Because the crazy is all part of my charm..

Young, wild, and free...

2011-10-18T22:13:00.003-04:00

I'm starting to realize that things that are amusing now are not going to be funny if I'm in the same stage of life when I'm 30. These things include, but are certainly not limited to:

-Falling asleep on the couch, nightly.
-Wearing long shirts as dresses. With leggings. To work.
-Blasting Lady Gaga every morning during my shower (What up new neighbors!).
-Living in my shitty apartment with no dishwasher, no laundry, and doors that I had to take off the hinges.
-Teasing the shit out of my hair and shellacking it to my head with half a can of hair spray.
-Being legit mad because Courtney and Matt from Most Eligible Dallas don't end up together (Hottest on-air kiss EVER.)

Also, I was texting my ex again, because (let's be real) things were getting real desperate around here. I'm talking eating an entire pan of brownies while watching the notebook desperate. Long story short, he made me irrational mad, which is different from my usual mad, and so I forwarded all of his texts to his girlfriend. Obviously, I don't mess around.

Next thing I know I'm blocked on the book and I can't creep anyone! That same night, Facebook chat was down and I couldn't chat with anyone. I seriously thought that his girlfriend reported me to Mark Zukerburg and I was in Facebook jail. Sheer panic.

My next move was to check out match.com. What a bunch of weird asses! One guy's screen name was italynstalyn. I'd say that's a red flag. Every dude who is in my age bracket is just looking to hook up. Plus, people are so fake online. I would never get a date if I filled out that questionnaire honestly.

Interests: work, reality tv, Facebook creeping, laying on the couch, night eating, shopping, texting exes, losing the same five pounds at Weight Watchers

Sports and exercise: N/A

Exercise habits: Sprinting from the couch to the fridge during commercial breaks

Pets: make me bust out my inhaler

Political views: Crazy Liberal

Sign: Crazy Gemini

College: miss it so much

Favorite Things: naps, junk food, facebook creeping, being antisocial, quoting Jersey Shore, engaging in passive aggressive behavior

Last Read: serveral young adult vampire romance novels

Guys would wink the shit out of my profile.

2011-08-15T20:26:00.002-04:00

I am so ready to go back to school. So far this summer I've done laundry once. How have I accomplished this? I think it must be a combination between having an obscene amount of clothes and wearing things several times before washing them. I swear I'm not gross; I've achieved the perfect level of arctic chill with my air conditioning, so I rarely sweat. Also, I've been wearing the same pair of blue Nike mesh shorts all summer. Seriously. All summer.

At the beginning of the summer, several of my capris and shorts didn't fit as a result of my bacon bender last winter. Life was stressful. Bacon helped. Now that my clothes fit again, I have no excuse, but I love those shorts.

I've also been sleeping on an air mattress for the past month. By choice. It started when I bought this sweet air mattress anticipating several summer guests. I left it made up in my sister's room until the one time I did laundry this summer and washed all three dirty sets of sheets I'd let accumulate. Naturally, I left all of my laundry over at the main building, and it was after midnight. I was lazy and fell asleep on the air mattress.

Let me tell you that after not sleeping well all summer (because I haven't expended enough energy to be tired) I had the best night's sleep ever. And so I've been sleeping on the air mattress ever since. I only have 3 more nights until I move, and I know I'll have to sleep in my bed again. I thought about setting up the air mattress in the living room, but I'm afraid I'll end up on one of those My Strange Addiction shows.

Have I mentioned that I have watched more TV this summer than ever before. Ever. Teen Wolf, My Strange Addiction, Weeds, True Blood, Pretty Little Liars, The Bachelor Pad (which has made me had men more than ever), The Real Housewives of New Jersey, and every show on HGTV. My brain feels like jello.

I also put a hole in my wall the other day. After keeping my apartment in pristine condition for three years, I fell off my exercise ball. No, I wasn't exercising. I was actually talking on the phone.

I am so ready to be a real person again who has a schedule that doesn't revolve around my shows. I'm ready to eat meals that don't involve beef jerky and gum drops. I want to wear pants that don't have an elastic waist.

Spark, and It's Like Gasoline or I've been here so long that people are starting to give me looks...

2011-07-27T20:40:00.001-04:00

I am such a procrastinator. I've been sitting at a cafe for over 3 hours trying to make myself write a 1 page response paper. So far, I've watched two episodes of Teen Wolf, caught up on my blog reading, researched my new veneers, and listened to the preview of every song on Britney Spear's new album. And I haven't started the damn paper.

I think this is probably part of a larger "engaging in self-destructive behaviors" pattern that includes eating shocking amounts of candy, staying up late when I know I'm going to be tired the next day, and texting exes.

Speaking of which...I did something kind of bad a couple of months ago, but I don't feel bad about it, which then makes me feel bad. Exactly.

Anyway, I may or may not have *cough* hung out with an ex who has a girlfriend. You can interpret that hung out with how you choose, but I think that you probably get the idea. It felt really validating, and I'm not sure why, because he's not that attractive anymore, and I don't want to date him. I've realized that I need to date someone who I can bring to work functions and not be fearful of what he's going to do or say. I have enough trouble not being "that girl" at the Christmas party without having to worry about my boyfriend, too.

For example:

I've been thinking about going back to therapy to discuss these self-destructive behaviors, but I find that therapists want you to be serious about your issues, and I'm not. I think they're kind of funny, and that seems to be frowned upon. Apparently, you're not really supposed to think about what your opener will be at your session.

Summer is great, until it sucks...

2011-07-18T20:35:00.005-04:00

As a teacher, I love summer, but I don't love that people think teachers live a life of leisure for 3 months. Most teachers either tutor, teach summer school, or take classes. I'm taking classes this summer and it sucks. I have two papers due a week which means I do no grad work at all 5 days a week and then spend the other 2 in a procrastination induced anxiety attack where I knock out 6 pages in a sitting.

I'm also moving this summer which I'm excited about, but not looking forward to carrying a life's worth of stuff from my current apartment to an apartment 50 feet away. My master plan is to put everything in the front lawn of my new apartment the night before then frantically carry everything inside during the 8 hours I'm allotted to move.

As for my love life, I've just continued texting the same ex-boyfriends that I have always on and off dated until I remember again that they're not the kind of people I should date or even text after a few too many drinks. (Aside: Today at Weight Watchers I shrieked out loud when I learned the point value of a mojito. True story.) Then, I wise up for a year or so until I either forget again or get bored enough not to care. My mom is in a panic because she read that the average age for women to get married is 26 and I'm pretty much there. I told her not to worry because I have found the perfect profile picture of me laying on the couch for when I'm forced to join match.com.

I've started going to the WW meetings to shame me into losing weight, which is working quite well. I've also started going to the gym more consistently. I was so sore this past weekend that I physically could not get out of my bed, which basically means that an hour of working out took me out of commission for two entire days. ha!

This commercial is so me:

"I'm probably the only person to gain weight on Weight Watchers" or "Sweet Jesus, I love candy..."

2011-02-13T14:44:00.002-05:00

I have a job now, which I love, but it's a very stressful job. After several months of work, I'd gained about five pounds of peanut M&Ms, licorice, salt and vinegar chips, and subway foot longs. (I'm guessing Jared didn't get the spicy Italian with a shit ton of dressing.)

My pants were doing that sausage in casing thing one morning when I had a complete breakdown and joined Weight Watchers online. I figured online was best because of how I think those people at the meetings are lunatics with their "birthday cupcakes are the devil" approach and because, let's be honest, I can't stand most people or programs. I am not a joiner.

Firstly what is this pointsplus program? They've engineered it so I can have as many grapes or carrot sticks as I want, but a handful of Hershey's kisses screws my whole day. It's like they're forcing me to make healthy choices. By breakfast of my first day, I had used 14 points; I only get 29.

I lost weight the first two weeks and then gained the third. Yes, I actually gained weight on Weight Watchers. I'm trying to stick it out and turn it around, but I don't think I'm ready to lose weight. I'm like one of those people with too much self esteem who could be 300 pounds and think I look hott in my stretch pants.

Gorgeous, Handmade Jewelry

2010-07-26T00:20:00.001-04:00

I should start this out by saying that I never endorse anything in my blog unless it's something I have, use, or really really love. I do not get paid for my opinions (unfortunately--but if you would like to pay for my opinions, I will! I'm poor, and I can be bought!!)

One of my friends from college is super crafty and has been making her own jewelry for years. She makes special things for friends and gives quite a bit as gifts, too. We have finally convinced her to get off her behind and open an Etsy shop!

Baubles and Beads by Vee

Her jewelry is so fierce! I think what I like most about her shop is how every piece is different. There is something for everyone. She also told me that she typically only makes one of each piece (unless she is requested to make more), so you know that your piece is truly unique.

She just opened her Etsy shop last weekend and adds at least one new piece daily, so check back often to see if anything sparks your interest. All of her pieces are very well-made (She's a crazy perfectionist.) and very reasonably priced. She also told me that she'll be adding some of the jewelry that her mama makes soon, so that's something to look for, too.

Currently, I am in LOVE with this bracelet:

The party girl earrings are also to die for. She has a pair of these that she always wears when we go out. Everyone compliments them.

Other things that make Vee's shop one you'll like:

-Your entire order ships for $3.00, regardless of the number of items that you purchase.

-She does custom orders. For example, I would love the bracelet above in a three-strand, which she would absolutely do.

-She accepts returns. If you don't like your piece for any reason, she will either adjust it for you, make an entirely new piece, or you can just return it (though I can't imagine why you would ever want to return anything).

-You can pay through Pay-Pal with your credit card. It sounds complicated, but I assure you it is not! I had to do this when I bought an e-book. You just go to Pay-Pal, set up an account, and connect your credit or debit card through Pay-Pal. It takes 5 minutes. This is the SAFEST way to purchase anything online, and now that I've set mine up, I use it as often as possible.

Some other fun facts about Vee that have nothing to do with her jewelry, but will probably embarrass her: (Muahaha)

-She absolutely hates the sound of anyone brushing his or her teeth.

-She's obsessive about maintaining her freakishly perfect eyebrows.

And the final reason you should check out her site--She's a teacher, too :)

Baubles and Beads by Vee

Admitted or Committed?

2010-07-23T01:03:00.000-04:00

I am a hypochondriac. I acknowledge it, accept it, and even think that sometimes it can be a good thing. I don't create illnesses, but when something is wrong, I always go to the doctor--no matter how insignificant it may seem. I once went to the emergency room for chub rub.

My cousin's husband got an ingrown toenail one summer when he was in college. Six months later the infection spread and his entire body turned blue. This is the kind of shit that would not happen to me, because I would have a doctor's appointment after a week of my toenail feeling "funny".

Anyway, I had a huge wake-up call when I actually had a (perceived) medical emergency last month. I was at work and all of a sudden I started seeing spots. I thought maybe I had looked into the sun or a bright light and tried to ignore it--until I couldn't see anything. Then, just as fast as it came on it, went away. Weird.

Next, my hand went numb...and my arm, face, neck, mouth, and throat. I was having trouble speaking. I was confused and dizzy and in a room with 15 kindergartners. I thought about writing, "Get help." on the board, but then realized, "Shit, they can't read!" I was freaking out and started sending kids to find another adult to come in so I could leave. I texted my coworker "Come to my class, having stroke, no lol..." Even when I think I'm having a stroke, I still have a sense of humor. Unfortunately, he was down the hall eating the food from the cooking class.

Finally, I took the entire crew and wandered around until I found an occupied classroom. I told the teacher what was happening, and she tried to call 911. Now, because of my history, everyone is always on my case about going to the doctor, and I would never live down calling an ambulance if nothing was really wrong. I managed to convince her that I was OK, but I needed to leave.

I called my doctor, and they said to get to the emergency room immediately, but not to drive myself with my numb extremities and all. No shit.

Five minutes later, I drove myself to the emergency room.

On the way there, I started having this throbbing pain in my head. When I checked myself in, I said, "I can't see, can't feel anything but this throbbing pain in my head, and I think I'm having a stroke."

They gave me a pager like you get at Panera and told me to go sit in the waiting room. What do you have to have wrong with you to be immediately admitted? I once saw a man with a head wound, visibly bleeding sitting in the waiting room.

By the time my freaking little pager started going off, I had to be wheeled into the triage area, because I was too dizzy to walk. The first thing the nurse did was to inject me with pain meds. And let me tell you, they inject that shit right into your IV. It was amazing. Thank god my mom got there to fill out the paperwork, because I spent the next hour and a half out of my mind on pain meds. It was awesome.

I had all kinds of blood tests and a CAT scan, for which I was totally incoherent. Then, after 3 hours, I was next in line for an MRI. When you get an MRI, they make you fill out this release/patient history form. On the paper, there is a little box that asks if you are claustrophobic. Next time, I will know to check the box, circle it, and write in, "If you put me in an enclosed MRI machine, I will lose my shit!"

I should have known that I was going to freak out. All of my anxiety triggers were present. I was too cold and uncomfortable, my medicine was wearing off and I was exhausted, the technician was annoying me off, and my head was THROBBING.

The first 20 minutes inside the MRI machine were fine. I was holding onto my little panic ball with my eyes closed, feeling somewhat relaxed. And then I realized that I had to pee. This was not your normal, "I have to pee soon" feeling. This was a, "I just had two IVs and I have to pee RIGHT NOW!" feeling.

I somehow managed to wait about 15 more minutes before I squeezed my panic ball and told the nurse that I had to pee. She told me that I had two more minutes in this scan, then they would pull me out.

Those were the worst two minutes of my life. I tried to sing the happy birthday song in my head but was so messed up from the meds that I couldn't remember the words, which only had me freaking out more. I could feel the panic attack coming on. Though I understood why I couldn't get out in the middle of the scan, I couldn't believe that she told me "No". I felt like I had no control over the situation which is ultimately what I believe led to what I can only describe as "When Crazy Charm lost her mind in the MRI machine..."

After those two minutes they pulled me out. I said again, "I have to pee, right now."

The nurse looked at me all strapped in and said, "Sorry, you still have 8 more minutes after we inject your with this dye."

I could not even comprehend what she said. "I don't think you understand. I have to pee right now. If I can't pee, I'm pretty sure I'm going to freak out and panic." I said as my grip on the panic ball is getting tighter.

"Well I can give you a bed pan."

I had my undies on, I was wrapped in three blankets, and yes, I had my period. I started having visions of peeing in the bed pan and then going back into the MRI machine and getting electrocuted from the pee that would inevitably dribble down my legs and onto the machine. And that was when I had had enough.

"I'm freaking out! I am panicking! And I am going to the bathroom NOW!" I screamed this as I started squeezing my panic ball like a maniac. Then, I somehow managed to wriggle myself from the neck restraint, sit up, and rip the ear plugs from my ears. I can't even describe the technicians reactions. It was kind of like they don't usually see someone escape from the MRI machine.

I could tell she was really mad as she wheeled me down to the bathroom, but I could not wipe the relieved, medicated, crazy looking smile off my face.

Two hours later, I got my diagnosis. I had a complex migraine with an aura. Which explains the stabbing pain in my head. Since then, I've had one other migraine. However, I've figured out that if I take 2 advil the moment the aura starts and then proceed to sleep for 6 hours, I'm basically fine.

I fell pretty, oh so pretty!

2010-07-21T23:16:00.000-04:00

As I've mentioned, I have been having a horrible time with my skin. When I went off the pill in November, I read a lot of horror stories from women who did the same and ended up with horrible hormonal acne. My skin stayed flawless and clear until February, so I thought I was in the clear.

Wrong.

A lot of people gave me shit for going back on the pill, but until you have acne, you don't understand the lengths you will go to to get rid of it.

When you have acne as an adult, it keeps you from wanting to do things and go places. It makes you not want to have your picture taken. It interferes with your dating life. You don't want to go on a date when you're having a horrible breakout. You don't want your boyfriend to sleep over and see how horrible your face is going to look like without makeup. It's hard not to fall into a depression when your entire life revolves around whether or not you're going to wake up with worse skin than the day before.

