Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Random Thoughts on a Wednesday....
We have to watch Buzz Aldrin dance again next week? Seriously?
Ditto Ochocinco. And Kate Gosselin. And Pamela Anderson. Couldn't they have had a four-way elimination? I'm just sayin'.....
They have Spanx for men. Wouldn't you think the men who would wear Spanx for men would have just gone ahead and worn Spanx for women? I'm just sayin'.....
It's that time of year when our smart/motivated/desperate students have figured out that as soon as they finish their coursework, they don't have to come anymore, and they are kicking it in. Guess who that leaves us with for the next gazillion days? And that's just until Spring Break.
It's that time of year in the South when I'm wrapped up on a blanket in the mornings and wearing shorts and flip-flops in the afternoon. Heat on in the car on the way to school, air conditioner on the way home.
I'm having lunch with some of our students and some local leaders, including our incoming superintendent, this Friday. That means I can't wear jeans. But I think I'll wear my "blouse" that has Harley-Davidson embroidered across the back.
My hair is now long enough to French braid. I will have to stop myself from wearing it that way every single day.
I had a parent "conference" this afternoon with the mother of one of my online students. I was drinking a beer. I love teaching virtually.
Tomorrow is the birthday of my step-daughter's ex-husband. I could really use that hard drive space for something useful. Where is my delete key?
Hubby was trying to describe what Gus looked like after rolling in the leaves this afternoon. We spent 10 minutes trying to come up with the words "ghillie suit". Then we had to research (if you can consider Wikipedia real research) to find out that it is Gaelic in origin and originally meant "servant."
I just don't believe my sweet boy looked anything at all like that.
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Unexpected Surprises.....
Yes, I am completely aware of the redundancy of that title.
I won't bore you with (all of) the details, but today was just a grumpy day. So far it's been a grumpy week. Some might argue that it's been a grumpy life, and I just might be happy to chop them off at the kneecaps. I'm just sayin'.
Beginning with the clothing drama this morning. It didn't really begin with that, though. It began with someone who is R-E-T-I-R-E-D getting up at 5:30 AM and screwing up my morning routine. I really wanted to watch Dancing with the Stars from last night.
What I didn't want to do was listen to someone mutter through the whole newscast.
Sorry, I've blogged about that before. Moving on.
THEN came the clothing issues. No time to iron, toes not ready for capris and sandals, too warm for sweaters and turtlenecks. Yay for that. I dug to the back of the closet and picked out something loose and comfy to go with generic gray slacks.
While SOMEONE stood in the doorway, whistling tunelessly. I don't think he knows he does it.
Two outfits later, also dug from the back of the closet, I stomped downstairs.
"That's not what you picked out," he said, glancing up from his precious Soduko puzzle.
OH, SO YOU PICK NOW TO NOTICE WHAT I'M WEARING? AFTER (ALMOST) 13 YEARS? SERIOUSLY?
As I said, it's been a grumpy day. He really is the world's last perfect man. Most of the time.
I realized on the way to school that I hadn't eaten breakfast. Sometimes I take it with me and eat after I get there. Today I forgot, and the only thing I had at school was chicken noodle soup.
Just try starting your day off with chicken noodle soup for breakfast. You'll be mean too, I guarantee. Particularly if you only have one little packet of club crackers to go in it.
Then I grumped at students all day. None of it was undeserved, but grumping takes energy. Then after school we had two interviews, one of whom canceled 10 minutes before her appointment (great first impression), and the other of whom was so totally wrong for our program that I wanted to smack the person who recommended him to us. Except she apparently already has a traumatic brain injury, because that's the ONLY excuse she could have for entertaining the foggiest notion that he would be successful at our school.
I know you're wondering when the hell I'm going to get to the unexpected surprise.
Actually, there were two.
First of all, Hubby wasn't home when I got home. Now don't get me wrong, I love him dearly, but his absence meant that I could watch the recording of DWTS that I thought was going to have to wait until his next golf trip to watch.
Then there was a check (finally) for the ugly motorcycle that I won last October and the guy finally sold it for us. That wasn't unexpected, though.
The unexpected surprise was from a certain motor company's financing division. I thought my car would be paid off in October. We paid way too much money for way too many bells and whistles, and then we got 0% financing, so the payments are waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaayyy too much every month. I was looking forward to October, when I would no longer be enslaved to car payments.
The letter came today informing me that this month I will make my last payment.
I feel like I just got a big raise.
I could almost foot the bill for a Sisters' Weekend in Missouri weekend after next.
I'm just sayin'.
I won't bore you with (all of) the details, but today was just a grumpy day. So far it's been a grumpy week. Some might argue that it's been a grumpy life, and I just might be happy to chop them off at the kneecaps. I'm just sayin'.
Beginning with the clothing drama this morning. It didn't really begin with that, though. It began with someone who is R-E-T-I-R-E-D getting up at 5:30 AM and screwing up my morning routine. I really wanted to watch Dancing with the Stars from last night.
What I didn't want to do was listen to someone mutter through the whole newscast.
Sorry, I've blogged about that before. Moving on.
THEN came the clothing issues. No time to iron, toes not ready for capris and sandals, too warm for sweaters and turtlenecks. Yay for that. I dug to the back of the closet and picked out something loose and comfy to go with generic gray slacks.
While SOMEONE stood in the doorway, whistling tunelessly. I don't think he knows he does it.
Two outfits later, also dug from the back of the closet, I stomped downstairs.
"That's not what you picked out," he said, glancing up from his precious Soduko puzzle.
OH, SO YOU PICK NOW TO NOTICE WHAT I'M WEARING? AFTER (ALMOST) 13 YEARS? SERIOUSLY?
As I said, it's been a grumpy day. He really is the world's last perfect man. Most of the time.
I realized on the way to school that I hadn't eaten breakfast. Sometimes I take it with me and eat after I get there. Today I forgot, and the only thing I had at school was chicken noodle soup.
Just try starting your day off with chicken noodle soup for breakfast. You'll be mean too, I guarantee. Particularly if you only have one little packet of club crackers to go in it.
Then I grumped at students all day. None of it was undeserved, but grumping takes energy. Then after school we had two interviews, one of whom canceled 10 minutes before her appointment (great first impression), and the other of whom was so totally wrong for our program that I wanted to smack the person who recommended him to us. Except she apparently already has a traumatic brain injury, because that's the ONLY excuse she could have for entertaining the foggiest notion that he would be successful at our school.
I know you're wondering when the hell I'm going to get to the unexpected surprise.
Actually, there were two.
First of all, Hubby wasn't home when I got home. Now don't get me wrong, I love him dearly, but his absence meant that I could watch the recording of DWTS that I thought was going to have to wait until his next golf trip to watch.
Then there was a check (finally) for the ugly motorcycle that I won last October and the guy finally sold it for us. That wasn't unexpected, though.
The unexpected surprise was from a certain motor company's financing division. I thought my car would be paid off in October. We paid way too much money for way too many bells and whistles, and then we got 0% financing, so the payments are waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaayyy too much every month. I was looking forward to October, when I would no longer be enslaved to car payments.
The letter came today informing me that this month I will make my last payment.
I feel like I just got a big raise.
I could almost foot the bill for a Sisters' Weekend in Missouri weekend after next.
I'm just sayin'.
Monday, March 29, 2010
I Would Hate to Have Me for a Customer......
I don't know about anyone else, but I hate calling customer service folks.
I hate it so badly that when I have to call them, I go into the whole situation with a chip on my shoulder, and I get mad at them even before I tell them my problem.
I so hate being like my mother.
It's even worse when I have to call customer service for a product that is not mine, therefore the problem is not mine, but I have to do the calling, the waiting, the listening to crappy music, and the clicking, because "You know what to tell them."
Hubby has a GPS that he uses for golfing. I can't complain, since A) I have a GPS on my bicycle, for Pete's sake; and B) I bought it for him. When we first got it, I was happy to download the courses he plays most frequently, install the software, register the system, yada yada yada. But then I was done.
When it came time to renew his subscription, because heaven forbid they should offer anything that lasts for, say, the life of the device, I was annoyed. It's his damn toy, so why do I have to renew it?
We downloaded and paid, and then Hubby started getting messages on the device that he needed to renew. Grrrrrr.......
Naturally it fell to me to call the toll-free number and talk to the customer service rep on the other end. It also fell to me to perform this onerous chore on a Monday afternoon when I am still tired from the weekend and line dancing was canceled and I haven't been to the grocery store yet and someone who is RETIRED didn't think it was important enough for him to do and I didn't know what I was going to do about dinner.
I was so annoyed that I was the one having to call that I got testy with him. And he hadn't done a thing. Well, except for talking to me like I was just a little bit dumb, which I felt like in the first place, and maybe, just maybe, that is my problem. I don't like having to admit that I don't know how to fix something.
It is a little scary that they can just take over my computer and fix things remotely.
I want to call the nice man back and apologize for being annoyed with him. Instead I guess I'll just feel icky about it all night.
I hate it so badly that when I have to call them, I go into the whole situation with a chip on my shoulder, and I get mad at them even before I tell them my problem.
I so hate being like my mother.
It's even worse when I have to call customer service for a product that is not mine, therefore the problem is not mine, but I have to do the calling, the waiting, the listening to crappy music, and the clicking, because "You know what to tell them."
Hubby has a GPS that he uses for golfing. I can't complain, since A) I have a GPS on my bicycle, for Pete's sake; and B) I bought it for him. When we first got it, I was happy to download the courses he plays most frequently, install the software, register the system, yada yada yada. But then I was done.
When it came time to renew his subscription, because heaven forbid they should offer anything that lasts for, say, the life of the device, I was annoyed. It's his damn toy, so why do I have to renew it?
We downloaded and paid, and then Hubby started getting messages on the device that he needed to renew. Grrrrrr.......
Naturally it fell to me to call the toll-free number and talk to the customer service rep on the other end. It also fell to me to perform this onerous chore on a Monday afternoon when I am still tired from the weekend and line dancing was canceled and I haven't been to the grocery store yet and someone who is RETIRED didn't think it was important enough for him to do and I didn't know what I was going to do about dinner.
