spielberg meets howard

After the much-acclaimed release of "Store Fight," Mason was requested by his former co-director's younger sibling to help with the following masterpiece.

Please sit back and enjoy this heartwarming 12 second rendition of "Sweeney Todd."

written, designed, directed, produced by Mason & Kylen
stunts, voices, sound effects by Mason & Kylen

loosely based on the play by Christopher Bond,

musical by Steven Sondheim, and film by Tim Burton

bah, humboy

I know where my son gets his sense of drama (Bad Dad, of course) and his clever wit (yours truly), but the way he latches onto the negative side of anything [Disneyland: all a big fake-out; pizza: melted cheese burns mouth] is puzzling.

Yesterday, we drove downtown to watch the tree lighting at Esther Short Park. On the way, I tuned in the radio station that plays Christmas music all the time. Wacky optimist that I am, this seemed like a most pleasant way to spend the evening - wandering around the park on a crisp night, enjoying some activities with friends, listening to local musicians, squealing for Santa. No. The Young Cynic wondered, loudly & in a crabby tone, why people bother putting lights on such a huge tree and who cares about seeing it light up? Plus, how will we find our friends in such a big crowd? What KIND of activities will there be and will they even be FUN?

But the most troubling part of this very poorly planned outing? When people mess up Christmas songs by changing the tune or singing the words in a "weird" way, or WORSE - making up stupid stuff like girls wishing for only one present and that's A BOYFRIEND. (Okay, I have to admit it is a corny concept but I can't help singing along with Mariah...).

We finally made it to a parking space without me having to slam on the brakes more than once and/or tape his mouth shut (though I did turn the radio up to ear-bleeding level for The Beach Boys' "Frosty the Snowman"). As we entered the park, friendly elves handed us candy canes; Mason attempted gaiety when I reminded him that he is now old enough to stay in a locked car by himself immediately.

The Ghost of Teenage Christmas Future

A surprise appearance by our favorite balloon guy EVER

Not Your Average Joe tames the grouchy beast

Face painting seems to help

(though he did first request a savage-looking Santa)

Paige, far more silver-lining than her brother

In person, the tree was not at all blurry.

Happy Moms

(We're thinking about our Saturday night getaway...)

May your holidays be bright

(not blurry, unless you want them that way)

and may all your Christmas songs make sense.

[noisy] tidings of good will

Messenger Boy

photo by Stu @ 9:00 a.m., Thanksgiving Day, 2008

grateful

I am from Laundromats,

from Clorox, All Temp-A-Cheer, and wooden clothespins.

I am from the single-wide trailer with a splintery porch,

a closet-sized bedroom and paper-thin walls.

I am from the crooked apple tree in front and bushy wild rhubarb in back.

I am from the flea market after church and forever bargaining,
from Grandpa Doc & Grandma Minnie, and the Parkers in Texas.

I am from the glasses by junior high and gray hair by 21;

From elbows off the table and chew with your mouth closed.

I am from the Church of the Nazarene each Sunday,

Jesus Loves Me and clay pigeon candle holders;

From bookmarks for memorizing Genesis through Malachi.

I’m from Dutch immigrants, oliebollen and Waldorf salad.

From the times Grandpa went AWOL, Hey Mr. Bakery Man!

and stories about sleepwalking.

I am from shoeboxes in Grandma's cedar chest,

filled with pieces of gold & silver

disguised as photos and letters.

Happy Thanksgiving, wherever you are & wherever you're from

originally posted 11/26/07

holiday at the equator

Raffles Hotel, Singapore

photo by me, 2006

Merry Wordless Wednesday

twittery facebookishness

Bad Mom is having a raging headache with earache chaser.

Bad Mom is hoping for quick relief from the 2 1/2 acetaminophen tablets that were best used by 12/06.

Bad Mom is attempting to organize a schedule for cleaning the entire house, making banana bread, finishing laundry, and grocery shopping. Tonight.

