I may do a more in-depth version later, but here are some of the highlights.
Thursday was mostly settling in to the hostel. We smoked all the other cars, so my six kids played the tamest version of truth or dare I've ever heard: "Who do you like?" "Ummm, I can't say!" Tee hee hee! "Okay, what do you like about Ming?" "Umm, his hair!" "Besides his hair!" Tee hee hee!
Anyway, besides dinner, Frisbee, volleyball, and some random business, Thursday was uneventful.
Friday we got up early (too early -- our trip organizer had goaded the kids into getting up at 4 to take showers, betting them that they couldn't), ate breakfast, and hit the road for the Valley floor. I was surprised at just how long it took to get from the entrance gates to the main visitor area. I mean, I know Yosemite is big, but driving from the entrance to the Miwok village took as long as it does to get from Sacramento to Vacaville. For real. Anyway, we had several educational things they had to go do, and one easy hike up to lower Yosemite falls. We then headed to Merced Grove for a longer hike, and this one, surprisingly, was through about two feet of snow! For two miles! It was a pretty hard hike, actually. If you could avoid slipping and mostly walk on compacted snow, you were okay, but we all ended up periodically sinking one leg into a foot or two of snow, and I really strained my achilles tendons trying to yank my feet out, thinking that if I just pulled really hard and threw my weight forward, it would release my shoe, but it didn't always, and that technique resulted in probably the worst soreness and cramping. It was fun, though, and we had a snowball fight at the bottom, then hiked back UPhill to the SUVs.
Then we headed back to the hostel for dinner, singing, s'mores, homework time... my friend Chris' wife had driven up with their baby, so I hung out in the living room with them and the other teachers and we had some very nice conversation. Most of the kids retreated indoors and Chris, Clay and I hung out outdoors and ate more s'mores, and Clay got goofy on sugar. It was hilarious. I've actually known him for 6 years, but haven't seen him much in the last 4, until I moved to Horticulturalist Hight. Anyway, it was nice to spend some time with him. He's a riot. At one point, he was singing to his S'more, and he kept giggling, stopping, apologizing, lather, rinse, repeat. He was singing "I will remember you," and it was like "I will.. HEE HEEE!! I'm sorry, I shouldn't sing. Remember you!! Hee haa haa. Okay, okay, I'm sorry. I will..."
Saturday morning was hiking day for real. We went to the valley floor, caught a shuttle to the Vernal Falls/Nevada Falls trailhead. The shuttle driver actually cracked us all up. On all these hikes, we had decided that one teacher, usually Chris, was in front and no one could pass him, and one teacher, usually me, was in back and no one could fall behind them. That way we kept track of all 25 kids. Anyway, one of the teachers had her 6-year-old with her, and Chris' wife had their baby in a frame backpack on her back. They only intended to go the first mile, to a bridge with a cool view, then turn back. Well, since I was determined not to let anyone fall behind, I stayed with them, and you can imagine that our pace was pretty slow. When we got to the bridge, the rest of the group was long, long gone. I could have turned back with the kids, but decided to go on and try to catch up with the group, so I proceeded to basically run up a mile of steep, wet stone steps. And I DID catch up with them, although my legs were tired and my lungs were burning. They were at the top of Vernal Falls, which was where they stopped to rest and eat lunch. I ate my lunch, and they were pretty much ready to go. At that point, I could have chosen to turn around and go back (which one teacher, one parent, and about half the kids did), or go on to Nevada Falls. I knew I was too tired to make it to the top of Nevada falls (it was almost 2 more miles of stairs uphill), but Chris said that there was about 30 minutes worth of trail that was fairly level, then an incredible view, and that I should go that far and then turn back. So I agreed. But when we got to that view (which was at the bottom of Nevada Falls), we discovered that the easy trail down was closed for winter, so we'd have to go all the way back down 3 miles of wet steep stairs, and instead we decided to go uphill another 30 minutes or so and join another easier trail down and to skip the top of the falls altogether. So, we did. It was an arduous walk uphill (especially since at that point there wasn't much tree cover and it was at least 80 degrees out (and we had packs on), but the downhill wasn't so bad, minus some scrambling on loose rocks and down steep switchbacks. Anyway, I was really proud of myself for not turning back and going all the way on the hardest hike, even though I still came in WAY last -- hey, it was my job to! Clay's knees were hurting, so I hung back with him.
As you can imagine, we were all too tired for much in the way of fun on Saturday evening, but I still stayed up late playing Texas Hold 'Em (Clay taught me), and chatting, and when I went to bed, I read for a little while, which I usually do to wind down. Well, I think I was the last person awake, and I heard a thumping sound on metal. We had heard there was a brown bear named "Cinnamon" that checked out the dumpster every night, and everyone sort of wanted to see it, so I jumped out of bed and tiptoed to the lobby, and sure enough! There he was, right on top of the dumpster trying to get it open. John woke up and decided to get one of the parents, who REALLY wanted to see the bear, and I lost sight of him for a minute. But then I saw him climbing down the ladder on the side! He then stayed in my view for about a minute, just strolling down the road towards the hostel, then turning at the path to the volleyball courts. Right then, the parent came out and asked where Cinnamon was. I pointed, he caught a glimpse, and went running outside with his camera chasing the bear!!! We had been informed that this was not a friendly bear, so I was going over my first aid/CPR knowledge in my head, but the bear slipped into the forest right ahead of the parent, who then turned back. Whew. Anyway, today was cleanup and get home, and we did!
I've got to get to bed, so there'll be additional highlights later.
--CM
Sunday, April 30, 2006
Thursday, April 27, 2006
Ass
Well, I should have known that the school district would soon catch on to folks looking at blogs and blogging from school. I don't blog from school that often, but I do browse others' pages once in a while. But now they're blocked, and I can't do any of it anymore. Blogger and LiveJournal are both on the "Access Denied!" list.
"But wait," you say, "you can't blog anymore, but this post was uploaded during school hours. How did you do that?" Well, they haven't blocked Flickr. I suspect that, at least for a while anyway, you will be treated to some blog posts by me with silly pictures like that at right, which I found by searching for the tag "Ass."
"But wait," you say, "you can't blog anymore, but this post was uploaded during school hours. How did you do that?" Well, they haven't blocked Flickr. I suspect that, at least for a while anyway, you will be treated to some blog posts by me with silly pictures like that at right, which I found by searching for the tag "Ass."
Wednesday, April 26, 2006
Taco Bell, Yosemite, The Devil's Vehicle, Day of Silence
Okay, I saw another episode of that "Honey, We're Killing the Kids" show, and it was not quite as sucky as the first one. I watched the whole thing, and by the end, they had incorporated rules like that the family all had to bicycle together, and the recipes were much more reasonable, like shish kebabs and veggie burgers. But the first meal was still horrible -- clams. I suspect that first recipe is more about getting gagging shots of the kids and confused looks from the family cook. Which, by the way, always seems to be the mom. Speaking of BAD nutritional info, if I were one of those people who were able to give "picks and pans" or "carrot and stick" (which is Vegetarian Times' way of giving props and disses), I would give Taco Bell a BIG TIME SUCK for their new campaign introducing "the fourth meal." Ahem. They seem to think you should eat a big-ass nacho supreme or something at about 3a.m. Yeah. They're honestly promoting it as a nutritional thing -- like they say "have you heard of the pyramid? Well, how about the square?" and they show a big square with four flavors on it. Anyway, way to go Taco Bell for promoting more overeating again.
Tomorrow I leave for Yosemite. Wish me luck. I hope I'm not as old and creaky as I sometimes suspect and that I can outlast the kids on the hikes and stuff. I hope there are no major problems. I hope the weather stays nice. I hope I can succesfully drive the Devil's Auto. Yeah, they rented SUVs for us, and I picked mine up today. Dude, it's a nice ride. You're way up high off the road, it's very comfortable, you can see pretty well (minus a blind spot that swallowed a Ford F-150), it has a CD player and AC. On the other hand, since I have to run errands on the way home on Wednesday, I drove an SUV to go to the Natural Foods Co-Op and then to pick up my box of locally grown organic veggies. Everywhere I went I parked a little further away than usual and hoped no one saw me. I was like "Please don't judge! I know I'm a single woman in a truck that seats 7, but it's for a good reason! My usual car gets great gas mileage!"
Today was the Day of Silence, which is of course the day that some students stay silent all day in order to show support for their LGBT brethren. It was a big deal this year because there was a lot of media coverage and controversy. The school board voted to support the day, but some members of the community were against it. Anyway, what I wanted to tell you was that at lunch, I heard a couple kids start to call each other fags, and I immediately was like "Hey, I don't tolerate that language any day, but I think it's especially disrespectful today." And one of their girlfriends, who was participating, then mouthed very clearly to them "So shut the fuck up." It made me laugh.
