MacNamerica

Facts About Barack Obama

2009-01-21T21:15:00.004-05:00

In honor of the inauguration, my students read a Weekly Reader about Barack Obama and then wrote some facts they learned about the new president. Below, behold the fruits of my teaching genius:

Faxe abaet Barack Obama

Barack Obama help people.
Barack obama is the first black pressidents
BrochoBomo likes basketball and he yuust to work in Illinois.
He is going to wark in the ovl ofes.
Barack Obama likes to play basketball.
Barack Obama is a war president. (a war = our)
He was bonrn in Hwye.
Barack Obama was bron in Alaska.
Obama can exercise a lot.

They should probably switch dream jobs

2009-01-06T22:28:00.001-05:00

Child 1: I want to be a soldier so I can help people.

Child 2: I want to be a police officer, and if a bad guys won't listen to me I will shoot them.

How to make a classroom

2008-11-30T22:55:00.002-05:00

I'm currently learning about optimal learning environments in my own grad school classes. I have been reading dozens of articles and books about the many things that an educator must do when trying to create an "intelligence-friendly" classroom, and fostering a supportive learning community. Just now, I read another expert article. This one, however, was written by one of my students as part of our current writing unit on narrative procedures (aka writing directions):

How to make a Classroom
1. put a lot of books
2. put senters
3. put the days of the week
4. put the belatin bord

Check, check, check, and check. My work is done.

One a penny, two a penny

2008-10-07T21:32:00.003-04:00

Today was the first day of recorder class for my students. That can only mean one thing:
HOT CROSS BUNS! I have no idea why this lame song is such a universal recorder classic, but apparently it has cornered the market for easy and annoyingly repetitive songs for elementary school students.

If my eardrums survive this 12 week course of 6 year olds playing plastic flutes, it will be remarkable.

I have been under a rock

2008-10-02T23:03:00.002-04:00

Not really, just in a classroom in the Bronx. When it comes to celebrities, though, a rock's underbelly and a public school dungeon might as well be the same thing. Imagine my surprise (you don't really have to because you're already reading about it) when I read today that Scarlett Johansson and Van Wilder got married. I didn't even know they were even dating! How the hell did they meet? How does Alanis feel about all this?? Well, way to go Ryan Reynolds. I've liked you since Two Guys and A Pizza Place, so I'm happy that you've got such a pretty wife.

In other shocking news, Efren Ramirez (aka Napoleon Dynamite's Pedro) is 35 years old today, which is about 14 years older than I would've guessed. Happy birthday you incognito old man.

Challenge!

2008-09-30T18:41:00.003-04:00

I just got off the subway after riding for 5 stops with a group of 8th and 9th graders. I have realized that, without question, there is nothing more annoying than groups of teenagers riding public transportation. They are loud and they smell strongly of either body odor or cheap perfume/cologne. Worse still, is the flirting: the play-fighting, the name-calling, the gratuitous hugs, etc. I want to vomit just thinking about the Axe body-spray-drenched flirt fests. I challenge you to think of something that is more annoying.

Et tu Facebook?

2008-08-26T22:35:00.002-04:00

As any of my Facebook-abstaining friends will tell you, I am an advocate of the FB. I try my hardest to convince stalwarts to give in and join. I think it's magical that I can stalk just about anyone who is trusting enough to let me have consistent access to information about their whereabouts and pictures of their drinking problems. And I can do all of this without even having to talk to anyone.

That's why I HATE Facebook chat. I like to avoid the awkward "What have you been up to?" conversation. It always peters out and then each of you normally pretends that you have an interest in hanging out together (which you obviously don't). This is draining all the joy I derive from FB. I think more people need to be as happy as I am with a superficial cyberspace friendship. I'm content to know that a middle school acquaintance is attending an "I lost my phone" party because their friend dropped a phone in a toilet. And I can abide by an ex-coworker sending me application invites (even when they are lame and encourage me to take quizzes). Chat must be stopped. Is it too much to ask to be left alone to scroll through the wedding pictures of a high-school romantic rival without actually having to talk to her?

(P.S. I think there is a way to hide your availability on FBchat, and if anyone knows how to do that, let me know. Just don't do it by chatting me on Facebook.)

The Olympics Runs My Lifes

2008-08-19T20:52:00.008-04:00

For the last 8 days I've spent more time than usual in front of my TV with my computer open. Here, in brief, is my reaction to a solid 3 hours of Olympic programming:

Men's 3-Meter Springboard Diving Finals
8:50 pm Dmitry Sautin is a bad-ass (apparently). The announcers keep talking about how hardcore he is because he's old (34 y.o.) and Russian. Also, he has all these scars from prior injuries, one of which was gained from a knife fight. I don't care how many times announcer Ted Robinson says he looks like a Bond villain, I simply cannot agree that a balding man in a speedo looks at all intimidating.

9:01 Five o'clock shadow is not particularly attractive on someone's chest. Alex Despatie, I'm talking to you.

9:30 FINALLY. Diving is over. God I wish I had been dead-blogging this. DVR would've definitely helped because I can't take another McDonald's commercial.

Men's 200 Meter Dash Semi-Finals
9:44 Why is US Sprinter Wallace Spearmon's tongue blue? It looks like he ate a razzberry blue blow pop before coming to the blocks. If he wins, he should totally become a Blow Pop spokesperson.

Men's Parallel Bars Finals
10:01 Do male gymnasts wear cups?

10:10 I'm trying really hard to be happy for Uzbekistan's Anton Fokin, as he is now the first Uzbeki to ever medal in a gymnastics event. But all I keep thinking is that his name sounds a lot like the F word. If I was the editor of the Uzbeki-equivalent of the New York Post, tomorrow's head line would be: So Fokin Good!

Women's 400 Meter dash finals
10:38 Go go go Sanya Richards!
10:38:30
Well that was disappointing. Better luck next time Sanya.

Women's 100 Meter hurdles
10:48 Whose job is it to have a flag ready for medal winners to drape themselves with? That seems like it'd be a pretty stressful job to be able to quickly identify the flag of the winners.

10:55 As I'm watching Lolo Jones, favorite to win the Women's 100 meter hurdles, cry because she hit a hurdle and lost, I can't help but notice how similar athletic event cameramen are to paparazzi. I feel like I'm not supposed to see this.

Women's Balance Beam
10:52 Whoever does the Chinese women's team makeup has truly done these young women a disservice by lining their eyes in electric blue. It doesn't match their uniforms, and it certainly doesn't compliment their skintone.

10:55 The announcers are so passive aggressive about the scoring. How many ways can they insinuate that the judges are stupid? If I was drinking to (rather than blogging about) the Olympics, all I'd have to do to get drunk is take a shot each time Elfie Schlegel says something disparaging about the judging.

11:06 Shawn Johnson is a little elf of a girl. I mean seriously:11:27 Wow, the announcers are really overly excited about the Japanese gymnast's fall off the balance beam (thus clinching the gold for the little Iowan elf). These announcers are so in love with little Shawn.

11:31 I am so tired of the Olympics, but I can't turn it off. I feel obligated to keep watching through Bella Karolyi's interview just because his accent is hilarious. I don't know if I can sit through this medals ceremony if Al Trautwig continues to pour on the sentiment so heavily ("Now begins Shawn's dream sequence!").

11:34 The announcers fall silent as the anthem plays. I can only assume it's because they are weeping quietly.

11:44 I guess Bella Karolyi's sideburns never got the memo that 1979 is over.

Men's High Bar Finals
11:49 Just as I was about to go to sleep Dutch gymnast Epke Zonderland busts his ass off the high bar. Yikes!

Alright, I'm done. No amount of Bella Karolyi could lure me to stay up later.

Yikes!

2008-08-19T00:44:00.008-04:00

So I've noticed a pattern in all the Olympic events I've been watching: China is a dominating force in just about everything. At first I thought this was due to the communist-country model of athletic factories which crank out top athletes. And then I thought maybe it was all apart of China's riff on Hitler's plan for the Nazi-Olympics (i.e. prove to the world that your country and people are awesome, concerns about your human rights record be damned). But then I took a closer look at some of the events China for which has been amassing medals:

Archery.

Judo.

Shooting.

Weightlifting.

Wrestling (freestyle and Greco-Roman).

Anything sticking out to you? Because it seems pretty clear to me that China is creating a super-human force of special agent spies !

Or, in the case of the gymnasts, a new cast for Cirque du Soleil.

Don't go there Anderson

2008-08-09T12:35:00.002-04:00

I was going to blog about something ridiculous and make fun of it to much hilarious effect, and then I found this video and figured -- why bother? Anderson Cooper is more than catty enough for the both of us.

Is it just me or...

2008-06-30T11:30:00.008-04:00

Recently, I've been watching more America's Best Dance Crew than should be considered healthy, and have noticed that Lil Mama (singer of my favorite song about lip gloss) is secretly 80 years old.

Exhibit A: Lil Mama's crazy color-coordinated and bedazzled outfits.
Lil Mama is definitely receiving some divine inspiration from a grandma somewhere down in Florida. Or maybe she's just a fan of Maxine from Shoebox cards. Whatever the source, it's clear that Lil Mama likes rhinestones on everything from her baseball cap to her track jacket.

Exhibit B: Lil Mama's often incoherent judgements.
This verbatim judgement is from a recent episode. I assure you that, even in context, this quote is highly incomprehensible.

Um uh I definitely feel that you guys need to rehearse different types of sway. Because um you're opening was great, and that's something that you're used to you know what I mean. Uh wavey fingers and stuff like that -- I don't know what you call it. It was cute. And then and then y'all went into the bounce. You know what I mean. And the bounce was kinda off then y'all caught it. Ya know what I mean? The bounce was really fast and then it went slow. Ya know what I mean? You gotta learn how to bounce in and out of music. [Throws to a slow mo clip of a dancer doing a wind mill] This is what makes you guys so great. When you can have one person doing this, while the rest of you guys are occupying the audience you know what I mean and keeping us entertained. Just make sure that you put that extra stab in the heart of the chicken. You feel me? Do y'all thang.

Exhibit C: She's called Lil Mama, which sounds like a grandma's nickname.

Ladies and gentleman, I rest my case.

Warning: this post includes naked images of Verne Troyer

2008-06-28T19:39:00.009-04:00

I was just perusing through yahoo news clips when I found the following story about Verne Troyer's sex tape. Apparently a judge has put a halt to plans to release the tape as Troyer and his lawyer argue that releasing the 50 minute (!) video, which was supposedly stolen from his house, would case "irreparable damage" to his reputation. I find the notion that a sex tape would do harm to Troyer's reputation quite laughable, as the following scene from the Surreal Life didn't seem to do him too much harm. For those of you who aren't big Surreal Life fans, this 5 minute scene shows a heavily intoxicated Troyer making sex noises and nakedly peeing in the corner of a room. If that won't hurt you, I can't imagine how a sex tape would.

Leisurely Saturday Morning Run

2008-06-07T14:30:00.003-04:00

This morning I woke up and went for a run along the East River. Here is a list of some of the things I saw:

Several ducks swimming
Middle aged men fishing and displaying a great deal of Puerto Rican pride
Members of many Yorkville little league teams
Police recovering a dead body
Lots of floating trash

Drugs R Bad

2008-06-02T22:17:00.003-04:00

Today I strayed from my usual route to school and ended up having an intriguing conversation with a gentleman addled by drug addiction and tooth decay. Below is a short excerpt from our long (and almost unintelligible) conversation"

Toothless Crack(meth?)head: Are you Spanish?
Me: (flattered to be mistaken for anything other than white) No.
TCH: Oh. You look Spanish. You look like my dad.
Me: What?
TCH: You look like my dad. He's Spanish. You know Andre the Giant?
Me: Yeah.
TCH: You look like him. You look like him. (trails off into a long monologue about the wrestling exploits of Andre the Giant)
Me: Oh. Interesting.
TCH: You know Elizabeth Taylor?
Me: (Hopeful that TCH will compare me to an attractive woman as opposed to a wrestler) Yes I know of her.
TCH: She was married to Macho Man Sanchez. You look like him. And you know what? You look like her, too (points to 14 year old Latina waiting at the bus). And like my dad. And like my mom. And like Andre. And Macho Man.
Me: Thank you.
TCH: You got a dollar?

Prophesies and Pancakes

2008-05-28T06:10:00.002-04:00

Two weird quotes from two weird kids:

Quote 1 from a conversation (more a monologue) with a little girl during recess.
"I found this ball. It's fun! And my mom gave me pancakes this morning. And she did buttah on them. IT WAS DELICIOUS!!!" (You have to imagine a little girl holding a ball that's almost bigger than her. And the statement in all caps was shouted in the manner of a muppet. Also, she wouldn't let me respond before running away.)

Quote 2, proffered by a little boy in the middle of my social studies lesson on needs and wants and healthy eating.
"Shoot, who cares if you eat healthy. We're all going to die! We're all going to die when Jesus comes."

And the real shows are....

2008-04-28T05:52:00.004-04:00

Show 1: REAL
This show is currently in production and it's called My Fair Lady. The premise is that Donald Trump (of all people) is going to be the arbiter of taste and class for the tramps. I'm undecided as to whether or not that is as confusing an idea as having Kathy Hilton act as role model for class.
Fifteen women who "party hard" (they party hard but are NOT Flava of Love contestants) are sent to live in a boarding school-like environment where they will learn about self-improvement and female-empowerment to turn from tramps to ladies.

Show 2: REAL
This show is supposedly in production, and I hope to God it's true because I would definitely watch this show. I'd have to stop watching, though, if the kids never actually changed and were just like Nicole & Paris on the Simple Life.
Former stars of My Super Sweet Sixteen are sent to live with indigenous tribes in faraway countries.

Show 3: FAKE
Six prisoners at a minimum security prison agree to be placed in solitary confinement and undergo mental and physical challenges in an attempt to win $150,000.

Show 4: REAL
This show was called Who's your daddy? and aired (surprise!) on Fox.
An adopted woman is introduced to eight men who may or may not be her biological father. The girl must correctly choose her father to win a $100,000 prize.

Show 5: REAL
This show is called Celebra Cadabra, and was the inspiration for this entire post. When I saw the first episode I was so confused as to why it would exist that I actually had to look up the show online to make sure it wasn't just some kind of prank.
Seven celebrities team with seven professional magicians and compete in magical challenges. The winning team wins $100,000.

Show 6: FAKE
Ten celebrities learn the tricks of the paparazzi trade and attempt to take the best shot each week. The celebrity who survives the competition wins $250,000.

Show 7: REAL
This was a British show, but it was featured on some Vh1 clip show. It was called There's something about Miriam, and the more I consider each show's premise the more I become convinced that this is the most despicable show. However, it is not the most potentially boring; that honor is reserved for Celebra Cadabra, which despite my aversion have managed to see 3 times already.
A group of men compete for the heart of a woman in a Bachelorette-esque dating show. Unbeknownst to the men, the object of their affections is a post-operative transexual who has only recently become a woman.

I need your help so I can impress Meredith with my wit

2008-04-28T01:33:00.007-04:00

I am going to be auditioning to be on Who Wants to be a Millionaire this Wednesday. Note that this isn't as impressive as it sounds. You could -- and should -- apply to audition yourself! But I have to answer all these questions about myself, presumably to be used for 2 minutes of witty banter with Meredith Viera. The problem is: I don't have any clue what to say. I have lots of funny things I would like to say, but I don't think any of them are appropriate for national television. So, with many thanks to Emily for the idea, I have decided to turn to the internet for help. Below, I have written in bold the questions I need to answer. I have a few ideas for what I might say for each question, but I'm really depending on you (my friend, or complete stranger) to help me decide what I should say.

Thanks!

Quirks, rituals, superstitions…What makes you unique?
... I am always the person to mention a significant other to a person who JUST broke up.
... I wear my backpack so it looks like I'm pregnant so I can use it as a pillow.
... I fall a lot.
... I am very, very, very messy.

What is one thing you do that makes people laugh?
... People always laugh when I retell the story of how I was once accused of having no ass by a homeless man.
... My students always laugh when I press their reset button to make them less grumpy (I poke them in the back of the head and make a funny noise). It's not funny to adults, but it's pretty popular with small kids.
... I make fun of myself.

If you could vote yourself as best-_____ or most-likely-to_____, what would be your vote?
... Most likely to inappropriately fall asleep in a public place.
... Best person you'll ever meet. EVER.
... Most indignant.
... Most likely to use google to win an argument.
... Most likely to emasculate you.

What do you do for fun?
... I don't have fun.
... I run. It's not actually that much fun, but at least it rhymes.
... I stay up late watching trashy Vh1 shows and writing a blog.
... mock children.
... kill mice.
... abuse substances.
... call in sick when I'm not sick at all.
... bake/ fill my apartment with carbon monoxide.

