View from the deep end of the pool...

21 PEARLS OF WISDOM FROM ONE NOT SO WISE

2012-01-30T15:31:00.002-05:00

In honor of the fact that, beginning tomorrow, I have 21 more days until THE BIG ONE, I thought I would share some of the pearls of wisdom of my age.

I realize this doesn't amount to a lot in the whole grand scheme of wisdom and knowledge and stuff like that, but it's a good deal for me ... and the "almost 40 years" that I've lived on this Earth. So, here goes ...

Pearl of Wisdom #21 ... (I'm working backwards here, people) .... POLYESTER PLEATED SKIRTS HAVE A WAY OF BOUNCING BACK IN YOUR FACE.

I know, right!? This one is really profound, right? Life as you know it just isn't the same now that you've had this little nugget dropped in your lap, right? You can thank me later.

See, it's like this, in 5th grade, I was a pain in every one's butt, including my poor, long-suffering 5th grade teacher, Mr. Norris. Somewhere, in Michigan, this man needs to know that I have become a teacher. He needs to know this so that he can have peace of mind that I am being paid back, in spades, for every single wrong deed I undertook in his classroom ... or in the general vicinity of his classroom.

So, if you know him, please drop him a line and let him know. I have ten years in, and I would say that I am about a quarter of the way through the PAID IN FULL debt to the poor man. After I am finished, I need to start in on my debt to my 4th grade teacher, Miss VanKampen. Poor woman must have aged five years the year she had me in her room.

Seriously.

But I was talking about 5th grade ...

There was this one instance, in a whole, long line of instances that stands out in my mind ... a time I should have been actively listening, actively taking notes, probably in Social Studies -- I hated Social Studies --when I decided that I would much rather be doing ANYTHING in class than listening to Mr. Norris drone on about Social Studies and taking notes from the notes he was putting on the overhead in front of me -- technology at its best in 1982 and 1983.

So, I started playing with my polyester, pleated skirt. Hey! We were just out of the 70s, and pleats and polyester were all the rage ... and my mother still dressed me. Were it up to me, I would have been in a ripped up pair of jeans and dirty t-shirt. All I can say is that I've grown some since then, and for this, my mother is exceedingly thankful.

Here's the thing with polyester, see. One of it's best properties as a fabric is that it has spring ... bounce ... it's stretchy. It didn't take my bored, little 5th grade mind long to realize that if I pulled the fabric forward just a bit, it would bounce back in my lap.

Hours of fun, folks! Or at the very least, it will eat up a good 45-minute lesson.

However, there's a problem with this particular line of experimentation, and that is that one often fails to predict, with any degree of accuracy, the length to which the polyester will actually travel in the backward springing motion.

I failed to think this through carefully enough, and before I could say POLYESTER, that skirt went flying back and snapped me in my face, leaving me to reveal to all watching, (and Mr. Norris was watching, because I was on his "WATCH LIST" when it came to inattentive students) my unmentionables.

God bless, Mr. Norris. He made a valiant effort at stifling the laugh. He really did. He coughed and choked and bit his lip, before he just hung his head and laughed outright.

My mother told me it served me right that my underwear were on display for all to view, seeing as I didn't find it within myself to actually pay attention. She was the picture of Nurturing Mother, wasn't she? I can't really blame her. She'd had five years of school history prior to this one in which to fully grasp the severity of the issue, that being that there was a distinct possibility she might either kill me or that I might be incarcerated for a large portion of my adult life.

You can imagine her great pleasure that I am actually functioning part of society today.

And so you may be asking yourself, "what, exactly, am I to be taking from her polyester skirt?" Ahh, good question, Grasshopper. You should be taking the following:

Life can come and snap back in your face at the most inopportune moments, especially when you choose not to pay attention and be attentive. Will you be ready for that? Or will you be sitting there, underwear exposed to the world? It's always better to be present in life. While not always entertaining, it is certainly better than showing off your flower-print panties.

This is a photo of a photo, so not too awesome in the quality department. However, that's me, in about 1982, my sister Ann, and my youngest cousin Korey.

22 Days and Counting...

2012-01-29T20:56:00.003-05:00

Circa 1972

By my calculations, I have 22 days until I can no longer say, "I'm in my 30s."

Only 22 more days before I have to go up a set of boxes on those surveys that request an age range.

Only 22 more days before I inevitably receive a premature mailing from AARP requesting immediate action for membership.

Circa 1975

Only 22 more days before I turn 40 and enter a world that I am not fearful or ... or sad about ... or anything other than exciting. Really. I am not trying to convince myself of anything. I really am excited about turning 40. Every woman I know that entered her 40s has told me that they are the most fun they've had.

Circa 1976

So, only 22 more days until I begin a new and exciting chapter in my life ... until I discover things about myself that I didn't know were there.

Circa 1975

Only 22 more days until I am free of the turbulent 20s and the thoroughly confusing 30s. Hello 40s, and bring it on!

An ode to some pretty bad hair!

ELECTRICAL PROBLEMS

2012-01-25T15:51:00.002-05:00

I have AAAAALLLLLL the technology in my classroom plugged into one electrical outlet.

Yeah. I know. It wasn't me. I am bad, but not THAT bad.

So, it was just a matter of time before something was to go awry. Fast-forward to yesterday morning, when I repeatedly attempted to turn the big screen television on, wherein my students could read the day's schedule. Yeah ... nothing was happening.

It took me a bit to realize that there wasn't any power to the tv or to any of the items plugged into the same general outlet. Being the concerned person I am, I called my principal to report what I was sure was a tripped circuit breaker. I mean, what else could it be, right?

He dutifully checked for me, and nothing. All was fine in the world of open and closed circuits.

He was stumped, so he called in an electrician to solve the problem.

Now, I need to inform you, my intelligent readers, that we've had some issues with mice. Therefore, I deducted that perhaps some furry, yet germ-ridden rodent could be the cause of said electrical interference. Especially in light of my teammate's recent discovery of a mouse head in her heater's blower motor. Why couldn't his yet-to-be-discovered-body have caused an electrical shortage?

Today, my principal came up to me, and smiling deviously, said, "I have discovered your electrical problem."

"Really! It was a mouse, wasn't it?"

"Nope," he smirked. "Your extension cord wasn't plugged in."

Why yes! That is blonde hair on top of my head. Thanks for inquiring!

WHAT'S FOR DINNER

2012-01-23T19:13:00.001-05:00

This looks like a lot of food, but really, it's a smallish sweet potato and two tiny chicken breast tenderloins. I mixed some Kentucky Spice from The Old Honey Barn in a tablespoon or two of sour cream. I slathered the tenderloins in that mixture and then rolled them in crushed up wheat saltines. To keep them from sticking, I sprayed an iron skillet with vegetable spray and stuck it all in the oven on 385 degrees for about 45 minutes.

The sweet potatoes were made based on how they were served to me during a meeting with a bunch of people that all hail from Appalachia. I'm not sure if this is a regional thing, the preparation of the sweet potatoes, but I LOVED it. So, I copied it!

Scrub a sweet potato and slice into a few THICK slices. Butter both ends and sprinkle both ends with brown sugar and cinnamon. I stuck the potatoes in the oven midway through the cooking cycle of the chicken. They were done by the time the chicken was done.

I'd plan to make a salad, but I got sidetracked and forgot. Oopsies!

It was a delicious meal! You must try it!

My thanks to Erin Peach for the chicken recipe -- I tweaked it for my tastes, but it was still amazing!

SHE THINKS I MOVED THAT THERE JUST FOR HER

2012-01-23T18:50:00.001-05:00

I created a buffet in my dining room by re-purposing a piece of furniture.

Emmy the Cat doesn't see it that way. She feels like I moved the cabinet under the window so that she could be more comfortable why spying on the neighbors and viewing the birds and squirrels that run around outside of the window. In fact, she is wondering what took me so long to realize she needed something cozier than the cold, marble window sill she had been perched upon.

ON NOT BEING ABLE TO MAKE UP MY MIND

2012-01-23T18:43:00.001-05:00

My bedroom is a work in progress. A very slow and arduous process. I have a vision in my mind of how I see the end result. The end result and my pocket book and the resources available are not working together for good. In fact, they are not playing well together in the sandbox AT. ALL.

My vision is that my room will be a romantic black and white theme with a hint of soft pinks and grays. My sister is currently working some gray pinstripe pillows for me, and she sent me a "sneak peek" photo to me just moments ago ... well, let's just say, I'm in love!!!

The next item on my bedroom TO DO list was curtains. Now, I must again reiterate that I HAVE a vision in my mind, that being these sweet, romantic, feminine sets of black and white curtain panels that is very Fleur de Lis in nature. My search for just the right curtain panels has been an exercise in futility. Such curtains either don't exist, are too expensive, exist but only in a too small size or waaaay too big size, aren't white enough, aren't black enough, or are not available in my area.

In the meantime, the ugly, ugly mini-blinds currently hanging in my bedroom are on their last legs. Recently, as I've attempted to lower or raise them, they've staged a coupe of sorts, and I fear it's only a matter of time before they implode, and my room is left "wide open" to the masses, if you know what I mean.

So, you can imagine my annoyance when I marched into Walmart yesterday -- only after visiting Pier 1 Imports, Kohls, JcPenney, Kmart, and Lowes -- and looked at the various selections of plain, black curtain panels.

I went with one pair of the curtains below. Despite the lack of ironing that occurred, I liked that they were structured and heavy and looked like they were a little more expensive. However, I HATE the grommets at the top. U.G.L.Y. I am not even sure I like the solid black.

So, I went back and got the curtains you see below. I like the tabs at the top; however, they are thinner and cheesier-looking. Again, I am still not sold on the solid black, but my back is up against the wall on getting my windows covered at night.

Why won't the decorating gods work with me on this rather than against me? What do you all think?

On Being a Foodie ... Sorta

2012-01-21T14:46:00.000-05:00

I pretend I'm a foodie ... some sort of snooty food lover that dines at only the finest eating establishments that our American culture can afford.

The truth is, Cracker Barrel is neither the finest in dining nor is it a quintessential example of American dining.

So, I pretend and am always so excited when I get the opportunity to eat at a place that truly views food as art.

I am currently sitting in a place in Midway, Kentucky, called Holly Hill Inn. I'm in a meeting, and I will admit that while I was excited about going to the meeting (and this isn't always the case where meetings are concerned), I was even more excited about the opportunity to eat at this inn -- a place with quite the reputation for good, artistic food.

Let me just lay it out for you:

The first course was a salad course, and I chose the Woodford Salad (named after the county in which the inn is located). For anyone that knows me well knows that a good, funky salad will make me happy for days. Throw in some encrusted pecans, and you can't even peel me off the ceiling ... ever! This salad didn't disappoint. Full of fresh greens, red onions, oranges, and some amazing balsamic vinaigrette of some sort or another ... I mean, what other word can be used to describe it other than DIVINE?

The second course was the main course, and I chose the Chicken Etouffee. While good, I think I would have loved to devour the Roast Pork on corn muffins with BBQ mustard sauce. The gentelman next to me had that, and while I did like my meal, I had to fight myself to keep from stealing from his plate when he wasn't looking.

I thing that I liked least about my entree was the fact that it was parts of a whole chicken (those that know me best know that I'm a chicken breast girl, skinless, thank you very much. Pretty sure I ate lotsa chicken skin with it, but because it was smothered in this amazing, slightly spicey sauce, I didn't mind.

The final course was the dessert course, and let's just say, it was the cherry on top of the meal. Brown Butter Brownie in a Jar with Chocolate Ganache. YOU HAD ME AT GANACHE!!!

It came in a jar, oh yes it did. With a dollop of THE creamiest vanilla ice cream I've ever put in my mouth and fresh mint for garnish. It was so thick, so rich, so decadent, I can feel the tooth decay forming as I type this.

These days, when I take a moment to savor the food I put in my mouth, I think, "Mmmmmm, I can do this. I can cook food like this."

And then I go home, pull out my crock pot and my "Easy to Make One Pot Meals," and begin to prepare my Pepsi Pork Chops.

An Ode to Cleaning

2012-01-21T11:55:00.000-05:00

In an attempt to extend the productivity I was experiencing at school (yes, I was a super productive, number one, grade A, tree-killing, grade-giving beast yesterday!), I came home last night and determined to clean house. And by clean house, I mean, I wanted a full-on cleaning wherein, no surface of my main living quarters would go untouched by some sort of cleaning product that, by all intents and purposes could be deemed cancer-causing.

To borrow a phrase from a well-known movie of my day, I wanted my house to "shine like the dome of the Chrysler Building, or your backsides will." Okay, the last part of that phrase has little to nothing to do with the idea behind why I write this ode, but I do love quoting Miss Hannigan, in part because I feel sort of like Miss Hannigan on a daily basis at school.

But I digress.

The entire point of this ode is to sing the praises of two very amazing, dare I say, revolutionizing products that I have begun a rather scandalous cleaning affair with....

The first ode is to Multi-Purpose Pledge, which, in its very nature, is the epitome of my laziness. I can take this amazing spray, drench a dust rag in it's lemony goodness, and wipe down my entire house from stem to stern, crown molding to the last inch of hardwood flooring, and everything becomes immediately dust-free.

Okay, so perhaps there aren't stems nor sterns in my house ... I am so new to this whole home ownership thing. I have lived in the house for just under 15 months, and just recently, I ventured to the attic, and that one occurrence was only to stick my head through the hole in the ceiling where one enters one's attic if one were brave enough to do so. There were a lot of joists and buttresses as well as some old Christmas lights and a suitcase which may or may not hold the wealth and treasures I've dreamed of uncovering, but I'm not entirely sure there were sterns or stems.

