things that happen while making porn instead of the funny things that happen while teaching. Don't be jealous.

Serious, then not serious, then serious again.

2011-02-14T21:47:00.001-08:00

Serious: I am really going to need the mothers of my female teenage students to stop doing things like inculcating them with the idea that at 15 YEARS OF AGE they should drink water when they're hungry so they won't want to eat.

Not serious: I got a Valentine from a student that said "Dear Ms. __________, Best Wishes." Uhhhh...thank you?

Serious: The only thing better than pouring down rain at 9pm? Being locked out of your car in said pouring down rain at 9pm. It was like a Valentine to myself: "Roses are red, violets are blue, this weather f**king sucks and so do you."

An afternoon at the ballet.

2011-02-13T19:30:00.000-08:00

I went today to the ballet with my mom and my 5-year old niece. The ballet had just begun and several dancers in their special skin-colored leotards were dancing around, as usually happens at the ballet, and my GENIUS niece waited until an appropriately quiet point in the music to declare, "THEY'RE NAKED, RIGHT?" "No, they just look like they're naked." "NO, THEY'RE NAKED." Ok, fine. They're naked. Think about how much more interesting the ballet would be if everyone was naked. I think a number of things would make the ballet more interesting: booze, fireworks, clowns, rock music...which is to say, everything that isn't the ballet is infinitely more interesting than ballet itself.

Wow, I have no idea where this hatred for ballet came from.

You like to dress how?

2011-02-07T16:44:00.000-08:00

Somehow today the topic of clothing came up with my second graders. We are doing a highly technical experiment about water evaporation that involves setting cups of water in the window and checking how much water evaporates every day. It is thrilling. Today we decided to write down what day we thought the water would be completely evaporated on. One little girl asked what the prize was if her day was right, and I said I didn't know so she suggested "nice clothes." A little boy in the class didn't like that response and said that "some boys don't like nice clothes." Ah, yes, the familiar face of gender norms. Anyway...after addressing that issue, another child pipes in with, "I like to wear n***** clothes!" I'm not quite sure what face I made...but I told him that we couldn't say that word and that he needed to use a different word: "Uhhh...I like hip-hop clothes?" Sure.

To do list:

2011-02-06T10:01:00.001-08:00

1) Stop listening to this on repeat.
2) Go running.
3) Go to Goodwill to buy hard hat.
4) Watch Superbowl wearing aforementioned hard hat.
5) Rue the end of the weekend.

Speaking of YouTube, I think that I've made my internet video debut in the form a cellphone-recorded fight in the high school cafeteria that I broke up on Thursday. That was not pleasant. I then proceeded to be at work until 8pm, come home and overflow the toilet while a livingroom full of guests laughed and said things like, "way to go." I'm kidding about the unhelpful guests, one guest in particular stepped up to the plate and waded through my poop water to help plunge. It was a spectacular day. Things improved greatly with an episode of Jersey Shore and a Blizzard from Dairy Queen.

Yep.

2011-02-05T17:21:00.000-08:00

I was dazzled by the following drunkenly delivered pickup line last night:

Me: "Hi, I'm ______________."
Drunk dude: Long pause with lingering clammy handshake and stupid smile: "Have you met Miss Amazing?"
Me: "Uhhhh....no."
Drunk dude: 'Cuz I just did.

Wow. There are not enough words to express how UNimpressed I was.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

2011-01-25T17:11:00.001-08:00

What was I thinking? Repeat after me: Never, ever, ever, even if you think it is a really good idea should you check the Facebook pages of your high school students. Such an act will result in nothing good. All it will result in is realizing that your really wonderful students are actually teenage douchebags and while they might not call things 'gay' and 'retarded' and refer to women as 'bitches' in front of you in your classroom, they most certainly do so on the internet. Disappointment might be a good word for what I'm feeling right now. Also, how can a generation so supposedly tech-savvy be so stupid as to not set their shit to private? GAHHHH. I should seriously consider lowering my expectations.

Seriously.

