Paradise Village...

Mother of Pearl!

2006-08-29T00:14:00.000-05:00

Hee haw! Forgot I had this blog thang. Been whoring my ideas/thoughts/rants to myspace land.

A list of my summer accomplishments:

1) Buried a fella in sand up to his neck in Cape May. (Also frolicked in the waters for about 9 hours.)

2) Sang lots of Karaoke sober.

3) Had my first surgery ever. My last words before going under were "There are gnomes rubbing my legs."

4) Had my first drugged dreams.

5) Spent 7 weeks healing a wound where the sun don't shine.

6) Went to a GUSTER concert up in Saratoga Springs. (rightfully acted like a complete ass-- *see 5)

7) Went on a boat ride with friends and hummed loudly into the wind.

8) Bought a laptop. Wrote and recorded songs!

9) Ate a snickers apple at the DC Fair. (And bumped into people I knew when I had nuts up my nose and caramel on my face...)

This is the boring-est post ever. Can't wait 'til ski season, homies...

Mo' Hair, Mo' Problems

2006-05-28T01:23:00.000-05:00

For anyone who knows me, you know that I have a lot of hair... long, flowy, sweet-smelling brown hair.

When I was little, I used to complain about it. My mother would brush it every morning, and "tangles" were never fun. Despite the setback of assorted knots and bumps, she would tell me time and time again (in her Bronx accent), "Ya gonna love ya haih..."

As I got older I began to realize that she was indeed right. I can do just about anything with my hair. With updos, the sky's the limit. Curls billow down, and I can style it about 7,000 ways. As a teacher it's fun having a different 'do each day.

So if the hair's so great, what's the problem? My dad (fluffing his remaining "poof" daily) would never stand to hear me complain about such an abundance. He's actually joked that he wouldn't mind a donation or two. (My hair would make a kickin' toupee. :-P)

Here goes...

Problem #1- My hair clogs the drain. I never thought it would require Drain-o every other week to keep the water draining smoothly. I actually never knew that mine fell out.

Problem #2- My hair breaks vacuums. Since I live solo, there is no one else to blame. I actually (grossly) had to cut my hair out of the vacuum, and, most recently, the darn thing has decided to give up altogether. Why can't the cheap Dirt Devils actually handle hair? I never knew such limitations until I witnessed all the hair that actually does fall out, while still leaving me long and lush.

So, while I won't really complain, it would be nice if the fine people who make drains and vacuums could think up "hair-eating" options for the cranially-keratin plentiful. And if these devices could follow me forever, that would be even better. I am moving soon, and want to be done with the added expenses of new vacuums and foaming pipe snake.

Taste-Testing with Mr. Yuck >:P

2006-04-24T01:21:00.000-05:00

That little warning on candy bars that says "may contain peanuts" isn't a joke at all. People really do have peanut allergies so severe that kissing someone who's donned a piece of toast with da butta and eaten it 9 hrs earlier could kill... within minutes....

Allergies aside, which are making me more and more "nuts" about how I handle foods (pun absolutely intended), have you ever done something really stupid to the chagrin of all the fine folks writing the warning labels on the backs of products?

I once tasted Windex because I thought it was a pretty color. Luckily you can't die by a dab on the finger, but had I taken a mighty swig of the pristine, blue "streak warrior," I might not have made it to the age of blogging and myspace glory. (Imagine that.) And luckily all crayons are non-toxic 'cause I've eaten the tip of one of those too...

As a toddling tot, I once stuck a paperclip in an electrical outlet. This apparently didn't learn me nothin' because only years later you'd find me at it again, this time sticking a moistened finger in a "where the lightbulb goes" part of a plugged-in lamp hosting no bulb. I actually did it repeatedly, wondering why my finger stayed stuck there with tingles running up my arm.

In my adult life I can attribute at least part o' the crazy pie I operate from to the poisons I've consumed and the electrocutions I sustained as a young child. This shouldn't spell out a safety freak, but in my windex-soaked, crayola-colored world, it **zzzzap!** does. Just ask my school children what happens if their granola bar happens to "may contain peanuts" or how many lessons they get on "scissor safety" before earning their safety blades...
My face should be on a sticker.

BARNUM!

2006-04-16T21:16:00.000-05:00

Come one, come all and JOIN THE CIRCUS!

4th Wall Productions in association with Cunneen-Hackett Arts Center Proudly Present:

BARNUM- (A Musical based on the life of the circus great, P.T. Barnum)
Cunneen-Hackett Arts Center
12 Vassar Street
Poughkeepsie, NY 12601

Friday, April 21st @ 8PM
Saturday, April 22nd @ 8PM
Sunday, April 23rd @3PM

Friday, April 28th @ 8PM
Saturday, April 29th@ 8PM
Sunday, April 30th @ 3PM

Adults- $15, Students/Seniors- $12

For Tickets/Reservations, please call: 497-1390
or visit www.4thwallproductions.net

I Have A Pickle! (that's right...)

2006-03-10T17:24:00.000-05:00

So what do you do when you're undergoing treatment for a shoulder injury and you sustain a neck injury as a result of a car accident?

Yep, I got rear-ended on the way to work Wednesday morning. I am now suffering acute cervical strain, for which I will need physical therapy for my neck.

My shoulder's still on the mend... but you can't go to physical therapy for one thing when you can't move another... So now I am essentially two injuries on one body with two insurances... They'll have to consider both when I do go back to PT, but I pay for each one separately on separate appointments... oh sweet, dill pickle-rama!

(People thought I was actually dating my physical therapist due to clever wording a few blogs ago.... not true, but it does look like I'll be seeing more of him.)

I miss my school children. I can't wait to finally be done with pain all-around...

Teengs Ess Guud

2006-03-03T20:04:00.000-05:00

Yess.. and eye paye all deh bills on taym.

(Dusty as it may be, I can still play a mean "limbo" on the steel drum...mon :-P)

Shoulderific, Uncle Sam-Flavored Ramen!

2006-02-08T18:16:00.000-05:00

I went to physical therapy and learned that what’s actually wrong with my shoulder is that I have an “impingement.” Basically this means that there is a swollen bursa above my rotator cuff that creates a pinch point when I raise my arm above my shoulder. The bone it is sandwiched between is the acromion, and mine just happens to be bent inward, thus creating less space for said bursa to be swollen. In thinking I should work it through the pain I was actually keeping it swollen. Go me.

My physical therapist, Chuck, thinks I’m a funny gal just because I can’t seem to answer any question simply. I’ve never really been very good at that. (ha) But really, how do you answer a question about pain simply? I always thought you should leave “room” for worse pains in your life, like childbirth, for example… And does pain mean “bad” pain or any pain? Other children who were beaten probably can’t answer this either. It’s hard to figure out what does hurt “bad enough” to be considered pain… Who knows. But at least Chuck is amused.

I like Chuck. He knows things.

So, I’m on the mend, finally… Hopefully I’ll be able to hit the slopes a few more times before the season is over. I’ve got free tix, man!