Tomorrow I leave for Yosemite. Wish me luck. I hope I'm not as old and creaky as I sometimes suspect and that I can outlast the kids on the hikes and stuff. I hope there are no major problems. I hope the weather stays nice. I hope I can succesfully drive the Devil's Auto. Yeah, they rented SUVs for us, and I picked mine up today. Dude, it's a nice ride. You're way up high off the road, it's very comfortable, you can see pretty well (minus a blind spot that swallowed a Ford F-150), it has a CD player and AC. On the other hand, since I have to run errands on the way home on Wednesday, I drove an SUV to go to the Natural Foods Co-Op and then to pick up my box of locally grown organic veggies. Everywhere I went I parked a little further away than usual and hoped no one saw me. I was like "Please don't judge! I know I'm a single woman in a truck that seats 7, but it's for a good reason! My usual car gets great gas mileage!"
Today was the Day of Silence, which is of course the day that some students stay silent all day in order to show support for their LGBT brethren. It was a big deal this year because there was a lot of media coverage and controversy. The school board voted to support the day, but some members of the community were against it. Anyway, what I wanted to tell you was that at lunch, I heard a couple kids start to call each other fags, and I immediately was like "Hey, I don't tolerate that language any day, but I think it's especially disrespectful today." And one of their girlfriends, who was participating, then mouthed very clearly to them "So shut the fuck up." It made me laugh.
Sunday, April 23, 2006
Blogging willy nilly
Umm...
Last week a saw a program on TV called "Honey, We're Killing the Kids." It was really horrible. I was kind of rooting for it, because the basic premise is trying to help people who have unhealthy eating habits. But it was rotten. First, they computer-simulate the kids aging as they would if they continue eating as they do now. So they apparently assume the kids are going to grow mullets and choose THE worst frames at Frame and Lens. Or Walmart -- do they do glasses? Anyway, I was laughing at that part when I think I was supposed to be horrified. But then they made all these sweeping changes to the family's life without, apparently, any support. Like they just announced that the parents had to quit smoking, the kids threw their cigarettes out, and TADA! I thought it was really unrealistic. And then they gave the mom a bunch of recipes and shopping lists for the next week, and the first recipe is... wait for it... seafood paella. Kids who are used to burgers and fries, pizza, tacos, have to watch as their mom cleans SQUID. Plus, I'm a pretty good cook, and paella is fucking challenging to make. And all that goddamn fish cannot have been cheap. And KIDS DON'T LIKE SQUID. I mean, maybe some kids do, but I think they're few and far between, and certainly not these two. What a ridiculous first "low-fat" meal! I can think of better recipes than that, and damn near guarantee you that the kids would like them, too. How about a pasta with marinara sauce? How about baked mac and cheese with reduced fat cheese? How about baked, roasted, or grilled chicken? Turkey burgers with no mayo on whole wheat buns? Chili with lean meat or meat substitute? Anyway, I was very disappointed. I don't think the show is that likely to help the featured family in the long run or ANYONE in America ever. I guess I care because I heard my cousin say that she and her son (who I have had a very soft spot in my heart for since the day he was born) have been watching it, and she's overweight but working on it, but he, at 13, is pretty overweight, and I thought maybe this was a positive step. I guess not.
My next door neighbor is on his third real estate agent. I have two tips for him. Bring the price down. Have an open house. He's asking at least $20k more than what the places in this neighborhood are selling for, and there's only been one open house in months. Crazy.
We saw a bunch of kids at the mall Friday night on their way to prom. Most of them looked cute, but there were definitely opportunities to be catty. Witness -- the chubby girl in the orange dress with ruching all over, including a gathered seam that went straight down the crack of her ass. Ouch. Speaking of things I didn't want to see that night, a young lady in the mall was wearing very tight and very insubstantial white pants, and when she stood up, Monkeygirl and I both stopped breathing and sat paralyzed until she was well past. We could TOTALLY see her bikini area. She was trimmed up, but didn't go for the brazilian.
I'm going to Yosemite with the kids on Thursday. I know this is ridiculous, but one of my concerns is how to keep my bedhead out of the public eye. I have the worst bedhead I think I've ever seen. It just stands straight up like a giant Q-tip all over. It's kind of a white-fro. And I wouldn't mind so much the kids seeing it, but those little bastards have camera phones.
Mom and I scraped the hell out of the kitchen floor today, so it's down to the bare concrete. I think I may have chemical burns on my ass. You have to use this crazy stuff called Jasco, and it's so serious that it burns through lightweight neoprene gloves.
I had a really delicious and ridiculously expensive dinner last night. We went to the Melting Pot, which I didn't know is a chain. It's a fondue place, and you sit for a very long meal with a cheese fondue course, a salad, an entree with hot poaching liquid and plates of dippables, then a dessert course. We sat down at 5:30 and didn't leave until 9:30. Now, it might not have taken that long, but one of our party members was a little late, so we dawdled a lot over ordering and the cheese, then we sat and talked after dessert, but still... Anyway, it was all quite good. We had a cheddar-y cheese fondue and a swiss-y one, and they came with cut, fresh Granny Smith apples, bread, celery, cauliflower, and carrots. Then the poaching stuff came out. One had all sorts of spices in it and the other had a ton of red wine. They came with mushrooms, tofu, eggplant, summer squash, asparagus, broccoli, potatoes, ravioli... The meat ones had steak, chicken, pork, lobster, shrimp and probably some other stuff (like I pay attention). The food was all tasty, but for what we paid (A LOT a lot), it wasn't really worth it. Most of the places I've been to in the Napa valley weren't as expensive. Even the Culinary Institute was less. And it was, you know, fondue. I had to cook it myself. In a pot sidling up to other people's lobster. Oh, the dessert was really goood. One pot had milk chocolate with peanut butter and the other was dark chocolate in one half and white chocolate in the other. It came with pineapple, strawberries, cheesecake, poundcake, brownie pieces, and marshmallows rolled in Oreo crumbs and graham cracker crumbs. Dude.
Um... I guess that's about it. I've really been rocking out to the classic rock on the radio lately. I swear to god, Slowride by Foghat was on the other day, and I was like "You know, this is a really good song!" Then another day I heard Loggins and Messina's "Angry Eyes," and the same thing happened. I was singing along with the windows down. Then "Dust in the Wind" came on. I don't hate that song, but it is why I quit listening to classic rock radio years ago. I used to wake up to it on my alarm clock, and it got so that I would wake up a few second before it went off and start anticipating what song would come on. I was so good at it I started to think I had E.S.P. Every day the song would pop into my head right before it actually came on the radio. And then, three days in a row, I heard "Dust in the Wind." And I was like, you know what? That's too fuckin' much Kansas at 6:30 in the morning. And I changed the station and didn't listen to classic rock radio for YEARS.
Okay, bye!
Last week a saw a program on TV called "Honey, We're Killing the Kids." It was really horrible. I was kind of rooting for it, because the basic premise is trying to help people who have unhealthy eating habits. But it was rotten. First, they computer-simulate the kids aging as they would if they continue eating as they do now. So they apparently assume the kids are going to grow mullets and choose THE worst frames at Frame and Lens. Or Walmart -- do they do glasses? Anyway, I was laughing at that part when I think I was supposed to be horrified. But then they made all these sweeping changes to the family's life without, apparently, any support. Like they just announced that the parents had to quit smoking, the kids threw their cigarettes out, and TADA! I thought it was really unrealistic. And then they gave the mom a bunch of recipes and shopping lists for the next week, and the first recipe is... wait for it... seafood paella. Kids who are used to burgers and fries, pizza, tacos, have to watch as their mom cleans SQUID. Plus, I'm a pretty good cook, and paella is fucking challenging to make. And all that goddamn fish cannot have been cheap. And KIDS DON'T LIKE SQUID. I mean, maybe some kids do, but I think they're few and far between, and certainly not these two. What a ridiculous first "low-fat" meal! I can think of better recipes than that, and damn near guarantee you that the kids would like them, too. How about a pasta with marinara sauce? How about baked mac and cheese with reduced fat cheese? How about baked, roasted, or grilled chicken? Turkey burgers with no mayo on whole wheat buns? Chili with lean meat or meat substitute? Anyway, I was very disappointed. I don't think the show is that likely to help the featured family in the long run or ANYONE in America ever. I guess I care because I heard my cousin say that she and her son (who I have had a very soft spot in my heart for since the day he was born) have been watching it, and she's overweight but working on it, but he, at 13, is pretty overweight, and I thought maybe this was a positive step. I guess not.
My next door neighbor is on his third real estate agent. I have two tips for him. Bring the price down. Have an open house. He's asking at least $20k more than what the places in this neighborhood are selling for, and there's only been one open house in months. Crazy.
We saw a bunch of kids at the mall Friday night on their way to prom. Most of them looked cute, but there were definitely opportunities to be catty. Witness -- the chubby girl in the orange dress with ruching all over, including a gathered seam that went straight down the crack of her ass. Ouch. Speaking of things I didn't want to see that night, a young lady in the mall was wearing very tight and very insubstantial white pants, and when she stood up, Monkeygirl and I both stopped breathing and sat paralyzed until she was well past. We could TOTALLY see her bikini area. She was trimmed up, but didn't go for the brazilian.
I'm going to Yosemite with the kids on Thursday. I know this is ridiculous, but one of my concerns is how to keep my bedhead out of the public eye. I have the worst bedhead I think I've ever seen. It just stands straight up like a giant Q-tip all over. It's kind of a white-fro. And I wouldn't mind so much the kids seeing it, but those little bastards have camera phones.