You’d never believe it but I once…
... almost got arrested for a drug violation at a national park.
... I dressed up as your mom for Halloween.
... was the assistant producer to the Miss Georgia and Miss Teen Georgia pageants.
... I decided to become a teacher despite a healthy distaste for children.
... incited a street fight with a man named Zeke.
... won a Filipino beauty pageant.

This Book Makes Gossip Girls Look Like Literature

2008-04-21T21:26:00.002-04:00

This is NOT a book I will be buying for my classroom anytime soon:

This book is about what a child should expect after his or her mom undergoes plastic surgery.

What reality do these shows come from?

2008-04-21T00:59:00.005-04:00

To say that reality television is ridiculous is to waste your breath preaching to the choir. Just about everyone would agree with that point. Recently, however, I have noticed that reality television shows have become even more ridiculous than usual. To prove my point, I have written a description of 7 reality shows below. Five of the descriptions are for shows that are in production or have already aired. Two of the descriptions are for fictional shows that I made up. See if you can figure out which of the descriptions are for an actual show.

Show 1
Fifteen women who "party hard" (they party hard but are NOT Flava of Love contestants) are sent to live in a boarding school-like environment where they will learn about self-improvement and female-empowerment to turn from tramps to ladies.

Show 2
Former stars of My Super Sweet Sixteen are sent to live with indigenous tribes in faraway countries.

Show 3
Six prisoners at a minimum security prison agree to be placed in solitary confinement and undergo mental and physical challenges in an attempt to win $150,000.

Show 4
An adopted woman is introduced to eight men who may or may not be her biological father. The girl must correctly choose her father to win a $100,000 prize.

Show 5
Seven celebrities team with seven professional magicians and compete in magical challenges. The winning team wins $100,000.

Show 6
Ten celebrities learn the tricks of the paparazzi trade and attempt to take the best shot each week. The celebrity who survives the competition wins $250,000.

Show 7
A group of men compete for the heart of a woman in a Bachelorette-esque dating show. Unbeknownst to the men, the object of their affections is a post-operative transexual who has only recently become a woman.

Miss Pronuciation

2008-04-06T16:08:00.006-04:00

When I first came to my school there was already a Mr. M and a Ms. M at my school so I figured I would just make my kids call me by full name. After all, I planned to learn how to pronounce their names so they should learn to pronounce mine. After six months, many of my kids and co-workers still do not have any clue how to pronounce my name. At first is was humorous when students would want to say hi to me in the hallways and they couldn't get past the initial consonant. Now, it's just vexing. Below is a list of my more favorite mispronunciations.

Macaraira
Macanamairah
Micknuhmaruh
Mackinack
Macnair
Micknair
Mactamaira

Jesus Christ

2008-04-01T18:25:00.003-04:00

Today we visited the school library for the first time since February 10th. The school librarian is a very interesting lady with many strong religious convictions which she tries to discuss with students as often as possible. Apparently, a teacher can discuss religion as long as a child brings it up. I gathered this during the Christmas season when the librarian excitedly insisted that I chart the phrase "Jesus' birthday" on the class brainstorm list for Christmas symbols once a student had voiced it. Today she was very, very eager to talk about all the holidays that took place in March (EASTER) and spent a good bit of time trying to get my kids to say either the words "Easter" or "Jesus" so she could legitimately discuss the ascension of Christ. I think that if I had been out of the room she would've stooped to a question like, "rhymes with beezus" to get them to say it. Unfortunately for the librarian, my students (and perhaps most first grade students in public school) don't understand that Easter means anything beyond pastel wrapped candy.

Kid's Poems

2008-03-28T00:00:00.005-04:00

I'm currently reading my students' poetry, and was compelled to share their masterpieces. They have been asked to write poems about their feelings, about fruit (grapes and oranges), and an acrostic poem about themselves. Hopefully these poems are enjoyable to someone who doesn't know these kids, because otherwise this entire post will have been a waste of time.

Untitled
Cassandra is good at math
And good at reading.
And I am smart at number
And ABCD too.
And I now how to spell Sunday.
~ Cassandra

Quarters
I get
Quarters
When I am good
I get
Quarters
When I am
Excellent
I get quarters
When I ask
~ Cassandra

Janneurys is
Always hear in time
No boty is better than him
Next he don't fight
Every boty lovs him
Up to lern all day
Redin he is good
You will love him
Sometimes he be bad
~ Janneurys

Brian!
I feel exsided when people
Are my friend
I feel [worried]
When I am alon
In the darck
I feel frightened
When ther is a
Spoockee noees
I bend my body
When I am sad
~ Brian

I like GRAPE
Look like a circle
Look like a fac
it is a sphere
it a red baby
like a eye
Feels like basball
Feels a somkelshy [squishy]
like a bananana
is rand like a
ball
feels hard lik pentbl [pebble]
~ Tais

Bipolar Coaster

2008-03-27T19:17:00.015-04:00

Today was a classic example of the numerous emotional highs and lows I experience during any given weekday. I was somewhat inspired by those lame feelings poster I saw in the school social worker's office. Enjoy the peek into my day.

7:45 am: Anxious
Lack of planning from last night (combined with the coffee I had to drink to combat sleep deprivation) makes me nervous.

9:10 am: Cautious
During a reading assessment, a student completely shut down while I asked him about the book he had just read which I know will piss him off for the rest of the day. And he's a hitter. Crap.

9:35 am: Hopeful
Lesson plan on putting line breaks into poetry seems to have FINALLY convinced students to stop putting periods in their poems.

9:55 am: Frustrated
The hitter gets into a fight, leaving me no choice but to take him during gym time (my break).

10:15 am: Angry
Meeting with the assistant principal about her observation of my teaching last week is off to rocky start when she tells me I lack any management skills. This coming from a woman who never taught a grade lower than 6th. And from a woman who has been in my room 4 times other than the observation (each time to check bulletin boards).

11:00 am Smug
After faking my way through a plausible reading lesson, my assistant principal enters the room and engages in a conversation with a student during work time that leads the student to hysterically cry and run around the room as the principal follows her yelling (which by the way, I don't lead this child to do). Ha ha you old bag, shows you what you know about little kids.

11:02 am Enraged
As the girl sobs loudly at her desk the Assistant Principal informs me that her "private" conversation with the child has sufficiently calmed the child and that I should employ such tactics to maintain control of my class. Then she leaves. Yeah, thanks for that.

12:20 pm Depressed
During lunch time I cry for about 20 minutes.

2:50 pm Happy
Aboubacar grows 3 levels in reading after showing 0 growth from September to January. THANK GOD!

3:50 pm Ecstatic
My lowest students stay till 4:45 today. Whereas last week they were out of control, this week I have them on lock down and they actually seemed to understand my lesson on plural words.

5:20 pm Exhausted
My last student is finally picked up. God I am tired.

10:30 pm Overwhelmed
I can't believe I have to do this all over again tomorrow.

Just joined twitter

2008-03-22T23:06:00.003-04:00

So as you probably know, I don't write posts that often. This is due to many reasons, none of which are going to resolve themselves any time soon. Since the entire reason I maintain this blog to any degree is to provide friends with an update on my life, I figured I'd just join twitter. You can find out what I'm doing (most likely, what I'm thinking or doing immediately after school) by looking at the twitter updates here on the blog or following my twitter page.
P.S. This entire move was inspired mostly by watching the following video "Twitter in Plain English" I'm sharing the video here so you may become similarly inspired, and then join Twitter so we can mundanely stalk each other.

A Very Sexy Time for Politics

2008-03-18T23:07:00.005-04:00

I have heard enough (which is to say, I have heard at all) about governors who like prostitutes, governors who cheat, and secretly gay governors who openly like threesomes. I'm not letting the next sex scandal catch me off guard. Rather, I'm going to pull a Nostradamus and predict some in advance. That way, I won't be as dismayed when I have to hear about them. Onto the sex scandal headlines of the future:
Governor Barbour Admits Furry Affair
Utah State Senator Davis Says He Likes to Play Baby
Congressman Poe Caught in Giantess Roleplay

And, perhaps most shocking of all:
Secretary Schafer Announces Preference for Monogamous Sex With Wife

*** Sidenote: Ironically enough, I had originally intended to fill the above name slot with Secretary Kempthorne . However, upon a very cursory google search I discovered that he may not enjoy monogamous sex with his wife. I guess it really is shocking for a politician to bang only his wife.

Tubbs is Delusional

2008-03-02T17:07:00.005-05:00

A while ago, for reasons I can no longer recall, I was googling Phillip Michael Thomas (aka the dude who played Tubbs on Miami Vice). My search led me to IMDB and to one of the most ridiculous biographies I have ever read. It was so ridiculous that I felt it necessary to share it with you. Here are some excerpts from the biography, followed with my interpretation of the BS:

"... before landing the role in 1984 that made him a household name - and took him on a whirlwind tour of the globe and into the presence of heads of state (including President Ronald Reagan and Nelson Mandela), fellow celebrities, and countless adoring fans."

translation: He shook hands with a few presidents and got invited to a few parties.

"Despite world-wide stardom as an actor of both stage and screen, it is music that is PMT's biggest passion. One long-time friend recently referred to the musical side of PMT as "an undiscovered diamond.""

translation: His acting is subpar, and so he prefers to focus on music. Unfortunately, his music isn't that great, which is why the only positive review to be found is an uncredited quote from a friend.

"... PMT released two highly regarded albums: Livin' the Book of My Life (1985) and Somebody (1988), both on his own Starship Records label, with distribution by industry giant Atlantic Records. Although much loved by fans to this day, his albums didn't sell as well as expected (perhaps due to a wide range of musical styles that defied pigeonhole) and remain out of print, although they often fetch a tidy sum on eBay."

translation: These albums sucked, and only hold a kitsch appeal.

"PMT loves Florida and has chosen to make his home there instead of L.A. or New York as do most of his colleagues. Naturally, this keeps him out of the limelight, but it's a mistake to assume that just because his name isn't regularly splashed across the tabloids that he's not keeping himself busy."

translation: PMT is keeping himself busy reliving the glory days of a television show that has been off the air for nearly 20 years.

Yikes!

2008-02-01T18:19:00.000-05:00

Today, at about 2'oclock pm, there was a shooting within 30 yards of my school.

Babelfish Telephone Game

2008-01-29T23:29:00.000-05:00

Due to the high concentration of Spanish-speaking students in my class (and, as a corollary, the number of parents who speak only Spanish), I have been reduced to depths not seen since I was in high school. That's right, I'm using babelfish to translate phrases for me. The shoddy translations I am no doubt receiving from this website have inspired me to play a telephone game of sorts. I'll translate the message over and over from one language to another to see how the site perverts the message from one language to another.

Original message:
Your child may not pass the first grade.
English-->Spanish-->French-->German-->English
Result:
Its child cannot ignore the first degree.

Original message:
We are learning about matter in our new science unit.
English-->Spanish-->Portugese-->French-->Greek-->English
Result:
We in learn in the matter in in our new unit of science.

Original message:
Please practice counting to one hundred with your child.
English-->Russian-->Korean-->English
Result:
In order to produce 100 when in the thing your child and you acquire a specialty.

Original message:
Please sign and return this form.
English-->Korean -->Spanish-->French-->Dutch-->English
Result:
This sample and elasticity in the manner.

Original message:
Your child has been absent for several days.
English-->Greek-->French-->Portugese-->Russian-->Japanese-->Chinese-->English
Final message:
Your child is the absence to many days.

Original message:
Please contact me.
English-->Japanese-->French-->Greek-->Dutch-->English
Final message:
Comuniqj!ese with have. [The exclamation mark appeared somewhere between Greek and Dutch]

Weighing the Consequences

2008-01-23T22:50:00.000-05:00

Which is the more selfish action?
To abandon my job and leave my kids to a series of substitutes OR
to stay in my job, but become embittered to the point of apathy?

I'm very unlikely to quit (the job openings in my required salary range are relatively slim). However, given the attitude of the other first grade teachers (and my rapidly decreasing patience), the second option seems almost inevitable. What would you do?

The best commercial EVER

2008-01-21T10:22:00.000-05:00

Ever since I moved to New York, I have had a song stuck in my head. That song, of course, is the reggaeton optimum cable ad. I have no idea how it happened, since I dislike reggaeton, but this ad has me hypnotized. Not only does the song stay with you, but the entire production -- from the pirates to the man dressed as a sea monster, is ridiculous. After discovering a large number of videos featuring people singing 877-393-4448 on Youtube, I know I'm not alone. So come on mi gente, watch this ad.

Here's another reggaeton ad, but this one is completely in Spanish.

Dream Deferred

2008-01-20T15:22:00.000-05:00

Last week my kids went to the school library where the school librarian taught them about Martin Luther King. Our school librarian grew up in the segregated south so she tried to explain to my students what segregation was like. She talked about how inadequate her education had been.She explained that black people weren't allowed to go to school with white people. She explained that the kids at her school didn't have enough materials, and that all their books were old and broken.

There are no white students in my school. Though the school does get newish text books, the school does lack many supplies and materials. Right now I'm teaching a geometry unit without the benefit of enough block shapes to teach my students about 3-D figures. My students with special needs (language difficulties, ESL, emotional difficulties) never get the services to which they are legally entitled. A week in which my students receive even 45 minutes of ESL instruction is a miracle. But my school isn't even that bad: we received a B+ grade on the NYC quality review.

How do you explain the importance of the civil rights movement to six year olds if some things haven't changed significantly?

Where did they find these people?

2008-01-07T23:13:00.000-05:00

Recently I have found myself saying things like "I hate my job" and "Teaching is killing my soul" etc., etc. I want to assure you that this sentiment is in no way related to my feelings toward my students. By and large, my kids are good mini, semi-developed people. When they do bad things, many times they can't help it because they are just kids.

In fact, the reason that teaching has created a blackhole of despair within my heart is due to the many borderline retarded adults that I must deal with on a daily basis. These people have no excuse for their bad acts. Let me introduce you to the cast of characters a la a Parent-teacher conference note home (meaning a positive and a "delta" comment):

Guidance Counselor: Well-meaning older woman who has trouble stringing together a coherent sentence and following clear and written directions. She excels at discussing students' family life ("Did you know Child is getting evicted?") and learning difficulties ("He's supposed to be in the third grade but he's real low") in a loud whisper in front of the class. She struggles with correctly pronouncing the names of the students she "counsels;" guiding students; counseling students.

Assistant Principal: A superficial woman who smiles like she's running for mayor of Shiteatingrinsburg, especially when she chastises you. She excels at talking about herself, faking interest in you and your students, and inventing useless tasks that sap time and energy without benefiting students. She struggles with caring about anything in your classroom beyond what goes on a bulletin board. We have this fun game called "Who's the boss?" in which she makes me wonder who my boss is because she always goes through a third party (rather than come to me herself) to explain her expectations or when she thinks I've failed to meet them. There's another fun game we play in which she tells me I'm late to dismiss my students even though her watch is 5 minutes fast.

Payroll Secretary: A ball-buster who struggles only with being friendly and treating people she has known for less than 5 years with even the slightest shred of respect usually afforded to a fellow human being. She enjoys talking on her cell phone, rolling her eyes whenever I speak to her, and hanging up on me when I call the office.

School Nurse: I have no idea who this person is. I'm serious. I've only ever seen the school nurse once and I can barely remember if it's a she or a he. What I do know, however, is that the school nurse is a kind of mythical creature that is rarely in its office. When it is at school, it refuses to see students during its lunch break (which doesn't correspond to any of the kids' lunch breaks). Note that when I say "refuse" I mean that it will not even ask a child about his ailment before shutting the door in his face. Today it turned away an asthmatic student complaining of difficulty breathing because it was on its lunch break.

4 Ws

2008-01-03T22:43:00.001-05:00

Who hired that little girl from the Texas Instruments DLP ads?
In case you don't watch many TI ads, let me inform you: a little girl and an elephant travel around telling people about the superior picture quality of DLP and the girl talks about mirrors. At least she would talk about mirrors if she was able to pronounce the word. I am so sick of hearing that little girl exclaim "It's the meers!" Listen girlie, mirror has two syllables and if you don't pronounce both you're just talking about an African rodent.

What does "explosive diarrhea" mean?
Is there a form of non-explosive diarrhea?

Why does Vh1 insist on trying to ruin my faith in humanity?
Between Rock of Love2 and Celebrity Rehab with Dr. Drew I find it hard to imagine a bright future for society.

When will people realize that children + zippers = disaster?
Small children lack the manual dexterity and problem solving skills to fix a broken zipper, and I lack the patience to fix a zipper dilemma EVERY day. Down with zippers & up with snap button coats!