Ah, but once again, I digress.

I swathed, nay, I bathed my entire house in the lovely Multi-Purpose Pledge ... tables, chairs, mantles, mirrors, televisions, and The Cat, had she sat still long enough to allow such an offense to occur. Alas, she has lived with me long enough to anticipate such lapses in judgement. She anticipates these manic cleaning sessions. She can react in cat-like quickness, good too, considering she's, well, a cat.

That stuff ... Multi-Purpose Pledge .... it is the SCHIZZ NITZ!

The final product to which I owe an ode, not to mention a debt of gratitude, is my Shark Steam mop, delivered to me, on Christmas Day, by Santa and Mrs. Claus. They live in Michigan, by the way. Did you know that? It's true. Santa and Mrs. Claus live in Michigan.

My Shark Steam mop makes short order of cleaning my floors, and I've got to tell you, I hate cleaning my floors. Lest you underestimate my lack of commitment where my floors are concerned, let me just tell you that my floors get mopped once in a Blue Moon, or when a total eclipse of the sun or your heart occurs, which ever one comes first! I know! I live very closely to the way seven male college co-eds would live, complete with paper towel coffee filters, and somewhere in Michigan my mother is rolling her eyes, rubbing her furrowed brow and muttering annoyed, "I taught her better than this," but it's true. I don't do floors. So anything that makes that ugly job just a wee bit easier for me, and entertains me in the process, is worth it's weight in North Pole magic! And this steaming baby is definitely worth it!

Today, when I woke up, unnaturally early, due in part to The Cat's insistence on playing (who plays at 5 a.m., really!?), my house sparkled and shone (or at least I think that's what those stars in my eyes were as I stumbled to the coffee maker), and there was a hint of lemon in the air (and not a hint of old, sweaty gym sock anywhere).

Yes, Multi-Purpose Pledge, Steam Shark, how I love thee .... let me count the ways ... let me sing your praises ... and bow to your glorious, beauty of housecleaning prowess ... you are my sun, my moon, my living, my dying ...

Me? Melodramatic? Ummm....

The Brilliance of the Moment

2012-01-18T17:16:00.002-05:00

Yesterday evening ... okay, maybe it was early this morning ... I made a decision.

I feel it's steeped in good intentions. It has my sanity in mind. It has my desire to be the best person I can be in mind.

What is that decision, you might be asking? What Earth-shattering epiphany have I had that will turn the orbit of the planets counter-clockwise?

I am no longer taking stuff home. To be specific, I am no longer taking home, daily, school stuff.

I know! It goes against the grain of all that is a teacher, right?

But here's the thing (and for those of you that don't know, I just broke a 4th grade rule of NEVER, EVER starting a sentence with BUT or AND ... big pet peeve of mine). BUT here's the thing ... when I take stuff home, it sits in the bag, festering, while I work on the domestic chores at hand, usually tons of domestic chores ... like laundry ... laundry that's been sitting there for days ... okay, a week and a half. Don't judge!

And (see, there I go again!), I never get anything out of that bag because I'm trying to fit a work-out in ... and dishes ... and meal planning ... and all the other stuff that needs to happen once I get home.

This is not to say that I won't EVER bring stuff home. There are going to be times I will need to so. However, my new rule is this:

Whatever cannot be done between 6 a.m. and 7:15 a.m. and 2:45 p.m. and 5 p.m., isn't going to get done. Period. End of story.

Yes, ladies and gentlemen. That was my moment of brilliance.

Eight Random Things that Have Nothing to do with Each Other

2012-01-17T19:53:00.000-05:00

The following are eight random things that have nothing to do with one another. They are random ... I'm warning you.

1.) I am not going to get Christmas cards out. It's not happening. I figure...we've already seen 17 days of the Year 2012 come and go, and so, why bother, right? I look at it this way -- I'm just super prepared for Christmas 2012 now! I mean, I even have some of the envelopes already addressed! Beautiful, right?

2.) I'm getting old. That is the only reason to explain why my left hip aches ... all. the. time. What a sad, sad day, when it hurts to sit criss-cross applesauce style for more than five seconds.

3.) Clothes don't wash themselves. No. It's true. I've tested the theory out. Since Saturday, I have waited for the piles to spontaneously wash themselves. It hasn't happened. I suppose I'm going to have to do something about that.

4.) Moscato is good. That's it. That's all I wanted to say about it.

5.) We had a nasty storm blow through today around lunchtime. Whenever we have a nasty storm blow through, I have a nasty headache. Today? Nothing. Now that the nasty storm is gone, I have a headache. I don't get my body. I just don't get it.

6.) Exercise isn't going to happen tonight. I just have way too much to do ... like blog with you all.

7.) I am irrationally afraid of the stomach flu. Children have been projectile puking all over the school, and I can't find a Haz-Mat suit fast enough. Seriously. You think I jest. I don't.

8.) There was once a brilliant idea for a fantastic evening dinner. But then I got home, and left-overs sounded so much better. So, the brilliant idea will have to wait.

There they are. Eight random things that have nothing whatsoever to do with each other. Don't say I didn't warn you.

ROUTINES

2012-01-08T21:42:00.000-05:00

Well, it's that time of year again ... time to get back into a routine. School begins tomorrow -- well, it actually began last Friday, but tomorrow is the start of the first real week.

I was soooooo excited to be able to get back into a routine after the holidays ... I knew that was the only way I was going to get a handle on my out-of-control, couch-potato-hermit-like lifestyle. This weekend was suppose to be the jump-start I needed to get my discipline together and get my life back in order.

And then The Migraine happened. I attempted to ignore it ... that got me no where but in bed, moaning in agony.

This evening, I feel like I am not ready for the week, but that's okay. I refuse ... REFUSE, do you hear me!? I refuse to get all stressed out and weird on anyone because I am not fully prepared. Here's what I've come to realize:

Life is too short to stress about it. This situation is what it is. I could not have guessed that I would be sick with a migraine, and that nothing I planned to do would actually get done this weekend.

Eventually, it will get done. Nothing to freak out about ... absolutely nothing.

With two weeks into the first month of 2012, I am embracing this new me ... the me that is out to enjoy life and not complain about it. God has richly blessed me, and I need to enjoy those blessings. Period. End of story.

So bring on the routine. I will rejoice in the beauty of the routine.

OPERATION REORGANIZATION -- Phase 3

2012-01-04T19:21:00.000-05:00

The dining room buffet. It now houses all the "Sunday Company" dishes. Thus, the space in my kitchen has been freed for all other things kitcheny. I tell you, my life has been revolutionized today!

OPERATION REORGANIZATION -- Phase 2

2012-01-04T18:57:00.000-05:00

I rearranged a TON of stuff in my dining room and kitchen. I also created a pantry of sorts in my living room closet, which meant I had to shift stuff that I use for decorating to the basement. WHEW! I'm exhausted! And starving!

Here's what I've done so far today ...

"I'd like to thank all the little people that helped me ..." Actually, she was not very much help at all, when she was snoring away on the sofa.

This is the little pantry area in my living room closet (which is HUGE) where I am keeping those appliances that I use, but not daily. Thanks, Mom! This was a brilliantly inspired idea!

I rearranged cabinets so that now all "everyday" plates, bowls and such are together. Also, I have a spot for wine glasses and water bottles/coffee mugs! Yay me! By the way, I HATE that wallpaper border.

I put my Spaghetti String collection on the top shelf of the cabinets above my sink. The bottom shelf is now home to crackers, snacks, hot chocolate and stuff. It seems so illogical, but it works.

Now, all of my glasses and coffee mugs are to the left of my sink, and in direct line of the coffee maker. Easy access on those "stumble into the kitchen exhausted" mornings.

All baking staples are now in the cabinet right next to my stove. It just works soooooooo much better than were I had all that stuff before.

All cooking "equipment" that is used with a great deal of frequency are now housed in my "giant' cabinet on my kitchen "island." Much more room to work around.

Another view of said cabinet.

My kitchen cabinet is now the home for those baking and cooking items that are used frequently, but are ... how do I put this ... plastic, etc. Make sense?

A PUBLIC APOLOGY FOR MY FAMILY AND FRIENDS

2012-01-04T11:38:00.001-05:00

The holidays are officially over ... all the family has left, and the house seems eerily quiet. It won't be long before Emmy the Cat and I get back into the swing of single-hood and quiet houses and a routine and stuff. But for now, I'm feeling a bit lonely and nostalgic and, well, sad. I can't help it. I love being surrounded by the people I love and miss them dearly when they leave. Even when my sister comes for a visit in the evening (or I go to see her)... I miss her when she leaves. It's the lot in life for those that are social butterflies ... or just extremely talkative.

This morning, while spending quiet time alone in the, well, QUIET, I was convicted ... convicted because 2011 was not my best year in terms of my attitude. Quite frankly, I think it stunk ... on more than a few occasions I was cranky and whiny. I passed judgement when I should have just let it (whatever IT might have been) go. I missed opportunities. I didn't love enough on people that probably needed it. I complained waaaaay too much. I missed the joy in life ... in the small moments that pass us by while we're too busy being busy. In short, I wasn't a nice person.

Now, I have had to create some boundaries this year. More than what I would like, in order to hang on to a modicum of my sanity at times. However, I may have gone a bit over-board in the boundary department ... to the point that I became a hermit ... and, actually liked it!

I think that is why I was so looking forward to 2012 so much. It's a do-over, and Lord knows, I've needed one. In fact, truth be told, He's been nudging me to get a do-over started nigh unto January 2, 2011!

So, I must apologize to my family! If I was crabby, cranky, out of sorts, and generally not always a joy to be around the last 10 days ... or 12 months, I am so very sorry. I hate that I might have spent any of the last 10 days hurting your feelings or making you feel less than welcome or loved. I TRULY love you all and miss you all dearly when we aren't together. I am working on finding joy and contentment in the simple things and not in wishing things away to a point that I've worked myself into a fit of headaches and stomach issues, etc., etc., etc.

To my friends ... if I wasn't there when you needed me ... or my stressed out self was more than you could take ... or my whining and complaining and general attitude of morose was more like fingernails on your proverbial chalk board, I sincerely apologize. I am working on being a better person ... I'm a work in progress.

I was reminded this morning how truly blessed I am, and how often I take all of this for granted. This year, 2012 will be an amazing year because you will all be there with me ... experiencing some or all of it alongside of me. This year, 2012, will be an amazing year because I have all of you in my life ... loving me ... cheering for me ... and sticking by when I have one of those whining, horrible, no good, attitudes.

I love each and every one of you!

OPERATION "GET THIS HOUSE IN ORDER" -- Phase 1

2012-01-03T21:04:00.000-05:00

I am re-purposing some items in my house. This cabinet may be part of my craft room project a little later on , but for now, it sits in the corner of my dining room!

I have re-purposed my old TV cabinet to a dining room buffet. I am planning on painting it ... just not sure what color yet. Suggestions?

The brand new tv console!!! I sort of goofed and bought one that is only made for a flat screen ... oops! My dad assures me that since I don't have children, my TV will be just fine. Tomorrow, I will be rearranging stuff in my kitchen to accommodate food and stuff.

WELCOME 2012!!!!!

2012-01-02T12:27:00.001-05:00

I have never been so excited to see a New Year, as I have this one.

Why, you ask?

Well, for starters, I spent the better part of 2011 whining ...

whining about how stressed I was
whining about how much I hate graduate school
whining about the amount of work I have to do on a daily basis
whining about all the stuff I have to do at home
WHINING, WHINING, WHINING ...

Whining takes a lot out of a girl, and as the year rolled on, it made me crabby ... grumpy ... and generally sour. I don't like it when I'm generally sour. I doubt many others do either. I just don't have any fun when I'm sour, and I want to have more fun. I don't have fun when I'm whining.

As I looked to the end of the Christmas season, sadly, I began to contemplate new beginnings ... turning new leaves ... do-overs ... and I realized it made no sense going back over my goals for 2011. They were and are sooooo over. Rather, I needed to look to 2012 with great anticipation. It has some pretty cool things in store for me.

First off, I will begin my inaugural year in my 40s. I am excited, and I'm not just saying that to convince myself. I really am looking forward to a new chapter.

Secondly, I will finally graduate from my masters program, and while I've spent the better part of two years moaning about the entire process, it is a big accomplishment that might require a big party.

Thirdly, I am finally going to embrace DISCIPLINE. For so long, that has been I word I've abhorred, but what I have come to realize is that it is actually something to embrace ... we all need a little discipline in order to survive. Otherwise, we would have complete and total chaos.

Fourthly, I am not going to give myself a bunch of goals that I won't be able to accomplish. I hate failure, and the least little thing that might smack of failure is more than I can take.

So, I am looking at five little things that I want to try to accomplish this year, and they are:

Get this place (i.e., house) organized
Have a plan for more exercise
Eat more veggies
Entertain more
Get out of the house more

I have some plans in place, and I am excited about the future. So much growth on my part, if you knew me well at all. So, maybe 2011 wasn't a complete wash after all.

So, WELCOME 2012! Come on in. Sit down. Have a cup of coffee ... or tea. Whatever you prefer. but get ready to have some fun! It's going going to be a great year!

Jean jacket fun

2011-12-18T12:22:00.001-05:00

Jean jacket fun by megteach featuring vintage earrings

Dsquared printed t shirt
€119 - jades24.com

Isabel de Pedro wide leg pants
£105 - julesb.co.uk

Repetto ballerina flat
$265 - net-a-porter.com

L A P A genuine leather briefcase
$787 - forzieri.com

Bottega Veneta bangle bracelet
$2,250 - net-a-porter.com

1928 vintage earrings
$16 - 1928.com

Jigsaw wool scarve
£49 - jigsaw-online.com

The 59th Gubernatorial Inauguration in Kentucky

2011-12-13T15:05:00.002-05:00

Today, it was decreed that we wouldn't have school in honor of the Gubernatorial Inauguration of Governor Steven Beshear. Not being one to be left out of a good party, I decided to head downtown and take in the parade. I LOVE parades. LOVE THEM!! I get teary-eyed while watching them, that's how much I LOVE parades.

