The 80's were bad for all of us...

You know, I used to love to look at my parents' old yearbooks and see the great late 50's/early 60's fashion and hair. Alas, if you were born in the 70's like me, your children will not have the same reaction. Thanks to the magic that is YouTube we see that even the 1986 Dodgers had no sense of fashion, rhythm, or propriety for that matter. Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you: The Baseball Boogie starring, sadly, my boys in blue.



I used to practically worship these guys. So sad to see your idols fall from grace. Thanks David!

Star Wars: What it's REALLY about

Ok, I'm not usually one for the cute factor, but this video is ADORABLE!

La Familia

So. . . I just have to post this AMAZING family photo circa 1985. It's a family favorite for several reasons:

1. We aren't the family photo kind of family, so it's one of the few surviving pictures with all of us in it.

There was a FABULOUS poster sized picture of all of us at Circus Circus from about 1983 that has mysteriously dissappeared. I blame my dad who wasn't a big fan of his hairstyle in the photo. It was last spotted when my brothers and I found it behind our mom's hope chest when I was a junior in high school. We laughed and laughed and laughed and laughed and then it dissappeared. Suspicious, no?

2. It reminds us of our very special day in Tijuana when my father asked the cab driver IN SPANISH to take us to the mercado where they sell the touristy stuff. The man smiled, told us "No problemo" and dropped us off in the middle of my mother's worst nightmare. We got out of the cab right next to a shop with an enormous mound of dried shrimp, a dead cat lying in the street, and a young boy of about ten sharpening his knife on the curb as he stared at us with dark, haunted eyes.

We eventually found our way to the part of town my father had originally intended and had a pretty good day. My sister Christy got her "wooby" (a blanket she still has to this day. She insists her attachment is only because "it's a comfortable blanket" but we all know better.), we saw a velvet painting of Joseph Smith, Jr., and my dad bought me a beautiful opal ring (I lost it about 2 weeks later while swimming at a family friend's house. I can't be trusted with rings. That's why I'm not married.).

3. It's amazing that my dad took the time and actually paid to have this picture taken. He's not cheap, but doesn't go for this kind of tourist nonesense.

4. We all look like idiots in our sombreros (which I remember NOT wanting to put on my head. . . let's just say I doubted the proprietors had been vigilant as far as cleanliness goes.) but my dad's is just absolutely ridiculous. Why do you give the only adult man in the group the tiniest hat? And one that says, "Oh Boy!"? Priceless.

If you notice, I'm in the middle wearing a sombrero that pleads, "KISS ME!" Talk about desperate. Oh, Eleven Year-old Me, NEVER BEG!! Boys don't like needy girls. Learn it now, it'll save us both a lot of heartache.

5. THAT IS IN FACT A BURRO PAINTED TO LOOK LIKE A ZEBRA! It just doesn't get better than that.

"I always wanted to be somebody. . . maybe I should have been more specific" -Lily Tomlin

This past Friday night my friend Jill and I were trading text messages about the sad state of our social lives (it was 9 pm on a Friday night and we were both already in our PJ's and the highlight of each of our evenings had been a trip to Vons. Seperately. In two different cities in two different states. Seriously, we're kinda the same person...it's scary)

Anywho, after realizing that I too, was a party animal like no other, I texted Jill, "Yeah, you know me, an inspiration to millions." Here's the crazy thing. I am a chubby, single, boring English teacher who is about to turn 34 years old. I have very little social life, and the highlight of my week is when those wonderful little red envelopes from Netflix arrive in my mailbox. The only time I have a man to gush about he's either a fictional character from an Australian Television show

( Alex! Nick!)
or Toby Stephens. . .

(ahhhhhhhhh Toby!)

I guess the point that I'm trying to make is that I'm kinda a sad sack. That's why it's so funny that I have a groupie. Her name is Lucy, or at least that's what I'm calling her. She's a student in my sophomore level honors English class, and A-DOR-A-BLE (That's like a hundred cutes according to my niece Samantha). She's also very popular at my school, fashionable, has tons of friends, etc. Meaning, she'd be one of the girls that tortured me in Junior High. For some reason, Lucy looooooooooooves me.

