Things as they are, and things as they should be

This past week I have been off of work. While I am sure that my ever vigilant students have been working on their research projects, in all fairness, I am going to explain my activities by showing you two lists. (I am sure you can see the direction this is heading.)

Things as they SHOULD have been:

• Spring Cleaning in my bedroom and the extra room.
• Toss out old clothes
• Sort out clothes viable to be donated
• Take the Dog out for a jog (experimenting on my newly healed knee)
• Or at least get exercise in SOME fashion that does not include merely playing with an adorable gigantic newborn.
• Tie up all the loose ends from CSUN
• Get my fat arse off the couch before 11 am at least 2 days in a row.
• Wash Car, get oil changed, check out the transmission slipage that has recently raised its ugly head.
• Get my ticket taken care of.
• Marry the prince and live happily ever after.

Things as they ACTUALLY were

• Got up before 10 am exactly twice.
• During one of those two early mornings, I had the opportunity to attend a friends Relief Society Birthday party where Sister Chieko Okazaki spoke. What an amazng woman she is. I love her! She always speaks Directly. To. Me. I went kicking and screaming. I left humbled and inspired to do more, fight harder to be happy, and to accept that there will sometimes be hardship.
• Did not a single stitch of laundry.
• For some reason felt inclined to log onto ldslinkup again for some reason.....and spent a shameful amount of time wandering around there.
• Spend time in very hard and intensive retail therapy.
• Sat in my robe until about 2pm on more occasions than I care to admit.
• Didn't even THINK about getting gas in my car, washed, or checked out for transmission issues.
• Bleached my teeth to near fluorescence.

With all of these nonaccomplishments...the one that really bugs me is the fact that I didn't even get gas. That means I have to pump gas at the crack of dawn.....and that really puts a damper on my snooze button plans. Meh.

Weather's here! Wish you were beautiful!

You haven't had the pleasure to witness what I did this morning, but you really should. I realize that I am a horrible person for being mean...but why lie?

There is a lady at work today who is probably about 55 ish and quite perky. She is the one who makes announcements to the staff lounge in general, no one person in particular, like "I bet I know what we are all thinking! Isn't it GREAT to have a job?" No. Call me ungrateful, but being that it is 7 a.m. on one of the ugliest days of the year, I am not thinking that. I am thinking many things and that is definitely not one of them.

Anyhow-She is in a Metallic. Purple. Snow. Suit. It is a one piece, very form fitting, with a shiny gold belt clip, and a zipper up the front. There are boots that go along with it. I think she may have owned this for quite some time, maybe since her 8th birthday.

Oh- and she has one of those fuzzy beanies on with ALL of her hair tucked up into it.

Yeah- it's pretty much the most awesome thing ever. I wish I had more nerve and was quicker with my cell phone camera but I couldn't even make eye contact.

*Update- I have received a second witness from a fellow coworker and the beanie has been described as, "...more of a furry turban." I like that better.

Crap No One Needs: Volume 3 (a.k.a Totally Honest Tuesday)

You would think that this would be a prime candidate for, Crap No One Needs, but in actuality, it's the exact opposite. Crap I TOTALLY Need. How I have considered myself a responsible dog owner for the past 4 years? I've been lying to myself, and my dog. Obviously.

And in case my posts of late have yet to convince you that I am indeed the chubby, snarky, stuck in a rut high school teacher and spinster aunt, in need of a change, that you thought I was, let me offer you another example. Crap I Totally Need. As much as it displeases me to admit it, my Great Buns Jeans have become my, Holy Moly Muffin Top Jeans. My Fat Jeans, have become my, Dear Sweet Jesus* Just Allow Me One Last Breath Jeans. I would like to blame this seemingly endless expansion and my ever growing ennui on clumsiness, the economy, and innate characteristics that are beyond my control.

But seriously, it's been 5 months. My knee is fine. I need to get my fat can on the treadmill, start applying for jobs in places I would rather live (regardless of how fruitless the market seems), put my big girl panties(pun semi-intended) on and get on with it. You know, take control over the few things that you can control and quit freaking out about the rest. That sort of thing. But when have you ever known me to do what is rational?

P.S. Please know that, I love you for the intent behind pep talks about, The Power of Positive Thinking. But if you actually suggest this to me, I most certainly will have to physically restrain myself from flicking you in the forehead.

P.P.S. Please don't give me the, "What are you talking about? You look great!" line. Because between the two of us, I've seen me naked. I adore you for your delusion, but a treadmill needs to be involved here.

P.M.S. (because P.P.P.S would be obnoxious and this seemed more appropriate)Please know that if you give me any version of, "I can't believe you still live in that hell hole. What have you been there this long for?" I may not talk to you for a while, because A) get off my back and quit being condescending B) If you're actually reading this, we are probably friends (or friendish). You know what I've been doing. And you know how much it annoys me when people ask questions that they already know the answer to. C) I've tried. Trust me when I say that I've tried...more than once.