Here are the photos I took before my camera, with fresh batteries, mind you, decided to stage a coup' and die on me.

Every county in the Commonwealth was represented in the way of marching bands as well as various dignitaries, etc. Here's just a bit of the parade ...

Hard to see it, but the Capitol is festooned in blue and gold bunting ... very festive!

LOVE a peaceful demonstration during a politically charged day.

And so it begins! The parade is escorted by the Frankfort Police Department

US Army Color Guard

A better photo of the Colors

Yay for the Color Guard!

Army National Guard Band

Here comes the Governor and his First Lady!

Governor and Mrs. Beshear

Lt. Governor Abramson

Former Governors ... sort of a bunch of party poopers. They showed up, but they didn't all ride the horsy carriage.

Mustang Troop from Lexington

It's not a parade in Kentucky without the Pooper Scooper Brigade!

More of the 59th Gubernatorial Inauguration

2011-12-13T15:01:00.000-05:00

Even More Inauguration Parade Photos

2011-12-13T15:00:00.000-05:00

Still More Photos from the Inauguration Parade

2011-12-13T14:59:00.000-05:00

Funny Conversations I've Had Today

2011-12-05T19:45:00.001-05:00

With my dad ...
Dad: "They might be throwing a big .... oh, what do you call it? You know? It's a dinner ... where they practice the wedding ... you know? The practice dinner."

Me: "The rehearsal dinner, Dad? Do you mean the rehearsal dinner?"

With my sister ...
Me: "Would you like these [two sports bottles] for when you workout on your elliptical machine?"

Ann: "Ha! When I'm working on my elliptical. You're funny. I might take one."

With Carrie ...
Me: "Oh man! I need to transfer some money in my account. My mortgage hasn't cleared, and I have just about enough for the mortgage."

Carrie: "Just do an online transfer."

Me: "I don't think I can. I can only look at my balances."

Few minutes later ...

Me: "Oh wait! I can do online transactions. This is slicker than snot on a door knob!"

Carrie: "Dude, no offense, but I can't believe it's taken you this long to figure that out!"

Feeling the Merry

2011-12-02T14:01:00.001-05:00

As a kid, I got sooooo excited at the mere thought of decorating for Christmas. And by excited, I mean, losing my mind, out of control, over the top, flipping my lid, EXCITED!

I could never understand why my mom grumbled and complained about the mess and why we always had to the ENTIRE house BEFORE the decorations came up and then why we had to clean AFTER they were put up and then why "if I hear you whine one more time, we will not be putting up decorations today" ...

And well, I've had my tree up for approximately four days. Currently, it sits with lights. Nothing more. Just lights. And it almost didn't have those.

I have approximately seven bajillion boxes of decorations and ornaments and such down in the basement just waiting for The Great Dragging Up the Steps, but I just cannot seem to bring myself to do it. I cannot seem to muster the strength at night to drag each and every bajillionth box up the steps.

So there my bare-naked tree sits ... save for the pretty lights that I strung on it ... without saying too many bad words in the process, I promise.

And I finally get it. I really do! I get why my mother huffed and puffed and practically stamped her feet at the thought of dragging out all of the decorations. It wasn't because she was Scrooge or the Grinch or some hybrid of the two.

Decorating like a pro takes a lot out of a girl, and, quite frankly, I've not had enough in me to begin with ....

However, the plan tonight is simple. Go to Lowes and grab a power strip ... Go to Kroger and grab something frozen for dinner ... Go home and put on my jammies ... go to the fridge and pour a glass of wine ... Go to the basement and begin the dragging ... decorate the Charles Dickens out of my house.

Then I'll be feelin' the Merry ....

A WISH LIST OF SORTS

2011-11-30T11:07:00.001-05:00

Things I WISH I could have at my disposal at the snap of my fingers ... but, let's face it -- it's NEVER going to happen.

A Starbucks kiosk in my classroom. The mind reels at the level of productivity I would have if I had a kiosk in my room.
A good-looking, tall, dark, and handsome type that would be available at a moment's notice for odd jobs around the house that I neither can do or care to do. This list is a long one ... I might need to let him live in my basement or something.
A personal chef ... I can cook. I just never have the motivation to do so.
A personal massage therapist.
A cat that actually listens to my directions and FOLLOWS them.
A never-ending closet, wherein, I could open it up and new, hip, and exciting outfits would always pop out and be ready to go. The closet would TOTALLY know the weather too.
Let's extend the idea in #6 to a refrigerator. I mean, really!? Who wouldn't want that piece of handy technology?
A running tab that someone else would be responsible to pay at the local bookstore.
Endless amounts of time and energy to tackle all the latest and greatest schemes that pop into my head.
Children in my presence that never whined or asked WHY NOT?, and were generally pleasant at all times.

A Thanksgiving Cook's THANKFUL List

2011-11-24T07:17:00.001-05:00

10. A pampered chef chopper. That invention is brilliant in my mind. For instance, I don't have to spend the rest of the day smelling onion on my hands.

9. Easy pour chicken broth. I'm not sure whose idea that was, but I certainly hope you were paid handsomely for that little beauty!

8. Turkey farmers of America! If any of my family members or friends had to rely on me to kill, pluck, dress, and dissect a turkey ... well, we'd be vegetarians.

7. The turkey neck. Seems I can make some sort of soup or broth in the coming days with that nasty mess. Yay for me.

6. Glad Press 'n Seal. OMG ... this stuff is the schizz-nitz! I'm pressin' 'n sealin' all sorts of crap in my kitchen. If the cat's not careful, she'll be next!

5. Ziploc plastic containers. I realize this has put a dent in Tupperware's wallet, but seriously, people! These containers have saved my bacon the other 364 days of the year as well.

4. Kentucky Brand Country Spice. This little mixture of spices just could be my secret weapon this year...just sayin.'

3. Caffeine. I'm going to need it and in copious amounts when my Thanksgiving Day Turkey Wake Up Call finally hits me. By the way, that's what I named the alarm on my Smart phone. I'm clever like that.

2. Refrigeration. This sort of goes along with my Number 1 reason to be a thankful Thanksgiving cook. I mean, need I say more?

1. Electricity. Thanks a million Thomas Edison for your work in furthering our modern day electricity. Five hours and this bird will be done. You rock, dude!

THANKSgiving

2011-11-23T23:26:00.000-05:00

I echo Linus' prayer tonight, this, the eve of THANKSGIVING DAY. In the flurry of shopping madness that seems to have overshadowed the feeling of blessing and thanksgiving, I echo the sentiments in a simple children's Thanksgiving special ... I thank God for my family and my friends, all of whom are an extension of my family, for my house and my food and my safety, and I thank God for my freedom and for my health.

So many abundant blessings. May you all enjoy the abundance of His blessings.

When Your Life Consists of Putting Off Writing THE PAPER

2011-11-20T21:53:00.001-05:00

To be honest, I just haven't felt like writing recently.

And perhaps, not so recently.

In fact, I've spent a lot of time whining .... and complaining ... groaning ... moaning ... digging my heels in ... getting all stubborn and pig-headed ...

It's not been my best past few weeks.

However, in two days, I will be done. Done with my latest class, and I will be two more classes away from being COMPLETELY DONE.

When I was a kid, my mother said I used to spend an entire day complaining and crying about getting busy and cleaning up my room -- I can remember thinking that it was too overwhelming. So, instead of just getting to it, I'd cry and scream and attempt to negotiate my way out of it, and by the time I was done, my day was wasted, and I could have just shoved all the crap under my bed and been done with it all.

So, on Wednesday morning, when I arise, hopefully, a little later than usual, and I realize that I have absolutely no ugly writing deadline hanging over my head, I plan to do a little happy dance, wherein I will attempt to NOT throw my back out. And I will be celebrate and be thankful ....

Right now, I plan to whine a bit more before I dig in my heels and crank out this last paper.

Bear with me, dear readers. I will be back soon ...

Breaking my silence

2011-11-02T22:09:00.002-04:00

It's been pretty quiet here in my little blog land. But I have a good excuse! I've been busy teaching ... in Russian.

What?

You need proof that I can teach in Russian?

All right!

Picture this. I was reviewing with my students, concepts that they we had learned -- or so I thought -- first quarter, when I posed this first question.

"So, before the first white settlers every set foot on the land we now call Kentucky, who were our very first residents?"

Lots of eagerly waved hands.

I point to one little eager beaver, and they shouted enthusiastically, "THE PILGRIMS."

"Ummmm ... okay ... uh nooooooo ...."

We finally got it straight -- Native American's = "first peoples"

And then I did it ... I dared to ask the next question: "So, if the explorers and settlers didn't travel through the Cumberland Gap to get here, how did they travel?"

"THE MAYFLOWER!"

Yep, it's true. I'm teaching in Russian. Clearly. There was something lost in translation.

"I Think You Have a Problem!"

2011-10-23T16:05:00.002-04:00

This is Your Kitty. This is Your Kitty on Drugs.

2011-10-23T14:07:00.000-04:00

A Day at Boyd's Orchard and the resulting craftiness

2011-10-15T19:33:00.001-04:00

A pile o' pumpkins

Porch-sittin' in the sun -- what could be better?

Golden sunshine in a pot ... BEAUTIFUL!

My purchases!

I LOVE quaint. Please just wrap it up and put it in my truck!

A paintbrush and some acrylic black paint, and I'm Martha Stewart. Okay, I aspire to Martha Stewart ... more like Martha-in-Training.

Monogrammed pumpkins! Brilliant, right?

Why not add some polka dots?

Of course, Emmy needs a monogrammed pumpkin that's just her size!

A family that monograms together, stays together.

And then I got really wild and crazy and painted a witch's hat on another pumpkin. Watch out, Martha!

Emmy is giving her approval to her pumpkin.

She's planning on when, in the middle of the night, she's going to knock them off and bat them around the living room. I'm wondering when they will start rotting.

A Halloween portrait.

Bedecked for the "holidays."

A close up ... so you can really be in awe of the "talent."

The OFFICIAL Halloween portrait.

A Visual of Fall Break

2011-10-15T11:10:00.001-04:00

And this pretty much sums up Fall Break 2011!

A year in review ... the BEFORES and the AFTERS

2011-10-15T10:37:00.000-04:00

October 2011

October 2010

October 2011

October 2010

October 2011

A Year Ago ...

2011-10-14T23:12:00.001-04:00

What were you doing a year ago today? Me? I was signing my life away ... I mean, signing my name to more paper than I care to count and, in doing so, promising to pay for the next 30 years, for a 3 bedroom, 1 and a half bath home in a nice, established subdivision here in town. I called my dad after the closing, and I can still remember what I told my dad when he FINALLY answered the phone. "I ARE ONE!" -- Family joke.

October 2010

October 2011

Home-ownership has been scary and nerve-wracking and fun and humbling and frustrating and joyful all rolled into one! And I don't, for one minute, pretend to forget just how blessed beyond belief I really am. So many are not even half as blessed.

Who is buying this calendar for me for Christmas?

2011-10-10T12:19:00.000-04:00

Inside the Grand Ole Opry

2011-10-08T08:13:00.000-04:00

I took this photo for two reasons: 1. I LOVE Darius Rucker, and 2. It summed up what new aritsts feel performing at the Opry for the first time.

These guitar picks were inlaid in the floor in front of all of the dressing rooms.

One of the dressing rooms ... I think for the new performers.

A dressing room dedicated to all the performers that have traveled in the USO.

Gotta love the matching boot and shirt combo! The "backwards" poster is actually the imprint the company in Nashville, still in business and printing stuff today, used to print the performance posters. Apparently, you can still get vintage posters printed. Ummmm .... that would be cool. Just sayin' ...

The Ladies Dressing room ... much prettier than this photo lets on.

Cole Porter's dressing room. Correct me if I'm wrong, but doesn't he seem a bit Liberace in his decor? Those chairs were TOTALLY 'blinged" out. Not even joking. Not one little bit.

The Green Room where all the stars wait to go on stage. They have SUPER comfy chairs!

A mural painted by a famous Opry member (can't remember who now). If you look real closely, you can see the water line caused by the Flood of May 2010.

Bluegrass residents getting our photos taken in front of the Bluegrass dressing room.

May the Circle Be on Unbroken ... yes, I stood on it ... same place that Johnny Cash stood. I'm now officially cool.

Pew seating in the Grand Ole Opry ... it looked like church too, which might be why the people in our group acted like this was a religious experience.

The Grand Ole Opry Stage ... with dude getting a balloon drop thingy ready.

The Grand Ole Opry -- A pictorial retrospective

2011-10-07T22:01:00.000-04:00

Here I am standing in front of a gigantic guitar ... I mean, come on! What else would I be standing in front of at the Grand Ole Opry!?

Another gigantic guitar ... pronounced GEE-Tar, folks.

There it is ... the Grand Ole Opry!

Waiting to enter hallowed ground ... or so the lady that was in our tour group that kept crying the whole time thought.

There's the artists' entrance!

I'm standing at the artists' entrance where all artists that perform at the Opry enter. Pretty dag-gone cool, I think.

This is the sidewalk at the artists' entrance. Look at that great looking foot -- that's mine. :)

If you become a member of the Opry, you get a mailbox that you fan mail goes into. Whenever you come to the Opry to perform, you can pick up your mail. Pretty cool, eh? I'm standing in front of the desk were the performers get their dressing room assignments.

