New Job

Does anyone know the job I'm looking for? Returning to work today after a week off was something of a beating. I will describe my ideal job below:

• Should involve mostly working with men. Women are crazy and catty. They take too much time talking about stuff instead of just doing it. And worrying about people's feelings. Very time consuming.
• Ought to involve flexible hours. Ones in which I could, say, shop during off-peak hours or visit a pool.
• Should involve administrators, if necessary, who know what they're talking about. For instance, perhaps people who have done my job before.
• Should NOT involve putting bandaids on people. This is gross and unsanitary.
• Should NOT involve mountains of paperwork which are just shuffled around and do not serve actual purpose.
• Must involve sizeable paycheck. One not dependent on tax payers' money or bonds or the like.
• Should be a job that does not mandate me to watch the Bloodbourne Pathogens video or the United Way video each year. (and donate money under threat of peer pressure and public exposure)
• Must involve option to eat lunch. Away from desk. With adults. And real food. For more than 25 minutes so that one does not have to talk with mouth full in order to eat and converse during break.
• If tutoring or extra tasks, such as working a shift at ChickFilA or an art festival or a kickball game, are involved, I should be compensated for said tasks.
• Must have summer break and full Christmas (2 week) holiday.
• Would like to request use of restroom facilities when necessary. And preferably ones without possible contamination by fecal bandit. [refer to bloodbourne pathogens video]

So, what's that job? Did I just describe stripping?

Horrors!

So, I caught myself MOUTHING CHICAGO LYRICS IN PUBLIC today. Just pushing my cart and singing along to Chicago! "You bring meaning to my life...." [grab frozen peas, slight head bob to tune] Am I becoming one of those people? People who sing along to musak in the frozen foods aisle? What if I hum in elevators and I don't know it?

Bit of Advice

Check cayenne pepper before shaking it into your Thanksgiving dinner that you are preparing for your in-laws. It might contain weevils. That's all I'm going to say about that. http://www.doctorweevil.org/archives/000231.html

Foods I Refuse to Eat (for the record)

In the spirit of Thanksgiving and my husband who won't eat anything, I have carefully thought through my list of foods I simply won't eat. There are only 6 things on it, far fewer than what would be on Mike's. I don't think you earn the right to refuse to eat a food unless you've tried it.

1. green peppers (I want very much to like them. I keep trying, but I just can't)
2. radishes (blegh)
3. beef jerky (nasty concept)
4. collard greens (taste like mowed grass smells)
5. celery (strings, texture, taste)
6. cauliflower (it's white. a vegetable should not be white)

Opinions? Things you don't eat you'd like to share? I'm waiting with bated breath. (baited?)

Weird Texas News

Okay, I don't know what the deal is with Texas, but the most bizarre news events happen here. Everyday the newspaper is a surprise. (Well, not the actual newspaper, since I just blogged about how reliable the newspaper delivery service actually is) The newspaper content is never boring. I guess Texas has an edge on the weirdness, just based on sheer mass the odds are better for peculiar news, but sheesh! This morning I opened up my paper over breakfast to read about a lady in Plano, less than ten miles from where I live, who has been taken into custody for cutting off her baby's arms. Cutting off its arms!! So this has prompted me to once and for all create a comprehensive list of well-known Texas Calamities.

• Lady cuts off baby's arms
• Andrea Yates drowns five kids in bathtub
• Waco/Branch Dividians
• A & M Bonfire
• Kennedy's assassination
• Baby Jessica falls into well
• Space shuttle blowing up over east Texas
• Guy on top of UT tower who shot 16 people
• Crazy guy who pushed girlfriend off the top overpass of the George Bush Turnpike

What else? I know I've thought of more before...