I think I need to go get a cupcake and quit with this


* After careful consideration and various conversations with friends much wiser than I, this does not count as taking the Lords name in vain. In this case, it was an honest, sincere, pleading for oxygen. Therefore, totally kosher.

Two Gold Stars

One slightly more awesome than the other.
**click to enlarge

I hate to admit how close to home both of these blurbs hit, but in the spirit of full disclosure...

1. There are 4 (soon to be 5) Wal-Mart's within a 10-15 mile radius of my home.

2. My mom is one of the school clerks that have to hold the 'DONOT' sign. I'm not sure if she was solicited for sugary morning goodies this particular day...but you better believe this will become a long running family joke. Mark my words.

The Daily Debate

I am a high school teacher. As such, I find myself caught in many-a-mind bending conversation. The debate for the day?

Do dog's have butt-cracks?

I offered up a resounding NO. And to prove it, I tossed out the following evidence,
along with the reasoning that you can have a hole but not a crack.

I am amazed to report that I am still in the minority. They are so wrong...but so convinced that they aren't. Unreal.

On this day, I am proud to be a teacher.

Don't Call Me Mellow Yellow

Dear Mother Earth,

In light of your day, I just wanted to clear up a few things. I love you. I really do. I love to visit with you in far away lands. I love to swim in your oceans and hike up your mountains. On some level, I might even call it communion.

I traded in my gas guzzling SUV for a jelly-bean of a car, which can only be respectably driven if you are a 20 year old co-ed. I turn off the water when I brush my teeth and I recycle each and every one of the 36 Diet Coke cans I drink on any given day. I'm nothing if not a team player.

However, I have a few things I would like to make clear. I don't think that we are solely responsible for your temperature. You're a woman. Sometimes you're hot. Sometimes you're cold. You get to change your mind just like the rest of us. Do what you need to in order to make yourself more comfortable. Who am I to try and regulate your hot flashes? I'll do my best to turn the air down for you, but ultimately, you're changing. I have every faith in the fact that you will do what you need to get through it. And we will change too, or we will go the way of the Woolly Mammoth. It's a pretty simple equation. I don't think that we can take all of the credit, or the blame, for the changes that you go through.

Also, could you please pass a memo to the dirty hippies, steeped in patchouli and mired about in their own filth? The, "If it's pee, let it be," plan for conservation, is not appropriate for the workplace. It's disgusting and it's rude. No one appreciates those who leave behind their biologic waste, regardless of their noble intentions. One flush is NOT going to change the world. And please, drink a glass of water, for Heaven's sake. Urine should not be neon yellow.

Go green, not insane.
Jillian

Untolerable Working Conditions.

Let me give you the nooner wrap-up. It's not as dirty, or fun as it sounds.


I got to my classroom, after a particularly nasty 6:45 am dept meeting, to find that there were no more Diet Coke's in my mini-fridge. At the beginning of the day, I didn't think it would be a big deal. It's a short day. Certainly I can make it to lunch, grab a diet Coke from the machine, no big deal. (Even though I am morally and ethically opposed to drinking from plastic, but that's a whole other Oprah.) I reminisced about the days of yore....when I planned and prepared for the long cold winters. I longed for the days when I didn't work in BFE, but that got me nowhere.



At lunch, I went to the lounge for the nectar of sweet relief, and the maniacal machine blinked that empty red light back at me.




I judge this man no more.

Self Portrait

Except I am more exhausted....less peaceful.

Of These Things I Am Certain

1. Regardless of what 'they' say, jogging is not good for you.
2. I look great in my pink beanie.
3. I need to live someplace that will allow me to wear it more without looking ridiculous.
4. Your name tattooed on the neck of your significant other is the truest show of devotion.
5. Being awake and functioning at 6:30 am stinks. Dealing with teenagers at such an hour, who you had no hand (or any other part for that matter) in creating, is a fate that is cruel and unkind.
6. Gitmo shouldn't be closed. It should be expanded to house both enemy combatants and cranky teenagers...all with instructions not to shoot to wound.
7. Pedicures and waxing should be tax deductible.
8. The seven year itch applies to jobs as well as spouses.
9. Smuckers Uncrustables are never the right answer.
10. Puerto Rico is no longer simply whispering my name. It is shouting. SHOUTING at me from the aisles of the sea.

Earth Shattering News!

You may want to make sure your food storage and safety preparedness kits are in order. I believe that this week has brought about one of the lesser known signs of the Apocalypse.

We've been back from Christmas break about a week and I have noticed a change. Small. Almost imperceptible to the untrained eye...but my sophomores...they are almost acting like normal humans. I'm pretty sure the lion and the lamb will be next.

Just a heads up. Repent if necessary. The time is coming soon. It's gotta be.

Can we conversate?

Dear World,
The word is CONVERSE. Conversate is not a word. I can't be held responsible for any damages or harm that may result from blatant misuse of the aforementioned word.
That is all,
Jillian

Be Like Barack

A record of an actual conversation that I had with a student today while I was holding my door open, just a few seconds before the tardy bell was to ring.

