Staff development was so bad today that I contemplated going to the bathroom, removing my tampon then returning to the meeting to bleed through so that I could get the hell out.
The teacher next door is driving me bonkers. Stay the fuck out of my room! Maybe some would be surprised to hear this, but I actually teach during the school day; *hence, my title: Teacher. I don't know how the hell she leaves first graders unattended, even for five minutes.
* too cranky to care about punctuation
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Monday, January 28, 2008
Back to the Street for a Lesson
Scene: Urban elementary school, cafagymatorium
Rehearsal for Rosa Parks/bus boycott reenactment
45 grade schoolers, KS and first grade teacher
FGT: Do you know what's interesting that I didn't know? One of the arresting officers was Rosa Parks nephew.
KS: (blank stare, thinking: no, you are not going to say what I think you are going to say)
FGT: I think I read it in one of the books. The officer called her "Auntie".
KS stares unblinkingly for a full minute, then says very, very slowly...
"I believe that term was used in a manner akin to 'boy'-a replacement for Mrs., Miss or any other title of respect usually reserved for a white woman."
Rehearsal for Rosa Parks/bus boycott reenactment
45 grade schoolers, KS and first grade teacher
FGT: Do you know what's interesting that I didn't know? One of the arresting officers was Rosa Parks nephew.
KS: (blank stare, thinking: no, you are not going to say what I think you are going to say)
FGT: I think I read it in one of the books. The officer called her "Auntie".
KS stares unblinkingly for a full minute, then says very, very slowly...
"I believe that term was used in a manner akin to 'boy'-a replacement for Mrs., Miss or any other title of respect usually reserved for a white woman."
Sunday, January 27, 2008
Ducking Wooden Projectiles
Blissed out on sex, but I still find the whole communicating part hard. "So do you consider yourself bisexual?" Eesh, honestly and truly, I am not sure, but my answer leaned toward no. I've never been in a relationship with a woman. And, I need to start, like, picking up the freaking phone and calling people. He would have been justified to have been pissed about last night and my, uh, lack of promised calls. When I say I act like a guy, I'm not kidding-I just didn't call. Not because I didn't want to, not to play a game, but just because I didn't. Kinda inconsiderate on my part.
I hope I'm conveying to him how much I love him and enjoy his company, but my guess would be I need to work on it some.
I hope I'm conveying to him how much I love him and enjoy his company, but my guess would be I need to work on it some.
Friday, January 25, 2008
Does not compute
New Friend Requests!
Join Motivated Moms!
Music: "I usually listen to whatever my husband has on, but if I'm alone, country. I love country!"
Do you know who you're talking to? DO YOU KNOW WHO YOU'RE TALKING TO????
Join Motivated Moms!
Music: "I usually listen to whatever my husband has on, but if I'm alone, country. I love country!"
Do you know who you're talking to? DO YOU KNOW WHO YOU'RE TALKING TO????
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Lickalicious
I'd never seen Daniel Craig before this evening, and I can't name more than one movie that he's been in, but if I ever ran into him, you'd have to peel me off the way ya'd get Jim Belushi off an eight ball, 'cause GOOD LORD, the man is fine.
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Cockhole. Bitch.
A la text:
KS to Babydaddy: Yo, can I score some xanax?
BD: What's in it for me?
KS: I won't rip the fucking flesh off your face the next time I see you.
BD: Good enough. See you in 5.
Dinner: Chili, Fritos, triple scoop peanut butter ice cream sundae. Good thing I lost 5 pounds so that when I weigh in on Friday it'll look as if I've maintained weight and gained muscle. Of course, if I ever poop, it won't be an issue.
KS to Babydaddy: Yo, can I score some xanax?
BD: What's in it for me?
KS: I won't rip the fucking flesh off your face the next time I see you.
BD: Good enough. See you in 5.
Dinner: Chili, Fritos, triple scoop peanut butter ice cream sundae. Good thing I lost 5 pounds so that when I weigh in on Friday it'll look as if I've maintained weight and gained muscle. Of course, if I ever poop, it won't be an issue.
Monday, January 21, 2008
Sunday, January 20, 2008
Sandra Dee
"Your RealAge is 31.8!" Not bad for 36, I guess. Two years ago, however, I'm aguessin' it would have been about, oh, 109, due to all the drinking and indiscriminate fucking. Wonder what Amy Winehouse's is...
Friday, January 18, 2008
Thursday, January 17, 2008
Happy Birthday, MLK
Overheard in the teachers' room, CT, urban school district:
"So, did you join that gym?"
