Tuesday, February 14, 2006
Monday, February 13, 2006
Joyce
My step-father's mother died on Saturday. She was a great lady. My mom married my step-father, Stewart, when I was 15, my sister was 17, and my brother was 21. So, along with a new daughter-in-law, Joyce got three grown grandchildren. She accepted us without question and hen-pecked us like we were her own. I remember that every Christmas she sent us each a fifty dollar bill in an envelope marked with our name in quotes. For six years I got envelopes marked with "Valerie." Then when I got married, they were marked with "Valerie and Ross." Always in quotes-it never failed. And if I didn't send a thank you note immediately, boy did I hear about it.
Joyce got sick a little over a year ago and they didn't give her very long to live. Eventually she refused treatment and decided she just wanted to be at home and go her own way. She spent the last few weeks going over with my mother exactly what she wanted for her funeral, down to the menu from Ukrop's to be served at the house after the service. She even bought herself some new underthings and a new pair of shoes to go with the dress she wore to my wedding, her outfit of choice to be buried in. She was a no-nonsense woman in every sense of the word. She didn't sugar-coat much and the coming of the 21st century did very little to change her way of doing things. I miss her very much, even though we didn't see her very often after she got sick.
I did my best to call my mother often to check up on her and Stewart as they got things sorted out. It was good to hear her laugh about some of the things they found in her house (apparently she had quite a collection of dirty books-gasp!). The service is on Wednesday. My hubs has never been to a funeral before. I tried to explain to him what it was like, but all I could say was that it's something that you just do. You don't want to be there, but you don't *not* want to be there, either. And one doesn't rejoyce at the fact that he/she is quite accustomed to going to funerals, like I am.
Regardless, I hope we do things that way she would have wanted us to. I hope I have the presence of mind to be as specific with my loved ones as she was. I've talked to so many of my co-workers who have had to makes plans for their family members who never wanted to talk about what should happen when their time comes. Not that Joyce would have had it any other way-she always knew what she wanted and I hope we do well for her on Wednesday.
Joyce got sick a little over a year ago and they didn't give her very long to live. Eventually she refused treatment and decided she just wanted to be at home and go her own way. She spent the last few weeks going over with my mother exactly what she wanted for her funeral, down to the menu from Ukrop's to be served at the house after the service. She even bought herself some new underthings and a new pair of shoes to go with the dress she wore to my wedding, her outfit of choice to be buried in. She was a no-nonsense woman in every sense of the word. She didn't sugar-coat much and the coming of the 21st century did very little to change her way of doing things. I miss her very much, even though we didn't see her very often after she got sick.
I did my best to call my mother often to check up on her and Stewart as they got things sorted out. It was good to hear her laugh about some of the things they found in her house (apparently she had quite a collection of dirty books-gasp!). The service is on Wednesday. My hubs has never been to a funeral before. I tried to explain to him what it was like, but all I could say was that it's something that you just do. You don't want to be there, but you don't *not* want to be there, either. And one doesn't rejoyce at the fact that he/she is quite accustomed to going to funerals, like I am.
Regardless, I hope we do things that way she would have wanted us to. I hope I have the presence of mind to be as specific with my loved ones as she was. I've talked to so many of my co-workers who have had to makes plans for their family members who never wanted to talk about what should happen when their time comes. Not that Joyce would have had it any other way-she always knew what she wanted and I hope we do well for her on Wednesday.
Wednesday, February 08, 2006
Who <3's Math?!?!?!?!?!?!
My school does, that's who! Last night we had our very first "We Love Math Night." We enticed families to the school with $3 dinners consisting of Olive Garden spaghetti, salad, and breadsticks. Then, after stuffing their faces, we wowed them with the fun that math can be. There was a raffle and prizes and candy abound! We had a great turn-out and the parents really got into helping their kids out with the activities. My group taught the kids about tanagrams and we had just as many parents playing with them as kids. People were jumping up and down and yelling when they solved the puzzles. It was so great to see the kids in a less formal setting and to just get to play with them. I will confess that I spent a considerable amount of time racing through the halls with some of my students. Don't tell the principal! I know they won't-I gave them hush money. And by hush money, I mean hush-Milky Ways. Sigh, it was a great night-one of those that makes me pray that I have a huge flock of rambunctious, math-loving boys one day. I mean, I'm married to one already.
Sunday, February 05, 2006
The nakeds
Friday was the first Friday of the month, so as per semi-usual, Ross and I made our way out to Broad Street to get some free access to what the Richmond art world has to offer. But that night we had a particular destination: Gallery 5. I'm sure it was your destination as well, considering half a Richmond was there to see one particular exhibit: NAKED PEOPLE!!!!
Ross and I had been hearing about this exhibit for a while, via his connections with Patchwork Collective who is BFF with the Gallery 5 director. As soon as we heard about it we knew we would have to go-it would guarantee to be a night full of awkward situations and Ross and I looking at each other and whispering, "OHMYGAHHHHHHHHD!!!"
There was a decent line when we got there around 7:30. Once we made our way into the building, we stopped to watch Matt White of Patchwork conduct his improv jazz/rock/tunrtable/etc. esemble. The DJ even made Ross a balloon hat. The, FINALLY it was time to go stare at nudes and be immature. After standing for 30+ minutes in line composed of people who either wanted beer or wanted to see naked people (the bar and stairs to the exhibit were right next to each other-poor planning indeed), we triumphantly made our way up the stairs. And there they were: The nakeds.
They were posed atop pedastles, sheerly painted with various designs, trying to not look at the people who were trying to not seem like pervies as they looked at them. There were various parts everywhere, and it seemed that no one knew where to look. The thing that made me laugh was how quickly people circled through the exhibit. Cause I mean, when you look at a painting or sculpture, you can stand and stare, lean in a little to get a better perception of texture or stroke. But, if you did this it would just make everyone feel uncomfortable. Maybe that was the point. I dunno. But I *do* know that when we left the building, the line had gotten INsanely long, almost wrapping around the building. What can you do? Richmond loves the nakedness!
Ross and I had been hearing about this exhibit for a while, via his connections with Patchwork Collective who is BFF with the Gallery 5 director. As soon as we heard about it we knew we would have to go-it would guarantee to be a night full of awkward situations and Ross and I looking at each other and whispering, "OHMYGAHHHHHHHHD!!!"
There was a decent line when we got there around 7:30. Once we made our way into the building, we stopped to watch Matt White of Patchwork conduct his improv jazz/rock/tunrtable/etc. esemble. The DJ even made Ross a balloon hat. The, FINALLY it was time to go stare at nudes and be immature. After standing for 30+ minutes in line composed of people who either wanted beer or wanted to see naked people (the bar and stairs to the exhibit were right next to each other-poor planning indeed), we triumphantly made our way up the stairs. And there they were: The nakeds.
They were posed atop pedastles, sheerly painted with various designs, trying to not look at the people who were trying to not seem like pervies as they looked at them. There were various parts everywhere, and it seemed that no one knew where to look. The thing that made me laugh was how quickly people circled through the exhibit. Cause I mean, when you look at a painting or sculpture, you can stand and stare, lean in a little to get a better perception of texture or stroke. But, if you did this it would just make everyone feel uncomfortable. Maybe that was the point. I dunno. But I *do* know that when we left the building, the line had gotten INsanely long, almost wrapping around the building. What can you do? Richmond loves the nakedness!
Wednesday, February 01, 2006
Don't Fall in the Hole!
The pipe has been fixed! We have water! We have a hole big enough to bury someone in our front yard! I have never been so happy to see caution tape in my life. The wonderful folks over at Kelleher came and fixed us up today. They had to make the hole bigger, and we'll probably have to call them back to replace the entire pipe later on, but we're set for now. The hole is still there and I've decided to look at it as a monument to our experiences in homeownership.
While I was lying in bed last night, I was thinking back to all of the "catastrophes" we've had in our house since we've moved in. By the grade of God, they started out very small, just to break us in. Allow me to recap.
1. First day: The pilot light on the water heater goes out. We have no clue what to do. We call my stepdad, the boiler specialist. He tells us to light the pilot light. It takes two more phone calls for us to realize that he means that we actually need to use fire to light it.
2. Light downstairs flicker every few minutes. We think it's a major electric issues. My father-in-law tells us we just need to replace the breaker. He was right.
3. A few months later, the upstairs toiet starts leaking. We wait many weeks before doing anything, and opt to just stop using that toilet. Eventually we get it fixed by Jack, a very flaky but very nice plumber.
4. Jack to the rescue again. After Chris Wolf goes under our house, we discover that we have a leak pouring out the equivalent to a bathtub full of water everyday. Jack patches it up, and pretties up our crawl space while he's at it.
5. Water heater cracks. Jack replaces it within days, and cleans up our water heater closet. We start to think he should be our maid, too.
6. Water spot appears on the ceiling in the back bedroom. We promptly call the roofer people. They fix it. So now we just need to coat the ceiling with Killz. Yeah, like that'll happen.
7. This week's saga of the busted pipe.
As you can see, God has been merciful, adding to our load just a tiny bit each time, instead of starting us off with a whammy. Hopefully this will be it for a while. And if not, I know we have awesome friends/family/Jacks to get us through.
While I was lying in bed last night, I was thinking back to all of the "catastrophes" we've had in our house since we've moved in. By the grade of God, they started out very small, just to break us in. Allow me to recap.
1. First day: The pilot light on the water heater goes out. We have no clue what to do. We call my stepdad, the boiler specialist. He tells us to light the pilot light. It takes two more phone calls for us to realize that he means that we actually need to use fire to light it.
2. Light downstairs flicker every few minutes. We think it's a major electric issues. My father-in-law tells us we just need to replace the breaker. He was right.
3. A few months later, the upstairs toiet starts leaking. We wait many weeks before doing anything, and opt to just stop using that toilet. Eventually we get it fixed by Jack, a very flaky but very nice plumber.
4. Jack to the rescue again. After Chris Wolf goes under our house, we discover that we have a leak pouring out the equivalent to a bathtub full of water everyday. Jack patches it up, and pretties up our crawl space while he's at it.
5. Water heater cracks. Jack replaces it within days, and cleans up our water heater closet. We start to think he should be our maid, too.
6. Water spot appears on the ceiling in the back bedroom. We promptly call the roofer people. They fix it. So now we just need to coat the ceiling with Killz. Yeah, like that'll happen.
7. This week's saga of the busted pipe.
As you can see, God has been merciful, adding to our load just a tiny bit each time, instead of starting us off with a whammy. Hopefully this will be it for a while. And if not, I know we have awesome friends/family/Jacks to get us through.
Tuesday, January 31, 2006
We have no water. But....
we have access to a Temurpedic (sp) mattress. Last night my hubs was very brave. With the help of some of our wonderful friends and my fabulous father-in-law, a hole was dug in our front yard, exposing the leaky pipe. Digging started at 5pm and ended at 1am. They tried to fix the pipe, but with no success. So, after the many hours of working, all of our wonderful helpers went home, took showers to wash off the mud, and went to bed. Ross just went to bed. Neither one of us slept a wink the rest of the night. I arose at 6:30, called my assistant principal to tell him I needed a sub today, and left my dirt, crusty, wonderful husband to go make lesson plans for the day.
I returned just before 8. Ross and I then loaded up a bag with shower necessities and headed over to my in-laws' house. Conveniently, they moved into the house last weekend, but don't live there yet. After taking showers and finally brushing our teeth, we settled in for a long winter's nap on the best mattress in the world. I slept until 3 and didn't move once.
Now we're back at home, spending quality time with the dogs, and packing up clothes for tomorrow. We will return to the in-laws' tonight. A plumber is scheduled to come tomorrow. It was a horrible night last night, but I've realized that we are very blessed to have people willing to give of their time and homes to help us out. Hopefully everything will be back to normal and not caked in mud by the end of the week!
P.S. A huge thanks to all of the boys who came to dig up my yard last night. You guys are amazing!
I returned just before 8. Ross and I then loaded up a bag with shower necessities and headed over to my in-laws' house. Conveniently, they moved into the house last weekend, but don't live there yet. After taking showers and finally brushing our teeth, we settled in for a long winter's nap on the best mattress in the world. I slept until 3 and didn't move once.
Now we're back at home, spending quality time with the dogs, and packing up clothes for tomorrow. We will return to the in-laws' tonight. A plumber is scheduled to come tomorrow. It was a horrible night last night, but I've realized that we are very blessed to have people willing to give of their time and homes to help us out. Hopefully everything will be back to normal and not caked in mud by the end of the week!
P.S. A huge thanks to all of the boys who came to dig up my yard last night. You guys are amazing!
Monday, January 30, 2006
Blue.
