I am officially old. I felt old when I paid my first bills, when I graduated from college, and certainly when I got married. Still, I have never felt older than I did last night.
I went to a knitting club.
To be fair, I didn't WANT to go to the knitting club. My sister-in-law more or less dragged me to it. We had plans to go out for coffee after her little brother's basketball game, but her grandma invited us to her church knitting club and Michelle signed us up. She then INFORMED me that we were going to knitting club, and her grandma was all excited that we were going so I didn't really have a choice in the matter. Now, I was under the impression that there are certain prerequisites of joining a knitting club. Namely:
1. You must be over 65
2. You must have at least one grandchild
3. You must know how to knit
I was zero for three. Yet somehow I found myself on my way to knitting club.
When we arrived at the church, we walked into the nursery and found the knitting club: fifteen or twenty ladies who, at my best estimate, fit all of the three aforementioned prerequisites of being in a knitting club.
We began by going around the circle and "talking about ourselves," which turned out to be "share how many grandchildren/great-grandchildren you have." I informed everyone that I have no grandchildren, but I do have thirty children. I hastily explained my teaching situation, and the shocked/disgusted looks subsided.
After our intros, we started in on the knitting portion of the evening. We pretty much knitted for two hours straight, except for when Michelle and I took a break in the middle for cookies and coffee. Apparently the ladies have those snacks at all of their club meetings. I do not like coffee, but I did take a cookie. Here was my confusion: the cookie tasted like a chalk/sawdust mix with dirt clods instead of chocolate chips. I was in a ROOM FULL OF GRANDMAS. Aren't their cookies supposed to be delicious?!?! I guess this particular group spent all of their time learning how to knit and not enough time learning how to bake.
They SURE DID know how to knit, though!! Michelle's grandma was knitting a mitten and using FOUR knitting needles at the same time! I watched her do it, and I am still not sure how that is possible. SHE ONLY HAS TWO HANDS. The woman sitting on the other side of me was using circular knitting needles. (!) What are THOSE for? Who even THOUGHT of those?? Basically, these women were knitting masterminds. Michelle's attempt at teaching me how to knit a green potholder resulted in a sad tangle of yarn that sort of resembles astroturf. LOOK, GRANDMA! I MADE ASTROTURF!
I was very skeptical about attending this club at first, but it ended up being pretty fun. I might consider going back someday...but I am definitely bringing my own cookies.
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
Return to The Watershed
Do you remember The Watershed? It is the bar that I blogged about in my previous post titled "Cougars." My dad read that post and decided that he MUST join in on the fun. He really wanted to experience this bar for himself to see whether or not I was fabricating my crazy stories.
Needless to say, I was not fabricating any of my stories. The Watershed is insane.
My parents decided to ditch me and go to Miami for Christmas, but they came up to Lansing the week before Christmas in order to celebrate with Rex and I there. It ended up being one of the most fun weekends of the whole semester - we had a great time. On Saturday night, after opening presents, Rex and my dad and I decided to go out to the Watershed.
We walked in and there was no music playing. All my stories of crazy grinding fifty-somethings were looking a little weak. I began to get nervous that the Watershed wasn't going to be as crazy this time, and my dad was going to think that I embellished the craziness for my blog (which I SO did not). I should not have worried. The Watershed fully delivered.
When we walked a little but further into the bar, I realized that the reason there was no music playing was because a band was setting up near the dance floor. I figured this was a good sign. The three of us walked over to the bar so my dad could order some drinks for us. Right as we walked up, a hugely fat man with approximately half of his teeth stumbled out of the bathroom. Right behind him was another man holding Fatso's hands behind his back. Fatso walked eerily close to me and slurred, "Hey Barbie" before being led away by the sober-er guy standing behind him. After watching them for a minute with equal parts curiosity and disgust, we turned back to the bar. Big letters on the mirror behind the bar shouted, "SATURDAY NIGHT: SEX WITH EXES!!!" The three of us exchanged glances to see if anyone in our party knew what that meant. No one did.
We got our drinks and sat down in a corner booth so we could have an optimum people watching position. These were some of the highlights:
1. My dad turned to us and whispered urgently, "GUYS! Do you see that chick over there? The one in the red top? She is TOTALLY checking me out." We laughed awkwardly at my dad being checked out while out with his children, but he seemed proud that, at almost 54, he's still "got it." The jury is out on whether or not she was actually checking him out, but he is sure she was. He leaned back in the booth, sighed smugly and said, "Yep yep. She is eyein' the Dan Man." Someone please tell me I was adopted. I cannot be related to him.
2. You know how in a lot of high school movies there is a huge party and then there is some awkward couple making out in a corner? Well, that couple apparently grew up and now hangs out at The Watershed. A couple who was easily as old as my parents was sitting in a corner booth opposite of ours. She was sitting on his lap, and they were making out like stereotypical teenagers in post-prom heat. Um....ew. I'm not sure at what age you are too old to make out anymore, but they were past it.
3. Goth Girl was sitting at a center table with a very scared looking date. You would be scared too if you were dating Goth Girl. She was wearing creepy black clothes and even creepier make-up that made her eyes look like a raccoon's. The man with her looked pretty normal, and I couldn't help wondering if Goth Girl looked normal when he asked her out, but then put on her "going out" clothes and is now scary. I don't blame him for looking freaked out - by the creepy way she was looking at him I suspect he may have become a human sacrifice by the end of the night.
4. Finally the lead singer got up to introduce her band. I think she was really pretty for a middle-aged woman, but I can't be sure because I couldn't tear my eyes off of the disaster-waiting-to-happen that was her cleavage. I give it a 75% chance that her boobs fell out of her shirt by the end of the night. The black spandex of her top was working WAY to hard to keep 'em covered. She took the microphone and said, "Hello Watershed!!! We are Sex with Exes, and we are ready to play for you!" Rex, my dad, and I shared a look of new understanding about the "Sex with Exes" sign. But might I say, at what band meeting was that approved as the BEST name they could come up with!?!?!?
Sex with Exes was...um...how do I say this nicely?...not good. They seemed like a high school band that was really cool in high school, but then all of their peers grew up, went to college, and started real careers while Sex with Exes is still trying to make it. They are playing at a dive bar in Haslett, so obviously they haven't "made it" too far yet. Their music wasn't super, and the main problem was that it was SO LOUD. Loud as in take your ipod, turn it up to the highest possible volume level, and stick the earphones in your ears. Then imagine a sound about ten decibals louder. It was an instant headache for all involved. The dance floor cleared pretty quickly because the sound waves blasted everyone away. There was one brave guy, we nicknamed him "Huggy Man," who really wanted to dance so he would go up to his friends and hug them while rhythmically bouncing up and down. Note to Huggy Man: that's not dancing. It's just being weird.
Sadly, we had to leave shortly after Sex with Exes started playing. The hearing loss just wasn't worth it. My dad was impressed with the amount of craziness at The Watershed, though, and I was glad that my blog was proven true. If any of you want to challenge its validity again, I will gladly go back to The Watershed with you to let you see this for yourself. :-)
Needless to say, I was not fabricating any of my stories. The Watershed is insane.
My parents decided to ditch me and go to Miami for Christmas, but they came up to Lansing the week before Christmas in order to celebrate with Rex and I there. It ended up being one of the most fun weekends of the whole semester - we had a great time. On Saturday night, after opening presents, Rex and my dad and I decided to go out to the Watershed.
We walked in and there was no music playing. All my stories of crazy grinding fifty-somethings were looking a little weak. I began to get nervous that the Watershed wasn't going to be as crazy this time, and my dad was going to think that I embellished the craziness for my blog (which I SO did not). I should not have worried. The Watershed fully delivered.
When we walked a little but further into the bar, I realized that the reason there was no music playing was because a band was setting up near the dance floor. I figured this was a good sign. The three of us walked over to the bar so my dad could order some drinks for us. Right as we walked up, a hugely fat man with approximately half of his teeth stumbled out of the bathroom. Right behind him was another man holding Fatso's hands behind his back. Fatso walked eerily close to me and slurred, "Hey Barbie" before being led away by the sober-er guy standing behind him. After watching them for a minute with equal parts curiosity and disgust, we turned back to the bar. Big letters on the mirror behind the bar shouted, "SATURDAY NIGHT: SEX WITH EXES!!!" The three of us exchanged glances to see if anyone in our party knew what that meant. No one did.
We got our drinks and sat down in a corner booth so we could have an optimum people watching position. These were some of the highlights:
1. My dad turned to us and whispered urgently, "GUYS! Do you see that chick over there? The one in the red top? She is TOTALLY checking me out." We laughed awkwardly at my dad being checked out while out with his children, but he seemed proud that, at almost 54, he's still "got it." The jury is out on whether or not she was actually checking him out, but he is sure she was. He leaned back in the booth, sighed smugly and said, "Yep yep. She is eyein' the Dan Man." Someone please tell me I was adopted. I cannot be related to him.
2. You know how in a lot of high school movies there is a huge party and then there is some awkward couple making out in a corner? Well, that couple apparently grew up and now hangs out at The Watershed. A couple who was easily as old as my parents was sitting in a corner booth opposite of ours. She was sitting on his lap, and they were making out like stereotypical teenagers in post-prom heat. Um....ew. I'm not sure at what age you are too old to make out anymore, but they were past it.
3. Goth Girl was sitting at a center table with a very scared looking date. You would be scared too if you were dating Goth Girl. She was wearing creepy black clothes and even creepier make-up that made her eyes look like a raccoon's. The man with her looked pretty normal, and I couldn't help wondering if Goth Girl looked normal when he asked her out, but then put on her "going out" clothes and is now scary. I don't blame him for looking freaked out - by the creepy way she was looking at him I suspect he may have become a human sacrifice by the end of the night.
4. Finally the lead singer got up to introduce her band. I think she was really pretty for a middle-aged woman, but I can't be sure because I couldn't tear my eyes off of the disaster-waiting-to-happen that was her cleavage. I give it a 75% chance that her boobs fell out of her shirt by the end of the night. The black spandex of her top was working WAY to hard to keep 'em covered. She took the microphone and said, "Hello Watershed!!! We are Sex with Exes, and we are ready to play for you!" Rex, my dad, and I shared a look of new understanding about the "Sex with Exes" sign. But might I say, at what band meeting was that approved as the BEST name they could come up with!?!?!?
Sex with Exes was...um...how do I say this nicely?...not good. They seemed like a high school band that was really cool in high school, but then all of their peers grew up, went to college, and started real careers while Sex with Exes is still trying to make it. They are playing at a dive bar in Haslett, so obviously they haven't "made it" too far yet. Their music wasn't super, and the main problem was that it was SO LOUD. Loud as in take your ipod, turn it up to the highest possible volume level, and stick the earphones in your ears. Then imagine a sound about ten decibals louder. It was an instant headache for all involved. The dance floor cleared pretty quickly because the sound waves blasted everyone away. There was one brave guy, we nicknamed him "Huggy Man," who really wanted to dance so he would go up to his friends and hug them while rhythmically bouncing up and down. Note to Huggy Man: that's not dancing. It's just being weird.
Sadly, we had to leave shortly after Sex with Exes started playing. The hearing loss just wasn't worth it. My dad was impressed with the amount of craziness at The Watershed, though, and I was glad that my blog was proven true. If any of you want to challenge its validity again, I will gladly go back to The Watershed with you to let you see this for yourself. :-)
Friday, December 17, 2010
My Babies
I call my sixth graders "my babies," to which they always cry indignantly "We are not babies. We are TWELVE!" But I don't care if they are twelve. They are still my babies, and I love them like they are my own kids. You would love them too, if you saw all of these crazy things that they do. So here is my next batch of stories - names have been changed.
1. Today was the last day of school before Christmas break, and a few kids brought me Christmas presents. Some of them were REALLY nice! I feel very spoiled. Brian came up to me first thing in the morning, looking very sheepish, and said, "Mrs. Webb, I got you an apple for Christmas. The problem is that I got really hungry on the bus this morning, so I ate it. Can I just bring you one in January instead?" HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!
2. In math class, we have a few students who are missing assignments. One girl got her list of missing assignments, then came up and asked, "What page is the 'page 132' assignment on?" Seriously.
3. Did you ever see the show "Kids Say the Darndest Things"? Well, I used to think that show was hilarious. Little kids are so funny! I never knew that twelve year olds would have funny things to say too, but they CERTAINLY do. They ask TONS of questions, which is great for their learning (sometimes). Sometimes they just ask weird questions, though, which are incredibly difficult to answer tactfully. Here are some examples:
1. "What does 'baby got back' mean?"
2. "What is an example of 'stereotype'?" (try to think of a non-offensive
stereotype that you can share with a class of sixth graders. Go ahead. Try.)
3. "Mrs. Webb, you're married right? Do you and Mr. Webb smooch?"
(literally: they said "smooch.")
4. Sometimes I like to bring juice in my water bottle instead of water. One morning I brought in cranberry juice, and as I was drinking it Henry gasped, "Mrs. Webb, is that blood??" I said that yes, of course it is blood. I am a vampire - what did they expect? Ben said, "Whoa! I've never had a vampire teacher before! Are you going to eat me?" I said that no, I generally do not eat my students. Henry said, "What about me? I have very special blood." I said, "Is it spicy? I really like spicy blood..." to which Ben piped up, "WOW - I am SO glad that I am not Mexican right now."
5. Will offered Jen $100 to go to the movies with him - I am not kidding. She said no. That's probably for the best; I feel like getting paid to go on a date is a gateway into prostitution, and I really want Jen to do better in life than that.
6. While I was teaching, my peripheral vision saw something fly through the air. I saw who caught it, so I said, "MAX! Hand me whatever that is." He stood up, hands behind his back, and said, "I don't have anything! I swear!" He tried to shove something in his back pocket so that he could show me he didn't have anything in his hands, but the bouncy ball missed his back pocket and bounced across the room instead. I couldn't help laughing. "You SWEAR you don't have anything?" I confiscated the ball and added it to my ever expanding collection of sixth grade toys.
7. For my lesson on the reading comprehension strategy of prediction, I created a character called "The Great Webbini." I dressed up like a crazy fortune teller and videoed myself teaching the lesson (you can see the lesson at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yW5BkoHoYBg). Before I showed the video to my class, I said, "Okay guys - we are going to do something a little crazy today." Ron said, "OH NO! This is MRS. WEBB talking! If SHE says it's crazy, it's going to be REALLY CRAZY!" I'm glad I've got them on their toes.
8. "The Great Webbini" video was uploaded to YouTube so I could show it to my class, and they all said they were going to go home and show the video to their parents. I didn't believe them, but the video has gotten 70 hits within two days. Oh great - their parents are going to think I am nuts.
9. This morning there were - and I kid you not - green panties in the hall. I didn't have any idea what to do with that. So we put them in a fifth grade male teacher's mailbox with a note that says, "Are these yours? They look about your size..."
10. Gigi gasped during class and turned around in her seat. She screeched "I feel violated!" I asked her why and, equally panicky, she responded "The air is touching me!!!!!"
I am going to miss those kiddos for the next two weeks - I can't wait to see what stories I will come up with in 2011. Stay tuned.
1. Today was the last day of school before Christmas break, and a few kids brought me Christmas presents. Some of them were REALLY nice! I feel very spoiled. Brian came up to me first thing in the morning, looking very sheepish, and said, "Mrs. Webb, I got you an apple for Christmas. The problem is that I got really hungry on the bus this morning, so I ate it. Can I just bring you one in January instead?" HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!
2. In math class, we have a few students who are missing assignments. One girl got her list of missing assignments, then came up and asked, "What page is the 'page 132' assignment on?" Seriously.
3. Did you ever see the show "Kids Say the Darndest Things"? Well, I used to think that show was hilarious. Little kids are so funny! I never knew that twelve year olds would have funny things to say too, but they CERTAINLY do. They ask TONS of questions, which is great for their learning (sometimes). Sometimes they just ask weird questions, though, which are incredibly difficult to answer tactfully. Here are some examples:
1. "What does 'baby got back' mean?"
2. "What is an example of 'stereotype'?" (try to think of a non-offensive
stereotype that you can share with a class of sixth graders. Go ahead. Try.)
3. "Mrs. Webb, you're married right? Do you and Mr. Webb smooch?"
(literally: they said "smooch.")
4. Sometimes I like to bring juice in my water bottle instead of water. One morning I brought in cranberry juice, and as I was drinking it Henry gasped, "Mrs. Webb, is that blood??" I said that yes, of course it is blood. I am a vampire - what did they expect? Ben said, "Whoa! I've never had a vampire teacher before! Are you going to eat me?" I said that no, I generally do not eat my students. Henry said, "What about me? I have very special blood." I said, "Is it spicy? I really like spicy blood..." to which Ben piped up, "WOW - I am SO glad that I am not Mexican right now."
5. Will offered Jen $100 to go to the movies with him - I am not kidding. She said no. That's probably for the best; I feel like getting paid to go on a date is a gateway into prostitution, and I really want Jen to do better in life than that.
6. While I was teaching, my peripheral vision saw something fly through the air. I saw who caught it, so I said, "MAX! Hand me whatever that is." He stood up, hands behind his back, and said, "I don't have anything! I swear!" He tried to shove something in his back pocket so that he could show me he didn't have anything in his hands, but the bouncy ball missed his back pocket and bounced across the room instead. I couldn't help laughing. "You SWEAR you don't have anything?" I confiscated the ball and added it to my ever expanding collection of sixth grade toys.
7. For my lesson on the reading comprehension strategy of prediction, I created a character called "The Great Webbini." I dressed up like a crazy fortune teller and videoed myself teaching the lesson (you can see the lesson at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yW5BkoHoYBg). Before I showed the video to my class, I said, "Okay guys - we are going to do something a little crazy today." Ron said, "OH NO! This is MRS. WEBB talking! If SHE says it's crazy, it's going to be REALLY CRAZY!" I'm glad I've got them on their toes.
8. "The Great Webbini" video was uploaded to YouTube so I could show it to my class, and they all said they were going to go home and show the video to their parents. I didn't believe them, but the video has gotten 70 hits within two days. Oh great - their parents are going to think I am nuts.
9. This morning there were - and I kid you not - green panties in the hall. I didn't have any idea what to do with that. So we put them in a fifth grade male teacher's mailbox with a note that says, "Are these yours? They look about your size..."
10. Gigi gasped during class and turned around in her seat. She screeched "I feel violated!" I asked her why and, equally panicky, she responded "The air is touching me!!!!!"
I am going to miss those kiddos for the next two weeks - I can't wait to see what stories I will come up with in 2011. Stay tuned.
Monday, December 13, 2010
Matchmaker
I would be a horrible matchmaker. This is a fact. If I ever offer to set you up with someone, politely decline.
The first indication that I would be a horrible matchmaker came in high school. My first true attempt at matchmaking was to set up my friend Beth with the object of her affections, Rex Webb. CLEARLY that match worked out really well... I married him.