A Doggie Dental

Today was a big day! Gus had his teeth cleaned for the first time! He was not alarmed by this idea until he realized that he had to fast from 10pm until his Procedure. Fasting is not in the vocabulary or cognitive understanding of a beagle. The morning was rough, he spent most of it clawing at the dog food closet and racing in circles around the house, pausing only to bark at the kids at the bus stop. Soon he was temporarily distracted with the offer of a Ride in the Car. (Said car being my new car, which has now been properly sullied by Gus.) He had renewed beagle enthusiasm about life [panting at window, racing back and forth on backseat as not to miss something, barking at birds] until we actually arrived at the vet. I could sense the mood shift when he realized where we were. His ears drooped and he dragged his feet on the way in and half-heartedly prodded the bags of expensive dog food for sale in the office with his nose. Then he was weighed and carted to the Dreaded Back Room for his procedure. He normally enters this room for his bi-monthly anal gland excretion, but that's another story entirely.
The best part of the day was when I picked him up at 3, still mostly sedated. Well, actually, he was as drunk as a skunk. He weaved his way to the car and then stood dumbly in the backseat, eyes glazed, mouth slightly agape. I bent his legs for him and seated him properly and he rode home the way I had always dreamed...sitting down and quiet. It was only when I got home that I realized that the contents had shifted during flight as he had tipped over and was drooling on my new door handle. At home things were about the same, he walked to the couch and looked at it, but couldn't figure out how to get up there. I placed him as I had in the car and he stayed there for about two hours, drooling on the towels I had put down.
He's much more awake now, doing well. His teeth are shiny white and his claws are trimmed. I'm sure it's a day he doesn't care to repeat for a while, but once he gets his dog food back in his life, it will all be forgotten.

Random Pondering for the Day

I am super-impressed by newspaper service. In an age of high-tech speed-driven people, the newspaper delivery method is really quite antiquated. The fact that they manage to deliver the Dallas Morning News to millions of driveways all over the Metroplex area before 6am is just mind-boggling to me. And this morning was the first time in 2 and a half years that we haven't gotten a paper. But when I called, they apologized profusely and had one on my doorstep within the hour! I was expecting them to just credit my account.
And who are these people? Have you ever known someone as an adult who delivers newspapers for their job? And who's the poor delivery guy who is still low on the totem pole who gets stuck with the apartment complexes? They have to run up and down all those stairs. And remember who gets a paper and who doesn't. In the dark!
This is definitely a job for my list of jobs I do not want, but I am impressed with the people who do it. They should do one of those Bud Light commercials for the newspaper delivery guy.

For Old Times' Sake...

From my first year or so of teaching when I was still learning the language...

While working with four little girls at school today:

"Ain't we fun to teach? You ought to teach all girls!" says Ashle. I explained to her that I had gone to an all women's college and that I thought teaching girls might be nice every once in a while.
"You went to college?! Oh, SNAP! She went to college!" She looked around the table in relative awe as she shared this revelation with her peers.
"Are you marry?!" They all leaned in to await my responses.
(Me, overwhelmed with questions) I shook my head yes to college, no to marriage.
"You ain't marry yet? You got any kids?" They all nodded eagerly at the logical question and looked to me once more.
Sigh. I shook my head again. I skipped over the kids-before-marriage debacle and started to tell them about a women's college and how it's fun to be at an all girl's school because you don't have to worry about how you look and you can go to class in your pajamas, etc. when I was interrupted amid my appealing description.
"Wait, you stayed there?" Child #1 asked with her brow furrowed in confusion. I paused, a little befuddled myself, and said that yes, I had attended all four years at the one school.
"NO, you stay there, doe?" she emphasized with a bang of her hand on the reading table. (I thought quickly, well, not anymore because clearly I graduated, and I'm teaching 4th grade here, as they can obviously see and...OH! She means I lived there! Lightbulb goes on!) I nodded vigorously, now thoroughly off topic but in sync with my students, and I enthusiastically explained the concepts of dorms, roommates, suitcases, and the like. My brief description was met with unexpected zest from 10 year olds who were struggling on a 2nd grade reading level.
"Yo! I'm goin' there! I'm going there!" Fists began to punch in the air accompanied by vigorous head nodding.
"Me too. I'm gonna stay there too!" the rest of my challenged readers echoed with fervor.

