Epic Win

After six years at making half-hearted NaNoWriMo attempts, this year, I set forth a determined message not just to my family but to myself.

Self, I said, you are a story teller. You have been telling stories as long as you can remember and there is no reason why you should struggle and ultimately fail at telling a story. This year, Self, you will win. This year you will take NaNo by the keyboard and write your heart out. This year is your year!

Well, Self, you did it. You said “Screw the laundry!” “Who cares about dinner?” and “So what if nothing is prepared for Christmas!” And you wrote. Every day save one or two when prior obligations (namely a tent and some S’mores) kept you from the keyboard. In fact, you did so well, you were ahead of the word count the entire month! Not once did you fall behind. Final word count 50,500. That’s right. 50ks in 30 days.

So, now what?

Well, a pile of Christmas crafts lurks in the corner of my dining room. A pile of laundry conceals my neglected washer. And 200 pages await a quiet moment of reflection and perhaps printing in January. For now though, my favorite Lobsterman and his lady love are quiet. Their story is still unfinished and after the holidays I will rededicate myself to finishing the story, because everyone deserves a resolution (understand though it probably won’t be a happy one).


So Happy December everyone! And if your Christmas goodies don’t show up until sometime in 2010, just remember that your boxes are late because...

I AM A WINNER!!

It's a Wiener

It all started with the cinnamon balls. My Daisy troop was making part one of their Christmas project, cinnamon applesauce ornament dough rolled into little balls so as to fit inside a paper ornament. As I was the one who brought the cookie sheets for the balls to dry on, they balls came home with me.

I put the three ball filled cookie sheets on the dining room table and didn’t think about them again until Ashleigh came downstairs and made the comment, “Mmmm, Cinnamony.”

“Yup. All my cinnamon balls smell l good.” I replied.

Ashleigh smirked. “That just sounds wrong, Mommy.”

“What?” I say, “Cinnamon balls.”

“Yes,” she replies with a giggle and a blush furiously creeping up her cheeks.

“Why?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she says.

“Oh,” I say, “Has someone learned some new word meanings.”

More blushing and snickering and a small little nod.

So my response? I burst into a song about dangly parts and cinnamon balls. Ashleigh’s response? Fleeing upstairs.

What’s a mom to do? Of course I chased her singing and snickering. And there at the top of the stairs stood a pajama clad Cyra.

“What’s going on?” she asks.

“I’m teasing Ashleigh.” I say.

“Cool. Can I help?”

“NO!” shouts Ashleigh. “I’m going to bed.”

“What are you singing about?”

“Dangly parts.” I say with a laugh. “Now off to bed with you all.”

Cyra walked to the door of her room and paused with a hand on her hip.

“I know what they are called, Mommy,” she says.

“Really?” I say and look at Ashleigh. “What are they called?”

With a blushing grin she says, “It’s a wiener.”

NaNo-Crazy

October has hit hard, crafts have been pushed to the side, work is demanding (now that I’m essentially department head) and holidays are fast approaching. So the big question now is what happens next. Well, as far as I am concerned I am determined to “win” this year at Nano. So the only thing that I am concerned about is words! 50.000 words to be exact. October will be for planning and plotting. And November? Oh sweet November. I can’t wait!

Because (and let me repeat): I AM DETERMINED!!!

You got that? All in caps! I am going to win. Come Hell or High Water. If it kills me. Throw in your own cliché here and that’s what it is!

Every year previous, I have been waylaid by other obligations (holidays, birthdays, crafting and work) that I thought were important or might get fired over, this year? Screw it! If I get fired, well, that’s one more reason for me to succeed in this endeavor! So what if the sink is piled with dishes? So what if the kids wear the same clothes for a week on end!

So, Skype will be turned off when I am home and writing. So dinners will be quick and easy (and probably not at all healthy). The phone might ring, but I won’t answer. Cyra will get a cake, but no big broo-ha-ha! Thanksgiving? Maybe I’ll cook, but I won’t socialize and in between basting and pie making, I’ll be writing.

I am not going to be remembered for my awesome cleaning ability or my devotion to a job. On my death bed, I don’t want people to think back and say, “If only I hadn’t cared so much about laundry, I might have gotten a book written.” On my death bed I want to say, “Fuck Yeah! I am proud of what I did with my life!”

So the coffee if fully stocked. My notebook is empty and full of potential. The computer is mine. The plot is set and in two months, I’ll see where it has brought me.

Where have I been?

I’m still here. I swear. My sister commented today that I haven’t updated my blog for a while and what’s up with that!

I am a bad blogger!!

There are some reasons for my lack of blogging: my computer got sick and needed a new hard drive (thankfully I had backed up all my stuff), I’ve been going to the beach and out with the girls a lot, I’ve been enjoying the laziness of summer…reading trashy novels on the patio, reading really good novels on the patio, playing D&D and Sims, drinking Mojitos, and really just spending time doing nothing which if you think about is the best part of summer vacation. I have no time tables or schedules to follow. I am not bound by obligation to anything or anyone.

Another reason or two: I took the initiative (and those who know me well be shocked and maybe even proud) to start my Christmas crafting now, which is really hard for me to wrap my brain around. Normally, I am rushing and panicking from November through December trying to get everything done. This year? I don’t want to do that for two major reasons:

1) the crafts that I’m doing take time this year
2) NANOWRIMO

The first reason is self explanatory so I will not go into detail, but the second? The second reason is the important one.

For the last four out of five years I have participated in NANOWRIMO – for those not familiar with NANO it stands for National Novel Writing Month. Essentially, a few guys out on the west coast started this idea with the concept that everyone says that they want to write but never do it. Add to that the fact that most people work better with a deadline and you get NANO: One Month, 50,000 words. There is no prize or award, just the satisfaction and pride of doing it.

Every year that I have participated I have not gotten anywhere near to the goal word count. Last year my word count was the highest at 20,000+ (I have more written just not typed so the word count isn’t accurate). But then things happened: Girl Scouts, School, Thanksgiving…pair with that Christmas crafts and my dedicated writing time flew away like a sweet little sparrow chased by a vicious hawk. It was sad for me to make the decision to sacrifice writing time for other things. This year I don’t want to have to make that type of choice.

So, in answer to where have I been. Here. Doing stuff. I’ve got tons to blog about: The rest of my trip, Amanda’s wedding, the Birthday Fiesta O’ Fun, the beach. It’s all here floating around my head waiting.

Summer is about being lazy, especially if you are a kid or a teacher (or a teacher who most of the time acts like a kid). And if there is one thing I’ve learned, it’s okay to be lazy, just not all the time.

Cheers! I am off to make some more Mojito Magic!

Travel Log: I95

There is something special about travelling on an interstate. It is almost like a transporter from Star Trek…or maybe warp speed: travel at ridiculous high speeds, trees sweeping past like stars in the sky, no connection to points along the way…only point A and point B. In order to maintain the illusion that nothing exists outside of the I95 corridor, ingenious evil masterminds plotted and planned rest stops interspersed along the road like a shiny oasis in the Sahara to keep the hapless traveller from venturing off the highway (and thereby discover something cool and totally get sidetracked away from their original trip).

It was at an oasis in North Carolina where the girls and I stopped for lunch that we discovered a Dr. Seuss-like turtle pond.

After we ate our picnic lunch we took a walk to the pond to stretch our legs. Excited to be out of the car for the first time in five hours, the girls enjoyed tossing pebbles and leaves into the water.
It was a nice little pond, it was clean and it was neat…the water seemed warm and the turtles…

OMG!! The turtles!!

Apparently, the turtles are used to people feeding them and as soon as the girls crouched down on the edge of the pond, the began swarming to us. It was like watching circus clowns trying to crawl into their mini car, each trying to claim shotgun. The turtles swam, crawled and pushed each other out of the way trying to get as close to shore as possible without actually touching the edge.

Without exaggeration, the girls and I counted over twenty turtles swarming in the shallows of the pond before we lost count. One especially cheeky little fellow grew oh so bold that it actually started to crawl out of the water and approach Ashleigh. I wasn't sure who was more surprised: Ashleigh with huge eyes, round and shiny, or the turtle, which after a moment or two seemed to suddenly realize that it was out of the water and Yikes! touching grass! And it quickly flipped itself around and plunked itself back into the pond.