All that being said, I must share my most recent trauma, being anally raped by Uncle Sam. Yes, Uncle Sam indeed has a great big one, and has recently shoved it forcefully and repeatedly into my anus (without permission).

Ya see, a few years back I did the Teach For America program in the Bronx. This program is affiliated with Americorps, so you get an “Education Award” for each year you serve. It essentially totals a little over $9000 and you can either use it to repay loans or to pay for other coursework. I chose the former and thought I’d be doing good by sending it as a big wad to the federal loans people. These guys did reward me by saying I was prepaid until 2009. Sweet! (or so I thought…)

So where does Uncle Sammie’s King Don come into this tale? A few days ago I got this little slip that says that the money I sent TO THE GOVERNMENT is considered “miscellaneous income” and that I would have to pay taxes on it since it hadn’t been taxed. Basically I have to pay taxes on money that wasn’t ever mine that I already sent TO THE GOVERNMENT to pay money I owe TO THE GOVERNMENT by way of student loans. Having my loans prepaid until 2009 puts me in the oh-so-interesting predicament of owing the government an extra $2000 in taxes! I tried to talk myself out of crying the other day, but the tears did come, as did my realization that I do not (in any way, shape, or form) have that kind of money to throw to the gov’t.

So how is that fair, people…eh? Hoepfully I can work something out before I have to sell my Christmas tree and live off of Ramen Noodles for the next 5 years.

Hey, but at least my shoulder’s getting better… --And I have a “date” with Chuck on Valentine’s Day… :-P

Rote Eight Or...?

2006-01-13T20:47:00.000-05:00

With all the skiing I've been doing, it was only a matter of time before I sustained my first "minajorish" injury.

(Rewinding a bit:)
Before I went up to Stratton for New Years, I strained my back while sleeping at my mom's house on a cot, fell over a hand truck at Wal-Mart and bruised my shin, and sprained my ankle on the way to throw out my garbage. Yes, everyone just take a min to imagine all that I endured. I'm sure 2 of the 3 would have been funny to witness.

So, even though when I walked I looked like a gimpy duck, I decided to go skiing anyway. On the second or third run, halfway down a somewhat icy trail, I skidded, flipped and fell onto my right arm. As soon as the impact finished, I knew that this was slightly worse than the shoulder thing I had last year. But, since my shoulder was not needed in getting me down the hill and back onto the lift, I kept skiing. And I went skiing the following day.

Two weeks later, when I still winced when putting on a coat, I decided it was time to see my doctor...

A few x-rays later, it turns out I might have done something to my rotator cuff. As I sit here tonight, I am "slung" in the right arm. What a pain in the ass everything is when your doc says you can't use your arm for at least a week. It's a lot harder than I thought. Try shifting your car with your teeth...go ahead.

I need to heal. I've got a lot of painting and guitar playing to do.

Heal, self.... heal... (Heal, I say!)

GO NOW!

2006-01-12T21:17:00.000-05:00

RUN, don't walk, and pick up a copy of The Four Agreements, by Miguel Ruiz... (The man should pay me for how much I am promoting his book...) Seriously, get it and read it, and get back to me.

Happy Birthday Nanny!

2006-01-10T23:11:00.000-05:00

Today, Violet Margaret (Maher) Ferrare would have been 70 years old. (She passed away three years ago from a rare and inoperable brain cancer at 67.) I think of her often and still miss her. I know she's up there shining with her fiery red hair and equally fiery sense of humor. I'm proud that she's a 1/4 of who I am. She rocked all gra'mas, and not just 'cause she was mine...

Take a Bite Outta Life!

2006-01-07T22:16:00.000-05:00

Hee, hee... ha, ha... ho, ho!

Zippity do dah!

Rama-lama ding dong!

You live and you certainly learn. New Year's in VT rocked my ski socks! I got a new digi cam for CHRISTmas, and perhaps someday I'll learn how to hook it up to my computer. All it is, is a USB that you plug right into the computer, but seniorita anti-technology might take a few weeks to catch on...

Let the resolution writing commence! (Confucious say, "titles optional." <--I like that one.. ;-))

Better Than Slippers

2005-12-29T14:20:00.000-05:00

I'm wearin' my new ski boots!

I'm wearin' my new ski boots!

Hi-ho-the-derry-oh!

I'm wearin' my new ski boots!

Salomon makes great stuff. When you buy their ski boots, they warm them in this machine, then mold them to your feet. Very cool...

Last year, freshly new to the sport, I attended the "Swap Sale" up in Kingston. Seeing a pair of boots for $40, I was even happier when they fit like a glove. They were a 25.5. 'Blading my little heart out, the boots became so loose, my heel would come up every time I tried to turn. For all of you skiers out there, that's a dangerous way to continue.

I got a gift card to Potter Brothers from Jay for Christmas. (What a guy... ;-)) So when I went in, they have to first measure your feet. Apparently the boots I had been using were 1 1/2 sizes too big. My foot measures a mere 24 (unknown units of measure... cm, perhaps?)

(ADHD is taking over, and I should end this post... haha!)

I have cool new boots, I'm going skiing in VT for New Year's, and I'm ooily, gooily in love. 2006 is looking mighty promising!

These Irish/Italian/German Eyes are Smiling

2005-12-23T15:45:00.000-05:00

When kissing:

Your heart should skip a beat and/or race.

You should feel a general tingly sensation in and around your chest area.

You should lose track of time.

When thinking about kissing:

You should feel that same tingly sensation.

You should giggle.

I'd nearly forgotten what it should be. I'm glad to be back.

Funny how something can dangle right in front of your face, but take you four years to actually see... ;-)

Merry Christmas, universe! Ain't nothin' could bring me down!

Sled Dogs and the Victory Yoo-Hoo!

2005-12-21T22:45:00.000-05:00

Yes, another skiing post.

I went to Jiminy Peak again with Jay last night.

So I ain't 'fraid of night skiing anymore and felt good about the mountain since being at the "definitely larger" Mountain of Gore over the weekend. I've learned that boys go faster on skis than most girls, and I like the pressure of keeping up with the speedier guys.

In the spirit of an old tradition, if you ski down the black diamond trail called "Whitetail" with ferocity, someone has to buy you a Yoo-Hoo. I earned mine last night. That's right... all on my "sled dogs," baby...

Fun on the Gondola!

2005-12-18T16:56:00.000-05:00

I suck up each ounce of pain I am feeling in my neck and shoulders because Gore Mountain rocks! The "Sleeping Bear" trail kicked my butt in it's ungroomed glory, but was one of the most fun runs of the day. Snowblades don't really do well in unpacked powder, but since bumbles bounce, I didn't get hurt when I flew forward over and over again into the fluffy pillows of glory.

In other ski-riffic news, I did jumps and wee tricks on some mini moguls. I shant know the whereabouts of my mini white scarf, which was mysteriously blown off during a speedy run down the east side of the mountain. But, oh what fun... I did run into some old students from last year, one of which was spreading a rumor that I was engaged.