What I Like About Teaching

2007-12-30T21:07:00.000-05:00

It's 9:00pm on a Sunday, and it's about this time every week when I begin to dread the coming school week. As much fun as it is to sit and stew in my despair over my job teaching, I figured it wasn't a very productive or mentally healthy exercise. Besides, I only have 60 hours left of my vacation and I'll be damned if I'm spending them moping about going back to school. So without further ado, a list of things I actually enjoy about teaching:

The vacation time. It's frequent, and it's lengthy. Also, I get 10 sick days.
Being the smartest person in the room. It's hard not to be the smartest person in the room when you are surrounded by small children, but still it's a nice feeling. Me and the Pope have an infallibility thing going on.
The pity/admiration you receive from others. I've never had a job that is so positively received. Most people say kind things about my choice of profession, though mostly people say things like "Wow, that sounds hard."
Being able to completely understand everything that my favorite student says, event hough he speaks in broken English AND has a speech delay. Seriously, it's an accomplishment.
The off-the-charts cuteness factor. I still prefer puppies to human young, but my students are pretty cute.
My students are so gullible that I generally only have to talk in an excited tone to get them to be excited too.
My approval really means something to my students. Disappointing me is an awful feeling, or so I gather.
My students are so little that just about any activity is educational. Seriously -- even doing crafts with cutting is a useful activity as it helps students build their fine motor skills.
My students are excited to learn. When I say, "You are wasting your own learning time" they get upset.
My students are genuinely good kids. One of my kids choked a student, and 3 other students jumped into the fray to stop the fight. All of my students are eager to help each other -- almost to a fault.

Finally, Something Funny Happened

2007-12-21T21:08:00.001-05:00

Scene:
3:45, afternoon dismissal line on the blacktop.
female student in pigtails: "My mom told me tadpoles go here!" [grabs crotch]
teacher: "What??"
female student in pigtails: "My mom said tadpoles go in here!!" [repeat crotch grab]
Stunned teacher thinks about what the hell this could mean while trying to maintain her composure. Why would a mother tell her daughter that frogs go inside vaginas??
teacher:"Ohhhh. Did your mom tell you where babies come from?"
female student in pigtails: "YES!" (smiles then clasps hand over mouth)
teacher: "Okay, great. Keep that to yourself."

That's Jive Turkey

2007-12-02T16:27:00.000-05:00

I live in the most expensive city in the United States. I knew this before I moved here, but every now and then I will be blown away by the prices here. A few weeks ago I wandered into an Eli Zabar's market (the Vinegar Factory) looking for some deli meat. I wanted to buy 1 pound of turkey meat. Guess how much it cost:

a) $12
b) $22
c) $9
d) $18

If you guessed b ($22) you'd be right. That's right, for one pound of turkey meat, The Vinegar Factory expected me to pay $22. Say WHAT? Admittedly, any Eli's establishment is synonymous with overpriced, so even setting foot in the store was a bad choice on my part from the outset. Nonetheless, charging $22 for some regular honey smoked turkey is crazy. It wasn't organic, free-range, injected with diamonds, wrapped in gold leaf or anything like that. I guess this is what I get for living on the Upper East Side where a $70,000 income household is slumming it.

The F Word

2007-11-30T22:40:00.000-05:00

Six year olds are sponges for knowledge. Some times (most times?) the knowledge they absorb is of a questionable nature. Exhibit A: One of my young pupils has learned the F word. In her excitement over knowing such an illicit phrase, she likes to write this word whenever she's given a chance. I can only assume that the F word that she has learned is F*ck, but it's hard to tell since all she ever writes is FNK. I don't know what bothers me more: either the fact that this kid wants to write the F word all over the place, or that she continuously fails to sound the word out correctly as I have taught her to do when she wants to write a word she doesn't know how to spell. Next time someone gets out of their seat to tell me about this little girl writing the F word, I had better see a U after the F.

Newsflash: Talking is Important to Teaching

2007-11-09T21:23:00.000-05:00

I have laryngitis and cannot speak above a whisper. Yesterday, despite my condition, I decided I would try to teach my first graders. BIG MISTAKE. None of my students could hear me so they all started fooling around and stopped paying attention. Because I couldn't speak louder than a whisper, I couldn't convey an angry or firm tone -- everything just sounded like I was telling them a secret, which apparently is not scary enough to merit their respect. I started banging on things and shaking a jar full of marbles to get their attention. It was pretty pathetic. My voice got worse and I had to go home. Lesson learned: If I can't talk, I can't teach.

Creepy

2007-11-04T12:11:00.000-05:00

I got an email from Victoria's Secret letting me know that I could save 25% off underwear from them. Here's the picture that came with the email... anything look creepily middle-schoolish about this girl? Or am the only one who thinks the model probably hasn't reached menarche? She has no discernible breasts, her face has baby fat, and she's wearing an outfit a tiny child would wear. I think this girl could pass for a 6th grader. Even if she is over the age of 12, she's not particularly pretty. Get your act together Victoria's Secret -- find some attractive, 18 year old+ models.

Well This is Embarassing

2007-10-28T20:42:00.000-04:00

At the beginning of August I was sitting in Washington Square Park eating lunch. A bunch of college-aged intern kids with a camera came up to me and my friends and asked to tell them what we thought smelled bad. They were creating some internet based advertisement for Febreeze. I told them I thought my boyfriend smelled. Then I forgot that it ever happened, until a week ago. Check it out -- I'm on the internet. The picture of me on this site is pretty terrible, and the ad (which you can find on facebook) does nothing to help my case (nor the case for my boyfriend...). On a positive note, the kids producing the ad seemed to think I'm in college, so at least I don't look as old as I feel. And in case you work for Febreeze, you should know that I did not sign a release form (check your records). I would be willing to overlook the whole thing in exchange for a few cases of Febreeze.

Substitute bamma

2007-10-17T19:51:00.000-04:00

I took my first ever sick day on Tuesday because I needed a break. It was pretty stressful because I spent a lot of time meticulously preparing a substitute packet that included my classroom rules and procedures, lesson plans for each of the 6 content areas my children study, and all the materials necessary to execute those plans. I was at school until 8 pm on Monday getting all of these things ready for the substitute the next day.

The woman who subbed for me yesterday is a retired teacher who is scary as all hell. She is 5'3", has short, blonde hair that sticks up in odd points all around her head and thick cataracts that make her eyes look blue. She looks like a witch and she is mean. She hangs around the school going to classrooms and scaring children into submission by berating them (which you should note is completely different than making them cry). I told her all about the plans I left for her, and she told me she'd teach them.

Today when I got to school I found all of my careful plans and materials completely untouched. The students workbooks were empty, and the homework I had prepared had not been distributed. I have no idea what the hell that teacher taught yesterday but I could rip her eyes out for not teaching what I left for her. What the fuck is the point of having someone stand in your place if they won't even do what you've left for them to do? I asked around and heard that the sub definitely had my kids "in check" (meaning she screamed at them a lot). I might as well have told all the kids not to come to school yesterday if all they were going to do was get yelled at by some crazy witch woman.

That's why Ms. Patterson is the bamma of the week. She pretty much ruined my day off because I had to spend so much time the day before preparing for it, and I even spent a lot of time planning my lessons for today. I'd post a picture of her here but I wouldn't want to scare you. Just imagine a 75 year old black woman with Lisa Simpson's hair cut and no soul.

Long time no blog

2007-10-17T00:26:00.001-04:00

So, it turns out that teaching is incredibly time consuming. I have like a million things to say, but no time to say them. Here are some quick points...

* Cavemen the sitcom isn't as bad as it sounds.
* The weather in NYC has been beautiful.
* I baked this past weekend to keep my apartment warm and almost poisoned myself with carbon monoxide.
* I had 16 students at the end of September. I had 18 students at the end of the Columbus day week, and now I have 19 students. Any other 6 year olds feel like randomly joining my class? No seriously, I want more students because once I hit 20 students my class will be the same size as every other first grade class. That means that the office will stop automatically sending me all the new kids off the street.
* My next door neighbor Kylie gave me clothes and a pair of shoes and I'm indebted to her for helping to upgrade my wardrobe from awful to passable.
* I spend all my money on my class and on food, and I'm worried I won't be able to pay my rent (again).
* Sometimes, I wish more than anything that I could speak Spanish.
* That song about sweaters from the Old Navy commercial is stuck in my head.

I have some writing pieces from my students that I want to share so stay tuned for that.

Your secret's safe with me

2007-09-28T22:58:00.000-04:00

I finally found my cell phone -- I had cleverly hidden it under my sofa. As soon as I turned it on I had a mysterious text message from a 301 number that I didn't recognize. It read:

"Yo tonight if andrew ends up hooking up with natalia dont say anything ok?"

I'm pretty certain that I got that text message from a stranger who miss-typed since I don't recognize the number. I have no idea who either Andrew or Natalia is, but I can not -- nay, will not -- stay silent about their possible tryst. Hear that world, these two knocked the boots. That'll teach you to trust me with your secrets anonymous texter.

Bad Day

2007-09-25T19:22:00.000-04:00

I have been teaching for exactly four weeks. It has been a very long four weeks. I had a very long day, and I have 3 more days ahead of me. I miss my old my life.
Here's a list of all the things I miss about my old life:

* having a two day weekend where I do no work on either day
* having a relatively easy job
* having a car (I've been lugging supplies to and from school every day on a bus and the subway)
* enjoying the end of the summer and the fall
* being able to watch Nats games on TV, and not just when they're playing the Mets
* being close to my family
* having any time to myself
* feeling like I can successfully do my job
* fractured prune donuts
* having time and energy to run
* my cell phone (I lost it somewhere)

September is a very hard time for new teachers. Particularly teachers with no training or affinity for children. Today is just a bad day, and it will get better. I just wish I could fast forward to that time where it will be better so I could stop struggling through every day until then. I'm only writing this so that when I get to that magical and easy time I can look back and laugh (or, more likely, be thankful that it's over).

What are you doing New Year's Eve?

2007-09-13T01:00:00.000-04:00

NYC is giving 2 days off for Rosh Hashannah this year! I don't know why we get off 2 days, but I choose not to question that which gives me a 4 day weekend. Happy New Year!! I plan to ring in the year 5768 by catching up on sleep and not yelling at children.

No Britney

2007-09-09T21:03:00.000-04:00

I am so busy right now I barely have time to attend to my basic needs. However, after watching Britney Spears perform at the VMA awards (yes I'm watching the VMA, and no I am NOT in middle school) I had to come online to say that she is a complete mess. I may have had a mediocre week teaching and I'm not fully prepared for the week ahead, but at least I am not Britney Spears.

First Day of School

2007-09-04T22:41:00.001-04:00

Today was my first time in first grade since I was a first grader. It's not as easy or as fun to be on the other side of the rocking chair.

On a scale of one to five, one being "I'm going to pretend like this whole day never happened, and quit" and five being "Teaching is so inspiring I can't wait to do it for the rest of my life!!", I would rank my feelings about today as a solid 2.5. No one threw anything, no one fought, and there was only one child who cried. All in all, a respectable first day effort. The only downside is that I have to do this same thing all over again 180 more times.

The Exciting World of Clothespins (or pegs)

2007-08-31T02:51:00.000-04:00

I'm up trying to create something for my classroom that will require clothespins. However, I don't have any, and want to know how much they cost. So, I searched for "clothespins" on google which returned with this wiki link to an unusually long article and this link on sadomasochism as the top two hits, respectively. Now I know a lot about what happened to the American clothespin industry in 1978 and the proper way to apply a clothespin to one's scrotum, but I'm still in the dark about how much a bag of clothespins costs.

Calendar Craziness

2007-08-27T16:24:00.000-04:00

In 8 days I will become an official first grade teacher. I just got home and was using Edhelper.com (a pay website that helps teachers make worksheets and all sorts of stuff) to make a calendar for the first month of school. Edhelper is obsessed with fake holidays (like National Butterscotch Pudding day) and had suggested that I put a picture for each of these fake holidays into my calendar. Since I am not a fan of fake holidays, I had just been mindlessly refusing all of Edhelper's suggestions. And then I started taking a closer look at their suggested graphics, which are awesomely mystifying. Check out some of these examples:

"Children's Good Manners Month"
Suggested graphics include two children talking; a person taking child's pose; two bees talking, the sinking of the Titanic; and telephone operators at a switch board. Yep, that's children's good manners in a nutshell.

Grandparents Day

In case you couldn't tell, that first graphic is a small child opening her front door to find a polar bear. I guess the polar bear is supposed to be her grandparent? Or maybe the polar bear comes because she didn't celebrate?

Hollywood Magic Day/Childhood Cancer Month
First of all, these two "celebrations" are a little too disparate for me to feel comfortable with their grouping. I mean seriously, one is the title of an Access Hollywood segment, and the other is a tragedy. But, Edhelper does what it wants. That's why it has suggested three graphics that seem to be unrelated to Hollywood, magic, cancer and any combination of these terms.

Triumphant Return of B.O.W.

2007-08-21T08:56:00.000-04:00

Technically these bammas pissed me off last week, but since I have only recently discovered "Eatmyballs" I could only bitch about them now. The Bamma of the Week are the Port Authority employees who work at the Holland Tunnel.

Let me begin by saying that trying to enter NYC from New Jersey is torture. It doesn't matter whether you've chosen a bridge or tunnel, either way the view sucks, the traffic is almost completely at a standstill and it costs a lot of money. This is an infuriating situation even in my tiny Sentra, so I knew I was in for trouble when I would be trying to accomplish this feat in a 16' long Budget truck.

After much deliberation, it was decided we would take the Holland Tunnel. The back up for the Holland Tunnel began about a mile before the toll. It took us 90 minutes to move that entire mile, which means that we got to hear "Big Girls Don't Cry" like 5 times. Awesome.

As we pulled up to the toll, the toll lady informed us that trucks were not allowed in the Holland Tunnel. The entire 90 minutes we had been waiting to get to the toll there had been absolutely no indication that such a restriction existed. In fact, there were signs that actually said that trucks had to pay $6 and up at the toll booth, thus indicating that some trucks were allowed. As an added bonus, the Port Authority police officers were completely unhelpful in directing us to the Lincoln Tunnel (which FYI, is your best bet from NJ to NY truck travel), simply saying "Follow that van there." "That van" by the way was just some van that was also being rerouted. Seriously officer -- you can't even give me the name of a goddamned road? A highway number? A cardinal direction? ANYTHING that will be constant and that doesn't include trying to follow some strangers in a van who may or may not be going to the same place?

In the end, we got the truck to New York. It took an extra two hours, and we ended up in Hackensack briefly, but we did it. And we did it with zero help from the ignorant Bammas at Port Authority.

Back From the Internet Dead Care of Some Testicles

2007-08-21T00:21:00.000-04:00

I have been pretty incommunicado with the blog (and the world) the in the weeks since institute finished because I've been trying to rebuild my self-confidence and work on my sleep deficit. Also, I didn't really have a reliable computer while I was home, or an internet connection since I moved to NYC. Then I found an unprotected wireless network named "Eatmyballs." So this, and all of my posts until Time Warner comes to give me internet access will be brought to you courtesy of "Eatmyballs."

Having the internet has really brightened my life recently because until Sunday I had only an am/fm radio in the way of electronic entertainment. This, combined with the fact that all I've been doing recently is cleaning and cooking, was making me feel like some sort of 1930s era housefrau (assuming of course that a 1930s era housefrau listened to Hot 97.1 all the time). Thanks "Eatmyballs" -- you've made my life brighter by allowing me to control how many times I have to hear the song "My Girl Got a Girlfriend."

The Way We Were (sucked)

2007-08-07T14:01:00.000-04:00

I've been trying to get all my belongings organized and packed. This has primarily entailed throwing away a lot of things and also cringing at all the things I've been holding on to since middle school. Apparently, everything I did between the ages of 12 and 19 was mortifyingly ridiculous. I've been reading over my yearbooks and the messages are hilarious little time-capsules that transport me right back to high school. To let you all experience a bit of that time travel fun, I'm rewriting verbatim some of the messages my friends left for me in my freshman and sophomore yearbooks. I'm not including any names, but rest assured that the messages I'm publishing here are from people with whom I have remained friends.

"One day this portion of the page will be worth much money. Save it always -- for after I make lots of money when my Iran-Contra magazine/boy band show empire brings me a lifetime's worth of fame and fortune and controversy this will be a collector's item! Have a good summer and K.I.T." ~ Sophomore year

"Upon your insistence I'll make ct quick. Although you've been a bitch (kidding) it was a good year. I hope next year you will forget the things I said this year. Maybe you'll get with that dude or maybe you'll kill him. Either way it'll be funny. With all of my love... well not all of it." ~ Freshman year

"Jorge is funny because he makes fun of you. But we all know that your not a whore your a slut you don't charge. Just kidding. (I'm apologizing out of fear that you'll beat me up). Well anyways, it's been a very fun year (for me). But I have enjoyed your company in chemistry. I'm glad I've gotten to know you better this year (I wish I would have known you better last year). See you next year." ~ Sophomore year

Class is in Session

2007-07-28T15:37:00.000-04:00

On Thursday, the following things occurred in my class. Some of these things I noticed, others I did not. Feel free to guess which things floated under the radar:
* A student yelled shut-up
* A student took off his shirt and threw the shirt at another student
* A student, upon receiving a worksheet on rounding numbers, looked at me and said "I can't do this" and then sat with her head on her desk, unresponsive to either me or her classmates, for 15 minutes
* A student interrupted my instruction to let me know her cell phone was ringing
* A camp counselor for the camp that is housed at my school came into the classroom and began yelling at a student
* 7 students were chewing gum

Turning into my third grade teacher...

