Well, here I am again: stuck on the couch all by myself in our lonely apartment because my husband is "going to be out late." He always says that he is "studying for neuro," but obviously that's not true. Who in their right mind would spend THAT long studying neuro?! Doesn't his study group know the stuff by now?!
This is a tale as old as time, isn't it? The husband kisses his wife goodbye right after dinner because he's going to be working late (again) and says, "Don't wait up for me!" He is super romantic when he is home...possibly to make up for something? To cover his guilt? It's completely obvious what is going on. I can't believe I didn't see it before!
Rex has a secret identity.
Now the question is...what is the secret identity? The obvious first choice is that he is a Russian spy. Uneducated people think that the Cold War ended in the sixties, but those who are well informed know that it just went underground. No one likes Russia. Do you know anyone who dreams of becoming a Russian citizen? No. We still think of Russians as Boris and Natasha from Rocky and Bullwinkle, or as those annoying pre-teen gymnasts who always seem to beat us at the Olympics. That's why the Russians need spies. They need to keep their enemies as close as possible. So it makes sense that Rex would be a Russian spy. He's smart and sneaky. The only issue is...I've known Rex since he was 13. Do they really place spies abroad that young? And he sure does a great job covering his accent. Hmmm... perhaps I will put a tape recorder by our bed so I can hear if he says anything about Communism in his sleep.
If he's not a Russian spy, what else could he be? Oh, I know! He could be a super hero. Maybe he is out late fighting crime. That's why he's been working out so much lately: he has to be able to jump over skyscrapers and stop trains with his bare hands and stuff like that. Well, that makes perfect sense. The only issue with that theory is this: why didn't he ask me to be his sidekick?! I would be an AWESOME sidekick! I can't stand those crazy macho men thinking they can save the world all on their own. He'll come crawling back. Every super hero needs a sidekick. Just you wait - you'll see.
Or maybe he's the opposite of a super hero. Maybe he's a hit man! Ooooh, that one is exciting. Maybe he's a stealthy ninja who works for a local mob. He can take out their enemies one by one. Devoted husband by day, death trap at night. They will make a Lifetime movie about it one day: Rex: The Assassin. It will show clips of him washing the blood off of his hands right before he picks up a dozen blood red roses to bring home to me. Now that's some good irony.
Actually, what if it isn't something cool at all? What if he's picked up some really weird and embarrassing hobby? I am just picturing him approaching me for a very serious conversation: "Christine, I can't live this lie any longer. I haven't been studying for neuro every night. I've...well...I've...um...I've been ballet dancing! There! I said it! I never feel more confident than when I'm in a pink tutu! I can't hold in all of my emotions; I must express myself through the art of dance. I hope you will support me in my dream to become a professional dancer." No, Rex, I won't. If we're paying all of this money for you to go to PT school, you are going to become a physical therapist! (Unless of course you actually ARE sneaking off every night to do ballet. I will obviously support you in whatever you dream of, Honey). ;-)
Oh my gosh are you SANTA?! Is this why you always seem extra busy right around the holidays?! It's not finals week at all, is it? You're getting all of the toys ready for Christmas Eve! The beard, the fat, and the red suit are all a ruse to throw us off of your true identity. Well the jig is up, Rex/Santa. Tomorrow I am telling all of my students that Santa is really 23, not fat, and named Rex. You have a lot of explaining to do. I always knew you were too jolly to be a normal guy. This makes so much sense. Oh, and can I ride Rudolph sometime?
Maybe he got a night job so that he can buy me a really cool Christmas gift (that is, assuming I'm wrong about the Santa thing). I hope it's some really neat-o job like a pug breeder or a pizza taste tester. I hope he's not a male stripper or one of those weird guys that hands out porno cards on the strip. It's not worth it, Rex! Don't give in to the glitter of Sin City just so you can buy me more stuff! Although, if you're a pug breeder, I wouldn't mind that. Can I have a puppy for Christmas?
I am getting off topic here. The point is, my husband has a secret identity! This has the potential to be really cool. If I find out that he's actually been studying neuro this entire time, I'm going to be totally mad. That's so boring. I'm going to go to bed now, and I'll fall asleep dreaming of all of the fabulous things he could be doing. I'll let you know when I find out the truth.
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
Monday, November 14, 2011
My Husband the Dweeb
I know I've been writing a lot about teaching lately. Let me take a break from that for a moment so I can tell you about my husband and his inexplicable antics.
I left for a conference for five days, and when I came back he was even weirder than when I left. That is QUITE the accomplishment.
He now wears a bandana every day. He wears it around his head like a manly headband. Obviously the picture below is not Rex, but I'm just trying to illustrate the style in which he sports this new accessory:
At first I thought it was a fluke, and I decided to let it go. After he kept it on for a while, though, I was forced to ask: "Rex, why are you wearing a bandana?"
He looked at me as if I asked why he was breathing, and he responded with an indignant, "Because it's COOL."
Um...okay. I let it go for a while more, but when he put it on again this morning I decided I had to probe further.
Me: So...about that bandana. Why, exactly, did you start wearing it?
Rex: I'm making it happen.
Me: Oh, like a trend?
Rex: Yeah, it's pretty much awesome. I'm a trendsetter. It's going to catch on.
Me: Why a bandana?
Rex: While you were gone, I went to Wal-Mart to get milk. I saw this bandana for sale and thought, "You know what would be cool? A bandana."
Me: You look like a weirdo.
Rex: That's because it hasn't caught on yet. I look really cool.
Me: You look like a pirate ninja.
Rex: Well, I love it. I bought four so I can wear them everyday.
Good lord. My husband has lost his marbles. People are going to start talking about us as "that guy with the bandana and the girl who's always with him." He looks like he's going to karate chop someone at any moment. He looks like Rosie the Riveter. His hair sticks out of the side of the bandana at odd angles, and when it grows a little bit longer he's going to start looking like a poisonous mushroom. Is he planning on wearing his bandanas to church? I don't know what to do with this.
I always knew I married a weirdo, but he continues to surprise me. I guess husbands can do worse things than try to start odd trends, though. I think I'll wait this one out for a while and see if it wears off.
And if that fails, perhaps I will just "accidentally" let the puppy shred the bandanas. It's a thought.
I left for a conference for five days, and when I came back he was even weirder than when I left. That is QUITE the accomplishment.
He now wears a bandana every day. He wears it around his head like a manly headband. Obviously the picture below is not Rex, but I'm just trying to illustrate the style in which he sports this new accessory:
At first I thought it was a fluke, and I decided to let it go. After he kept it on for a while, though, I was forced to ask: "Rex, why are you wearing a bandana?"
He looked at me as if I asked why he was breathing, and he responded with an indignant, "Because it's COOL."
Um...okay. I let it go for a while more, but when he put it on again this morning I decided I had to probe further.
Me: So...about that bandana. Why, exactly, did you start wearing it?
Rex: I'm making it happen.
Me: Oh, like a trend?
Rex: Yeah, it's pretty much awesome. I'm a trendsetter. It's going to catch on.
Me: Why a bandana?
Rex: While you were gone, I went to Wal-Mart to get milk. I saw this bandana for sale and thought, "You know what would be cool? A bandana."
Me: You look like a weirdo.
Rex: That's because it hasn't caught on yet. I look really cool.
Me: You look like a pirate ninja.
Rex: Well, I love it. I bought four so I can wear them everyday.
Good lord. My husband has lost his marbles. People are going to start talking about us as "that guy with the bandana and the girl who's always with him." He looks like he's going to karate chop someone at any moment. He looks like Rosie the Riveter. His hair sticks out of the side of the bandana at odd angles, and when it grows a little bit longer he's going to start looking like a poisonous mushroom. Is he planning on wearing his bandanas to church? I don't know what to do with this.
I always knew I married a weirdo, but he continues to surprise me. I guess husbands can do worse things than try to start odd trends, though. I think I'll wait this one out for a while and see if it wears off.
And if that fails, perhaps I will just "accidentally" let the puppy shred the bandanas. It's a thought.
Friday, November 11, 2011
Conference
My conference has been really fun so far! Most of the sessions have been very informative, and I've learned SO much. I'm completely overwhelmed with all of the information. I was in a really boring session today, though, so towards the end of it I started writing a letter to Rex instead of taking notes. I really enjoyed writing it, and upon proofreading it I discovered that it might actually make a funny blog post. Even though I wrote it for Rex, I am now going to share it with all of you!
Dear Rex,
This woman's voice is driving me crazy. She sounds like Moaning Myrtle from Harry Potter. It's obnoxious. She thinks she's really funny, but actually she's boring. That stinks, because most of my sessions have been AWESOME. This one isn't, though, so I'm writing a note to you instead of taking notes on the presentation as I should. Ha ha! I'm so rebellious. It's just like government class in high school. I wish you were sitting in front of me right now like you did in Mr. Bolt's class. I'm having fun here, but I miss you a lot.
Okay, here's a quote from my presenter: "...and if you do that, your students will be so bored that they'll start putting beans in their ears. Ha ha ha!!!" Lady, you're not funny. Please give me some beans to stick in my ears. You're killing me.
Her powerpoint shut off! She's freaking out trying to fix it. She's yelling, "TECH! TECHEEEEEEEEE! HELP!" She's just yelling into her micropone. Oh goodness. This is my favorite part of the presentation so far. Maybe we'll finish early!
Crap. Someone in the audience is technologically savvy and helped her fix it. I think we all hate him now. My glimmer of hope has been extinguished.
She's jumped back into her presentation now. She made some inexplicable joke about a tightrope and started laughing so hard that she had to squat down. Literally no one in the audience cracked a smile. We're not trying to be rude; she's just not making any sense!
Here's another gem: (she's talking about uncommon words now, and how just because they're uncommon does not mean they're difficult) "How many times have you read about raccoons today? Hmmmm? Hey - it looks like 'lunchbox' and 'virus' finally have something in common. BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Oh my.
This lecture has gotten much more exciting now that I'm transcribing the highlights for you. It was supposed to end a couple of minutes ago, though, and she's still waxing on about "Zipf's Law." The day that I win on Cash Cab because I know about Zipf's Law, I will call her up and thank her. Until then, though, she's driving me a bit nuts.
I'm going to conclude this letter in VERBATIM the exact way that she just concluded her presentation: "Uhhhh...that's it."
Love,
Christine
Dear Rex,
This woman's voice is driving me crazy. She sounds like Moaning Myrtle from Harry Potter. It's obnoxious. She thinks she's really funny, but actually she's boring. That stinks, because most of my sessions have been AWESOME. This one isn't, though, so I'm writing a note to you instead of taking notes on the presentation as I should. Ha ha! I'm so rebellious. It's just like government class in high school. I wish you were sitting in front of me right now like you did in Mr. Bolt's class. I'm having fun here, but I miss you a lot.
Okay, here's a quote from my presenter: "...and if you do that, your students will be so bored that they'll start putting beans in their ears. Ha ha ha!!!" Lady, you're not funny. Please give me some beans to stick in my ears. You're killing me.
Her powerpoint shut off! She's freaking out trying to fix it. She's yelling, "TECH! TECHEEEEEEEEE! HELP!" She's just yelling into her micropone. Oh goodness. This is my favorite part of the presentation so far. Maybe we'll finish early!
Crap. Someone in the audience is technologically savvy and helped her fix it. I think we all hate him now. My glimmer of hope has been extinguished.
She's jumped back into her presentation now. She made some inexplicable joke about a tightrope and started laughing so hard that she had to squat down. Literally no one in the audience cracked a smile. We're not trying to be rude; she's just not making any sense!
Here's another gem: (she's talking about uncommon words now, and how just because they're uncommon does not mean they're difficult) "How many times have you read about raccoons today? Hmmmm? Hey - it looks like 'lunchbox' and 'virus' finally have something in common. BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Oh my.
This lecture has gotten much more exciting now that I'm transcribing the highlights for you. It was supposed to end a couple of minutes ago, though, and she's still waxing on about "Zipf's Law." The day that I win on Cash Cab because I know about Zipf's Law, I will call her up and thank her. Until then, though, she's driving me a bit nuts.
I'm going to conclude this letter in VERBATIM the exact way that she just concluded her presentation: "Uhhhh...that's it."
Love,
Christine
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
Professional
I am a professional. I am a professional. I am a professional.
I think.
But would a professional leave her phone under a napkin at a restaurant on her very first big-girl business trip? Hmmmmmm? Would she? No.
So I'm kind of professional. Almost a professional. A professional wannabe?
But I have my brand-new-with-tags-on $280 Calvin Klein suit in my bag! Doesn't that make me at least a little bit professional?! DOESN'T IT?!
Here's what happened.
My school is sending me to Orlando to attend a conference. Only five teachers in the whole K-8 school got chosen (we have over 30!), and I was one of them. AHHHH! I'm a first year, and my boss wants ME to represent our school?! No pressure. No other first years were chosen, so I feel like I'm way out of my league here.
Since Saturday, I've dragged Rex to (no lie) 8+ stores trying to find a suit to wear to this conference. My friend (and roommate on this trip) is named Shelley, and she's awesome but she's also the most fashionable person I've ever met. It's a bit intimidating. She said I DEFINITELY need a suit since everyone who's anyone will be wearing a suit at this conference. She's been to a bunch of these before, so I figured she would know.
The problem is, suits are EXPENSIVE. I started at Goodwill to try to find one, but no luck. Well, they had one that was bright (BRIGHT) blue with giant fake jewels all over it, but I didn't really think that's what Shelley was suggesting for me. All the other stores I went to either didn't have my size or were way out of my price range.
Last night, I resigned myself to being the unfashionable one without a suit to wear. I packed up my most businesslike dress and just hoped that they wouldn't hold me accountable to the suit standard since this is my first time at the conference.
Rex surprised me with a fancy dinner date last night to say goodbye. On our way to dinner, we passed a Burlington Coat Factory. I exclaimed, "Hey, we haven't tried there! Maybe they have a suit!" Because my husband loves me, he didn't even roll his eyes or anything. He just drove into the parking lot and steeled himself for another shopping trip. "This is the last store," I promised. "If they don't have a suit, I swear I won't make you look anywhere else."
To make a long story short, they had a beautiful charcoal gray business suit from Calvin Klein on clearance for only $49.99! WHOO HOO! And it FIT! I was so happy. I was now armed with my suit and my kindle (which I got for free with my Office Max teacher rewards points!), so I figured I was about as businesslike as I was going to get.
Rex dropped me off at the airport this morning at 7:00 even though my plane doesn't leave until 10:50. He had to get to class. Knowing I had time to kill, I stopped into the fanciest restaurant I could find for some breakfast. After all, my school gave me a food allowance! I get $266 for a four-day trip. I literally don't know how I'm going to spend that much money on food, seeing as three or four of my meals are already provided by the conference. Whatever I don't spend of the $266 I have to give back, though, so my boss said, "Live a little. Get some good snacks at the airport. You might as well spend it all since you can't keep it." So I ordered the most expensive thing on the menu just because I could. I'm so not used to this. Usually on vacations my dad would give each of us $2 for the dollar menu at McDonalds. Now I have to spend $66.50 per day on food?! That's a week of grocery money PER DAY!
Anyway, I had a delicious meal of some fancy scrambled egg concoction with salsa and cheese and other fancy things, breakfast potatoes, and an orange juice. It was delicious, but it cost $17.50! For BREAKFAST. When she brought the bill, my stomach knotted up. Was I really about to spend $17.50 on ONE MEAL? Yep, I was. I paid the bill, but I was so flustered about my expensive meal and the fact that the woman at the table next to me was YELLING at her husband...that I left my phone under my napkin.
I didn't know this (obviously), and I was just in a hurry to get away from rabid wife and on to my gate. Her poor husband... I wanted to leave him an encouraging note or something: "You can do it! She'll have to run out of steam eventually!" She'd been yelling for twenty minutes, though, and she hadn't run out of steam yet. Poor guy. I don't even know what she was mad about, and I'd been hearing her rant for almost my entire breakfast. Oh well.
I hurried to the Hudson News convenience store to get some gum for my flight. A pack of raisinettes looked pretty good...but it was $3.99 for a bag! I immediately put them back. I decided to go get my favorite drink - a Vitamin Water. Vitamin Waters were $3.49! Stupid airport prices... I was about to turn and walk out of the store empty handed, but then I thought, "Okay Christine, when else in your life are you going to even have the OPTION to buy a $4 bag of rasinettes? Probably never." So I marched up to the counter and spent $9 on my candy, Vitamin Water, and a pack of gum. Oh my...I might be able to use this food allowance faster than I thought!
I settled into Verizon's "Recharge Station" to plug in my computer and write this fabulous blog, but I figured I should text Rex first to let him know that I was safely through security. Unfortunately, I didn't have my phone. AHHHHHHH! I couldn't believe I had already screwed up so badly, and I was only about a half hour into my trip. I rushed back to the restaurant, and luckily the waitress had found my phone under the napkin and kept it for me. Hooray for honest people!
So now here I am at the Verizon Recharge station, writing this blog as I charge my phone and my kindle. Hopefully I've already made the biggest mistake that I'll make on this trip, and luckily none of my coworkers are here to have witness my slip-up. I will pull it together. Starting....NOW. As of 8:43 on 11/9/11 - I am now a professional. I will have good posture, wear posh clothes, and I WILL NOT lose any more of my stuff.
I think.
But would a professional leave her phone under a napkin at a restaurant on her very first big-girl business trip? Hmmmmmm? Would she? No.
So I'm kind of professional. Almost a professional. A professional wannabe?
But I have my brand-new-with-tags-on $280 Calvin Klein suit in my bag! Doesn't that make me at least a little bit professional?! DOESN'T IT?!
Here's what happened.
My school is sending me to Orlando to attend a conference. Only five teachers in the whole K-8 school got chosen (we have over 30!), and I was one of them. AHHHH! I'm a first year, and my boss wants ME to represent our school?! No pressure. No other first years were chosen, so I feel like I'm way out of my league here.
Since Saturday, I've dragged Rex to (no lie) 8+ stores trying to find a suit to wear to this conference. My friend (and roommate on this trip) is named Shelley, and she's awesome but she's also the most fashionable person I've ever met. It's a bit intimidating. She said I DEFINITELY need a suit since everyone who's anyone will be wearing a suit at this conference. She's been to a bunch of these before, so I figured she would know.