All in all it was a lovely lunch and stretch break. None of the other rest stops were as interesting or as pretty...well except for the ones that had a Starbucks.

More Vacation 2009 to come.

Who Ever Heard of a Seasick Pirate?

My dreams of piracy have foundered and been dashed upon the rocks of reality. I made plans for a single event for my vacation that didn’t involve family and that was a whale watch out of the New England Aquarium in Boston. So sit right back and let me tell you the tale of my three hour tour.

To fully appreciate this sailor’s tale, one must first know about the weather. June was quite a stormy month in New England. Watching the weather reports, one would scarcely believe that the sun ever came out in New England. So on the eve of our whale watch as I sat watching the weather, I feared that my afternoon sail would be cancelled because of the weather. Dire reports of severe thunderstorms with excessively deadly cloud to ground lightening, torrential downpours which might include golf ball sized hail, and gusts upwards of “fast” and “swift” could cause damage to trees, phone and power lines, small children, not so small children and ducks threatened to ruin my carefully planned whale watch. When I mentioned this to the girls, they both frowned and tried to reason with me. How was I to know that I control the weather? In any case, Dad and I talked about trying to switch the afternoon cruise to the morning one to avoid the storm.

The next morning was gray and overcast. After a quick breakfast of pop tarts for the girls and a muffin for me, we just made the 7:40 train into Boston. I had figured that this train would leave us enough time to walk the ten – fifteen minutes to the harbor and talk to the ticket counter about switching.

After explaining the concern about the weather, the girl at the ticket counter had no problems switching our reservation to the morning cruise. We lollygagged around the entrance for a good twenty minutes before Jessica, our naturalist, let us board the Voyager III. The boat, a 102 foot catamaran, was impressive sitting dockside. Jessica stood on the ramp and discussed the conditions out on the water, telling us that according to the forecast, there were three foot swells, so those who might be prone to motion or sea sickness should take Dramamine as soon as possible once boarding. Knowing that I might have a problem (recalling a number of rides at theme parks and fairs that left me hunched over a garbage can) I immediately purchased the medicine. I took a full dose and gave the girls a half dose each. I wasn’t really concerned about Ashleigh, the girl loves her roller coasters! But I was a bit nervous about Cyra who has never been on anything more than a carousel.

The ride out of the harbor was pleasant. The tall ships were in dock, so I got some nice pictures of them and of the Boston skyline as we left.

I only remember the name of one of the tall ships: The Eagle, a US Coast Guard ship. Built in 1936 in Germany, the Eagle was taken from Germany as part of war reparation after World War II. The Eagle is the largest tall ship flying the American Flag and the only square-rigger in service to the U.S. government.
We moved into the cabin before we left the harbor because the boat picked up speed and man was it chilly to us Florida Girls!! It wasn’t until we left the shelter of the harbor, that the swells made themselves known. Now, the weather conditions stated that the swells were three feet; however, they felt way bigger than three feet. In fact, the naturalist came on the PA system and made apologizes for the swells, claiming that they were a bit bigger than forecasted.

Ashleigh loved it. So did Cyra (for a little bit) and I was okay, for the most part. I lasted about an hour (including the twenty minutes or so it took to get out of the harbor, before I started feeling a bit queasy. I wasn’t thrilled, but I was okay. Cyra was starting to complain a little, I just tightened my grip on the table.

Oh but sure enough after another fifteen minutes or so, I felt that tell tale hot flash and dizziness that always precedes an upheaval. I shoved the camera at Ashleigh, grabbed a conveniently placed barf bag and seconds later lost most of my breakfast. And boy did I feel better…for about ten minutes, and then I lost the rest of my breakfast. But after that I lasted a good 15-20 minutes and saw a whale and heaved again. And then some more.

So what were the girls doing during all of this? Well, Ashleigh hovered protectively for a few minutes. Then I told her to go and whale watch which she did and she took all of the following photos. Cyra went out on deck for a few minutes; saw a whale and a whale spout then came in claiming to be cold, wet, nauseous and tired. She quickly stretched out on a bench and fell asleep until we were back in the harbor. Dad was great. He threw out my first two bags, got me more, got me some paper towels, and got to see the whales with Ashleigh. Obviously, I did not get my weak stomach from him.

It is hard to see in this photo, but the whale is above the railing and to the left of the other boat. It is about halfwalf between us and the other boat.

Ashleigh saw Fin whales and Minkes, but no Humpbacks. Jessica said that with the weather conditions, it wasn’t all that surprising. More info about the whales we saw:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fin_Whale
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Minke_Whale

All in all, I think it went well. As we disembarked, I thanked Dad, not just for going with us, but for never brining me on a whale watch when I was little, even though I begged and pleaded to go. As I told him, as an adult, I was able to just sit in the cabin and be miserable without bothering anyone. As a child, had I been seasick, I’m sure, knowing me that I would have made everyone miserable! I think I would have been okay if it was a calm day as I had no problem in the harbor and no problems the few times I’ve been out on rivers. Maybe I can be a riverboat pirate!

In any case, the rest of the day proceeded nicely. We loved the aquarium and got some good shots.

The aquarium had a special exhibit on jellyfish. Out of all the pictures I snapped of them, this one came out the best.

I think the one below with the barracuda is great. If you look closely, you can see the girls' reflections.

It is hard to take pictures through thick glass, but I thought this one was cute even though there is a glare.

More about Vacation 2009 will follow, but for right now, I am glad to be home!

Father's Day

We don't much celebrate the smaller commercial holidays. You know the ones: Valentine's Day, Mother's Day, Flag Day...and yes, Father's day. It's not that I am anti the sentiment, but I am anti the whole spend oodles of money to demonstrate love for a certain person.

As I've said before, I show and am shown love daily. I don't need a special day to show it. So for Father's Day, much like Mother's Day, the girls made homemade cards and I pulled from my super secret hiding place one of the DVD's that I purchase throughout the year for birthday, Christmas, any kind of gifty day presents for Scott. This time around Star Trek 2, 3 and 4 special edition set.

Scott has forever been harping on how wonderful The Wrath of Khan is and being a good wife, I nod and say, "yes, of course honey." Unfortunately it has come to Scott's attention that I have actually never seen The Wrath of Khan. In fact, the only original Star Trek movie I have seen is The Voyage Home, which according to some sources is not really the "best" that Star Trek has to offer.

Scott's delightful and slightly maniacal laughter upon receiving the DVDs was disturbing and amusing. But his real gift, the one that I love to give to him received a way better reaction: a huge grin, a ginormous bletch and a full tummy after a big, big breakfast!! Bacon, sausage, French toast, eggs, coffee and juice.

I'm not a superstitious person, however, when it comes to old wives's tales, I firmly believe in "the way to a man's heart, is through his stomach!"

"She's gone from suck to kerplutz"

I'm not sure if I've mentioned this, but I hate cleaning. Now, this isn't really such a big deal, everyone hates cleaning. It's boring, time-consuming and a pain in the butt, especially with kids and animals always making messes...like the nice present Simone left me this morning...a huge furball!

Anyway, even though I hate cleaning, when I do it, it gets done! Shiny like mad. So, in my mad dash to get ready to go to New York, I wanted to get the house clean so that I wouldn't come home to a huge mess. And beside, the Birthday Fiesta O' Fun is almost immediately following my return.

About 9 this morning I told Ashleigh to go vacuum her room. Not a problem, she grabbed the vacuum and I went about cleaning the kitchen. So imagine my surprise when about an hour later I check in Ashleigh's room and the floor looks like a Grand Central Station after rush hour! I call Ashleigh up and demand to know why she didn't vacuum.

"I did, Mom!"

I glare at her. "Really?" I say, "You vacuumed?"

"Yes. I did. The vacuum isn't sucking."

I plug the vacuum in and turn it on and indeed, the vacuum is running and making noise, but no actual cleaning is occurring.

"Hmm." I say flipping the vacuum onto its side. I glared at the undercarriage, hoping some foreign object is just stuck a little. No such luck. Fortunately my sis had left her tool box here and I grabbed a screwdriver and began my invasive surgery.

After making the innards outards, I discovered a ripped, broken, melted and dirty belt flopping around. Ok. I think to myself. Easy enough fix. Go to Sears, get a belt, replace, good to go.