We took a quiet moment for this new knowledge to permeate. Taking advantage of the intense concentration, I took a breath to start talking about character development again, when....
"Hold up - you done high school too?" Four faces turned, stricken, to look at me.
Sigh.

Nah Nah Nah Boo Boo!

[Imagine sing-song quality to my voice here] I'm on Thanksgiving Brea-ak! I don't have to go to work for a weeee-ek!! Suckers! I told you my job had perks!

I like you as a freak show...

What does it really mean when people say, "I like ________ as a person" ??? I have always been troubled by this. Are we not all people? I'm confused.
I like so and so as a citizen? A freak show? A ballet dancer? I think it's a cop out.

A Suburban Legend: Children are Cute

Children are cute. To look at. And then they open their mouths and mess everything up. The following is a list of Things I Hear All Day Which Raise My Blood Pressure and Cause Things to Come Out of My Mouth Which Sound Like My Mother.

1. "Do we have to?"

• This is a serious request that is asked of me at least 10 times a day. As though random directions just spew from my mouth on the hour. Ones that I don't really mean. Just exercising my voice. For practice.
• The answer is: [ghastly stare]

2. "How long does it have to be?"

• This is another question which illustrates the lack of accountability in the kids today. It is usually asked in relation to a personal journal entry. It's their personal journal about their life! How should I know how long it should be? Long enough to avoid making me mad?
• The answer is: As long as it needs to be until it is finished. (This is a puzzler, they usually don't ask for a few more days while they're trying to 'cipher that one out.)
• ***Footnote: I got an answer to this at a writing workshop I went to on Thursday. The response should be like a girl's skirt: Short enough to be interesting, but long enough to cover the topic. Silly me.

3. "Why?"

• And they're serious. I give a direction and they ask why. And then I stare at them until they grow uncomfortable and break eye contact. Then their buddy punches them in the arm and says, "SSsshhh! Just do it!" and tugs them out of my reach.
• The answer is: [uplifted chin, slightly squinted puzzled eyes, bemused expression, furrowed brow]

4. "I didn't do it!"

• This is one of my personal favorites, because it's generally preceded by an entire table of kids covering their noses with their shirt collars and pointing at the suspect.
• The answer is: Nothing. Just giggle to self that you have pulled off yet another cropdusting and blamed it on the kids. (I've got to have some job perks.)

5. "I've got two things."

• This should have probably been number one on this list. Nothing makes my blood pressure shoot through the roof more than when I'm trying to get an answer from the class and a kid wastes five precious seconds that I don't have to smugly tell me that "they've got two things."
• The answer is: "Aw! That's too bad! I'm looking for someone with one" or "Pick your favorite."

6. "What if...."

• "What if" is always followed by some inane possibility weakly linked to the topic at hand. This question, if answered, spurs 10-12 other "what if" situations.
• The answer is: "I don't do what ifs."

7. "I forgot." [shrug]

• No worries. Just "I forgot." I forgot my homework, book project, pencil...all the same level of concern. I forgot. No big deal.
• The answer is: "I forgot you had recess this week."
• Sidenote: If you don't know, my district doesn't have grades, so recess is all I've got. That's another diatribe for another day.

8. "You didn't give me one."

• This bad boy always comes on Friday mornings when homework is due. Not on Monday, when homework was handed out. Not on Monday when they copied their assignments from the board and realized they didn't have a copy. Not Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, or Thursday when they could have gone to the "extras" box in which I keep 10 extra copies of everything I pass out. Friday. When they honestly believe in their hearts that I'm going to take responsibility for the fact that they're a complete idiot.
• The answer is: Always step into the hallway and take deep breaths. Consult with nearby colleague for soothing counseling before re-entering. Take recess away from student. Again. Recess - that's all I've got. Remind me to tell you the one about the kid whose mom wrote a note saying we couldn't take his recess...I don't have time right now.