Helmets Are For Suckers

2005-12-15T19:56:00.000-05:00

I bought one. It looks rediculous. It feels even sillier. I hit my head while skiing (snowblading) Tuesday night. It saved my noggin.

I am a freakin' champion on the slopes now. I can live to tell of my adventures in night skiing because I am a sucker who bought a helmet. Yahoo and willy-dee!

If you or someone you love (or even mildly like) plans on hittin' the slopes this season, be sure to get one. It won't give you special powers, but it'll power you from being special.

Random Acts at Kaal

2005-12-09T23:28:00.000-05:00

Me and my neighbor Jay from upstairs just put on our snowpants and threw ourselves into the snow on my deck. I tried to make a snow angel but there was only so much room on my deck. The stars look pretty when you're laying in snow. Spontaneity and a buddy to share it with rules! :-)

Recent Break-Up :-D

2005-12-08T17:56:00.000-05:00

Monday, December 5th was one of the best days of my life.

Now, I've been a regular church go-er for the past few months. I never did post about my comical confession, but since I did go, I am able to receive Communion. I usually go to the 12:00 mass, but this week I decided to go to the 10:30.

I try to get at least one thing out of the priest's message each week. Those of you who keep in regular touch know that I took a seasonal position at Filene's to help pay for my parents' big birthday celebrations this year. (50th and 60th) In the shortest of shorts: I hated it.

So I'd complain and complain to anyone and everyone and I was getting really stressed out by it. People can be really unbearable around the holidays, returning freshly washed items without tags and giving you 'tude when your computer can't scan them without tags... etc.

So I was hemming and hawing staying or quitting, friends (without a beat) unanimously telling me I should quit.

So I'm at church, trying to follow the priest's somewhat flowery interpretation of the gospel. I didn't really understand much of what he was saying, but he ended with a summative thought: "So stop, and take time to enjoy the little things."

That was certainly enough for me. I got the final thread of endorsement that I should indeed quit. I made up my mind, and went into work with a fresh spirit. Of course, the actual act of quitting made me feel the way a girl feels before a "break up" phone call, but I knew what needed to be done. I had to break up with Filene's. Our relationship had never gotten off to a healthy start, and since I've given up sticking with things that are unhealthy, she simply had to go.

After all was said and done with the quitting part, I got PUMMELED by the "Christmas Sprit" that had been waiting 3 weeks to fill me with joy. It came all at once, and I was a joyous freak, spreading cheer to anyone I could find while I left Filene's and entered the mall.

I did what any fun-filled sprite would do and went Christmas shopping. I got all kinds of cute stuff for my peoples, all the while upholding the elation.

I now proudly sing and dance around my living room with a renewed happiness that this season always brings... (and that this one is specifically bringing... ;-))

With a sigh and a giggle, I wish all who read this a happy and joyous season. If you're working retail for a stunning 10 cents a minute like I was 'til all hours, perhaps it's time to break up too...

A Few "Littles"

2005-11-25T13:21:00.000-05:00

Thanksgiving was a rockin' time. I enjoyed sending group texts to all my peepuls in my phone. Dog sledding and people who do it are cool.

Cleaning: My 'Un-Smart'

2005-11-21T13:17:00.000-05:00

Those of you who know me well, know that I hate to clean. Haaaaate it. I hate it so much, that I don't do it often, if at all. My room is the worst, the adventure I like to call "Clothes Mountain." Stepping an inch, you might find a shoe, a pair of jeans, a fan, a broken mirror, or most recently, a new pair of snowblades. Yeah, I wish I were rich so I could hire someone else who is good at cleaning to get my act together for me. (That’s what I would buy with a dollar and a dream…)

All of that being said, does anyone else find it odd that I would CHOOSE to work in a clothing store? When I recently accepted a seasonal position at Filene's it never occurred to me that part of my job would essentially be cleaning and organizing the same stuff over and over and over again... To some it might be tolerable, but to me it’s flat out TORTURE! FOLDING….. SORTING…..ORGANIZING!!! AAAAAAAHHH!

I’ve been there two days so far and I’m about done. I am stellar at the customer service piece. I can talk any old lady down from a hissy over a coupon, or find a way to save everyone an extra 20%. My issue comes when I walk over to a table of sweaters I just folded and find them in total disarray with an old man sitting on top of them! I feel like a 5-year-old who needs a nap when I go into the dressing room and find a HEAP of clothes on the floor!

When I was there ‘til midnight the other day (by myself) I thought I was going to break down and cry. I guess retail isn’t for everyone. But then again, people who work in the jewelry department never have to fold their necklaces.

Pray for me, will ya? Maybe when I’m through with “fold camp” I’ll have the strength enough to conquer “Clothes Mountain.” (Ha!)

Self-Discovery

2005-11-16T20:35:00.000-05:00

Everyone is an asshole, so be rude to everyone. When innately good, kind people eventually become the assholes you expected (in response to your repeated rudeness), you'll thank yourself for having been rude to them because you knew they'd eventually be assholes.

The self-fulfilling prophecy ends here.

If I sneered at you upon our first, second, or seven-hundreth meeting, I am sorry.

People feed off of any energy you put out there, and I'm only starting to realize how much negative energy I've put into the universe. I've tried to protect myself by pushing others away, and it's worked too well. I've essentially been my own worst enemy, working to make people dislike, fear, or avoid me.

Here's to giving up one bad habit. Y'all can feel free to like me now. I'm really not as mean or scary as I've let on. I'm planning on working hard on getting real comfy in my skin-- the skin that lets myself have so much fun teaching, and being artistically passionnate. (If some of you have NO IDEA about this side of me, lucky you....)

(P.S.-I'm posting this to try out a new thing called "accountability.") :-)

This Teacher Hates Boogers

2005-11-08T20:42:00.000-05:00

So I'm sick....

When you teach first grade, you're bound to catch something. Especially since the children are so willing to share all of their germs with you. "Here's a nice green one oozing from my nose that I will wipe on my shirt and share with you during a reading conference." or "I made you a picture! ::cough, gurgle, cough, cough!!::

Now, don't get me wrong; I love my class-- especially this year's mix. But it does stink when their cold cycle refreshes itself every two days or so when kid after kid catches what is going around. I guess it's not always me (the one who uses hand sanitizer and disinfecting wipes 100+ times a day) that they're aiming to share their bugs with; they are most generous with their pencils, crayons, books, and other classroom materials.

So, as I type this, I am thinking about the seven remaining parent/teacher conferences I have tomorrow. Seven. While I hope that I feel somewhat better tomorrow, the chances of feeling worse do loom. Especially since my nose has dripped twice on my keyboard since writing this post. I know.... gross.

If you're at all like me, you hate being sick, and are, quite frankly, too busy to be sick. (I think I overdid the commas in that last sentence.) I need to get better fast. I have no time for germs, and certainly no MORE time for boogers.