I play matchmaker at school, too. I am hoping perhaps one of these matches will be successful and cancel out my previous matchmaking transgression. Sixth graders have crushes on each other ALL THE TIME. When people have mutual crushes on each other, they start "going out," whatever that means in sixth grade. If you thought your teachers had no clue who you had a crush on in middle school, you are probably wrong. It's pretty obvious. I pick the "couples" that I like and sit them next to each other in seating charts. If I think they are a bad couple, I sit them at opposite sides of the room. Don't judge me - I derive great joy from this. Plus, you would be amazed at how much a seating chart can make or break a middle school couple. The relationships are largely based on convenience, and if they no longer sit together then sometimes it just isn't worth working through the long distance.
Today I was trying to match people again. It went poorly. I wasn't trying to match my students since we had a SNOW DAY, but I was trying to match my friend Katie. Specifically, I was trying to match her with one of Rex's brothers. She always talks about how she wishes she could meet a guy like Rex because he's so amazing (duh). I told her that he has two brothers, and she should marry one of them because then we would be pseudo-related! Woot! I told her that their names are Tom and Jake. She began asking about them...and that is where things started to fall apart.
Katie: How old is Jake?
Me: Umm...almost...twenty.
Katie: (looks at me suspiciously) Exactly HOW CLOSE to twenty?
Me: Erm...you know...three years...and a few months...
Katie: So he's...sixteen?
Me: Yeah...
So then Katie suggested we move on to Tom.
Katie: How old is Tom?
Me: Almost nineteen.
Katie: How close to nineteen?
Me: Only a couple months. He's seriously close. (It's six months...but oh well.)
Katie: Okay, well let me see a picture of him on facebook.
(we proceed to the computer to stalk Rex's brothers)
Katie: Ew. There is a bloody deer in his profile picture.
Me: Um, if you're not going to be able to handle bloody deer, then I should stop you right now. You're not going to marry a Webb.
Katie: No, I can handle it. But that's gross, so let me see a picture of Jake.
(we proceed to Jake's facebook)
Katie: He is in a football uniform. I hate football.
Me: FINE! I'll find a different picture! He plays a million sports.
(I click on his profile picture album)
Katie: He's wearing a U of M shirt in that picture.
Me: OH don't worry about that! He's not THAT big of a Michigan fan...he pretty much just has that shirt. (WOW...total lie...Jake's the biggest U of M fan I know, including my friends who go to U of M).
Katie: Okay.
Me: Actually, I don't think you and Jake are that great of a match after all...
Katie: Yeah, at least Tom is a legal adult.
Me: Okay. So you can marry Tom then.
So it's settled. Katie is going to marry Tom. Now she just has to meet him...and sift through the "customizations" I made to make him sound like her type...and then fall in love with him and marry him and blah blah blah...
Why do I feel like this isn't going to work out so well?
Perhaps I had better go back to my sixth grade matchmaking. Or possibly give up the art altogether...I don't think it is my best talent.
The first indication that I would be a horrible matchmaker came in high school. My first true attempt at matchmaking was to set up my friend Beth with the object of her affections, Rex Webb. CLEARLY that match worked out really well... I married him.
I play matchmaker at school, too. I am hoping perhaps one of these matches will be successful and cancel out my previous matchmaking transgression. Sixth graders have crushes on each other ALL THE TIME. When people have mutual crushes on each other, they start "going out," whatever that means in sixth grade. If you thought your teachers had no clue who you had a crush on in middle school, you are probably wrong. It's pretty obvious. I pick the "couples" that I like and sit them next to each other in seating charts. If I think they are a bad couple, I sit them at opposite sides of the room. Don't judge me - I derive great joy from this. Plus, you would be amazed at how much a seating chart can make or break a middle school couple. The relationships are largely based on convenience, and if they no longer sit together then sometimes it just isn't worth working through the long distance.
Today I was trying to match people again. It went poorly. I wasn't trying to match my students since we had a SNOW DAY, but I was trying to match my friend Katie. Specifically, I was trying to match her with one of Rex's brothers. She always talks about how she wishes she could meet a guy like Rex because he's so amazing (duh). I told her that he has two brothers, and she should marry one of them because then we would be pseudo-related! Woot! I told her that their names are Tom and Jake. She began asking about them...and that is where things started to fall apart.
Katie: How old is Jake?
Me: Umm...almost...twenty.
Katie: (looks at me suspiciously) Exactly HOW CLOSE to twenty?
Me: Erm...you know...three years...and a few months...
Katie: So he's...sixteen?
Me: Yeah...
So then Katie suggested we move on to Tom.
Katie: How old is Tom?
Me: Almost nineteen.
Katie: How close to nineteen?
Me: Only a couple months. He's seriously close. (It's six months...but oh well.)
Katie: Okay, well let me see a picture of him on facebook.
(we proceed to the computer to stalk Rex's brothers)
Katie: Ew. There is a bloody deer in his profile picture.
Me: Um, if you're not going to be able to handle bloody deer, then I should stop you right now. You're not going to marry a Webb.
Katie: No, I can handle it. But that's gross, so let me see a picture of Jake.
(we proceed to Jake's facebook)
Katie: He is in a football uniform. I hate football.
Me: FINE! I'll find a different picture! He plays a million sports.
(I click on his profile picture album)
Katie: He's wearing a U of M shirt in that picture.
Me: OH don't worry about that! He's not THAT big of a Michigan fan...he pretty much just has that shirt. (WOW...total lie...Jake's the biggest U of M fan I know, including my friends who go to U of M).
Katie: Okay.
Me: Actually, I don't think you and Jake are that great of a match after all...
Katie: Yeah, at least Tom is a legal adult.
Me: Okay. So you can marry Tom then.
So it's settled. Katie is going to marry Tom. Now she just has to meet him...and sift through the "customizations" I made to make him sound like her type...and then fall in love with him and marry him and blah blah blah...
Why do I feel like this isn't going to work out so well?
Perhaps I had better go back to my sixth grade matchmaking. Or possibly give up the art altogether...I don't think it is my best talent.
Friday, December 10, 2010
Special Needs
Rex is trying to convince me that we need to adopt a special needs ferret. I was about to tell him that HE must have special needs if he thinks we can handle any more pets, but then I saw the picture of the ferret.
It is SO cute! How can you say no to that face? One of Rex's coworkers is trying to give away her ferret because she doesn't have time to take care of it any more. It is deaf, so it would be kind of a challenge. She is giving it away with its entire cage and all of its supplies - what a deal! We HAVE always talked about getting a ferret...but then again I'm not sure there is a domesticated animal that we have not talked about getting.
So now I am in a dilemma...should I agree to the insanity of adding another member to our already way too furry Webb family, or should I be the voice of reason and introduce some all-too-rare sanity and logic into our decisions?
Only time will tell.
It is SO cute! How can you say no to that face? One of Rex's coworkers is trying to give away her ferret because she doesn't have time to take care of it any more. It is deaf, so it would be kind of a challenge. She is giving it away with its entire cage and all of its supplies - what a deal! We HAVE always talked about getting a ferret...but then again I'm not sure there is a domesticated animal that we have not talked about getting.
So now I am in a dilemma...should I agree to the insanity of adding another member to our already way too furry Webb family, or should I be the voice of reason and introduce some all-too-rare sanity and logic into our decisions?
Only time will tell.
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
My Cooking Fail
I really want to meet the person who decided that slow-cooker recipes are easy. Our conversation would go something like this:
Me: Oh hi!
Slow-Cooker Guy: Hello.
Me: Are you the one who said slow-cooker recipes are easy?
Slow-Cooker Guy: Yeah! You wanted to talk to me?
Me: Yes I did. I just thought I should mention that I HATE YOU!! *punches him in the face*
Let me assure you - just because a recipe is cooked in a crock pot does NOT mean that it is easy. Do not believe the lies that people like Slow-Cooker Guy tell you. They are just trying to sell slow-cookers.
I have a dilemma: my in-laws are coming over on Sunday, and I have to cook for them. Don't make the mistake of thinking these are any old people who might be impressed with Macaroni and Cheese, nacho chips, and a Coca-Cola (like I would). This family comes from a long line of FANTASTIC cooks. They won't admit it to you, but I think they might secretly be related to Martha Stewart AND Betty Crocker. Possibly even Aunt Jemima, even though she's black. If you met Jake and Michelle (Rex's siblings), you would believe that they have a black ancestor somewhere. But definitely one who can cook.
I digress. Back to my cooking dilemma. OBVIOUSLY I needed to come up with some great home made recipe that would be easy to cook and still pass as "Okay, I guess this girl really is taking care of my son/brother." I decided to go with Chicken Tortilla Soup. I found an "easy" slow-cooker recipe, and I figured that if I paired this dish with other Mexican accouterments (home made guacamole with chips, quesadillas, etc.) that I would have a pretty delicious meal on its way. I decided to trial run this recipe tonight so that I could see if it was as delicious as the recipe claimed.
WELL. I assembled my ingredients and began to cook. The recipe calls for "shredded chicken," but I happen to know that effectively shredding chicken is pretty difficult. I asked Rex if cubed chicken would be okay, but he said, "Well, it would be okay, but shredded would really taste a lot better..." So obviously I had to shred it. The thing about shredding chicken is that you have to cook the chicken all the way through first, and then you shred it. I took the chicken breasts out of the freezer and put them in the microwave to defrost. These chicken breasts were HUGE!! I don't know if the chicken was on steroids or just well endowed, but our dinner definitely included either the A-Rod or the Dolly Parton of the chicken world.
When the chicken FINALLY defrosted (after three rounds of hitting the "defrost" button and trying to get them to thaw), I put them in the pan I had prepared. I discovered that cooking chicken this way is not very effective when the chicken breasts are as thick as a dictionary. The outside of the chicken CHARRED, and I kept flipping it over and flipping it over, but I couldn't get the middle to cook. I cut the breasts in half and kept trying, but the middle stayed a pleasant shade of bubble-gum pink. By the time the outsides were completely charred, our entire apartment was filled with smoke. YES I had the stovetop fan on, but it couldn't eat up the billowing burned-y steam fast enough. Rex had to open the door to our apartment and turn on our huge window fan in the doorway to try to aim the smoke in the hall (great - so all our neighbors could discover what a fabulous cook I am).
Finally I gave up on the chicken. I left it in the pan (I mean, it couldn't really get worse), and I decided to try preparing the other parts of the soup. I could attempt to cook new chicken once I had the rest of it done. I got out the canned goods I needed and went to find the can opener, but Rex informed me that it was in the dishwasher. So I couldn't put the canned ingredients in, but no problem. I decided I would just put in the spices first! I got out the spices and went to measure them, but I had no measuring spoons. Rex informed me that these too were in the dishwasher. Awesome. I said, "Great Rex. I have been working on this soup for forty-five minutes, I have put in all of the ingredients I can, and our 'soup' is comprised of only TWO CUPS OF WATER!"
Not a good start to my cooking experiment. I was beginning to wonder how much Rex's mom would frown at me if I just got some Hot N Ready's. I suddenly remembered another part to my soup - vegetables! I could begin cutting up the vegetables! I quickly retrieved my slap chop and prepared to chop vegetables. I looked at my recipe, and it called for "one medium sized onion." What the dickens does "medium" mean? That is so vague! I looked in my refrigerator and found that I had two onions. Dang. I was hoping I would have three, and then I could line them up in size order and just pick the middle one. No luck. I was stuck with two onions. I could only have larger and smaller. No medium. I chose the larger one (because after all, who doesn't like onions?) and I set to chopping.
Once I finished chopping my "medium" onion, I began to mince my garlic. Now, I have an issue with this. A confession, really. I am almost 22 years old, and I have NO idea what "mince" means. To the best of my knowledge, "mince" is a fancy word for "chop up really small." I feel like it probably has a more precise meaning, but please don't ask me what that is. As I chopped my garlic into microscopic pieces, I suddenly felt tears running down my cheeks. I was not crying because of my frustration with the garlic, the unopenable cans, or even my chicken ashes. I wasn't even crying at all, but rather my eyes were watering uncontrollably from the freshly chopped pile of medium onion that was sitting next to me. I guess the oils didn't hit my eyes until I started on the garlic, but then they certainly hit me in full force! Have you ever tried to "mince" something when your eyes are watering so badly that you can't even see what you're cutting? I have. I'm lucky I didn't chop a finger off.
FINALLY, after the dishwasher was finished and my burned chicken was salvaged to the best of my ability, I threw all of my ingredients into the crock pot. Then I suddenly realized that I had been using the recipe I was going to use for Rex's family, which has about fifteen servings (you should meet his brothers - they eat a lot). Yep, I had fifteen servings of Charred Soup for only Rex and me.
I let it simmer for the hours required, and I skeptically took off the lid to get a whiff. Surprisingly, it did not smell horrible. Rex and I decided to try some (what did we have to lose?) and even more surprisingly, it tasted pretty good! We even had seconds! Even with us having seconds, though, there are still eleven servings left in the crock pot. Ha ha. Anyway, I decided that we are going to go with this recipe on Sunday after all. Hopefully I learned enough from this experience that we can make it work for Rex's family. They had better brace themselves for this. But hey, if it goes horribly wrong, there are always Hot and Ready's. I may not be in the bloodline of Betty Crocker, but I think I might be distantly related to the Little Caesars guy.
Me: Oh hi!
Slow-Cooker Guy: Hello.
Me: Are you the one who said slow-cooker recipes are easy?
Slow-Cooker Guy: Yeah! You wanted to talk to me?
Me: Yes I did. I just thought I should mention that I HATE YOU!! *punches him in the face*
Let me assure you - just because a recipe is cooked in a crock pot does NOT mean that it is easy. Do not believe the lies that people like Slow-Cooker Guy tell you. They are just trying to sell slow-cookers.
I have a dilemma: my in-laws are coming over on Sunday, and I have to cook for them. Don't make the mistake of thinking these are any old people who might be impressed with Macaroni and Cheese, nacho chips, and a Coca-Cola (like I would). This family comes from a long line of FANTASTIC cooks. They won't admit it to you, but I think they might secretly be related to Martha Stewart AND Betty Crocker. Possibly even Aunt Jemima, even though she's black. If you met Jake and Michelle (Rex's siblings), you would believe that they have a black ancestor somewhere. But definitely one who can cook.
I digress. Back to my cooking dilemma. OBVIOUSLY I needed to come up with some great home made recipe that would be easy to cook and still pass as "Okay, I guess this girl really is taking care of my son/brother." I decided to go with Chicken Tortilla Soup. I found an "easy" slow-cooker recipe, and I figured that if I paired this dish with other Mexican accouterments (home made guacamole with chips, quesadillas, etc.) that I would have a pretty delicious meal on its way. I decided to trial run this recipe tonight so that I could see if it was as delicious as the recipe claimed.
WELL. I assembled my ingredients and began to cook. The recipe calls for "shredded chicken," but I happen to know that effectively shredding chicken is pretty difficult. I asked Rex if cubed chicken would be okay, but he said, "Well, it would be okay, but shredded would really taste a lot better..." So obviously I had to shred it. The thing about shredding chicken is that you have to cook the chicken all the way through first, and then you shred it. I took the chicken breasts out of the freezer and put them in the microwave to defrost. These chicken breasts were HUGE!! I don't know if the chicken was on steroids or just well endowed, but our dinner definitely included either the A-Rod or the Dolly Parton of the chicken world.
When the chicken FINALLY defrosted (after three rounds of hitting the "defrost" button and trying to get them to thaw), I put them in the pan I had prepared. I discovered that cooking chicken this way is not very effective when the chicken breasts are as thick as a dictionary. The outside of the chicken CHARRED, and I kept flipping it over and flipping it over, but I couldn't get the middle to cook. I cut the breasts in half and kept trying, but the middle stayed a pleasant shade of bubble-gum pink. By the time the outsides were completely charred, our entire apartment was filled with smoke. YES I had the stovetop fan on, but it couldn't eat up the billowing burned-y steam fast enough. Rex had to open the door to our apartment and turn on our huge window fan in the doorway to try to aim the smoke in the hall (great - so all our neighbors could discover what a fabulous cook I am).
Finally I gave up on the chicken. I left it in the pan (I mean, it couldn't really get worse), and I decided to try preparing the other parts of the soup. I could attempt to cook new chicken once I had the rest of it done. I got out the canned goods I needed and went to find the can opener, but Rex informed me that it was in the dishwasher. So I couldn't put the canned ingredients in, but no problem. I decided I would just put in the spices first! I got out the spices and went to measure them, but I had no measuring spoons. Rex informed me that these too were in the dishwasher. Awesome. I said, "Great Rex. I have been working on this soup for forty-five minutes, I have put in all of the ingredients I can, and our 'soup' is comprised of only TWO CUPS OF WATER!"
Not a good start to my cooking experiment. I was beginning to wonder how much Rex's mom would frown at me if I just got some Hot N Ready's. I suddenly remembered another part to my soup - vegetables! I could begin cutting up the vegetables! I quickly retrieved my slap chop and prepared to chop vegetables. I looked at my recipe, and it called for "one medium sized onion." What the dickens does "medium" mean? That is so vague! I looked in my refrigerator and found that I had two onions. Dang. I was hoping I would have three, and then I could line them up in size order and just pick the middle one. No luck. I was stuck with two onions. I could only have larger and smaller. No medium. I chose the larger one (because after all, who doesn't like onions?) and I set to chopping.
Once I finished chopping my "medium" onion, I began to mince my garlic. Now, I have an issue with this. A confession, really. I am almost 22 years old, and I have NO idea what "mince" means. To the best of my knowledge, "mince" is a fancy word for "chop up really small." I feel like it probably has a more precise meaning, but please don't ask me what that is. As I chopped my garlic into microscopic pieces, I suddenly felt tears running down my cheeks. I was not crying because of my frustration with the garlic, the unopenable cans, or even my chicken ashes. I wasn't even crying at all, but rather my eyes were watering uncontrollably from the freshly chopped pile of medium onion that was sitting next to me. I guess the oils didn't hit my eyes until I started on the garlic, but then they certainly hit me in full force! Have you ever tried to "mince" something when your eyes are watering so badly that you can't even see what you're cutting? I have. I'm lucky I didn't chop a finger off.
FINALLY, after the dishwasher was finished and my burned chicken was salvaged to the best of my ability, I threw all of my ingredients into the crock pot. Then I suddenly realized that I had been using the recipe I was going to use for Rex's family, which has about fifteen servings (you should meet his brothers - they eat a lot). Yep, I had fifteen servings of Charred Soup for only Rex and me.
I let it simmer for the hours required, and I skeptically took off the lid to get a whiff. Surprisingly, it did not smell horrible. Rex and I decided to try some (what did we have to lose?) and even more surprisingly, it tasted pretty good! We even had seconds! Even with us having seconds, though, there are still eleven servings left in the crock pot. Ha ha. Anyway, I decided that we are going to go with this recipe on Sunday after all. Hopefully I learned enough from this experience that we can make it work for Rex's family. They had better brace themselves for this. But hey, if it goes horribly wrong, there are always Hot and Ready's. I may not be in the bloodline of Betty Crocker, but I think I might be distantly related to the Little Caesars guy.