As of now, I've been in a rut for about 2 weeks. I don't want to be at work. I don't want to be at home. I don't want to be anywhere. I don't want my job anymore, but I'm not qualified to do anything else. I look into getting qualified and get overwhelmed by the logistics of doing so. Things make me happy for a short time, and even when they do, I'm just a little happy. I don't particularly want to be around anyone. I try exercising to get my energy up, but it really just makes me tired and even more cranky. It seems like during times like this, more and more mess gets piled up on me than usual. Even the slightest hiccup in my day puts me on the verge of tears. But I'm sure it's just that I'm more sensitive now. I'm on meds for anxiety, and they are basically anti-depressants as well. I guess every now and then even they can't give me the seratonin I need to perk up. Oh well. I'm sure tomorrow will be better.
Saturday, January 28, 2006
Four Things
MaxPower over at Haduken tagged me for this, so I might as well contribute. So, here we go, here we go now.
Four jobs I’ve had
1. 5th grade teacher
2. Nanny
3. Student Assistant at the UR Curriculum Materials/Technology Center
4. Architectural Archives worker at UR Architectural services
Four movies I can watch over and over
1. Jaws
2. Silence of the Lambs
3. Anchorman
4. Big
Four places I’ve lived
1. Grayland Avenue, Richmond, VA
2. Ellwood Avenue, Richmond, VA
3. University of Richmond (Lora Robins, South, and North Courts), Richmond, VA
4. Two Notch Ct., Brandermill, Midlothian, VA
Four TV shows I love
1. Made
2. Curb Your Enthusiasm
3. Lost
4. Campus Ladies
Four places I’ve vacationed
1. Ashland
2. Dominican Republic
3. Mexico
4. Chicago
Four of my favorite dishes
1. Cafeteria pizza at my school
2. Chicken quessadilla and fiesta potatoes from Taco Bell
3. Club sandwich on toasted wheat, no tomatoes, with fries at Perly's
4. Peanut butter toast
Four sites I visit daily
1. RVABlogs
2. Haduken
3. Imdb
4. The Superficial
Four places I would rather be right now
1. Domincan Republic
2. In the shower
3. Bed
4. At the Creehans'
Four bloggers I am tagging
1. Sister
2. Brother
3. Maura
4. Kate
Four jobs I’ve had
1. 5th grade teacher
2. Nanny
3. Student Assistant at the UR Curriculum Materials/Technology Center
4. Architectural Archives worker at UR Architectural services
Four movies I can watch over and over
1. Jaws
2. Silence of the Lambs
3. Anchorman
4. Big
Four places I’ve lived
1. Grayland Avenue, Richmond, VA
2. Ellwood Avenue, Richmond, VA
3. University of Richmond (Lora Robins, South, and North Courts), Richmond, VA
4. Two Notch Ct., Brandermill, Midlothian, VA
Four TV shows I love
1. Made
2. Curb Your Enthusiasm
3. Lost
4. Campus Ladies
Four places I’ve vacationed
1. Ashland
2. Dominican Republic
3. Mexico
4. Chicago
Four of my favorite dishes
1. Cafeteria pizza at my school
2. Chicken quessadilla and fiesta potatoes from Taco Bell
3. Club sandwich on toasted wheat, no tomatoes, with fries at Perly's
4. Peanut butter toast
Four sites I visit daily
1. RVABlogs
2. Haduken
3. Imdb
4. The Superficial
Four places I would rather be right now
1. Domincan Republic
2. In the shower
3. Bed
4. At the Creehans'
Four bloggers I am tagging
1. Sister
2. Brother
3. Maura
4. Kate
Thursday, January 26, 2006
The Day of Suck
Nothing horrible happened today, but it definitely wasn't the best I've had lately. This afternoon Ross and I found out that we have a leak under the sidewalk under our house (probably a pipe that froze and then broke). The leak is between the meter and our house, so we might be responsible for tearing up the sidewalk, fixing it, and putting the sidewalk back. Meanwhile we've got a water/gas bill approaching the $1k mark because of it. Not a dire emergency, but a potentially very expensive one. Luckily, public utilities will be here tomorrow between 8 and 4 to look at it. I feel a battle coming on.
I left work late because I spent the better part of the evening trying to get my grades done. Report card time is coming and my duties as lead technology teacher require me to be available to my co-workers. Consequently, I work on a much tighter deadline. I didn't even want to come home because I knew it would be freezing. I walked in the door, ran up the stairs, and put on my flannel pajamas, a sweatshirt with a hood, and my robe. I proceeded to then spend the next hour making Ross suffer for a leak that is by no means his fault. I yelled, pouted, and declared that I want to move. I still want to move, but I feel bad for yelling at Ross.
While eating dinner huddled around the space heater (as our thermostat has now been turned down to a balmy 58 degrees in an effort to save money while we sort things out with the utilities people), the hubs and I watched a few episodes of Lost. Feeling better, I did my Thursday vaccuuming upstairs, and then headed to the icebox of a kitchen to load the dishwasher. As per usual, the dogs were crowed around the dishwasher, lapping up any globs or splashes that fell from the dishes. Shooter, ever the enthusiast, decided that he needed to kick it up a notch and actually hold one of the plates between his paws as he licked it. I think he realized halfway through the act that he was CRAZY, flipped out, got his paw stuck in the rack, and pulled the bottom drawer out of the dishwasher. As I played tug-of-war with him, trying to save my set of dishes, for some reason I looked up. And what do I see? Oh, just a mouse having a good ol' time climbing across the handlebars of my bike. So I scream, let go of the dishwasher rack, it crashes to the floor, Shooter scrambles away, and I stand there ready to pass out because I have no clue what has just happened. Luckily no dishes were broken.
In an effort to cheer me up, we decided to watch a little Curb Your Enthusiasm. However, it was the episode where they've just bought a new house and it keeps making "a house noise." This just reminded me of how much I'm hating our house right now. So now I'm right back where I started. I know, I should feel blessed that I even have a house, but I'd feel more blessed if it wasn't leaking, freezing, and home to furry things other than those I chose to have there.
I left work late because I spent the better part of the evening trying to get my grades done. Report card time is coming and my duties as lead technology teacher require me to be available to my co-workers. Consequently, I work on a much tighter deadline. I didn't even want to come home because I knew it would be freezing. I walked in the door, ran up the stairs, and put on my flannel pajamas, a sweatshirt with a hood, and my robe. I proceeded to then spend the next hour making Ross suffer for a leak that is by no means his fault. I yelled, pouted, and declared that I want to move. I still want to move, but I feel bad for yelling at Ross.
While eating dinner huddled around the space heater (as our thermostat has now been turned down to a balmy 58 degrees in an effort to save money while we sort things out with the utilities people), the hubs and I watched a few episodes of Lost. Feeling better, I did my Thursday vaccuuming upstairs, and then headed to the icebox of a kitchen to load the dishwasher. As per usual, the dogs were crowed around the dishwasher, lapping up any globs or splashes that fell from the dishes. Shooter, ever the enthusiast, decided that he needed to kick it up a notch and actually hold one of the plates between his paws as he licked it. I think he realized halfway through the act that he was CRAZY, flipped out, got his paw stuck in the rack, and pulled the bottom drawer out of the dishwasher. As I played tug-of-war with him, trying to save my set of dishes, for some reason I looked up. And what do I see? Oh, just a mouse having a good ol' time climbing across the handlebars of my bike. So I scream, let go of the dishwasher rack, it crashes to the floor, Shooter scrambles away, and I stand there ready to pass out because I have no clue what has just happened. Luckily no dishes were broken.
In an effort to cheer me up, we decided to watch a little Curb Your Enthusiasm. However, it was the episode where they've just bought a new house and it keeps making "a house noise." This just reminded me of how much I'm hating our house right now. So now I'm right back where I started. I know, I should feel blessed that I even have a house, but I'd feel more blessed if it wasn't leaking, freezing, and home to furry things other than those I chose to have there.
Wednesday, January 25, 2006
What I like about you...
After my wonderful evening of grilled cheese, tomato soup, "Lost," and some quality hubby time, I'm definitely feeling the love. So I thought I'd say what I love about some of the people in my life. If I don't include you, it doesn't mean I don't love you. I'm sure I'll write something about you later.
Ross - I love you because you're the best thing in my life. You know how to make me happier than anyone and I'm a much better person when I'm around you. And, you gladly accept and follow a weekly chore chart.
Maura - I love you because you're my kind of girl. You're girly enough to always look good, but not so much that it looks like you try too hard. I'd date you if I were into that. When you really care about something, you do it with everything that you are. I wish I could more like that. Plus, you have beautiful, dark locks.
Phannie - I love you because you keep me on my toes. You and I were together during one of the most important (AND AWESOME!!!) times in our lives. You taught me how to live with someone that isn't a member of my family. Ross should either thank you or blame you =)
Robinitaface - Even though you were mean to me when I was little, and I was mean to you when we were big, you really are my heart. I love you more and more the older we get. When we are old, gray, and fat, I imagine my heart will have exploded if it continues at this rate.
Brother - You showed me that being smart is awesome. I think I never got involved in anything really bad because I just wanted to be smart like you. I'll never be as smart as you, but I'll always work at it. Thanks for setting the bar really high - I think I'm successful because of it.
Maaaachew - I hope we are friends forever because you're the only ex-boyfriend that I have really made an effort to stay friends with (no offense to any of the others who might be reading this-but chances are, you're probably not, since we're not friends). Anytime I do something stupid, my first instinct is to plead "Don't tell Matthew" to whoever saw it. That means you're in my brain forever!!!! And you wrote me a poem one time. I still have it.
Matt - I love you because you live with Maura. Well, that's not the only reason, but it's the smartest decision you've ever made. For serious though, it so easy to be your friend because you're awesome. It's never hard to be around you, and you're good at everything. Especially Karoake. What's not to love?
Nicolai - Some people might think that I only love you for your family, and that would be a logical assumption because they feed me and there are babies there, but really it's because you have so freely allowed Ross and I to become part of that family. Ross and I have both learned so much from you and the rest of the Creehan clan that we will be forever grateful.
Kate - You are my oldest friend and I think that is awesome. I love that I get to spend time with someone that I've known for so long. I love that we didn't hang out in high school but we always talked when we saw each other. You're just awesome and we are all lucky to have you.
That's all for now. Try being in a bad mood now, friends!!!!!!!!!
Ross - I love you because you're the best thing in my life. You know how to make me happier than anyone and I'm a much better person when I'm around you. And, you gladly accept and follow a weekly chore chart.
Maura - I love you because you're my kind of girl. You're girly enough to always look good, but not so much that it looks like you try too hard. I'd date you if I were into that. When you really care about something, you do it with everything that you are. I wish I could more like that. Plus, you have beautiful, dark locks.
Phannie - I love you because you keep me on my toes. You and I were together during one of the most important (AND AWESOME!!!) times in our lives. You taught me how to live with someone that isn't a member of my family. Ross should either thank you or blame you =)
Robinitaface - Even though you were mean to me when I was little, and I was mean to you when we were big, you really are my heart. I love you more and more the older we get. When we are old, gray, and fat, I imagine my heart will have exploded if it continues at this rate.
Brother - You showed me that being smart is awesome. I think I never got involved in anything really bad because I just wanted to be smart like you. I'll never be as smart as you, but I'll always work at it. Thanks for setting the bar really high - I think I'm successful because of it.
Maaaachew - I hope we are friends forever because you're the only ex-boyfriend that I have really made an effort to stay friends with (no offense to any of the others who might be reading this-but chances are, you're probably not, since we're not friends). Anytime I do something stupid, my first instinct is to plead "Don't tell Matthew" to whoever saw it. That means you're in my brain forever!!!! And you wrote me a poem one time. I still have it.
Matt - I love you because you live with Maura. Well, that's not the only reason, but it's the smartest decision you've ever made. For serious though, it so easy to be your friend because you're awesome. It's never hard to be around you, and you're good at everything. Especially Karoake. What's not to love?
Nicolai - Some people might think that I only love you for your family, and that would be a logical assumption because they feed me and there are babies there, but really it's because you have so freely allowed Ross and I to become part of that family. Ross and I have both learned so much from you and the rest of the Creehan clan that we will be forever grateful.
Kate - You are my oldest friend and I think that is awesome. I love that I get to spend time with someone that I've known for so long. I love that we didn't hang out in high school but we always talked when we saw each other. You're just awesome and we are all lucky to have you.
That's all for now. Try being in a bad mood now, friends!!!!!!!!!
Friday, January 20, 2006
Do You Need Some Smarty Pants?!?!?!?!!
Ross had me take this MENSA test tonight. If you get 19+ correct then you're considered a genius. I got 20!!! I *KNEW* I was brilliant. Anyway, check it out and let me know what you got. I especially want to see how the bro does.
Just a little image to keep you awake a night. I think it conveys my genius quite well. The cap is because I'm so busy getting genius degress that there is no point taking it off. I need such thick glasses because I reeeeeead so many genius books. And the quill just helps me feel connected to my forefathers who are the only individuals who can truly understand my intelligence.
Just a little image to keep you awake a night. I think it conveys my genius quite well. The cap is because I'm so busy getting genius degress that there is no point taking it off. I need such thick glasses because I reeeeeead so many genius books. And the quill just helps me feel connected to my forefathers who are the only individuals who can truly understand my intelligence.