Easy sneezy! My plan exceeded my expectations. I went to Sears, with the broken belt, the model number of the vacuum, three pictures of the undercarriage in various degrees of zoom and demanded from the first Blue Shirt I saw, "Help!"

Okay, it was nothing so dramatic. Although it did take the guy a few minutes to locate the correct belt. I purchased said belt and returned home triumphantly brandishing the vacuum cleaner belt as if I had made it myself. I quickly fixed the machine, replaced innards, and set Ashleigh to work.

The floor was beautiful. Then Ashleigh started on the stairs. She accidentally sucked up a sock. From in the living room, I heard a "suck-thump" but didn't think much of it until the smell of burning rubber and the high pitched whine of a engine trying to work overtime penetrated my cleaning focus.

I rushed out into the hallway and yelled for Ashleigh to turn it off.

"Don't you smell that?" I asked.

"Yeah."

"And?"

"What?"

"When it smells like that something is wrong and you need to turn it off before it explodes!"

"Oh," she replied, "Okay. Can I watch TV?"

"No." I tell her, "you are going to help me figure out what's wrong."

A few minutes later, sock in one hand and melted, broken and smelly belt in the other, I looked up at Ashleigh sitting on the stairs. She had an apologetic grin on her face.

"So," she said, " Back to Sears?"

I nodded.

"Maybe you should get two belts this time." she said.

Maybe that grin was less sorry and more sass...

Conflicted Schedules

Where does the time go? I had very precise schedules for the two weeks between the end of school and the trip to New York. I wrote everything down in my planner. I’m playing by the rules, why is everything else not?

I now have just over eight days to get ready to go. This coming week is so crazy busy I doubt that I will have time to sleep unless I schedule it in.

Sunday – mad morning cleaning to get ready for Game Session #4. I love my new gaming group. They are unobtrusive and only come over once every two weeks or so. Unfortunately, that means that I am unmotivated to clean until the day before or morning of their arrival. It’s my own fault, I know. I just don’t like cleaning when I could be doing other more fun things.

Monday – The girls have dentist appointments in the afternoon. Now I know it is crazy to have kept the doctors in St. Augustine, but I love our doctors and dislike change, so to St. Augustine we go. Of course, if we are in St. Augustine, then I don’t have to go out of my way to go to Mango Mango’s for lunch.

Tuesday – Cleaning/laundry in the morning, then I have a four hour test in the afternoon. Most likely it will only take me about one hour, but still. I am taking my Social Science subject area test so I can add history to my certification.

Wednesday – We are going to the zoo. I could skip it; however, I am on a scrapbooking mission where I have envisioned this awesome “Year at the Zoo” book and Wednesday is the only day I can go in order to meet my June visit requirement.

Thursday – Another test, ESOL this time, first thing in the morning. As an ELA teacher I am required to be certified in this. I am wholly unprepared for this test as there doesn’t seem to be a study guide for it anywhere. But I figured at this point, take it blind and then I can review from my collection of textbooks as needed. In the after noon I need to continue doing laundry and start packing.

Friday – cleaning, packing, laundry, shopping

Saturday – prepare for Father’s Day…still don’t know what I’ll be doing for Scott. Continue laundry and complete major packing.

Sunday – Father’s Day…big breakfast maybe, Scott really likes that. Pack car. Get a good night’s sleep to get ready to vamoose in the early, early AM.

Not scheduled in this list, but I need to find time for: plan, start and complete favors for the Birthday Fiesta O’ Fun, compile list of recipes and shopping list for said Fiesta, special order mint from Publix (all because of my cursed thumb-its black not green!), play with girls, go to pool with girls, hang out with Mom, call the mortgage company and plead with them to help me, curse out the mortgage company because I know they won’t help, call/email my non-family peeps in NY and make arrangements to hang out…

I need a secretary!
A team of hirelings that I can command to do my bidding!
At the very least, I need more hours in the day!

The Last Day

Growing up, I never would have thought that teachers look forward to the end of the year as much as the students. Now, after four years of teaching, I begin the end of year countdown the first day of school!!

This year has been rough. With a new principal trying to micro-manage his mark on the place, kids that were nearly impossible to control (and not for lack of trying...they just didn't care about punishment/reward), and a new curriculum that didn't allow for spontaneity or creative projects, this year is one better left in the past.

Now, I look forward to the summer: a trip to New York, Amanda's Wedding, Kyle's Graduation, The 7th Annual Birthday Fiesta O' Fun (Minty Fresh Edition). Lazy days with the girls are in my future: playing in the pool, staying up late and watching movies, getting lost in the book store for hours on end, walking St. George Street sipping on a Groovy Smoothie. Next year is too far away to worry about (although plans are in the works). Days will blend, merge, and ooze until all of a sudden it is August 17th and I have to go back to reality.

Ahh summer...one of the perks that makes teaching tolerable.

In Honor of My Sister’s Birthday

Happy birthday to my big sister. I hope you have a good one. I have written a nice birthday haiku in your honor:

Kicked in the stomach,
I remember you going
Down hill in stretcher.

Or maybe this one is better:

Happy day of birth
I am pleased to be your Sis;
But I’m still favorite.

Hmmm….maybe something with more sentiment:

I love you sister
I hope you have a great day
Eat a lot of cake!

I'm no poet

I am not a poet. I don’t think I’ve ever even claimed to be one, but I love to dabble in the art, especially haiku. I do like to read poetry though and the more bleak and depressing, the better. Yet, in my spring of perpetual idealism, I often find myself longing for a hopeful note, an ending that is not quite so bleak…not quite so soul-sucking sad.

While modern poets find outlet on the net, I tend to look at classic poetry found in hefty volumes and anthologies. Books where Lewis Carroll shares space with John Donne, Elizabeth Barrett Browning mingles with Walt Whitman. Crisp white paper, like fresh albino lettuce crinkles and flutters while I ponder the heavy words of literary giants.

In poetry it is often easier to find an expression of what you are feeling than try to come up with your own words. In poetry the voice of the poet speaks not just to the reader but for the reader, offering solace in expression and joy in thought. Overwhelmed with love? Turn to Shakespeare. Overcome with lust? Robert Herrick readily springs to mind. Concerned with mortality? Christina Rossetti tells it like it is. Question of faith? George Herbert can help you there.

With that in mind I present two of my favorite poems.

The first, “How Did You Die?” by Edmund Vance Cooke is less about death than one might imagine. When ever I feel backed in a corner, trapped by a decision, or faced with major setback, I think of this poem and remember that it isn’t what life throws at you; it is how you handle it that matters.

I first encountered the second poem, “There Will Come Soft Rains” by Sara Teasdale, in a short story of the same name by Ray Bradbury in my 10th grade English class. The poem ought to remind us that we are fallible and our actions will have consequences for us, but the Earth, our only home, will continue far longer than we care to imagine. It is not necessarily a “hopeful” poem, but it leaves in me the sense that there is a possibility for renewal, of starting the cycle all over again.

Enjoy.

How Did You Die?

Did you tackle that trouble that came your way

With a resolute heart and cheerful?

Or hide your face from the light of day

With a craven soul and fearful?

Oh, a trouble's a ton, or a trouble's an ounce,

Or a trouble is what you make it,

And it isn't the fact that you're hurt that counts,

But only how did you take it?

You are beaten to earth? Well, well, what's that?

Come up with a smiling face.

It's nothing against you to fall down flat,

But to lie there -- that's disgrace.

The harder you're thrown, why the higher you bounce;

Be proud of your blackened eye!

It isn't the fact that you're licked that counts,

It's how did you fight -- and why?

And though you be done to the death, what then?

If you battled the best you could,

If you played your part in the world of men,

Why, the Critic will call it good.

Death comes with a crawl, or comes with a pounce,

And whether he's slow or spry,

It isn't the fact that you're dead that counts,

But only how did you die?


There Will Come Soft Rains

There will come soft rains and the smell of the ground,

And swallows circling with their shimmering sound;

And frogs in the pool singing at night,

And wild plum trees in tremulous white;

Robins will wear their feathery fire,

Whistling their whims on a low fence-wire;

And not one will know of the war,

not one Will care at last when it is done.

Not one would mind, neither bird nor tree,

If mankind perished utterly;

And Spring herself when she woke at dawn

Would scarcely know that we were gone.