New Ride!

So...I'm wondering if buying a car is as ridiculous in other civilized nations as it is here. First off, why can't dealers/manufacturers just set a price and stick to it? Why must we play the invoice/MSRP/TMV (true market value, I learned) game? Buying a car is like a sport. You go in with strategy and come out sweaty and exhausted. These are my concerns.
Okay, you start with price. You spend two hours haggling and "dickering" with the salesguy, who spends most of his time trying to reveal to you exactly how much agony you're putting him through each time he has to go back to the Great and Powerful Oz (sweaty guy in back who accepts or denies your price request). You settle at last on a price that is slightly over invoice, which is what the car should cost in the first place, but we must go through this little game.
Oh! And dealer add-ons! Dealer add-ons! The allegedly irremovable additions by the dealer to the vehicle. Such as floor mats. Are floor mats seriously negotiable? Really? Does anyone have a car lacking floor mats? Sigh.
At last it's over and you kick back in relief and shake several hands and accept many congratulations (reminds me of the ritual at the end of little kids' sports games - "good game, good game, good game...")
Just when you're all nice and settled, here comes the Customer Care Representative. They name her something non-threatening and then catch you when your guard is down. This is when they start trying to make more money on top of the exorbitant amount you have already agreed to. Front window tint? $199. Interior sealant protection? Just $299. Exterior sealant protection? $299. All three? A mere $799! And she'll be happy just to roll that into your payments for you! And tie that on to your 6.25% sales tax and 4.12% interest! All for you! [cheeky grin, firm eye blink] When you politely decline, you are of course a colossal imbecile. Ding!
Moving onto Round 3: The Financing Office. It is now 11:30 pm. As in, at night. All we need is to give her our down payment, get the payments all set up, get the keys and vamoose. Unfortunately, this is the stage at which they begin to offer you warranty extensions. Then Lo Jack car retrieval protection. And on and on and on. The extended warranty covers anything that could feasibly happen to your car in 7 years. Excluding dings, cup holders, and those wretched floor mats. The dings, because they are the only thing likely to actually happen to your car, the cup holders, because that was all they could think of not to cover and the floor mats, because they were clearly not part of the vehicle, but a dealer add-on and you previously snubbed them by not accepting their $299 Scotch Gard treatment.
Lucky for us, the finance chick was trying to make last call and offered us the 7 year extended warranty including hotel rooms, rental cars and probably a day at Six Flags for a mere $875 and no deductible. Whew! We really cut a deal! We are smooth operators! We are...are....adding $875 to our car loan. We've been had.

Blogone

Grrrr! I was all posting happily about my fun new car and then Whabam! No post. Just a Page Not Found message and a Ginny is Mad face. My cute little blog was all gone. Blogone.

It's Winter!

So, Texas is the weirdest place I have ever lived. Aside from the large blond hair and the boots and the nonchalant attitude about plastic surgery, I am continuously bewildered by the weather. There are only two seasons here, summer and winter. It was summer until about two weeks ago when suddenly the temperature dropped in one day from the 80's to the 40's. And then it was winter. All the leaves gave up their posts and just fell off. No yellow/red/orange foliage to marvel at, they just fell off. The hot dry breezes of summer were instantly replaced with these angry prairie winds that just blow right through you if you're, say, on a playground with no protection. [I mean neither coat, nor weapon - see previous post.] And then it is cold.
Texas is an ugly place to begin with, but when everything turns brown and the leaves of the short stumpy trees fall off, what's left? It's like a massive barren wasteland. A wasteland full of fancy cars driven by people with excessive plastic surgery and hair dye. Maybe since the land is so ugly, the people feel the urge to pretty themselves up and surround themselves with expensive things that they can't afford? Hmmm...life in the suburbs. Brrrr.

