Setting: The classroom at the end of the day, me with my head down on the table with a screaming migraine.
Small Child: Are you dead?
Miss Kate: Yes, yes I am.
Small Child: I don't like talking to dead people.
Exit stage left.
Friday, May 30, 2008
Sunday, May 25, 2008
The Last Good Campaign
I just recently subscribed to Vanity Fair magazine because now that I no longer work in fashion I find that I have absolutely no need whatsoever to know what shoes Reese Witherspoon was wearing the last time she took her kids shopping. I can't afford a $400 t-shirt so I'm kind of over Vogue and InStyle thank you very much.
Since I finished both the most recent Jen Lancaster memoir as well as the most recent installment of Meg Cabot's Queen of Babble series, I sat down to read the feature piece in this month's Vanity Fair that I had actually been saving for a day like today.
I've always had a thing for contemporary US history, specifically the 1960's and the Vietnam era. Last week when I was sitting in Applebees in Tewksbury watching the news report on Ted Kennedy's tumor, all I could think was, "If he dies, that generation of Kennedys is gone forever." Then I realized too that someday soon there would come a generation that would have no idea who JFK and RFK even were, or what they stood for and meant to our country. The feature piece is an excerpt from a book by Thurston Clarke with photos by Bill Eppridge that details the 82 day campaign trail in 1968. After reading the piece and subsequently viewing the photo slideshow on Vanity Fair's website (which the title of this blog links to) I can feel my fire for 1960's era politics once again rearing its ugly head.
What would our country be like if RFK had lived long enough to get elected? Hell, what would it have been like if JFK had survived his term in office? Over the decades, we would be hard pressed to point to two political leaders who sparked such national support as the Kennedys in a time when we were fighting a war that most Americans felt we never had a right to be fighting in the first place. Race riots plagued the inner cities and college campuses were hotbeds for protests and violent outbursts from the National Guard, sent to keep students from expressing their views about the war and the changing political climate.
Everything changed in the 1960's. Women's rights. Civil Rights. Poetry, music, television, dance, clothing, education. People talked. They got involved and pushed movements that eventually changed laws, that drove the way our country evolved. Where can we even find that kind of passion any longer? Certainly not in a country that now vehemently distrusts the majority of their political leaders and citizens are more likely to vote for American Idol than they are to vote for our next presidential candidate.
I guess the entire point of this non-child centered rant is that I fear the day that we become a country that can't remember its own history. It's a cliche for a reason...we're doomed to repeat it. I just hope that in repeating our history, someday another enigmatic leader emerges to bring this country back to its roots before it's too late.
Since I finished both the most recent Jen Lancaster memoir as well as the most recent installment of Meg Cabot's Queen of Babble series, I sat down to read the feature piece in this month's Vanity Fair that I had actually been saving for a day like today.
I've always had a thing for contemporary US history, specifically the 1960's and the Vietnam era. Last week when I was sitting in Applebees in Tewksbury watching the news report on Ted Kennedy's tumor, all I could think was, "If he dies, that generation of Kennedys is gone forever." Then I realized too that someday soon there would come a generation that would have no idea who JFK and RFK even were, or what they stood for and meant to our country. The feature piece is an excerpt from a book by Thurston Clarke with photos by Bill Eppridge that details the 82 day campaign trail in 1968. After reading the piece and subsequently viewing the photo slideshow on Vanity Fair's website (which the title of this blog links to) I can feel my fire for 1960's era politics once again rearing its ugly head.
What would our country be like if RFK had lived long enough to get elected? Hell, what would it have been like if JFK had survived his term in office? Over the decades, we would be hard pressed to point to two political leaders who sparked such national support as the Kennedys in a time when we were fighting a war that most Americans felt we never had a right to be fighting in the first place. Race riots plagued the inner cities and college campuses were hotbeds for protests and violent outbursts from the National Guard, sent to keep students from expressing their views about the war and the changing political climate.