Please keep me in your thoughts for a speedy recovery! (drip, drip....)

Miami Vice and the Fag Hag

2005-11-06T09:59:00.000-05:00

Apparently referring to someone as "Miami Vice" at a bar is quite offensive-- even if they did have everything but the white jacket. I mean, come on people... If I'd gone out in public looking like Fred Flintstone and someone called me out on it, I would probably laugh and say, "Hey buddy, you're right."

Not the case with this fella. Actually I didn't actually call him "M-Vice" to his face. Vice walked over to this young girl, started chattin' it up, then walked away. Chuckling over his bleached hair, powder-blue shirt, 50+ years, and gold, bangly jewelry I went over to the guy sitting next to the girl and I said (in good, playful fun), "You gonna let 'Miami Vice' move in on your turf?" (something like that..) Stone-faced, the guy says, "Who's Miami Vice?"

So M-Vice himself storms over, jewelry swaying and says to my sister, "Next time you insult someone, make sure that they're not close friends. AND you should tell your little "faghag" over there to get out of here." So lemme get this right, were you more offended that we made fun of your outfit, or the fact that gay people were also there and were laughing at you? Either way, you's a sad man, Miami.

I guess this has taught me to keep my wit within my circle. And I guess I was right in not telling the lady with short, purplish-red hair that "Sweet Dreams" are made of this...

Adrian, Fresh and Full of Liiife!

2005-11-05T18:24:00.000-05:00

Last night, I had a dream about Adrian. Yes, Adrian.

Adrian who sat next to me in chem, Adrian who I asked to the Homecoming dance my sophomore year, Adrian who made me mix tapes, Adrian who I got stuck at the Newburgh Library with one afternoon when his mom left without checking to see if we'd gotten inside, Adrian who taperecorded me while playing video games at his house, Adrian who I went sledding with, Adrian who always had Mentos on hand...

I haven't heard high nor low of what Adrian's up to these days or where he is.

Does anyone know there wherabouts of the "Freshmaker?" I'd sincerely like to know...

Navigationally-Challenged

2005-11-04T22:44:00.000-05:00

As you may already know, I have absolutely no sense of direction. I can't tell which way I'm facing if I'm inside a building, and rely heavily on MapQuest to get me down the street to a friend's house. (I will say that I am gifted at following MapQuest's guidance, but could never intuitively figure something like that out on my own.)

Where did this limitation come from, you ask? Well, I never did have a knack for paying attention to anything while inside a car. I already spend a good part of my day in action and in simultaneous daydream, but in the car is my time to completely warp into a zone-world of endless thoughts and fantastic, philosophic journeys. (I still do that sometimes to the dismay of passengers.) I guess I just completely missed the boat on how to tell where you are and which way you're going.

So anyways, here I was, having successfully MapQuested myself to my destination, "X" Junior High. I was leaving and was supposed to follow a friend to a nearby eatery. After mistaking a white Grand Am for his gray one, I then proceeded to follow the unsuspecting vehicle to it's residence. Oops. At that point, I didn't know how to retrace my steps, and figured it would be awkward to ask for directions from the car you've just stalked to its house. Left to my own navigation, I couldn't even work my way back to the school; It seemed to have just vanished. (I felt like a blind gnome in a garden labyrinth.)

A few times around the neighborhood later, I finally found my way back to the school and then to the main road. DUH, DUH, DUH... I finally met my friends at the eatery, safe and sound about 15 minutes later.

When you're as awesome as me, I guess something's gotta give.

Love Thy Neighbor as You Love YOURSELF

2005-11-03T21:49:00.000-05:00

It was the "love yourself" part that I was leaving out of that last post.

Am working on that too...

--Soon to be filled with LUVVV all around

An Experiment to Try:

Confront any and all of your feelings and actions with "I love myself for...." Fill in that blank as many times as you can, including goods and bads...

"I love myself for thinking that I didn't deserve love."
"I love myself for accepting crappiness from others."
"I love myself for aiming low in relationships."
"I love myself for feeling a momentary hatred for that fat lady at the supermarket with the oily neck."
"I love myself for sleeping in jeans."
"I love myself for the stupid-ass song I made up on the way to work."
"I love myself for my mountain of clothing in my bedroom."
"I love myself for posting about loving yourself even when I have no readers...."
"I love myself for not caring and posting anyway."

It's only when you accept all aspects of yourself and your feelings that you can truly set out to change things. And it's only through loving yourself first, that you can truly love others. Hallelujah!

P.S.- Gospel music ROCKS!

Now That's Better...

2005-10-23T21:41:00.000-05:00

I've missed my people... It's time to refocus and regain some lost land.

Yours truly,
--Friend of David, Richie, Christine, Jim, and Holly :-)

P.S.- Oh yeah... And another good message from church: Love thy neighbor. Life isn't much without love. I plan on doing some loving (heh, heh) to all people, no matter who they are, how fat their arms are, if they've offended me, if they cut me off on Rte 44, if they smell, if they're rude, if they don't like me, if they spit in my food, if they kiss me on the cheek and have herpes, if they read porn, if they suck toes, if they fart in the elevator, if they tape cigarette butts to my front door, if they sing happy birthday while I'm in the bathroom, if they push me, if they use my toothbrush to clean the toilet, if they break a promise, if they cheat on their taxes, if they climb the fire escape and steal my bike... etc, etc, etc... God does the punishing when the time comes. All that I can and should do is love. And I'm including everyone. Amen.

A Work in Catholic Progress...

2005-10-09T21:50:00.000-05:00

I drove to DC and back this weekend, which left me with a lot of thinking to do. (Of course this was on the way back, since I nearly "floated" there on the way down on Friday night in the cat-sized rains.)

Anyways, I've also tried to make a habit of going to church on Sundays. I'd lost touch and needed to get back. One of the biggest things for me that I've been working on working into my life is forgiveness. You know, like in the prayer:

"and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us..."

It makes sense, and I cannot hold grudges if I want my sins to be forgiven. So I am proud to say that I forgive all those who would or have already trespassed against me. It's all good, and just as all other human beings are going to do, I'm gonna life my life and shake my groove thang.

I ain't offended or bothered. I forgive you.

--TP

P.S.- This really had nothing to do with DC, just that I thought about that prayer again today as well as some others while on my 44.5 mile Taconic stretch. I may post something about the Teach For America summit, I think, after I recruit some more readers.

;-)

2005-08-25T08:34:00.000-05:00

Terrapin in Rhinebeck rocks!

Happy "A!"

--Miss McSmirk

"Accidental" Exposure

2005-08-09T14:58:00.000-05:00

What is up with women's fashion in the summer? On the topic, I have four points to highlight the "ick" of this season's trends.

BRA STRAPS

Why does the female world seek to flaunt their bra straps?!