"Yes."
"Do you like it?"
"Yes, I do. I took a class yesterday, and there was this colored woman next to me working out and..."
Many years ago, when our Superintendent was quite new, she implied that the teachers in our district were not adept at teaching African-American students. We were all incensed. First of all, I thought back then, look at our demographics; most of our students are of Latino descent; most specifically Puerto Rican, and, I thought, if I can teach and raise my Puerto Rican son I can certainly teach the Latino students in a school district in which I grew up, and any other student as well. Hell, my family members come in every color imaginable. As the years have passed, I've noticed that the teacher (who is Puerto Rican, so her racism surprises me more, though I know it shouldn't) next door places her African-American students outside her classroom door as a punishment, resulting in loss of instruction for them. She even went as far the other day to say, when a student began complaining about something, "I could make a sweeping generalization here, but..." This, and many other examples from other teachers, have caused me to reconsider the Superintendent's statement. The 40 year old teacher who used the word "colored" would be mortified to be called a racist, but how the hell can she not know not to use it? We're in central CT, for crissake. How could the teacher next to me think for one second that I would be sympathetic to her views? I get her students every year because of the special program we teach for high readers. The first thing I said to J*** this year the first time he acted silly was that I would never, under any circumstances, send him out of the room. For him, that means he feels more a part of the class and he knows he can trust me; I knew I had to do it because he was missing skills from being kicked out so many times in first grade for being off task or silly.
This has lost cohesiveness, it's just that I spent the day upset, angry and sad, and those feelings remain. If you don't thing everyone is capable of learning, and deserving of the best education available, then get the hell out of teaching. In closing, a big "fuck you" to my son's sixth grade teacher who said he didn't belong in Honor's math, and asked his Dad what he did for a living because she wasn't sure if he'd be able to help our son with the homework. Guess what, bitch bag-his PSAT results state he did better than 94% of the other 55,000 Juniors who took the test.
"So, did you join that gym?"
"Yes."
"Do you like it?"
"Yes, I do. I took a class yesterday, and there was this colored woman next to me working out and..."
Many years ago, when our Superintendent was quite new, she implied that the teachers in our district were not adept at teaching African-American students. We were all incensed. First of all, I thought back then, look at our demographics; most of our students are of Latino descent; most specifically Puerto Rican, and, I thought, if I can teach and raise my Puerto Rican son I can certainly teach the Latino students in a school district in which I grew up, and any other student as well. Hell, my family members come in every color imaginable. As the years have passed, I've noticed that the teacher (who is Puerto Rican, so her racism surprises me more, though I know it shouldn't) next door places her African-American students outside her classroom door as a punishment, resulting in loss of instruction for them. She even went as far the other day to say, when a student began complaining about something, "I could make a sweeping generalization here, but..." This, and many other examples from other teachers, have caused me to reconsider the Superintendent's statement. The 40 year old teacher who used the word "colored" would be mortified to be called a racist, but how the hell can she not know not to use it? We're in central CT, for crissake. How could the teacher next to me think for one second that I would be sympathetic to her views? I get her students every year because of the special program we teach for high readers. The first thing I said to J*** this year the first time he acted silly was that I would never, under any circumstances, send him out of the room. For him, that means he feels more a part of the class and he knows he can trust me; I knew I had to do it because he was missing skills from being kicked out so many times in first grade for being off task or silly.
This has lost cohesiveness, it's just that I spent the day upset, angry and sad, and those feelings remain. If you don't thing everyone is capable of learning, and deserving of the best education available, then get the hell out of teaching. In closing, a big "fuck you" to my son's sixth grade teacher who said he didn't belong in Honor's math, and asked his Dad what he did for a living because she wasn't sure if he'd be able to help our son with the homework. Guess what, bitch bag-his PSAT results state he did better than 94% of the other 55,000 Juniors who took the test.
Haute Couture
A sweet, yet cuckoo, friend I haven't seen in a while has invited me out to an Artsy Fartsy event. I've decided upon my metallic silver pants, satiny heels, and a silky tank top that gathers a bit around the straps and has a squared off neckline that is perfect for a push-up bra for that pre-Victorian top-of-the boobs look. A satiny, black, calf-length, high collared light jacket should be the icing on a tailored yet feminine look-except for the peanut butter on the insides of the sleeves.
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
You got what, where?
The best invention since the Silver Bullet?
Roll on IcyHot. I may smell like my grandmother, but at least I can walk. Most importantly, it has cut down on my, uh, IcyHot accidents. Ahem.