Bad Mom is trying not think about the mess being made by three wildly giggly girls upstairs.

Bad Mom is actively not looking directly at her kitchen.

Bad Mom is grateful her husband offered [with very little harassing prompting] to pick up pizza on his way home from work.

Bad Mom is mentally preparing herself for the necessary-but-highly-unpleasant-sounding mammogram tomorrow.

Bad Mom is looking forward to a long solitary lunch with her iPod and Ann Patchett book after tomorrow's appointment.

Bad Mom is thankful for all of the people who (curiously) find time, energy, and interest to keep following her blog.

wanna bet?

Thanks to all of your encouraging thoughts, prayers, supportive comments, mojo, juju, whatever you sent my way - the young Anakin & I had a pleasant encounter today. This is how it ended:

This is progress, people. That signature alone is done in the best handwriting I've seen from him.

(Don't tell, but I think I might just bring him a generous handful of mints if when the Cowboys win this week).

failure to communicate

We only have two days of school this week due to the Thanksgiving break. The most interesting thing about a very short week like this is that, contrary to what one might expect, lots of kids actually show up - those who value education and take school seriously; those who have little hope for education yet take school seriously as a safe place away from home; and those who can't be bothered to think much of education and take school only as seriously as their social circle merits.

Those who value education are relatively easy to enjoy; they do what we teachers ask because they have a work ethic, they trust us to give meaningful assignments, and they want to graduate. Those with little hope are usually easy, too, doing what we ask because they like us and don't want to lose their place at our school, and occasionally they surprise themselves with success. Those in the last category are obviously the most difficult since my job with them becomes more than making lessons relevant, it also includes extensive, exhaustive management (confiscating phones, keeping people in/out of the classroom, intercepting notes and/or nonverbal messages, defusing drama).

One of my students seems to be at a crossroads between having little hope and deciding education is worth less than certain friendships. This kid has been in a class of mine during four of the last five quarters; he most recently talked his way into Literature with me even though he hates books and anything remotely related to books, including looking directly at them. I take it as a great compliment that he spent time trying to convince us (and himself) that he should be in this class. And though I did not expect that we would have smooth sailing, I have been sadly surprised by his behavior. It has become clear that I'm not only competing with his dislike of The Catcher in the Rye, I am the Rebel Alliance to his friend's Evil Empire. When this student is on his own in class, he uses the Force for good - participating [begrudgingly, but still] in discussions, finishing assignments, thinking. But when a certain Palpatine-like person sits next to him, this student succumbs to the dark side. He slouches, he scowls, he pretends he doesn't have an opinion about why Holden picks everyone apart and cusses all the time. It is supremely disheartening.

Friday, everything I did in an effort to reach this kid went wrong; whatever I intended as a positive interaction was taken as a slight, an insult, a slammed door. I know, intellectually, it is not my problem that he makes poor choices or disregards my counsel; it's not my problem that his parents might pay little attention to him; it's not my problem that he's angry at the world.

I am making it my problem to keep trying to reach him though.

I hope he decides to come to class this week; I will test my Jedi mind trick skills.

the next spielberg & lucas

"Store Fight"

written, designed, directed, produced by Mason & Liam

stunts, voices, sound effects by Mason & Liam

cluttered kitchen backdrop by Bad Mom

we interrupt tonight's regularly scheduled post...

There was homemade ice cream & cookies

Mints & Mona Lisa
(We were at Ice Cream Renaissance...Get it?)


But best of all - Ladies Who Blog
Lia, Lisa, Shana, Holly, & moi
(photo by best friend Jen)

reality bites, and cries, and swears...