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
Reason Number 5463785438 Why I Like Rex
Rex routinely gets up early to eat breakfast with me and send me off to school. This is super nice of him since he usually doesn't have class until noon, and it is very appreciated.
Lately, though, he has stepped it up to the next level. It has been getting colder, so he decided that he has to take extra provisions. Now he gets up BEFORE I do so that he can have hot chocolate ready for me by the time I am ready to eat breakfast. About five minutes before I have to leave, he goes out to my "chariot," (AKA our janky car), wipes off any frost or snow, and starts it for me so that it will be warm when I am ready to drive to work.
Also, just because he knows it makes me feel cool, he puts hot chocolate in a to go mug so that I can take it with me to work. He heard me talking a while ago about how I feel lame since all of the other teachers walk in with their fancy Biggby and Starbucks coffees, and I don't even LIKE coffee. He came up with the plan that when I bring hot chocolate in a travel coffee mug, no one will even know that I am not drinking coffee, and I will still look cool. Oh yeah - at today's staff meeting, I sipped hot beverages with the best of them. Only one teacher didn't have a coffee. Seriously. What a loser. ;-) Who says that being popular and looking cool is only for the students?! Luckily, with my daily hot chocolate in my totally hip mug, I officially consider myself part of the "in" crowd. Ha ha!
So yeah, I think Rex spoils me a little, but that's his fault. It's not like I am going to say no! Just don't tell anyone that I drink hot chocolate instead of coffee...I might get shunned.
Lately, though, he has stepped it up to the next level. It has been getting colder, so he decided that he has to take extra provisions. Now he gets up BEFORE I do so that he can have hot chocolate ready for me by the time I am ready to eat breakfast. About five minutes before I have to leave, he goes out to my "chariot," (AKA our janky car), wipes off any frost or snow, and starts it for me so that it will be warm when I am ready to drive to work.
Also, just because he knows it makes me feel cool, he puts hot chocolate in a to go mug so that I can take it with me to work. He heard me talking a while ago about how I feel lame since all of the other teachers walk in with their fancy Biggby and Starbucks coffees, and I don't even LIKE coffee. He came up with the plan that when I bring hot chocolate in a travel coffee mug, no one will even know that I am not drinking coffee, and I will still look cool. Oh yeah - at today's staff meeting, I sipped hot beverages with the best of them. Only one teacher didn't have a coffee. Seriously. What a loser. ;-) Who says that being popular and looking cool is only for the students?! Luckily, with my daily hot chocolate in my totally hip mug, I officially consider myself part of the "in" crowd. Ha ha!
So yeah, I think Rex spoils me a little, but that's his fault. It's not like I am going to say no! Just don't tell anyone that I drink hot chocolate instead of coffee...I might get shunned.
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas
Rex and I have OFFICIALLY decorated our apartment in anticipation of Christmas. It is our first Christmas as a married couple, so obviously it is very important. Only the finest decorations would do, so we went to the dollar store.
The dollar store has an amazing assortment of Christmas decorations. For only $20, we got almost everything we needed to fully decorate our Christmas tree AND put miscellaneous decorations around our apartment. It was quite a successful shopping trip.
We were lucky enough to get a FREE Christmas tree from my parents, and we had tons of fun setting it up and decorating it. Elsie really wanted to be involved, but she ended up being quite counterproductive. When we were trying to untangle lights, she kept rolling around in them and messing them up. When we finally got the lights on the tree, she bit onto one of the red lights right before I caught her. She tried to give me her innocent face as if she hadn't just eaten a light, but it was glowing red inside her cheek like when a person puts a flashlight in their mouth. It was about the cutest thing ever...she looked so guilty, but I just busted out laughing and couldn't even be mad at her.
It was a great night of laughing and trying to see how we could maximize our festiveness throughout the entire apartment (which we affectionately call our "mini-mansion"). If I do say so myself, I think it turned out looking pretty great! We celebrated our success with a batch of Christmas cookies, and then we slept on our brand new snowman flannel sheets. I am definitely full of Christmas spirit - grinches beware. You are no match for the Webb family.
The dollar store has an amazing assortment of Christmas decorations. For only $20, we got almost everything we needed to fully decorate our Christmas tree AND put miscellaneous decorations around our apartment. It was quite a successful shopping trip.
We were lucky enough to get a FREE Christmas tree from my parents, and we had tons of fun setting it up and decorating it. Elsie really wanted to be involved, but she ended up being quite counterproductive. When we were trying to untangle lights, she kept rolling around in them and messing them up. When we finally got the lights on the tree, she bit onto one of the red lights right before I caught her. She tried to give me her innocent face as if she hadn't just eaten a light, but it was glowing red inside her cheek like when a person puts a flashlight in their mouth. It was about the cutest thing ever...she looked so guilty, but I just busted out laughing and couldn't even be mad at her.
It was a great night of laughing and trying to see how we could maximize our festiveness throughout the entire apartment (which we affectionately call our "mini-mansion"). If I do say so myself, I think it turned out looking pretty great! We celebrated our success with a batch of Christmas cookies, and then we slept on our brand new snowman flannel sheets. I am definitely full of Christmas spirit - grinches beware. You are no match for the Webb family.
Black Friday
Black Friday is a perfect example of what is wrong with the world: millions of people waking up before daylight and lining up for blocks and blocks, all for the opportunity to spend tons of money on more stuff so that they can attempt to fill their empty lives with material goods.
Obviously I wouldn't miss this.
Even though Black Friday might be mindless and materialistic, it is still a ton of fun! I have been going every year for about five years now, and it is always a total blast. I think National Geographic should make a documentary about Black Friday, because the dangerous jungles of the Amazon are really not so different from your local shopping mall on the day after Thanksgiving. It would be a great story - it has "survival of the fittest," "early bird catches the worm," and all of those other environmental laws.
This year's Black Friday started much like any other: creating our "battle plans" on Thanksgiving Day. My family always goes through all of the newspaper ads and decides which items are worth waking up at 4 in the morning for. Usually I just end up tagging along in the quest to nab the latest technological gizmo for my sister (she saves up her money all year to buy something cool on Black Friday). THIS year, though, I saw something I wanted for ME. A new video camera for only $19.99! WHOA!
I have been wanting a new video camera for a while (it was even on my Christmas list!), and obviously this deal was too good to pass up. The video camera was being sold at Menards, and luckily the items Rex wanted were also at Menards. My dad agreed to go with us (he was buying a scooter for my cousin), so we made our battle plans to advance on Menards at 5 AM the next morning.
4:30 AM rolled around far too quickly. We dragged ourselves out of bed and tried to get pumped up for our shopping excursion. At 4:30, Cara was just arriving back home (!) from her 3:00 AM trip to Wal-Mart to secure the new ipod touch. Still in the Black Friday mood, she decided to go with us to Menards.
The thing about waiting outside on Black Friday is that it is COLD. It was 12 degrees outside in Kalamazoo. I wore plenty of layers, but Rex still insisted that I wear his winter jacket because it is the warmest one we have. It is nice that he wants me to be warm and is willing to sacrifice his jacket, but I HATE his winter jacket!! Before you call me totally spoiled, hear me out: It is a UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN jacket!! He got it for free from his sister, who worked in the residence halls at U of M. She picked it up after one of the athletes threw it away (whoever it was was #10 - it says so right on the coat). Anyway, it is a really nice winter coat, but it has Ann Arbor cooties that have rendered it largely unwearable. Rex wasn't going to let me go shopping without the "proper warmth," though, so I was forced to wear it. He handed me the jacket, and I held it up with two fingers as if I was being forced to wear a dead opossum carcass. Before I put it on, I grabbed a roll of masking tape and put a giant "X" over the M logo and the word "Michigan." I left the Nike sign alone because, after all, that's not so offensive.
We trooped over to Menards, delayed by Cara deciding to go with us (she needed to change her clothes) and by me redecorating Rex's coat. By the time we showed up, the line was almost out to the road (about 500 feet from the entrance to the store). My heart sank - I knew that the video cameras were going to be a hot seller, and they would probably be sold out by the time that I reached the front of the line. I decided to just be happy being out with my family, and we had a great time joking around with people in line.
When it was FINALLY time for the store to open, there was a mad rush for the front door. Someone tried to jump out of their car and cut into the front of the line, and my dad screamed, "HEY! Don't cheat! If you cheat now, you will be a cheater for the rest of your life!! You will cheat on your exams! You will cheat at your job! You will cheat on your spouse!! EVERYONE HATES CHEATERS!!!" He was getting a little too enthusiastic. I tried to tune him out as I kept my eyes on the prize: my video camera. We rushed into the store and spread out so we could each find our respective items. Rex and I stayed together, though, because... well actually, I don't know. Because we like being together I guess. Anyway, we asked someone where the video cameras were being sold, and we were pointed to the back of the store. We rushed around the throngs of people, dodging shopping carts and trying not to trample young children. They should really make a video game of Black Friday - it is a real challenge.
We finally made it to the back of the store, and I spotted a small display of video cameras. There were still a few boxes left! I reached out and grabbed my prize. SUCCESS!!! I dropped to my knees in a Mia Hamm victory pose, held the box over my head and shouted, "YYYYYEEEEEESSSSSSS!"
No I didn't...that would be too overly dramatic.
OKAY OKAY I can't lie to you - yes I did actually do that. Don't judge. Black Friday does weird things to people. I blame the Michigan jacket.
Once my camera was secured, we headed to look for Rex's items. He wanted a roll up keyboard, a beard trimmer, a tea kettle for his grandma (aw!), and an ipod dock for his little brother. WE GOT EVERYTHING! Can you believe it? Usually something sells out before we get to it, but we got everything we wanted! Cara and my Dad secured all of their treasures too! We all agreed that it was the most successful Black Friday ever. It was so much fun that, after our traditional victory breakfast at McDonalds, Rex and Cara and I went out to a bunch of other stores just to hang out and watch the madness.
It is such a shame that this day only comes once a year. Only 361 days until Black Friday 2011!
Obviously I wouldn't miss this.
Even though Black Friday might be mindless and materialistic, it is still a ton of fun! I have been going every year for about five years now, and it is always a total blast. I think National Geographic should make a documentary about Black Friday, because the dangerous jungles of the Amazon are really not so different from your local shopping mall on the day after Thanksgiving. It would be a great story - it has "survival of the fittest," "early bird catches the worm," and all of those other environmental laws.
This year's Black Friday started much like any other: creating our "battle plans" on Thanksgiving Day. My family always goes through all of the newspaper ads and decides which items are worth waking up at 4 in the morning for. Usually I just end up tagging along in the quest to nab the latest technological gizmo for my sister (she saves up her money all year to buy something cool on Black Friday). THIS year, though, I saw something I wanted for ME. A new video camera for only $19.99! WHOA!
I have been wanting a new video camera for a while (it was even on my Christmas list!), and obviously this deal was too good to pass up. The video camera was being sold at Menards, and luckily the items Rex wanted were also at Menards. My dad agreed to go with us (he was buying a scooter for my cousin), so we made our battle plans to advance on Menards at 5 AM the next morning.
4:30 AM rolled around far too quickly. We dragged ourselves out of bed and tried to get pumped up for our shopping excursion. At 4:30, Cara was just arriving back home (!) from her 3:00 AM trip to Wal-Mart to secure the new ipod touch. Still in the Black Friday mood, she decided to go with us to Menards.
The thing about waiting outside on Black Friday is that it is COLD. It was 12 degrees outside in Kalamazoo. I wore plenty of layers, but Rex still insisted that I wear his winter jacket because it is the warmest one we have. It is nice that he wants me to be warm and is willing to sacrifice his jacket, but I HATE his winter jacket!! Before you call me totally spoiled, hear me out: It is a UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN jacket!! He got it for free from his sister, who worked in the residence halls at U of M. She picked it up after one of the athletes threw it away (whoever it was was #10 - it says so right on the coat). Anyway, it is a really nice winter coat, but it has Ann Arbor cooties that have rendered it largely unwearable. Rex wasn't going to let me go shopping without the "proper warmth," though, so I was forced to wear it. He handed me the jacket, and I held it up with two fingers as if I was being forced to wear a dead opossum carcass. Before I put it on, I grabbed a roll of masking tape and put a giant "X" over the M logo and the word "Michigan." I left the Nike sign alone because, after all, that's not so offensive.
We trooped over to Menards, delayed by Cara deciding to go with us (she needed to change her clothes) and by me redecorating Rex's coat. By the time we showed up, the line was almost out to the road (about 500 feet from the entrance to the store). My heart sank - I knew that the video cameras were going to be a hot seller, and they would probably be sold out by the time that I reached the front of the line. I decided to just be happy being out with my family, and we had a great time joking around with people in line.
When it was FINALLY time for the store to open, there was a mad rush for the front door. Someone tried to jump out of their car and cut into the front of the line, and my dad screamed, "HEY! Don't cheat! If you cheat now, you will be a cheater for the rest of your life!! You will cheat on your exams! You will cheat at your job! You will cheat on your spouse!! EVERYONE HATES CHEATERS!!!" He was getting a little too enthusiastic. I tried to tune him out as I kept my eyes on the prize: my video camera. We rushed into the store and spread out so we could each find our respective items. Rex and I stayed together, though, because... well actually, I don't know. Because we like being together I guess. Anyway, we asked someone where the video cameras were being sold, and we were pointed to the back of the store. We rushed around the throngs of people, dodging shopping carts and trying not to trample young children. They should really make a video game of Black Friday - it is a real challenge.
We finally made it to the back of the store, and I spotted a small display of video cameras. There were still a few boxes left! I reached out and grabbed my prize. SUCCESS!!! I dropped to my knees in a Mia Hamm victory pose, held the box over my head and shouted, "YYYYYEEEEEESSSSSSS!"
No I didn't...that would be too overly dramatic.
OKAY OKAY I can't lie to you - yes I did actually do that. Don't judge. Black Friday does weird things to people. I blame the Michigan jacket.
Once my camera was secured, we headed to look for Rex's items. He wanted a roll up keyboard, a beard trimmer, a tea kettle for his grandma (aw!), and an ipod dock for his little brother. WE GOT EVERYTHING! Can you believe it? Usually something sells out before we get to it, but we got everything we wanted! Cara and my Dad secured all of their treasures too! We all agreed that it was the most successful Black Friday ever. It was so much fun that, after our traditional victory breakfast at McDonalds, Rex and Cara and I went out to a bunch of other stores just to hang out and watch the madness.
It is such a shame that this day only comes once a year. Only 361 days until Black Friday 2011!
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
This is why I am a teacher
I don't mean to inundate you with teacher posts, but this simply HAS to be blogged about. I think everyone wonders at some time or another, "Do I really like what I am doing with my life?" Well, today I had one of those moments that validates in my head, "Yes, I am so happy being a teacher, and I could never see myself doing anything else." I have the pleasure of having those moments quite often because my job ROCKS, but today was especially poignant. There is a student in my class, we will call him Billy, who gets in trouble a lot and is really chatty during class. Actually, when Rex came to our Thanksgiving feast, one of the comments he made to me was, "Well, obviously Billy is a handful." He really is. He's hilarious and will probably win "Class Clown" in high school, but the class clown is never on the teacher's list of favorites.
In the spirit of Thanksgiving (which is only two days away!!), Billy came up to me after class and handed me a note. It said:
Dear Mrs. Webb,
You are one of the funnest teachers I have had in my life. Your fun, energetic, and when I'm sad you make me happy. There has never been a day that you weren't fun. You make very funny stories about your cat. You make math fun with games, rap, etc. I hope you don't leave any time soon.
Sincerely,
Billy
I literally had tears in my eyes after reading that (good thing I read it after he left)...what nice things to say! I need to keep this filed away somewhere so I can read it when he is driving me crazy. Ha ha!
In the spirit of Thanksgiving (which is only two days away!!), Billy came up to me after class and handed me a note. It said:
Dear Mrs. Webb,
You are one of the funnest teachers I have had in my life. Your fun, energetic, and when I'm sad you make me happy. There has never been a day that you weren't fun. You make very funny stories about your cat. You make math fun with games, rap, etc. I hope you don't leave any time soon.
Sincerely,
Billy
I literally had tears in my eyes after reading that (good thing I read it after he left)...what nice things to say! I need to keep this filed away somewhere so I can read it when he is driving me crazy. Ha ha!
Monday, November 22, 2010
I love my job
I decided I really can't wait until I have a whole pile of stories to post, because then I forget a bunch of them. Here are the latest:
1. Jimmy came up to me and said, "Mrs. Webb, I shot a parrot!" Well, he instantly had my attention. "Really, Jimmy? A parrot? Why don't you tell me about that?" He said, "Well, I was squirrel hunting behind my house. My neighbor lets her parrot fly outside sometimes, and it landed in a tree. There was also a squirrel in that tree, and I really really really meant to hit the squirrel, but I missed and hit the parrot." In response to my alarmed face, he clarified, "It didn't die!! I just hit its wing with one of the BB's. It is kinda gimpy now, though." I congratulated him on being the only person I have ever met in my entire life who has shot a parrot. I know a lot of hunters too, so that is saying something.
2. Charlie came up to me and said, "Mrs. Webb, I like Christmas all except for one thing." I asked him what that was, and he said, "No more school, which means no YOU!" Awwww...brownie points. That kid is SO getting an A. ;-)
3. In teaching a lesson about the Supreme Court, I used the example of Brown vs. Board of Education to explain what types of cases would make it all the way to the Supreme Court. I explained how, back in the day, students with different skin colors had to go to different schools. People back then thought this was unfair, so the issue went all the way to the Supreme Court. One student, Trevon, raised his hand and said, "What about mixed race children like me? Which school would I go to?" I thought about it and said, "Actually...you probably wouldn't exist since mixed race couples were a major no-no. You would have been a high scandal. And if you did exist, you probably would have been homeschooled since no schools would want you. Good thing we have the Supreme Court, huh?" We all agreed that this is a good thing.
4. If you recall from a previous post, I have a student who is convinced that Rex is a dog because "Rex is not a person name!" Well, Rex volunteered (erm, I volunteered him) to help out with our Thanksgiving feast today. The student ran up to him and said, "Are you Mr. Webb?!?" Rex said yes, and I gloated, "HA! See!?! He IS a person! I have proof now!!!" Rex turned to the student and whispered conspiratorially, "Unless, of course, I am actually a dog, but I am a magic dog who likes to change into human form when Mrs. Webb takes me out in public." THANKS A LOT, REX!!!! I thought I was finally done trying to prove the humanity of my husband...but I guess I was wrong.
Can you BELIEVE people get paid to do this every day?!?!? Teaching is the best. I bet you wish you were an Ed major.
