So I decided to write this particular entry about my weird food habits. I have so many strange habits that food habits have become their own category. Hey, I am a unique snowflake. Don't judge. Haha.
1. I don't like egg whites. But I really like the yolk. And especially that part right in between, where the yolk is kind of cooked but not all the way. This is of course A. when I eat eggs voluntarily, which is rarely and B. when they have been cooked properly so there's no little runny gooey part of the white left. Then, I like to cut the white off and just use the yolk part. And I do not like scrambled eggs. Or omelettes. Gross.
2. If the food is questionable in anyway, I won't eat it. Like it might smell funny but I can't tell if it's just me or not. If I question it for a moment in my mind, I lose my appetite for it. For example, I used to like chicken burritos from Taco Bell but once my brother said, "Yeah, I like those too, even thought you know that meat is like the cheapest part of the chicken, like the asshole or something." Now, whenever I think of chicken meat from Taco Bell, I think of chicken assholes and then I want to throw up a little bit in my mouth. And now, I can't eat chicken from Taco Bell.
3. I can't eat two sweet things at the same time. I thought everyone was like this until recently. Then, the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I had never understood why people would eat candy and drink soda at the same time. It's like they cancel each other out in my mouth and become roadkill. Or something else that I imagine would taste disgusting. So, coffee and dessert for me is coffee THEN dessert. Because I like my coffee sweet. Of course.
4. I avoid raw chicken. And reheated chicken. Reheated meat in general. Also, raw meat on the whole kind of grosses me out. Raw chicken is germy pink goo. Like mutant slime. And meat is only good when it's fresh cooked. Reheated meat reminds me of leather. And I've never once thought about eating leather. I would have been the worst member of the Donner party. Or the first one eaten.
10.25.2010
10.18.2010
more bad habits....or fears rather
I guess these aren't really all bad habits. There's mostly fears sprinkled in and quirks and pet peeves. Just a little of everything really. Guess it means I will need to do a things I love post afterward to even it out.
4. Seems pretty self explanatory but nighttime. I was going to say forests at nighttime but then I realized that I don't really like very many nighttime related things. I hate forests at nighttime. I hate empty houses at nighttime. I hate creepy alleyways at nighttime. Scuba diving in the middle of the ocean in the middle of the night would be my worst nightmare. I would seriously not take a million dollars to do it. I would rather be poverty stricken my whole life than accept a million dollars to be in the ocean in the darkness. Maybe I meant the word "darkness"? Because actually I really love my house at nighttime when all the candles are lit and it's cozy and warm. But I do not like going outside when it's dark. So...I don't mind the nighttime when I am in the light! See how I did that.....deductive reasoning....BLAM! Ninja.
5. Speaking of ninjas, I don't really like to handle sharp objects. Like knives. I do it all the time but I don't feel totally comfortable with it. I just know that any second, it will slip and happen to land in my kidney or something. And GARBAGE DISPOSALS!!! Oh God, no way. I will not stick my hand down in that murky, razor protected portal of Hades. Dude, I saw that movie....Final Destination. I think my brain collapsed from the stress of that moment in the movie when that dude is digging around in the garbage disposal and there's a side view closeup of the switch and the music and GAAAAAHHHHHH!!! I can't handle it. Once, there was a little knife stuck in my garbage disposal.....you can imagine the trauma I have experienced. It's amazing I'm still functional.
6. And speaking of things that make me uncomfortable, I have an alarmingly obsessive fear of raw wood. The feel of it. I don't like touching it and it never comes anywhere near my mouth. Like toothpicks and popsic....I'm sorry, I need a moment....le sticks. I am cringing as I type this. The MENTION of popsicle sticks is enough to induce tremors. And no, I do not eat popsicles. Ever. Or use toothpicks. Or chopsticks. Or even suckers, because the paper stick is kind of the same as the wooden stick and now you see just how irrational I have become. It's quite sad really. Painted wood is ok, polished wood if ok, really smooth wood is ok.....raw wood is a big hell to the no...NO. There are times when the accidental touch of raw wood has incapacitated me. Scraping wood on my teeth would downright kill me, I think. I have never met anyone with the same affliction. Everyone else seems to be able to use wooden coffee stirrers to their little hearts content. Imagine the purgatory I go through each year when my school's (wonderful and amazing) PTA brings popsicles to a faculty meeting. 40 people sucking on wooden sticks. It's pretty devastating. I have no idea where this comes from, I have never experienced actual trauma related to wooden sticks...as far as I know anyway. But I don't remember it ever not being this way.
I'm feeling a bit peckish.....probably because I just spent half an hour thinking about wooden popsicle sticks. I just imagined an even worse worst nightmare. Being in the ocean in the middle of the night with a raft made of popsicle sticks.