2007-07-24T22:36:00.000-04:00

The past few weeks I've been saying a lot of typical "teacher" things. I want to list some of the more blatant examples of phrases and statements that have come out of my mouth, but which I have obviously channeled from my third grade teacher Ms. Souder (she was a tough lady).

"It is no one's job but the teacher's to reprimand another student. When you call out to tell on a student for calling out, now YOU are causing a disturbance."

"I'm taking this marker away because you have not showed me that you can handle using it yet."

"I should hear no talking."

"Your job in this classroom is to work hard and help yourself grow academically. If someone is bothering you, you need to ignore them and focus on yourself."

"That's a warning."

"Open your books. Now."

"Why are you out of your seat?"

I'm listing these phrases just so that I can remind myself that everyday I am an authority figure. I have to remind myself here on this blog because it doesn't feel that way in the classroom.

Gooooooood Morning

2007-07-23T05:51:00.000-04:00

It is not even 6 o'clock in the morning yet, and I'm dressed and ready to go. Because it is so early (and because the days get shorter) now when I wake up it is completely dark. I cannot imagine how hard it will be to wake up in December when I will be hours rather than minutes away from sunlight. Here's a picture of sunrise in NYC -- the view from my Craptown U dorm is considerably less inspiring.

In desperate need of a brightside

2007-07-18T23:17:00.000-04:00

I have slept for, maybe, a total of 8-9 hours since Sunday. And it's not looking as if I'm going to add much to that total for the rest of the week.

Today on the way to school, I sat in a steamy and uncomfortable bus as our bus driver tried his best to navigate the bus through literally 6 inches+ of running water thanks to a torrential downpour. There was zero visibility and the bus driver had to keep getting up from his seat to wipe the fog off the windshield so he could see. Nothing like the intense fear that you may die to wake you up in the morning.

For the bazillionth time in a row, it feels as if I'm having to plan a new lesson that has nothing to do with the lesson I had originally planned.

On top of this, today I found out that my class has 6 students who either need to pass the reading or the math state exam to become 6th graders. This means that everything I teach needs to help them or they're repeating the fifth grade in the fall. No pressure!!

On the brightside, yesterday I signed a lease for a 2 bedroom apt on the Upper East Side, literally steps away from Kylie. Woohoo! I have a place to live that is far, far away from Craptown U.

One Week of Teaching down...

2007-07-14T19:49:00.000-04:00

After my first week in the classroom, here are my stats:

135: minutes spent teaching writing
130: dollars spent at Staples on school supplies
96: high temperature on Monday
approx. 35: minutes spent crying
18: number of students on the roster
18: number of students I'm excited and hopeful to see each day
14: hours slept between Monday and Friday
13: number of students who regularly attend class
10: hours spent commuting on a non-airconditioned bus between Kingsbridge, Bronx and Jamaica, Queens
6: the grade my students will be entering in the fall
5:45 am: the time I wake up every day
3: number of objectives I attempted to teach
1.5: number of objectives students mastered
0: number of friends I've seen or spoken to this week who are not in TFA

I am half-way done with my time at Craptown U, and 3 weeks away from being done with in-tense-titute. Wish me luck!

Belated Bammas of the Week

2007-07-12T22:59:00.001-04:00

Sorry that I snoozed on the Bamma of the Week last time. I have too little energy and mental capacity to give a full bamma of the week award (sorry!) so I'm just going to list a few of the things that have made this week almost unbearable:

working in a "collaborative" with people who don't like to collaborate

being cited for professional conduct concerns (long story)

having to run up and down 6 flights of stairs trying to find an unlocked women's bathroom in an elementary school

staples employees who won't let you buy more than 10 folders at once

My Favorite Subject

2007-07-10T01:42:00.000-04:00

Today we administered surveys asking students to answer questions about themselves. We asked students about their favorite school subject. One student answered that his favorite subject was, "School breakfast. They feed us burritos and yogurt." Who doesn't love the burrito-yogurt combo? Maybe I'll try some when I get up in 4 hours.

Celebrity Pregnancy (1) World News (0)

2007-07-08T03:22:00.000-04:00

I have very, very limited access to TV and radio in the dorms, and my internet is pretty spotty. And even if I wanted to buy a newspaper I wouldn't have much time to read it. This leaves me with literally NO idea of what is going on outside of Craptown U. The past two days I've tried to educate myself bit by bit. Today, as I waited in a station I perused the newstand and found out that Nicole Richie is pregnant. And on Friday night I read all of the newsfeeds displayed on the NewsCorp building, and learned that some chica in Cali has P.Hil's old phone number. Apparently, there may or may not have been some terrorist activity somewhere in the world, but I didn't see much coverage on that. Someone please let me know if a war breaks out or something, because unless it happens on the bus I ride to school every day, I won't know about it.

True Excitement

2007-07-03T21:39:00.000-04:00

In what I'm certain will be the first of many repetitive brightsides, this week I'm thankful for sleeping in. Tomorrow is July 4th, which means no school. This means I get to sleep in -- till 6:45 am! On top of that, I get the afternoon off. Party (without guests or alcohol)!!! Despite my seeming overuse of exclamation marks, I assure you that I am 100% serious about this.

Wake up Call

2007-07-01T22:02:00.000-04:00

At my program, we are going to be bussed to different schools all over NYC to begin teaching summer school. These buses leave at 3 different times: 6:45 am (theoretically doable), 6:25 am (sounds awful), 6:05 am (should be defined as torture by the Geneva Conventions). Obviously, I was really hoping that I'd be assigned to a school whose bus left at 6:45 am, and even more obviously, that isn't the case. For the next 5 weeks, every day I will be up at 5:00 am to ready myself for a day of teaching and to gurantee I don't miss my 6:05 am bus. Even worse, of the 10 people I live with, only 2 other people have to wake up for the early buses.

Whoever assigned me to this 6:05 am bus has more than earned the award for the Bamma of the Week. I am not merely giving out this B.o.W. because I think it will be annoying to have to wake up early, rather the person who assigned me this ungodly bus departure time has earned their B.o.W. because of their insensitive and thoughtless action. I, as well as anyone who will have to interact with me at any time between 5 and 9 am, will suffer as a direct result of this bus departure time. This is because I have a nearly clinical-level problem waking up early. (Obviously, I am a bamma for deciding to leave a job where I could breeze into the office every day at 10 am and pursue a job as a teacher where I'd have to be at work by 8 am, but that's not the point here).

I understand that there are a lot of people out there who can wake themselves up, but I am not one of them. I have an alarm clock designed for deaf people (it has a vibrating pad that you can put underneath your pillow), and it still doesn't wake me up. In fact, I burned out the vibrating pad because I would just sleep through it. Anyone who has ever lived with me has, at some point, had to wake me up. And when I say "some point" I mean every single day they would have to wake me up because I would inevitably sleeping through an alarm. Even as a child I didn't wake up easily: my dad had to pick up and shake my mattress for me to get out of bed when I was in elementary school. In high school I had problems consistently waking before 7 am, which was a huge problem since school began at 7:25 and I lived 30 minutes away. I'm hoping my body can adapt to a 10-5 sleep schedule easily, but I predict it's going to be a rough transition from my preferred 1-8 schedule. I pray for everyone who is going to have to deal with me in my cranky, zombie state until my body adjusts. Except, of course, for that Anonymous TFA Institute worker -- they can go to hell.

Crazy on the Outside

2007-06-30T23:58:00.000-04:00

In the past few days, I've begun exploring my new home. One of the most striking things I've noticed is that New Yorkers seem incapable of silent displeasure. If a New Yorker is angry or annoyed you are going to know it. For example, on Wednesday I witnessed an older woman tell a bus driver to drop dead for refusing to take pennies as payment. Later, during my entrapment in the bowels of the F train tunnels in Queens, a young man got up and started pacing and screaming about how much he wanted to get home and how nobody better mess with him on his way to the bus. Then of course there's the honking, so oft accompanied by yelling, that is so integral to the driving experience in NYC. This is a city of 9 million people who wear their anger on their sleeves (they all look like this guy).

Coming from DC where talking on public transit is reserved for naive tourists and obnoxious teenagers, I'm a bit taken aback. Of course, people get angry everywhere but I think that in NYC people are a little bit closer to their public outburst threshold than they are in other cities. I wonder if I am I going to turn into a screamer who cannot control her rage? Until I become one of these crazy, angry, self-talking New Yorkers, I miss the relatively quiet citizenry of DC.

F Train Debacle

2007-06-28T02:57:00.001-04:00

It's been a loooong night. Read more about it here. Sorry I'm being lazy and not writing a separate post just for MacNamerica, but it can be tiring to be The Mayor of two different blogs.

I Hope That Saying About First Being Worst Isn't True...

2007-06-26T23:10:00.000-04:00

I'm currently living on a college campus in New York to begin the training necessary for my new teaching career. I've been reliving the first few days of the Freshman year of college: meeting dozens of people whose names I forget almost instantly and forgetting what everyone looks like once they change clothes. I've probably asked "Where are you from?" and "What will you be teaching?" 1,000 times in the last 3 days. All these "polite" (read largely uninteresting) conversations are sucking the soul out of me. I haven't had to make friends in a long time, and I forgot how labor intenstive it is. I am so tired all the time, and I haven't even begun the hard part (teaching) yet.

On the brightside, I finally have a little bit of certainty. Though I've known for months where I will be teaching in the fall, I only found out today what I will be teaching: I am going to be a first grade teacher (!). I'm particularly excited about being a first grade teacher because it guarantees me immortality. About 20 years from now, my last name will probably serve as the answer to an online banking security question for one of my students. More importantly, I will live on in perpetuity in class photos, so that even when I'm old and bitter, my young and bitter self will exist in the memories of my students. Right now, at this late hour, this teaching assignment makes me happy because I can finally be able to tell all these other future teachers what grade I'm going to teach and manage to stretch these polite convos 10 seconds longer.

Bamma of the Week

2007-06-23T21:14:00.001-04:00

Though normally I find morning commute radio shows to be evidence that there is evil on Earth, I do enjoy the Donnie Simpson show on WPGC 95.5. Huggy Lowdown is definitely the best part of the show. Mr. Lowdown, amongst many other bits, gives a weekly award to the "Bamma of the Week." Since I'm moving and will no longer be able to hear Huggy's weekly award, I thought I should give out my own weekly Bamma award. For those of you unfamiliar with the word "bamma", let me enlighten you. A bamma is a classless fool who is generally ignorant of their obvious failings. Also, it's anyone (or anything) who pisses me off.

So, with that in mind, I would like to award the inaugural "Bamma of the Week." Early in the week I thought I might be giving this ignominious honor to the highest bidder for the post-jail Paris Hilton interview. Once those deals fell through, my week was looking suprisingly Bamma-less. But then on Friday night, a new contender came out of no where to run away with the win. This contender is none other than the Anonymous Jerkface who threw up in the Union Station metro on Friday night.

I have no idea who Anonymous Jerkface is -- the only evidence I have that they even existed is the slippery puddle of vomit they deposited on the Union Station metro floor. Man or woman, child or adult, this Anonymous Jerkface wins my "Bamma of the Week" award because I slipped and fell in their puke. That's right, I got covered in someone else's puke. In case you've never taken in a spill in throw up, let me assure you that such an experience iis neither a fun end to an evening, nor an enjoyable prelude to a ride on public transit. I firmly believe that I wouldn't have fallen were it not for Anon. Jerkface's puke, and I'm damn sure I wouldn't have been soaked with half-digested food if Anon. Jerkface had managed to get to a trash can before hurling. In conclusion, Anon. Jerkface is the Bamma of the Week for not being able to responsibly monitor either their alcohol intake or their barf output. I've pasted below a picture of what I imagine the Jerkface looked like:

On the brightside...

2007-06-22T15:16:00.000-04:00

In the coming weeks and months, I will probably be going crazy trying to live in a new city and trying to teach. I imagine I will be going crazy at times, and that it will probably be worthwhile to reflect on some of the better things that are going on in my life. Let me start that positivism today.

At first I thought that smug dude from Dodgeball in the Apple ads was annoying. However, I just bought a new MacBook, so now I know that Macs are awesome. Macs are so much more fun than PCs -- it was extremely easy to set up and it came with a lot of cool applications. Plus, I got a free Ipod when I bought my MacBook because I'm (going to be) a teacher. Thanks MacBook for making the past few days so fun, even if means I've spent a lot of time alone playing with Big Bang Board Games and ComicLife, it was still time well spent. Check out this comic I made about the Going Away Party I had this past weekend:

Things to do in DC if you're bored

2007-06-22T11:02:00.000-04:00

The past few months I've been running around trying to do some cool (and cheap) things in and around DC before I have to relocate. Below is a selection of some of the highlights in this town.

Neighborhood Heritage Trails
Cultural tourism DC created a series of self-guided tours throughout various nabes in DC. I've been on 4 of these trails, and some are really sucky (NEVER go to SW DC if you can help it, it looks like a concrete truck threw up). However, some are really cool. The best one I've been on so far is the tour through the Capitol Hill area near the Marine barracks. You get to see where John Phillip Sousa was born! I guess that doesn't sound that exciting in print.

George Washington Crap
I don't know if you've ever noticed this or not, but the USA is pretty much obsessed with George Washington. I don't know enough about history to either agree or disagree with that sentiment, but I have been to a lot of the things around this area that celebrate ol' G-dubs. First and foremost, I used to give tours of the Capitol where they have the Apotheosis of Washington -- a painting depicting Washington's ascent to heaven. I think it's a creepy painting that makes George look like a lady. Just down the street is the Washington Monument. It's pretty tall, but it's not that great. It took a long time to get to the top, and when I finally got there I was surrounded by children and fat people. It was like my nightmare. If you want a view of DC from above, you should probably either just look out the window on flights to and from National, or go to the top of the .

The best GW place in this area is his home in Virginia, Mount Vernon. There have been a lot of changes since you last visited (elementary school?). Most notably, they have an interactive movie experience where you sit in a theatre and they shake your seat and then throw fake snow at you to simulate the crossing of the Delaware. It's kind of like being to Disney world, but with much shorter lines and slightly more attempts to shrug off slave ownership. Also, they have an old-timey distillery.

Gardens
There's a lot of stuff growing in DC, and most of it is pretty. Obviously there are the Cherry Blossoms around the Tidal Basin, as feted by the Cherry Blossom Festival. But there's also the National Arboretum, which has beautiful Azaleas. They also have an herb garden and a bunch of columns in the middle of a field -- can't go wrong there! There's also the conservatory at theBotanical Gardens. This place is awesome because you can visit in the middle of winter and they will still have beautiful orchids. You can also see that gross-ass flower that smells like a corpse and looks like the Audrey II's reproductive organs.

However, my absolute favorite gardens in DC can be found at the Franciscan Monastery in NE near Brookland. The gardens outside the monastery may lack a variety of foliage, however, they are definitely more quiet and serene than the other gardens. No kids or tourists (or anyone for that matter) there. As an added bonus, you can take a tour of the church at the monastery and view recreations of the Holy Land sites and the catacombs in Rome. Down in the catacombs you can see the bones of St. Innocence and mosaics of skeletons. It's definitely a unique experience. By "unique" I mean curious and at times downright eerie for someone who was not raised in a faith advocating the worship of Saints let alone their body parts.

Busy Blogging Bee

2007-06-16T01:28:00.000-04:00

I'm about to go through some big changes in my life -- moving to a new city, moving in with the boyf, and beginning a new, time-intensive career. But I'm not going to let any of these changes, nor the mental breakdown they may cause, deter me from getting back into blogging shape. From here on out, I'm going to post at least three times a week. That's right, I'm setting great goals for myself: MORE time on the Internet. I cannot promise that any of these posts will be in-depth but they should be long enough to distract you for about 5 minutes while you're at work, which I do believe is the point of reading blogs. Check in later this week to see the new posts I'll be writing.

You read it here first!

