did i say i would race something?

What I really meant was kick some irresponsible teenage ass.

Nothing about this day screamed "crazy" when I got to school this morning - no full moon, no impending holiday, not the end of the week, no hormonal imbalances. Yet I had students all day behaving as if they'd never set foot in a classroom before - strolling in late with food, throwing pens, talking only precisely when I started to speak, brushing hair, making phone calls. SERIOUSLY?

Then, at the staff meeting, my principal shared a letter from neighbors of the school who essentially concluded that our students ought to be housed somewhere far away from general society. Granted, some of our kids have foul reprehensible personalities issues and yes, they have been known to act like jackasses. Certainly those individuals will occasionally escape our eagle eyes and/or jurisdiction (we have an open campus at lunchtime because our building has no cafeteria facility). And really, some people will choose to be cretins no matter what the circumstance; as desperately as we try to teach them sense, we are destined to fail. Nature/nurture. Most significantly, however, there are other idiots not associated with our school who hang out and do stupid things in the area throughout the day.

But we sincerely want to be decent neighbors - a crew of kids goes up to the nearby burger joint each Friday to clean up around the place; a group from one of my classes collected garbage & recycling at the park last spring - and will bring this letter to our kids tomorrow. We will remind them that civilized human beings pick up after themselves and do not shout obscenities in public (which I personally will follow up by muttering "DUH"), and we will strongly point out that if our reputation becomes overwhelmingly negative, the building we hope for will not happen.

My mantra for tomorrow:
Be the change that you want to see in the world.

Thank you, Gandhi. Wondering if he said it through clenched teeth sometimes?

If you kick their asses, you will only hurt your foot.

for this i move

I will be participating in a walk for the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention on October 11. A student at my school has organized our team in honor of her friend who took his life last year. It will always be difficult to manage our thoughts & reactions to his decision but remembering his disarming smile and many gifts is simple, and doing whatever we can to prevent another loss to another family is the easiest thing.


I hope you can spare a moment to visit the AFSP site for more information and if you can spare a donation for our team, we Renegades - and future renegades - will be most grateful.


You know about my utter disdain repulsive reactions feelings toward exercise. But for kids, I will race the sun & wind.

the boy turns 10

Mason was dramatic, though considerate, from the beginning. I had contractions through most of Monday Night Football on September 28, 1998 but did not need to get myself to the hospital until 5:00 the next morning. And though he was born via emergency C-section, two weeks early at only 4 pounds, this kid has used that extra time wisely and made up for his size with vigor.

He couldn't wait to share a birthday with

Jerry Lee Lewis, Madeline Kahn, & Gene Autry

Sometimes a goofball

Often lost in thought

Mostly a goofball

Pyros bonding

A loving moment

Rockin' the pajamas & boots look

Happy birthday to you, my beautiful boy.

a good day to party

Word went out to recruits

(artwork by Paige)

Dog tags at the ready

Supplies gathered

Sacrifices made for the good of the crew

Say 'hello' to my little man
_________________________________

In an effort to be more Good Mom than Bad, I wore a camo shirt instead of my Cowboys gear, missed the first quarter of the game against the Redskins in order to pick up root beer and pretzels (the food of all good soldiers), painted faces during halftime, and cut the battlefield cake while Dallas fell apart. I'm sorry, 'Boys, but my boy came first today. And we tasted victory.

cool, brick, butch, hustler, doc ~ first class

Failure to communicate? I don't think so...

I'll do it; I'll jump.

We knew you'd grow up to be a hero.

Hustle me, please.


Always a classic

Beloved.

a most excellent day

Horoscope: If you are in the midst of a negotiation at work or school, someone will offer you a compromise today -- you should take it! A better offer is not likely to come along any time soon. Put this issue to rest and move on.