2011-01-23T21:21:00.000-08:00

I traveled by train yesterday and began the two hour sojourn overhearing the woman to my left talking on the phone describing to a friend how she almost wasn't able to come and visit her this weekend. It turns out that a friend of hers, we'll call him Tony, was in the ICU after being found floating in a hot tub. What's more, he had apparently lost control of his bowels/bladder and in addition to having hot tub water pumped from his lungs, he had his own waste pumped from his lungs, which must be a real treat. If that ever happens to me, I don't want to know about it. She went on to say that he was fine, but that the doctors say that he might not ever be the same. Shocker. He was able to name his cats and knew where he was and who his children were....WAIT A SECOND! This man has children? Probably not for long. Anyway, that was how the train ride began. I mostly just kept to myself and breathed through my mouth so as not not smell the chewing tobacco/armpits of the gentleman in front of me. Grooooossss.

Six degrees of hilarity.

2011-01-22T08:31:00.000-08:00

Some of you may have noticed that on Thursday in honor of the 50th anniversary of the swearing in of JFK, Jr. that Google.com changed their logo to include an image of JFK, Jr. created from various words associated with his legacy. For myself and everyone else who saw it, it was clear who it was. EXCEPT....one of my sixth grade students who saw it and said, "Hey, I know who that is! That's that one guy...um, you know...that famous guy....IT'S KEVIN BACON!"

In less hilarious news (my blog has now become my therapist's couch), my 38-year old classroom assistant was castigating me the other day for not being settled down with children. She pointed out that at when she was my age (28 tender years), she already had a child in the middle school. WOW, REALLY? Shoot, I knew I forgot to do something.

Fill in the blank.

2011-01-19T16:57:00.001-08:00

A middle school student was working on a preposition worksheet today and had a list of prepositional phrases with which to complete sentences such as:

"The man ________________________ gave me an ice cream bar."

There were several choices, such as: down the hill, across the street, behind the counter, and under the bridge.

I bet you see where I'm going with this.

Spanglish

2011-01-18T18:02:00.000-08:00

I assigned my high school students the task of writing a short skit using a few phrases we had been working on. The only other two requirements was that it be appropriate and at least 50% English. Here's an excerpt:

Narrator: Una nina rica y rebelde, that with the bad influence of her best friend, hace que su papa termine en la ruina. Candy y Estrellita are best friends, y un dia, la mala influencia de Estrellita quizo dominar a su amiga Candy.

Estrellita: Amiga, vamonos de reventon a otra house.
Candy: No, its too late already, lets go home.
Estrellita: No seas partypooper, OH I have a medicine, so your parents can go to sleep easily and they wont get mad at you for leaving with me to a party.

Somehow drugging your parents so you can to a party made the cut for "appropriate." However, it appears that the Spanish to English ratio is a little more like 70:30.

Happy MLK Jr. Day

2011-01-17T11:22:00.001-08:00

Did I wear my Ugg boots to Taco Bell at 10:30am and break a $100 bill to buy breakfast for my roommates? Yes, yes I did. Did I proceed to eat said Taco Bell treats while watching Jersey Shore re-runs? Affirmative.

Don't be jealous.

I see jail time in your future.

2011-01-16T17:27:00.000-08:00

The cosmos have been surrounding me with police officers and arrests (not my own) these days. On Wednesday while at ________'s (a favorite watering hole), the man to my right was arrested for having a pound of marijuana in his car which apparently was more than his medical card provided for. Another man to my left was also arrested for what I assume was general degeneracy. He thought it was prudent to loudly declare things like "Man, I hate bitch cops" while man #1 was being handcuffed by said bitch cop. I think the two women fighting in the parking lot were also arrested. Big night at ________'s.

Then, on Friday I was running to the top of a local butte and saw a police officer speaking with the occupants of a vehicle who had apparently decided that their half-finished bottles of booze/beer should be left on the hood of their car. I assume that the police officer disagreed and I can't imagine that went well.

Holiday

2011-01-15T09:34:00.000-08:00

The high school secretary listed Monday as "Martin Luther Day," much to the delight of Protestants everywhere and possibly also my high school history teacher.

I am currently lying in bed marveling in the fact that I don't actually have to get out of it. I am sure that at any moment one of my delightful roommates will knock gently on the door and bring in a cup of coffee, two eggs over medium, potatoes, sourdough toast with strawberry jam and a cup of pineapple juice. Make it happen, a-holes, Mama's hungry.