2007-04-13T21:12:00.000-04:00

Back in January 2006 I predicted that Lauren Conrad (aka "LC" from The Hills and Laguna Beach fame aka waste of flesh and her daddy's credit card) would star in a home made sex tape. Lo (remember Lo?) and behold, a little over a year later I come to find that an LC sex tape may actually exist! Supposedly, this sex tape stars LC and her male counterpart in being a waste of humanity, Jason Wahl. I still believe, as I stated earlier, that such a tape would reveal that LC is just as boring when being filmed naked using an infrared camera as she is when being filmed clothed in the daylight. Even a sex tape couldn't make this girl worth watching. Also, Jason looks like a fatty and I don't want to see him without his shirt off. In conclusion, I am shocked and horrified that such a video may exist, and scared that I predicted it would surface. Does that mean that pandas are really Chinese spies??

Lay off the kid

2007-04-11T15:20:00.000-04:00

For the past four weeks I have been bombarded via newspaper, television, the Internet, and even my beloved NPR, all about Sanjaya Malakar. Though I generally hate most people on television, I bear absolutely no ill will towards this adolescent boy. I don't like him nor have I voted for him, but all this attention is a little overblown. Everyone has an opinion about how awful this kid is, as if the future of American Idol, as well as all pop music -- and perhaps even all humanity -- is inextricably bound with Sanjaya's success on this show. What's the big deal?

Sure he's not the best singer -- but who cares? Haley Scarnato isn't a good singer, but no one is all up in arms that she's made it this far. And that red-headed kid that sucked so bad 3 years ago made it to the top 6, but I don't remember there being an entire movement against him. And really, aren't there tons of successful singers out there who are just as bad as Sanjaya? Where was this ire when Paris Hilton released her album? And why is Akon allowed impunity? His music should not be on the radio but rather kept behind a pharmacy counter and sold as an emetic. And yet none of these rabid Sanjaya haters -- not even that fat lady who refused to eat until he lost -- are so angry at anyone else who is a musician who sucks.

With 8 weeks to go, it's a little premature to worry that Sanjaya's going to win this contest. Successful or not, no AI winner thus far has been a notably bad singer so just calm down and trust in the AI voting system (probably a better bet than trusting your local government's system...). I know he sucks, but you only have to listen to him sing for 5 minutes each week, and that's only if you choose to watch the show. Plus he's so helpless -- he's like a 3 legged bunny or some equally nonthreatening rodent. How can you get so mad at an effeminate teenage boy? So, if you're calling into NPR to spew bile about Sanjaya, or you're writing a diatribe about him you need to just chill. If you want to know about a real threat to America, read a nerd-cum-dating coach blog.

DC Slogan Suggestions

2007-04-05T19:27:00.000-04:00

So I'm a bit late with this news, but I figured it was worth talking about anyway: Washington D.C. is looking for a new slogan so as to rebrand itself and increase tourism. In order to rebrand the city, the DC government has hired an ad agency who in turn is inviting Washingtonians to "share their DC". As a 4th generation Washingtonian with a blog, I feel like it is my duty to suggest a few new slogans. Note that when I describe myself as a "Washingtonian" I do mean that I have only ever lived in the MD suburbs, but that's good enough. Far better, than say, living in NoVa where a bunch of slave-lovers took back the land they had originally given for the creation of the federal city. But this post is about Washington slogans (not why NoVa sucks) so let me proceed.

A slogan's supposed to encourage tourism and pride, and, if it's really good, make reference to a well known fact about the state (click here for a list of state slogans). For example, DC should aspire to get a slogan like Idaho's: "Great Potatoes. Tasty Destinations." That slogan makes me think for a second that it might be okay to at least drive through Idaho -- and I would've never considered that before.

DC's current slogans are abysmal. "Taxation without Representation" is a complaint, not a slogan. And, on top of that, it's unoriginal. DC might as well print "We're whiny and haven't come up with anything clever since 1776" on its license plates. "Celebrate and Discover" is just a meaningless phrase that makes DC sound as boring as Connecticut ("Full of Surprises") or Ohio ("So Much to Discover"). And having never been to either of those places I can safely say that their slogans trying to trick you into visiting haven't worked, so I don't see why a trick slogan for DC would work either. And finally, "The American Experience" doesn't even make sense. I'm not certain what the "American Experience" is, but I'm fairly certain that you couldn't fully experience America if you only visited DC. I mean, DC isn't even that fat -- so it can't be that American.

Stand on the right, walk on the left.
This slogan tells people the right way to ride an escalator, and also makes subtle reference to politics. I love this slogan, because we as a city need to provide more instructions to the Triple Fs (FBI-shirt wearers, fanny packers, and fat-asses) that the city is trying to entice. As a corollary, the WMATA slogan should be "So easy that a dead person could use it. If you can't use it, kill yourself."

Cheap & Clean
True statements, and important qualities when looking for a city to visit. As a bonus, this is also a pretty good slogan for a prostitute or young intern -- each being popular weekend activities for certain politicos.

As smart as it is pretty. This slogan gets at two of the the cities most striking characteristics: its highly intelligent citizenry (their love of Marion Barry notwithstanding), and it's beautiful architecture and foliage. It's close to what the slogan of most government officials should be (Smarter than they are pretty). I also like that it compares beauty and smarts, because I feel that DC is the cute brunette of cities. It's not flashy or fun like a Blond (New York), but it's pretty smart and can show you a relatively good time.

Where hope and optimism come to get jaded.
Have you ever seen the Simpson's episode where Lisa goes to Washington DC for a speech contest? That's what this slogan is all about. It may not be that catchy, but I bet there are more than a few Cap Hill staffers who can attest to this fact.

The city with a penis.
I think this picture speaks for itself.

Okay DC, I've given you some slogans. Now it's your turn to take these bits of genius, print them on tee-shirts, and then send me a check.

Hip hop is dead

2007-04-01T22:48:00.000-04:00

Nas was so right.

exhibit A
The president's top advisor (literally the man) dances and raps. It is obviously the first time he has ever heard rap music in his life, though possibly the second or third time he has tried to dance.

This video reminds me of every eye-rolling authority figure who ever tried to use rap to get me to do something in elementary school -- like learn multiplication tables or wear safety belts. All of those raps always contained the words "hey there kids I'm mc [insert lame mc name here] and I'm here to say/that [insert positive health behavior/message about stranger safety here] is the only way." Alternate endings includes "best in the USA" or "will save the day."

exhibit B
The turbo tax rap ad contest. This is a contest that offers cash prizes to the best home-made rap video about turbo tax. That's right, the art form that has been used by some to describe political and social strife is now being used to hock tax software. You should definitely peruse the tax raps because they are pretty pathetic. One exception being my friend's entry (entry 282) which you should vote for! A few of the really bad ones...

entry 2 consists of a woman proving that both rap AND feminism are dead.
entry 19 two words come to mind: awwwwww yeah! These are also the only two words that apparently came to the rapper's mind as well.
entry 77 needs a babysitter.
entry 141 does an impression of rob schneider's xerox guy character while harrassing strangers .
entry 233 is just a baby sitting in a chair.
entry 305 is a little kid rapping. He is better than the Ying Yang Twins (not saying much).
entry 365 is a dog frolicking to a falsetto voice-over.

All growed up

2007-03-07T00:54:00.000-05:00

Have you heard that Charlotte Church is expecting a baby? Wasn't she just 12 years old and singing church hymns? My my my how time flies. Char ain't the only one growing up -- I am also growing older (though she is the only one of us who is pregnant). I recently just had a momentous birthday -- 24 on the 24th! I've officially entered my mid-twenties. So far reaching this milestone hasn't made much of a difference in my life other than that I think this means that I officially have "adult" acne. There has been little change for me because even before I turned 24 I had been acting like a woman well beyond my years. Hence the disappointment of being a lame old person is tempered by the fact that I was so lame to begin with. For example...

... I clip coupons. Neither like nor love are strong enough words to describe how I feel about coupon-clipping. Coupon-clipping is generally the happiest 20 minutes of my week. I like looking for good deals on products I usually buy. A dollar off Lean Cuisine? AWESOME. And I love trying out new products. Huggies diapers? I don't really need them but for $5 off, why not? I check the weekly circulars to see where the best deals are and I rarely buy anything that's full price. Grocery shopping is a long and relaxing trip for me as I compare prices and check coupon expiration dates. I saved over $600 on my groceries last year, and yes I'm extremely proud of that.

... I really like flossing. At age 8, almost nothing could convince me to brush my teeth let alone floss them. (On a completely unrelated note, I have a mouth full of cavity-riddled teeth that are probably one strong gust of wind away from falling out of my head.) At age 24 flossing is one of the only things I do daily and I really love it. Now I'm guessing that many of you do not floss as often as I do, and I'm basing this primarily upon the Mitch Hedburg joke that quitting smoking is as difficult as starting flossing. Is it fair to assume that you have the same personal hygiene as a hilarious comedian(RIP)?

... I'm saving for my retirement. Woohoo, I have saved $1400 towards my retirement. That should be more than enough money to live out my retirement dream: living in a house in Miami that I will share with three other older women. One will be funny and mannish, one short and Italian, and the other one will be dumb and Midwestern. I will be southern and slutty. I'm working on my accent now.

... I prefer practical gifts. When you're a kid, anything that isn't a toy is a lame-ass gift. I would spend months circling and marking every toy catalog that passed through the doors of my home so that I could make sure I got exactly what I wanted, which was usually something pink and plastic. Again, on a completely related note my parents' house is filled with kids' toys and other assorted crap. Now, I don't want things that are frivolous or fun -- I want things that I need or would have otherwise bought for myself. This year for my birthday I asked for such exciting presents as magazine subscriptions, snow boots, history text books, bed sheets and a wallet. Ooooh.... Ahhh...

I'm a huge loser

2007-03-01T22:29:00.000-05:00

It's true, I'm a loser. And it's not because I live with my parents, or because I spend too much time on the Internet or because I don't go out -- though these certainly qualify me as a loser. No, I am a huge loser because I have a problem keeping track of all my personal belongings. I have lost both my wallet and my cell phone twice in the last 12 months-and this is just the latest in a lifelong trend of losiness. I have lost my passport while abroad. I lost my student ID so many times while in college that I almost had to change my actual ID number as I had nearly exhausted the total possible number of barcode combinations the school could create for SS number. (I also lost my dignity pretty frequently during college -- thanks Everclear!) I lost my contact lenses and tickets to Disney World on the same trip in fifth grade. The following story of woe and idiocy is the most recent incident of my losiness:

Recently I was in New York City, headed from the upper east side downtown near Penn Station to catch a bus home at 4:30 pm. Since I had been procrastinating (another loser tendency) and it was already 3:50 pm, so I decided to take a taxi. This taxi got caught in traffic (stress building) and was taking a while to get to my destination. At 4:20 we were still about 15 blocks away from my bus (almost drowning in my anxiety) when a cop pulled us over (my head explodes). Apparently the driver hadn't signaled while changing lanes -- and this is illegal, in New York?? Unfortunately I had no time to ponder this mystery because I had 10 minutes to get to my bus. I pay the driver and jump out of the cab. As I'm exiting, one of the police officers immediately hails me a new cab and I'm back on my way (anxiety subsides slightly, as does my anger at the NYPD). Not even a minute into my new taxi cab ride do I realize that I am no longer in possession of my wallet (I feel like I've been kicked in the lungs) which has the cash I need to have in order to board my bus and to pay the cab driver. It also has various other necessities like my ATM card and my license and my credit cards. The driver turns the taxi around but by the time we return to spot where I was picked up, my first taxi and the police are gone. And so is my wallet. This is the point in my story where I begin hyperventilating and focusing most of my energy on suppressing the urge to cry and/or vomit. My mom helps me get a busride home and it turns out that the NYPD has my wallet (I'm still calling them to figure out how to get it back).

Well luckily for me I have a lot of friends and family members on whom I can depend when I inevitably misplace something incredibly important. So thanks to everyone in the past week (and the past 24 years) who has helped me get my shit together when I couldn't manage to do it myself. I know it must be annoying to have to help me so much (and to have to listen to my dumb stories about always losing stuff) but I really, really appreciate you for it

Mardi Gras!

2007-02-27T22:10:00.000-05:00

So what if Mardi Gras was over a week ago -- laissez les bon temps roulez, et aussi les blogs. I just recently returned from a trip to Mardi Gras and as a Mardi Gras virgin and a yankee, there were a few things that I found quite unsettling at first. But I learned the rules, and I wanted to share them in case any other yankee M-G virgins were planning a trip to New Orleans for next year (which you should, because it's fun). Yeah that's right, I am so uptight that I've developed rules for correctly celebrating a holiday of debauchery. Essentially, you just need to be laid back. But if you are the opposite of laid back, read on. And even if you are laid back, read on because what else are you doing right now.

BEADS ARE BETTER THAN GOLD!
So many awesome things get thrown from parade floats (and then later thrown from Bourbon street balconies). Things like beads, stuffed animals, plastic cups, potato chips, plastic coins, spears, foot balls -- a veritable fortune in cheap, mass-produced goods. But you're going to want those throws, and you're going to want them more than you could possibly imagine. If you really want these things, you'll need to keep your shirt down though, because the parades are NOT for boobs. Smile and yell and wave and jump for whatever is in the air. Also, do not stand next to a kid because you're going to feel like an ass if you catch a toy and you don't give it to the kid standing next to you. If you want to show your boobs, go down to Bourbon. And if you do make sure you pull your shirt up high enough to cover your face because there are cameras everywhere. And if you don't get anything, make yourself better by knowing that Mardi Gras treasures are just Ash Wednesday's trash.

Children are seemingly in grave danger, but no one worries about it so neither should you.
When you're near the parades, beads and other projectiles fly through the air. Most people over the age of 15 (and all people over the age of 21) are wasted and like to jump to catch beads. And mixed seamlessly into this scene are tiny children. But don't worry about them -- they're safe from being trampled because they are sitting on the top of 5 and 6 foot tall step ladders. That's right, they sit at the very top of the ladder where you're not supposed to even put a paint can. Apparently step ladders sold to Nawlinyins need stickers that say "Please for the love of all that is holy, do not put your children on this top step. They could fall And DIE!!!" because the stickers showing a person falling after standing on that step are not explicit enough. And it's doubly concerning because all adults are drunk, so parent supervision is lax. Whatever, kids are bouncy and I didn't see any fall, so don't worry about it.

Parade costumes look like the Ku Klux Klan - just ignore it.
Costumes worn by people on floats look like they were designed by a gay-KKK member who got his hands on a beadazzler. Though I know that there's a lot of racism in the south, the similarities of the costumes to a Klan outfit seems to be purely coincidental. That said, I would like to note here that on Mardi Gras night I definitely did hear at least one white man use the N word. Not in anger mind you, but just as an adjective in place of black or African-American, which I found almost more disturbing.

Just assume that all nudity is good nudity.
Girls Gone Wild is a lie, a big fat lame-excuse-for-pornography lie. The only people I saw exposing their breasts were unattractive women and strippers. The strippers were what you would expect: reasonably attractive, young and trashy. The real variety came in the form of unattractive women baring their breasts. Some just flashed while others had painted their breasts like the American flag or hypnotic swirls. The uglies came in all shapes and sizes -- however none of those sizes were slim or perky. They were older. They were drunk. But people still paid attention to them, and not out of disgust either -- which was purely the source of my interest in them. Also, a large portion of Bourbon Street is filled with homosexual men -- I saw a penis! So if you're a dude and you're hoping to see boobs, know that you're most likely to see old boobs. Also know that you are probably going to be propositioned yourself.

As long as we're making up occupations I want to be a puppy petter

2007-02-15T00:24:00.000-05:00

This young gentleman grew up in the same county as me and even went to my high school (He's the one on the left -- thanks CW for the pic). Even though we went to school together I don't really remember him -- probably because we were each being losers in our own separate ways. So when I first saw him on television on Beauty and the Geek (he didn't win) I only recognized his name. Apparently he is pretty smart and even mildly renowned for being so. Now I don't want to argue that someone who is obviously so much smarter than me is an idiot, but I've been reading too many damn local news stories about him and I can hold my tongue (my keyboard?) no longer: Niels Hoven is a big fat dummy. He was pursuing a Ph.D. in engineering, but then he decided that he'd rather pursue a job more suited to his god-given talents. So obviously he became a dating coach.

I have no idea what a dating coach is, but I am extremely suspicious that it's a fake job. Based on what I've read on Niels' blog, I gather that it entails encouraging gross weirdoes to fight their initial and (generally correct) instincts that females don't want to talk them. Rather than let them stay alone in their labs where they would probably be curing cancer, some one like Niels takes them out into the world and takes their money. In exchange these guys are taught to approach dating like a game, which is always healthy, and to think of women like they're a separate species, also very productive. It also probably involves charging a lot of money just to tell guys that they need to be more confident. As a female -- particularly a female who attracts a lot of weirdoes (I think it's my glasses) -- I don't like the idea of someone encouraging weirdoes to approach more women.