The problem is, suits are EXPENSIVE. I started at Goodwill to try to find one, but no luck. Well, they had one that was bright (BRIGHT) blue with giant fake jewels all over it, but I didn't really think that's what Shelley was suggesting for me. All the other stores I went to either didn't have my size or were way out of my price range.
Last night, I resigned myself to being the unfashionable one without a suit to wear. I packed up my most businesslike dress and just hoped that they wouldn't hold me accountable to the suit standard since this is my first time at the conference.
Rex surprised me with a fancy dinner date last night to say goodbye. On our way to dinner, we passed a Burlington Coat Factory. I exclaimed, "Hey, we haven't tried there! Maybe they have a suit!" Because my husband loves me, he didn't even roll his eyes or anything. He just drove into the parking lot and steeled himself for another shopping trip. "This is the last store," I promised. "If they don't have a suit, I swear I won't make you look anywhere else."
To make a long story short, they had a beautiful charcoal gray business suit from Calvin Klein on clearance for only $49.99! WHOO HOO! And it FIT! I was so happy. I was now armed with my suit and my kindle (which I got for free with my Office Max teacher rewards points!), so I figured I was about as businesslike as I was going to get.
Rex dropped me off at the airport this morning at 7:00 even though my plane doesn't leave until 10:50. He had to get to class. Knowing I had time to kill, I stopped into the fanciest restaurant I could find for some breakfast. After all, my school gave me a food allowance! I get $266 for a four-day trip. I literally don't know how I'm going to spend that much money on food, seeing as three or four of my meals are already provided by the conference. Whatever I don't spend of the $266 I have to give back, though, so my boss said, "Live a little. Get some good snacks at the airport. You might as well spend it all since you can't keep it." So I ordered the most expensive thing on the menu just because I could. I'm so not used to this. Usually on vacations my dad would give each of us $2 for the dollar menu at McDonalds. Now I have to spend $66.50 per day on food?! That's a week of grocery money PER DAY!
Anyway, I had a delicious meal of some fancy scrambled egg concoction with salsa and cheese and other fancy things, breakfast potatoes, and an orange juice. It was delicious, but it cost $17.50! For BREAKFAST. When she brought the bill, my stomach knotted up. Was I really about to spend $17.50 on ONE MEAL? Yep, I was. I paid the bill, but I was so flustered about my expensive meal and the fact that the woman at the table next to me was YELLING at her husband...that I left my phone under my napkin.
I didn't know this (obviously), and I was just in a hurry to get away from rabid wife and on to my gate. Her poor husband... I wanted to leave him an encouraging note or something: "You can do it! She'll have to run out of steam eventually!" She'd been yelling for twenty minutes, though, and she hadn't run out of steam yet. Poor guy. I don't even know what she was mad about, and I'd been hearing her rant for almost my entire breakfast. Oh well.
I hurried to the Hudson News convenience store to get some gum for my flight. A pack of raisinettes looked pretty good...but it was $3.99 for a bag! I immediately put them back. I decided to go get my favorite drink - a Vitamin Water. Vitamin Waters were $3.49! Stupid airport prices... I was about to turn and walk out of the store empty handed, but then I thought, "Okay Christine, when else in your life are you going to even have the OPTION to buy a $4 bag of rasinettes? Probably never." So I marched up to the counter and spent $9 on my candy, Vitamin Water, and a pack of gum. Oh my...I might be able to use this food allowance faster than I thought!
I settled into Verizon's "Recharge Station" to plug in my computer and write this fabulous blog, but I figured I should text Rex first to let him know that I was safely through security. Unfortunately, I didn't have my phone. AHHHHHHH! I couldn't believe I had already screwed up so badly, and I was only about a half hour into my trip. I rushed back to the restaurant, and luckily the waitress had found my phone under the napkin and kept it for me. Hooray for honest people!
So now here I am at the Verizon Recharge station, writing this blog as I charge my phone and my kindle. Hopefully I've already made the biggest mistake that I'll make on this trip, and luckily none of my coworkers are here to have witness my slip-up. I will pull it together. Starting....NOW. As of 8:43 on 11/9/11 - I am now a professional. I will have good posture, wear posh clothes, and I WILL NOT lose any more of my stuff.
Girl Code
Please take a second to check out this conversation that went down between a student and I yesterday. She was arguing with her friend about something (but I couldn't hear what). She suddenly said, "I bet Mrs. Webb would agree!" Here's what happened...
Student: I bet Mrs. Webb would agree! Hey, Mrs. Webb - isn't there such a thing as "girl code"?
Me: Of COURSE there is!
Student: And what is rule #1 of said girl code?
Me: Don't date your best friend's ex.
Student: (to her friend) SEE?! I TOLD YOU! EVEN MRS. WEBB KNOWS IT!
Ha ha ha...I couldn't believe I gave her exactly what she was looking for. I'm not sure what to think about the fact that the girl code and it's numbered rules are universal and have not changed since I first heard about them. Girls are crazy... But we live by THE CODE!
Student: I bet Mrs. Webb would agree! Hey, Mrs. Webb - isn't there such a thing as "girl code"?
Me: Of COURSE there is!
Student: And what is rule #1 of said girl code?
Me: Don't date your best friend's ex.
Student: (to her friend) SEE?! I TOLD YOU! EVEN MRS. WEBB KNOWS IT!
Ha ha ha...I couldn't believe I gave her exactly what she was looking for. I'm not sure what to think about the fact that the girl code and it's numbered rules are universal and have not changed since I first heard about them. Girls are crazy... But we live by THE CODE!
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
Kim Kardashian
After 72 days of marriage, Kim Kardashian has filed for divorce.
Imagine Rex's surprise as, when I saw this on TV while I was working out, I immediately jumped up and said, "CRAP - I have to change my lesson plans for tomorrow!"
You see, my seventh grade boys are IN LOVE with Kim K. They have pictures of her all over their binders, backpacks, etc. It's actually kinda creepy, considering that she's 31 and they're 12, but alas. I have been telling them all year to lay off because she is MARRIED, but they have all been telling me that it will never last. I knew they were going to want to talk about it the following day (and, sure enough, the boys accosted me with their jubilation first thing in the morning. They even brought food for a party). I figured I would use their enthusiasm to my advantage.
When the seventh grade students came into class during third period, their warm-up writing assignment was on the board: KIM KARDASHIAN HAS FILED FOR DIVORCE. PLEASE RESPOND TO THIS IN YOUR WRITING JOURNAL BY WRITING AN ESSAY WITH ONE OF THE FOLLOWING TITLES:
1. "Why I should be Kim K's next husband"
2. "How Kim Kardashian can choose a better husband next time"
3. "Why America's preoccupation with celebrities can be dangerous"
I don't think I've ever laughed so hard in grading essays. For your reading pleasure, here are just a couple of the responses I got for choice #1 (which was obviously the most popular choice). Names have been changed:
1. Kim, I think you and I could be a great couple because I'm the type of person who respects people and would never argue with you. Also, I think you're a great person and I am too. I would treat you right and never do anything bad to you and feed you great food, also I am a very good cook and I will make your favorite food for you. When you're sore I would give a massage and buy a hot tub for you for your problems. I'd also give you great advice for your problems and give you everything you need. I'll also help your family and friends when they need it and try my best to help our around the house. I'm not super tall, but an average height of 5'7".
2. Well, the reason I should be Kim Kardashian's next husband is because I'm an easy guy to please. If I'm your next husband, I won't do much. I'll just sit down, play video games, watch the TV shows, play soccer, and play fantasy soccer online. But first before you marry me, you've got to know a couple of things about me. I play soccer and play video games. I'm hitting puberty kind of late, so lay off the deodorant. So I hope this paragraph inspired you.
3. I think your husband should be me because I love squirrels, my name is Francois, I speak French, and I am a good lover. I do not know if I want kids, but if I do I'll let you pick the name. I'll say things to you like I love the way your eyes sparkle, your smile is like babies laughing, your hair is so awesome, and your personality lights up the room. You are the most beautiful girl I have ever seen. Any time you feel gray I will try to make you laugh. I love you and no one can break that.
4. It was November 1, 2011. I was making some chicken nuggets for breakfast. I turned the oven to 400 degrees. My phone vibrated in my pocket. I looked at the screen: contact name "Derek." I answered, and he gave me the news. I just stood there. It would be too much of a commotion to scream or or even to run around the house. I just stood there - knowing there was another chance.
I would be the perfect husband for Kim because usually I answer my phone, I'm funny, a better basketball player than her ex, will listen to her, and I could also bring in a big income! I would be her third husband, and everyone knows that the third time is the charm. I'm smart, good with money, I make great cookies, and will always support and believe in her. That's why I should be her next husband. She made some mistakes in life, but when she marries me she will be flawless.
(This last one was technically responding to prompt #2, but I'm including it anyway).
5. Dear Kim,
Here are the steps to getting a good husband:
1. Call me, Derek Smith (702) 654-0987.
2. Tell me you want to go to lunch.
3. Get to know me.
4. Say yes when I ask you to marry me.
5. Have some progeny, or possibly adopt
6. Live Happily Ever After
I would be a good choice because I am smart, tall, funny, play basketball, am attractive, and I already love you. I will be at your side whenever you need me and I could kiss you all day. I am the best basketball player in the world (better than Kris). I also love dogs and big houses and I looooooooooovvvveee you!
I am SO sending these letters to Kim.
Imagine Rex's surprise as, when I saw this on TV while I was working out, I immediately jumped up and said, "CRAP - I have to change my lesson plans for tomorrow!"
You see, my seventh grade boys are IN LOVE with Kim K. They have pictures of her all over their binders, backpacks, etc. It's actually kinda creepy, considering that she's 31 and they're 12, but alas. I have been telling them all year to lay off because she is MARRIED, but they have all been telling me that it will never last. I knew they were going to want to talk about it the following day (and, sure enough, the boys accosted me with their jubilation first thing in the morning. They even brought food for a party). I figured I would use their enthusiasm to my advantage.
When the seventh grade students came into class during third period, their warm-up writing assignment was on the board: KIM KARDASHIAN HAS FILED FOR DIVORCE. PLEASE RESPOND TO THIS IN YOUR WRITING JOURNAL BY WRITING AN ESSAY WITH ONE OF THE FOLLOWING TITLES:
1. "Why I should be Kim K's next husband"
2. "How Kim Kardashian can choose a better husband next time"
3. "Why America's preoccupation with celebrities can be dangerous"
I don't think I've ever laughed so hard in grading essays. For your reading pleasure, here are just a couple of the responses I got for choice #1 (which was obviously the most popular choice). Names have been changed:
1. Kim, I think you and I could be a great couple because I'm the type of person who respects people and would never argue with you. Also, I think you're a great person and I am too. I would treat you right and never do anything bad to you and feed you great food, also I am a very good cook and I will make your favorite food for you. When you're sore I would give a massage and buy a hot tub for you for your problems. I'd also give you great advice for your problems and give you everything you need. I'll also help your family and friends when they need it and try my best to help our around the house. I'm not super tall, but an average height of 5'7".
2. Well, the reason I should be Kim Kardashian's next husband is because I'm an easy guy to please. If I'm your next husband, I won't do much. I'll just sit down, play video games, watch the TV shows, play soccer, and play fantasy soccer online. But first before you marry me, you've got to know a couple of things about me. I play soccer and play video games. I'm hitting puberty kind of late, so lay off the deodorant. So I hope this paragraph inspired you.
3. I think your husband should be me because I love squirrels, my name is Francois, I speak French, and I am a good lover. I do not know if I want kids, but if I do I'll let you pick the name. I'll say things to you like I love the way your eyes sparkle, your smile is like babies laughing, your hair is so awesome, and your personality lights up the room. You are the most beautiful girl I have ever seen. Any time you feel gray I will try to make you laugh. I love you and no one can break that.
4. It was November 1, 2011. I was making some chicken nuggets for breakfast. I turned the oven to 400 degrees. My phone vibrated in my pocket. I looked at the screen: contact name "Derek." I answered, and he gave me the news. I just stood there. It would be too much of a commotion to scream or or even to run around the house. I just stood there - knowing there was another chance.
I would be the perfect husband for Kim because usually I answer my phone, I'm funny, a better basketball player than her ex, will listen to her, and I could also bring in a big income! I would be her third husband, and everyone knows that the third time is the charm. I'm smart, good with money, I make great cookies, and will always support and believe in her. That's why I should be her next husband. She made some mistakes in life, but when she marries me she will be flawless.
(This last one was technically responding to prompt #2, but I'm including it anyway).
5. Dear Kim,
Here are the steps to getting a good husband:
1. Call me, Derek Smith (702) 654-0987.
2. Tell me you want to go to lunch.
3. Get to know me.
4. Say yes when I ask you to marry me.
5. Have some progeny, or possibly adopt
6. Live Happily Ever After
I would be a good choice because I am smart, tall, funny, play basketball, am attractive, and I already love you. I will be at your side whenever you need me and I could kiss you all day. I am the best basketball player in the world (better than Kris). I also love dogs and big houses and I looooooooooovvvveee you!
I am SO sending these letters to Kim.
Sunday, October 2, 2011
Teacher Stories
I hate that my life has gotten so busy that my blog has to suffer. It doesn't seem right. But then again, I do have to prioritize, and there are about a million and one things that come before this blog. Sorry! Plus, who wants to spend their free time typing out stories when they could be playing with a beagle puppy? Not me.
Anyway, I know there are a zillion stories that I have forgotten because I didn't write them down in time, but here are a few that I remember. Names have been changed.
1. This is my new favorite excuse: "Mrs. Webb, I DID do my homework, but then my notebook exploded." Well, you know, that happens to the best of us. You never know when your notebook might spontaneously explode.
2. A student and his mom came in after school to talk to me about some social issues he has been having. We had a good conversation, and I think things have improved since our talk. The next day, though, he came up to me and said (IN FRONT OF THE WHOLE CLASS), "Hey Mrs. Webb, I just wanted to say thanks for last night." The thing is, he was so sincere and didn't realize the innuendo at all. Luckily, I scanned the classroom and no one else seemed to get it either. *phew!* I'm the only one who found that comment really awkward.
3. We had student council elections last week, so lots of people put up campaign posters. My favorite one said, "Vote For Karen! Seriously, please...I already told my mom I won."
4. I walked out in the hall and found Damian eating Meg's lip gloss. I told him that that is disgusting, but he said, "What?! It tastes GOOD!" Weirdo. Just then, the science teacher came out. I said, "Damian thinks that Meg's lipgloss tastes good. He's eating it straight out of the tube." The teacher said, "Damian, do you realize that lipgloss and vaseline have almost the same ingredients?" He replied, "Maybe that's why I like eating vaseline too!" The science teacher said, "Ok well then you have problems," and walked away. HA HA!
5. I have some special ed students in my eighth grade class who have a difficult time sitting still, so I let them move to different seats or even sit on the floor if they need to, as long as they are paying attention and not disrupting other students. One time Darrel kept getting closer and closer to the white board, and he was totally in my way. I held out my black marker and said, "Darrel. If you get any closer to this board, I am going to draw a mustache on your face with this marker." He jumped gleefully and said, "It will be like I'm becoming a MAN!"
6. My students wear uniforms, and their shirts have to be either red or black. A bunch of students wearing red shirts were spilling into the hall after class, but they hadn't been dismissed yet so I said, "Guys, go back into the room. Stop bleeding into the hallway." Two kids in black shirts said, "We'll be the scab! We'll keep the blood inside!" and they stood shoulder to shoulder and blocked my door so no one could get out. It was really funny, especially since the "blood" was wearing red and the "scab" was black like a real scab.
7. Quote: "Mrs. Webb, Kayla accidentally bit herself! Can she go to the nurse?" Kayla held up a red arm. My answer?: "No, you can't leave. If you're dumb enough to bite yourself, then you REALLY need to stay in school."
8. Every Friday we write mini-essays about what we are going to do over the weekend. This Friday, one of my students said, "I am going to visit my uncle and my aunt, but I hardly know her because she's from Peru." I asked where she and the uncle met, and the student said, "Well, he was looking for an American wife, but he couldn't find any and then he got really desperate so I guess he decided to go get one in Peru. He came back and had one." Isn't that a romantic story?
Life in middle school is crazy but really fun. I wish you could come visit my classroom!
Anyway, I know there are a zillion stories that I have forgotten because I didn't write them down in time, but here are a few that I remember. Names have been changed.
1. This is my new favorite excuse: "Mrs. Webb, I DID do my homework, but then my notebook exploded." Well, you know, that happens to the best of us. You never know when your notebook might spontaneously explode.
2. A student and his mom came in after school to talk to me about some social issues he has been having. We had a good conversation, and I think things have improved since our talk. The next day, though, he came up to me and said (IN FRONT OF THE WHOLE CLASS), "Hey Mrs. Webb, I just wanted to say thanks for last night." The thing is, he was so sincere and didn't realize the innuendo at all. Luckily, I scanned the classroom and no one else seemed to get it either. *phew!* I'm the only one who found that comment really awkward.
3. We had student council elections last week, so lots of people put up campaign posters. My favorite one said, "Vote For Karen! Seriously, please...I already told my mom I won."
4. I walked out in the hall and found Damian eating Meg's lip gloss. I told him that that is disgusting, but he said, "What?! It tastes GOOD!" Weirdo. Just then, the science teacher came out. I said, "Damian thinks that Meg's lipgloss tastes good. He's eating it straight out of the tube." The teacher said, "Damian, do you realize that lipgloss and vaseline have almost the same ingredients?" He replied, "Maybe that's why I like eating vaseline too!" The science teacher said, "Ok well then you have problems," and walked away. HA HA!
5. I have some special ed students in my eighth grade class who have a difficult time sitting still, so I let them move to different seats or even sit on the floor if they need to, as long as they are paying attention and not disrupting other students. One time Darrel kept getting closer and closer to the white board, and he was totally in my way. I held out my black marker and said, "Darrel. If you get any closer to this board, I am going to draw a mustache on your face with this marker." He jumped gleefully and said, "It will be like I'm becoming a MAN!"
6. My students wear uniforms, and their shirts have to be either red or black. A bunch of students wearing red shirts were spilling into the hall after class, but they hadn't been dismissed yet so I said, "Guys, go back into the room. Stop bleeding into the hallway." Two kids in black shirts said, "We'll be the scab! We'll keep the blood inside!" and they stood shoulder to shoulder and blocked my door so no one could get out. It was really funny, especially since the "blood" was wearing red and the "scab" was black like a real scab.
