Variables Rule!

Around here, especially with high school freshmen, clever is hard to come by...which is what made this one of the highlights of my week.

In case you don’t have your hawkeye powers working today the instructions say:

The missing numbers are integers between 0 and 12

The numbers in each row add up to the totals of the right

The numbers in each column add up to the totals along the bottom

The diagonal lines also add up the totals to the right

Those Crazy Canuks

Okay-normally I don't pay much attention to hockey, cause well, I'm not a commie. I'm an American, we play baseball and hang out at the beach. But if this is how we do it at the ice-rink? That seems like a cause I can get behind.


I'm obviously talking about the foreground, not the background



As if my last post wasn't convincing enough...

So on the "The Mighty B is hilarious" front, he had to give a talk in primary this afternoon. He wrote his talk and I typed it up for him so he could read it easily. As is Mormon custom, he planned on ending his talk with bearing his testimony of the Gospel and the principles that he spoke about. The final line of his talk read something  like this, "As it says in the scriptures, when you serve others, you are serving God as well, because we are his children. I would like to bear my testimony that..."

All morning he would read and practice his talk and at the end rather than bear his testimony, as the ellipsis was intended to prompt him to do, he read it literally. "I like to bear my testimony, dot, dot, dot" Then giggle like a mad man.

We all tried to keep a straight face and tell him that doing that was NOT ACCEPTABLE in any way. We  moved onto the reverence and respect arguments...and eventually he promised he'd do it right.

So there we were in primary, listening to him give his talk. As he was winding up he got ready to bear his testimony, and said, "When you are in the service if your fellow men, you make God happy. And serving can even be fun some times. I'd like to bear my testimony that..." Then with a devilish, but adorable grin and giggle, he backed down the steps from the microphone and muttered just loudly enough that I could hear him in the back of the room, "dot, dot, dot. Amen"

Talk about a Turkey.

No Need to Argue About it. (With various updates)

We are leaving for the airport at o-dark thirty tomorrow to go see my sister and her family in Vancouver. Woo- Hoo!  I have been looking around for things to do while we are there, so this trip is more than just sitting around the house, eating too much, and napping more than your average newborn/octogenarian.

I found this  and decided it was the perfect activity for us to do as a family. Because really, Vancouver is gorgeous and I really enjoy being in places that actually have seasons beyond just hot, cold and windy.  So why not take advantage of the beautiful  scenery and get out and do something together? (And truth be told,  there is not a single member of our family that couldn't be benefited by a trot every now and then.

Yet another reason (and probably the most compelling reason) I wanted to get in on this activity, was because I thought it would be hilarious to listen to the Mighty B tell people that he ran in the Terkey Twot. (He speaks English fluently, but Scooby Doo is still his default language.....which I hope he never grows out of. It's adorable)

Anyhow, I talked to him a minute ago and asked him what he was most excited about this weekend. Without skipping a beat he shouted, "Grandpa is coming and we are going to Seaside to get salt water taffy!"  Yeah- that's right. On the list of things he is excited about my mother and I are overshadowed not just by grandpa (which I can deal with) but also by salt water taffy. Whatever......little brat.

Once that little slap of reality ceased to sting, I said, "What do you mean? You're not even excited about the Turkey Trot?"

He said, "Umm I don know what dat iz." Apparently my sister hadn't passed the word along, or he had just forgotten.  

I told him, "The Turkey Trot is a race that we are going to do as a family. We are going to run along the Salmon River," one of their summer fave swimming spots.

With concern in his voice he said, "I don't think I can run that far."

I let him know that we could walk if we wanted, we could run if we wanted....or we could flap our wings and pretent to be turkeys making a break for it in an effort NOT to be caught and made into Thanksgiving dinner if we wanted!"

Then (the best part) he said with complete and utter sincerity in his voice, "Oh no. I'm not walkin'. I'm not losing to no turkey!"

The Mighty B searching for inner peace with a combination of yoga and temple visits.

Man- that kid kills me. I'll let you know how we turkeys fare. It should be hilarious, no doubt.

