Leaving for San Diego Soon

We leave for San Diego on Saturday. So far, I don't really know what we'll be doing when not at ComicCon, but probably the zoo, and maybe Seaworld and maybe LegoLand.

I bought some touristy books and one of those awesome pop-out maps. I've bought those for almost every place that I've been. All the overseas ones anyway, except for Nice.

They've posted the entire schedule for the con finally, so if you're interested you can see it here.

I was pretty excited about the autograph area, too, because the first four people listed were:
Katey Sagal
Lindsey Wagner
Richard Hatch
Erik Estrada

Now, last year they had Kelli Moroney, who I would love to meet.

Here's a photo of the view from where we'll be staying:














I'll be trying to blog while we're there, so stay tuned. My brother Brad will be bringing his laptop, so if he's not using it I guess that I will be.

Saturday with Cletus and Chloe

I hope you had a Happy Fourth! Poor me, no fireworks this year.

Went to Useless* on Saturday to hang out by my sister Chloe's pool. It was DAMN HOT, so I spent a good deal of time on the couch inside, mostly because I didn't feel like swimming.

I forgot to bring a camera, so have no photos from this particular holiday. That kinda sucks, but I'll remember next time.

My sister's about 11 months pregnant with a girl. She's naming the baby after my mom, but with a rather unusual middle name. The baby's name will be Mary "I'll kick your Damn Ass" Smith, (or whatever I decide their last name is this month.)

Next week we'll have a baby shower. I'm in charge of the cake. Have I said that I hate baby showers lately? Wedding/bridal showers too. Not my thing, especially the pastel colors, stupid games and all about the childbirth experiences of each and every woman there. Which, don't get me wrong, I totally respect these women and their lives and their stories, but I'm not sure that I really need to know which of the women I know have had an episiotomy (since I've already heard about it four times.)


*AKA Euless, a suburb of Dallas that's usually grouped with its sister cities Hurst and Bedford in conversation.
As in, "Hey, I was in HEB this weekend visiting relatives."

Thursday's Cat

Pretty and with a sense of humor. How often does that happen?
Sadly, his brother has no sense of humor. This is why he gets all worked up running around the living room and bites me when I try to pet him.

Sketchblog

I was looking at blogger's Blogs of Note and from there went to Sketchblog, by Rob Sheridan. He's done a great and irreverent digital painting of cereal mascots, and also a really detailed how-to.

One of the reasons to love this series of tubes.

Same Bunny?

This might be the same bunny, but now he's in the front yard. The cats were fascinated with him all day, and wouldn't leave the window. The first photo that I tried with my mom's camera (a Nikon D50) had the flash bouncing off the window. That was a great photo. (sarcasm)









The next few I tried different settings but the camera wanted to focus on the leaves of the bush instead of the rabbit. Finally got a few, but only two good enough to post.

Anniversary

Today's the anniversary of my mom's death. She died in the hospital one year ago today. I remember it was pouring rain most of the days in June last year, and every day that we visited her in the hospital we brought our umbrellas.*

The day of the surgery they told us it went well. Maybe it did, but she didn't get better, only worse. One of the techs at the hospital who took her out of the room for some tests told us she'd tried to slap someone the day after the surgery, so we all thought she was improving. I feel like if I only knew what had gone wrong, that I'd feel better. Intellectually I do know that's not true.

I wish that I could talk about her without crying. Not because I'm ashamed of or mind the crying, but because it's so much harder to get out all the things that I feel I need to say about her and how much I loved her if I keep interrupting myself.

I used to ask her to tell me stories about her life before she had her four kids. Most of the time she'd say something about how it wasn't all that interesting, but she'd tell me a story anyway.

My dad found me reading one of her diaries a while back, and asked me why I felt the need to read them. It took me a little while to formulate the answer to that one, but now I know. I can't get her to tell me any more stories, and reading her words is a little like that. Being able to listen to her stories again.

Anyway, if I believed in the afterlife I might take comfort in that thing people like to say to you after someone you love has died. You know, "She's in a better place, she's looking down at you now." But I don't.

My mother's legacy exists in the people that she touched, and the children that she raised. And we're all good, because of her. We're good, and I'm glad that she knew that we loved her.


*If you know anything about North Texas in the summertime, you know the odds of rain for the entire month of June. It even rained on the 4th of July last year.

My New Bunny

I originally bought a house because I had some annoying neighbors. Yippy dogs on one side and an idiot with a very loud car stereo and a penchant for Poison (in 2004!) on the other side. So I looked in the same neighborhood as my relatives for a house that I could afford. Turns out that I really couldn't afford it, but that's another story.

I found a cute little three bedroom house, about 1300 square feet and got a loan (though, let's face it, everyone got a loan in 2004) and moved. It was great, until the dog started barking on one side and the neighbor on the other side with the really loud car stereo worked on his car at all hours with his music blasting.

I know, getting to the point. So the neighbor with a dog moved out about a month ago. Yay, not as much barking! Unfortunately the dog dug a big trench under a part of my fence. So yesterday I went out to look at my horribly maintained backyard and had a need to trim the dead branches of the crepe myrtle RIGHT THEN. And something moved in the brush at my feet.

I looked a little closer and saw the tiniest bunny ever right next to my elm tree. I told my sister months ago that I don't have bunnies, and I didn't. She called me a liar, but I know that they not only did not have a way into the backyard, but I had a horrible large loud dog right next door to scare them away.

I took about six photos but in most of them the auto-focus chose the leaves instead of the fur. This one turned out the best. And he's only about four inches long.

Cicada Killers

There's a very large wasp here (probably other places too) called a cicada killer. The female wasp paralyzes a cicada with her sting and lays an egg on it in a burrow. The egg hatches and the larva feeds on the cicada.

With all the noise around here lately, I'm wishing for a few more cicada killers. Unfortunately for me, each wasp only kills between 10 and 20 cicadas, which won't help me stave off insanity.

I was over at my Dad's today and caught one digging her burrow. Maybe I can get some closer photos tomorrow.

Famous Photos

I found this via Wil Wheaton. Coolness.

Take a look:























It doesn't hurt that I got a set of Lego's for my 22nd birthday.

More Bad Camera

Here are a few nice abstract shots from my car.

Bad Camera

In January I bought a small pink camera for a class that I was taking. I was supposed to use a cellphone camera, but since I don't have a camera in my cellphone and I barely use the cellphone, I decided not to buy one. Rather, I picked up this little Disney model for $20. I should have bought this one because it says "forever a princess" on it.

Anyway, it takes really crappy but fun photos like the one from before of my cat. Here's a slightly more cat-like version of said cat.

Plans for ComicCon

My brother Brad and I are going to Comic-Con in San Diego in July. We're renting a house on the beach, which I'm almost more excited about than the actual Con.

Mostly I'm a giant comic book fan, and I can't wait to meet Paul Chadwick, Bill Willingham and Bill Sienkiewicz. Paul Chadwick wrote and drew Concrete, Bill Willingham wrote and drew Elementals and now writes Fables, and Bill Sienkiewicz did a stint on the New Mutants way back in the '80s and has some really great surrealistic art. I wish that I could meet David Mack or Jill Thompson or Charles Vess or Neil Gaiman. Not on the lists though. *sigh* If you're at all interested in the line-up of artists, you can look at the list for Artist's Alley.