Guess what? My media carts (with document cameras, projectors, & awesome speakers all wirelessly, gleefully connecting to the computer) were delivered to BOTH of my classrooms this morning! JOY JOY JOY! But the best part? One of my colleagues, a delightful blend - visually and characteristically, actually - of Eddie Vedder and Jesus, remarked as I did my happy jig, "I noticed three men setting everything up for you, sooo...Which one did you have to...?" That provided a much-needed end of the week laugh. (And I'm not telling).

More excellence:

"Veronica" by Elvis Costello on the radio (a beautiful, bittersweet song)
Grande soy chai in my own pretty cup
Husband setting up rogue router for extra computer in my classroom
Secretary's precious & precocious puppy sniffing around the building
Confirmation call for hair coloring & cutting tomorrow morning

Friends from Seattle coming to visit

Husband-cleaned kitchen & bathroom (sink included!)

Girlfriend time starting...right...now

be wary, esteemed reader

I think Very Mary & I should have a spam smackdown - not only to see which of us gets more crapola like this, but also to find out whose letters have the more atrocious grammar. If my students never produce writing like this, I will be supremely satisfied. Highlights and parenthetical smart ass comments are mine. You are advice to read at your own risk.

Attention: Esteemed Customer,

This is to notify you about the statue of your fund right now on our desk (Is that kind of like an Oscar? I would actually like one of those...). The office of the Presidency in Nigeria, Forwarded and request that we pay you with immediate effect. After due vetting and evaluation of your payment file, from our findings you have been going through hard ways (You don't know the half of the hard ways I've been going through) which has been delayed. You are advice to prevent further communication with whichever third parties unless on our directives. We found out that you have meet up with the whole requirements regard the release of your funds payment, but your representatives in Africa (How did I get these?? Is Oprah somehow involved) and demand of unnecessary money. Whatever you do from now onward is at your risk for they are nothing but crook scammers (Thanks for the heads-up!).

The only thing required from you is to obtain Non-Resident Tax Clearance Form/Receipt which we are not asking you to pay the fee to us here in United Kingdom as the Government of Nigeria have paid us for handling/Cost of Transfer of your fund with other papers (This sentence wins the prize for Longest Incoherent Run-On Ever! Please to send reply of Okay in immediate circumstance). We will help you to see that you obtain the Clearance Form/Receipt here in Nigerian Embassy in London Annex Office so that our bank, Barclays Bank of London will effect immediate payment of your contract/inheritance sum. Will you follow up our directives, and your fund wlli (Huh?) reflect in your account within 2 working days from the day you obtain the clearance on Non-residential Tax. Note: You are been warned for impostors (Again, many thanks for having my back), Make haste and claim you're fund before we go on holiday.

Yours Faithfully,
Dr. John Camper
Head Claim Dept.
Barclays Bank Plc (Hey, are we bailing them out, too?)

some people

I am out of sorts a bit this week for only one good reason and lots of little mediocre reasons; I anticipate a dramatic turnaround once I spend quality time with friends & family this weekend.

One of the minor reasons I feel sketchy has to do with an unnecessarily complicated story about the school where I teach. Essentially, we are housed in an old building that we have made the very best of (I once taught a poetry class on the stage in the auditorium and moved tables, chairs, whiteboard and books every afternoon & morning - we are flexible people!) but are told by Those In Charge that we can't stay there much longer.

The original solution from Those In Charge? Move into a handful of portables behind a nearby elementary school. I get that portables are a given at most educational institutions in the nation now because of rising student populations and limited resources - but our entire school? There would be no common area for gathering before & after classes, no hallways where teachers can have more personal interactions with students; there would be muddy shoes six months out of the year and drafty, cramped classrooms.

But we found out recently that after looking over numbers and previous plans for other projects, Those In Charge found a significant amount of money available for us to use for an actual building. Good news! Well. If you're a reasonable, compassionate human being, it is. Apparently there are people on the school board and in the community who are not keen on the idea of constructing a new building for an alternative school. Someone even made a comment suggesting we're not worthy because we have students who commit suicide. Setting aside the fact that this is an extraordinarily crass thing to say, ever, I'm wondering if that individual honestly believes that no other schools have ever faced such tragedy. And does he mean to say such an occurrence precludes us from deserving a suitable teaching facility? Everything about that statement is sheerly asinine, and I can't help but think he spoke for many others in this community.

