EVERYTHING Sounds Better With an English Accent

Especially HIS English accent:



How adorable is Jude Law?

I'm a Halloweenie

I've never been a big fan of Halloween.

There. I've said it.

Don't get me wrong, as a kid I appreciated the free candy and all that, but the costumes.... never have been my thing.

Probably because they weren't my mom's thing either. We have some great pictures of my sisters as "Indians" wearing white garbage bags and my costume at age two when I wanted to be a "pretty lady" and ended up looking like Mrs. Robinson from The Graduate.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not blaming my mom for this. I understand her. Do I ever understand her. Every year when this holiday comes around I am reminded of my lack of creativity as far as costumes are concerned. Last year I went as "Your Auntie". My nieces weren't impressed. Another year I went to school as "Miss L-" with a sash and tiara. My students thought it sucked. Sigh.

My sister is a Halloween goddess. I'm not kidding. She spends countless hours tracking down, sewing, glueing, paper machie-ing, painting,.... costumes for her five children, and she ACTUALLY ENJOYS IT. If you want to see what I mean, check this out.

If my own child bearing dreams had been realized I'd be living down the street from my fabulous costume maker of a sister and every year my sad little indians and menopausal adulteresses would have to trick or treat with her Greek Hopelight Warriors and we all know they'd die a little inside just for having me as a mother.

Maybe that's why this commercial speaks to me so deeply:



You go Ironman, indeed.

Things I'm Thinkin' 'Bout

1. This is right next to the most adorable thing I've ever seen:



and fyi, this is NOT how Austen reacts to being fed. When I feed Austen, he walks over, looks at his food and then at me as if to say "Mum, do you fink I'm gonna eat that rubbish?" (remember, my dog has a tough British accent) Then, he moves his food one kibble at a time to the other side of the rug and then MAYBE, if I'm lucky he eats it(If I'm not lucky I step on soggy dog food with my bare feet.).

2. For eleven years I've told my students, "Pick up that backpack. I don't want to trip and fall." or "Push in that chair, I don't want to trip and fall." It's just one of those things you say as a teacher, I don't think I ever really thought I'd ever trip and fall. Well, no more. Last week I did exactly that, and in case you're wondering, yes. I was wearing a skirt. Yes. It flew up. No. I didn't die of embarrassment. Yes. I did hurt myself. My left foot to be exact. Yes. That left foot. No. It's not broken, just really bruised and painful.

It was one of those moments when I realized, once again, how happy I am to teach the kids I do. At either of my previous schools that story would have circled the school twice by the time school was done for the day. At mine? Not a single kid mentioned it ever again. Maybe the whole skirt flying up, visible teacher's underwear experience was so emotionally disturbing, that they all silently agreed to never speak of it again. One can hope.


3. Two weeks ago, there was an episode of Glee guest starring.... wait for it..... Neil Patrick Harris and directed by Joss Whedon. Does life get any better than that? Maybe for other people, but for me? Not really. (I am one sad spinster.)

4. Next Wednesday my sisters Jennifer and Christy, and my niece Alyssa are coming to stay with for for a few days. I'm so excited that I can hardly stand it. I'm planning our activities and clearning out the guest room for them. Austen's very excited, or he would be if he understood anything that I say to him.

5. I'm in the middle of buying a home for the first time in my life. I've put it off for various reasons including mind numbing fear at the thought of that much debt and the desire to move away from Las Vegas, but I made some realizations. 1. I'm not getting out of here until the economy improves. 2. Housing prices in Las Vegas are currently ridiculously low. 3. Might as well own if I'm going to stay here for awhile.

I have an accepted offer right now, but it's a short sale at it's going to take awhile and the bank could turn the offer down. I'm trying to be patient. We'll see how it goes.

6. Another video that puts my dog parenting to shame:



I'll bet that dog doesn't put down his ears and crawl into his owner's lap when given a command. Hmmmph.

7. Summer is three short school days away.

Dream a little dream with me....

Last night I dreamt that I was engaged to Patton Oswalt.



I will admit to the fact that I find him strangely attractive. Funny and talented goes a long way with me (and his bit about the KFC Famous bowl? Priceless. He calls it a failure pile in a sadness bowl. I love that). And there he was, in my dream. Engaged to me. And Mormon. (Even in my dream I had a hard time buying that one, what with his love of the F bomb and all.)

Anyway, after playing several rounds of Wii bowling and telling my mom that we were engaged we decided to go to a ward party (as you do on the day you get engaged). At the party we ran in to Mama Duggar who couldn't have been happier for us.


Maybe upgrading to Preferred Basic Cable was a bad idea....

I think he's on to something...

(Thanks Malissa!)

Well, I can now just up and die of happiness...

Awhile ago I wrote about the wonders of the new BBC television series Robin Hood. I waxed poetic about the fun story lines and cute boys and related the sad news that I do not, in fact, have BBC America, and therefore have to wait until each season is released on dvd.

I thought that would be all I'd have to say on the subject,(on this lil' ole' blog anyway) but I was wrong. Ohhhhhhh how I was wrong.