Boldly Going

I am not a Trekkie. I’m really not. I don’t go to conventions, I have never dressed up like a character and I don’t know the first thing about Klingon grammar theory. I’ve never even seen the complete original series, just random episodes here and there. Same thing with Next Generation, Deep Space Nine and well, I try to pretend that Enterprise doesn’t exist. It is easy to identify with the shows because as with all good (and, well, bad) sci-fi, it isn’t just about the future and technology, it is about teaching us about the human condition, helping us understand ourselves and our world, and most importantly it is about the effects of modern society and where we might “go” if as a people we make the incorrect choice.

Now I will admit that though I have not watched all episodes of Next Generation, it is by far my favorite, simply because 1) Patrick Stewart and 2) Brent Spinner. Picard is all that a Captain should be: bold, decisive, unafraid of making the hard choice. He is rigid in his expectations of his crew but he is also understanding and compassionate. He is defined by his adherence to principles-not just Star Fleet’s, but his own inner moral code of right and wrong. He does what is right because it is right, not because some rulebook told him to. As for Patrick Stewart himself, never have I been enthralled with an actor like I am with him. Maybe it is the accent, or his classical Shakespearean training, or maybe his bald head, but whatever the reason, I just find him pleasant to look at and watch.

Now, Brent Spinner, as far as the actor goes, I’m not really interested. But as Data, his character, I am fascinated. The concept of Data a machine trying to be hum is both endearing and frightening. Seven-of-Nine does the same on Voyager, but Spinner is more believable. His quest is more “human,” more touching, more vulnerable, than a Borg removed from the Collective, because he has more to overcome. He is not built to handle the human condition so when he does finally grasp a concept, like humor, it is all the more poignant and funny; whereas for Seven-of-Nine, her actions and development are more a remembrance. The audience knows she will “find” her humanity because she is human. With Data, although ultimately the audience knows that he will succeed, we have our doubts. However, Data firmly commits to being human in Star Trek Nemesis when he sacrifices himself for Picard.

I do love Voyager, though, don’t get me wrong, I NetFlixed every season about two years ago and made a marathon of each disk. The Doctor really made the show. He, too, searched for humanity, but his quest was more for freedom.

The movies fall into the same categories. I love the Next Generation movies. I wish they would make a Voyager movie. I’ve not watched all of the original movies. Where is this leading up to? The new Star Trek movie.

HOLY MOLY! WOW! Now to clarify, I’m not putting this in the same category as The Dark Night, but WHOA!! This movie was awesome!! The characters were believable. Each of the actors put their own stamp on their character and made them their own. Now, I’m not good at writing movie reviews. I never have been. But in brief I wanted to give some impressions.

Zachary Quinto, amazingly creepy as Syler in Heroes, steels the show as Spock. He was Spock. There was no doubt. In doing some research on the movie, I learned that Leonard Nimoy had casting approval over the Spock character. Quinto made Spock believable, attainable, and understandable. The cold exterior was softened a bit by the added twist of Spock and Uhura’s relationship.

Chris Pine is an equally believable Kirk. I wasn’t sure what to expect at first as I had only ever seen Pine in The Princess Diaries 2: The Royal Engagement. And while he was pleasant to look at, the movie itself was unimpressive. But as Kirk, Pine blew me away. Angsty, drama-ridden and the ultimate bad boy, the movie releases Kirk from his stereotypical captain with a girl in every port, and paints him in a new coat. He is dark, moody, drifting man with a nonchalant attitude toward life. It isn’t until he is approached by a Star Fleet commander who knew his father that he makes a decision to be something.

Overall, this movie was great; better than expected and one that I would gladly go back to see in the theater (and that hasn’t happened since The Dark Night). I was nervous about seeing Star Trek, as many true Trekkies were, not that I’m a Trekkie. What I loved best of this movie? The alternate timeline it has now created whereby the development of other movies and shows may occur without fear of ruining the continuity of the canon series. Time-Space continuum being what it is I wonder if this means we can expect a new Next Generation in the future.

The Snags of Reality

The problem with reality? It keeps butting into my day. I have about four or five posts in the works, but can I ever finish one? Nope! Silly things like work...cooking dinner...sleep keep interrupting my day. If only I could win Powerball, I'd spend hours upon hours followed immediately thereafter by days upon days writing and actually finish something. What I have found though is that I am finally getting back into a routine...it only took nearly 10 months.

In other news, Ashleigh has completed her last project for the 6th grade. Behold the awesomeness that is Little Miss Hula Spud!!

Why was she assigned a project to dress up a potato? I'm not sure I want to know, but she had a blast doing it. I helped by hinting at aesthetics and suggesting the plastic fish bowl that was gathering dust in the attic over an old shoebox. Other than that, it is all Ashleigh. Although you can't see it, the bottom is covered in sand and seashells.

Cyra completed her first year as a Daisy Girl Scout and her troop celebrated by going to Build-A-Bear with their cookie money. Again, as with Ashleigh, I had no input with her choice. So I present for inspection Major Bear:

Major Bear is so camoflauged, I doubt that even he would notice himself!! From his uniform to his boxers to his fur, this bear get a +100 to his hide check!

And that is that...for now at least.

Cheers!

Memories like Monopoly

I wanted to write something about my grandmother. But I’m not sure how to. I’m sure giving enough time I could write something a bit more meaningful, something that captures my memories better.

I know not one single bad person. Everyone has their good and bad days. My father’s mother was a difficult woman: demanding, critical and oft times downright spiteful. Despite that, I will not remember her like that. There is no point to it. It serves no goal or agenda. Instead, I will remember her through a child’s eyes. Childhood memories are faulty and scattered but the images are pure.

Memories like Monopoly

Monopoly, on an old card table in the living room
Owls, tiny collectables, high on a shelf
Scat, playing for pennies round the kitchen table
Skirts, always, I never saw her in anything but
Gardening, fiercely protective of her blueberry bushes

Soap Operas, like clockwork
Bowling on TV, I will never understand
Cucumber Spears, with practically every meal, crisp and fresh
Black Coffee, waking up each morning, Sanka on the counter, black coffee in the mug
Needlework, crochet and cross stitch, hands always busy

Testing the Teacher

The Sixth Crazy!

I’m a pretty easy-going teacher. For all of my complaints, my kids are not criminals and in most cases, not delinquents. I could be in a worse school. And my advanced kids are typically good kids, albeit sassy smart-asses, but good. On Thursday, I had my 5th period advanced class working on an article about Elizabethan England, part of their mini-unit on Shakespeare. Now, Shakespeare is not really in the curriculum for 8th grade, but it is in 9th. My feeling is that if they get a little background knowledge on Shakespeare, they will be better prepared for the full Shakespeare unit in 9th grade.

So, they were reading this article when one of the kids, Z, asks why I am making them read. I say "well, I told you I’m preparing you for next year. And besides, you might see this on my end of quarter final." Well, that prompted a bunch of the kids into this, “You wouldn’t test us” mode. Now, I don’t give many test. Most of my curriculum is about writing so their big grades are writing projects, but an occasional test is not unheard of. Anyway, this conversation quickly degraded into a group of four boys, betting that I wouldn’t give them a test the next day. I said ok, you want a test, you got it. Then they proceeded to up the ante by stating that I wouldn't give them 50 questions. This prompted another to state that 50 would be too easy. In no time they talked themselves into a 150 question test with an essay.

Sound unfair? It was, but I said, okay, you want a test, you got it. They didn’t believe that I would do it, so now I had something to prove. First, don’t mess with me. Second, I keep my word. I was up until about 1 am writing this wicked fill in the blank/short answer test. Unfortunately I did not have enough material to get to 150 questions. I got to 110.

I went in yesterday, made copies and awaited 5th period. They all filed into class. They had heard rumors from their other teachers that I did indeed have a test for them. The first few in asked if I really did have a test. I held up the stack.

“Testing mode,” I told them and obediently they turned their desks from groups to rows and sat down. They took out pens and pencils. They waited.

“Ok guys, here’s the deal: I do not have a 150 question test for you.” My ringleaders smirked. I waited a second. “I was only able to come up with a 110 questions.” Mouths dropped. “I didn’t want to end up just repeating questions, and I was up pretty late so, well, there you go.” I continued the instructions, including the instructions for the essay question.