So. Our staff & students (and families, alumni, kind local businesspeople) are preparing a presentation for the school board and community members in which we must prove ourselves worthy of a building. On the one hand, we're delighted to show off the great work we do but on the flip side, it seems a tad ridiculous to have to explain why we need basic things like ample classroom space and hallways [and document cameras] to run a close-knit, effective school.

Here's to the grouchiness fading by the time I stand up in front of those people.

ponderings

My brain is all over the place today. Please respond to and/or answer any of the following random observations & questions. Or not. Free country.

• If a particular [promised 4 weeks ago] item is actually available to set up in my classroom, one should either promptly bring that item [upstairs] to my classroom or accept assistance in getting it [upstairs] into my classroom. Conversely, if a particular [promised 4 weeks ago] item is actually not in existence, please tell me that instead of pretending I will eventually get that item.
• Is it wrong to eat an entire jar of Kalamata olives in one sitting?
• Yesterday, when we were renting Mason a trombone (yes, we did), I was just about to ask "Do you want to give your trombone a name?" when my boy looked at me and said "I'm trying to think of what to name it." Who knew band geekiness was genetic? (It's Buddy, by the way)
• My 8-year old daughter is phenomenal at Wii Fit hula hooping. Worry now?
• Which ring of Hell am I relegated to when I pray that certain students will stay home?
• When will I finally plan meals more than ten minutes a day in advance? I genuinely enjoy cooking, I think I'm relatively intelligent about nutrition & balance, I know I can design a lovely presentation, yet I always develop a throbbing headache when I sit down to think about what to eat for dinner each day. Tell me this happens to everyone. Everyday.
• At what point do I have to stop thinking my body really is a wonderland? Just curious.

so much for positive thinking

I just want to watch the hottie young Bob Geldof all day...

to do

What a teacher* does on Sunday:

• Wear Cowboys t-shirt to church
• Pray for various students during worship
• Begin doing copious amounts of laundry
• Watch non-Cowboy games in between loads of laundry
• Enjoy soy chai latte brought by neighbor (Thanks, Dave!)
• Polish dining room table
• Cut hydrangeas for dining room table
• Dust livingroom
• Sweep & vacuum downstairs
• Swap out kids' seasonal clothes
• Quick trip to Goodwill to get basket for Wii components
• Vacuum upstairs
• Delight over sweater & long pants options this week (it's finally truly Fall!)
• Beg husband to make dinner as Cowboys' game begins
• Promise to thank husband profusely
• Write lame blog post in between game plays
• Deliberately not think about lack of inspiration for Tech class tomorrow

*Does not represent the view of all teachers

poets who don't know it

Yesterday was our first 'real' day of the Poetry unit in Freshman English. For many, it was extraordinarily painful. I tried to ease them into the whole thing by generating a discussion about our favorite words on Thursday - how they sound, what they mean, the way they feel coming out of our mouths. That went well [meaning, not disastrously inappropriate].

Friday, then, I handed out pictures I'd cut from magazines along with strips of interesting words. Each person had to choose at least 8 words that remotely matched the picture (they could trade amongst themselves or pull different ones from the bowl). Then I had them create a poem incorporating the words they chose.

The drama. The moaning. Groaning. Gnashing of teeth.

I assured them that they could do it; no one, in fact, had ever died/exploded/imploded/suffered an aneurysm from putting together a poem. (As far as I know). I encouraged them to move the strips of words around on their desks, group them together in a variety of ways, even write a few sentences about the picture first. I drew tall narrow rectangles on some people's papers to help them structure their poems - putting only a few words on each line to get away from writing short stories (that's the next unit).