Tuesday, January 17, 2006
My Husband, the hero. (Warning: There is disucssion of my underwear in this post.)
Tonight I was going through the nightly fit of figuring out what to wear to work tomorrow. Unlike most people who work in the cooporate world where they actually interact with adults, I need to dress in a manner that allows me to look professional, but also enables me to crawl around the floor or sprint across the playground towards a bleeding child. Meanwhile, I wanna look somewhat stylish and not commit any FOH PAWS of which so many of my co-workers are guilty, i.e. jumpers, print turtlenecks, crocheted vests. I got some new pants over Christmas (I rarely do the skirt thing at work. Or ever) that are amazingly comfortable, but require me to wear a certain kind of very small undergarmet. In a fury prompted by exhaustion and a belly ache, I ran into the office, fist raised, proclaiming that I was going to have a VPL tomorrow, and I didn't care who knew it. Ross, ever the formidable force, looked at me square in the eye and demanded, "DON'T BE ONE OF THOSE PEOPLE." I stopped dead in my tracks and with a wide-eyed look said, "You're right. Thank you, Ross." I will be forever grateful.
Monday, January 16, 2006
No title.
Ever since the Harvey family was murdered on New Year's Day, I have made it a point to not go by the World of Mirth. I knew there were flowers and candles and messages placed outside the door, but I didn't want to seem like a gawker. I wanted to give those people that knew them their time. On my way to the tailor today, I passed by the store and couldn't help but stop and look. The number of flowers was overwhelming, as well as the sealed envelopes with "Stella" and "Ruby" scrawled across the front in wonderful and undeniable kid penmanship. They have pieces of butcher paper taped on the store windows where hundreds of people, those who knew the Harveys and those who didn't, have left sweet messages to these people who loved this city and did so much for it. I began to tear up as my eyes scanned the message, that choking lump forming in my throat as I went.
When I finished reading the messages, I said a prayer, and started to make my way up the block. But, something caught my eye. They have a TV set up in the window, playing a montage of the Harvey family which I assume was the one playing at the memorial service. I couldn't make myself move. Ever since I heard about what happened, I recognized that it was awful. But I didn't really get it until I saw them living in that footage. Seeing the little girls was the hardest. They were just babies. In one clip, Kathryn was holding Ruby in her arms, and you could see Ruby mouthing "Mommy" over and over again with a smile as her mother danced with her. At that moment, I really got understood. Here was a family, living their lives, loving each other and their city, and they were taken away for no reason whatsoever. All I could do was pray for the souls of the people who did this, pray that they would have an understanding of how much pain they have caused; I also thanked God for showing me a slight consolation in the fact that atleast that they were all together, and that none of them would have to go through life feeling the absence of another.
After that, I walked over to the tailor, and was greeted by the woman who works there, a nice Korean lady who doesn't speak much English and thinks my name is Balerie. Being as pale as I am, I don't recover quickly from the redness that accompanies crying, so she could obviously tell something was wrong. She came up to me from behind the front desk and asked "You OK?" and kept gesturing towards the chair by the window to see if I needed to sit down. I smiled at her and declined. I told her what I needed done and she filled out my ticket. As I took it from her, she patted my hand and smiled. We said goodbye, and I made my way home. I went inside, hugged my husband, and thanked God that we have each other.
When I finished reading the messages, I said a prayer, and started to make my way up the block. But, something caught my eye. They have a TV set up in the window, playing a montage of the Harvey family which I assume was the one playing at the memorial service. I couldn't make myself move. Ever since I heard about what happened, I recognized that it was awful. But I didn't really get it until I saw them living in that footage. Seeing the little girls was the hardest. They were just babies. In one clip, Kathryn was holding Ruby in her arms, and you could see Ruby mouthing "Mommy" over and over again with a smile as her mother danced with her. At that moment, I really got understood. Here was a family, living their lives, loving each other and their city, and they were taken away for no reason whatsoever. All I could do was pray for the souls of the people who did this, pray that they would have an understanding of how much pain they have caused; I also thanked God for showing me a slight consolation in the fact that atleast that they were all together, and that none of them would have to go through life feeling the absence of another.
After that, I walked over to the tailor, and was greeted by the woman who works there, a nice Korean lady who doesn't speak much English and thinks my name is Balerie. Being as pale as I am, I don't recover quickly from the redness that accompanies crying, so she could obviously tell something was wrong. She came up to me from behind the front desk and asked "You OK?" and kept gesturing towards the chair by the window to see if I needed to sit down. I smiled at her and declined. I told her what I needed done and she filled out my ticket. As I took it from her, she patted my hand and smiled. We said goodbye, and I made my way home. I went inside, hugged my husband, and thanked God that we have each other.
Sunday, January 15, 2006
I'm undeniably beautiful. And Ross is sometimes.
I happened upon this website this evening that uses "face recognition technology" to scan your picture and tell you what celebrity you look like. Click here to see the pictures I scanned, and the results I got. I look like two classic beauties. Ross is apparently still up for debate.
Result #1
Result #2
Result #3
It's pretty fun stuff. Try it out. I definitely felt better about myself after doing it.
Result #1
Result #2
Result #3
It's pretty fun stuff. Try it out. I definitely felt better about myself after doing it.
LET'S ROCK OUT!!!!!!1111
I've decided to really try and get regular exercise this year. So far I've been pretty successful with the help of my lateral thigh trainer, balance ball, and new hand weights. But the most helpful thing has been my iPod because it provides the best distraction from the overall discomfort and sweatiness I experience during these workouts. I've discovered that are certain songs that really "get me goin" as it were, so I thought I'd share them with you and see what you thought.
1. ABC by the Jackson 5. I shake it, shake it, baby, when they tell me to. And I love it.
2. Love is a Battlefield by Pat Benatar. Originally I thought Heartbreaker would be better, but the beat is not consistent enough.
3. American Idiot by Green Day. It's got a very fast beat and is longer than most Green Day songs.
4. Dammit by Blink182. Again, fast beat. And it's a lot easier to get caught up in a song when you know the words to it.
5. Bubble Pop Electric by Gwen Stefani. I save this one for last. You really need to work up to it because it almost kills you.
1. ABC by the Jackson 5. I shake it, shake it, baby, when they tell me to. And I love it.
2. Love is a Battlefield by Pat Benatar. Originally I thought Heartbreaker would be better, but the beat is not consistent enough.
3. American Idiot by Green Day. It's got a very fast beat and is longer than most Green Day songs.
4. Dammit by Blink182. Again, fast beat. And it's a lot easier to get caught up in a song when you know the words to it.
5. Bubble Pop Electric by Gwen Stefani. I save this one for last. You really need to work up to it because it almost kills you.
PharrOut Phamily Pheast
Last night, Ross, myself, Scott, and Christi went to Magianno's to celebrate the second anniversary of PharrOut. We got the family style option where you pay $24.95 per person and have an endless supply of food for the rest of the time you're there. I must say, it was a wise decision-we have so many leftovers that we won't have to cook for days. Anyway, it was great to see Scott and Christi to celebrate how far the business has come in just 2 years. I'm proud of our little PharrOut Phamily, and I look phorward to many pheasts to come!
Wednesday, January 11, 2006
Frustrating.
Today, one of my boys called one of my girls the "N" word. Both of them are African American, not that that should make it any less bad. I didn't even know how to begin to address this, so I had to just send them to the guidance counselor to talk it out. The little girl was crying so much she could barely breathe, but the boy didn't see any problem with calling her that. Sigh. I hate it when I don't know what to do.
Tuesday, January 10, 2006
Gavin, I will fight Gwen for you...
I added some songs to the iPod shuffle on Sunday. On a whim, I decided to plunk a little Bush on there, just for kicks. Well, this evening, as I was perusing myspace.com, Glycerin came on the speakers. I literally swooned. A wave of memories of my undying love for Gavin came over me, and I was once again an awkward 14 year old listening to the Buzz in my room, truly convinced that I would one day marry him. I mean, how could a girl resist these lyrics:
must be your skin that i'm sinking in :: must be for real 'cos now i can feel :: and i didn't mind :: it's not my kind :: it's not my time to wonder why :: everything gone white :: and everything's grey :: now you're here now you're away :: i don't want this :: remember that :: i'll never forget where you're at :: don't let the days go by :: glycerine
i'm never alone :: i'm alone all the time :: are you at one :: or do you lie :: we live in a wheel :: where everyone steals :: but when we rise it's like strawberry fields
if i treated you bad :: you bruise my face :: couldn't love you more :: you got a beautiful taste :: don't let the days go by :: could have been easier on you :: i couldn't change though i wanted to :: could have been easier by three :: our old friend fear and you and me :: glycerine :: don't let the days go by :: glycerine
i needed us more :: when we wanted us less :: i could not kiss just regress :: it might just be :: clear simple and plain :: that's just fine :: that's just one of my names :: don't let the days go by :: could've been easier on you :: glycerine
Or this face:
Sigh. I listened to it twice. I guess it really is too late, considering he's married and has a baby on the way. Oh, and I'm married, too.
must be your skin that i'm sinking in :: must be for real 'cos now i can feel :: and i didn't mind :: it's not my kind :: it's not my time to wonder why :: everything gone white :: and everything's grey :: now you're here now you're away :: i don't want this :: remember that :: i'll never forget where you're at :: don't let the days go by :: glycerine
i'm never alone :: i'm alone all the time :: are you at one :: or do you lie :: we live in a wheel :: where everyone steals :: but when we rise it's like strawberry fields
if i treated you bad :: you bruise my face :: couldn't love you more :: you got a beautiful taste :: don't let the days go by :: could have been easier on you :: i couldn't change though i wanted to :: could have been easier by three :: our old friend fear and you and me :: glycerine :: don't let the days go by :: glycerine
i needed us more :: when we wanted us less :: i could not kiss just regress :: it might just be :: clear simple and plain :: that's just fine :: that's just one of my names :: don't let the days go by :: could've been easier on you :: glycerine
Or this face:
Sigh. I listened to it twice. I guess it really is too late, considering he's married and has a baby on the way. Oh, and I'm married, too.
Sunday, January 08, 2006
Some things.
I don't like cake. Please don't offer me any.
I thought I already loved my brother and sister an insane amount. But it turns out, the more time I spend with them, I love them even more.
I love buying people lunch.
When watching movies, I get more upset when a dog dies than when a person dies.
Everyone in my family has dimples but me.
Billy Joel ballads make me tear up whenever I listen to them.
I sometimes think I should just give my dogs away now so I won't have to deal with the sadness I will feel when they die.
I don't need to use tape when painting a room.
I've never met a Matt I didn't like.
I have never broken up with someone in person. And I've only been broken up *with* in person.
I sleep on my stomach with my arms parallel to my body, very much like a fish.
I still pretend to be a mermaid when I go swimming.
I'm scared of vampires.
I love to watch documentaries about exorcisms.
I read exceptionally quickly.
I'm a sucker for a boy with curly hair.
I use my smile to try to get people to do what I want. And it usually works.
I am able to detect if someone is BSing in about 3 seconds.
I do not fight fair.
I think cheating is a definite deal-breaker.
I cry on every anniversary of my grandma's death.
I will eat an entire box of Swiss Cake Rolls in one sitting. Not Ho-Ho's. It's only Swiss for me.
I've had the same cut on my thumb for 10 years. I would call it a scar, but it looks brand new everyday.
Few things makes me happier than a clean kitchen.
I thought I already loved my brother and sister an insane amount. But it turns out, the more time I spend with them, I love them even more.
I love buying people lunch.
When watching movies, I get more upset when a dog dies than when a person dies.
Everyone in my family has dimples but me.
Billy Joel ballads make me tear up whenever I listen to them.
I sometimes think I should just give my dogs away now so I won't have to deal with the sadness I will feel when they die.
I don't need to use tape when painting a room.
I've never met a Matt I didn't like.
I have never broken up with someone in person. And I've only been broken up *with* in person.
I sleep on my stomach with my arms parallel to my body, very much like a fish.
I still pretend to be a mermaid when I go swimming.
I'm scared of vampires.
I love to watch documentaries about exorcisms.
I read exceptionally quickly.
I'm a sucker for a boy with curly hair.
I use my smile to try to get people to do what I want. And it usually works.
I am able to detect if someone is BSing in about 3 seconds.
I do not fight fair.
I think cheating is a definite deal-breaker.
I cry on every anniversary of my grandma's death.
I will eat an entire box of Swiss Cake Rolls in one sitting. Not Ho-Ho's. It's only Swiss for me.
I've had the same cut on my thumb for 10 years. I would call it a scar, but it looks brand new everyday.
Few things makes me happier than a clean kitchen.
Saturday, January 07, 2006
Artificial Limbs Flying Everywhere!!!
Tonight Ross and I joined my dad's side of the family to celebrate my grandmother's 95th birthday. My grandma (Thelma) lives at Imperial Plaza over in Bellvue, so we all met up with her and some of her friends in one of the party rooms there to throw down. I had myself a quality meatloaf dinner, and even had a balloon tied to my chair! My grandmother seemed really happy, and it was nice to see that she and her lady friends take good care of one another. One of her friends is named Helen, and she's just about the funniest person I've ever met.