Everything changed in the 1960's. Women's rights. Civil Rights. Poetry, music, television, dance, clothing, education. People talked. They got involved and pushed movements that eventually changed laws, that drove the way our country evolved. Where can we even find that kind of passion any longer? Certainly not in a country that now vehemently distrusts the majority of their political leaders and citizens are more likely to vote for American Idol than they are to vote for our next presidential candidate.
I guess the entire point of this non-child centered rant is that I fear the day that we become a country that can't remember its own history. It's a cliche for a reason...we're doomed to repeat it. I just hope that in repeating our history, someday another enigmatic leader emerges to bring this country back to its roots before it's too late.
Thursday, May 22, 2008
I <3 Shiny Things
So I want to be best friends with the individual who invented self tanner. I work with a large group of women who are Barbie's first cousins- over 6 feet tall, blond, perfectly tan. And you know what makes it utterly impossible to hate them? They're all NICE!!! And not fakey nice like you sometimes are to the people you work with just to keep yourself from sticking something in their eye. Real nice. Like, "Hey we want you to feel like you've worked here forever" nice. I suck.
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
I Think I'm Fully Asleep...
This morning we all sat around the big table in the middle of the classroom looking like we'd each taken a handfull of horse tranquilizers. Yesterday was such an interminably long day that when I pulled into the parking lot today, I felt like I never even left. Plus I hit the curb on my way in. Sleeping behind the wheel obviously.
The day began yesterday with one of the kids having a tantrum that rivalled Hurricane Katrina, pulling down the blinds, turning over chairs, and eventually dropping trou. The next kid to have a meltdown kicked me square in the face. And just in case that wasn't nearly enough excitement, Tropical Storm Girl spit in my face and pulled my hair. And not just a dainty little yank either. She had a two fisted grab that would have made Tarzan proud.
Needless to say I was frustrated when I walked back into the classroom and started venting about how I had to put my foot down in some of these situations before I lost my mind. One little boy, who was lost in his own world inside his enormous hooded sweatshirt pipes up and says, "Mmhmm. You lay the smackdown."
Of course I burst out laughing and I said, "You know what sir? I love you. You're hilarious."
He replies, "Mmhmm. But only as a friend." Gotta keep those professional boundaries you know.
The day began yesterday with one of the kids having a tantrum that rivalled Hurricane Katrina, pulling down the blinds, turning over chairs, and eventually dropping trou. The next kid to have a meltdown kicked me square in the face. And just in case that wasn't nearly enough excitement, Tropical Storm Girl spit in my face and pulled my hair. And not just a dainty little yank either. She had a two fisted grab that would have made Tarzan proud.
Needless to say I was frustrated when I walked back into the classroom and started venting about how I had to put my foot down in some of these situations before I lost my mind. One little boy, who was lost in his own world inside his enormous hooded sweatshirt pipes up and says, "Mmhmm. You lay the smackdown."
Of course I burst out laughing and I said, "You know what sir? I love you. You're hilarious."
He replies, "Mmhmm. But only as a friend." Gotta keep those professional boundaries you know.
Monday, May 19, 2008
Another Day...Another Sartorial Surprise
To quote Jen Lancaster, my absolute favorite author ever... I <3 You Target.
I went grocery shopping with a couple of the kids this morning and of course found myself trailing up and down the aisles, making my grocery list as I went. I've been particularly lazy lately about going to the grocery store, mostly because I'm so tired and ravenous when I get out of work that I just want to go home and start eating and not stop until I hit table. But also because I'm next to broke and the IGA near my house is about $2 more expensive per item than every other store in civilized America. So this afternoon I stopped at Target to pick up a stapler, staples, and a scotch tape dispenser. $100 later...
While searching for Zone Bars, I discovered that our Target is a "super" Target. Not only do they carry things like the aforementioned stapler and tape dispenser, but they also carry aisles upon aisles of food. For cheap, yo. By the time it was all said and done I was waxing poetic on the phone with my mother about the beauty of being able to find pre-sliced roast beef for only $2.09.