A Night on Country Music Row -- A Reflection

2011-10-07T21:31:00.000-04:00

Tonight, I risked ear drum damage and possibly damage to my questionable reputation, to spend an evening with one of my best buddies listening to music ... country music, Bluegrass music, old country, Rockabilly, Blues, and anything else to be exact in as many bars, saloon, and dive joints as we could possibly find.

We weren't there to raise H. E. double hockey sticks. Nope! Not us. We were truly interested in listening to music, and, let's be honest here, do some serious people watching! The people we encountered did NOT disappoint.

I mean, take this gentleman here ... we named him Tight White Jeans. He spent the entire time we were at this particular bar, dancing himself into a frothy frenzy. It was a sight to be seen ... one burned into our brains, and we were unable to remove it for some time ...

And then there was this couple. They were wearing matching coveralls, and they could clog the shoes off anyone in that place! They rocked it ... so to speak.

As soon you can see, Erin and I had a fantastic time! Here we are smiling away, probably having just spent a good amount of time screaming and hollering for the band, Tight White Jeans, and the German line dancers .... oh yes, there were line dancers ... from Germany ... wearing American flags on their western wear outfits.

The ambiance of these places was beyond cool! Just look at this place! Full of memorabilia and craziness ...

.... like the shelves and shelves of boots in every shape and color! This was the shelf I was sitting next to ... lots of gray and black and red boots. The wall was FULL of them!

And for those over-beveraged among us, I am pretty sure this is what the band and the bar and the dancers all looked like through the lenses of the beer goggles.

On Being Neighborly

2011-09-27T05:45:00.001-04:00

Immediately following this video, the stupid neighbor cat sprayed ALL OVER my mums. Grrrr!

I Live with a Poltergeist--Her Name is Emmy

2011-09-26T20:51:00.000-04:00

If you'd asked me this morning, say about 5:22 or 5:23 a.m., whether or not I lived in a haunted house, I would have, unequivocally, answered YES! I was convinced I lived in a house with the supernatural.

You see, at 2:30 a.m., I was jarred awake by a quiet conversation in my living room. To say I almost simultaneously pooped and peed my pants would be the understatement of the century! The longer I laid there, the more I realized that a man and a woman were talking in my living room, with a light on, no less!

I finally screwed up the nerve to go out into the living room only to discover that my television was on. I knew I'd turned the TV off before I went to bed. POSITIVE OF IT. And yet, there it was, a gal and guy chatting up hair products. I couldn't figure it out, but I was sure Emmy had nothing to do with it, as she was sprawled out at the foot of my bed looking all "What? What's the big rush in the kitchen?"

It took me a while to get back to sleep, what with the imminent danger that a rogue ghost interested in late night infomercials posed.

Five o'clock came very soon after, and as I stumbled to the kitchen to make my coffee, I was still trying to make sense of the television issues of a few hour earlier, when I was startled awake once again ... this time by the finding Pinky the toy mouse, who is more gray and FILTHY, than pink these days. What was most startling was not his actual presence, but rather the space in which he took up ... on the COUNTER TOP next to my coffeemaker. Besides the fact that Pinky is, have I mentioned this already, FILTHY, he was on my counter top! He belongs on the floor ... not on the counter. How in the world?!

Emmy the Cat ... that's the only poltergeist-like being in this house. She sleeps all day, and so her energy level is waaaay up at night, which is when, I suspect, she rip-snorted through the living room, hitting the remote and turning the television on. Then, she went into the kitchen, somehow managed to get Pinky on the counter -- I shudder to think how that happened -- and booked it to my room, sprawled out on the foot of the bed, acting like nothing ever happened.

And I wonder why I'm in a constant state of perpetual exhaustion ....

It is so hard to find an unbiased news source

2011-09-19T22:17:00.000-04:00

She only does this to newspapers, which leads me to believe that Emmy dislikes the lack of unbiased news reporting currently pouring into our social media these days.

Pardon the lame narration ... it's not my calling ... me and my nasally Northern voice ...

Feeling the Love

2011-09-18T16:54:00.000-04:00

Some of my former students came into my classroom one day after school. This is what they left behind ... I'm loved.

Reading Between the Lines

2011-09-18T16:30:00.002-04:00

Some folks see the face of Jesus in their slice of cheese. Me? My breakfast of peanut butter toast is in the shape of the Great Commonwealth of Kentucky!

It was just supposed to be exercise

2011-09-13T21:27:00.002-04:00

I have Parent Teacher conferences on Thursday.

After that, I get to sit in a meeting for another hour or more.

Shoot me in my head!

Tonight, I realized that some items I needed to deliver to friends, whom I was SUPPOSED to see on Thursday, had I not remembered that I had Parent Teacher conferences, wouldn't be delivered.

I had two choices. Teachers are big into choices. If I say it once, I say the following a million times a day:

"You have two choices. You can follow directions and reap the benefits. Or you can not follow directions and deal with the consequences."

It's amazing the number of students that choose the latter.

But I digress....

So, I had two choices ...

I could make my friends wait even though time is money where these particular items are concerned ... OR
I could walk the items over to Viv's house, who is a mutual friend and will be seeing both owners of items on Thursday.

This second choice seemed like a great idea because I could really shove some exercise into my already unforgiving schedule, and I would be getting this errand out of the way.

I LOVE being able to check off items on the TO DO LIST!

The only problem that I saw with this plan is that I would either have to cross a major highway to get from Point A to Point B ... or I'd have to travel a ped-way over top of the highway. I chose the ped-way, mainly because I had a vision of myself lumbering across the highway, tripping, falling in front of a Mack truck, and dying a horrific death while the guy "playing" the fake cardboard guitar for Little Caesar's at that particular intersection witnessed my untimely demise.

I've never walked the ped-way before ... many people had, and they all seemed pleased with the ease of getting from Point A to Point B. Why not, right?

Well, I will tell you why not!

First of all, the entire time it took me to cross the ped-way, I had a vision of my death as the cement and steel girder structure crumbled and fell to the busy highway below, where I would shriek to my death, bounced and flattened by one racing vehicle after another.

This is a gift, people, this thing I do in my head every single day ... envisioning my death. A gift, I tell you.

Once I got off the ped-way, though, and took a big whiff of the intoxicating sweetness of the honeysuckle that covered the area, I felt better ... that was until I realized that the honeysuckle COVERED the area ... on both sides ... and it was bushy and desolate and isolating ... and the entire 8 miles (that's what it felt like anyway) reminded me of at least 5 episodes of 48 Hours, wherein some single teacher, desperate for a little exercise and brain draining in the middle of her ridiculously over-scheduled day, dies a horrific death at the hands of the masked murderer/rapist/cannibal hiding in the aforementioned bushes.

A gift, I'm telling you.

I made it to Viv's house without a problem, and she assured me, after some giggling, that I should be alright retracing my steps. Easy for her to say. She's the proud owner of a giant horse-like creature commonly referred to as a Newfoundland dog. Indy would just as soon lick you to death, but he's quite the intimidating-looking fellow.

I decided that if I was going to be stupid enough to return the same treacherous route that I came, I would punch in 9-1-1 and just let my thumb rest on the call button. Just in case, you know, the masked murderer/rapist/cannibal decided to try again.

This plan was almost brilliantly executed thanks, in part, to the scary noises I heard behind me mid-way through my daunting walk to my impending death. I turned around and JUMPED, almost out of my own skin, when I saw a man on a bike, almost directly behind me. Granted, he was suited up for what looked like a cross-country bike trip, and I'm pretty sure he posed very little threat to my virtue. Still, the mere act of jumping caused my trigger-happy finger to come right up to the very precipice of a 9-1-1 dial, and I'm pretty certain that it wouldn't have ended well for me ... I had a vision of the SWAT team converging on the area, guns drawn, and much hullabaloo to have me "spread 'em" and "drop to the ground slowly" ... wherein, I've decided I shouldn't have watched that last COPS rerun ...

Memories ....

2011-09-11T10:15:00.001-04:00

Friday, I sat on my stool in front of my class, attempting valiantly, to hold it together while I explained to my students, most of whom weren't even born on September 11, 2001, why we were going to a commemoration ceremony down the street at our City Hall.

I had to explain to them about the emotions they might see ... the reason why we were even worrying about it 10 years later ... and the whole time, the memories of that day almost overwhelmed me.

I hadn't expected that. I mean, it has been 10 years. I've moved on ... by it's very nature, life moves on. But then one of my sweet, little fourth graders, ever the insightful darling, pointed out that "many people are still very haunted by that day."

She's right, of course. I've written about that day and my reactions to it here http://teachersworld.blogspot.com/2006/09/five-years-and-one-day-later.html and here http://teachersworld.blogspot.com/2007/09/apocalyptic_5857.html. We're all haunted ... haunted by the images and the Post-9/11 world we all live in.

We may move on, but I would say that those of us that sat glued to our televisions and radios and witnessed the horror of many, many lives lost ... we are the folks that will never forget. The nation was and continues to be haunted by the images of that day.

While I never lost any one in the four plane crashes that shook that day and the subsequent building collapses ... while I did not know any one that put thoughts of their own safety on hold to go into a burning skyscraper to save others, I join the collective mourning for a nation that will never be the same.

As I sat and tried to explain to a generation of kiddos that hasn't known anything other than terror alerts and The War of Terror ... as I sat and tried to explain how this was my new normal ... their only normal ... and how that new normal began with a sense of uncertainty ... a fear of the new unknowns, I was struck by the fact that, despite that day, despite the haunting images, the collective comes together today to reflect and remember, and we help to raise a new generation ... a generation that can learn from the events of the past, to pave the way for a new future, for an even brighter new normal.

September 11 | StoryCorps | Page 3

2011-09-10T21:33:00.000-04:00

September 11 | StoryCorps | Page 3

Listening to these precious stories of precious lives lost ...

For my Mother, who just LOVES spiders

2011-09-10T20:31:00.002-04:00

Based on my research (I looked this up on University of Kentucky's insect website, I believe this lovely lady is a type of Orb Weaver commonly called a Barn Spider.

How I Spent My Day ...

2011-09-09T18:16:00.000-04:00

http://www.wtvq.com/news/9575-steel-beam-from-world-trade-ctr-comes-to-frankfort

Our entire student body of Second Street School attended this ceremony today. Soooo moving. One of my kiddos said it best when she said, "You know, Miss Murray, there are so many people that are still haunted by this event."

Couldn't have said it better myself ...

My Journey to Weight Loss History

2011-09-07T19:35:00.003-04:00

Nothing says, "Why yes! I am paying to be in Weight Watchers," like a grocery cart with chocolate milk and frozen pizza.

Aaaaaahhhhh! Yes, Weight Watchers. I've said for a while now that I've not only fallen off the wagon, I've been run over by it. Now, I feel like I need to make a slight addendum to the statement. Not only was I run over by the Weight Watchers wagon, but I'm a mangled, mutilated, bloody pulp of my former self ... with bits and pieces scattered about the rutted road.

Yeah ... that bad.

So, this week, I declared the WALKER GIRL week. Come hell or high water, I was going to walk every, single night this week ... get moving and drop a pound or two.

And then came the monsoons ... or Remnants of Hurricane Lee ... or the next thing in a long line of things to spoil my attempts to be fit. It's as if the cosmos WANTS me fat and lumpy and covered in cellulite!

The plan tonight is to THINK of alternatives to getting some more aerobic exercise. That has to be good for a calorie or two, right?

SISTER MINE by Tawni O'Dell

2011-09-06T20:30:00.001-04:00

I first "met" Tawni O'Dell probably close to 12 or 15 years ago, when I read her book BACK ROADS. I talk to my students all the time about getting lost in a book ... that when you do get lost in a book, that is a good thing. No! It's a GREAT thing to get lost in a book.

As I get older and become a more sophisticated reader (whatever that means), I find it more and more difficult to lose myself in books. Tawni O'Dell's first step out, BACK ROADS, lost me hopelessly in the depraved plot. It was an amazing book, but not in the TO KILL A MOCKINGBIRD sort of way. To be sure, BACK ROADS was a book that left you speechless at the end ... that made you stop and say, "Wait a minute! Did I just read that!?" I was lost ...

Her writing is good and strong and believable and the furthest thing from contrived. And the thing that I like about O'Dell is that, with her subject matter, she is able to explain dysfunction in a way that makes the reader understand and, oftentimes, relate some how ... that environment often dictates dysfunction.

In the book SISTER MINE, O'Dell writes what she knows best, about the lives that are eeked out the shadow of a struggling mining town. I find this subject matter particularly interesting to me now, as I'm living in a state that names coal and the coal mining industry as its number one industry/natural resource. This book is a play on words as it deals with two sisters and the way their lives have unraveled in the shadow (redundant, I know, but necessary nonetheless) of sister mines that have wrecked so many of the lives that hang in a very tenuous balance. It's a book about the fragility of the human psyche as well as the strength of the human mind.

I loved, as always, how O'Dell manages to weave humor throughout the dark, deep crevices of human depravity, and helps the reader see that, despite the ugliness, hope does spring eternal.

I'm not going to say this is her best book ever. I hold to my word that BACK ROADS is my favorite Tawni O'Dell book. However, SISTER MINE is a good book, and one that is worth the read.

A Flashy Entrance into the Ampitheatre

2011-09-05T18:37:00.000-04:00

Please stand and pay your respects ... MY OLE KENTUCKY HOME

2011-09-05T15:45:00.000-04:00

Dixie Land

2011-09-05T15:43:00.000-04:00

Cornet and Cannons

2011-09-04T19:06:00.005-04:00

For those whose passions lie in Civil War history, and specifically, Civil War musical history, this weekend, in Frankfort, Kentucky, was your dream. It was a full weekend's nod to the Civil War's Sesquicentennial and the music that was birthed from the time period.