Finally:

The graceful butterfly flew into the silver
painted mailbox and got himself trapped.
He was all alone in a distant delirious place.
~ Christopher

The sickly polluted smoke silently
slithers through the air in a
black cloud. It pollutes our earth
as man does nothing to save it,
courage is what we need, for this
disaster to go away, or else
we will all crash and burn.
It is like the seasons are
giving us a warning.
~ Anthony

The breeze is pure
The voice is pure
The zebras stare
Quietly in the bleary picture
It looks stormy
A hidden desert
Is hard to endure
~ Taylor

It has always been reality
that women are devoted to
purses
Love, intense obsession, ridiculous
purses are overrated
There's dark ones bright ones
they're dreadful
the ugliest one I've seen
had a rose on it
~ Lauren
_________________

What a pleasant & promising way to end the week, wouldn't you say? (Unless you're the poor purse with a rose on it).

and it was good

1. There is no need for hysteria. Ever. I'm serious.

2. Where in the heck did the minutes vanish to?

3. Keep the smile on & the sweat off my face is all I managed to do.

4. Prospects for a date night with my man are promising (right, honey??).

5. "Know Thyself" is the message.

6. Simplicity and tranquility are what it's all about (aka, "The Hokey Pokey for the Teacher's Soul").

7. And as for the weekend, tonight I’m looking forward to a night out with my man (?!?), tomorrow my plans include distributing lunches at our local lake clean-up and Sunday, I want to ...you know... [watch football!].

Friday Fill-Ins around the world.

special requests

Because I'm lazy and have nothing else to say today some people have asked nicely for this & that, I would like to comply.

Here is one of the "classy" fly traps we have hanging in a [vain] attempt to capture the insects plaguing us. Happy update: Fewer flies lately, and even though they're not being caught by the traps, it does mean nothing is actually rotting in my house. (I hate that I even entertained that possibility).

Poor little denigrated kitchen goddess...

CoffeeYogurt requested a look at our Cobra that we drove up to Stu's sort-of reunion last weekend. I can't find any with us looking all cool sitting in it, so you'll have to enjoy this shot from our driveway.

My man does good work, no?

Then someone requested video of me with my new Wii Fit and Mel, a Dramatic Mommy challenged me to a Hula Hoop contest but I'm not quite ready for that kind of prime time so I'll let you go here. Trust me, it's a much better option [not outrageous, but probably not for work viewing].

And no one in particular asked for any eye candy but I thought it was time.

Mr. Fantastic, indeed...

nuzzling

Borough Market, London

photo by Stu, 2008

It's Weird Wordless Wednesday!

daniel x marks the spot

Mason & I were chosen by MotherTalk to review the newest young adult novel by James Patterson, The Dangerous Days of Daniel X. It is his latest attempt to entice reluctant readers into the wonderful world of books - last summer I got to review one of his installments in the Maximum Ride series and found it an adequate joy ride for the young teen set.

This story is definitely aimed more at the boys, as is obvious by the darkly alliterative title. We decided to use it as our bedtime book (Paige wanted in, too; she likes to roll with the wild ones now & again) and immediately recognized parallels to our favorite Boy Who Lived, Harry Potter. Daniel is orphaned as a toddler by evil forces that kill his mom and dad then discovers he is not a Muggle Human but rather has supernatural powers and must fulfill a quest to destroy the forces that murdered his parents. However, Daniel doesn't acquire friendly mentors nor does he set off to join other young magical friends but instead goes solo as a vigilante alien hunter.

As in his other young adult books, Patterson relies heavily on teen slang and hip pop culture references to establish voice in his characters. My kids thought this was pretty cool, which is fine because they are the target audience, but I found it somewhat desperate ("I really AM a fifteen-year-old boy! Seriously! I know about rappers and stuff!") and it left me wondering about the novel's shelf life - in a few years, Shia LeBeouf will [hopefully] be a more mature grown-up actor, which will make him unknown and/or boring to new tweenage readers.

Another trait I've noticed in Patterson's writing is his desire to sneak in references to environmentalism. Daniel slyly remarks about pollution, global warming, recycling, and the importance of taking care of Nature. Certainly not a downfall, but it makes the main character sound less like a young Batman-on-a-mission and more like a young Green Party candidate.