I was so annoyed that I was the one having to call that I got testy with him. And he hadn't done a thing. Well, except for talking to me like I was just a little bit dumb, which I felt like in the first place, and maybe, just maybe, that is my problem. I don't like having to admit that I don't know how to fix something.
It is a little scary that they can just take over my computer and fix things remotely.
I want to call the nice man back and apologize for being annoyed with him. Instead I guess I'll just feel icky about it all night.
Sunday, March 28, 2010
My Terrorble Camera......
When we left to go to the gymnastics championships yesterday, we were prepared to get the car out of valet parking.
[An aside: Is it just me, or has anyone else discovered that the higher scale the hotel, the fewer things are free? I'm specifically referencing internet that costs $10.00 for 24 hours and valet parking that is a freakin' $20.00 PER NIGHT. I understand completely that they want to make a profit, but even the cheapy-cheapies have free wireless in the rooms these days.]
Then we saw a group of fans walking toward the tailgate area, which was (theoretically) next to the arena where the meet was being held. Since this group was composed of **ahem** older women, we decided to walk too. It was (theoretically) only a block or two, so we took off on foot, saying it would replace the exercise we hadn't done that day anyway.
It was overcast and cool, and the wind was blowing off the river with gale force. Perhaps that's a slight exaggeration, but we only had on t-shirts. Oh, and jeans. We walked the 2.7 miles (GPS doesn't lie) to the tailgate location, which was BEYOND the arena. We were still really early for the meet, which as it turns out was a good thing.
They weren't even allowing spectators in the building yet, but they said they would go ahead and search bags and let us get in line. We were five minutes away from the doors opening, at which point we could finally sit down and rest out of the wind and chill.
When the dude got to my camera bag, he said, "I can't let you in with that."
I thought he was joking.
"Nothing larger than a personal camera."
I was puzzled. "But it IS a personal camera."
"It has interchangeable lenses. You can't bring it in."
Seriously? SERIOUSLY?
Because clearly a terrorist is going to use a Canon Digital Rebel to create a bomb. And clearly the most obvious target for a terrorist attack in the freakin' United States is a college GYMNASTICS MEET.
He wouldn't budge. I waited while he told a Bama fan in the next line the same thing. Her attempt at bypassing the rule?
"I wasn't actually going to take pictures with it." Nice try, lady.
There was no where for me to leave my camera. Ironically, I had debated about whether or not even to take it in the first place, since I usually get too absorbed in the meet to take many quality pictures anyway. And with all four events occurring simultaneously, my attention span was already severely compromised.
It's a good thing we were so early when we discovered this potential threat to homeland security. There was nothing we could do but walk back to the hotel and leave the camera there.
We had no qualms this time about getting the car out of valet. At $20.00 per night, we were happy to have them earn their money.
**************
No, we didn't win. But individuals on our team won first on three out of four events and took second in the fourth. We came in third out of seven teams in the team total. We could have done better on bars, but we didn't collapse entirely, and there was just no way anyone could beat Florida. Dammit. On to regionals and the NCAAs.
[An aside: Is it just me, or has anyone else discovered that the higher scale the hotel, the fewer things are free? I'm specifically referencing internet that costs $10.00 for 24 hours and valet parking that is a freakin' $20.00 PER NIGHT. I understand completely that they want to make a profit, but even the cheapy-cheapies have free wireless in the rooms these days.]
Then we saw a group of fans walking toward the tailgate area, which was (theoretically) next to the arena where the meet was being held. Since this group was composed of **ahem** older women, we decided to walk too. It was (theoretically) only a block or two, so we took off on foot, saying it would replace the exercise we hadn't done that day anyway.
It was overcast and cool, and the wind was blowing off the river with gale force. Perhaps that's a slight exaggeration, but we only had on t-shirts. Oh, and jeans. We walked the 2.7 miles (GPS doesn't lie) to the tailgate location, which was BEYOND the arena. We were still really early for the meet, which as it turns out was a good thing.
They weren't even allowing spectators in the building yet, but they said they would go ahead and search bags and let us get in line. We were five minutes away from the doors opening, at which point we could finally sit down and rest out of the wind and chill.
When the dude got to my camera bag, he said, "I can't let you in with that."
I thought he was joking.
"Nothing larger than a personal camera."
I was puzzled. "But it IS a personal camera."
"It has interchangeable lenses. You can't bring it in."
Seriously? SERIOUSLY?
Because clearly a terrorist is going to use a Canon Digital Rebel to create a bomb. And clearly the most obvious target for a terrorist attack in the freakin' United States is a college GYMNASTICS MEET.
He wouldn't budge. I waited while he told a Bama fan in the next line the same thing. Her attempt at bypassing the rule?
"I wasn't actually going to take pictures with it." Nice try, lady.
There was no where for me to leave my camera. Ironically, I had debated about whether or not even to take it in the first place, since I usually get too absorbed in the meet to take many quality pictures anyway. And with all four events occurring simultaneously, my attention span was already severely compromised.
It's a good thing we were so early when we discovered this potential threat to homeland security. There was nothing we could do but walk back to the hotel and leave the camera there.
We had no qualms this time about getting the car out of valet. At $20.00 per night, we were happy to have them earn their money.
**************
No, we didn't win. But individuals on our team won first on three out of four events and took second in the fourth. We came in third out of seven teams in the team total. We could have done better on bars, but we didn't collapse entirely, and there was just no way anyone could beat Florida. Dammit. On to regionals and the NCAAs.
Saturday, March 27, 2010
I Have an App for That........
My favorite line (so far) from Sisters' Weekend:
Katydid (for the eight hundredth time): I have an app for that.
Nurse Jane: Do you have an app to remove a curling iron from your ass?
Other lines are hilarious, but you'd have to be there to understand them.
Like the idea of beavers making honey.
"Mama. Oh my Gawd."
Valet parking and unparking and parking and unparking.
"When do we eat?"
"This is a full-service hotel."
"I got no cell 'cause I'm a pothole."
"Chomp this."
Recalculating.
Katydid (for the eight hundredth time): I have an app for that.
Nurse Jane: Do you have an app to remove a curling iron from your ass?
Other lines are hilarious, but you'd have to be there to understand them.
Like the idea of beavers making honey.
"Mama. Oh my Gawd."
Valet parking and unparking and parking and unparking.
"When do we eat?"
"This is a full-service hotel."
"I got no cell 'cause I'm a pothole."
"Chomp this."
Recalculating.
Friday, March 26, 2010
Prayer to the Gymnastics Goddesses......
To the goddesses of gymnastics:
I realize we can't win every year. But in case you've forgotten, we didn't win LAST year. Is it too soon to request it again?
I realize this has been a up-and-down year, and we haven't established ourselves with any consistency.
I realize we are just one team in the toughest conference in the country, with all 7 teams in the top 20.
I realize there are more important things than college gymnastics. Just not this weekend.
I realize we can't always be the best.
If it is in our destiny not to win this weekend, please let it be because the other teams were just better.
Don't let it be because we doomed ourselves by falling off the beam, stepping out of bounds, slipping off the bars, or taking extra steps on the vault.
And if you could find it in your heart to hand out a 10 or two or three.........
Please let those go our way too.
I'm not asking too much, am I?
I realize we can't win every year. But in case you've forgotten, we didn't win LAST year. Is it too soon to request it again?
I realize this has been a up-and-down year, and we haven't established ourselves with any consistency.
I realize we are just one team in the toughest conference in the country, with all 7 teams in the top 20.
I realize there are more important things than college gymnastics. Just not this weekend.
I realize we can't always be the best.
If it is in our destiny not to win this weekend, please let it be because the other teams were just better.
Don't let it be because we doomed ourselves by falling off the beam, stepping out of bounds, slipping off the bars, or taking extra steps on the vault.
And if you could find it in your heart to hand out a 10 or two or three.........
Please let those go our way too.
I'm not asking too much, am I?
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Some of Life's Greatest Mysteries......
On a field trip a couple of weeks ago, a colleague took this picture of one of our girls.
At the bottom is a Bible verse, "And give yourself completely to God" (Romans 6:13).
It is a powerful sentiment, "True Love Waits," and it takes a strong teen to wear it proudly these days.
Her baby is due the first week in June
*****************************************
This is a bottle of dishwashing detergent sitting on the shelf above the sink in our cafeteria. Our cafeteria isn't actually used to COOK food. Our building is an old elementary school, and I think it outlived its health code sometime around 1954. Our students' lunches are brought in from one of the area middle schools.
This bottle of detergent may have been sitting there when Truman was in office.
Once again, I apologize for the poor quality of these photos, taken with my iPhone which is mostly a phone and only to a lesser degree a camera. I KNEW I wanted to take this picture, but I still didn't remember to take my camera to school.
I want to point out that this bottle of dishwashing detergent has an expiration date.
Seriously?
Just what happens when dishwashing detergent expires? Does it taste bad? Isn't it SUPPOSED to taste bad? Or does it begin to taste GOOD, thereby negating its usefulness as a tool for mothers to wash their children's mouths out?
If we are found guilty of violating a code for having a bottle of dishwashing detergent that is past its expiration date, who is going to write us up? The nutrition manager? Or the head custodian?
*****************************************
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Estrogen Fest........
This weekend is going to be a very special one, because I get to spend it not only with my two sisters, but my very own Sweet Girl. I haven't seen her since .... last June? can it be that long? ... but I will finally get to hug her this weekend. If she'll let me hug her, that is.
The three sisters are going to watch the SEC Gymnastics Championships (please let us do well, please let us do well, please let us do well), which just happen to be taking place in the city where Sweet Girl lives. She is going to attend the meet with us, and she is almost guaranteed to be embarrassed by the antics of her mother and two aunts. But she's outnumbered, so she'll just have to grin and bear it. Sorry, Sweet Girl, but your seat is right there with ours! We'll be in good company, though, so just roll with the flow.
We will stay up past our bedtime, scream until we're hoarse (yes, at a gymnastics meet, for Pete's sake), eat too much, and laugh until we cry.
It's how we roll.