Eyes got wide. Smirks fell. Hands tentatively went into the air. I called on A.

“What if we don’t finish?”

“Well, I guess that would be a problem for you, huh?” I smiled. “Do the best you can. You may start as soon as you get the test.” I handed out the test and as the kids flipped though the seven pages, they kept glancing at me as if waiting for me to get to the punch line.

When I said nothing more, they heaved a collective sigh and began working. All except Z. When he got his test, he clearly, boldly, loudly (how many more adverbs can I add here?) said, “I’m not doing this,” put his name on it and turned it over and sat there glaring at me as if he were a matador staring down a bull. But a Taurus has nothing on a Leo in terms of stubborness.

Ok, I thought, you want to play hardball…we’ll play. I set the timer for twenty minutes. Meanwhile, all the other students were working as quickly as they could to get as many finished as they could. Twenty minutes went by the only way it could during a test, crawling like a lame animal for shelter for the teacher, and flying by like an supersonic jet for the students.

When the timer went off a number of the kids looked at me horrified. I said, “Ok, for those of you who had the foresight to bring your notebook with you, as you are supposed to do each day, you may take it out and use your notes to complete the test.” Z glared even more. Guess who didn’t have his notebook?

The test continued. Z glared. It was a matter of principle now. Who would break first? Who would prove the point?

Twenty more minutes went by. I called time and collected the tests. After I had all the tests I addressed the kids.

“Now, how many of you think it was unfair for me to test you all when this whole thing was started by Z, D, D, and T?” All hands went into the air including the four troublemakers! I said, “You’re right. It really wasn’t fair; however, I made my point, right?” Heads nodded. “Good. Now, for those of you who attempted this test, even though it was unfair, for each correct answer you will receive extra credit on your end of quarter exam.” Smiles, except for one. “Now, I’m going to grade these, record your points and give them back for you to correct and use for a study guide for the end of quarter final. And if you turn this back in, corrected, on the day of the final you will receive additional points.”

The bell rang and students looked at me to dismiss them. I let them go, reminding them about the second part to their test to be completed at home and turned in on Monday: a brief summary of one of Shakespeare’s plays.

Later on, while I was outside with my 3rd period class doing art fest stuff, Z came up to me and apologized for "being a jerk." His words, not mine.

Exeunt stage left, pursued by homework.

a CrAzY wEeK

To say things at work are crazy would be far beyond an understatement. While the end of the year is always a bit stressful, more so than the beginning of the year, for some reason there is always one week in May that is psycho crazy!

First – This week was the 4th Annual Art Festival. Our art teacher, Mrs. C, works tirelessly all year round to raise money, plan and execute this week. She invites all sorts of artists, musicians, story tellers, and bands to come to our school and spend time talking about, demonstrating, and performing for our students. It is an awesome activity for the kids…if they would appreciate it. Unfortunately, the type of students I have…middle schoolers…are disrespectful, rude, obnoxious and downright nasty. And really this has nothing to do with race, gender or culture. It is all about the age! Middle schoolers are jerks. And truly as much as I love the art fest, I think it would serve better to do it for an elementary school. Little kids might not be able to sit still, but from what I’ve seen they show a lot more respect at assemblies than older kids.

So during this week, the teachers sign their classes up to go see and do different activities. The last two years it has been very easy to make sure that each class got to go to at least one thing because we were on teams and no one class or group of students went to the same thing over and over. My team last year had worked out a schedule to a perfect harmonious flow. This year because administration did away with the team concept, I had many classes I brought to events that whined they’d already been to that particular event three times already. And therefore, they took it upon themselves to act like the little jerks they are. And amazingly, it was my advance kids who were the worst! One of my worst classes, so grateful to not have to work, behaved so well I gave them extra credit!

So that was going one every day last week.

Second – Scott’s car is on its last wheel. So Scott and I have been talking about trying to figure out a way to acquire a new car. Carjacking and Grand Theft Auto aside, we don’t have much in way ability. We just got our tax refund which I was planning on using for my trip to New York, but we could use it for a down payment. Scott thinks the car will last for the summer, but the fact that the underneath is trying to escape containment and he has to disconnect the battery when he parks, makes it hard to justify keeping this old red death trap.

Ok…so that isn’t really crazy as much as frustrating.

Third – Scott has long claimed there is some sort of mystical energy transfer between the two of us. When he is exhausted, I am wide awake; the few times that I am tired and in bed before 9 or 10, he is wide awake and unable to sleep. This week, that has happened two times. So twice this week, I have been in bed before 9 – 10 (when I normally am writing) and thus have not done much writing this week. So my schedule has been thrown for a serious loop this week. Weird!!

Fourth – Administration!! Once again, our principal has seen fit to redo the class assignments and arrangements for next year. Now I am not going to complain about this because I got back on the team I was on originally and that’s where I wanted to be. I will however, once again state that the man is trying to put his mark on the school and in my opinion the reason he split us up in the first place was because we are a really strong team and he is trying to conquer and divide. So during the week, he has been coming to us, talking about placement and blah blah blah while subtly still insinuating that it was the teacher’s fault FCAT scores weren’t as good as they should have been.

Meanwhile, in the 8th grade hall we’ve been holding these contests for the students. Every 15 days, whichever students have remained referral free get a reward. The first one was a field-day type event that was poorly planned and executed because the admin didn’t really communicate with us what she wanted u s to do. Ok. It happens. The kids had fun anyway. The second one was this week. During the art fest when the kids were already crazy. Once again, poorly planned. We weren’t told what was going on until Wednesday. We didn’t get to give any input. Ok. She’s the admin. Tell us what you need us to do. Nothing.

The plan was to watch a movie in the cafeteria. Now, it was a Bolt, which is Disney, but rated PG so the kids needed a permission slip. Those didn’t get handed out until Thursday last period, in the breezeway by the admin. So once again the teachers didn’t know who was allowed to go. Well, on Friday morning, kids who hadn’t gotten a permission slip asked to call home for verbal permission. I spent all morning on the phone with parents getting permission. When I went to lunch, I was told that I should have turned in that list by noon. And that she had clearly given me those instructions. Uh, nope, but ok, I’ve got a list even though it is one, and I turned it in.

Then, later on coming out of the hall for planning, I bore the brunt of the admin’s anger as she scolded that “all [she] wants is the teachers to cooperate. Is that really too much to ask? [She] clearly gave instructions to all teachers to turn in verbal permission by noon and now [she] had all these kids who claimed that had verbal permission running around trying to get into the movie” and on and on. Now, I am a team player. They ask me to do something, I do it, I might complain later about it, but I do it, no questions asked. So for the admin to claim that I refused to do what she asked in and of itself aggravating and insulting. But for the admin to then claim that I was giving instructions that I was not is ridiculous. In fact, another teacher had handed permission slips (verbal and non) directly to the admin who later sent in a student for the information that was already in hand!!

So that was super fun!!

Fifth - Never in all my great many years of teaching (four, for those who don't know) has a student ever cursed at me or called me a name to my face. I'm sure I get called all manner of things outside of class. This week, I had a group of students not return with me to class after an art fest activity. When they showed up about 5-8 minutes after everyone else, I stood at the door to write their names down to mark as tardy/skipping. One of them, a nice, quiet, sweet straight A student tried to explain why she was late. I calmly said that I didn't want an excuse, and to please go in and sit down. As she walk in she very loudly call me a "bitch" and sat down. I was speechless. Agast. Stunned. I said "What did you just say?" The class was silent all staring at me and back at her. She just glared at me over her shoulder. "Out," I said pointing at the door. I walked her across the hall to another teacher and said I did not want her back. I wrote her up and sent it up to the office. Later on I found out her punishment: one day suspension and her mom told her that she would not be going on the end of the year trip. Ouch! I felt bad about that, but I hope the message was driven home. It is one thing to grumble under your breath and think things, but quiet another to let stuff out without thinking about consequences.

The sixth and last crazy, deserves its own post. Tune in for part two in about 30 seconds.

Quiet Monday

Today was just a quiet day. The bug that caught Ashleigh last week finally settled in on Cyra and we stayed home today. So what did I do?