Cereal

2011-01-12T16:53:00.000-08:00

Work is hard. My students (while terrific) do things like get pregnant, drop out, and get arrested. I understand why/how these things happen, but at the end of the day it makes me do things like cry in my car and eat lots of bowls of cereal when I get home from work.

Another reason work is hard is that there is a secretary who is extremely difficult to deal with, witness the following exchange:

Me (seconds before bell rings to start class, madly running to get some necessary forms out of my box and finding my box empty): "The necessary forms aren't in my box."

Maddening secretary: "Well, I put them there."

Me: Silence

FIN.

It appears we have reached an impasse. That's French for "I am thinking very detailed thoughts about how I'm going to vandalize your car."

Infinite cool

2011-01-09T09:58:00.000-08:00

I got me one of them smart phones. I don't know how to use it.

You can Semper Fi my fist

2011-01-07T18:54:00.000-08:00

In perhaps my most brazen move ever, I have decided to kill the Marine Corps. You may be thinking, "Girl, you're crazy. You can't kill a branch of the armed forces!" This is where you're wrong. I formerly had no beef with the Marines that I didn't have with any group of similarly dressed people marching in unison carrying weapons, but today the Marines went too far. A member of the Marines who happens to have nothing better to do when he is not defending my freedom than to lead high schoolers in jumping jacks during PE class in RuralTown, USA where I work told one of my students that he didn't need to finish high school, that he could join the Marines after finishing his junior year. Oh, I get it, you want to lure students who have otherwise limited post-high school opportunities to their deaths sooner rather than later.

And now a special note to whatever flunky has been assigned the task of monitoring my blog because I threatened the Marine Corps: you should get a new job.

Day 11

2010-07-02T14:23:00.000-07:00

An update on Tour de West Coast, posted by Yours Truly, the girl with the largest thighs on the west coast.

Today is a much-needed rest day, we are in Crescent City (gross) and headed for Arcada. The ride has been amazing thus far and I am truly enjoying all of it, even the crappy parts, like my butt rash, or hills that climb for miles and miles and miles and miles. I've seen amazing views and met some great people (except for the guy to my right in the public library who is at this moment threatening to murder people).

Overheard last night in the bar of an awesome Mexican restaurant:

Drunk 1: I graduated from Penn State.
Drunk 2: Penn State, where's that? Kentucky?
Drunk 1: Yeah, Pennsyltucky.

Day Zero

2010-06-17T23:08:00.000-07:00

Today begins the incredible journey of the White Lily (my bike) and Sea Biscuit (Sancho's bike) on a month-long journey of death-defying bike riding. I would tell you more details but I don't want the paparazzi to follow us and then cause a crash in the tunnel that kills me but not my media-mogul boyfriend who it turns out is not actually that attractive.

So Day Zero goes like this: Day Zero was spent enduring SOMEONE'S bad mood, driving to the launch point and eating nachos while listening to the religious/artillery-related zeal of my brother. Also today, there was a blessing of bikes, the bike trailers, the bike riders and two dogs that happened to get in the way.

Tomorrow is Day One, a.k.a, the day I stop shaving my armpits and start replacing meals with Cliff bars.

Over and out.

Catch up time

2010-06-06T21:08:00.000-07:00

Things I am counting down:
4.5 days of school left
8 days until I leave to accomplish on bicycle what most people accomplish in car/plane: tour de west coast!
3 minutes until I open my next beer
7 episodes left in Season 4 of Da Wire, BEST SHOW EVER

Things I am jazzed about:
Aforementioned bike trip
Aforementioned beer
I got a paycheck in the mail that I didn't think I was going to get

Things I am less jazzed about:
Online dating
My bedroom windows don't open
Tomorrow is Monday

Two things

2010-05-20T20:09:00.000-07:00

1) Overheard at Target:

Girl 1: "Did you know that Nikki bought running shorts just so she could look like she went running?
Girl 2: "Nikki has a great body, its kind of annoying."
Girl 1: "Yeah, but she does not have a good face."

Wow, ladies. Impressive. If there were commercials for bad friends, you would be in them.