I looked over to see a student dancing around in the quad, singing some unrecognizable song-ish type chant and basically flailing about aimlessly. I said, "Hey (Insert student name here. I don't want to use his real name and you wouldn't believe me anyway.) Why don't you go to class and learn something?"

From the top of his lungs he shouts, "I don't have to learn anything. I can be president now!"

"Awesome. Good luck with that."

Democracy is Dead

I am apparently a part of the greatest travesty of modern justice. For some reason, my students are under the impression that democracy extends itself into the hallowed halls of my classroom. I am not sure how, or why, this delusion has caught on. Nevertheless, I felt the need to squelch this line of thinking today.

In one class my students are taking a quiz. In another, they are addressing a writing prompt. No less than 4 times today have I heard some variation of, "How about we do______ instead," or, "Can't we_______?"

I think what kills me is the utter look of shock on their faces when I inform them that I didn't get bossed around by teenagers when I was a teenager, and they can go right ahead now and realize that I am not going to start now that I am 30.

"That sucks. Not fair."

"You're right, my dear. Not fair at all. Deal widdit."

Amazing. Did they think that was going to work?

Let us oft Speak Kind Words to Each Other

"...At home or where e'er we may be."

I'm bettin' my students don't sing that to themselves nearly as often as I do.

It's not even 8:30 am yet, and already I have been told to F-off by a dear, sweet, well raised, little darling today.

As it turns out one kid dared to not notice that my little sweetie was walking in behind him this morning and failed to hold the door open for her. This started an onslaught of, "You an @sshole," type remarks....which in my humble opinion...show a little more about her character than the other kids, but whatever. I'm the Man and apparently always, 'gettin all up in her business' (The other day I made her stop braiding extentions into her friends hair in the middle of class. That's a whole other Oprah in and of itself.)

I tried to reason with her, because reasoing with teenagers is a totally useful thing to do. I pointed out that regardless of his lack of manners, she can't scream and swear like a sailor. Guess I was wrong, cause she didn't stop.

Basically, my little darling, was bugging the ever living crap out of me, so I sent her out. On the way out, she threw up her hands and shouted, "Well then F- you too!"

Ahhhh gunna be a good day.

Dazed and Confused

There is not a terribly large college going population at my school. Be that as it may, we work tirelessly to build a community where kids are both aware of, and able to go directly to four year universities. One of the more minor things that we do to promote awareness is wear our college sweatshirts/t-shirts on Friday's. It seems insignificant, but you would be shocked to realize how little kids know about universities that are not housed in the Greater Los Angeles area.

Usually, you can find me in some sort of BYU shirt, but today was laundry day. I'm all about being true to my school. I didn't go to SUU, but my younger brother did, so it didn't feel like I was completely pimping myself out. Loyalty is kind of a big deal to me.

While proctoring the super serious, double top secret US History AP test, I had the dubious honor of walking a group of female students to the bathroom. There I was, loitering outside the restroom, like a common miscreant, when a nice young man walked by and asked what SUU stood for.

I was sincerely pleased with his interest, and totally aware of this teaching moment I answered, "Southern Utah University," with a smile. What came next left me troubled and concerned.

He looked right at me and said, "Cool. Where's that?" This lead to what can only be described as a meeting of the minds. We stood there looking at one another, stymied by the geographic conundrum in which we now found ourselves. Some sort of mental chess match, neither of us quite sure where to go from here.

Was there some other definition for south that I was overlooking? Is Utah really just a mythical and mysterious land, only brought into existence through baptism?

Certainly, that can't be.

Ever cautious of squelching young, sincere curiosity I stammered, "Uhhhhhh, right next to Nevada? Just beyond Las Vegas?"

"Ohhh that's cool," and he was on his way.

A Life of Leisure

I really, truly, do not know how normal people work at jobs 12 months out of the year. We are T minus-20 school days away from summer, and I think I have never been more excited about anything in my life. Right now, as I type, my eyes are welling up with tears of joy and anticipation.

Having started graduate school this year, teaching a new AP class, Senior project, etc. my mind and body have been racing nonstop, since September. I am so so tired. Exhausted, really. Deep down to my core. It doesn't help that I feel like I am doing a piss poor job at just about everything, but ehhhh what can you do?

I cannot wait for the summer. I cannot wait to be able to read a book of my choosing, to write something that doesn't involve research, to take my dog for a respectable walk, to play soccer with a freaking elephant in Thailand!

Anyhow-Kudos to you workin' folk that actually stick with jobs 12 months out of the year. I don't know how you do it.....and I never want to find out! Suckas!

Please, don't annoy the crazy person

Nonetheless, whoever it was that had the the brilliant idea to spread state testing out over a THREE WEEK PERIOD should be shot. I am seriously about three seconds from going ape guano crazy on someone.

I'm glad I don't moonlight with the postal service, cause if I did, things could get ugly.

Et tu Brute?

Teaching Shakespeare makes me cranky.
That is all.