Men for Whom I Would Gladly Trade My Morals

I wish that my life was so full of excitement and actual personal relationships that this wasn't such a big deal for me. But my social calendar being what it is, the return of SAMCRO is pretty much the highlight of my life right now.....and for the foreseeable future.

Oh Jax....I have missed you.

Finally Fall!

I realize that for most people, Autumn is a special time of year. The air turns crisp and cool, sweaters and scarves are brought back out from their summer hiding places, kids go back to school, and you can practically see Mother Nature get back to work with her magical paint brush as she changes the leaves from green, to red, yellow and gold.

However, for me, Fall holds no such appeal. You see, this is where I live...

The Great Mojave...try not to be jealous.

As I am sure you can imagine, there isn't a real big change from one season to the next. A joshua tree is a joshua tree, is a joshua tree. Winter, summer, spring or fall. Meh- It's all the same. We really have only three seasons. Hot, cold, and windy. The leaves don't change color here; they simply get blown off the tree while still green. Sure, I love a great boob sweater as much as the next girl. And with bulky clothes comes the relaxation of no longer having to suck it in all the time, as is the case during the hotter, more revealing, cruel months of summer. But other than that, fall just means back to work, (where I now get to deal with the children that you parents are so happy to finally be rid of for the better part of the day) and having to find socks that match.



However, there are two reasons why I still hold on to the notion that fall is the best of all seasons. College football (which we will address at a future point in time), and the return of first-run TV. Yes, people....it's the little things. I am not ashamed (well, not very ashamed) that this week has been awesome simply because I have been able to curl up on the couch, or in bed, with a blanket and welcome back some old friends...

Seriously, could Modern Family be any funnier?  You are officially my new The Office.

and even meet some new ones (who I certainly will not be kicking out of bed anytime soon). I'm actually working on a plan that includes moving to Hawaii just to stir up some mischief on the off chance that this will be my arresting officer.

Brava, Mother Nature and your magical paint brush. Brava!

I'd Like to Teach the World to Sing

I really would. I'd like to teach the world to sing, in perfect harmony.

Every morning I wake up praying that something like this might take shape around me. And I carry that prayer in my heart throughout the day. Hasn't happened yet- but hope is a thing with feathers, that perches in the soul, right?

If not Barney, Then I'd settle for a group of hulking, strong solders dancing a little Gaga to pass the time in Afghanistan, Quite frankly I think most international disputes/wars should be settled with a dance off. It worked in Westside Story and Beat it. What more proof do you need? Osama vs Michelle and Obama? Like him or not, I think we've got that one locked up.

And just in case they are not ready to shake the money makers, I've been workin on some dance moves that will be sure to win friends and influence foreign dignitaries.

The Bachelor

Whoops- This is a case of premature blog-ulation.

There is a post about The Bachelor bouncing around in my head...which may or may not ever come to fruition. But for now, all I have is this...

The Bachelor


I just don't get it.

Amazing Grace

I am not sure what upsets me more- 1) That I am not on the next Amazing Race; or that 2) The Fictious Love of My Life appears to be running it with his newly minted millionairess girlfriend, who is not me, by the way.

Let me just say, that I would totally rock the Amazing Race. Yes, I am about to toot my own horn, but it's my blog, and I can toot what I want to. I am awesome at traveling. I am practically a savant when it comes to finding my way around airports, am like freaking Magellan when it comes to public transit, I have no problem climbing things, or throwing my body off of ledges, be they stationary or air born. And who are we kidding, I am built more like a linebacker than a ballerina, but I could do a passable job at activities requiring either skill set.

The only thing that has kept my application out of the Race is that I can't figure out the perfect person with whom I should enter. Keeping in mind that theoretically, I would like to actually have a chance of being competitive, and still both of us should come out the other side of the race physically, and emotionally unharmed. I have thought about this a lot.

Option 1- Two girlfriends- Ehhhhh I am a firm believer that this would be a friendship killer. No. Matter. What. That is not to say that I don't have any friends that I love to travel with, I do. You don't get to be my age and single and not develop good, good girlfriends that will go on wild adventures with you at the drop of a hat! I have been blessed many ways in that regard. But adding competition, and exhaustion to the mix, and knowing how I react based on the few times I have been lost, would be a recipe for disaster. I would just hope that the camera crew would be able to intervene quickly enough, to save my teammate from permanent damage after being choked out and left on the island to die because of one too many screw up's with the map. When in the jungle, jungle rules apply. Only the strong survive. Can't read a map? Weak.

But in the spirit of Karmic retribution, I also have the type of girlfriends who don't bother to mention to the group that we are snorkeling with sharks. My friends just hop back in the boat, smile, wave and take pictures from the safety the watercraft. All the while we are swimming with death at our heals. Just helping Darwin along, right? Nope. Not gunna work out. Fail.