2) Overheard at work:

The principal: "Where's your staff ID badge? You know, if you're not wearing it you have to put a quarter in my Mexican vacation fund."
Me (in reality): "Oh, right. OK, I think I have a quarter."
Me (in my mind): "Perfect, and you can put a quarter in my fund every time you make an unethical decision and then I'll be filthy rich."

In all seriousness...

2010-05-13T22:39:00.000-07:00

...I have a second grade student that is smarter than you. During homework club she was looking for something to do and I told her she could braid yarn with another student. I promised the other student that I would buy a beautiful braided yarn-bracelet from her for a quarter and without pausing FOR EVEN A SECOND my student chimed in and said "oh, then I can buy 200 with the $50 I have." Uhhhh...let me get my calculator and make sure that's right. Jesus.

Something I adore about my young students is how they don't want to say exactly what they've done when they've messed up and they also don't want to take responsibility even though it was clearly them. Instead they tend to use the world's cutest euphemism: "Uh, Ms. So-and-so,....something happened." Ahh, yes. You accidentally wrote on the white board with a permanent marker. Something has indeed happened.

I heart my job.

Today at the gym....

2010-05-12T22:26:00.000-07:00

...I projectile sweated on the trainer. Which is as close as I've come to projectile vomit, which is also a distinct possibility given the INTENSELY PAINFUL ABSURDITY of some of these workouts. But when I'm cut like Mariah Carey (post-meth addiction), I'll be thankful.

Now I'm just back at the house watching Season 2 Episode 1 of The Wire with my roommates. Watching The Wire has led to a steep decline in my grammar as well as an unexplainable desire to sell drugs and/or be sneaky. I have the distinct feeling I will never do either of these.

Things that make me want to barf:

2010-05-10T22:47:00.001-07:00

The dog biscuit I accidentally ate today because it looked EXACTLY like one of those oyster crackers you put in your soup.

This post brought to you by.... "Things that make your life seem a little better in comparison to mine."

All things barf

2010-05-06T20:08:00.000-07:00

I feel compelled because of the title of this masterpiece of modern blogature to post anytime barf is part of my day. Recently there was no actual barf, but I did receive the following text message: "something something something...let me know when you take barf of it." Uh, take barf of it? Oh, what would we do without autotext? The sender of this message, one EXTREMELY ANNOYING roommate informed me that when he types "case" or "care" it automatically spells 'barf.' In that barf, I really don't barf what he really has to say...in fact, I could barf less.

On to the most hilarious/disturbing part of my day:

One of the school buses in the paragon of public education that is the district where I work was "accidentally" crop dusted. (Point of clarification: I'm talking about real crop dusting, not the kind where someone farts on you as they walk by.) And I put "accidentally" in quotes because why would anyone crop dust something that is giant and yellow and full of children? Good Lord, people, get it together! I'm now trying to bribe other teachers to bring this up next time there is a discussion about low scores on the standardized tests.

That is all.

Q and A about my day

2010-04-27T17:16:00.000-07:00

What was the best part about your day?

Easy. Arriving to work to realize that the driver's seat was wet (long story), and therefore that the ass of my pants was also wet.

A different kind of dead

2010-04-26T18:44:00.000-07:00

I'm going to kill my roommate because he is trying to steal my blog (among other things). A list of his other recent offenses:

Indiscriminant belching
Nose hairs in the sink
Excessive drafting while on bike rides
Unnecessary references to sleeping with my mother
Friending my brother on Facebook
Not sending back Netflix movies quickly enough

That is all for now.

I like teaching and all, but.....

2010-01-04T16:40:00.000-08:00

I'd much rather be a mariachi! Back to work today and it was not as heinous as I thought it'd be. Started off by translating a couple of behavior reports that had been written in Spanish and discovered that young Antonio has an unfortunate habit of asking girls to show him their boobs. This might come in handy later in life, kid, but right now you're in the 3rd grade and you need to knock that shit off. Then it was off to a meeting where I'm not really sure what I was supposed to be doing/saying so I just kind of sat as close as I could to the giant fake plant in the corner hoping to kind of disguise myself with the foliage. Then there was a baby shower for a couple of the teachers who are having babies. Booze was an inappropriate gift choice on my end, I can see that now, but it seemed like a really good idea and/or the only thing I had on hand.