The lovely ExMi (short for Expensive Mistakes & Cheap Thrills) tagged me a million years ago to participate in the Real Mom Meme. The idea is to have lots of mom-bloggers add a link to a post in which they discussed a particular trait of Real Motherhood. I like it, and I'm finally getting around to doing it (so I am #8 if you're in the same kind of Thursday funk that I am and need really clear direction...)
___________________________

1. Real Moms don’t flinch when they talk about boobs. They do make you laugh your brains out.
2. Real moms go on vacation and learn to play traffic cop.
3. Real moms brag about their kids.
3. Real moms do not mince words when they present the truth.
4. Real moms juggle.
5. Real moms “resist the guilt and embrace the journey.”
6. Real moms don’t give a damn to media generated Mommy Wars.
7. Real moms have kids with potty mouths.
8. Real [bad?] moms creatively modify discipline techniques.
Tagged people insert your good stuff here.

And I tag these smart real moms:

Lisa, Mama Milton

Shana, So Not Zen

Suzanne, The World According to Suz

Kate, katydidnot

Texan Mama, Who Put Me In Charge of These People???

JCK, Motherscribe

Jenn, Juggling Life

plus any of the other brilliant women I know are out there reading...Join in the fun, spread the Real Mom words.

___________________________

The rules:
Copy the above text to your blog, leaving all links in tact, and add in who tagged you.
Add your ‘real mom’ contribution to the list.
Tag as many moms as you can.
And meme-ify! [I think that's like 'multiply' in cyberlanguage]

stories

At the Wordstock teachers' workshop a couple of weeks ago, one of my brilliant I-want-to-be-him-when-I-grow-up instructors helped with characterization by having us write:

___________ is the kind of person who ____________.

We had to come up with one negative and one positive trait that would illuminate our character. I wrote "Jake is the kind of person who smokes on campus even when the principal's watching" and "Jake is the kind of person who visits his grandmother every weekend." I was amazed at how simple yet effective this exercise was - this kid I created in my mind just minutes before was suddenly taking moral shape, which is usually much harder to establish than physical shape. I wanted to write more about him! And I wanted to write about everyone around me...

In the creative writing class I'm teaching, I have already given this assignment. It was hard for students to go beyond the obvious at first - when I asked them to make up a statement about me, they started with "Mrs. S is the kind of person who wears a green sweater." I asked what that tells about my character; we agreed not much. I think they were a little nervous about using me as an example, which is understandable, but I prompted them with questions - How do you think I talk to my kids? Where do you think I shop? Who do you think I stalk at grocery & video stores? (KIDDING) They finally settled on "Mrs. S is the kind of person who notices lots of little things." Which we determined is good and annoying, but mostly good.

Now try not to do this the next time you're standing in line somewhere.

the new look of imminent poverty

Important foreboding back story: At the Camas Educational Foundation auction last month, my dear & darling husband lovingly purchased a shopping party for me at the delectable boutique Lily Atelier; it included two $75 gift certificates (one for the clothing area & one for the shoe section), 20% off purchases for a year, AND cocktails from our bartender friend Dave. Money toward my school district PLUS pretty clothes, shoes & drinks? The only downside seemed its being scheduled during Monday Night Football...

Fast forward to last night when I showed up to shop. Let me just say I first felt a tad out of place in my typical teacher-after school garb of jeans, cardigan & loafers, then I had a touch of angst about price tags since I am usually the ultimate Goodwill Queen and Garage Sale Maven. I'm not at all against paying for quality, or paying more for items I will wear frequently, but the first couple of sweaters I touched were dry clean only, upwards of $150 each, and made in China. While I don't begrudge other countries making a buck, I am opposed to helping support a potentially unfair work system, but that is for another post. After wandering (and drinking a bit), I managed to uncover some made in USA (and Canada & Spain, good enough) items I could not resist.

To avoid making this short story any longer, I'll cut to the chase: Pair of fancy shoes + Two smoothasbutter shirts + Pants [being hemmed] guaranteed to make me teach better + Lacy underthings - $150 certificates - 20% off = $Ican'tevenbringmyselftotellyou.

But look how pretty.

I felt very Grace Kelly all day.

If anyone snags, stains, or otherwise corrupts these babies, heads will roll.