Nothing worked. No changes in my diet helped. No over the counter treatments made it any better for any length of time. No natural treatments worked. Nothing.

This in combination with my never-ending period was putting over the edge--crazy lunatic style.

I somehow managed to get into my dermatologist due to a cancellation. Otherwise, I would have had to wait until September...Sweet jesus...She prescribed Differin and another topical that my sister also uses.

Did you know that Differin costs 300 dollars for a small tube?! Thank god I have insurance. (For the Differin and the many hospital trips I make because I'm a freaking hypochondriac. They won't even give me an EpiPen because they say I'll "abuse it". lol)

It was hard at first and dried out my skin, but I figured out a routine that is working really well. After only two weeks of using the chemical laden miracle creams, my face is recognizable again. For the first time in months, I feel pretty!

The Debbie Downer in me thinks that my face will probably fall off next week.

I'm basically the MacGyver of broken shit...

2010-07-21T00:32:00.003-04:00

Before I go to bed, I walk around the apartment checking to make sure everything is off and unplugged and all of the doors are locked. I usually check the locks twice because I'm crazy and I have some residual OCD.

Tonight, the patio door was unlocked, as it often is. We live on the second floor and unless someone is going to scale the side of the building or the neighbors climb over the partition there isn't a lot to worry about. Considering the apartment next to us is vacant, I usually leave it unlocked during the day.

I had this very weird feeling last night that the lock was broken, but it was not. I locked it, and it was fine. However, tonight, I could not get the door to lock. I realized it was broken. My very weird premonition alone was enough to freak me out and start my imagination rolling. I immediately had myself convinced that someone had broken in the apartment while I was at work today and broken the balcony lock so they could sneak back in later this evening.

Clearly, I think I'm some kind of millionaire or something. What are my imaginary villains going to steal? My 13 inch TV? My crap-ola phone that butt dials all of my ex-boyfriends and leaves them 6 minute long silent messages? Probably not. And even though he's worthless, my sister's boyfriend is here, so for some reason I feel like his fat ass would be some kind of deterrent.

Still, there is no way I would be able to sleep knowing the door was wide open. I remembered that one of my friends who lives on the first floor of an apartment building in the city puts bricks in the track of her sliding glass door.

Now, I might not have bricks, but as the title of this post says, I'm basically the MacGyver of broken shit. After 20 minutes of experimenting with different objects, I found something that I could jam in the track.

I knew those Twilight hardbacks would come in handy!

P.S. Team Edward!

P.S.S. Team Jacob when he has his shirt off! hehe

My who-ha monologue

2010-07-15T23:35:00.002-04:00

Warning: This post contains words like uterine lining, crazy-assness, cramps, vajay, etc. If you are at all squeamish, hate personal overshares, or a man, you should probably skip this post.

After going back on the pill, I have had my period for 6 out of the last 7 weeks. Sweet Jesus, I know. I'm basically single-handedly funding the tampon industry.

It started out as just some light spotting and stayed like that for about 4 weeks. No biggie. Last week, I made a horrible mistake and forgot to take my pill until 8pm one night. Something about thinking it was Sunday instead of Monday. This shit happens when you don't do anything productive for days on end.

Since then, I've had mild cramping and a full blown period.

Tonight, I'm pretty sure part of my vajay decided it finally had enough and tried to make an escape. I had a huge clot which had some kind of tissue in it. I was sure I was dying until google reassured me that this is pretty normal when going back on the pill and is part of the uterine lining. Oh good. No worries there.

Anyway, I know a lot of people are going to tell me that I should just go off the pill, but my hormones were irregular before going on it. I was having two periods a month and hormonal acne.

However, my problem results from being selfish and choosing a pill that boasts only 4 periods a year...4 periods a year my ass! I've had 4 periods this month and now my vajay is falling out.

On the upside, my boobs are ginormous--which would be great if they didn't still look like two party hats pointing in opposite directions....

In my panic place

2010-07-12T21:33:00.000-04:00

Today was officially craptastic.

Last week, I hired a carpet cleaning company to come and clean the carpets in my entire apartment. We've lived here for over two years now, so there was the built up dirt...And I had just spilled half a bottle of nail polish in my bedroom. It was time. The estimate I got on the phone was $165 for my two bedroom apartment. We also have a living room and a small dining area. I thought that was really reasonable.

The guys got here (two pimply 20 year-olds) and I kid you not, could not even talk to me. I don't know what their issues were. I explained exactly what I wanted done, all rooms with furniture moved ( I payed extra for that.), the stairs, and the nail polish that looked like blood splatter. Then, I left because they were creeping me out and it smelled funny.

While I was gone, I went to look at a one bedroom junior apartment in the complex in which I live now. My sister is moving at the end of this year, and I can't have other roommates because I'm an antisocial lunatic. I currently pay around $400 dollars a month for my lovely, spacious apartment with private entrance and three enormous walk in closets. The one bedroom would be $700 a month. No private entrance, no beautiful balcony, one tiny closet, SUFFOCATING.

Needless to say, I was in a state when I left.

When I came back to my apartment, the guys were finishing up and told me that I could take a look at my room, because it was done. I knew immediately that none of the furniture had been moved.

I came out and said, "Did you move the furniture?"

He said, "Yes, everything but the bed."

Then I start thinking, "Why the hell were the beds not moved?!" but I was on a mission, so I clarified, "Really, even the solid wood dresser in my master bedroom?"

He said, "Yes."

Obviously he didn't not realize he was dealing with an obsessive compulsive, control freak, detail oriented maniac that knows the exact location of every piece of furniture in her apartment and can tell if and to the millimeter it has been moved.

So then I started to get my Judge Judy on, and said, "Hmm.. Really, I find that hard to believe because there is nail polish all over the floor underneath the dresser, and it has NOT been moved."

After he looked at it he started stammering, "Well actually I ran out of solution for that...I have some other stuff but I'm not sure if it will work..."

I was all over his ass. I paused, looked at him with my angry face then said, "Well, you can use whatever you need to, because I want this cleaned and I expect it to be clean." Then I stared him down while leaving the room. Just so he knew I wasn't messing around.

Funny how he was able to get it all up within two minutes. When it came time to write the check, I was still mad, but they finished the job, and so I decided to be nice--until he said it would be $270 dollars. They charged me extra for the stairs and $60 extra for the nail polish.

I just wanted them out of my apartment so I payed. Big mistake. After they left, I started to inspect a little more thoroughly and realized that none of our bedroom furniture was moved. Not even my floor lamp. There is trash and crumbs under my bed, and lines around everything where you can see the rest of the floor was cleaned. It didn't even look like they had cleaned my sister's room.

I looked at my sister and said, "Girl, hold my earrings!" She just looked very nervous and uncomfortable because she doesn't like confrontation or when I get ghetto.

Somehow, I managed to keep it classy.

I called the office and explained how dissatisfied I was. They were nice and wanted to rectify the situation by sending the guys back. I explained that those two losers were not to ever come back to my apartment, but they could send someone else tomorrow. I may have also demanded that the manager call me at his earliest convenience.

I spent the rest of the day being pissed and looking for other apartments. Then my mom told me I might have to move home if I don't get a full time contract job this year.

Things that will happen if I have to move home:

I will be 400lbs from stress eating.

I will have to be heavily medicated.

I will be one giant hive from the stupid dog.

Don't worry though. My dad said he would drive me to work everyday...

I wish you could see my eye twitching...

Addicted

2010-07-05T10:54:00.004-04:00

I have an addictive personality. Currently, I'm addicted to my balcony garden. I cannot stop. I just keep buying and planting more things, reading about different plants, and trying to learn as much as I can. After killing just about every plant I touched last year, I finally feel like my thumb is finally a little greener.

I've always been a veggie garden fan, but this year my love is flowers. I've had fresh flowers from the farmers market on my table every week. Now, I'm getting close to being able to clip my own.

My plant of the week was bee balm (second and third picture above). I spotted it on Tuesday from my favorite vendor, but tried to convince myself that I had enough plants and flowers for now. Well, come Friday, I had already bought more flowers at the nursery, so I thought what the hell. I'm getting the bee balm. Then I almost got in a fight with a woman at the farmer's market who was trying to snag it.

Apparently they frown upon that, by the way.

My dad was there and said that he was a little nervous when he saw the woman checking it out. He said I got "that look".

I'm actually a little fearful for when I have a home with a yard, as I've filled every possible space on my balcony with pots and planters. Perhaps, I'll learn some moderation by then...

Or not.

Someone find me a "Welcome to the Jungle" sign, please. :)

Let's get it on..

2010-06-22T21:11:00.005-04:00

I think my BC pill is starting to cause some mood swings. I was weepy, pissy, tired, excited, depressed, lonely, and antisocial today.

So it was basically like a normal day, but I was still trying really hard to use it as an excuse to not have to go to pilates.

The LAST thing I wanted to do was sweat my ass off and be owned by middle aged soccer moms with six packs. I was looking forward to a night of watching Clean House in my blanket cocoon, but then I remembered that I want to be hott and get fit. It was a huge dilemma...

So what did I do? I bribed myself with food, like the inner fat ass that I am.

Dear Turkey Bacon,

You were what I used to bribed myself to go to pilates. All class, I was thinking dirty thoughts about you. I couldn't wait to get home, get you into the pan, and listen to that sweet sizzle. I was really looking forward to getting it on with you.

After class, I went to the grocery store and picked you up. I even got the expensive brand, because I'm a classy broad. I've only ever had you at restaurants before and was so excited for you and I to reunite in my kitchen.

And then I put you in the pan. No sizzle. No delicious bacon grease. No heavenly aroma. Nothing. You were like all of my ex-boyfriends--a lot of anticipation with no follow through.

You let me down Turkey Bacon. We will not be getting down again. I'm over you.

Still pissed,

Crazy Charm

P.S. Real bacon was so much better than you.

After I lose it, this will probably be the blog post they go back to and say, "This is when it all started to go wrong."

Playing the iTunes game on a Saturday night is kind of like admitting defeat...

2010-06-19T23:50:00.002-04:00

You play the iTunes game by thinking of a question then going to the very next song on shuffle on your iTunes playlist for the answer...It's similar to the whole magic eight ball thing. However, the magic eight ball can't tell you that your life theme song is The Thong Song.

What is the theme song for my future love life? Jack Johnson - Gone, Gone Gone

That's not even funny. Wth?

Trying again...love life theme song - Ludacris ft. T-Pain - One More Drink

Ha, funny, but not better.

Will I marry a hott black guy? LMFAO - Yes

A girl can dream...

What is the theme song for the future of my career? Pink - So What

Super...ha Even iTunes is apathetic about my future.

I totally will not reunite with any past lovers, right, RIGHT? Kelly Clarkson - My Life Would Suck Without You

No iTunes, NOOOOOO!

Why do the fingers on my left hand keep going numb? Taio Cruz - Driving Me Crazy

It really is, thank you. I'm pretty sure it's a symptom of some horrible disease that I must have!

What exactly would you say is my level of craziness? Dashboard Confessional - So Beautiful

Oh yeah, what what!

Will I make it to the summer without losing my shit on my sister's boyfriend? Ludacris - How Low

Not a good sign...

How unbelievably hott am I really? Taio Cruz ft. Ke$ha - Dirty Picture

Lol...Oh iTunes, you're so bad!

What would my college theme song have been? Katy Perry - Hot 'N Cold

What will the theme song for my twenties be? Fergie - Fergalicious

"Fergalicious definition make them boys go loco
They want my treasure so they get their pleasures from my photo
You could see me, you can't squeeze me
I ain't easy, I ain't sleazy
I got reasons why I tease 'em

Boys just come and go like seasons I'm Fergalicious (so delicious)
My body stay vicious
I be up in the gym just working on my fitness"

Let's hope so...haha

What will the theme song for my thirties be? Webbie - Independent

"She got her own house, she got her own car, two jobs, work hard, you a bad broad...She'll buy her own, I don't think she'll never look in a man face standing waiting for him to take care of her, she'll rather go to work and pay the bills on schedule..."

What will the next guy I date be like? Teegan and Sarah - Your Love

I don't know if I'm ready for that iTunes. I know you don't know me well, but I've got commitment issues, and personal space issues. Don't be pressuring me...

Will he be someone I already know? Dashboard Confessional - Hands Down

That doesn't seem promising...As I do a mental rundown of all the idiot guys I know.

Will I ever not have chest pains when I think about going home/seeing people from home? Timbaland ft. Katy Perry - If We Ever Meet Again

"What's somebody like you, doin in a place like this?
Say, did you come alone, or did you bring all your friends?
Say, what's your name, what you drinking
I think I know what you're thinking
Baby what's your sign, tell me yours I'll tell you mine
Say, what's somebody like you doing in a place like this?"

Creepy, iTunes...Very creepy...

Overall Life Theme Song - Miley Cyrus - The Climb

Lame...

Song for the fun-tastic reunion - Pitbull - Hotel Room Service

Oh jeez, let's hope not...ha

Current Favorite - Muse - Starlight

*Totally cheated on this one and just picked one of my current favorite songs :)

Muse - New Music - More Music Videos

"Hold you in my arms

I just wanted to hold
You in my arms

My life
You electrify my life
Let's conspire to ignite
All the souls that would die just to feel alive

But I'll never let you go
If you promised not to fade away
Never fade away"

Update on my hott bod (sarcasm implied)

2010-06-18T17:25:00.000-04:00

I've been going to the gym for a few weeks. I've been doing cardio and pilates while averaging 4-5 gym trips per week.

I don't have a before picture, because I don't feel the need to traumatize myself, unnecessarily. However, I have been noticing some results and took some pictures today while shopping for gym clothes. I'm also pretty sure the people in the stalls around me thought I was some kind of creeper with the camera noises coming from my stall. Oops.

My trouble spot is my middle, but I can see that I'm starting to slim down. Also, I'm beginning to develop some arm muscles from pilates which I plan to use to intimidate my sister's boyfriend.

FYI: These are my own clothes that I wore to the store. I usually don't wear shorts to the gym because my ass is so large and bouncy. I need that shit locked in with some kind of spandex.

I am not the type of person who is overly obsessed with my weight. I definitely live to eat rather than eat to live. My main goal is to tone up, but if I had to put a number on it, I'd like to lose ten pounds this summer.

And just for fun...

Try to ignore my rippling abs for a second and take a look at that sunburn. I know it's hard to tell, but my entire stomach is bright red. For some reason, I thought it would be a good idea to lay out with no sunscreen on despite the fact that my belly has not seen the light of day in years.

Don't be jealous of that sweet spandex either. I know, it's hard.

Operation Get it Right, Get it Tight

2010-06-12T15:20:00.001-04:00

Ms New Booty was my theme song freshman year of college...And that will be all that I have to say about that...

As I previously mentioned, I'm staging a come back. Operation: Get it Right, Get it Tight is a two part effort to get my shit together.

In order to get it tight, I've been up in the gym, working on my fitness. I guess you could say that it's going well--aside from the fact that it hurt for three days to move, breathe, sneeze, cough, shower, get dressed, or sleep.

Surprisingly, getting it tight has been much easier than getting it right. My skin exploded this week (most likely due to a major stress event). Even so, the combo of extreme chemicals that I've been slathering on and taking the pill have stopped working. So I'm healing from the inside out:

-No wheat and no dairy: Sweet jesus, I might actually die.

-Kombucha tea: have you seen/tried this? There are live cultures of slime floating in it. I tried it today for the first time. It's jam packed with all kinds of good stuff--including a ton of probiotics. It's basically a waiting game until I shit my pants.

-Not wearing make-up: Unless I have to go to work, I'm not wearing make-up.

-Burt's Bees Acne Kit: Because it is 100% percent natural, this will either go really well or horribly wrong...

-Burt's Bees Pore-Refining Mask: I was just going to buy green clay and make my own mask, but I worried that I would screw it up--kind of like that time I experimented with Nair. I nearly burned my va-jay off.. True story.