Because I LOVE music, and because I'm an 80-year old woman in a 39-year old body, I attempted to attend a few of the musical events. Today's event was an outdoor concert featuring all of the bands with a finale that bombs bursting in air and rockets red glare.

You could almost feel the surreal as old and new, past and present mixed together in one date and time.....

The Inadvertent Shoplifter

2011-09-03T19:01:00.002-04:00

My air conditioning decided to get very ill this weekend ... a holiday weekend ... a weekend in which I could incur massive amounts of unneeded charges because I've had the absolute gall to call a service man out on the aforementioned holiday weekend.

It happens to be approximately 100 and REALLY HOT degrees out right now! Combine that with the fact that my AC isn't working, and, well, I'm pretty sure I've killed A LOT of brain cells stewing in the heat.

I've done some things to make sure I've been cool today ... things like eating a PIG'S BRUNCH with my good friend, Elly, and her husband, John. Then I went to Kohl's and spent some Kohl's cash -- I picked up two birthday gifts too! My fatal error was going home to take a nap. That is where the Death of the Brain Cells really occurred. And, of course, the deal was sealed when I stood in the 100 and REALLY HOT degrees and witnessed Union and Confederate bands parade down St. Clair Mall this afternoon.

So, you can imagine that by the time I got to Pier 1 Imports, where I thought I'd try to cool down some more, I was not really firing on all cylinders. Quite honestly, I'm not entirely sure how many cylinders I have any more ... pretty sure I've killed a couple over the course of the years.

I've been meaning to get a plate hanger, and when I ran across them in Pier 1, I snatched one up. It was mounted on a heavy piece of cardboard, perfect for fanning oneself when one sweats even in the comfort of an air conditioned store.

I wandered every aisle, picked up most of the merchandise, and I drooled over all the fun fall decorations, all the while suffering through a nasty headache. When the pain got so bad, I decided to leave, still fanning myself, as I stepped out of the store and into the parking lot. It was only then that I realized I was still holding the plate hanger ... the one I hadn't paid for!

Had it not occurred to me then, I'm not entirely sure it when it might have occurred to me. In fact, I feel relatively confident that I might have awakened tomorrow morning and wondered when the plate had been hung on my wall!

Lazy Sunday Afternoon

2011-08-28T14:36:00.003-04:00

I think you see where this is heading, right?

Laughter is the BEST Medicine

2011-08-28T09:47:00.005-04:00

As I was attempting to do something creative (sic: taming it into place) with my hair this morning, I was reminded of a funny thing that happened over the summer while I was home visiting. I blogged about it here: http://teachersworld.blogspot.com/2011/07/finding-your-niche.html. I can't explain why I thought of this particular incident on that particular day while getting my hair "did," but it floated into my mind, and I have to tell you ... it made me smile ... even chuckle a bit. It also made me exceedingly thankful.

Thankful? For seeing an old, wrinkled, nekkid man (how we say it down in these parts)?

No! Not thankful for seeing an old, wrinkled, nekkid man! I'm thankful for the gift of laughter. I come from a long line of folks that love to laugh. Big goofs that love nothing better than to tell stories, and not just any stories, but stories that will make you howl. I come from a family of one-liners. Normal, educated individuals that are quicker with the one-liners than some of our best comedians.

And it doesn't really matter what sort of gathering or event it is, there is something to laugh about. There always is!

On July 4th, of all days, when we saw the old, nekkid man mowing his lawn ... in broad daylight, we laughed the rest of the day about that. Every ounce of conversation we had seem to revolve around that incident, and there was more than one time, one of us came close to wetting our pants ... for some of us, it's easier to come close to doing than others of us.

I'm blessed. I'm blessed that despite the circumstances, I can find the humor in life. It is the best medicine of all ...

In Honor of Football Season Commencing ...

2011-08-27T20:09:00.002-04:00

GO BRITS!!!

Okay, so it's not the approved Albion College purple. Trust me! I know this as I have wasted, literally, hours of my life I won't ever get back having very frank discussions about what is and is not Albion College Purple and Albion College Gold. Still, I've donned SOME sort of purple in honor of the Brits.

What's For Dinner

2011-08-27T17:44:00.006-04:00

I went to the grocery today and spent a RIDICULOUS amount of money on food and stuff. Therefore, whether I like to or not, I'm cooking my brains out from here and into the future -- and near and otherwise.

Here's what's for dinner tonight.....

Grilled Turkey Keilbasa and Tomato Basil Caprese Salad. The salad was A.M.A.Z.I.N.G.

Silence is Golden

2011-08-26T21:00:00.003-04:00

I believe I have been buried alive by fourth grade curriculum. Is there one of those necklace thingies that I can press the little red button and whimper, "Help me! I've slipped in my pile of teacher crap and I can't get up!"?

'cuz if there is such an item, and it can be mine with just three easy payments of $19.99, I'm there. I'm in ... I'm all in!

That's is, of course, the reason I've been so quiet around these here parts lately. I've slipped in a giant puddle of "work that is sure to bury me alive." I've sprained something vital. I've ripped something necessary. I've broken something very important ... compound fractured it, people!

Perhaps one day I will have a lifer preserver within reach ...

Spanx and My Disappearing Clothing: A special request

2011-08-09T20:22:00.006-04:00

I'm going to warn my readers now .... if you get embarrassed when some one mentions Spanx or underthings or other delicate subjects, you might want to turn away from this blog entry now. All of the above items will be discussed, and the blog will surely elicit the following response from my mother: "I really thought I raised her better than this."

And then when she turns to my father, she'll say: "This is all of your fault, you realize. I really did try to raise nice young ladies."

My coffee maker is set.

My outfit for tomorrow is laid out and ready to go, as are my "delicates" and a clean set of towels for tomorrow's shower.

My lunch is made. The kitchen is cleaned up. The cat has been fed. The laundry has been folded and put away.

So, I am able to finally sit down and wonder about the following question:

EVERYTHING has been, how do I put this delicately, riding up, well, ummm, there, all day long, and I've spent the better part of my day attempting to gently yank everything back into place. And I'm just thinking ... wondering really .... Is my rear end getting so big that it's actually eating my clothes? Perhaps it's getting so large, it's a being of its own making.

It's a question for some serious chewing considering when I pulled my Spanx out of the washing machine tonight, I discovered they had begun to unravel.

Perhaps, my rear end has reached proportions such that my clothes have called a meeting in the laundry hamper. They've voted, and they are ready to stage a coup ...

"We can no longer exist under such extreme conditions! We must be given a break from our day in and day out strain of fabric, or mark our words, WE WILL FRAY!"

And then a white sock will begin waving limply in a defeated but valiant manner, as the laundry whimpers in collective sing-song chorus, "We can no longer overcome ...."

These are the things that clog my brain matter while the rest of the world is looking for ways to solve world peace.

2011-08-08T20:29:00.000-04:00

So I *finally* finished a book that didn't have PhD level words peppered throughout it ... or discussed the appropriate strategies for working with a struggling reader ... or that had a specific deadline for finishing it up -- I refuse to consider a library's due date a deadline, clearly, as I've been harassed numerous times via email to BRING THE DING-DANG OVERDUE BOOKS BACK!

It took me ... are you ready for this? It took me the ENTIRE summer to read this book!

That's sad, isn't it?

Don't answer that.

I will answer it for you.

IT'S SAD!!!! SAD, SAD, SAD ... head-hanging, hand-wringing, sad. Pitiful.

I will say that it was A.) a busy summer

B.) a boring book

Okay, maybe not a completely boring book, but it was boring enough ... Okay, it was three quarters boring. The last quarter was very good. It was just the first three-fourths of the book that just about did me in.

But I was invested, and for whatever reason, I stuck with it .... until the bitter end. Except the end wasn't bitter; it was rather endearing.

See, the whole book centers around a series of letters. Well, I can write plainer than that. The entire plot is told through letters ... letters from the main character Juliet to her friends, to her boss, and to a group of people she's introduced to at the conclusion of World War II.

Juliet was a popular wartime columnist that wrote fluff, assumedly in an effort to lightened a pretty somber mood. So popular was the column that the best were compiled and published in book form that, while popular, was not something she ever intended to have happen. Juliet actually hates the fact that she's known for the wartime column and that those columns turned into a best-selling book. She searches out her next writing project, something that she wants to be substantive. It's in that search that she discovers a search book society on the English island of Guernsey, and she's thrust into the wartime horrors of these amazing people. The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society help Juliet find her way to a book subject that will move her and her readers. They help guide her way in life, and they help her find her way to love.

I think it's because the genre was written as a series of letters that first annoyed and bothered me. But I tend to find it bothersome when two authors share the writing duties of the same book. For whatever reason, I sense the incongruity of it all, and it doesn't settle with me. Call me crazy ...

However, the book itself has an endearing quality, and I believe that's what made me want to stay with it. Admittedly, I am glad I did. I ended up loving the characters in the literary society, and I was thrilled with how the plot evolved.

I'm not giving it a complete "thumbs up," but I'm not giving it a "thumbs down" either. It was a good book ... once you got past the boring first half ...

I'd suggest it as a read for those that like a little different spin on things.

The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society by Mary Ann Shaffer and Annie Barrows

A Letter to the General Public

2011-08-06T17:19:00.003-04:00

Dear Great Citizens of these United States,

I am a teacher. Crucify me; vilify me; or celebrate me. It doesn't matter. I am one of the few links between your child and their future. I am one of the cogs in a whole network of cogs that turn and grind together to help your child become the person he or she would like to be ...

I take great exception to the complaints about school supply lists ... the way I've decorated my room ... the way I choose to manage my classroom ... the way I choose to teach concepts to your child ... the homework (or lack thereof) that I might or might not assign to your child ... the tests I do or don't give ...

I take my job very seriously. Most days, I take it too seriously, to the detriment of my health, my personal life, and my social life -- which, let's face it, is pretty much non-existent. I must be very sick before I will take off from teaching your child, because I know that he or she is missing a day of instruction when I am not there. Thank goodness I don't have a child of my own! If I did, I would constantly feel guilty about not being with my sick child, because then your child will not be getting what he or she needs. When you're a teacher, you teach every one else's child to the detriment of your own child.

Lest you think I'm complaining, I'm not. I've chosen this profession ... it has chosen me. And for every single hair-pulling, scream-inducing day, I have ten that humble me to my very core.

I just wonder ... for all those people that are complaining ... complaining about test scores .... complaining about tenure ... complaining about having to buy stuff for their child's classroom ... I just wonder, have you talked to your child's teacher to see why they are asking for those items? Have you talked to your child's principal? Or the board?

You see, in most districts around the United States, district operating budgets have been slashed almost in half. Sometimes, more than half. Slashed seems like such a banal word ... raped. Our school budgets have been raped, and it's on the backs of your child and his or her friends. Your child's teacher will still work hard to make sure Little Johnny or Little Mia get what they need. They will take second, sometimes, third jobs. They will ignore their own families and friends to make sure your child knows what they need to know for the coming year. They will cut into their own, personal budgets to purchase the things your child will need for school ... to make your child comfortable while they are in their classrooms ... they will call on friends and family to help donate items for your child's education. All because teachers believe in the future ... their future ... our future.

Instead of cursing us for our supposed careless disregard for your income and lifestyle, perhaps it's time to talk with the folks that can do something about it, and whose decisions have, up to this point, been the entire cause for the fact that you find yourself out buying not only crayons and pencils this year, but now copy paper and hand sanitizer ... perhaps it's time to have a frank conversation with your legislator(s). They are the ones raping your child's education.

Until we, as a collective group of citizens ... of voters, are willing to storm our state capitols and Washington, D.C., and show them how angry we are, your state legislators, Republican and Democrats together, will continue to steal from Peter to pay Paul. How much longer can your child shoulder the lack of concern for education? How much longer can you shoulder the cost?

Let's put the blame where it really needs to go ... with the men and women that vote to cut education budgets. Please do not blame your child's teacher. Most understand the budget restraints you are under. We are under them as well.

Signed,

A Teacher

When the Sun Goes Down

2011-08-03T05:44:00.004-04:00

I often wonders what goes on in the life of my cat when the sun goes down. What goes on, for instance, when I fall asleep, and she leaves my bedroom to do ... well, see this is where the big question mark comes into play. What, exactly, is it that she does?

She will stay with me in my bedroom much like a parent of a toddler does ... just until I'm relaxed or just drifting off to sleep. Then, it's almost as if she thinks, "Okay, she's almost out. It's time!"

I'm relatively sure whatever it is she's thinking it's time for is stuff that, had I actually been up, would fall into the NAUGHTY category. Pretty sure ...

Back around Christmas time, my amazing college friend, Amy, came with her little guy Ronan for a quick visit. Amy being Amy, she came bearing gifts for both myself and Emmy. Emmy was the proud recipient of a pink mouse that I quickly dubbed Pinkie.

Pinkie is, by far, her FAVORITE toy ... EVER! She carts that thing ALL. OVER. THE. PLACE. Because of this, he's a disgusting gray color now, usually covered in cat hair and the random schmeg from where ever he's just been "hiding." I frequently find him in the basement. Not sure why ... I suppose he likes to hang out down there. It's cooler in the basement, you know.

This morning, I stumbled out of my bed, as per usual, headed for the kitchen, and punched the coffeemaker. I was getting stuff laid out and ready to go for my departure to school, when something on the dining room table caught my attention. It look suspiciously like a mouse.