Brad said he's going to bring his laptop, so I'll try to take lots of photos and post from there. There should be some great people watching, and my niece if even making a costume.

I guess I won't have any way to deny geek tags ever again.

My Dad

If any of you have read the main page here, you know that my mom died last year. I'm still dealing with that. I know that I've not DEALT with it because I still talk about her in the present tense. How long does it take? Not a real question btw.

They probably have a Grieving for Dummies book, right? Of course they do.

To continue, in March my father fell down. Wait, maybe he tripped in the garage. Or, maybe, he had a stroke but lied about it and continued to lie about it for two weeks, during which he didn't tell any of us that he could no longer use his right hand or walk with any coordination or drive.

I spent Spring Break taking my dad to various doctor's appointments. We went to the GP, the hospital for an MRI, the cardiologist and the cardiologist again for two sonograms.

Turns out my dad's mostly fine. Did you know that if you don't get to the hospital within an hour of having a stroke that it will do all its damage, but if you get there sooner that medication can lessen the severity? Apparently the left side of the brain controls speech, so he got lucky there.

My dad's regaining fine motor control, if slowly. He can drive now, and started cooking again, which he loves but can't do as well without control of his right hand. He still can't write, so sometimes I help write checks and things. He's changed his diet and has lost more than 30 pounds.

The anniversary of my mother's death is coming up. My sisters are divided about how to spend the day, and my dad said to me today that all things considered, he'd just as soon his house smelled of my mother's cigarettes.

I totally understand the impulse to be alone, but maybe that's not a good idea. Maybe we should be together to support each other and not feel both sad and alone at the same time. I'm pretty sure that my mother would tell us to quit being stupid and spend time together, and to make sure and use her camera and take lots of photos of her grandchildren. And then she'd say to leave her alone and let her finish her book and her cigarette in peace.

The book she started but never finished? "Love Kills" by Edna Buchanan.

Update

Hi. It's been a while. A lot has happened since I was posting regularly on this blog. I've missed it, but been unable to get myself to write or do much of anything in the past year other than things which seemed unavoidable. Like paying bills and going to work. Or, since school's been out for a bit, sleeping a lot.

But, I want to do more, become engaged in the world, at least the online world, again. So, diva, chris, Carmi, and any one else who may still be paying attention, I'm back. Talk to you soon.

Dating sites

Some questions brought up by my pathetic self trolling dating websites mere days from my 39th(!) birthday.

What the hell happened to all those guys who say, "Any honest women?" and "no games" or my favorite, "no drama." They might as well say "no relationships" if they think that they're not going to have lies, drama and games. No one is that honest or laid back.

How many inches should I take off of a guy's listed height on his profile? Is that guy who claims to be 5' 7" really 5' 6" or 5' 5"? Or are guys honest about that?


And what does all this mean?
I'm a good guy. I open doors when necessary but won't go out of my way. I will pay for the first date but am counting on you to be a big girl and take care of yourself. When I say I will call I will but won't call you five times a day. I can listen to you gripe about others just don't gripe at me. I respect your space...please respect mine. I'm witty but not going to show someone up.

Here's my interpretation:
If I feel like it, I'll be nice.
My ex spent every dime I made, and there's nothing left.
Don't call me.
You aren't allowed to complain about anything that I do.
You aren't ever going to stay the night.
I'm not that smart and I don't like it when people get the better of me in conversation.

I'm feeling a little mean. That's probably not the right mood in which to find a date.

My Girl

My first cat's turning 17. That's older than most of my students. Here's a blurry but cool photo of her that I took the other day.

Comic-Con, International

Total dork that I am, I have already purchased passes to Comic-Con in San Diego. There will be a lot of special guests, and in buying the passes early I get to go to the preview night.

I'm hoping to meet some of the creators of my favorite comic books. I know that last year it was a showcase for lots of movie and tv show crap, but mostly I want to meet writers and artists.

My brother, my niece and I are going to rent a house on the beach and stay for a couple of weeks. It should be pretty cool, except that Chloe and Cletus can't bring the little Cletus, because by then Chloe will be almost nine months pregnant with future little Chloe.

At least I know that since the Texas state legislature has interfered in school start dates I won't have to start work until the end of August instead of the beginning.

I have to go run some errands now, because tonight I have an appointment with an XBOX 360 guitar controller and Rock Band. I'm the fill-in bassist for the band, and I'm practicing so I can take over when the regular guy gets carpal tunnel.

Sexist Attitudes

So the niece was over the other day, and she picked out some movies to watch. These included Blade Runner and Chasing Amy. We watched Chasing Amy over at Brad and Jenny's house.

Near the end of the movie, the protagonist, Holden finds out that his girlfriend Alyssa has had more sexual experiences than he, and with multiple partners. Male partners. He previously had thought that she was a lesbian with no experience with men, but he didn't flinch at that.

He confronts her at a hockey game, and they have a screaming fight about it. He tells her that he doesn't understand how she could have those kind of sexual experiences as a teenager, and how could she do it, those guys were using her. She screams back at him that, no, she was using them. He admits later on a feeling of inadequacy, that he somehow must have an equal number of sexual exploits and also they must be somehow equivalent in kink as well.

And after that scene I had to do engage in some self reflection. I realized that I've bought into that attitude of misogyny that teenage girls are unable to consent to sexual encounters, that only the boys possess the agency to consent. That only boys really want to engage in sex when they're teenagers. Though I know intellectually that's not true.

I don't think that I blamed boys for any sex acts that I engaged in, I haven't been resenting any of my former partners for "making me" do things with them. I had the ability to consent in my life. But at the moment that Holden tells Alyssa that those boys were using her, I agreed with him. I couldn't see the other side of the dynamic there, that Alyssa wanted or needed to explore her sexuality, and that she hadn't somehow been degraded and used by the experience of having sex with two boys at once.

I've been struggling with myself, trying to figure out not only what I think about myself and sex, but also why I think it. And what influence have movies and popular culture had on these attitudes? Do I think, as many in America seem to think, that women are submissive victims and that men are predatory?

I was watching Law & Order SVU last night. It was the one from this week about a teenage boy who sodomized another boy and raped three little girls. The defense attorney blamed an ever-present media that obsesses over sex and argued an insanity defense. The boy saw sex everywhere and merely wanted to emulate what he saw. Which might have worked as a defense for me, except that seeing sex everywhere doesn't correlate, in my opinion, with wanting to do violence. Sex and rape are two very different things, and to say that exposure to images of sex makes a child want to brutalize and rape other children ignores the difference between the two.

On the show, Detective Stabler speaks to the ADA about the prevalence of sex on TV and the internet, how it's available all the time to anyone who wants to see it. But he doesn't talk about porn movie theaters or the availability of DVD's or HBO and other cable stations. He mentions women. He says that his boy grew up right because he, the detective had protected him. He had protected his son from "girls who wear Hustler t-shirts" to school, Jenna Jameson and the evil Britney Spears and Paris Hilton.