I don't want to begrudge Niels his right to pursue happiness, nor the right of lonely nerds who would seek his services. Indeed, I wouldn't really care about Niels at all were it not for the fact that he doles out awful advice.

Exhibit A: His list of suggestions for Valentine's day. In order to make V-day meaningful, and to avoid spending a ton of money, Niels suggests the following activities:
"Do something playful and have a tickle fight.
Do something emotional and talk about the day you met.
Do something sexy and tie someone up.
Do something impudent and pinch someone’s ass.
Do something romantic and feed each other dinner.
Do something relaxing and give each other massages.
And if you’re single…Do something daring and say “Hi!” to a stranger."

Wow. Each one of these exciting and original suggestions just proves that Niels must be pretty successful with the ladies. Obviously that perfect SAT score has translated fully and easily into the dating realm. I mean seriously -- that's his advice for making Valentine's day more meaningful and less expensive?: Pinch an ass and then give each other massages. That sounded like a romantic day to me, but then I turned 15.

How different would Niels' life have been if he had been on a date before the age of 20? It seems like he's letting his quest to, shall we say, "live life inside the box" distract him from his nerdy and important tasks, such as inventing flying cars and solving the world's energy crisis. Maybe he wouldn't have invented the flying car, but I bet you he wouldn't be advocating tickle fights and writing deluded blogs. Who does he think he is -- DCbachelor?

hiatus over

2007-02-11T22:25:00.000-05:00

So a while ago I decided to stop blogging. It seemed like a good idea given all the reasons I listed in this post as to why I should stop. But then it turned out I didn't use the extra time I had gained socializing with my friends. And then it turned out that some of my far-flung friends missed my blog. And it turned out that I was going to be blogging anyways for The Bathtub so I figured I should start this blog up again. Enjoy!

Let's not call it the end, let's just call it a "hiatus"

2006-07-06T01:13:00.000-04:00

The countdown to July first has come and gone, so I can finally tell you the momentous news that will change not only my life, but yours as well. That news? I'm going to quit blogging. No doubt your entire world has been turned upside down with this news. But hopefully you will be able to survive, since I had warned many of you in advance and because it is just a dumb website.

I originally began this blog as a way to keep in touch with my far-flung friends that I couldn't talk to as often as I liked. But recently a few things occurred to me:
1) I don't really write anything about myself or what's going on in my life on this blog. Yet, I have no desire to begin writing things about myself because I think it'd be creepy for strangers to know anything about me. So how the hell is anyone supposed to know what I'm doing with my life beyond knowing what tv shows I watch? Granted tv is my life partner, but I do occasionally do things apart from it.
2) With the amount of time I spend writing blogs, I could probably have a thirty minute conversation with each of my friends each week. And unfortunately, since I rarely (if ever) write blogs at work, most of this time came straight out of time that could have been otherwise spent socializing, or, more often, sleeping. It might be particularly shocking for some of you to find out I spend a good amount of time working on this blog given the high number of typos found within. And yet, I do proof-read. Go figure.

So I know you must be wondering, "But how will I spend the thirty seconds once a week I used to spend reading your blog?"
Not to worry, I've got you covered with a handy list of suggestions found below:
1) Enter a beauty pageant. Don't waste time on your "talent," just buy a push up bra.
2) Move to Woodbridge. For free!
3) Become Filipino.
4) Google the phrase "Cheese it the Fuzz" and click on my blog so that it can once again be the first site that pops up when you're looking for that phrase. This is a pretty imperative task people.
5) Celebrate March year round by re-treading all your decorations for youth art month, athletic trainer month, social worker month, youth voter month and small press month.
6) Find out why scientists are cool.
7) Have fun with paintbrush graphics. The more pink spray-paint you use, the better the "graphic" will be. The graphic I made for this post was my personal favorite.
8) Start a jihad against Coldstone Creamery. Those bastards will pay for jipping me out of my free birthday ice cream.
9) Read another blog. The list at right is a good start.
10) Practice safe sex and say no to babies-- particularly ugly ones!
11) Make ridiculous predictions about the end of the world and the coming year.
12) Check back here periodically because once every few weeks I will probably cave and rant about something ridiculous. Seriously, it may be difficult to quit now that there is less than one week till Project Runway!! Heidi's already gotten knocked up again in honor of the show.

I would apply, but I don't know if I'm "beautiful" enough

2006-06-30T11:06:00.000-04:00

Check out this posting I found today while looking for a room. I thought it seemed weird that this person was looking for a "beautiful" female roommate since generally attractiveness is a weird qualification to look for in a roommate. Unless of course you are this gross dude.

On the brightside, this man knows how to put verbs and nouns together so as to form comprehensible sentences. Already, he is head and shoulders above the neanderthal couple from Woodbridge! However, he sounds incredibly creepy AND lonely which is a very bad combination. And I find it interesting that he describes both himself and his neighborhood as "safe." Does that mean both he and Pentagon City are STD-free? I don't know why this guy posted an ad on craigslist when he so obviously should have just bought himself a mail-order bride from Russia or Asia. Another important question to ponder: why is it that every time I find a gross posting on craigslisting, it's for a place in Northern Virginia? Coincidence, or proof that NoVa is disgusting?

That's what you get for making a goat your parade leader

2006-06-26T20:02:00.000-04:00

For those of you intrigued by my friend Amanda's comment about a hilarious story regarding a British military goat, here is a working link to this humorous story.
A British regiment that kept the goat as it's mascot "had no choice" but to demote the goat from his ceremonial rank of lance corporal all the way down to fusilier (which is British for private). Apparently the goat was so out of control during the parade held in honor of the Queen's birthday that he shamed his entire regiment. The goat "was trying to headbutt the waist and nether regions of the drummers," and was generally just zig zagging all over the place. Am I the only one who thinks this goat must have made the day of everyone watching what was no doubt an incredibly boring parade? How can a goat trying to headbut a drummer's "nether regions" ruin an event? Come on, Britain -- that's comedy gold! And yet, poor Billy lost his rank for his insubordination.
While I'm sure the goat doesn't care about any of this -- keep in mind this is an animal that thinks an aluminum can makes a good meal -- I bet the soldiers in his regiment are happy. That's because everyone with a lower rank than lance corporal had to salute the goat before his incredible insubordination. And you know that every time they saluted that damn goat they died a little inside In fact, I bet this was all a set up. The drummers probably got poor Billy wasted just so he would end up embarrassing himself.

Rain is so NOT awesome

2006-06-26T00:39:00.000-04:00

Other things that are NOT awesome:
* Finding 2 holes in your basement wall that pour water from the rain-soaked ground and into your basement.

* The drain in your basement that is raised a quarter of an inch off the ground rather than recessed to allow for easy drainage.

* The landlord that repeatedly tells you that you must have failed to remove leaves from the outdoor drain when you tell her that your basement is flooded. And when you tell her about the holes you found in the wall she repeats her concerns about your failure to clear the drain.

* Sprickets that know how to find the high ground when a flood is afoot.

* The sediment that seeps in with the water and muddies the floor.

* The sick-ass water that gets all over you as you try to save your roommate's posessions.

* Your roommate's lack of renter's insurance to cover all the stuff he lost in this mini-flood.

* Getting drunk because you think it's the only way to save the beers you found in the shorted-out fridge in the basement.

* The smell of mildew that will certainly engulf your house in the coming days.

What can I say about your shoes that hasn't already been said about Afghanistan

2006-06-23T01:36:00.000-04:00

Summer's worst contribution, even above and beyond heat and humidity, is that it turns many people into weirdos who think that constant sandal wearing is acceptable behavior. And not just sandals, but UGLY sandals. I get it, it's hot you want to wear less clothing: pants are banished in favor of skirts and shorts, sleeves disappear. But why do normal, attractive shoes have to become extinct till October? Granted, not all sandal-wearing is atrociously wrong -- some of it is acceptable, and even attractive. However, when someone goes wrong with sandals, boy do they really go wrong. Specifically, I am referring to two heinous offenders:

BIRKENSTOCKS
Typical wearer: Ben & Jerry's scoop shop employee-- that is when they can be convinced to put shoes on at all; girls without bras; green party members
Benefits: The shoe molds to your foot and the company will continue to re-tread your sandals for you, so you can walk from here to Poolesville. And for those of you who don't know Phil, yes I do know someone who walked to Poolesville in birkenstocks.
Appropriate outfit: Tie dye. Basically the sort of thing you'd wear to a protest demanding the legalization of marijuana or to a Phish concert.
Inappropriate outfit: Anything you would wear anywhere else.
Statement made: "I like the smell of patchouli, and the feel of hemp clothing against my skin."

I have seen many basic summer outfits ruined needlessly by the haphazard addition of birkenstocks. Wearing birkenstocks makes a statement, and that statement generally is contradicted when you wear your birks with a pair of khaki shorts and a polo. When you do something like that, you're just confusing the rest of us: Are you a prepster with no sense of fashion or a hippie with no soul? Make up your mind, and choose a less-conflicting pair of shoes. Also, regardless of how well you might match your sandals to your outfit, it is NEVER okay to wear bright pink socks with your patent leather sandals and then photograph said monstrosity:

TEVAS
Typical wearer: Small children who enjoy river walking; outdoorsy people who erroneously place comfort above style
Benefits: My roommate has a pair, and apparently they are machine washable. Quite frankly, I wouldn't be shocked to discover these things are dishwasher safe. They are just a mound of rubber with bungee cords attached.
Appropriate outfit: Androgynous hiking outfits. Comfort is clearly the more salient concern when you're tramping through the wildnerness, so your ugly shoes get a pass in this instance. However, tevas should stay on the hiking path. Children also may passably wear tevas, but I am being lenient on them as many lack the comprehension to understand just how ugly tevas really are.
Inappropriate outfit:Any outfit you would wear to wander down from the mountains and onto the streets of our cities.
Statement made: "I hereby abdicate all expectations that anyone will find me attractive. Ever."

Tevas do not look good. Period. They look especially bad, however, on people wearing jeans, or people in gyms (I have now seen three people working out in tevas. What the hell is up with that?)Tevas are supposedly extremely comfortable (I'm operating solely on hearsay as I've never allowed my foot to touch a Teva sandal). But no amount of comfort in the world could outweigh the ugliness of this shoe. Just look at the tanlines on this girl:

Is that what you want for your feet?? And for your viewing displeasure, here is ANOTHER picture of someone wearing bright pink socks with sandals. I swear to God that this person is completely different lost soul from the person in the last pink-sock picture:

Birkenstock and Teva wearers of the world I implore you: stop selling your feet short! Don't punish them with ugly shoes. Instead, take a second to consider how you look to others when you walk out of your house. Realize that attractive, comfortable walking shoes do exist, and then find them, buy them, and love them. Failing that, at least have the decency to put on a pair of flip flops.

A word (or one thousand...) on Britney's anti-paparazzi stance

2006-06-19T17:52:00.000-04:00

If you were rich and famous (thereby making you more powerful than the large majority of the other 6 billion people that live on this planet) and you were going to be interviewed (giving you a platform to try to push a cause or interest near and dear to you heart). What would you talk about?
A) Annoyingly push a liberal agenda, like Ben Affleck (thus giving a bad name to liberals everywhere)
B) Scarily push a pro-gun conservative agenda, like Charlton Heston (thus giving a bad name to Moses-es everywhere)
C) Sexily encourage saving all of Africa, like Brangelina
D) Talk about something REALLY important. Something so crazily unreported that it affects only 100 people in the entire world, causing a nuisance for them on a semi-daily basis – including you as a famous person!

If you said D, chances are you’d be talking about the scourge that is paparazzi stalking. This also means that you and Miss Britney Spears Federline would be great friends. That’s because during Britney’s interview with Matt Lauer last week (p.s. Matt Lauer, did you ever have real journalistic credentials?), poor Britney cried about the paparazzi and all the scrutiny she has suffered since the birth of her baby.

Well boo-f*****g hoo, Britney. It enrages me to no end that someone famous would take the time to complain about the paparazzi. Now, don’t get me wrong. I believe that the paparazzi are obnoxious and use sometimes dangerous –even illegal—tactics to get their pictures. Have you ever had someone repeatedly take your picture at point blank range? It’s awfully annoying, but I still won’t side with whiny celebrities. Why? Because celebrities could change careers and move some place outside of LA and live a comfortable life somewhere else with all the money they have. Being a celebrity means that the paparazzi are going to be interested in you, and paparazzi pictures are a part of being a successful actress/actress/heiress/singer. Sure it may suck if you are a good actress and you enjoy your job, but part of your job is maintaining a certain level of fame. And guess what, you need the paparazzi and entertainment news shows in order to do that. So you could either suck it up and deal with that aspect of your job, or get out of the industry. But please, don’t talk about the paparazzi like they are a societal ill, because inappropriate paparazzi tactics don’t even crack the top one million concerns that face this country today. And how much sense does it make to complain about media attention during the course of a televised interview (aka, media attention)? Isn’t that a little counterproductive: to complain about people caring what you think, say and do while simultaneously encouraging people to better understand what you think, say and do via a fake-news interview?

And I don’t buy that the paparazzi are endangering the health and well-being of Brit’s kid. Quite frankly, it’s probably for the best that the paparazzi follow Britney and little Sean Preston around – at least that ensures that there will be a gainfully employed male-figure in their lives. Seriously Brit should not criticize the paparazzi. She should be on her knees every day thanking the good Lord that they even find her interesting enough to photograph. Because she hasn’t had a hit record in a while and she's fat and ugly (excuse me “pregnant”), so if the paparazzi weren’t photographing her no one would even know what the hell she was doing. All this “scrutiny” that is driving her crazy is the exact reason she continues to be relevant. No one cares anything about her anymore except for that she seems to be addicted to making poor choices. If she doesn’t like people passing judgment on her or taking pictures of her, then she should do something about it!

So Britney, the following suggestions are written especially for you. I've tried to use small declaritive sentences since you seem to be too simple to understand complex ideas (such as the importance of birth control):

1. Move the hell away from Los Angeles.
Fact: A lot of paparazzi live in Los Angeles. Fact: You, Britney, have no job prospects that would seem to require that you live in Los Angeles. Yet, for some reason this fact has not seemed to pass your mind. If a celebrity moves away from Los Angeles or New York and lives in a remote area, like Idaho (Demi Moore) or France (Johnny Depp) the paparazzi won’t follow you. At first they may tag after you, but eventually they’ll go away because it’s not worth it to them to spend money and time to follow just one person. Just enjoy the wealth you have in some sort of backwater neighborhood where you’d fit in. Go back home to Lousiana, or take your new navy manny and live on the Chesapeake Bay. I don’t care where you go, just go there and don’t come back. And if for some reason you want to rekindle the magic of your musical career, just build yourself a studio in your home.

2. Stop going to red-carpet events and parties, and making appearances on television and otherwise trying to keep your name in the press.
If you don't like being famous, then stop trying to be famous. When you go to events where paparazzi are waiting to photograph you, you’re only encouraging them to stalk you by creating publicity for yourself. Plus, you shouldn’t really be painting the town red when you’re pregnant and the mother of an infant. You should probably be doing things like reading the instructions on your car seat, and interviewing new nannies who can promise you they won’t drop your babies. Or, dare I say, interviewing divorce lawyers?

3. Stop having babies.
This suggestion has little to do with avoiding the paparazzi, and more to do with my concern for your pollution of the human gene pool with Federline-Spears babies.

Two things me and president Bush have in common

2006-06-15T04:38:00.000-04:00

I don't know if you heard about this story at all, but President Bush made fun of a reporter who was wearing sunglasses during a press conference in the White House rose garden yesterday. The President joked with the LA times reporter that there was not enough sun to merit wearing the glasses and that maybe it was inappropriate to wear the glass while asking questions. Well, it turns out that the sunglasses-wearing reporter is legally blind and now Bush feels like an ass.

After reading an article about the incident I learned that the president and I have two things in common:

1) Me and G.W.B. are both awkward and likely to make fun of someone for something completely inappropriate, such as disability status.

2) Me and G.W.B. both have very low approval ratings. Nah, just kidding -- my approval ratings are at an all time high, especially for my position on the Iraq war and gas prices, so it's just George who has numbers in the basement. The real uncanny similarity between me and the president is that we both say "touché." (Read through the article).