Lockdown Procedures

So...yesterday we had a one hour staff meeting primarily focused on lockdown procedures in our school district. Up until now, we have always practiced our lockdown drill by cramming 9 classes of 4th and 5th graders into our science lab (the only room with a door on our hall) and just sitting really still. (lol)
Now we have new procedures. For the new procedures, we are to do the following in the case of an armed and dangerous intruder IN our building.
1. Huddle our students on the wall closest to the hallway. We have no doors, so we just hide in a corner. Hopefully, bad guys aren't good at hide and seek.
2. Close the blinds. We have no door, but those blinds are shut, buddy. Maybe making it darker makes it harder for the bad guy to find us. It raises the bar on the hide and seek "strategery."
3. One teacher closes the doors at the end of the hallway to seal us into safety. (Unless said bad guy is on our hall, in which case we're up the creek)
4. We locate our light blue and light green index cards (provided free of charge by the police dept). If anyone is hurt, we write that on the light blue card and walk down the hall (suspect still at large, kids still stashed in corner) down the hall and slip that little note under the door for the SWAT team. If they're okay, we slip the light green one. If there's a green card, the SWAT team knows to go on. Notice that there are teachers just strolling about the halls during this calamity.
5. Once back in our darkened rooms, we are to sit with our (calm, silent) children in the corner and under no circumstances are we to make a phone call. They might be calling us with special instructions. Because the ringing and answering of a phone probably wouldn't clue the criminal in on where we were cleverly concealed.

• Note: I asked the police officer why we didn't use red and green cards [stop? go?] and forego the writing and he stated that the red cards might cause the children to be alarmed. The hiding in the corner from the psychopath with the gun wouldn't cause any permanent damage, but that red card might really put them over the edge.

Next, the officer brought up the fact that there's always a chance that a suspect would pull a fire alarm to try to extract people from their secret hiding places. So in that case, we're just supposed to make a judgment call on whether to flee or hide. What's a teacher to do? I'll be on the phone trying to figure out where my pastel index cards are.

My Job

Today I cruised by my desk on my way to read with a group of kids and the subject line "bathroom antics" happened to catch my eye. Now, last year our school was threatened by a fecal bandit who would leave cryptic messages on the walls in feces. A few covert operations and some heavy reconnaissance led us to our Dookie Delinquent, a fourth grader of course. So for this to be starting up again was quite a surprise. I suspect that few other people receive emails like this one...
Team-
We have begun to see restroom antics again....no (number two:)) artistsas of date, but other things....grafitti, broken objects, general unkemptness...and then we did have a report of a pair of male underwear being seen and flushed down the toilet....that's a scary thought I know..to imagine how they got there, but..............Bottom line.....please monitor the use of the restrooms as much as possible.
Now, I realize that it's hard to ignore the overuse of elipses that my principal enjoys, but the essence of the message is really quite entertaining.
There are some advantages to my job, despite the many disadvantages.
Pros:

• It's never boring
• Summer
• Spring Break
• Thanksgiving Break
• Christmas Break
• Teacher presents
• Hugs all day long
• Don't have to sit in a cube or in front of a computer
• Kids are funny and good material for stories

Cons:

• Can't pee all day
• 25 minutes for lunch, no going out
• Tutoring before or after work without pay
• Buying many of your own materials
• Kids and parents have no accountability
• State tests/district assessments all the time
• Have to deal with things like the Superflously Hormoned One (see previous story: Whack A Mole) stage whispering things to me all day like, "I need a PAD! Oooops!" while she points to her chair.
• Full time perky expectation from 8-4
• Can't run errands or go to doctor's appointments during day. Must take half day.
• Can't just take a day off - must write out instructions for sub to carry out entire day in your absence, then do clean up for half a day when you return.