So, if I suddenly stop writing this blog it means I've used my 20% off coupon and have been forced to take a second, possibly third, job to pay for my "bargains." Wish me luck, one way or another.

things funny & sad

Please direct your attention to my neglected A-Lister blog for Things That Are Funny & Things That Are Sad. You decide which order you prefer...

The rerun is because I am tres fatigued from a shopping party (pictures of the haul tomorrow).

P. S. Thank you, former Secret Boyfriend (back when he reminded me of Joey Harrington and was seriously aloof)/continued Favorite Bartender Dave, for the always-fantastic cocktail & the handy texting lesson. And for complimenting my shoe choice; your man-pinion helps Stu not hyperventilate over their cost.

boys of the hour(s)

'Twas a good day in the Bad Mom household...

Sweet-faced rookie Martellus Bennett

makes the play of the day

with a spectacular grab for the go-ahead TD

Marion Barber III wins for Most Reliable Running Back,

Fabulous Hair, and Stunning Cheekbones


Tony, Tony, Tony
Back from a broken pinky with flair


Big Jay Ratliff speaks for Cowboys fans everywhere

To those of you who just read "blah blah blah Cowboys," thanks for hanging in with me. Only 6 9? a few more weeks...

And then the Super Bowl.

the wily literature teacher

On Monday, I went to Blockbuster feeling particularly hot confident in my Standard Teacher Outfit of tasteful plaid skirt + heather grey tights + dark grey GAP sweater + high [for me] black heels. None of that is meant to imply I had any intentions other than to feel special in the presence of Geeky Cute Video Expert Guy (GCVEG).

BUT! I had a few extra minutes and truly wanted some advice about a movie that resembles the themes of Catcher in the Rye; this quarter's literature students are far more cynical about the novel than last spring's and I need something that really drives home the significance of a story about teenage alienation (as though these students have no idea how to identify with such a concept; argh). Who better to query than my favorite nonresponsive GCVEG?

I asked if he has seen Chapter 27; I figured the title is a reference to Catcher since the novel ends at chapter 26, and the movie follows Mark David Chapman's obsession with John Lennon and Holden Caulfield. GCVEG has not seen Chapter 27 (and actually thought it was about bankruptcy; I've already forgiven this as well as his guess that the author of Catcher was Steinbeck instead of Salinger - starts with an S, close enough) but he proceeded to offer other suggestions. Color me genius-like as I responded to each with "Yes, I thought of that, too, but it's rated R." I could show an R-rated movie but it requires parent permission forms and those make even ME roll my eyes...And if a kid doesn't bring one by the day I want to show the movie, I have to call the parent at home or work OR come up with an alternate assignment. Life is easier if I can just find a PG-13 movie.

Anyway, I think I finally convinced GCVEG that I am not [simply] a bourgeois, classless, Sopranos-loving lame ass. He promised to think about other possibilities and let me know the next time I come in.

And then I invited him to my classroom.

hilarity (or stupidness, depending on how many drinks you've had)

Nevermind how old lame antisocial unconventional this evening sounds, it is in actuality SUPER FUN. My neighbor/best friend Jen & I have been drinking enjoying each other's company since right after school early evening and are currently (9:06 p.m. PST) feeling particularly spunky sans children (mine are at home with THE BEST HUSBAND EVER and hers are, well, upstairs doing something...).

So far we've thumbed through the latest Entertainment Weekly (me), looked at random friends on Facebook (her), discussed Jesus, made fun of people on Facebook, asked for forgiveness, laughed like 8th graders, spilled drinks, acquired new drinks (BEST HUSBAND EVER), eaten glazed croissants (husband again), forgotten to watch Tivoed "30 Rock" episode, looked up pictures of Kid Rock (we were hoping there would be one JUST ONE of him looking classy; the answer is no), watched Britney Spears videos, laughingly mentioned "plot" in relation to Britney Spears videos...

You're jealous, I know.

Next time, we incorporate Jen's new built-in webcam.

for the love of...