1. Jimmy came up to me and said, "Mrs. Webb, I shot a parrot!" Well, he instantly had my attention. "Really, Jimmy? A parrot? Why don't you tell me about that?" He said, "Well, I was squirrel hunting behind my house. My neighbor lets her parrot fly outside sometimes, and it landed in a tree. There was also a squirrel in that tree, and I really really really meant to hit the squirrel, but I missed and hit the parrot." In response to my alarmed face, he clarified, "It didn't die!! I just hit its wing with one of the BB's. It is kinda gimpy now, though." I congratulated him on being the only person I have ever met in my entire life who has shot a parrot. I know a lot of hunters too, so that is saying something.
2. Charlie came up to me and said, "Mrs. Webb, I like Christmas all except for one thing." I asked him what that was, and he said, "No more school, which means no YOU!" Awwww...brownie points. That kid is SO getting an A. ;-)
3. In teaching a lesson about the Supreme Court, I used the example of Brown vs. Board of Education to explain what types of cases would make it all the way to the Supreme Court. I explained how, back in the day, students with different skin colors had to go to different schools. People back then thought this was unfair, so the issue went all the way to the Supreme Court. One student, Trevon, raised his hand and said, "What about mixed race children like me? Which school would I go to?" I thought about it and said, "Actually...you probably wouldn't exist since mixed race couples were a major no-no. You would have been a high scandal. And if you did exist, you probably would have been homeschooled since no schools would want you. Good thing we have the Supreme Court, huh?" We all agreed that this is a good thing.
4. If you recall from a previous post, I have a student who is convinced that Rex is a dog because "Rex is not a person name!" Well, Rex volunteered (erm, I volunteered him) to help out with our Thanksgiving feast today. The student ran up to him and said, "Are you Mr. Webb?!?" Rex said yes, and I gloated, "HA! See!?! He IS a person! I have proof now!!!" Rex turned to the student and whispered conspiratorially, "Unless, of course, I am actually a dog, but I am a magic dog who likes to change into human form when Mrs. Webb takes me out in public." THANKS A LOT, REX!!!! I thought I was finally done trying to prove the humanity of my husband...but I guess I was wrong.
Can you BELIEVE people get paid to do this every day?!?!? Teaching is the best. I bet you wish you were an Ed major.
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Those Darn Kids
I was going to wait until I had a full arsenal of teacher stories with which to blog, but at the prompting of Lauren Kusler I have realized that too many days have gone by since my last post. To my loyal readers: I apologize. So this post might be a bit thin, but at least it is something! Here are some of my latest tales from sixth grade. As always, names have been changed.
1. Today in social studies we were talking about the US government and how it has three branches. When asked what the three branches of the federal government are, Mike answered "I know! It's judicial, legislative, and...um...execution!!" Close, Mike, but not quite there.
2. Jesse (a guy's guy who plays sports and generally makes every attempt to be manly) walked into math class carrying a bright pink binder. At my raised eyebrow he said, "This isn't mine!! It's Sara's. I'm her slave." As my eyebrows raised higher, he said, "No, it's cool. I carry all of her stuff and she pays me $5 a week." Satisfied that he had explained himself, he proceeded into math class. A minute later, Sara flounced in with a smug smile and her nose in the air, obviously proud that she is "above" carrying her own school supplies.
3. Every time I mention Rex, I have one student who is convinced he is my dog. He always says, "But Rex isn't a person name! It is a dog name!" So yeah, apparently I live alone and am really lonely all the time, so I just pretend that my dog is actually my husband so that I will feel better about myself.
4. Last weekend Rex and I went home for his grandfather's funeral. This caused me to miss a day of school. When I got back, all of the students wanted to know where I had gone. I told them that I was at a funeral. Steven jokingly inquired, "What, did Rex die?" and I said, "No, but wouldn't you feel bad if that was what really happened?" Then Matt piped up, "I would be happy, because then I could marry you!"
1. Today in social studies we were talking about the US government and how it has three branches. When asked what the three branches of the federal government are, Mike answered "I know! It's judicial, legislative, and...um...execution!!" Close, Mike, but not quite there.
2. Jesse (a guy's guy who plays sports and generally makes every attempt to be manly) walked into math class carrying a bright pink binder. At my raised eyebrow he said, "This isn't mine!! It's Sara's. I'm her slave." As my eyebrows raised higher, he said, "No, it's cool. I carry all of her stuff and she pays me $5 a week." Satisfied that he had explained himself, he proceeded into math class. A minute later, Sara flounced in with a smug smile and her nose in the air, obviously proud that she is "above" carrying her own school supplies.
3. Every time I mention Rex, I have one student who is convinced he is my dog. He always says, "But Rex isn't a person name! It is a dog name!" So yeah, apparently I live alone and am really lonely all the time, so I just pretend that my dog is actually my husband so that I will feel better about myself.
4. Last weekend Rex and I went home for his grandfather's funeral. This caused me to miss a day of school. When I got back, all of the students wanted to know where I had gone. I told them that I was at a funeral. Steven jokingly inquired, "What, did Rex die?" and I said, "No, but wouldn't you feel bad if that was what really happened?" Then Matt piped up, "I would be happy, because then I could marry you!"
Friday, November 12, 2010
Wal-Mart at 8 AM
Have you ever been to Wal-Mart at 8 AM on a weekday? I have.
What, you may ask, is so blog-worthy about Wal-Mart at 8 AM on a weekday? Well, if you are asking that question, you have obviously never had that experience. Otherwise you would have already blogged about it.
Today I went with my mother in law to go grocery shopping. Rex and I are in Kalamazoo this weekend, and he left at 4 AM to go fishing with his dad. His two brothers went off to school (it is Friday, after all), and that left me and Rex's mom. She bought me breakfast at McDonalds (YUM!!), and then we drove over to Wal-Mart to go grocery shopping.
First of all, we showed up to an EMPTY parking lot. It was so empty that I wondered if Wal-Mart was closed. Then I wondered where all of the employees park. Anyway, it was empty. So we pulled into the absolute closest space to the door, parked, and started to eat our breakfasts. About halfway through, an OLD man pulled up into the parking space directly across from us. I mean, out of the thousands of empty parking spaces, he wanted to choose that one?! So Rex's mom was like, "Ahh! Don't look at him! He's glaring at us!" Naturally, I looked at him. The man was sitting in his car, watching us eat breakfast like a hawk watches a mouse eat seeds. I don't know what his problem was. I will say, though, that five minutes later when we finished our breakfast and went to go inside, the man was still inside his car staring at us. WEIRD.
When we went into Wal-Mart, the store was about as empty as the parking lot. As time wore on, a few more people started coming in. They were 95% senior citizens, though. You would have thought it was "Senior Speacial" day or something. So luckily, the aisle for laxatives was pretty busy but there was no line for Velveeta cheese. We got our shopping done pretty fast.
When it was time to go, we decided to go to the self check-out lane. "Welcome to Wal-Mart!" the machine whirred pleasantly. Because the store was so empty and quiet, though, it sounded like, "WELCOME TO WAL-MART!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" It echoed off of the industrial walls, and I wondered if there was a way to turn the machine down. It was SO LOUD. I figured that usually with all of the hustle and bustle in the store, the machine needs to be that loud. In a near empty store, though, it sounded obnoxious. I guess it is helpful for all of the old people, though, because they won't even have to turn up their hearing aids in order to do the self checkout.
Who am I kidding. Old people don't use the self checkout lane. All of that "new fangled technology" is too much for their antique brains.
When we went out to the car an unloaded all of the groceries, I volunteered to go put the cart back. I was the FIRST CART in the cart pick up thingy! That has never happened to me before! I was the very first cart to be put back in the whole parking lot! I looked around to see if I won some sort of prize or something, but I didn't. Apparently that isn't as cool as I think it is...but I think it is pretty cool.
I need to do early morning grocery shopping more often.
What, you may ask, is so blog-worthy about Wal-Mart at 8 AM on a weekday? Well, if you are asking that question, you have obviously never had that experience. Otherwise you would have already blogged about it.
Today I went with my mother in law to go grocery shopping. Rex and I are in Kalamazoo this weekend, and he left at 4 AM to go fishing with his dad. His two brothers went off to school (it is Friday, after all), and that left me and Rex's mom. She bought me breakfast at McDonalds (YUM!!), and then we drove over to Wal-Mart to go grocery shopping.
First of all, we showed up to an EMPTY parking lot. It was so empty that I wondered if Wal-Mart was closed. Then I wondered where all of the employees park. Anyway, it was empty. So we pulled into the absolute closest space to the door, parked, and started to eat our breakfasts. About halfway through, an OLD man pulled up into the parking space directly across from us. I mean, out of the thousands of empty parking spaces, he wanted to choose that one?! So Rex's mom was like, "Ahh! Don't look at him! He's glaring at us!" Naturally, I looked at him. The man was sitting in his car, watching us eat breakfast like a hawk watches a mouse eat seeds. I don't know what his problem was. I will say, though, that five minutes later when we finished our breakfast and went to go inside, the man was still inside his car staring at us. WEIRD.
When we went into Wal-Mart, the store was about as empty as the parking lot. As time wore on, a few more people started coming in. They were 95% senior citizens, though. You would have thought it was "Senior Speacial" day or something. So luckily, the aisle for laxatives was pretty busy but there was no line for Velveeta cheese. We got our shopping done pretty fast.
When it was time to go, we decided to go to the self check-out lane. "Welcome to Wal-Mart!" the machine whirred pleasantly. Because the store was so empty and quiet, though, it sounded like, "WELCOME TO WAL-MART!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" It echoed off of the industrial walls, and I wondered if there was a way to turn the machine down. It was SO LOUD. I figured that usually with all of the hustle and bustle in the store, the machine needs to be that loud. In a near empty store, though, it sounded obnoxious. I guess it is helpful for all of the old people, though, because they won't even have to turn up their hearing aids in order to do the self checkout.
Who am I kidding. Old people don't use the self checkout lane. All of that "new fangled technology" is too much for their antique brains.
When we went out to the car an unloaded all of the groceries, I volunteered to go put the cart back. I was the FIRST CART in the cart pick up thingy! That has never happened to me before! I was the very first cart to be put back in the whole parking lot! I looked around to see if I won some sort of prize or something, but I didn't. Apparently that isn't as cool as I think it is...but I think it is pretty cool.
I need to do early morning grocery shopping more often.
Monday, November 8, 2010
Cougars. Rawr.
Our neighbors Kyle and Karl are getting married!! WHOO HOO!! Oh, and to clarify in case you were wondering: Kyle is a girl.
Anyway, Kyle and Karl's engagement party was on Saturday. It was a PILE of fun. They invited us to come out to the "Watershed," a small restaurant/bar down the street from our apartment complex. Rex and I were expecting a sort of "Main Street Pub" type atmosphere, where it is 80% restaurant and 20% creepy old men hanging out at the bar.
Nope. Not true. We showed up at this small, slightly run down building at the corner of Boonies and Nowhere, and we started planning how long we needed to stay at the party in order to be polite. We walked in, and we were blinded by literally thousands of orange Christmas lights (presumably up from Halloween) decorating every available wall space and every rafter. A dance floor was being run by a DJ in the corner who had disco lights set up to create a "clubby" atmosphere.
Despite the attempts at the "club" atmosphere, the average age of the patrons at that bar was probably hovering around 50. DO NOT, however, make the mistake of thinking that these people wanted to act like 50 year olds. They were all into the "club" thing, no doubt reliving their glory days of fraternity parties back when disco lights were the new-fangled thing.
Let me tell you, the party ended up being one of the funnest I have ever attended. People watching got funnier and funnier as the night wore on (and as these semi-centurions had more and more to drink). If you have never seen a fat bald man with a white beard moving his hips "like yeah" and throwing his hands in the air to Miley Cyrus's "Party in the USA," then trust me - you have not truly lived. Watching a woman who could be my mom grinding up against this man's protruding gut while trying to make sure her fake boobs stayed put in her too-tight shirt? Well, that just made it even better.
The ratio of women to men was about 6:1, so even the fat bald ones (which constituted 90% of them) got lots of action. Some of the women tried to dress all "hip," as if they had picked up a Seventeen magazine on the way to the bar and then swung by the mall to pick up everything that the cover girl was wearing. Other women dressed like they were in a time warp, with sweaters that were manufactured circa 1991, high-rise jeans, and lace up ankle boots (no joke). I'm sure that that outfit used to be sexy...no wait, I'm really not.
To all of my readers: PLEASE never let me become this. NEVER. It was hilarious to watch, but slightly terrifying at the same time. Where do these people COME from?! Then again, I can see myself frequenting this "bar" much more often now that I know of them, so I guess I hope they don't wise up and go do normal grown-up things anytime soon.
Anyway, Kyle and Karl's engagement party was on Saturday. It was a PILE of fun. They invited us to come out to the "Watershed," a small restaurant/bar down the street from our apartment complex. Rex and I were expecting a sort of "Main Street Pub" type atmosphere, where it is 80% restaurant and 20% creepy old men hanging out at the bar.
Nope. Not true. We showed up at this small, slightly run down building at the corner of Boonies and Nowhere, and we started planning how long we needed to stay at the party in order to be polite. We walked in, and we were blinded by literally thousands of orange Christmas lights (presumably up from Halloween) decorating every available wall space and every rafter. A dance floor was being run by a DJ in the corner who had disco lights set up to create a "clubby" atmosphere.
Despite the attempts at the "club" atmosphere, the average age of the patrons at that bar was probably hovering around 50. DO NOT, however, make the mistake of thinking that these people wanted to act like 50 year olds. They were all into the "club" thing, no doubt reliving their glory days of fraternity parties back when disco lights were the new-fangled thing.
Let me tell you, the party ended up being one of the funnest I have ever attended. People watching got funnier and funnier as the night wore on (and as these semi-centurions had more and more to drink). If you have never seen a fat bald man with a white beard moving his hips "like yeah" and throwing his hands in the air to Miley Cyrus's "Party in the USA," then trust me - you have not truly lived. Watching a woman who could be my mom grinding up against this man's protruding gut while trying to make sure her fake boobs stayed put in her too-tight shirt? Well, that just made it even better.
The ratio of women to men was about 6:1, so even the fat bald ones (which constituted 90% of them) got lots of action. Some of the women tried to dress all "hip," as if they had picked up a Seventeen magazine on the way to the bar and then swung by the mall to pick up everything that the cover girl was wearing. Other women dressed like they were in a time warp, with sweaters that were manufactured circa 1991, high-rise jeans, and lace up ankle boots (no joke). I'm sure that that outfit used to be sexy...no wait, I'm really not.
To all of my readers: PLEASE never let me become this. NEVER. It was hilarious to watch, but slightly terrifying at the same time. Where do these people COME from?! Then again, I can see myself frequenting this "bar" much more often now that I know of them, so I guess I hope they don't wise up and go do normal grown-up things anytime soon.
Saturday, November 6, 2010
Holiday Hauntings
MERRY CHRISTMAS TO YOU!!
Am I the first one to say that to you this season? I hope so! Probably not, though, because Halloween was six whole days ago. Ever since then, the world has gone Christmas Crazy!
Rex and I went out running errands today, and it was the first time I have really gone out into the world of retail since Halloween. Holiday cheer is IN YOUR FACE wherever you go. At PetSmart, the door was covered in signs that said, "Seasons Greetings!" "Happy Hanukkah!" "Happy Kwanzaa!" "Merry Christmas!" and every other holiday that happens this time of year...some that I have not even heard of. There were holiday pet costumes for sale - want to dress up your dog as a menorah? I don't.
The seasonal items in PetSmart were really only a training ground for the abundance of holiday cheer items I was suffocated with at Macy's. As soon as we walked in, there was a table of happy children scribbling their letters to Santa, which they dropped into a waist-high red mailbox labeled "SANTA MAIL - PICKED UP DAILY." There were ornaments hanging from miles of garlands which snaked their way around the ceiling and over the glittering counters. There were people bustling around with flushed cheeks and wearing their new winter coats. People were hurrying toward the "Holiday Sale!" racks and purchasing piles upon piles of clothes, as if the "Holiday Sale!" was only going to go through tomorrow. You would have thought it was December 24. I checked my phone to see if I had fallen into some sort of time warp, but no - the date is only November 6.
Walmart was decked out in Christmas decorations for sale. A forest of Christmas trees decorated half of the store. Aisles and aisles of ornaments screamed, "Pick me! Pick me!" Toys that used to be hidden away in the toy department are now proudly displayed in the middle of the store so that the bright fluorescent lights can make them look even brighter and more enticing to unintentionally greedy children (no doubt they will add these toys to the "Santa List" they are about to go mail at Macy's).
Even Home Depot caught the holiday bug. We walked in to see all of the walls at the front of the store painted in bright murals. One was a living room scene which had a bright fireplace with stockings hanging up above it. The names on the stockings were "Rex" and "Chris." No lie. What are the odds of THAT?? It was weird. Home Depot was even giving away free popcorn to kick off the Christmas season! YUM!
I don't know quite what has happened to the world. Christmas is still 48 days away! Plus, Halloween JUST ended! Is there a little storage of elves hanging out in the stockrooms of each store all year, just waiting for the last piece of Halloween candy to be handed out so that - BAM!!!!! - they can come out at night and cover the store in their North Pole necessities? I think that must be what happens. There is no other explanation for how these Christmas decorations have appeared so suddenly, before my pumpkins have even begun to rot.
Am I the first one to say that to you this season? I hope so! Probably not, though, because Halloween was six whole days ago. Ever since then, the world has gone Christmas Crazy!
Rex and I went out running errands today, and it was the first time I have really gone out into the world of retail since Halloween. Holiday cheer is IN YOUR FACE wherever you go. At PetSmart, the door was covered in signs that said, "Seasons Greetings!" "Happy Hanukkah!" "Happy Kwanzaa!" "Merry Christmas!" and every other holiday that happens this time of year...some that I have not even heard of. There were holiday pet costumes for sale - want to dress up your dog as a menorah? I don't.
The seasonal items in PetSmart were really only a training ground for the abundance of holiday cheer items I was suffocated with at Macy's. As soon as we walked in, there was a table of happy children scribbling their letters to Santa, which they dropped into a waist-high red mailbox labeled "SANTA MAIL - PICKED UP DAILY." There were ornaments hanging from miles of garlands which snaked their way around the ceiling and over the glittering counters. There were people bustling around with flushed cheeks and wearing their new winter coats. People were hurrying toward the "Holiday Sale!" racks and purchasing piles upon piles of clothes, as if the "Holiday Sale!" was only going to go through tomorrow. You would have thought it was December 24. I checked my phone to see if I had fallen into some sort of time warp, but no - the date is only November 6.
Walmart was decked out in Christmas decorations for sale. A forest of Christmas trees decorated half of the store. Aisles and aisles of ornaments screamed, "Pick me! Pick me!" Toys that used to be hidden away in the toy department are now proudly displayed in the middle of the store so that the bright fluorescent lights can make them look even brighter and more enticing to unintentionally greedy children (no doubt they will add these toys to the "Santa List" they are about to go mail at Macy's).