The little rascals come back to school tomorrow and I'm trying to remember how to go hours on end without saying the f word.

Oh yeah, speaking of babies: you can buy pregnancy tests at the dollar store! And guess what? My friend, Pregosaurus Rex says they work! I'm sure there is some kind of social commentary involved in the sale of pregnancy tests at a dollar store, but I'm far too tired for that right now.

Cease and desist

2009-12-23T17:16:00.000-08:00

Things happening on/in or around my house:

new roommate moving in
dog-sitting hyperactive 5 yr old boxer
fish-sitting comatose beta
fucking roofers replacing the fucking roof
whining
using of internet
not buying of christmas presents for family. woops.

A departure

2009-12-22T14:53:00.000-08:00

I'm done blogging about work, duh, its Christmas break. So instead let me update you: I'm currently losing a game of cribbage and the riding on the outcome of this game is one month of not shaving my armpits. I think this is going to do wonders for my already stellar dating record. HOWEVER....if by some miracle of unknown proportions I happen to win, then my degenerate roommate has to shave his legs every other day for a month. Either way, I'll post some pictures for your viewing (dis)pleasure.

I'm also watching my friends' beta fish,Jurgen, while they're out of town. They left me the following instructions "Don't kill Jurgen." Also, I'm not sure they were aware of how hard it is to transport a full-to-the-brim fishtank in the car. I was giving my friend, Steen, a ride home and made him come with me to get the fish. The fishwater spilled all over Steen's lap, which was awesome because when he got out of the car it looked like he had wet his pants. Super funny. Anyway, I had to drop Steen off and then proceed the rest of the way holding the fish tank still with one hand and driving with the other. I finally get home after several blocks of driving 8mph only to discover that the stupid beta food has spilled in my coat pocket . So, yeah, I might kill Jurgen.

What my neighbors think/know about me:

2009-11-15T20:39:00.000-08:00

Despite living in a duplex where two bedroom walls and one bathroom wall are shared, I hear precious little from THE OTHER SIDE (capitalized for effect). What I do hear leads me to believe that Michelle on THE OTHER SIDE shares my sense of feng shui and put her bed exactly where I put mine, but the mirror-image. What leads me to believe this? Waking up to the sound of my neighbor banging just as I've fallen into a REALLY NICE, DEEP SLEEP. Super. Anyway, I've been ruminating on what my neighbors might hear from me and what it might lead them to believe.

What my neighbor hears:
1) The sound of fingernail clippers four times a week.
2) The same CD played over and over.
3) "STUPID FUCKING KHAKIS!"
4) My alarm clock in the morning, approximately 5 times.

What my neighbor therefore believes:
1) That my fingernails grow really fast.
2) That I only have one CD and questionable taste in music.
3) That I am in a fight with a pair of pants.
4) That I am an asshole.

The veracity of their deductions:
1) Not true, I am just really anal about the length of my fingernails.
2) Sort of true, I listen to some really lame crap sometimes.
3) Yes, I hate khakis and ironing khakis and wearing khakis and I am going to murder their inventor in their sleep with my unironed khakis.
4) Also true.

You're right, 27 year olds do have good judgment

2009-11-15T20:37:00.000-08:00

Things I told people whilst celebrating my 27th birthday:

1) I am getting married tomorrow.
2) I am pregnant.
3) My name is Lynette.

Things that I took from Tiny's Tavern whilst celebrating my 27th birthday:

1) A framed picture of someone's dog.

The motherland!

2009-10-09T10:04:00.000-07:00

I have returned to the land of Busch Light and patriotic-themed lighters for my younger brother's wedding and I think that to compare my journey to the abridged version of Homer's Odyssey would be apt. The bride-to-be's dad and step-mom took us to dinner last night at the Height's Supper Club, the nicest place in town. My dad ordered a smoked pork chop the size of a car battery and I think everyone else had the chicken cordon bleu with a side of hashbrowns covered in nacho cheese sauce (delicious). After dinner I sojourned to Cedar Rapids for an evening of college football and light beer with my friends and some of their friends who have names like 'Shooter' and 'Randy' and make lots of gay jokes, which is refreshing after living in an erudite, socialist, environmentally sensitive university town for so long. Their dog Wrigley has been trained to take a dog treat out of a human mouth so a fair amount of dog-kissing went on last night as well.