Option 2- Me and a parent. No. Just no.....for various, yet, significant reasons in both regards. I love them both, more than words can say. And in an effort to keep it that way....nope on the parents. Fail.

Option 3- Me and a guy friend. Hmmmmm 1)I can't even think of any guys that I would want to spend that much time with (or I would be dating him). 2) If I have spent sufficient time with him and am not dating him, there is probably a douchey, obnoxious, Ed Hardy-esque quality about him that I would be forced to mock incessantly...and that would only drag our team down and breed negativity. At some point he would muster up the nerve to call me out on being a bee-atch. I would cry, because deep down, I probably have a monumental crush on him. And no one wants that girl on their team. Fail.

Option 4-Me and My sister. Well, due to the fact that I would refuse to be seen on any plane/train/automobile with her and her 'anxiety/nausea bands,' she would most assuredly be barfing most of the race. Tick-tock-tick-don't have time for that. Plus- we would fight a lot. (I have a vague recollection of someone getting their boob bitten in one particularly nasty fight. And another time when mom had to drive to Utah to keep us from killing one another, when all I needed was a ride to work in the snow) Plus-she is knocked up with kid number 4, so she's gonzo. Sorry, Jen. Fail.

Option 5- My little brother. My last and best chance. He was a college football player, so pretty fit. If there was a roadblock or task that required nothing but a strong back, he'd grab that one. He is able to think pretty quickly on his feet, too. (Read: not above being shady) He may have even perfected and is the literal 'King of the Cheap Shot'. So that would come in handy. Plus, he's my brother, so I can be mean to him all I want. Then he can smack me in the back of the head and tell me I am being a butthole....and at the end of the day, we're good. WIN!

A Perfect Plan, right? Yeah- Then he went and got married a few years ago-knocked his wife up and is now officially an infant baby daddy and - off the roster. And there went all of my viable hopes and dreams for ever winning the Amazing Race. Dammit. Fail.

FINAL OPTION- So Jeff is now my only hope. If by the grace of God, Jeff can't do the Race with Jordan....I'd totally do it with him. (HEEEY- double entendre-totally intended)

*UPDATE---Usually, they have one 'special' team...whether it's the angry deaf kid, the midget, the really old guy, or a chick with one leg. The only way Jeff and I wouldn't be the PERFECT Amazing Race couple, is if they tried to get slick and have another midget on this season. It would be like my kryptonite. I would be so awkwardly fascinated that I wouldn't know what to do. Do you let the midget win....cause, "Dude, you out ran a midget. Are you proud of yourself?" or "Dude, the midget out ran you. How do you live with yourself?" I would be trapped by my own anxieties and would eventually implode. So there you have it. Do with it what you will.

Cute or Blazing Hot?

It's hard to nail down all of the reasons why this was the best three minutes of my day....perhaps my entire week.

NCI Love you

I don't know if I have exposed this dirty little secret to this here blogosphere, but I watch too much TV. As an English teacher I feel compelled to fudge a little about how much I watch and how little I read. The former I round down, the latter I round up. But I can live a lie no more.

I don't read as much as I should...and I watch much more TV than I ought.

Come to think of it, I've never gotten an official verdict. Do books on tape count as legit reading? Suppose we should throw that quandary out to all the gods ever taught about in theology class. You know, cover all the bases.

Anyhow-What has prompted me to expose my shameful secret? Jeff from Big Brother, Dexter, and NCIS. I can hide my love under a bushel no more.

I do try to work at keeping the line drawn clearly between fact and fiction. But Jeff.....oh my heavens, he's a real live man....and I think he could love me. Heaven knows I already love him.

That's right about where the line between reality and fiction starts to get a little fuzzy.

One of my girlfriends, who has gotten herself stuck in a state of Missouri, informed me that there was an awesome show that I have completely missed out on. Apparently there was some misunderstanding on my end. She was talking about Chuck.


I, on the other hand, thought she was talking about Dexter. A bit dark and twisty, but equal parts gruesome AND awesome. Plus, dude is smoking, fire, hot. I might be able to look past the whole, kill the bad to protect the good, serial killer thing. A man with principles, I can live with that. I could love that. In fact, I do.


Ahhh well, if Jeff insists on not loving me back and I can't live a happy life raising Dexter Jr, then I would like to heretofore be known as Mrs Anthony Dinozzo. This video is probably one of my favorites because 1) Tony is smoking hot and kicks serious butt. 2) He gets a divorce from his pretend wive Ziva,so he's fair game! I'm no home wrecker. And yes, he is a bit of a man whore, that's fine. People can change, right? Right? Mrs Dinozzo. Oh heaven help my heart. I want to lick him. I am certain that you will love him as I do. Unless there is something wrong with you...but either way, back up off my man

And sweet mother of all that is good, now we have an NCIS Los Angeles? I may join the navy just so that I can get into some sort of horrific trouble L.L. Cool J could come and save me from. My love for him goes way back to Fendi bags and a bad attitudes. That really did put me in a good mood. I've always had at least one of those two.