Even Home Depot caught the holiday bug. We walked in to see all of the walls at the front of the store painted in bright murals. One was a living room scene which had a bright fireplace with stockings hanging up above it. The names on the stockings were "Rex" and "Chris." No lie. What are the odds of THAT?? It was weird. Home Depot was even giving away free popcorn to kick off the Christmas season! YUM!
I don't know quite what has happened to the world. Christmas is still 48 days away! Plus, Halloween JUST ended! Is there a little storage of elves hanging out in the stockrooms of each store all year, just waiting for the last piece of Halloween candy to be handed out so that - BAM!!!!! - they can come out at night and cover the store in their North Pole necessities? I think that must be what happens. There is no other explanation for how these Christmas decorations have appeared so suddenly, before my pumpkins have even begun to rot.
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Even more teacher stories
Sorry to inundate you with teacher stories...but I just can't resist sharing the awesomeness of my students. As always, names have been changed.
1. I got a really embarrassing case of the hiccups during math class. Have you ever tried to teach with hiccups? It's rough. No one takes you seriously. Anyway, the next morning Maria came in to school and said, "Mrs. Webb? Remember when you got the hiccups? Well, I know that the best way to get rid of hiccups is to eat an entire pack of smarties at once. It always works for me. So here - I brought you a pack of smarties that you can keep in your desk in case of a hiccup emergency." Awww...she's sweet (and so is the candy!).
2. I made up a math rap "Always check your work" in order to help students remember to check their work. I had been nagging the students to check their work for some time, and in an act of desperation I said, "I don't care WHAT you have to do! Write it on your hand! Tatoo it on your forehead! Make it into a rap! Whatever you have to do!" One student said jokingly, "Mrs. Webb, YOU should make a rap for us!" They all laughed at the thought of a teacher making up a math rap. OBVIOUSLY they don't know me very well. I sent them to do practice problems, and three minutes later I called them back to attention with my freshly written song in hand. "Class, as you requested, here is your 'Check Your Work Rap.'" I paused for effect before I began, and the looks on their faces were PRICELESS. They were mostly along the lines of, "You have GOT to be kidding me...she is not really going to rap...is she?? Oh my gosh I think she is actually going to..." Of course I did. And the next day I heard students in the hall singing my rap. And on the next homework that came in, they almost ALL checked their work. I was pleased.
3. In the wake of my "Check Your Work Rap," one of my students showed up to class bringing a "pimp chain" for me. She made it at home - a giant paper "W" decorated with math symbols and attached to a chunky gold chain to wear around my neck. She said she wanted me to have some "bling" since I am such a gangsta teacher. Ha ha!! Clearly, the only option was to wear it all day.
4. In order to help students remember directions on the number line, I taught them a dance called "The Number Line Dance." I offered extra credit for any students who wanted to teach their parents or siblings the number line dance. All they had to do was bring in a note signed by the person who learned the dance. I promised I would teach it to Rex, and they demanded I bring in a note from him as well. Here are some of the notes I got back:
1. This one was in little kid scrawl (very cute): "My brother taught me the Number Line Dance. Now I can do it too. WORD!!"
2. This is from a lawyer parent: "Johnny taught me the number line dance that he learned in class. He taught it to me at approximately 7:30 PM on 11/1/2010 and seems very proficient."
3. This is from a parent who probably wants to kill me: "Jodi taught the whole family the number line dance. She seemed VERY CONCERNED that we all got the words and motions EXACTLY right."
4. This is Rex's note: "Class - This note is to verify that Christine Webb taught me the Number Line Dance. We did the dance at breakfast because the Number Line Dance is always a great way to start your day."
That is only a small sampling...basically I am going to start asking for notes from home a lot more often because they are HILARIOUS!!
Life in sixth grade is awesome...perhaps I will never leave.
1. I got a really embarrassing case of the hiccups during math class. Have you ever tried to teach with hiccups? It's rough. No one takes you seriously. Anyway, the next morning Maria came in to school and said, "Mrs. Webb? Remember when you got the hiccups? Well, I know that the best way to get rid of hiccups is to eat an entire pack of smarties at once. It always works for me. So here - I brought you a pack of smarties that you can keep in your desk in case of a hiccup emergency." Awww...she's sweet (and so is the candy!).
2. I made up a math rap "Always check your work" in order to help students remember to check their work. I had been nagging the students to check their work for some time, and in an act of desperation I said, "I don't care WHAT you have to do! Write it on your hand! Tatoo it on your forehead! Make it into a rap! Whatever you have to do!" One student said jokingly, "Mrs. Webb, YOU should make a rap for us!" They all laughed at the thought of a teacher making up a math rap. OBVIOUSLY they don't know me very well. I sent them to do practice problems, and three minutes later I called them back to attention with my freshly written song in hand. "Class, as you requested, here is your 'Check Your Work Rap.'" I paused for effect before I began, and the looks on their faces were PRICELESS. They were mostly along the lines of, "You have GOT to be kidding me...she is not really going to rap...is she?? Oh my gosh I think she is actually going to..." Of course I did. And the next day I heard students in the hall singing my rap. And on the next homework that came in, they almost ALL checked their work. I was pleased.
3. In the wake of my "Check Your Work Rap," one of my students showed up to class bringing a "pimp chain" for me. She made it at home - a giant paper "W" decorated with math symbols and attached to a chunky gold chain to wear around my neck. She said she wanted me to have some "bling" since I am such a gangsta teacher. Ha ha!! Clearly, the only option was to wear it all day.
4. In order to help students remember directions on the number line, I taught them a dance called "The Number Line Dance." I offered extra credit for any students who wanted to teach their parents or siblings the number line dance. All they had to do was bring in a note signed by the person who learned the dance. I promised I would teach it to Rex, and they demanded I bring in a note from him as well. Here are some of the notes I got back:
1. This one was in little kid scrawl (very cute): "My brother taught me the Number Line Dance. Now I can do it too. WORD!!"
2. This is from a lawyer parent: "Johnny taught me the number line dance that he learned in class. He taught it to me at approximately 7:30 PM on 11/1/2010 and seems very proficient."
3. This is from a parent who probably wants to kill me: "Jodi taught the whole family the number line dance. She seemed VERY CONCERNED that we all got the words and motions EXACTLY right."
4. This is Rex's note: "Class - This note is to verify that Christine Webb taught me the Number Line Dance. We did the dance at breakfast because the Number Line Dance is always a great way to start your day."
That is only a small sampling...basically I am going to start asking for notes from home a lot more often because they are HILARIOUS!!
Life in sixth grade is awesome...perhaps I will never leave.
Friday, October 29, 2010
The Life of a Teacher
More student stories...
1. For my unit on mysteries, the students are writing their own mystery stories. I told them that the story has to be two typed pages long. One student came up to me and said, "But I can't write that much!!" I put my hand on his shoulder and said, "Yes you can. I have faith in you." He turned and sulked away, whining to his friend "I HATE when they have faith in us!!"
2. A student asked me to marry him. I said no, that I am already married. He asked if I would just marry him as a joke, and I told him that I only marry people for real.
3. We had a tornado warning, and my students had to go in the hall and sit facing the walls. Lots of them were panicking. One girl stopped me as I was walking by and said, "Mrs. Webb, are we going to die??" I said, "No, Sara. Do you know how many tornado warnings I have been in? A LOT. And I have never died. Not even once." Her eyes turned hopeful, and she said, "Really?!" "Yes. Really. Not even one time." She was comforted after that, which was a little bit weird but I am glad that it worked.
4. During that same tornado warning, I was making my rounds walking up and down the halls to make sure the students stayed in their safe positions. I heard one student whisper to another, "How come we all sit here but the teachers are walking around?" The student next to her whispered seriously, "It is because they really care about students. They are going to die first in order to keep us safe."
5. One student decided to be snarky during the tornado warning, and he quizzed one of my fellow interns, "What if there is a fire in the building so we have to go outside, but there is a tornado coming so we have to stay inside, and then we try to go outside and find cover but there is a fire there too so we can't?" She seemed kind of flustered and didn't really know what to say, so I cut in with, "Then you die. It's game over, Josh. So you'd better hope that doesn't happen."
Students are so funny. That was the best tornado warning I have ever had in my life.
1. For my unit on mysteries, the students are writing their own mystery stories. I told them that the story has to be two typed pages long. One student came up to me and said, "But I can't write that much!!" I put my hand on his shoulder and said, "Yes you can. I have faith in you." He turned and sulked away, whining to his friend "I HATE when they have faith in us!!"
2. A student asked me to marry him. I said no, that I am already married. He asked if I would just marry him as a joke, and I told him that I only marry people for real.
3. We had a tornado warning, and my students had to go in the hall and sit facing the walls. Lots of them were panicking. One girl stopped me as I was walking by and said, "Mrs. Webb, are we going to die??" I said, "No, Sara. Do you know how many tornado warnings I have been in? A LOT. And I have never died. Not even once." Her eyes turned hopeful, and she said, "Really?!" "Yes. Really. Not even one time." She was comforted after that, which was a little bit weird but I am glad that it worked.
4. During that same tornado warning, I was making my rounds walking up and down the halls to make sure the students stayed in their safe positions. I heard one student whisper to another, "How come we all sit here but the teachers are walking around?" The student next to her whispered seriously, "It is because they really care about students. They are going to die first in order to keep us safe."
5. One student decided to be snarky during the tornado warning, and he quizzed one of my fellow interns, "What if there is a fire in the building so we have to go outside, but there is a tornado coming so we have to stay inside, and then we try to go outside and find cover but there is a fire there too so we can't?" She seemed kind of flustered and didn't really know what to say, so I cut in with, "Then you die. It's game over, Josh. So you'd better hope that doesn't happen."
Students are so funny. That was the best tornado warning I have ever had in my life.
Stress, Sparkles, and a Splash
Yesterday was stressful. It was stressful for a variety of reasons, but the reasons don't really matter. The point is that I was STRESSED OUT. Rex wasn't home, so I was sitting in our apartment getting more and more stressed all by myself. I realized I was spiraling into panic, so I decided to get out of the house and clear my head so that I could refocus and get the things done that I needed to.
I started out driving without a really clear idea of where I was headed. I was just out for a drive. Ten minutes later, I magically found myself pulling into the parking lot of the local bridal shop. Why was I there? I'm still not really sure. I think I have a silk and sparkles radar, and a subconscious part of my brain hones in on those items. Whatever the reason, I found myself walking up to the store. Even as I was walking, the logical part of my brain was saying, "What are you doing here? What are you doing here?!? CHRISTINE - WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?!" I walked in anyway. The woman asked me what she could help me with, and without thinking I blurted out, "I am looking for a tiara." WHAT?! No I'm not! I think there is a part of my brain that is wired to seek out the most girly items in the world, and that part of my brain had somehow wired itself to my voicebox. Anyway, the woman asked me, "Oh, do you already have your dress?" "Yes!" the slightly psychotic part of my brain answered. "It is strapless, and covered in lace..." I went into great detail on my wedding dress (which I neglected to mention that I already used). She said it sounded pretty. And as for the date of my wedding? "May 21." I wasn't even lying - she didn't ask for the YEAR. At that point the logical part of my brain threw up its hands in disgust, as if to say, "You are completely hopeless." Then I proceeded to try on tiaras for absolutely no reason whatsoever. It was fun; reminiscent of playing dress-up when I was three. Even though I couldn't really figure out why I was there, it was fun and helped me to feel less stressed. I went home and counted the experience as a productive endeavor.
Later that night, I decided to take a bath. There are few things in the world more relaxing than a soothing bath. I got the water started and then went back to working on the things I needed to get done. When I anticipated that my bath was probably almost full, I went into the bathroom to check on it. What I found was our VERY curious kitty circling the tub, studying the water. She would pat the surface with her little paw, then jump back all startled when the water was wet. She kept walking around and around the tub, and I knew what was coming next (I'm sure you do too). One time she leaned a liiiiitle too far over (presumably to sniff or lick the water), and SPLASH!!!! The kitty was plunged into the hot water. Because she is so small and our tub is pretty big, she couldn't touch the bottom. She started flailing around like a drowning toddler (she has never been in water before), and she looked very scared. Poor thing! After her rescue, I felt kind of bad for not rescuing her from the edge before she fell in. But it was so funny! And plus, she had to learn that lesson anyway, right?! RIGHT?!?! Fine. I would be a bad mom. I know. Anyway, she looked hilarious with her usually fluffy fur all matted down against her drenched little body. Rex took care of her so that I could still have my bath (although there was kitty fur in it, so I still had to take a shower). He wrapped her in a towel and held her like a little baby Jesus from a nativity scene. She looked pretty angry, though I was confused if it was from falling in the water or from being treated like baby Jesus. Whatever the reason, the poor little kitty had a pretty stressful night. I'm trying to be extra nice to her today to help her de-stress. Perhaps I will take her to go try on tiaras.
I started out driving without a really clear idea of where I was headed. I was just out for a drive. Ten minutes later, I magically found myself pulling into the parking lot of the local bridal shop. Why was I there? I'm still not really sure. I think I have a silk and sparkles radar, and a subconscious part of my brain hones in on those items. Whatever the reason, I found myself walking up to the store. Even as I was walking, the logical part of my brain was saying, "What are you doing here? What are you doing here?!? CHRISTINE - WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?!" I walked in anyway. The woman asked me what she could help me with, and without thinking I blurted out, "I am looking for a tiara." WHAT?! No I'm not! I think there is a part of my brain that is wired to seek out the most girly items in the world, and that part of my brain had somehow wired itself to my voicebox. Anyway, the woman asked me, "Oh, do you already have your dress?" "Yes!" the slightly psychotic part of my brain answered. "It is strapless, and covered in lace..." I went into great detail on my wedding dress (which I neglected to mention that I already used). She said it sounded pretty. And as for the date of my wedding? "May 21." I wasn't even lying - she didn't ask for the YEAR. At that point the logical part of my brain threw up its hands in disgust, as if to say, "You are completely hopeless." Then I proceeded to try on tiaras for absolutely no reason whatsoever. It was fun; reminiscent of playing dress-up when I was three. Even though I couldn't really figure out why I was there, it was fun and helped me to feel less stressed. I went home and counted the experience as a productive endeavor.
Later that night, I decided to take a bath. There are few things in the world more relaxing than a soothing bath. I got the water started and then went back to working on the things I needed to get done. When I anticipated that my bath was probably almost full, I went into the bathroom to check on it. What I found was our VERY curious kitty circling the tub, studying the water. She would pat the surface with her little paw, then jump back all startled when the water was wet. She kept walking around and around the tub, and I knew what was coming next (I'm sure you do too). One time she leaned a liiiiitle too far over (presumably to sniff or lick the water), and SPLASH!!!! The kitty was plunged into the hot water. Because she is so small and our tub is pretty big, she couldn't touch the bottom. She started flailing around like a drowning toddler (she has never been in water before), and she looked very scared. Poor thing! After her rescue, I felt kind of bad for not rescuing her from the edge before she fell in. But it was so funny! And plus, she had to learn that lesson anyway, right?! RIGHT?!?! Fine. I would be a bad mom. I know. Anyway, she looked hilarious with her usually fluffy fur all matted down against her drenched little body. Rex took care of her so that I could still have my bath (although there was kitty fur in it, so I still had to take a shower). He wrapped her in a towel and held her like a little baby Jesus from a nativity scene. She looked pretty angry, though I was confused if it was from falling in the water or from being treated like baby Jesus. Whatever the reason, the poor little kitty had a pretty stressful night. I'm trying to be extra nice to her today to help her de-stress. Perhaps I will take her to go try on tiaras.
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Cultural Differences
This week is a not very busy for Rex and I. He has no exams, and I have a short week due to parent teacher conferences. I also have no homework in my masters classes this week. Hooray! We decided to take advantage of this relaxation time and celebrate being halfway done with the semester. Obviously the best way to do that is with a pizza/pajama party.
We set our plans for "Old School Pajama Party Night" for Monday. I got done with conferences at 7, and we immediately went to Little Caesars to pick up our Hot N Ready. We deliberated over getting crazy bread. We were that annoying couple that says, "Do you want crazy bread?" "I don't know, do YOU want crazy bread?" "I don't care." "I don't either...". Finally the Little Caesars worker chimed in with, "Well, I think you should get the crazy bread." So we did. I think we both secretly wanted it anyway.
With our delicious meal in tow, we headed back to the apartment. We changed into our warmest pajamas and set up the pizza dinner on our bed (obviously pizza at a pajama party needs to be eaten in bed). We talked about our semesters so far and had an awesome time kicking off our pajama party.
Once dinner was over, things started to get complicated. I said, "Okay! Pizza was great - time to do other old school sleepover activities!" and Rex said, "Cool - what movie should we watch?" I explained that no, that is not what people do at sleepovers. His choices for activities were any combination of makeovers, telling secrets, and pillow fights. He told me that no, sleepover activities only consisted of combinations of video games and movies.
What we have here is a matter of cultural differences. Rex only ever went to boy sleepovers, and I only ever went to girl sleepovers. This whole boy/girl sleepover thing was not working out very well because we both had preconceived notions of what a sleepover should be. I asked Rex how boys could ever bond if all they did was play video games and watch movies, and he informed me that boys don't need to discuss their feelings in order to "bond." As a matter of fact, it is actually somewhere in guy code that discussing feelings at a sleepover (or really any other time) is off-limits. He asked me what is the point of doing make-up at sleepovers, because the sleepover attendees are just going to have to wash off the make-up anyway. I tried to explain that getting your beauty on is always fun even if you aren't going out, but I don't think he was understanding.
We came to a standoff. Neither one of us wanted to budge on our old school sleepover activities. Finally we came up with a brilliant compromise. Rex could pick a movie of his choice, and while we watched the movie I would give him a makeover. That is exactly what we did. He chose that we would watch Psych (which was really funny), and I did his make-up. He looked beautiful. I would post a picture here, but he wouldn't let me take any. :-( Let me tell you, though - Rex with sparkly smoky eyes looks GOOD.
It was a very successful sleepover party. The lesson here is about embracing cultural differences and understanding each other's backgrounds. Well, maybe I am stretching that lesson a bit. But the pizza/pajama party was really fun. :-)
We set our plans for "Old School Pajama Party Night" for Monday. I got done with conferences at 7, and we immediately went to Little Caesars to pick up our Hot N Ready. We deliberated over getting crazy bread. We were that annoying couple that says, "Do you want crazy bread?" "I don't know, do YOU want crazy bread?" "I don't care." "I don't either...". Finally the Little Caesars worker chimed in with, "Well, I think you should get the crazy bread." So we did. I think we both secretly wanted it anyway.
With our delicious meal in tow, we headed back to the apartment. We changed into our warmest pajamas and set up the pizza dinner on our bed (obviously pizza at a pajama party needs to be eaten in bed). We talked about our semesters so far and had an awesome time kicking off our pajama party.
