Amen, Sister!

“I'm... absolutely crazy about this particular man I just met and had two fabulous dinners with in the space of one week. A man who hasn't had the courtesy to call me today probably because he's simply of the undependable gender . . . So he'll just... drift away like the legion of other cowards for whom I spent my young life staring at the phone like an exquisite collie hoping for table scraps until I became successful and suddenly I started to scare them --- scare them with the very independence they required me to have, so that now I'm looking at some bad numbers, really rough stuff if you know what I'm talking about.”

-C J. Craig, The West Wing “Faith Based Initiative"

Defending Alex's honor

In the interest of defending the honor of my boyfriend Alex Ryan, I submit the following video:



'Nuff said. . .and yes, he does wax his chest. . . get over it.

The new boyfriend

I just wanted you all to meet my new boyfriend. His name is Alex, and he's from Australia. We met at my public library, and although I thought he was obnoxious at first, I couldn't help falling in love. Of course, we have a few hurdles to get over, like his excessive love of home brewed beer, tank tops, and tight jeans. These are things I can get past. The thing that's really getting in our way is that he's a fictional character from an Australian tv show, but I think that we might be able to find a way to work around that. Our relationship is that strong.

News Flash: Jill is 29 years old. . .

Hey everyone,
I need to print (is that the appropriate term considering this is an entirely digital medium? I've thought about this more than you'd think and I couldn't come up with a better way to put it so there you go. You get the word print and a frightening little window into my thought processes.)a retraction.

I wrote in my entry entitled "Sarah Jessica Parker and me. . . Practically Twins" that my friend Jill was 30 and officially old. This was a joke on my part to see if she was reading my blog. Jill is in all actuality 29 years old which is a whole year younger than 30. I want that to go on record.

So now, I have to say, my friend Jill is only 29 and not yet officially old. She is still just kinda old. So there!!

The best laid plans. . .

You should always have a backup plan. That's my lesson for the week.

I spent last weekend setting up blogs for my students with my brother. We both got very excited about how brilliant and talented we are. I linked the blogs with my website so that it will be easy for my students to find the blogs, and set them up to be private. Then, I wrote my lesson plans to include a day for getting on the computers and look over the blogs as well as set up student accounts in turnitin.com, a lovely plagarism site.

Well, I didn't sleep more than 3 hours Thursday night (fun with insomnia!) but thought, "No big deal, my kids will be playing around on the internet tomorrow, I can handle that with no sleep." I got to school a bit earlier than usual, and opened my school email to find that the internet was down and would be all day. FUN!!! So, on my 3 hours of sleep I had to come up with a completely different lesson plan. I never realized how much I rely on the internet until I didn't have it to help me. We'd just finished Of Mice and Men the day before, so I decided that we'd analyze the part of "To a Mouse" by Robert Burns where Steinbeck got his title. I sat down at my computer to search for the poem when I realized (duh) again that the internet didn't work. I had to use (gasp!) books! Luckily, I still have my handy dandy Norton Anthologies of English Literature volumes I and II from my days as an English major at BYU. For those of you who weren't English majors, Norton Anthologies are very heavy books with so much literature packed inside that the pages are almost as thin as tissue paper and the print is almost microscopic. I had a love/hate relationship with them while I was in college, especially the semester when I had to carry three such anthologies on Mondays/Wednesdays/Fridays.

Yesterday, it was all love baby. I found the poem, typed it in larger print, made copies, and viola! I had a lesson plan. The irony that they were analyzing a poem with the lines "The best laid schemes o' mice an' men/go oft awry." did not escape me. . . trust me.

My students did a great job analyzing and connecting the poem to the novel, I got their email addresses for the blogs, and I got a LOT of work done because I didn't have the internet to distract me. I never realized how much time I waste in a day, and I must say, I'm a bit ashamed.

Well, I've got to go to YouTube and watch some videos... catch you later.

Sarah Jessica Parker and me. . . practically twins!

Hey, I don't usually use my vast blogging influence to plug products, and I want you to know that I'm not getting any kick backs for the following testimonial.