Mom and I scraped the hell out of the kitchen floor today, so it's down to the bare concrete. I think I may have chemical burns on my ass. You have to use this crazy stuff called Jasco, and it's so serious that it burns through lightweight neoprene gloves.
I had a really delicious and ridiculously expensive dinner last night. We went to the Melting Pot, which I didn't know is a chain. It's a fondue place, and you sit for a very long meal with a cheese fondue course, a salad, an entree with hot poaching liquid and plates of dippables, then a dessert course. We sat down at 5:30 and didn't leave until 9:30. Now, it might not have taken that long, but one of our party members was a little late, so we dawdled a lot over ordering and the cheese, then we sat and talked after dessert, but still... Anyway, it was all quite good. We had a cheddar-y cheese fondue and a swiss-y one, and they came with cut, fresh Granny Smith apples, bread, celery, cauliflower, and carrots. Then the poaching stuff came out. One had all sorts of spices in it and the other had a ton of red wine. They came with mushrooms, tofu, eggplant, summer squash, asparagus, broccoli, potatoes, ravioli... The meat ones had steak, chicken, pork, lobster, shrimp and probably some other stuff (like I pay attention). The food was all tasty, but for what we paid (A LOT a lot), it wasn't really worth it. Most of the places I've been to in the Napa valley weren't as expensive. Even the Culinary Institute was less. And it was, you know, fondue. I had to cook it myself. In a pot sidling up to other people's lobster. Oh, the dessert was really goood. One pot had milk chocolate with peanut butter and the other was dark chocolate in one half and white chocolate in the other. It came with pineapple, strawberries, cheesecake, poundcake, brownie pieces, and marshmallows rolled in Oreo crumbs and graham cracker crumbs. Dude.
Um... I guess that's about it. I've really been rocking out to the classic rock on the radio lately. I swear to god, Slowride by Foghat was on the other day, and I was like "You know, this is a really good song!" Then another day I heard Loggins and Messina's "Angry Eyes," and the same thing happened. I was singing along with the windows down. Then "Dust in the Wind" came on. I don't hate that song, but it is why I quit listening to classic rock radio years ago. I used to wake up to it on my alarm clock, and it got so that I would wake up a few second before it went off and start anticipating what song would come on. I was so good at it I started to think I had E.S.P. Every day the song would pop into my head right before it actually came on the radio. And then, three days in a row, I heard "Dust in the Wind." And I was like, you know what? That's too fuckin' much Kansas at 6:30 in the morning. And I changed the station and didn't listen to classic rock radio for YEARS.
Okay, bye!
Wednesday, April 19, 2006
Dessert
Dude, appropos of nothing, I was thinking about desserts. I'm really glad tonight that I don't go to chain restaurants like Applebees and Olive Garden. See, at little local restaurants, you're likely to get a scoop of gelato, a piece of cake, a slice of pie, a wedge of chocolate pate... But at a big-ass chain restaurant you get all those things in one bowl plus half the contents of your average vending machine. Like, a Snickers pie brownie Oreo sundae with truffle fudge caramel topping. That kind of thing. And quite frankly... I would eat that sort of thing tonight. So I'm glad I don't go there.
Tuesday, April 18, 2006
World's Longest Book
One of my fellow teachers took pictures all day long on our Berkeley field trip, and I just got the CD. I didn't even realize he took this (obviously, or I'd have smoothed out my forehead wrinkles). This is me reading the World's Longest Book (A Suitable Boy) on the Amtrak on the way home. I'm just glad he didn't catch me licking my fingers after eating my baklava.
Monday, April 17, 2006
Probably just hormones...
but I've been damn near moved to tears twice today.
First, there was an announcement over the intercom that a substitute teacher who has been subbing here for 20 years passed away over the weekend. She was in her 70s and went in her sleep, so that's about all you can hope for, I guess. But she was a really good woman, and always kind and friendly when I would see her in the halls. And though I teach the kids to teach ALL substitutes with respect, there are certainly those that are better than others, and Ms. Ramsey was one of the best. She liked the kids, she liked her job, and she knew what she was doing. I'll be sorry not to see her in the halls any more.
Then, for the first time today I put one of those "This is a safe zone" posters in my window that is supposed to let LGBT kids know that they'll be accepted and protected in my room. I don't know why I've never put one up before, but within about an hour a student I've long suspected of being a lesbian came over to my desk to eat lunch with me, talk to me about the activities they've planned for the Day of Silence, give me a rainbow ribbon I can wear that day... I was really moved that the tiny, insignificant act on my part must have meant so much to her. I'm kicking myself for not having done it before.
Gotta run, it's crunch time -- last quarter starts today! I've already given both sets of 11th graders their final assignment guidelines, and the 9th graders will have theirs within the week (I've already hinted at what it is, but not given them guidelines). Next week is Open House and the Yosemite trip, the two weeks after that are state testing, then I only have three full weeks before I take off early to accompany Sweetie to a library conference... in Hawaii!!
First, there was an announcement over the intercom that a substitute teacher who has been subbing here for 20 years passed away over the weekend. She was in her 70s and went in her sleep, so that's about all you can hope for, I guess. But she was a really good woman, and always kind and friendly when I would see her in the halls. And though I teach the kids to teach ALL substitutes with respect, there are certainly those that are better than others, and Ms. Ramsey was one of the best. She liked the kids, she liked her job, and she knew what she was doing. I'll be sorry not to see her in the halls any more.
Then, for the first time today I put one of those "This is a safe zone" posters in my window that is supposed to let LGBT kids know that they'll be accepted and protected in my room. I don't know why I've never put one up before, but within about an hour a student I've long suspected of being a lesbian came over to my desk to eat lunch with me, talk to me about the activities they've planned for the Day of Silence, give me a rainbow ribbon I can wear that day... I was really moved that the tiny, insignificant act on my part must have meant so much to her. I'm kicking myself for not having done it before.
Gotta run, it's crunch time -- last quarter starts today! I've already given both sets of 11th graders their final assignment guidelines, and the 9th graders will have theirs within the week (I've already hinted at what it is, but not given them guidelines). Next week is Open House and the Yosemite trip, the two weeks after that are state testing, then I only have three full weeks before I take off early to accompany Sweetie to a library conference... in Hawaii!!
Saturday, April 15, 2006
My parents spoke Luxembourgish?!
In my newspaper today:
"Scientologists believe a part of the brain called the "reactive mind" records the words used in every traumatic event, and anything said during labor could trigger a physical response on hearing those words later in life.
For example, if doctors say something such as, "He's in trouble," and that child 14 years later hears the same phrase on his way to the principal's office, it may cause an emotional, even a physical, response, they believe, and the sides of his face may even start to ache as the words trigger the memory of passing through the birth canal."
Yeah, well I figure since I've never experienced that side-of-the-face-squeezing sensation, I must have simply never heard the words that were spoken during my birth. Which, since I know my parents weren't Scientologists and didn't have a silent birth, leads one conclusively to the idea that one must never have heard the words spoken during their birth later in their lifetime. Leading, again conclusively, to the idea that my parents must have been speaking an obscure language that I have never again encountered. I know that an obscure African or Asian language is as likely as Luxembourgish, but you never know. Anyway, I wonder why my parents have been keeping this information from me and why I never heard them speak to one another in this second language. I feel cheated -- I could have been bilingual!
Hey, good luck to Katie Holmes, though. I suspect she's going to need it.
"Scientologists believe a part of the brain called the "reactive mind" records the words used in every traumatic event, and anything said during labor could trigger a physical response on hearing those words later in life.
For example, if doctors say something such as, "He's in trouble," and that child 14 years later hears the same phrase on his way to the principal's office, it may cause an emotional, even a physical, response, they believe, and the sides of his face may even start to ache as the words trigger the memory of passing through the birth canal."
Yeah, well I figure since I've never experienced that side-of-the-face-squeezing sensation, I must have simply never heard the words that were spoken during my birth. Which, since I know my parents weren't Scientologists and didn't have a silent birth, leads one conclusively to the idea that one must never have heard the words spoken during their birth later in their lifetime. Leading, again conclusively, to the idea that my parents must have been speaking an obscure language that I have never again encountered. I know that an obscure African or Asian language is as likely as Luxembourgish, but you never know. Anyway, I wonder why my parents have been keeping this information from me and why I never heard them speak to one another in this second language. I feel cheated -- I could have been bilingual!
Hey, good luck to Katie Holmes, though. I suspect she's going to need it.
Friday, April 14, 2006
Day in the sun, Retarded
Well, I skipped town yesterday to go to a hot springs and loll about in the water and the sun. Actually, when I went the forecast was for cloudy weather and it's been gloomy and rainy nonstop. I thought about not going at all, but we got a streak or two of sunshine here in Sactown, and sometimes that is indicative of what the weather will be like in Napa valley, so after dithering about in the house until 10:30, I finally went "what the hell" and got in the car.