Helen informed us that she had spent her whole life living 3/4 mile away from Imperial Plaza, so she's a hard-core Richmonder through and through. Ross and I could tell she was immediately by the way she pronounced "house." People who are Old Richmond say "house" in a way that sounds almost Canadian, but a little more slurred. Needless to say, once we made this connection, she was our favorite of the ladies joining us. But little did we know that our love for her would grow the more and more she talked.
Helen is one of those elderly ladies who seems to say whatever she wants, basically because she's old and she can. She told a bunch of stories over dinner, but my favorite had to do with old people on a cruise, fog, and a prosthetic leg. According to Helen, some friends of her took a cruise up to Alaska (or around Alaska, I dunno-I just know that my grandmother took a similar cruise a couple times-maybe old people like it?). One morning, this couple was strolling along the deck, making their way to the dining room for breakfast. As it was foggy, the deck was a little slippery. Unfortunately the older gentleman slipped and hit the ground with such force THAT HIS ARTIFICIAL LEG FLEW OFF AND SLID INTO A CROWD OF PEOPLE. In my mind, I pictured all of these elderly people being plowed over like bowling pins by this rogue, soaring leg. Needless to day, I almost died from the hilarity of it all, and Helen seemed happy to have given us all a chuckle.
Anyway, it was a good time had by all, and it was nice to see my grandma smile so much. Happy Birthday, T-dawg!!!!!
Helen informed us that she had spent her whole life living 3/4 mile away from Imperial Plaza, so she's a hard-core Richmonder through and through. Ross and I could tell she was immediately by the way she pronounced "house." People who are Old Richmond say "house" in a way that sounds almost Canadian, but a little more slurred. Needless to say, once we made this connection, she was our favorite of the ladies joining us. But little did we know that our love for her would grow the more and more she talked.
Helen is one of those elderly ladies who seems to say whatever she wants, basically because she's old and she can. She told a bunch of stories over dinner, but my favorite had to do with old people on a cruise, fog, and a prosthetic leg. According to Helen, some friends of her took a cruise up to Alaska (or around Alaska, I dunno-I just know that my grandmother took a similar cruise a couple times-maybe old people like it?). One morning, this couple was strolling along the deck, making their way to the dining room for breakfast. As it was foggy, the deck was a little slippery. Unfortunately the older gentleman slipped and hit the ground with such force THAT HIS ARTIFICIAL LEG FLEW OFF AND SLID INTO A CROWD OF PEOPLE. In my mind, I pictured all of these elderly people being plowed over like bowling pins by this rogue, soaring leg. Needless to day, I almost died from the hilarity of it all, and Helen seemed happy to have given us all a chuckle.
Anyway, it was a good time had by all, and it was nice to see my grandma smile so much. Happy Birthday, T-dawg!!!!!
Thursday, January 05, 2006
I'm so trendy and LOVED!
I have been asking Ross to get me some jewelry for a Christmas or birthday present for a long time. For real, ask Maura. Anyway, he actually listened this Christmas and ordered an opal (my birthstone) ring off of the ebay.com. Unfortunately, said ring has yet to arrive and it was intended to be my "main" Christmas present. But luckily, my thoughtful husband made ammends for the tragedy today.
I got home today around 5:30 to hear Ashlee Simpson blaring from upstairs. My first thoughts was, "Man, Ross is such a forgetful bastard. He left his iPod on when he left." My second thoughts was, "Oh no. I'm about to be murdered and the killer has decided to supply a very odd soundtrack to my slaughter." Bravely, I made my way up the steps behind my ferocious dog Zapp, and into the sunroom, the location from which the music was blaring. And what do I find hooked up to my laptop there? None other than an iPod shuffle! I know some people think the shuffle is lame-o, but it's perfect for me because I'm not really picky about music or the order in which it is played. I just kept saying "What the mess?!?!?!!?" over and over again. And the best part is, I have no idea what he put on it, so it's like a nice surprise with every song that comes on!!! I'm so happy and feel so appreciated. YAY HUBS!!!!!
I got home today around 5:30 to hear Ashlee Simpson blaring from upstairs. My first thoughts was, "Man, Ross is such a forgetful bastard. He left his iPod on when he left." My second thoughts was, "Oh no. I'm about to be murdered and the killer has decided to supply a very odd soundtrack to my slaughter." Bravely, I made my way up the steps behind my ferocious dog Zapp, and into the sunroom, the location from which the music was blaring. And what do I find hooked up to my laptop there? None other than an iPod shuffle! I know some people think the shuffle is lame-o, but it's perfect for me because I'm not really picky about music or the order in which it is played. I just kept saying "What the mess?!?!?!!?" over and over again. And the best part is, I have no idea what he put on it, so it's like a nice surprise with every song that comes on!!! I'm so happy and feel so appreciated. YAY HUBS!!!!!
Monday, January 02, 2006
So so sad.
Most of you in the Richmond area have probably heard about the murders that took place on New Year's Day in South Richmond. For those of you that haven't, click here. I'll refrain from giving a summary of the horrible events, more for my sake than anyone else's.
We all know that Richmond can be a violent city, but I always considered the violence to be based on people making really bad decisions in the heat of the moment. But this incident required so much planning and calculation that it makes me queasy to think about it. My heart hurts for their family and friends, and particularly for the little girls' friends and classmates who are having to deal with something this horrible way too early in their lives. Please keep all involved in your prayers. Pray for Richmond, too.
We all know that Richmond can be a violent city, but I always considered the violence to be based on people making really bad decisions in the heat of the moment. But this incident required so much planning and calculation that it makes me queasy to think about it. My heart hurts for their family and friends, and particularly for the little girls' friends and classmates who are having to deal with something this horrible way too early in their lives. Please keep all involved in your prayers. Pray for Richmond, too.
Sunday, January 01, 2006
Have a New Year!
So this year is off to an amazing start. I spent last night at Blair's house playing Pop-Culture Trivial Pursuit. It was boys against girls and the boys got pwn'd, I must say. I drank my first entire beer, and it turns out that beer makes me bossy.
I woke up at 11:30 today, ate some toast, went back to bed, woke up at 3:30, took a shower, and headed over to Chris from Canada's to partake in the New Year's Turkey Fry. Last New Year's Day, Ross organized the roasting of a pig. This year he successfully orchestrated the frying of a bird in peanut oil. I must say, when that hubby of mine puts his mind to something, he can accomplish anything. Not only that, but this get-together was the ultimate example of worlds colliding-even my sister, who I love, came which was great!
Anyway, I had an awesome time at Chris's and I seriously adore everyone that was there. I'm a little bit in love with each and everyone of them. My heart is exploding with affection for them and with gratitude that I get to call them my friends. So much that I don't mind that I came home to Zapp eating the curtains that my mother custom-made for our dining room.
I hope everyone had a great New Year, and I wish you all many blessings this coming year!
I woke up at 11:30 today, ate some toast, went back to bed, woke up at 3:30, took a shower, and headed over to Chris from Canada's to partake in the New Year's Turkey Fry. Last New Year's Day, Ross organized the roasting of a pig. This year he successfully orchestrated the frying of a bird in peanut oil. I must say, when that hubby of mine puts his mind to something, he can accomplish anything. Not only that, but this get-together was the ultimate example of worlds colliding-even my sister, who I love, came which was great!
Anyway, I had an awesome time at Chris's and I seriously adore everyone that was there. I'm a little bit in love with each and everyone of them. My heart is exploding with affection for them and with gratitude that I get to call them my friends. So much that I don't mind that I came home to Zapp eating the curtains that my mother custom-made for our dining room.
I hope everyone had a great New Year, and I wish you all many blessings this coming year!
Big Ups to My Big Sis
BLOGGING RUNS IN THE FAM!!!! Check out my big sister's new blog, dear readers!
Saturday, December 31, 2005
Horahhh!!!!
I finally got a new keyboard for my laptop!!! Ross's dad gave it to me for Christmas, so now I don't have to wait for Ross to "just check his email" before I can get on the Internet. Not only that, it's set up in my newly purple sunroom/craftroom. That's right, instead of relaxing during my winter break, I decided that the crappy room behind our bedroom needed some sprucing up, basically so I wouldn't want to die whenever I walked into it. So now it's a a lovely, vibrant, eggplant color, complete with flowy curtains and my artwork on the walls. Zapp and I love hanging out in here. I'm tempted to tape a sign like this on the door:
Wednesday, December 28, 2005
ULTRASONIC!?!?!?!?!?!?!!!!111
So I went over to the Home Depot today to pick up some more purple paint for the sunroom (yeah, that's right) AND to purchase some sort of mouse trapping apparatus. Even though I will smush most living things to bits, I can't bring myself to kill a mouse. Consequently, the old-fashioned "snap them in half" variety wasn't going to work for me. As I perused the vermit/pest aisle, all I could find was said mouse-snappers, and pellets that are guaranteed to kill mice and rats when consumed. I figured if they could kill mice and rats, they could probably kill dogs, too. Being that I have two of the dumbest (but sweetest!) dogs in the world, and that these dogs manage to get into everything imaginable, I was convinced that I would have to surrender to the fact that the mice might just be there to stay. That is, until something caught my eye.
Tucked off to the side of the last shelf in the aisle was what looked to be an plug-in air freshener of some kind. Upon closer inspection, it turned out to be a little plug-in doo-hickey that emits sounds at a frequency that drives mice SO crazy that their nervous systems get all out of whack and they leave your house in efforts to avoid insanity. Now, that's not what the package said, but my summary was much more colorful, and not inaccurate. It claims to have no effect on dogs, but I am a little worried about Gary, the class gerbil, who is visiting for the holidays. Hopefully he won't try to escape-or die. But if he does, I can use the story as a good science review of sound frequency.
Tucked off to the side of the last shelf in the aisle was what looked to be an plug-in air freshener of some kind. Upon closer inspection, it turned out to be a little plug-in doo-hickey that emits sounds at a frequency that drives mice SO crazy that their nervous systems get all out of whack and they leave your house in efforts to avoid insanity. Now, that's not what the package said, but my summary was much more colorful, and not inaccurate. It claims to have no effect on dogs, but I am a little worried about Gary, the class gerbil, who is visiting for the holidays. Hopefully he won't try to escape-or die. But if he does, I can use the story as a good science review of sound frequency.
Tuesday, December 27, 2005
A MOUSE IN THE HOUSE!!!!!!!
This evening I walked into the kitchen to prepare myself a much anticipated peanut butter sandwich, and I saw a teeny tiny brown mouse scurrying along the edge of our counter and disappearing behind our fridge. I have never come upon an unexpected live mouse. I've come across dead ones at school all the time. They like to hide in the book closet and make superman leaps off of the shelves. They rarely survive this stunt, and I frequently find them lying spread eagle in the middle of the floor. My reaction to this is usually "ew" and then I go get Pyramus, the custodian, and he sweeps them up into the dustbin and does whatever it is you do with dead mice. Anyway, I've always wondered what my reaction would be to a not-dead mouse. Well, it turns out that I simply make a series of unintelligible squeals and whines until I have gotten the icky feeling out of my system. After my semi-fit, I bravely got the flashlight and looked behind the fridge-but to no avail. It seems the critter escaped through one of the many holes tucked away in the corners of our Swiss-cheeseque house. Needless to say, we will be picking up some mouse traps tomorrow. I'm sure there will be many pictures to follow showing the spoils of that adventure.
Monday, December 26, 2005
Hangin Out
I went out with the hubs (don't click there-he never updates his blog) tonight to participate in a mini "going away" party for Jake, who leaves for a 5 week stint Nicaragua tomorrow afternoon. We met up with a bunch of people at Empire, a bar in the VCU area. The people I met up with are ones that I see fairly frequently, or at least I feel like I see them because I know what's going on in their lives, mainly through stalking them via the Internet. But the thing is, I guess I don't hang out enough, because when people saw me, they were all, "Valerie! You're here! That's awesome!" Ross always tells me that when he goes to hang out sans me, people are always demanding to know where I am and for me to hang out more. I never really believed him, but I guess it's true. But here's the thing-I feel like when I go to hang out, I can't stay the whole time because my very thin facade of coolness will crumble after a few precious hours. Therefore, if I leave early, they never know that I'm a loser, and I leave them wanting more. Such a conclusion indicates a mastery of social perceptions and the possible manipulations of such perceptions, or severe insecurities. Or is it both? Have I just blown your mind?!?!?!?!?!?!?111
Friday, December 23, 2005
A Christmas Miracle of Sweet, Sweet Justice
After a fab lunch at Perly's this afternoon, the hubs and I decided to brave the wilds of Target to buy A)a keyboard for my laptop that ScottPharr destroyed a year ago by pouring water on it and B) a rug for our upstairs hallway to protect the 90 year old hardwood floors that our dogs' talons are systematically tearing apart. Purchases made, I steered our car out of the jammed parking lot and patiently waited my turn to exit. Being the solid Richmonder that I am, I gave the required go ahead while in a traffic situation, allowing one person to slip in front of me. I let her through, got my "thank you" wave, and gave her the "no problem" wave in return. And that's when the Christmas miracle began.