7. Quote: "Mrs. Webb, Kayla accidentally bit herself! Can she go to the nurse?" Kayla held up a red arm. My answer?: "No, you can't leave. If you're dumb enough to bite yourself, then you REALLY need to stay in school."
8. Every Friday we write mini-essays about what we are going to do over the weekend. This Friday, one of my students said, "I am going to visit my uncle and my aunt, but I hardly know her because she's from Peru." I asked where she and the uncle met, and the student said, "Well, he was looking for an American wife, but he couldn't find any and then he got really desperate so I guess he decided to go get one in Peru. He came back and had one." Isn't that a romantic story?
Life in middle school is crazy but really fun. I wish you could come visit my classroom!
Pumpkin Patch
Well, it is OCTOBER. The calendar tells me that it's fall, but the thermometer tells me that it's still summer. It's still 90+ degrees outside every day. I will love the warm weather when there are blizzards back in Michigan, but right now I kind of miss fall.
This feeling of nostalgia is especially poignant when I see the pathetic "pumpkin patches" in Las Vegas. When I think of going to a pumpkin patch, I imagine a beautiful orchard full of apple trees, a hayride taking visitors on tours of trees in every color, corn mazes, cider mills, doughnuts, and - oh yeah - pumpkins. This does not exist in the desert. We don't have apple trees or corn fields, and there aren't farms so there really isn't any reason for hay or hayrides.
Instead, a few parking lots around town have been blocked off and labeled "pumpkin patches." There are hundreds of pumpkins sitting in a parking lot, and they're probably rotten because they sit out in the sun all day and aren't even attached to their vines. It's quite sad, but it's the only place to get pumpkins so people buy them. And schools take FIELD TRIPS to the "pumpkin patch," which is about the funniest thing I have ever heard of. "Come on, kids! Let's go to this patch of asphalt so you can choose a pumpkin that has been imported from hundreds of miles away! Hopefully it doesn't smell like mold when you cut it open!"
I want some apple cider. This is the longest summer EVER. I think it might just feel like summer for the next three years. But then, I guess there are worse things that could happen.
This feeling of nostalgia is especially poignant when I see the pathetic "pumpkin patches" in Las Vegas. When I think of going to a pumpkin patch, I imagine a beautiful orchard full of apple trees, a hayride taking visitors on tours of trees in every color, corn mazes, cider mills, doughnuts, and - oh yeah - pumpkins. This does not exist in the desert. We don't have apple trees or corn fields, and there aren't farms so there really isn't any reason for hay or hayrides.
Instead, a few parking lots around town have been blocked off and labeled "pumpkin patches." There are hundreds of pumpkins sitting in a parking lot, and they're probably rotten because they sit out in the sun all day and aren't even attached to their vines. It's quite sad, but it's the only place to get pumpkins so people buy them. And schools take FIELD TRIPS to the "pumpkin patch," which is about the funniest thing I have ever heard of. "Come on, kids! Let's go to this patch of asphalt so you can choose a pumpkin that has been imported from hundreds of miles away! Hopefully it doesn't smell like mold when you cut it open!"
I want some apple cider. This is the longest summer EVER. I think it might just feel like summer for the next three years. But then, I guess there are worse things that could happen.
Monday, September 19, 2011
The Webb Institute
If you are not related to me...or more specifically to Rex...than I don't know how much sense this post will make. Still, this is MY blog so I will write what I WANT! HA!
Rex's youngest brother told me that he might go to Michigan State to become a teacher because, after reading all of my blog posts, being a teacher sounds fun (duh!). I thought he was kidding at first, but Rex says that he's actually serious. So obviously I am beaming with pride. And he would be a FABULOUS teacher, so I'm pumped for his future students.
I made the comment to Rex, "What if Jake and I work at the same school someday? That would be weird...we'd be Mr. Webb and Mrs. Webb, but we're not married. Odd." To which Rex said, "You should make your own school - The Webb Institute!" I told him that a school of only language arts (my subject) and social studies (Jake's subject) would not be a very good school. Rex said that obviously the Webb Institute would need some more teachers, but they would all have to have the last name "Webb." Here's what we came up with for our students. I think they'll have a wide variety of choices and get a very good education:
Class 1: Language Arts with Christine Webb
Class 2: Social Studies with Jacob Webb
Class 3: "Back in the Day and Country Living" with Grandpa Webb
Class 4: Art with Grandma Webb
Class 5: "Sales, Sarcasm, and General Intimidation" with Rex (Dad) Webb
Class 6: Home Economics with Patricia Webb
Class 7: Gym with Thomas Webb
Class 8: "Science - but only the interesting stuff" with Rex (hunky husband) Webb
We obviously still need a math class, and Michelle can't be included since she's going to get married and change her name someday and become a non-Webb (boo). So we are offering...
Class 9: Math with Elvis Webb (Lesson 1: How many hot dogs can I eat before class is over? Let's count...)
It's going to be a really fabulous school. Start buying stock now (can you buy stock in a school? Hmmm...)
Rex's youngest brother told me that he might go to Michigan State to become a teacher because, after reading all of my blog posts, being a teacher sounds fun (duh!). I thought he was kidding at first, but Rex says that he's actually serious. So obviously I am beaming with pride. And he would be a FABULOUS teacher, so I'm pumped for his future students.
I made the comment to Rex, "What if Jake and I work at the same school someday? That would be weird...we'd be Mr. Webb and Mrs. Webb, but we're not married. Odd." To which Rex said, "You should make your own school - The Webb Institute!" I told him that a school of only language arts (my subject) and social studies (Jake's subject) would not be a very good school. Rex said that obviously the Webb Institute would need some more teachers, but they would all have to have the last name "Webb." Here's what we came up with for our students. I think they'll have a wide variety of choices and get a very good education:
Class 1: Language Arts with Christine Webb
Class 2: Social Studies with Jacob Webb
Class 3: "Back in the Day and Country Living" with Grandpa Webb
Class 4: Art with Grandma Webb
Class 5: "Sales, Sarcasm, and General Intimidation" with Rex (Dad) Webb
Class 6: Home Economics with Patricia Webb
Class 7: Gym with Thomas Webb
Class 8: "Science - but only the interesting stuff" with Rex (hunky husband) Webb
We obviously still need a math class, and Michelle can't be included since she's going to get married and change her name someday and become a non-Webb (boo). So we are offering...
Class 9: Math with Elvis Webb (Lesson 1: How many hot dogs can I eat before class is over? Let's count...)
It's going to be a really fabulous school. Start buying stock now (can you buy stock in a school? Hmmm...)
Thursday, September 15, 2011
Wake Me Up When September Ends
September is sort of a blur for teachers. It's tricky trying to learn the names of everyone in all four of the middle school homerooms, learn about how they learn best, and cater lessons to each one of them. I get home at 5 and have to be in bed between 9 and 10 so that I can get up at 5:45 to do the whole thing over again. I feel like I'm always tired and, even worse, I have been NEGLECTING THIS BLOG! So sorry about that. Hopefully things will settle down a bit after the first few weeks. I have so many teacher stories, but since I haven't been blogging them I have forgotten a bunch of them! BLAST! I'll try to remember as many as I can, though...names are changed...here we go:
1. A third grader came in with a birthday treat (kids always give birthday treats to all of the teachers). I accepted my cupcake with thanks, and she exclaimed, "Ewwww - what's THAT!?" *pointing at the rats* I told her that the animals in the cage are rats, and she said, "That's DISGUSTING!" An outcry arose from my class. They LOVE the rats. One student even yelled, "HEY - those rats are our FAMILY! We LOVE them!" I love the rodent loyalty.
2. Sarah said, "Hey, Mrs. Webb, don't you think I'd look SO CUTE as a pregnant girl?" No, Sarah. I don't. You're thirteen. Try me again in twenty years.
3. Deven asked me, "Mrs. Webb, do we have Labor Day off to celebrate all of the new babies?" I was confused. He explained, "Well, Labor Day...isn't that the day when all of the pregnant women go into labor? And so we have the day off to celebrate all of the new babies?" Not quite...
4. Justin Bieber got into a car accident last week, and I thought the world was going to stop spinning. My eighth graders were talking about it, and one of the girls said, "DON'T PANIC. I heard on the news - his face is FINE." I'm so glad they are concerned with his overall well-being.
5. One of my students is going to be in a wedding next weekend. He proudly came up to me and said, "Mrs. Webb, I'm in a WEDDING! I'm the groomer!" I'm pretty sure he meant "groomsman," but "groomer" made me picture a wedding full of dogs that needs an on-hand groomer, and that made me laugh.
6. I 99% love my job. The other 1% comes on moments like today, when one of my kids said, "Ahhhh! A SCORPION! *stomp* I went over to investigate, and sure enough - there was a squashed scorpion on my floor. EWWWWWWW! That never happened in Michigan. Freaky!
7. We are studying fantasy stories in sixth grade. Today we had a debate on whether or not dragons are real. I said, "I hate to bust up everyone's fun, but I have to tell you the truth: dragons are not real." *general chaos* One of my students piped up, "Sort of like Santa?" to which I replied, "No WAY! Santa is SO real! Only dragons are fake." Ha ha!
8. In seventh grade we're studying historical fiction, and we're reading Fever, 1793. It's about an outbreak of yellow fever in Philidelphia. I asked the students to brainstorm what they would do if they were alive during this time, and one of them said, "I would go find a rainforest." Why? "I'm pretty sure cures grow in the rainforest. There's always those witch doctors getting them from there." Please, someone point me towards a "cure tree." I would be RICH.
9. A teacher told Rob to stop sitting alone on the muddy rocks at recess. He looked completely offended and exclaimed, "but can't you SEE?! I'm becoming one with the EARTH!" I live near the west coast...there are a lot of hippies out here, and I guess they start pretty young.
10. Matt came in and said, "Happy Birthday, Mrs. Webb!" He gave me this BIZARRE looking tropical plant as a birthday gift. It was really nice of him, and I didn't really have the heart to tell him that my birthday isn't until February. So a bunch of students told me happy birthday. They're going to be super confused when February 2 rolls around.
11. Levi came up and said, "Mrs. Webb, what would you do with $50?" I said I didn't know, why? He said, "I won my boy scouts fundraiser, and I got a $100 cash prize! I wanted to spend half of it on you because you're so awesome." I told him that he should spend the money on himself because he earned it, and he said, "Fine. I will buy a couple of legos. But, then - don't you worry - I will get you something COOL." Who knows whether or not he actually will, but it was a cute gesture.
12. We're studying the holocaust because of some literature that we're reading in 8th grade, and one of my girls said, "I think the holocaust was cool. I kind of have a crush on Adolf Hitler." Not knowing what to do with that, I just said, "Well, he's dead. So that crush isn't going to work out for you." What a CREEPER.
13. A student came up to me looking very upset and worried. He said, "I just thought you should know...John and Bill are talking about...you know...that S-E-X word." I think he expected me to faint out of shock.
14. At lunch, someone left their sandwich on the table. I said, "How can someone leave their sandwich?! That's the main part!" Emma whispered in a scandalized tone, "Lots of people just skip the main part of their lunch and eat the goodies. It's so WRONG!" Ha ha...unhealthy? Yes. "WRONG"? Debateable.
15. I told my students that my library is sort of lacking, and that if anyone had old books at their house I would really appreciate donations to share with the class. I said that on Monday, and today is Thursday. In that time, I've had about 150 books donated! My library is STUFFED. The donations included 2 hardcover sets of the Harry Potter books, a hardcover set of the Diary of a Wimpy Kid books, and a bunch of other middle school favorites! I was so thankful that I almost started crying in class when I told them how grateful I was, and that just inspired them to bring MORE books. I swear, I have the BEST kids.
1. A third grader came in with a birthday treat (kids always give birthday treats to all of the teachers). I accepted my cupcake with thanks, and she exclaimed, "Ewwww - what's THAT!?" *pointing at the rats* I told her that the animals in the cage are rats, and she said, "That's DISGUSTING!" An outcry arose from my class. They LOVE the rats. One student even yelled, "HEY - those rats are our FAMILY! We LOVE them!" I love the rodent loyalty.
2. Sarah said, "Hey, Mrs. Webb, don't you think I'd look SO CUTE as a pregnant girl?" No, Sarah. I don't. You're thirteen. Try me again in twenty years.
3. Deven asked me, "Mrs. Webb, do we have Labor Day off to celebrate all of the new babies?" I was confused. He explained, "Well, Labor Day...isn't that the day when all of the pregnant women go into labor? And so we have the day off to celebrate all of the new babies?" Not quite...
4. Justin Bieber got into a car accident last week, and I thought the world was going to stop spinning. My eighth graders were talking about it, and one of the girls said, "DON'T PANIC. I heard on the news - his face is FINE." I'm so glad they are concerned with his overall well-being.
5. One of my students is going to be in a wedding next weekend. He proudly came up to me and said, "Mrs. Webb, I'm in a WEDDING! I'm the groomer!" I'm pretty sure he meant "groomsman," but "groomer" made me picture a wedding full of dogs that needs an on-hand groomer, and that made me laugh.
6. I 99% love my job. The other 1% comes on moments like today, when one of my kids said, "Ahhhh! A SCORPION! *stomp* I went over to investigate, and sure enough - there was a squashed scorpion on my floor. EWWWWWWW! That never happened in Michigan. Freaky!
7. We are studying fantasy stories in sixth grade. Today we had a debate on whether or not dragons are real. I said, "I hate to bust up everyone's fun, but I have to tell you the truth: dragons are not real." *general chaos* One of my students piped up, "Sort of like Santa?" to which I replied, "No WAY! Santa is SO real! Only dragons are fake." Ha ha!
8. In seventh grade we're studying historical fiction, and we're reading Fever, 1793. It's about an outbreak of yellow fever in Philidelphia. I asked the students to brainstorm what they would do if they were alive during this time, and one of them said, "I would go find a rainforest." Why? "I'm pretty sure cures grow in the rainforest. There's always those witch doctors getting them from there." Please, someone point me towards a "cure tree." I would be RICH.
9. A teacher told Rob to stop sitting alone on the muddy rocks at recess. He looked completely offended and exclaimed, "but can't you SEE?! I'm becoming one with the EARTH!" I live near the west coast...there are a lot of hippies out here, and I guess they start pretty young.
10. Matt came in and said, "Happy Birthday, Mrs. Webb!" He gave me this BIZARRE looking tropical plant as a birthday gift. It was really nice of him, and I didn't really have the heart to tell him that my birthday isn't until February. So a bunch of students told me happy birthday. They're going to be super confused when February 2 rolls around.
11. Levi came up and said, "Mrs. Webb, what would you do with $50?" I said I didn't know, why? He said, "I won my boy scouts fundraiser, and I got a $100 cash prize! I wanted to spend half of it on you because you're so awesome." I told him that he should spend the money on himself because he earned it, and he said, "Fine. I will buy a couple of legos. But, then - don't you worry - I will get you something COOL." Who knows whether or not he actually will, but it was a cute gesture.
12. We're studying the holocaust because of some literature that we're reading in 8th grade, and one of my girls said, "I think the holocaust was cool. I kind of have a crush on Adolf Hitler." Not knowing what to do with that, I just said, "Well, he's dead. So that crush isn't going to work out for you." What a CREEPER.
13. A student came up to me looking very upset and worried. He said, "I just thought you should know...John and Bill are talking about...you know...that S-E-X word." I think he expected me to faint out of shock.
14. At lunch, someone left their sandwich on the table. I said, "How can someone leave their sandwich?! That's the main part!" Emma whispered in a scandalized tone, "Lots of people just skip the main part of their lunch and eat the goodies. It's so WRONG!" Ha ha...unhealthy? Yes. "WRONG"? Debateable.
15. I told my students that my library is sort of lacking, and that if anyone had old books at their house I would really appreciate donations to share with the class. I said that on Monday, and today is Thursday. In that time, I've had about 150 books donated! My library is STUFFED. The donations included 2 hardcover sets of the Harry Potter books, a hardcover set of the Diary of a Wimpy Kid books, and a bunch of other middle school favorites! I was so thankful that I almost started crying in class when I told them how grateful I was, and that just inspired them to bring MORE books. I swear, I have the BEST kids.
Thursday, September 1, 2011
Oh Crap...Wait, What?!
Let me begin by telling you that my principal NEVER comes into the classroom to talk to teachers. She's working on a charter to add a high school to our current K-8 school, and she is BUSYBUSYBUSY all the time. So when she came in and said, "Christine, can I please talk to you for a minute? I have to ask you something serious." I understandably became VERY nervous. Her intro wasn't very encouraging either:
"First of all, before I say anything else, I want you to know that I really value you as a teacher."
What did I do?! I wracked my brain to try to think of why she was talking to me. Did I get a parent complaint? Were my lesson plans not thorough enough? Was I dressed inappropriately? Did I do something a little too extreme? I thought guiltily about my "Motif Rap" from yesterday...did she find out about that? Was there something wrong with educational rapping at this school?
I tried to think of anything that I could be in trouble for, but I really didn't know. So I just gulped and said, "Yes, thank you. I appreciate that. I really enjoy working here" while secretly thinking *pleasedon'tfiremepleasedon'tfiremepleasedon'tfireme.*
She continued on. "A lot of new teachers get curious about the district (there is only ONE school district in Las Vegas). Clark County controls a lot around here. I know they have a lot to offer, but I would really hope that if you were thinking about leaving our school you would talk to me about it well before you decide to go."
I wanted to laugh out loud from relief and disbelief. She thought I wanted to LEAVE? BAHAHAHAHAHA! That's the funniest thing I've ever heard! I LOVE this job! It's my DREAM JOB. Trying to find a balance between showing her I was serious without being a suck-up, I said, "No, Connie, I REALLY love this job. I was just talking to my husband last night about the fact that I can see myself working here as long as we stay living in Nevada (I really was, too). I've heard horror stories about the district. I promise that I have no intention of leaving in the foreseeable future. I love it here."
She sighed a sigh of relief. "I can't tell you how good it is to hear that. When I stumble across a teacher like you I always get scared that they're going to leave because lots of other places want them. I think you're really great, though, and I can tell that you're one of the best. Your work is exceptional. That's why I was hoping that you might be willing to go with a me and a handful of other teachers to a conference in Orlando?"