In addition to get my face all pretty, I'll be doing the following:

-growing my hair out: Short (chin length) hair is flattering on me, but I've never had long hair, and I really want to try it out. Isn't it funny how when you try to grow your hair out, things get worse before they get better? I'm not looking forward to the mullet stage.

-cleaning my apartment: The clothes mountain in the living room is ridiculous, and there is some kind of bean dip in the fridge that neither my sister or I will put down the garbage disposal. I feel like this is one of those situations where the tupperware may have to be sacrificed.

I was talking to one of my girlfriends about Operation: Get it Right, Get it Tight, and she sent me this blast from the past for encouragement:

My friends are soo supportive...

I got my fitness on, and my body was all "wtf?"

2010-06-08T19:27:00.000-04:00

I gained four pounds after going on the pill. Plus I bloated up to high heaven. Then I went to the beach. My face looked like an inflated beach ball. No joke.

Needless to say, I was a little traumatized. I have the potential to be what I like to call, "a hott piece of ass". I realize that being attractive is not the most important thing in the world. I'm smart, funny, and am really good at what I do. Even so, I also want to feel really good about how I look...for me. I'm lucky to have a pretty face and a good shape. It's just covered by a layer of chub right now.

After the beach, I came to a realization. I'm in my twenties. If there is ever a time when I could stage a come back, it is now. I put the candy down and joined the gym, because I know the combination that I need to get fit--peer pressure and a monetary commitment. If I have to pay for the gym, I will go. If there are people watching and judging me while I'm there, I'll actually try...to avoid looking like the gym fattie.

I've been going non-stop for a week. It is AMAZING how fast you see results. My face has already deflated, and I thought I was sooo cool, up on my high horse over my hours of cardio--that is until I went to a pilates class last night.

I did pilates and yoga all through high school and college, so I thought it would be a good workout for me. What I didn't think about was that I haven't done any kind of muscle toning or core work in months, and apparently when you stop doing stuff your muscles turn into jello and you almost cry during class.

Seriously...And it didn't help that the instructor was not messing around. And she had the most annoyingly positive disposition EVER.

Suzy Freaking Sunshine: 5, 4, 3, 2, 1--20 more!

Me: You bitch...

Suzy Freaking Sunshine: You're all smiling! You are LOVING it!

Me: I may actually puke...In pilates...There are old people here kicking my ass...

She also had us doing all kinds of moves while laying on the giant exercise ball. I almost flew off that thing like 5 times...

Needless to say, I cannot move today. Everything hurts. It hurt to breathe this morning. It was a rude awakening.

However, I will say that my legs hurt so bad that I have made significantly fewer trips to the refrigerator today...

Not looking like a beached whale, for now...

2010-05-26T23:42:00.000-04:00

I have been wearing the same bikini since my freshman year of college. I put it on the other day and realized the elastic is dry-rotted and no one needs to see that much of my stomach...Ever...So, I went bathing suit shopping. Oh sweet Jesus.

Somehow, I found three really flattering (not horrific) choices, and I bought them all, because when does it ever happen that you actually find more than one suit that doesn't make you look like a beached whale?

Oh, just me with the beached whale thing? Hmm...

Anyway, I would say that I look like a cross between Casper and the Pillsbury Dough Girl. Which is actually a step up, so I'm cool with it.

As for my pill update, My skin looks about 100 times better after being on the pill for four days. Also, I've gained four pounds--after weighing exactly the same thing, every morning, for six months.

Super...I'm drinking water like its my job.

I was concerned that this pill would turn me into a clingy, psychotic beeyotch like Ortho.. Thank God that I finally got off that shit after seeing a book in Barnes and Noble called, "I hate you! Don't leave me!" and realized it could have been my life story.

What I've failed to remember is how Seasonale and Seasonique act as a sort of tranquilizer and actually regulate my crazy...It's kind of eerie though.

On Ortho:

Kid: I'm not doing anything! I'm going to talk while you're talking and roll all around on the carpet while yelling, making your blood pressure explode!

Me: That is inappropriate behavior, sir. I need you to make better choices! And stop making that noise!

(Said with a twitchy eye and crazy face)

On Seasonique:

Kid: I'm not doing anything! I'm going to talk while you're talking and roll all around on the carpet while yelling, making your blood pressure explode!

Me: Hey bud, can you roll a little bit to the left, the people behind you are having trouble seeing. I also like that somewhat piercing noise you're making, you are a true musician!

On Ortho:

Friend: Hey, would you like to hear this rumor that isn't about you, isn't true, but makes you look terrible anyway?

Me: */&)^?!

On Seasonique:

Friend: Hey, would you like to hear this rumor that isn't about you, isn't true, but makes you look terrible anyway?

Me: Ha! That's so silly...Lets go to the beach next week!!

The moral of the story is that my skin looks great, but I could turn into a beached whale at any moment. Also, I'm less crazy, or maybe more crazy, but a different more pleasant kind of crazy??

My love/hate relationship with the pill...

2010-05-22T11:45:00.000-04:00

I went on the pill when I turned 16 years old. Ortho tri-cyclen to be exact. I had stopped getting my period because I was anorexic. My doctor decided to get me on the pill to regulate my cycles again. I think my mom also thought of it as an insurance policy.

I didn't have any major problems with all the hormones during high school. However, during college, I started having some major crazy beeyotch mood swings. I was crying all the time, having emotional breakdowns in response to the most minimal stressors. It was ridiculous.

My senior year, I switched over to Seasonalle. Sweet jesus, was that shit amazing. No period for three months, no mood swings, no pregnancy fears--awesome. And then, after three months, you get to the period week. Picture a volcano erupting, only with more crying, yelling, and flipping out.

It was basically like this, but with less dog tongue.

**It also gave me horrible acid reflux, making daily Prevacid a necessity.

But it was only once every three months, so I persevered. I finally stopped all forms of the pill after learning about the short and long term side-effects of oral contraceptives. The pill is not good for you, it does cause horrible side-effects, and doctors are just as uninformed as their patients.

I was doing really well for about 4 months. And then the shit hit the fan. I started breaking out. I've always had great skin and just could not deal with it. You have no idea how severely bad skin effects your life until you have it.

I'm starting Seasonique tomorrow. It's the same as Seasonalle, except it has estrogen in the placebo pills. This is supposed to prevent the period week crazy beeyotch syndrome. And yes I did use this terminology while talking to the pharmacist.

In short, I know the pill is bad for me, but I love it anyway. It keeps my skin clear and glowy. It keeps me period free for three months, and it makes sex so much better. Sorry for the overshare, but it is true. Being on the pill for so long, I never realized how stressful it is using only one form of birth control.

How am I supposed to enjoy myself while thinking, "What if I get pregnant? I cannot have kids right now. I'm semi jobless. I can hardly take care of myself. I would have to pay my bills on time and have real groceries in my house and not have a clothes mountain in my living room. I wouldn't be able to nap!"

Seriously, people whose living rooms look like this are not ready to think about having kids, or even a dog, probably not even a hamster...

Why my life is disastrous...

2010-05-20T08:22:00.000-04:00

-I haven't payed any of my bills for this month (not because I don't have the money, but because I'm lazy.)

-All of my shows' season finales are airing, which seems awesome, but really means I will have nothing to watch this summer.

-I have shows.

-Last night I texted and talked to my ex on the phone about my crap-tastic day. I miss him even though I was only talking to him for a month after not talking to him for a year an a half--Also, I'm totally aware that he's all about his new girl.

-I am a Facebook creeper, extraordinaire.

-My doctor made me research and choose my own birth control (which I'm going back on because my skin is so bad). THEN, she had the nerve to call me and say she wouldn't send in the prescription until I came back in for a urine test to confirm that I'm not pregnant.

1. I'm not getting any!

2. I was just there yesterday!

-Seriously...I am not getting any...

-My sister and her boyfriend are away for ten days and some how my apartment is still more of a mess than when they were here. I have no one to blame it on, and I think it's me...

-My laundry has been in the laundry facility in the dryer for two days. First, I lost my laundry key, so I bought a new one. Then I lost my new key. Then, I found it in my purse. Then, I lost my purse.

Please send candy, a housekeeper, and hott men...

When Crazy Charm met the nice guy...

2010-05-13T19:30:00.003-04:00

I met this guy my freshman year of college through a mutual friend. A week later she told me that he had asked her to hook us up. I thought she was kidding. Then when she assured me that she wasn't, I thought that he was making fun of me.

Because he was that hott.

Don't get me wrong, I know that I'm cute. But this kid was intimidating.

We talked for a while and had some *cough* really fun times...But nothing really ever came of it (because I might be really good at flirting but dating freaks me out)...

He graduated and a couple years passed. Then, late one night last summer, (after some drinkies) I texted him to say hi. Ever since then we've been texting. He lives a couple hours away, but we've hung out a few times when either of us have been in the neighborhood.

Other than the fact that neither of us is looking for a relationship and are both just extremely attracted to each other, he's probably the perfect guy for a girl who likes really nice, hott, together guys.

He's Mr. "I'm all about my work and I'm going to be very successful one day, but I'm the least cocky guy in the world so I would never say that or even allude to it...I'm just going to be the nicest guy you've ever met and humor you when you talk about the mother's day finger painting craft you did with your students like it is some kind of international business plan."

My friends keep telling me that I'm letting Mr. Perfect get away. What can I say? I'm used to guys that call me babe, and send me texts like, "i wanna c u".

I'm not sure what to do with guys who use punctuation.

I'm all superior and shit

2010-04-29T21:03:00.005-04:00

Did you ever end things on a really bad note with a friend or a boyfriend?

And then after it goes down you start feeling bad, like you don't want to go out on the crazy beeyotch note, but instead want to go out in a way that conveys the mature, positive thinking, happy for him girl you are. Basically, you want to be all superior and shit.

And so you text him:

"Hey, I'm really sorry about before. I was hurt and I flipped out. I don't want to have these bad feelings between us. I don't think we should be friends, but I do wish you well."

And then he's all:

"Ok, that's fine."

And you're all:

"Is that an angry fine or a neutral fine. lol" (You add the lol to keep it light.)

And he says:

"idk lol" (He says this because he's illiterate but also trying to keep you from losing your shit. It means, "What will keep you from yelling at me?")

And you're all:

"Well you have no reason to be angry with me.'' (You say this because even though you're trying to apologize, it's only on the condition that he's in the wrong and you are 100% right.)

And he's all:

"You're the one who wanted to be friends and now that I'm talking to someone else you don't want to be my friend."

And you're just trying to go out on a good note with:

"That's funny, because we were definitely not just friends...and I said that last week because I didn't feel like I trusted you and I freaked out.. but then I apologized and said I wanted to try.. But somehow you've been cultivating this new thing that you have for quite some time...Obviously I was right not to trust you!"

And then he tries to diffuse you with logic (Ha, like that will work!)

"Well you never said anything but friends."

And then you say to hell with it:

"Whatever, go hang out with your skank. Later."

Hmm...So much for going out on a good note...

**This happened a couple weeks ago. The EX and I are back on good terms...or something like that...

I can't help it that I don't like outdoor sports where my hair could get wet...

2010-04-29T20:16:00.004-04:00

I don't know why I feel as absolutely devastated as I do right now. The Ex is dating someone new, who I'm pretty sure he was talking to and hanging out with the entire time we were talking, but that's a null point now. I can't really get mad, because we weren't even dating.

Or can I?

You bet your ass I can. And I did. Like a crazy person. When I got all the details, (because I always find out about everything, specifically the things that I would be better off not knowing), I called him out. I busted out language I haven't used since...well...the last time he and I were talking. He finally admitted that the date was a date, but was still trying to turn the whole thing around on me. Something about how I just wanted to be friends. I don't remember being there for that conversation, but I do realize that I freak out and push people away. And I did that to him, so I can see where I'm partly to blame.

I don't know. I'm afraid of commitment or people in my space or the outdoors. Yep, all of those.

So tell me, why is it that I can be interested in any guy and when that doesn't work out, I'm a little upset but eh, I don't really care, because I wasn't that into in him anyway and I probably sabotaged it, even though he was absolutely perfect for me in every way, yet I can go YEARS without talking to the Ex who is all wrong for me in every way and likes things like canoein' and ridin' and other things that you do outside and that end with an in' and then after a month of talking to him I'm left broken hearted, laying in my bed, reevaluating who I am as a person, and listening to Lady Antebellum Need You Now on repeat.

No, seriously tell me, because I'm poor and jobless and I can't afford crazy time (aka therapy) anymore.

And so help me God, if my sister's boyfriend is wearing pants that swish when they get home tonight, it just might put me over the edge.

Did you use an I message?

2010-04-27T11:45:00.000-04:00

Since becoming a teacher, I've found that I've absolutely changed the way in which I speak to people. We teach children to use their words in a thoughtful and effective way. Because I'm always modeling it, I now use I messages in my personal life. For example:

Old me:
"Don't freaking call me when after you've been out all night! I'm not your booty call!"

New me:
"I don't like it when you call me at 2 in the morning and want me to pick you up at the bar. It makes me feel as if that's the only time that you want to hang out with me. I need you to ask me to do things when you're sober."

Old me:
"I'm going to punch your boyfriend in his sleep if he continues peeing on my toilet seat, eating my food, and walking around in his swish pants in my house every minute of everyday!"

New me:
"It frustrates me when I hear your boyfriend walking around the house wearing his swish pants. Hearing, 'Swish swish swish swish', makes me feel as if I could flip out at any moment. I need you and your boyfriend to get the freak out of the house for a while so I don't end up on an episode of Snapped."

Old me:
"Don't tell me that a date is not a date! You're such a jerk!"

New me:
"It infuriates me when you tell me that a date is not a date. Listening to your stupidity ensures that I'm going to friend your ex on Facebook just to spit you. I need you to go on as many dates as you'd like, but don't even think about asking me."

See. Thoughful and effective!

**The Ex's ex was actually really nice, which I probably didn't deserve.

The Ex Files

2010-04-25T14:34:00.001-04:00

So, I've been keeping something kind of scandalous to myself for a while. I wasn't ready to talk about it, or maybe I just didn't want to admit it, or maybe I didn't want my friends and family to find out about it... Regardless, I'm ready now to share the mess that has become my life.

I've been talking to the Ex for about a month. I saw that he had created a Facebook profile and listed himself as single. I heard that he and his fiance had broken up but was really surprised to see it and know that it was true. In case you didn't know, something isn't "real" until it's on Facebook.

I controlled myself for about a week, then friended him. I did it because I knew it would start some kind of drama. And I was bored. And I wanted to see if he still liked me. And I have zero self control. All of those things. He accepted my friendship and started talking to me...about how much he missed me...he still had feelings for me...he couldn't believe that I was talking to him...how sorry he was for how he treated me before...and of course he told me his little sob story about his ex-fiance and how she had "cheated" on him and broke his little heart.

We started talking every day. We saw each other a few times. And after spending months getting over him, and being totally secure and happy by myself, I was right back where I started--absolutely into him despite knowing better. After my sister told my parents that I snuck out of the house to see him (still hilarious btw) they were furious.

Each night (because she's crazy), my mom texts me "night love". She amended her nightly text to say, "night love .. don't talk to your ex"... But no, I didn't listen because I didn't care..I was all, "Whatever mom! You're so negative. People can change! He's changed! I'm 23. Stop interfering in my life."

Obviously, I must have been keeping some teenage angst on reserve for a situation like this.

Then things started to unravel...He kept reminding me that we were not dating. We were friends hanging out seeing where things would go. Now, I'm not sure, but usually when someone feels the need to let you know you're not dating, that's not a good sign. It's not like I was planning our lives together. I'm pretty sure I had asked him if he had a good day at work. He kept making tentative plans to come over and hang out then had excuses why he couldn't come over. And I started picking fights...

Friday, I had the most unbelievable day of my teaching life. Horrific. I texted him and said that I wished he could come over. He said he would love to but he had plans. Then, via some Facebook stalking, I see that he's going out for dinner and a movie and to the bar...and he's not answering my texts. (And I'll have you know I sent 2 not 100. Thank you. I have some self control.)