Once dinner was over, things started to get complicated. I said, "Okay! Pizza was great - time to do other old school sleepover activities!" and Rex said, "Cool - what movie should we watch?" I explained that no, that is not what people do at sleepovers. His choices for activities were any combination of makeovers, telling secrets, and pillow fights. He told me that no, sleepover activities only consisted of combinations of video games and movies.
What we have here is a matter of cultural differences. Rex only ever went to boy sleepovers, and I only ever went to girl sleepovers. This whole boy/girl sleepover thing was not working out very well because we both had preconceived notions of what a sleepover should be. I asked Rex how boys could ever bond if all they did was play video games and watch movies, and he informed me that boys don't need to discuss their feelings in order to "bond." As a matter of fact, it is actually somewhere in guy code that discussing feelings at a sleepover (or really any other time) is off-limits. He asked me what is the point of doing make-up at sleepovers, because the sleepover attendees are just going to have to wash off the make-up anyway. I tried to explain that getting your beauty on is always fun even if you aren't going out, but I don't think he was understanding.
We came to a standoff. Neither one of us wanted to budge on our old school sleepover activities. Finally we came up with a brilliant compromise. Rex could pick a movie of his choice, and while we watched the movie I would give him a makeover. That is exactly what we did. He chose that we would watch Psych (which was really funny), and I did his make-up. He looked beautiful. I would post a picture here, but he wouldn't let me take any. :-( Let me tell you, though - Rex with sparkly smoky eyes looks GOOD.
It was a very successful sleepover party. The lesson here is about embracing cultural differences and understanding each other's backgrounds. Well, maybe I am stretching that lesson a bit. But the pizza/pajama party was really fun. :-)
Sunday, October 24, 2010
Tiffany's Surprise
I went back to Kalamazoo on Saturday to watch my sister Cara play in her volleyball tournament (she did great!). After the tournament, we went home and had a fun night of cooking and hanging out. While we were hanging out, Cara told me that she thinks her cat Tiffany is pregnant. My parents found Tiffany earlier this summer - she was an abandoned kitten found in the middle of the road. She has (obviously) been much happier living with my family. Anyway, they never got her fixed and Cara was telling me how she might be pregnant.
As I was petting Tiffany and asking her if she was pregnant (she wasn't telling me), I noticed something funny going on in the rear side of her. I said, "Um...Cara? I think Tiffany is actually a man cat..." Cara didn't believe me, but I clearly saw man parts on that cat. Plus, since I have a definitely female kitty, I know what a female cat's rear is supposed to look like. I asked why she had never noticed those parts before, and Cara said, "Oh, I noticed...I just thought it was a weird looking butt." Good job, kiddo. Way to know your biology.
Upon further feline genetaila googling, Cara came to agree with me that Tiffany is, in fact, male. Which means s/he is DEFINITELY not pregnant (sorry, Cara). We cuddled the poor gender confused cat and discussed new names, as "Tiffany" is decidedly female. Tiff was purring and wandering around in his pink sparkly collar and heart-shaped identification tag. The poor thing even has a pink fluffy sparkle bed to sleep in. It's not had a very macho life.
As Tiffany sauntered across the back of the couch where we were sitting, I looked at him and said, "Ha ha - you're actually a man!" and then Tiff jumped on my face. Seriously - he jumped RIGHT on my face. Cara said that he doesn't like being made fun of and was getting revenge on me for "outing" him as a male because he secretly liked his female identity and was mad that I blew his cover. Sorry, Tiffany.
In the end, Cara decided to leave the cat's name as "Tiffany" because he is already used to the name. Also, Cara really saw no point in buying a new bed or a new collar just because the cat "suddenly" has testicles, so now we have the Barbie world male cat named Tiffany.
Oh well - that's about as normal as everything else in my family.
As I was petting Tiffany and asking her if she was pregnant (she wasn't telling me), I noticed something funny going on in the rear side of her. I said, "Um...Cara? I think Tiffany is actually a man cat..." Cara didn't believe me, but I clearly saw man parts on that cat. Plus, since I have a definitely female kitty, I know what a female cat's rear is supposed to look like. I asked why she had never noticed those parts before, and Cara said, "Oh, I noticed...I just thought it was a weird looking butt." Good job, kiddo. Way to know your biology.
Upon further feline genetaila googling, Cara came to agree with me that Tiffany is, in fact, male. Which means s/he is DEFINITELY not pregnant (sorry, Cara). We cuddled the poor gender confused cat and discussed new names, as "Tiffany" is decidedly female. Tiff was purring and wandering around in his pink sparkly collar and heart-shaped identification tag. The poor thing even has a pink fluffy sparkle bed to sleep in. It's not had a very macho life.
As Tiffany sauntered across the back of the couch where we were sitting, I looked at him and said, "Ha ha - you're actually a man!" and then Tiff jumped on my face. Seriously - he jumped RIGHT on my face. Cara said that he doesn't like being made fun of and was getting revenge on me for "outing" him as a male because he secretly liked his female identity and was mad that I blew his cover. Sorry, Tiffany.
In the end, Cara decided to leave the cat's name as "Tiffany" because he is already used to the name. Also, Cara really saw no point in buying a new bed or a new collar just because the cat "suddenly" has testicles, so now we have the Barbie world male cat named Tiffany.
Oh well - that's about as normal as everything else in my family.
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
Teacher Stories
Students are funny - this is true. From kindergarten to college, students do funny and stupid things. I feel that in my sixth grade classroom, the thought "I have to blog about that!" runs through my head may times each day. Most of the time, though, I forget about the incident in the midst of trying to do the other five million things a teacher has to do. Here are a few of my favorites from the past week or so, though (names have been changed):
1. At recess I saw some students playing a game of four square. This is not weird. The weird part was that only two students were playing the four player game, and they were using a golf ball because they didn't have a four-square ball. Creative? Definitely. Effective? Not so much.
2. Sometimes students like to complain about subjects they don't like. I have one student in particular who likes to complain a lot, and he sits in the front row. Last week he said, "I hate math!" I looked shocked and appalled, pointed my finger at him and barked, "TAKE IT BACK!" He shrunk down into his seat and said, "I love math!" That was better. A few days later, he said, "I hate Spelling!" I said, "Ben, why do you gotta be such a hater?! Stop hating on stuff! BAD BEN!" Then I took the water bottle that we use to clean the overhead projector and squirted him with it. The whole class (including Ben) busted up laughing. I told them that it works to spray my kitten when she does something bad, so I figured it would work in the class. I would like to note that Ben has not said he hates anything since this incident...so I think it was effective.
3. I have two students who walk into class every day acting like Oompa Loompas. They bob their bodies up and down and walk together chanting weird things. I do not understand the appeal of this. They act totally normal outside of the ten seconds that they are walking into class. Odd.
4. I have a student who is going to be Luigi from Super Mario Brothers for Halloween. He brought in his green Luigi hat to show his fellow classmates, and one of them said, "DUDE!! This would be such a great clubbing hat!" He then put the hat on his head and proceeded to "bust a move." I don't know what kind of clubs sixth graders are going to, but if Luigi hats are common uniform then I simply MUST go check that out.
5. Joey walked into class today playing with a small, feminine looking ring. I said, "Hey Joey, cool ring - is it yours?" Another student said, "No! He has it because he loooooooooves Jenny!" I exclaimed, "Ooooh! Did Jenny give you the ring?" He shrugged and said, "No." I then asked, "Are you going to give her the ring?" He sighed dejectedly and said, "Probably not. I think she would just throw it at my head anyway." He sighed again, put the ring away, and trudged back to his seat. My heart broke a little.
6. Today I was playing with some students at recess when one of them said, "Mrs. Webb, I bet you miss being a kid, don't you?" I said, "Yeah, I do. I know! You be the teacher, and I'll be a sixth grader." She said okay. She looked like she was thinking very hard about something, and then she said, "You know, no one actually knows your name. So I guess even though you wouldn't be 'Mrs. Webb' anymore, we would all just call you 'Webb.'" I guess since I don't have a first name, that means I have to stay being the teacher. Oh, well.
I love sixth grade. I wish you could come visit my class - it's pretty great. I'm sure this blog will be peppered with more stories as the year goes on!
1. At recess I saw some students playing a game of four square. This is not weird. The weird part was that only two students were playing the four player game, and they were using a golf ball because they didn't have a four-square ball. Creative? Definitely. Effective? Not so much.
2. Sometimes students like to complain about subjects they don't like. I have one student in particular who likes to complain a lot, and he sits in the front row. Last week he said, "I hate math!" I looked shocked and appalled, pointed my finger at him and barked, "TAKE IT BACK!" He shrunk down into his seat and said, "I love math!" That was better. A few days later, he said, "I hate Spelling!" I said, "Ben, why do you gotta be such a hater?! Stop hating on stuff! BAD BEN!" Then I took the water bottle that we use to clean the overhead projector and squirted him with it. The whole class (including Ben) busted up laughing. I told them that it works to spray my kitten when she does something bad, so I figured it would work in the class. I would like to note that Ben has not said he hates anything since this incident...so I think it was effective.
3. I have two students who walk into class every day acting like Oompa Loompas. They bob their bodies up and down and walk together chanting weird things. I do not understand the appeal of this. They act totally normal outside of the ten seconds that they are walking into class. Odd.
4. I have a student who is going to be Luigi from Super Mario Brothers for Halloween. He brought in his green Luigi hat to show his fellow classmates, and one of them said, "DUDE!! This would be such a great clubbing hat!" He then put the hat on his head and proceeded to "bust a move." I don't know what kind of clubs sixth graders are going to, but if Luigi hats are common uniform then I simply MUST go check that out.
5. Joey walked into class today playing with a small, feminine looking ring. I said, "Hey Joey, cool ring - is it yours?" Another student said, "No! He has it because he loooooooooves Jenny!" I exclaimed, "Ooooh! Did Jenny give you the ring?" He shrugged and said, "No." I then asked, "Are you going to give her the ring?" He sighed dejectedly and said, "Probably not. I think she would just throw it at my head anyway." He sighed again, put the ring away, and trudged back to his seat. My heart broke a little.
6. Today I was playing with some students at recess when one of them said, "Mrs. Webb, I bet you miss being a kid, don't you?" I said, "Yeah, I do. I know! You be the teacher, and I'll be a sixth grader." She said okay. She looked like she was thinking very hard about something, and then she said, "You know, no one actually knows your name. So I guess even though you wouldn't be 'Mrs. Webb' anymore, we would all just call you 'Webb.'" I guess since I don't have a first name, that means I have to stay being the teacher. Oh, well.
I love sixth grade. I wish you could come visit my class - it's pretty great. I'm sure this blog will be peppered with more stories as the year goes on!
Texting
This post is going to be short, but this incident needs to be recorded.
I just texted my dad and said, "I love you :-)" because I have not talked to him in a while.
His text back reads: "Yo, back at chu shawti!"
If that was YOUR dad, you might think someone stole his phone and was messing with you. Because it is MY dad, though, I know that message is straight from his trendy, racially confused heart. I love him. :-)
I just texted my dad and said, "I love you :-)" because I have not talked to him in a while.
His text back reads: "Yo, back at chu shawti!"
If that was YOUR dad, you might think someone stole his phone and was messing with you. Because it is MY dad, though, I know that message is straight from his trendy, racially confused heart. I love him. :-)
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Human Tornado
Saturday was tons of fun. Our family friend Melanie and her son Travis came up to visit Rex and I. We had a really fun day of hanging out and going to a local apple orchard. Travis is...ummm...crazy. He is five years old, but he has the energy of an entire kindergarten class of five year olds. I must highlight for you some of the examples of his craziness:
1. Within ten minutes of arriving, he broke two of Elsie's toys. They are repairable with duct tape, but still. He is like a little human tornado. He tried to body slam Elsie a few times, but she got away.
2. While he was wrestling with Rex, Mel and I were taking the opportunity to talk and catch up on things. All of a sudden we hear Travis say to Rex, "I am going to kick your ASS!!!!" Mel and I immediately tried not to laugh, but it was really hard. She said, "TRAVIS! You don't hear me talk like that, do you?!" to which he replied, "Yes I do!" If you knew Melanie, you would know the hilarity of this statement. I doubt she has ever said a swear word in her entire life.
3. When we were in the car to go to the apple orchard, I noticed that there were lots of brown stains on the ceiling in the back seat. I asked Travis, "what are those stains on the ceiling?" He replied as if I was SO dumb for not already knowing the answer, "Hot chocolate." If he would have known the word "duh" I bet he would have added it. Obviously it was hot chocolate. I should have known.
4. While at the apple orchard, Travis liked to go play in the kids section while Mel and I sat and talked (Rex, unfortunately, had to stay home to study for the GRE). One of Travis's favorite things to do was to ride the little kid tractors. One time we looked up, and some poor one year old had fallen into Travis's path. He was fervently trying to run over the baby with his tractor, and the baby looked very scared. Mel immediately screamed, "TRAVIS!! STOP TRYING TO RUN OVER THAT KID!" Mel and the baby's dad got to the scene at about the same time, and they both hurriedly pulled their kids off of the tractor track.
5. There was lots of caution tape at the orchard to block off lines where people could line up for the different attractions. I don't think that Travis can read since he is only five, but he must have thought that "Caution" actually meant "Rip me" because that is what he did to every strip of caution tape that we came across. I am telling you - human tornado.
6. One time as Mel and I were walking along chatting, Mel saw Travis tip over an orange cone. She turned and said, "Travis! Pick up that cone!" Then we looked...and as if we were in a movie, we suddenly saw that the entire row of orange cones had ALL been knocked down by Travis. We had to go back and pick them all up again.
7. Travis made a new friend while we waited in line for the train ride. This child was also five. They got along pretty well, until one point when Travis backed the kid into some bushes and wouldn't let him out. The friend said, "Hey! Let me out of here!!" and Mel and I made Travis let his prisoner go.
8. We went back to the kid tractors (probably a poor choice in retrospect), and Mel and I got to chatting again. When we looked up, Travis was BEATING his tractor with the steering wheel that he pulled off of it. Mel went up to him and said, "Honey, that one's broken." Travis replied with "Oh!" and promptly went to find another tractor. I guess he hadn't considered the fact that maybe beating a tractor with its own steering wheel would be ineffective in making it work.
Even though I have some crazy stories, Travis isn't 100% destructo-boy. He can be cute too. Case in point: when MSU won their football game against U of M Saturday night, Travis said, "Mommy, how many years until I can go to Michigan State??" Batten down the hatches, East Lansing. You have thirteen years until Travis arrives. :-)
1. Within ten minutes of arriving, he broke two of Elsie's toys. They are repairable with duct tape, but still. He is like a little human tornado. He tried to body slam Elsie a few times, but she got away.
2. While he was wrestling with Rex, Mel and I were taking the opportunity to talk and catch up on things. All of a sudden we hear Travis say to Rex, "I am going to kick your ASS!!!!" Mel and I immediately tried not to laugh, but it was really hard. She said, "TRAVIS! You don't hear me talk like that, do you?!" to which he replied, "Yes I do!" If you knew Melanie, you would know the hilarity of this statement. I doubt she has ever said a swear word in her entire life.
3. When we were in the car to go to the apple orchard, I noticed that there were lots of brown stains on the ceiling in the back seat. I asked Travis, "what are those stains on the ceiling?" He replied as if I was SO dumb for not already knowing the answer, "Hot chocolate." If he would have known the word "duh" I bet he would have added it. Obviously it was hot chocolate. I should have known.
4. While at the apple orchard, Travis liked to go play in the kids section while Mel and I sat and talked (Rex, unfortunately, had to stay home to study for the GRE). One of Travis's favorite things to do was to ride the little kid tractors. One time we looked up, and some poor one year old had fallen into Travis's path. He was fervently trying to run over the baby with his tractor, and the baby looked very scared. Mel immediately screamed, "TRAVIS!! STOP TRYING TO RUN OVER THAT KID!" Mel and the baby's dad got to the scene at about the same time, and they both hurriedly pulled their kids off of the tractor track.
5. There was lots of caution tape at the orchard to block off lines where people could line up for the different attractions. I don't think that Travis can read since he is only five, but he must have thought that "Caution" actually meant "Rip me" because that is what he did to every strip of caution tape that we came across. I am telling you - human tornado.
6. One time as Mel and I were walking along chatting, Mel saw Travis tip over an orange cone. She turned and said, "Travis! Pick up that cone!" Then we looked...and as if we were in a movie, we suddenly saw that the entire row of orange cones had ALL been knocked down by Travis. We had to go back and pick them all up again.
7. Travis made a new friend while we waited in line for the train ride. This child was also five. They got along pretty well, until one point when Travis backed the kid into some bushes and wouldn't let him out. The friend said, "Hey! Let me out of here!!" and Mel and I made Travis let his prisoner go.
8. We went back to the kid tractors (probably a poor choice in retrospect), and Mel and I got to chatting again. When we looked up, Travis was BEATING his tractor with the steering wheel that he pulled off of it. Mel went up to him and said, "Honey, that one's broken." Travis replied with "Oh!" and promptly went to find another tractor. I guess he hadn't considered the fact that maybe beating a tractor with its own steering wheel would be ineffective in making it work.
Even though I have some crazy stories, Travis isn't 100% destructo-boy. He can be cute too. Case in point: when MSU won their football game against U of M Saturday night, Travis said, "Mommy, how many years until I can go to Michigan State??" Batten down the hatches, East Lansing. You have thirteen years until Travis arrives. :-)
Pick me up at Pancheros
Rex and I had a fun date on Friday night. MSU gave away free tickets to the Spartan hockey game, so we met Rex's newly engaged cousin Drew and his fiancee Caitlin at the game to watch the Spartans lose to Canada. Before the game, though, Rex and I decided to grab dinner at Pancheros. Because we were running late, Rex decided to go park the car and instructed me to go order the food. No problem. So I walked in to order the food, and, well, um, I guess I'll just give you the dialogue. "C" is me, and "P" is "Panchero's guy"
P: Hi!
C: Hi!
P: What can I get for you?
C: What is this new "Barbacoa Burrito"? (pointing at a display)
P: What!? (looks at the display, panicked) I swear to God I have no idea what that is! I have never heard of it!
C: Um, okay. Then I will just order chicken. I know what that is.
P: Okay.
C: So I'll have a chicken burrito bowl with two side tortillas. (Rex and I always do this because when you order a burrito bowl they give you TONS of fillings, and then with two side tortillas we both end up with our own full burrito but we only have to pay for one! Anyway, I digress).
P: Two tortillas? TWO?? As in, "Uno, dos"? TWO? (holds up two fingers)
C: Um, yes.
P: Okay. What kind of beans?
C: Pinto, please.
P: (scoops out a HUGE scoop of black beans and brings them within an inch of the burrito)
C: WAIT! I said pinto beans!
P: (stops right before he dumps the beans, leers up at me mischievously) Ha ha! I know. (dumps the black beans back and gets pinto beans).