I thought I needed to clean out my ears. WHAT?! Two seconds ago I thought I was in trouble, and now I'm going to FLORIDA? She looked as if she was asking a huge favor of me, and I'm sure I looked really confused.
"Ummm...yes? I would be willing to go?"
She said that she would really appreciate it, as it must be difficult for me to give up a weekend and a couple days of school. Only one other middle school teacher was asked to go. But it would obviously be all expenses paid, and she would really appreciate if I would be willing to attend the conference so I could help lead a professional development at the school. She said that I have the kind of brain that "soaks up things," and she wants to bring teachers who are going to remember the conference's content.
I'm sorry, you're asking if I'm "willing" to go on a free trip to Florida? Yes, I suppose I will sacrifice.
So I guess I'm not getting fired? Phew!
"First of all, before I say anything else, I want you to know that I really value you as a teacher."
What did I do?! I wracked my brain to try to think of why she was talking to me. Did I get a parent complaint? Were my lesson plans not thorough enough? Was I dressed inappropriately? Did I do something a little too extreme? I thought guiltily about my "Motif Rap" from yesterday...did she find out about that? Was there something wrong with educational rapping at this school?
I tried to think of anything that I could be in trouble for, but I really didn't know. So I just gulped and said, "Yes, thank you. I appreciate that. I really enjoy working here" while secretly thinking *pleasedon'tfiremepleasedon'tfiremepleasedon'tfireme.*
She continued on. "A lot of new teachers get curious about the district (there is only ONE school district in Las Vegas). Clark County controls a lot around here. I know they have a lot to offer, but I would really hope that if you were thinking about leaving our school you would talk to me about it well before you decide to go."
I wanted to laugh out loud from relief and disbelief. She thought I wanted to LEAVE? BAHAHAHAHAHA! That's the funniest thing I've ever heard! I LOVE this job! It's my DREAM JOB. Trying to find a balance between showing her I was serious without being a suck-up, I said, "No, Connie, I REALLY love this job. I was just talking to my husband last night about the fact that I can see myself working here as long as we stay living in Nevada (I really was, too). I've heard horror stories about the district. I promise that I have no intention of leaving in the foreseeable future. I love it here."
She sighed a sigh of relief. "I can't tell you how good it is to hear that. When I stumble across a teacher like you I always get scared that they're going to leave because lots of other places want them. I think you're really great, though, and I can tell that you're one of the best. Your work is exceptional. That's why I was hoping that you might be willing to go with a me and a handful of other teachers to a conference in Orlando?"
I thought I needed to clean out my ears. WHAT?! Two seconds ago I thought I was in trouble, and now I'm going to FLORIDA? She looked as if she was asking a huge favor of me, and I'm sure I looked really confused.
"Ummm...yes? I would be willing to go?"
She said that she would really appreciate it, as it must be difficult for me to give up a weekend and a couple days of school. Only one other middle school teacher was asked to go. But it would obviously be all expenses paid, and she would really appreciate if I would be willing to attend the conference so I could help lead a professional development at the school. She said that I have the kind of brain that "soaks up things," and she wants to bring teachers who are going to remember the conference's content.
I'm sorry, you're asking if I'm "willing" to go on a free trip to Florida? Yes, I suppose I will sacrifice.
So I guess I'm not getting fired? Phew!
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Bathroom Battle
Because it is the weekend, I have a bit of extra time to blog! Therefore I will tell you about the epic battle that took place in my bathroom this morning.
It all started because Rex and I were running late for church. We were in the bathroom at the same time, jostling around to try to get our teeth brushed and hair combed as quickly as possible. Rex did something annoying (who remembers what it was now?), and in response I took my toothbrush out of my mouth and smeared it on his face. He was left with a foamy white streak down the side of his cheek.
He responded with, "Oh it is so ON!", quickly grabbed his toothbrush and armed it with a particularly large blob of toothpaste. Realizing that I just started a battle that I didn't know if I could win, I tried to knock the toothbrush out of his hand. It didn't work, and he stuck it in his mouth. He took it out of his mouth and tried to smear the toothpaste on me, but I ducked. In ducking, I lost my balance and tried to grab onto the towel to keep me from hitting the floor. Instead of stabilizing myself, I pulled the towel rod OFF OF THE WALL. It clattered down on top of me.
Showing no mercy, Rex was still coming after me with the slimy toothbrush. I grabbed the towel rod and started using it like a sword, swinging it around in self defense. Rex knew he couldn't get to me without being smashed in the head, so he decided to try a different route. He pulled my perfectly clean church jacket off of the counter and started toward it with the spitty toothbrush. In order to save my jacket, I smashed the jacket with my towel-rod-sword to free it from his clutches. Unfortunately, I hit it a little too hard because it flew threw the air and landed with a sickening "plunk" right in the cat's dirty water bowl! And I mean, that water was DIRTY - brown from all of the food that the cat had accidentally dropped in her water. And my jacket is (was) white! AHHHHHHHHH!
Rex laughed at my horror and ran to the kitchen to put more water on his toothbrush (I was guarding the bathroom sink with my sword). I quickly shut the door and locked it, glad to be safe from the spit. Rex tried to jostle the door open, but I just laughed. He wouldn't be able to get through the modern high-quality locks of our Vegas apartment! I started planning how I could live out the rest of my life in the bathroom. I could drink water from the sink...eat some catfood...is lipstick edible? As I was contemplating these things, Rex PICKED THE LOCK and busted into the bathroom! I screamed as if he were coming at me with a chainsaw instead of a soggy toothbrush (I can only imagine what our neighbors were thinking). Rex backed me into the bathtub and I tried to escape, but as I tried to dash by him I got a big glob of slobbery toothpaste on my arm. EEEEEEEEEEEWWWWWWWWW!
I guess it was my fault for starting it.
The real lesson to learn here is this: wake up early enough that you do not have to share the bathroom with your spouse.
It all started because Rex and I were running late for church. We were in the bathroom at the same time, jostling around to try to get our teeth brushed and hair combed as quickly as possible. Rex did something annoying (who remembers what it was now?), and in response I took my toothbrush out of my mouth and smeared it on his face. He was left with a foamy white streak down the side of his cheek.
He responded with, "Oh it is so ON!", quickly grabbed his toothbrush and armed it with a particularly large blob of toothpaste. Realizing that I just started a battle that I didn't know if I could win, I tried to knock the toothbrush out of his hand. It didn't work, and he stuck it in his mouth. He took it out of his mouth and tried to smear the toothpaste on me, but I ducked. In ducking, I lost my balance and tried to grab onto the towel to keep me from hitting the floor. Instead of stabilizing myself, I pulled the towel rod OFF OF THE WALL. It clattered down on top of me.
Showing no mercy, Rex was still coming after me with the slimy toothbrush. I grabbed the towel rod and started using it like a sword, swinging it around in self defense. Rex knew he couldn't get to me without being smashed in the head, so he decided to try a different route. He pulled my perfectly clean church jacket off of the counter and started toward it with the spitty toothbrush. In order to save my jacket, I smashed the jacket with my towel-rod-sword to free it from his clutches. Unfortunately, I hit it a little too hard because it flew threw the air and landed with a sickening "plunk" right in the cat's dirty water bowl! And I mean, that water was DIRTY - brown from all of the food that the cat had accidentally dropped in her water. And my jacket is (was) white! AHHHHHHHHH!
Rex laughed at my horror and ran to the kitchen to put more water on his toothbrush (I was guarding the bathroom sink with my sword). I quickly shut the door and locked it, glad to be safe from the spit. Rex tried to jostle the door open, but I just laughed. He wouldn't be able to get through the modern high-quality locks of our Vegas apartment! I started planning how I could live out the rest of my life in the bathroom. I could drink water from the sink...eat some catfood...is lipstick edible? As I was contemplating these things, Rex PICKED THE LOCK and busted into the bathroom! I screamed as if he were coming at me with a chainsaw instead of a soggy toothbrush (I can only imagine what our neighbors were thinking). Rex backed me into the bathtub and I tried to escape, but as I tried to dash by him I got a big glob of slobbery toothpaste on my arm. EEEEEEEEEEEWWWWWWWWW!
I guess it was my fault for starting it.
The real lesson to learn here is this: wake up early enough that you do not have to share the bathroom with your spouse.
Saturday, August 27, 2011
Nail Polish Nazi
Today I had what was probably the best and worst manicure of my life.
It was the best manicure because I got to go with my friend Jessica, and it's SO FUN to have a girl friend to actually hang out with IN THE FLESH. I love all of my long-distance friends, but it's nice to actually talk to a girl IN PERSON. Especially one who likes to talk about weddings and girly things. :-)
We decided to go to the mall and get manicures and pedicures in order to look all pretty for my party tonight (It starts in an hour and a half! I'm so excited!). I'm also celebrating the fact that I finished by first week of school, and now that I have a full time job I can actually AFFORD luxuries like manicures and pedicures! Seriously, I feel SO rich. And I'm only a teacher. Ha ha! Oh, well. I'm just thankful to have an income.
Anyway, our pedicures were super fun because we were in side-by-side chairs and got to chat the whole time. We both got cute flower designs painted on our toes - with jewels! - and they look fabulous. I should have known the manicure was going to go badly when I complimented the lady who did my toes, saying, "Wow! That looks amazing! Thank you!" and she GLARED at me and didn't say anything. It was as if "Wow! That looks amazing! Thank you!" means something really offensive in her native language. I was just trying to be nice!
So this lady takes me over to a table for my manicure. I asked if I could get a different color on my fingernails than I did on my toenails because I wanted a more "professional" color on my fingers (my toes are bright pink). She said, "NO! I file your nails now." Startled, I said okay. As she was filing, I said, "Could I please have oval shaped nails?" For some reason corners on my nails really bother me. Instead of filing my fingernails to ovals, though, she said, "NO! Ovals are too old for you. You young - I do squares." Umm...okay. I guess squares are fine too. After giving me the shortest hand massage in the history of the world (I'm not exaggerating - she didn't even spread all of the lotion around), she told me to go wash my hands. Because I can be quite cheeky when I'm annoyed, I said, "Okay but since I'm already getting up to wash my hands, could I please choose a different nail polish color?" She said, "NO! I said wash hands!" I tried to bargain. "Okay, I'll wash my hands first, but THEN can I pick a new color?" She gave up, sighed dejectedly, and said, "FINE." Triumphant, I washed my hands and picked my new color. When I came back, she said that I should pay so that I wouldn't have to get into my wallet with freshly painted nails. I mean, I'm pretty sure that's why. All she said to me was, "YOU PAY NOW!" and gave me a nasty scowl as if I were about to try to pay her with banana peels or something. I gave her my credit card, and she went to go charge the purchase. I asked if I could include a tip in the charge, and she scowled again and said, "NO!" Umm...okay. I guess she preferred a cash tip (I know they CAN take tips electronically because Jessica tipped her girl that way). I only had a dollar in cash, though, so I figured to give her only one dollar would probably be offensive so I ended up giving her nothing. I mean, I TRIED to give her a tip! But she was kind of evil anyway so I probably don't feel as badly as I should.
It was the best manicure because I got to go with my friend Jessica, and it's SO FUN to have a girl friend to actually hang out with IN THE FLESH. I love all of my long-distance friends, but it's nice to actually talk to a girl IN PERSON. Especially one who likes to talk about weddings and girly things. :-)
We decided to go to the mall and get manicures and pedicures in order to look all pretty for my party tonight (It starts in an hour and a half! I'm so excited!). I'm also celebrating the fact that I finished by first week of school, and now that I have a full time job I can actually AFFORD luxuries like manicures and pedicures! Seriously, I feel SO rich. And I'm only a teacher. Ha ha! Oh, well. I'm just thankful to have an income.
Anyway, our pedicures were super fun because we were in side-by-side chairs and got to chat the whole time. We both got cute flower designs painted on our toes - with jewels! - and they look fabulous. I should have known the manicure was going to go badly when I complimented the lady who did my toes, saying, "Wow! That looks amazing! Thank you!" and she GLARED at me and didn't say anything. It was as if "Wow! That looks amazing! Thank you!" means something really offensive in her native language. I was just trying to be nice!
So this lady takes me over to a table for my manicure. I asked if I could get a different color on my fingernails than I did on my toenails because I wanted a more "professional" color on my fingers (my toes are bright pink). She said, "NO! I file your nails now." Startled, I said okay. As she was filing, I said, "Could I please have oval shaped nails?" For some reason corners on my nails really bother me. Instead of filing my fingernails to ovals, though, she said, "NO! Ovals are too old for you. You young - I do squares." Umm...okay. I guess squares are fine too. After giving me the shortest hand massage in the history of the world (I'm not exaggerating - she didn't even spread all of the lotion around), she told me to go wash my hands. Because I can be quite cheeky when I'm annoyed, I said, "Okay but since I'm already getting up to wash my hands, could I please choose a different nail polish color?" She said, "NO! I said wash hands!" I tried to bargain. "Okay, I'll wash my hands first, but THEN can I pick a new color?" She gave up, sighed dejectedly, and said, "FINE." Triumphant, I washed my hands and picked my new color. When I came back, she said that I should pay so that I wouldn't have to get into my wallet with freshly painted nails. I mean, I'm pretty sure that's why. All she said to me was, "YOU PAY NOW!" and gave me a nasty scowl as if I were about to try to pay her with banana peels or something. I gave her my credit card, and she went to go charge the purchase. I asked if I could include a tip in the charge, and she scowled again and said, "NO!" Umm...okay. I guess she preferred a cash tip (I know they CAN take tips electronically because Jessica tipped her girl that way). I only had a dollar in cash, though, so I figured to give her only one dollar would probably be offensive so I ended up giving her nothing. I mean, I TRIED to give her a tip! But she was kind of evil anyway so I probably don't feel as badly as I should.
Thursday, August 25, 2011
I Get PAID for This!
It's what you've all been waiting for!! (well, what I've been waiting for). The first batch of teacher stories from the 2011-2012 school year! HOORAY!
I am SO HAPPY to have a full-time job teaching middle school language arts - exactly what I wanted to do! Even if I wasn't totally ecstatic, I would have gotten excited when Rex woke me up on the first day of school with breakfast in bed (scrambled eggs and gluten-free muffins!), 18 multicolored roses, and a musical rendition of "Happy First Day of School to You." The day could not have started off any better. He got up at 5:30 to get everything ready! But you didn't decide to read this post to hear me brag about my husband, did you? I didn't think so. I will move on to the main event.
Here it is, folks, the first batch of teacher stories from my FANCY NEW job!!! As always, names have been changed. :-)
1. Today Danny and Kalli were arguing over which word is used to convey "economic hard times" - recession or reception? They came to me to discover which one was correct. I told them that the correct term is "recession," because a "reception" is a big party which usually happens after weddings. Danny said, "Ohhhhh!" as if he had suddenly realized something. I waited for an explanation, and he said, "That makes SO much more sense! When my mom married my stepdad, she said, 'Now it's time for the reception,' and I thought she meant that we were going to be poor because she spent all of the money on the wedding. But she was really just talking about the party!"
2. When giving an introduction presentation, Alison said, "My favorite place to be is Hawaii because it's cold there." I thought I had heard her wrong, but no one else in the class seemed to think that was weird. Then I remembered that it is 115 degrees outside, so Hawaii WOULD seem cold to a Vegas native. Ha!
3. Still on the subject of introduction presentations, Ollie said, "It is a little known fact, but I am actually one of Santa's elves." Jason said, "A fun fact about me is that I always seem to step in gum. Like, every day."
4. Someone was trying to draw a picture of Michigan, and they said, "Hey, Mrs. Webb, have you ever noticed that Michigan looks kind of like a mitten?" I said that yes, I have noticed that before. I showed them how people from Michigan use their hand to show which city they live in, and another student said, "Whoa! People really DO that? I thought it was just a rumor!" I'm not sure why anyone would make up a rumor about that, but okay.
5. As a lot of you know, I keep two rats as classroom pets. At recess time, many students try to sneak back into the building to take advantage of the air conditioning. I periodically check my classroom when I'm on recess duty to make sure no one has tried to get back in there. One day I walked in and there was a girl watching my rats. She looked up and saw that she had been caught, and she knew she was supposed to be outside. Instead of coming up with some sort of excuse as to why she was there, she just arranged her face into an expression of shock and said, "WHOA! Where AM I??!!" and then ran outside. HAHAHAHAHAHA!
6. The students really hate being outside in the hot weather (understandable - it's SO HOT!). I told one of my biracial students that he had to stay outside, and he said, "No! Mrs. Webb! It's too hot out!" I told him that if everyone else could do it, he could too. He responded with, "No fair! Right now I'm only half black, but if I stand outside much longer I'm going to be 100% black and it will be ALL YOUR FAULT!" I told him I could handle the guilt.
7. We have African pen pals, so on the day that I told the students about it we did a little research on the country where our pen pals are from (Sierra Leone). They asked me what language they speak in Sierra Leone, and I told them that many people speak English as well as different regional languages. They didn't understand the idea of "regional languages," so I explained that it would be as if every state in the United States had its own language. Billy raised his hand and said, "I know what Nevada's language would be! It would be, 'Chink...chink...DING DING DING DING DING DING DING!!!'" (general casino noises). It was hilarious, but he's probably right.
My job is awesome - it's like getting paid to go to a comedy club each day. I keep a notepad in my desk, and when students do funny things I jot them down to write in my blog later. After just this first week, I had SEVENTEEN things written down! I chose the best seven for this blog, but that should tell you how funny my students are. You should be a teacher.
I am SO HAPPY to have a full-time job teaching middle school language arts - exactly what I wanted to do! Even if I wasn't totally ecstatic, I would have gotten excited when Rex woke me up on the first day of school with breakfast in bed (scrambled eggs and gluten-free muffins!), 18 multicolored roses, and a musical rendition of "Happy First Day of School to You." The day could not have started off any better. He got up at 5:30 to get everything ready! But you didn't decide to read this post to hear me brag about my husband, did you? I didn't think so. I will move on to the main event.
Here it is, folks, the first batch of teacher stories from my FANCY NEW job!!! As always, names have been changed. :-)
1. Today Danny and Kalli were arguing over which word is used to convey "economic hard times" - recession or reception? They came to me to discover which one was correct. I told them that the correct term is "recession," because a "reception" is a big party which usually happens after weddings. Danny said, "Ohhhhh!" as if he had suddenly realized something. I waited for an explanation, and he said, "That makes SO much more sense! When my mom married my stepdad, she said, 'Now it's time for the reception,' and I thought she meant that we were going to be poor because she spent all of the money on the wedding. But she was really just talking about the party!"