As I began to scoot forward to claim my place behind the lady I allowed to pass, some jerk-face in an SUV cut in front of me and slipped into my spot in line. Being a Southern lady, I can not allow such rudeness to take place without giving the culprit "the what for." The only appropriate "what for" to give was to honk my horn at him. He then turned to me with his jerk-face and said "Yeeeeessssss???????" followed by a series of jerk-faced "I'm a jerk-face" faces. As he was making said faces, jerk-face failed to notice that he had not completely pushed on his brake, and proceeded to run into the car in front of him. Hearing the two cars connect filled my heart with such joy-a joy that one might call "The Joy of Christmas"-that I could not help but to toss my head back with a gleeful laugh as I drove by jerk-face who had been sufficiently pwn'd by the Christmas Spirit.
Merry Christmas, dear readers. And may you be blessed with a Christmas Miracle of your own this holiday season.
As I began to scoot forward to claim my place behind the lady I allowed to pass, some jerk-face in an SUV cut in front of me and slipped into my spot in line. Being a Southern lady, I can not allow such rudeness to take place without giving the culprit "the what for." The only appropriate "what for" to give was to honk my horn at him. He then turned to me with his jerk-face and said "Yeeeeessssss???????" followed by a series of jerk-faced "I'm a jerk-face" faces. As he was making said faces, jerk-face failed to notice that he had not completely pushed on his brake, and proceeded to run into the car in front of him. Hearing the two cars connect filled my heart with such joy-a joy that one might call "The Joy of Christmas"-that I could not help but to toss my head back with a gleeful laugh as I drove by jerk-face who had been sufficiently pwn'd by the Christmas Spirit.
Merry Christmas, dear readers. And may you be blessed with a Christmas Miracle of your own this holiday season.
Wednesday, December 21, 2005
Wanna hear Ross scream like a girl?
Then show him one of these!!!!!!!11111:
We have had an infestation of sorts of these little buggars as of late. I guess they don't like the cold weather either. We've found one on the couch, one on the ceiling, several in the hallway, and one staring at me from the bathroom wall while I was, ahem, otherwise occupied. And not only are they insanely ugly and hard to catch, but they make a huge pile of guts and legs when you smash them. Sometimes I wonder if it's worth even killing them. Oh well, sometimes the dogs help with the clean up process. Gross, I know, but it really gets old after a while. Now I'm sure all of you will be clammering to come over to our house. Not only is it frigid, but now it is crawling with critters with faces like this:
We have had an infestation of sorts of these little buggars as of late. I guess they don't like the cold weather either. We've found one on the couch, one on the ceiling, several in the hallway, and one staring at me from the bathroom wall while I was, ahem, otherwise occupied. And not only are they insanely ugly and hard to catch, but they make a huge pile of guts and legs when you smash them. Sometimes I wonder if it's worth even killing them. Oh well, sometimes the dogs help with the clean up process. Gross, I know, but it really gets old after a while. Now I'm sure all of you will be clammering to come over to our house. Not only is it frigid, but now it is crawling with critters with faces like this:
Monday, December 19, 2005
Friday, December 16, 2005
Today's inquiry...
What is the best scene from a movie ever? I have three:
The end of Big Fish when the son is carrying the father into the lake and he sees all of the people from his life. I cry every friggin time.
When Will Farrell is in the phone booth in Anchorman. I laugh to the point where I'm not breathing anymore.
When Tom Hanks is stuck in the floor in The Money Pit. One of the best lines in any movie ever is: "My chest is constricted. I can't shout." Whoooooo. Hilarious.
What about you?
The end of Big Fish when the son is carrying the father into the lake and he sees all of the people from his life. I cry every friggin time.
When Will Farrell is in the phone booth in Anchorman. I laugh to the point where I'm not breathing anymore.
When Tom Hanks is stuck in the floor in The Money Pit. One of the best lines in any movie ever is: "My chest is constricted. I can't shout." Whoooooo. Hilarious.
What about you?
Thursday, December 15, 2005
Baptismal Update
So Ross and I met with Steve Constable of Stony Point Church, the place we semi-attend. The gist of the meeting was that he can't really baptise me unless I'm a member of the church. Ross and I are not really for church membership, i.e. we don't see the point. But Constable assured me that if I don't ever get baptised I won't go to hell. That's always nice to hear. So now I have to decide what I want to do, if anything. The fact that Constable wasn't like, "Here, let me baptise you right now in Starbuck's," requires me to figure it out. I'm not so good at "planning" so it'll be interesting to see what happens.
Wednesday, December 14, 2005
TWO IN ONE DAY! But a topic of interest...
As I lay in bed last night, nursing a belly-ache, I started to think of things I could post on my blog that would allow my loyal but often silent readers to be more active in this whole blogger/audience relationship. I came up with this question that I thought would generate some interesting responses:
Out of all the books you have read, who is your favorite character and/or narrator? Here are some of my favorites, as obvious as they may be...
Scout from To Kill a Mockingbird. Her narration is authentic and hilarious. I want to have a daughter just like her one day.
Good ol' Holden Caufield from Catcher in the Rye. I love it when he describes cute things that girls do as "killing him." The scene when he describes how pitiful his old teacher is cracks me up, too.
Becky Bloomwood from the Shopaholic series (yeah, that's right). Her justifications for her ridiculous actions remind me of a certain red-headed friend I have.
Esther Greenwood from the Bell Jar. Even though I'm not as crazy as her, I can definitely relate to her breakdowns.
Francie Nolan from A Tree Grows in Brooklyn. The descriptions of her alcoholic father are heartbreaking and moving.
I know, I'm such an English major. But I want to know what you think. Please let me know!
Out of all the books you have read, who is your favorite character and/or narrator? Here are some of my favorites, as obvious as they may be...
Scout from To Kill a Mockingbird. Her narration is authentic and hilarious. I want to have a daughter just like her one day.
Good ol' Holden Caufield from Catcher in the Rye. I love it when he describes cute things that girls do as "killing him." The scene when he describes how pitiful his old teacher is cracks me up, too.
Becky Bloomwood from the Shopaholic series (yeah, that's right). Her justifications for her ridiculous actions remind me of a certain red-headed friend I have.
Esther Greenwood from the Bell Jar. Even though I'm not as crazy as her, I can definitely relate to her breakdowns.
Francie Nolan from A Tree Grows in Brooklyn. The descriptions of her alcoholic father are heartbreaking and moving.
I know, I'm such an English major. But I want to know what you think. Please let me know!
Our house is a very very very cold house
We had the last Potluck of 2k5 this evening, and I assaulted all of our guests with the same question: "Is your house warm?" I even made poor Kate describe the warmth of her house to me, as she now lives in an adorable *one* story house which is much easier to heat. Many of you unfortunately have to hear about our frigid abode anytime you see us. Well, now you get to read about it.
I love love love our house in the summer. It stays nice and cool, even through the melting days of a Richmond August. However, once winter hits, Ross and I are forced to live/dress like paupers, walking around inside with hats and scarves on muttering, "It's so cold." Our house was built in the 1920's and still has all of the orginial windows. I know, I know, 1920's windows sound charming, what with their mouldings and all. But mouldings don't keep you warm. Just come over and put your hand in front of one of those charming windows-it'll seem a lot less cute when you feel the northeasterly blowing into our dining room. Not only do they let all the cold in, but they also let all the heat out. So much heat that our poor furnace just keeps running, racking up a $311 gas bill. I guess it'll be time to seal the windows up with plastic this weekend, a project that requires Ross and I to work together. Ross and I love each other more than words can say, and that love is able to stay strong because of our awareness that we don't work well together when it comes to house projects. Hopefully our love will withstand the stress. And, I mean, it could be worse. As Ross said to me tonight as I was doing the dishes in my coat and scarf, "At least you can't see your breath inside the house. That's something."
I love love love our house in the summer. It stays nice and cool, even through the melting days of a Richmond August. However, once winter hits, Ross and I are forced to live/dress like paupers, walking around inside with hats and scarves on muttering, "It's so cold." Our house was built in the 1920's and still has all of the orginial windows. I know, I know, 1920's windows sound charming, what with their mouldings and all. But mouldings don't keep you warm. Just come over and put your hand in front of one of those charming windows-it'll seem a lot less cute when you feel the northeasterly blowing into our dining room. Not only do they let all the cold in, but they also let all the heat out. So much heat that our poor furnace just keeps running, racking up a $311 gas bill. I guess it'll be time to seal the windows up with plastic this weekend, a project that requires Ross and I to work together. Ross and I love each other more than words can say, and that love is able to stay strong because of our awareness that we don't work well together when it comes to house projects. Hopefully our love will withstand the stress. And, I mean, it could be worse. As Ross said to me tonight as I was doing the dishes in my coat and scarf, "At least you can't see your breath inside the house. That's something."
Thursday, December 08, 2005
I am SO not schmoozable
The hubs and I were invited to this political dinner/drinks/fundraiser thing for Chris Peace, a House of Delegates candidate for the 97th district. Ross and his bidness partner, ScottPharr, are building this guy's web site, so the hubs, the Scott, his wife, and me-self got to go to Julep's for some free food this evening. The food was good (I basically had crab dip for dinner), the wine flowed like wine, and we got to see good ol' Mark and Jamie, friends who we could never get enough of even if they lived in our house. But here's the thing: JERRY EFFING KILGORE WAS THERE. Yeah, that's right. Mr. Not-Our-Governor, the man who has been the subject of much mockery in our household for the last year. Once he walked in the party (which he stayed at *just* long enough to get his picture taken and then skeedaddle), I knew I was out of my league. Rather than discuss issues with the politicos surrounding me, all I wanted to do was scream, "I DIDN'T VOTE FOR YOU!" at Mr. Kilgore, and eat some crab dip with a spoon rather than on a cracker, as is the "appropriate" or "ladylike" way. I had nothing to say to anyone and kept following Ross around, who kept following Mark, who kept following Jamie, who was only there to make business connections in case she decides to quit her job. I am so not a grown up. But I so love free crab dip.
Wednesday, December 07, 2005
Save some holy water for me!
Sooooooooo a lot of you might not know this, but I was never baptized as a baby. My mom had "issues" with organized religion, so she just never had it done. We were sent to Sunday school to learn "the basics" when we were really small, but then left to our own devices as we trudged our way into adulthood.
Not being baptized was a non-issue when I was a non-Christian. But now that I am "one of those" (Who hearts the quotation marks tonight?), it is a major personal issue for me. I appreciate where my mom was coming from, and I'm excited that it's something I get to choose to do. But it's been in the back of my mind for a while. Ross likes to joke and tell me that I'm going to hell. Atleast I think he's joking. Anyway, I decided when I was around 18 that I did want to get baptized as an outward expression of my faith. However, I was 18 and had no follow through whatsoever. Now, 6 years later (it makes me sick to my stomach to think that was a whole first-grader ago) I have managed to, as I have mentioned, acquire a hubby, a car, 2 dogs, and a house. Now I'm trying to get me a preacher and a baptism. I've already contacted the pastor of the church that Ross and I semi-attend to get the baptismal ball rolling, as they say. Or as I say. Anyway, just wanted to share that. Do with it what you will. But I'm just saying, I fully expect a truckload of those "Congratulations on Your Baptism" money holders stuffed with cash once the occasion is upon us.
Not being baptized was a non-issue when I was a non-Christian. But now that I am "one of those" (Who hearts the quotation marks tonight?), it is a major personal issue for me. I appreciate where my mom was coming from, and I'm excited that it's something I get to choose to do. But it's been in the back of my mind for a while. Ross likes to joke and tell me that I'm going to hell. Atleast I think he's joking. Anyway, I decided when I was around 18 that I did want to get baptized as an outward expression of my faith. However, I was 18 and had no follow through whatsoever. Now, 6 years later (it makes me sick to my stomach to think that was a whole first-grader ago) I have managed to, as I have mentioned, acquire a hubby, a car, 2 dogs, and a house. Now I'm trying to get me a preacher and a baptism. I've already contacted the pastor of the church that Ross and I semi-attend to get the baptismal ball rolling, as they say. Or as I say. Anyway, just wanted to share that. Do with it what you will. But I'm just saying, I fully expect a truckload of those "Congratulations on Your Baptism" money holders stuffed with cash once the occasion is upon us.
Saturday, December 03, 2005
Muttled but somewhat meaningful musings
I just looked at my own profile and saw that it said I am 24 years old. Naturally, I knew that I am 24 years old, but there's something about seeing in print that solidifies it for you. I know that 24 is by no means old, but on the day I reached it, I had a minor freak out.