The overall storyline is definitely interesting despite its sci-fi Harry feel at the opening. Daniel has the fascinating, and sometimes poignant, ability to conjure people from his past; they behave independently of his thoughts and can be of comfort as well as protection to him. We very much felt close to Daniel and wanted him to win the day. The wicked aliens out to defeat him are indeed nasty creatures, though the head baddie has an English accent and a professor's vocabulary; we could never quite figure that one out (maybe another bizarre nod to J. K. Rowling's dynasty - a Dumbledore from the Dark Side?).

In the end, we decided The Dangerous Days was worth our summer nights and hope to see Daniel X around the universe again. Go ahead & give him a spin.

result of brain drain (and impending football game)

It's an Easy-Bake blog post!
(Thanks to my very loyal childhood friend, Ariane)

Two Names You Go By:
1. Stephanie
2. Mrs. Spencer

Two Things You Are Wearing Right Now:
1. a watch
2. Cowboys t-shirt

Two Things You Want Very Badly At The Moment:
1. Pepsi
2. A long weekend

Two Things You Did Last Night:
1. watched football
2. drank wine

Two Things You Ate Yesterday:
1. turkey & Swiss sandwich
2. chicken artichoke pizza

Two People You Last Talked To:
1. Mason
2. Paige

Two things You're Doing Tomorrow:
1. teaching
2. staff meeting
(I know - thrill a minute lifestyle I lead)

Two Longest Car Rides:
1. Oak Harbor to Texas
2. Oak Harbor to Ohio
(There was something fundamentally wrong with my dad & his insistence on driving vacations...)

Two Favorite Holidays:
1. Christmas
2. my birthday (oh yes it does count)

Two Favorite Vacations:
1. London/Paris/Amsterdam
2. Disneyland with kids, best friends & in-laws

Two Favorite Beverages:
1. black tea
2. soy chai latte

The End.

Feel free to offer your armchair/laptop psychoanalysis. I might pay you later.

national directive

I've decided to proclaim this:
The day preceding & day of a full moon are to be void of any major decision-making tasks and/or relatively meaningful work.

I have been incapable today (the day preceding a full moon) of coming up with a grand refiguring of my Technology class (who, again, determined I would be the right person for this job?? Oh right, it was me. Must have been a full moon...), nor did I do a reasonable job of finishing grading blogs, watching the entire Seahawks game, directing my husband to the right restaurant where I ordered pizza, washing all piles of laundry in the hallway, or working out on my new Wii Fit.

Stupid [mystical, beautiful] full moon.

I live in fear of tomorrow at school, frankly.

so nice to hear

After being dissed by a student (he had claimed he was unable to work on his computer because it was making a disturbing noise that I probably didn't notice "because old people, like 40 and stuff, can't hear certain sounds anymore") and having the Wii Fit proclaim me 73 in fitness years [I demanded a recount and, once I actually read the instructions for the balance test and did it correctly, was recalibrated to 51; still not stellar but at least not geriatric], I was ready for some mental love. Thankfully, the universe complied in the form of these gracious people:

"NO WAY you're 40, Mrs. S! I totally thought you were, like, still in your thirties." Sincerely said by a more thoughtful student countering the other little jackass young man.

"You are an angel for them." From our wholly angelic school custodian & all-around lovely person Vickie, after I told her about how superbly my freshman English class went Friday afternoon.

In the midst of discussing my role as teacher to teenagers, the delightfully frank Jason, a former classmate of Stu's at his reunion party, said something to the effect of "All your male students are surely in love with you." Which is both flattering and distressing, and the reason I carefully choose my outfits (and words) every single day.

[Right now I have to give a hearty, loving shout-out to the other reunion attendees who kindly chatted with me last night: adorable Ralph, wonderfully sweet Kelly and her charming husband Lenny. You rock! Thanks for keeping my eyes from glazing over, even after four Lemon Drops]

People inspecting the Cobra in a parking lot: "It is a beautiful car, and you guys look really good in it." Very nice and a relief to hear because sometimes the way my hair whips around, I figure I look like a complete goon.