2. When giving an introduction presentation, Alison said, "My favorite place to be is Hawaii because it's cold there." I thought I had heard her wrong, but no one else in the class seemed to think that was weird. Then I remembered that it is 115 degrees outside, so Hawaii WOULD seem cold to a Vegas native. Ha!
3. Still on the subject of introduction presentations, Ollie said, "It is a little known fact, but I am actually one of Santa's elves." Jason said, "A fun fact about me is that I always seem to step in gum. Like, every day."
4. Someone was trying to draw a picture of Michigan, and they said, "Hey, Mrs. Webb, have you ever noticed that Michigan looks kind of like a mitten?" I said that yes, I have noticed that before. I showed them how people from Michigan use their hand to show which city they live in, and another student said, "Whoa! People really DO that? I thought it was just a rumor!" I'm not sure why anyone would make up a rumor about that, but okay.
5. As a lot of you know, I keep two rats as classroom pets. At recess time, many students try to sneak back into the building to take advantage of the air conditioning. I periodically check my classroom when I'm on recess duty to make sure no one has tried to get back in there. One day I walked in and there was a girl watching my rats. She looked up and saw that she had been caught, and she knew she was supposed to be outside. Instead of coming up with some sort of excuse as to why she was there, she just arranged her face into an expression of shock and said, "WHOA! Where AM I??!!" and then ran outside. HAHAHAHAHAHA!
6. The students really hate being outside in the hot weather (understandable - it's SO HOT!). I told one of my biracial students that he had to stay outside, and he said, "No! Mrs. Webb! It's too hot out!" I told him that if everyone else could do it, he could too. He responded with, "No fair! Right now I'm only half black, but if I stand outside much longer I'm going to be 100% black and it will be ALL YOUR FAULT!" I told him I could handle the guilt.
7. We have African pen pals, so on the day that I told the students about it we did a little research on the country where our pen pals are from (Sierra Leone). They asked me what language they speak in Sierra Leone, and I told them that many people speak English as well as different regional languages. They didn't understand the idea of "regional languages," so I explained that it would be as if every state in the United States had its own language. Billy raised his hand and said, "I know what Nevada's language would be! It would be, 'Chink...chink...DING DING DING DING DING DING DING!!!'" (general casino noises). It was hilarious, but he's probably right.
My job is awesome - it's like getting paid to go to a comedy club each day. I keep a notepad in my desk, and when students do funny things I jot them down to write in my blog later. After just this first week, I had SEVENTEEN things written down! I chose the best seven for this blog, but that should tell you how funny my students are. You should be a teacher.
Sunday, August 21, 2011
Food Network
I have decided that I want to have my own show on the Food Network. I DESERVE it. I am always trying out new recipes, and I think viewers could learn a lot from me! The thing is, I think the show would have to be a comedy show. It's perfect because the Food Network does not currently have a comedy show, so I could fill that niche!
Even though I like to try new recipes, more often than not I fail at them. Tonight is a perfect example. I'm trying this new "gluten free eating" thing, but I really wanted some pasta. I found a recipe for homemade gluten-free pasta, and I decided to attempt it. I should have known better than to try something when I hadn't even heard of half of the ingredients (xanthan gum? tapioca starch?). Still, I pictured myself making fabulous pasta and preparing all sorts of fantastic gluten-free recipes. They would call me "The Girl who Makes Gluten-Free Pasta."
Okay - no one is going to call me that. Rex got home from studying and found me near tears trying to wash sticky gunk off of my hands. When asked what was wrong, I sniffed, "I can't cook anything! I can't even make pasta! What is my problem?!" He tried to reassure me, saying that it can't possibly be that bad. I pointed to the pile of goo sitting on my cutting board. He eyed it thoughtfully and finally came up with, "Um, are you sure you followed all of the directions exactly right?" I couldn't help but laugh - he always thinks of something nice to say, and that's the best he could come up with! I told him that OF COURSE I followed all of the directions exactly (I mean, mostly), but for some reason it just didn't work! He asked why I hadn't rolled out the dough with a rolling pin like the directions said, and I told him that we didn't HAVE a rolling pin. I tried to use his Gander Mountain mug to roll it out, but all that did was cover the mug in dough and cause the remaining blob of sticky dough to look even more pathetic.
Without much option and because I didn't want to waste all of my dough (after all, I worked so hard on it!), I rolled up a sticky piece and dropped it into a boiling pot of water. It looked like an oversized maggot or possibly a really light colored turd. It did NOT look like a noodle. Still, I cooked it.
When I took it out of the pot, I rinsed it off and took a tentative bite. It actually tasted like a noodle! I turned to Rex and exclaimed, "Whoo hoo! It actually tastes like a really thick, blobby noodle!" Suddenly the full taste hit me and I winced. "Except it is pretty garlic-y..." Rex looked at me incredulously and inquired, "WHY would a noodle taste like garlic?" I mumbled sheepishly, "Um, we were out of salt so I used garlic salt because I figured it was pretty much the same."
He immediately started laughing. "GARLIC SALT?? Why would you think you could substitute GARLIC SALT for REGULAR SALT?! HAHAHAHAHA!" I mean, geez louise - who does he think he is, Gordon Ramsay or something? I would like to see HIM try to make pasta from scratch! I mean, yes he would probably go get the right ingredients, roll it with a rolling pin, and roll the noodles correctly, but that is BESIDE THE POINT. I made an EFFORT here. There are already enough Rachel Rays and Paula Deans in the world - it's time for Christine Webb!
I can see it now - a whole show about my cooking hijinks! I'll be like Lucille Ball from "I Love Lucy," but all of my shenanigans will have to do with food. Normal cooking shows have the chef put everything together and then say something along the lines of, "And now, here is one that is all ready to come out of the oven!" I'll do that too, but when I pull MY food out of the oven it will probably look like a pile of vomit. I'll yell, "Hey Zack!" (that's my producer) "Who barfed on my casserole? We can't air this! Go get some take-out for me to show the folks at home!" And then we'll end every episode with a promotion for a new take-out place! So we can pay for the entire production in advertising revenues. As the credits roll at the end of the episode, Rex will walk in, take one look at my food, and say, "Christine...you've got some 'splainin to do!"
It's going to be perfect. Now to find something to eat for dinner tonight...
Even though I like to try new recipes, more often than not I fail at them. Tonight is a perfect example. I'm trying this new "gluten free eating" thing, but I really wanted some pasta. I found a recipe for homemade gluten-free pasta, and I decided to attempt it. I should have known better than to try something when I hadn't even heard of half of the ingredients (xanthan gum? tapioca starch?). Still, I pictured myself making fabulous pasta and preparing all sorts of fantastic gluten-free recipes. They would call me "The Girl who Makes Gluten-Free Pasta."
Okay - no one is going to call me that. Rex got home from studying and found me near tears trying to wash sticky gunk off of my hands. When asked what was wrong, I sniffed, "I can't cook anything! I can't even make pasta! What is my problem?!" He tried to reassure me, saying that it can't possibly be that bad. I pointed to the pile of goo sitting on my cutting board. He eyed it thoughtfully and finally came up with, "Um, are you sure you followed all of the directions exactly right?" I couldn't help but laugh - he always thinks of something nice to say, and that's the best he could come up with! I told him that OF COURSE I followed all of the directions exactly (I mean, mostly), but for some reason it just didn't work! He asked why I hadn't rolled out the dough with a rolling pin like the directions said, and I told him that we didn't HAVE a rolling pin. I tried to use his Gander Mountain mug to roll it out, but all that did was cover the mug in dough and cause the remaining blob of sticky dough to look even more pathetic.
Without much option and because I didn't want to waste all of my dough (after all, I worked so hard on it!), I rolled up a sticky piece and dropped it into a boiling pot of water. It looked like an oversized maggot or possibly a really light colored turd. It did NOT look like a noodle. Still, I cooked it.
When I took it out of the pot, I rinsed it off and took a tentative bite. It actually tasted like a noodle! I turned to Rex and exclaimed, "Whoo hoo! It actually tastes like a really thick, blobby noodle!" Suddenly the full taste hit me and I winced. "Except it is pretty garlic-y..." Rex looked at me incredulously and inquired, "WHY would a noodle taste like garlic?" I mumbled sheepishly, "Um, we were out of salt so I used garlic salt because I figured it was pretty much the same."
He immediately started laughing. "GARLIC SALT?? Why would you think you could substitute GARLIC SALT for REGULAR SALT?! HAHAHAHAHA!" I mean, geez louise - who does he think he is, Gordon Ramsay or something? I would like to see HIM try to make pasta from scratch! I mean, yes he would probably go get the right ingredients, roll it with a rolling pin, and roll the noodles correctly, but that is BESIDE THE POINT. I made an EFFORT here. There are already enough Rachel Rays and Paula Deans in the world - it's time for Christine Webb!
I can see it now - a whole show about my cooking hijinks! I'll be like Lucille Ball from "I Love Lucy," but all of my shenanigans will have to do with food. Normal cooking shows have the chef put everything together and then say something along the lines of, "And now, here is one that is all ready to come out of the oven!" I'll do that too, but when I pull MY food out of the oven it will probably look like a pile of vomit. I'll yell, "Hey Zack!" (that's my producer) "Who barfed on my casserole? We can't air this! Go get some take-out for me to show the folks at home!" And then we'll end every episode with a promotion for a new take-out place! So we can pay for the entire production in advertising revenues. As the credits roll at the end of the episode, Rex will walk in, take one look at my food, and say, "Christine...you've got some 'splainin to do!"
It's going to be perfect. Now to find something to eat for dinner tonight...
Friday, August 19, 2011
My First Week
Today, Friday, August 19, 2011, marks the official end of my first week working at Quest Academy! We didn't have students this week, but we still had a lot of work to do.
First of all, coming out here to teach has been fun and overwhelming. It sort of feels like I've been playing little league all of my life, and then suddenly I got drafted into the majors. It's a feeling of "Whoo hoo!" mixed with "Crap. I'm not as good as I thought I was."
One thing that was fun this week is that I discovered being an Education major in college was really like taking a foreign language. I discovered this when, at orientation, our presenter said something along the lines of this:
"Please be sure to use your AIMSWeb and Dibbles to put your students in the appropriate RtI Tier. If they stay in the third Tier for a number of weeks they may be considered LD or EI and you'll have to help with their IEP's or 504's. You need to make sure to differentiate your common core-based instruction to ensure they're ready for the SAT10's and the CRT's. Oh, and please label your lesson plans with the appropriate standards. Example: L.8.12. Don't forget your daily RtI interventions!"
Of course they didn't explain what any of this meant, but I wanted to jump out of my seat and say, "HA! I understood everything you said! I SPEAK EDUCATION!!!!" A college professor would have sloooooooooowed that down and explained everything that could potentially be confusing. In my new job, though, I'm just expected to know all of that stuff. The really fun part is that I DO!!! I would be really lost if I didn't...ha ha. It's good to know that my years in college were worth something.
A weird part of my new job is that my middle school teacher team is a lot older than me. I work primarily with three other teachers, and they all have at least two kids and could probably be my parents. They treat me like an equal (I mean, duh. We're co-workers), but it's hard for me to call them by their first names. I feel like I should be calling them "Mr." and "Mrs." But now I'm ONE OF THEM! WHAAAAAAAT?? It's a very bizarre feeling. It felt even more bizarre when one of them came in and confided in me about her recent divorce and how she's been feeling about it. I tried to be understanding, but I felt like screaming, "AH! I'm only 22! I'M NOT MATURE ENOUGH FOR THIS!" They seem pretty great, though, and I think it will be fun to work with them.
Today the principal bought everyone breakfast to celebrate the end of our first week. Hooray! We went out to a fancy restaurant and spent taxpayer's money on "bonding time." I could get used to this job. I'm setting up a dinner in September for all of the teachers who are new to the school, and I invited the principal because I figured she might want to get to know us better. She said, "Yeah! I'll pay!" I tried to explain that I wasn't asking her to PAY for everyone's dinner, but rather I just wanted to invite her to join us, but she said, "You guys can't pay for your own social event! That's crazy! Of course I'm going to pay for it! And let's go out to eat every month!" Again, I could get used to this.
Last night was parents' night, and I got to meet a lot of my students and their parents. It was really fun! Here are a few highlights:
1. One parent gave me a bottle of wine, saying, "You're going to need this." HA HA!
2. A girl came in after all the parents were gone and said, "Hi Mrs. Webb! Just so you know, I'm a really great artist. Like, REALLY great. And I'm also really good at reading and writing. Oh, and also math." I told her that I was glad she was going to be such a great student, and she said, "Yeah. And if you want proof that I'm a great artist, here it is!" She then proceeded to whip a long brown thing out of her back pocket. I tried to be impressed, but I didn't know what it was. I asked, and she said, "It's a Harry Potter wand, of course! I sanded it myself AND painted it. Now I'm pretty much Hermione." I told her that she is a very accomplished artist.
3. A mom came in and said, "Can I brag on my son?" I responded with "Sure," even though the son was next to her looking very awkward and embarrassed. She said, "Well, last year he won a NATIONAL essay competition! He's a fabulous writer!" I mentioned that that was very impressive, and I would love to take a look at the essay sometime. She immediately said, "Great! I keep a copy in my wallet!" I'm sorry, you keep a copy of your son's award winning essay in your WALLET? Folded up next to the dollar bills? HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! I only laugh because if I was a mom I would so fully do the same thing, even if it is a tad ridiculous.
All in all, I think this could shape up to be a very good year. Students come Monday! EEEEEK!
First of all, coming out here to teach has been fun and overwhelming. It sort of feels like I've been playing little league all of my life, and then suddenly I got drafted into the majors. It's a feeling of "Whoo hoo!" mixed with "Crap. I'm not as good as I thought I was."
One thing that was fun this week is that I discovered being an Education major in college was really like taking a foreign language. I discovered this when, at orientation, our presenter said something along the lines of this:
"Please be sure to use your AIMSWeb and Dibbles to put your students in the appropriate RtI Tier. If they stay in the third Tier for a number of weeks they may be considered LD or EI and you'll have to help with their IEP's or 504's. You need to make sure to differentiate your common core-based instruction to ensure they're ready for the SAT10's and the CRT's. Oh, and please label your lesson plans with the appropriate standards. Example: L.8.12. Don't forget your daily RtI interventions!"
Of course they didn't explain what any of this meant, but I wanted to jump out of my seat and say, "HA! I understood everything you said! I SPEAK EDUCATION!!!!" A college professor would have sloooooooooowed that down and explained everything that could potentially be confusing. In my new job, though, I'm just expected to know all of that stuff. The really fun part is that I DO!!! I would be really lost if I didn't...ha ha. It's good to know that my years in college were worth something.
A weird part of my new job is that my middle school teacher team is a lot older than me. I work primarily with three other teachers, and they all have at least two kids and could probably be my parents. They treat me like an equal (I mean, duh. We're co-workers), but it's hard for me to call them by their first names. I feel like I should be calling them "Mr." and "Mrs." But now I'm ONE OF THEM! WHAAAAAAAT?? It's a very bizarre feeling. It felt even more bizarre when one of them came in and confided in me about her recent divorce and how she's been feeling about it. I tried to be understanding, but I felt like screaming, "AH! I'm only 22! I'M NOT MATURE ENOUGH FOR THIS!" They seem pretty great, though, and I think it will be fun to work with them.
Today the principal bought everyone breakfast to celebrate the end of our first week. Hooray! We went out to a fancy restaurant and spent taxpayer's money on "bonding time." I could get used to this job. I'm setting up a dinner in September for all of the teachers who are new to the school, and I invited the principal because I figured she might want to get to know us better. She said, "Yeah! I'll pay!" I tried to explain that I wasn't asking her to PAY for everyone's dinner, but rather I just wanted to invite her to join us, but she said, "You guys can't pay for your own social event! That's crazy! Of course I'm going to pay for it! And let's go out to eat every month!" Again, I could get used to this.
Last night was parents' night, and I got to meet a lot of my students and their parents. It was really fun! Here are a few highlights:
1. One parent gave me a bottle of wine, saying, "You're going to need this." HA HA!
2. A girl came in after all the parents were gone and said, "Hi Mrs. Webb! Just so you know, I'm a really great artist. Like, REALLY great. And I'm also really good at reading and writing. Oh, and also math." I told her that I was glad she was going to be such a great student, and she said, "Yeah. And if you want proof that I'm a great artist, here it is!" She then proceeded to whip a long brown thing out of her back pocket. I tried to be impressed, but I didn't know what it was. I asked, and she said, "It's a Harry Potter wand, of course! I sanded it myself AND painted it. Now I'm pretty much Hermione." I told her that she is a very accomplished artist.
3. A mom came in and said, "Can I brag on my son?" I responded with "Sure," even though the son was next to her looking very awkward and embarrassed. She said, "Well, last year he won a NATIONAL essay competition! He's a fabulous writer!" I mentioned that that was very impressive, and I would love to take a look at the essay sometime. She immediately said, "Great! I keep a copy in my wallet!" I'm sorry, you keep a copy of your son's award winning essay in your WALLET? Folded up next to the dollar bills? HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! I only laugh because if I was a mom I would so fully do the same thing, even if it is a tad ridiculous.
All in all, I think this could shape up to be a very good year. Students come Monday! EEEEEK!
Saturday, August 13, 2011
Dog Park
Rex and I have a new favorite hangout - the dog park about a half mile from our apartment.
Every night between 8 and 8:30 (we have to go late because it's so hot here during the day) Rex and I meet a bunch of his friends from PT school at the dog park, and we all bring our dogs. Elvis is best friends with a labradoodle named Waffles. They play together and pretend that none of the other dogs are there. Sometimes a dog will come try to play with them and they will look at him as if to say, "Um, excuse me, you are not in our club." Then they will proceed to ignore him. I'm trying to teach Elvis to be more inclusive, but that only really happens when Waffles is gone.
The dog park is a fenced-in field with benches around the sides and some dog toys in the middle. Owners can let their dogs off their leashes so they can just run around and play. Inevitably a few owners bring big jugs of water (tonight Rex did!), and all the dogs share it when they get tired of running around. Tonight was our third night in a row going, and there have been at least a dozen dogs in the park each night. They have everything from big bloodhouds and mastiffs to tiny pugs and pomeranians. They are all so cute and just play together as if they were all the same size. It's so fun to watch.