I think when most people turn 24, they have a freak out of the "What am I going to do with my life?" variety. I had one more like the "How did I get to this point already?" sort. I mean think about it. I was married by 21, got a job, got a car, got a dog, got a house, got another dog, all in 2 years. Now I'm left wondering what there is left to do now-I want to move on to the next thing. It's like I have this checklist in my brain where I am just marking things off as I get them done. And being the control-freak that I am, I like to get them done very quickly. Most of you would probably say that the next thing on the list is babies. I would tend to agree with you on that, but I know that the thought of having babies right now sends Ross into a panicky, sweaty-palmed spiral. I know we're not ready for kids. I know this. I just feel like I'm going to be stuck in a rut as I wait for the right time to come. And it pisses me off that I'm going to be like that. Why am I so attached to this constant desire to keep things moving along to the next phase, instead of just loving the amazing life I've been blessed with so early on? I'm seriously going to start trying to mellow out and enjoy the way my life is now. I have a hilarious, loving husband, the sweetest, most loyal friends anyone could ask for, a job I love, two dogs that treat me like a rockstar when I come home from work, and a family that has always supported and encouraged me, despite our dysfunction. That's more than anyone deserves. So I'm gonna shut the mess up and and take it all in while it's here. The rest will come when it's supposed to.
I think when most people turn 24, they have a freak out of the "What am I going to do with my life?" variety. I had one more like the "How did I get to this point already?" sort. I mean think about it. I was married by 21, got a job, got a car, got a dog, got a house, got another dog, all in 2 years. Now I'm left wondering what there is left to do now-I want to move on to the next thing. It's like I have this checklist in my brain where I am just marking things off as I get them done. And being the control-freak that I am, I like to get them done very quickly. Most of you would probably say that the next thing on the list is babies. I would tend to agree with you on that, but I know that the thought of having babies right now sends Ross into a panicky, sweaty-palmed spiral. I know we're not ready for kids. I know this. I just feel like I'm going to be stuck in a rut as I wait for the right time to come. And it pisses me off that I'm going to be like that. Why am I so attached to this constant desire to keep things moving along to the next phase, instead of just loving the amazing life I've been blessed with so early on? I'm seriously going to start trying to mellow out and enjoy the way my life is now. I have a hilarious, loving husband, the sweetest, most loyal friends anyone could ask for, a job I love, two dogs that treat me like a rockstar when I come home from work, and a family that has always supported and encouraged me, despite our dysfunction. That's more than anyone deserves. So I'm gonna shut the mess up and and take it all in while it's here. The rest will come when it's supposed to.
Ok, so I'm a loser.
My post before last, I got all high and mighty talking about how I don't see the point of myspace. But while I was investigating it, I set up my own profile. I keep going back to see if I have any new friends. All I have is Ross and some guy named Tom who wants me to come see his band. Please go here and make comments or ask to be my friend.
Friday, December 02, 2005
Happy Field Trip Day!!!!
Today the entire 5th grade class went to the Virginia Marine Science Museum in Virginia Beach. It was quite the eventful day and I thought I'd share it all with you.
I spent my day with 4 kids. Read their names and brief descriptions below:
Kevin-All-American, blue-eyed boy with a charming smile and a "killer fastball." Pretty much guaranteed entry into any fraternity once he enters college on a full athletic scholarship. Very smart and sweet, but, more often than not, a pain in the ass.
Amanda-Very sweet but insecure young lady who wants to please all adults, and to talk about umcomfortable things with them.
Taylor-As ghetto-fabulous as they come and insists on wearing her down-jacket with the fur-lined hood at all times, but just with the hood hanging off of her head.
George-our favorite Egyptian friend who has recently added the phrases, "Come on, man" and "Dude, for real," to his vocabulary.
The rest of my students were passed along to my chaperones, who I must say were WONDERFUL today. I chose each of these kids to be in my group each for their own special reason. Kevin, because he lacks any shred of self-control. Amanda, because she has very little to say to children her own age and tends to have mental breakdowns when she can't communicate with them. Taylor, because she would just boss around anyone in her group, including (or, perhaps, especially) the chaperone. George, because I am one of the few adults who can actually understand what he says. It proved to be an interesting and, eventually, heartwarming day.
We started off in the Bay and Ocean Pavilion where you get to see hissing cockroaches and hermit crabs. While we were at the hermit crab touch tank, anytime Amanda saw two hermit crabs anywhere near each other, she would ask in an exceptionally loud voice, "Are the mating?" or "Where are their genitals?" I obviously could not chide her for those questions because she used the appropriate terminology, but I myself am not mature enough the answer those questions, so I just shoved her over to one of the volunteers and allowed them to stutter over the explanation.
After Amanda learned all about hermit crab reproduction, we made our way over to the sting ray tank where you can actually stroke sting rays when they flap to the surface. Most of the kids were scared, but the sting rays seemed to really like being pet, and they would kind of bump the kids hands and snuggle with them. When George's hand skimmed over the back of one ray he yelled, "Feels like baloney!!!!!!!" I almost died from the cuteness and hilarity of this statement.
After our hands-on encounter with nature, we decided to go outside and walk around on the 1/2 mile trail they had. Here Kevin decided to become a jerk-demon from hell. He would either be running off somewhere, or lying on a bench, refusing to move. After threatening him with an office referral that would be waiting on the principal's desk on Monday, he eventually straightened up. However, he decided he would "pay me back" by climbing all over any display he could find once we were back in the building. And he really got me. Having him make that phone call to his father, explaining for himself how he was acting really stuck it to me.
Lunch seemed to rid Kevin off the demon-possession and any general crabbiness in the group. After eating we went back to look more closely at the animals we hadn't seen. Much to our excitement, we found the sea turtle tank. It's tucked away in this dark hallway with the aquarium taking up an entire wall. We all just sat down right in front of the tank as the turtles came up to us, bumping their noses on the glass. I looked over at one point and saw that George was laying on his back, looking up at the tank. Soon the rest of our group was doing the same thing, just staring at these huge creatures, with their prehistoric feet and smooth bellies. I have never heard a more silent group of children in my life. It was definitely one of those moments that I will never forget. At first I was bummed that I didn't get a picture of all of them spread out on the floor like that, but a photo really wouldn't have done it justice anyway.
After a quick IMAX movie about Sharks that was pretty boring, it was time to go home. Our trip down to the museum only took 1 hour and 45 minutes. However, the other driver (not the driver on my bus, thank you very much) was the leader for the route home and she chose to take some ass-backwards way that ended up taking 4 hours. Taylor was ordered to be silent about 30 minutes into the ride because she is physically unable to speak at a volume less than, like, 300 decibels. We watched "Finding Nemo" for the first hour and a half, thinking that would cover us for the majority of the trip. But no. The kids got so riled up and crabby that for the last 2 hours of the ride we turned off the lights and they were all ordered to go to sleep. They fought it at first, but soon all you could hear on the bus was the sound of 5th graders in a chorus of snores. Oh, and one chaperone's phone ringing every 10 minutes, followed by the following conversation:
Her: Hullo?!??
Other person: mmpmpjhpjpjpjjjppmm
Her: What?!?!?!?
Other person: msdlfkjsdjjjfjsji!!!
Her: Why don't you speak up?!?!?!?
Other person: MMFMDKSJHDKJHKJH!
Her: Ok then, bye.
We arrived back at school at 7:15- 2 hours and 15 minutes late, carrying two busloads of hungry children and greeted by 80 angry/worried/annoying parents. Not the best way to start the weekend. But hey, at least I got to gaze at turtle bellies for a while.
I spent my day with 4 kids. Read their names and brief descriptions below:
Kevin-All-American, blue-eyed boy with a charming smile and a "killer fastball." Pretty much guaranteed entry into any fraternity once he enters college on a full athletic scholarship. Very smart and sweet, but, more often than not, a pain in the ass.
Amanda-Very sweet but insecure young lady who wants to please all adults, and to talk about umcomfortable things with them.
Taylor-As ghetto-fabulous as they come and insists on wearing her down-jacket with the fur-lined hood at all times, but just with the hood hanging off of her head.
George-our favorite Egyptian friend who has recently added the phrases, "Come on, man" and "Dude, for real," to his vocabulary.
The rest of my students were passed along to my chaperones, who I must say were WONDERFUL today. I chose each of these kids to be in my group each for their own special reason. Kevin, because he lacks any shred of self-control. Amanda, because she has very little to say to children her own age and tends to have mental breakdowns when she can't communicate with them. Taylor, because she would just boss around anyone in her group, including (or, perhaps, especially) the chaperone. George, because I am one of the few adults who can actually understand what he says. It proved to be an interesting and, eventually, heartwarming day.
We started off in the Bay and Ocean Pavilion where you get to see hissing cockroaches and hermit crabs. While we were at the hermit crab touch tank, anytime Amanda saw two hermit crabs anywhere near each other, she would ask in an exceptionally loud voice, "Are the mating?" or "Where are their genitals?" I obviously could not chide her for those questions because she used the appropriate terminology, but I myself am not mature enough the answer those questions, so I just shoved her over to one of the volunteers and allowed them to stutter over the explanation.
After Amanda learned all about hermit crab reproduction, we made our way over to the sting ray tank where you can actually stroke sting rays when they flap to the surface. Most of the kids were scared, but the sting rays seemed to really like being pet, and they would kind of bump the kids hands and snuggle with them. When George's hand skimmed over the back of one ray he yelled, "Feels like baloney!!!!!!!" I almost died from the cuteness and hilarity of this statement.
After our hands-on encounter with nature, we decided to go outside and walk around on the 1/2 mile trail they had. Here Kevin decided to become a jerk-demon from hell. He would either be running off somewhere, or lying on a bench, refusing to move. After threatening him with an office referral that would be waiting on the principal's desk on Monday, he eventually straightened up. However, he decided he would "pay me back" by climbing all over any display he could find once we were back in the building. And he really got me. Having him make that phone call to his father, explaining for himself how he was acting really stuck it to me.
Lunch seemed to rid Kevin off the demon-possession and any general crabbiness in the group. After eating we went back to look more closely at the animals we hadn't seen. Much to our excitement, we found the sea turtle tank. It's tucked away in this dark hallway with the aquarium taking up an entire wall. We all just sat down right in front of the tank as the turtles came up to us, bumping their noses on the glass. I looked over at one point and saw that George was laying on his back, looking up at the tank. Soon the rest of our group was doing the same thing, just staring at these huge creatures, with their prehistoric feet and smooth bellies. I have never heard a more silent group of children in my life. It was definitely one of those moments that I will never forget. At first I was bummed that I didn't get a picture of all of them spread out on the floor like that, but a photo really wouldn't have done it justice anyway.
After a quick IMAX movie about Sharks that was pretty boring, it was time to go home. Our trip down to the museum only took 1 hour and 45 minutes. However, the other driver (not the driver on my bus, thank you very much) was the leader for the route home and she chose to take some ass-backwards way that ended up taking 4 hours. Taylor was ordered to be silent about 30 minutes into the ride because she is physically unable to speak at a volume less than, like, 300 decibels. We watched "Finding Nemo" for the first hour and a half, thinking that would cover us for the majority of the trip. But no. The kids got so riled up and crabby that for the last 2 hours of the ride we turned off the lights and they were all ordered to go to sleep. They fought it at first, but soon all you could hear on the bus was the sound of 5th graders in a chorus of snores. Oh, and one chaperone's phone ringing every 10 minutes, followed by the following conversation:
Her: Hullo?!??
Other person: mmpmpjhpjpjpjjjppmm
Her: What?!?!?!?
Other person: msdlfkjsdjjjfjsji!!!
Her: Why don't you speak up?!?!?!?
Other person: MMFMDKSJHDKJHKJH!
Her: Ok then, bye.
We arrived back at school at 7:15- 2 hours and 15 minutes late, carrying two busloads of hungry children and greeted by 80 angry/worried/annoying parents. Not the best way to start the weekend. But hey, at least I got to gaze at turtle bellies for a while.
Wednesday, November 30, 2005
I'm a Blogger-Girl, through and through
Sooooooo, I took a gander at this "Myspace" thing that everyone is so hyped about. I was thinking, "Ok, I've got the multiple blog thing goin' on, so maybe I'm ready to reach even further out into the Internet community. I began my exploration by looking up my hubs to see what his space on the Myspace was all about. What I found totally turned me off to this idea of making friends via a website all about making friends. I would say 97% of the friends he had listed on his profile are people he already knows in meat-space. That's not to say that I don't love each and everyone of the 97% very very much, but I'm just saying, I would rather have them at my house, messing up my kitchen and eating my food than looking at a teensy-weensy picture of them and sending messages back and forth. I much prefer the land of blogger well I selfishly only have to read what people have to say about what I think.
Tuesday, November 29, 2005
They've successfully chiseled their way into my heart.
This is my third year of teaching. I feel that I now have a pretty realistic view of the profession and the children that accompany it. Consequently, it takes a lot for the kids to get to me now, and it takes even more for them to win me over. I'm not saying that I'm mean to them-it just takes more for me to be blown away by them than it used to.