4. Seems pretty self explanatory but nighttime. I was going to say forests at nighttime but then I realized that I don't really like very many nighttime related things. I hate forests at nighttime. I hate empty houses at nighttime. I hate creepy alleyways at nighttime. Scuba diving in the middle of the ocean in the middle of the night would be my worst nightmare. I would seriously not take a million dollars to do it. I would rather be poverty stricken my whole life than accept a million dollars to be in the ocean in the darkness. Maybe I meant the word "darkness"? Because actually I really love my house at nighttime when all the candles are lit and it's cozy and warm. But I do not like going outside when it's dark. So...I don't mind the nighttime when I am in the light! See how I did that.....deductive reasoning....BLAM! Ninja.
5. Speaking of ninjas, I don't really like to handle sharp objects. Like knives. I do it all the time but I don't feel totally comfortable with it. I just know that any second, it will slip and happen to land in my kidney or something. And GARBAGE DISPOSALS!!! Oh God, no way. I will not stick my hand down in that murky, razor protected portal of Hades. Dude, I saw that movie....Final Destination. I think my brain collapsed from the stress of that moment in the movie when that dude is digging around in the garbage disposal and there's a side view closeup of the switch and the music and GAAAAAHHHHHH!!! I can't handle it. Once, there was a little knife stuck in my garbage disposal.....you can imagine the trauma I have experienced. It's amazing I'm still functional.
6. And speaking of things that make me uncomfortable, I have an alarmingly obsessive fear of raw wood. The feel of it. I don't like touching it and it never comes anywhere near my mouth. Like toothpicks and popsic....I'm sorry, I need a moment....le sticks. I am cringing as I type this. The MENTION of popsicle sticks is enough to induce tremors. And no, I do not eat popsicles. Ever. Or use toothpicks. Or chopsticks. Or even suckers, because the paper stick is kind of the same as the wooden stick and now you see just how irrational I have become. It's quite sad really. Painted wood is ok, polished wood if ok, really smooth wood is ok.....raw wood is a big hell to the no...NO. There are times when the accidental touch of raw wood has incapacitated me. Scraping wood on my teeth would downright kill me, I think. I have never met anyone with the same affliction. Everyone else seems to be able to use wooden coffee stirrers to their little hearts content. Imagine the purgatory I go through each year when my school's (wonderful and amazing) PTA brings popsicles to a faculty meeting. 40 people sucking on wooden sticks. It's pretty devastating. I have no idea where this comes from, I have never experienced actual trauma related to wooden sticks...as far as I know anyway. But I don't remember it ever not being this way.
I'm feeling a bit peckish.....probably because I just spent half an hour thinking about wooden popsicle sticks. I just imagined an even worse worst nightmare. Being in the ocean in the middle of the night with a raft made of popsicle sticks.
10.14.2010
habits, hobbies and minor annoyances
I'm kind of the queen of bad habits. In general. I have so many bad habits, I've lost count. Gross ones, unhealthy ones, unnecessary ones, imagined ones, weird ones....etcetera. So I figured it might be kind of funny to write about them today.
1. I bite my nails. Gross. I don't remember when it started and I've made my peace with the fact that it may never stop. I remember reading Berenstein Bears and the Bad Habit when I was in fifth grade and trying to stop then. But dimes just weren't a motivator for me. Quarters maybe would have worked but dimes....h to the no. I don't even stop to pick up a dime on the street. Ok, maybe I do, but that's because I teach school. Get what I'm saying? But PENNIES, no way. I digress. It didn't help that I was trying to play Pavlov to myself AND that I was like, 11. I tried, once again to stop during my first year of teaching. I got embarrassed and stopped for about two weeks. And all I did for two weeks was think about biting my nails. I would look at my long, beautiful nails like a fiend. "I just want to bite it sooo bad. Just one nibble. Just one." I haven't tried to stop since then.
2. I am terrified of everything that has to do with dark, unseen places. Like deep water, caves, underground tunnels, haunted houses, etc. I am the biggest wimp I know. I won't go in water unless I can see the bottom and know that there are no little critters or surprises waiting for me. I won't go in dark places if I can help it. I'll wait outside thankyouverymuch. Haunted houses, forget it. My boyfriend has been saying for two years that he's going to get me to go to a really scary haunted house, to which my response is,"And then how would you feel after I shat myself?" I think I can pinpoint this one to a few different places. First, swimming in a lake when I was 8 and a fish brushing my leg and me screaming bloody murder as I tried to run through the water back to shore. Alas, Jesus I am not, and ended up with a mouthful of lake water, which didn't scare me as much as the possibility of that water having bugs in it. And being 11 and going on a field trip to a castle and my class being shut in a dark dungeon for a minute so we could see what it felt like. Bitch, I have a good imagination, I don't need it to actually happen to me to know that it sucks. Or my church when I was 10, which took place in two buildings set across a giant graveyard from each other and me being asked to carry a message to the OTHER BUILDING, at NIGHT, through a DARK GRAVEYARD. I swear to God, I saw that angel statue move fo real. Which leads me to...