P.S. The irony in this is that he is the kid that for the better part of his childhood would say, "No I don't want to go for a walk. How about a carry? You can walk, but carry me"

Addendum: Apparently it needs to be stated that just because I think my nieces and nephews are the cutest, that does not mean I think your nieces and nephews/children are ugly. So y'all can go ahead and stop emailing me about how wrong and rude I am being. Look up the literary term 'hyperbole' There is more than enough cuteness to go around. Honest. Even if my family is taking up most of it ;) And the fact that you even feel the need to argue about this....adorable and light hearted topic makes me sad for you.

Addendum the sequel: Screw that Turkey Trot of Death! It was like 21 degrees outside and has been snowing. Kings a) are not that committed to running/trotting/skipping in any form. Really anything that requires even the least bit of hustle, we don't enjoy these things. b) Kings don't really get down on Mother Nature.and c) Screw that shiz at the buttcrack of dawn. I don't black Friday shop and I don't do things that would have most CERTAINLY gotten the Pioneers killed had they tried something so foolisly planned. It just seems like disrespect to their legacy. I stayed in bed that day, just as God, Mother Nature, and the Pioneers would have wanted me too. I'm nothing if not mindful of honoring history.

But Happy Thanksgiving week anyway. Today- I am thankful for the chance to see my sisters family who I don't get to see nearly often as I would like!

A Dangerously Hilarious Liaison

I'm not Rachel Greene. I am not even going to try and pretend that I would choose Dangerous Liaisons over Weekend at Bernie's. And this video is just one of the many reasons why. The fact that Bernie has prompted this has just cemented my love of all things related to stupid and 80's movies. I've watched this more times than I care to admit and I grin like an idiot each time. However, I'm not sure what these people are talking about with this while 'new dance craze' stuff. We've been doing this since college in the late 90's. We called it 'The Man with One Jell-o Leg.'

And for the record....we did it WAY better than the one white kid (who appears to be in the late stages of rigamortis) they found to do it. Hilarious!

Job well done....

This is what one of my students handed in today for their vocab quiz. They had 30 minutes to work on it.

(Click the pic to see the quiz in all it's larger sized glory) 

It was over vocabulary from The Scarlet Letter, incase you couldn't tell.

Sorry Sexy Strippers

First I was hustled into this.....

because I am not that smart.

The other day, I couldn't sleep.  As a result, I foolishly bought this...

and I have yet to try them.

This infomercial is on right now, but sorry ladies, I don't think I'll  be purchasing this one.



Fat white girl, hip-hop is where I draw the line. I can shake it like a white girl, but not stripper style......not for now anyway.

Bubble Boy

I don't know how many of you know my younger brother, but he fancies himself a bit of a former high school/college athlete rockstar. At his current job, as the manager of a fairly well known insurance company, he and his male coworkers consistantly get into arguments as to who's 'still got it' and who...doesn't. These arguments usually end up with bold and sweeping statements that go something like, "Dude- I could beat you running backwards, in my work shoes, and my jacket on......I'm gunna give you a two parking space head start...and I'm not even going to loosen my tie"

In his defense, he does always win these feats of physical prowess, (which does nothing for developing his sense of humility, but it does make him pretty funny to be around) but keep in mind he is 28 racing against 45+ year old El Salvadorian men who are 5ft nuthin and the last time they ran from anything was.......well......a really long time ago.

So-Enter the Los Angeles County Fair Bubble Thing, a.k.a The Great Equalizer. Before this, there was much talk about, "These people are retarded* if they would just post out and get both hands and feet on the ball you could just balance it then run easily."

And with that....I give you this.


*Yes, I know retarded is an offensive word to some.....but shoving a lump of coal up your behind, waiting two weeks and getting a diamond is not a talent, it's a symptom.  It means you need to lighten up.
**I don't know if it's funnier with or without sound, but if you listen carefully, you can even hear his 9 month old baby laughing at him.

B@$tards Got Me Again

You know all those sayings,

"Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me."