Hmmm... Long story short he was on a date. And tried to tell me that it was just dinner and a movie and drinking all night with a friend who was a girl. Now, I'm not sure in what world he's living, but that is a date. In fact, that's better than most of the crappy dates that I've been on! Seriously...

And then my crazy came out..

After a night out with the girls, I unfriended him on Facebook. Then I friended his ex-fiance. And I told him about it. Of course, he was all, "You're crazy and I didn't do anything and you're being really hurtful for no reason." And I did not care. Yes. I realize that we're not dating, but do not think you are going to walk all over me and tell me that a date is not a date and not expect my crazy to come out.

I don't even care that he went on a date. Whatever. Go on dates. Do whatever you want, but I'm not an idiot and I'm not going to be treated like one.

Also, the "friend" he went on his date with has a tongue ring. I don't know why that makes it seem worse to me, but it does.

The moral of this story is that you shouldn't let your ex come over to "talk" at 3 in the morning, I'm a Facebook stalker, and I ate McDonald's french fries for breakfast today.

The End.

I'm basically a 16 year old, but with better shoes

2010-04-20T17:51:00.004-04:00

A few weekends ago, I went home for Easter. I also snuck out of my house to see a boy at one in the morning. I'm 23.

I don't really have much to say for myself other than it was awesome! All through high school I wanted to sneak out and never had the guts to do it. My own regret was that it took me so long.

Oh. I got away with it, too. Well, until my sister told on me. She's 21.

**The boy and I just drove around. Get your dirty minds out of the gutter ;).

I'm all threatening like with my covert hottness...

2010-03-29T18:45:00.000-04:00

Apparently...

I know a lot of women who stay friends with their exes. Not me. I am not friends with any of my exes. I always thought it was of my own choice. I never understood. I mean they're exes for a reason right? Why stay friends? Well I was wrong. Though I usually put forth little effort to stay connected with the men I've dated, I recently found out that more than one of my exes is "not allowed" to be friends with me.

My first thoughts were, "Good lord, I'm not that crazy. What do their girlfriends think I'm going to do?" and later, "Shit, yeah! I must be hotter than I think?!"

I'm not someone I would describe as sexy. I have my moments, but typically, I'm pretty Plain Jane. I can't imagine why someone would restrict their boyfriend from talking to me.

You see, I do not look like this:

But, I feel like it now!

**Yes, I realize that my covert hottness my not be the reason that my exes are not allowed to be friends with me. It's entirely possible that it could be my overt crazy ass-ness.

I choose my own truth.

Homeward Bound

2010-03-28T13:32:00.006-04:00

I love my family tremendously and see them several times a week. They only live about thirty minutes away. However, I don't ever go home. EVER! They always come to me. The last time I made the trek home was for Christmas. I only lasted three days before I went stir crazy. I was on the road so fast, I forgot my cell phone charger, my gloves, and some jewelery. My mom and dad brought them over the next day.

I've been trying to convince my family to move as long as I can remember. There's nothing to do in my hometown. There are a few mom and pop restaurants, a tanning salon, a non-chain video place, and one bar. When people say they're going to "the bar", they mean it. There is also one over-priced grocery store that doesn't carry any ethnic ingredients. You can't even get scallions there. If you ask, you'll be referred to the white onions. Seriously.

Because I don't ever go home people think that I am stuck up and that I think I'm too good for my hometown. No, wrong. I'm too anti-social/scarred from high school to go home. You see people you know everywhere you go. For an awkward turtle like me, that's enough to give me chest pains.

I went to "the bar" one time over Thanksgiving break a few years ago. It took a lot of convincing by the few people I still talk to from high school as well as about 15 outfit changes.

I never could have prepared myself for what was about to happen. When we walked into the bar, it was as if the music stopped. I've never had that many people look at me at the same time in my entire life. The look on their faces was a strange combination of shock, annoyance, and curiosity. I wanted to run out with my tail between my legs and drive as fast as I could back to my comfortable, non-judgmental apartment. My friends made me carry on, and something very strange happened. I had more drinks bought for me than I ever have before. People LOVED me. Well, people didn't love me. They loved the novelty. There's not a lot of novelty in a small town. Apparently when you don't see someone for a few years, they become pretty interesting.

That was my first and only appearance at "the bar". It was way too much anxiety for me. Still, Easter is approaching and I'm trying to man-up and prepare to be homeward bound, again. This is where you come in. I need help deciding what to wear to Easter mass. Keep in mind that I'm not too concerned with being church appropriate. When you go home twice a year, you want to look presentable. And by presentable I mean as smoking hott as an elementary school teacher can look. (I can dream, people!) I'm not sure if I care what these people I don't talk to anymore think. I am sure I want to look good.

First, I need to decide on the shoes. I have two contenders. Keep in mind that I wear flats, flip flops, or Born clogs every, single, boring day.

I would describe the first pair as professional and classy. I would wear these shoes to an interview or a work function.

I would describe the second pair as overtly sexy and just a tad in appropriate. These are the ones toward which I am leaning. Can you say, "Hott!"

Feel free to give me your uncensored opinions, even if they're negative. You should know, though, that regardless of what you say, I'll still do whatever I want. That's just how I roll.

Disclaimer: The apparent cankles featured above are in no way representative of my legs, only my poor photography skills. The same cannot be said for my pasty skin. Also both pairs of shoes are Nine West and were purchased at Ross Dress for Less. Let us not forget how (cheap) thrifty I am.

Hiatus

2010-03-23T18:39:00.005-04:00

In the four months since I have written, I've gained about ten new followers. Is that supposed to show me that people are encouraging my hiatus? lol

I have so many stories--stories about men, stories about teaching, stories about family and friends and the crap apartment in which I live. I have stories! Unfortunately, I'm a teacher and therefore many of my stories are not ones I should share in a public forum. Good thing this isn't a public forum! (Just kidding! I'll be keeping all the juicy stuff to myself. I'll also be pretending there actually is juicy stuff to keep to myself. :)

A few snippets to get you started:

-As I sit here, I can tell that the neighbor is taking a shower due to the dying animal noise coming from the pipes. This is the same neighbor that convinced maintenance to come to my apartment last week at 1:30am because his hot water heater wasn't working. The water heater for the entire building is in my walk-in closet. Let's just say that I picked the wrong night to sleep in my undies.

-I think that one of my exes may have broken up with his fiance. And that is all that I'm going to say about that. In writing...

-I exercised last night and have been walking around all day with jiggly jello legs. I could hardly get off the carpet today. I should have considered that third graders do not have a lot of upper body strength before siting down when I knew I'd be unable to get up.

-My sister now has a boyfriend who thinks he lives at my apartment. He told my sister today that I could get lead poisoning from the opened can of garbanzo beans I've been storing in the fridge. My first thought was, "Does lead poisoning cause blindness, because at least that might prevent me from having to see a thousand of his hairs ALL OVER MY BATHROOM!"

Anyway, there will be more to come. You'd be surprised how much can happen in four months!

And oh how I have missed each and every one of you!
Crazy Charm

Teacher Fears

2009-11-06T16:24:00.005-05:00

I feel like teaching is an extremely stressful career. I have so many things to worry about every single day.

-Did I unknowingly leave someone out at recess/at the bathroom/etc.?

-Did all of my students get on the correct bus when going home?

-Did my students actually give me all of the very important notes that their parents sent in from home or am I going to let Johnny get on the wrong bus because he turned his mom's note into a paper airplane?

-Are the directions on the homework that I sent home clear or are parents going to send me angry emails because their child doesn't know what to do (even though we have been doing the EXACT same problems in class for a week)?

-Was it inappropriate when I said, "Stop running around like a chicken with your head cut off!"

-Was I too hard on a student when he started to cry after I discussed with him why it was not appropriate for him to run screaming down the hallway (so loudly that ALL of the other teachers shut their doors).

-Does that homemade birthday treat have peanuts in them even though I can't actually see or smell any peanuts, and is my allergic kid going to swell up like a blow-fish?

-What if one of the students that I would not let get an emotional icepack from the nurse was really injured? (Really though, if I sent down every kid that asked to go to the nurse, child services would be in here investigating. One asked to get an icepack today for a non bleeding paper-cut.)

These are just a few examples of the worries that are running through my mind every single second of every single day when I'm teaching. When you're a teacher you are responsible for LIVES--but not rational adult lives. Teachers are responsible for:

-Children who escape from the playground during recess and try to walk home because, "I missed my mommy."

-Children who try to put an entire hamburger in their mouths at once because, "I wanted to see if I could."

-Children who pull the fire alarm because, "I wanted to see what would happen."

-Children who get lost between the classroom and the lunch room and have emotional breakdowns in the hallway.

Teachers are also held responsible by parents--for everything. Kids tell there parents EVERYTHING. This means that every word that comes out of my mouth and every move I make must be appropriate, professional, and rationale.

If I would lose my patience (and my mind) just once and tell a kid to sit his ass down, I would be finding myself a new career. Do you know how many times a day I want to say, "Sit your ass down!"? or "Get away from me!" It's a lot. Let me assure you of that. But instead, I say, "Sweetie, I need for you to sit on your pockets, immediately. Thank you." and "I need you to be a patient waiter and give me two giant steps of personal space."

How terrifying is that my career is in the hands of seven year-olds who eat their boogers?

What about you?? What's the most stressful part of your job?

The Never-Ending Tattletales

2009-11-04T15:24:00.004-05:00

When I was in college, I thought I wanted to teach preschoolers or primary children. However, the gods of teaching had other plans for me. Most of my teaching experience has been in the upper grades, 4th and 5th specifically, and I've loved it. At that age, kids are still cute and sweet but also independent. Plus most of them haven't started to smell yet. You also don't have to worry about them getting lost on the way from the bathroom to your classroom .. two doors down the hall (usually. There are always special cases.)

Now that I am in the younger grades, I find that there are both challenges and benefits to working with second and third graders. The benefits are that they usually have an extremely positive outlook on everything. They still have the exuberance that comes from being young and carefree. School is still fun and exciting for them.

However, the most annoying challenge, by far, is tattling.

"Sarah flicked me."

"Evan took my pencil."

"Julia wrote on my paper."

"Jake looked at me funny."

"Susie called me ugly."

"Liz said she didn't care that it's my dog's birthday today."

And on and on and on and on and on and on and on...ALL FREAKING DAY LONG! I just want say, "If you are not bleeding, going to throw up, or on fire, I don't want to hear it!"

But, of course, I never say that because I am afraid I would get an email from some kid's mom that said, "Trenton said that you..." Hmm. Wonder where they get it from?

Attention Shoppers

2009-11-01T11:17:00.003-05:00

In addition to my semi permanent, full time teaching job, I work weekends at a huge retail store. I didn't quit, even after starting my full time teaching job because the people are nice, it appeals my OCD tendencies of folding and refolding clothes, and well the discount is ridiculous. I love me some shopping.

I also have met and helped a lot of really nice customers. One woman in particular seeks me and only me out when she needs help because, "I'm easy to deal with". No one has ever said this about me before, and I think she may be delusional, but I thought it was nice of her regardless.

As it is common in every job, there are a few coworkers that try to make my life miserable. I just want say, "Chill out, stop bossing me around, and realize that you are working retail. We're not saving lives here." These are the people that start having a meltdown when the dressing rooms are exploding with clothes and we're short staffed. Please. Spend a few days teaching seven year olds, then we'll talk stress.

The only thing that significantly ruffles my feathers is when a customer tries on a shitload of clothes, hangs nothing up, and leaves them scattered around the dressing room floor. Now, I get that this occasionally happens when you have one of those "NOTHING FITS" freak outs and run out the door to the McDonald's across the street for a large order of fries. Oh wait, that's just me?

You would be shocked to see how many adult women do this--at least half of all female customers. How can you do this and not be a little embarrassed of yourself. I get that it's not your job to put them away, and I certainly don't expect you to. I get paid the big bucks to do that. Ha. But really, who do you think you are that you can't hang them on the rack provided right outside the fitting room?

What about you? What's your biggest job related pet peeve??

A Line in the Sand...

2009-10-28T00:15:00.001-04:00

My sister came in my room tonight and asked if we had any food she could take to her boyfriend's. He doesn't cook. Surprise, surprise. I directed her to the chicken in the fridge and the pasta in the cabinet.

She said, "I don't want to make anything."

Meaning that she wanted to take something I'd already made. I reluctantly told her she could take the organic homemade veggie pizza I made yesterday. Then, I asked her how she'd like the chicken I was planning on making tomorrow.

She said, "I'd like you to make it with some spice or something because lately your chicken has been tasting kind of chickeny."

She emphasized the word "chickeny" with the most disgusted face I've ever seen. And then I lost my mind. Because she does this all the time. I never get a thank you for anything that I do, but she's always quick to criticize. I told her if she doesn't like the chicken I make her, then perhaps she should make her own, because I certainly don't see her cooking a damn thing around here. Then she gave me some under her breath lip, because that's what she does, she can't have an argument because she's an avoider. She runs away and mumbles things under her breath. I yelled after her that she'd be buying her own groceries from now on, too, because I'm done.

I don't ask for a lot. Seriously, I don't. As I've mentioned before, I do everything around here. The only thing I don't do on a regular basis is her laundry, and that's because my parents usually come pick it up, take it home, wash, dry and fold it, then return it a couple days later. She's going to be 21 soon. It's ridiculous.

I texted my mom to let her know that she should no longer put my sister's grocery money in my account, because she will be doing her own shopping and cooking as I can no longer put up with her lack of appreciation for everything I do.

The solution? My mom is planning on making all of my sister's meals for the week and bringing them over on the weekend for her. She's 21 years old. And of course, I am the problem. Apparently, "this is not how I was raised" and I'm "selfish and not generous".

Really. Because I think that I'm smart to give her some responsibility, to force her to take care of herself. I've tried to explain to my mom, wouldn't you want to feel confident that if anything ever happened to you, you would know that your children could take care of themselves?

Nope, apparently not. Apparently, my parents plan to do her laundry and make her food, and pay her bills, and pick up her prescriptions for as long as they're alive. Because God forbid we stress her out by making her be responsible for herself. And there's no way she has enough time to do all those things. After all, she's a college student with a part time job who has spent the last 3 hours hanging out at her boyfriend's apartment. I have three jobs, by the way.

Priorities and responsibility...And obviously therapy is needed if having to cook your own meals and shop for your own groceries leaves you incapacitated by stress.

You're vegan? What do you eat?

2009-10-25T19:13:00.004-04:00

In the past year or so, I've redefined myself in terms of health, nutrition, and what I believe about food. My passion for clean living began after watching Sophie Uliano on the Oprah show. She talked a bit about organic food, recycling, and composting, but I was most interested in what she had to say about the poisons in our everyday beauty products. Coincidentally, I had a gift card to Barnes and Noble, and picked up her book, Gorgeously Green, the next day. I have to say, if you're a woman who is at all interested in the dangerous chemicals in your cosmetics and cleaning supplies, this book is for you. Sophie scares the shit out of you in and easy to understand step-by-step guide. You will throw out your scented Avon bubble bath, your pricey Lancome mascara, and ALL of your perfume without feeling any guilt. She's that good.

After reading her book, I've switched over entirely to truly natural cosmetics and body products. I also only clean with two products, vinegar and baking soda. If you think I must be living in disgusting germ infested filth, you'll be surprised to know that not only do my friends think my apartment is annoyingly clean, but I have also not been sick in over a year. Of course, now that I've said that, I'll probably get H1N1, but I'll attribute that to the kids that sneeze in my face everyday and not my vinegar and baking soda cleaning regimen.

Gorgeously Green also included a lot of great info on eating a diet rich in nutrient rich, organic, unprocessed whole foods. I made some preliminary changes, but continued eating a lot of things included in a typical SAD.