3. Scary movies. I DO NOT watch them. I cried during Land Before Time. I'm a sensitive soul. That part in the Secret Garden, where the main girl hears Colin crying in the nighttime before she knows it's Colin, ruined my sleep for days. Harry Potter probably would have horrified me when I was a kid. Hey, don't judge, there's some scary shit going down at Hogwarts. I WILL make an exception for zombie movies....IF they are cheesy AND someone else is present. I guess both of these also explain why I don't like to be the leader or the last one in a line of people. The leader always has to actually see the danger and the last person is always the first to be snatched away. I'm perfectly fine with being the padding in the middle.
I guess I'm more neurotic than I thought. This might take awhile. I will write about the next 3 tomorrow.
1. I bite my nails. Gross. I don't remember when it started and I've made my peace with the fact that it may never stop. I remember reading Berenstein Bears and the Bad Habit when I was in fifth grade and trying to stop then. But dimes just weren't a motivator for me. Quarters maybe would have worked but dimes....h to the no. I don't even stop to pick up a dime on the street. Ok, maybe I do, but that's because I teach school. Get what I'm saying? But PENNIES, no way. I digress. It didn't help that I was trying to play Pavlov to myself AND that I was like, 11. I tried, once again to stop during my first year of teaching. I got embarrassed and stopped for about two weeks. And all I did for two weeks was think about biting my nails. I would look at my long, beautiful nails like a fiend. "I just want to bite it sooo bad. Just one nibble. Just one." I haven't tried to stop since then.
2. I am terrified of everything that has to do with dark, unseen places. Like deep water, caves, underground tunnels, haunted houses, etc. I am the biggest wimp I know. I won't go in water unless I can see the bottom and know that there are no little critters or surprises waiting for me. I won't go in dark places if I can help it. I'll wait outside thankyouverymuch. Haunted houses, forget it. My boyfriend has been saying for two years that he's going to get me to go to a really scary haunted house, to which my response is,"And then how would you feel after I shat myself?" I think I can pinpoint this one to a few different places. First, swimming in a lake when I was 8 and a fish brushing my leg and me screaming bloody murder as I tried to run through the water back to shore. Alas, Jesus I am not, and ended up with a mouthful of lake water, which didn't scare me as much as the possibility of that water having bugs in it. And being 11 and going on a field trip to a castle and my class being shut in a dark dungeon for a minute so we could see what it felt like. Bitch, I have a good imagination, I don't need it to actually happen to me to know that it sucks. Or my church when I was 10, which took place in two buildings set across a giant graveyard from each other and me being asked to carry a message to the OTHER BUILDING, at NIGHT, through a DARK GRAVEYARD. I swear to God, I saw that angel statue move fo real. Which leads me to...
3. Scary movies. I DO NOT watch them. I cried during Land Before Time. I'm a sensitive soul. That part in the Secret Garden, where the main girl hears Colin crying in the nighttime before she knows it's Colin, ruined my sleep for days. Harry Potter probably would have horrified me when I was a kid. Hey, don't judge, there's some scary shit going down at Hogwarts. I WILL make an exception for zombie movies....IF they are cheesy AND someone else is present. I guess both of these also explain why I don't like to be the leader or the last one in a line of people. The leader always has to actually see the danger and the last person is always the first to be snatched away. I'm perfectly fine with being the padding in the middle.
I guess I'm more neurotic than I thought. This might take awhile. I will write about the next 3 tomorrow.
10.05.2010
it snot funny
By the way, we are seven weeks into the school year and I am already in my third round of sickness. Or should I say, snotness. I love the beginning of the school year. Fresh, smiling, new germs....i mean students eagerly awaiting your first word(it's only the first one they care about, after two, they're gone forever). I seriously did not know it was humanly possible to produce this much snot. I feel like I should start wearing some kind of snot shield around. I'm scared to death of accidentally shooting a snot rocket in front of my class. I cannot think of any worse purgatorial punishment than launching accidental snot rockets for all eternity. Well, maybe I can. Laundry comes to mind. Besides the point. Or SNARTING! OMG, I did just think of something worse than snot rockets. I would forever be known as THAT teacher, the one who sneezed and accidentally ripped one in front of a silent classroom. Oh God. What have I done? I will now have to clench for as long as I live. Baby got back ya'll. I'm not entirely sure how I got from snot to Sir Mix-a-Lot, but girlfriend(or bf, whatevs), here we are. What I'm trying to say is I'm sick. And I work in a petri dish. Send thoughts of chicken soup and Sprite my way. Thanks.
first day of the fall
Favorite Student Quote of the Day: "I can only play video games for like an hour, cause then I get bored."
So I'm trying a few new things this year. I actually have a class website now. I'm doing weekly spelling tests and journaling. I feel like I've really changed as a teacher over the past few years. Well, besides the fact that it was not so long ago that I was a terrified rookie. I still feel like I'm new in so many ways but I also feel more and more comfortable in what I'm doing, each day even. It's like a perfect balance right now. I know enough to feel confident and sure of myself but I still don't know enough that it's interesting. It's like each year, I take a new step. In one way, this kind of scares me, because I don't ever want to not feel interested. I know that happens. I've seen it. In teachers I had when I was a student and in colleagues. It's not that they have nothing left to learn, it's that they were no longer interested in learning it. If that ever starts to happen to me, then it's time to move on to something else. Bur right now, I love what I'm doing. I have amazing days and I have horrible, shitty days. I have days that make me question why I ever decided to start the Teaching Program and then I have days that make me marvel at how lucky it was that I did. I constantly wonder if I'm doing a good enough job. Or if I'm teaching the right thing. In the right way. Or at the right time. I am always pondering new ideas or solutions or things to say or do or teach. But not enough, that it has taken over my life. I'm not gonna lie, I'm no Erin Gruwell. I'm never going to work two extra jobs buy classroom supplies, but I'm not bad either, I don't think. I take pride in my work and I enjoy what I do. I care very deeply about my students and about being the best teacher I can be for them.