"There's a sucker born every minute"

"A fool and her money are soon parted"

"Kill two birds with one stone."

Well, they all apply to me right now.....except for maybe that last one, I just felt like I needed one more cliche and that was the only one that came to mind, but that's neither here nor there. Actually, there may be death involved, but certainly not the death of any aviary type animal. The death will most likely be my very own....and not by stone, but by DVD.

Remember this, this,  that, maybe this, or the fact that I have permanently switched to dresses and clothes that have absolutely NO buttons or zippers....cause I like to breathe? But most importantly, and most recently, do you remember this?Well- to my credit I wasn't stupid enough to fill out THAT survey, cause I know that would have ended in a string of obnoxious emails and phone calls 'encouraging me to dig deeep' when really, I am quite, quite shallow. However, we went to the fair this weekend, and I was up late watching TV in the hotel when a certain infomercial came on. I got suckered into watching it, mostly just for the sake of reestablishing some shred of dignity. "Those girls are probably like 20 and freaking starving. I bet they have never known the joy that comes with a fried Oreo, or a cream cheese dog on a stick. There is no other way they would have six-packs like that! Bull crap, you lying (fill in the blank with whichever mean adjective you choose, but mine starts with bas- and ends in a synonym for poos). Plus,  they probably haven't menstruated in years being that they have like zero body fat and might be slightly androgynous....but for the boob jobs."

Then low and behold what did I find myself doing? Reaching for my wallet and phone and ORDERING THE DAMN VIDEOS RIGHT THERE ON THE SPOT!

So no- I guess I won't be killing two birds with one stone....I will be killing one fat white chick (with very little coordination and even less rhythm)  with a series of  "Hip-Hop" workout videos.

I am proof positive that Darwin was wrong. Not only the strong survive, the stupid have a pretty good fighting chance too.

*but in my defense, I only had to pay $40 bucks for them....and no shipping, since I bought them before to infomercial was over. I may be a sucker, but I'm no dummy. So suck on that bad economy!

Classroom Management...King Style

I have found a new and brilliant way to keep my students (eleventh graders) from sleeping in class. I'll let you guess what this new tactic might be.....

Granted, I have absolutely NO intention of actually following through on this threat and touching any of them.....with a spitty finger or otherwise. However, I have already shown them that I am just crazy enough that I might actually do it. And that, my dear friends, is all the motivation they need.

For now.

I'm just worried about the day I actually have to follow through.  But no worries, I've got wipes and sanitizer ready.

We want to hear what you think!

Remember that Insanity workout debacle....that was recommended to me by an anti-friend, which I sold to another unsuspecting friend, who made no bones about delivering it RIGHT back to me. Well- I made the mistake of giving them my email address and I got this email this morning.

 Beachbody’s constantly striving to help people achieve their goals and lead healthy, fulfilling lives . . . and we'd like your help!


You've been invited to take this short survey on online diet, fitness and motivation tools that could help you achieve your goals. The survey will only take a few minutes. Just click below to get started.



Thank you,

Your Friends at Beachbody®

They want the truth? I'm not sure they can handle the truth.

Bastards.

Saturday: The Day of Weird.

I had exactly two conversations this Saturday with people that I am not related to. They went a little something like this.....

Number one was at Del Taco.  

Me: Hi, can I just get a large Diet Coke, please. 

Del Taco chick: Sure, you're total is $2.07. 

-I hand her a $20 dollar bill 

Del Taco chick: Do you need your change? 

-I make a confused face....trying to make sense of what she just asked me. I assume that she meant, "I'll get your change," or something along those lines.  But she just stared at me waiting for a response. 

Del Taco chick: So, do you need your change? 

Me: Ummmmm yeah-I'm gunna need my change. 

Number two was at the dog park.