In the past 6 months or so I have become obsessed with learning about holistic nutrition. I've spent my time reading several books, an obscene amount of blogs, as well as a lot of other super cool websites. Whoever said that knowledge is power was right. It's official. I've had the Cheetos scared out of me.

In all seriousness, what I have learned and the changes I have made have made me feel empowered and on my way to optimum health. I recently mentioned that I have adopted a vegan lifestyle. This fairly recent development has resulted in a lot of questions from friends and family (as well as a few eye rolls). I've gotten better in explaining why I choose to eat like I do. When my best friend's family first asked if I am willing to eat food out of pans that have been used to prepare meat or if that is against my beliefs, I replied, "Oh yeah. I'm not like that. I'm not vegan because I care about animals."

I thought I would answer lots of questions with a few fun facts about how/what I eat.

-Yes. I care about animals, but what I choose to eat and what I choose not to eat is a direct result of knowledge I have gained about optimum nutrition. The animal friendly lifestyle is a bonus.

-I do not eat any dairy or animal flesh. I also don't eat eggs. I don't miss either of these things at all. I don't crave them either. The most difficult part is making sure that foods don't unknowingly have diary in their list of ingredients. Lots of surprising things contain dairy like chips/crackers, organic dressings, soups and stews, etc.

-I do still occasionally eat fish and seafood. I am diligent to choose only types that have low levels of mercury contamination. I only eat about 1 or 2 servings a week.

-I don't substitute the absence of meet in my diet with an onslaught of soy. While organic soy in small quantities is fine. Soy mimics estrogen hormones in your body. If you eat products with conventionally grown soy, you are basically ingesting a pesticide/chemical cocktail.

-I drink very very very little alcohol. Eventually, I plan to eliminate it from my diet completely.

-I'm super preachy and annoying about my lifestyle but usually only to family and extremely close friends. The general public is spared from my "You might as well just pour the animal fat down your throat." and "You're slowly killing yourself!" comments.

- I eat a ton of veggies and fruits. And no, they are not all organic. I cannot afford that. I try to make the best choices that I can. I love sweet potatoes, kale, carrots, green, yellow, and red peppers, cucumbers, zucchini, squash, tomatoes, berries, apples, bananas, grapes, red cabbage, onions, peaches, green beans, all lettuces, etc.

- I didn't eat a lot of veggies before I became vegan, and now I actually crave them. Amazing, isn't it??

-I eat an extremely limited amount of processed foods. The processed foods I do eat are vegan and usually organic.

-Cooking vegan has helped me to discover the power of herbs, spices, and my one true love...garlic.

- I try to avoid white potatoes, white bread, and other things made with white flour at all costs. They spike your blood sugar like crazy and have little to no nutrients. Not all vegetables are made equal. Sometimes, I fail. However, I have managed to avoid french fries for a couple months. That in itself is a miracle for me.

-It is my ultimate goal to eventually be gluten free, as well. Gluten, the protein found in several common grains, mainly wheat, is difficult for the body to digest. While I do not suffer from celiac disease, there are many health benefits gained from a gluten free diet.

-My main weakness, in terms of health and nutrition, is candy. I don't eat that much, but I'm pretty sure that I am still addicted to processed sugar. Considering I do not eat white sugar or high fructose corn syrup in any other foods, my new goal is to eliminate this worthless food as well as the belly fat that goes along with it.

Feel free to ask me any questions. I really will not be offended or taken aback. I understand that this way of eating is weird to a lot of people. Really. I grew up eating Easy Mac weekly and meat at every meal. Plus I work with kids. They eat some really gross stuff. I've also been watching a Man vs. Food marathon all afternoon. Ha!

I will not let you bring me down, Evil Facebook ..

2009-10-06T20:43:00.006-04:00

I learned today via Facebook that my ex (and I use that term loosely) proposed to his now fiance at the big college football game. There was a banner ... and at least 50 people from my high school. Did I mention it was raining?

Yes Evil Facebook, you have bitch slapped me yet again, but I REFUSE to let you bring me down. After all, I had a great day. I worked out and made soup and vegan banana ice cream. So yes, you, Mr. Facebook can suck it.

I'm a little surprised with how I feel. I feel pretty rationale, pretty fine with it. I know that I would never want to be with the ex, and I'm sure he's much happier with his fiance, too. I know that I am a completely different person now than I was two years ago. Two years ago I was a mess. I had no idea who I was or what I wanted out of life. I'm still eccentric and a full of crazy charm, but I'm so much happier. Here's why:

-Despite the fact that I'm not fully employed, I love what I do and I'm good at it and I know that I will eventually be in the position for which I'm waiting and it will be so worth it.

- I'm independent and I love it. I'm not afraid of being alone, because I know it would be a far worse fate to end up with someone who isn't right for me.

- In the past couple of months, I taken control of my health and everything I believe about achieving health through becoming vegan. (More on that to come!)

-I'm working towards being a more positive, happy, glass half full person.

-In two years, I've made better friends than I have ever had before.

If you would have told the Debbie Downer that I was two years ago that I would be happy for the ex, be vegan, have a positive outlook on life, and have friends that I actually like, I would have laughed in your face. I probably would have also told you I love cheese. It just goes to show that anything is possible, and if you believe in something, you can change.

P.S. If the future love of my life is reading this, please don't propose to me at a sporting event, and feel free not to invite anyone with whom I went to high school. Also, I really don't need a banner--I mean, unless it's made using recycled paper, printed with soy ink, and compostable. Oh, and I don't need a blood diamond either, maybe something antique or made by a local craftsman. Actually maybe we should have a commitment ceremony, because we all know how I feel about the fact that marriage isn't a right for all people. I'm also planning on wearing red to the ceremony, because white washes me out, and that traditional crap isn't really me. And how would you feel about being a stay at home dad for a few years??

And yes, I'm sure there are bets being made by my family for if and when I will ever get married. Now you know why. :)

Swine Flu Watch '09

2009-09-29T18:26:00.002-04:00

My mom called today to let me know my sister is feeling a little better. I forgot to mention yesterday that she was given the rapid test and tested negative. HOWEVER, the rapid test is only 40%-69% accurate when testing for H1N1. Therefore, any reputable doctor/nurse/etc. recommends treating based on symptoms. Of course, because she has all the symptoms, her doctor was smart and recommended she heed all precautions for swine flu (because she has it, oink oink). My message here is if you think you have H1N1 and you have the symptoms, you probably do.

As for me, I'm still being very careful to monitor anything that might be a symptom, considering that I work with kids and people who have compromised immunity. I had a headache this afternoon, but after a precautionary 2 hour nap, it's gone! After my evening routine of watching back to back reruns of Medium and doing yoga, I'll be enjoying an Epsom salt bath. Epsom salts draw toxins and stress from the body. Plus, it's just relaxing. I'm also looking into dry brushing for improved circulation and detoxification.

I know. It's tough being a semi-jobless hippie, but somebodies gotta do it.

My sister brought home swine flu...

2009-09-28T19:08:00.004-04:00

Yep. Somehow, though I managed to work with over 1000 germ infested kids in the past month and not bring anything home (that I know of) my sister managed to bring home swine flu. Thankfully, I had little contact with her, (because I knew she was going to get it from either a) not sleeping b) eating poorly c) stress or d) her boyfriend) and my parents took her and her two for a dollar mask home. I'm certainly glad my tuition is going toward the good stuff at the University Health Center.

Me: "Is your mask supposed to move away from your mouth when you talk? Just wonderin..."

I'm left to dispose of her toothbrush and to wash the 6 glasses, 2 two plates, and a shit load of swine flued up silverware she'd conveniently forgotten to bring from her room into the kitchen.

Her symptoms are currently very minor, but she has to be more careful because of her asthma. I am worried, but I hope she goes home, gets some rest, and gets better. Part of me hopes to get it now and get it over with. (Did you hear they're tracking/analyzing/researching the symptoms of everyone that gets the vaccine? Now, maybe I'm wrong, but in my Rocks for Jocks science class, I learned that generally research comes before implementation. However, that's for important rock studying, not something with which millions of people that are going to be injected. So, what do I know anyway?)

However, if I don't get swine flu (H1N1 for you politically correct folks with your panties in a bunch), I will feel like an immunity all-star. And those of you with children in our school system, have no fear. One sneeze and I will be at home watching a day or two (or five) of Lifetime movies.

I know, I know. No need for thanks or praise. I'm just a considerate person :)

2009-09-22T18:50:00.000-04:00

When I was in high school, I discovered yoga. During that time, I was in the best shape of my life both mentally and physically.

Newsflash...Those days are long gone. I'm still flexible, but this weird thing seems to have happened to my arms. They've morphed into some jello-like substance. Seriously, there is jiggle AND wiggle. In addition to shaping up, the fact that yoga got me through the emotional Olympic event that was high school, I thought it would help with my current mental state of "just trying not to have a breakdown".

Imagine my excitement after doing a little research, when I discovered a website where you can download audio yoga classes along with a pdf containing images of each pose in the sequence. You can even put the audio files onto your iPod. There are tons of free 20 min. classes that fit right into my budget. The longer classes are reasonably priced for those of you (not catching up your blog reading on awkwardfamilyphotos.com all afternoon) with careers and money. Now I'm sure my favorite yogini, Braja, is questioning the authenticity of this yoga, but at least I'm not watching it on TV. Also, the classes are instructed by people who have dedicated their lives to yoga, as opposed to say, Denise Austin.

So far, I've tried five classes and considered forgoing brushing my teeth this morning, because my arms hurt so bad. Success!

My one qualm is that it seems every freaking class includes the plow pose.

Now I'm not sure if it's because I got stuck like this for five minutes or because my gut was slowly cutting off my air supply, but I hate this pose! I've decided to substitute the pose below instead.

I like to call it the face plant. Come to think of it, it kind of reminds me of my college days...

Washy Wednesday

2009-09-20T14:36:00.001-04:00

I think I've mentioned before that I live with my sister. She's a junior in college and majoring in "nutrition" (that's a story for another day). As I was washing dishes the other day, I realized, I am the apartment mom. Why? Because, daily, I feel the need to ask her, "What exactly would you say you do around here?"

To put it in perspective, I've composed a list of things she has NEVER done in our apartment. She has never:
-taken out the bathroom garbage
-cleaned the bathtub
-cleaned a window, anywhere
-replaced a light bulb
-mopped the kitchen, bathroom, or entryway floor
-dusted...anything
-vacuumed the living room, dining room, or stairs
-bought weekly groceries (seriously)
-payed a bill
-picked up the mail
-checked to make sure the door was locked, you know so we don't get robbed
-watered a plant
-turned off all the lights before she leaves.

I also estimate the ratio of the dishes I wash to be about 20-1.

Oh, and did I mention that we've lived here for a year and a half?

Can you hear me now?

2009-09-16T21:13:00.000-04:00

I survived my first day as a substitute teacher! Oh, and the kids did, too! That's important, right? (I've been working in one of the schools for a couple weeks now, but instead of subbing, I've been working on another data based project.) The highlights of my first official day as a substitute teacher included:

-two trips to the nurse (Relax. Only one involved blood.)
-wearing not one but two microphone packs
-getting hives on the insides of my legs

The best part of my day took place when one of the two kiddos who use hearing devices came into the room after retrieving his pencil from the playground. (I didn't even ask why he took his pencil to recess. Believe me, it is not worth it.)

He walk in and said, "Do you have your mic on?" I looked down to my packs and saw that it was.

"Can you hear me?" I asked. "I toggled my on/off button and asked again, "Can you hear me, now?" Nothing.

Eventually, we figured out that his was on mute. When he turned it on, my first response was, "Can you hear me now? Ha. I feel like the Verizon guy."

As soon as I said it, I got real nervous, real quick. Thankfully, he had a great sense of humor, laughed, told me I was funny, and hugged me.

I'll probably have swine flu within a week.

Only you...

2009-09-14T20:28:00.002-04:00

I hear variations of this phrase all of the time. "Only you!" or "That would ONLY happen to you!" or my favorite, "That WOULD happen to you!"

For example, I have this new thing where every time I wear a skirt I end up with itchy quarter sized hives on the insides of my legs. When it first happened a few weeks ago, it looked pretty severe and I ended up driving myself to the hospital at midnight. (It's because of instances like these that the allergist won't give me an EpiPen. Apparently driving to the hospital at midnight for hives that resemble chub rub is overreacting). They gave me some super powered antihistamine steroid that I had to take for a WEEK and sent me on my way. This same thing has happened three times since, but because I refuse to take anymore steroids, it's operation Benadryl over here.

Oh or how about this past Saturday evening when I received a text from an unfamiliar number at one in the morning. Within the thirty seconds it took me to respond "Whose this?" then respond again "Oops who's" (because I didn't want my future husband to think I'm "special") I had convinced myself it was some boy I had met somewhere who had finally gotten the courage to Facebook stalk me, retrieve my number, and confess his love to me. With Taylor Swift's "Love Story" running through my head, "It's a love story...Baby just say yes..." I opened the new message,

"It's Mike, remember? Your old boss?"

Yep, I remember. I remember him being 50, married, and bald. Now THAT would only happen to me.

The Power Walker

2009-09-12T10:45:00.006-04:00

When I finished the school year, I was in the worst shape of my life. I could not understand why my skin and hair looked so bad or why I started sweating when I ate. OK. So I wasn't really sweating when I ate, but a temperature of 75 degrees had me hiding out in my apartment with the AC on full blast. I did what I knew I had to do even though I really did not want to. I started exercising again, after an entire year of sitting on my ass...

When I started walking with my sister, Fitness Barbie, I could barely make it up the hill beside our apartment complex. I was breathing so hard, I sounded like some kind of dying animal. That psycho took me on an hour long power walk. Seriously, she walks like this:

Since then, I've been walking, doing yoga, and occasionally venturing to the gym for the ever hated elliptical. I put it on "glute blast" and envision how good my ass is going to look. Seriously, it's the only thing that gets me through. When my sister and I walked up the hill the other day, not did I make it without sweating through my shirt, but I wasn't even out of breath afterward! My skin and hair are also better, and I haven't had to turn the AC on in over a month.

When I started taking better care of myself I discovered a wonderful blog by Meghan Telpner, Certified Nutritionist, Holistic Lifestyle Consultant, and super cute Canadian. If you're serious about your mental and physical health, you should head over her way. It's because of her blog that I'm eating foods and doing things I NEVER thought I would even try! Anyway, more on that to follow...

Obama for the Kids

2009-09-10T16:36:00.004-04:00

One of my three teaching related jobs requires me to test kids reading abilities through several different activities. During a training session the other day, one little kindergarten guy was speeding through his letters and sounds like a champ.

My supervisor congratulated him,"Wow you must have read a lot this summer! You really know your letters!"

The little guy nods, looks up at her and says, "Yep! President Obama taught me my ABC's!"

And this is exactly why I love my job :)

A Day in the Life ..

2009-08-26T15:10:00.004-04:00

So that new blog I was all excited about...I deleted it. I am so unmotivated. I think it's that whole jobless thing that's bringing me down.

I've been killing time for the past two weeks as I wait to begin subbing. On Monday, I discovered that I could watch True Blood online. So I did. I watched all 12 episodes of the first season and 10 episodes of the second season in the span of two days. That is a solid 22 hours of me laying in my bed staring at my computer screen. One of those two days, my sister came home to find me still in my pajamas at 8:00pm. She said that my eyes were glazed over. They were. I'm pretty sure there was also a body dent in my bed. It was bad.

I was kind of embarrassed of myself, so I decided to get up early today and accomplish some things. OK. I wasn't really planning on it, but my sister makes so much damn noise in the morning, it's impossible not to wake up. I thought about going back to sleep after breakfast but didn't want to feel like a waste of life.

I went to the library and picked up the copy of The Host that's been waiting on hold for me. When I came home, I made granola and fish for my sister to have when she got back from classes.

Ugh classes...I contemplated walking to campus and sneaking into a few classes. I decided against it--mostly because it's hot outside, and I really don't really care for sweating.

