Look! Another Reason To Have Issues With Baby Jesus!

See Dooce's daily photo. Is it ironic to anyone else that the Son of Man is a cloven hooved animal?

Me, The Holidays, and The Baby Jesus: Learning to Love Again

Thanksgiving was lovely. My family went to the home of some close family friends who invited several other families from the same old crowd at my parent's church. It was like a large family and made me grateful for the community where I was raised. All those kids are like my cousins and all their parents my aunts and uncles.



The only slight drawback to a large mixed holiday gathering is that every single family cannot observe every single tradition so Saturday night my parents had my sister and I over for "the good dressing" and to start Christmas decorating. As I sat on the floor of the living room waiting for my mother to drop the cable to another part of the living room (don't make me explain, it involved a television move), I was able to rediscover my mother's vast Precious Moments collection. If you don't remember the pastel runny-eyed porcelain children that I shared a home with for the first 22 years of my life then you obviously lived on a different hemisphere in the 70's and 80's. I resisted the urge to "accidently" break this one and made a mental note to check collector's prices soon as I can just picture my sister and I when the time comes to move them out of that house.



This Christmas, I need to figure out how to find a healthy relationship with the baby Jesus. I mean, I love him as an adult, I really really do but this is my first non retail Christmas in 5 years and well, I just don't like Christmas. I mean, I like it once I am out of school and have time to exhale from working two jobs but advent? Not so much. I am excited to be making a lot of gifts and avoiding too much shopping. Perhaps avoiding all malls will help with the creeping bitterness I find at this most wonderful time of the year. Perhaps by the next time I speak to you, internet, I will be decked in tinsel and singing carols with all my angst behind me.



Perhaps not. But it can't be as bad as it is when I spend my nights pimping lotion.

Limericks Are SO Ten Min Ago

More hot and fresh haiku from Karina.



If you haven't started counting syllables, you shall. Oh yes, you shall.

Now pretend this photo was posted with my last entry. Posted by Hello

Eavesdropping On A Father/Daughter Conversation At The Jimmy's Egg

Daughter: "I love how the cheap Monet posters here are juxtaposed against the whittled wood Last Supper"



Father: "That's actually the last breakfast. Lots of people don't know that but when they paid for the room, they got the whole day."



"John wanted to get the salsa but Matthew stopped him"



"That's right, because they charge for it here."



"This coffee is my blood, this raisin toast my body."



"Get on this side of the table if you want to be in the picture"



"Smile, boys, here comes the whittler!"





Blog Me Once and Blog Me Twice and Blog Me Once Again, It's Been a Long, Long Time.

Keaton calls his blog entries "Daily Updates" and I maintain that doing that forces entries where there should be no entries. However, I will agree with Marty, it's been too long. Please don't expect structure of any sort.



Remember how Fallujah was the funniest word on the news? And then it wasn't funny at all but horrid? Fallujah gave me one more laugh on the news the other day when I heard the phrase "returning Fallujah to the Fallujans". Fallujah still isn't funny but Fallujans? That's funny.



Part of the reason I haven't blogged in a while is just the stress. I have told a couple of friends that the reason I don't spend time in the third world is that I cannot handle the needy constantly wanting a part of me. My world seems too much like that third world experience right now. I have in one class period (and I am not kidding) worried about one of my girls in a shelter, talked with a boy about his parent's hours-old seperation, sent a boy to the restroom to spit out his tooth ("You need to get to the dentist!" "Oh, we don't have insurance, I can't do that"), and pimped dress clothes for more than a few of them so we can go to competition. It's hard!! It's hard hard work!!!



So this Thanksgiving, I am thankful that my lower Maslow is covered. Hell, my mid to upper Maslow is in decent shape. Thank God it is or I couldn't do this job.



Fallujan...I needed that.







Charity Rhymes With Hilarity

So my friend Kathy is raising money for the Lukemia and Lymphoma Society. She is running her third marathon and as if it isn't enough to train for a marathon (I so admire anyone who plays a sport that requires you leave the sofa), this crazy gal has to raise $3k for the cause.



The link is here, and worth checking for some wacky photoshopping. Go here (hope you don't mind, Kristin and Micah, I couldn't find the actual image so I am linking to your site for it), then back to Kathy's page. Now back here again, now back to Kathy's page.