I automatically fell in love with every single one of my children my first year. By the end of the first day I was convinced that we would be bonded for life, and by the last day of school I honestly thought that I would never have a better or more loveable class.
The students from my second year seemed pretty nondescript to me for a while (except for the crazy one who was in the hallway for the entire 2nd semester). But, by Halloween, I was won over by their desire to behave and please any adult that came their way. At our 5th grade graduation I started crying as soon as my first kid walked up to the podium, and I could barely squeak out anyone else's name as they lined up in front of me.
Yesterday, I left school feeling like this:
I had spent the day trying to reign them back in from the excitement that is 4 days off from school- a prospect about as likely as Paris Hilton wearing underwear. I've often said that teaching is like trying to put puppies into a box: once you get one in, another one jumps out. Except yesterday I was dealing with puppies who had spent the long weekend either in front of the TV or in the car. They all just came in and exploded. Needless to say, I was thrilled to herd them out the door at 3:36 on the dot. This scenario was pretty typical to my 3rd year bunch. They came to me as the chattiest, laziest, nosiest bunch of buggars you ever did see.
However, today had a completely different feeling. Something clicked with us. I was happy to see them and they seemed genuinely excited to be there with me. I had great conversations with most of my kids today, realizing that we've finally gelled and I know what makes them tick. And something great occurred to me: they're growing up and I have the privilege of watching them. In fact, today, I was walking around the room during our silent reading time, really looking at the kids and thinking about how far they've come in just 3 months. For example, in September, Veronica couldn't be quiet for more than 5 minutes. Now she is my superstar in class-I can always look to her to be a leader when it comes to behavior. Brandon started out the year bouncing off the walls with attitude oozing out of every pore. Now he's a model of showing kindness to his classmate. As I walked around, I teared up to the point where I needed to get a tissue. Luckily, none of them saw me. If they had, an explanation as to why I was crying would have been necessary, and that would just start a flow of tears that would keep going through June when they line up to graduate.
I automatically fell in love with every single one of my children my first year. By the end of the first day I was convinced that we would be bonded for life, and by the last day of school I honestly thought that I would never have a better or more loveable class.
The students from my second year seemed pretty nondescript to me for a while (except for the crazy one who was in the hallway for the entire 2nd semester). But, by Halloween, I was won over by their desire to behave and please any adult that came their way. At our 5th grade graduation I started crying as soon as my first kid walked up to the podium, and I could barely squeak out anyone else's name as they lined up in front of me.
Yesterday, I left school feeling like this:
I had spent the day trying to reign them back in from the excitement that is 4 days off from school- a prospect about as likely as Paris Hilton wearing underwear. I've often said that teaching is like trying to put puppies into a box: once you get one in, another one jumps out. Except yesterday I was dealing with puppies who had spent the long weekend either in front of the TV or in the car. They all just came in and exploded. Needless to say, I was thrilled to herd them out the door at 3:36 on the dot. This scenario was pretty typical to my 3rd year bunch. They came to me as the chattiest, laziest, nosiest bunch of buggars you ever did see.
However, today had a completely different feeling. Something clicked with us. I was happy to see them and they seemed genuinely excited to be there with me. I had great conversations with most of my kids today, realizing that we've finally gelled and I know what makes them tick. And something great occurred to me: they're growing up and I have the privilege of watching them. In fact, today, I was walking around the room during our silent reading time, really looking at the kids and thinking about how far they've come in just 3 months. For example, in September, Veronica couldn't be quiet for more than 5 minutes. Now she is my superstar in class-I can always look to her to be a leader when it comes to behavior. Brandon started out the year bouncing off the walls with attitude oozing out of every pore. Now he's a model of showing kindness to his classmate. As I walked around, I teared up to the point where I needed to get a tissue. Luckily, none of them saw me. If they had, an explanation as to why I was crying would have been necessary, and that would just start a flow of tears that would keep going through June when they line up to graduate.
Saturday, November 26, 2005
Two Turkey Days. What's a girl to do?
Being a child of divorce, I end up having two of every holiday. On Thursday the hubs and I made our way to my brother's house for Thanksgiving with Dad. Today we (along with our friend Chris) trekked out to King William for Thanksgiving with Mom. I must say that the latter is just more fun for several reasons:
1) There is music. I don't mean music on the stereo. I mean live music, courtesy of my uncles, my brother, and their guitars and banjos. Sometime my mom and my aunt will sing.
2) There is a baby. My cousin had a baby in June and we are having so much fun getting to know the newest member of our family. I must say, I think she likes me best.
3) My Uncle Joe is there. Joe likes to lie. And not just fib. He tells complicated lies that could get him in trouble. But once he gets started on a lie, he'll stay with it until the end. For example, he recently called my mother and congratulated her for being a grandmother-to-be. He told her that Ross and I had called and announced we were having a baby. My mother half-believed him. Joe also likes to tell people he's just met that he's a gynecologist, just to see what they will do.
4) We hold hands when we say the blessing. Sometimes we have to spread out all over the house to fit everyone in, but I love it. Uncle Joe says grace every time and he's the best blessing-sayer on God's green earth.
5) People say "I love you" and hug each other a lot while we are there. I mean, what more could you ask for when you're around your family?
So there it is. I did what a child of divorce is never supposed to do: I chose a side. But I'm a grown up now, so I guess it's ok.
Happy Thanksgiving, everyone. I hope you felt the love, too.
1) There is music. I don't mean music on the stereo. I mean live music, courtesy of my uncles, my brother, and their guitars and banjos. Sometime my mom and my aunt will sing.
2) There is a baby. My cousin had a baby in June and we are having so much fun getting to know the newest member of our family. I must say, I think she likes me best.
3) My Uncle Joe is there. Joe likes to lie. And not just fib. He tells complicated lies that could get him in trouble. But once he gets started on a lie, he'll stay with it until the end. For example, he recently called my mother and congratulated her for being a grandmother-to-be. He told her that Ross and I had called and announced we were having a baby. My mother half-believed him. Joe also likes to tell people he's just met that he's a gynecologist, just to see what they will do.
4) We hold hands when we say the blessing. Sometimes we have to spread out all over the house to fit everyone in, but I love it. Uncle Joe says grace every time and he's the best blessing-sayer on God's green earth.
5) People say "I love you" and hug each other a lot while we are there. I mean, what more could you ask for when you're around your family?
So there it is. I did what a child of divorce is never supposed to do: I chose a side. But I'm a grown up now, so I guess it's ok.
Happy Thanksgiving, everyone. I hope you felt the love, too.
Monday, November 21, 2005
You have GOT to be kidding me...
As I strolled around the classroom this morning, watching my little darlings dutifully completing their study guides for tomorrow's test, an unpleasant smell whafted by my nose. It was indistinct at first, and still quite subtle. Then Veronica, a very sweet young lady who would rather die than cause a problem, whispers to me, "Mrs. Catrow, do you smell something?"
"Yes, Veronica, I do. Do you?"
"Yes, ma'am, and it's making my stomach hurt."
"Well, don't say anything because the rest of the class will just go crazy."
"OK," she muttered and tucked her nose inside of her shirt collar. I surveyed the room in a panic, checking to see if anyone else had noticed. Some of you may know that things such as bad smells, wasps, farts, and snot, will break a class's concentration for days if not handled immediately. Slowly, but surely, the other kids started looking around, and following Veronica's lead, their little noses hidden from the smell that we all recognized by that point. To give them credit, the kids got into line and changed classes without comment or incident. But suddenly, Charlie, being the narc that he is, rushed up to me in a fury.
"Mrs. Catrow! Makia's got Fart Spray."
"He's got WHAT?!?!?"
"Fart Spray. He just told me that he sprayed it in your room. He was spraying it on the bus, too."
"Well, why didn't you say something ealier, Charlie?!?!?!"
"I couldn't smell it earlier. Now my stomach hurts and I think he should stop."
I walked into Makia's math class and demanded that he come out into the hall. He automatically put on the "What did I do? I'm a perfect angel" face as he shuffled out into the hallway.
"Empty your pockets, Makia," I said in my scariest, monotone voice.
"Wha-why? All I have is lunch money."
"Empty your pockets right now."
He shuffled through his pants, showing me his lunch money in his front left pocket, his house key in his back pocket, all the while I'm noticing a suspicious shape in his front right pocket.
"Now that one," I said, pointing.
"I didn't spray it," he said emphatically.
"Didn't spray what? Show it to me." He reached into his pocket and pulled out this:
"I didn't spray it, I swear!" Makia kept insisting.
"Well, if you didn't do anything wrong, then I guess you have nothing to worry about when you explain to the principal why you even have this in school," I snapped, leading him swiftly up the hallway and into the office. As I presented my culprit to the office staff, I could tell that they all had trouble not laughing. Relieved of my hoodlum, I made my way back to my classroom, wondering, "When in the hell did I sign up to teach on Saved By the Bell?"
"Yes, Veronica, I do. Do you?"
"Yes, ma'am, and it's making my stomach hurt."
"Well, don't say anything because the rest of the class will just go crazy."
"OK," she muttered and tucked her nose inside of her shirt collar. I surveyed the room in a panic, checking to see if anyone else had noticed. Some of you may know that things such as bad smells, wasps, farts, and snot, will break a class's concentration for days if not handled immediately. Slowly, but surely, the other kids started looking around, and following Veronica's lead, their little noses hidden from the smell that we all recognized by that point. To give them credit, the kids got into line and changed classes without comment or incident. But suddenly, Charlie, being the narc that he is, rushed up to me in a fury.
"Mrs. Catrow! Makia's got Fart Spray."
"He's got WHAT?!?!?"
"Fart Spray. He just told me that he sprayed it in your room. He was spraying it on the bus, too."
"Well, why didn't you say something ealier, Charlie?!?!?!"
"I couldn't smell it earlier. Now my stomach hurts and I think he should stop."
I walked into Makia's math class and demanded that he come out into the hall. He automatically put on the "What did I do? I'm a perfect angel" face as he shuffled out into the hallway.
"Empty your pockets, Makia," I said in my scariest, monotone voice.
"Wha-why? All I have is lunch money."
"Empty your pockets right now."
He shuffled through his pants, showing me his lunch money in his front left pocket, his house key in his back pocket, all the while I'm noticing a suspicious shape in his front right pocket.
"Now that one," I said, pointing.
"I didn't spray it," he said emphatically.
"Didn't spray what? Show it to me." He reached into his pocket and pulled out this:
"I didn't spray it, I swear!" Makia kept insisting.
"Well, if you didn't do anything wrong, then I guess you have nothing to worry about when you explain to the principal why you even have this in school," I snapped, leading him swiftly up the hallway and into the office. As I presented my culprit to the office staff, I could tell that they all had trouble not laughing. Relieved of my hoodlum, I made my way back to my classroom, wondering, "When in the hell did I sign up to teach on Saved By the Bell?"
Wednesday, November 16, 2005
Eating the Oreos
Many of you know that I am not one to stuff myself full of deserts. I'll pretty much only try something sweet if i heart dorks has made it. In fact, I tend to prefer store-bought goodies over the homemade variety. Thus explains my love for the Oreo. On paper, there is nothing good about Oreos; they are expensive, bad for you, and many people can eat a bag in one sitting. And by many people, I mean me. I love them, deep in my heart of mega-hearts. But the thing is, it's not the crispy chocolate cookie outside, and the creamy...uh..cream center. It's HOW I eat the Oreo.
Throughout much of my childhood, as my body grew, so did my OCD tendencies. One thing that really got under my skin was how when you dunked the Oreos in milk, your glass was soon filled with cookie-bits, making the beverage undrinkable, by my texture-standards. As my brain matured, so did my Oreo eating technique. Below, you will find the steps that make the Oreo-eating experience all it can be. I share this with you because I love you and want to spread this perfection to all those who will listen.
1) Put the entire Oreo in your mouth. Yes, the whole thing. There will be no untwisting and licking of any creamy centers.
2) Take a sip of milk and hold it in your mouth. DO NOT SWALLOW. Yes, it's true. You now have an entire cookie and a mouthful of milk in there.
3) Just sit for a few seconds, allowing the milk to soften the cookie. 5-10 seconds should work.
4) Swallow the milk. Not the cookie, just the milk.
5) Chew up and swallow the cookie.
6) Send me a thank you card for opening up your mind to this bliss.
Throughout much of my childhood, as my body grew, so did my OCD tendencies. One thing that really got under my skin was how when you dunked the Oreos in milk, your glass was soon filled with cookie-bits, making the beverage undrinkable, by my texture-standards. As my brain matured, so did my Oreo eating technique. Below, you will find the steps that make the Oreo-eating experience all it can be. I share this with you because I love you and want to spread this perfection to all those who will listen.
1) Put the entire Oreo in your mouth. Yes, the whole thing. There will be no untwisting and licking of any creamy centers.
2) Take a sip of milk and hold it in your mouth. DO NOT SWALLOW. Yes, it's true. You now have an entire cookie and a mouthful of milk in there.
3) Just sit for a few seconds, allowing the milk to soften the cookie. 5-10 seconds should work.