I spent the rest of the afternoon cleaning up my balcony container garden, secretly dumping the weeds/dirt in different areas of my apartment complex and hosing off the deck. I had to stop and sprint inside, because I spotted the downstairs neighbors making the angry face at me. While my old neighbors didn't mind the muddy slip and slide that made its way down to the first floor, I think these people might.

I should probably give you fair warning that this blog will most likely feature tales of my jobless tinkering until I start substitute teaching.

Example 1: Identity Crisis--My cucumbers that think they're gourds.

So, I guess I'm a real person now?

2009-08-02T20:32:00.002-04:00

So. Hey there. It's um, Crazy Charm. Remember me? Yeah. So where have I been? Well, while I would like to say I've been on a tropical vacation or working really hard...Not so much. I've been working at a part-time summer job, which has now commenced. Otherwise, I've been spending time reflecting on my life. In my bed. Under the covers. During several hours of daylight, each day. Yeah...

Anyway, it's official. I'm a graduate. I'm jobless. I'm poor. I'm bored. I'm manless. Oh, and I'm slightly chubby. Have I mentioned that lately?

I called my mom today, crying about my existential crisis and she reminded me that it could be worse. I could be living at home. Touche'. That would be much worse. Because even if I end up as a substitute teacher with a weekend job waiting tables in order to pay my rent, I am grateful to have a rent to pay.

I've been feeling kind of lost, kind of unsure what I want to do with my life. Yes, I love teaching. Yes, it is my niche and it is my passion. But I don't think it's my only passion. There is something that has been stirring under the surface for so long, something that I cannot keep to myself anymore.

I'm becoming kind of a hippie. Big time. Let me explain. I do not have dreadlocks, nor am I dabbling with any illegal substances. However, the more I learn about sustainability, organic foods, eating locally, minimizing waste, recycling, and truly understanding what I am using and what I am putting into my body, the more passionate I become about everything and anything environmentally friendly.

My friends and family cannot take being my sole outlet for all that I learn anymore. My mother no longer wants to hear about the what the aspartame in her Diet Pepsi transforms into in her body. (formaldehyde anyone?) My sister does not care about the ingredients in her fake diet butter. I don't know about you but I need for my butter to be made from milk (preferably even milk from cows that have not been injected with hormones or treated inhumanely.)

So what's a girl whose slightly depressed about the current state of her life to do when she finds a new passion and her friends and family cannot stand to listen to her fun facts, anymore? Duh! She blogs about them.

And with that I introduce you to my new blog: Emerald City. In this blog, I will be accomplishing one goal a day for an entire year. Most goals will be environmentally themed, but I promise to do my best to not be preachy. Other goals might involve something like folding my laundry within a reasonable time after washing. I'm told my current average of two weeks is not reasonable. Perhaps, I'll even make a goal about exercise. Oh sweet Jesus.

I'll be blogging about my goals and my success. I'll even been telling you about my failures. All of my goals will be completed in an effort to begin my very best life as a real adult. I hope you'll come along for the ride.

P.S. Don't worry. I'll still be posting here, too (hopefully more frequently)!

Friends from the past...

2009-07-05T14:39:00.003-04:00

I got together with a couple of friends from high school the other night. Perhaps, I should preface this with the back story that it has taken me all four years of college and then some to recover from the awkward moments of my adolescence. The town I grew up in has a reputation for sucking people in and holding them there forever. I think it's for this reason that I've avoided not only the area but the people I knew there as well. Even so, some of my friends and I get together a couple times a year, gossip about people we used to know and what they're doing now, and relive some of the good times.

It's so funny how you can go months without seeing someone and then reunite as if no time has passed. My one friend and I got ready together then headed out for dinner and drinks at one of my favorite places while we waited to meet up with other friends to see some fireworks. Of course, when I'm with people from high school, there is never a dull moment.

On the way up to the fireworks, I had to pee. Bad. You know, that kind of bad where you're not sure if you're going to pass out, pee your pants, or cry. Being on the college campus, I hit up every secret bathroom that was always left unlocked during my college career only to come up empty handed.

Ouch...They've truly kicked me out.

After joining the line for the ONE porta potty, I just tried to hold on.

Actually, I was white knuckling it. When I was sure it couldn't get any worse, the last girl in front of me walks out and says, "I think the toilet is overflowing. The floor is soaked." I looked at her, nodded, and said "Yeah, that seems about right."

I was wiping my flip flop/pee covered feet in the grass during the entire firework's show. Oh, and my friend almost rolled down the hill. Don't worry though, one of our teachers from high school was there to catch her.

I kid you not...

Amish Amazement

2009-07-01T20:52:00.003-04:00

My parents went to our local farmer's market today which features a host of traditional Amish selling their tasty treats. I say this as I lick a plate that briefly held a pecan tart. Yum!

Midyear, my class and a few others went on a field trip to a few local museums and other fun sites. My coworker and I let a group of a few of the more, um, interesting children. Let's just say that I got my workout in chasing them around the city that day.

Weeks after the trip, I was reminiscing with the kids about some of the highlights that we all really enjoyed. One of the little guys that just so happened to be in my group happily called out, "I was so bad on that twip! I touched evewything. Weally, evewything!"

Uh, true. At least he enjoyed himself.

Anyway, one of the kiddos mentioned that they really enjoyed seeing the "Amish kids". Of course they did. The trip followed an intensive two week study of traditional Amish culture and lifestyle. Imagine my surprise when we see a group of Mennonite students walking into the museum and one of the girls in my class whispers in amazement, "Are those kids Amish?" I tried to explain, but only got out, "Sort of..." before having to run across the lawn to chase down one of the kids who was trying to climb a tree, a government tree.

When I came back, tree climber in tow, I see every single one of my kids with their cameras out, waving and taking pictures of the "elusive Amish".

I guess I forgot something when teaching about Amish culture. Oops...

Water Baby

2009-06-22T15:39:00.003-04:00

Things to remember before I make my next trip to the pool:
1. Shave legs
2. Shave arm pits
3. Remember a towel (I received more than one disgusted glance for sweating all over my chair.)
4. Take iPod so I don't have to listen to people making fun of me in a slew of languages I can't understand
5. Either do sit-ups or buy a tankini...with a skirt...and perhaps a matching sarong (You know the tankini will win on that one.)

Thankfully, I did remember my Water Babies SPF 50!

Don't let a man put anything over on you except an umbrella.

2009-06-06T14:10:00.003-04:00

It's so secret that my dating history has been a bit, well disastrous. After my last loser boyfriend, I decided I needed a little man break. Honestly, the longer I'm away from them, the less I miss them. It's true that I have a love hate relationship with men. I love how they look, give me attention, can change a flat tire, and can kill bugs. I hate how they're almost all idiots.

No I don't hate men as a gender. I have male friends. I work with a lot of talented, competent, great guys, too. It's just the boyfriend factor. Despite my bad experiences and distrust, I realize I can't swear off men forever. And therefore, I'm trying to be nicer to the boys I meet (ugh).

Though I feel I can take on the challenge independently, my friends and (more recently) colleagues disagree. I think it's the way they show their love...lol

And with that, I thought I'd share with you some of their best "setups gone wrong".

-One night my very best friends and I were all out at a dance club. Though they were all there with their boyfriends, they started scanning the room for potential hotties...for me. Five minutes later, I see them sauntering over to an entire table full of obviously flamboyantly gay guys. They're all talking until I see my friends point me out in the crowd. Shock and awe. That is the only way to describe the look on our faces, the guys and mine that is. My friends just looked innocently confused.

- That very same night, my friends tried to set me up with these enormous, scary football players. I fled the dance floor when I saw the Hulk getting up to come dance with me. My friends found me hiding in the ladies room.

- Once, my friends encouraged me to give my number to a cute guy, even after he told us to call him, "The Cheese".

- One of my friend's boyfriends moved into a new apartment with a couple of guys. My friend was adamant that she was going to set me up with one of his new roomies. When I asked questions like, What does he look like? or What does he do?, she just shrugged and said she'd never met either of them.

And so I continue living my life by one of my favorite quotes:

“There are easier things in life than trying to find a nice guy...like nailing jelly to a tree for example.”

WTH, mate?

2009-05-31T22:02:00.002-04:00

You would think that after living with my soon-to-be nutritionist sister for the past two years, I would be used to her crap. News flash...I'm not.

After slaving over the stove all afternoon (evening, because I slept til noon), my sister walks through the door from her third date of the weekend. Yes, you read correctly. Third date. That's another story that I will have to tell later. It's a doozey.

She walks into the kitchen where I introduce to her my culinary creations and explain how each dish needs to be compiled and what ingredients go together before she tears into the bowl of fajita chicken and piles it on a piece of wheat bread.

"NOOOO. There are wraps in the refrigerator--not the mozzarella, the taco cheese."

I made some parsley potatoes and was letting them cool on the stove before I wrapped them up for the fridge. She walked into my room where I was working (napping) and said, "Uh when are you planning on putting those potatoes away. You know those are TCFs. I stare at her blankly. "Temperature Control Foods".

There may have been a hairbrush thrown. I can't deal with acronyms that are outside of my profession.

To puke and rally teacher style...

2009-05-24T17:02:00.002-04:00

Sometimes I wonder if people really understand what a lifestyle choice teaching is. For example, teachers do not have the ability to pee when they need to. Yes, I said it...Pee. When you're responsible for twenty odd children, you can't just get up at leave. You have to plan your pee breaks.

Some teachers have it better than others, as I do. When there are numerous people in your classroom, you have more of an opportunity to run out for a second or too. However, it's still difficult. I've spent many a lesson with my legs crossed.

Earlier this week, I encountered another interesting truth about teaching. Most teachers do not like to miss school. It's more difficult to plan and get everything ready for someone else than just go a little sick. So, we do that. We often go to school a little sick. And do not even leave comments about how we're endangering the health of the children. I know for a fact that is not true. Firstly, they have super germs. If there is germ transfer, it is always from them to me. They are constantly getting me sick. Secondly, teachers tend to wash their hands/disinfect/cover their mouths and noses significantly more frequently than the kids. I've had kids actually cough and sneeze in my face. SNOT IN MY FACE.

Anyway, I usually try to persevere. Until this week. This week, I experienced something I never imagined. I got sick in school. After getting a UTI, (probably from not having time to pee..ha!) the doctor prescribed me medicine I'd never taken before. Whatever, it would be fine. Right? Not so much. I started sweating profusely around 11am when we went out for recess. Then, I started doing that hands on the knees, heavy breathing, eyes closed action as I tried to regain control of my queeziness. I finally gave in and walked back inside to get a drink. Bad idea. When I was walking the kids in for recess my mouth started watering--a telltale sign that I was going to puke.

*They said that I pushed three kids out of my way while running to the bathroom. I deny that, by the way. I'm pretty sure it was only one kid, and it was more like a nudge than an actual push.

After I puked, I felt a lot better and was sure I could make it through the rest of the day. That's right people. I puked and rallied. If you haven't heard this phrase before, you probably did not attend the type of college I did, or maybe you just don't have the type of friends I do, the type that puke and rally. Obviously, the people I work with are not still in this mindset as no one chanted, "Puke and rally! Puke and rally!" in the faculty lounge.

This great story ended when I went to lunch, ate an apple, and puked again. In the faculty bathroom. Where everyone could hear me. They made me go home after that. Really. They got my things together and pushed me out the door.

All in a day's work!

Intern of the Year

2009-05-06T22:30:00.000-04:00

My mentor rarely asks me to make copies, but when she does I usually forget how many she wants by the time I make it to the copiers. It's not that I'm that forgetful, but on the trip from the classroom to the faculty lounge, it's inevitable that I run into more than one person who asks about my day or how I'm doing, thus distracting me. Darn those friendly people! :)

Anyway, for my most recent copying adventure, I was determined to not be detered from the task at hand. I walked down the hall, mumbling under my breath,

"12, 12, 12, 12, 12, 12, Hi there! How are you? Oh great! Me too! Have a nice afternoon. 12, 12, 12, Excuse me, Mr. I think you should get back to your classroom. Why yes, I did actually see you throw a wet paper towel at your friend there. Back to class, please. 12, 12, 12, 12, 12, Here you go, I can tie that shoe for you, little kindergartener. 12, 12, 12."

Oh yes! I had made it. I had persevered through the distractors. I had maintained my focus. 12, 12, 12. I flipped the paper over and slid it in the copier. I punched in the number, 12. I gathered the copies in my hand turned them over to see...

my mentor had put a post-it on the paper to remind me...That's a picture of the copy above. And yes I did end up making 12 more, sans post-it.

There's no crying in teaching! (Yeah right...)

2009-04-30T20:00:00.004-04:00

My mentor and I have a running joke about the fact that I have not publicly cried yet this year. While this might seem odd, there's a lot of crying in this internship. It's not uncommon to see at least one intern crying in the hallway through the course of a week.

When I told her about my accomplishment, she laughed and said that she must not be hard enough on me. I think that the consensus is that I'm just not a crier, but the truth is that I prefer the privacy of my apartment, car, or the faculty bathroom for my emotional breakdowns.

My streak was very nearly broken today. It's so easy when I'm in my classroom armed with rose colored glasses to forget that for many children, coming to school is an escape from otherwise tumultuous lives.

Most of the time, I try not to think about these things, because unfortunately, there's not a whole lot I can do about it. Also, feeling pity does not help anyone. Instead, we try to make school as wonderful an experience as possible for these students.

Unfortunately, ignoring things never makes them go away, and often we're faced head-on with these issues. And on days like that, days like today, it's very hard to hold back the tears.

Bad, bad blogger

2009-04-09T10:55:00.003-04:00

I've been a bad blogger lately. I haven't been commenting or reading any of the blogs I follow. I've been so busy with work and school that I've been neglecting the only creative outlet that keeps me sane. The stress of it all finally got to me yesterday. I was so tense and anxious and just plain stressed about a looming deadline that I ended up physically sick.

I still feel like hell and took a sick day today. I think it's part physical health, part mental health. Did I mention that I have to go home for the Easter weekend? I just can't wait to see everyone at mass! Um, not. I'm still waiting for my family, who I love, to be reasonable and move out of that God awful town so I don't have to be burdened by the possibility of running into people with whom I went to high school. That's reasonable, right?!

Anywho, I'm hoping to get back on track with my reading and commenting next week. I truly miss y'all! I'll leave you with this incident that occurred yesterday during my reading group.

Me: Guys and gals, I need my reading group on the carpet in a circle.

I watch as J makes his way over, dancing and humming. He sits down in the circle and breaks out in song.

J: I like big butts and I cannot lie. Those other brothers can't deny...

Me: J, that's not really appropriate for school.

J: But it's a real song!

Me: Yes, very I'm familiar with Sir Mix-A-Lot.

J: What's that?

They really know how to make me look good...

2009-04-04T11:34:00.003-04:00

I taught a really horrible lesson the other day. I'm talking embarrassingly bad. Really. It was about divisions of power and townships and seriously what the hell do I know about government? Well, what I do know about government, I certainly can't share with a bunch of 8 and 9 year olds...

Anyway, I thought I had redeemed myself with a riveting science lesson the following day. The kids were engaged. They were making connections and answering questions thoughtfully. And, shit. I even knew what I was talking about.

After the interactive portion of the lesson during which we were modeling how a metamorphic rock is formed, I brought them back to the carpet to debrief and examine some actual rocks. Just then I see two of the kiddos get up and walk to the back of the room where my mentor and our para were sitting. I assumed they were getting a tissue or going to the bathroom, you know, something acceptable. I thought that until I saw my mentor laughing.

She later told me that they came back to check the time. They were sure that my lesson had to be over soon. Thanks, guys... Thanks!

Well, he's got a point...

2009-04-01T18:54:00.004-04:00

A good friend (and fellow intern) told me about a word study lesson she taught the other day in her fourth grade class. After learning about homonyms, the kiddos were to brainstorm a list of of their own pairs and write a definition for each word.