Tonight was a little different because, for the first time, a few people brought children to the dog park! There was this three year old named Wesley who LOVED Elvis (I mean, obviously - Elvis is always the cutest one there). Wesley chased Elvis around the park for about an hour. His mom made him go get a drink, and as soon as he came back he started looking around manically saying, "Where pup-py? Where pup-py?" As soon as he saw Elvis he screamed and said, "EEEEEEeeeeeeeeeeee! There the puppy!" Then he ran over to tackle Elvis with love but Elvis got freaked out and ran away, so the boy ended up falling in the grass instead. Oops. Undeterred, he got up and kept chasing Elvis. Anytime Wesley would run near another dog he would scream, "BEEP BEEP!" and pretend he was honking a horn to make them get out of the way. It was SO CUTE! Steven, one of our friends, said "Doesn't that make you want to have kids?" I said, "No way. We're not really that serious of a couple - we're just testing out this whole marriage thing to see how it goes." Obviously Steven knew I was joking, but this other guy who was sitting on a bench near us looked at me as if I was something his dog just puked up. Sorry dude! The kid was really cute, though. He kept trying to clap Elvis's tail between his hands, but mostly he missed because Elvis would run away. Even if Wesley was close enough, Elvis was always wagging his tail so it was difficult to catch. Good thing he's a nice dog - I think I would have gotten kind of annoyed.
The next kid that came in was named Joe. He was with his parents and their three dogs. I would guess that he was about seven years old, but he had downs syndrome so he couldn't really talk. I was sitting on a bench, and he came and sat next to me. I said hello and told him that his pug was really cute. He smiled at me, and I smiled back. I went back to watching the dogs, and he slid closer and closer to me until finally he was sitting RIGHT NEXT TO ME and he put his arm around my shoulder! Ha ha! Steven saw it and said, "Hey Rex, I think you've got some competition over here." I said, "Aw, Joe. You're sweet." He mumbled something that I'm pretty sure was supposed to say, "I love you," and then he kissed me on the cheek. Then he went from sitting next to me to sitting on my lap, and I thought, "No problem. He's just little. He wants to watch the dogs together." So we did that for a few minutes before he turned around, flung his arms around my neck, and tried to kiss me ON THE LIPS. I dodged and got another cheek kiss. I said, "Aw, Joe. Thanks. I like you too." Undeterred, he went in for another strike and ended up getting my other cheek. Then he got my nose. Then I said, "Okay Joe, let's go find your parents" and made him get off of my lap. I felt kind of bad - I mean, the special needs kid wanted a kiss and I wouldn't give it to him? But I guess I'm weird about kissing seven year olds on the mouth. Sorry Joe.
The dog park is really fun, though, and Elvis always comes back sooooo tired - too tired to destroy anything! Now when we open the hall closet (where we keep his leash), he starts jumping up and down with excitement. I'm going to feel really bad one day when we pack him up and take him to the vet instead of the dog park, but I guess he seems really healthy right now so I don't have to worry too much about that. Hooray for fun with our pup!
Every night between 8 and 8:30 (we have to go late because it's so hot here during the day) Rex and I meet a bunch of his friends from PT school at the dog park, and we all bring our dogs. Elvis is best friends with a labradoodle named Waffles. They play together and pretend that none of the other dogs are there. Sometimes a dog will come try to play with them and they will look at him as if to say, "Um, excuse me, you are not in our club." Then they will proceed to ignore him. I'm trying to teach Elvis to be more inclusive, but that only really happens when Waffles is gone.
The dog park is a fenced-in field with benches around the sides and some dog toys in the middle. Owners can let their dogs off their leashes so they can just run around and play. Inevitably a few owners bring big jugs of water (tonight Rex did!), and all the dogs share it when they get tired of running around. Tonight was our third night in a row going, and there have been at least a dozen dogs in the park each night. They have everything from big bloodhouds and mastiffs to tiny pugs and pomeranians. They are all so cute and just play together as if they were all the same size. It's so fun to watch.
Tonight was a little different because, for the first time, a few people brought children to the dog park! There was this three year old named Wesley who LOVED Elvis (I mean, obviously - Elvis is always the cutest one there). Wesley chased Elvis around the park for about an hour. His mom made him go get a drink, and as soon as he came back he started looking around manically saying, "Where pup-py? Where pup-py?" As soon as he saw Elvis he screamed and said, "EEEEEEeeeeeeeeeeee! There the puppy!" Then he ran over to tackle Elvis with love but Elvis got freaked out and ran away, so the boy ended up falling in the grass instead. Oops. Undeterred, he got up and kept chasing Elvis. Anytime Wesley would run near another dog he would scream, "BEEP BEEP!" and pretend he was honking a horn to make them get out of the way. It was SO CUTE! Steven, one of our friends, said "Doesn't that make you want to have kids?" I said, "No way. We're not really that serious of a couple - we're just testing out this whole marriage thing to see how it goes." Obviously Steven knew I was joking, but this other guy who was sitting on a bench near us looked at me as if I was something his dog just puked up. Sorry dude! The kid was really cute, though. He kept trying to clap Elvis's tail between his hands, but mostly he missed because Elvis would run away. Even if Wesley was close enough, Elvis was always wagging his tail so it was difficult to catch. Good thing he's a nice dog - I think I would have gotten kind of annoyed.
The next kid that came in was named Joe. He was with his parents and their three dogs. I would guess that he was about seven years old, but he had downs syndrome so he couldn't really talk. I was sitting on a bench, and he came and sat next to me. I said hello and told him that his pug was really cute. He smiled at me, and I smiled back. I went back to watching the dogs, and he slid closer and closer to me until finally he was sitting RIGHT NEXT TO ME and he put his arm around my shoulder! Ha ha! Steven saw it and said, "Hey Rex, I think you've got some competition over here." I said, "Aw, Joe. You're sweet." He mumbled something that I'm pretty sure was supposed to say, "I love you," and then he kissed me on the cheek. Then he went from sitting next to me to sitting on my lap, and I thought, "No problem. He's just little. He wants to watch the dogs together." So we did that for a few minutes before he turned around, flung his arms around my neck, and tried to kiss me ON THE LIPS. I dodged and got another cheek kiss. I said, "Aw, Joe. Thanks. I like you too." Undeterred, he went in for another strike and ended up getting my other cheek. Then he got my nose. Then I said, "Okay Joe, let's go find your parents" and made him get off of my lap. I felt kind of bad - I mean, the special needs kid wanted a kiss and I wouldn't give it to him? But I guess I'm weird about kissing seven year olds on the mouth. Sorry Joe.
The dog park is really fun, though, and Elvis always comes back sooooo tired - too tired to destroy anything! Now when we open the hall closet (where we keep his leash), he starts jumping up and down with excitement. I'm going to feel really bad one day when we pack him up and take him to the vet instead of the dog park, but I guess he seems really healthy right now so I don't have to worry too much about that. Hooray for fun with our pup!
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
The Pup Goes Out
Today we took Elvis to the park. Rex wanted to make sure he was neutered and legally registered before we started taking him to public places, so I have been WAITING and WAITING for him to be old enough to take out. Today, for the first time, he finally was!
As soon as we got to the park, this little girl ran off of the playground equipment and ran up to us. She had dark hair and was wearing a pink tank top with pink shorts. Think of the little girl from Monsters, Inc. and you've probably got the right idea.
She looked up at me with big, hopeful eyes and said shyly, "Can I pet your puppy?"
People say that right before you die, your life flashes before your eyes. Well, I wasn't dying, but a similar thing happened to me. In looking at that little girl, I remembered the hundreds of times that I had looked enviously at people in the park with their puppies. I remembered hoping every Christmas would FINALLY be the year that my dad let us get a dog (it never was). I remembered "borrowing" my neighbor's dog and walking next to it on the sidewalk so that I could pretend it was mine. I remembered that every time I went to PetSmart, from my first fish to getting dog toys, I would always find the person in the store with the cutest dog and say, "May I pet your pup?"
And now someone was asking ME! It was my turn to be the one holding the leash! After almost 23 years, it was finally MY TURN!
I answered (way too enthusiastically), "Of COURSE you can pet my puppy!" First of all, I could never say no to a girl that cute. Secondly, to say no to anyone who wants to pet my puppy would be seriously wrong after how many times I've pet strangers' dogs.
After stepping back because she was a bit startled by my boisterous response, the little girl knelt down and let Elvis run up to her. Of course he was the perfect puppy - licking her face and sitting patiently while she pet him. I just about teared up; it was the cutest thing EVER.
I think Rex liked being on this side of the leash too. Though he would never admit it in a schmultzy emotional blog, I know it's true because when we got back from the park he said, "Want to go to PetSmart?" I said we didn't need anything from PetSmart. He said that he knew that was true, but he just wanted to go show off our dog some more.
So now that I have blogged to you, that's exactly what we are going to do. :-)
As soon as we got to the park, this little girl ran off of the playground equipment and ran up to us. She had dark hair and was wearing a pink tank top with pink shorts. Think of the little girl from Monsters, Inc. and you've probably got the right idea.
She looked up at me with big, hopeful eyes and said shyly, "Can I pet your puppy?"
People say that right before you die, your life flashes before your eyes. Well, I wasn't dying, but a similar thing happened to me. In looking at that little girl, I remembered the hundreds of times that I had looked enviously at people in the park with their puppies. I remembered hoping every Christmas would FINALLY be the year that my dad let us get a dog (it never was). I remembered "borrowing" my neighbor's dog and walking next to it on the sidewalk so that I could pretend it was mine. I remembered that every time I went to PetSmart, from my first fish to getting dog toys, I would always find the person in the store with the cutest dog and say, "May I pet your pup?"
And now someone was asking ME! It was my turn to be the one holding the leash! After almost 23 years, it was finally MY TURN!
I answered (way too enthusiastically), "Of COURSE you can pet my puppy!" First of all, I could never say no to a girl that cute. Secondly, to say no to anyone who wants to pet my puppy would be seriously wrong after how many times I've pet strangers' dogs.
After stepping back because she was a bit startled by my boisterous response, the little girl knelt down and let Elvis run up to her. Of course he was the perfect puppy - licking her face and sitting patiently while she pet him. I just about teared up; it was the cutest thing EVER.
I think Rex liked being on this side of the leash too. Though he would never admit it in a schmultzy emotional blog, I know it's true because when we got back from the park he said, "Want to go to PetSmart?" I said we didn't need anything from PetSmart. He said that he knew that was true, but he just wanted to go show off our dog some more.
So now that I have blogged to you, that's exactly what we are going to do. :-)
Sunday, August 7, 2011
My Trip to the Health Food Store
You may look at the title of this post and start thinking, "What is a McDonald's-loving American like Christine doing in a health food store?" Trust me, I asked myself the same thing numerous times this morning. As someone who only shops the clearance aisle at Wal-Mart for groceries, going to a health food store was a huge jump. They don't even have clearance aisles at the health food store.
I didn't go there by choice. Here's a bit of background for you: about a week ago I went out East to see a specialist doctor about my brain tumor. He's this really smart guy with so many letters after his name that I think he might have the whole alphabet there (I should have checked). Anyway, he worked with Linus Pauling to invent "electrodermal titration," and apparently it's very effective in diagnosing health problems. And, as luck would have it, my grandma is his secretary. So I got to visit her AND see this doctor who isn't even taking new patients right now. What luck!
Anyway, I have been having health issues that I thought were related to my tumor. I've had constant headaches, I felt stomach-sick almost daily, I needed multiple naps per day, and I've been losing weight. This is no good. I'm down to the amount that I weighed as a freshman in high school, and that's not exactly healthy for a girl who's almost 23. I told this doctor all of my issues - I'm afraid I won't be able to teach if I'm sick all the time! - and he tested me for a bunch of stuff.
TURNS OUT, my sickness had nothing to do with my tumor! He said that the tumor is there, but it would not have been causing all of these problems. He said that I have edema in my brain, which means my brain has been swelling, causing fatigue and headaches. He also said that I have the beginnings of Celiac Disease (look it up - it's NOT COOL). He said that if I go on a specialized diet, I will start feeling better really soon.
"Diet" was not the word I was expecting to hear. I'm a size 2 and still losing weight! Still, he said that I was eating the wrong food. With Celiac Disease, if a person eats any gluten (which is found in bread, pasta, etc. aka all of my favorite foods), their small intestine gets damaged, which causes them to feel sick and causes their body to not digest the food properly, which means the person loses weight no matter how much they eat. UNPLEASANT. So he said that if I go on a strict diet that eliminates gluten, any dairy, corn, peanuts, and a host of other delicious foods, and if I start taking supplements in pill form to replace the nutrients I've lost, I should start feeling much better.
I was, to say the least, skeptical. In my eyes, a life without bread and pasta is no sort of life at all. Out of respect for my grandma, who made me promise to at least TRY what this doctor suggested, I searched all over Wal-Mart on Rex and I's weekly shopping trip to see what I could find that my body would accept. I found....ready for this? Rice cakes. Oh, and I also found a gluten-free rice cereal. But HOW am I supposed to live on rice cakes and rice cereal?! That's RIDICULOUS! Still, a promise is a promise, so I tried it.
The weirdest thing happened - I was eating far fewer calories than normal, but I actually felt better and had MORE energy! WHAT?! I went down to take my usual nap one day and just thought, "Wait a second...I'm not tired! I don't need a nap!" Maybe my fifteen pills a day and diet of almost 100% rice was doing something.
Rex even noticed a huge difference. He said I've seemed much healthier, more energetic, and happier since trying this new diet. Blast - I suppose that means I will have to stick with it for a while. That's why today we decided to go to *drumroll please* THE HEALTH FOOD STORE *cue twilight zone music.*
The thing is, I've always made fun of people who go to health food stores. I mean, why pay three times the price to get something "organic" or made of soy when I could find it way cheaper at a mainstream grocery store? And WHO was the idiot who invented tofu? How is that even considered edible? In my opinion, "health food" was really just code for "overpriced and disgusting."
Unless I wanted to subsist on only rice, though, I had to find somewhere that sells food I can eat. I figured the local health food store would be my best option.
To prepare for my trip to the health food store, I put on a frayed denim dress that I got at a garage sale a few years ago. I also didn't straighten my hair so that it would look "earthy," and I didn't put on make-up. I rushed into the bathroom while Rex was brushing his teeth and snapped off the lights, exclaiming, "WHY are you using electricity? You don't need to waste this energy! Think of the EARTH! Think of the BABY POLAR BEARS that you are KILLING by using up energy!"
Even in the dark, I could tell that Rex was looking at me as if I'd just cut off my own arm or done some other equally insane action. It was a look of disbelief mixed with "WHO ARE YOU?!"
This is what I looked like:
"I'm getting in character," I explained. "I want to fit in with the health food people. I'm thinking of telling them that I created this dress myself on my own loom by weaving wheat or something."
Rex commented, "Aren't you allergic to wheat? Isn't that the whole reason why we are doing this?"
Blast. He was right. But I recovered quickly: "Well, I'll say it's made out of flax seed or something. Or maybe I won't even mention the dress. Maybe I'll say something like, 'I'm so happy to get these ingredients to cook in my new organic oven, and we will eat off of the plates that I made on my pottery wheel and fired in my own kiln!'"
Rex, ever practical, asked, "What makes an oven organic?"
I didn't know. I decided maybe if it was solar powered, that would impress the health food people. I was going to be GREAT!
All the way to the store, I practiced my hippie-like earth-mother-loving health food personality. I was getting pretty good at it, too! We finally got to the store, and the car that passed us in the parking lot was a FERRARI. I told Rex that if Mr. Ferrari was shopping there, we probably weren't going to be able to afford anything. Rex said we had to go in anyway.
When we walked through the doors, the first thing I saw was "herb popcorn." I whirled to Rex and exclaimed, "Herb popcorn? HERB POPCORN?! This is too much. I can't take it! I'm leaving!" I dramatically threw my hands toward the heavens and stomped back outside. Rex looked amused, but he wasn't budging. I trudged back into the store.
Not surprisingly, the health food store did have quite a few things that I could eat. The problem is - what did I tell you? - everything was EXPENSIVE and looked mostly gross. I'm sorry - gluten-free soy pizza? WHO WANTS TO EAT THAT? Oh, I guess me. It's in my freezer. I'm a hippie now. At least it's not a rice cake!
They had WEIRD stuff at that store. I wanted to find rice bagels, and instead I found "Hemp Bagles" that had a picture of a marijuana leaf on the package. No thank you, heath weirdos, I do not want your POT BAGELS! The package said that they had a "nutty" flavor. I think the people who made those bagels are nutty. I decided to find something else.
I came across a body section of the store, where you can buy ORGANIC SOAP. It's $24 per...pound? Block? Soap-unit? Anyway, $24 for soap is WAY too much. I'm already paying you $9 for my soy pizza, Heath Food Store, I am not getting ripped off by your SOAP.
I kept saying, "No way am I buying that. It's too expensive" to every food I found. Luckily, Rex was there to say, "Okay, you either suck it up and spend the money, or you feel sick every day. Those are your choices." Dang. He's so practical. And I really AM getting sick of rice cakes.
We ended up leaving the store with two bags full of things that I can eat. HOORAY! It cost $71 - NOT HOORAY! But if I keep feeling better on the current trend I've been progressing on, then the money will be well worth it. Check out some of the stuff I bought in the pictures below. I can't believe that now I'm one of those people that I used to make fun of! Karma sucks.
My soy pizza!!
Bean chips! Now I can have chips and salsa again!
This looks intriguing...
This is delicious on rice cakes.
One side of the bag.
Other side of the bag.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I am going to go try some potato pasta.
I didn't go there by choice. Here's a bit of background for you: about a week ago I went out East to see a specialist doctor about my brain tumor. He's this really smart guy with so many letters after his name that I think he might have the whole alphabet there (I should have checked). Anyway, he worked with Linus Pauling to invent "electrodermal titration," and apparently it's very effective in diagnosing health problems. And, as luck would have it, my grandma is his secretary. So I got to visit her AND see this doctor who isn't even taking new patients right now. What luck!
