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