I walked over to the table only to realize that the item ON. MY. DINING. ROOM. TABLE. was, in fact, Pinkie the Mouse. He was ON the table! Him and all his gray, slobbery disgustingness.

Just to be clear, he was not on the table when I went to bed. In fact, his owner, Emmy, knows SHE'S not suppose to be on the table ... ever. So why Pinkie managed to find himself on the table, I am not really sure.

But it certainly makes a person wonder what in the world DOES go on around here when the sun goes down ...

Overwhelmed

2011-08-02T19:56:00.003-04:00

I'm at that point in the day where I am so overwhelmed by all the STUFF (capital letter emphasis totally intended), that I just sit and stare off into space rather than actually get busy doing something ... anything.

Make a lunch

Make sure coffee maker is ready

Get clothes laid out for tomorrow

Retype unit plans

Write out weekly plans

Finish filling homework folders

Finish organizing student information

Finish ... finish ... finish ... finish ...

How is that it's only the second day of school, and I'm already stressed beyond belief? There's only like 17o days in a school year. So, by calculations, I've got approximately 168 days left of this feeling of being buried alive in hot, refuse-laden sand.

Awesome!

First Day of School

2011-08-01T21:03:00.003-04:00

Well, I know my sister is going to be disappointed, but no one marched into my room this morning, and led with, "Hey Miss Murray! Who cut you?" as they pointed at my thyroidectomy scar. That's Ann's favorite part of my whole year last year. That's life in these modern times.

No one compared how much their tennis shoes cost ... or their basketball jersey cost ... or where they got their new school clothes.

No, this year started off banally enough ... typically enough ... with my newly minted fourth graders stepping into my room with much fear and trepidation. You see, there is this "ugly" rumor floating around that Miss Murray is mean and nasty and ugly and mean and nasty ... and, well, you get my drift. They spend the first half of the day looking for the supposed wart on the end of my nose and wondering where I park my turbo-boosted broom.

I don't do much to dispel these rumors as it makes getting them whipped into shape that much easier on me. It's not so much that I'm mean as it is that I am just really strict. I want it done my way, and I want it done efficiently and with little disruption. I want my room running like a well-oiled machine, and I feel like, spending the little time fueling the WICKED WITCH OF THE NORTH rumors really helps me to get the well-oiled machine a lot quicker.

So, another first day of school is under my belt, and so begins the business of educating my kiddos. It's gonna be a great year; I can just feel it!

Murray's Magical Muggles

2011-07-31T21:50:00.005-04:00

The coffee maker is set ... my new dress is hanging, ready to go ... my Spanx are laid out (yes, I said Spanx -- must contain all my "stuff" seeing as first impressions are everything) .... a pretty crappy lunch is packed ....the cat has been fed .... my face is washed ... my teeth are brushed ... plans are as done as they will be ...

I guess the 2011-2012 school year can begin.

My tenth year ... somewhere in Lexington, my sister is chanting in a sing-songy voice, "YOU ARE OLD, YOU ARE OLD, YOU ARE OLD!" Despite that poor slip in judgement, she did quite a bit to help me get ready, inspiring me with my classroom theme MURRAY'S MAGICAL MUGGLES. Her Harry Potter glasses, magic wands, and amazing door design are amazing!

I think it turned out pretty dag-gone good, if I do say so myself. Okay, yes, I didn't do much creatively. I was relegated to scissor duty, after it was determined that I was hopeless when it came to fashioning pipe cleaner glasses. Well, I mean, I can't be perfect at EVERYTHING.

Despite my lack of a crafty gene, I'm here to say: "Here's to a magical year with loads of fun and lots of learning! I want my 10th year to be the best year yet!"

And thanks, Anniebee, for helping to get it started on the right foot! You're the craftiest!

Jinx

2011-07-22T21:38:00.003-04:00

You know those times in your life when you should just never, ever try?

Yeah, well, I had one of those times tonight.

A couple of days ago, I decided I would be a good sister and suggest keeping her car for the weekend while she was with some girlfriends. We made plans to ride to a neighboring town this evening after work to pick up her car.

Half way to our destination tonight, her car decided to get sick ... really sick. There was coughing ... there was hacking ... there was sputtering ... and a CHECK ENGINE light ... the kind that stays on and spells nothing but trouble.

Her plans weren't changing, however. She was still meeting her posse and heading on with the previously scheduled program. My plans, however, were radically changed, seeing as I was now soon to be stranded in a town 20 miles south of where I lived, in 100 degree heat, wearing heavy jean capris (because I'd planned on working indoors, in air conditioning all day, not hoofing it across two counties) and a too-tight tee shirt.

Ann's solution to the problem? "Call a friend."

Problem: Most of my friend's were out of town or unavailable. I called upon my friend Liz, who graciously dropped what she was doing to drive me to meet Ann in Frankfort in the first place. Liz hasn't lived here very long, and she's not necessarily sure of where she's going, because of her unfamiliarity of the area. To make matters much, much worse, her cell phone was dying, and she doesn't have a car charger. So, attempting a "talk her in" to my location would prove to be very tricky, indeed.

Despite those odds, Liz braved the high temps and the lack of geographical knowledge and headed to my rescue. Rescue, indeed, considering my sister was going ahead with her plans and leaving me stranded.

"Could you get your friends to drop me off at a restaurant so I can sit in the AC while I wait for Liz?"

Nope. According to Ann, they were on a tight schedule, and the inconvenience of driving me to a restaurant would make them have to go way out of their way. Instead, she suggested I just hoof it up the hill to the Doughdaddy/BP's next door, where I could treat myself to a doughnut (not on her), and wait there. Since I didn't have anything more than a dollar in my purse, I just sat there ...

Liz showed up, and as I got into the car, she said, "Do you hear that noise?"

I did. It was low, and gravelly, yet loud, and got worse as she increased the speed.

Again, I need to point out that her cell phone was on one bar, and now, MY cell phone was on one bar. And Liz's car is making all kinds of racket!

On a wing and a prayer, we made it back to Frankfort, wherein I announced that I was tired, hungry, grouchy, and no longer interested in completing the tasks I had waiting for me at school. I would go home ... only, as I walked toward my truck, I noticed a rather large, metal file jammed into my truck tire -- it had caused a two inch gash in the surface of the tire, and I could just imagine the flat I'd receive half way between the school parking lot and the nearest tire place, that I felt relatively sure would now be closed ... seeing as it was now 6:30 p.m.

I texted Carrie and said, "I'm calling a tow truck. He kept calling me honey and baby on the phone. If you don't hear from me again, tell the Frankfort Police ______ Towing Company."

I waited 25 minutes in the heat for the tow truck dude to come. He was very nice and was able to yank the piece of metal right out of my tire. "Just needs a plug, Baby."

He refused to let me pay him, and he was on his way.

Here's the kicker. I failed to text Carrie back, and so at 10 p.m., when she STILL hadn't heard from me, she was getting ready to Google the Frankfort Police Department and let them know that I was last in the company of a certain Towing Company.

Good gosh! The trouble I would have caused there!

All is well. I am home. And it's best if you just keep me away from all motorized vehicles for the foreseeable future.

Good vs. Evil

2011-07-20T18:11:00.008-04:00

Last weekend, I went to see the final installment to the Harry Potter movies, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part 2.

(photo from www.moviesblog.mtv.com)

It was A.M.A.Z.I.N.G.! Now, I am a firm believer in "books are always better than the movie." However, they put a lot of BANG into this last movie ... the Last Hurrah, so to speak.

The anticipation of the movie caused me to search the recesses of my mind and attempt to dredge up, when, exactly, it was that I picked up that first book. I VIVIDLY remember subbing in a second grade classroom at Sonoma Elementary School in Battle Creek, Michigan. I was days away from completing my student teaching, and the principal found herself with a sub shortage on her hands. So, I was asked to fill in. The teacher, Ms. Sears, had left the Harry Potter and the Sorceror's Stone and asked that I start to read it to the kiddos.

There had been such a media frenzy over this book -- I thought it was ridiculous. In fact, I think I even remember saying, "Nah, I don't think I will ever read those books. Too much hulliboo over it."

That was until I read the following passage and was hooked ...

"It was on the corner of the street that he noticed the first sign of something perculiar -- a cat reading a nap. For a second, Mr. Dursley didn't realize what he had seen -- then he jerked his head around to look again. There was a tabby cat standing on the corner of Privet Drive, but there wasn't a map in sight. What could he have been thinking of? It must have been a trick of the light. Mr. Dursley blinked and stared at the cat. It stared back. As Mr. Dursley drove around the corner and up the road, he watched the cat in his mirror. It was now reading the sign that said Privet Drive -- no, looking, at the sign; cats couldn't read maps or signs. Mr.Dursley gave himself a little shake and put the cat out of his mind. As he drove toward town he thought of nothing except a large order of drills he was hoping to get that day."

That is all I needed ... I was goner after that one, little paragraph! That was in 2001.

Here we are, in 2011, and I can still see where I was when I read certain books ... like the exact moment I read that Sirius Black had died. I was on the beach at Fort Custer Recreation Area Eagle Lake ... it was a sunny, hot, summer day, and the beach was full of people, and I had fallen in love with Sirius Black. So, when I read the passage ... read his death and Harry's reaction, I shouted, "NO!" Lots of stares from my sister and the other beach-goers, for sure!

I can remember buying Order of the Phoenix at a Barnes and Noble in Franklin, TN, after a HORRIBLE job interview ... never realizing the course of my life would change, both professionally and personally.

I read both The Half Blood Prince and The Deathly Hallows after I moved to Kentucky ... staying up late, late into the night in my little apartment, not wanting to put either of them down. I cried when Dumbledore died. And his funeral? It crushed me.

I cheered Neville Longbottom on ... I cheered them all on as they fought valiantly to defeat Lord Voldemort ... And I smiled when I got a peek into Harry, Hermione, and Ron's life 19 years after Hogwarts ...

I love to read, and you all know, I LOVE to write. I tell my fourth graders all the time, the mark of a great writer is when they can write characters that suck you into their worlds. JK Rowling did just that. I was a muggle in the world of Harry and Ron and Hermione, wishing desperately for a wand and the ability to use the expelliarmus charm in my everyday life.

Watching the movie, I was struck with just how much these characters have impacted our modern lives. Once again, it's a sign of just how amazing the writing talent of JK Rowling really is.

Mirror Image

2011-07-14T08:37:00.005-04:00

I'm calling myself out. I'm digging deep into my closet, pawing through all my skeletons, and I'm shedding light on them all. I mean, after all, I'm 39 AND a half years old. Isn't it about time that I drag out the skeletons, bury them deep, and let them rest in their own squalid peace?

It's vulnerability ... I'm laying myself bare in hopes that others may learn from my struggles.

I can't pinpoint when it all started, but as far back as I can remember, and admit it now .... I've had body image issues. Bad ones. Ugly ones.

Was it one person that planted the seed? Was it the media? Was it everyone? Who knows! But the seed was planted, and I've spent my ENTIRE life struggling to see my worth in the eyes of those that surround me on a daily basis ... both those that are close to me as well as those that I don't even know.

I find myself measuring myself against shallow standards, and it takes nothing more than a waif-like girl, sashaying past me in nothing more than a triangular piece of fabric and dental floss -- or well-meaning comment thrown out casually about my weight and food -- to toss me into a spiral of black thoughts that strips me of my fragile self-esteem, already dangling limply in the winds of "what's beautiful."

So what is beautiful?

In history, there are countless examples of the FAD of beauty.

Women and men that plucked their hairlines to make their foreheads seem higher ....
During the Elizabethan Age, Queen Elizabeth was quite the trend setter. Women, en mass, clamored for that pale, pale skin and red hair. Here's the thing, the powder was lead-based and poisoned many!
Men wore powdered wigs (WHAT!?!) ... again with the lead-based powder!
Women had GIGANTIC wig-like structures created that they wore on their heads. Some reached three feet tall. Unfortunately, these women weren't the only ones that thought these hair creations were all the rage. So did vermin! Can we say nasty, nasty diseases!?
Victorians swung the other way, down-playing makeup, slicking back hair, and valuing morally demure looks. They were pinched and stifled and lived miserable lives!
Roaring Twenties swung the other way, once again, shortening skirts and hair lengths. Very red lips and rouge were the looks of the day.

Thin, almost to the point of being ill ... no hips ... no boobs ... no curves of any kind ... slight features that fit neatly into body-hugging fabrics that skim over the boyish bodies ... pink skin, fresh and dewy ... does any of this sound familiar? It describes almost every, single girl you see on the covers of magazines and on the tabloid celebrity news shows these days... and it tells every woman out there one thing: HEY! THIS IS WHAT WE'RE VALUING RIGHT NOW -- WOMEN THAT LOOK LIKE THEY NEVER EMERGED FROM GIRLHOOD.

And you know what, they've excluded me and my curves and my stocky build ... they've excluded my acne-prone skin, and my big, can-not-be-contained boobs ... they've excluded everything that makes me, ME! To top it off, they've excluded every, single girl I know and love. And while we're on the subject of love, I love these girls, these sisters in life, NOT because of their bodies, but because of their brains! Because of their wit! Because of their resilience! Because of their ability to rock their worlds where ever they are! Dewy skin and lack of hips were never on my LIST OF THINGS TO LOOK FOR in these women I call FRIENDS.

I'm struck by the word EMERGE. I like the image of a caterpillar that weaves a cocoon and emerges a beautiful, delicate creature. Why can't little girls emerge from childhood, glistening in the beauty of being a woman? Women are multi-dimensional beings with amazing powers that can be used for good, and yet, each year, I watch fourth grade girls come and go through my classroom door frustrated by their "fat," very aware of their bodies in a very negative turn, and very unsure of how to use their bodies for good, positive ways. And, recently, I've realized that I have encouraged that by my very presence in the room, frustrated by my curves .... frustrated over my lack of waif-ness ... frustrated over my lack of self-confidence.