The three sisters are going to watch the SEC Gymnastics Championships (please let us do well, please let us do well, please let us do well), which just happen to be taking place in the city where Sweet Girl lives. She is going to attend the meet with us, and she is almost guaranteed to be embarrassed by the antics of her mother and two aunts. But she's outnumbered, so she'll just have to grin and bear it. Sorry, Sweet Girl, but your seat is right there with ours! We'll be in good company, though, so just roll with the flow.
We will stay up past our bedtime, scream until we're hoarse (yes, at a gymnastics meet, for Pete's sake), eat too much, and laugh until we cry.
It's how we roll.
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Pick Me, Pick Me.......
This morning I encountered a colleague on my way to fill up my half-gallon mug with ice and water. I fill it up every morning, right after I pour most of the water out from the day before. I really try to drink it all, but I get too busy. Good thing, too, because I'm usually too busy to go to the bathroom as well.
I think Fate put me in this job so she could sit back and laugh. I don't multi-task very well, and my current job requires it. At one point today I was giving students retakes on quizzes, setting three of my advisees up in new courses, texting back and forth with one of my online students, emailing my travel agent because I didn't have my booking number for our cruise yet, creating a lesson for tonight's online lesson [one of the few times I haven't waited until 6:30 to decide what to teach at 7:30], taking a phone call from the guy from whom I won a motorcycle almost 6 months ago and have yet to see either the bike or the cash, texting Hubby to see if what we'd been offered for the bike was enough, writing a letter to the IRS in response to the Nastygram we got from them last Friday, and wondering why I couldn't find time to go down the hall to the restroom.
In my former life as a traditional classroom teacher, I couldn't stand chaos. If I had two ninth grade English classes studying the same play/story/novel, the class period had to end AT THE SAME EXACT PLACE the other class left off, and never mind if we'd had a pep rally, a bomb threat evacuation, a fire drill, a verdict for a major former professional football player that the principal actually encouraged us to turn on during class, or a flood. Those two classes had to start the next day in the SAME EXACT PLACE.
Oh, how Fate must be laughing at me now.
Back to my colleague.
He asked how many days I had left, and without hesitation I responded "399." He chuckled and said something along the lines that it doesn't matter, because "they're going to retire folks like you and me before we want them to."
Too late, buddy. There's no way in hell they can force me to retire before I want to, unless they want to go back in time.
Don't get me wrong, I love my job. For every day like yesterday, when I find myself hating some children, I have three or four when I think I'm making a difference and I find myself loving some other children. And even if they are eighteen years old, they're still children.
But if they would let me take full retirement right now, I would jump at the chance.
As soon as they realize they could replace my doctorate pay (#60 on the county's list, remember) with someone just out of college......
Could someone put a bug in their ears please?
I think Fate put me in this job so she could sit back and laugh. I don't multi-task very well, and my current job requires it. At one point today I was giving students retakes on quizzes, setting three of my advisees up in new courses, texting back and forth with one of my online students, emailing my travel agent because I didn't have my booking number for our cruise yet, creating a lesson for tonight's online lesson [one of the few times I haven't waited until 6:30 to decide what to teach at 7:30], taking a phone call from the guy from whom I won a motorcycle almost 6 months ago and have yet to see either the bike or the cash, texting Hubby to see if what we'd been offered for the bike was enough, writing a letter to the IRS in response to the Nastygram we got from them last Friday, and wondering why I couldn't find time to go down the hall to the restroom.
In my former life as a traditional classroom teacher, I couldn't stand chaos. If I had two ninth grade English classes studying the same play/story/novel, the class period had to end AT THE SAME EXACT PLACE the other class left off, and never mind if we'd had a pep rally, a bomb threat evacuation, a fire drill, a verdict for a major former professional football player that the principal actually encouraged us to turn on during class, or a flood. Those two classes had to start the next day in the SAME EXACT PLACE.
Oh, how Fate must be laughing at me now.
Back to my colleague.
He asked how many days I had left, and without hesitation I responded "399." He chuckled and said something along the lines that it doesn't matter, because "they're going to retire folks like you and me before we want them to."
Too late, buddy. There's no way in hell they can force me to retire before I want to, unless they want to go back in time.
Don't get me wrong, I love my job. For every day like yesterday, when I find myself hating some children, I have three or four when I think I'm making a difference and I find myself loving some other children. And even if they are eighteen years old, they're still children.
But if they would let me take full retirement right now, I would jump at the chance.
As soon as they realize they could replace my doctorate pay (#60 on the county's list, remember) with someone just out of college......
Could someone put a bug in their ears please?
Monday, March 22, 2010
Bookends of Conflict......
We started out the day with a girl fight over a cell phone, the second time in ten days this particular flake student has had a cell phone "stolen." She accused another girl, someone who usually avoids conflict like the plague. The accused took all she could take, then she proceeded to beat the slop out of the accuser. Whose cell phone turned up in the parking lot when her mother came to pick her up from school. They are both suspended from school for the rest of the week. Too bad for one of them; not enough for the other.
Then at line dancing tonight ........ LINE DANCING FERCRYINOUTLOUD ....... AT THE YMCA!!!!! ....... there was a near mutiny. I won't bore you with the details, but there are two twits in the line dancing group who like to show off and put turns, spins, leaps, and silliness into the dances where they aren't choreographed. One of them is a high school cheerleader, so you can almost forgive her. The other one is grown, though, and should know better. We were into our first dance of the night when one of the regulars marched out. She'd had all the silliness she could take. Then Mr. Patel, who must be around 70 years old but loves him some line dancing, began to complain, saying if those two were going to disrupt the rest of us, they should go stay in the back. [I didn't bother pointing out that in line dancing we often rotate and face all four walls, and they would at some point HAVE to be in the front.]
Our sweet little (she must weigh all of 90 pounds) instructor tried to tell him that she can't tell people HOW to dance, and he continued to complain. Loudly.
They get on my nerves too, but I mostly ignore them. I guess I can see both sides of the issue. They are entitled to do the dances any way they see fit, but I can also see where Mr. Patel and some of the others might find them a bit distracting. Some people aren't secure enough in their own dancing, and they depend upon watching some of the other dancers. If what they're watching isn't what they've been taught, they get confused. This is, however, billed as an "advanced beginner to intermediate" class, and many of them have been dancing together since last summer.
Personally, I've had my fill of conflict already this week.
Then at line dancing tonight ........ LINE DANCING FERCRYINOUTLOUD ....... AT THE YMCA!!!!! ....... there was a near mutiny. I won't bore you with the details, but there are two twits in the line dancing group who like to show off and put turns, spins, leaps, and silliness into the dances where they aren't choreographed. One of them is a high school cheerleader, so you can almost forgive her. The other one is grown, though, and should know better. We were into our first dance of the night when one of the regulars marched out. She'd had all the silliness she could take. Then Mr. Patel, who must be around 70 years old but loves him some line dancing, began to complain, saying if those two were going to disrupt the rest of us, they should go stay in the back. [I didn't bother pointing out that in line dancing we often rotate and face all four walls, and they would at some point HAVE to be in the front.]
Our sweet little (she must weigh all of 90 pounds) instructor tried to tell him that she can't tell people HOW to dance, and he continued to complain. Loudly.
They get on my nerves too, but I mostly ignore them. I guess I can see both sides of the issue. They are entitled to do the dances any way they see fit, but I can also see where Mr. Patel and some of the others might find them a bit distracting. Some people aren't secure enough in their own dancing, and they depend upon watching some of the other dancers. If what they're watching isn't what they've been taught, they get confused. This is, however, billed as an "advanced beginner to intermediate" class, and many of them have been dancing together since last summer.
Personally, I've had my fill of conflict already this week.
Sunday, March 21, 2010
A New Low.....
I may have reached an all-new low. I'm not sure, because I don't have all my lows to line up and compare.
I have just spent way more time preparing my lunch for tomorrow than I did preparing AND eating dinner tonight.
That's not the new low.
I'm trying to hurry and finish my blog, clean the kitchen, and grade my last few catch-up assignments from my online class(es) [DAMN, can't a girl take a SATURDAY off?] so I can catch something on television at 8:00.
It's not a gymnastics meet.
It's not a movie.
It's not the NCAA basketball tournament.
It's not Lonesome Dove (although I do watch it Every. Single. Time. it is on television).
It's not a Billy Joel concert.
It's not news coverage of the imminent signing of the health care bill. [Should that be capitalized?]
It is....
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
A new episode of High Stakes Poker.
I told you it was an all new low.
Spring Break can't get here soon enough.
I have just spent way more time preparing my lunch for tomorrow than I did preparing AND eating dinner tonight.
That's not the new low.
I'm trying to hurry and finish my blog, clean the kitchen, and grade my last few catch-up assignments from my online class(es) [DAMN, can't a girl take a SATURDAY off?] so I can catch something on television at 8:00.
It's not a gymnastics meet.
It's not a movie.
It's not the NCAA basketball tournament.
It's not Lonesome Dove (although I do watch it Every. Single. Time. it is on television).
It's not a Billy Joel concert.
It's not news coverage of the imminent signing of the health care bill. [Should that be capitalized?]
It is....
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
A new episode of High Stakes Poker.
I told you it was an all new low.
Spring Break can't get here soon enough.
Saturday, March 20, 2010
Hypothetically Speaking......
Let's just say you decide, hypothetically speaking, of course, to drive two hours away to do a 53-mile bicycle ride on the first day of spring, an absolutely gorgeous day.
Let's just say, hypothetically speaking, that you not only survive the ride, you actually enjoy most of it. Minus the brutal headwinds in the last 5 miles or so.
Let's just say that after the post-ride meal, when you're feeling all warm and fuzzy and full not only of pasta but of accomplishment, you decide to take the scenic, country route home rather than the interstate.
Hypothetically speaking, of course.
It is highly possible in this hypothetical situation that you could hit every small town between the ride location and your home at the exact same time that every resident goes out to buy groceries, fetch prescriptions, go to the post office, visit the bank's 24-hour ATM, fill up the boat with gas, and take the dog to the vet.
You could also hit every red light in every one of those towns.
You could be in the right lane when it ends, or the left lane when it ends, no fewer than four times because you don't usually go through these little country towns.