"By the way, those shoes are award-winning." Spoken by a darling young man in Starbucks about my Goodwill suede Franco Sarto flats with the silver buckle. (His boyfriend seemed unimpressed, however).

And then this showed up from Texan Mama:

She is a true sunny, funny, and happy delight; it's an honor to be chosen by her for this badge. I will pass it on to the inimitable Mrs. G at Derfwad Manor for her bright optimism, always snort-worthy humor, and happiness with a capital H. It is a treat to be in such good company.

I know, I'm so vain. I probably think this post is about me.

seriously, TGIF

1. I enjoy Burgerville sweet potato fries (and the man who brings them to me on demand).

2. How can I help make school more inspiring and/or less like a root canal is something I wonder about often lately.

3. In your heart, you knew the way to San Jose (whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa).

4. Take orange juice, add a little Stoli and you end up with vitamin C that packs a punch.

5. Life has gifted me with a brilliant & beautiful family.

6. #4 (above) is an instant vacation.

7. And as for the weekend, tonight I’m looking forward to Stu's informal 20th HS reunion, tomorrow my plans include grown-up hijinks south of Seattle and Sunday, I want to begin a love affair with my new Wii Fit (I chose the male trainer!)!

The Fill-Ins, they are so good for you.

praise

None of my students were older than middle school on September 11, 2001; my own children were only a year old and almost 3. Yet I share this poem on this date because I want them to understand the significance of the tragedy. I might never know how much it helps to illuminate not only the devastation of lives & families, but also the invidual beauty of each life lost; I can only hope someday it is clear. I think all of us somtimes forget how much we really mean to the people around us, even if we're not rich or famous - or even if we are. Each of us matters, and somebody is noticing.

by Martin Espada (Thank you)

Alabanza: In Praise of Local 100

for the 43 members of Hotel Employees and Restaurant Employees Local 100, working at the Windows on the World restaurant, who lost their lives in the attack on the World Trade Center

Alabanza. Praise the cook with a shaven head
and a tattoo on his shoulder that said Oye,
a blue-eyed Puerto Rican with people from Fajardo,
the harbor of pirates centuries ago.
Praise the lighthouse in Fajardo, candle
glimmering white to worship the dark saint of the sea.
Alabanza. Praise the cook's yellow Pirates cap
worn in the name of Roberto Clemente, his plane
that flamed into the ocean loaded with cans for Nicaragua,
for all the mouths chewing the ash of earthquakes.
Alabanza. Praise the kitchen radio, dial clicked
even before the dial on the oven, so that music and Spanish
rose before bread. Praise the bread. Alabanza.

Praise Manhattan from a hundred and seven flights up,
like Atlantis glimpsed through the windows of an ancient aquarium.
Praise the great windows where immigrants from the kitchen
could squint and almost see their world, hear the chant of nations:
Ecuador, México, Republica Dominicana,
Haiti, Yemen, Ghana, Bangladesh.
Alabanza. Praise the kitchen in the morning,
where the gas burned blue on every stove
and exhaust fans fired their diminutive propellers,
hands cracked eggs with quick thumbs
or sliced open cartons to build an altar of cans.
Alabanza. Praise the busboy's music, the chime-chime
of his dishes and silverware in the tub.
Alabanza. Praise the dish-dog, the dishwasher
who worked that morning because another dishwasher
could not stop coughing, or because he needed overtime
to pile the sacks of rice and beans for a family
floating away on some Caribbean island plagued by frogs.
Alabanza. Praise the waitress who heard the radio in the kitchen
and sang to herself about a man gone. Alabanza.

After the thunder wilder than thunder,
after the shudder deep in the glass of the great windows,
after the radio stopped singing like a tree full of terrified frogs,
after night burst the dam of day and flooded the kitchen,
for a time the stoves glowed in darkness like the lighthouse in
Fajardo,
like a cook's soul. Soul I say, even if the dead cannot tell us
about the bristles of God's beard because God has no face,
soul I say, to name the smoke-beings flung in constellations
across the night sky of this city and cities to come.
Alabanza I say, even if God has no face.