So, I'm confused. Which is it? Are girls unable to consent to sex or are they responsible for the corruption of boys? Are Britney and Paris undermining the morals of the nation? What about all the male celebrities who carouse and drive drunk? Are they only not noteworthy because they don't flash pussy? Surely there are some paparazzi out there who've captured some of the men whipping it out.

I'm not sure that this post is cohesive. Maybe it should be split into two different topics, but it was all on my mind. What do you think?

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year

It's been almost six months since my last post here. Wow, time flies. And stays extraordinarily still at the same time.

So, Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to all. Raise a glass to my mom, if you're so inclined. I think she'd like that. Maybe have a smoke too, just to taunt the gods, and then say "fuck" to make it a Kate's mom trifecta.

It was hard to not talk about her today, but harder still to say more than "Here's to Mom." I am however, grateful to all the friends and family who've supported me/us in the last six months. It would have been so much harder without you, and I love you all.

My Mother

My mother died two weeks ago. She had a heart condition, and at the end of June she went into the hospital for valve replacement surgery and didn't come out.
These are the words that I spoke at her memorial.

My Mother

Not everyone loved my mother.
The cashier at Wal-Mart didn’t.
She bought a magazine, then remembered something else she wanted and went right back to the front of the line.

The nurse at her doctor’s office asked my mother's doctor a question when my mother left. “Why was that woman mad at you?”

My mother got mad at me once for putting a supermarket cart back in the rack.
“What are you doing that for?” She said.
“Because my mother taught me to put things back.” I replied.
“No, she didn’t.” She said.

My mother gave me a tip about dating, that she said she got from her mother.
“Go out with anyone who asks you, because you never know who their friends are.”

My mother took us to get library cards the moment we moved into our house.
She went to the library every week and would get at least a dozen books.
She'd have to take at least four of them back because she’d already read them.

My mother grew up on a farm, and she hated home-made things.
Books were the best gifts, so we got her a club card from Barnes and Noble.

We loved her. Anyone who spent time with her remembered her, and they appreciated her. Some of the things people have told us over the past few days have included these words: wonderful, infectious laughter, voracious reading, quick wit, proud of her family,
interesting subject for a biography.

My mother loved Judge Judy, and Solitaire and Free Cell. She loved pictures of flowers, yellow roses, and grilled cheese sandwiches.

She loved her family, and raised us in a way that helped us to be who we are, independent and self-sufficient.

One day as we watched Oprah talking to a mother and daughter having problems, my mother said she didn’t understand why the mother would spend all of her time obsessing about and interfering in her daughter’s life.

I told her, “Well, you could be like that mother, but then you’d have to put down your book and get up off the couch.”
Then my mother laughed, her loud laugh, and admitted that I was probably right.

Carolina

Carolina told me a story today. She's 15, and she was born in Mexico. She had an argument with her history teacher about whether or not she's an American. She says she's not, she's proud to be from Mexico and to have lived there until she was ten.

One day, right after her fourth birthday, Carolina and her cousins felt eyes watching them while playing on the patio of her house in Mexico. Something watched them from the trees. Her cousins got frightened and started to run away. They yelled at Carolina to run away too, but she wasn't fast enough. A bruja flew down from a tree and swooped her up.

The bruja flew Carolina to a cave, put her down and made her sing and dance and tell stories to the other witches there. Carolina did what they told her, and after a while she lay down to sleep. She woke in the grass of her backyard near the patio of her family's house. She had been with the brujas all night.

Carolina went indoors to see her mama and papa. They said, "Which cousin took you home?" Carolina told them what had happened, that she'd been gone all night. She asked her cousins why they didn't tell her parents about the bruja. The cousins all said that they were afraid they'd get beaten if they told what happened.

Then Carolina looked at me and said, "No one believes me when I tell that story, but it really did happen to me."

Tales of Teenage Trouble

I got invited to prom today. One of my male students told me he doesn't have a date. Then he said, "Miss, will you go to prom with me?"

I said, "No offense, but ewww. I'm way too old for you, and I'm your teacher."

The girls at the table closest to me started to giggle, and said, "Miss, that was mean!"

I didn't think so, but when I told my mom she said, "You didn't say 'eww' to his face, did you?"

My students seem awfully concerned with my personal life. Who am I dating, and if not, why don't I have a boyfriend? Do I go to the clubs? How do I dance? Do I like cheese?* Do I think the principal's hot? Would I date the principal if he wasn't married? Would I date the principal and break up his marriage if I knew he was the love of my life?

Perhaps their next step will be to set me up with their relatives.



*For those of you that don't know, cheese is a drug combination of heroin and Tylenol PM. They were trying to trick me into saying that I do drugs.

Fun with Hot Glue

Did you know that high school students will take the opportunity to glue anything to anything else? There are my two self-proclaimed "geniuses" who insist on making Elmer's glue hands every chance they get, and the rest of them seem about as mature.

So far I've had a chair and some quarters hot-glued to the floor, a surge protector and another quarter glued to the table, and just the other day another two mental giants decided to put hot glue on themselves at exactly the same time and see who made a face or made a noise first. 'Cuz the name didn't warn them.

According to one of them, "It didn't turn out like I thought it would."

So, to sum up, they all appear to be of superior intelligence. And, on Tuesday, the little darlings take the state assessment.

Thankfully I'm not responsible for the remediation after the test. Though I did need to remind them that hot things MIGHT burn. Guess what project I'm not doing next year?

It's My Birthday

It's my birthday. I'm old. I'm almost forty, and not in the When Harry Met Sally "I'm almost forty," "Yeah, in eight years," kind of way.

I didn't even get carded yesterday when I bought a case of Shiner and some Oreos at the grocery store yesterday. The checkout guy said, "Did you find everything?" and I said, "What else would I need?"

Brad, Chloe, Jenny and I had some friends over at Jenny's house last night for beer and pizza. After discovering that Macaroni Grill couldn't seat a party of eight for at least an hour and a half, though they don't take reservations.

It was nice to see them, and we had a good time. We ate and drank and then played tennis on the Wii. They bowled and I watched. If any of them are reading, thanks for the birthday wishes. I love you guys.

Today I'm going to enjoy living in my own place, and later go have some cake and ice cream over at Mom and Dad's. When I get back, I expect to see that the rest of you have tidied up some. Or there won't be cake for you.

Stupid, Stupid Rat Creatures

Boston police and government officials are now officially stupider than other police and government officials across the country. They responded to a marketing ploy as a terrorist plot. All of you have heard about that, no doubt, but I just read this on Yahoo! News.

Now Cartoon Network and TNT all share in the stupidity. I'm just sayin'.

My Artist Plan

The spider monkey's let up a bit, so I'm feeling a little relaxed. Until both my co-teachers didn't come to work today. It's rough trying to make sure my stuff gets done and other people's does too. At least I got to use my planning period for my stuff instead of covering classes.

I've been contemplating several types of goals, and knowing myself, short term seems to work better. I had earlier thought that I could do the Photo 365 thing like on Photojojo but apparently I suck at long term commitments like that. I think that I got 5 consecutive days and then screwed it all up.