That said, I am a very fun-loving person. I like to describe myself as big, loud, and red. I don't really know why. But my personality totally comes through in my teaching. Therefore, I'm not afraid to poke a little fun at the realm of public education, myself included. I like to see the lighter side of things. It makes life more fun, ya know. So pardon if I don't write, speak, or sound like a "proper" English teacher. I know my subject. I'm good at it. But I'm not stuffy. And somehow, it works (the Fine Arts minor probably helped a bit as well). So basically, I always end up having a good time. And sometimes, my students do too.
So I'm trying a few new things this year. I actually have a class website now. I'm doing weekly spelling tests and journaling. I feel like I've really changed as a teacher over the past few years. Well, besides the fact that it was not so long ago that I was a terrified rookie. I still feel like I'm new in so many ways but I also feel more and more comfortable in what I'm doing, each day even. It's like a perfect balance right now. I know enough to feel confident and sure of myself but I still don't know enough that it's interesting. It's like each year, I take a new step. In one way, this kind of scares me, because I don't ever want to not feel interested. I know that happens. I've seen it. In teachers I had when I was a student and in colleagues. It's not that they have nothing left to learn, it's that they were no longer interested in learning it. If that ever starts to happen to me, then it's time to move on to something else. Bur right now, I love what I'm doing. I have amazing days and I have horrible, shitty days. I have days that make me question why I ever decided to start the Teaching Program and then I have days that make me marvel at how lucky it was that I did. I constantly wonder if I'm doing a good enough job. Or if I'm teaching the right thing. In the right way. Or at the right time. I am always pondering new ideas or solutions or things to say or do or teach. But not enough, that it has taken over my life. I'm not gonna lie, I'm no Erin Gruwell. I'm never going to work two extra jobs buy classroom supplies, but I'm not bad either, I don't think. I take pride in my work and I enjoy what I do. I care very deeply about my students and about being the best teacher I can be for them.
That said, I am a very fun-loving person. I like to describe myself as big, loud, and red. I don't really know why. But my personality totally comes through in my teaching. Therefore, I'm not afraid to poke a little fun at the realm of public education, myself included. I like to see the lighter side of things. It makes life more fun, ya know. So pardon if I don't write, speak, or sound like a "proper" English teacher. I know my subject. I'm good at it. But I'm not stuffy. And somehow, it works (the Fine Arts minor probably helped a bit as well). So basically, I always end up having a good time. And sometimes, my students do too.
4.07.2010
2.23.2010
S L to the Cizzle yo!
As we made our way back from my brother's wedding in California an crested the hills out of western Utah, I saw an amazing sight. The lights of Salt Lake City burning dully through the brown smudge of smog. Ah, it's good to be home. I was so inspired by this sight that I wrote a new song. It goes to the tune of Oklahoma, like from the musical, not the football team. "SAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAALT Lake City, where the beer is only half as strong, and the lake sure stinks and the smog, it reeks, but I still like to call it HOOOOOME!"
2.17.2010
!!! or You all heard it here first
So we leave in about five hours to drive to California for my brother's wedding. I don't know what time it is there but it is about 11 pm here. Five hours from now is about 3am. 3 AM?!?! I don't even know what 3 am looks like anymore. Gone are the days of my carefree youth and five hour sleep cycle. If I only sleep five hours now, I am one grumpy teacher and grumpy teacher ain't pretty. I'm just not a young pup anymore. If I stay up too late, I pay for it. So now that I cant stay up late anymore, I should be able to get up earlier right? That's how getting older works isn't it? WRONG! So apparently, getting older for me means just getting lazier. And more tired. This does not seem fair to me. I think that if I have to give up my late nights, I should at least gain early mornings. It's only even. But nooooo. I go to bed at a reasonable hour like the good responsible person that I am* and I get my eight blissful hours of sleep. Yet, when the alarm goes off, it might as well be a surprise test of the emergency broadcast system. SURPRISE!!!! I AM BLARING HORRIBLE COMPUTER GENERATED RINGTONES INTO YOUR EAR! Nothing. I might as well be hibernating. I can remember my mom puling the covers off of me and threatening cold water on the first day of junior high. What kid sleeps through the first day of junior high? Unfortunately, they learn soon enough that they will wish they slept through junior high. Or there are those who WILL actually sleep through junior high. But I digress. So, now, I have this after FIVE hours no FOUR hours of sleep. This ain't gonna be pretty folks.