Roll on IcyHot. I may smell like my grandmother, but at least I can walk. Most importantly, it has cut down on my, uh, IcyHot accidents. Ahem.
Sunday, January 13, 2008
I wanna meet that Dad
What I pack for an overnight at the boyfriend's:
clean underwear, socks and shirt, comfortable shoes, something "more comfortable", pj's for after the something "more comfortable" gets sticky and I start to freeze, face cleanser, moisturizer, hand cream, brush, blow drier, mousse, hair wax, basic make-up, pillow (he has a cat, I'm allergic, it helps to have my own pillow-I stick his between my legs because of my hip issue-heh heh), hand towel, Kashi Go-Lean bar, bright orange base-ball cap in case I don't feel like doing my hair in the morning even though I always do, a bottle of water, vibrator, warming massage lotion (which we've never used, though it's opened up and leaked a few times), and pocket book
What he brings for a stay at my house:
two dogs
clean underwear, socks and shirt, comfortable shoes, something "more comfortable", pj's for after the something "more comfortable" gets sticky and I start to freeze, face cleanser, moisturizer, hand cream, brush, blow drier, mousse, hair wax, basic make-up, pillow (he has a cat, I'm allergic, it helps to have my own pillow-I stick his between my legs because of my hip issue-heh heh), hand towel, Kashi Go-Lean bar, bright orange base-ball cap in case I don't feel like doing my hair in the morning even though I always do, a bottle of water, vibrator, warming massage lotion (which we've never used, though it's opened up and leaked a few times), and pocket book
What he brings for a stay at my house:
two dogs
Saturday, January 12, 2008
Signs Your Local Neighborhood Bagel Boy May Be Using Coke
Brian the 27 year old Bagel Boy was a witty young man who bantered with me in the morning over orders of egg white omelet no butter bagels. When he moved on to greener pastures as a pastry chef, I actually missed him a great deal. I interacted with him on a daily basis-more often than I talk to close friends and family. He even tried hooking me up with another customer one time.
I was leery of his replacements-two young, handsome African American men in baggy jeans and baseball caps. Sure, they were competent cooks and great eye candy, but I was afraid I was doomed to mornings of, "Yes, ma'am, how may I help you?"
Pretty quickly I was getting winks from the taller of the two, an extra muffin on a holiday, and my bagels were burned just the way I like them. Once he saw how the owner and I goofed around when other customers weren't present, he and his friend began chatting with me-when the boss wasn't there.
"Hey, what are you up to this weekend?"
"Going to see my boyfriend-his kids are home from college."
"What?"
"Oh-yeah. You do know the teenager I come in with occasionally is my son."
"Ok, ok-but I thought you was like 28 or something."
At this point, I fall instantly in love with him. Do I look 28? Hell, no, but I'll take it.
"28? How could I be 28 with a 16 year old?"
The guys look at each other.
"We just figured you got started early." Well, I kinda did, but wasn't going to go into the 13 year age difference between my boyfriend and me.
So I left feeling like a million bucks, even if it was just goofing around, and looking forward to daily before-work flirting.
Until...
Another female customer and I are waiting in line. Mr. Wink pops out.
"How may I help you?"
The customer responds with a simple order, and Mr. Wink begins.
"Wow, we're busy today with large orders. Have to have my A-game on. Speedy speedy." He looks at me and recites my daily order. "See, I know what she wants, like I can read people. Reminds me of this movie with Tom Cruise and an older actor, what's his name. The older guy, he's kind of a con artist, and he's kind of showing Tom how to con but is his friend, and they're like playing pool, and the older guy says, 'Look over there, that guy is hitting on that girl, but she gonna turn him down, but I'll go right over and get her number.' And Cruise is thinking, No way, but sure enough, the older guy walks over and gets her number in like one minute because what Cruise doesn't know is that the guy knows the girl and just really went over and said hi. Like a trick. Twelve seventy fine."
The woman blankly gives him a twenty. Mr. Wink opens the cash register.
"Look at all these guys." We look at him, befuddled.
"Look at all these presidents. I open this drawer every day and I'm like, What are these guys going to say to me today? Like they can talk, y'all."
So my fantasy of fucking him on the prep table is shot to shit.
I was leery of his replacements-two young, handsome African American men in baggy jeans and baseball caps. Sure, they were competent cooks and great eye candy, but I was afraid I was doomed to mornings of, "Yes, ma'am, how may I help you?"