I still plan on posting those photos that I did take somewhere though. So, here's the unbaked cookies.

Draw daily (or just more).
Have a monthly focus.
Edit National Novel Writing Month novel from 2004.
Use and become familiar with my digital camera.

Got some goals for yourself?

I'm Back

My new job's like a ravenous spider monkey, taking all my energy and using all its limbs to hold me down. But I'm breaking free, and it can't stop me.

I've missed blogging, and I've been thinking about restarting for at least a month, but it just didn't happen. Why is a question for years of analysis, that would probably say I didn't have a good relationship with my mother as a child. My mother, with a book in one hand and a cigarette in the other, who's burned almost everything she owns yet never started a fire, done me wrong. Okay, not really. She's actually pretty cool for a loud, rude New York Protestant.

I'm going to make some goals. Some pretty cool people have done that resolution thing, and as I am a follower, I ask: Where's the bandwagon?

I'm a bit late, first of February and all, but as with my every day life, better late than never.

Stay tuned for more in the continuing saga of Kate's Developmental Disorder, or How to Make Plans that Never Come to Fruition, Part II.

Christ Has Something to Tell Me*

Discover yourself message HOPE brings presented own time. Watch motion picture. Receive precious Read story Story bad things about Why Learn about: Reality Hell Religions Compared Bible: About Creation amp Evolution CONTACT follower friendly discreet personal DO YOU HAVE WEB PAGE SHARE THIS WITH

will. please when act more. NEXT: Are enough get Answer SURE answer extremely important question View video online min. Discover yourself message HOPE brings presented own time. Watch motion picture. Receive precious Read story Story bad things about Why Learn about: Reality Hell Religions Compared Bible: About Creation amp Evolution

amp Evolution CONTACT follower friendly discreet personal DO YOU HAVE WEB PAGE SHARE THIS WITH YOUR VISITORS available various special link directly URL: Webmaster courtesy graphics code further has been help tens thousands people.

more. NEXT: Are enough get Answer SURE answer extremely important question View video online min. Discover yourself message HOPE brings presented own time. Watch motion picture. Receive precious Read story Story bad things about Why Learn about: Reality Hell Religions Compared Bible: About Creation amp Evolution CONTACT follower friendly discreet personal DO YOU HAVE WEB PAGE SHARE THIS WITH YOUR VISITORS available various special link directly URL: Webmaster courtesy

required. As come better will. please when act more. NEXT: Are enough get Answer SURE answer extremely important question View video online min. Discover yourself message HOPE brings presented own time. Watch motion picture. Receive precious Read story Story bad things about Why Learn about: Reality Hell Religions Compared Bible: About Creation amp Evolution CONTACT follower friendly discreet personal DO YOU HAVE WEB PAGE SHARE THIS WITH YOUR VISITORS available various special link directly URL: Webmaster courtesy graphics

important question View video online min. Discover yourself message HOPE brings presented own time. Watch motion picture. Receive precious Read story Story bad things about Why Learn about: Reality Hell Religions Compared Bible: About Creation amp Evolution CONTACT follower friendly discreet personal DO YOU HAVE WEB PAGE SHARE THIS WITH YOUR VISITORS available various special link directly URL: Webmaster courtesy graphics code further has been help tens thousands people. In midst their busy lives full

live with heaven. must accept His gift cannot earned. Believe your savior whom access Father. Your faith required. As come better will. please when act more. NEXT: Are enough get Answer SURE answer extremely important question View video online min. Discover yourself message HOPE brings presented own time. Watch motion picture. Receive precious Read story Story bad

*but it's apparently in code.

Another Job

I interviewed with the art supervisor of the district last week. Then the principal's secretary called me and I interviewed with him and his "associate principal." They're both younger than me, btw.

The school's not in white suburban central, which is good, but it's undergoing renovation, which isn't so good. They need someone right away, but I haven't heard anything in the last few days.

Then, this week, I got another call. The art supervisor from my most recent job called me to tell me of an opening that might happen in October, and asked me to come in and interview with her. We talked for an hour and a half. Turns out the current teacher's letting the kids have all the power. Not good, but also sometimes easy to let happen.

So I've got two opportunities here. To be honest, part of me's kinda mad. I'd already made peace with the fact that I'm no longer a teacher in a public school. Now, apparently the universe has other plans for me, or it's all some big cosmic bait and switch to pull my attention away from the plans I'd made outside the public school arena.

But I'm trying to be positive here. I'll get a pay raise, and it'll be a new school and a totally different experience.

Also, two of my friends have recently announced that they're expecting. One of whom tried over and over, so that's good. Another of whom I'm proud to know. And her husband too.

Congratulations seem to be in order a lot today.

Jobs

I quit my job in June. Then I changed my mind, but there wasn't another available. Then I had a plan to find a sponsor, like a Nascar driver, to find a corporation to pay me to teach art. That didn't pan out (yet), but I'm scheduled to teach some classes at an arts and crafts store.

Yesterday a school district called. They need an Art teacher for a high school. In the middle of September. Which almost never happens.

So I have an interview tomorrow. I'm trying to stay detached, but it's hard not to make imaginary plans in my head of what I'm going to do if I get the job. Especially since I'll get a substantial pay increase.

Wish me luck.

Happy Birthday Melleners!

Happy Birthday Melleners!

Why don't you mosey on over to my favorite music blog and wish her many happy returns? You don't have to mention I sent you, just pretend you knew already.

How Creative Can Stacking Paper Be?

That's currently my life. Stacking sheets of paper. I'm creating sculptures out of binder clips, I'm so bored. Thankfully the people where I work are very nice. But I'm a temp and I'm trying not to get attached.

I was all ready for last Friday to be my last day, but they decided they need me one more week. They let me check files out and stack them at home so that I can do my other job too. Which has taken me more than a month to go through the application process, and I'm still not sure when I'll start, if ever.

I'm tired. I came up with an idea for Illustration Friday's topic for "safe." It's not exactly PC, but I think it's apropos. Go to Distilled if you'd like to see it.

Lute Riley Honda Sucks

I took my car with the ailing a/c to the dealership in Dallas. They told me it was the condenser, and it would cost $440, but that they wanted to give me a deal and so they'd take $100 off to make it $340. I arranged my appointment, and thought no more of it.

The day of the appointment arrived. I drove to the dealershipo at about 6:45 in the morning and arranged for their free shuttle to take me to work and pick me up again.

While at work, the service guy called me. He said they'd definitely found the problem, which made me feel relief. I'd already replaced the compressor at about $900 and the a/c electrical panel for $350. He told me that the service normally runs $540, but that with the $100 of that I'd be getting a great deal at $440.

I said, "That's not what you said before. That quote's gone up $100 since Saturday."

He insisted that he'd said no such thing, and that it wasn't possible that he would make a mistake like that. I told him to make the repairs anyway, and finished my work and waited for the shuttle.

At the dealership I pointed out to the service guy that he'd not said anything near $500. He said he remembered, but that he'd go talk to his manager and see if he could do anything else for me. My car wasn't yet ready, so I waited in the waiting room.

The service guy came back, and gave me the dealership line of all dealership lines, "My manager was standing right next to me, and he heard me quote you the higher price."