It seems like a reasonable time to list all the great things about my job (translation: I am having more frequent fantasies of booting various teenagers in the ass and/or heading straight to a bar at 2:01 tomorrow).

1. Students who ask frequently if they can please be in my classes
2. Students who request book suggestions, don't grimace about every title I point out, and actually check out the books I recommend
3. Students who are following The Catcher in the Rye enough to provide insightful comments (example: "I think Holden picks other people apart because he's really lonely and doesn't like himself." Wha?? Who are you and what have you done with my sophomore?)
4. Students who are writing nose-to-comp-book for 10 entire minutes during prompt time, without complaint
5. Lunch with only grown-ups
6. My classroom heater still works most of the time
7. My radiant space heater still works all of the time
8. No active leaks around my windows
9. The new 14-pack of dry erase markers in assorted colors (though I do deliberate a tad long each time I want to write something)
10. Students who pop into my room to say "hi" after school while waiting for parents to pick them up
11. Students who offer music recommendations (without first remarking on my awful, old-person taste)
12. Students who sincerely compliment my shoes, sweaters, and watches
13. Smiling faces, especially from the ones who I know would much rather be skateboarding or drawing or smoking at any given moment
14. Weekends are far more meaningful

catzilla vs mayberry

Wordless Wednesday will take over your day

blessings, part 2

Mason has been on a mission lately to visit our local Army/Navy surplus store. Personally, I had no idea where our local Army/Navy surplus store might be; I have no real burning need for canteens or camo gear. But my son, of the military-themed party/everyday life, does have real burning needs for all things war-related, so he went online and found Andy and Bax in Portland.

Saturday, he called them to inquire about their stock of helmets. The man who answered the phone patiently explained the various types available, their prices and accessories. He invited Mason to come down and take a look around.

After today's blissful morning (admittedly inspired by my bribe of "Be nice to your sister, clean your room, generally do whatever I ask without sulking and/or complaining and I will take you to Army dude nirvana"), we headed down to Andy and Bax.

I'm going to keep linking to this store because they were so repeatedly kind to my boy, I want everyone to visit them for all outdoor adventure needs. These guys were not only helpful on the phone, they also directed Mason to what he was looking for when we arrived. They gently waited while he counted out his saved-precisely-for-this-occasion allowance monies. And, when he came up 60 cents short of the cost of a long-sought dummy grenade, the clerk suddenly remembered to apply a discount. I don't know who was more pleased with the transaction - the boy with Mission Accomplished or the mom with renewed faith in the generosity of strangers.

That kind of customer service is hard to find these days. I would never have thought twice about a store like Andy and Bax, being the strictly indoor adventure kind of girl, but you can bet I'll remember it anytime someone needs a pup tent, or a gas mask, or maybe just wool gloves.

blessings

I was proud to stand in the rain Saturday morning, to watch my Boy Scout march and to honor the veterans who have served as well as the men and women who continue to sacrifice on my behalf. Today I offer another salute of thanks.

Thank you, Dad. Thank you, Grandpa. Thank you, Doug.

Thank you, Amy and April and Narvie and Lee.

Thank you, friends, students, and teachers, past & present.

And thanks to Mr. Brady for his thoughtful mission.

As I pray without ceasing, so I also am grateful without end.

Bless you all.

dilemma

My makeup sponge turned up in my 10-year old son's bedroom this afternoon. As he retrieved it for me he first said he "forgot" why it was in there, then he amended that to a puzzling, "I was just playing with it."

So. An innocent goofball kid game, preteen explorations of gender identity, or a creepy Oedipal thing I don't want to entertain further?

Discuss. But gently, please.

for your viewing displeasure

I know I can choose to turn the channel or even switch off the TV, but I still can't shake the knowledge of nonsense going on and, worse, other people absorbing it into their psyches.

Shows I've heard of lately (besides the unfortunately renewed Denise Richards: It's Complicated - no, It's Nauseating; she's confused) that make me roll my eyes and/or begin to weep:

Rehab: Party at the Hard Rock Hotel - Because I need further reason to think I'm inadequate and missing out on massive fun in Vegas?