Pretty quickly I was getting winks from the taller of the two, an extra muffin on a holiday, and my bagels were burned just the way I like them. Once he saw how the owner and I goofed around when other customers weren't present, he and his friend began chatting with me-when the boss wasn't there.
"Hey, what are you up to this weekend?"
"Going to see my boyfriend-his kids are home from college."
"What?"
"Oh-yeah. You do know the teenager I come in with occasionally is my son."
"Ok, ok-but I thought you was like 28 or something."
At this point, I fall instantly in love with him. Do I look 28? Hell, no, but I'll take it.
"28? How could I be 28 with a 16 year old?"
The guys look at each other.
"We just figured you got started early." Well, I kinda did, but wasn't going to go into the 13 year age difference between my boyfriend and me.
So I left feeling like a million bucks, even if it was just goofing around, and looking forward to daily before-work flirting.
Until...
Another female customer and I are waiting in line. Mr. Wink pops out.
"How may I help you?"
The customer responds with a simple order, and Mr. Wink begins.
"Wow, we're busy today with large orders. Have to have my A-game on. Speedy speedy." He looks at me and recites my daily order. "See, I know what she wants, like I can read people. Reminds me of this movie with Tom Cruise and an older actor, what's his name. The older guy, he's kind of a con artist, and he's kind of showing Tom how to con but is his friend, and they're like playing pool, and the older guy says, 'Look over there, that guy is hitting on that girl, but she gonna turn him down, but I'll go right over and get her number.' And Cruise is thinking, No way, but sure enough, the older guy walks over and gets her number in like one minute because what Cruise doesn't know is that the guy knows the girl and just really went over and said hi. Like a trick. Twelve seventy fine."
The woman blankly gives him a twenty. Mr. Wink opens the cash register.
"Look at all these guys." We look at him, befuddled.
"Look at all these presidents. I open this drawer every day and I'm like, What are these guys going to say to me today? Like they can talk, y'all."
So my fantasy of fucking him on the prep table is shot to shit.
Tuesday, January 8, 2008
I've heard snappier comebacks from a bowl of Rice Krispies
Hmm, what do I hate the most....sbc, Norton anti-virus or Mozilla? Listen, people, my computer is a slut. She is riddled with the technological equivalents of herpes, chlamydia and genital warts. Add to the trusted sites list? Can a computer really ever trust a site? She fell for that sweet listing about small woodland animals then cried for a week after she saw the pictures. Telling her that she's protected from catching anything online is like fucking her in the ass with a condom, then blowing a load in her mouth and expecting her to swallow. Sure, she likes it, but safe? I think not.
I supposed to go to NYC tomorrow (yep, the Annie song is in my head), but I'm hacking up green phlegm. (Oooh, now Cabaret: "I have p-leg-mah in my buzum.") I hate being sick on sick days.
I supposed to go to NYC tomorrow (yep, the Annie song is in my head), but I'm hacking up green phlegm. (Oooh, now Cabaret: "I have p-leg-mah in my buzum.") I hate being sick on sick days.
Monday, January 7, 2008
Oh my, was that me?
Last night's large snack of chili, cheese and red pepper hummus forced me to construct a breathing apparatus, involving a snorkel, vacuum hose and a role of duct tape, that ran from my bedroom to a kitchen window.
There's still a foul cloud hanging above my bed.
There's still a foul cloud hanging above my bed.
Sunday, January 6, 2008
This is me trying to give you an olive basket
"I can tell you're really turned on when your knees sweat."
I love that man.
He loves my ass.
http://horrorsociety.com/2008/01/02/bikini-bloodbath-2/
I love that man.
He loves my ass.
http://horrorsociety.com/2008/01/02/bikini-bloodbath-2/
Thursday, January 3, 2008
Boobs
After a good night's sleep, a massive dump and some re-reading, I guess I understand. I'll just read boobs instead. I mean Boobs.
Wednesday, January 2, 2008
Blog this!
Ok, I will.
I blog on a blog, unapologetically and without shame. Is most of it crap? Sure. Is most of it true? Surprisingly, yes. Do I know how to use commas? Yes. Do I proof my comma/punctuation usage on this blog or any other? Nope. Why? Because it is informal writing (and I do not use that term in any sort of literary sense.) Why do I bother with a blog (or blogs)? For my own amusement, and the occasional amusement of my friends and evil squirrels. I am a silly woman, and this a great outlet for my silliness, and I, unlike my *former favorite online writer, know how to lighten the fuck up.
*Fine, no one has replaced her yet, but I'm looking. LOOKING!
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