I pressed him some more, but he didn't budge. I ended up having to pay $420. But, oh joy, I got a coupon for a free oil change.

So Lute Riley lies. Get your quotes in writing.

Let's ban everything from air travel

I never really understood the term "clockwatcher" until this week. I've been temping at a bank, doing what's called "stacking files." I'm taking mortgage files and taking everything out and putting it back in the correct order. I keep it consistent with a series of slipsheets with headings and check boxes on them. Asleep yet?

At work today my two co-workers were talking about the terrorists that the British apprehended. One of them is afraid to fly. The other one wants to know why the airlines couldn't anticipate this threat and ban liquids sooner. Then the first one said that she doesn't know why Homeland Security can't keep us secure.

I'll tell you why. Hindsight only works one way. I can't express very well at the moment how I feel about all the panic, but here's a passage from The Liquid World by William Saletan at Slate.

"That's the bottom line: We die. In a liquid world, you can't seal off evil. All you can do is fight liquid with liquid. You have to absorb the tragedy, flowing around and through it. You need the strength of a river, not a rock. You need resilience. You can't be untouchable, but you can be undefeated."

. . .

A Job

I have a temporary job. In Dallas. At a mortgage place. Stacking files.

In case you couldn't tell, I'm SUPER excited. I get to drive through rush hour traffic tomorrow while everyone's taking their kids to school. Then I get to stay there until 5:30. That's gonna be weird. I can't remember the last time I worked hours like that.

School hours were 7:30-3:30. Mostly. Let's see if I don't end up murdering someone at the end of the three week period.

Actually, I'd just like to kill whoever made the decision to make the employees of this place take a drug test. Nothing makes you feel like a criminal quite like handing someone else a cup of your urine.

My Life Plan

I'm jobless. I quit my job and now am unemployed. School for the actual teachers starts tomorrow, and it's the first time in eight years that I won't be there.

I expected to be really sad about it, but other than feeling a faint urge to go to school anyway, I'm not sad.

Instead, I'm planning on being my own boss. I've been writing a business plan and it's going really well. I'm spending a lot of time on the internet doing research on businesses, marketing and selling and social networking.

I found this site called dandelife that I'm having a great time playing with. It's like a blog but it incorporates all your titles into a timeline, and you can add tags too. It's fun, go look.

Boys, again, are dumb

My roommate notices very little. We have, in fact, had long conversations about the things he doesn't notice. He says it's because they're ultimately not important. Not my position, but sometimes arguing about it takes too much effort.

We were in the car and passed a pretty crepe myrtle. I mentioned how I like them, but not the bright pink ones. I told him that I was pretty sure I knew the answer, but did he notice that the crepe myrtle in our backyard had bloomed, and was of the fuschia persuasion.

He said something similar to "There's a crepe myrtle in the backyard?"and then I pointed out that the crepe myrtle occupies the side of the driveway that he pulls his car into. He said no, he hadn't noticed the color. Just then we pulled into the driveway and I pointed at the shrub and the blossoms overhanging the fence.

He looked up at the side of the garage and said, "What happened to the fixtures on the wall? Why aren't there any lightbulbs up there?"

I started to laugh, hysterically, and it took a moment for me to catch my breath and reply. "Bear," I said, "you're the one who removed the lightbulbs for me, so I could buy new ones."

"Oh." he said. "When did I do that?"

Apparently, there have been deeds. . .

. . . and I should be telling you of them.

Okay, so the other night I was getting ready for bed. I was in my room taking my clothes off, and just as I had taken off my bra, in flies a gigantic black bug.

At first I thought it was a wasp, so I backed away from it, but then, clutching my unhooked bra to my chest, I noticed that it wasn't flying like one and that it looked an awful lot like a cockroach.

I searched around desperately for something to fling over myself to make the short, but very visible, trip into the kitchen to get the flyswatter, and finally found a t-shirt.

I saw the bug on the floor about to go under my bed, and pushed Calvin The Giant-Fly-Eater toward it, but the loser turned up his nose. I ran to the kitchen and grabbed the flyswatter, but the bug had disappeared. I used the flyswatter and a flashlight to search, but no go.

This made me not want to sleep in my room. I've woken up with a cockroach on my pillow before, and I didn't want that to happen again. Reluctantly, I decided to get over it and sleep in my bed despite my fear.

I woke the next morning to my lovely kittens, called The Brothers Dim by some, mauling the laundry basket. They'd found the wonderfully un-cockroachy beetle, and I captured it and put it outside.

Enough deed for you, o' pushy one?

To Remind Chris and the Diva

It's been a while, but here are the things I wrote down that I must remind you:

Read Lamb by Christopher Moore

Next time that you're in Paris, go to Shakespeare & Co, the book store.

Drawing

A very sad article in the New York Times about the ubiquity of amateur drawing in times past. You might need to register to read it.

France Photos

So I've been experimenting with my photos in Photoshop. I know that it's slightly cheesy, but I love me some filtered goodness. I also have a program called Thumbs Plus, which I can't recommend highly enough. It's the first program I ever used to organize and rename photos.

I've used Picasa also, and it's okay, but Thumbs Plus uses your current directory structure and I find it easier to locate and add things. It's not free, but totally worth the price.

Here's some of my experiments:

This porch in Arles really got our attention. Though it was so hot that I thought my eyes were going to boil out of my head.
I increased the saturation by at least 50, then used median to blur and then the watercolor filter.









This scene from the cliff at Les Baux captured the countryside perfectly. I used the same filters/effects here. I find that using the watercolor filter by itself makes for a much duller picture.








This is the cloister from the insane asylum in St. Remy where van Gogh lived for a while.
I used Thumbs Plus for this one. It's got a filter called Drawing, and it looks similar to the Photoshop filter called Photocopy.

New, New Me

Okay, so you can edit the date if you press the little button. No, I'm not simple. Just a bit focused on my annoyances.

I like this other photo better.

Matisse

I love Matisse. He's great with line, great with color, and he kept on creating until he died. So did Georgia O'Keeffe, but then she went blind.

Matisse's grave is in Nice, near the Matisse Museum. We went to the museum, and then tried to follow the signs to his grave but almost didn't find the actual stone. You have to go through the crypts, past the other crypts on the same level, and then go down the stairs. It's a beautiful spot, almost as peaceful as Monet's garden.

Anyway, photos.







Matisse's grave

















Monet's garden

New Me

Trying to add a photo to my profile. Did you know that you can't edit the date on your posts anymore? Not happy about that.

Customs

On a quest for blogs of drawings, for some reason I ended up at Escape Blog, a travel blog which has this hilarious entry dealing with the attitudes a newly married woman should have for sex.

It also has descriptions of all kinds of traditions in other cultures. I'm going to go read some more.

More Shots of France

I went to France two years ago, and spent a few days in Paris. That trip was go-go-go, and I thought this one might be a little more relaxed. It was. A little.

Anyway, my sister and I had a really good time, except for one hotel problem which I'll address later.

We got lost(ish) in the Louvre looking for something that's actually in the Orsay.