You could be waiting at a red light (because you most assuredly WILL be waiting at a red light) in one of those infernal little towns with the courthouse in the middle of the square, necessitating three turns to go around it, when a policeman blocks your path to allow a funeral procession to come through.
It could be a record-breaking funeral procession. Hypothetically speaking, one of the cars in the procession could have a sticker across the back window that proclaims, "God is Slap Awesome."
You could wind up following said funeral procession for the approximately 42 miles it takes to get where it's going. You could also wind up hating a deceased person you never even knew. Hypothetically speaking.
You could allow the GPS bitch to guide you onto a "by-pass" that has three 4-way stops and a freakin' red light on it. OF COURSE IT HAS A RED LIGHT!!!! What exactly might it by-pass?
Your low fuel light beeper thingie could come on, and suddenly every gas station that takes the only gas card you have will have moved to the LEFT side of the road. You could ignore the warning four or five times, passing up the opportunity to stop at no fewer than sixteen gas stations and/or convenience stores that take a major credit card that you DO have.
You could, hypothetically speaking, still be wearing cycling tights and a bandanna, ruling out any possibility of visiting a convenience store's bathroom to relieve your bladder of the gazillion bottles of water you drank on the bike ride.
Five miles before reaching home, a furniture delivery truck could pull out in front of you, obviously driven by someone on the clock and shooting for overtime.
The two hour trip home could take you almost three hours.
Interstates were probably built for a reason. You would think someone would teach you that in college.
Hypothetically speaking.
Let's just say, hypothetically speaking, that you not only survive the ride, you actually enjoy most of it. Minus the brutal headwinds in the last 5 miles or so.
Let's just say that after the post-ride meal, when you're feeling all warm and fuzzy and full not only of pasta but of accomplishment, you decide to take the scenic, country route home rather than the interstate.
Hypothetically speaking, of course.
It is highly possible in this hypothetical situation that you could hit every small town between the ride location and your home at the exact same time that every resident goes out to buy groceries, fetch prescriptions, go to the post office, visit the bank's 24-hour ATM, fill up the boat with gas, and take the dog to the vet.
You could also hit every red light in every one of those towns.
You could be in the right lane when it ends, or the left lane when it ends, no fewer than four times because you don't usually go through these little country towns.
You could be waiting at a red light (because you most assuredly WILL be waiting at a red light) in one of those infernal little towns with the courthouse in the middle of the square, necessitating three turns to go around it, when a policeman blocks your path to allow a funeral procession to come through.
It could be a record-breaking funeral procession. Hypothetically speaking, one of the cars in the procession could have a sticker across the back window that proclaims, "God is Slap Awesome."
You could wind up following said funeral procession for the approximately 42 miles it takes to get where it's going. You could also wind up hating a deceased person you never even knew. Hypothetically speaking.
You could allow the GPS bitch to guide you onto a "by-pass" that has three 4-way stops and a freakin' red light on it. OF COURSE IT HAS A RED LIGHT!!!! What exactly might it by-pass?
Your low fuel light beeper thingie could come on, and suddenly every gas station that takes the only gas card you have will have moved to the LEFT side of the road. You could ignore the warning four or five times, passing up the opportunity to stop at no fewer than sixteen gas stations and/or convenience stores that take a major credit card that you DO have.
You could, hypothetically speaking, still be wearing cycling tights and a bandanna, ruling out any possibility of visiting a convenience store's bathroom to relieve your bladder of the gazillion bottles of water you drank on the bike ride.
Five miles before reaching home, a furniture delivery truck could pull out in front of you, obviously driven by someone on the clock and shooting for overtime.
The two hour trip home could take you almost three hours.
Interstates were probably built for a reason. You would think someone would teach you that in college.
Hypothetically speaking.
Friday, March 19, 2010
March Madness.....
I've never been that much into basketball. I NEVER watch professional basketball, and only occasionally do I watch a college basketball game on purpose. If the Bulldogs are on t.v. or the computer, I might turn it on, but I'm usually crocheting or something at the same time. I'm not riveted to the screen the way I am for football. Or baseball. Or gymnastics. Or the Olympics.
I loved watching high school basketball when two of my nephews played. I was as rabid as any fan, particularly since one of them played for my alma mater.
I didn't fill out a bracket sheet this year. The whole thing sort of sneaked up on me. Did you know that "snuck" is not even a word? Our local newspaper doesn't. I was going to fill out a bracket sheet and pick teams either according to whose colors I liked better, or which mascots should be able to beat the other. Within those constraints, if Stanford had been in the tournament (were they?), they would have been the first to go. Who has a freakin' COLOR as a mascot? They are not the Cardinals. They are the Cardinal. As in the color. Complete and total lack of imagination.
Hubby has fallen asleep (surprise, surprise) with the television on the NCAA tournament. He doesn't care for basketball either, but things could be worse. It could be some golf tournament from Dubai. At least this game features a team for whom I can dredge up some emotion. Georgia Tech is playing Oklahoma State. I can pull for Georgia Tech because they are from my home state. Then if they get beat, I can revel in the fact that they lost. Because they are, after all, Tech. And their uniforms are ugly. That isn't gold. It looks like something that got washed with the wrong colors.
I loved watching high school basketball when two of my nephews played. I was as rabid as any fan, particularly since one of them played for my alma mater.
I didn't fill out a bracket sheet this year. The whole thing sort of sneaked up on me. Did you know that "snuck" is not even a word? Our local newspaper doesn't. I was going to fill out a bracket sheet and pick teams either according to whose colors I liked better, or which mascots should be able to beat the other. Within those constraints, if Stanford had been in the tournament (were they?), they would have been the first to go. Who has a freakin' COLOR as a mascot? They are not the Cardinals. They are the Cardinal. As in the color. Complete and total lack of imagination.
Hubby has fallen asleep (surprise, surprise) with the television on the NCAA tournament. He doesn't care for basketball either, but things could be worse. It could be some golf tournament from Dubai. At least this game features a team for whom I can dredge up some emotion. Georgia Tech is playing Oklahoma State. I can pull for Georgia Tech because they are from my home state. Then if they get beat, I can revel in the fact that they lost. Because they are, after all, Tech. And their uniforms are ugly. That isn't gold. It looks like something that got washed with the wrong colors.
Thursday, March 18, 2010
This Week's Edition of "You Can't Fix Stupid....."
From this week's police blotter. Wonder what it would be like to live somewhere where there was really some ... news?
There was one additional story that I wanted to include, but it was so convoluted and confusing that even if I DID include the real names and locations, you would claw your eyes out after reading it. That's where I'm headed now.
- Two teenagers were arrested after an officer discovered the pair having sex in a vehicle. The incident occurred in the parking lot of ________ High School during the school day. The officer was patrolling the parking lot when he noticed the two students having sex in the front seat of a Ford Explorer. The officer discovered both subjects "exposing sexual organs." [Isn't that sort of a requirement?] The male was reportedly nude from the waist down and the female was completely unclothed. The officer noticed an open condom wrapper on the console of the vehicle.
- A woman reported that the ex-girlfriend of her boyfriend had posted derogatory comments about her on Facebook.
- A man's iPhone was stolen after he left it on the couch while he went to the store. Three other people in the house denied taking the phone and said they had not seen it.
- A man reported seeing a green Dodge pickup bearing the letters "SRS" and the words "US DOT" [come on, are those really words?] parked on the side of the road. The man believed the driver was behaving suspiciously.
- A man said he forgot he left between $7,000 and $10,000 under the seat of a friend's truck. The friend claims he mailed the money back to the man, but the man said he has yet to receive it.
- Nursing home staff discovered a 95-year-old woman dead in her room. No foul play is suspected.
- A woman called police after someone drew an obscene picture in the dust on her vehicle. The woman suspects one of her son's stepsons may be responsible for drawing a picture of a penis on the car.
- A man called police after a dispute with his live-in girlfriend. The man said his girlfriend was angry that he was late getting home and had forced him to sleep on the couch. The man said he was awakened by the woman yelling at him and insisting that she was taking his car when she moved out.
- A woman, Snow White, informed officers that her boxer puppy Wauka had been missing for three days. She said the dog was inside the residence of Prince Charming. When officers asked Charming if the dog was his, he insisted it was. He said a woman had given him the dog two months earlier. Police made contact with the woman, who subsequently denied giving Charming a dog. When police confronted Charming again, he admitted that he had lied, saying he felt sorry for the dog. Charming was cited for interference with a police officer and the dog was returned to White. Central dispatch then notified the officers that White had an outstanding warrant for failure to appear. She was arrested and transported to the _________ County Detention Center. Wauka's current location is unknown.
- According to a police report, a man and his wife have been separated for several months. On March 15, the man brought flowers to his estranged wife and asked if they could discuss some of their problems. During the two hour long conversation, the wife revealed that she had slept with another man. At that point, her husband became "uncontrollably upset." The man walked out the door and before leaving the residence, the husband smashed every window in his wife's vehicle.
- When an officer approached a car, he noticed an odor of marijuana in the vehicle and saw a marijuana stem and pieces of marijuana on a man's lap. He admitted rolling a blunt [is that even a technical term a newspaper should use?] and smoking marijuana. The man's infant daughter and the child's mother were also inside the vehicle. When asked if he normally rolled drugs in front of his child, the man said he did not. [Special occasion?] He was arrested for possession of less than one ounce. After being arrested, he advised the officer that once he got out of jail, he was "moving to Mexico where marijuana was legal."
- A woman called police after receiving a picture on her cell phone which she said she did not like. The photo, a picture of a penis with a lock passing through it, was captioned "New birth control for men who refuse to pay child support." The officer noticed that the message had been forwarded numerous times and appeared to be a chain message passed on by several people. The woman disagreed and said it was sent from someone using her granddaughter's phone. The officer said that he would file a report documenting her concern.
There was one additional story that I wanted to include, but it was so convoluted and confusing that even if I DID include the real names and locations, you would claw your eyes out after reading it. That's where I'm headed now.
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
No Crazy Dreams......
No crazy dreams to post about tonight.
Aren't you all relieved about THAT?
Just crazy students, crazy weather, crazy schedule, crazy online students' parents, crazy friends, I won't say crazy family because they read this blog and they might be offended even if I mean crazy family in a GOOD way, crazy dog, crazy cats, the word "crazy" isn't even looking like it's a real word anymore.