Because, you see, in series three not only is Richard Armitage



back playing the evil (yet yummy) Guy of Gisborne,

and cutey pie Jonas Armstrong



as the cheeky, yet righteous Robin

but new to the show is,


wait for it.....





My boyfriend Toby Stephens playing Prince John!!!!!!!!!!

And I will love him, even though he wants to kill adorable little Robin Hood.


So let's get this straight. In a British show that I already love, I get to watch



him, and



him, and (be still my beating heart)





him?

As my friend Ricci put it "There could be absolutely no plot and this would still be the best show on TV."

Damn. I'm going to have to get BBC America.

My Left Foot

I know it's been a long time since I posted last. Let me tell you that it was never my intention to leave the pitiful "I'm depressed about turning 35" post as long as I have. I have learned since that post that turning 35 is DEFINITELY not the worst thing in the world. It isn't even the worst thing that's happened this month.

This is:




The sad thing is, I don't even have a good story to tell. I was walking down the stairs from my apartment on my way to work when my ankle twisted on the last stair and I went down hard twisting both ankles and falling hard on both feet. I was in so much pain that I lay there thinking "I can't get up. I'm going to die here. Annnnnd I'm wearing a skirt. That's not pretty."

I soon realized that I live alone and no one was going to come to save me except possibly Jesus from the landscape crew, but he doesn't come to my complex until about 10 am. I needed to get up, but hurt so badly that I didn't know how I would even begin. I dragged over to the handrail of my stairs on my behind and then pulled myself up. It was so painful I thought I was going to black out, but I was sure it was just a really bad twist/sprain and I went to work.

I'm sure I was in shock; that's the only way I can explain the fact that I drove to school with a clutch and got to my second floor classroom on a broken left foot and sprained right one.

It wasn't until I got to my classroom that I looked down and saw that my foot was swelling at an alarming rate. I called my dad and told him about it as if he could tell me what to do without seeing it, but I pretty much knew from the location of the swelling that I'd done more than just sprain my ankle.

Once I got a sub I left, walking on my broken foot again, and drove my car to my brother David's, crying every time I had to push in the clutch.

Bless my brother David's heart he took me to urgent care, went to work while I got my diagnosis, and then picked me up afterwards. I honestly don't know what I would have done without him. (Love you David!!)

As I sat in a wheelchair in the Urgent Care entryway waiting for David, clutching my crutches and x-rays I realized that I couldn't

1. drive my car,
2. get into my apartment,
3. take care of my dog, or
4. do my job,

and I started to cry. I called my mom and dad and told them my pitiful condition and my mom got in the car and drove down to Las Vegas to pick me up(She'd been waiting to do so since I called my dad from my classroom). My dad got on the phone and called his orthopedic surgeon's office, found out they accepted my insurance and made me an appointment. They did all of this without complaint and I didn't have to ask for any of it. It made me appreciate, all over again how blessed I am to have such incredible parents.

So, I've had surgery and now my foot looks like this:



I know, I know. The improvement is startling. Actually, although I'm still in a splint, this one is MUCH better and I know that I'm on my way to healed. Also, I was lucky to have a talented and respected orthopedic surgeon fix my foot, and almost as important, an incredibly handsome and talented anesthesiologist who gave me a nerve block that lasted two days and got me through the worst of the pain.

I had my surgery Tuesday, but was originally scheduled for Friday. They called me at 11 am Tuesday when they had a cancellation and I'd already eaten breakfast. I was told not to eat anything else, and to be at the hospital at 3. When my mom and I got there I had to repeat about 5,000,001 times exactly what I ate and when. I was overjoyed that I hadn't snacked wildly that morning. Even though I'd only eaten a bowl of cereal and 2 pieces of toast I felt ashamed. I know they needed to know what I ate, but was it necessary to ask the chubby girl to repeat it so many times? I was waiting for them to bring out the spot light from NYPD Blue and have Sipowitz question me until I cracked and admitted to eating the bag of Cadbury Mini-Eggs my sister Christy had sent me just to get out of the room. However, finally, after all of the questioning it was decided that I'd get a nerve block in the back of my knee and be sedated, not anestetized. Bless the beautiful beautiful anesthesiologist (I would have loved him even if he wasn't cute, but he was. That made it fun to talk to him while wearing a hospital gown, unshowered, with no make-up) I remember nothing between being moved to the surgery table and waking up post-surgery.

Since the surgery I've had minimal pain, all things considered, and although I'm suffering through major cabin fever and am stressed out about missing 4-6 weeks of work, I'm just fine.

I've also learned:

1. Lortab binds you up.
2. Modesty is a luxury.
3. Showering with one leg hanging out of the door is not as effective as you'd think.
4. *Grading research papers while on narcotics is not easy, but it is QUICK!!
5. You can get tired of wearing jammies.
6. When you shop at Wal-Mart in a wheelchair everyone(including the polygamist women who everyone else is staring at) stares at you.
7. Day time TV is horrible.
8. America's Top Model is on nearly 24 hours a day when you have DirectTV.
9. Toilets are REALLY low to the ground
10. I naturally lead with my left foot, or did until February 25, 2009 at 6:30 am.


so there you go.

*Disclaimer: I didn't really grade papers under the influence of Lortab, but some of them were so bad that I kinda wish I had.