Live Like You're Dying - It's essentially the Make-A-Wish concept (except MAW don't require children to be terminally ill in order to grant wishes) but somehow making it into a reality show seems morbid; there will be shamelessly copious amounts of sad music and manipulative soft focus shots, I just know it. [Edited for clarity: This show is produced by Survivor's Jeff Probst and has no association with Make-A-Wish - it just wants to grant an extravagant last wish to individuals who are diagnosed with only a few months to live]

True Beauty - Really, they seriously think we'll believe Tyra Banks knows what the hell true beauty is? Please.

However, I have to say I am intrigued about Keyshawn Johnson: Tackling Design. A retired football player (former Cowboy even) becoming an interior designer? Now that is freakin' original, if not fascinating. It's about the coolest hobby revelation since Rosey Grier and his knitting & needlepoint. And nothing about it makes me want to cry for the future of America.

*Comic from Mr. Toast; a very good idea.

home of the brave

Make a Smilebox slideshow

And then I sent her shopping

Sorry folks, The Woman is not here right now and you bloggers know that the world will collapse if there is not a new post every day here at Bad Mom Central.

Stephanie had a grand plan to hang out with the girls tonight. Jen and Lisa could not hit the town tonight so we settled in at Jen's for pizza. After pizza there was mention of shopping (and groaning from Jen, she does not crave mall air like my wife does). I shooed them out of the house and Mason and I cozied up on the couch to watch the Simpson's Movie (he just made the age in our house when you can watch the Simpsons). Our girl is on a Girl Scouts camping trip so it was me and the boy watching our favorite yellow dysfunctional family. It was fun, just me and my boy.

The Woman just got home so I need to go. Maybe I can benefit from her shopping trip giddiness...

-Stu

hard eight

The girl & I have had something of a week.

Sunday my daughter spent six hours at a friend's house after church - a super fun thing until bedtime when all the wacky good times came grinding to a halt and I DON'T WANT TO HAVE DINNER/TAKE A SHOWER/GO TO BED/GET UP FOR SCHOOL TOMORROW/WEAR A JACKET.

Monday there was evening sadness when P was upset about something 8-year-old-important and her brother made a mournful sad trombone sound on his actual trombone; she further lost her mind, he kept poking, and everyone lost out on reading Harry Potter together for the night.

Yesterday as I was heading to have tea with my best friend, P complained that no one will play with her at recess. Now, my girl is not a dancing social butterfly but I've never known her to be rejected by anyone; even the boys across the street will ask her to join them in their hijinx, and not because she's the last resort. I asked why she thought no one wanted to play with her and she explained that others had chosen activities she didn't really want to be a part of; I asked what she did during recess then and got this: "Welllll, actually so-and-so did this with me...I guess it was...okay..." And because that didn't seem to be enough of a tearjerker for me, she added "But then no one [names kindergarten friend group] would let me do anything." Huh. They're all in charge? Did you tell them what you wanted to do? "They just kept talking and didn't listen to me." That is a drag; what did you end up doing? "I don't know. It was fine...Anyway, see you later." She squealed and bolted off as some friends came up the sidewalk.

Today, I asked how recess went. Big sigh; "It was okay, I guess." Did you play with C [a new friend in her class]? "No, she always stays in during recess." How about H [a friend from our neighborhood whom she's known since birth]? "No, she always plays soccer." S [a very close friend since 1st grade]? "No, she says she HAS TO play with Kevin all the time." Why does she think she HAS TO play with Kevin? "Because he's HER BOYFRIEND." Um. [THEY ARE EIGHT] Tell her your dad is MY HUSBAND and I don't play with him all the time. *snicker* What about O [another old friend in the neighborhood]? SIGH. "She always says we have to do whatever she wants to do. It gets really annoying." Understandable. Hmmm. We sit quietly for a minute. "HEY, can we go to the Book Fair?" Life is beautiful.