This sculpture's actually on one of the outside walls of the Louvre. If you've got Google Earth (which I recommend highly as a fabulous time-eater), then you can see the wall and the Pyramid from above.






This photo's from a market in a small town in Provence. LOVED the markets! I wish that I knew how to set one up in my town. It's just bougie enough to love and support one.







Take a close look at the photo, and you can see the test tubes they were using to package the spices. I didn't buy any of those, but I did get some wonderful roasted almonds and some strawberries.


In two years or so, we'll be going back to Europe. I don't know where yet, because my niece gets to choose, and she doesn't know what she wants to see mostly because she doesn't know what's out there. Probably Spain or Italy.

Where's the best place you ever took a vacation? Got any photos to share?

Back from France

My sister Jenny and I have been back from France for a week. It's been a short week.

We had some great times, some not so great times, and I took more than 400 photos. That's nothing compared to someone I know who took more than 700 photos, but hopefully I'll get copies of those. I finally finished numbering and renaming all the photos. That's slightly tedious, but I'll bet not as much as loading all of them onto the internet.

Here's a small sample of what we did/saw:

The Arc de Triomphe





















Notre Dame de Paris

















The Eiffel Tower




















More to come later.

In the Airport

A woman with blond hair barely confined by a kerchief looks at you. You look back, thinking how pretty she is.

She says, "Can I read you a poem?"

You say, "Okay."

Your sister says, "My sister really likes poetry."

And then you say, "That has to be the strangest thing anyone's ever asked me in an airport."

She reads to the both of you a wonderful poem by Mary Oliver.

When she is done, you think that you've never had such an experience before, and wish that more days could have a moment like this one.

You tell her your name, and she says, "I'm Abby. I read that in this book and I just had to share it with someone."

You and your sister spend some time talking with Abby and then she leaves to catch her flight to New York. You realize that few things in your life will equal the oddity and beauty of being read a poem by a stranger in an airport.



12/10/2011 EDITED to change link, the old link stopped working so I added one to Wikipedia instead.

Painting my suitcase cont.

Here are the rest of the photos. I've detailed the sea monster, added some texture to the continent and water and then aged it all.

Painting my suitcase

My sister bought me a wonderful set of luggage right before I went to Italy in 2002. A carry-on, a small case with wheels and a large case with wheels. Only problem is, it's the same color as everyone else's luggage. So I decided to paint it.

I love old maps, so I'm painting a map of Europe on it. I'm going to include a compass rose and a sea monster. Here's the progress so far.

Going on Vacation

So, I'm leaving on Friday for France. My sister Jenny and I will be visiting Paris, the lovely French countryside and also the Riviera. I'm pretty excited about it.

I'm traveling with my teacher from college. I've been on three other trips with her over the past six years, and I've enjoyed every one. This one will be my second to Paris. I'm going to need to go to Italy again. Really loved that one best, even though it was the hottest. I think it was about 100 degrees in Pompeii on the day we went.

This sign greeted us on the way to our hotel from the train station in Paris in 2004:


Wow, doesn't it just make you want to go in and get some pancakes! To be fair, though, I didn't have any bad food while in Paris. And I'm a very picky eater.

I'm going to try to blog and draw but we'll see how that goes.

Anybody want a souvenir? Maybe a kebab?

I Bought an iPod

Jumping on the bandwagon, that's me.

But, I just have to say. . .

IT'S SO COOL!

My Mother was a Selfish Bitch

One of the best things that my mother ever did for me was be a selfish bitch. Sometimes I really hated her. Especially when she sat on the couch and directed me and my siblings efforts to clean the living room.

But I realize now that she probably did it sometimes because she was trying to teach us self-reliance and independence. Other times she just wanted to sit on her ass and not clean up after us. My mother taught me to cook on the stove at nine. I started doing my own laundry and eleven. Not because she had a job, but because she was trying to give us ourselves and diminish some of her own domestic workload. (I understand this impulse, as living with any man seems to increase a woman's work.)

The reason I bring this up is because of a kid in one of my classes named Jake. He's got a blended family. Dad, stepmom, stepbrother and two brothers live together, and then his mom in another house. (Not sure if she re-married or not.) Recently he gave me trouble in art class. He disregards my suggestions, even when they're not really suggestions.

When told to add a background to a drawing of a wooden figure, he added a primitive looking goal post and wouldn't put any more details. His excuse was "But, I don't know what to do."

On his papier mache project, he refused to add more layers because, "we're moving and I'm going to have to throw it away anyway." When I was sick and had a substitute near the end of the project, some of the newspaper additions that he'd taped on fell off. Instead of retaping them, he pulled them all the way off and like that'd be enough.

I mentioned Jake's name to his teacher, and she told me about an incident that happened this year. Jake's dad and stepmom planned a vacation in another state. Jake decided that he didn't like the destination and refuse to go. His parents let him stay at his mother's house instead of going on the trip with the rest of the family.

I don't know about you, but I would have tied his ass to the car. Why did his parent's let him make the choice? What happened to the parents, in Calvin and Hobbes' words, as "Supreme Dictators for Life?" There's no way that my parents, particularly my mom, would have let me get away with that.

I worry about this kid. Jake's got no independence, no self-esteem, and every task's just an opportunity to argue with someone about why he doesn't need to do it.

Sure my mom was a selfish bitch. But I'm a better person because of it.

Matt Roush Rocks

I used to get TV Guide every week. My favorite part of that was always Matt Roush's column, because he recognizes quality shows but doesn't always pick the shows that are the critic's darlings, and thus sometimes unwatchable.

At the end of a review of the season finales of both Veronica Mars and Gilmore Girls, he had this to say:

"(Finally, I had meant to address the series finale of 7th Heaven in this space as well. But I couldn’t make it through five minutes without feeling like I was gagging on a curdled vanilla smoothie.)"

Jury Duty

I didn't go to school today. About a month ago, a letter came to my parent's house for me. I was being called for municipal jury duty. They called me for municipal jury duty a few years ago. I didn't go, but I guess I don't have a warrant or a fine or anything, because they had me captive today and no one said anything.

I woke up early and called the number on the letter. According to it, sometimes they settle the cases before the jury arrives and then you don't even have to drive to the courthouse. The recorded message did not give me the desired outcome, so I finished getting ready and left.

Unlike jury duty for the county, which takes place in the courthouse in the county seat about 20 miles away from my house, this one was an easy drive and I didn't have to search four blocks four a parking space. I got a good spot under a tree and went up the steps.

The bailiffs searched my purse and ran me through a metal detector, and then let me go sit in the courtroom for about an hour. I've sat in industrial furniture more comfortable than the pews in that room. I read my book and waited. I tend to keep to myself in situations like that. I'm a really shy person, at least initially, and so I didn't talk to anyone.

After the bailiff gave us a 10 minute warning, the attorneys came into the courtroom. A short woman with dark hair and an interesting interpretation of a suit, and this hot guy in a great suit. The good-looking guy had almost a shaved head. He was pretty enough to carry off the stupid little soul patch.

So I thought, "Ooh, hot lawyer, dresses well," and tried to get a look at his ring finger for the next ten minutes. When not concentrating on my book, that was.