I had a BYU t-shirt on and was pretty much just sitting on the park bench minding my own business. A man who was EASILY the same age as my dad sat down next to me and started making small talk. He was nice enough...and heaven knows I'm a conversational wizard when it comes to thoughtless yapping. We covered college rivalries, the US getting dealt with at the World Cup, and grounding your club in the bunker. Idle chit chat, not particularly flirty, just friendly, dog park chit-chat...or so I thought. So, dude gets up to leave and we exchange pleasantries. "Nice to meet you. Have a good weekend. Yadda-yadda-yadda" Then he shook my hand, took three steps toward the gate, turned around and gave me the Shooter McGavin finger gun and said,

"By the way, I'm single."

I realize that more often than not, I exaggerate stories for the sake of effect, but this is not one of those times. It does, however, raise a few questions in my mind.


A) Do people honestly use the finger gun in normal conversations and I've just missed it? I mean, I'm all for the ironic/exaggerated use of the Shooter occasionally. But really? Seriously? Huh.

B) Do I honestly look old enough to be in that dating range? If so....someone get me a good plastic surgeons number, STAT.

C) Was I supposed to run after him, spilling over with glee and shouting, "Ohhh Ohhhhh Ohhhhh me too! Let's do this!" (and by 'this,' I mean 'it') I totally dropped the ball if that was supposed to be my response. Instead, I half-heartedly returned the Shooter and stammered out a confused, "Ahhhh okay. Got it"

It wasn't even noon yet, but that was about when I decided I had met my quota for social interaction for the day. I'm done with weird.

Does This Count as Second Base?

(Sorry for the premature posting of just the title....I got a little ahead of myself and hit publish too soon)

Over the course of the day, I have just about every member of the varsity baseball team in my class. Sixth period I have a few of them together. Once they figured that I have a deep and abiding love for the great American pastime, they found an ally, a confidant, a BFF. While I do think it is good for teenagers to have an adult that they feel comfortable talking to, I'm not particularly comfortable with a throng of teenage boys following me around, pestering me about the silly, the not-so-silly, and sometimes the inappropriate nonsense du jour. I'm all about avoiding even the mere appearance of impropriety. Call me paranoid if you will, but I watch the news. It's ALWAYS the English teacher. *Ick, cringe, shiver.*

During the passing period the Mighty Casey came in with his bat and all the rest of his baseball gear but looking more than a little frazzled and certainly wildly uncomfortable. He came over to me and leaned in to whisper, "Ms King! My chest was sore....so I put some Icy-Hot on it....and now my nipples are ON FIRE! What should I do?" I did my best, but I just could not manage to convince my face to join in the cover up that I was hysterically laughing on the inside. It was sad, really. It wasn't just the regular Icy-Hot, it was some super strength, made in Mexico, make you want to die regardless of where you put it, kind of Icy-Hot. Poor kid.



Luckily- my internal censor was up and functioning at that time and I realized that "I think you've just got to keep rubbing it," was only going to solicit a round of giggles and 'That's what she said" jokes. Regardless of the fact that rubbing is the only way to get Icy-Hot to stop burning, I decided to go with a less suggestive course of action and settled on, "I don't know what to tell you, buddy. Good luck with that," and sent him to his seat.



I heard him confiding in one of his team/classmates about his nipple predicament. Funny as it was, but to add insult to injury, the kid he was talking to is the complete and total embodiment of Eddie Haskell. With a knowing grin I heard Eddie tell him, "Oh no man- you've gotta blow on it." It was clear from his face, and the look I shot him, that we both knew how this was going to end. In case you are an Icy-Hot virgin, second to adding water to it, the WORST thing you can do is blow on it. That makes it burn with the intensity of a thousand fiery suns. But- because I didn't want to be any more involved in the Case of the Slippery Nipple, I sat back and let the mighty Casey learn this lesson the hard way.



The next thing I saw was Casey holding out the collar of his shirt and Eddie blowing on his nipple like it was the last birthday candle on the planet. Needless to say, Casey didn't let this little love fest continue for too long. And needless to say, not much by way of book learning happened that period, but sometimes life's most important lessons don't come from books.