4) Swallow the milk. Not the cookie, just the milk.
5) Chew up and swallow the cookie.
6) Send me a thank you card for opening up your mind to this bliss.
Monday, November 14, 2005
Mama pup's uterus causes public mockery of offspring
A golden retriever gave birth to a Martian-puppy. Ok, the puppy was actually just green. See? It seems less weird when you read that it was an alien first. Anyway, yeah it seems that the California Canine popped out a green one about week ago. Apparently the placenta can cause such things to happen. Ew. Clicky for the story and pics. Be sure to click on the slide show-the last image really shows the contrast between the normal puppies and the freak of nature.
Hormones make you hormonal. AWhaaaahhhhhh?!?!?!?!
The makers of the birth control patch Ortho-Evra issued a warning on Thursday that women taking this Patch get 60% more estrogen than women just taking the Pill. 60 effing percent! Apparently this is because when you take the Pill, most of the estrogen is absorbed into the bloodstream and digestive tract, causing about half of it to be "lost." Women on the Patch are getting a constant dose of estrogen throughout the day, making them more at risk for such side effects and blood clots. Or in my case, craziness.
I went on the Patch the last month of my senior year of college. I was all "I'm too busy to take the Pill and I just don't have time to, blah blah blah." Translation: I'm lazy and don't like having to *bring* them places and having to *remember* to take them. So I went on the Patch. And then I went insane. I would call Ross one minute, being totally in love with him and gushing about our impending nuptials, and the next minute be crying, insisting that he was only marrying me out of convenience. I called my doctor and literally said this, "Ever since I went on the Patch I've been going crazy and I cry a lot. Is that normal?" He said no and told me to take the Patch off. About an hour later I was completely fine. I've been with the good ol' fashioned Pill ever since. Moral of the story: Don't be lazy or you'll be crazy...and dead from blood clots.
I went on the Patch the last month of my senior year of college. I was all "I'm too busy to take the Pill and I just don't have time to, blah blah blah." Translation: I'm lazy and don't like having to *bring* them places and having to *remember* to take them. So I went on the Patch. And then I went insane. I would call Ross one minute, being totally in love with him and gushing about our impending nuptials, and the next minute be crying, insisting that he was only marrying me out of convenience. I called my doctor and literally said this, "Ever since I went on the Patch I've been going crazy and I cry a lot. Is that normal?" He said no and told me to take the Patch off. About an hour later I was completely fine. I've been with the good ol' fashioned Pill ever since. Moral of the story: Don't be lazy or you'll be crazy...and dead from blood clots.
Thursday, November 10, 2005
Call to action
I must say that I have been very disappointed with the lack of new posts on my friends' blogs. I try very hard to give you delicious morsels of my thoughts almost everyday, and I'm just not getting much back from the rest of you. Also, the whole posting something on 2 blogs, not cool in my book. Not. Cool.
Wednesday, November 09, 2005
I need a haircut
The time is approaching when it is just before my monthly shearing, and I want to cry every time I look in the mirror. Between Monday and today, my hair has apparently grown just enough to go from being quirky and cute to sans-shape and mom-like. It only could have grown fractions of an inch, but apparently those fractions are very important to the maintenance of my style. Just this weekend, my hair looked much like this:
Or that's what I like to think it looked like. And now, it's looking more like this:
Ok, maybe it's not that bad, but it feels that bad. So, if you are going to Stephanie and Van's rockstar chic dinner party on Friday night, be sure to compliment my hair, as I will be very much on edge in anticipation of my Saturday morning appointment.
Signed,
Vain Valerie
Or that's what I like to think it looked like. And now, it's looking more like this:
Ok, maybe it's not that bad, but it feels that bad. So, if you are going to Stephanie and Van's rockstar chic dinner party on Friday night, be sure to compliment my hair, as I will be very much on edge in anticipation of my Saturday morning appointment.
Signed,
Vain Valerie
Little minds are blown so easily
Soooooo, I have like the most boring day ever today because the kiddies are taking their quarterly math assessment. I don't teach math, so I'm simply here to proctor the test for half of the kids. It's a 50 question test and the answer sheet has places for answers to 60 problems. So, the kids reach the end of the test, mark the answer to problem 50, and have one of the two following reactions:
A. They have a complete kuniption (totally made up spelling), demanding to know where the rest of their test is because they are so terrified of failing (thank you, NCLB)
Or, my more favorite and the much more amusing B. They calmly raise their hands and ask me if they should just go back do numbers 1-10 and mark the answers in the spaces for 51-60 on the answer sheet.
Meanwhile, I've got 4 ESL children in here who can't even read the test. Pulic education, it's a magical mystical world of nonsense.
A. They have a complete kuniption (totally made up spelling), demanding to know where the rest of their test is because they are so terrified of failing (thank you, NCLB)
Or, my more favorite and the much more amusing B. They calmly raise their hands and ask me if they should just go back do numbers 1-10 and mark the answers in the spaces for 51-60 on the answer sheet.
Meanwhile, I've got 4 ESL children in here who can't even read the test. Pulic education, it's a magical mystical world of nonsense.
Tuesday, November 08, 2005
Another laugh
My first 2 conferences for this morning were cancelled, so I spent my time finding different pictures of my new favorite animal. After trying several variations of its name, I found that calling it the "Shoebill Stork" lead to some tasty discoveries, such as this:
AHHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAAA. Hoooooooooo.
AHHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAAA. Hoooooooooo.
Monday, November 07, 2005
Apparently I am 2 years old
My ears hurt like none other and it has put me in a horrible mood. I keep rubbing and pulling on them, just like a big, ol' baby. That's weird that we use the term "old baby." It doesn't make any sense. And that just makes me angrier. If you could see my face right now, it would look much like this:
Sunday, November 06, 2005
Good for a belly laugh
Last night, the hubs and I drifted off into dreamland while watching something on Animal Planet that counted down the ugliest animals ever. Topping the list was this guy:
Meet the Shoe-billed stork. If you look closely at this thing, it seems to belong more in Labyrinth than on our planet. Go ahead. Keep looking. The laughs will keep coming.
Meet the Shoe-billed stork. If you look closely at this thing, it seems to belong more in Labyrinth than on our planet. Go ahead. Keep looking. The laughs will keep coming.
Thursday, November 03, 2005
A little Taco Bell, and everything is ok
I left work (at 6:00pm, mind you) in quite a fluster today. As lead tech teacher at my school, report card time is pretty hectic for me. Last year we switch over to a report card system that is strictly done online. It's an incredibly easy program to use if you're of my generation, i.e. capable of basically just opening up a program and being able to figure it out. The thing is though, I work with ladies who are, on average, 25 years older than me. There is a constant flow of frustrated teachers in and out of my room all day, asking me questions that I have either answered a million times or have just addressed in a meticulously crafted email to the school. And yet through it all, by the grace of God, my patience stays with me and I manage to greet them all with a smile and a calming voice. Unfortunately though, my willingness to work with them caused my car to be the last one to leave the parking lot this evening. The recent time change has caused it to be very dark at 6:00 now, so Estelle the night custodian walked me out to my car, carrying her broom in a very formidable way.
The whole way home all I could think about was all of the crap I needed to get done tonight and all of the looming junk of tomorrow. I shlumped my way inside the house and was greeted by my husband, all handsome in his white T-shirt, bearing not only a Taco Bell dinner (and, no, he didn't forget the Fiesta Potatoes), but also my prescription that he selflessly picked up for me. Needless to say, I now feel a million times better and will enthusiastically recommend marriage to anyone who asks me. Especially marriage to someone like my guy.
The whole way home all I could think about was all of the crap I needed to get done tonight and all of the looming junk of tomorrow. I shlumped my way inside the house and was greeted by my husband, all handsome in his white T-shirt, bearing not only a Taco Bell dinner (and, no, he didn't forget the Fiesta Potatoes), but also my prescription that he selflessly picked up for me. Needless to say, I now feel a million times better and will enthusiastically recommend marriage to anyone who asks me. Especially marriage to someone like my guy.
Tuesday, November 01, 2005
Oh, George
I think the best part of teaching in my school is that we have a very high ESL population. A lot of teachers look at this as a drawback when it comes to SOL scores, but the sheer joy of being around these kids dramatically outweighs the struggles. My school has very high Hispanic and Asian populations, and the number of Middle Eastern students is going up substantially every year. Most of the time, when these kids come through our doors they are "right off the boat" as we inappropriately put it. This basically means they know how to say "hello," "goodbye," and "Where is the bathroom?" That's pretty much it.
This year I am blessed to have a young man named George in my room. George is 11 years old and from Egypt. Funny enough, that was all he could say to me the first week of school. I would ask, "George do you have your lunch money?" And he would respond each time, without fail, "I am George. I am from Egypt." The sad thing is, the reason why he probably just said that is when someone finds out that a kid is in the ESL program, they just ask them their name and where they are from, that's about it. But George made it through his first week beautifully, smiling the whole time. We found a way to communicate through a lot of nodding, pointing, and repeating things very loudly. I only have George for homeroom, Science, and Social Studies, two subjects that he doesn't get a grade in because of his limited English proficiency. He goes to another teacher for Math and Reading, so his time with me is intended basically as a way for him to just absorb as much English as possible within a context different from reading books and writing sentences.
Teaching George has been a challenge. Everyday I am left with no choice but to stretch my teaching abilities to the limit, looking for ways to make information accessible for him, to present it in a way that helps his language skills and knowledge of the material grow. And I love it so much. We have so much fun together and his smile is one of those that makes you belive in God.
Last week, I had the privilege of meeting with George's parents. They speak no English whatsoever, but we were able to secure an interpreter for our meeting. In my time teaching I have sat in on several conferences with our ESL parents, but never have I been part of a meeting where I truly realized what these parents and children go through when they decide to come to this country. First, the majority of the conference was conducted in Arabic which has a cadence and tone that bares no resemblance to English whatsoever, so I had no clue what was being said. Not only that, I found out that these parents left their own successful businesses in Egypt to come work factory graveyard shifts in the U.S. so their kids would be able to have an American education. Meanwhile, they are unable to even help their kids with their homework because they don't understand the language it's written in, or even how the grading system works. But the thing that really got to me was that never once did it seem like they were complaining. All they wanted to know was if there was anything more that they could be doing at home and if we needed anything here at school. One of the few phrases these parents knew was "thank you" and they kept turning to me and saying it over and over again, knowing that I would understand how much they appreciate the work I do with and for their son. I was completely blown away.
I really don't know the point of this post, except to just explain how lucky I am to be where I am. Within our county, my school is definitely one of the "have nots" as we call them. Parental involvement is almost nonexistent and, consequently, our kids have to go without a lot of the time. But, I'm just sayin', I'd rather have a kid like George than a new computer any day.
This year I am blessed to have a young man named George in my room. George is 11 years old and from Egypt. Funny enough, that was all he could say to me the first week of school. I would ask, "George do you have your lunch money?" And he would respond each time, without fail, "I am George. I am from Egypt." The sad thing is, the reason why he probably just said that is when someone finds out that a kid is in the ESL program, they just ask them their name and where they are from, that's about it. But George made it through his first week beautifully, smiling the whole time. We found a way to communicate through a lot of nodding, pointing, and repeating things very loudly. I only have George for homeroom, Science, and Social Studies, two subjects that he doesn't get a grade in because of his limited English proficiency. He goes to another teacher for Math and Reading, so his time with me is intended basically as a way for him to just absorb as much English as possible within a context different from reading books and writing sentences.
Teaching George has been a challenge. Everyday I am left with no choice but to stretch my teaching abilities to the limit, looking for ways to make information accessible for him, to present it in a way that helps his language skills and knowledge of the material grow. And I love it so much. We have so much fun together and his smile is one of those that makes you belive in God.
Last week, I had the privilege of meeting with George's parents. They speak no English whatsoever, but we were able to secure an interpreter for our meeting. In my time teaching I have sat in on several conferences with our ESL parents, but never have I been part of a meeting where I truly realized what these parents and children go through when they decide to come to this country. First, the majority of the conference was conducted in Arabic which has a cadence and tone that bares no resemblance to English whatsoever, so I had no clue what was being said. Not only that, I found out that these parents left their own successful businesses in Egypt to come work factory graveyard shifts in the U.S. so their kids would be able to have an American education. Meanwhile, they are unable to even help their kids with their homework because they don't understand the language it's written in, or even how the grading system works. But the thing that really got to me was that never once did it seem like they were complaining. All they wanted to know was if there was anything more that they could be doing at home and if we needed anything here at school. One of the few phrases these parents knew was "thank you" and they kept turning to me and saying it over and over again, knowing that I would understand how much they appreciate the work I do with and for their son. I was completely blown away.
I really don't know the point of this post, except to just explain how lucky I am to be where I am. Within our county, my school is definitely one of the "have nots" as we call them. Parental involvement is almost nonexistent and, consequently, our kids have to go without a lot of the time. But, I'm just sayin', I'd rather have a kid like George than a new computer any day.
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