*My students and I have long agreed that modern socety is in desperate need of a sarcastic mark. Like a question mark but for when you are being a smart ass. W have even had discussion about what said mark would look like. How, in this age of facebook and sliced Wonder bread do we not have a sarcastic mark? Tell me I'm wrong. Because I'm not and you know it. Let me show you what I mean. Example text conversation:
You: So, I think we should train for a marathon.
Me: Yeah, ok
You: Really?
Me: No
Now, if after the yeah, ok I could just insert a little sarcasm mark, I would have eliminated two whole unnecessary texts thus saving me about 4.2 seconds of precious time. Do you see the importance of this? Amazing what you can do with 4.2 seconds. You could take like 3 steps or fart or even spit out your toothpaste. I'm telling you, this idea is going to make me famous. It will be the MsH mark. (I don't know ho to pronounce that either but we will make do kind of like that band called "!!!")
*My students and I have long agreed that modern socety is in desperate need of a sarcastic mark. Like a question mark but for when you are being a smart ass. W have even had discussion about what said mark would look like. How, in this age of facebook and sliced Wonder bread do we not have a sarcastic mark? Tell me I'm wrong. Because I'm not and you know it. Let me show you what I mean. Example text conversation:
You: So, I think we should train for a marathon.
Me: Yeah, ok
You: Really?
Me: No
Now, if after the yeah, ok I could just insert a little sarcasm mark, I would have eliminated two whole unnecessary texts thus saving me about 4.2 seconds of precious time. Do you see the importance of this? Amazing what you can do with 4.2 seconds. You could take like 3 steps or fart or even spit out your toothpaste. I'm telling you, this idea is going to make me famous. It will be the MsH mark. (I don't know ho to pronounce that either but we will make do kind of like that band called "!!!")
2.16.2010
Saturn and your anus or Turning 29
Oh yeah, I almost forgot. The purpose of posting today was to make a list. That was before I discovered the joy of tangents. I'm fond of lists. I like to make them and then immediately forget about them. This list is my 28 things to do before I turn 29. So, I have heard that 29 is the worst year of your life. From several sources. Supposedly Saturn comes out of your anus or something and I go crazy(er). Hence, the list. And it has a theme. It is titled, "28 Supposedly Semi Sane Things To Do Before I Go Crazy at 29." I have a month so I had to keep it simple. You understand.
1. Paint a wall in my new house bright green.
2. Find five more letterboxes.
3. Take a nap.
4. Clean my classroom.
5. Write a letter to someone who lives in a different state.
6. Paint a big painting.
Ummmmmm.......I'm running out of ideas. 28 is a lot of shit to do. And I'm not that motivated I guess. Maybe my list should be six things to do before I turn 29.
7. Go to Lava Hot Springs for a good sulfur soak.
8. Buy more plants for my classroom.
9. Hmmm......make my bed.
10. Sew a pillow
11. Get a massage
12. Write a haiku (I'm getting desperate here, can you tell?)
13. Read a whole book
14. Update my class blog
15. Find a photobooth and take some photobooth pictures
16. Have a housewarming/dinner party
17. 80s night at Area 51....throwback ya'll
18. Clean my car
19. Find something new and awesome to collect that no one else is collecting like vintage irons or something weird
Oh my God, there's still like 47 to go! I'm running out of ideas!
20. Eat at the Hi Hat Diner in Sunset
21. Make a pie from scratch
22. Eat some fruits and veggies(and Doritos or Sunny D do not count!)
23. Figure out how to teach Latin and Greek roots without putting my students to sleep
24. Light a candle at the Mary Tree
25. Draw the letter R in my alphabet series
I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. Damn! 29 sucks already!!!!! It's so many numbers! What am I going to do when I'm like 65? I can't think of that many things to do!
26. Get my drivers license back(apparently I am a failure at life and forgot to show proof of insurance in 2008 so now the state of utah is trying to steal my soul or something)
27. Do another dance in the woods and take a Polaroid of it
This is the last one, that means it has to be good. I don't work well under pressure. Actually, I work better under pressure that's why I never finish anything unless it has to be done RIGHT NOW but still, my point remains. I don't know if I can handle this much expectation. What to do? I know!.....
28. Watch the three original Star Wars movies!
This, my friends, is a bomb(as in THE bomb, or BOB-omb if you will, not dynamite) list. I do believe documentation is in order.
1. Paint a wall in my new house bright green.
2. Find five more letterboxes.
3. Take a nap.
4. Clean my classroom.
5. Write a letter to someone who lives in a different state.
6. Paint a big painting.
Ummmmmm.......I'm running out of ideas. 28 is a lot of shit to do. And I'm not that motivated I guess. Maybe my list should be six things to do before I turn 29.
7. Go to Lava Hot Springs for a good sulfur soak.
8. Buy more plants for my classroom.
9. Hmmm......make my bed.
10. Sew a pillow
11. Get a massage
12. Write a haiku (I'm getting desperate here, can you tell?)
13. Read a whole book
14. Update my class blog
15. Find a photobooth and take some photobooth pictures
16. Have a housewarming/dinner party
17. 80s night at Area 51....throwback ya'll
18. Clean my car
19. Find something new and awesome to collect that no one else is collecting like vintage irons or something weird
Oh my God, there's still like 47 to go! I'm running out of ideas!