C: Thanks.
P: And you said chicken?
C: Yeah.
P: (makes an exaggerated scoop of nothing from an empty container) OOPS! No chicken! HAHAHAHAHAHAHHA! (then he goes to the back counter, gets more chicken, and heaps a generous portion in the bowl) And what kind of salsa would you like?
C: All of them, please.
P: WHAT?!? Every one? Like, ALL of them?
C: Yes, please.
P: Are you sure?
C: Yes.
P: 100% sure? REALLY sure? Like, final answer sure?
C: Uh, yes.
P: Okay. (puts tons of every kind of salsa on, and reaches for the sour cream)
C: Wait! I don't want sour cream!
P: You said every salsa!!
C: Sour cream is NOT salsa.
P: Yes it is!
C: It is not! It is too creamy to be salsa! (Here I really wanted to make some comment about, "And you call yourself a MEXICAN??" But I refrained.)
P: Fine. (finishes making my burrito, sans sour cream. Then we went to the checkout).
P: Anything else for you today?
C: No, thank you.
P: But you forgot something!!
C: What?
P: My number.
C: (awkward laugh). That's okay. I'll just take the burrito.
P: But really, do you want my number?
C: No thanks, but you do make a very good burrito!
P: Well, if you want, I will bring them over sometime. Just tell me where you live and I will bring them there.
C: No really, that's okay.
P: Well, I think you are really cute.
C: Erm, thanks... I hope you have a great night! (awkwardly take my burrito and go find Rex).
The thing is, even though he was creepy, Rex and I got the MOST burrito fillings we have ever gotten before. The bowl couldn't even have a lid because the fillings were spilling out. PLUS the guy undercharged me by fifty cents! So we decided I will always fly solo on ordering our burritos from now on. The Pancheros guy walked by a few times and saw me sitting with Rex, but he didn't say anything (Phew!). When we left, Rex said "Have a good night!" and I said "The burrito was delicious! Thanks!" Then, after Rex turned back around and before I did, the guy WINKED at me!!! The nerve! What a goofball. But what a good burrito. We will be back.
P: Hi!
C: Hi!
P: What can I get for you?
C: What is this new "Barbacoa Burrito"? (pointing at a display)
P: What!? (looks at the display, panicked) I swear to God I have no idea what that is! I have never heard of it!
C: Um, okay. Then I will just order chicken. I know what that is.
P: Okay.
C: So I'll have a chicken burrito bowl with two side tortillas. (Rex and I always do this because when you order a burrito bowl they give you TONS of fillings, and then with two side tortillas we both end up with our own full burrito but we only have to pay for one! Anyway, I digress).
P: Two tortillas? TWO?? As in, "Uno, dos"? TWO? (holds up two fingers)
C: Um, yes.
P: Okay. What kind of beans?
C: Pinto, please.
P: (scoops out a HUGE scoop of black beans and brings them within an inch of the burrito)
C: WAIT! I said pinto beans!
P: (stops right before he dumps the beans, leers up at me mischievously) Ha ha! I know. (dumps the black beans back and gets pinto beans).
C: Thanks.
P: And you said chicken?
C: Yeah.
P: (makes an exaggerated scoop of nothing from an empty container) OOPS! No chicken! HAHAHAHAHAHAHHA! (then he goes to the back counter, gets more chicken, and heaps a generous portion in the bowl) And what kind of salsa would you like?
C: All of them, please.
P: WHAT?!? Every one? Like, ALL of them?
C: Yes, please.
P: Are you sure?
C: Yes.
P: 100% sure? REALLY sure? Like, final answer sure?
C: Uh, yes.
P: Okay. (puts tons of every kind of salsa on, and reaches for the sour cream)
C: Wait! I don't want sour cream!
P: You said every salsa!!
C: Sour cream is NOT salsa.
P: Yes it is!
C: It is not! It is too creamy to be salsa! (Here I really wanted to make some comment about, "And you call yourself a MEXICAN??" But I refrained.)
P: Fine. (finishes making my burrito, sans sour cream. Then we went to the checkout).
P: Anything else for you today?
C: No, thank you.
P: But you forgot something!!
C: What?
P: My number.
C: (awkward laugh). That's okay. I'll just take the burrito.
P: But really, do you want my number?
C: No thanks, but you do make a very good burrito!
P: Well, if you want, I will bring them over sometime. Just tell me where you live and I will bring them there.
C: No really, that's okay.
P: Well, I think you are really cute.
C: Erm, thanks... I hope you have a great night! (awkwardly take my burrito and go find Rex).
The thing is, even though he was creepy, Rex and I got the MOST burrito fillings we have ever gotten before. The bowl couldn't even have a lid because the fillings were spilling out. PLUS the guy undercharged me by fifty cents! So we decided I will always fly solo on ordering our burritos from now on. The Pancheros guy walked by a few times and saw me sitting with Rex, but he didn't say anything (Phew!). When we left, Rex said "Have a good night!" and I said "The burrito was delicious! Thanks!" Then, after Rex turned back around and before I did, the guy WINKED at me!!! The nerve! What a goofball. But what a good burrito. We will be back.
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
The Rice Sock
If you have read my previous post (titled "Fireball"), you know that Rex and I are freezing in our apartment and are trying to find alternate ways to keep warm so we don't have to turn on the heat and pay mucho $$$. "Fireball" was one example of why candles might not be the best idea. Luckily, Rex and I are creative and resourceful...or maybe just a little bit desperate.
This summer when I was at a craft show, a booth was selling little fabric pouches that were filled with rice. When you put them in the microwave they warm up, and then you can put them on aching muscles in order to soothe pain. WELL, Rex and I did not have enough money to buy one of these magic pouches, so we passed on them. I have recently been regretting that decision, though, because a heat pack would be very useful right about now. I have no aching muscles, but I have lots of cold parts that could use some heat.
Rex and I had a brilliant idea. We would make our OWN heat pack! Obviously rice isn't very expensive, and we actually had some in our cupboard already. We decided that sewing a fabric pouch was time consuming and too expensive (we would have to buy fabric and a sewing kit), so we hypothesized that a sock would work just fine. Well...new socks have not been in the budget since, um, well, since we got married. So pretty much, we needed a big sock for our project, and we used the best one we could find. I assume it was a clean, fresh white sock at some point in time...but now it isn't. It's more of a nasty gross dirty sock, even after it has been in the wash. You know the ones I mean - everyone has those socks. So we PACKED the sock with rice and tied off the top. Then the true test - we put it in the microwave.
Our experiment worked!! The sock came out warm and toasty (even if it was kind of smelly), and it stayed warm for hours! So now every night before we go to bed, we warm up the sock and put it in the bed first so that the bed will be warm for us when we get in. Then whoever is cold can lay on the rice sock or hold it like a really nasty gym sock teddy bear. We usually have a slight kicking fight once we're in bed to see who gets to wrap their chilly toes around the rice sock first, but I usually win on account of I am the wife and, as a general rule, wives win everything. ;-)
Last night was a particularly epic rice sock evening. Everything was going normally, and I was having a turn with the rice sock. All of a sudden, I heard Rex give his satisfied "Ah I am so toasty warm" sigh as HE rolled over onto the "rice sock." I turned over to look at him confusedly and immediately screamed, "THAT'S NOT THE RICE SOCK!! IT'S THE KITTEN!" He quickly got off of our kitten, and she glowered up at him as if to say, "Um. That was RUDE!" HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!
After that, Rex had the brilliant idea that perhaps we should make another rice sock so that we don't have to take turns with one and accidentally roll over onto the kitten for warmth. I like this plan. Then he said maybe we should make TEN rice socks so we can fill our whole bed with them and then the whole bed will be toasty instead of just one spot. Who knows? We may have an entire gym class's worth of rice socks by the time this winter is over. But, no matter how it happens, WE WILL STAY WARM!!!
This summer when I was at a craft show, a booth was selling little fabric pouches that were filled with rice. When you put them in the microwave they warm up, and then you can put them on aching muscles in order to soothe pain. WELL, Rex and I did not have enough money to buy one of these magic pouches, so we passed on them. I have recently been regretting that decision, though, because a heat pack would be very useful right about now. I have no aching muscles, but I have lots of cold parts that could use some heat.
Rex and I had a brilliant idea. We would make our OWN heat pack! Obviously rice isn't very expensive, and we actually had some in our cupboard already. We decided that sewing a fabric pouch was time consuming and too expensive (we would have to buy fabric and a sewing kit), so we hypothesized that a sock would work just fine. Well...new socks have not been in the budget since, um, well, since we got married. So pretty much, we needed a big sock for our project, and we used the best one we could find. I assume it was a clean, fresh white sock at some point in time...but now it isn't. It's more of a nasty gross dirty sock, even after it has been in the wash. You know the ones I mean - everyone has those socks. So we PACKED the sock with rice and tied off the top. Then the true test - we put it in the microwave.
Our experiment worked!! The sock came out warm and toasty (even if it was kind of smelly), and it stayed warm for hours! So now every night before we go to bed, we warm up the sock and put it in the bed first so that the bed will be warm for us when we get in. Then whoever is cold can lay on the rice sock or hold it like a really nasty gym sock teddy bear. We usually have a slight kicking fight once we're in bed to see who gets to wrap their chilly toes around the rice sock first, but I usually win on account of I am the wife and, as a general rule, wives win everything. ;-)
Last night was a particularly epic rice sock evening. Everything was going normally, and I was having a turn with the rice sock. All of a sudden, I heard Rex give his satisfied "Ah I am so toasty warm" sigh as HE rolled over onto the "rice sock." I turned over to look at him confusedly and immediately screamed, "THAT'S NOT THE RICE SOCK!! IT'S THE KITTEN!" He quickly got off of our kitten, and she glowered up at him as if to say, "Um. That was RUDE!" HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!
After that, Rex had the brilliant idea that perhaps we should make another rice sock so that we don't have to take turns with one and accidentally roll over onto the kitten for warmth. I like this plan. Then he said maybe we should make TEN rice socks so we can fill our whole bed with them and then the whole bed will be toasty instead of just one spot. Who knows? We may have an entire gym class's worth of rice socks by the time this winter is over. But, no matter how it happens, WE WILL STAY WARM!!!
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Fireball
Since it has gotten colder, Rex and I have found a new love for candles. We light them almost every day and see it as a cheap way to heat up our house (which is completely bogus, probably.) I think it works psychosomatically, though, because when we light candles I suddenly feel warmer. Oh, and sometimes I warm my hands by them. I feel like a poor hobo when I do that, but oh well. We have not turned our heat on yet this year and are stubbornly competing to see who will "cave" first and turn the heat on. It could prove to be a very cold winter.
As I sit here with a fleece blanket wrapped around me for warmth (no lie), I am laughing at the memory of lighting the candles in our room yesterday. Rex lit the match, but just as he lit it, the match broke in half and the flamey half catapulted out of his reach. It landed on our carpeted floor. Rex yelled, "Oh crap!" and dove for it. I started busting up laughing. In retrospect, this fireball in our room could have caused some serious problems, but it was just too funny to see the match seemingly jump out of Rex's hand and to watch him dive after this tiny little flying flame. He stood up after retrieving the hazardous match with a look on his face that was half laughing and half horrified. He sputtered disbelievingly, "You LAUGHED?? I almost burnt the apartment down and you think that's hilarious??" Actually, I did think it was hilarious. All's well that ends well, right?
Everything turned out just fine - he got the match put out in time and pretty much all that came of the experience was a lot of laughing. It made me think, though, that maybe we should reconsider the cost of heat against the cost of replacing a carpet. Then again, maybe I'll just light the matches from now on, and we'll be fine. :-)
As I sit here with a fleece blanket wrapped around me for warmth (no lie), I am laughing at the memory of lighting the candles in our room yesterday. Rex lit the match, but just as he lit it, the match broke in half and the flamey half catapulted out of his reach. It landed on our carpeted floor. Rex yelled, "Oh crap!" and dove for it. I started busting up laughing. In retrospect, this fireball in our room could have caused some serious problems, but it was just too funny to see the match seemingly jump out of Rex's hand and to watch him dive after this tiny little flying flame. He stood up after retrieving the hazardous match with a look on his face that was half laughing and half horrified. He sputtered disbelievingly, "You LAUGHED?? I almost burnt the apartment down and you think that's hilarious??" Actually, I did think it was hilarious. All's well that ends well, right?
Everything turned out just fine - he got the match put out in time and pretty much all that came of the experience was a lot of laughing. It made me think, though, that maybe we should reconsider the cost of heat against the cost of replacing a carpet. Then again, maybe I'll just light the matches from now on, and we'll be fine. :-)
Sunday, October 3, 2010
New Church
Rex and I LOVE our church here in East Lansing (URC - University Reformed Church), but we knew that our normal pastor was not going to be speaking today. We decided to take this opportunity to visit another church because we have a few friends who go to other churches in the community, and we wanted to get a taste of what they do on Sunday mornings. I forgot how much fun it can be to visit different churches...and how many fun blogs that activity lends itself to.
A very popular church around here is called Riverview, and we decided to try that one. This church has two locations: one on campus and one while away in Holt. We decided to go to the campus service since we already know where that is.
Let me preface my description of this service by letting you know that Rex is VERY conservative and traditional in what he likes in a church service. Riverview, um, isn't. I don't really care either way, but Rex's reactions to everything in this service were pretty awesome.
First of all, we walked in and saw my friend Cidney talking to some people. She ran up and gave us huge hugs, which was fun. She also told us that she has changed her name to Alexandra now, which is weird. I don't think she was lying, though, because everyone at church was calling her "Alex" or "Alexandra." I can't do it. Her name is Cidney. That was too odd.
So Rex, "Alex," and I went to go sit down in the church service. The service was being held in a lecture hall, so we all sat in seats with desks and the ushers gave us pens and note paper so we could take notes on the sermon. Whoa. As we waited for the service to start, the band (which was AWESOME - guitars, drums, piano, violin, cello, and some I am probably forgetting) played songs by Coldplay and other contemporary secular artists. I'm not sure what that had to do with church, but it sounded pretty cool.
Once the service officially started, the "worship leader" (AKA lead singer in the band) invited us to stand for worship. Now, usually to me this means standing reverently by your chair and singing. At Riverview Campus Church, this means that everyone gets out of their seats, runs to the front, and crowds around the stage, sort of like a "Jesus Mosh Pit." Rex and I must have looked a little bewildered, because Cidney said, "Come on! We have to get a spot up front, or you will never be able to see the words!!" Then she grabbed my arm and literally pulled me through the crowd to the front of the mosh pit. Once the music started, disco lights went on and everyone started moving around and dancing as if we were in "Club Christian" or something. After the first song was over, the band started playing another one. As the intro was playing, I leaned over to Rex and yelled over the music, "This sounds like an intro to a Guns and Roses song." He agreed, and he KNOWS his classic rock, so I know I am not crazy in thinking that. The song that followed the intro was a hard rock song about death and heaven. I am pretty sure that if Guns and Roses was still making music, and if they were a Christian band, that would have been a song of theirs.
After a somewhat jarring worship experience, we headed back to our desks for the sermon. I was surprised to see that the pastor was projected onto a screen - he wasn't even really there! The cool part was that we were hearing the same message that the Holt location was hearing, but it felt weird to watch our pastor on a screen. The whole experience felt very technologically advanced.
Speaking of technologically advanced, the pastor spent the first four minutes of his sermon sitting on stage and dinking around on his ipad. We were starting to think that he didn't realize that he was being streamed live to our location. Four minutes is a REALLY long time to sit in uncomfortable silence. After the four minutes, though, he proceeded to give a very good sermon on impatience (get the ipad connection now? We were impatient with him to start his sermon. Clever, huh?). About halfway through the sermon, he did a "congregation poll" and had us text answers to him about a question. WHAT?? We were being TOLD to text in church??!! This is NOT what I am used to. Also, he referred to Jesus as "the Dude." I have never heard this before. I can picture the prayers in those Sunday School classrooms: "Lord, you are the Almighty. The Alpha and Omega. The King of Kings. The Dude."
All in all, it was a very modern service, which was weird for Rex and I. I am so glad we went, though, because it is fun to see the different ways that people worship. One way is not better than any other, because the attitude of worship is all that matters. It helped me to make sure that I am focused on the attitude and not caught up in the "church traditions" that I am accustomed to. To be thrown into a completely different atmosphere helps me to analyze why exactly I worship the way I do. I liked it. I'm glad so many of my friends love Riverview, but I am quite sure that Rex and I will once again be warming seats at URC next week.
A very popular church around here is called Riverview, and we decided to try that one. This church has two locations: one on campus and one while away in Holt. We decided to go to the campus service since we already know where that is.
Let me preface my description of this service by letting you know that Rex is VERY conservative and traditional in what he likes in a church service. Riverview, um, isn't. I don't really care either way, but Rex's reactions to everything in this service were pretty awesome.
First of all, we walked in and saw my friend Cidney talking to some people. She ran up and gave us huge hugs, which was fun. She also told us that she has changed her name to Alexandra now, which is weird. I don't think she was lying, though, because everyone at church was calling her "Alex" or "Alexandra." I can't do it. Her name is Cidney. That was too odd.
So Rex, "Alex," and I went to go sit down in the church service. The service was being held in a lecture hall, so we all sat in seats with desks and the ushers gave us pens and note paper so we could take notes on the sermon. Whoa. As we waited for the service to start, the band (which was AWESOME - guitars, drums, piano, violin, cello, and some I am probably forgetting) played songs by Coldplay and other contemporary secular artists. I'm not sure what that had to do with church, but it sounded pretty cool.
Once the service officially started, the "worship leader" (AKA lead singer in the band) invited us to stand for worship. Now, usually to me this means standing reverently by your chair and singing. At Riverview Campus Church, this means that everyone gets out of their seats, runs to the front, and crowds around the stage, sort of like a "Jesus Mosh Pit." Rex and I must have looked a little bewildered, because Cidney said, "Come on! We have to get a spot up front, or you will never be able to see the words!!" Then she grabbed my arm and literally pulled me through the crowd to the front of the mosh pit. Once the music started, disco lights went on and everyone started moving around and dancing as if we were in "Club Christian" or something. After the first song was over, the band started playing another one. As the intro was playing, I leaned over to Rex and yelled over the music, "This sounds like an intro to a Guns and Roses song." He agreed, and he KNOWS his classic rock, so I know I am not crazy in thinking that. The song that followed the intro was a hard rock song about death and heaven. I am pretty sure that if Guns and Roses was still making music, and if they were a Christian band, that would have been a song of theirs.
After a somewhat jarring worship experience, we headed back to our desks for the sermon. I was surprised to see that the pastor was projected onto a screen - he wasn't even really there! The cool part was that we were hearing the same message that the Holt location was hearing, but it felt weird to watch our pastor on a screen. The whole experience felt very technologically advanced.