The weather happened to be beautiful. A few degrees colder than I generally prefer my lolling, but nothing uncomfortable. The water was nice, the place wasn't too crowded, and the sun stayed out about 65% of the time. It was delightful. I soaked, read my book (Fargo Rock City -- Thanks Monkeygirl), and didn't fuss with my kitchen, which was what I would have done if I stayed in town.
The only bad part of the day was the driving. On the way there I was thinking of timing the drive between Vacaville and Travis AFB, because I have a friend who's thinking of moving down here and wanted to know. Well, I suspect that under normal circumstances that would be about 5 minutes, but yesterday it was 35. There was an accident, and the traffic was totally stop and go. On the way home traffic was really clear, even around Vacaville which tends to be one of the trouble spots. I was just feeling confident about getting home at a reasonable time when I saw a sign that warned me of slow traffic around Davis. It suggested taking a detour. I thought about it and decided that I would go ahead and take the detour. It couldn't be that bad, right? Soon I realized there were a LOT of people taking the detour. It became clear that the Highway Patrol had diverted ALL the traffic (the radio update thing said there was an overturned big rig and that the freeway would be open again at about 9:30). So four lanes worth of eastbound traffic headed onto the two lane state route 113. Which (I didn't realize this), takes you WAY THE HELL FAR AWAY before it meets I-5. I was in Woodland before I knew it. And then all the traffic from 80 and 113 merged onto 5, which at that point is 2 lanes. Hilarity ensued. Well, if you find human misery hilarious. I got home at 9:57. I had left the freeway a little more than an hour earlier. Normally it would take me about 15 minutes to get home from that point. So I was thinking that if they had just let us sit on the freeway until it reopened at 9:30, I'd have gotten home earlier. I know they can't really do that, but while I was sitting on I-5 stopped dead, trying to keep myself from screaming at the idiot in front of me, it seemed like a pretty good option. (This jerk in a Saturn was either trying really hard to see what was going on ahead of us by swerving to the shoulder, then driving on the line on the right, then going on the shoulder again, or he was driving with his prehensile tail. For 17 miles. Anyway.
On the way to the hot springs, there's a really windy uphill part with multiple passing lanes, but the passing lanes don't start until you've gone a couple miles. Well, there's a guy in front of me doing 15 even in the 35 zones, so I'm being patient, but I'm looking forward to the passing lanes. There are also two people behind me looking, I assume, forward to the same thing. So the first one hits. The guy in front of me stays to the right and I go to the left and hit the gas. But I can't overtake him, because suddenly he's going sixty on these curvy mountain roads. I drop back and get in behind him again. What is up with that piece of shit? Was it a joke? A race? Was it just that he felt the freedom of the open road suddenly? Was HE driving with his prehensile tail? What the fuck?! So I started thinking about the DMV driving test. As it stands, you can miss something like 3 out of 35 with no penalty. But I was thinking that there are certain questions that one should be penalized for. Like, if the question is "A person is crossing the street ahead of you with a white cane. You A) slow down B) stop C) speed up." If you answer C, you should get hit with a stick. Or they should have three options for your results -- pass, fail, and retarded. If you score retarded, you don't even get to re-take the test. You are too retarded to ever drive.
As for retarded, I know as an educator I probably shouldn't use the term, but rest assured that in public I know enough to say "special," "developmentally delayed," "learning disabled," (I can't quite bring myself to say "exceptional," like they did in one class I took)... But retarded just means slowed down, right? And we would all agree that some people are slow-witted, so I'm stickin' with the term retarded, although I have tamed my impulse to do the arm, too.
Okay, today's a putting-the-kitchen-back-together day and I'm hungry for breakfast. Bye!
The weather happened to be beautiful. A few degrees colder than I generally prefer my lolling, but nothing uncomfortable. The water was nice, the place wasn't too crowded, and the sun stayed out about 65% of the time. It was delightful. I soaked, read my book (Fargo Rock City -- Thanks Monkeygirl), and didn't fuss with my kitchen, which was what I would have done if I stayed in town.
The only bad part of the day was the driving. On the way there I was thinking of timing the drive between Vacaville and Travis AFB, because I have a friend who's thinking of moving down here and wanted to know. Well, I suspect that under normal circumstances that would be about 5 minutes, but yesterday it was 35. There was an accident, and the traffic was totally stop and go. On the way home traffic was really clear, even around Vacaville which tends to be one of the trouble spots. I was just feeling confident about getting home at a reasonable time when I saw a sign that warned me of slow traffic around Davis. It suggested taking a detour. I thought about it and decided that I would go ahead and take the detour. It couldn't be that bad, right? Soon I realized there were a LOT of people taking the detour. It became clear that the Highway Patrol had diverted ALL the traffic (the radio update thing said there was an overturned big rig and that the freeway would be open again at about 9:30). So four lanes worth of eastbound traffic headed onto the two lane state route 113. Which (I didn't realize this), takes you WAY THE HELL FAR AWAY before it meets I-5. I was in Woodland before I knew it. And then all the traffic from 80 and 113 merged onto 5, which at that point is 2 lanes. Hilarity ensued. Well, if you find human misery hilarious. I got home at 9:57. I had left the freeway a little more than an hour earlier. Normally it would take me about 15 minutes to get home from that point. So I was thinking that if they had just let us sit on the freeway until it reopened at 9:30, I'd have gotten home earlier. I know they can't really do that, but while I was sitting on I-5 stopped dead, trying to keep myself from screaming at the idiot in front of me, it seemed like a pretty good option. (This jerk in a Saturn was either trying really hard to see what was going on ahead of us by swerving to the shoulder, then driving on the line on the right, then going on the shoulder again, or he was driving with his prehensile tail. For 17 miles. Anyway.
On the way to the hot springs, there's a really windy uphill part with multiple passing lanes, but the passing lanes don't start until you've gone a couple miles. Well, there's a guy in front of me doing 15 even in the 35 zones, so I'm being patient, but I'm looking forward to the passing lanes. There are also two people behind me looking, I assume, forward to the same thing. So the first one hits. The guy in front of me stays to the right and I go to the left and hit the gas. But I can't overtake him, because suddenly he's going sixty on these curvy mountain roads. I drop back and get in behind him again. What is up with that piece of shit? Was it a joke? A race? Was it just that he felt the freedom of the open road suddenly? Was HE driving with his prehensile tail? What the fuck?! So I started thinking about the DMV driving test. As it stands, you can miss something like 3 out of 35 with no penalty. But I was thinking that there are certain questions that one should be penalized for. Like, if the question is "A person is crossing the street ahead of you with a white cane. You A) slow down B) stop C) speed up." If you answer C, you should get hit with a stick. Or they should have three options for your results -- pass, fail, and retarded. If you score retarded, you don't even get to re-take the test. You are too retarded to ever drive.
As for retarded, I know as an educator I probably shouldn't use the term, but rest assured that in public I know enough to say "special," "developmentally delayed," "learning disabled," (I can't quite bring myself to say "exceptional," like they did in one class I took)... But retarded just means slowed down, right? And we would all agree that some people are slow-witted, so I'm stickin' with the term retarded, although I have tamed my impulse to do the arm, too.
Okay, today's a putting-the-kitchen-back-together day and I'm hungry for breakfast. Bye!
Wednesday, April 12, 2006
Punk Rock Drama Nerds of the world unite
 | You scored as Punk/Rebel.
What's Your High School Stereotype? created with QuizFarm.com |
Tuesday, April 11, 2006
Curling, World's Longest Book, Teachers
Okay, I've now admitted this to four people, so I guess I can come out to the world -- until the recent Olympics, I didn't realize that curling was an actual sport. I had heard the term, but never seen it. Well, I had, but under the following circumstances--there's a scene in the movie "Help" (yes, the Beatles movie) where they're brushing at this heavy teakettle-looking thing with brooms on an ice rink. But the movie is full of ridiculous bullshit that they made up, so I assumed that was ridiculous and made-up, too. The fact that I have watched that movie multiple (like, at least tens if not hundreds of times is what makes this story embarassing. But what the hell...
I finished the World's Longest Book. First, I'll tell you the story of how I got the book; sweetie bought me another book for my birthday, one that I had really loved (and already read). So he returned it and found the fattest book on the shelf, apparently (so he said), so that he would get what he paid for, i.e., more than one day's worth of reading for me. So he bought "A Suitable Boy" by Vikram Seth. It was a great book, and he certainly got his money's worth. I really enjoyed it (for WEEKS), but it continued a long tradition of my being disappointed in endings. Well, it wasn't a bad or lame ending or a cop-out of any kind, it just didn't end with the happy ending that I wanted. Let's just leave it at this - there are several boys that would have been suitable, but I was rooting for one. The book was good, but definitely confusing for me at times. I knew nothing about Partition, the Zamindari Act, Nehru, Pakistan, purdah, the caste system (well, I knew Brahmins had it pretty good and untouchables had it pretty bad), Indian customs, manners, and festivals, and a lot of the language. I had to look up dhoti and paan among many others. Also, the name thing was very confusing. I think Mom is Ammaji, Dad is Baoji, and brother is Daadi. It's an endearment to add "ji" to the end of someone's name. People are often referred to by title. A husband can't refer to his wife by name in conversation and vice versa (so they say "Veena's mother" or "The finance minister"). So a dude like "Mahesh Kapoor" could be referred to as Mahesh, Kapoor sahib, Kapoorji, Baoji, the finance minister, the Congress party's candidate, the Nawab Sahib's old friend, Pran's father (or Veena's father or Maan's father), the congressman, etc. And don't forget nicknames -- Lata might be Luts, Kakoli Kuku and Malati Malatji or Malu. Needless to say, this was all very confusing for me, but I worked it out.