The Never Ending Festival of Ridiculous

In case you were wondering what type of ridiculous schenanigans I have been up to lately....know that they are plenty, and painful, and persistent. So there's that.

Let me just paint you a little pic.

A) Your body does in fact fall APART in your 30's...literally.

B) Taking a header down the stairs is an injury that tends to linger. And seldom recovers to 100%

C) Horsing around at work....and maybe kicking a kid in the butt (with all of the love in my childish heart) .....is very, very bad on an already weak ACL.

D) Karma is a cruel, cruel bitch.

E) I probably should be fired.

F) I hope Karma is not that far reaching.

G) Under NO circumstance will I allow this to detour Operation Africa...so, don't worry. You can still donate. (just make sure that you put my name in the memo) There is much left to do! I have been reading about the humble (understatement of the century) conditions where most of these kids live and try to learn. It's heartbreaking, I tell you. But they are so resilient and hopeful, that just reading their short bios makes my heart melt! So anyhow-any little thing can help! We really have so much. (Sally Struthers soap box over)

H) And feel free to pat a buddah belly, shake a chicken bone, rub a rabbits foot, toss out a prayer to whomever you pray to that my knee can be rehabed without surgery! Please please please!

Cease and Desist All Party Planning, Immediately

This is basically everything that I never knew I always wanted. The perfect combination of most of my favorite things, TV, The Office and Clue. You can't beat that. Bummer for all the presents that came after this one...it's gunna be hard for you not to suck by comparison.

I hereby challenge any and all of you to pick a night, come over here, and make a feeble attempt to beat me at Office Clue. You won't win...but it'll be fun.....I'll try not to rub your nose in it when I whip you handily.

(Yes- it's true. I am a 31 year old woman, with a career and responsibilities ...and I am super excited about Clue. I am who I am. I've learned to embrace it)

It's cool, like margarine is butter...

Close, but not quite right.

Nevertheless, this post is mostly just to inform you that there will be a sudden and drastic lack of posting for the next few weeks. I am leaving to Washington to hang out with my sister and her family....and purposefully am leaving the laptop home. I figure if I am going to spend money to go visit, then I'm going to visit...with real people, not blog people.

I'm sure you'll manage.

All I want for Christmas is.......you

...you awesome piece of utilitarian furniture. I hear angels singing the praise of such an inspiring and totally cool piece of furniture. I don't just want you. I need you. I just can't quit you and your multipurpose manufacturing.

If you love me, you will buy it for me. If you love me a LOT, you will buy me my own house to put it in. You decide.

Hey Yo, Fat Girl! Come Here, Are You Ticklish?

I found the Christmas balls! I ate the Christmas balls. And even though I am not feeling real hot, my Christmas cheer is officially back on. In spite of the fact that I am now transitioning from clothes with actual structure, buttons, and zippers, to shall we say, less restrictive clothing....I am still felling very, Fa-la-freaking-la.

But all I really want to know is...are you singing the Humpty Dance? Then, my work here is done.

That's Some Pig

I wouldn't say that I'm an alarmist by any means. That being said, when school started (and I eventually decided to join them) I went with a steady supply of hand sanitizer in my purse. I've been around high school kids long enough to know that they are a filthy little bunch....in more ways than one.

But what to do when the aforementioned bottle of hand sanitizer explodes and ruins the inside of my very favorite (and very expensive) purse?

Swine-flu be damned.

I looked the pig in the eye, wiped the gelatinous mess from the once so soft lining of my purse, then threw caution and the empty damn bottle to the wind. (Amid a litany of mild curse words.) Personally, I'm not convinced that the swine flu isn't a conspiracy dreamt up to scare people into supporting health care reform*

After all of my theatrics, I still feel no satisfaction. I am going home to make a BLT and burn my copy of A Day No Pigs Would Die.



*Before you get your panties in a bunch look up the word 'hyperbole' and keep your political rantings to yourself. This is my blog....and I don't care what you think about health care. I was joking!

Oh My Goodness

I know that I have been posting a lot of video's lately, but I just keep finding super awesome things.