Alabanza. When the war began, from Manhattan and Kabul
two constellations of smoke rose and drifted to each other,
mingling in icy air, and one said with an Afghan tongue:
Teach me to dance. We have no music here.
And the other said with a Spanish tongue:
I will teach you. Music is all we have.

no no no

Chinatown, San Francisco

photo by me, 2008

See, hear, speak no evil at Wordless Wednesday

dirty word

My friend & fellow teacher Monica brought this most perfect gift to me today. I immediately displayed it on my whiteboard, which I realize is a very bad example for my students, but so is the fact that I went to Amsterdam this summer and loved it (I have not, however, disclosed any of my activities, other than walking through the Red Light District). I think it's beneficial for teenagers to know the weaknesses & moral failings of grown-ups occasionally.

The sad fact is, though, turning 40 did somehow flip a fat switch in my body and now my formerly acceptable lifestyle of eating brie & bread with wine after 10 pm along with doing absolutely nothing remotely aerobic very little physical activity is quite unacceptable. So says any given pair of pants in my closet that now squeezes my thighs oh-so-gently, and my midriff which would like to give a shout-out regarding its fun new jiggliness.

Considering I refuse to change my nightly indulgences while watching The Sopranos (or new fave Mad Men), nor do I relish the idea of paying actual money to jump around & sweat in front of other people, possibly parents of students or the students themselves (I have an image to uphold - see above paragraphs), it looks like my only option is to lobby for a Wii Fit. I need something to hold me accountable (it charts stats; I also read somewhere that it will chastise me if I haven't worked out for awhile) that doesn't look or sound like a cheerleader (can I make my Wii instructor resemble Gael, I wonder?) and is available any damn time I feel the urge to exercise. Which will be shortly after I attempt to get dressed each morning.

I guess I'll start having chocolate for breakfast.

*magnet available at Retro Planet

bugged

Normally I don't get too wound up about bugs, even if they find their way into my space. Unless I can actually hear them skittering across the floor or they happen to be large enough for a saddle, I try to gingerly scoop them outside or just firmly shoo them away.

However. We have had a fly problem that I tried to pass off as a product of leaving doors & windows open for the fresh summer air, but even after Stu put up some very classy traps, the fiends remain. And let me tell you, that oft-perpetuated "fact" about flies only living 24 hours is completely erroneous; these monsters can survive at least two weeks (and up to 30 days! Noooooo), during which time they will reproduce like the Osmonds. My house resembles that scene in The Amityville Horror when the flies swarmed menacingly & relentlessly around the priest. I simultaneously want to scream, swat my own head to a pulp, and whack maniacally at their nasty little winged bodies. I am terribly sorry if one of them happens to be a mad but kind-hearted scientist; I will crush him.

Sooo, BBQ at our house this weekend?

the best song in the world

Even though some so-called friends grumble & groan about it, FOOTBALL SEASON IS UPON US! <--that is Cowboy blue, fyi. I say Glory Hallelujah, don my lucky shirt [and underwear], forego a shower and station myself with chips & tea (I forgot to stock up on Cherry Pepsi) and the Sporting News Pro Football magazine in front of the TV. Bliss.

Please do not be offended when I don't answer your call, or your knock at the door. (I know you know I can see you through the window but there is no moving from the couch unless a commercial is on).

My children are also neglected so don't take it personally.

wonderful world

Make a Smilebox slideshow

friday happy dance

Janet was so smart and gave us song lyrics for

today's Friday Fill-Ins. Yay!