And finally, I didn't make the mistake of watching the TV show "Teachers," but it was on in the other room while I did some painting and all I could really hear was the frequent canned laughter. But I'm thinking if they wanted to make a true-to-life show about teachers, it really could be funny. There's just so much material to mine -- the old boys' club in the lunchroom. The windbag who likes to hear himself talk at department meetings. The religious freaks. The pranks we play on one another. The teacher who has to bust a student for doing the same thing he's going to go home and do later. The teacher jargon that we immediately appropriate to make fun of (guess how long "Efficacy" took to become "Defecacy" for example). The muttered comments during the meetings ("What are we doing for the English Language Learners? Oh, we're doing dick, thanks for asking." "Ha. DICK. Differentiating Instruction for Concentrated Knowledge! Our D.I.C.K. program consists of talking louder and pointing at the board." "Ha, yeah, and putting 'O' on the end of words; 'Do you understand-o?'") The fun we make of other teachers (I don't have to tell you how many HOURS we came up dreaming up new and inventive ways to use a new teacher's name in conversation when the gentleman's name was Hiscock (swear to god -- "Is Hiscock growing a beard?" "Hiscock had a lovely sweater on today." "Can't you just see Henry and Hiscock? -- No, the table's blocking my view."). The teachers who still wear Cosby sweaters unironically. The ones who secretly have affairs (never the ones the kids suspect of having affairs). The fact that the kids think they're super-sophisticated, but they really know nothing ("You have friends who are lesbians!!!???!?!?!?!? So, do they date girls or guys?") I could go on -- teachers are a funny bunch. But that show, from what I can tell, is not. And you know what? It sounds like the kind of goofy "situation" comedy that could happen anywhere. If I weren't afraid of folks reading this and recognizing themselves (unlikely as it is), I would write about the crazy shit on here...
I finished the World's Longest Book. First, I'll tell you the story of how I got the book; sweetie bought me another book for my birthday, one that I had really loved (and already read). So he returned it and found the fattest book on the shelf, apparently (so he said), so that he would get what he paid for, i.e., more than one day's worth of reading for me. So he bought "A Suitable Boy" by Vikram Seth. It was a great book, and he certainly got his money's worth. I really enjoyed it (for WEEKS), but it continued a long tradition of my being disappointed in endings. Well, it wasn't a bad or lame ending or a cop-out of any kind, it just didn't end with the happy ending that I wanted. Let's just leave it at this - there are several boys that would have been suitable, but I was rooting for one. The book was good, but definitely confusing for me at times. I knew nothing about Partition, the Zamindari Act, Nehru, Pakistan, purdah, the caste system (well, I knew Brahmins had it pretty good and untouchables had it pretty bad), Indian customs, manners, and festivals, and a lot of the language. I had to look up dhoti and paan among many others. Also, the name thing was very confusing. I think Mom is Ammaji, Dad is Baoji, and brother is Daadi. It's an endearment to add "ji" to the end of someone's name. People are often referred to by title. A husband can't refer to his wife by name in conversation and vice versa (so they say "Veena's mother" or "The finance minister"). So a dude like "Mahesh Kapoor" could be referred to as Mahesh, Kapoor sahib, Kapoorji, Baoji, the finance minister, the Congress party's candidate, the Nawab Sahib's old friend, Pran's father (or Veena's father or Maan's father), the congressman, etc. And don't forget nicknames -- Lata might be Luts, Kakoli Kuku and Malati Malatji or Malu. Needless to say, this was all very confusing for me, but I worked it out.
And finally, I didn't make the mistake of watching the TV show "Teachers," but it was on in the other room while I did some painting and all I could really hear was the frequent canned laughter. But I'm thinking if they wanted to make a true-to-life show about teachers, it really could be funny. There's just so much material to mine -- the old boys' club in the lunchroom. The windbag who likes to hear himself talk at department meetings. The religious freaks. The pranks we play on one another. The teacher who has to bust a student for doing the same thing he's going to go home and do later. The teacher jargon that we immediately appropriate to make fun of (guess how long "Efficacy" took to become "Defecacy" for example). The muttered comments during the meetings ("What are we doing for the English Language Learners? Oh, we're doing dick, thanks for asking." "Ha. DICK. Differentiating Instruction for Concentrated Knowledge! Our D.I.C.K. program consists of talking louder and pointing at the board." "Ha, yeah, and putting 'O' on the end of words; 'Do you understand-o?'") The fun we make of other teachers (I don't have to tell you how many HOURS we came up dreaming up new and inventive ways to use a new teacher's name in conversation when the gentleman's name was Hiscock (swear to god -- "Is Hiscock growing a beard?" "Hiscock had a lovely sweater on today." "Can't you just see Henry and Hiscock? -- No, the table's blocking my view."). The teachers who still wear Cosby sweaters unironically. The ones who secretly have affairs (never the ones the kids suspect of having affairs). The fact that the kids think they're super-sophisticated, but they really know nothing ("You have friends who are lesbians!!!???!?!?!?!? So, do they date girls or guys?") I could go on -- teachers are a funny bunch. But that show, from what I can tell, is not. And you know what? It sounds like the kind of goofy "situation" comedy that could happen anywhere. If I weren't afraid of folks reading this and recognizing themselves (unlikely as it is), I would write about the crazy shit on here...
Saturday, April 08, 2006
Harridans, Eeyore, Dremel, Fake Bake, Chocolate Covered Tater Tots
Tell me there's not SOMETHING in that title you find intriguing...
On the harridans, I just noticed I've seen several parents out in public with their kidlets lately being real bitches to the kids. Not like abusive, just sarcastic or short. Like the woman who said to her 3-year-old, "Geez, Michaela, heard of Kleenex?" Um, maybe, she's THREE. Shouldn't you have that for her? Or the mom in Cost Plus today who kept snarking at wee Evan for touching breakable stuff. Well, ma'am, howsabout holding him then, or not lingering on the breakables aisle? "Evan, BREAK-A-BLE!" And then while she's yelling at him, dad wanders over and interrupts mom to yell at Evan, so that they're both yelling at the same time. Now listen, if you're Evan or Michaela's mom and you're reading this, I respect that it's probably very, very difficult to deal with little ones in public with all the possibilities of whining, snot, breakage, etc. And no one is saying you should leave them home or something, but I do think there are proactive things you can do, like have Kleenex and not talk to your kid in a tone I wouldn't use on the rudest stranger in public. I don't know. I suspect the harridans were harridans before they ever had kids, but on the slightest chance that it really is the having of children that did that to them, PLEASE GOD, do not let that happen to me.
I saw an Eeyore sticker on the back of someone's car today, and I couldn't quite make out how he was sitting. His face was recognizable, but what was going on below? Oh god, it isn't... is it? Could this be the natural progression of the Calvin peeing stickers? I don't know, I never could really tell, but what kind of fucking world do we live in if it could even OCCUR to me that there might be an "Eeyore shitting" sticker on someone's car?
I have been missing my Dremel tool for ages. I started looking for it about a month ago, and I just could not remember where it was, or even the last time I'd used it. I suspected it was in the garage, but looked and looked and couldn't find it. I gave up for a while, but with Sweetie's prodding (I told him I was going to make something and he really wants me to), I started looking again. We tore the garage apart. I looked in all kinds of ridiculous places just in case. I was just about to give up when I saw a narrow box sitting sideways behind two 25 lb bags of concrete. I pulled it up and there it was! I was sure it was gone, but now I am again the proud owner of a Dremel tool RRRRrrrr. RRRRrrrrrr! Watch out!
There was a girl in my ballet class today that looked just like a white girl except for her skin tone. I swear, I kept trying to look at her and think "Indian?" "Hispanic?" But she was darker than most of my African-American students. Her facial features had NOTHING of the ethnic about them. I think she was just super super fake tanned. For those of you who've never seen my dad in August, this won't work for you, so think of mahogany wood stain, but for those of you who have... think of that. It was creepy-looking. Now I know I'm going to find out she has some terrible condition, and the skin color is a side-effect of the medication, and then I'm going to feel really bad for thinking she looks like a freak. Pre-emptive guilt.
And finally, I was watching "Ham on the Street," a Food Network show with this wierd comedy guy who tackles one subject and then interviews people on the streets and such. Anyway, the show was about chocolate, and he was blindfolding people and feeding them chocolate covered stuff. He started with a baby carrot, and I thought "it doesn't sound great, but I'd eat that." Then he put a little cheddar cheese on a toothpick and covered it in chocolate. I thought that sounded pretty good. Then he did a tater-tot, and I thought "Right on!" Later he made chocolate truffles with goat cheese filling (he whipped it with powdered sugar and lemon juice, I think), and I again thought that sounded pretty damn good. Which may just go to show you that I am a true chocoholic. But people thought the cheese thing was really wierd, and I don't at all. For example, tiramisu has mascarpone cheese in it. Many desserts have Neufchatel. Cheesecake has cheese. Blintzes have ricotta. I would like to say that I am completely in favor of cheese desserts. And the slight tanginess of goat cheese with the powdered sugar and a dark chocolate? Dude, I would genuinely like to try that.