Finally, being a white woman pays off

2006-06-15T00:00:00.000-04:00

I've been perusing Craigslist recently for possible cheaper places to live as the negotiation with my landlord over next year's rent continues. Apparently she thinks that raising the rent $300 a month would be acceptable. I guess me and my roommates could swing that 11% increase if we all drove Benz convertibles like the landlady, but sadly we are poor so I'm exploring other options just in case. But unfortunately, the rise in interest rates seem to have pushed a lot of the rents in the area to the stratosphere. Just as I was getting ready to beg my parents to let me move back home I found this posting:

To quote that piece of backwards logic woman from that late-night commercial for Focus Factor "If it's free it must be good! " AWESOME! Seriously, these people will let you live in a great and convenient place like Woodbridge, for FREE? I mean wow, Woodbridge, what a great location. It's so close to so many great things like... Potomac Mills? I mean honestly, what kind of catch could there possibly be to this arrangement? After all, these people are white and to my knowledge white people have never done anything bad ever in the history of man. Based on the quality of their post, I'm guessing all they want is grammar and English lessons since their native tongue appears to be caveman. The only hitch is that I don't know if I'm "open-minded" enough to live in Northern Virginia (even if it is dangerously close to real Virginia). If you, like me, are interested in getting more "informations" you better email them, because no doubt this place is going to go quick. (P.S. Sorry to all the males and black women out there who wanted to be a live-in, English tutor for neanderthals in Woodbridge, you are not encouraged to apply. I somehow feel like maybe you are getting the better end of the deal...)

Babies aren't miracles. Finding the $60 you lost in your wallet, however....

2006-06-02T11:37:00.000-04:00

So yada yada yada there's the whole miracle of life, which is in fact pretty impressive and miraculous. The awe and wonder of this miracle of life can get me through 3-5 minutes of sitting near a quiet baby on the metro. But when I sit next to a squealing baby for any amount of time -- let alone the four hours I had to endure on my bus ride home from NYC -- I am not impressed by the biological processes that brought this child into existence. And the whole miracle of birth thing doesn't make me okay with spit-ups, dirty diapers, or breastfeeding either. And I am similarly unimpressed when I'm mowed down by a stroller. In fact I'm downright pissed when it's a double wide stroller, and actually scared when it's four-child stroller like I saw this past weekend at the Bronx zoo. (Seriously, if you have at least 4 children who are too young to walk on their own, you need to look into tubal ligation, NOT a huge stroller. A four kid stroller is not going to solve your fecundity problem.) Parents of the world, if you have a baby, then strap that thing to your back or your stomach. It's easier to get around and you even get to be closer to your little bundle of joy, without having to inconvenience the rest of the world with your unwieldy strollers.

Speaking of inconveniences, I am ticked when I have to make room at a zoo, aquarium, or museum so some baby can get a good view of a baby panda/shark/first lady's inauguration gown. Why should I have to move? Babies can't read -- they don't understand what's going on. They don't even understand language! They don't need to see animals or exhibits to be enriched -- I do! My life is pathetic and I need these outings to help me get through the week. Babies would be just as impressed by a blanket as they would by a tiger, so mom and dad back off because I was here first (and by that I do mean that I'm older than your kid) and I don't feel like making room for your goddamned baby. Your baby ain't a miracle, it's a nuisance -- or, as in the case of the picture shown above, it's completely disgusting.

It's a metro miracle

2006-05-31T00:55:00.000-04:00

A week and a half ago I lost my wallet on the metro. This was a particularly impressive feat for me since I literally spend only 15 minutes on the metro (from escalator to escalator) every day. More impressive, however, was how convoluted WMATA managed to make their lost and found claims service. The internet site WMATA created for you to "easily" report your lost item is slow and will freeze, often times just as you've finished the claim form and are waiting for your claim number. This claim number is what you're supposed to use whenever you talk to a WMATA service person about your item. Figuring that the 8 aborted internet claims, one voicemail and one email I had made would probably equal at least one real claim, I called the phone number WMATA lists (buried at the bottom of the contact us page, no less) for its lost and found service so I could talk to someone about my wallet. No luck, as the number only provides an automated message for you to find out the office's address. There's not even an option to talk to a person. For a laugh, the message also directs you to WMATA's main customer service for more information. Dialing this number reveals that the line plays the EXACT same friggin message you can hear when you dial the lost and found number. Desperate and grasping at straws, I talked to a live person on the customer service line -- and they were actually very helpful despite the fact they had no way of knowing if my claim had been made or processed or if anything had been found. I got the impression this would have been the case even if I had a claim number or not, but at least the woman was helpful.

And then lo, just as I was giving up hope and getting ready to brave the MVA to go get my third license in as many years, I got a postcard from WMATA alerting me that my wallet had been found. So I took my postcard, which bore no mention to the many lost claims I had made to WMATA, to Silver Spring. WMATA has craftily hidden their claims office away at 8405 Colesville Road, which is confusingly actually a block off the road and really on Second Ave. You'd think it'd be easiest to just have the claims office within the metro system at a centrally located place (like, I dunno... METROCENTER?). I guess it's because WMATA really wants the minimum $1.35 charge you incur by having to leave the metro system to get your lost items. "Conveniently" this office is only open between the hours of 7 and 3:30 (MWF) and 9 and 6 (T,TH). I'm only mentioning the hours here for you because WMATA makes no mention of this on their website, and I think you should know that if you ever lose something you might as well just go straight to the office and avoid even making a claim. Seriously, it's your best bet. And yet, despite all these obstacles, me and my wallet were finally reunited. And on top of that, all my money, credit cards and license were still in my wallet. So thanks WMATA for safely housing my wallet in such a way that no one, almost including me, could find it and use it. I'd especially like to thank the kind person who refrained from stealing my money and my identity.

Babies are not fun to be around

2006-05-30T01:53:00.000-04:00

One of the most annoying things about babies is that it's not socially acceptable to dislike them. Apparently that is “wrong.” Worse yet, females especially are supposed to be able to interact lovingly with babies. Yet, I have almost zero idea of how to do this. They're terrifying! Sure you could do something really dumb like smile or hide behind a blanket, and they'll probably like it. But then they might make an ungodly noise -- like a squeal! Nothing cuts me deeper than the joyful squeal of a baby; it's like nails on a chalkboard. Worse still, if you do something the baby doesn't like then it starts to cry. Then, not only have you failed to entertain the easiest audience in the world, but the baby is making a loud annoying noise thus alerting the world to how bad you suck with children. Oh the shame.

Given how even making faces at a baby is stressful, you better believe I won't hold one. I'm pretty certain I'd end up doing it wrong. I could probably figure it out if I thought about it long enough, but the results would probably still fall somewhere between Britney Spears and Michael Jackson on the bad-baby-holder scale. Luckily, I have successfully avoided holding a baby since I was eleven, as I know that holding a baby would be incredibly uncomfortable and unnatural for me. It's the same way a cat feels when its crazy owner puts clothes on it: humiliated, frightened, and uncomfortable.

But my uncanny ability to avoid having a hot little diaper-dumper in my arms doesn't free me from the obligatory ooohing and ahhing whenever someone presents one to me at a coworker's baby shower or a family reunion. I have very little to say about babies that would be appropriate. Shocking, I know. And I'm very stressed by the entire interaction of heaping adoration on infants because everyone else in the immediate area seems to compliment the baby with ease, thus making my babyfear all the more apparent. And you know the baby's parents want to hear how special their baby is despite the fact that it seems pretty much like every other baby you've ever seen. Some things that usually pop into my mind when a baby and its mother come within in five feet of me: "Your baby boy is very tenacious -- I can tell by the way he insists on eating his own foot." or "Wow, she doesn't look like a wrinkly old dude. Maybe that means she'll be pretty some day. Till then keep velcroing bows to her head so people know it's a she." But in the end I have to say something that no doubt makes me sound like a babbling idiot: "Oh I love the duckies on his onesie." Is that even a complete sentence? Jesus, babies are stressful.

On team Angelina and the ugliness of babies

2006-05-30T00:27:00.000-04:00

Having been away from my computer this weekend I am just now finding out that the Jolie-Pitt Namibian love child has finally been born. Mazel Tov to you and yours Jolie-Pitts! I think it's funny that the baby was born within seven days of the Breakup's movie premiere, but I will refrain from speculating that little Shiloh tried to plan her birth at a time that would spite her daddy's ex-wife.

I will not, however, refrain from sharing my true feelings on babies. If you know me, then you know I am not a fan of babies. They are messy, loud, ugly, weird, smelly and generally bad company. And, inexplicably, the people that make these things like bringing them out and inflicting them on the rest of us. And if you think about it, it's a pretty weird phenomenon since there's really nothing else that can pop out of a vagina that would be socially acceptable to even talk about let alone photograph or parade about town. So because of the birth of the Jolie-Pitt uber-bebe, and because I spent my weekend on the Upper West Side where there is a disturbing preponderance of doublewide strollers, I am going to embark upon a series of short essays as to why I feel babies are bad news. For starters, here's my entry for today, which I would like to entitle "Human baby: God's ugliest joke?"

Babies are ugly. Let me repeat that: BABIES ARE UGLY. Up until about 4 months they're actually scary looking. Then they go through a phase where they look funny --so funny I guess it could be considered cute. Kind of like how pug dogs are so ugly they're cute. But I think it still leans a little heavy on the ugly side. It's not until babies are at least three that they start resembling anything I would call a person. Meanwhile, all sorts of baby animals are downright adorable. Sure other baby animals are pretty gross when they're first born, just like human babies, but this period of time is incredibly short compared to the months that can pass before a newborn human is ready to be looked at. Generally, within a month animal babies become undeniably adorable. For scientific evidence that god made human babies ugly in comparison to the offspring of other animals, look at the pictures below and witness one of the many reasons I'd rather have a pet than a baby. Additionally, I'd like to point out I got all the pictures you'll see below from cuteoverload, with the glaring exception of the human baby picture. Apparently the internet's foremost authority on cuteness also thinks that human babies just don't pass muster when it comes to adorability.

Humans clearly got the ugly end of the baby shaft.

To the class of '06

2006-05-25T10:06:00.000-04:00

Approximately one year ago I was just like you, newly graduated and on the verge of entering the workforce. Having gained an infinite amount of wisdom in the 12 extra months I have been out of college, I have some advice for you. I figured you'd really need to hear what I think, since I bet that absolutely no one else you've talked to since graduation has shared any advice, suggestions, life views, etc.

First, you're going to get a degree soon. Keep that puppy in it's cardboard roll. Degrees are a friggin' jip -- particularly if you attend an illustrious institution like UMD where they give you only the largest of degrees that will cost you a ton of money to frame. I have two of them and they are unlikely to ever see the light of day. I imagine that my decision to keep these degrees in their rolls will be validated when during an avian flu epidemic I will be forced to light fires with my degrees for warmth and sustenance. Aside from their fire-starting properties I see little value to these pieces of paper. That's why I say you should keep yours in a roll, too. You already paid a bunch of money to earn it, do you really need to spend another $50 for someone else to see it? If someone doubts your education, throw some multisyllabic words their way and then hit them hard, preferably with the cardboard roll that houses your degree. That'll learn 'em.

Second, know that you can still live a college lifestyle. You can drink even more than before, in fact. That is, without the anxiety of homework holding you down, you can go to happy hour every night if you are a functional alcoholic with a lot of money to spend. I say do it, but just tread carefully here friend because that slope is slippery and it leads straight to Bethesda -- or worse, the TGIFRiday on the Pike. You don't want to grow up to be a 35 year old who gets too drunk and dances too laciviously on a weeknight, all the while being mocked by just-out-of-college newbies.

Third, without a set school calender and changing schedules every four months you will find that every day is exactly the same. And I mean that each day will be soul-crushingly monotonous. Sure there are seasons, but thanks to climate control buildings and offices without windows very little will change the view from your desk. Weekdays become Monday, that other day, and Friday. Seriously, every day you work will blend together till next thing you know eight months have passed and you won't even know it. I thought it was still March. You may want to turn to excessive drinking, but see above as to why that should only be a temporary solution.

Finally, you're probably going to spend a lot of time online at work. Resist the urge to start a blog. It will take up your time, make you susceptible to stalking, and possibly get you fired. Plus, writing a blog gives the impression that you're self absorbed. I know what you're thinking, 'Hey a******, you write a blog.' True, but no one reads this. That makes it a victimless crime, kind of like shoplifting or punching someone in the dark.

Keep all this in mind while you're gobbling hot dogs at people's graduation BBQs and talking to adult strangers who, fearing their own lives have been a waste, will tell you to do whatever the hell they did when they were your age.

I'm wasting my youth on netflix

2006-05-22T00:39:00.000-04:00

Some movies are bad, like Showgirls and Mannequin, but I love them. And some movies are bad like Swimming Pool or Memoirs of a Geisha and I hate them with the passion of a thousand burning suns. Generally the difference between bad-bad and bad-good movies is length and unintentional comedy, but neither of the two movies I spent a whopping six hours watching last week could be redeemed. And when I write bad I don't mean "bad" as in "good" like the Michael Jackson song, I mean "bad" as in "oh my god I'm wasting my life and the only way to remedy this is to waste some more of my precious early 20s time blogging about it." Six hours is a ridiculously long time. Here are some things I could have been doing instead of watching these movies:

I could have....
* Driven to North Carolina
* Worked most of a full work day.
* Taught a child how to read
* Taken my great grandmother out to lunch
* Debated the hilarity/tragedy behind bizarre causes of deaths such as being hit by a falling tree, dachsund mauling, or "death by alligator" in a blog entry
* Cleaned my room
* Visited 2 Smithsonian museums
* Gotten an entire night's sleep
* Downloaded hundreds of songs for my ipod
* Written and produced a 30 second PSA on the dangers of feeding alligators to help combat the disturbing rise of deaths by Alligator attack in Florida. This would have been done out of guilt for even suggesting that being attacked by an Alligator is funny in the fictional blog post I wrote.
* Made a jello mold for Lauren's birthday

* Flown to California
* Made $500 using the guaranteed informercial Foreign Currency Exchange system "4x"
* Walked to Northern Virginia, which is a weird since I'd usually rather do anything than go to NoVa
* Made a completely edible get well card Kentucky Derby winner Barbaro out of carrots, apples and oats
* Stalked people on myspace

Thanks Netflix, you're really holding me back. And that's pretty selfish, because I could have been doing a lot of good for the world. Also, I hold my roommates responsible as the movies I saw were not movies I put on the queue. Please people, save yourselves from this world of broken dreams and regret. Do not watch either Memoirs of a Geisha or Swimming Pool. Unless of course you like boringness and Asian women (Memoirs), or boringness and ugly sex (Swimming Pool), but then I probably don't know you. Or, will lose all desire to continue knowing you. I would write a really hilarious post about the hundreds of reasons Memoirs is bad or the thousands of reasons Swimming Pool is bad but I don't feel like engaging in any further discussions about these life-stealing monstrosities. No, those movies ruined my day when I watched them and I'm not going to let them ruin any more days in my future.

I'm not a rac-ist, I'm a scient-ist

2006-05-15T20:24:00.000-04:00

Before I begin, a little background:
2000: A group of 7th graders go on a field trip to a science lab. They are asked to draw and describe a stereotypical scientist before their trip and after.
March 2006: I discover the drawings these children did on the internet while researching national youth art month so I could immortalize the month in poem form.
Today: I finally get around to writing a blog about said drawings.

These glorious pictures are the result of a 7th grade field trip to the Fermi National Accelerator Lab in Batavia, Illinois. Apparently the Fermilab is an ideal place for beleagured middle school science teachers to take their students to visit when they've run out of lesson plans, as the lab grounds are open to the public and have a pond (that you can fish in!!), some physicists, and some roaming buffalo. The Fermilab also boasts the Tevatron which is a giant particle accelerator, and not, as I had orginally assumed, an ugly-sandal-robot. I wanted to share these kids' drawings and insights into the wonderful world of science since many of my friends and roommates are scientists, and I myself am a social (aka fake) scientist.

There are maaaaany pictures and descriptions on this site, so I shall share just two. For starters, here is Amanda's perceptions of a scientist. Before meeting physicists, Amanda commented that, "A scientist is in the Guinness Book of World Records. I see a scientist winning on Who Wants to be a Millionaire."

Okay so I think it's safe to say that Amanda is pretty impressed by scientists. Sure, I wouldn't have pointed out that scientists are in the Guinness book, but then again I'm not that impressed by the Guinness illuminati. I don't find it complimentary to be counted as being in the same company as the fat twins who ride motorcycles, that Indian dude with the long finger nail, and the MD day strawberry short cake. I mean, if I were Amanda I would have been more impressed by the fact that scientists appear to be so jaundiced that they can make their desks levitate, but since Amanda is probably 12, I'll cut her some slack.

So after Amanda met with physicists who work with one of the world's largest particle accelerators I assumed she'd only be more impressed. Here is her picture and her comments:

"...anyone can be a scientist. I saw people walking around in sweatpants and jeans. Who knows? Maybe I can be a scientist."

I guess the lab chose Randy, the lab's token sweatpants-wearing fat guy, to talk to the kids. The dynamic image of scientists as Guinness breaking go-getters surrounded by floating desks is gone. Now anyone, provided they wear jeans or sweatpants, can be a scientist. I also like how Amanda writes, "Who knows? Maybe I can be a scientist." For some reason I get the impression that she meant to write, "Who knows? If I can't find a real job or I get really fat, I guess I could be a scientist."