Aren't you all relieved about THAT?
Just crazy students, crazy weather, crazy schedule, crazy online students' parents, crazy friends, I won't say crazy family because they read this blog and they might be offended even if I mean crazy family in a GOOD way, crazy dog, crazy cats, the word "crazy" isn't even looking like it's a real word anymore.
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Crazy Dream #10......
I don't usually have crazy dreams on back-to-back nights. I wonder what tonight holds in store? It must be that weird, convoluted, shoot-em-up library book of Hubby's that is making me dream this weird stuff.
Last night I dreamed that, on a whim, I went online and ordered tickets to the ice skating events of the Winter Olympics because they were being held nearby. Because clearly the Deep South would be an excellent location for them to hold the Winter Olympics. And clearly it would be a simple matter of going online and printing out my own tickets, the way I do for baseball games. Because they would be so easy to come by and everything. Not like the tickets to the curling events, which would be horrendous. (Katydid, wonder where the ice skating reference came from? Hmmmmm........)
So here I had tickets to ice skating, and Hubby was coming by to pick me up. For some reason, we weren't living in the same place. I was living in a teensy weensy duplex (similar to the one I lived in before he and Istarted living in sin got married). He and another couple, with whom we have gone lots of places, went out to eat before the ice skating. And then suddenly I was back in my little duplex and he had gone home, and I was all like, "Wait! We didn't go to the damn Olympics!!!!!!! He tricked me!" And I can't believe I just said "I was all like." That's what these dreams do to me.
In my dream I was torn between getting in my car and driving to the Olympics by myself, because I really wanted to see those ice skaters, or plotting my revenge on him. I was trying to think of something that I could to do get back at him.
Beyond the obvious, which apparently I had already done, moving out and leaving him without a cook.
As it were.
Last night I dreamed that, on a whim, I went online and ordered tickets to the ice skating events of the Winter Olympics because they were being held nearby. Because clearly the Deep South would be an excellent location for them to hold the Winter Olympics. And clearly it would be a simple matter of going online and printing out my own tickets, the way I do for baseball games. Because they would be so easy to come by and everything. Not like the tickets to the curling events, which would be horrendous. (Katydid, wonder where the ice skating reference came from? Hmmmmm........)
So here I had tickets to ice skating, and Hubby was coming by to pick me up. For some reason, we weren't living in the same place. I was living in a teensy weensy duplex (similar to the one I lived in before he and I
In my dream I was torn between getting in my car and driving to the Olympics by myself, because I really wanted to see those ice skaters, or plotting my revenge on him. I was trying to think of something that I could to do get back at him.
Beyond the obvious, which apparently I had already done, moving out and leaving him without a cook.
As it were.
Monday, March 15, 2010
Crazy Dream #9......
Last night I dreamed that Hubby and I were walking somewhere, but he kept getting ahead of me. This could have been anywhere from the park to Disney World to the grocery store to a baseball game. He just can't walk any way other than fast. And I have short legs.
I kept trying to run to catch up with him, but it was like I was wearing concrete shoes. I was ponderous and slow and I couldn't make up any ground.
[Subconscious to Bragger: Can't you recognize a hint to step away from the cookies when you see it?]
Then we were trying to walk up this path where they were putting in a new road or bridge or something, and we had to detour around the construction. There was a stream beside the road, only sometimes we had to walk IN the stream. Hubby pointed and said, "Look, there's a ____ _____." I have no idea what it was, but I know it was two words.
It was a fish that looked like a cat. No, not a catfish. This was an underwater CAT cat, munching away on some kind of fish that it had caught. It looked kind of calico, or maybe just tabby. It's hard to tell WHAT color its fur was, because it was underwater. And yes, it had fur. And it was holding the fish it was enjoying for dinner in its little paws.
I'm going to blame it on the switch to Daylight Savings Time.
Yeah, that's it.
I kept trying to run to catch up with him, but it was like I was wearing concrete shoes. I was ponderous and slow and I couldn't make up any ground.
[Subconscious to Bragger: Can't you recognize a hint to step away from the cookies when you see it?]
Then we were trying to walk up this path where they were putting in a new road or bridge or something, and we had to detour around the construction. There was a stream beside the road, only sometimes we had to walk IN the stream. Hubby pointed and said, "Look, there's a ____ _____." I have no idea what it was, but I know it was two words.
It was a fish that looked like a cat. No, not a catfish. This was an underwater CAT cat, munching away on some kind of fish that it had caught. It looked kind of calico, or maybe just tabby. It's hard to tell WHAT color its fur was, because it was underwater. And yes, it had fur. And it was holding the fish it was enjoying for dinner in its little paws.
I'm going to blame it on the switch to Daylight Savings Time.
Yeah, that's it.
Sunday, March 14, 2010
Illegal Substitution......
I learned something new about college gymnastics today. I learn something new almost every time I go to a meet or watch a video. Which is way more often than I'm going to admit here in writing. Seriously, today I watched a recorded meet between two schools, both of whom I hate, and both of whom wear blue and orange. I wanted them ALL to fall off beam and step out of bounds on their floor routines. Not that I'm evil or vindictive or anything...
What I learned today is that you can be penalized in college gymnastics for an illegal substitution. Apparently there is an appropriate time at which to notify the judges that the girl with the ice pack taped to her leg probably won't be going in on bars. We didn't do that, so we were penalized a tenth of a point.
A tenth of a point would have been HUGE last weekend. It would have cost us the meet. Tonight it only drove all three of us crazy and made us add up the scores again and again and again, not understanding why the score wasn't right. It was only after I got home and looked up the recap of the meet that I found out why.
It was the last regular season meet of the season, and I'll admit I got a little teary-eyed when they introduced the seniors.
On to the post-season, and I wish I could feel as confident as I did last year. It can still happen, but it's shakier than I would like for it to be.
What I learned today is that you can be penalized in college gymnastics for an illegal substitution. Apparently there is an appropriate time at which to notify the judges that the girl with the ice pack taped to her leg probably won't be going in on bars. We didn't do that, so we were penalized a tenth of a point.
A tenth of a point would have been HUGE last weekend. It would have cost us the meet. Tonight it only drove all three of us crazy and made us add up the scores again and again and again, not understanding why the score wasn't right. It was only after I got home and looked up the recap of the meet that I found out why.
It was the last regular season meet of the season, and I'll admit I got a little teary-eyed when they introduced the seniors.
On to the post-season, and I wish I could feel as confident as I did last year. It can still happen, but it's shakier than I would like for it to be.
Saturday, March 13, 2010
Albert Einstein the Grocery Bagger.......
Dear Einstein the Grocery Bagger:
For several weeks, I have begged and pleaded with you (and your co-workers) not to pack my grocery bags so heavy that I can't lift them. I realize that the recyclable bags will hold a lot more than the plastic ones, but that doesn't mean that I have any more arm strength.
It is incomprehensible to me why you pack the bags so heavy and then hand me back two - or three - EMPTY bags.
Last week I asked you (perhaps it wasn't you, but it might have been) not to make the bags too heavy. "I have plenty of bags," I said, "so don't make them too heavy."
When I got home, there was at least one bag that almost gave me a hernia when I tried to lift it out of the back of the car.
Long before the expression "going postal" became a part of our vernacular, in our family we had the expression "to pitch a Carol." I have tried mightily NOT to have my mother's disposition, but if ever there were an occasion on which pitching a Carol was not only called for but almost required, it was this morning at the grocery store.
I brought recyclable bags. Lots of them. Enough for each of them to have a single item. Well, perhaps that's an exaggeration. But I had plenty of bags.
"Not too heavy, please," I implored as you got started. Both you and the cashier acknowledged the words and one of you said, "Okay."
Then you proceeded to pack just as many CANS into one bag as you could. The helpful cashier noticed that you STILL HAD SOME FREAKIN' ROOM IN ONE BAG, and she brought MORE CANS TO PUT IN THE TOP.
Meanwhile, two limp, empty, lonely, forlorn, EMPTY bags lay on the end of the bagging counter.
I have to tell you that Hubby is the most laid-back, easy-going soul (except when he's drinking, and he wasn't at 10:00 this morning) you would ever chance to meet. I looked at him in amazement while you continued to pack a grocery bag thatArnold Schwarz The Incredible Hulk (I could spell that) couldn't lift unassisted. He burst out laughing at your idiocy.
Hubby is not one to make a scene, either. When I reached around you for the empty bags, he said to you, "What part of 'not too heavy' don't you understand?" and I felt completed vindicated. If Hubby is willing to comment on it, it is definitely commentable. Not to be confused with commendable.
You looked a little perplexed when I took canned goods out of one of the full bags and commenced to THROW them into one of the empty bags. I'm sure you and the cashier shrugged your shoulders and wondered why some customers are so irritable.
You don't have to worry about me pitching a fit in your store again, though. I will go back to shopping at the store I was patronizing before your spiffy new store opened. You're not the only grocery store in town, you know. I think you give your chain a bad name. I don't want to embarrass anyone, but it starts with a "P" and ends with an "ublix."
Not too heavy indeed.
Moron.
Sincerely,
Bragger
For several weeks, I have begged and pleaded with you (and your co-workers) not to pack my grocery bags so heavy that I can't lift them. I realize that the recyclable bags will hold a lot more than the plastic ones, but that doesn't mean that I have any more arm strength.
It is incomprehensible to me why you pack the bags so heavy and then hand me back two - or three - EMPTY bags.
Last week I asked you (perhaps it wasn't you, but it might have been) not to make the bags too heavy. "I have plenty of bags," I said, "so don't make them too heavy."
When I got home, there was at least one bag that almost gave me a hernia when I tried to lift it out of the back of the car.
Long before the expression "going postal" became a part of our vernacular, in our family we had the expression "to pitch a Carol." I have tried mightily NOT to have my mother's disposition, but if ever there were an occasion on which pitching a Carol was not only called for but almost required, it was this morning at the grocery store.
I brought recyclable bags. Lots of them. Enough for each of them to have a single item. Well, perhaps that's an exaggeration. But I had plenty of bags.