My mom and I are going to get pedicures here in a second and I think I'll ask for a discount seeing as I only have 7.5 toenails to pedicure. Tonight is the rehearsal dinner, so I should probably get started on some sort of inappropriate toast to make. Later.

Quickly approaching old age

2009-10-02T18:02:00.000-07:00

I signed up for a retirement savings account today. Only 33.5 more years of teaching! Yes!

This was a good week...my only non-Latino student, a boy whose family is from Laos, brought me this SWEET cd that his older brother made. Does anyone need a copy of Laotian pop/rock? Are you sure?

My students are pretty terrific, and so is my job, despite things like coworkers assuming that a student is "a little slow" because they don't speak the English. (Voice in my head: "Hmmm...you do speak English but you're MORE than a little slow. You're FUCKING BRAINLESS.") ((Voice in my mouth: "Uhhhh...I need to go make some copies.")

I managed to get out of playing in staff-student softball game at the middle school, but I didn't totally luck out as I wound up "supervising" students. Loosely translated: find the kid yelling inappropriate things and sit by them. A good time was had by all.

In my non-teacher life, I'm off to run a marathon this weekend and hopefully beat Palin's astonishingly good time. If I can't do that, I'll settle for enjoying myself and not crapping my pants.

Was that my teacher wrestling in the front yard of that house?

2009-09-26T09:39:00.000-07:00

Yes, yes it was. I am legendary, but still honing my skills of front yard weekend wrestling. All sorts of strange things hurt today, like my ear.

Year Two, Week Three, Day Three: Take 1

2009-09-22T19:35:00.000-07:00

I have a real, honest-to-Allah classroom! I think if I make it another year in this district I met get something like a golf cart or all the chocolate milk I can drink during the month of May or something like that. Overall, I would say that the difference between my second year of teaching and my first year of teaching is the difference between having wisdom teeth removed with versus without anesthetic. More later.

I guess some sort of reflection would be appropriate

2009-06-15T17:48:00.001-07:00

My first year of teaching has officially reached an end....and guess what? Next year I get a real classroom. I guess the administrators in the district finally read Brown v. Board of Education and decided that you can't actually expect the ELL teacher to teach in a tiny, ill-equipped, broke-ass joke of a classroom. So year #2 should be a real treat...stay tuned.

Today is only day one of my summer vacation (possibly the only summer vacation that I've actually ever earned) and by 7am I was on my second cup of tea and anxiously making a list of things to keep me occupied. Yes, I am that cool.

Here's the list:

budget/pay bills
weed front beds
laundry
swim
walgreens
rearrange bedroom
call piano tuner
call recylcing service

Here's what I actually did:

found the NYT crossword puzzle and did it as fast as I could before my roommate got home
watered house plants
watered outside plants
ate an english muffin
shower #1
did laundry
juggled soccer ball in front yard
added another length of bamboo fencing between my house and MY PSYCHO NEIGHBOR's house
rearranged bedroom furniture. four times.
went running
shower #2
paid bills
went to walgreens
went to library

Which is where I am now. Don't get me wrong, I did not include this list because I think my day was so fascinating, the opposite in fact. I have absolutely no idea what I'm going to do with myself. You can only shower so many times in a day.

Oops, I forgot one thing. Pinche Guey from my soccer team called to ask where tomorrow's game was. And to ask me if I would like to be his girlfriend. I said 'no thanks', which is a step up from the last time he asked me something like that and I just laughed at him.

"You bought WHAT from your sister?"

2009-06-05T21:15:00.000-07:00

As I waited outside in the designated stand-in-line-and-wait-for-your bus area after school today, a student I didn't know walked past and I gave him my best teacher smile, just like I give everyone who is under 5'2" my best teacher smile, and then my smile quickly faded into a look like what I imagine my friend was thinking when he saw a couple openly fisting at the B2B this year. Actually, I take that back, that look was probably a little more gleeful than mine. Anyway, imagine my face contorted into a semi-controlled holy hell/REALLY?/wtf face. The student who passed me was sporting NIPPLE CLAMPS, chained to the appropriate region of his t-shirt. Do you know how many other teachers he probably walked by who by virtue of the bumfuck Norman Rockwell town I work in didn't even know what they were? Did I mention I was at the elementary school?