Now, I'm not going for false modesty. I know I'm a good teacher and my students, on the whole, like me. More importantly, most learn a lot from me. I just have never taught a kid with such a desire to be my best friend EVER!!

She stops by to see me at least 3 times a day when she's NOT coming to my class. She wants to

1. hug me
2. touch my hair
3. comment on my outfit
4. ask my opinion about her outfit
5. ask my opinion on the relative "hotness" of boys who walk by (icky!)
6. know what I did last weekend
7. know what ward I attend or if I think she should "Go Mormon"
8. find out my hopes and dreams
9. go to the movies or shopping together, and
10. be my best friend.

At first I thought she was kidding when she suggested we go shopping at the mall and then go and see a movie. I laughed. Then she looked at me, totally serious, and said, "No, I really want to go. I think we'd have so much fun!!" I replied, "Lucy, that'd be really creepy!" She responded, "No it wouldn't! You're cool! No one would think I was wierd if I hung out with you." I had to explain that I : 33 year old woman, would be the one the target of all the pointing and staring, not her: 16 year old girl.


All I have to say is this: Why can't an adult MAN feel this strongly about me? Huh? Is that too much to ask? Every guy I've dated has been pretty ho-hum about me, but this 16 year old girl wants to spend every waking hour at my side. All I have to say is ... Don't just pray to find someone who will love you... BE SPECIFIC. Heavenly Father has an interesting sense of humor.

Did someone slip me a mickey?

Hey all. I'm tired. Yep. That's all I have to say. I'm tired, and although I didn't exactly go to bed early last night, I can't quite figure out why I feel like I took a benadryl instead of my vitamin this morning. I think I'll blame it on my mom, dad, and sister who are in town visiting. Yes. That's it. This is all THEIR fault. I'll remember that when I'm at class tonight falling asleep during my presentation. Humph! Family!

Just in time for Valentine's Day...

Online Dating Helping Pathetic Women Get Their Hopes Crushed More Efficiently

Whew! Now I Feel Better

Don't worry my love, you'll feel better soon. I'll make dinner, clean the apartment, and rub your feet when you get home. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me.

Love,
Toby

Abject Failure. . .

Hey all, I want to apologize in advance for this post. I'm feeling like a total and complete failure today. Every Monday in my AVID class we have a time for celebrations where the kids get up and tell us that they've raised their grades, or did well at their wrestling match or basketball game etc. Today NO ONE wanted to share. I know that there are a lot of things that these kids are doing that are celebration worthy. They come up to me privately and whisper their excitement in my ear. I'm so glad that they trust me with that information, but I'm sad that my AVID class isn't the safe environment I've worked so hard to create. I feel like a failure. In addition, I looked at my class's first semester grades and half of them. .. HALF had at least one D or F. I guess I just don't understand why, with all of the support and with all of the guidance they still just don't get it. I also don't understand why I care more than they do. Oh well. I know that these feelings will pass and that tomorrow the sun's gonna rise, but I'm just so frustrated and sad about it today.

Two things. . . maybe three

Sooooooo. . . .

1. I was hit on by the old man greeter at Wal-mart today. Yeah. He was older than my father by at least 10 years and made a suggestive comment while placing his hand on my lower back. Luckily for him, I was shopping after school on a Friday and was about half brain dead. In fact, it didn't hit me just how innapropriate the whole situation was until I got into my car. First I laughed in shock, then I shivered in disgust, and now I'm ok except for the involuntary shudder that rolls over me everytime I remember the experience. (THIS IS NOT THE SOLUTION TO "THE MAN PLAN"! Also, it reminds me of a conversation I had with a male friend of mine years ago. He told me that guys only hit on girls they think they have a chance with. . . WHAT DOES THAT SAY ABOUT ME?????!!!???!!)

2. I have eaten a wonderous and low fat thing. I will share it with you: Pringles Stix. They are little packets of bread sticks and they are WONDERFUL. I ate the honey butter flavor and they weren't just good for a low fat or calorie snack, but truly truly delicious. Go buy them!