This last one comes from Jesse. Unlike Amanda, Jesse isn't completely blown away by scientists before the field trip. Here's his ho-hum description, "To me a scientist is a man who works hard in his lab examining liquid and chemicals. He has a long white coat open. He is fixing his glasses so he can see better. He has pockets full of pens and pencils." Sure he thinks they're hard working and they have tons of pencils, but I don't get the impression from this picture that Jesse particularly likes scientists. He doesn't even think that they're cool enough to be on Millionaire. Flash forward and witness the transformation.

Apparently, Jesse met Christ the scientist on his field trip. At least, that's the best explanation I can give for this weird picture of a glowing, floating Jesus figure surrounded by beakers, and... is that a fire extinguisher in the corner?? I guess even Christ is susceptible to chemical explosions. Jesse's description of scientists is classic: "Some people think that scientists are just some genius nerds in white lab coats, but they are actually people who are trying to live up to their dreams and learn more. No two scientists are exactly alike. So, if you want to be a scientist, be like these wonderful people and live up to your dreams." Well Jesse what if my dream is to convince people to stop eating at Coldstone? Would following that dream make me a scientist? I would make the argument that it would. Because after all, no two scientists are exactly alike -- just like snowflakes.

To all you fellow scientists out there-- how well do these kids' perceptions sync with your own experiences?

Tuloy po kayo

2006-05-09T00:58:00.000-04:00

Yahoo headlines dazzled again over the weekend with this awesome headline: 3,738 Mothers Set Breast-Feeding Record Obvi, I clicked the link and was delighted to find that my people, Filipinos, are the ones who can lay claim to a stunt encouraging the beautiful and natural act of mass breast-feeding. And it made me so proud. Then it occurred to me that I probably should have written a blog in April, the designated month to appreciate Asians, to spread the good word on Filipinos. I figure May is close enough since I'm only a quarter Asian. Without further ado (after all I'm not getting any more Asian) here are some important things you should know about Filipinos.

First things first, how to spot a Filipino American.
Filipino Americans are very notable in their above-average attractiveness. Take, for example, Vanessa Minillo Miss Teen USA 1998 and current MTV veejay/girlfriend to Derek Jeter or Nick Lachey.

Though a Filipino's beauty is pretty good give away, there are some outliers. After all, Rob Schneider is part Filipino. Last names are a more reliable indicator that someone is indeed Filipino. If you meet a person of obvious Asian descent yet they mysteriously have a Hispanic name, chances are good that they are Filipino. Take the quiz below to see if you can accurately guess which of the women shown is actually Filipino:

Now that you know how to spot a Pinoy, you are no doubt intimidated by their superiority to you in almost every way (except height). Have no fear,the followinng pictures will assure you that Filipinos are every bit as humble and down to Earth as the rest of us.

Filipinos -- they're just like us!

They play professional sports!

They're Prince! Actually that's a lie. I'm almost positive that Prince is not Filipino, but this website told me he was --twice. And who I am to combat a dubious website listing?

They have debilitating genetic disorders that stunt their growth!

They portray teenagers in movies despite being over 30 years old!

They served on the Takoma Park city council from 1995-1999!

They peaked in the nineties!

They have ugly moles and somewhat attractive girlfriends!

They ice skate!

And with that, consider yourself educated on the wonderful world of Filipinos. Walang anuman. Don't fret if you don't understand them thar words, I certainly don't. I just went to this website and found a few Tagalog phrases that I most probably inappropriately used. Final Flip Fun Fact: Tagalog is prononced tuh-gahlic so don't go thinking it's a Girl Scout cookie.

The good, the bad

2006-05-05T13:11:00.000-04:00

In a recent attempt to depress myself at how many people read this blog, I joined sitemeter. More important than seeing how many times Jerome and Rina read my blog, I also get to see what google searches are directing people to this site, and I just wanted to let you all know that my fight against Coldstone is gaining momentum. Apparently Google likes to direct people to my site when people are searching for information on Coldstone. So take that you evil corporation, I'm going to convince the world, one blog entry at a time that you are bad. So that makes me happy. Also, it makes me happy that this blog is the number one hit for the phrase "cheese it the fuzz."

On the otherhand, apparently if you google my full name you can find this blog, which is sad since I thought I had tried pretty well to make sure this could never be traced to me. It kind of freaks me out because I don't really want this site associated with me. I mean, what will happen if I should ever try to get a job with Denver's city hall and they read this post? Or if I started dating ex-Road Ruler and current-waste of-space Mark and he read this? I don't want to unlist from Google, because then I couldn't effectively continue my feud with Coldstone. So, I'm debating shutting down this url and posting on a new page where my name will hopefully remain anonymous so as to protect any of my future employment endeavors in Denver and in love with Road Rules Mark.

And to the person who keeps googling my name to find this blog (because I know that it is the same person...) just save the link already. The more you click on that link the more popular that hit becomes, so please, STOP.

American Idolatry not as shallow as I would like

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

Pop Quiz: Who is the man shown in this picture?

If you answered the inevitable outcome of a love tryst between O, Brother Where Art Thou co-stars John Turturro and Tim Blake Nelson, you would be technically correct, though missing the point. No, this man is Elliot Yamin, one of the remaining four contestants on American Idol.

I am floored that he's made it this far. I grant you that I have little to no knowledge as to the difference between good and great singing, and I hear that he's apparently the best male vocalist they've ever had. But still, this guy? Look at this picture, he kind of looks like Batboy. And since when has American Idol been about who sings the best?

At first I thought that Paris' elimination this past Wednesday was just another continuation of American Idol's two most frequencly recurring themes 1) a doofy white guy makes it far in the competition (does it get doofier than Clay Aiken?) and 2) an amazing and attractive femal vocalist (Tamyra Gray, Jennifer Hudson) is voted off before taking her rightful spot in the Top 3. But I didn't feel completely comfortable making that assumption since I've only ever heard Elliot sing a few times. I always fast-forward Elliot's performances because watching his face as he sings make me cringe. I'm not joking, and I can't explain it other than his face fills me with pity because he's not attractive. Yes I am just that shallow. So to explore the fascination with this man who, as far as I can tell, is talented but not that interesting or attractive, I decided to break one of my own rules about how I should spend my time and I visited a message board on the Idol website. Here was my favorite fan testimonial:

"...for the first time in years i have found myself praying again, and praying for elliott, because i honestly see a lot of myself in him, like when he cried after his mom's video and he said he missed his family and friends, and how down to earth he is, and also i have prayed because i truly feel he deserves it."
~ a 27 year old message boarder who sympathizes with Yamin because her mother died recently and his mother is ill

I'm a changed woman. Sure he's weird looking, but apparently he's a powerful man -- after all he re-united this woman with her God. Plus he's also hard of hearing, his mom is sick, and he seems to cry a lot. So I guess I understand why people overlook his face and vote for him (pity). From here on out, I will join this pity-party and will throw all my non-voting American Idol support behind Yamin. Might as well, my Idol pool is shot to hell since he made it to the top 4 anyway.

P.S. It was disturbingly easy to find a picture of the two Brother stars standing a little-too-close together. Maybe they really do have a love child, and maybe it really is Yamin?

Spring is here, and plant love (pollen) is in the air

2006-05-03T09:44:00.000-04:00

So this post is a little late because if you've been paying attention then you already know that it has been spring for well over a month. The cherry blossoms are gone, the daffodils are dead, and the crush of DC tourists has subsided until June when they will return in all their FBI-fanny-packed-glory. Yet I know it is still spring because the soaring pollen count is finally getting to me, high school baseball is in full swing, and every day is humidity-free and gorgeous.

But I know that summer must be right around the corner because the plant porn going on outside is winding down now that the azaleas are blooming. Spring is nothing but a nonstop mother-nature sex-show, punctuated by birds chirping the bird-equivalent of 'shake it mami!' And azaleas are the orgasm of that triple xxx show. They are the spectacular end to the all spring blooming flowers. They blossom just as other flowers are beginning to die and everything else is turning green, and they burst onto the scene with the most spectacular day-glo fuschia and pink colors that put all the other flowers to shame. Just looking at azaleas gives me a headache thinking about all the energy the plant had to use to create those crazy colors. And those brighter-than Barbie pinks all have trashy stripper (if flowers were strippers...) names like 'lace cap,' 'satin robe,' and 'purdey.' But that's why I love the azaleas -- though their beauty is undeniable they lack any subtlety. They are the trashily-hot girl who shows up two hours late to the party, already drunk and ready to make out. Sure, everyone says they like cherry blossoms, the cute, church-going girl who doesn't drink and never lets anyone past first base. But really, which would you rather have in your front yard?

Oh yahoo headlines

2006-04-28T07:40:00.000-04:00

Frequently the headlines on yahoo are ridiculous, and the following headline is no exception. Katrina Report Rips the White House Anew While I understand the message of the headline, I think it's generally a bad idea to use a headline that seems like it's missing the world "A*****e" at the end of it.

p.s. That wasn't negative was it??

Does anyone love Oprah more than Oprah?

2006-04-26T00:10:00.000-04:00

I try my best to avoid getting worked up about letters to the editor and internet message boards, because really why ruin a day? Just reading them generally gets me all up in arms about things that don't matter, and 3 hours into drafting the perfect response I have a moment of clarity when I realize that I am wasting my time. I generally solve this problem with avoidance and forced apathy.

But on my way into work today I read a letter to the editor published in the Express that I just could not let stand. It was entitled "Oprah isn't 'Self-absorbed.'" I got annoyed reading this letter, but I realized there was no point writing a response back into the paper for something that didn't matter. However, since my week of no negativity and no bashing rants starts tomorrow I thought a blog response to this letter would be a good way to purge the venom before a week of boring goodness. Also, I wanted to continue the trend of blogging about the Omnipotent one every few months.
To begin, here is a reproduction of the letter as it was published:

"To the statement [by Washington Post columnist Lisa De Moraes] that Oprah is "self-absorbed" in Monday's Express Channel Surfing column, I respond:
I have been to a taping of Oprah's show in Chicago and Oprah is looking off camera at the monitors for signals to go to commercial or reading the Tele PrompTer, she is not looking at herself. She is building schools in South Africa for girls and gave the children there their first real Christmas. She came to the aid of the Katrina victims when FEMA and the American government did next to nothing. Her Angel Network has built houses and sent kids to college. She initiated a movement in this country to catch child sex offenders. And those are just some of her accomplishments.
So before you hate on her, please consider all the wonder things this "self-absorbed" broadcaster has done to make this world a better place."

Okay, so obviously this author has a fundamental problem in her argument in that she cannot grasp that a person could be self-absorbed in addition to being charitable. People can be both good and bad simultaneously, which is a much tougher concept for people to grasp than it should be. Sure Oprah has done a ton of great things and donated her money and time to good causes, but there is no denying that she is self-absorbed. Incidentally, did you know that in addition to her charitable donations Oprah spent $100,000 on fake eyelashes last year? That's right, she spent three times my annual income on fake eyelashes. But I'm sure that it was only because she couldn't come up with a better use for $100,000 than to make herself pretty. My best argument as to Oprah's feelings about herself, however, is that the woman is on every single one of the covers for her eponymously titled magazine. If that's not self-absorbed then I don't know what is. So eat it letter author because your God loves herself more than a fat kid (or maybe Oprah circa '95?) loves cake.

But I don't blame Oprah. I think she's been forced into being self-absorbed by people like the author of this letter. You know the Oprah fan (stereo)type : middle-aged, chubby, clappy, Oprah-crazed fanatics who cry when they watch cheesy commercials and who most likely collect Precious Moments statues. And really, it's with these people that I have the beef, they have made Oprah the monster that she is. How could Oprah, or anyone for that matter, stay humble when every day she is greeted by 100 screaming mothers who would have a hard time choosing between saving her or their firstborn if they were both trapped in a burning building? The few Oprah episodes that I have watched have been almost completely unbearable because of these MACC0CFs. They just stand there, barely able to contain their excitement (and as a corollary their bladders or tears) from being in the same room with the Big O. Oprah then rewards them with either gifts or a good schooling on a societal ill. I hate it most when Oprah does a serious show about serious topics. Watching these MACCOCFs it becomes clear to me that they never knew, for instance, that female genital mutilation was a problem in other parts of the world, or that Night by Elie Weisel was a good book, or that racism is still a daily problem, or that young girls can be psychologically scarred from media images of beauty, or that children in Africa are mutilated and forced into militias. They never knew, that is, until Oprah told them. Don't get me wrong, I think it's great that Oprah encourages reading, self-awareness, charity and empathy amongst her fans. What bothers me is that I feel as if one day Oprah starting encouraging puppy-kicking and arsenic-poisoning they'd just as energetically take up those suggestions instead. So, I'll end this rant with an entreaty to all MACCOCFs that they get a clue that doesn't come from Oprah. At the very least, have an inkling about some of the stuff Oprah talks about before you hear about it from her. Read books (not just the ones that she suggests) like nonfiction books about history and geopolitics. Watch less TV, listen to more NPR, read more newspapers (not USA Today) and write fewer dumb-ass letters to the editor. But keep dieting and baking, those are good habits.

The pageant world hasn't been rocked this hard since Drop Dead Gorgeous

2006-04-25T23:35:00.000-04:00

As some of you may or may not know (though I'm guessing that many of you will probably not care either way), I once worked with and also participated in beauty pageants. Specifically, I was the "assistant producer" to both the Miss USA and Miss Teen USA state pageants for an undisclosed southern state, one I might add which I had never even set foot in the state. I was also an entrant in two filipino pageants when I was a teenager despite my disappointing failure to pass for even half-Asian. And I was reminded of my pageant history with the recent crowning of Miss USA last week -- it was in Baltimore. For at least a week leading up to the pageant, there were 51 bonafied beauty queens running around only the classiest of Maryland sites ranging from the Muvico theatre to Ocean City to Baltimore. But they're all gone now, so the overall average attractiveness of the state has returned to its normal subpar levels. Since I missed the chance to pal around with some mascara-addicted, starving women with permanent smiles I figured I'd keep the pageant world alive in the old line state by exposing the dark underbelly of pageantry. So get ready, because this entry will mark the beginning of a two part series in which I reveal all I learned about pageants during my 2 year stint at the pageant production company, hereafter referred to as Sexual Harrassment, Inc.

Dark secret 1) Pageants are really old-fashioned. And not because they objectify women, but because they objectify women in a really weird and dated way. The women who participate in pageants are stuck in some weird midwest Prom beauty aesthetic where big hair and sequined dresses are still considered attractive. Just look at some of the top 15 finishers for this year's Miss USA pageant, these women look like they got caught in a wind tunnel in 1997.
And check out these dresses from 2004, that are ugly in any year.

Dark secret 2) Not all pageants contestants are pretty. Now if you have ever watched the Miss America pageant you already knew this. That pageant is just filled with women who are less than hot. Take, for example, the Miss USA and Miss America winners from 1995:
Miss America is for the sort of woman who wants to become a TV anchor -- her ambition well outstrips her beauty. Plus she posesses a talent for singing or playing the piano or something useless like that. Gorgeous women don't have time to learn how to play the steel drums -- an actual talent this past year. Miss USA on the other hand is the sort of woman who wants to be in Playboy -- she's blonde and willing to take off her clothes, and too lazy to do anything else. Particularly this Miss USA -- Shanna "all I do is sleep" Moakler.

But the real ugliness hides in the state preliminary pageants. A lot of this comes from the fact that you don't need to compete in local pageants to compete in an overall state pageant. In fact, all you need is a misguided belief that you're attractive, a desire for external approval and about $1500. When I would receive applications in the mail at the offices of Sexual Harrassment Inc., girls would send pictures of themselves that were unflattering, and they'd share heights (less than 5'0") and weights (more than 160 lbs) that were clearly NOT shallow pageant material. My boss, who I will call Mr. Sexual Harrassment to protect his anonymity (eventhough I think he may be dead?), would always remark on how these women were fat and had no chance of winning. Yet he had no problem shaking them down for their pageant entry fees. Then he'd tell me I looked like I had lost weight and that if he were 50 years younger I'd be "in trouble."

Dark secret 3) They're called "beauty queens" in a nod to the fact that some of them look like drag queens. Check out Miss Alaska, this gal/dude? looks like Alexis Arquette (the transgendered Arquette...) But beyond the mysterious manliness of Miss Alaska, pageant chicas wear so much make up that they end up looking like the skinny kid sister of Divine (of John Waters fame)-- especially if they aren't that pretty at the outset. Normally make-up increases one's beauty, but in the case of pageant contestants it just serves the eerie purpose of making women of every color and creed look like an interchangeable extra in a Vegas showgirl showcase. Or Alexis Arquette.