I'm a chief!

Every question made me feel like I was a judgmental asshole.

candy devotion

Halloween, freshman year of college, was about the seventh time I trick-or-treated in my life. When it was finally acceptable and cool to dress up as a big ol' slut, my dormmates and I did the opposite. We went as dead people. Haley was a cheerleader with blood smeared all over her cheeks, Soren wore a wet suit and grayish face paint, and I was the chick from Pulp Fiction, but dead. Ten of us went out together with various "gashes" and "pallid skin" ailments. There was not a single midriff or boob in sight.

How do college students compete with small children while retaining their dignity, you ask? At each doorstep, we performed a song and dance. Literally. We fully choreographed a "dead" version to the Top Gun hit, "You've Lost that Loving Feeling." It went like this:

We've lost that living feeling
Whoa-oh, that living feeling
We've lost that living feeling
Now we're dead, dead, dead, whoa-oh-oh
(badum, badum, badum)
I'm down on my knees
Won't you give us some candy Pleeeeeeease...

The song ended here with us all on bended knee holding our bags out in front of us like true beggars. We made a killing.

hell, literally

Today, one of my students threw up inside the classroom, and I'm proud to say that I handled it with grace and authority. Of course, that's only because I've rehearsed that exact scenario in my head a million times. I'm vomit-crazy, don't you remember?

I delegated a student to bring over a trashcan, delegated another to walk the sicko to the nurse, and commanded the rest to take their books to the carpet, on the other side of the classroom. I dialed maintenance with nary a glance at the mess. I further delegated more students to move the fan from the contaminated side of the classroom to the carpet by the door and aimed it to blow hot, smoky air onto us. (Hot, smoky air is preferable to smelly, throw up air.) I commenced reading comprehension lessons. This all in under sixty seconds.

THEN, after the floor was bleached and my hands Purelled, the temperature rose to eighty-four degrees. Our air-conditioning doesn't work! Ha! Plus! The special-ed student who joins our class for language arts was, for some reason, dropped off during math! He hits!

Oh, I forgot to tell you that today was Picture Day. In the middle of math, we were called to the auditorium to stand in a long line. Several students were pushed and/or pinched, and Extra Student was forcibly returned to his classroom. The highlight of Picture Day was that the auditorium was blessedly air-conditioned.

Post-lunch, all doors were shut to keep out the smoke. The temperature inside climbed to eighty-four degrees, and so I turned off the lights. The nurse sent two more kids home. I let my students color for an hour in the dark. I lay my head on a table and almost fell asleep.

I can't wait for tomorrow!

small plates at BTSA

Not the most healthy dinner.

firestorm!

One of my students has told me several times today that since God promised Noah the world would not be destroyed by water again, it will instead be destroyed by fire.

She goes to Bible Camp, obviously.

This here is smoke obscuring the sunrise on my morning commute.

totally unsollicited letter to me

Dear Ms. *,

thank you for Doing A good Jod teaching Me. Sometime you could Be goofey But I Respet that so I just wont to say that good Jod Ms. * your A nice 3rd grader teacher. to me and I will always promise to get in line and Do my Math write and also stop talking and I keep My promise.

from Kayla

n.p.h.

they're green, it's true

So it's Red Ribbon Week, which means we dress up all funny and make posters about not doing drugs. Look at me, I'm drug free! Drug free is the way to be! We're too good for drugs! Don't smoke, you will die!

Anyways, after a short conversation about slogans we could put on our posters, I branched out into the arena of What Exactly is a Drug. We brainstormed cigarette smoking, taking drug pills, alcohol . . . One girl chirps up, "My mom has this green stuff that she keeps in a little bowl," and she is making the shape of a pipe with her hands. I'm a little curious how much she is going to tell me, so I don't say anything, just wait for her to come up with the words.

The boy next to her asks, "Lima beans?," bless his heart, while another shouts out, "Weed!" from across the room.

the weekend in numbers

FOUR GIRLS, THREE NIGHTS, TWO DAYS.

SEVEN boys flirted with us at karaoke bar. These included Adam, the yoga instructor with thick black glasses, Diamante whose name should be Diablo, Rob from Wisconson, and Andy who had a dinosaur on his shirt.

THREE boys received phone numbers. Only one called today, inviting us to come watch the baseball game. None of us are into baseball.

TWO of those numbers were mine. ONE given to the fuck-buddy of an ex-friend. The other given to an investment banker named Brad, because he knew all the lyrics to Lauryn Hill's Doo Wop.

ZERO songs sung by anyone in my party. I did sign up for Jackson 5's I Want You Back, and Andy promised to be my backup singer/dancer, but last call was at one thirty and that song list was just too damn long.

FOUR alcoholic beverages consumed by yours truly.
ZERO said beverages purchased by me.

FIFTEEN conversations about genitalia. We firmly established that girls don't like anything in their ass, and if you're that nervous about giving a rectal exam, you're probably gay. Also: periods. Girls love to talk about periods.

FIVE episodes of Brothers & Sisters.
FOUR references to Britney Spears.
THREE naps.
TWO divorces.
ONE case of mono.

things I mistook for a live animal this past week:

1. The crinkling of a CD wrapper in the trash can.
2. The crinkling of a grocery bag in my purse.
3. The shadow cast by a neighbor walking past my living room.
4. The kitchen faucet dripping into a pot.
5. Light reflected off of my computer, cast against the wall.
6. Water boiling on the stove.
7. My stereo, from the other room.
8. The wind rustling a shrub near the front gate of my apartment.
9. One of my students, hugging me from behind.

three hours ahead!