Seriously, this one gal had on 3 different bras, each proudly showing strap. I thought the point of a bra was to provide "hidden support." It seems like everyone today is looking to say something about their personality by the kind of bra they choose to purposely leave sticking out from their spaghett-strapped tank.

THE UPPER THONG

Why, in the age of the low-rise jean, are there so many makers of the "high-rise" thong?

The world doesn't need to know that you tried to hide your panty line unnecessarily in your thick jeans only to have the top sticking up and out. Can't you feel the breeze that might alert you to the lack of coverage, or to the presence of a small, cotton triangle?

BAYWATCH

Do you think that people want to see your exact body temperature through your light pink shirt?

Okay, so if the 3-bra-ed gal was trying hard to cover her nips with the extra bra-age, I might let that go. But usually, even with the 6 bras, you still get visually jabbed with extra sharp and angry nipples.

One other thing I don't get: those tanks that claim to have "built in" support. Perhaps for the pre-pubescents of the age that support is sufficient, but it certainly does not do the job for grama's double Ds.

I THOUGHT I SAW A _______ ! (rhymes with "cube")

Why the need for the extra "roll down/up" of already short shorts?

Whatever "it" is that's now showing, it's flubby and wiggly, and I never wanted to have that kind of knowledge of a complete stranger while returning something at Filene's. Pull your pants up and roll your shorts down. Pull your shirt down while your at it. Cross your arms too; I can see that you're cold.

In conclusion, please put away your bra straps, thongs, nipples, and whatever it is you're showing 'tween belly botton and kneecap. It's all just yucky-dirty and I'd prefer not to feel as thought I'd just eaten a handful of Bertie Botts' foulest beans when I'm out in public.

--Ima Covered

SOCK! BAM! POW!

2005-07-07T13:15:00.000-05:00

Do any of you bloggers out there bruise easily? Are any of you extremely clumsy? In case you don't know me all that well, I am both. And isn't it always interesting when you are covered in clumsiness-induced bruises when you have to go to the doctor. Today I went to the doctor for the kind of visit you schedule because every now and again it's good to make sure everything's a-ok-- a physical exam.

So I get there and I guess they weren't busy because a very young, new attendant took me in right away. (Usually they make you pee in a cup first.) So she takes me around back to do the height and (dum, dum, dum) weight measurements. After successfully negotiating a 1/2 pound in my favor on my chart, I apparently grew a 1/2 inch as well! (The former error wasn't mine, but score for me nonetheless...) I couldn't tell an "F" from a "P" from a "B" from a lower case "r" on the eye chart, but I aced my hearing test.

So I finally get into the little exam room where you wait for the doctor. I had to put on one of those "one size fits the fat man" blue robes and luckily I brought along some socks so my feet wouldn't get cold. So finally the doc/nurse practitioner comes in and immediately notices that I'm bruised from head to toe. I laugh it off that I am clumsy and that I bruise easily. Truthfully I have more run-ins with car doors and table edges than is probably normal. But it's always amusing to listen to yourself give the truth when just about anything could be a cover-up for domestic abuse. That's right nurse... Edwin throws me around a little.

So after that passes, we talk a little about my nonexistent varicose veins, and she catches the glitch in my height. Darn. But I did earn myself some blood work and a tetanus shot. "You know, so just in case your boyfriend decides to beat you with a rusty pipe and really make a sensational mark, you won't get lockjaw." (kidding)

So next time you have to get checked out, don't forget to fall down the stairs, run in the path of a speeding shopping cart, or do some stunt cartwheels. You just might get the same funny looks and/or sparkly bandaids as I did. All for the reasonable price of a $15 copay and a little blood.

I love teaching...

2005-06-28T19:35:00.000-05:00

For two years I woke up early enough to get showered, dressed, and ready to catch the 5:15 AM Metro North train into the city. I would make my stop at Harlem 125th and make my way to the subway station to catch the 4 uptown. Sometimes I'd catch a breakfast sandwich before I boarded the train, but I was usually much too tired to even think of food. To the rest of the world it was about 7:00 AM and time to get out of bed.

One of my favorite/dangerous things to do when I saw my train approaching was to step really close to the edge of the platform and wait for the "whooosh" of the train as it passed. The first time I did it I was terrified, yet refreshed and awakened at the same time. This would become a daily routine, one that I never got desensitized to.

So anyways, a year of upstate teaching under my belt, I decided to pay my old school a visit. Thinking I would wake up at my "usual" city time, I set my alarm REAL early. (Ha--This new "country" girl didn't actually get out of bed until around 7:20.)

I knew the kids had a half day and I arrived just in time to see the first group of kids (grades K-1) leaving the cafeteria to go back to their classrooms to pack up. It was there that I got to see my "sister" Cele. (Who taught first grade with me while I taught there.) When the other group of kids came down (grades 2-4), I was bombarded. Hugs, smiles and "Miss Paradises!" engulfed me. It felt great.

So even though I can no longer hack the early rising, it was worth trekking down there today to see my "babies" a year older.

(The smile on my face will last at least a week... :-))

A-Nuh-Nuh-Nuh-Nah-Nuh-Nuh.......thmp, thmp, thmp

2005-06-08T20:16:00.000-05:00

To the tune of "When Johnny Comes Marching Home..."

Will I ever post again, dunno, dunno
I haven't since the 6th of May, oh no, fuh sho!

Katamari Damacy
Has seen more time than blogs for me

But I think I'll try to
"Roll over" some posts again!

--Looks Sexy in a Chef's Hat

2005-05-06T15:55:00.000-05:00

Decisions, decisions...

Leaving 617...

2005-05-04T22:31:00.000-05:00

As I consider (at last) settling into 845, I am left with a difficult question---

Sprint or Verizon?

Guide me, o wise bloggers...

--Hai A. Tuss

Give It BACK To Me, Baby! (Uh-huh, uh-huh!)

2005-04-15T17:38:00.000-05:00

There once was a tax procrastinator from pok
Who thought she'd need an hrblock bloke
But with trusty broadband speed
A computer was all she'd need
To file and please Sam and his folk

REFUND, baby! How'd y'all do?

(P.S.- This was one of very few "non-sucky" things about my week...)

--T

I'm ready now; I've seen it all...

2005-04-04T17:50:00.000-05:00

Rock climbing shoes- $48

Harness- $21

A joyful, smiling toddler in a stroller who gives you an extended flip of the bird while you take a rest from your wild sale exhaustion at the mall...

Priceless...

--Can't make this stuff up

Santa and the Scholastic Book Order

2005-04-02T10:08:00.000-05:00

A childhood pastime... Ah, the joys of getting one of those colorful newsprint booklets. Sometimes your parents would say yes to your demands of a special MadLibs 3-pack or the latest Babysitter's Club. A few weeks later, long after you'd forgotten about the books you may or may not have ordered, they appear magically and efficiently. The world is a-ok.

"Hey Billy... give me an adverb."

As a first year teacher in the city, as my perspective changed from joyful child to responsible teacher, so too did my opinion of book orders.