3. I get to see my mission president, John Bailey tonight! I'm so excited. It's been at least 10 years since I've seen him,at a mission reunion. I didn't really get to talk to him that night since there were so many of us. Tonight it will only be five of us so we'll get a chance to catch up. President Bailey is Australian, so it's not like I can just drop by when I'm in the neighborhood. I really love this man, so this is a treat. The only thing that would make it better would be if Sister Bailey was in town as well. I love her to little bits and pieces and used to do a rather fantastic impression. . .

Jill and I have the same result. . . who'da thunk?

So I was checking out my friend Jill's Blog "Sunny Little Raincloud" (please go and see it, she's hilarious. But don't leave me! Please don't leave me! Can't you read what the results of this quiz were? Huh? I'm dependent upon you for validation!!) and she posted the results of a quiz to see what personality disorder you have. I did, and lo and behold, we have the same personality disorder. This will not shock those people who've even spent any real time with the two of us. When we taught at the same school we were OFTEN mistaken for each other and one of the students that shared though that we had "friendship bracelets and one of the necklaces that breaks in half and says best friends, and TRAVELING PANTS!" Oh well. You go through life, thinking you're original...

You May Be a Bit Dependent...

You're more than a little preoccupied with being abandoned. You need a lot of support in your life, at all times. It's difficult for you to survive on your own... And you don't reallly think you ever could.

What Personality Disorder Are You?

But like Jill I must say, Jill, Marilyn, me: ALL HOT!!

An Addendum

IT WAS THESE SUCKERS WHO TRIED TO KILL ME!



(Ed. note: aren't these some of the most beautiful people in the world? I mean, look at that baby, won't you?)


I would post a retraction from my last entry if those in question hadn't caused me to:

1. Puke up my guts all over their driveway the week before Christmas last year.

2. Become so sick one Easter that I didn't go to church, but instead got home from the airport, pulled off my clothing and crawled into bed only to be interrupted by my Visiting Teachers who thought I was a filthy heathen with a hangover.

3. Puke from the cabin in Southern Utah all the way to Yucca Valley California, leaving me in such a state that I refused to talk to a friend I hadn't heard from in 5 years.

4. Clean up my car FIVE TIMES when two of them (Carly and Rachel you know who you are) puked all over the place even when I'd given them Dramamine and bags with which to catch their vomit.

So, you didn't get me this time, but I stand firm in my resolve. You people will be the death of me.

Matthew's kids: I'm putting you on notice...

Curtis and Alyssa, this has propelled you to the top of the my FAVORITE KIDS list.

Love Hurts. . .

I've recently realized that some things that I love simply aren't good for me: Cool Ranch Doritos, cupcakes, In-N-Out Cheeseburgers with grilled onions and a side of fries, or Cafe Rio's Pork Barbecoa and house dressing. Just thinking about them makes my mouth water and causes me to gain five pounds. I know I can't eat these things in the quantities I desire unless I want to end up so large that it will take a crane and a specially cut hole in the side of my house to remove my bloated corpse. Excising these treats from my regular diet hurts, trust me, but I have bigger problems. I've got to get rid of something far more precious. I'm not referring to food, I'm talkin' about these suckers:




I know, I know, they look innocent, don't they? Angelic, even. Don't let their sweet smiles and beauty fool you. These children are disease carriers.

It never fails, but if I spend time with them, I get sick. They've made me puke at Christmas, want to die at Easter, and now, after spending only a few hours in their presence I've been cursed with a head cold. This, even though none of them appeared to be sick in any way. I'd lay the blame elsewhere if their track record wasn't so darn perfect.

Now, I love these vermin. Lots and lots. I'd even venture to say that they constitute five of my favorite ten people in the entire world. But, I'm thinking I might have to cut them out completely. . . for my health.

Cool Ranch Doritos, cupcakes, In-N-Out Cheeseburgers, Pork Barbacoa, and Jamie's kids. . . the sacrifices I must make!

I LOOOOOOOOOVE Amazon.com

There is nothing I love more than seeing a little key in my mailbox indicating that I have a package. This is especially true when I know that key is telling me that the book/dvd/cd etc. that I've ordered from Amazon.com is here. I just love Amazon.com and when I see that little smiley/arrow on the side of the box I can't help but smile.