"Not too heavy, please," I implored as you got started. Both you and the cashier acknowledged the words and one of you said, "Okay."
Then you proceeded to pack just as many CANS into one bag as you could. The helpful cashier noticed that you STILL HAD SOME FREAKIN' ROOM IN ONE BAG, and she brought MORE CANS TO PUT IN THE TOP.
Meanwhile, two limp, empty, lonely, forlorn, EMPTY bags lay on the end of the bagging counter.
I have to tell you that Hubby is the most laid-back, easy-going soul (except when he's drinking, and he wasn't at 10:00 this morning) you would ever chance to meet. I looked at him in amazement while you continued to pack a grocery bag that
Hubby is not one to make a scene, either. When I reached around you for the empty bags, he said to you, "What part of 'not too heavy' don't you understand?" and I felt completed vindicated. If Hubby is willing to comment on it, it is definitely commentable. Not to be confused with commendable.
You looked a little perplexed when I took canned goods out of one of the full bags and commenced to THROW them into one of the empty bags. I'm sure you and the cashier shrugged your shoulders and wondered why some customers are so irritable.
You don't have to worry about me pitching a fit in your store again, though. I will go back to shopping at the store I was patronizing before your spiffy new store opened. You're not the only grocery store in town, you know. I think you give your chain a bad name. I don't want to embarrass anyone, but it starts with a "P" and ends with an "ublix."
Not too heavy indeed.
Moron.
Sincerely,
Bragger
Friday, March 12, 2010
The Week That Would Not End.....
Is it just me, or has this been one of the longest weeks in the history of man? It feels like an eternity ago that Katydid and I rode the tandem, and it was only 5 days ago. Seriously?
For once I don't have anything planned for tomorrow. Good thing, since I feel like crap. I must be coming down with what Hubby has had for the past couple of weeks.
And he's so sympathetic. "Stay away from me," he said.
Thanks, Romeo, where do you think I GOT IT?
Last time I wrote a blog entry about possibly being sick, I made a miraculous recovery the next day. I'm hoping it works this time too.
For once I don't have anything planned for tomorrow. Good thing, since I feel like crap. I must be coming down with what Hubby has had for the past couple of weeks.
And he's so sympathetic. "Stay away from me," he said.
Thanks, Romeo, where do you think I GOT IT?
Last time I wrote a blog entry about possibly being sick, I made a miraculous recovery the next day. I'm hoping it works this time too.
Thursday, March 11, 2010
Thursday Small-Town Police Blotter Blogger Fodder.....
I almost didn't use the police blotter to create tonight's blog topic, because there wasn't nearly as much dysfunction in this week's paper as there had been the last two weeks.
I just couldn't let it go, though. Besides, it keeps me from having to come up with something on my own.
HEADLINE: Counterfeit $100 bill features picture of Abraham Lincoln.
Come on, people. How much research would you really have to do for this one?
Then why is this news?
Why does this remind me of Gladys Kravitz?
I just couldn't let it go, though. Besides, it keeps me from having to come up with something on my own.
* * * * * * * * * * *
HEADLINE: Counterfeit $100 bill features picture of Abraham Lincoln.
Come on, people. How much research would you really have to do for this one?
* * * * * * * * * * *
A woman accused a man of beating her, but witnesses said the woman was drunk and fabricated the story.Then why is this news?
* * * * * * * * * * *
A woman said her neighbor's boyfriend followed her throughout town after she helped an investigator looking into the man's extramarital relationship.Why does this remind me of Gladys Kravitz?
* * * * * * * * * * *
A man took gravel from a pile left by the CSX [railroad] tracks to fill a pot hole at the end of his driveway. He was asked to return the gravel to the pile and no charges were filed.
Can they verify that he returned EVERY. SINGLE. ROCK????
Can they verify that he returned EVERY. SINGLE. ROCK????
* * * * * * * * * * *
A Man accused his ex-father-in-law of threatening him, but informed the deputy he could not recall what threat was purportedly made.
Wouldn't that be an important detail if you're going to accuse someone of threatening you?
Wouldn't that be an important detail if you're going to accuse someone of threatening you?
* * * * * * * * * * *
A woman reported receiving numerous calls from someone cursing and "speaking nonsense."
I'm certain my mother didn't mean to dial THAT number.
I'm certain my mother didn't mean to dial THAT number.
* * * * * * * * * * *
A woman complained that her child's grandmother keeps coming to the property to leave money for the child.
Someone please give that sweet little grandmother MY address. I promise I will see that the child gets the money - minus a small service charge.
Someone please give that sweet little grandmother MY address. I promise I will see that the child gets the money - minus a small service charge.
* * * * * * * * * * *
Burglary reported on ____ _____. No items were reported missing, but several pieces of furniture had been moved.
Dang, that happens at my house EVERY DAY!
Dang, that happens at my house EVERY DAY!
* * * * * * * * * * *
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Not Quite There Yet......
I'm feeling a little .... incomplete. No, that's not the right word. Maybe .... unfinished. I'm not sure that's the right word either. I find myself in many places that are .... just not quite there yet.
The school year is three-quarters of the way through .... just not quite there.
The virtual school semester is over halfway through .... just not quite to the end.
Winter is almost over .... just not quite spring yet.
Gymnastics season is almost over .... just not quite to the post-season yet.
I am trying to read one of Hubby's library books .... I'm just not quite into it yet.
My afghan is about 79.9 percent finished .... just not quite done.
The weather is almost warm enough to start wearing capris and sandals (which opens up my wardrobe considerably) .... just not quite yet.
Hubby retired for a couple of weeks and then went back to work part-time .... not quite able to sleep in.
Major league baseball is in spring training .... but not quite to the games that really count.
Spring break is right around the corner .... but not quite soon enough to suit me.
Some of our students are on the verge of completing their coursework, which means they don't have to come anymore .... they just aren't quite finished.
The week is almost over .... but it isn't quite Friday (and jeans day) yet.
I have almost put in enough years teaching to retire .... but not quite.
I have almost decided which photography course to take .... but not quite ready to commit.
Bedtime is almost here .... oh yeah, that one I can fix.
The school year is three-quarters of the way through .... just not quite there.
The virtual school semester is over halfway through .... just not quite to the end.
Winter is almost over .... just not quite spring yet.
Gymnastics season is almost over .... just not quite to the post-season yet.
I am trying to read one of Hubby's library books .... I'm just not quite into it yet.
My afghan is about 79.9 percent finished .... just not quite done.
The weather is almost warm enough to start wearing capris and sandals (which opens up my wardrobe considerably) .... just not quite yet.
Hubby retired for a couple of weeks and then went back to work part-time .... not quite able to sleep in.
Major league baseball is in spring training .... but not quite to the games that really count.
Spring break is right around the corner .... but not quite soon enough to suit me.
Some of our students are on the verge of completing their coursework, which means they don't have to come anymore .... they just aren't quite finished.
The week is almost over .... but it isn't quite Friday (and jeans day) yet.
I have almost put in enough years teaching to retire .... but not quite.
I have almost decided which photography course to take .... but not quite ready to commit.
Bedtime is almost here .... oh yeah, that one I can fix.
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
And You're PROUD Of It?.......
I have noticed a disturbing trend among students in my years of teaching, most noticeably in the past few years.
They are proud of their dysfunction.
They want to blurt out their emotional/mental/physical ailments.
When I was in school, girls didn't talk about their periods with FEMALE teachers, let alone male ones. The worst thing that could happen IN THE WORLD was for someone to somehow find out that you were having your period. The only time we even alluded to such a thing was if we wanted to skip school and had used up all of our other excuses that week. We would go to the assistant principal, the nicest, sweetest, most mild-mannered African-American man in the whole world (his being African-American has nothing to do with this story, actually) and tell him we needed to go home "to change clothes." That was as brash as we got.
Girls these days?
One of my former students in a traditional high school would carry a tampon down the hall on the way to the restroom and wave it around like it was some magic wand or something.
One of our current students went in to our ONLY male teacher's room one day and asked if he would like to trade bodies with her, because she was "on her period, and having cramps really bad."
Some of them act like a diagnosis of bi-polar disorder is the equivalent of a Congressional Medal of Honor.
We had one today who announced that the reason she had to go home suddenly earlier today was that last night she found out she has a personality disorder (I could have told her that), and she needed to go home and discuss it with her mother, because apparently both her mother and her therapist are keeping it from her. I think this research happened on the internet while the little twit should have been doing her course work.
When did it become cool to be crazy?
Could one of these people piggyback on Barbara Mandrell and record "I Was Crazy When Crazy Wasn't Cool"?
They are proud of their dysfunction.
They want to blurt out their emotional/mental/physical ailments.
When I was in school, girls didn't talk about their periods with FEMALE teachers, let alone male ones. The worst thing that could happen IN THE WORLD was for someone to somehow find out that you were having your period. The only time we even alluded to such a thing was if we wanted to skip school and had used up all of our other excuses that week. We would go to the assistant principal, the nicest, sweetest, most mild-mannered African-American man in the whole world (his being African-American has nothing to do with this story, actually) and tell him we needed to go home "to change clothes." That was as brash as we got.
Girls these days?
One of my former students in a traditional high school would carry a tampon down the hall on the way to the restroom and wave it around like it was some magic wand or something.
One of our current students went in to our ONLY male teacher's room one day and asked if he would like to trade bodies with her, because she was "on her period, and having cramps really bad."
Some of them act like a diagnosis of bi-polar disorder is the equivalent of a Congressional Medal of Honor.
We had one today who announced that the reason she had to go home suddenly earlier today was that last night she found out she has a personality disorder (I could have told her that), and she needed to go home and discuss it with her mother, because apparently both her mother and her therapist are keeping it from her. I think this research happened on the internet while the little twit should have been doing her course work.
When did it become cool to be crazy?
Could one of these people piggyback on Barbara Mandrell and record "I Was Crazy When Crazy Wasn't Cool"?
Monday, March 8, 2010
Ugly Shoes.....
Please forgive me in advance if you have already purchased a pair of these shoes. I am sure you have your own (misguided) reasons for purchasing them. Perhaps you even plan to wear them. I pray that is not the case, but I realize that every person is entitled to her opinion.