Okay, really that was it -- I blogged just to get all that trivial shit out of the way.
On the harridans, I just noticed I've seen several parents out in public with their kidlets lately being real bitches to the kids. Not like abusive, just sarcastic or short. Like the woman who said to her 3-year-old, "Geez, Michaela, heard of Kleenex?" Um, maybe, she's THREE. Shouldn't you have that for her? Or the mom in Cost Plus today who kept snarking at wee Evan for touching breakable stuff. Well, ma'am, howsabout holding him then, or not lingering on the breakables aisle? "Evan, BREAK-A-BLE!" And then while she's yelling at him, dad wanders over and interrupts mom to yell at Evan, so that they're both yelling at the same time. Now listen, if you're Evan or Michaela's mom and you're reading this, I respect that it's probably very, very difficult to deal with little ones in public with all the possibilities of whining, snot, breakage, etc. And no one is saying you should leave them home or something, but I do think there are proactive things you can do, like have Kleenex and not talk to your kid in a tone I wouldn't use on the rudest stranger in public. I don't know. I suspect the harridans were harridans before they ever had kids, but on the slightest chance that it really is the having of children that did that to them, PLEASE GOD, do not let that happen to me.
I saw an Eeyore sticker on the back of someone's car today, and I couldn't quite make out how he was sitting. His face was recognizable, but what was going on below? Oh god, it isn't... is it? Could this be the natural progression of the Calvin peeing stickers? I don't know, I never could really tell, but what kind of fucking world do we live in if it could even OCCUR to me that there might be an "Eeyore shitting" sticker on someone's car?
I have been missing my Dremel tool for ages. I started looking for it about a month ago, and I just could not remember where it was, or even the last time I'd used it. I suspected it was in the garage, but looked and looked and couldn't find it. I gave up for a while, but with Sweetie's prodding (I told him I was going to make something and he really wants me to), I started looking again. We tore the garage apart. I looked in all kinds of ridiculous places just in case. I was just about to give up when I saw a narrow box sitting sideways behind two 25 lb bags of concrete. I pulled it up and there it was! I was sure it was gone, but now I am again the proud owner of a Dremel tool RRRRrrrr. RRRRrrrrrr! Watch out!
There was a girl in my ballet class today that looked just like a white girl except for her skin tone. I swear, I kept trying to look at her and think "Indian?" "Hispanic?" But she was darker than most of my African-American students. Her facial features had NOTHING of the ethnic about them. I think she was just super super fake tanned. For those of you who've never seen my dad in August, this won't work for you, so think of mahogany wood stain, but for those of you who have... think of that. It was creepy-looking. Now I know I'm going to find out she has some terrible condition, and the skin color is a side-effect of the medication, and then I'm going to feel really bad for thinking she looks like a freak. Pre-emptive guilt.
And finally, I was watching "Ham on the Street," a Food Network show with this wierd comedy guy who tackles one subject and then interviews people on the streets and such. Anyway, the show was about chocolate, and he was blindfolding people and feeding them chocolate covered stuff. He started with a baby carrot, and I thought "it doesn't sound great, but I'd eat that." Then he put a little cheddar cheese on a toothpick and covered it in chocolate. I thought that sounded pretty good. Then he did a tater-tot, and I thought "Right on!" Later he made chocolate truffles with goat cheese filling (he whipped it with powdered sugar and lemon juice, I think), and I again thought that sounded pretty damn good. Which may just go to show you that I am a true chocoholic. But people thought the cheese thing was really wierd, and I don't at all. For example, tiramisu has mascarpone cheese in it. Many desserts have Neufchatel. Cheesecake has cheese. Blintzes have ricotta. I would like to say that I am completely in favor of cheese desserts. And the slight tanginess of goat cheese with the powdered sugar and a dark chocolate? Dude, I would genuinely like to try that.
Okay, really that was it -- I blogged just to get all that trivial shit out of the way.
It's Spring Break!!!
Well, we had a fantastic field trip the other day. We took the juniors to UC Berkeley, and everything went smoothly. The Amtrak and BART rides were fun, we had a nice casual walking tour of the campus, bought tickets to go up in the Campanile and hear the Carillon being played. I had no idea that the bells were played by an actual person, and it was a really impressive concert. The view from up there was incredible, too. You could see Angel Island, Alcatraz, the Golden Gate, Oakland... It was only $2 for adults and $1 for kids. I really highly recommend it if you're there at the time that the Carillon is being played, which happens three times a day. Then we sort of split up for lunch and a bit of wandering around on Telegraph Avenue. When we regrouped, we had a 1 1/2 hour tour of the campus led by a freshman who went to a high school local to us, which was great, because the kids could really see themselves in his shoes, you know? We learned all sorts of interesting things about the campus, including a bunch of funny trivia. We got to go into the arena and see the NCAA girls' basketball team practicing. It's a really beautiful campus. I always wanted to go there, and in a way I regret that I didn't, even though my life wouldn't be where it is right now if I had, and I really like my life right now. Anyway, then we had a little more time to wander, and I led an expedition to Urban Outfitters. Then we headed home. There was really only one negative about the whole day -- a couple of the kids got high before they came, so we had to threaten them with all kinds of nastiness, call the VP, talk to their parents, and then of course they spent the whole day just sick over the prospect of facing their parents. I remember that feeling. I almost feel bad for the little boneheads, but they made the damn fool decision, so you can't feel too bad. Oh well. Overall, it was a really terrific day.
I watched The Constant Gardener last night and Wedding Crashers a few nights ago. I must be in an anti-movie mood or something, because I'd heard great things about both movies (in different senses, of course), and I wasn't really crazy about either one. With Wedding Crashers, I just didn't believe the romance part of it, and the comedy part wasn't all that funny. Sure there were funny parts, but as a whole, I didn't have any problem turning it off in the middle and finishing it the next day.
I'm going to spoil the Constant Gardener, so if you haven't seen it, quit reading....
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Okay, so it's supposed to be all suspenseful, but there's nothing all that suspenseful that happens. One consequence of Tessa's actions is pretty much laid out in the first five minutes, and one doesn't happen until the end but is pretty much inevitable from the start. And all the stuff in the middle where the movie tried to insinuate that Tessa was a big whore was just not convincing at all. I mean, from moment one when Arnold puts his hand proprietarily on Tessa's back, the movie is hinting that they're having an affair, but I just never thought it was true, no matter how much the movie kept insisting with shots of them teasing and flirting and him looking at her. In fact, in the hospital when the camera pans from Arnold, to Tessa nursing the black baby, to Justin looking tense, I thought "Oh, I guess I was wrong!" But then they sorted that out, too. And even in that moment I was semi-skeptically thinking "Geez, most mixed-race babies aren't that dark when they're born." The movie gave WAY too much away, so that when we found out what was really going on, it was like "duh." Not that it wasn't a beautiful film and good in other ways, but I miss the days of Hitchcock...
--CM
I watched The Constant Gardener last night and Wedding Crashers a few nights ago. I must be in an anti-movie mood or something, because I'd heard great things about both movies (in different senses, of course), and I wasn't really crazy about either one. With Wedding Crashers, I just didn't believe the romance part of it, and the comedy part wasn't all that funny. Sure there were funny parts, but as a whole, I didn't have any problem turning it off in the middle and finishing it the next day.
I'm going to spoil the Constant Gardener, so if you haven't seen it, quit reading....
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.
.
.
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.
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.
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Okay, so it's supposed to be all suspenseful, but there's nothing all that suspenseful that happens. One consequence of Tessa's actions is pretty much laid out in the first five minutes, and one doesn't happen until the end but is pretty much inevitable from the start. And all the stuff in the middle where the movie tried to insinuate that Tessa was a big whore was just not convincing at all. I mean, from moment one when Arnold puts his hand proprietarily on Tessa's back, the movie is hinting that they're having an affair, but I just never thought it was true, no matter how much the movie kept insisting with shots of them teasing and flirting and him looking at her. In fact, in the hospital when the camera pans from Arnold, to Tessa nursing the black baby, to Justin looking tense, I thought "Oh, I guess I was wrong!" But then they sorted that out, too. And even in that moment I was semi-skeptically thinking "Geez, most mixed-race babies aren't that dark when they're born." The movie gave WAY too much away, so that when we found out what was really going on, it was like "duh." Not that it wasn't a beautiful film and good in other ways, but I miss the days of Hitchcock...
--CM
Wednesday, April 05, 2006
Smell my finger. It smells like candy!