Creepy, eh? Please don't let that stop you if you are inclined to give, but please be aware that Kathy and her running partner are only two women.

Measuring Self Worth In The Nation's Third Century

I tend to look at number of hits, but yeah, I getcha.

All Mixed Up

One of the many things for which my father is useful is the celebrity death notification. A midday email from dad tolled the death of Fred "Rerun" Berry ("and here he was all ready to play Othello!") and I never will forget the early morning phone call that told me Johnny Cash had left this mortal coil.



Today was the death of Old Dirty Bastard. I don't know how it got through the district email filter, but here from an email entitled "Mourn his passing" are the words of my father...

O D B has left us. Yes, the ODB has gone home. What an artist! What a name! Dad

Indeed, Dad.



I wrote some haiku (I will post this in the haiku blog soon and would encourage my fellow haiku artists to comment with your ODB haiku).
Old Dirty Bastard,

once named Big Baby Jesus,

gone. And Wu Tang weeps.



ODB has passed,

once named Dirt McGirt.

What must his teeth be worth?



So then I read in the news of the resignation of Secretary of Education Rod Paige. Bookmark this, it will matter soon.



On my drive home, I start to compose my farewell sentiments for the ODB.



"Secretary of Education Paige caused controversy when he interrupted Shawn Colvin's acceptance speech at the American Music Awards..."



No, that's not right.



"ODB was a vocal proponent of private school vouchers and helped to cultivate the school of thought that everything that is wrong with American public education is the fault of the teacher and can be tested away..."



Crap! That's not it either.



I keep confusing my Old Dirty Bastards.



Do People With Real Jobs Do This??

I am not the person who tries to catch kids being wrong. I don't watch for those meddling kids to mess up, I find no joy in this.



That said, we had a kick ass hall sweep today!



Hundreds of kids were caught after the bell and herded into the cafeteria. It did my sense of justice good to say stuff like "Tell it to your principal", "Sweetie, if I don't see a hall pass, I just cannot let you through" or (my favorite) "There ain't a guilty man in Shawshank, is there?".



I played human shield for the better part of an hour with several other teachers, demanding hall passes from all who passed. I was the troll under the bridge and after the first 20 min I grew bored.



So I started to sing.



Did you ever stop to think about how appropriate the Chico and The Man theme is for situations in everyday life? It really is, and so many names have two syllables so it is all to easy to go into

Leroy,

Don't be discouraged

the man, he ain't so hard to understand.
This leads Beth and I to plan for karaoke hall sweeps next time. It shall happen.



Any requests?

Padded Cell For Her!!

Thank you, Nancy, for showing me I have not gone mad.



This is mad. I am not mad.

Days Choc-Full Of Crazy

In the last 24 hours, I have...

  • Heard from 4 former students
  • Looked for a possible home for a foster kid being put out of her present situation
  • Heard one of my girls speak in front of the whole school about how she opposed the war but loves and supports her father who serves there
  • Stopped one of my girls from reading Locke in said assembly with a look of "Gawd, I love you and you are so cool, but you have to put the book away."
  • Wished a girl well as she left school to have labor induced
  • Wished I could go to my student's funeral
  • Talked with another of my girls about her baby (to be born this weekend)
  • Admired a colleague's recent aquisition of "Pimpjuice"

So marvel not, friends, that the use and consumption of yarn has become so central to my life. Yarnity yarn yarn yarn. I love you, mindless motion of crochet. My mind is full of my weekend beginning knitter class. It's in a real yarn store! Lots of yarn!! Fancy fancy yarn!

I shall be knitting my own straightjacket.

Proof that I am an Okie: a. I attempted to take this picture of the sky while driving and b. today I said to a group of kids in the hall "Hey, y'all, a storm's coming! My room's the safe room, get in there while I go look at the sky!" Posted by Hello

I Will, However, Never Tell You Which Spice Girl I Am

I have avoided most all of the wacky "paste this html on your blog and tell the world ______!" So I know you will forgive this...it's kind of funny.



This site is certified 65% GOOD by the Gematriculator



Or, if your glass is half empty...