Then came the judge, and she sat down and introduced the parties at the attorney tables, and then the prosecutor got up to start the voir dire. She asked people about their experiences with speeding tickets and we got to hear some pretty funny stories from some of the people. She also asked about any ill will that we as potential jurors might feel toward the police.

She almost ignored me and the other two people with me on the far side of the courtroom, which didn't distress me at all. Then she noticed that she was pressed for time and the judge got ready to give us a break before the seating of the jury. Right before she let us go, the judge asked us if we would hold it against someone for representing themselves.

I paused for just a second to process, and then thought, "Oh, he's hot but stupid. Too bad."

After the break the judge called six jurors, and dismissed the rest of us. I wouldn't have minded being chosen, if only to see if the defendant did have a fool for a client.

Offline

I've been offline for almost a week. Apparently the power company decided to turn off the power. My computer objected, and then, pouting over the mistreatment, refused to turn back on.

It's back now, thanks to my wonderful brother Brad and one of my friends who supplied the parts. Needed a new power supply.

I've got a couple of drawings to post over at Distilled in a bit, but for now you can see a Photoshop experiment inspired by Drawn!.

Hope everyone's having a good weekend.

A Letter To My Niece

Here's an excerpt from the first letter that I wrote to my niece. The first one had only text, the second had images too. I'll post something from the second one soon.

Dear Niece,
Hi. How are you?
It’s Saturday, and I’ve done all my errands for the day. It’s very humid out, and it
started to sprinkle on my car as I left the pharmacy for home. It’s been a long time since I just put my hand out to feel the rain, so I rolled down the window and stuck my hand out. The rain wasn’t cold, but I didn’t keep my hand out long. Just long enough to feel a few drops and wonder if the people in the other cars noticed and thought it strange.

It's more boring than I remembered. Going to have to work on that bit. I read through it a couple of times to make sure that there wasn't something better to post, and there wasn't.

To see the image that I sent to my nephew, go to my other blog, Distilled.

Letters to the Niece and Nephew

I was thinking the other day how much I used to love to go get the mail. When I was little definitely, and then later on when I had pen pals. I had a pen pal in England at one time, and another in Trinidad. I lost touch with the British one when she got married and the other one because I/we just stopped writing.

I want my niece and nephew to like getting the mail, so I decided that I'm going to write them letters and cards, and try to include some drawings and things too.

So far, I've written one letter to my niece. She's fourteen, so I can just write to her. The nephew's only one though, so I thought I might put more drawings than writing.

It's been more difficult than I thought it would be, but I'm working on it. I'm about to send the second letter to the niece and the first one to the nephew. I've drawn some pictures for him and put a description on the back. I told my sister, and she said she likes the idea.

I'll post excerpts at Distilled soon.

Behavior

Our school has something called behavior charts. When a student shows problems with behavior, meetings happen, parents and experts get consulted, and sometimes the committee decides to give the student a behavior chart.

The chart usually targets no more than three behaviors. For example, one student's headings might read: respects teacher/classmates, remains in own area, follows directions. Then the teacher writes some kind of symbol to indicate compliance or non-compliance, such as stars and x's.

One of my students with no boundaries at home forgot his chart when he came to class. One of the goals of the chart is to guide students to being responsible by remembering to carry it with them. As the student had not brought his chart on a previous day, I wrote x's on his chart for non-compliance.

The next morning, he came into my room with his chart. He held it out at me, and said "Here," with a very smug look on his face. I glanced down and saw that his mother had written something on it. "Did you give Damien all x's just for not bringing his chart to class? If so, call me."

I looked at Damien, handed his chart back and said "Thank you." He left. He came back five minutes later and held out a pink post-it. "Here's my mom's number so you can call her." And then he smiled at me, with that look that little brothers and sisters give you when they've tattled on you. I took the post-it.

I was furious. It seemed that this mother had told her son that I would be in trouble for doing this to her son, and I wasn't going to have it. I waited a day to call her.

When I did, I explained that he'd forgotten the chart on a previous occasion. She simply said, "That's what I needed to know." and we hung up. I felt puzzled, wondering why she'd not yelled at me or otherwise made me responsible for her son's problems, as so often happens.

I'm positive that this hasn't ended, but I couldn't tell you where it will go from here.

Google Maps

I was reading on TV Tattle about people making maps of the locations on their favorite TV shows. There's a compendium at Google Maps Mania.

You can see where Jack Bauer's been, what's going on with the Amazing Race, and even the locations from Seinfeld. Pretty cool. Some people really have lots of time on their hands. I'm not one to judge, mostly 'cuz I might do something like this too.

I am a TV geek who creates her own TV watching grid at the start of each season.

Surprise in the Waiting Room

I went to the dentist today. As I leaned down in his waiting room to tie my shoes, (sometimes I leave the house with them untied and tie them later) I noticed a pink spot on the tongue of my Nikes. I thought "That's weird, they didn't have a spot on them yesterday."

I moved my fingers further down to tighten the laces and saw something between the laces and the tongue. Something beige. With red string connected to it. I looked a little closer, and saw a burlap mouse, a cat toy. So I picked a rather damp burlap mouse out of my shoe, and having nowhere else to put it, dropped it in my purse.

I thought about asking the receptionist for a paper towel, to keep the water out of my purse, but didn't want to explain why I had a wet cat toy in my hand.

The kittens must have dropped it in my shoe last night, after they gave it a bath in the water bowl. I don't understand why they drop it into things. I've seen them drop it into the water bowl and my roommates Docs.

Sometimes I wonder if they have brains at all, especially when they run to meet their torturer when he gets home from work, so that he can put them into cardboard boxes and shake them, or pin them on the ground with one hand and pretend punch them with the other.

Boys mystify me. It's like no matter how old they get, affection = pretend hitting.

Twisted and Cool

Morbid Tendencies.

There's a Bunny of the Month Club. Scroll down to see the $5 level.

I've linked to this before. It still rocks.

Crossroads

I'm at a crossroads in my life, or so I feel. I'm ready to move into a new field, I've been working on some writing (editing my NaNovel from last year) and drawing. I've not been posting as much here lately because I don't feel the same urge that I used to. I'm thinking that might come back, but maybe not.

Work frustrates me, for the aforementioned in-school suspension, the expectation that I must spend my supposed free time with students and not get paid extra.* The fact that anyone who reads this will think that I sound mercenary for wanting to be paid extra at all. Don't I do my job for the love of it? Well, the mortgage got to get paid, so no, not really, and mostly neither do you.

I'm tired of telling people that I teach and getting the "oh, that must be a tough job, I admire you so much, you're really honorable" which doesn't mean what they say. Most of them really mean, "What on earth would possess you to touch snotty, spit-covered little kids for less than an administrative assistant makes. Though the admin's case could be made that her job resembles mine quite a lot.

*Follow this link to something I had to say about this in 2004.

Mercy and the Flying Saucer

My sister Chloe had her birthday last Sunday, on the 15th. I asked her how she wanted to celebrate it, and she said dinner but didn't get back to me before the day. Then last week she e-mailed Jenny and I and some of our other girl friends to have a girl's night out.