Fast forward three hours. We had a bunch of errands to run, homework to finish, dinner to eat, and a suitcase to pack for her weekend Girl Scout camping adventure (Book Fair was tentatively a plan if we could get everything done before it closed at 8:00, and there was no mention of it after 5 p.m.). At 7:35 I invited her to come with me to drop off her camping stuff with the troop leader and return some videos. Big fun, off we go. On the way to Blockbuster, she asked if we could rent a kid movie; I answered not today since she will be gone for two days and wouldn't be able to watch it [before we got charged $578 in late fees]. Mild sadness. Then, as we left the parking lot at 7:45, "So are we going to the Book Fair now?" Uhhhhhhh. Technically, we probably could have gotten there with a few minutes for shopping, which is likely what sent her into a galactic crying fit that lasted until, well, probably tomorrow morning.

I love this girl to pieces, I'm just wondering - if things are this nutty now, do I get a pass when she's 13?

joy

Century Park, Shanghai

photo by me, June 2005

Wordless Wednesday

but i kind of wanted to stay up late...

All day I've felt like I do when I'm on a rollercoaster, like I do when the Cowboys are in the Super Bowl - there is utter excitement about the situation that is slightly tempered with a feeling of "what if?" What if the car bolts off the track? What if my team suffers a devastating injury?

'Cautiously optimistic.' Polls and pundits and predictions signaled Barack Obama's win but I dared not think directly about it. I almost engaged in the superstitious nuttiness I display on game days - not showering, wearing every bit of team gear I own, gluing myself to every move made by the players - but I did not; I chose the opposite strategy of deliberately showering (even loofahing), wearing no blue, and forcing myself to stay away from NPR until after 4 p.m.

To be honest, I have never disliked or even distrusted John McCain; I admire his integrity as a man, I am grateful for his service to our country, and I've found him to be an extraordinarily gracious gentleman in his defeat tonight.

I look forward to our country emerging in the next four years as a renewed force, with renewed energy & spirit, in this world.

God bless us all.

Welcome, Mr. President

skewed results

I was compelled to take the "Is Your Life Balanced?" quiz at iVillage this afternoon, because I was feeling particularly unbalanced after racing from my classroom to attend a PTA meeting then racing home to check in with my son-who-forgot-to-stay-after-school then doing random little things around the house (making dinner not one of them, because I was stumped into paralysis; THANK YOU, HUSBAND!) until I decided to take the quiz, write this post, and race back to my classroom for our Open House. Apparently this is me:

________________________

Even Stephen

You are one of those rare adults with a firm grasp on her priorities.

Even though you put others first, you are fluent in the subtle art of compromise and know exactly when to cut yourself some slack.

_______________________

And then everyone familiar with me laughed uproariously.

Let's just say I know how to take a test.

retro rollin'

I genuinely love rollerskating with all my heart. When I was a kid, we had the Roller Barn - a real old barn converted into a roller rink where I spent many a weekend afternoon skating with friends, eating gobs of junk food, & pining for cute boys.

Yesterday I stepped back in time at our local Golden Skate - this time my kids were my friends, they ate junk food bought with their own money, and I didn't have to pine long for my cute boy.

The universal rental counter,

complete with circa 1981 cool skates poster

Anticipation in tan size 7

It's not worth $6 without a disco ball

"YMCA" is always at the ready

Pause for manna

Rink refs, the coolest of the skating nerds

(This one resembled the cute Mac Guy)

[I am NOT stalking him, or else I'd have had a front shot]

This guy I was stalking

but he skated by too fast for a decent shot.

Or not...heh.

Me & a boy worth pining over

The roller rink - in the end,

it's all about love

like, totally, whatever.

Hello?? Best senior portrait ever.

Okay, you can stop taking pictures now, gah.


Goody-Two-Boots, Sassy Go-Between, Scary-Rocker-Girl
(Me, Monica the Social Studies Teacher, Amy the Principal)

Do we not have the coolest high school in the world?