That's the real key, right there. Confidence.

By definition, (http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/confidence), CONFIDENCE is "full trust; belief in the powers, trustworthiness, or reliabilityof a person or thing/belief in oneself and one's powers or abilities; self-confidence; self-reliance; assurance."

I look at my reflection in the mirror, my friends, and at the girls I teach, and I don't see a lot of belief in oneself -- that makes me sad.

An article I read recently floored me further. The author stated true sexiness is in a woman's confidence. The author and a male friend had met another woman, a female friend of his, for a drink, and as the author wrote, both she and her male friend were mesmerized by this woman, this short, curvy woman that was soooo not at all his type, or any one's, just by looking at her. And yet, no in the bar could take their eyes off of her ... men tripped over her to buy her drinks. After she left, the author asked her male friend what this girl had ... what made her so doggone desirable.

This was his response (paraphrased here):

"She's sexy as hell, and it's because she is so confident ... I can't keep my eyes off of her, but I could never act on my feelings. She's waaay out of my league."

In my need to fit in ... in my quest to make myself The All-American Woman, I have lost my true self-confidence. The article was sobering for me, because I have spent most of my 20s and all of my 30s falsely convincing myself that I could never be what any man would want because I wasn't the picture of beauty that I was seeing. I blamed a lot of people for my lack of a dating life, when the only person I should have really pointed the finger at was/is me. I'm the one that bought into the lies ... I'm the one that allowed myself to internalize all of the "well-meaning" remarks about weight and food ... and I'm the one that slowly let my confidence slip through my fingers.

Surface beauty is fleeting. We all know the high school jock or IT boy that every girl longed to date ... or at the very least, be in the shadow of. Now, they are nothing more than an icky, middle-aged guy still reliving his high school hay-days in old tunes on Pandora and YouTube.

Inner beauty ... that kind that's infused with the confidence that comes from deep within, that's the beauty that lasts ... and is infectious ... and is attractive ... and is, to borrow that FANTASTIC phrase, sexy as hell!

I write this not as a cheap shot for some pity comments about how sad this all is. Rather, I write this, because, I want to grab that confidence and run with it. I'm casting off this surface beauty, and I'm looking for ways to celebrate the true beauty in myself, and the true beauty I see in the fabulous women around me! I invite others to do the same!

If we don't start celebrating TRUE BEAUTY, we will have yet another generation of little girls growing up, looking in their mirrors, and viewing a distorted mirror image. Celebrating TRUE BEAUTY means we stop the cycle. We celebrate our lumps and bumps and imperfections and find true joy in living a TRUE life.

Who's with me!?

Artwork

2011-07-11T12:26:00.005-04:00

I took a bunch of stuff home with me last week so my dad could frame them. As an aside, my dad has a framing and matting business as well as his wildlife photography. If you need something framed or matted, look him up! He does amazing work as you will see!

This first piece is one I commissioned a former student to do for me. Jacob will be a 7th grader this year, folks. 7th grade! Can you believe how good this kid is??? He's going places, I tell you!

Here' s another view of Jacob's piece. He's just uber talented, and I am so proud to have had the privilege to teach him!

This is a reprint of an original watercolor by Natalie Gillham, a pretty popular regional artist back home. She was commissioned to paint this on the occasion of Dr. and Mrs. Vulgamore's retirement as President and First Lady of Albion College. This building, the place I knew as North Hall, was renamed Vulgamore Hall. I can't remember why I got a reprint, but I've got one. I'm enjoying looking at it as I pass by it ... lots of memories in this old building.

Finally, this is a movie poster that I had to pay for in order for the movie place allow me to take the poster. I just LOVED this movie .... it impacted me when I saw it for the first time. I'm not sure if it was the era in which the movie was made or the what, but I was deeply moved by it.

I'd forgotten I'd had it until my dad uncovered it ... apparently, it was in his pile "to frame."

I love it as an art piece in my living room. Goes with the funky feel I seem to have going.

I've had to rearrange a few things here and there to accommodate these new pieces, but I love the overall effect!

Leila Arboretium

2011-07-10T21:35:00.003-04:00

Kellogg Bird Sanctuary

2011-07-10T21:19:00.004-04:00

2011-07-04T22:56:00.003-04:00

Here's what your kitchen looks like when you are getting ready to install an ice-maker!

Fireworks!

2011-07-04T22:45:00.002-04:00

South Haven, MI/Lake Michigan

2011-07-04T22:13:00.006-04:00

Finding your niche

2011-07-04T20:54:00.007-04:00

Today, I saw some gorgeous, glistening water ... I saw sun-burned skin ... I saw massive boats and a sea of humanity on the shore line ... I saw a full moon in broad daylight!

Yep! A full moon!

Apparently, there is something of a local legend in South Haven who loves nothing better than to sport a thong and run around his yard in it. Nothing but a thong ...

Near as I can tell from the research I've done, he's a bit of a performance artist.

That's fine.

To each their own.

I mean, if you want to wrap your dingus up in a sock-like cover all decked out in red, white, and blue, be my guest!

I just need to mention that I've now seen what gravity does to the human body, and it's not pretty ... or artful ... and I need to be scared ... very, very scared!

This has me wondering, though. There seems to be a whole market out there waiting to be tapped ... a Dingus Cover market! Knitters all over could be knitting Wee-Wee Cozies .... And I can see my motto now:

We've Got Your Dingus Covered!

Is this not brilliant?

Don't you see me making wads and wads of cash on this endeavor? I could travel the Nudist Camp circuit ... sorta like those Renaissance Fairs. I mean, I've got summers off, and starting next summer, I will have a lot of free time on my hands, what with my anticipated graduateschool completion. And I've always wanted to sock some money away (pun definitely NOT intended) for a fun beachy vacation.

This seems like a perfect plan .. way better than painting driftwood!

How does one begin a business plan on Socks for Your Dingaling?

Summer Vacation

2011-07-01T10:13:00.002-04:00

So. I'm midway through my summer vacation, and I'm depressed.

I feel like I've spent the first half of my time stressing about EVERYTHING.

Grad school assignments? STRESS!

Saying yes to waaaay too many things? STRESS!

Not enough good weather to do outdoor projects? STRESS!

Too much good weather to get outdoor projects done? STRESS!

Burying library books and forgetting about them? STRESS!

Not enough days in the week? STRESS!

Too many days in the week? STRESS!

Too many fire flies? STRESS!

Not enough fire flies? STRESS!

It's ridiculous, really .... all this stress. What did you do for your vacation? Oh nothing much ... just STRESSED!

Yeah, I'm putting a moratorium on stress. From now until August 1st, I am going to work to be cool as a cucumber!

Of course, I might need to be heavily sedated and put into a straight jacket ....

Week in review

2011-06-24T21:35:00.005-04:00

Whew! It's been a week.

Here's the short of it....

Many computer problems

Another lawn mowing session

Minor flower tending

Random tornado spawns

Dinner with friends

Birthday lunches

Birthday dinners

LOTS and LOTS of food

Food coma

Lowes visits galore ...

A plan of attack

A mental/emotional break-down

Pounds lost

Pounds gained

Here's the long of it ...

Monday:

Monday dawned bright and beautiful and full of opportunity. And then I remembered that I'd somehow managed to get wrangled into helping run a three-day conference ... and I still didn't have the presentations done ... or started ... and there was laundry piling up ... and grass growing ... and a bed that needed to be made ... and a cat demanding food ... and coffee to be made .... and so I stayed in bed much longer than I should have.

As I recall, Monday was spent wallowing in self-pity because, let's face it, isn't it always helpful and super productive to wallow in self-pity? And possibly, I did work on my graduate school assignment.

Tuesday:

Tuesday was the day that I decided I would stay home and be really, super productive. Well, actually, I was grounded due to taking my truck in for servicing. And then they forgot about me. And I had to call them at 4:25 p.m., and I had to be all, "Hey! So what's up with my truck?!" And they were all, "Oops! Yeah, it's done, and you need to come ASAP because we close at 5 p.m." And I was all, "HOLY CRAP!"

Thanks to Elly Gilbert for not only running her kids around, but me was well. Mine was the last vehicle checked out for the day, and my butt barely made it out the door as they were shutting off lights and computers and mechanical thingy-ma-bobs and locking the door behind me and stuff.

So, I got the graduate school assignment finished, and I did a fair amount of whining as well. Because, I mean, isn't it super helpful and productive to whine about your situation?

Oh! I had a break through on Monday -- so, of course, it's logical to mention this on Tuesday. I decided that I would formulate a plan to get to know Cute Appliance Dude. Oh, it's a crafty plan ... well, crafty for me. I will attach a slight warning to this plan in that it requires me to encourage my own laziness in the area of the kitchen, but hey! A girl must make sacrifices sometimes. The plan also involves me spending money ... in Lowes. My gosh! There is a marketing director out there just rubbing his/her hands together in a devilish way as they anticipate my next purchase in that store. There is a racket between the hardware stores of America and the Realtors of America. I'm convinced! This plan, finally, involves me just going for it and forgetting about fear. Grabbing the bull by the ... well, just grabbing the bull and running with it. Megan's on the prowl, boys. Watch out!

Wednesday:

This was the day I'd dreaded all week. I was in full whine mode on Wednesday because I was meeting with everyone involved in the aforementioned three-day conference. You remember the one? The ill-fated day that I said, "Sure, I'll do a little weekend workshop to learn how to use technology in the classroom," and then, nine months later, said, "WHOA!? What do you mean I'm planning a three-day conference!?" Yeah, that one. I hate failure ... have a irrational fear of it. I've just not felt comfortable with this whole thing, and I just didn't want to get there and be all, "Yeah, so I suck. My presentations suck. Work during summer break sucks. High gas prices suck, and the fact that I just paid nearly $5 for this frozen lemonade, Panera, that sucks!"

As it turns out, there was a bright spot to my afternoon. That bright spot came in the form of making a man I know squirm like a worm (shout out to Tabitha Wainscott for that one) after waltzing in with his big, bad self, and realizing that I knew that he knew that I knew .... it was both awkward and funny at the very same time!

One Panera frozen lemonade ... $3.00 more than its worth.
Making one cheating, lying turd squirm ... PRICELESS

Thursday:

I went to my classroom to do some work and discovered that my school building was FILLED to overflowing with Kentucky State Police trainees. I'm STILL bitter over the fact that NO ONE ... not one person ... called me to inform me of this. This is something for which I would have stopped the whining! It's a DEFINITE situation!

Now I realize, in my advanced age, that the great majority of those men are super close to jail bait for me. However ..

They are still nice to look at.

Their field training officers are closer to my age and just as yummy!

... which brings me to my next rambling story ... FTO came out with the recruits while I was talking to one of my colleagues. FTO was ripped and fit and good-looking and ... GRAY! Yep, ladies and gentlemen, that is the age range I'm looking at these days.... Gray! As Carrie informed me, "Gray is HOT!" Yes, it is, but it's still gray. Let's move on to Friday; I'm depressing myself.

Friday:

I spent the majority of the day in my truck running from meeting to meeting. But there were some fun parts throughout the day, namely celebrating ELLY GILBERT'S BIRTHDAY!!! We had lunch together AND dinner together. It was a great time, and once again, I am reminded of how blessed I am!

Here are some things that I've learned about myself today....

I've eaten WAAAAY too much today, and I will no longer need to eat the rest of the weekend.

Never wear white to a Japanese Hibachi Grill.

I have skills!! I can catch, with my mouth, pieces of chicken that the chef tosses at me with the spatula. Definite date night material, I am!

I LOVE ice cream cake!!!

I've eaten WAAAAY too much today, and I will no longer need to eat the rest of the weekend.

The week in review ... there you have it, folks. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to silently slip into a food coma ...

Crow's Feet

2011-06-21T10:27:00.004-04:00

In my mind, I am still 25 years old.

Really!

None of the years have passed ... I'm still 25 years old ... living in my first dive apartment .... dating a guy that has absolutely no clue who I am or what I really want in life, but who is fun ... surrounded by a group of friends that have a similar carefree lifestyle.

It's not that 1997 was all that amazing ... I mean Hansen's MMMBop was a popular song. A song that was titled MMMBop, folks! What the heck is an MMMBop anyway?!?

The summer I was 25 ... Summer of 1997 ...

Timothy McVeigh was found guilty for the Oklahoma City bombings and was sentenced to death.

The Red Wings won the Stanley Cup title that year (GO WINGS!!)

Mike Tyson got in big trouble for biting Holyfield's ear off ... eeew!

Hong Kong was returned to China.

Tony Blair was the youngest serving Prime Minister in the UK at the time.

I didn't remember all this stuff (my thanks to historyorb.com and history.com). No, I can't remember what I had for dinner last night. So, while I still FEEL 25, my body is telling me otherwise ...

There are the tiniest lines beginning to form around the corners of my eyes.

I have the same deep line forming between my eyes that my mom has.

I have more gray hairs shimmering in the sunlight these days.

And when I do the math, I've actually been out of college 17 years and out of high school a gasp-inducing 21 years!

I don't remember much about the Summer of 1997 ... except that I was trying to figure out what I was going to do with myself for the rest of my life. Not in a MILLION years would I have guessed I would land in Kentucky, living the best life ever!

25 or 39 .... I've decided that age is merely a number ... a number that means nothing except when it comes to senior citizens discounts and stuff.

So bring on the crow's feet. I will kick the crow's feet butts!

An Ode to Summer Break

2011-06-16T07:23:00.002-04:00

Summer Break! How I love thee? Let me count the ways!