Now the men of NCIS are on my half of the country, commonly rolling thru Dodgertown? That's super awesome. If joining the ranks of the navy and falling into distress isn't enough to get his attention, I'd be willing go out of my way to start some schenanigans that would ensure LL must fulfill his obligation to the law and be my arresting officer. Yes, I do submit to a body search.....and those cuffs...fine by me.


Oh dear...I might need a minute.

I Have Been Bewitched, Body and Soul

I realize that this says a lot about me, but OH MY GOSH. Two of my favorite things. Jess and Mr Darcy, that is.

I Love Real Dirty Things

I'm not sure which I love more, Dirty Jobs or Deadliest Catch. At this point, I think it's a toss up.

But one thing I do know...I love this commercial. That's for sure. I sometimes wish I could break into song. I have a crush on Mike Rowe, the bald guy with the big ol' gun is super hot, and sometimes I wish I had the capability to set people on fire. (I suspect I am missing the point of their ad campaign, but whatever.) I could watch the Discovery Channel all day, if stupid work didn't get in the way.

On that note, Happy Earth Day!

Netflix, I'm so sorry. Don't ever leave me again.

I'm all for self awareness. I pretty much watch too much tv. I can admit that. These days, it's basically what makes my life liveable. I love that if I miss an episode, I can get them in the mail....like a mini Christmas morning with every little red envelope.

Somedays, I wish that a certain few of my small screened friends, would step out of the box and sweep me off to the wonderful world where Booth and I could live happily ever after. I love this show. I love it a lot. I love it to tiny bits and pieces (and I love breakdancing and 80's laser graphics, but that's a whole other Oprah).

Someday, waaahhh-oooo-wooooah.

For other reasons I love this show. Kee-Racks me up.

It's quite possibly one of the funniest shows on TV right now.It must be humbling, indeed.

And yes-I do have a friend at work who has been known to spray down her students with Lysol when they sneeze. I love her all the more for it. That's just the kind of crazy, I can get behind.

In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.

Filming in 5, 4, 3, 2....6a.m.

I live in the middle of nowhere. Seriously. Smack. Dab. Nowhere. This is not far from my house. I could probably throw a rock from my driveway and hit this Joshua tree. (I have a really good arm)

Naturally you would think, that considering our remote location, traffic wouldn't be much of a problem for us.

You'd be wrong.

Every once and a while, Hollywood comes and borrows our wide open space. Normally, I don't mind sharing my desert skyline with the world. We welcomed Bill and Ted, The Flintstones and the Great Captain Kirk.

I can't even count the commercials and country music videos that have used this gas station as their backdrop.

That's great. I have no problem with that. It's actually kind of fun to slow down, take a mental picture, and try to pick out what movie it is that we have driven past and seen in the making.

But what does bug the crap out of me is this street. The bane of my existance.


Out here in the desert, we live with the reality of 'one way in, one way out.'

This causes me some trouble in that, EVERY TIME I am running late for school, the fools at Fear Factor, decide that they need a stretch of open road for a group of idiots to jump from one moving semi to another.

Therefore, the only direct and convenient way to get to work is closed. It wouldn't be so bad if they would put a sign up before you make the fatal and final turn. From the last left hand turn, to where you find the film crew, closed road and inevitably have to turn around, the drive to work is elongated by about 8 miles. And ohhhhhhh does it tick me off!

Fear Factor shouldn't really get all the blame. Sometimes it is the people from CSI Las Vegas. Sometimes it's a full length movie crews. Knowing that I am going to have to listen to a group of zero period students moaning about how I could dare leave them outside for 6.2 seconds longer than they expected REALLY makes me crazy.

Seriously....what Hollywood actors are awake, let alone out in the boon-docks and ready to begin filming at 6 in the bloody a.m. when I am trying to get to zero period ontime?

Sprung From The Clink With Questions

No I have not been in prison, thankyouverymuch. Your lack of interest in my well being is a bit underwhelming, but whatever. I'll get over it. I have more to write about my super-chaotic morning, but right now all I have to know is this...

Do any of the professional dancers on dancing with the stars even have butt cracks at all? Some of the outfits they wear are little more than well placed, sequined handkerchiefs...that dip very, very low....but their cracks never peek out.

I am starting to think that they must be some superhuman form that works so efficiently that they have no need for a functioning pooper.

If they are not some sort of alien life form that lacks the need for a butt crack, I would like to invite them to my classroom so that they can teach the kids, girls or boys, how to keep their butt crack covered up in ANY circumstance. These people are professionals!