She gets back the papers. One of the kids includes the following selections:

1. bitch
-A girl dog

bitch
-A mean lady

2. gay
-very happy

gay
-when boys like boys or when girls like girls

When the shock wore off, she wasn't sure what to do. She couldn't mark them wrong. After all, they are homonym pairs...

Vindicated

2009-03-30T12:15:00.004-04:00

I'm a big believer in fairness, equality, and getting what you deserve. A perfect example of these ideals presented itself in my classroom the other day.

My mentor was teaching a Social Studies lesson and organized the kids into groups to play, "A Very Fun Game". I wasn't playing as close attention as I probably should have, and when I looked around, my jaw dropped. The groups were shocking. We usually try to group the kids cooperatively, but I saw the kids with the very strongest personalities all grouped together. A recipe for disaster. Realizing that my mentor knows a lot better than my stupid ass, I tried to close my mouth before she spotted me. Unfortunately, she saw my "WTF?!" look and walked over. She whispered,

"The purpose of the game is conflict. The kids are playing a game without rules to understand their necessity."

Goal achieved.

One of the kiddos landed on a space ambiguously marked, "Move ahead". He said, "I'm going to roll again." I saw one of the other kids head start to explode. "That is not what you are supposed to do! You know that is not what that space means!"

"Too bad." The other little one rolled a six. He was still showboating when he landed on a space marked, "Lose a turn."

The little head exploder was so vindicated as he said, "Phh. Well. See. That right there is EXACTLY what you get for cheating."

It was difficult not to high-five him as I stood in the background mouthing, "You tell him!"

Talk to the hand...

2009-03-23T19:56:00.003-04:00

One of the little gems in my class often has trouble getting started with his work and then, well, staying started. Our paraprofessional had to redirect him several times the other day. After escaping from his seat, yet again, the para reminded him, once more, that he needed to sit down and get started.

J. turns, sticks out his butt and says, "Talk to the booty, cuz the hand is off duty!"

I could not make this shit up, seriously...

I blew out my pants, today...Twice

2009-03-18T22:39:00.006-04:00

I'm standing at recess with my hands in my pockets. I turn to crack my back and suddenly feel a breeze. I had blown the entire seem of my pants out. I wasn't too upset, considering I had just ripped the cheap seam and not actually exploded from them. However, the exposed region included upper thigh and was dangerously approaching my undies.

Fast forward fifteen minutes to me standing in the bathroom, pants off, turned inside out with the staple gun.

I'm adding "problem-solver" to my resume with the hopes of being asked to describe a time in the classroom when I demonstrated that particular skill.

Can you say, "Hired!"?

In Our Thoughts

2009-03-14T09:35:00.003-04:00

I'm sure you've all heard of Braja's terrible accident. Braja was one of the first people to make me feel like a member of the blogger community. She's a superb blogger and a lovely person.

Lisa is organizing a moment for bloggers to gather together, and send our thoughts to Braja, her husband, and their taxi driver.

Be sure to check it out.

Bringin' Sexy Back aka, Layin' in my Bed, Watching Movies

2009-03-12T18:09:00.005-04:00

This past week has been my Spring Break. It seems odd to call it that, as if I'm a real college student, or something, (psh). Anyway, it's a week away from the kiddos, and as I proclaimed in a recent post, a week to get my sexy back.

So how's it going? What have accomplished? How much work have I gotten ahead on? Have I gotten my sexy back?

Firstly, I have painted my toenails three times. The first smudged, and the second's color was something in the realm of "Trampville, USA". The final result is livable. So, my feet are definitely bringin' sexy back.

I've been gymin' it non-stop--until today. I pulled an ass cheek muscle. True story.

I've also been sick, just a sinus infection, but I went to the doctor. Actually, I *lucked out* and got scheduled with one of my student's parents. That's another post in itself! HA. My life as an awkward turtle.

Otherwise, I've hung out, caught up with my gal pals, and watched a crap load of movies. Really. I love movies, and I must have watched at least 10 in the past few days. I have a horrible short term memory, unless it's of something embarrassing, but here's my take on those I remember. Oh, and my rating scale is 1-5 margaritas. No one gives a shit about stars. Margaritas, people take seriously.

Australia: 4 Margaritas
A great movie. Long, but well worth the 2 hours and 45 minutes. More female friendly, but not your typical chick flick.

Zack and Miri Make a Porno: 5 Margaritas
This was soooo good/pee your pants funny. It's not *as* dirty as it sounds. I would actually label it a romantic comedy, emphasis on the comedy. Perhaps, I would call it a very boyfriend friendly romantic comedy. I can't remember the last time I laughed this hard.

Choke: 3 Margaritas
Based on the Chuck Palahniuk book (also the author of Fight Club), this film was sick and warped and very true to what I've heard about the book. The acting was great with an ending I didn't see coming.

Religulous: 3 Margaritas
Scary. Funny. Realistic. Provocative. Not for the devoutly religious.

Nights in Rodanthe: 4 Margaritas
I'm a little biased in that this film paired two of my favorite actors. It was pretty typical chick flick, minus the surgery sweet finale. That's probably why I liked it--very real, kind of dark, sad, inspiring, and a tear jerker.

Nick and Nora's Infinite Playlist 5 Margaritas
Hilarious! Really. This is not just for the teens. Describable as a very sweet, funny, feel good film.

My Best Friend's Girl 5 Margaritas
Scary good. Dane Cook and Kate Hudson are at their finest in this filthy dirty, hilarious, romantic comedy. A man friendly, pee your pants funny, good time.

The Women 2 Margaritas
Amusing. Entertaining. Not something I'd watch again, but not a waste of two hours. This one's hard to reflect upon. The view of powerful, smart, women was well conveyed. I think it was a little predictable, but still fun.

And before you all even say it, yes I know that my taste in movies mirrors that of a 15 year old boy.

As for that work I've been putting off, well I'm going to get on that immediately, after a nap, and a shower, and maybe a couple hours of reading. Or tomorrow. Shit, I suck.

Fatty Mcfatterson

2009-03-12T10:08:00.002-04:00

I just got on the scale and was perturbed to see that I haven't lost any weight. Then, I heard my little "You've got mail" noise. Don't worry. It's just a little chime. It doesn't actually say, "You've got mail." I'm not that much of a nerd. Usually...

The sender was Pizza Hut and the subject was "By Invitation Only".

And I wonder why...

What a pain in the .. head

2009-03-11T22:02:00.003-04:00

I have a splitting headache. Actually it feels more like a hangover, but I know that's an impossibility, because I haven't drank in weeks. I'm still recovering from my last late night adventure. Oh, I didn't tell you about that one, where I texted all three of my ex-boyfriends. Really. That's what I do. I have one margarita and the next thing you know, I'm giggling and won't tell my friends who I'm talking to. Why? Because I know they'll take my phone away and ruin my fun. It wasn't that bad though. Two of the ex's were highly amused. The other one, well I'm not really sure. His girlfriend answered my text. She didn't seem nearly as amused as I was. Go figure?

Back to the headache. While trying to decipher it's cause, I came up with two possible triggers.

1. I went to the gym today. I'm already sore. Actually, my ankle was sore before I even ventured to the gym. I'm thinking I injured it sprinting from my bed to the refrigerator during a commercial break. Anyway, sometimes, when I do something my body isn't expecting, like exercising, it gets pissed and gives me a headache. I like to think of it as my head's way of saying, "Bitch, we could have been watching Ellen."

2. I'm very sensitive to smells. I don't wear perfume and I think people who wear a lot are incredible assholes, or at least inconsiderate and rude. However there are some smells that are even more pungent than too much of Britney's latest fragrance. Let me just tell you that the gym was rank--b.o. central. I thought I was still stuffed up enough for it not to get to me, but an hour later (30 minutes, who am I trying to kid?), I was ready to puke.

Now I'm left with the kind of headache that pulsates when you stand up or move too quickly. My solution, laying in my bed watching TV all evening. Just like me, always making sacrifices.

I'm back!

2009-03-03T23:44:00.003-05:00

Many of you have been wondering where I have been lately. (Two people counts as many, right?) I have been off on many exciting (stupid-ass) adventures that have kept occupied for most of my day and nights.

School has been the joy the keeps me getting out of bed at the ass-crack of dawn, every morning. Oh, how I love running to my car in the frigid cold. Who needs a delay? (115 of the surrounding school districts). Not us. Because, how with a delay could I run out to my car, praying that my doors won't be frozen shut, again? How could I whip my car into Sheetz on two wheels to self medicate with a gallon of coffee. No, that wasn't my foot shaking under the table at our 10am meeting!

Don't worry, I don't spend all my time in school. I dared to venture out into college town for the local student created holiday. While waiting in line outside the bar, I saw two people fall down, one person get thrown out of line by the bouncer, and one almost puke moment. It was freakin' great. Did I mention it was 9:30pm? People were making asses of themselves, and I was loving it. Until we got inside. I met a friend of a friend who I now believe is my soul mate. I've never met anyone more like me. We were enjoying ourselves until Disgusting Boy stumbled over and asked her to make out. Subtle, right? Just when we thought he was gone, I felt something, but dismissed it. Then, I felt it again. Someone had grabbed my butt.

Oh. No. You. Didn't. Disgusting. Boy.

Furious, I turned around. "Did you just grab my ass," I asked.

"Maybe," Disgusting Boy slurs.

"What makes you think you can touch me. You are disgusting."

And then Disgusting Boy secured his fate, "Your ass isn't even that nice. In fact, I think your ass is kinda fat."

Oh. No. You. Didn't. Disgusting. Boy.

And then the shit hit the fan. Grabbing my ass was one thing, but insulting it--that's where you went wrong, Disgusting Boy, because everyone knows, I love my booty. It is my favorite feature, and no one talks smack about my ass. The expletives were flying. I had my left hand on my hip. My head was wiping around. My right pointer finger was doing the angry windshield wiper. I was pissed. I realized that several people around me had started chanting, "Slap him! Slap him!" I considered slapping him, but then decided against it. (It might have had something to do with not wanting to get kicked out when they were still serving dollar drinks.)

Finally, I composed myself, pulled myself away from the situation and turned back to our table. And then I felt it. Disgusting Boy was blowing in my hair. Who does that?! I realized that I was not going to be able to do anything to dissuade him, so I did what anyone who works with children on daily basis would do.

I told on him.

I walked over to the bouncers, batted my eyelashes, and I told on him. He was later escorted out. I loved it. I ended the night with a new view of tattling.

Bloggy Bling

2009-03-03T23:43:00.002-05:00

First, I'd like to thank Jo over at Under the Influence, for this beautiful blog bling. Because it was given in the spirit of the Oscars, I prepared a little acceptance speech.

Finally! Finally, someone else has recognized how truly fabulous I've always known I was. I'd like to thank all of my ex-boyfriends, my family, and the people by whom I am constantly surrounded for the comfortable chaos that is my life. Without their influence, I would probably be well-adjusted, devoid of social awkwardness, and not need therapy. What would I bog about?

Now, I'm supposed to list 5 things I'm addicted to (only five?):
1. men
2. sleep
3. books
4. food
5. complaining

Thanks, again Jo!

Theme Song Thursday; Yeah, I'm startin' shit.

2009-02-12T00:12:00.001-05:00

If there's one thing I'm an expert at, it's startin' shit. Despite my short time on the blogisphere, I've decided to start my own meme. I'm sure it's been done before. "Theme Song Thursday" is too brilliant an idea to be original. However, I've yet to see it, so here goes.

I love music, and I love personal theme songs. A personal theme song is a song that exemplifies one's essence, one's mood, or one's current view on life. Deep, I know.

This whole theme song business started when I was in high school. Instead of playing one song as the graduates' names were called and they walked to the stage, I thought it would be kick ass for each graduate to choose their own theme song to walk to.

After hearing that I wanted to walk to Milk Shake by Kelis, my idea wasn't taken to seriously. Their loss.

My first theme song is one of my all time favorite songs, a song that is so me, it's scary. Plus, I think it's only fair to feature my first true love, Maroon 5.

Join in the "Theme Song Thursday" fun! I'm not sure what the rules are for this type of business, if you're supposed to link to me, if I'm supposed to link to you? You do whatever you want. I'm a rule breaker and a fun maker.

Before I had even drank my coffee...

2009-02-10T21:09:00.008-05:00

One of my favorite students (Oh, shut up. Everyone has favorites.) almost made my head explode this morning. He's my favorite for many reasons. He talks to himself in this high pitched, mumble voice. He stands instead of sitting at his desk, and on the first day of school, he told me this was going to be the worst school year, ever. He also told me why, but I couldn't understand a damn word he said. I just smiled and said, "Well I'm so glad to be in your class this year!"

Since then, I've learned to translate his mumbles into words. I also love him, because he's helping me to bring high-fivin' back. That's right. Everyday, I check to see if he's done his DOL sentences. I make sure that he's actually making the corrections to the sentences on the board--not just copying them into his notebook (sneaky, little shit). After I see that he's made his corrections, I say, "Alright! Look at you rocking those DOL sentences. High-five! Don't leave me hangin!" He gets super excited and jumps up to slap my hand surprisingly hard for a kid that's about a foot shorter than his classmates. Did I mention that he starts every sentence with the phrase, "Sort of, like..." I freaking love this kid.

Today, he walked into class with his hand over his eye, pirate style. I stopped him at my desk,

Me: "Sweetie, why do you have your hand over your eye?"
Super cool kid: "Sort of, like..."
Me: "Did something happen to your eye? Move your hand so I can see."

He takes his hand down, and I spy some pink eye. But I'm a teacher, so of course, I didn't panic.

Me: "Oh my gosh! What is that?! It's pussing! Ew! Oh sweetie, I'm sorry. Does it itch? When did your eye get like this?! Let's go wash your hands! Somebody get the Lysol wipes! Is the nurse here yet?! Don't touch the faucet! Let me get it! Did you just touch my hand? I think I touched my eye. Where's the hand sanitizer?!"

Calm, cool, and collected. That's me. Later, someone asked, "Why in the world did his parents send him to school?" I opened my mouth to agree, but stopped as I remembered the dozens of times my mom pushed me out the door with some contagious illness, yelling after me, "See how you feel when you get to school!"

2009-02-05T06:15:00.005-05:00

Oops, I almost forgot to pass along my award. I'm not sure how many people I'm supposed to pass this award along to, but I'm not really one for following the rules, anyway. Therefore, I'm giving it to:

Queen Bee
Christine
Braja
Vodka Mom
Jo
Beth

Oh and perhaps I should mention the description again :)

"This award acknowledges the values that every Blogger displays in their effort to transmit cultural, ethical, literary, and personal values with each message they write. Awards like this have been created with the intention of promoting community among Bloggers. It's a way to show appreciation and gratitude for work that adds value to the Web."

V-card

2009-02-04T20:39:00.002-05:00

My award virginity was taken by Divine Chaos. The description of the award is as follows, "This award acknowledges the values that every Blogger displays in their effort to transmit cultural, ethical, literary, and personal values with each message they write. Awards like this have been created with the intention of promoting community among Bloggers. It's a way to show appreciation and gratitude for work that adds value to the Web."

Now I've been told about my values before (usually the questionable ones), but adding value to the web? What an undeserved compliment! Thanks so much for making my day, Divine :)

25 Things

2009-02-01T14:10:00.003-05:00

I know people usually do these "number of random things about me" when they've reached a certain number of posts. However, Bee tagged me on Facebook. Needless to say, I can't do this on Facebook. I have to many "friends" that I don't like. So here goes.

1. I hate antiperspirant/deodorant. HATE. I hate the way it feels, the way it is absorbed into your body, and that the aluminum in antiperspirant is linked to Alzheimer's. That being said, I also don't like to smell. I've tried a few natural products. Usually, my pits either break out in hives, or I smell like I've been working construction by 11am. Currently, I'm using Tom's of Maine. Sometimes, I smell, but I just try to keep my arms down and stay away from the air vents in my classroom.