1. cuddled
2. played Neverwinter Nights (a new addiction that I totally blame on Scott)
3. played Sims
4. played Neverwinter Nights because there isn't any blood and gore in Sims
5. laundry
6. smiled when after telling Cyra to take a nap and she insisted she wasn't tired she passed out for most of the afternoon
7. played Neverwinter Nights
8. cleaned the kitchen
9. played Neverwinter Nights
10. cooked an awesome dinner - cheddar ranch burgers with ceaser salad and mac and cheese
11. played Neverwinter Nights
12. cuddled
13. more laundry
14. played Neverwinter Nights
15. more cleaning of the kitchen
16. blogged
17. cuddled

So, a highly productive day in my honest opinion! And a very nice end to a now five-day weekend! I'm back to work tomorrow before my boss freaks out on me and little Cyra, if she is still yicky (which I don't doubt she will be) will hand out with Mom.

It's A Brand New Game

If it is a brand new game, why do I feel like I’ve been here before? Is it that gamers fall into the same categories and types regardless? Will there always be a rules lawyer? A goofy geek that fondles the minis? An obnoxious loudmouth that always has to tell a story about what this one character did in a game unrelated to the current one? A self absorbed narcissus whose character is single minded in their own purpose to the determent of the group? A DM who takes far too much delight in our character’s deaths? It isn’t so much the stereotypes that are throwing me for a loop, but the memories they dredge up.

Now, I’ll admit, I’m sure I also fall into a category. But for right now, I am quiet at the gaming table, almost unbelievably so. I watch the others, see how they interact, and merge, while I am trying partly deliberately and partly subconsciously, to keep my distance.

Without diminishing what Sara went through (and honestly, I have no idea how she managed to be so calm through it all, I’m still seething about it for her and for me) I’m still really upset about how my last group fell apart. As much as I disliked D I didn’t like “firing” him, and I really miss J. She was fun to hang out with, witty, amusing and an all around nice person. But when D went, J went too. It was a choice between Z and C who really merged well with us and D, who just drove us crazy with his self-absorbed rules-lawyering.

I can’t hold a grudge against Z and C. I mean they had job opportunities that were just too good to pass up and from what I hear they are doing well in Cali! I miss them a ridiculous amount! Both are good guys and I hope that they have found groups that appreciate them as much as I did and that play to their strengths.

And then there was E. Out of all the old group, never would I have pegged E for being a dickweed. It was bad enough what he did to Sara. For that alone, I wish him ill. His actions though affected not just Sara, but my whole family as well. We were all close with him, spending time with him away from the gaming table, hanging out late into the night, going out as a group. Cyra especially loved the man. God, she spent time crying over him when he was on deployment, not just because she missed him, but because she kept having nightmares that something happened to his ship or that he fell overboard and was eaten by sharks!

And then there is Sara. What can I say about her that isn’t obvious? My first grown-up BFF (how childish does that sound?). I don’t blame her for high-tailing it out of here. In fact, I am more than a little envious of her opportunities to travel and explore the world. I took her departure harder than I thought I would. But 13 time zones are piddle-squat when it comes to friendship! And before I start mushing and gushing, I’ll leave it at that.

So, when it came time to regroup, to find a new set of gamers I found myself very hesitant. I didn’t want to invite people into my home and get close, be friendly, get hurt. What finally convinced me was Scott. He has been dying to play Pathfinder and he kept checking the message boards looking for a group in town. When he found a message that looked promising, he immediately drew my attention to it and all but begged and pleaded with puppy eyes (not that that works) to see if we could set something up.

I capitulated and emailed and then met part of the group at the bookstore to see if we’d be compatible. Much to my dismay, I hit it off with them. They are nice guys, so far that I’ve seen. They can only game two or three times a month and only on Sunday afternoons which works out really well for Scott and I. And, yes, they fall into stereotypes and after two gaming sessions it is hard not to make comparisons.

S reminds me a great deal of E. Goofy, playful, geeky. I know I’ll get along famously with him.

E reminds me of C. A rules lawyer who doesn’t work the rules so much as reminds the DM as needed, or looks up a stat for the DM as requested.

The DM reminds me of Sara. He is a great storyteller and weaves us into the fabric of the story. Unlike Sara, he uses the critical hit deck-OUCH!! And he takes gleeful delight in pulling out those cards!

C reminds me a great deal of D. He always wants to talk about what he once did in a different campaign. He is loud and boisterous, which could be taken either way, good or bad.

J reminds me of the very first Jess we had at our table in the apartment. Self-absorbed, her character is conniving and won’t engage in battle unless forced. She is also single-minded in her own personal side quest.

So where does this leave me? I’m friendly; it is hard for me not to be friendly. It is easy for me to keep my distance since we only meet every other week or so, and because we have such a short time to game, we are all focused on the game as soon as everyone gets here. I’m not entertaining as I once did. It is a strict BYO: if I don’t feed them, I don’t adopt them. And in an unfortunate side effect from our last group, I am a bit fearful.

I am a loyal friend, fierce and devoted, once I have given friendship; it takes a lot to break it. It is the Leo in me, I think, and really, I’m not sure I willing or able to hand over friendship as I once did. And that, I think is what kills me the most. I am friendly and outgoing by nature, and right now, it is taking all I’ve got to not be.

"I've Got a Miniture Secret Camera"

One of the reasons why I love my husband’s job: bonuses!! Now unfortunately the bonuses are not given as cash which, seriously, I could totally use right now. Instead, his company gives gift cards. Now, we get to select which stores the gift cards are for, and most of the time, we opt for Best Buy, Borders or Sears. This time around I went for Best Buy. And hoo boy! I’m glad I did!

I’ve been toying with the idea of a new digital camera, nothing big and flashy, but an upgrade from my 6 megapixel, hesitating camera. After spending some time playing with cameras in Target, Sears, and Best Buy I knew I was leaning towards the Samsung SL620. So when I went in to Best Buy yesterday, I once again looked at and played with all the cameras at least once as I walked around.

Again, I kept coming back to the SL620. Product information that really I have no clue as to what it all means: 12 megapixels, 5x optical zoom, 3.0" intelligent LCD, Dual image stabilization, Smart Auto, Perfect Portrait System, Frame Guide. It was in my price range, shiny red and didn’t have that hesitation when snapping a picture.

It was quite amusing while I was in the store fiddling with the cameras: every few minutes a sales geek...uh…man…boy…would come up to me asking if I needed help. I said, “Not right now, I’m still just looking.” For twenty minutes I was stalked by the lurking blue shirts. The second I decided that, yup, the SL620 was for me, the guys disappeared. I mean it wasn’t even a case that they were helping someone else, or in another aisle. They were just gone! I spent another ten minutes hunting down someone to get the darn camera and ask a few questions about it.

And granted just because I had the gift cards, didn’t mean I wasn’t looking for a deal. In fact, Best Buy was having a sale on cameras, so really I couldn’t have planned it any better. I picked out a new camera case, an upgraded memory card, and the fourth season of Stargate: Atlantis for Scott and Ashleigh, and left with almost half of one gift card unused.

So here are the first pictures I took with my new camera.

Mother's Day Brunch

It is not often that I have the chance to go to my daughters’ school activities. So when the opportunity arose that I was home with Ashleigh and there was a Mother’s Day Brunch in Cyra’s class, I jumped at the chance. Mom had originally been slated to go in my place, so instead, Mom stayed with Ashleigh and I was able to go to school.

Sara often says that Cyra is terminally cute, meaning her cuteness is apparently fatal to others. I wouldn't know, of course, becuase I have survived 7+ years of it. But it should be obvious then that Cyra plus 30 other pretty cute kids is 30 times more fatal. We moms were entertained to tears; thirty six-year-olds singing an updated “Wheels on the Bus” and reciting a poem about how hard moms work. Cyra was a ballerina on the bus who twirled around…I can’t help feeling that this would be a dangerous activity to participate in; especially if one is a ballerina; especially on a moving vehicle. In any case, it was adorable. I have pictures of her twirling and singing, but as other children, who don't belong to me, were also in the photos, I will not post them here.

Throw in a PowerPoint, set to highly emo music, with then and now photos and it is no wonder Cyra’s teachers made sure there were tissues at every table. The kids took great delight in pointing out each child in the classroom as their picture came on the screen.

Each mom was presented with a card with one of the songs that they sang printed inside, as well as a little matchbox painted silver with the child’s school picture glued on the inside.