Anyway, I have been having health issues that I thought were related to my tumor. I've had constant headaches, I felt stomach-sick almost daily, I needed multiple naps per day, and I've been losing weight. This is no good. I'm down to the amount that I weighed as a freshman in high school, and that's not exactly healthy for a girl who's almost 23. I told this doctor all of my issues - I'm afraid I won't be able to teach if I'm sick all the time! - and he tested me for a bunch of stuff.
TURNS OUT, my sickness had nothing to do with my tumor! He said that the tumor is there, but it would not have been causing all of these problems. He said that I have edema in my brain, which means my brain has been swelling, causing fatigue and headaches. He also said that I have the beginnings of Celiac Disease (look it up - it's NOT COOL). He said that if I go on a specialized diet, I will start feeling better really soon.
"Diet" was not the word I was expecting to hear. I'm a size 2 and still losing weight! Still, he said that I was eating the wrong food. With Celiac Disease, if a person eats any gluten (which is found in bread, pasta, etc. aka all of my favorite foods), their small intestine gets damaged, which causes them to feel sick and causes their body to not digest the food properly, which means the person loses weight no matter how much they eat. UNPLEASANT. So he said that if I go on a strict diet that eliminates gluten, any dairy, corn, peanuts, and a host of other delicious foods, and if I start taking supplements in pill form to replace the nutrients I've lost, I should start feeling much better.
I was, to say the least, skeptical. In my eyes, a life without bread and pasta is no sort of life at all. Out of respect for my grandma, who made me promise to at least TRY what this doctor suggested, I searched all over Wal-Mart on Rex and I's weekly shopping trip to see what I could find that my body would accept. I found....ready for this? Rice cakes. Oh, and I also found a gluten-free rice cereal. But HOW am I supposed to live on rice cakes and rice cereal?! That's RIDICULOUS! Still, a promise is a promise, so I tried it.
The weirdest thing happened - I was eating far fewer calories than normal, but I actually felt better and had MORE energy! WHAT?! I went down to take my usual nap one day and just thought, "Wait a second...I'm not tired! I don't need a nap!" Maybe my fifteen pills a day and diet of almost 100% rice was doing something.
Rex even noticed a huge difference. He said I've seemed much healthier, more energetic, and happier since trying this new diet. Blast - I suppose that means I will have to stick with it for a while. That's why today we decided to go to *drumroll please* THE HEALTH FOOD STORE *cue twilight zone music.*
The thing is, I've always made fun of people who go to health food stores. I mean, why pay three times the price to get something "organic" or made of soy when I could find it way cheaper at a mainstream grocery store? And WHO was the idiot who invented tofu? How is that even considered edible? In my opinion, "health food" was really just code for "overpriced and disgusting."
Unless I wanted to subsist on only rice, though, I had to find somewhere that sells food I can eat. I figured the local health food store would be my best option.
To prepare for my trip to the health food store, I put on a frayed denim dress that I got at a garage sale a few years ago. I also didn't straighten my hair so that it would look "earthy," and I didn't put on make-up. I rushed into the bathroom while Rex was brushing his teeth and snapped off the lights, exclaiming, "WHY are you using electricity? You don't need to waste this energy! Think of the EARTH! Think of the BABY POLAR BEARS that you are KILLING by using up energy!"
Even in the dark, I could tell that Rex was looking at me as if I'd just cut off my own arm or done some other equally insane action. It was a look of disbelief mixed with "WHO ARE YOU?!"
This is what I looked like:
"I'm getting in character," I explained. "I want to fit in with the health food people. I'm thinking of telling them that I created this dress myself on my own loom by weaving wheat or something."
Rex commented, "Aren't you allergic to wheat? Isn't that the whole reason why we are doing this?"
Blast. He was right. But I recovered quickly: "Well, I'll say it's made out of flax seed or something. Or maybe I won't even mention the dress. Maybe I'll say something like, 'I'm so happy to get these ingredients to cook in my new organic oven, and we will eat off of the plates that I made on my pottery wheel and fired in my own kiln!'"
Rex, ever practical, asked, "What makes an oven organic?"
I didn't know. I decided maybe if it was solar powered, that would impress the health food people. I was going to be GREAT!
All the way to the store, I practiced my hippie-like earth-mother-loving health food personality. I was getting pretty good at it, too! We finally got to the store, and the car that passed us in the parking lot was a FERRARI. I told Rex that if Mr. Ferrari was shopping there, we probably weren't going to be able to afford anything. Rex said we had to go in anyway.
When we walked through the doors, the first thing I saw was "herb popcorn." I whirled to Rex and exclaimed, "Herb popcorn? HERB POPCORN?! This is too much. I can't take it! I'm leaving!" I dramatically threw my hands toward the heavens and stomped back outside. Rex looked amused, but he wasn't budging. I trudged back into the store.
Not surprisingly, the health food store did have quite a few things that I could eat. The problem is - what did I tell you? - everything was EXPENSIVE and looked mostly gross. I'm sorry - gluten-free soy pizza? WHO WANTS TO EAT THAT? Oh, I guess me. It's in my freezer. I'm a hippie now. At least it's not a rice cake!
They had WEIRD stuff at that store. I wanted to find rice bagels, and instead I found "Hemp Bagles" that had a picture of a marijuana leaf on the package. No thank you, heath weirdos, I do not want your POT BAGELS! The package said that they had a "nutty" flavor. I think the people who made those bagels are nutty. I decided to find something else.
I came across a body section of the store, where you can buy ORGANIC SOAP. It's $24 per...pound? Block? Soap-unit? Anyway, $24 for soap is WAY too much. I'm already paying you $9 for my soy pizza, Heath Food Store, I am not getting ripped off by your SOAP.
I kept saying, "No way am I buying that. It's too expensive" to every food I found. Luckily, Rex was there to say, "Okay, you either suck it up and spend the money, or you feel sick every day. Those are your choices." Dang. He's so practical. And I really AM getting sick of rice cakes.
We ended up leaving the store with two bags full of things that I can eat. HOORAY! It cost $71 - NOT HOORAY! But if I keep feeling better on the current trend I've been progressing on, then the money will be well worth it. Check out some of the stuff I bought in the pictures below. I can't believe that now I'm one of those people that I used to make fun of! Karma sucks.
My soy pizza!!
Bean chips! Now I can have chips and salsa again!
This looks intriguing...
This is delicious on rice cakes.
One side of the bag.
Other side of the bag.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I am going to go try some potato pasta.
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
Back in School!
Today I got to start setting up my VERY OWN classroom! WHOO HOO! I felt SO cool. I will have to post some pictures of it when it's complete, but I'm going in again tomorrow to work on it some more.
I had a lot of fun, especially because I had some helpers. As I was setting up, two little girls (aged 8 and 9; I now know that they are the secretaries' daughters) came in and said, "Are you the NEW teacher?!" I said that I am (and felt really cool saying it, too. Ha ha!). They asked me if they could help out, and I said sure.
It's harder than you might think to find jobs for 8 and 9 year olds to do. They were really helpful at setting up chairs and putting folders away, but eventually my assignments became things such as "Umm...can you check which bean bag chair is the comfiest?" or "Can you check how high this bouncy ball will bounce?" They really liked those kinds of jobs.
Kids are really funny because they always end up saying weird things. Sometimes their comments are just funny, and sometimes they spill things that their parents would totally chastise them for if they knew what secrets their children were spilling. Here are a couple of snippets from my conversations with the girls today:
S: My friend's parents are divorced, so she has to go to a new school.
Me: Oh, that's very sad.
M: I don't even HAVE a dad!
Me: I'm sorry to hear that - at least you have a great mom!
M: Nah, I don't actually like her. And the reason I don't have a dad is because he's in prison.
Me: I'm sorry; that's really too bad.
M: Yeah, and if you wanna know why he's in prison it's because he murdered my mom.
Me: *shocked look that I couldn't conceal in time*
M: Oh don't worry - she's okay now!
Me: *very confused look* Well...that's good.
The girls seemed confused by my confusion, and they started whispering to each other.
S: I think "murder" might mean "killed" or something.
M: OH! Well, he didn't kill her. He just hurt her. But murder sounds cooler.
S: Ok!
Oh my goodness. What funny children (but what a sad story!). Here is another fun quote:
S: What grade do you teach?
Me: Sixth, seventh, and eighth grade Language Arts.
S: Cool! You're going to have my brother!
Me: Great! Do you think I will like him?
S: Well, DON'T be fooled by his hair. He has really cool hair, but underneath that hair there are some SERIOUS problems, if you know what I mean (gives me a very odd glare).
I always ask students what they want to be when they grow up, and I think today's answer was great:
M: I am going to be a harp soloist and a model and an actress, and then when I retire I am going to be a teacher.
Me: Sounds fun!
M: But you never really know - I could change my mind. It's a long time till my career.
Me: Very true...
They were fun. I hope they're there again tomorrow! I didn't realize how much I missed children...but I really did! I'm so glad to be back in school.
I had a lot of fun, especially because I had some helpers. As I was setting up, two little girls (aged 8 and 9; I now know that they are the secretaries' daughters) came in and said, "Are you the NEW teacher?!" I said that I am (and felt really cool saying it, too. Ha ha!). They asked me if they could help out, and I said sure.
It's harder than you might think to find jobs for 8 and 9 year olds to do. They were really helpful at setting up chairs and putting folders away, but eventually my assignments became things such as "Umm...can you check which bean bag chair is the comfiest?" or "Can you check how high this bouncy ball will bounce?" They really liked those kinds of jobs.
Kids are really funny because they always end up saying weird things. Sometimes their comments are just funny, and sometimes they spill things that their parents would totally chastise them for if they knew what secrets their children were spilling. Here are a couple of snippets from my conversations with the girls today:
S: My friend's parents are divorced, so she has to go to a new school.
Me: Oh, that's very sad.
M: I don't even HAVE a dad!
Me: I'm sorry to hear that - at least you have a great mom!
M: Nah, I don't actually like her. And the reason I don't have a dad is because he's in prison.
Me: I'm sorry; that's really too bad.
M: Yeah, and if you wanna know why he's in prison it's because he murdered my mom.
Me: *shocked look that I couldn't conceal in time*
M: Oh don't worry - she's okay now!
Me: *very confused look* Well...that's good.
The girls seemed confused by my confusion, and they started whispering to each other.
S: I think "murder" might mean "killed" or something.
M: OH! Well, he didn't kill her. He just hurt her. But murder sounds cooler.
S: Ok!
Oh my goodness. What funny children (but what a sad story!). Here is another fun quote:
S: What grade do you teach?
Me: Sixth, seventh, and eighth grade Language Arts.
S: Cool! You're going to have my brother!
Me: Great! Do you think I will like him?
S: Well, DON'T be fooled by his hair. He has really cool hair, but underneath that hair there are some SERIOUS problems, if you know what I mean (gives me a very odd glare).
I always ask students what they want to be when they grow up, and I think today's answer was great:
M: I am going to be a harp soloist and a model and an actress, and then when I retire I am going to be a teacher.
Me: Sounds fun!
M: But you never really know - I could change my mind. It's a long time till my career.
Me: Very true...
They were fun. I hope they're there again tomorrow! I didn't realize how much I missed children...but I really did! I'm so glad to be back in school.
Saturday, July 30, 2011
PT Domination
My husband, Rex Webb, is DOMINATING Physical Therapy School. I am so proud of him! He is currently getting high A's in every class, and his first term ends in August. In one class there have been 488 points, and he's only missed 4. WHOA! He got the high score in his whole graduating class on his last exam. Pretty much he ROCKS, and he's going to graduate #1 in his class. I just know it.
I was going to give him a shout-out on facebook, but I'm friends with a bunch of PT people and I don't want to make them feel bad about my husband being so smart and all.
SO...if YOU could please write on his wall or text him to say that he ROCKS, that would be fantastic. I want to keep encouraging him to kick butt. If you won't do it out of your love for me, do it because in three years he's gonna be a doctor and then maybe if he likes you he'll share some of his money. ;-)
I was going to give him a shout-out on facebook, but I'm friends with a bunch of PT people and I don't want to make them feel bad about my husband being so smart and all.
SO...if YOU could please write on his wall or text him to say that he ROCKS, that would be fantastic. I want to keep encouraging him to kick butt. If you won't do it out of your love for me, do it because in three years he's gonna be a doctor and then maybe if he likes you he'll share some of his money. ;-)
Frightful Flight
I hate flying. I HATE it with a burning fiery passion.
Because I live thousands of miles away from any of my family members, though, I guess I will have to get used to it.
Yesterday I was flying back to Las Vegas from New Hampshire. My flight to Atlanta was pretty uneventful, but my flight from Atlanta to Las Vegas was SCARY!
First of all, we left an hour late. That is never a good start. Then, when we got into the clouds, I saw a thunderstorm up ahead! It was really weird being eye-level with the lightning and watching it go down to the earth. I thought this was highly cool until I saw that the plane was heading straight for the thundercloud! I wanted to talk to the pilot:
"Um, excuse me sir...are you INSANE?! Why are we flying into THAT cloud?! There are plenty of fluffy white clouds to choose! Why don't we pick one of them?! Or fly OVER the storm cloud?! I don't think flying through it is really necessary..."
Apparently he thought it was necessary, though, because he came over the loud speaker and said, "Please buckle your seat belts - we are headed for a bit of turbulence." OF COURSE WE ARE - YOU CHOSE THE SCARY CLOUD! ARE YOU SUICIDAL?!? It was a bumpy and quite disconcerting ride flying through the storm. Lighting flashed all around the windows. I considered what would happen if the plane got struck by lightning, and then I decided that maybe I didn't want to consider that after all.
We miraculously made it through the storm, and then I saw something that I have never seen before while flying - another plane! It was up there in the air next to us, just like another car would drive next to you on the highway. I waved at it, and I wondered if the people could see me. Suddenly the plane changed from flying parallel to us and headed straight towards the side of my plane! Here is my approximate thought process:
"Hi little friend plane! It's so fun to be up here in the sky with you - we could do synchronized flying or something! Wait, are you turning? Why are you heading toward this plane? AHHHHH! It's going to fly into the side of our plane! Dear God, please take care of Rex and Elvis and Elsie since I am about to be killed by a crazed suicide bomber who is using his plane as a torpedo! AHHHH! I hope dying doesn't hurt too badly...oh wait, is he going in front of our plane? He is. Oops. I guess he's not going to kill us after all; he's just switching directions. Dear God, never mind. False alarm. I'm okay."
I thought the excitement would end after the suicide-bomber-turned-regular-pilot episode. I didn't. When we got to Las Vegas, the plane ALMOST landed. Almost. We were so low to the ground that I could distinguish and identify the different casinos (is that sad?). Suddenly the plane pulled up and flew right PAST Las Vegas. It kept flying right past the city and on to California. New thought process:
"Pilot? Sir? That was my stop...um, can I parachute out or something? Because I'm really trying to go home, and you just passed it. Why are we going to California? Are you high? Did you fall asleep? Did you get hit by lightning? Did you have a heart attack? OH MY GOSH WHAT IF THE PILOT IS DEAD AND WE JUST KEEP FLYING AND FLYING?!?! We are flying over mountains now...definitely not in Nevada anymore...WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! Oh wait, I think we're turning around. Or possibly crashing. No, I'm pretty sure we're turning around. WHOO HOO! I can see Vegas in the distance!"
He finally flew back to Vegas and actually landed the plane. As we were waiting for our gate, the pilot came over the loudspeaker and said, "Heh heh...sorry about that, guys. It got kinda crazy so I couldn't keep you in the loop. There was a wind issue so we couldn't land, and then air traffic control told us to fly around for a while and then try landing again from the west. So that's what we did."
You know, if it weren't for the free pretzels I would be really disappointed in that flight!
Because I live thousands of miles away from any of my family members, though, I guess I will have to get used to it.
Yesterday I was flying back to Las Vegas from New Hampshire. My flight to Atlanta was pretty uneventful, but my flight from Atlanta to Las Vegas was SCARY!
First of all, we left an hour late. That is never a good start. Then, when we got into the clouds, I saw a thunderstorm up ahead! It was really weird being eye-level with the lightning and watching it go down to the earth. I thought this was highly cool until I saw that the plane was heading straight for the thundercloud! I wanted to talk to the pilot:
"Um, excuse me sir...are you INSANE?! Why are we flying into THAT cloud?! There are plenty of fluffy white clouds to choose! Why don't we pick one of them?! Or fly OVER the storm cloud?! I don't think flying through it is really necessary..."
Apparently he thought it was necessary, though, because he came over the loud speaker and said, "Please buckle your seat belts - we are headed for a bit of turbulence." OF COURSE WE ARE - YOU CHOSE THE SCARY CLOUD! ARE YOU SUICIDAL?!? It was a bumpy and quite disconcerting ride flying through the storm. Lighting flashed all around the windows. I considered what would happen if the plane got struck by lightning, and then I decided that maybe I didn't want to consider that after all.
We miraculously made it through the storm, and then I saw something that I have never seen before while flying - another plane! It was up there in the air next to us, just like another car would drive next to you on the highway. I waved at it, and I wondered if the people could see me. Suddenly the plane changed from flying parallel to us and headed straight towards the side of my plane! Here is my approximate thought process:
"Hi little friend plane! It's so fun to be up here in the sky with you - we could do synchronized flying or something! Wait, are you turning? Why are you heading toward this plane? AHHHHH! It's going to fly into the side of our plane! Dear God, please take care of Rex and Elvis and Elsie since I am about to be killed by a crazed suicide bomber who is using his plane as a torpedo! AHHHH! I hope dying doesn't hurt too badly...oh wait, is he going in front of our plane? He is. Oops. I guess he's not going to kill us after all; he's just switching directions. Dear God, never mind. False alarm. I'm okay."
I thought the excitement would end after the suicide-bomber-turned-regular-pilot episode. I didn't. When we got to Las Vegas, the plane ALMOST landed. Almost. We were so low to the ground that I could distinguish and identify the different casinos (is that sad?). Suddenly the plane pulled up and flew right PAST Las Vegas. It kept flying right past the city and on to California. New thought process:
"Pilot? Sir? That was my stop...um, can I parachute out or something? Because I'm really trying to go home, and you just passed it. Why are we going to California? Are you high? Did you fall asleep? Did you get hit by lightning? Did you have a heart attack? OH MY GOSH WHAT IF THE PILOT IS DEAD AND WE JUST KEEP FLYING AND FLYING?!?! We are flying over mountains now...definitely not in Nevada anymore...WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! Oh wait, I think we're turning around. Or possibly crashing. No, I'm pretty sure we're turning around. WHOO HOO! I can see Vegas in the distance!"