Of course, being that it was Monday, someone decided to put crack in the Cheerios because the kids were INSANE today. During morning meeting the kids had to discuss what they did over the weekend which, I've discovered after only 4 days is absolutely hilarious. One of the kids was discussing his trip to Chuck E. Cheese where, as one of the IA's (Instructional Assistants) pointed out, there wasn't actually any pizza involved, but there were plenty of games and the kids actually got to meet Chuck E. himself. The child who was reading his missive on the wonders of Chuck E. Cheese's establishment then remarked that Chuck E. is actually a giant rat. What was the response from one of the other students?
"Don't you talk about Chuck E. like that..."
Very shortly after, I realized that one of my students had been out of the room for an extraordinary amount of time. We've just reinstituted the use of hall passes so that we can keep better track of where the kids are and should be so I knew this kiddo was supposed to be in the restroom. Before I could even make it to the doorway I heard, "Get down on the ground! GET DOWN ON THE GROUND!"
Did I mention that this is the same little boy who has the cop fixation? He had thrown his hall pass on the floor and was in the process of arresting it. Apparently for disorderly conduct.
I went grocery shopping with a couple of the kids this morning and of course found myself trailing up and down the aisles, making my grocery list as I went. I've been particularly lazy lately about going to the grocery store, mostly because I'm so tired and ravenous when I get out of work that I just want to go home and start eating and not stop until I hit table. But also because I'm next to broke and the IGA near my house is about $2 more expensive per item than every other store in civilized America. So this afternoon I stopped at Target to pick up a stapler, staples, and a scotch tape dispenser. $100 later...
While searching for Zone Bars, I discovered that our Target is a "super" Target. Not only do they carry things like the aforementioned stapler and tape dispenser, but they also carry aisles upon aisles of food. For cheap, yo. By the time it was all said and done I was waxing poetic on the phone with my mother about the beauty of being able to find pre-sliced roast beef for only $2.09.
Of course, being that it was Monday, someone decided to put crack in the Cheerios because the kids were INSANE today. During morning meeting the kids had to discuss what they did over the weekend which, I've discovered after only 4 days is absolutely hilarious. One of the kids was discussing his trip to Chuck E. Cheese where, as one of the IA's (Instructional Assistants) pointed out, there wasn't actually any pizza involved, but there were plenty of games and the kids actually got to meet Chuck E. himself. The child who was reading his missive on the wonders of Chuck E. Cheese's establishment then remarked that Chuck E. is actually a giant rat. What was the response from one of the other students?
"Don't you talk about Chuck E. like that..."
Very shortly after, I realized that one of my students had been out of the room for an extraordinary amount of time. We've just reinstituted the use of hall passes so that we can keep better track of where the kids are and should be so I knew this kiddo was supposed to be in the restroom. Before I could even make it to the doorway I heard, "Get down on the ground! GET DOWN ON THE GROUND!"
Did I mention that this is the same little boy who has the cop fixation? He had thrown his hall pass on the floor and was in the process of arresting it. Apparently for disorderly conduct.
Saturday, May 17, 2008
Painting the Barn
The older I get the more it seems that putting on makeup in the morning has become less of a part of a routine and more of a process similar to creating a mixed media piece of art. I find myself mixing liquid and cream shadows, wetting powdered shadows to make them brighter, powedering over powder with a touch of brightener and a little more powder. It occasionally surprises me that the theme song from the Maybelline commercials doesn't start playing out of my shower while Queen Latifah waxes poetic about the perfect shade of mascara (Clarins black with Lancome Black Onyx for a touch of glitter thank you very much). So now I'm radiant and smell like flowers with a hint of vanilla cookie mixed in for good measure. I guess I'm definitely ready to go photograph some dirty stinky buildings and probably get stung by a bee. Of course, I'll look great in my mug shot after I get arrested for trespassing.
Friday, May 16, 2008
You're Under Arrest! Sort Of...
This morning at our staff meeting we were told that one of the houses had sent an email to our supervisor asking that one of our students no longer be given fake police badges. Apparently this little cutie had managed, by yesterday afternoon, to arrest every person in every corner of the house. He also went out in the backyard and tried to arrest the wildlife. And a cat. And the supervisor's car.