Copious amounts of coffee on the deck in my jammies looooong into the morning.

Late nights, late mornings.

I can finally relax ... there's no real stress.

I can get to all the little projects that have been on hold for more than six months.

My house is cleaner.

I cook more -- and I plan to just that, and step outside of my cooking rut, too!

My dishes are usually done a lot more frequently.

I get to hang out with my cat, who doesn't really understand why I'm home all day and messing with her routine.

My laundry is done more efficiently.

My bed is made every day.

I can read more, and I intend to do so with gusto!

I can write more, and I intend to do so with gusto!

I can dream more, and I intend to do so with gusto!

I can explore more, and I intend to do so with gusto!

I can recailbrate and celebrate and reevaluate.

Ahhhh, Summer. How I do love thee!

Styrofoam cup grafitti

2011-06-15T21:37:00.002-04:00

Okay, so I had a bad attitude today. I will admit it. But when you ask a simple question, and you're treated like you are not a cooperative member of any team, well, a bad attitude forms.

To combat that attitude ... or maybe to encourage it, I decided to create some artistic renderings on the styrofoam cup I brought back from lunch.

Rendering #1 was a stick figure Me with a professional development (hereto and forever more known as PD) treadmarks across my stick figure chest.

Rendering #2 was stick figure Me with a PD arrow through my head.

Rendering #3 was stick figure Me underneath a PD house.

Yep, hip, hip hooray for the Official Start to Summer Break.

Time for some ME TIME and relaxation and distance ....

Ahhhhhhh!!!!!

Ahhhhh ....

2011-06-13T20:06:00.005-04:00

Summer break will OFFICIALLY start for me on Wednesday at 3 p.m. That's when all of the extraneous meetings we lovingly refer to as PD are complete.

This year has left me wondering about a lot of things. It has made me question a lot of things. But most of all, it's made me realize a lot of things.

I'm a work in progress, and I am hoping that as I continue the work ahead of me, I will be a better work of art for having made the commitment to do the work the next 6 weeks or so.

Be ready for some changes ... they are coming ... I hope!

Empower

2011-06-09T06:58:00.007-04:00

WARNING: Non-fluffy blog entry dead ahead.

Today, I'm pondering women ... we're suppose to be the fairer sex (whatever that means!) ... the glue that molds and shapes and keeps a family together. We're power-houses, doing it all and then some. We endure. We persevere ... we celebrate and mourn ... we nurture ... we nourish ... we teach and guide ... we are the emotional adhesive.

And yet, I'm befuddled by the notion that women spend a great majority of their time tearing each other down.

Broad generalization?

Perhaps, but it just seems for a gender that is STILL fighting for equality in the workforce despite the fact that we make up half of it, we continue to create an atmosphere that calls into a question a person's self-worth and self-esteem. Rather than celebrate each other, we really spend a great deal of time tearing people down.

I'm putting myself at the front of this line, ladies and gentlemen.

I've had, literally, a dozen conversations this week regarding this issue. THIS WEEK.

Timely?

YES!

Competition that encourages ugly treatment of others ...

Making cutting, underhanded comments about a person's performance, family life, lifestyle choices, etc...

Gossiping about people, typically assuming things that are not true, and yet spreading that foulness to others, despite the fact that "truth" isn't close to the real truth....

Reading too much into comments and ... OH MY ... Facebook statuses...

Going public on Facebook about stuff that one has assumed or read too much into...

I know that I'm not the best type of friend. When I get stressed, I insulate due to just being so overwhelmed. But I've been hugely convicted lately of how I react to my female sisterhood. I want to be the person that empowers. I don't want to tear any one down, like I've been torn down. To date, I've not been so successful.

We spend so much time using other's as measuring sticks ... infallible humans that make countless mistakes on a daily basis. My goal, from this point forward, is to avoid the gossip ... to avoid situation that would tear a fellow female down. My goal, from this point forward, is to play a vital role in empowering those women I come in contact with ...

My mantra that I will be repeating to myself each day is this:

"To be beautiful means to be yourself. You don't need to be accepted by others . You need to accept yourself."

Natasha Bedingfield - Strip Me

2011-06-07T22:39:00.000-04:00

Yeah ... so I lied ... THIS is my real, new theme song for my life. Take what you want, folks. Steal my pride, build me up, or cut me down to size. I'm only one voice in a million, but you ain't takin' that from me!

Fashion

2011-06-02T22:07:00.003-04:00

I am no fashionista. I mean, yes. I did, in fact, show up to school this morning in out-right rumpled khakis and a shirt with not one, but four visible stains on it.

Now, in my defense, I'd forgotten to treat those stains in the laundry the other day. Completely forgot I'd slopped something on the shirt in the first place. So, in the laundry it went, and, well, the hope of the stains ever coming out now are pretty slim.

The rumpled khakis?

Totally did that on purpose!

My mother is horrified, I know, but I'm willing to take a bullet for that team because I woke up CONVINCED it was Friday, and I've been in a foul mood ever since I found out the truth.

Yet, even with those fashion guffaws, I absolutely DID NOT go out in public wearing too tight Hello Kitty pajama bottoms with a thong (I'm sorry you had to read that ... I know. Your delicate constitution and all), a too tight cami with black bra waaaay too visible underneath, and hot pink Crocs. I mean, at least, I didn't go out looking like that. And at least I didn't shove an ENTIRE Twinkie in my mouth while sporting that outfit ... and let the end dangle precariously out of my mouth as I clomped across the parking lot. I mean, at least I didn't do that!

Growing up, when we went Up North on vacation, my mother packed us our Going to Town clothes. She was all about play clothes and letting us get them as grubby as we wanted. However, when it was time to go into town, we were to clean up and get into our Town Clothes.

I vividly remember ruining more than one Town outfit, the most memorable being plunking my bony little butt smack dab in the MIDDLE of a gigantic pool of pine sap. That hot mess doesn't come out of clothes. I know this, because my mother spent the rest of her summer trying ... when she wasn't openly cursing my name.

Then there was the time that I decided to sit on the top of my dad's lawn mower ... in my Town clothes. Lawn mower oil and grease don't come out of Town clothes either. I know this ... because my mother spent that summer trying ... when she wasn't openly cursing my name.

Okay, so maybe I didn't go out in public in too-tight Hello Kitty jammie bottoms. My mother would throw this out there:

"No! But I was the one dragging the gangly, hair-full-of-rat's-nests kid around with the sap stuck to her butt. Same thing in my book!"

Losing my mind

2011-06-02T10:04:00.002-04:00

I'm at that point ...

You know the one ...

The point at which, if something doesn't go my way, I will be going postal on the bag boy at Kroger for dropping my bananas on top of the loaf of bread while he discusses the wild and crazy night he had last night with the dude next to him.

I'm just sayin' ...

My brain has a limited amount of space for stress, and this space is NOT limitless like I used to think. No, no. This space is shrinking rapidly ... like a lot of things shrink when one gets older. I won't go into what those shrinking things are; it's not appropriate for mixed company. Let's just say, things are shrinking and leave it at that.

The stress has actually oozed into other portions of my body ... parts you don't want to know about ... and it's doing things .... things you don't want to know about.

I woke up this morning, convinced it was Friday, and I've been in a foul mood ever since the news anchors so rudely burst that bubble.

I need a vacation ... like I need air to breathe ... and water to drink.

I'm hanging on by a thread ... a very frayed thread ...

Visitors

2011-06-01T05:26:00.002-04:00

This dude, and about 11 of his closest friends and relatives, were/are hanging around on my living room and kitchen ceilings. What is he?

Americana

2011-05-30T20:05:00.001-04:00

Big Mike's

2011-05-30T19:55:00.004-04:00

If I was going to Mammoth Cave, I wasn't going to leave without visiting the TACKIEST tourist trap I could find. BIG MIKE'S didn't disappoint.

I would like to point out that no rocks that can be found to purchase at BIG MIKE'S were discovered in the depths of my travels through the Mammoth Cave system. Must have been in the Las Vegas Cave system that these were found, I guess.

I would also like to point out tacky items were purchased at BIG MIKE'S ... for my sister, Ann. She's going to LOVE it!

Miserable heat

2011-05-30T18:33:00.006-04:00

Emmy doesn't do well in this heat ... what with all that hair and stuff. I've seen her in various locations throughout the house that are cool: Bathroom floors, flagstone fireplace, basement floors, windows, under ceiling fans ...

No matter where I've found her, though, this is the pose she's had ... and she's moaned a little for effect each and every time.

Operation TAME THE BEAST will occur later on this week

2011-05-30T18:23:00.003-04:00

This is the next thing on the garden TO DO list ... taming the out of controlness here.

Operation KEEP IT FROM ERODING is now in full-on attack

2011-05-30T18:05:00.003-04:00

Mammoth Cave ... this is what it looks like on the outside

2011-05-30T17:35:00.004-04:00

Mammoth Cave ... this is what it looks like on the inside

2011-05-30T16:53:00.002-04:00

These signatures were made by smoke and soot. Cool, eh?!

And this is what it looked like in the cave with the lights off ...

People watching

2011-05-27T07:07:00.002-04:00

Maybe it's because the author in me is always looking for the story behind the story, but this morning, when I got behind the man in line at the Circle K, and I noticed what he had on the counter, my writer's mind went all crazy and buzzy and stuff. I was suddenly left with a strange desire to whip out my laptop and start writing.

His purchases:

2 cans of Red Bull

1 pack of Excedrin

1 pack of gum

1 small roll of Tums

He smelled like a stale cigarettes and dive bar, and he looked like he'd slept in his clothes -- his hair a salt and pepper, matted jumble of greasy morning-after locks. He can't afford to call in sick ONE MORE DAY -- what with the giant child support check he's got to write this weekend. So, he's self-medicating his way through the morning, and MAN! Does the Circle K clerk have to talk so loud? It hurts to even smile as she wishes him a good morning, in an annoyingly sing-songy way.

Which makes me wonder ... what does the rest of the world think when they see MY purchases:

A bottle of Fuji water

A 24 oz. cup of Almond Amaretto coffee

A Zone bar

A banana

She left a trailing scent of floral sweetness as her perfume wafted through the door. She looked put together: pressed khakis, crisp white tee shirt, navy blue jacket, sandals that allowed her perfectly manicured toe nails peek out, all pink and shiny. She stood quietly in line, waiting, unsmiling, her arms full of water and banana and Zone bar and coffee. Lots and lots of coffee. So unapproachable ... too put-together to be human. She even eats like she's perfect. And then, on closer inspection, visible clumps of cat hair cover those crisply pressed khakis ... and her jacket ... and her hair is sticking up in unruly, spikes, randomly. She's carrying extra weight too ... more than she should. Hmmmm... perhaps there is a hint of humanity there, under that untouchable exterior ...

You need to get married

2011-05-25T14:58:00.004-04:00

I got dating advice today ...

... from a fourth grader.

They are 10 years old, fourth graders are -- just in case you needed a little perspective.

Therefore, you can see where receiving dating advice from a fourth grader might be, how shall I put this delicately?

ONE OF THE CRAZIEST THINGS YOU'VE EVER HEARD!

The fourth grader told me I needed to date more men. I mean, after all, she'd "gone with" 100 since first grade.

Awesome!

If I could find 100 men that were actually decent .... and had a job .... and their own teeth .... and most of their own hair .... and didn't have a wheel barrow full of trouble that they drug behind them .... and had a plan ....

Well, wouldn't that be nice?

It's Monday ...

2011-05-23T15:04:00.005-04:00

Mondays suck ... other than when it's summertime, and you've got no where in particular that you have to be. Otherwise, Mondays suck.

This is what I look like on a Monday afternoon ... after the kiddos have left ...

This is what my room looks like after they leave ... after I've hounded them to pick all the nonsense up off the floor " 'cuz Mr. Murphy is not paid to pick up after us, nor am I!"

This is what the TEACHER ZONE looks like ALL the time. It's bad, I know. Somewhere in Michigan, my mother is horrified.

This explains why I immediately turn Pandora on to a soothing station and curl up in the fetal position underneath my work station, right?

Thank you, Ding Bats of America

2011-05-23T07:40:00.003-04:00

I saw a GIGANTIC houseboat, and by GIGANTIC, I mean, it could sleep 10 or 15 people easily ... huge ... the size of my house, HUGE. Anyway ...

I saw a GIGANTIC houseboat being towed by a tow truck yesterday. At the helm of the boat? Two rocket scientists ... their hair blowing in the breeze. Must be they were simulating being on the high seas?

I don't know. Call me crazy, but I'm relatively sure those two idiots are why I have 15 stickers on the new ladder I just bought ... warning me against all the bone-headed moves I might consider should I consume enough alcohol ... or am just plain that dumb.

Conversations that I had today...

2011-05-20T15:09:00.004-04:00

I'm not sure what sort of conversations you have in a day, but mine typically go something like this ...

"I'm sorry. Please remind me what my rule is when I am out in the hallway talking to A.) another adult or B.) dealing with a student issue? If there is no gushing blood or if your hair is not on fire, you need to stay in the room. Period. End of story."

"Please do not blow into a Kleenex once and then throw it away. That is such a waste."

"What do I do on the weekends? What everyone else does on the weekends. Why?"

"Do you know how old that song is [referring to the AXEL F on our KIDS DANCE PARTY here in the classroom]? It came out when I was in middle school, so, yeah, like a bazillion years old."

"Please stop touching that ["THAT" could be any number of items, most of them disgusting]."

"No, I do not know how to ride skateboard. Yes, I do know how to ride a bike."

"Yes, I dance. Teachers can dance."

"What does it feel like to get your eyebrows waxed? It kind of hurts."

"Who cooks my dinner? I do!"