Speaking of technologically advanced, the pastor spent the first four minutes of his sermon sitting on stage and dinking around on his ipad. We were starting to think that he didn't realize that he was being streamed live to our location. Four minutes is a REALLY long time to sit in uncomfortable silence. After the four minutes, though, he proceeded to give a very good sermon on impatience (get the ipad connection now? We were impatient with him to start his sermon. Clever, huh?). About halfway through the sermon, he did a "congregation poll" and had us text answers to him about a question. WHAT?? We were being TOLD to text in church??!! This is NOT what I am used to. Also, he referred to Jesus as "the Dude." I have never heard this before. I can picture the prayers in those Sunday School classrooms: "Lord, you are the Almighty. The Alpha and Omega. The King of Kings. The Dude."
All in all, it was a very modern service, which was weird for Rex and I. I am so glad we went, though, because it is fun to see the different ways that people worship. One way is not better than any other, because the attitude of worship is all that matters. It helped me to make sure that I am focused on the attitude and not caught up in the "church traditions" that I am accustomed to. To be thrown into a completely different atmosphere helps me to analyze why exactly I worship the way I do. I liked it. I'm glad so many of my friends love Riverview, but I am quite sure that Rex and I will once again be warming seats at URC next week.
Friday, October 1, 2010
Mama Bear
Rex and I just got back from watching his brother Jake (and the rest of the K-Christian football team) play Maple Valley. It was a fun game, and the team won 21-10. YAY Comets! What was interesting, though, is what I learned about myself at the game tonight: I am WAY too overprotective.
As a little back story, I have no brothers. I have one sister and I love her to death, but I have never had a little brother. When I married Rex, I sort of felt like I inherited brothers because he has two of them. Today at school when students asked if I was going to their homecoming game that night, I said, "No, I can't. I'm going to my little brother's game." I justified that to myself by saying that sixth graders wouldn't know what "brother-in-law" means and I didn't want to go through the trouble to explain it, but I think secretly I just liked saying that I have a little brother. Plus, they feel like my brothers anyway, so I think it counts.
Another piece of information you should know: Jacob (the football player and youngest brother) just started dating a new girlfriend named Stephanie. What I heard about her from Jake before they were dating was a bit sketch, but then she apparently "turned cool" and now they are dating. The only solid impression I have of her is from what Jake told me back when she was in the "non-cool" stage, so I think it makes sense that I am a bit skeptical.
On our way to the game we picked up another K-Christian grad, Lindsey, because her boyfriend helps out the JV team and she wanted to go see him. We don't know her very well, and I was looking forward to riding with her and getting to know her better. Well, after this trip, she probably thinks I am insane and will never ride with us again because I grilled her about this girl. I hadn't planned on it!! But while we were riding along I commented, "I wonder if Jake's girlfriend will be there?" Rex said that he didn't know, and Lindsey asked who his girlfriend is. I told her, and the following conversation ensued (this is bits and pieces paraphrased - I don't have THAT great of a memory!)
L: Oh! Stephanie's great.
C: Really? Awesome! I'm so glad to hear that.
L: Yeah. She is. Well, I mean, as long as she likes you. She liked me because we played softball together.
C: What if she doesn't like you?
L: Then she's pretty much really mean. Just stay on her good side.
C: How does someone do that?
L: I don't really know. She likes Jake, though, so she would probably like you.
C: I don't care if she likes ME. I'm just wondering if she's going to be nice to Jacob. Do you think she'd be a good girlfriend?
L: Ummm... (scary pause here) I guess we'll find out.
C: Oh, super. You sound so convinced. What are all the awesome things about her? I'm trying to like her here. Don't tell me any more bad things.
L: Ummm...(another scary pause here) She's good at sports!
C: Well, that makes sense on why Jake likes her then! What else?
L: Ummm...I don't really know. I'm sure there's stuff.
Great. I am SO reassured. So then I was already more skeptical, which is not good, and we arrived at the game. I scanned the bleachers looking for Stephanie, and I found her. I immediately noted the following things (my thoughts following those observations are in parentheses):
1. She was wearing his jersey (YAY! She is supportive)
2. She drove all the way to Maple Valley, which is about an hour away from home, to watch his game (YAY! She is dedicated!)
3. She was actually watching the game, which is more than can be said for a lot of high school girls (YAY! She cares about his sport!)
I happily relayed these observations to Rex, and he gave me a weird look that said, "Christine. Stop awkwardly stalking and analyzing Jake's girlfriend." So I tried to concentrate on the game.
The problem was, I couldn't fully concentrate on the game because EVERY time something happened that had anything to do with Jake I would have to glance at Stephanie. Here are some examples:
1. Jake made a nice play! (WHAT IS STEPHANIE DOING??? Okay. She looks proud. Good, that is acceptable.)
2. Jake got hit and now he is limping. (DOES STEPHANIE LOOK ADEQUATELY CONCERNED??? Well, she is wincing. I think that looks concerned. Okay. She passes that one.)
3. It started raining. (STEPHANIE PUT HER HOOD UP! Well, obviously that means...I mean...okay I really need to stop judging her because that one doesn't even make any sense. She probably just wants to stay dry.)
Seriously. It is a problem. His relationship is NONE of my business. Why do I care about it so much? When Rex and I went at half time to get concessions for his family, I saw Stephanie eating some snacks and called out "Hey Stephanie!" She came over.
S: Hi!
C: Hi! I hear you and Jake are "official" now. (DOES STEPHANIE LOOK ADEQUATELY HAPPY ABOUT THAT??? Oh, she's smiling. So I guess yes.)
S: Yeah, we are.
C: That's cool. Congratulations!
S: Yeah, thanks!
(semi-awkward silence in which her sister comes up to tell her that they are going back to the stands)
C: Well, just take care of him, okay?
S: Okay.
C: No but seriously, he is one of the most amazing guys in the world.
S: (somewhat laughing at my ridiculousness) Okay.
And then she walked away. I turned to Rex and said with a panicked look on my face, "I don't think she believes me! He really is! And what if she doesn't treat him that way?!" Rex told me that I was being ridiculous, and that Jake is 16 and can do whatever he wants. He'll be fine. Um, I KNOW that. I just can't seem to ACCEPT it.
I tried SUPER hard in the second half. I really did. But then, after the game was over, REX (yes, I am blaming this one on him) said, "Hey, did you hear what that girl over there just said?" No, I had not. "She said to that other girl, 'You had better tell Sam to tell her sister (who is Stephanie) that he is never even going to like her because she's a b***h and she thinks she's so cool...' and blah blah blah. Pretty much mean things. So THEN I was livid and said (a little too loudly, I must admit), "Oh she had BETTER not be talking about your brother, and she had BETTER not be talking smack about a girl his likes. I will lay down the SMACKDOWN!!!" to which Rex's mom said, "Who are you smacking down?" Oops. So I just said, "Nobody, because Rex heard them wrong. That is what I am telling myself." and I didn't tell her what they "said." But I was all of a sudden defending this random girlfriend who I know hardly anything about to Rex, saying, "She is NOT a b***h! She is cool! Jake likes her, and that means she has to be at least a little awesome! They should not be saying that! They go to K-Christian! How RUDE!" and various other things until Rex got too annoyed with my commentary and the fact that I don't even like her that much but was suddenly all defensive on behalf of Jacob.
On the way home, we were talking for a while when Lindsay asked, "Christine, do you have your own brother to worry about?" To which I responded, "No. So I have to worry about Rex's. Plus, their sister is in Boston so I am taking over the worrying about them for now. And, I have 16 years of worrying about him to make up for."
I am so concerned for my sister Cara...I can't imagine how crazy I'll be about her first boyfriend. I feel bad for her, and I also feel a little bad for the boyfriend. Ha ha...
Anyway, to Jake - I am sorry. I worry about you too much, and I know that. As Rex has said a million times: you are sixteen, you can do what you want, and you will be fine. I KNOW that. I really do. You don't need me to baby you and screen your girlfriends. I just love you and want you to be happy, and this is my twisted way of showing that. At least I have discovered this about myself now, and I can work on it. I've always got your back, though...probably more often than you want me to. :-)
As a little back story, I have no brothers. I have one sister and I love her to death, but I have never had a little brother. When I married Rex, I sort of felt like I inherited brothers because he has two of them. Today at school when students asked if I was going to their homecoming game that night, I said, "No, I can't. I'm going to my little brother's game." I justified that to myself by saying that sixth graders wouldn't know what "brother-in-law" means and I didn't want to go through the trouble to explain it, but I think secretly I just liked saying that I have a little brother. Plus, they feel like my brothers anyway, so I think it counts.
Another piece of information you should know: Jacob (the football player and youngest brother) just started dating a new girlfriend named Stephanie. What I heard about her from Jake before they were dating was a bit sketch, but then she apparently "turned cool" and now they are dating. The only solid impression I have of her is from what Jake told me back when she was in the "non-cool" stage, so I think it makes sense that I am a bit skeptical.
On our way to the game we picked up another K-Christian grad, Lindsey, because her boyfriend helps out the JV team and she wanted to go see him. We don't know her very well, and I was looking forward to riding with her and getting to know her better. Well, after this trip, she probably thinks I am insane and will never ride with us again because I grilled her about this girl. I hadn't planned on it!! But while we were riding along I commented, "I wonder if Jake's girlfriend will be there?" Rex said that he didn't know, and Lindsey asked who his girlfriend is. I told her, and the following conversation ensued (this is bits and pieces paraphrased - I don't have THAT great of a memory!)
L: Oh! Stephanie's great.
C: Really? Awesome! I'm so glad to hear that.
L: Yeah. She is. Well, I mean, as long as she likes you. She liked me because we played softball together.
C: What if she doesn't like you?
L: Then she's pretty much really mean. Just stay on her good side.
C: How does someone do that?
L: I don't really know. She likes Jake, though, so she would probably like you.
C: I don't care if she likes ME. I'm just wondering if she's going to be nice to Jacob. Do you think she'd be a good girlfriend?
L: Ummm... (scary pause here) I guess we'll find out.
C: Oh, super. You sound so convinced. What are all the awesome things about her? I'm trying to like her here. Don't tell me any more bad things.
L: Ummm...(another scary pause here) She's good at sports!
C: Well, that makes sense on why Jake likes her then! What else?
L: Ummm...I don't really know. I'm sure there's stuff.
Great. I am SO reassured. So then I was already more skeptical, which is not good, and we arrived at the game. I scanned the bleachers looking for Stephanie, and I found her. I immediately noted the following things (my thoughts following those observations are in parentheses):
1. She was wearing his jersey (YAY! She is supportive)
2. She drove all the way to Maple Valley, which is about an hour away from home, to watch his game (YAY! She is dedicated!)
3. She was actually watching the game, which is more than can be said for a lot of high school girls (YAY! She cares about his sport!)
I happily relayed these observations to Rex, and he gave me a weird look that said, "Christine. Stop awkwardly stalking and analyzing Jake's girlfriend." So I tried to concentrate on the game.
The problem was, I couldn't fully concentrate on the game because EVERY time something happened that had anything to do with Jake I would have to glance at Stephanie. Here are some examples:
1. Jake made a nice play! (WHAT IS STEPHANIE DOING??? Okay. She looks proud. Good, that is acceptable.)
2. Jake got hit and now he is limping. (DOES STEPHANIE LOOK ADEQUATELY CONCERNED??? Well, she is wincing. I think that looks concerned. Okay. She passes that one.)
3. It started raining. (STEPHANIE PUT HER HOOD UP! Well, obviously that means...I mean...okay I really need to stop judging her because that one doesn't even make any sense. She probably just wants to stay dry.)
Seriously. It is a problem. His relationship is NONE of my business. Why do I care about it so much? When Rex and I went at half time to get concessions for his family, I saw Stephanie eating some snacks and called out "Hey Stephanie!" She came over.
S: Hi!
C: Hi! I hear you and Jake are "official" now. (DOES STEPHANIE LOOK ADEQUATELY HAPPY ABOUT THAT??? Oh, she's smiling. So I guess yes.)
S: Yeah, we are.
C: That's cool. Congratulations!
S: Yeah, thanks!
(semi-awkward silence in which her sister comes up to tell her that they are going back to the stands)
C: Well, just take care of him, okay?
S: Okay.
C: No but seriously, he is one of the most amazing guys in the world.
S: (somewhat laughing at my ridiculousness) Okay.
And then she walked away. I turned to Rex and said with a panicked look on my face, "I don't think she believes me! He really is! And what if she doesn't treat him that way?!" Rex told me that I was being ridiculous, and that Jake is 16 and can do whatever he wants. He'll be fine. Um, I KNOW that. I just can't seem to ACCEPT it.
I tried SUPER hard in the second half. I really did. But then, after the game was over, REX (yes, I am blaming this one on him) said, "Hey, did you hear what that girl over there just said?" No, I had not. "She said to that other girl, 'You had better tell Sam to tell her sister (who is Stephanie) that he is never even going to like her because she's a b***h and she thinks she's so cool...' and blah blah blah. Pretty much mean things. So THEN I was livid and said (a little too loudly, I must admit), "Oh she had BETTER not be talking about your brother, and she had BETTER not be talking smack about a girl his likes. I will lay down the SMACKDOWN!!!" to which Rex's mom said, "Who are you smacking down?" Oops. So I just said, "Nobody, because Rex heard them wrong. That is what I am telling myself." and I didn't tell her what they "said." But I was all of a sudden defending this random girlfriend who I know hardly anything about to Rex, saying, "She is NOT a b***h! She is cool! Jake likes her, and that means she has to be at least a little awesome! They should not be saying that! They go to K-Christian! How RUDE!" and various other things until Rex got too annoyed with my commentary and the fact that I don't even like her that much but was suddenly all defensive on behalf of Jacob.
On the way home, we were talking for a while when Lindsay asked, "Christine, do you have your own brother to worry about?" To which I responded, "No. So I have to worry about Rex's. Plus, their sister is in Boston so I am taking over the worrying about them for now. And, I have 16 years of worrying about him to make up for."
I am so concerned for my sister Cara...I can't imagine how crazy I'll be about her first boyfriend. I feel bad for her, and I also feel a little bad for the boyfriend. Ha ha...
Anyway, to Jake - I am sorry. I worry about you too much, and I know that. As Rex has said a million times: you are sixteen, you can do what you want, and you will be fine. I KNOW that. I really do. You don't need me to baby you and screen your girlfriends. I just love you and want you to be happy, and this is my twisted way of showing that. At least I have discovered this about myself now, and I can work on it. I've always got your back, though...probably more often than you want me to. :-)
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Surprises
Life is surprising. Period, end of story. Sometimes surprises are good, and sometimes surprises are bad. Sometimes they are big, and sometimes they are little. But they are always there.
Right now I am thinking about big surprises - life changing ones. But whenever I hear about a big, life-changing surprise in someone's life, I always think of the little, otherwise forgotten moments that preceded them. Like the woman who is happily singing in the shower and suddenly notices a lump in her breast, or the high schooler chatting on the phone about boys before she pulls into the intersection and doesn't see the semi coming. Or they could be good surprises, like a girl brushing her hair for an average night out and not realizing that a diamond ring will be hers before the date is over. Or those people who are all grungy and eating their cheerios when suddenly the sweepstakes people show up at their door and give them a million dollars.
Well, I think I might have had a moment like that last night. I was innocently on my computer working on a unit plan. I was contemplating how to best get sixth graders pumped up about reading mysteries when my phone rang.
Thinking it was going to be a totally normal phone call, I picked up with a cheery "Hello?" which was followed a few seconds later with, "Umm...oh my goodness..."
And I was faced with a big surprise a VERY difficult decision.
I haven't yet figured out if this is going to be one of those good life changing surprises or bad ones. It could really go either way. Maybe it won't even turn out to be life changing at all. All I know is that I have this giant decision to make, and I haven't been able to think of anything else all day. I've been completely scatterbrained; my kids were probably wondering what the dickens was wrong with me. Any time I try to do my homework it goes completely haywire...it's like I have stress-induced ADD. To be working on a mystery unit is completely ironic, what with this huge question mark dangling in front of me.
Sorry to blog about this without giving more information on the decision, but I really don't want to say anything about it until the decision has been made. Pretty much I just wanted to blog to see if I could possibly form cohesive thoughts in an informal format (in hopes I might be able to do so in a more formal format on my homework). I don't think I am being very successful. Blah.
I guess I will go play with the kitten again. My professors are going to kill me.
P.S. Just because I feel like some people may wonder, this surprise has NOTHING to do with a baby. I feel like that is the number one thing people ask about if I am ever stressed/surprised/excited/upset about something in life, even if that solution makes no sense in the situation at hand. ARE YOU PREGNANT?? ARE YOU PREGNANT?? ARE YOU PREGNANT?? ARE YOU PREGNANT?? No. I am not pregnant. I will never BE pregnant. We have been over this. So that is not the issue. Ever.
Right now I am thinking about big surprises - life changing ones. But whenever I hear about a big, life-changing surprise in someone's life, I always think of the little, otherwise forgotten moments that preceded them. Like the woman who is happily singing in the shower and suddenly notices a lump in her breast, or the high schooler chatting on the phone about boys before she pulls into the intersection and doesn't see the semi coming. Or they could be good surprises, like a girl brushing her hair for an average night out and not realizing that a diamond ring will be hers before the date is over. Or those people who are all grungy and eating their cheerios when suddenly the sweepstakes people show up at their door and give them a million dollars.
Well, I think I might have had a moment like that last night. I was innocently on my computer working on a unit plan. I was contemplating how to best get sixth graders pumped up about reading mysteries when my phone rang.
Thinking it was going to be a totally normal phone call, I picked up with a cheery "Hello?" which was followed a few seconds later with, "Umm...oh my goodness..."
And I was faced with a big surprise a VERY difficult decision.
I haven't yet figured out if this is going to be one of those good life changing surprises or bad ones. It could really go either way. Maybe it won't even turn out to be life changing at all. All I know is that I have this giant decision to make, and I haven't been able to think of anything else all day. I've been completely scatterbrained; my kids were probably wondering what the dickens was wrong with me. Any time I try to do my homework it goes completely haywire...it's like I have stress-induced ADD. To be working on a mystery unit is completely ironic, what with this huge question mark dangling in front of me.
Sorry to blog about this without giving more information on the decision, but I really don't want to say anything about it until the decision has been made. Pretty much I just wanted to blog to see if I could possibly form cohesive thoughts in an informal format (in hopes I might be able to do so in a more formal format on my homework). I don't think I am being very successful. Blah.
I guess I will go play with the kitten again. My professors are going to kill me.
P.S. Just because I feel like some people may wonder, this surprise has NOTHING to do with a baby. I feel like that is the number one thing people ask about if I am ever stressed/surprised/excited/upset about something in life, even if that solution makes no sense in the situation at hand. ARE YOU PREGNANT?? ARE YOU PREGNANT?? ARE YOU PREGNANT?? ARE YOU PREGNANT?? No. I am not pregnant. I will never BE pregnant. We have been over this. So that is not the issue. Ever.
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