"What!? You mean someone actually has to order them? You mean they don't just come magically? What's that you say about Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny? Nooo!"

I avoided them like the plague. After only a few halfhearted questions about what they were, pretty soon the kids didn't care either.

BUT...

Kids in the suburbs aren't easily fooled. They want those books and their parents actually have the money to order them. So, after about 5 solid weeks of hounding by a certain Adam Sandler-esque classroom comedian, I finally decided to give the whole shebang a try. Yes, I said shebang.

Thankfully, the people on the phone were very nice and didn't make me feel too silly about not having a clue. I put my teaching assistant in charge, and books came and monies went just like the old days. But one day, after months of ordering, my TA informed me of these "points" I earned because of all the books the kids were buying. She encouraged me to use the points to get free stuff for my classroom. Points? I guess there had to be a perk somewhere. But, I was afraid to disrupt the mystical wonder of the book order, so I just let them keep piling and piling up.

Typically, when the books arrive, the only thing left at the bottom of the box after the grand ceremonious distribution of the books are the next month's booklets. Something was different this time that made all of my hesitations and reservations with the book order world finally disappear. I got my first "free" teacher items. It was like chocolate rain on a day of terrible PMS.

Shiny, new, and all for me, I enjoyed and appreciated the teacher manual about science projects and the 50 states pocket guide. But, below everything else, was my evidence for why Santa and the Easter Bunny must be in cahoots with the folks at Scholastic Books. (They ARE real.) Shrink-wrapped in plastic was a packet of books and a puffy, yellow wristband. The wristband had SpongeBob's face on it!! The face!! Hee hee! How else would Scholastic have known to send that particular item to ME?!

Many people wear a yellow "Livestrong" band to support cancer (or to be cool) or a purple band to support Lupus. I now proudly wear SpongeBob, to show children large and small that there really is a Santa Claus. I'd been a good teacher and he put in a good word over at Scholastic. The world is, once again, a-ok. Plus, I still have all of my magical, wonderful "points." Maybe someday I'll use them.

"Hey Billy... order some more books!"

Wanna ride bikes? (An ADD-a-thon...)

2005-03-30T22:42:00.000-05:00

Most of you are probably at work, and, unless you're a construction worker, you're probably indoors.

He-he-ha-ha!

I rollerbladed in the sunshine for 2 hours this morning and can't wait to do it again tomorrow!

Spring break RULES!

--Has rollerblades, iceskates, ski boots, and ballet shoes in her car right now and has used 3 of the 4 in the past 3 days... and wants to buy rock climbing shoes

P.S.(Random!)- I used to think the song "Funk Soul Brotha" said "Funk's Yo Brotha"

Skat-Skatters and Marshmallow Peeps

2005-03-27T10:40:00.000-05:00

Bo-bat-bo-bat-shoo-shoo-do-be-do-bat-dat!

I had a dream entirely in "skat" last night. I used to have dreams partly in French when I studied there, but that was because everyone else was speaking that lang (and so was I). As far as I know, there are no widespread skat-skatters in my life.... I'm also pretty sure those cheesy dream interpretation books don't say anything about skat...

What does it mean!?

--P

P.S.-Happy Easter!

Send Me to Madame Pomfrey!

2005-03-25T14:12:00.000-05:00

Who's got the strep, baby?
Who's got the only positive culture at the doc's?

Who's got the strep-- who's got the streppy, streppy?
Who's got the only positive culture at the doc's?

(name that tune....)
Yes, 'twas strep throat, BUT.....

I'm feeling a LOT better today thanks to my strict regimen of popsicles and orange sherbet.

I've watched Harry Potter's Secret Stones and Sorcerer's Chambers a dozen times to promote healing. What do y'all watch when you're sick?

--Nappit T. Napstah

Expensive Lanyard

2005-03-23T17:24:00.000-05:00

I am a silly girl. I was sooo excited to go on this trip and of course I waited until the last minute to pack. Actually, I had to go to my dad's to do a load of laundry after open house, which they conveniently scheduled the night before the trip. So, I headed back to my place around 8:30 to gather some darks and headed to my dad's. Clothes damp, I left around 11:15. Of course you can't go on a long bus ride without lanyard, so I drove all the way from Pleasant Valley to Fishkill to get some at Walmart. Sometimes I think they shouldn't keep stores open all day and night...

So, I get a colorful pack of lanyard with little keychain hooks, a few other items, and headed back home. Haha... I now remember that one of the "other items" was an energy drink. I knew I wasn't going to get much sleep and thought that this might offset it in the morning. When I got home, packing took all of 10 minutes. I may wait 'til the last minute, but I am efficient about it. And besides, we were only staying for one night.

The next morning, I woke up early, put on some of my ski gear (and clothes, duh), and headed off to school. I sipped some of the energy drink, but must have been so excited that I forgot to eat breakfast. Big mistake to promote low blood sugar on a long bus ride. Luckily one of my students brought pretzels.

Twenty-five lanyard starters later (don't kids learn how to use lanyard anymore??), we arrived at Frost Valley. I started a tape recorder on my car ride to school and had been interviewing anyone and everyone up to that point. It's amazing how shy people get on tape :-P....or how hammy they get when they're comfortable.. haha.

The first activity my group did was Project Adventure. Our group leader, Elizabeth, was energetic and ready to go. She took us first to the "Solarium" (one child called it the "Solitarium") and we played one of those "name games." I was impressed that I remembered hamburger helper, ribs, and chicken cutlets as favorite foods of certain students. I guess I will remember that forever since I asked that question so long ago and guessed correctly this time around.

Our first teambuilding task was to get the group across these wire-wrapped trees. They had to use each other for support and did a nice job overall. The second part was to cross a wire twice as long as the others with the help of a rope on a pulley. Of course one of the chaperones suggested to the kids that I do it, so over the wire I went. If you're an adult with any upper-body strength, it's a breeze....

Next stop was to the "wall." Imagine a 15-ft, smooth, wooden wall. Ordinarily they don't let groups in 5th grade try this activity, but everyone in my group wanted to do it. They were great at helping each other over. Then, of course, that same chaperone egged the kids to get me over the wall. I've done this activity with adults before, but the idea that 10-year-olds were somehow going to push me up and lift me over the wall was unthinkable. I can honestly say that I definitely pushed some trust boundaries when I gave the green light and the kids actually got me over the wall! It was the talk of the trip and I found out later that we were the only group that got to try out the wall. Go us.

The rest of the trip was cool, and the girls in my bunk giggled well into the night. Unfortunately, later in the night I began to feel a tickle in my throat, sort of a "strep/flu" tickle. At the conclusion of our night activities, one little boy was actually crying in pain from a sore throat. His chaperone got him comfy and sent him to bed early, and I decided to try my best to ignore it for the night. Thankfully another teacher had Advil Cold and Sinus to ease my pain a little.