20. Eat at the Hi Hat Diner in Sunset
21. Make a pie from scratch
22. Eat some fruits and veggies(and Doritos or Sunny D do not count!)
23. Figure out how to teach Latin and Greek roots without putting my students to sleep
24. Light a candle at the Mary Tree
25. Draw the letter R in my alphabet series
I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. Damn! 29 sucks already!!!!! It's so many numbers! What am I going to do when I'm like 65? I can't think of that many things to do!
26. Get my drivers license back(apparently I am a failure at life and forgot to show proof of insurance in 2008 so now the state of utah is trying to steal my soul or something)
27. Do another dance in the woods and take a Polaroid of it
This is the last one, that means it has to be good. I don't work well under pressure. Actually, I work better under pressure that's why I never finish anything unless it has to be done RIGHT NOW but still, my point remains. I don't know if I can handle this much expectation. What to do? I know!.....
28. Watch the three original Star Wars movies!
This, my friends, is a bomb(as in THE bomb, or BOB-omb if you will, not dynamite) list. I do believe documentation is in order.
...my weiner dog has a napoleon complex
Seriously. That's all I have to say about that.
Second. We are moving into a new house. About 500 dollars cheaper. See the house that's kind of dumpy with the random refrigerator in the yard? That's our new place. It's a fixer upper. And I gotta admit, I'm digging the idea of a challenge as far as house decorating goes. I have a cool place right now. It was cool before I got to it so there was not much I could do. It was a bit intimidating. That's why two years later, I still have not finished the painting I started in the hallway. But this new one....it is not cool to begin with. Well, not cool in the whoa, you live in an old warehouse with brick walls and rafters kind of cool. But a unique, has potential, smells like chihuahuas and old cigarettes kind of cool. It's something I can work with. I however am not a patient person and want to get in there and get started right now. But I have to wait until the end of the month, which is the one time each 30 days the good ol government blesses me with my daily bread. Which means my current residence looks a bit like the electronics and toy section of the thrift store right now. And I don't mean that in a good way.
And I started letterboxing. Which is awesome. Because I feel like a pirate hunting for treasure. Minus the wooden leg and eminent danger of course. When I found the very first letterbox we went looking for, I literally busted into dance moves in the middle of the woods. Is there anything better than dancing so hard you bonk your head on a tree limb and see stars for 3 weeks? No, there's not. Believe me, I know. So now I have a new hobby. Like I needed another one. Plus, surviving the wilderness of Wheeler Historic Farm is good training for when the zombies attack(see previous post).
Sometimes I wish my life was more interesting. So I would have something to blog about. Is that bad? Some days I wish I could log onto blogspot an write something like, "OMG I totally backflipped into a Hummer while doing wheelies on my Vespa today." Or something similar. But no. Instead I log on to write things like, "Today, I went over a scene summary of Romeo and Juliet and we decided to make the play into a Mob story like the Sopranos and gave all the characters Mob names like Jules and Benny and Mr. T." Well, maybe that's kind of interesting. But you know what I mean. Sometimes I wonder if I need a theme. Like a "Eat a different candy bar everyday and blog about it" kind of theme. Oh wait, I got it.....drink a different kind of beer everyday and blog about it. Now, that's something I can get into. The problem is, I know me. Most of the time. And I don't do good with goal setting and remembering and being organized and stuff. Hell, I'm lucky if I remember to brush my teeth twice a day. (Hey, I never said I wasn't disgusting). And makeup? Everyday? Right.....yeah that happens. HAHA!
Do you remember the teacher who rushed in at the last bell with a giant cup of sugared up coffee and wonky hair while digging around in her purse for the classroom key? The one who hauls a giant bag of grading home every night only to lug the exact same bag of UNgraded stuff back to school the next day? Yep, that's me. Hi, nice to meet you. That bag I mentioned is sitting on the floor right next to my couch as I type. I am in charge of the future. Don't you feel secure in the knowledge that I have the task of molding young minds? Sometimes I feel more like a mad scientist than a teacher. "Today, I'm going to give you this ball of clay, some sharp objects, a Magic marker and a copy of I Am The Cheese. Let's see what happens!" I think my favorite teacher phrase is, "Think of it as a creative challenge." Which is basically my way of saying, "I don't know what to tell you and have no answer for your question." or "I'm typing an unnecessary email, leave me alone." The great thing is, though, that I'm not just an English teacher, I'm an Art teacher. And everyone knows that art teachers can get away with whatever they want. "Hmmm, bright red hair, tattoos, vacant expression......you must be..... the art teacher." I gotta tell ya, I feel for you math teachers, you just don't get the freedom of....ahem....expression.....that us art teachers get. It's actually quite liberating. I can get away with moving my desks around every week. I'm the art teacher. "Oh, it's ok officer, I'm allowed to drive on whichever side of the street I want, I'm an art teacher." I am allowed to hang fifty million paper hearts from the ceiling. I'm an art teacher. I'm allowed to wear brown shoes with a black dress. I'm an art teacher. I can drink coffee all day and eat Cinnamon Toast Crunch out of a Ziploc baggie while listening to Blonde Redhead. I'm an art teacher. Wow, you know, I just realized how good I have it.