I'll take one step further to tell you that I love this man:



He invented Amazon.com. If I met him I might lay a big ole wet french kiss on him. . . if I was that kind of girl.

"Skirting the Issue" or "I've become THAT Girl"

I am in a quandary. I need your help. Really. I have an extremely difficult and life altering decision to make and I can't do it alone. So. . . if you want to be part of the solution (or enjoy yourself at my expense, and let's face it, that's what I'd be doing if it weren't me) please be patient and let me 'splain. . .

This past Wednesday I awoke at the altogether too early hour I always do (when I don't want to frighten small children by my appearance) and chose to wear my long, silvery black skirt. My reasons for wearing said skirt were threefold:

1. It was a cold day, it's long, and when paired with my black boots offers nearly as much warmth as my two work worthy pairs of pants I'd worn the two days previous.

2. It's comfortable and I knew that I'd need to go directly from school (work) to school (UNLV) and would be wearing whatever I chose for over 13 hours by the time all was said and done.

3. It was clean, and I had a shirt that matched

So, good. Done. Out the door. It wasn't until 3rd or 4th period that I realized that I had worn this same skirt (albeit with a different top) the Wednesday before. At first, it was just an interesting thought. "Hmmmm. How funny. I wore this skirt LAST Wednesday." Last Wednesday. When I had my first session of CIS 705 (Secondary Education Curriculum sounds like a facinating and exciting class, no?). Then I realized "I WORE THIS SAME SKIRT FOR THE ONLY OTHER MEETING OF THIS CLASS EVER!"

I know that in all actuality no one from class will remember

a. me

or

b. my skirt

But it still really freaked me out. I decided that I need to plan better. Maybe I need to write up a skirt schedule of some kind so that I don't end up accidentally wearing the same skirt every week and become THAT girl. . . you know,

Generic Student #1 "I just LOVED that presentation by Long Silvery Black Skirt Girl."

Generic Student #2 "Which girl?"

GS #1 "You know. The girl that wears the same skirt every week to class? What is WITH her?"

GS #2 "Oh yes, I know who you're talking about. She's weird. Let's throw things at her!"

I can easily imagine this scenario (other than the "let's throw things at her" part) 'cause it's pretty much how my friend Becky and I amuse ourselves during the more boring stretches in classes at UNLV. But, alas, I have no Becky in my Wednesday night class, and now I'm the weirdo.

I can also imagine this scenario rather easily because I was once unfortunate enough to be a girl attending La Contenta Junior High School. *Tiffani Snottypants, one of the "cool girls" in my class, meaning she drank and smoked pot in 7th grade, owned at least 10 different pairs of Reebok high tops in a rainbow of colors, and had enough taper legged Guess Jeans to never repeat a pair in a month. In addition to these accomplishments, she felt it her duty to keep track of who wore what on which days. It was apparently also her duty to walk up to whatever unfortunate soul she found lacking and inform them (usually in the crowded quad during lunch) exactly how they had broken her laws of fashion. Her victims, rather than tell her where to stick her advice, generally slunk off in shame, KNOWING they were somehow less than human.



Now many of you will say "But you are so beautiful and fashionable! You must have been safe from Tiffani's critiques." I would have to turn to you humbly and say, "Yes, I know I'm breathtaking NOW, but Junior High (and High School, and most of my time at BYU come to think of it) was a really low point fashion and looks-wise for me." (Those of you who were there can attest to this fact.)

I was frequently Tiffani's target during 7th grade before I made friends with a girl as mean as Tiffani but much less interested in fashion. I have a theory that the only way a sweet, tender girl can make it through Junior High with any kind of self worth is to have a mean friend willing to fight off the Tiffanis of the world.


So, I've decided I have a choice. Either I give in to the Ghost of Snotty Junior High Girls Past and make up a skirt schedule, or I throw off her Yoke of Humilationd and conduct an social experiment by wearing the skirt EVERY single Wednesday and see how long it takes for people to notice.

This decision, frankly, is too much for one person to handle alone, so readers I am unveiling the first ever survey. Vote and tell me what you think. . .but you'd better hurry 'cause I've got to decide by Tuesday night when I lay out my clothes.

Thanks!!

*Not her real name