Honestly, I couldn't make most of this stuff up if I tried. Especially when two kids are having an incredibly aggresive, verbal argument...just not with each other. They're both screaming, "Screw you!" at the appropriate intervals with the appropriate inflections, but they're both actually screaming at imaginary people. Go figure.
And by the way, the little guy with the police badge, also let us all know this morning that he really likes "naked grrs".
Honestly, I couldn't make most of this stuff up if I tried. Especially when two kids are having an incredibly aggresive, verbal argument...just not with each other. They're both screaming, "Screw you!" at the appropriate intervals with the appropriate inflections, but they're both actually screaming at imaginary people. Go figure.
And by the way, the little guy with the police badge, also let us all know this morning that he really likes "naked grrs".
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
Hallelujiah!.....Amen....
So day one of the new job....OWNED! I felt like I had worked in this place forever after only five minutes in the building. My classroom is brand new, never been used with its own sink, cabinets, and a cute little "cool off" room. The kids are absolute maniacs but I'll have that fixed within the next two weeks, I can guarantee it.
But the funniest part of the day today is when one of the instructional assistants made a comment and said, "Hallelujiah!" Without skipping a beat, the small child in the corner who hadn't said a word all morning yells, "Amen!"
Oh and one of my kids thinks Uncle Sam is his father...which by the way is what the "US" in USA stands for....
But the funniest part of the day today is when one of the instructional assistants made a comment and said, "Hallelujiah!" Without skipping a beat, the small child in the corner who hadn't said a word all morning yells, "Amen!"
Oh and one of my kids thinks Uncle Sam is his father...which by the way is what the "US" in USA stands for....
Monday, May 12, 2008
You Are Hitherto BANISHED!
I have now officially relegated every piece of black clothing I own to a trash back in my living/storage room and I have to say, I feel strangely...free.
Ok, to rewind and explain...since last November I have been forced to wear black all day everyday to work at Macy's. As my mother said to me, "It's as if you're being made to go to the most fashion conscious funeral every day." Tell me about it.
So in honor of starting a new job, I cleaned every piece of black out of my closet, drawers, and off my floor and swept it all into a bag UNFOLDED. Take that black wardrobe.
So today was Day 1 of "I No Longer Work for Satan's Playground Retail Stores" and let me tell you, even though I had to drive all the way out to Worcester to sit in a basement and re-learn all the CPI stuff I learned at the Darkside, it was SO worth it. Let me just tell you why...
First off, I got a message yesterday that I had already been replaced at my store. It seems my sniveling little troll of a store manager had a feeling I was planning to cut and run so he started interviewing candidates for my position ages ago. I believe I may have to pay this poor woman a visit and warn her that if she has any shred of self preservation or self esteem she'll bail now, no questions asked. Unless she's fond of being told regularly that she sucks at her job and dresses badly. Hey, I didn't get the job because I have good fashion sense! Oh wait, yeah I did. Scratch that...
It was just great to spend a day talking about something other than that fabulously cute skirt or how green is the new pink. It so is NOT!
Ok, to rewind and explain...since last November I have been forced to wear black all day everyday to work at Macy's. As my mother said to me, "It's as if you're being made to go to the most fashion conscious funeral every day." Tell me about it.
So in honor of starting a new job, I cleaned every piece of black out of my closet, drawers, and off my floor and swept it all into a bag UNFOLDED. Take that black wardrobe.
So today was Day 1 of "I No Longer Work for Satan's Playground Retail Stores" and let me tell you, even though I had to drive all the way out to Worcester to sit in a basement and re-learn all the CPI stuff I learned at the Darkside, it was SO worth it. Let me just tell you why...
First off, I got a message yesterday that I had already been replaced at my store. It seems my sniveling little troll of a store manager had a feeling I was planning to cut and run so he started interviewing candidates for my position ages ago. I believe I may have to pay this poor woman a visit and warn her that if she has any shred of self preservation or self esteem she'll bail now, no questions asked. Unless she's fond of being told regularly that she sucks at her job and dresses badly. Hey, I didn't get the job because I have good fashion sense! Oh wait, yeah I did. Scratch that...