Is it wrong to buy anti-bactierial hand gel simply because it smells like my old Strawberry Shortcake dolls? Not one of them in particular, but the smell of Strawberry Shortcake, Angel Food Cake, Lemon Meringue, Blueberry Muffin and the crew when I would open up their big plastic strawberry-shaped carrying case. Anyway, if, like me, you miss that smell, I highly recommend Bath and Body Works' Raspberry Vanilla. I used it this morning, then went into my meeting. I saw the guy next to me (who is a certified oddball, but I like him), sniffing at the air, then sort of gulping and tasting the air around him. I looked at him curiously and he said "I smell something like candy, but I can't identify what it is." I passed my hand over to his face and he smelled it, smiled in recognition, and wrote "Candy!" on his note paper.
I had a great day today. We had our Poetry Out Loud competition, and it could hardly have gone better if, well, if somebody qualified had organized it. The kids totally rocked the house (as much as you can rock a house with poetry), the audience was quiet and respectful, the folks from the CA Arts Council were impressed... it ruled. It gave me total warm fuzzies. Then in the 5 minutes between work and ballet, I ate dinner in the hammock because we had about 10 mintues of sunshine. (It's been raining and gray nonstop for ages.)
It's already past my bedtime, and I had more to say, but we have a field trip tomorrow, so I'd better go.
Take care!!
--CM
I had a great day today. We had our Poetry Out Loud competition, and it could hardly have gone better if, well, if somebody qualified had organized it. The kids totally rocked the house (as much as you can rock a house with poetry), the audience was quiet and respectful, the folks from the CA Arts Council were impressed... it ruled. It gave me total warm fuzzies. Then in the 5 minutes between work and ballet, I ate dinner in the hammock because we had about 10 mintues of sunshine. (It's been raining and gray nonstop for ages.)
It's already past my bedtime, and I had more to say, but we have a field trip tomorrow, so I'd better go.
Take care!!
--CM
Tuesday, April 04, 2006
Take two loads off, Annie
Load number 1: I was worried about my evaluation this year because of the recent fracas over my philosophical differences with the principal. As it turns out, though, although he is neurotic, he is not vindictive.
Load number 1 -- DUMPED.
Load number 2: I signed up for a computer course that meets every Thursday until the first part of June. I need the class (for credit, not for learning), but it was already going to be a bit of a stretch to get there in time -- it's across town at rush hour, and I can barely eat, especially since I pretty much HAVE to go to the Thursday afternoon "study team" meeting here at school. But beyond that, I was going to miss two classes due to field trips I'm chaperoning. Well, it turns out that you can't miss two classes, so I had to drop. I still need it, but I'll take it in the summer.
Load number 2 -- DUMPED
I feel like I'm filled with helium.
Load number 1 -- DUMPED.
Load number 2: I signed up for a computer course that meets every Thursday until the first part of June. I need the class (for credit, not for learning), but it was already going to be a bit of a stretch to get there in time -- it's across town at rush hour, and I can barely eat, especially since I pretty much HAVE to go to the Thursday afternoon "study team" meeting here at school. But beyond that, I was going to miss two classes due to field trips I'm chaperoning. Well, it turns out that you can't miss two classes, so I had to drop. I still need it, but I'll take it in the summer.
Load number 2 -- DUMPED
I feel like I'm filled with helium.
Sunday, April 02, 2006
Yoga, Subaru, Volumen, Bootie -- not just words that make me laugh
Note to self re: Yoga. Unless you WANT to spend an hour and a half spiralling into self-hatred, do not sit where you can see yourself in the mirror. I spent the entire hour hearing "Breathe. Let everything go. Clear your mind," from the instructor, while from my inner voice it was more like "Holy god, I am FAT. I wonder if I'm the fattest person in the room. Maybe if I tense my transverse abdominals like she's always talking about I'll look better. OH GAWD, NO! Now it looks like my belly is divided in the middle and I have additional teats, like a sow!"
Note to self re: Yoga #2. Do not wear that blue racer back again. Yeah, I wore a baggy t-shirt my first class, but in downward dog I kept having to grab at it for fear of exposing myself. So the next week I wore a tighter top, and it fits funny. I just got it at Target, and while it's snug around the bra-line, it shifts around on the upper outside of my boobs so that in certain positions I'm always in danger of falling out sideways, and in others I'm in danger of falling out over the top. Now, back in the day, (pre breast-reduction) I was ALWAYS falling out of something. Hell, I could have fallen out of a poncho or a turtleneck (go ahead and visualize, I don't mind). But now? Now they're so petite they hardly move around, so what the hell is up with this shirt?
Subaru -- Ah, the Subaru. I used to laugh at you, mainly because of the Dr. Demento show song "Making love in a Subaru," (yes, I was that geeky), but you earned my respect back when my friend Kriste and I were all dressed up for the punk rock show and her car battery died and we needed a jump and the only person who would help us (because we were scary-looking) was a guy in a white Subaru. Years later, I had a mentor teacher who drove one and really loved it. Well, I've been thinking that next car (which is at least 5 years away) might be a Subaru, so I'm paying more attention when I see them on the road. And do you know what I've noticed? Check it out yourself and see -- the Subarus that are meant to be outdoorsy (like the Outback and the Baja) seem WAY more likely to actually have dirt on them or have bikes, kayaks and canoes strapped to them than SUVs or light trucks. I swear, the people in the Subarus are ACTIVE. It's kind of cool.
I went with Monkeygirl to see a show on Tuesday night. There was an old ambulance parked out front that looked really familiar, and the band looked really familiar, and their name sounded familiar, but because they were from Montana, I pretty much convinced myself that I was wrong and couldn't have seen them before. But I was wrong -- on the way out, I stopped to talk to Charles (um, I can't even think of a good blog fake name for him, he's just a local music guy) and he was like "Oh, the Volumen were asking about you! They played with you guys years ago, like at your first show?" Yeah! Shit, that WAS our first show! I had totally forgotten, that was at Primo's, this little dive bar, and Robert American/Rob Schizmo had set up the show. I can't believe I didn't remember right away. It was cool to see them again. It was actually a fun show, too -- they had a very late-70's rock look, headbands and all, which I've been seeing a lot lately. They looked like Ben Stiller in Dodgeball, but the music was fun, and they had a laser-activated sound thingie! Anyway, that really took me back... Sigh, our first show...
And finally, I was in Macy's yesterday morning and there was a girl on the escalator in front of me with pajama-ish pants on, and she sort of had a wedgie (they were at eye level, of course I noticed!), and at the same moment, I thought of Monkeygirl's description of that as "hungry bootie" and I noticed that her pants said "Curve" across the ass. That whole "word-across-the-ass" trend is strange to me, but whatever. They were clearly some sort of marketing giveaway from the fragrance Curve (same font and everything), but it struck my that it would be funny to have pants that said "Hungry" across the bootie, especially if you were like Kate Moss-skinny. Or that maybe it would be even funnier to Photoshop some skinny model's ass and change the word "Juicy" to "Hungry." I don't do Photoshop, so feel free to steal my idea, I'd just like to see it's fruition.
Okay, I probably have more to tell, like my trip to Alameda yesterday, but I'm tired and busy and need to get off the computer.
Take care, y'all.
Note to self re: Yoga #2. Do not wear that blue racer back again. Yeah, I wore a baggy t-shirt my first class, but in downward dog I kept having to grab at it for fear of exposing myself. So the next week I wore a tighter top, and it fits funny. I just got it at Target, and while it's snug around the bra-line, it shifts around on the upper outside of my boobs so that in certain positions I'm always in danger of falling out sideways, and in others I'm in danger of falling out over the top. Now, back in the day, (pre breast-reduction) I was ALWAYS falling out of something. Hell, I could have fallen out of a poncho or a turtleneck (go ahead and visualize, I don't mind). But now? Now they're so petite they hardly move around, so what the hell is up with this shirt?
Subaru -- Ah, the Subaru. I used to laugh at you, mainly because of the Dr. Demento show song "Making love in a Subaru," (yes, I was that geeky), but you earned my respect back when my friend Kriste and I were all dressed up for the punk rock show and her car battery died and we needed a jump and the only person who would help us (because we were scary-looking) was a guy in a white Subaru. Years later, I had a mentor teacher who drove one and really loved it. Well, I've been thinking that next car (which is at least 5 years away) might be a Subaru, so I'm paying more attention when I see them on the road. And do you know what I've noticed? Check it out yourself and see -- the Subarus that are meant to be outdoorsy (like the Outback and the Baja) seem WAY more likely to actually have dirt on them or have bikes, kayaks and canoes strapped to them than SUVs or light trucks. I swear, the people in the Subarus are ACTIVE. It's kind of cool.
I went with Monkeygirl to see a show on Tuesday night. There was an old ambulance parked out front that looked really familiar, and the band looked really familiar, and their name sounded familiar, but because they were from Montana, I pretty much convinced myself that I was wrong and couldn't have seen them before. But I was wrong -- on the way out, I stopped to talk to Charles (um, I can't even think of a good blog fake name for him, he's just a local music guy) and he was like "Oh, the Volumen were asking about you! They played with you guys years ago, like at your first show?" Yeah! Shit, that WAS our first show! I had totally forgotten, that was at Primo's, this little dive bar, and Robert American/Rob Schizmo had set up the show. I can't believe I didn't remember right away. It was cool to see them again. It was actually a fun show, too -- they had a very late-70's rock look, headbands and all, which I've been seeing a lot lately. They looked like Ben Stiller in Dodgeball, but the music was fun, and they had a laser-activated sound thingie! Anyway, that really took me back... Sigh, our first show...