I'm in love. Yes. It's true. A couple of weekends ago my friend and I decided to celebrate Nevada Day (Yep, it's a real thing. . . and we got off of work for it) by getting the heck out of Nevada. We went to Southern California to visit old friends (literally, my friend Jill is now 30 and officially old) and to be in California. We had a great time both days, but on Saturday, we went shopping in Pasadena and I got to visit a little place I like to call Lush, 'cause that's it's name.



for those of you who've never had the pleasure of visiting Lush, it is a wonderland of skin care. I bought a couple of bath bombs (there's little in life that I like as much as a good bath). One is called the "Butter Ball". For a little holiday variety they've made a version of the bomb in the shape of a snowman called "Mr. Butterball". I bought this one 'cause it was cheaper, and I'm kinda cheap. When I first visited Lush with my best friend a few years ago we were informed that this particular bath bomb is one preferred by Sarah Jessica Parker. Now, I've never met the woman, so I don't know how the recommendation was supposed to impress me. I'm going to have to take it on faith and the word of a girl with multiple piercings and blue hair that her skin is silky and smooth as a baby's bottom.

Lest some of my readers think I can be won over with this Hollywood tabloid salesmanship (you know who you are. . . )I didn't buy the bomb because of that recommendation, but rather because it promised me silky soft skin.

Last night I used "Mr. Butterball" for my bath. Unlike every man in my life (other than my dear father and brothers) Mr. Butterball lived up to every promise he made me. My skin is so silky and smooth that I couldn't resist stroking my own arms from time to time today when no one was looking (I hope).

I"m decided that even though I'd have to go through life with the unfortunate name Mrs. Butterball, and my husband would be in the Las Vegas sewer system as we speak, I want to marry Mr. Butterball. I do. Maybe THIS is the answer to the Man Plan.

Group Humiliation

Today was our Homecoming Pep Assembly today. First of all, let me remind you fair readers, I work at a magnet school. We don't have any sports teams. We are nerds. We are quiet when the teachers ask us to be and we remain seated when asked to do so. All of this makes our school is a great place to work, but not for the greatest assemblies in the world. Today's was pretty good. We were introduced to the nominees for the Homecoming court (two of my AVID kids are nominated. Whoot!), we had some cross dressing competition (yeah, you read that correctly) and then. . . . . . . the teachers were paraded out in front to dance the Cha Cha Slide. I tried frantically to be on the back row, but everyone else had the same idea and I was shoved out front by a member of our Computer Science department. Let me tell you something: I can dance. Really. I can. I'm rather proud of that. That being said, I don't do line dancing or dancing with specific directions. Sooooo I was worried.



Anyway, several students stopped by to tell me that I looked good. . . compared to the other teachers. One of my AVID students said, "You can dance. I DID NOT expect that from YOU." translation: "I thought you were like all of the other middle-aged (in my 30's) white women I know." It reminded me of a recent conversation my sister had with her 6 year old daughter. My niece found my sister's high school cheerleading uniform and said to her, "I just can NOT imagine you like that, you're going to have to show me a picture because I just can NOT imagine you that way at all." Nice to know how old we all are.

Of course, later I was informed by two 17 year old girls that I could pass for 25 and they did NOT understand why I couldn't find myself a husband. They offered me suggestions, "Maybe you could find one at church." "Maybe you could marry my graphics teacher." I'm glad they're worried about me. Is this the Man Plan part 3?

The agony of defeat

Hey everyone,
First off, may I say "Thank you!" to all of my commenters who've heaped hyperbolic praise upon me after my last post. I appreciate the attagirls. However, after filling out 13 AVID academic probation contracts, I don't know if it's deserved. I'm feeling like a wee little failure this morning, in fact.

I don't know what to do at this point. Some of these kids are failing 4 and 5 classes. FOUR AND FIVE!! What is going on? Are they listening to me AT ALL? Am I saying the right things? Doing anything of value? Grrr!! Here's the truth about teaching. For every minute spent basking in the wonderful parts (and they are truly wonderful) you spend five doubting every single thing you do. Luckily the good parts are so mind bogglingly beautiful that the ugliness doesn't seem so bad. . . later, when you think back.

So, I'll just say it: Don't praise me too quickly, I've got a lot of room to grow. . .