Well, really, it's because I'm on New York time, that's why I go to bed at eight thirty.




(Does that sound believable at all?)

it's evolution, baby

A study conducted by UCLA's Department of Psychiatry has revealed that the kind of face a woman finds attractive on a man can differ depending on where she is in her menstrual cycle. For example:

If she is ovulating, she is attracted to men with rugged and masculine features. However, if she is menstruating or menopausal, she tends to be more attracted to a man with duct tape over his mouth and a spear lodged in his forehead while he is on fire.

No further studies are expected.

september twenty-first

When we walked outside for dismissal today, it had become overcast and there was an eerie feeling to the air. It was quite windy. Everyone on the yard was staring up at the sky, shielding their faces from things blowing around. A giant blimp was flying overhead! Quite surreal. Blimps are at once both antiquated and futuristic. Like seeing a really old-fashioned UFO.

There was some awesome cloudage on my way home from work. The sky was very dark and the clouds were giant puffs of gray with white highlights. Along the 110 between Florence and Gage there are rows and rows of palm trees, their green heads all sticking up bright against the stormy background.

As soon as we returned home from Kol Nidre services, the heavens opened and torrential rain poured down. So kind that God waited for recess to be through. So fitting for the day of repentance.

All in all, a stellar day for the sky.

you just hang it on the rearview

who is . . . a dork?

I'm still kind of obsessed with Jeopardy Kid's Week. Today there is a boy who wrote his name as, "Who is ... Justin?"

Kids. They are so much better than adults.

ps: I probably should not be so proud that I am getting all of the Kids' questions correct, right?

ps number two: I'm sorry but how can you not love a show that features the phrase, "What is a banana boat?"

mangoes and a mom purse

Seriously, I am like the best teacher ever, or else I'm really crazy. Or both. I just chopped up four mangoes for my class' marble jar party tomorrow. They don't really need any treats beyond the privilege of playing board games all afternoon (their prize), but I am such a Jewish Mother type, I just can't have a celebration without food. Plus, we're learning about Costa Rica for Hispanic Heritage Month and they eat a lot of mangoes there, and even more plus they were really cheap at Elat Market. When I bought them, I forgot how much labor is involved in preparing mangoes. For our last marble jar party, I brought in four pounds of grapes and my Social Committee students washed and cut and separated the whole shebang.

For the record, I became a Jewish Mother when I started carrying Tide-To-Go in my purse. (Isn't it aMAZing?!) But don't worry, I haven't lost my edge. There's also condoms and a digital camera. And gum. And a toothbrush and emergency deodorant. And a deck of cards and a sharpie. And Purell. And an orange marker for grading papers on the go. OK, maybe I need to pare down a bit.

the kid version is 'Bodies of Water'*

I'm watching Jeopardy right now because it's Kids Week and it's awesome. Although there is this kid named Harry who speaks with a slight accent and has a dorky haircut and keeps getting all the questions despite the fact that his playmates are unsuccessfully and frantically pushing their answer buttons, and you just know that no one likes him at school.


* When Fred Savage was on Celebrity Jeopardy years ago, the categories were announced and Fred sighs audibly and says to Alex, "I was hoping I wouldn't get 'Rivers.'"

this is why you go to college

Omigod, I am talking to the world’s worst support person at Amazon. First of all, I have given her my name two times, spelled it out twice very slowly using words, like D AS IN DAVID, and she is still pronouncing it with an extra consonant and syllable. My name is read the same in English and Spanish and French, there is really no reason besides idiotude to mispronounce it the way she is.

Second, I have given her my order number three times, dictated the numbers as well as recited the titles of the three CDs I ordered twenty days ago but still haven’t arrived. I have explained in several different ways that these CDs were supposed to arrive a week ago at the latest, and that Amazon support promised me on Friday that I could call tonight and have them overnighted free of charge, since they have still not shown up. I SPEAK VERY CLEARLY, I AM A TEACHER AND USED TO CHILDREN NOT UNDERSTANDING ENGLISH but Support Person is in a league all her own.

SP has put me on hold five different times to “pull my order from the system,” but has come back on the line each time asking me what my order is. When I asked her why it is taking so long, she put me on hold. When she came back a the fifth time and asked whether I ordered CDs or DVDs, I asked to speak with her supervisor. She told me she couldn’t see her supervisor around, but since I have a brother who works in telephone sales I KNOW there is ALWAYS a supervisor present. Which I told her and demanded to speak with him or her and she put me on hold. Then I asked her name, and she put me on hold again. Just now she came back on and told me that if I wanted to cancel my order I could. PULLING MY HAIR OUT. I said very slowly and loudly, I DON’T WANT TO CANCEL, I WANT MY CDS NOW, and then she asked to put me on hold, and just before I hung up, I got her name.

Jema

Support Person Jema, I don't know what is wrong with you. I called Amazon again today and a nice fellow named Brian fixed my problem in seven minutes. We even had time to chat about my Voodoo Doll plans.

Beginning Teacher Sucks Ass

My friend Ischia weighs in on BTSA, the bane of our collective existence:

There are no good memories associated w/BTSA. Trust me. The food is gross b/c it's greasy and fattening shit that they serve in plates that are way too small so you have to get up more than you want to during the meeting for some more disgusting crap that you really don't need to eat but you end up doing it b/c you are just so f--kin' BORED out of your mind while you're there.

This is one hundred percent accurate. The plates are TEENY.