It was just great to spend a day talking about something other than that fabulously cute skirt or how green is the new pink. It so is NOT!
Friday, May 9, 2008
You Have Earned My Scorn!
ok i am blogging from my cell so hopefully this will work. today is my last day at my job and the manager had the nerve to yell at me for taking a break! ok. take a step back. examine what you just said to me, then ask me again if i might change my mind and stay. shmuck.
You Have Earned My Scorn!
ok i am blogging from my cell so hopefully this will work. today is my last day at my job and the manager had the nerve to yell at me for taking a break! ok. take a step back. examine what you just said to me, then ask me again if i might change my mind and stay. shmuck.
Thursday, May 8, 2008
Pointy Objects
For those of you who are just getting to know me, this old blog posting gives you a quick peak into what life was like teaching at a residential a couple years ago. And yes, true story.
So today one of my kids came running into the classroom and tried to "kill" one of my other kids with a thumbtack.
And when it was all said and done, the higher ups wanted to know if any positive corrective teaching was done. Yeah I positively corrected his face into the carpet while wrestling the little pointy object from his greasy mitts. Is that positive enough for you?
I am now officially on "Sitting Duty". So basically I get to sit behind my desk and yell. It's not like they listen to me.
So today one of my kids came running into the classroom and tried to "kill" one of my other kids with a thumbtack.
To put this into perspective further, CrossDresser tried to dig out the jugular of ShutTheF&%KUpIceCream with a thumbtack. A THUMBTACK! How the hell do you kill someone with a thumbtack? Is that even possible?
And when it was all said and done, the higher ups wanted to know if any positive corrective teaching was done. Yeah I positively corrected his face into the carpet while wrestling the little pointy object from his greasy mitts. Is that positive enough for you?
And another...
Ok. I think this one might actually be even funnier...
So my best friend called this morning, I assumed to tell me more about the creditors calling for Scumbag. But no, not today. Today she called to tell me that her Boyfriend got mugged on the way home. LAST WEEK!!! See, the poor girl lives in the ghetto (not by choice of course) and right now they're paving her street so she has to park a mile away and sprint to her front door, lock herself in, and wait until morning. Thankfully she usually gets home before dark but alas, Boyfriend got home late from work one night and was subsequently mugged by three fine, upstanding young men who managed to steal a whopping $7 from him. Now, he also had a laptop on him and since he didn't want the muggers to take it, he did what every other red blooded young man would do in this situation. He screamed bloody murder. Thankfully, due to the night time paving job, there was a cop nearby who managed to arrest Boyfriend's attackers.
While crying uncontrollably, my best friend asks him why he didn't tell her about this earlier and he points out that he knew it would upset her. She continues to wail, spewing "what if's" and pointing out the obvious that these guys could have killed him. Boyfriend simply shrugs and replies, "Hey it was my first mugging. I think it went well!"
So my best friend called this morning, I assumed to tell me more about the creditors calling for Scumbag. But no, not today. Today she called to tell me that her Boyfriend got mugged on the way home. LAST WEEK!!! See, the poor girl lives in the ghetto (not by choice of course) and right now they're paving her street so she has to park a mile away and sprint to her front door, lock herself in, and wait until morning. Thankfully she usually gets home before dark but alas, Boyfriend got home late from work one night and was subsequently mugged by three fine, upstanding young men who managed to steal a whopping $7 from him. Now, he also had a laptop on him and since he didn't want the muggers to take it, he did what every other red blooded young man would do in this situation. He screamed bloody murder. Thankfully, due to the night time paving job, there was a cop nearby who managed to arrest Boyfriend's attackers.
While crying uncontrollably, my best friend asks him why he didn't tell her about this earlier and he points out that he knew it would upset her. She continues to wail, spewing "what if's" and pointing out the obvious that these guys could have killed him. Boyfriend simply shrugs and replies, "Hey it was my first mugging. I think it went well!"