We also got a poem about little handprints and a yellow towel with a “dirty” handprint on it.

The kids served the moms a plate with a mini bagel, mini muffin, mini donut and a scoop of fruit. They served drinks, cleaned up afterwards, thanked us for coming and ushered us out the door. Apparently, they were eager for their lunch which they wouldn't get until after we left!

At the end of the day, when I picked Cyra up, I received the following pictures that Cyra had made in class.

Where the day leads...

I spent the day home with a sick Ashleigh. I had grand plans…laundry, dishes, vacuuming. But in the grand scheme of things, I ended up spending most of the day working on lesson plans and researching Twilight Zone episodes for my Drama unit. Interestingly, that led me to research gremlins which led me to reflect upon modern technology, specifically when modern technology fails, which in turn got me thinking about how we would deal with a sudden absence of all technology.

All those people running around without their cell phones and their apps; mobile blogging and twittering. How would be people who are used to being in contact 24/7 handle the void? Obviously there have been stories about this before. I think I’d like to try my hand at it too. I’ve always had a fondness for end-of-the-world stories and one without technology is one that interests me greatly.

I’d like to imagine that I’d be a-okay without my geeky gadgets, but I think I’d miss my computer…my stove…ohh…my AC. Do appliances count as geeky gadgets? I can do without a cell phone. I have one but don’t use it all that much. I could do without my MP3 Player. I’ve been without before, so I think that while I’d miss it, I could deal. The more I think about this the more I think I’d like to read one of those “living off the land for a year with no modern technology” books.

Needless to say, the dishes are still taking over the kitchen, the laundry is still piled up like unpaid bills and the dust bunnies, without fear of the vacuum, have left the security of the dark underworld beneath the couch and are blatantly mingling with the dog and cat hair balls.

Other than that I really don’t have much to say today. So I will leave you this thought:

"We all live in suspense, from day to day, from hour to hour; in other words, we are the hero of our own story." — Mary McCarthy, American author (1912-1989).

Going to School

I miss school. More specifically, I miss going to school to learn, not to teach. I’ve been on both sides of the desk, and I have realized that I am a better student than I am a teacher.

When I graduated from college in ’04, I was ready to go, but I regretted not being able to complete my plans of duel major in English and Religion&Philosophy. How was I to know that there was such a thing as “lifetime student loan limit?” Really?? Why limit my ability to learn when I am obligated to pay back my loan? How much money could the government have made off of my student loan interest if they kept lending me money? I could have single-handedly saved us from the economic recession! I could have been a hero!

Over the past few months I’ve been toying with the idea of going to grad school. I always planned to continue with my education, but money was always an issue. Guess what? Money is still an issue. Scott says we can figure out something if I really want to go. I suppose if I budget even more and oh I don’t know, cut out food, I might be able to afford a class each summer. It is a nice dream that I’d like to see realized sooner rather than later, but I am willing to bide my time.

I longingly perused university websites tonight looking at requirements for grad students and overall, I could easily qualify for a number of schools around me. I would love to get my Masters. Even better, I’d love to get my Masters in English and complete my Bachelors in Religion&Philosophy.

My colleagues urge me to go to the University of Phoenix to get a Masters in education. I keep telling them that I don’t want to be in education my entire life. I’ve got plans beyond where I am.

I dream big. My plans are always complicated and intricate. I know there is a way for me to return to school. Now I just have to research. Maybe I’ll find a grant for broke English teachers who work at ghetto schools and have way too many bills but are really adorable, smart and deserving!

Holiday Rant

I love holidays! If it was up to me (and I had the money) I’d be celebrating something everyday! I’d throw a dinner party with food that was traditional to that holiday. My problem comes from the news…they way they pick and choose what holidays to recognize as important. So, if we make a big deal about this:

Cinco Day Mayo – celebrates the Mexican Army’s defeat of the French Army in 1862

Why not these?

Bastille Day – July 14 a celebration of the Storming of the Bastille, a prison fortress in Paris.

Yom Kippur – Jewish Day of Atonement, 25 hours of prayer and fasting revolving around atonement for sins committed in the prior year.

Greek Independence - Day March 25 – celebrates Greece’s independence from Turkey.

Blessed Rainy Day – the Buddhist celebration of the end of the monsoon season which involves bathing outdoors and washing away bad deeds, obstructions and defilements (which as a side note sounds amazingly similar to a certain End of Hurricane Season celebration but without the bath).

Karthikai Deepam – an Hindu festival of lights that celebrates an astrological alignment between the full moon of November/December and the constellation Karthigai (Pleiades).

Swedish National Day – June 6th – this started as the Day of the Swedish Flag, around 1900, and it also commemorates the election of Gustav Vasa as King of Sweden on this date in 1523.

Ramadan – is an Islamic religious observance that takes place during the ninth month of the Islamic calendar; the month in which the Qur'an was revealed to the Prophet Muhammad. It is a month of fasting, in which participating Muslims do not eat or drink anything from true dawn until sunset. Meant to teach the person patience, sacrifice and humility Ramaḍān is a time to fast for the sake of Allah, and to offer more prayer than usual. Much like Yom Kippur (although more drawn out) Muslims ask forgiveness for past sins, pray for guidance and help in refraining from everyday evils, and try to purify themselves through self-restraint and good deeds.

International Day of Peace – September 21 – Peace, or specifically the absence of war, such as might be occasioned by a temporary ceasefire in a combat zone. If we celebrated this every day, what a world it would be!

Ninja Day – December 5 – Started by the Ninja Burger guys, this correlates to a long standing argument between Ninja fans and Pirate fans and can now be viewed as a counterpoint to…

International Talk Like a Pirate Day – September 19 – Ahoy and climb on board for mayhem, looting and pillaging.

Pi Day – 3/14 celebrates one of the universe’s more amazing numbers and by happenstance is also Albert Einstein’s birthday. And just think of all the pie you could justify eating!

Towel Day – May 25 – a celebration of Douglas Adams – on this day make sure you know where your towel is.


Now for a tangent side note and the “ranty” part of my post…

America is a melting pot. Indeed, The Great American Melting Pot is one of my favorites from School House Rock, and one thing that I think we all need to remember is that everyday is a holiday somewhere and paying more attention (news coverage wise) is both insulting and demeaning to people. America is the sum of its parts, is not Christian, Jewish or Muslim. It is not black, white, European or Asian. It is not one thing that makes us American; it is all things about all our people that make us great. Being able to respect and celebrate with friends who may not share our beliefs is amazing and often times a humbling experience.

While I do not profess a belief in any one particular religion, it is interesting to note that all religions seem to hold dear the same motifs and themes but those entrenched and indoctrinated in their religion don’t seem to notice. Then they get mad when the similarities are pointed out. Ironic? Indeed! We (please note, the “we” implies “me” too) spend far too much time looking for differences; looking to categorize “us” and “them,” we forget that at the core, we are all human and have all of the same needs. Atonement, is after all, the same regardless of when, how and why you atone. So really, does it matter what label you slap on a religion?

(Sites cited….Wikipedia)

With Apologies

Nearly nine years ago I moved from New York to Florida dragging along with me and my daughter, my BFF Manda. That first summer in Florida in our little brick house we turned an ugly little coffee table into a fantastical art piece: Bright yellow, with purple legs and astrological chunky stamps on the top. Around each side ran star related quotes from Shakespeare. And underneath, we each signed our initials: HLM, ARN and AWW.

That little yellow table became a symbol of freedom, independence and our irrepressible natures. For the past eight years and ten months, that yellow table has held a prominent place in each house that I’ve called home. Living in my current neighborhood is an older woman who has “adopted” me for all intents and purposes and every time she cleans house, I get new furniture. Her recent spring cleaning brought me three tall media towers. Each one about four to four and half feet, two feet square, with frosted glass shelves and pitch black.

Fortunately these towers came at a time when our old media center was falling apart. After Scott gleefully and with such unadulterated pleasure destroyed the old entertainment center (I really should have taken pictures of that) I set the new towers up with the idea of using the yellow table to put the TV on. The height and length are perfect to fit between the two shelves. When I set it up it was exactly what I needed and the best part? I didn’t need to spend money on a new table. Needless to say, so I’ll say it anyway, it looked silly and rather misplaced.