It gets better. Turns out he is in the 4th grade, he knows what they are and he bought them from his older sister. For a quarter.

When the things you say to students bite you in the ass

2009-05-30T08:54:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was the staff vs. students basketball game at the middle school. There is something about a white basketball jersey that just does not flatter a middle-aged teacher's body. Anyway. I was fortunate enough to beg out of participating, but I did go and watch a little. One of my students asked me why I wasn't playing and I said that I didn't know how to play basketball and he says with the most possible sincerity:

"That's OK, just try your best!"

He has a point. Dammit.

On eyeballs and other gross things:

2009-05-28T19:06:00.000-07:00

During the weekly check-in with my first and second graders about how their weekend was, 'Tavito share the following, much to the dismay/horror/fascination of the other kids:

"My uncle killed a toro....in the campo....there was blood everywhere. I saw the heart, it was big like this (makes football sized shape with his hands). I touched the eye, it was soft. Like a bed."

And that is when I peed a little in my pants I was trying so hard not to laugh.

***

It is officially the homestretch of the school year and I'm trying not to let on that I want out of my classroom more than the kids do. It occurred to me the other day as I checked my personal email for the 27th time before noon that I need more friends at work. I am kind of isolated in my position because I split my time between separate schools (and it doesn't help that said schools are in a small town in the middle of the countryside and stuck in some previous decade). However, the other side of this beautiful equation is that no one (read: authority figures/bosses) has any idea where I am. Were I of lesser moral fiber this could be deadly, but being the fine paragon of virtue that I am, I have only taken advantage of this once, and no one even noticed that I rolled in two hours late on conference day. So I told them. And they didn't care. So I left early.

Yep, I showed them.

On all things inappropriate

2009-05-13T17:30:00.000-07:00

A 5th grade student today realized the following:

"Ms. Lady, if my name is Maggie Fernandez, then my initials are inappropriate." Uhhh...can you elaborate? "You know....MF....MFer...."

Yeah, Maggie, I guess they are. And I guess it is a sweet day when a 12 year old is telling you what is and isn't appropriate.

All of this came about during a wild round of Balderdash, which is pretty much my favorite thing to do when the lesson plan ends early. I was playing a round once with my middle schoolers and a student chose the word "impala." The dictionary said only that it was an African antelope, but one of my 8th graders knew better:

"Oooohhh! I know this one, its a sweet car."

Is this what 'all staff' emails are for?

2009-05-06T17:58:00.000-07:00

"It is rumored that some kids are or are threatening to spit in the hand sanitizer we have in our rooms. I suggest that we glue the lids on as they do not need to be opened (if you have the pump variety). I also suggest that if you hear of anyone that is saying they or someone else is doing this, you send them to the office. thanks."

***

Where do I start?

1) Things that might possibly take precedence:
uh, teaching?
2) At the risk of stating the obvious: ISN'T HAND SANITIZER SUPPOSE TO SANITIZE THINGS?
3) Is this going to take the form of a staff "let's glue the lids on our hand sanitizer bottles" party? I will bring the blow.
4) The asshat that wrote this is at least twice my age, and has been teaching longer than I've been alive. I would like to hope that by the time I reach this distinguished station in life that I won't be flexible enough to get my head that far up my own butt.

A little background....

2009-04-28T19:48:00.000-07:00

I thought some context might be nice about the student who penned the letters contained in the following post. He was one of my students the very first year I was an instructional aide at a rural high school, and I would say we were equally clueless, just in different ways. Some highlights of my time working with him include:

The day he told me that I looked "kinda fat."
The first day of school his junior year when he showed up in a custom designed t-shirt that said "I love Beyonce"
The time he wrote all of the lyrics to the Beyonce song "Irreplaceable" on a chalkboard
The time an English teacher accused him of plagiarizing a narrative essay when really all he had done was written the entire plot of a telenovela and passed it off as the story of his family.
The time he hacked into the library's student database, printed about 50 enlarged copies of another student's photo and wrote "Missing!!!!" "Have you seen her?????" "Where is Leticia???" on them and posted them around the campus.