The next morning, I didn't feel any better and had acquired the chills. I continued to ignore my symptoms as we proceeded with our morning. When we got back to school, 2/3 of the students were complaining of a sore throat. One little boy admitted that he'd had a sore throat for 4 days. Very few things stink about being a teacher; communicability is definitely one of them.

As I sit here and type this, I feel like absolute poo. I tried to call my doc, but he's out of appointments for the night and I refuse to go to Medi-i-know-more-than-u-and-u-have-a-phd-cus. Hopefully it'll all settle itself out. I don't want to be snowed in with something terrible like scarlet fever...

All because I HAD to get lanyard from Walmart at midnight....

-Recoopa Raytor

Overnight?!?

2005-03-21T17:32:00.000-05:00

I'm goin' to Frost Valley! I'm goin' to Frost Valley! I know it won't be as good as my 5th grade trip to Ashokan Field Campus, but I'm sure it will be a hoot. (Try to put that to music... haha)

--P-P-Paradise

P.S.-How've y'all busy bloggers been? Any of you go on an overnight in elem?

5th Grade Poetry

2005-03-09T09:09:00.000-05:00

Enjoy! :-)
--Teacha T

Doing the Dishes
by P. Patel

If I had 3 wishes,
I would make 1 not doing the dishes
Doing the dishes is such a big BORE
Especially when you have friends at the door
They’ve been waiting an hour
“What’s the matter?” they ask me
“I’m doing the dishes; you go on without me.”
“Look what you made me tell them!”
I told my mom
“Look what you made me do!”
I carried on and on
After I finished the dishes
I went outside and saw a genie
He asked me,“Do you want 3 wishes?”
“I would’ve liked them BEFORE I did the dishes,
But I’ll take them anyway.”
They’ll come in handy
When I do the laundry.

Wrongo Dongo

2005-02-28T19:26:00.000-05:00

I'll give you three guesses what the title of this blog means. And no, it's not Donkey Kong's cousin.

If you get it right, I have a surprise for you.

--Plingo Mingo

P.S.- Happy snow!

Stella's Gettin' It Back!

2005-02-23T23:46:00.000-05:00

No more eye thing, sassy new glasses, clean and redecorated apartment...

As Napoleon Dynamite would say--- "Yesssssssssssss!!"

--Mlle Rejuvenated

P.S. (but more of a Q.)- If you had a theme song, what would it sound like? (Right now, mine would have a funky beat and some kind of guitar solo...)

Oooh! Pick me!!

2005-02-17T21:23:00.000-05:00

Okay, now I have the eye disease...

It doesn't seem to matter how many times a day you wash your hands or use Purell; If you're a teacher, you're a gettin' da pink eye.

It seems to be a yearly event for me, and it doesn't even matter if none of the kids in my class have it. If there's pink eye anywhere in the school, it'll eventually find it's way to a doorknob I'll touch before I touch hand to face.

My first year of teaching was my first, and worst case o' conjunctivitis. I had a severly sore throat one morning, and went to the doctor. "Whoa strep!" were the exact words the nurse used when, tongue depressor in hand, she took a look at my throat.

What does this have to do with pink eye?

Well, when I got my prescription filled, I snuggled into my apt. for a 2-day sick vacation from school. That night, I nestled myself into blankets on my couch and watched some classic VHS tapes (shut up). When I awoke, I had to pry apart my gooey, crusted eyelids to open my eyes. Gross, huh? (I just gagged.)

Still contagious with strep, I drove to the doctor...again. The nurse who saw me the day prior swore she did not notice anything wrong with my eyes. "Whoa pink eye!" was all the doctor said as he wrote out another prescription.

As I sit and type this tonight, I have the pink eye once more. When the doctor checked me out this time, he noticed that the infection was around the iris on my eye as well. I can't wear my contacts, and I don't have glasses. I actually had to drive around blind tonight to three different pharmacies until I found one who had the right cat cream, I mean eye drops. Pharmacists, even though they probably don't mean to, look at you funny when you have a flaming, red eye. But alas, the first dose is in, and I made it home safe.

Please, feel free to comment as I mend and de-contagiousize. You can't get pregnant from a toilet seat and you can't get pink eye from reading this blog.

--Iris Eyetus

Beee-utiful Days?!

2005-02-13T22:03:00.000-05:00

What's up with the spectacular sunny days? Here it is that I've just gotten into skiing and the snow's already melting. A certain lad says there's still time to snowblade, so all hope isn't lost yet. (Have you checked out "SnowBob" on his site?)

Don't get me wrong, I love looking outside and seeing the beautiful sunshine and feeling the warm breezes. I was just hoping there would be a happy medium between Punxsutawney Phil's prediction and an instant spring.

What are your thoughts? Are these spring days welcomed or do you want to hang on to Ol' Man Winter just a little longer?

--Juanta Wearmysnowpants

Clean Machine

2005-02-08T19:15:00.000-05:00

Do you hate cleaning? I mean really, really hate it?

I have hated cleaning since I could remember. I guess parents have to teach their children how to clean at some point, and I know I've hated it since the moments of "put those toys away."

The truth is, I think I am cleaning-impaired. I consider myself to be good at quite a few things, but when it comes to cleaning, it's like I can't seem to work it out mentally or physically.

Take my teaching table, for example. I FINALLY got around to straightening it up (yeah, it swallowed a test once, right before I was supposed to hand it out). I found a thank-you card on it today that I was supposed to give to another teacher back in December! You'd think I would have learned after the test incident.

My desk are at home is just as bad, if not worse. I actually have a new desk waiting to take the old one's place. It would be fine if I had just put the desk together, but no, it was more like 3 months ago. As I sit here and type this, my feet sit atop a small suitcase that I've refused to move.

(Let's leave my room alone for this post.)

So why is this post called "Clean Machine?"

Well, I have straightened my teaching table, my car, scrubbed my kitchen floor, done the dishes, scrubbed the tub, tiles, sink, and toilet in my bathroom, and marinated some chicken. I'd say I've found the right train. Let's just hope I keep it chugging.

How do you feel about cleaning? I would love some insights and/or words of encouragement.

--CM

I Speak Geek... (well, sorta)

2005-02-07T18:23:00.000-05:00

Didja get a load of my neat new colors?

I am amazed that lines and lines of what looks like an undeliverable e-mail can be understood to mean "I'd like pretty blue here, and a little box full of links here..." (madeja look)

But seriously, HTML is fascinating, and now that I've gotten a taste of how to read/use it (thanks to a certain geek), I'm hooked.

Let me know what you think of the new look.

--Aich T. Emmel (::snort::)

Snooze Operator

2005-02-03T17:55:00.000-05:00

BEEEP! BEEEEP! BEEEP! BEEEEP! **whack** zzzzzzz.............
(6-9 mins, depending on make and model)
BEEEP! BEEEEP! BEEEP! BEEEEP! **whack** zzzzzzz.............
(6-9 mins, depending on make and model)
etc....

Raise your hand if this scenario plays itself out in 5 out of 7 mornings of your week. Cheers and welcome to the "Regular Ozzie's Snooze-Pressing" Club, also known as ROSP.