1. If I was to walk into your life, would you please praise me for making the effort to exercise?

2. Catch a bright star and place it in the brain of key students....

3. And you can send me chocolate anytime (even if it's a disarming shape).

4. Feel free to try sucking up to me, but I'm dealing with a memory that never forgets.

5. I'm the innocent bystander / Somehow I got stuck in the middle of teenage phone drama.

6. What's keeping us apart isn't selfishness, it's lack of ability to focus (we won't point fingers).

7. And as for the weekend, tonight I’m looking forward to Movie Night with girlfriends, tomorrow my plans include sleeping way in then doing "SOMETHING FUN" with my kids, and Sunday, I want to watch FOOTBALLLL!

nonsensical nostalgia

Mason brought home a burning desire to rent a trombone and be in Band; Stu asked why he didn't want to play the piccolo instead because you can carry that instrument around in your pocket, like the magic flute in H.R. Pufnstuf. I immediately became wistful for that admittedly very weird but somehow fantastically fun show while Stu derided it as ridiculous.



After trying to find an episode featuring Freddie Flute to show the kids (no luck; sadness), we jumped to Dr. Shrinker then The Bugaloos, Banana Splits, and finally landed on Swedish Chef skits from The Muppet Show. I loved all of those shows dearly though, excepting the last one, for no good reason. It is truly awful ilk; I can't help but wonder what the actors from those shows are doing now, and do they tell anyone what they did in the 70s? "Nice to meet you. I look familiar? Well, I did once play a rock-n-roller fairy in a magical forest!"

The good news for our nation's future: My kids only lost their minds laughing at Swedish Chef and want the DVD collection for Christmas. Maybe I really am a good mom after all.

But I still love to sing the theme songs of all those terrible Sid & Marty Krofft shows...La la la, la la la la, la la la, la la la la.

Tomorrow, we explore the genius of The Monkees.

and then my head exploded

Sculpture by Guy Ferrer, Paris

photo by me, 2008

*post title dedicated to katydidnot

Wordless Wednesday, a work of art

welcome back

Homework on the first day of school:

1. If you are a new teacher using the classroom of a teacher who doesn't have a first period class, how many times will you be asked before & during 1st period "Where is Mrs. S??!" before you lose your mind (and feel totally unwelcome)?
2. Multiply the number of students in any given class by 47 to compute the total of attempts made to sit in the new teacher's comfy chair, situated behind his desk in a corner of the room.
3. Using the number of attempts to sit in the comfy chair plus what you know about Mrs. S's OCD nature, decode the following message: G_T _HE F_ _ K _U_! (I did not actually say all of those words. Out loud).
4. Find the difference in degrees Fahrenheit between the school's foyer, my classroom, the computer lab, and the teacher's lounge.
5. Illustrate the bewildered expression on students' faces when told their teacher got a tattoo during the summer.
6. Compare & contrast: What students think their teacher did in Amsterdam & what their teacher actually did. (This picture notwithstanding).
7. Determine the probability of having the Technology students' computer passwords by the 2nd day of school. Chart the likelihood at 3, 4, and 5 days into the school year.
8. Develop a curriculum for the Technology class that does not involve computers.
9. Create a graph measuring how many hours of sleep per individual were obtained against the number of minutes it took for returning students to discover the 12 foot x 4 foot chalkboard on the classroom's front wall was replaced by a whiteboard. (YAY, thank you, Ms. H & maintenance dudes!)
10. Respond: Who do I scr*w to get the document camera & projectors where I need them tomorrow? (I got my principal in a little trouble with that question last year but this time I really am scheduled to get these things, it's just a matter of when. I'm prepared to speed up the process).
    

ATTENTION!

Chocolates at Albert Cuypmarket, Amsterdam

photo by me, 2008

People who are without words are here.

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I'm feeling a little goofy today. It's the last gasp of summer vacation; tomorrow I start back to school. Essentially, I'm ready to begin again yet it still feels like being at the top of a rollercoaster - yes, I love it I love it, but WAIT there's one more thing I need to do! And there is no waiting.

So I post a picture of chocolate penises (which I am kicking myself for not buying - if only to hear the undoubtedly hilarious Dutch word for 'penis').

Imagine what I might post tomorrow to deal with the stress of my first day...