Dirtbags
I'm resurrecting an old blog here because I just about pissed myself reading some of these. Enjoy!
My best friend called today to tell me about the creditors who have been hounding her about her ex-fiance. To rewind a little bit, about a year ago she came home to find her fiance in bed with his drug connection. The long and short is that she chased Crackhead Barbie out of the house with a bread knife. Fast forward to this morning when, for the millionth time in the last month, a credit card company is calling her to collect on her ex's debts. She calmly informs the nice man at the credit card company that the dirtbag hasn't been heard from for almost a year and that the best way to find out where he was would be to dangle a crack pipe at the end of a string because he'll be able to sniff it out from miles away.
Then the poor girl has to go into the hospital for a some sort of heart procedure and she's explaining to me that she woke up in the middle of the procedure and it felt like a bug crawling through her veins and up to her heart. She woke up once more during the procedure and says she now knows how it feels to have a heart attack. Then she had to pee partway through the 4 hour recovery- but can she get up to pee? NO. Because she could, drumroll please, bleed to death! Poor girl got threatened with catheter number 2 because she suddenly developed a shy bladder. "Do you see the bag of saline hanging up there? It's gonna have to come out. You put it in my arm and it's gonna have to come out my peepee!" And the doctor tells her not to get too excited after this procedure. HA!
My best friend called today to tell me about the creditors who have been hounding her about her ex-fiance. To rewind a little bit, about a year ago she came home to find her fiance in bed with his drug connection. The long and short is that she chased Crackhead Barbie out of the house with a bread knife. Fast forward to this morning when, for the millionth time in the last month, a credit card company is calling her to collect on her ex's debts. She calmly informs the nice man at the credit card company that the dirtbag hasn't been heard from for almost a year and that the best way to find out where he was would be to dangle a crack pipe at the end of a string because he'll be able to sniff it out from miles away.
Then the poor girl has to go into the hospital for a some sort of heart procedure and she's explaining to me that she woke up in the middle of the procedure and it felt like a bug crawling through her veins and up to her heart. She woke up once more during the procedure and says she now knows how it feels to have a heart attack. Then she had to pee partway through the 4 hour recovery- but can she get up to pee? NO. Because she could, drumroll please, bleed to death! Poor girl got threatened with catheter number 2 because she suddenly developed a shy bladder. "Do you see the bag of saline hanging up there? It's gonna have to come out. You put it in my arm and it's gonna have to come out my peepee!" And the doctor tells her not to get too excited after this procedure. HA!
Friday, May 2, 2008
How Much Xanax is Too Much Xanax??
This morning I went to the Dunkin Donuts in my town to pick up breakfast for work. I first ordered my regular French Vanilla coffee with milk and 6 sugars. It took a while, but I've finally gotten to the point where the word "milk" no longer throws them. However, what did throw them, was when I requested two boxes of Joe and 4 dozen doughnuts. They literally panicked, scattering like frightened wildlife, mumbling about how they would have to make more coffee because two boxes of Joe is just...well...a lot of coffee. 20 minutes later I had loaded the doughnuts into my car and stood, waiting for my boxes of caffeine while a tiny man in a Red Sox shirt made saucer eyes at me. Another 20 minutes later I finally got my boxes of coffee shoved at me by a very distraught employee wearing a headset, still muttering about how much coffee was in the boxes. Apparently this whole process so distressed her that she immediately had to wash her hands. I have no idea why...
So I get to work and give the operations director the receipt so I can be reimbursed and upon inspection, find that I was charged for FOUR BOXES OF COFFEE and TWO BOXES OF DONUTS. Uh...oops. Guess the coffee thing was traumatic for the cashier as well...
So I get to work and give the operations director the receipt so I can be reimbursed and upon inspection, find that I was charged for FOUR BOXES OF COFFEE and TWO BOXES OF DONUTS. Uh...oops. Guess the coffee thing was traumatic for the cashier as well...
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