He finally flew back to Vegas and actually landed the plane. As we were waiting for our gate, the pilot came over the loudspeaker and said, "Heh heh...sorry about that, guys. It got kinda crazy so I couldn't keep you in the loop. There was a wind issue so we couldn't land, and then air traffic control told us to fly around for a while and then try landing again from the west. So that's what we did."
You know, if it weren't for the free pretzels I would be really disappointed in that flight!
Special Delivery
I walked into the post office with a bag of books. I was visiting my Nana in New Hampshire, and she had taken me to an AWESOME used book shop where they had squillions of great middle-school level books for my class at super cheap prices! Obviously I had to stock up.
When I lugged my full bag of goodies out of the store, I was well aware that I would not be able to fly them all home with me (I only brought a backpack). I asked my Nana to take me to the post office so I could send them to myself. The post office has these awesome "flat rate shipping" boxes, so I knew I could send the entire lot of books for less than $15! Whoo hoo!
I walked into the tiny New Hampshire post office, and I was the only customer. There were two ladies working, and they were preoccupied by something in the back room. I stood patiently by the counter for a while and finally asked if I could get some help.
The blonde looked up happily from whatever they were looking at and said, "Go away! Can't you see we're busy? Ha ha just kidding! LOOK AT THIS!" She rushed a large brown box over to the counter so I could see it. She opened the top (even though I'm pretty sure it's illegal to open someone else's mail) and said, "Look what just got delivered for someone!"
I peeked inside and saw the FLUFFIEST little baby chicks. They were little yellow poofs running around inside the box and chirping happily. I would say there were about a dozen or so.
"Is that even LEGAL?!" I asked. "Can you mail animals?!
"I don't know," giggled the mail lady. "I guess so, because someone just did!"
The chicks attempted to run around on the mail counter, but we kept them in the box. They were so adorable! I'm really not sure who thought it would be a good idea to put them in the mail, but apparently they arrived safely in New Hampshire so that is good. Hopefully they arrived to their new home (a farm?) safely. I'm sure they were a little traumatized from living in a cardboard box, but they acted perfectly happy and cute. It made me want to get some baby chicks, but I'm not sure how well they would do living on our balcony in 100+ degree heat. I guess we'll just stick with our cat and our dog. If you ever want to send anyone chicks, though, know that the US Mail accepts them!
When I lugged my full bag of goodies out of the store, I was well aware that I would not be able to fly them all home with me (I only brought a backpack). I asked my Nana to take me to the post office so I could send them to myself. The post office has these awesome "flat rate shipping" boxes, so I knew I could send the entire lot of books for less than $15! Whoo hoo!
I walked into the tiny New Hampshire post office, and I was the only customer. There were two ladies working, and they were preoccupied by something in the back room. I stood patiently by the counter for a while and finally asked if I could get some help.
The blonde looked up happily from whatever they were looking at and said, "Go away! Can't you see we're busy? Ha ha just kidding! LOOK AT THIS!" She rushed a large brown box over to the counter so I could see it. She opened the top (even though I'm pretty sure it's illegal to open someone else's mail) and said, "Look what just got delivered for someone!"
I peeked inside and saw the FLUFFIEST little baby chicks. They were little yellow poofs running around inside the box and chirping happily. I would say there were about a dozen or so.
"Is that even LEGAL?!" I asked. "Can you mail animals?!
"I don't know," giggled the mail lady. "I guess so, because someone just did!"
The chicks attempted to run around on the mail counter, but we kept them in the box. They were so adorable! I'm really not sure who thought it would be a good idea to put them in the mail, but apparently they arrived safely in New Hampshire so that is good. Hopefully they arrived to their new home (a farm?) safely. I'm sure they were a little traumatized from living in a cardboard box, but they acted perfectly happy and cute. It made me want to get some baby chicks, but I'm not sure how well they would do living on our balcony in 100+ degree heat. I guess we'll just stick with our cat and our dog. If you ever want to send anyone chicks, though, know that the US Mail accepts them!
Friday, July 22, 2011
How to Read a Magazine With Your Puppy
Step 1: Sit on the couch
The puppy will inevitably start bounding toward you. After a few unsuccessful attempts to jump up onto the couch (where he will probably bounce off the side of the couch), he will either finally make it or you will have pity on the poor guy and help him up.
Step 2: Open your magazine
The puppy will see that display as you saying "Here is a new toy for you!" and he will start chewing on it.
Step 3: Say, "NO, PUPPY!"
He will ignore you.
Step 4: Put him on the ground so you can read your magazine in peace.
He will inevitably go back to Step 1, and you will repeat steps 1 through 4 until you decide to move on to Step 5.
Step 5: Give up, and in exasperation exclaim, "Fine! We'll share!" Then rip out the page you were just reading and hand it to the puppy.
The puppy will happily munch on the page for juuuuuuust about long enough for you to finish the next page, then he will start jumping on you again.
Step 6: Give the puppy the next page.
Step 7: Repeat Steps 5 and 6 until your magazine is strewn about the living room. I hope you didn't want to re-read any of those articles...
The puppy will inevitably start bounding toward you. After a few unsuccessful attempts to jump up onto the couch (where he will probably bounce off the side of the couch), he will either finally make it or you will have pity on the poor guy and help him up.
Step 2: Open your magazine
The puppy will see that display as you saying "Here is a new toy for you!" and he will start chewing on it.
Step 3: Say, "NO, PUPPY!"
He will ignore you.
Step 4: Put him on the ground so you can read your magazine in peace.
He will inevitably go back to Step 1, and you will repeat steps 1 through 4 until you decide to move on to Step 5.
Step 5: Give up, and in exasperation exclaim, "Fine! We'll share!" Then rip out the page you were just reading and hand it to the puppy.
The puppy will happily munch on the page for juuuuuuust about long enough for you to finish the next page, then he will start jumping on you again.
Step 6: Give the puppy the next page.
Step 7: Repeat Steps 5 and 6 until your magazine is strewn about the living room. I hope you didn't want to re-read any of those articles...
The Teacher Who Cried "Senator"
Sometimes I spice things up for the sake of education. I admit it. If you've read my previous posts, you know that I bought a horned melon from Meijer and pretended that it was a Martian artifact for my science fiction unit. You would also know that we had a guest speaker, "Adventure Man Dan" come in, and that was really just my dad. The thing is, though, that I ALWAYS told the students the truth by the end of the lesson. ALWAYS. But I guess I might have gone a little too far. In one of our social studies units, I had students write to senators and representatives to give their opinion on a political issue. This is the e-mail I got from one of my students today:
Mrs. Webb,
I was just wondering if that United States Senate was real, i mean those letters we got from people like Carl Levin.....i mean the random fruit wasn't real, adventure man dan was just ur dad. I wanna frame the paper but i wanna know if it's real, but if its not im framing it anyway so people think its real.
Just wondering,
Jill
BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! I'm sorry, Jill, for making you doubt the United States Senate. I'm honored that you think I'm a dedicated enough teacher to write individual letters to all of my 100 students and then mail them in such a way that it looks as if they came from Washington D.C. I don't even know how to do that if I wanted to.
I told her to go ahead and frame the response that she got from Carl Levin, since I promise I didn't write it. I think it's funny that she's framing a letter from a senator, but hey - I probably would have done the same thing in sixth grade.
Note to self: STOP PLAYING TRICKS ON STUDENTS.
Mrs. Webb,
I was just wondering if that United States Senate was real, i mean those letters we got from people like Carl Levin.....i mean the random fruit wasn't real, adventure man dan was just ur dad. I wanna frame the paper but i wanna know if it's real, but if its not im framing it anyway so people think its real.
Just wondering,
Jill
BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! I'm sorry, Jill, for making you doubt the United States Senate. I'm honored that you think I'm a dedicated enough teacher to write individual letters to all of my 100 students and then mail them in such a way that it looks as if they came from Washington D.C. I don't even know how to do that if I wanted to.
I told her to go ahead and frame the response that she got from Carl Levin, since I promise I didn't write it. I think it's funny that she's framing a letter from a senator, but hey - I probably would have done the same thing in sixth grade.
Note to self: STOP PLAYING TRICKS ON STUDENTS.
Sunday, July 17, 2011
Debit Card
Rex and I went to the bank to open up a new checking account. We were banking with Flagstar in Michigan, but apparently Flagstar does not exist west of the Mississippi. Therefore we had to open a NEW account, and we chose to open it with Bank of America.
We went to the bank at 4:30 (the bank closes at 6). We just wanted to open a checking account, which should have been very simple since Rex already has a savings account at Bank of America from when he was in high school. We were told that opening a checking account to go with an existing savings account should take, "Oh, about five minutes."
FALSE. We left the bank at 6:38. It took TWO HOURS to open that darn checking account!
I think the real problem was the banking guy. I don't remember his name, so we'll just call him Ricardo. Ricardo got us out of the waiting room and greeted us with a friendly "Hello! My name is Ricardo! I will be helping you bank today! This is my manager Kiki, and she will be sitting in with us if that's okay." We said that it was okay - I mean, who's going to say, "AHHHHH!!! NO! I HATE MANAGERS!!" ???
So we went into the little banking room, and Kiki sat in a corner taking notes on everything Ricardo did. I think she was making him nervous, and I didn't blame him. She was making ME nervous! I was afraid I was going to answer some question wrong and bet thrown out of the bank.
He certainly had a lot of questions. He had to do an "intake survey" to determine our banking needs. I felt like saying, "Ricardo, buddy, our 'banking need' is a checking account. We already told you that. We just want a checking account." He was asking us weird stuff, though, such as "What are your savings goals?" (Ummm...save as much money as possible?) or "How often do you use an ATM?" Ricardo, what difference does that make??
Once he finished our intake survey, he talked us through a booklet containing ALL of the savings and checking accounts we could open along with all of the credit cards we could start. Kiki sat taking copious notes on his presentation. When he was finished, we (surprise!) still wanted to open the least complicated checking account. But THANK YOU, Ricardo, for taking an hour to tell us what we already know. He said, "But if you get the CREDIT CARD, you could go buy a new TV!" We already HAVE a TV, Ricardo, and we don't even watch it! But I guess he was showing off for Kiki.
Kiki must have been satisfied with her notes, because she finally left. Ricardo visibly relaxed, and I thought, "Finally! We're going to get something done." NOT SO FAST, CHRISTINE'S MIND! Ricardo was SO relaxed that he forgot about banking altogether. "So...have you guys eaten at that new Chinese restaurant?" (we haven't). "Oh, it's so cool! The chef guy looks like he's wearing pajamas but really he's just wearing traditional Chinese clothes! It's NUTS!" Really, Ricardo? That's fascinating. He then went on to tell us about a new breakfast location, a new burger joint, and a fancy Mexican restaurant. He chuckled nervously, "Can you guys tell that I am hungry?" I felt like telling Ricardo that if he was so hungry, maybe he could help us open our checking account so we could get out of there. Apparently not. He grabbed a pile of restaurant reviews out of his cabinet and said, "I was just reading these before you guys got here! They're so exciting!" You know what else is exciting, Ricardo? A checking account. I was starting to understand why Kiki was reviewing him.
When we finally redirected Ricardo back to the task at hand, he pushed a catalog toward us and told us to pick out a design for the top of our new debit card. There were PAGES and PAGES of designs - how were we supposed to just pick one?! I tried telling Rex that I would accept any of the puppy/kitten designs, but he said no way. I offered to choose one of the tropical island ones, and he said, "ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND!?" I'm not sure why a tropical island was such an INSANE choice, but apparently it was. Whatever happened to generic, normal banky-looking debit cards? Was this some sort of marriage test to see if we could agree on a design? Trying to avoid any friction in front of our hungry friend Ricardo, I said to Rex, "Okay. You pick five, and I'll choose one of those five." I should have known better. Rex chose a hunted duck, a scary wolf, Detroit Tigers, Chicago Cubs, and a generic baseball design. I complained, and he decided to include a mountain design in the options. Mountains are cool! I said we could agree on that one.
Relieved to have made a decision, I was about to announce our choice to Ricardo when I noticed that on one of the pages, whatever design you chose would donate a percentage of whatever you spend to a certain charity. I immediately told Rex that we had to make a new choice because, "If you have a chance to support a charity for free and then you don't, you are pretty much a HORRIBLE PERSON." He started laughing, but I wasn't really joking. Noticing that his scary wolf was on that page (donating money to some wildlife defense fund), I said that we could choose that one. Rex responded with, "I thought you said that the wolf was scary...?"
I think Ricardo was getting annoyed with how long we were taking. GO READ MORE RESTAURANT REVIEWS, RICARDO! THIS IS A BIG DECISION!
I responded to Rex with, "Yes, I think that wolf is scary. The man who took that picture probably didn't live to see it become a debit card. BUT, maybe this is a good thing. See, when I'm shopping, I will have to think: 'How much do I want these shoes? Enough to look at the WOLF?!?! AHHHHH! NO!!!' and then I won't spend money! So a wolf card is really like a savings plan!" Rex and Ricardo both laughed. Once again, I wasn't entirely joking.
Apparently my "savings plan" was a good idea, though, because after two painful hours in the bank, I now have a shiny new wolf card to guard my money and make sure I don't spend too much. I guess we won't be able to go eat at the fancy restaurants Ricardo was telling us about since I refuse to look at the wolf, but oh well. Ramen noodles have always served me just fine.
We went to the bank at 4:30 (the bank closes at 6). We just wanted to open a checking account, which should have been very simple since Rex already has a savings account at Bank of America from when he was in high school. We were told that opening a checking account to go with an existing savings account should take, "Oh, about five minutes."
FALSE. We left the bank at 6:38. It took TWO HOURS to open that darn checking account!
I think the real problem was the banking guy. I don't remember his name, so we'll just call him Ricardo. Ricardo got us out of the waiting room and greeted us with a friendly "Hello! My name is Ricardo! I will be helping you bank today! This is my manager Kiki, and she will be sitting in with us if that's okay." We said that it was okay - I mean, who's going to say, "AHHHHH!!! NO! I HATE MANAGERS!!" ???
So we went into the little banking room, and Kiki sat in a corner taking notes on everything Ricardo did. I think she was making him nervous, and I didn't blame him. She was making ME nervous! I was afraid I was going to answer some question wrong and bet thrown out of the bank.
He certainly had a lot of questions. He had to do an "intake survey" to determine our banking needs. I felt like saying, "Ricardo, buddy, our 'banking need' is a checking account. We already told you that. We just want a checking account." He was asking us weird stuff, though, such as "What are your savings goals?" (Ummm...save as much money as possible?) or "How often do you use an ATM?" Ricardo, what difference does that make??
Once he finished our intake survey, he talked us through a booklet containing ALL of the savings and checking accounts we could open along with all of the credit cards we could start. Kiki sat taking copious notes on his presentation. When he was finished, we (surprise!) still wanted to open the least complicated checking account. But THANK YOU, Ricardo, for taking an hour to tell us what we already know. He said, "But if you get the CREDIT CARD, you could go buy a new TV!" We already HAVE a TV, Ricardo, and we don't even watch it! But I guess he was showing off for Kiki.
Kiki must have been satisfied with her notes, because she finally left. Ricardo visibly relaxed, and I thought, "Finally! We're going to get something done." NOT SO FAST, CHRISTINE'S MIND! Ricardo was SO relaxed that he forgot about banking altogether. "So...have you guys eaten at that new Chinese restaurant?" (we haven't). "Oh, it's so cool! The chef guy looks like he's wearing pajamas but really he's just wearing traditional Chinese clothes! It's NUTS!" Really, Ricardo? That's fascinating. He then went on to tell us about a new breakfast location, a new burger joint, and a fancy Mexican restaurant. He chuckled nervously, "Can you guys tell that I am hungry?" I felt like telling Ricardo that if he was so hungry, maybe he could help us open our checking account so we could get out of there. Apparently not. He grabbed a pile of restaurant reviews out of his cabinet and said, "I was just reading these before you guys got here! They're so exciting!" You know what else is exciting, Ricardo? A checking account. I was starting to understand why Kiki was reviewing him.
When we finally redirected Ricardo back to the task at hand, he pushed a catalog toward us and told us to pick out a design for the top of our new debit card. There were PAGES and PAGES of designs - how were we supposed to just pick one?! I tried telling Rex that I would accept any of the puppy/kitten designs, but he said no way. I offered to choose one of the tropical island ones, and he said, "ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND!?" I'm not sure why a tropical island was such an INSANE choice, but apparently it was. Whatever happened to generic, normal banky-looking debit cards? Was this some sort of marriage test to see if we could agree on a design? Trying to avoid any friction in front of our hungry friend Ricardo, I said to Rex, "Okay. You pick five, and I'll choose one of those five." I should have known better. Rex chose a hunted duck, a scary wolf, Detroit Tigers, Chicago Cubs, and a generic baseball design. I complained, and he decided to include a mountain design in the options. Mountains are cool! I said we could agree on that one.
Relieved to have made a decision, I was about to announce our choice to Ricardo when I noticed that on one of the pages, whatever design you chose would donate a percentage of whatever you spend to a certain charity. I immediately told Rex that we had to make a new choice because, "If you have a chance to support a charity for free and then you don't, you are pretty much a HORRIBLE PERSON." He started laughing, but I wasn't really joking. Noticing that his scary wolf was on that page (donating money to some wildlife defense fund), I said that we could choose that one. Rex responded with, "I thought you said that the wolf was scary...?"
I think Ricardo was getting annoyed with how long we were taking. GO READ MORE RESTAURANT REVIEWS, RICARDO! THIS IS A BIG DECISION!
I responded to Rex with, "Yes, I think that wolf is scary. The man who took that picture probably didn't live to see it become a debit card. BUT, maybe this is a good thing. See, when I'm shopping, I will have to think: 'How much do I want these shoes? Enough to look at the WOLF?!?! AHHHHH! NO!!!' and then I won't spend money! So a wolf card is really like a savings plan!" Rex and Ricardo both laughed. Once again, I wasn't entirely joking.
Apparently my "savings plan" was a good idea, though, because after two painful hours in the bank, I now have a shiny new wolf card to guard my money and make sure I don't spend too much. I guess we won't be able to go eat at the fancy restaurants Ricardo was telling us about since I refuse to look at the wolf, but oh well. Ramen noodles have always served me just fine.
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