Second. We are moving into a new house. About 500 dollars cheaper. See the house that's kind of dumpy with the random refrigerator in the yard? That's our new place. It's a fixer upper. And I gotta admit, I'm digging the idea of a challenge as far as house decorating goes. I have a cool place right now. It was cool before I got to it so there was not much I could do. It was a bit intimidating. That's why two years later, I still have not finished the painting I started in the hallway. But this new one....it is not cool to begin with. Well, not cool in the whoa, you live in an old warehouse with brick walls and rafters kind of cool. But a unique, has potential, smells like chihuahuas and old cigarettes kind of cool. It's something I can work with. I however am not a patient person and want to get in there and get started right now. But I have to wait until the end of the month, which is the one time each 30 days the good ol government blesses me with my daily bread. Which means my current residence looks a bit like the electronics and toy section of the thrift store right now. And I don't mean that in a good way.
And I started letterboxing. Which is awesome. Because I feel like a pirate hunting for treasure. Minus the wooden leg and eminent danger of course. When I found the very first letterbox we went looking for, I literally busted into dance moves in the middle of the woods. Is there anything better than dancing so hard you bonk your head on a tree limb and see stars for 3 weeks? No, there's not. Believe me, I know. So now I have a new hobby. Like I needed another one. Plus, surviving the wilderness of Wheeler Historic Farm is good training for when the zombies attack(see previous post).
Sometimes I wish my life was more interesting. So I would have something to blog about. Is that bad? Some days I wish I could log onto blogspot an write something like, "OMG I totally backflipped into a Hummer while doing wheelies on my Vespa today." Or something similar. But no. Instead I log on to write things like, "Today, I went over a scene summary of Romeo and Juliet and we decided to make the play into a Mob story like the Sopranos and gave all the characters Mob names like Jules and Benny and Mr. T." Well, maybe that's kind of interesting. But you know what I mean. Sometimes I wonder if I need a theme. Like a "Eat a different candy bar everyday and blog about it" kind of theme. Oh wait, I got it.....drink a different kind of beer everyday and blog about it. Now, that's something I can get into. The problem is, I know me. Most of the time. And I don't do good with goal setting and remembering and being organized and stuff. Hell, I'm lucky if I remember to brush my teeth twice a day. (Hey, I never said I wasn't disgusting). And makeup? Everyday? Right.....yeah that happens. HAHA!
Do you remember the teacher who rushed in at the last bell with a giant cup of sugared up coffee and wonky hair while digging around in her purse for the classroom key? The one who hauls a giant bag of grading home every night only to lug the exact same bag of UNgraded stuff back to school the next day? Yep, that's me. Hi, nice to meet you. That bag I mentioned is sitting on the floor right next to my couch as I type. I am in charge of the future. Don't you feel secure in the knowledge that I have the task of molding young minds? Sometimes I feel more like a mad scientist than a teacher. "Today, I'm going to give you this ball of clay, some sharp objects, a Magic marker and a copy of I Am The Cheese. Let's see what happens!" I think my favorite teacher phrase is, "Think of it as a creative challenge." Which is basically my way of saying, "I don't know what to tell you and have no answer for your question." or "I'm typing an unnecessary email, leave me alone." The great thing is, though, that I'm not just an English teacher, I'm an Art teacher. And everyone knows that art teachers can get away with whatever they want. "Hmmm, bright red hair, tattoos, vacant expression......you must be..... the art teacher." I gotta tell ya, I feel for you math teachers, you just don't get the freedom of....ahem....expression.....that us art teachers get. It's actually quite liberating. I can get away with moving my desks around every week. I'm the art teacher. "Oh, it's ok officer, I'm allowed to drive on whichever side of the street I want, I'm an art teacher." I am allowed to hang fifty million paper hearts from the ceiling. I'm an art teacher. I'm allowed to wear brown shoes with a black dress. I'm an art teacher. I can drink coffee all day and eat Cinnamon Toast Crunch out of a Ziploc baggie while listening to Blonde Redhead. I'm an art teacher. Wow, you know, I just realized how good I have it.
1.08.2010
the coming zombie invasion
Every once in a while, in our mailboxes at school, we receive a catalog of classes offered at the community center. There's different things like knitting, powerpoint, cooking, etc. I always look at this catalog and think, you know I should really take advantage of this chance. The classes don't cost much, around 50 bucks and I could learn some new things. And then I forget about it.
Today we received a new catalog and our gym teacher pointed out that there were some new classes. "Ghosthunting." "Developing your sixth sense." And my personal favorite, "Surviving the Coming Zombie Invasion."
!!!!!