And finally, I was in Macy's yesterday morning and there was a girl on the escalator in front of me with pajama-ish pants on, and she sort of had a wedgie (they were at eye level, of course I noticed!), and at the same moment, I thought of Monkeygirl's description of that as "hungry bootie" and I noticed that her pants said "Curve" across the ass. That whole "word-across-the-ass" trend is strange to me, but whatever. They were clearly some sort of marketing giveaway from the fragrance Curve (same font and everything), but it struck my that it would be funny to have pants that said "Hungry" across the bootie, especially if you were like Kate Moss-skinny. Or that maybe it would be even funnier to Photoshop some skinny model's ass and change the word "Juicy" to "Hungry." I don't do Photoshop, so feel free to steal my idea, I'd just like to see it's fruition.
Okay, I probably have more to tell, like my trip to Alameda yesterday, but I'm tired and busy and need to get off the computer.
Take care, y'all.
Saturday, April 01, 2006
Hey!
I'm keeping busy as ever, which is why I haven't updated much. Here's the lowdown:
Yesterday was Cesar Chavez day, which is probably a much bigger deal in California than in NY (Hi Suzanne!). Of course all the immigration stuff has been in the news recently, and the kids at our school are interested and want to take action, they just don't know exactly how to be effective. For example, one day all the Hispanic kids were not talking to their teachers. Except they all forgot to not talk to me. And I don't really see how that achieves much anyway -- teachers are overwhelmingly liberal, and probably on the kids' side. "That's right! Don't talk to me! You exercise those civil rights!"
Anyway, one day there was a half-hearted walkout that didn't go much of anywhere. Listen, I'd have been the first one off campus in a walkout ("My Latino brothers and sisters! Mi familia! Viva la raza! Si se puede!"), but that's mainly because I really liked to seem like an activist and even more so liked to skip school. But all the talk was that the big action was going to happen Friday. That maybe there actually would be some sort of walkout. Some of the teachers, however, convinced the kids to have a "walk-in" instead, where during 2nd period they went to an assembly in the auditorium. They had to have a pass, but passes were given out freely. Then after the assembly, the kids were to return to their other classes and do a "teach-in," where they passed along the information about Chavez' life and principles, as well as some information on immigration, etc. It went surprisingly well. I had students in every period after the assembly who were willing to do the teach-in, and the rest of my lesson for the day was also based on immigration and people's misconceptions and misunderstandings about it. It was cool.
In other school news, I kind of fucked up. I always talk with one of the ballet girls about school and education, since she's a parent advocate and very interested in education herself. Well, she's recently become part of the budget committee (since we're $10,000,000 in the hole, they've decided to examine the budget a bit), and I was telling her about the fact that we use this program that gets photocopied and is consumable, and we use it instead of the textbook, which of course we paid massive amounts of money for. So the textbooks get dusty and these photocopied things take up reams and reams and reams of paper. Anyway, she reports it to the budget committee and the principal traces the leak right back to me. Hell, I didn't think I was being Deep Throat. He's agitated about it, I'm agitated about it, my final evaluation is Monday, so the timing couldn't be worse. I still think I'm right, and that it's a ginormous waste of money, but it isn't my place to rat out the school, I guess. Anyway, suckety suckety suck. I hope it blows over.
In unrelated news, I started the computer class I have to take to "clear" my credential, which sounds very L Ron Hubbard, doesn't it? We spent three hours the other night discovering how to make folders, transfer files into those folders, and make the mouse go faster and slower. I could've died. I did most of the first three weeks' homework while I was sitting there. It's a ten week class, and I think next week we get to learn how to use "Word." I'm excited. Although I might be of some use -- the two people next to me started with the questions the second we walked in ("What was the password? What do we do when this box comes up?") and continued throughout ("Where does the flash drive go? How do I get to that screen? What is the header and footer? How did he tile the windows?") I didn't really mind, as it gave me something to do.
The teacher seems relatively cool. At one point he was telling us about cool web sites, like frogguts.com, where you can virtually dissect a frog. About an hour later, when we were first really USING the computer, he was like "whatever you do, don't go on the internet. Ha ha, just kidding." And I replied "Oh, good, 'cause I already dissected the frog!" I had, too.
I can't get enough of my Deadboy and the Elephantmen album. I usually hear that something's cool, check it out, buy it, listen to it a couple times, and then it joins the random rotation. But I keep listening and listening to this one. It's kind of Modest Mouse-y, in that it's modern sounding, and kind of pop with a dark edge, but for some reason I also keep thinking of the Doors. Not in sound, really, but in mood. I recommend it.
My choir class finished, and although it was shaky at points, we finished on the last day by learning the last 6 measures or so, and they performed it in class with the timing exactly right. If you know anything about madrigals, you know that's hard. Now, I'm not saying it was beautiful. But the timing was right on. It was pretty cool.
Today I'm driving to Alameda to go to a friend's housewarming, which means I probably better get off my ass. I guess that's it for now then. Take care!
--CM
Yesterday was Cesar Chavez day, which is probably a much bigger deal in California than in NY (Hi Suzanne!). Of course all the immigration stuff has been in the news recently, and the kids at our school are interested and want to take action, they just don't know exactly how to be effective. For example, one day all the Hispanic kids were not talking to their teachers. Except they all forgot to not talk to me. And I don't really see how that achieves much anyway -- teachers are overwhelmingly liberal, and probably on the kids' side. "That's right! Don't talk to me! You exercise those civil rights!"
Anyway, one day there was a half-hearted walkout that didn't go much of anywhere. Listen, I'd have been the first one off campus in a walkout ("My Latino brothers and sisters! Mi familia! Viva la raza! Si se puede!"), but that's mainly because I really liked to seem like an activist and even more so liked to skip school. But all the talk was that the big action was going to happen Friday. That maybe there actually would be some sort of walkout. Some of the teachers, however, convinced the kids to have a "walk-in" instead, where during 2nd period they went to an assembly in the auditorium. They had to have a pass, but passes were given out freely. Then after the assembly, the kids were to return to their other classes and do a "teach-in," where they passed along the information about Chavez' life and principles, as well as some information on immigration, etc. It went surprisingly well. I had students in every period after the assembly who were willing to do the teach-in, and the rest of my lesson for the day was also based on immigration and people's misconceptions and misunderstandings about it. It was cool.
In other school news, I kind of fucked up. I always talk with one of the ballet girls about school and education, since she's a parent advocate and very interested in education herself. Well, she's recently become part of the budget committee (since we're $10,000,000 in the hole, they've decided to examine the budget a bit), and I was telling her about the fact that we use this program that gets photocopied and is consumable, and we use it instead of the textbook, which of course we paid massive amounts of money for. So the textbooks get dusty and these photocopied things take up reams and reams and reams of paper. Anyway, she reports it to the budget committee and the principal traces the leak right back to me. Hell, I didn't think I was being Deep Throat. He's agitated about it, I'm agitated about it, my final evaluation is Monday, so the timing couldn't be worse. I still think I'm right, and that it's a ginormous waste of money, but it isn't my place to rat out the school, I guess. Anyway, suckety suckety suck. I hope it blows over.
In unrelated news, I started the computer class I have to take to "clear" my credential, which sounds very L Ron Hubbard, doesn't it? We spent three hours the other night discovering how to make folders, transfer files into those folders, and make the mouse go faster and slower. I could've died. I did most of the first three weeks' homework while I was sitting there. It's a ten week class, and I think next week we get to learn how to use "Word." I'm excited. Although I might be of some use -- the two people next to me started with the questions the second we walked in ("What was the password? What do we do when this box comes up?") and continued throughout ("Where does the flash drive go? How do I get to that screen? What is the header and footer? How did he tile the windows?") I didn't really mind, as it gave me something to do.
The teacher seems relatively cool. At one point he was telling us about cool web sites, like frogguts.com, where you can virtually dissect a frog. About an hour later, when we were first really USING the computer, he was like "whatever you do, don't go on the internet. Ha ha, just kidding." And I replied "Oh, good, 'cause I already dissected the frog!" I had, too.
I can't get enough of my Deadboy and the Elephantmen album. I usually hear that something's cool, check it out, buy it, listen to it a couple times, and then it joins the random rotation. But I keep listening and listening to this one. It's kind of Modest Mouse-y, in that it's modern sounding, and kind of pop with a dark edge, but for some reason I also keep thinking of the Doors. Not in sound, really, but in mood. I recommend it.
My choir class finished, and although it was shaky at points, we finished on the last day by learning the last 6 measures or so, and they performed it in class with the timing exactly right. If you know anything about madrigals, you know that's hard. Now, I'm not saying it was beautiful. But the timing was right on. It was pretty cool.
Today I'm driving to Alameda to go to a friend's housewarming, which means I probably better get off my ass. I guess that's it for now then. Take care!
--CM
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