Anyway, when he asked me to write a letter to the judge at the Mexican Consulate about why he should be granted US citizenship, I was kind of at a loss, except that I can only assume that someone this savvy has great things to contribute to our great nation.

A short collection (2) of letters from a former student awaiting his papers in Mexico

2009-04-27T20:34:00.000-07:00

Letter #1

Hello, How have you been ? Well I have just been here still in Mexico just waiting to go back soon well I think before june26th hopefully. Well things are good here in Mexico except that it's really hot an people are weird. Anyways I can't wait till I go back cause I miss my mommy well in your prayers please pray so I can come back soon. Thanks O an I was also wondering if you had a myspace.???? Anyways the bottom picture is the catedral of guadalajara it really huge and nice.

Letter #2

HI
IDK WHAT I AM GOING TO DO WHEN I COME BACK I HAVE NO IDEA LOL
SO DID U EVER GET MARRIED I TAUGHT U WERE???
AND PLEASE PRAY FOR ME SO I CAN GO BACK ASAP THANKS U RULE

This has nothing to do with teaching, but....

2009-04-25T18:37:00.000-07:00

Today after helping some friends move (friends who have a lot of leisure activity-related possessions, weird) my roommate and I rode back in the now empty 17' UHaul playing probably the most bad-ass game of Paddle Koosh (America's #1 Paddle Game, c. 1997) ever. Well worth moving all of the aforementioned lesiure activity-related possessions.

Also, this will be a short post because at the coffee shop where I am shamelessly using the internet but not consuming anything purchased here, a group is setting up on stage with a sign that says "Welcome Back America" and I'm just not sure I need to stick around and find out what that is all about.

I hope it has nothing to do with the in-depth conversation at the next table about how to kill a werewolf and a vampire simulateneously with the same weapon.

Priceless.

2009-04-24T10:57:00.000-07:00

In a recent discussion of the informal versus formal language with my 5th grade ELL students, I asked them to list as many examples of each as they could in 10 minutes. This is what they came up with:

Formal

Good evning
How are you doing today?
Hi there.
Nice whether were having
Is your day going?
Nice dress.
Nice day isint it.
Excuse me
Would you like some tea
Would you like some coffee
How old are you ma'am
Yes please
Nice doing buissnes with you?
Thank you very much

Informal

What up?
Whats your name dude?
Catch you later.
Peace out
See you later brother from another mother
It's cool
What's up dude.
Whats you doing?
Dude?
What's your age dude?
You stink.

The Lineup

2009-04-14T21:50:00.000-07:00

Of the many stars that will shine on the pages of this blog (all with their names changed, duh), I feel it is best to introduce you to a few that you may be see more than others based on the frequency with which they do hilarious/poignant shit. But I guess even before that, I should introduce myself, make a blanket disclaimer statement and then get on with it already.

I teach in a rural school district in the United States, and I have the total joy of teaching grades K-12, which means that in any given day I will have to help someone very young blow their nose and then remind someone who is not so young that they should stop staring at my rack. Out of concern for my already somewhat tenuous job security and this little thing called ETHICS, I will make every effort to not reveal information about my job/students that jeapordize either. If you feel that I have, please notify my totally incompetent boss.

Onward.

Danny is 12. Somewhere in the first months of this school year I was frustrated with my class of middle-schoolers and uttered a threat that is so unoriginal I am ashamed to mention it: "If you don't stop talking some of you are going to be spending your lunch with me today." There was a pause wherein the students reevaluated just exactly how much they wanted to push it and Danny's hand shoots up in the air: "I'd like to spend my lunch with you." Dammit, Danny, it was supposed to be a threat.

Jose is 7 and is the 1st grade version of Jack Black, complete with a belly, incredible facial expressions and a tendency to roll on the floor, take off various articles of clothing, break crayons at will and draw bloody explosions when the rest of the class is drawing their favorite vegetable.

Maria is 15 and is convinced that the members of the band Los Inquietos del Norte are all going to marry her someday and that the louder she screams at their concerts the sooner that will happen. She has also been known to sing the state song of Guadalajara upon request. She and her sister often argue in class about whether or not they have the same dad.