This site is certified 35% EVIL by the Gematriculator





Of Mother and Pie

I have a difficult relationship with my mother. Mom is that woman at your church. She sings in the choir, decorates for holidays, and has been known to invite the saleswoman at Dillard's to services (yeah, I am serious). Our relationship wavers between heated argument, agreeing to disagree, and just talking about shopping and the people I still know at her church. We both know that the love is there, but there is a distance.



Today, I remembered why I love her.



Thanksgiving plans are in the works. The big day will be spent with good family friends and the day after will be pie with Miss Eulla.



My sister found out about Miss Eulla last year when she had a sofa bed she needed to get rid of. Someone at her church knew there was a need so we went over to drop the sofa. She has three kids and a back injury that makes it difficult to work (the only jobs she qualifies for require lifting). Mom didn't make the trip but when we told her about Miss Eulla, she called to visit. Since then, Mom has made a real frienship with this woman. Mom calls once every couple of weeks and updates Miss Eualla on all of us. She prays for all of us and us for her. We have helped out at times and have referred her to people who can offer more help. This year, we are invited for post Thanksgiving pie and Mom has spoken, pie shall happen.



I love that Mom wants to know this woman. It's one thing to teach your family charity by volunteering, but another entirely to develop relationship.



It also makes me curse her less as I try to make the scarf she wants.

My new desktop wallpaper, have left the Smart Women Vote paper for a time. Posted by Hello

Mark This...

Haiku blogging promises to sweep the internet like a house afire!



Greg has picked it up, if only for one entry.

Before I fully release my anger, this ought to be shared. Posted by Hello

This made me calmer today...a bit of nuance. Posted by Hello

Wherein She Is A Slender Reed And Blows In The Wind

Haiku is up on the other blog. Go and appalud Nancy's first...it's a haiku suite!



I am better. After a horrid day of election woes, breaking up a girl fight, and cheering my aging father I somehow have calm.



I listened to music on the way to work for the first time since the primaries--it was nice to be up with something other than indignance. I am sure I will find more soon, but for now I just need to be even.





Words Blogger Cannot Spell

  • Cynicsm (lucky blogger)
  • Blog
  • Bighead
  • Gonna
  • Coupla
  • Crap Agnes
I am sure there are others, but it almost cancels the benefits of running spell check.

Toward Civility

I was cautiously up yesterday. I left my polling place after a half hour wait (my longest wait ever) feeling like I had answered everyone. I answer you, Gambling Mouse, Carson Bighead and W stickers on the cars. Even though I would be a minority in Oklahoma, I answered.



I think I had truly let myself believe that a majority of Americans agreed with me. Evidently, they didn't.



I did write a haiku for my next door neighbor who should have been teaching Psychology yesterday. Our walls are thin and he annoyed me.



Williams spews his pap
Neo-con evil teaching
I cancel your vote.
In the end, my answer was too quiet.
So what now? How can we work together toward the larger principles expressed in the Constitution? I will accept any answers that don't say "suck it up and believe what I do".
I have a friend who is fond of saying that he doesn't teach cynicsm. I like that. I don't want to but it's not easy.
Give me action verbs, how do we come together?


There Go My Placenta

This is not a political entry.



I have called two seperate households tonight and both answered the phone with "please tell me you are not a political call".



I wasn't then and I'm not here. I want it over with. Goodbye, Gambling Mice, Carson Dancin Bighead and Stupid Texan Who Thanks Me For Voting Against The Lottery.



I won't miss you at all.



This instead is an entry about the quote of the day.



I get new Communications classes today. They are still small and I have them working away on their first speech (Introduce Your Partner To The Class With No Expectation Of Greatness On My Part!!! Just! Get! Up!!) when I overhear one of my new charges sharing her ultrasound with the girl next to her. She is pointing out the various landmarks in the picture and makes me chortle with...

There go my placenta.


There it go, indeed.



When I call Jill to cackle I am greeted with her laughter at the catchphrase (after all, she said that very thing just over a week ago) and with the new catch phrase of her home, "You are all up in Baby Charlie's grill." (said to caution her other children as they gather too close to the infant).



I know I was supposed to post 95 things that piss me off today, but I am just over it. Over. It. I plan to crochet the evening away watching the SNL special.



Good day to you, internet.