How about this one?
DOO! DOO-DEEEE-DUN-DOOO-DEEDLE! DOO! DOO-DEEEE-DUN-DOOO-DEEDLE!
**push** zzzzzz........
(times will vary based on phone cababilities)
DOO! DOO-DEEEE-DUN-DOOO-DEEDLE! DOO! DOO-DEEEE-DUN-DOOO-DEEDLE!
DOO! **push** zzzzzz.........
etc......

If this one seems more your style, you are a faithful member of the "Cell Alarms Are Neat And Musical" Club, also known as CAANAM.

What do you get when you sleep a ROSP with a CAANAM?

BEEEP! BEEEP! BEEEP! BEEEEP! **wha DOO! DOO-DEEEE-DUN-DOOO-DEEDLE! **push, ck**
(3-5 mins, depending on times set into cell phone)
BEEEP! BEEEP! BEEEP! B- DOO! DOO-DEEE-DUN-DOOOOO-DEEDLE- EEEEP! **whack, push**
(1-7 unpredictable minutes)
DOO! DOO-DEEEDLE-DUN-DUN-DOOOO-DEEE--BEEEP! DOO! BEEEP! DEE-DUN-DOOO! BEEEP!.........
etc.....

The moral of the story: Just let the ROSP set his alarm to 6:51. He already promised to set his alarm for his beloved CAANAM, and if snooze-pressing needs to occur, both will actually get that 6 to 9 mins between each **whack**.

--TP, CAANAM in reform

Buhladin' (and Hokey Hoke)

2005-01-29T21:43:00.000-05:00

I went to a little wee 'mount
I rode more blues than I could count
One time I tried black
Paul joked I'd never go back
And I can't a'er my kick ass dismount!

--The Black Diamond

Two-Owa Nuttin'!

2005-01-26T13:35:00.000-05:00

Oh yes... It is sooo nice to be A. off from work and B. on a computer that won't kick me off because it is a moody bee-otch. (This may hint at my continued whereabouts if you possess the ability to readeth between the lineseths. ;-)) Anyways.............

So, I must first express extreme delight for having rid my bodacious blog of the "edit-me" links that all of the bloggeeks alerted me to (repeatedly- ha). Please feel free to click on the newly updated links to get a closer look at said fellers and fellees.

I must also give credit to a certain natural force that afforded me the opportunity to dive head first into floofy snow banks in the struggle for virgin snowblading supremacy. I am strained and bruised beyond reason, but I can't wait to do it again! Barefootinthewoodsers, you are coming next time!!

Alas, I think it might behoove me to head back to my side of the mountain and face the inevitable doom (doom, do-do-do-dooom) that is my room. If anyone is curious, please feel free not to ask Edwin; He knows nothing. And even if he did, he would NEVER tell. ;-)

As I end this c-ho-p-py post, I throw out a question to all the readers of this blog---

Have any of you ever improvised with food in a non-camping situation, times when you could have reasonably made a quick run to the store, but just felt like improvising (being lazy)? Please share!

--The Blogger By ANY Other Name

Comments! Comments! :-)

2005-01-19T18:18:00.000-05:00

I would like to extend a thank-you to those select few (and I do mean few) who have commented so far. It makes me all giggly and excited to see that there are actually people I know reading my buh-log. Please encourage others to visit!

I have been signing my posts "Mama Blog" by default and was wondering if y'all had some better ideas for pen names. That one more-than-slightly leans on the dumb side of stupid. Any ideas?

-- ?????

Part 2- Auto Woes Addressed

2005-01-17T20:03:00.000-05:00

So, a good 5,000+ miles overdue, I went for an oil change today. The first place I stopped at was the "Oil Change Express" next to the Mobil Car Wash in Rte 9. When a girl with gritty, green teeth told me that I would have to wait 45mins to an hour for the "express" oil change, I decided to head over to Valvoline. Who needs a free car wash in the winter anyway?

So I get to Valvoline and a very, very chipper man in a blue Dickies jumper comes out to my car and asks me what he can help me with. Duh, sir--- I'm here for an oil change. He smirks as he glances at the SpongeBob on my dash and tells me to park my car there and to leave my keys in the ignition. I comply and head inside, car manual in hand. I flip through it, discovering all of these maintenance items that I have totally not followed up on. Does anyone out there regularly read their car manual? Do most people just know about things like PVC somethings, plugs and filters?

As I see my car pull into the garage, I am slightly amused when I spot a guy underneath the floor of the garage. I guess I'd always wondered where all the oil went, since I never saw mechanic "Forrest Gump" bend down with a bucket to collect it. (BTW- My mechanic looked like Forrest when he made his run across the country, beard and all.)

So I watch Gump check the oil, and I knew it was going to be a sad state. When he came in to show me, it was like the dipstick barely touched oil. He then tried to suggest a $39.99 "engine flush out" before he offered up one for $9.99. Yeah Gump, I'm going for the ten buck option. I obviously don't love my car no $39.99 if it'd been 8,000 miles since my last oil change.

When it was all over, I had new washer fluid, air in my tires, and fresh, clean oil. I'd just put power steering fluid in my car yesterday, so I was pleased that he told me that, that level was good. Just before we parted ways be did try to offer up a tranny fluid change for $109 something. Gump, I'll have to wait until after I pay for my dental work to even consider that one...

As I left the Dickies jumper man, Gump, and the Valvoline establishment, I took pride in affixing the clear "next oil change" reminder to my windshield.

Until 33,274... and I won't forget this time!

"Life is like an overdue oil change. You never go 8,000 miles without getting one again!"

-- Mama Blog

The New Blogginning- Part 1

2005-01-17T19:27:00.000-05:00

Well folks... It seems that I will actually give this blogging thing another try. In time I hope to be as clever as the bloggers who have come before me.

Wish me luck?

--MB

Bah Buh Booey

2004-12-13T18:08:00.000-05:00

Dear Blog Reader #399076,

It's highly unlikely that anyone will read this as I have yet to tell anyone about the existence of my blog. Things are cool here... I can't wait until the jolly fat man on the sleigh comes to my house brimming with Christmas joy.

--Mama Blog (in her kerchief)

Fuh Sho'No!

2004-11-20T19:47:00.000-05:00

Dear Video Game Fan(atic), I never knew I would enjoy watching someone else play video games until I was introduced to "Grand Theft Auto- San Andreas." It used to be eternally boring to watch someone else beat the "bad guys" or find and collect the magical items to pass to the next level. It baffles me that I find this game as entertaining as the TV shows I don't watch. Rock on CJ! Go figure! Love, Mama Blog

2004-10-26T23:22:00.000-05:00

To blog, or not to blog-- That must be the question. I have no idea why I have set this up. It must be because I saw all of the other cool people who have set theirs up... Yep. That's it. They are cool. I have joined the bloggers. I too am cool.

--Mama Blog