And so for the sake of continuity and the fact that our little yellow table was looking pretty beat up, I bought some paint. Standing in front of the rows of spray paint in Home Depot, I was overcome with such melancholy and sadness. With tears in my eyes, I choose a nice premium primer and black semi gloss. The salesman who earlier stopped to ask if I needed any help kept glancing at me with concern from the paint mixing station. I grabbed some sandpaper and a drop cloth and left before I truly started crying. Who would have thought painting a table would be so emotional?

And so, Dear Manda, with apologies, our yellow table in no more. It is now pitch black and shiny. I think that we both knew this day might come but I left our signatures on the bottom. And though I still have a dorm-room feel throughout my house it now fits in with some of my other furniture.

Derby Part Two

Isn't it always the case? The one year that I don't pick a longshot is the year that a longshot triumphs! Good for Mine That Bird! Too bad I didn't pick him. Of course, even if I hadn't picked Dunkirk, my second favorite was Chocolate Candy ridden by Mike Smith, and he came in 18th! Ouch!! Maybe I ought to listen to Sara and base my choice not on how pretty a horse looks, but on pedigree and previous race stats.

Regardless of the loss, we still had fun. Dinner was delicious! Hot browns, corn pudding, and A Run for the Roses pie. Yum!! It was my first year making everything alone, and I think it turned out quite well.

The girls and I painted our horses and this year we thought to add their names on the back so we could remember who was who.

Next year, we plan on new Derby hats and maybe we'll have the time, money and desire to host a bigger party than just Mom and Sis (who wasn't really here, but we spent the entire time on Skype with her).

Kentucky Derby

Part One:

Just so we clear, because I don't retcon...My favorite to win the Derby is Dunkirk. Ashleigh is pulling for Flying Private. Cyra is going for Friesan Fire. Mom likes Mr. Hot Stuff and Big Sis is opting for Join in the Dance.

The winnings is a bag of old-time candy...to be shared of course.

The Run for the Roses pie has been made, I am working on the corn pudding and onto the hot browns. It feels weird without Sara here and she can't even join us through Skype. But we've forged a tradition and it would be even sadder to not continue with it.

More to come later!

First of May

May Day Resolutions

New Year’s resolutions are so yesterday! Instead, I’m going to try May Day resolutions.

1. I am going to post to my blog everyday in May.
2. I am going to write 1500 words everyday, words, I declare, that are unrelated to my blog.
3. I will truly begin stockpiling supplies for anything that might come up. Zombies, Nibiru, Yellowstone…
4. I am going to reestablish my good habits.
5. I will not let the laundry get that high ever again. It is unreasonable!
6. I will craft more!! I have so many scrapbook supplies it is ridiculous!!
7. I will care more about the house and try to take a more active role in fixing what is broken.
8. I will try a new recipe at least once a week. This one shouldn’t be too hard especially with all the cookbooks I’ve got around here.
9. I will remember that Junie is just a dog and she really does not do things deliberately to piss me off.
10. Everyday I will say something nice to someone I don’t really like.
11. I will try not to hold grudges. I tend not to, but there are a few…
12. I don’t know how I’ll do this, but I will try to not be so idealistic since it leads to disappointment.
13. I will train diligently with my weapon of choice.
14. I will think before I speak, especially when I am mad.
15. I will remember that while the internet is a quick and easy way to keep in touch, nothing beats getting an old fashioned letter in the mail.
16. I will back up my hard drive every week! And while I’m doing that I’ll cheerfully hum, “Never Again!”
17. I will not stress over my job. I know that I do what I can and numbers be damned!
18. I will remember that life is fluid and malleable. I will not be rigid in my expectations nor will I berate myself for trying but not succeeding.
19. I will have more fun!
20. In the words of my favorite D&D character (and Chumbawumba) if I get knocked down, I’ll get up again, you’ll never gonna keep me down!

The Cons of Naps

Most people who know me will not be surprised when I say I’ve got a temper. It is slow to boil (90% of the time) but when it rages it is quite out of control. Therefore, I have learned that when I know I’m mad about something and know that I will not be able to rein in my mouth before thinking, I should just be alone. When possible, I do make every attempt to isolate myself away from my family so I don’t wig out at them for something that they have nothing to do with.

So it was with no surprise, that today after a particularly pissy day with 8th graders, a pissy day trying to get ready for a District Visit and an equally pissy Early-Release training where instead of training, or at the very least something useful, we listened to a sales pitch for $500 stainless steel cookware and then got berated for not doing our jobs, for not caring about the students, for not being dedicated enough, for not…

Deep breath.

Anyway, I came home and went straight to bed. I wasn’t particularly tired, but with tears welling in my eyes as I drove home, I knew that there was no way I could handle dealing with people. I heard Scott come in and check on me a few times, I was aware of dinner; the spicy aroma of turkey tacos drifted into my room arousing me for a brief moment, but I ignored it as best I could and drifted myself on a lazy wave of near consciousness. My stomach grumbled and growled while I eased in and out of odd half dreams that could have been real except for the maniacally grinning drama mask that hovered in each scene.

Subliminal reflections on what I deal with each day? I wouldn’t be surprised.

I finally got out of bed at about 9:30, hungry, disoriented and still grouchy, although not as angry as before. Scott had cleaned the kitchen, done piles of laundry and was watching Mythbusters. I stumbled into the kitchen looking for food and found just enough taco meat for a single taco. Scott asked me if I was okay and I told him briefly about what happened. I ate my taco while cruising the net, and was entertained by Zach and Facebook pirate English. After Mythbusters, Scott went to bed, telling me not to stay up all night.

So where does this leave me? After my four and a half hour nap, I am still wide awake at 1:30, the night-morning before a major district visit and am now flipping between cheesy romance movies on USA and MonsterQuest on History because there is nothing else on. And because I am especially adept at multitasking – you know, doing a half hearted job at a multitude of things, never finishing one thing and then wondering why nothing gets done properly, I am browsing the internet for news on the Swine Flu and reading a book.

On the plus side? I managed to not freak out at my kids and didn’t explode at Scott for anything.

Idiocracy

I recently watched the movie, Idiocracy. Although it has been out for a few years, I was blissfully unaware of its existence, coasting along in my bubble of ignorance. I was, until a co-worker highly recommended it, saying, “It was a movie that I would truly get.”

And, oh my, did I get it! I get that the future is bleak. I already knew that. From my unlikely and unreasonable fear of Zombies – you know the brain eating ones – I now fear Zombies of another kind: The kind that I am attempting to educate each day. Slated as a comedy, I spent most of the movie terrified!

The premise of this Luke Wilson movie is that an average “Joe” (and his name was indeed Joe) was selected along with a hooker to participate in an Army cryogenics experiment. Needless to say, the experiment floundered and Joe and the hooker woke up 500 years later to a dumbed-down world where with their average intelligence they were now the smartest people in the garbage overrun world!

The movie had a few amusing parts…like the…umm…well I know I snickered a couple times…but behind the, for lack of a better word, Idiocracy, it smacked of truth that many people would just as soon ignore.

Take for instance the ability to read. 500 years from now Idiocracy shows that people are illiterate “white trash” (regardless of actual skin tone) who use pictures to identify everything. For example, in an early scene, Joe is trying to get medical attention shortly after he wakes up in the future. At triage, the nurse mindless stares into space while Joe describes his symptoms, her finger hesitating over each picture depicting a symptom, until she finally decides to just press the question mark button.

Another horrid truth the movie depicts: smart people don’t procreate enough. They put it off until they are stable and able to care for a child. While on the opposite spectrum, intelligence-challenged people over-create, breeding as if they need to colonize their own planet.

All in all, while I try to be optimistic and idealistic, reality keeps a large hammer hovering over my head waiting for the right opportunity to drop. For a long time I have believed in and preached mandatory sterilization (or at the very least some form of birth control ala Gate to Women’s Country, seriously one of the best books out there) of all children at the onset of puberty. Then, after college or some form of job training, there should be a test to see who gets to procreate. It, of course, should be based on a number of things, intelligence among the top things tested for.

Of course I know those who’d object (Vive le Resistance!) but it would be practical to cut out unwanted teen pregnancies. And maybe if someone would take the Vice-Dictatorship, I might reconsider the whole testing thing.