Jenny responded and recommended a wine bar/restaurant called Mercy, and the rest of us agreed, so Chloe made a reservation for last night at 6:45. We were all late, but Jenny and I and our friend Lynne by only five minutes.

Mercy's not bad. The waiter paid just the right amount of attention, he recommended good stuff, and they let us sit before all the party arrived. It's in a big complex of a bunch of other restaurants in North Dallas, just over the border of the semi-wet and wet counties. Thus, close to the liquor stores on Beltline and the Dallas North Tollway.

I had a French Canadian beer called Fin du Monde. Very nice, with a sweet taste and without the bitter aftertaste of one of my other beers of choice, Shiner Bock. The pork chop with apricot glaze didn't have much flavor, but the bruschetta appetizer did, and my sisters loved the Tuna Tartar. Don't order the lackluster cheesecake if you ever go, but the Pannacotta instead. It more than completed my meal, even though I only had the bit left after Jenny ate what she wanted.

We thought we'd check out a bar for a bit, so we walked to this one around the corner from Mercy. It was crowded and smoky and the people stared rudely, like we'd tried to crash their party. We got in the car and headed across the street to the Flying Saucer, a more comfortable pub without the meat market vibe.

They had a band, so Chloe paid the cover and we went in to discover no free tables. The Flying Saucer has a couple of couches in a back room called the O' Love, and the rest of the furniture consists of long picnic tables and benches. We had three choices. Sit with a couple, two girls or two boys. We picked the table with two boys, naturally, and then stood while someone worked up the nerve to ask the boys if we could sit.

It ended up being me, the least likely to ask strangers for a favor. Turns out the two boys didn't mind, and had come to the bar to kill some time. They chatted with us amiably, though the youngest of us had ten years on them. Twenty-three year old boys, out for a night and beset by six over-thirties. All of us look pretty damn good and Lynne bought them two rounds so it might not have traumatized them.

All in all a successful night, no one threw up and no one got arrested, though being old we did go home before midnight.

In School Suspension

I don't think it's legal. None of the other teachers at my school seem to care, they're just giving up their time. If it happened at a secondary school, the teacher giving up her conference period would get paid.

My principal seems to think that since she called it voluntary that means it is voluntary.

The other day the school office manager made a beeline for me. "We have a student in the ISS room, and one of the coaches told me that they think that it's your turn."
She and my friend the kindergarten teacher could tell from my face that I wasn't happy. I thought I should have left to go get lunch. But I went, because I'm good at saying no.

It's not a tough duty, that's not what I'm saying. It's easy, but on the Texas Education Agency website, it says that:

Each classroom teacher is entitled to at least 450 minutes within each 2-week period for instructional preparation, including parent-teacher conferences, evaluating students’ work, and planning. The planning and preparation period may not be less than 45 minutes within the instructional day. During the planning and preparation period, a classroom teacher may not be required to participate in any other activity.


and further down:

Each classroom teacher or full-time librarian is entitled to at least a 30 minute lunch period free from all duties and responsibilities connected with the instruction and supervision of students. A classroom teacher or school librarian who is otherwise entitled to a duty free lunch may be required to supervise students during lunch because of personnel shortage, extreme economic conditions, or an unavoidable or unforeseen circumstance for ONE day in any school week.

So I'm supposed to give up my conference period and my lunch, and then on the off chance that someone might be in the ISS room, I'm supposed to go to it and check.

This system works so well that the other day a first grader sat in the room during the school day with SEVEN different adults and not one of them thought to allow him to get his lunch. He didn't eat. His parents were furious.

My problem here is that if I say I'm not taking a turn, then the other willing people will think that I'm the bad teacher who doesn't care about the kids. This attitude pervades elementary schools.

The principal says that she thinks that the old practice of having the kid stay with the principal all day works too much like a reward. I suspect that she's just tired of having these kids around her all the time. Of course the coaches, my nemeses, have not complained other than to say 75 minutes seems unfair compared to the classroom teacher's 55.

I guess I'm not supposed to complain that she's taking away all my breaks and my lunch time too.

Sunday at Brad's

My brother Brad loves video games. He plays them on his computer. He plays them on his Game Boy. He plays them on his PS2, his Game Cube, his X-Box, strike that, his modded X-Box and on his new DS2.

On Sundays after we go see a movie, sometimes some of his friends hang out at his house to play games, and occasionally I go too. This weekend we saw Match Point. Not bad. I'm always impressed when I can't guess what will happen at the end of a movie.

This Sunday three of his friends came over, and me and my sister Jenny. Well, not Jenny, it's actually her house and Brad lives there. When I got to the house, they were sitting in the backyard around the table. (It's been in the mid-60's and 70's for a while now. I'm enjoying it, but it's not good for the fires.)

Brad, Jenny, and Brad's married friends had their DS2's out and were yelling wildly at each other while they played Mario Kart. Apparently it's like a wireless network. A few "fuck, who inked me?" 's later, and we went inside. Then our other friend James fired up his DS2. Now everyone but me sat playing Mario Kart on these tiny little screens, screaming things at one another. A post-millenium circle jerk.*

I sat and read a book. Jenny let me play a couple of races. Then I read some more of the book.

Jenny doesn't purchase video games, she played on my brother's 2nd DS2. Big dork bought a second one to supplement his Christmas gift from my father. Granted, he bought it on sale, but still. I have seen the future of geek, and I'm not impressed.



*Thanks, Chloe!

Two Good Merry Christmases

I know these are late, but I found them recently.
Here's one from Ashley Wood's blog, Merry Christmas from Ashley.

Then, an Ornery Boy comic, Merry Christmas.

Cats and Toilet Paper

After I accidentally locked Calvin in my bathroom yesterday, he ate Gwen's prescription/hypoallergenic food with pancreatitis medicine sprinkled on it. He stayed in there from 7ish until probably 1:00pm enjoying himself.

He destroyed four rolls of toilet paper, ripped open the prescription food bag, dug about two inches of dirt out of a plant and then got dirty pawprints all over the sink and floor.

I'm pretty sure that he also climbed my shower curtain and dragged my clean towels all over the bathroom floor. I've never seen a kitten that acted more like a destructive puppy. And, he follows me around the house, but doesn't follow.

He hears me moving, tries to anticipate where I'm going, and then runs there as fast as he can so he can beat me. That puts him under my feet most times, especially today when I turned a way he didn't expect.

You might think this might cause me to dislike him, and normally I would. But, he's just too dumb to dislike.

Doctorpalooza

Happy New Year!

Last week I needed to spend some money. I have a flex account with my benefits, and I had about $400 left. My father insists that it's not really my money, but I felt strongly that I should spend as much as possible, so I made some appointments.

I went to the doctor, the gynecologist, the dentist and the optometrist. I'm pretty sure that I spent all of that money, regardless of where it originated. I got some prescriptions, a sonic cleaning with laser scan, and a pair of really cool glasses.

I had no idea how crappy everything looked until I wore my glasses on the way home from the optometrist. I figure it's not too bad, getting glasses in my mid thirties. My brother's had them since elementary school, and my sisters almost the same.

I also got to hear from a few people that, medically speaking, I'm rather boring. That's nice to hear.