Hubby does not notice things like women's shoes, even those on the feet of the woman to whom he is married. He thinks that people should have two pairs of shoes, three tops. One pair to wear when we walk in the park, one nicer pair to wear when we go out to eat or on a cruise, and a third pair waiting in the wings for the #1 pair and the #2 pair to rotate out.
He dragged me across the floor at a department store last night, however, to show me these shoes. That was pretty shocking on two counts. 1) I'm pretty heavy, and he has a bad back. 2) I had just shown the same ugly shoes to HIM a mere three weeks ago. It was the night of the snowstorm when I insisted we drive to a gymnastics meet 30 minutes away. And since we were out in the weather already, I thought we should stop and shop.
I apologize for the poor quality of the pictures. Unlike people who are really serious about their photography, I haven't yet developed the habit of carrying a camera around with me. So I had to use Hubby's iPhone, because for the first time in the history of mankind, I left mine at home. It's usually attached to my hand. I was also trying to be somewhat inconspicuous about taking the pictures, because I was afraid the store employees might think I was trying to steal their designs and copy them. They wish.
If you can't tell, the upper part of the shoe is sort of like a slouch boot. The bottom part is a thong sandal.
Seriously?
People are really going to wear these?
I can't picture an appropriate setting for these shoes.
An apres-ski gathering where you want to show off your new pedicure?
A hiking expedition on a sandy beach?
I'm not terribly fashion conscious, so help me here. What in the world would you wear WITH these shoes?
Notice that they are readily available in both black and brown. Gee, I'm terribly undecided. Notice also that they are currently on sale for $39.99, and if you hurry, you can use my 30% off coupon at this particular store through Wednesday.
I fully expect these shoes to show up at school any day.
And I'm not going to be able to stop myself.
Sunday, March 7, 2010
New Profile Picture......
I need a new profile picture for my blog. I have noticed that several of my friends change/update their pictures every now and then, and I'm still using the same one from when I started a year and a half ago.
I would like some reader input on which photo to use. Feel free to leave me a comment indicating your preference. Keep in mind that there are very few from which to choose. I am usually the one BEHIND the camera. From outward appearances, it would appear that Hubby goes on exotic vacations alone. As a matter of fact, it pains me to have so many images of myself on this blog post.
Some of them are several years old.
Okay, that's enough. Have a good week!
I would like some reader input on which photo to use. Feel free to leave me a comment indicating your preference. Keep in mind that there are very few from which to choose. I am usually the one BEHIND the camera. From outward appearances, it would appear that Hubby goes on exotic vacations alone. As a matter of fact, it pains me to have so many images of myself on this blog post.
Some of them are several years old.
Okay, that's enough. Have a good week!
Saturday, March 6, 2010
.025.....
You know how little .025 is? I mean, if we were talking money, we would be talking about two and a half cents.
That was our margin of victory tonight in the gymnastics meet with UCLA.
.025
I just keep looking at that number.
We set 17 season-high scores as individuals. Seventeen out of 24 routines were season-best. There were also a host of career highs, but I lost count of those.
We had a perfect 10 on beam.
So did they.
We had a near-perfect 9.975 on vault.
And this was all without our freshman all-arounder supergirl, who is out with an ankle injury.
It was even sweeter because the know-it-all on Katydid's right said we had to have a 9.95 on the final floor routine to tie the meet. When it came in at 9.925, I thought we had lost by .025. The know-it-all to the left of Nurse Jane (notice how strategically I placed myself?) at first said we had won, then she conceded that the other know-it-all was correct and we had lost. They both left before the final scores were announced.
I finally got up the courage to add up the scores for the last round. I didn't want to face the truth. I kept coming up with a win for us, and I kept adding it again. I was sure I had made a mistake.
Even if we had lost, we would probably have improved our standing in the rankings, because we would have improved our RQS. (Don't ask ... trust me, it's complicated.) It's the score that counts, not the win-lose record. But it would also have been the first loss at home since 2005. Besides, I just don't like losing.
Second-highest score in the nation this season. Almost broke the magical 198 mark.
That's what I'm talking about.
We now return you to the real world, where it's NOT all about gymnastics. I just don't live there.
Friday, March 5, 2010
Full Moon was LAST Week....
I don't know if it's the spring-like weather or what, but our kids have been a little harder to manage than usual this week. First, when we took them on a field trip, some of them acted like it was their first time off the farm. Second, they have been sillier than usual, slapping and hitting at each other like they're in third grade.
Might I remind you that I teach high school? And mostly juniors and seniors? Well, at least the age juniors and seniors should be.
Third, they don't yet feel the pressure of time passing them by.
We had a little assembly today (we call it Morning Motivation), and we gave them the speech about needing to work seriously, seniors needing to graduate, 50 school days left, yada yada yada. A couple of them looked panic-stricken, but mostly they just looked like we might be talking to the people sitting next to them.
On a positive note, I had Hubby take me and my bicycle to school this morning, so riding it was the only way I could get home. How's THAT for incentive? It was only an 8.5 mile ride home, but I figure if I do that a couple of times a week, at least I can get SOME miles in. I'm not really helping the environment, since Hubby has to drive me over there, but what the hey.....
At least it's the weekend. And 50 school days left sounds pretty darn good about now.
Ten more Mondays.
Forty more days to decide what to wear. (Ten Fridays means ten blue jeans days.)
If I subtract the two personal days I already KNOW I'm going to take.....
Summer break will be here before we know it. I feel better already.
Might I remind you that I teach high school? And mostly juniors and seniors? Well, at least the age juniors and seniors should be.
Third, they don't yet feel the pressure of time passing them by.
We had a little assembly today (we call it Morning Motivation), and we gave them the speech about needing to work seriously, seniors needing to graduate, 50 school days left, yada yada yada. A couple of them looked panic-stricken, but mostly they just looked like we might be talking to the people sitting next to them.
On a positive note, I had Hubby take me and my bicycle to school this morning, so riding it was the only way I could get home. How's THAT for incentive? It was only an 8.5 mile ride home, but I figure if I do that a couple of times a week, at least I can get SOME miles in. I'm not really helping the environment, since Hubby has to drive me over there, but what the hey.....
At least it's the weekend. And 50 school days left sounds pretty darn good about now.
Ten more Mondays.
Forty more days to decide what to wear. (Ten Fridays means ten blue jeans days.)
If I subtract the two personal days I already KNOW I'm going to take.....
Summer break will be here before we know it. I feel better already.
Thursday, March 4, 2010
More Police Blotter Excitement....
It's Thursday, the day our newest (and crappiest) local newspaper comes in the mail. Seriously, it comes IN THE MAIL. This may turn out to be a regular feature on my blog, just like Sunday Randomness.
A couple of these stories are kind of long. Bear with me.
"Sally Jo Smith" was arrested after she drove to a bar with her boyfriend to pick up her car. Her boyfriend, who had reportedly been drinking for three days straight, fell when he exited the vehicle, prompting a call to ________ County Emergency Services. The deputy who was dispatched to the scene discovered that "Smith" had been driving in violation of her limited DUI permit and placed her under arrest. Smith's daughter-in-law later called the boyfriend seeking help in making Smith's bail. The boyfriend's wife answered the phone and was upset that the daughter-in-law had called requesting help. [Ya THINK?] The wife said Smith should stay away from her husband and that he was not going to get her out of jail. The daughter-in-law later received a call from the wife of Smith's boyfriend which she interpreted as a threat against her family. After making bail, Smith and her daughter-in-law met with the boyfriend's wife at a _____ restaurant. Smith said the wife and wife's sister threatened her, but did not attack her. After the confrontation, Smith said she received numerous phone calls from her boyfriend's wife. In one of the calls, the wife threatened to come to Smith's home and "stomp a mudhole in her [expletive]."
The case remains under investigation.
Why? It can only get uglier.....
Against her better judgment, a _______ woman left an acquaintance alone in her home, only to later discover that the female had stolen jewelry and other personal belongings. The victim said she met the woman known as "Irene Goodnight" [names have been changed to protect the stupid] through some mutual friends. Goodnight called early one morning to ask if the victim would pick her up from a location on ________ Road. Goodnight then asked if she could stay at the victim's residence until a friend could come get her. The victim said she was reluctant to leave Goodnight in the house alone but had to leave for work and was assured by a friend that Goodnight was "harmless." When the victim returned home from work, she discovered cabinets and drawers throughout the house had been opened and left in disarray. The victim then noticed that $4,100 worth of jewelry was missing. According to the victim, Goodnight left her purse in one of the bedrooms. [If you're a thief, aren't you supposed to TAKE purses? I'm just sayin'....] The victim said she found her watch, a pair of earrings, and her son's prescription medication inside the purse. The victim called Goodnight and demanded that she return to the residence with the rest of her missing jewelry. Goodnight returned a short while later but maintained her innocence. She reportedly told the victim, "If I did take the jewelry, I don't remember." When the victim informed Goodnight that she intended to call 911, Goodnight begged the victim to give her two hours to go to [a nearby town] and retrieve the jewelry. After Jones left, the victim found a bond agreement in the purse with what may be Goodnight's real name.
A couple of these stories are kind of long. Bear with me.
"Sally Jo Smith" was arrested after she drove to a bar with her boyfriend to pick up her car. Her boyfriend, who had reportedly been drinking for three days straight, fell when he exited the vehicle, prompting a call to ________ County Emergency Services. The deputy who was dispatched to the scene discovered that "Smith" had been driving in violation of her limited DUI permit and placed her under arrest. Smith's daughter-in-law later called the boyfriend seeking help in making Smith's bail. The boyfriend's wife answered the phone and was upset that the daughter-in-law had called requesting help. [Ya THINK?] The wife said Smith should stay away from her husband and that he was not going to get her out of jail. The daughter-in-law later received a call from the wife of Smith's boyfriend which she interpreted as a threat against her family. After making bail, Smith and her daughter-in-law met with the boyfriend's wife at a _____ restaurant. Smith said the wife and wife's sister threatened her, but did not attack her. After the confrontation, Smith said she received numerous phone calls from her boyfriend's wife. In one of the calls, the wife threatened to come to Smith's home and "stomp a mudhole in her [expletive]."