OMG, is that not the coolest thing in the whole world? My community offers a class on surviving a zombie invasion. YES!!!
This is amazing. This told me two things:
1. That I seriously must take advantage of this class. Who knows when this opportunity may arise again? If ever? I mean, if only for the experience and the ability to say that I have passed a course in zombie survival. I want to put that shit on my resume.
and 2. Who teaches these classes? Professors? Or normal janes like me? So me, a normal jane, could teach a class at the community center? Make a few extra bucks, get to teach a niche class of something I totally love? Oh hellz yeah.
This requires further investigation. I will keep you posted on the updates.
In other class news, I signed up for Style School. Which is taught by two bloggers I like to follow. The tutorials all look super cute. I'm excited to learn new things and adapt them and such. Sometimes I think it's funny that I love cute stuff so much. I am a huge fan of sparkles and paint and thread and Sharpies and glitter and cute little cartoon food items.........and zombies. And beer and hotdogs from the gas station and James Bond movies and Stephen King. It's an anomaly, I tell you. I have yet to figure it out myself.
I am big, loud and obnoxious, while wearing a cute headband.
Today we received a new catalog and our gym teacher pointed out that there were some new classes. "Ghosthunting." "Developing your sixth sense." And my personal favorite, "Surviving the Coming Zombie Invasion."
!!!!!
OMG, is that not the coolest thing in the whole world? My community offers a class on surviving a zombie invasion. YES!!!
This is amazing. This told me two things:
1. That I seriously must take advantage of this class. Who knows when this opportunity may arise again? If ever? I mean, if only for the experience and the ability to say that I have passed a course in zombie survival. I want to put that shit on my resume.
and 2. Who teaches these classes? Professors? Or normal janes like me? So me, a normal jane, could teach a class at the community center? Make a few extra bucks, get to teach a niche class of something I totally love? Oh hellz yeah.
This requires further investigation. I will keep you posted on the updates.
In other class news, I signed up for Style School. Which is taught by two bloggers I like to follow. The tutorials all look super cute. I'm excited to learn new things and adapt them and such. Sometimes I think it's funny that I love cute stuff so much. I am a huge fan of sparkles and paint and thread and Sharpies and glitter and cute little cartoon food items.........and zombies. And beer and hotdogs from the gas station and James Bond movies and Stephen King. It's an anomaly, I tell you. I have yet to figure it out myself.
I am big, loud and obnoxious, while wearing a cute headband.
1.03.2010
you know...
i like blogging. blogging is good for me. it's keeping up with blogging that i have a problem with. i read my favorite blogs every day, it's something i look forward to. but writing in my own is not something i am good at remembering to do. i guess i just get so caught up in stuff that i don't stop to write. not that it matters. my blog isn't for anything. it's not a blog about accomplishing a goal or anything. it's just random useless stuff. so maybe what i really like is the IDEA of a blog. a really cool one with witty, funny entries and nuggets of creative wisdom and pretty pictures and great ideas. i know what one problem is. i have no natural affinity for picture taking. good blogs seem to be as much about pictures as it is about writing. but i have never been the type of person who remembers to take pictures. i know people who carry their camera around in their pocket or bag just in case. i'm not even sure i know where my camera is. and sometimes i will think 'you know, i should bring my camera, just in case.' then it sits in my bag unused until i finally clean out my purse a month later and set it back on my dresser. i just never remember it.
anyway, here's to writing.
and a new year! i know that the new year is not technically a fresh start but it feels like it should be and that's almost just as good. because, really, who gets real fresh starts anyway? besides babies? whether you get out of jail or move to a new state or start a career or get out of rehab or whatever, you're still you. you still have the same ideas and thoughts and behaviors. maybe you learned your lesson, maybe you didn't. either way, it's never a for real fresh start. but seriously i think a fake fresh start feels pretty much as good as a real one would. therefore, i like new years. i don't really make specific resolutions. more like.....decisions. in my head. thought decisions. that go something like this. 'this year i need to try to be a more organized person.' that's it. no specifics. that way i don't get bogged down in the details. i leave wiggle room.
today i really cleaned the middle level of my house. i mean really cleaned. like went through all the cabinets and the bookcase. everything. it feels fantastic. like a faux fresh start should.
anyway, here's to writing.
and a new year! i know that the new year is not technically a fresh start but it feels like it should be and that's almost just as good. because, really, who gets real fresh starts anyway? besides babies? whether you get out of jail or move to a new state or start a career or get out of rehab or whatever, you're still you. you still have the same ideas and thoughts and behaviors. maybe you learned your lesson, maybe you didn't. either way, it's never a for real fresh start. but seriously i think a fake fresh start feels pretty much as good as a real one would. therefore, i like new years. i don't really make specific resolutions. more like.....decisions. in my head. thought decisions. that go something like this. 'this year i need to try to be a more organized person.' that's it. no specifics. that way i don't get bogged down in the details. i leave wiggle room.
today i really cleaned the middle level of my house. i mean really cleaned. like went through all the cabinets and the bookcase. everything. it feels fantastic. like a faux fresh start should.
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