Jobs

Jobs I Don't Want:

• tollbooth operator
• septic tank emptier
• pet anal gland squeezer
• dental hygienist (teeth give me the willies)
• port-a-john cleaner
• ride safety tester at traveling fairs
• one of the idiots who works for our HOA
• freezer stocker at the grocery store who wears gloves even in summer
• school janitor with the orange puke powder
• school bus driver

Jobs I Do Want:

• the photographer that rides on the machines that go up and down the football field during a game
• fire truck driver
• DJ in charge of 80's music and lights at a skating rink
• the little old lady who reads books to children at the library
• the old, old, old wrinkled up, but nicely tanned prune lady with white hair, a sun hat, and deeply creased crinkly cleavage who walks on the beach at sunrise picking up all the "good" shells. Then she goes back to her beach house and drinks Coke and eats Nabs on the porch.
• the person who decides which "new" words go in the dictionary

Gus the Wonder Beagle

Antics of Gus the Beagle

Gus woke up this morning with an energy unrivaled by even a fourth grader with a can of Surge...make that crack cocaine. He tore through the house like a tornado hurtling across a prairie and skidded to a stop at the foot of my bed at 6:36am. After a directly vertical leap from the floor to the small of my (sleeping) back, Gus spun himself into three frantic circles and threw himself beside my now-awakened form on the bed. He remained frozen as a statue for about 30 seconds as he stared into my face panting puppy chow breath at close range. I think he was smiling.
Thoroughly unamused by me, Gus tore off the bed and out of the bedroom in a black streak which made not one, but two complete laps around the house at full speed before returning to my side as though to say, "Get up! I'm ready for my day!" When he began nosing my arm with his cold wet nose, I dragged myself out of bed and let Gus outside to go play with the birds and other important things. I was just about to step into the shower when I heard, "OWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! OWOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" This is not your average howl. This is Gus' "I've found a scent that needs dealing with" howl. The "Something with scent had the nerve to walk on MY yard" howl. It is long lasting and ear piercing. It has been scientifically proven that it is impossible to sleep through this noise.
Since the homeowners association is already concerned about my garden, I threw on my bathrobe and raced into the backyard to begin chasing the Baying Beast around the grass. The last thing I need it neighbor complaints. I looked down at myself. I was in the YARD in a bathrobe. Who does that?? I was becoming that person that people peek out their windows to stare at. Shrugged shoulders and resumed task at hand. Began to chase Gus. Stopped to tighten robe. Resumed chasing Gus. Caught Gus. Beat Gus. Put Gus in house. Went to continue shower. Upon completion of my shower, I opened the door to find Gus waiting just on the other side looking sad and....quiet? Something was definitely wrong. With Gus dragging dutifully behind me, I began my systematic search of the house.
Beds? Pillows in place, blankets okay. Remotes and phones? Still in place, no new gnaw marks. Carpets? No new holes. Plants? Relatively unmussed, dirt in pots. Pens? In holder. Everything looked okay. I turned back to Gus who had now laid miserably on the carpet with his head resting on his paws, back legs outstretched, big brown eyes looking mournfully at me. His long ears crumpled on the floor and his tail tried to wag weakly. I followed his gaze to the doorway. Lying on the floor was what had been a brand new loaf of bread thawing on the counter the night before. What remained was carnage. Torn plastic and about 5 pieces of mangled bread.
I looked back at Gus whose tail was now thumping proudly on the floor and realized how round he had become. He looks like a black furry sausage link. The dog was full of bread. Mrs. Baird's Extra Thin White Bread. Most of a loaf. Needless to say, Gus hasn't had a lot of activity today. He waddled outside for a bit and flopped on his bloated side in the sun. I hastily made him come back in...doesn't yeast expand in heat? I didn't want to see bursted beagle. After walking through the door, he promptly had the audacity to beg for a treat. Not gonna happen, buddy.

Accountability Question

What do parents think they are going to accomplish by enabling their children? Lying for their children? Doing their kids homework, then telling the teacher emphatically how hard the child worked on it? Just a thought. Thought for the day.

Check me out!

Look at me! I made a blog! Now I can write whatever I want and you are choosing to read it. What should I write about? (I sound like my students.)