The case remains under investigation.
Why? It can only get uglier.....
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
Against her better judgment, a _______ woman left an acquaintance alone in her home, only to later discover that the female had stolen jewelry and other personal belongings. The victim said she met the woman known as "Irene Goodnight" [names have been changed to protect the stupid] through some mutual friends. Goodnight called early one morning to ask if the victim would pick her up from a location on ________ Road. Goodnight then asked if she could stay at the victim's residence until a friend could come get her. The victim said she was reluctant to leave Goodnight in the house alone but had to leave for work and was assured by a friend that Goodnight was "harmless." When the victim returned home from work, she discovered cabinets and drawers throughout the house had been opened and left in disarray. The victim then noticed that $4,100 worth of jewelry was missing. According to the victim, Goodnight left her purse in one of the bedrooms. [If you're a thief, aren't you supposed to TAKE purses? I'm just sayin'....] The victim said she found her watch, a pair of earrings, and her son's prescription medication inside the purse. The victim called Goodnight and demanded that she return to the residence with the rest of her missing jewelry. Goodnight returned a short while later but maintained her innocence. She reportedly told the victim, "If I did take the jewelry, I don't remember." When the victim informed Goodnight that she intended to call 911, Goodnight begged the victim to give her two hours to go to [a nearby town] and retrieve the jewelry. After Jones left, the victim found a bond agreement in the purse with what may be Goodnight's real name.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
Verbal domestic dispute on _____ _____ Street. A man and woman argued over where to eat. The man said he was angry because he did not want to make the decision by himself.
[This could very well be Hubby and me. Upon reading this blotter item, we agreed that from now on, we will take turns choosing a restaurant.]
[This could very well be Hubby and me. Upon reading this blotter item, we agreed that from now on, we will take turns choosing a restaurant.]
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
A ______ man was recently arrested for DUI after he drove his truck off the road, overcorrected and then plummeted down an embankment, causing the vehicle to flip. A deputy found Otis Spunkmeyer walking away from the scene of the accident. When asked what happened, Spunkmeyer said he "just lost control of the vehicle." After noticing a strong odor of alcoholic beverage, the deputy asked Spunkmeyer how much alcohol he had consumed. Spunkmeyer pointed to his overturned truck and replied, "Too much to drive that." Spunkmeyer was arrested for DUI. On the way to the jail, he urinated and defecated on himself. When the deputy asked why he did that, Spunkmeyer replied, "Sometimes you just got to go."
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
Alfred Hitchcock was stopped after a deputy clocked Hitchcock's Mercedes traveling 51 mph in a 35 mph zone. Upon speaking with Hitchcock, the deputy noticed a strong odor of alcoholic beverage. Hitchcock admitted having "a few beers." When asked to undergo field sobriety testing, Hitchcock declined, saying, "It's too cold. I don't think so." He was arrested and charged with DUI.
But that's not what they freakin' ASKED him, okay?
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
William Shakespeare was traveling on Hwy. ____ when he ran off the road into a ditch. The responding deputy noticed an odor of alcoholic beverage and asked Willie Boy how much alcohol he had consumed. Shakespeare admitted having a few sips of one beer and said that he was just going to Wally World to buy some cigarettes. Upon further questioning, Shakespeare also admitted taking two Xanax and one Lortab. He was arrested for DUI.But that's not what they freakin' ASKED him, okay?
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
Tune in next Thursday for another exciting edition of "Life in a Small Town in Georgia, Where the Worse the Economy Gets, the Stupider the People Act."Wednesday, March 3, 2010
Entitlement......
I try not to write negative stories about my students very often, because I'm afraid it will begin to sound like I hate my job and/or my students, and that's not the case at all.
I did feel like I hated a large percentage of them today when we took them on a field trip to visit two local colleges, but that's just because it's hard to teach a group of teenagers manners all in one day.
The sense of entitlement exhibited by some of them, however, is a constant source of amazement for me.
We went to one of those belly-up-to-the-trough, all-you-can-stuff-in-your-face establishments between our two college visits today. We prepared our students for the fact that they would need to bring money for lunch, and that it would be pricey compared to what they are used to spending for school lunch. They didn't HAVE to go on the field trip; a handful of students either weren't invited on the trip or chose to stay at school and get their work done.
One girl stood apart from the line when we went in, and I was bringing up the rear with the bus driver, because I had to pay for his lunch. I asked the girl why she wasn't eating, and she said, "No money." It was sort of matter-of-fact, not pitiful or begging or anything. I motioned for her to get in line, and I discreetly added her meal in with mine and the bus driver's. I will get reimbursed for both of those, and that's not what bothers me. She did appear grateful, telling me I was the most wonderful teacher in the world. I'm not sure paying for a buffet lunch qualifies me for that, but I didn't argue with her.
Halfway through lunch, however, her mother showed up. And her sister. And her nephew. And they all proceeded to go through the buffet line and eat lunch there too. Never did the mom offer to pay me back for buying the student's lunch.
Is it just me, or is something wrong with that?
I don't mean to sound petty, and goodness knows the seven bucks or so isn't going to break me or make my family suffer in any way. But come on, people..... Where do some of them get this sense of entitlement?
I did feel like I hated a large percentage of them today when we took them on a field trip to visit two local colleges, but that's just because it's hard to teach a group of teenagers manners all in one day.
The sense of entitlement exhibited by some of them, however, is a constant source of amazement for me.
We went to one of those belly-up-to-the-trough, all-you-can-stuff-in-your-face establishments between our two college visits today. We prepared our students for the fact that they would need to bring money for lunch, and that it would be pricey compared to what they are used to spending for school lunch. They didn't HAVE to go on the field trip; a handful of students either weren't invited on the trip or chose to stay at school and get their work done.
One girl stood apart from the line when we went in, and I was bringing up the rear with the bus driver, because I had to pay for his lunch. I asked the girl why she wasn't eating, and she said, "No money." It was sort of matter-of-fact, not pitiful or begging or anything. I motioned for her to get in line, and I discreetly added her meal in with mine and the bus driver's. I will get reimbursed for both of those, and that's not what bothers me. She did appear grateful, telling me I was the most wonderful teacher in the world. I'm not sure paying for a buffet lunch qualifies me for that, but I didn't argue with her.
Halfway through lunch, however, her mother showed up. And her sister. And her nephew. And they all proceeded to go through the buffet line and eat lunch there too. Never did the mom offer to pay me back for buying the student's lunch.
Is it just me, or is something wrong with that?
I don't mean to sound petty, and goodness knows the seven bucks or so isn't going to break me or make my family suffer in any way. But come on, people..... Where do some of them get this sense of entitlement?
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
I'm Not ALWAYS A Smart Ass.........
I offer this picture as evidence that while I may be sorely tempted, I do not ALWAYS give in to the urge to be a smart-ass.
This sign appears above the ice maker in our school's cafeteria.
And this is the sign I would like to hang next to it.
But so far I have resisted, because I don't want tohurt anyone's feelings be thought of as a smart-ass have poison put in my lunch.
This sign appears above the ice maker in our school's cafeteria.
And this is the sign I would like to hang next to it.
But so far I have resisted, because I don't want to
Monday, March 1, 2010
Monday Randomness....
I just love being able to change the rules when I want to. Because I blogged about my epileptic cat yesterday, I didn't do my usual Sunday randomness. That means I can do Monday randomness, because it is, after all, my blog. All three of you will just have to play along.
- My friend Maggie is having a giveaway over on her blog, and I wannawin wannawin wannawin wannawin. Yellow, please, Maggie Mae!
- Having sisters means that in the event you all spend the night together, one of them is likely to have a spare toothbrush in her vehicle. And it was even still in the package! Thank you, Katydid!
- I have discovered that if I do some of the work associated with my second job during my downtime at my main job, I don't have nearly so much to do at home at night.
- I have ethics, they just don't always apply.
- I got that saying from a girl I used to work with, and I wound up Hating. Her. Guts.
- I am too old to stay up until midnight, even on a Friday night. I felt hungover all day Saturday, and I didn't have a single thing to drink. Maybe THAT was the problem.
- People who smack their food get on my very last nerve. They need to be introduced to my mother's wicked backhand. And she's NOT a tennis player.
- Weather people are predicting snow in Georgia again, this time about two counties north of us. I find myself saying, "They don't know EXACTLY where it's going to be," as if that will be enough to change the direction of the storm and bring enough snow to close schools. And we all know it doesn't take much here in Georgia.
- I think one of the smartest things I've ever done is assign a distinctive ringtone for all of my online students and their parents. I do NOT take their phone calls on the weekend.
- I don't know what it says about me that I set a distinctive ringtone for Hubby when he calls. And it's a dog barking.
- I am going to go postal in the grocery store the very next time a bagger stuffs one of my reusable grocery bags so freakin' full that there is no way in hell I can lift it, and then hands me back three ... count 'em, three ... empty bags.
- The scrapbooking table that I set up in the living room last weekend for Sisters' Saturday and never used is still sitting in the living room.
- I made my own fried pickles for dinner tonight. If they're good enough for an appetizer, they're good enough for a side dish. And they were awesome.
- I secretly wish I had kept my maiden name. But after I changed it the first two times I was married, there was no way I could tell Hubby that I wasn't taking his.
- I used to collect unicorns, and then I started collecting elephants. I'm sure Freud would have a field day with that.
- I've tried to tell Hubby that I'm losing part of my hearing and that he needs to be in the same room with me when he tells me something, preferably with me looking at him. If that doesn't work, I'm going to break down and tell him that the real problem is that he mumbles.
- If Hubby makes an error in his checkbook, I quietly correct it. If I make an error in his checkbook, he will come upstairs with checkbook, pen, AND calculator in hand, and point it out to me.
- Line dancing isn't just for country music anymore.
- One of our gymnasts' beam music is "I Run to You" by Lady Antebellum. Five meets out of seven, she has fallen off the beam, somewhere around the lyrics "...to a new disaster...." I'm thinking maybe a change of music is in order? Maybe something about flying? Or standing tall? Or just standing?
- I need a new profile picture on my blog. Perhaps I will have my (four) readers vote for the one I should use.
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