2. I'm the most vindictive person I've ever met. I love me some revenge.

3. I have baby-fever. I try to keep it on the d/l, though. Apparently, men are scared off by 21 year old elementary teachers with baby-fever. Who knew?

4. I clip coupons and usually save about $5o on my grocery bill, every week.

5. I buy organic bath and body products, cosmetics, cleaning products, produce, grains, dairy, tea bags, etc. I also eat a lean cuisine every day for lunch. I like to think it all evens out.

6. I am allergic to dust mites, artificial fragrances, mold, trees, grass, flowers, plants, tropical fruit, cantaloupe, honeydew, kiwi, and all animals. I found all of this out last year. After spending 20 years complaining of not being able to breath right and having hives and being told, "You're fine", I feel pretty damn validated.

7. I've never hit anyone, but I've verbally assaulted hundreds.

8. I was anorexic in high school, and I loved it.

9. I hate all men and 50% of women. This means that I hate 75% of the total population.

10. Last summer, I went to therapy for a couple months. I was working on my man problems (how I hate them so much) and my OCD. I quickly realized a few things. My therapist was a douche bag, men should be hated, and there's nothing wrong with having a really clean house and checking to make sure the front door is locked every night before I go to bed..three times. The next day, I called my therapist's office and told him I was cured.

11. A souvenir from an emergency appendectomy last year, I have a raised, purple colored, three inch scar on my stomach. The nurses were taking off my nail polish, putting me under, and having me sign release forms simultaneously. You might be wondering, "Why did you wait until it got that bad to go to the emergency room, dumb shit?" Actually, I didn't. I went to the doctor the day before complaining of muscle spasms in my stomach. The doctor told me I must have exerted myself and strained the muscles. Trying to set him straight, I explained, "Unless I exerted myself walking from the couch to the refrigerator, I can't see how that is a plausible explanation." He told me I was overreacting and sent me home. Who's the dumb shit now?

12. I never put scar cream on it. I think it's hott.

13. My bathroom, kitchen, and living room are always spotless. And I keep all of my clean laundry, unfolded, on the couch. That's just how I roll.

14. I dream of owning a dog, a home, and other shit...Independently.

15. I'm extremely passionate. I either love or hate something. And I change my mind a lot. I could love something one day and hate it the next.

16. I love to make people laugh.

17. Rainy, overcast days are my favorite.

18. Lumineers cover my top four teeth. I didn't need them. I had a sexy, little gap in front but my dentist convinced me they were my only option. At the time he was building his mistress a new home and paying off his wife in the divorce. Coincidence? I think not. Two years later I charged in his office, demanded my medical history and x-rays and found myself another dentist.

19. I had my first roommate served with a restraining order and do not speak to any other roommate I lived with during college. Qualities that I lack for successful cohabitation include patience, the ability to share, and give-a-shit-ed-ness.

20. I love to read. Anything and everything.

21. I love the friends I've met in college. They encourage me to dance (terribly), are always there for me, and are genuinely good people.

22. I love and play sports, but I don't care about the Superbowl, the Final Four, or any other national sports event. I understand that athletes are talented and work extremely hard and generate a huge amount of revenue for businesses, but I can't get past the ridiculousness of a football player getting paid more than the President of the United States. I can't even get past the ridiculousness of a football player getting paid more than a teacher. Where are our priorities?

23. My favorite movies include, but are not limited to Old School, Unfaithful, Knocked Up, Superbad, and Bridget Jones' Diary. I also like any good drama. I hate scary movies. I can barely watch Ghost Whisperer on a Friday night.

24. My favorite color is red.

25. When I'm not hating men, I only date guys taller than 6'3''.

Where the **** are my shows?

2009-01-28T20:09:00.003-05:00

This is my reaction to tonights primetime edition of the CBS Evening News.

1. Where the **** are my shows? I wait all week to watch The New Adventures of Old Christine. What else to I have to look forward to? Not food. Damn you Biggest Loser!

2. Katie Couric: Seriously, fix your damn hair. I have no idea what look you are going for, but you look like you are sporting a toupee. Get that shit worked out.

You've ruined my night, CBS.

EDIT: Woot Woot. Old Christine, a half hour late. I forgive you CBS.

Mood swings, my ass...

2009-01-28T17:33:00.009-05:00

I've been a bit distracted from blogging due to this damn Biggest Loser competition. I'm happy to say I lost another two pounds last week. I'm unhappy to remember that the next weigh is less than two days away. And where the hell did that empty tortilla chip bag come from? Oh yeah. Shit.

Anyway, back to the 'mood swings'. A few weeks ago, my mom called to ask if my sister's 'mood swings' had improved. You see, she was recently diagnosed with an overactive thyroid. Despite that she'd only began experiencing symptoms during the past few months, this was said to be the reason behind her violent 'mood swings'. The intensity of the 'mood swings' is one determent for how much medicine (beta blockers, aka scary heart shit) she needs to take. I'm still perplexed as to which 'mood swings' the doctor and my family are referring. From my extensive experience, I know that she has one mood, asshole. This point was proven Monday night.

I've spent the past month scrambling to complete my certification paperwork. Some genius forgot to remind us lowly interns that the paperwork was due on the 28th of January. Thankfully, one intern found out about the deadline from her roommate, who is a traditional student teacher. (Who dropped the ball on that one? For once, not me :) The certification required a physical, TB test, and a physician's signature. I had completed all of these requirements during my yearly physical this summer. I was in the clear, right?

After being turned down for my doctor's signature on my physical paperwork, (My physical was seven months ago, and Geisinger will only sign paperwork for six months after a YEARLY physical. Yeah, you can suck it, Geisinger.) I persevered through two canceled university appointments and finally had all my i's dotted and t's crossed.

Not being able to venture to campus and turn in the packet myself, (They kind of like it when I show up at school on time and stay the entire day or something??) I asked my sister if she could drop it off for me. After all, she's on campus all day. And aren't all of her classes located in close vicinity to the education office?

Her response, "Well, I have class at 9. Then, I'd like to go to work straight from there and maybe the gym. Then I have a meeting. I can't promise you anything."

Me, "Do you realize that getting my teaching certification is the most important thing in my entire college career, that it determines my future teaching career and if I am going to even have one?!"

Her, "Well that's not my responsibility. It's not my fault you waited around until the last minute to turn it in."

I think that was around the point I lost my shit. I started crying, screaming and rambling incoherently.

From what I remember, Me, "Well, then I guess it's not MY responsibility to return your blockbuster dvd!" I sent the dvd flying across the room. "And not MY responsibility to do all YOUR laundry and buy YOUR groceries every ************* weekend. And not MY responsibility to pay all of OUR bills and get all of OUR mail."

This went on for a while. She sat at her desk, occasionally mocking me, "not my responsibility hahaha".

Now, if these 'mood swings' really are the cause of her behavior, I have only one thing to say. Somebody needs her meds upped.

2009-01-22T20:14:00.004-05:00

A couple of weeks ago, I, idiotically, joined the Biggest Loser competition at school. My competitive spirit made itself known with a first week's five pound weight loss. (And no, I did not strip down in the nurse's office! But I might have taken off my shoes and jacket, and um, my jewelery. What? That shit's heavy!)

Unfortunately, I'm weak and have not been as motivated this second week. I'm confident I maintained (please, God), but I'm not going to be putting up the big numbers this week. Did I mention every pound you gain is a dollar? Ha! Anyway, in anticipation for my second biggest loser weigh in, I've included my revamped version of Gym Class Heroes - Cookie Jar, one of my many theme songs.

Cookie Jar Video

I like snacks, they call to me
But I wanna look hott in my seven jeans
Want to be the one, "Biggest Loser", me
I wanna be faithful but I can't keep my hands out the cookie jar
My hands, my hands, my ha oh hands
Can't keep my hands (oh), my hands (oh), my ha oh hands (oh)
Can't keep my hands (oh), my hands (oh), my ha oh hands (oh)
Can't keep my hands (oh), my hands (oh)
My hands out the cookie jar

You see I got this problem I need help trying to solve it
Cuz meeting after meeting and I'm still a cookie-holic
You can hide 'em I'm gonna find 'em on the counter in the closet
And I'll say I ain't do it with my face covered in chocolate
My man keep setting boobie traps
To catch me eating scooby snacks
I left crumbs in the bed once but I told him I was through with that
He still don't be believing me but then guess that I'm cool with that
But I gotta sweet tooth
That will never come loose
And the truth of the matter is

I like snacks, they call to me
But I wanna look hott in my seven jeans
Want to be the one, "Biggest Loser", me
I wanna be faithful but I can't keep my hands out the cookie jar
My hands, my hands, my ha oh hands
Can't keep my hands (oh), my hands (oh), my ha oh hands (oh)
Can't keep my hands (oh), my hands (oh), my ha oh hands (oh)
Can't keep my hands (oh), my hands (oh)
My hands out the cookie jar

I could have had it
I didn't try my best
I went to Cookie Anonymous
I can't seem to keep my damn hands out the cookie jar but it is what it is...

Sisterly Bonding

2009-01-17T23:04:00.006-05:00

My sister and I are fire and ice, black and white, up and down, day and night. Simply put, we're polar opposites. She dances well. I have no rhythm (though give me a couple drinks, and shorty gets low .. yes, it's as ugly as it sounds). She is thin, works out daily, and is going to school to be a nutritionist. I'm a McDonald's preferred customer. She's Catholic and everything that comes with that all encompassing label. I subscribe to the beliefs of Cosmopolitan Magazine, karma, and a good man (or a bad one.. ha!).

I leave my cell-phone on during school because most people recognize that I have responsibilities and don't call me during school hours unless it is an absolute "someone is bleeding, our apartment blew up, there is a shoe sale" emergency. When I say most people, I'm of course excluding my sister. She texted me on Friday with, "Want to go to a movie with me tonight?!" I was cautious as she rarely wants to do anything with me, her sister. She's still too cool for school. When I inquired what movie we would be seeing, she told me it was a surprise. I should have known then.

Flash forward a few hours to the two of us waiting in line to see "Notorious". Typical.

And with that, I'm off to watch my probably illegal, bootleg, f-ed up color, online streaming version of Twilight, which I NEVER got to see in the theater. But at least I now know that Biggie Smalls got to bang both Lil' Kim and Faith Evans, visuals that are still burned into my retinas.

(The movie was actually excellent! Seriously. Unfortunately, anything is a let down when you're wishing it was Twilight.)

"I'm pretty sure there's a lot more to life than being really, really, ridiculously good looking. And I plan on finding out what that is."

2009-01-15T17:28:00.006-05:00

I have exceptionally high self-esteem. Really. I claim that I'm not cocky because I can recognize that while I have a great face, I also have a big ass. Though, I'm not sure that argument works, because everyone knows I love my huge ass. I'm the kind of person that can look in the mirror see past the minor flaws, and say, "I look hott." While I feel very good about myself most of the time (Being a women, I'm entitled to the occasional freak-out:).) I find that not everyone is as kind or complementary as me.

I'llAlwaysBeABee mentioned in her blog today how she trusts neither men nor women. While I have been victim to many a female frenemy, men never cease to make my blood boil with their utter stupidity. A perfect example that occurred just moments earlier via IM conversation:

**Stupid idiot man is a friend of a friend, an avid alcoholic, and a not-so-recent college grad who refuses to leave college. He's an all around "winner".

StupidIdiotMan: Are you going to that party this weekend?

Me (in a good mood, relaxing after a long day at school): I'm not sure. It's going to be soo cold out. I might choose to stay in. Regardless, I won't be drinking.

StupidIdiotMan: Why not?

Me (because I don't like you or half of the people that are going to be there??): Well, I'm doing this biggest loser thing at work and don't want to go out all weekend and be the office fatty.

StupidIdiotMan: That's probably a good thing for you.

Starting to get pissed Me: And what is THAT supposed to mean?

StupidIdiotMan: haha um, uh ..

StupidIdiotMan: Well, I mean it's good that you're trying to get healthy. haha

StupidIdiotMan: And one night of heavy drinking probably won't hurt.

Now, I've never been the type to let a man get away with anything. In the story of my life, I'm the villain. Though I've been offended, hurt, and just plain screwed over many times in my 21 years, I refuse to let anyone victimize me. I like myself far too much. Not to mention, I'm kind of a beeyotch. :)

Me (vengeful, amused, and quite pleased with myself): Well, you certainly would know :).

**Disclosure: I'm in just fine shape. Thank-you-very-much. And a size 10 is not fat!

A Different Species

2009-01-10T13:27:00.004-05:00

I was just thinking about a conversation I had with one of the students in my class a few weeks ago.

Harley* was sprawled across the floor with a lapboard and her assignment in hand. She called me over and I went with the illusion that she had some kind of academic question. I'm not sure why I fall into this trap so often. Rarely do they ever have something legit to ask me.

"What's your question, sweetie?" I asked as I took a spot on the carpet beside her.

"Ms. S," she hesitated. "Sometimes, I think boys are a different species."

"Me too," I responded. Because, really, how else can you respond when an 8 year old makes such a profound discovery?

The Quest for Twizzlers

2009-01-07T22:47:00.002-05:00

I'm not sure why I am so unbelievably unproductive on snow days. It is as if ingrained in my mind is the understanding that snow days are for relaxation. Needless to say, I finally stirred from my bed around 1:30pm this afternoon to see that I had two emails from my mentor. The first was from 6:08am.

In my defense, when I got the phone call canceling school this morning, my internet was not working. It was still not working around 10am when I got up, momentarily, to get some cheesy puffs for brunch and tried unsuccessfully to check it. By the time I had finally gotten her emails, I thought about responding with, "Sorry! My internet was down, not like it would have mattered considering I just emerged from my blanket cocoon." However, I often realize much too late that things that I find funny are not funny to normal people and decided against it.

The remainder of my day included reading the rest of the second book in the Twilight series, watching several episodes of Law and Order, and beeyotchin' to my friends about not having a man.

About an hour ago, I drug my booty downstairs to check the lock on the front door, as I do every night, over here at OCD Central. I was shocked to see the door unlocked! Panic washed over me as I realized it must have been unlocked all day and all last night, as I hadn't left my apartment all day.

Then it came to me. Shortly after I had awoken, I remembered that I had a bag of Twizzlers in my car and braved the weather to recover them. I must have neglected the lock in my rush to rip into the bag. Of course, I still checked EVERY closet in the apartment for possible creepers.

And I wonder why I don't have a man.

Sharing

2009-01-05T19:37:00.001-05:00

Each morning, we bring our students together for morning meeting. During this time, we encourage them to share news, achievements, and stories. It's a strategy used to facilitate a positive classroom community. By sharing, students learn that what they have to say is worthwhile; they are valued. From what I'm told, the ultimate goal is to have a classroom of caring students who exude high self-esteem. This is effective and amusing when the students share things like, "I went ice skating last night." or "I saw you shopping yesterday. You were in the underwear section!" (I wish I were kidding.)

Of course this strategy occurs during our intern classes as well, a sort of practice what you preach type of activity. During the sharing portion of class today, one of my fellow interns shared that her boyfriend had proposed to her over break. The crowd responded with oohs and awes. Our instructor then asked if anyone else had news to share. This is the convo that followed.

Me: "How am I supposed to top that?"
Friend: "Ha! We've got nothing."
Me: "I'm going to raise my hand and announce I read Twilight in one day."
Friend: "I read Twilight and didn't leave my house or shower for three straight days. That's my sharing."

Now, I'm not sure what we were exuding, but it sure as hell wasn't high self-esteem. Perhaps, there's an age limit on this sharing business.

Fox Fur

2009-01-03T22:57:00.000-05:00

My sister is kind of an idiot. She's not academically slow, quite the contrary, actually, but when it comes to common knowledge, well, she's got nothing on Sarah Palin.

My mom just called to tell me about an incident that occurred earlier this evening. My sister was getting ready to go out, dressed in one of those zip-up hoodies with fur lining the collar and hood. We both have incredibly sensitive skin, and apparently, her neck was beginning to get itchy. She asked my mom if maybe she could be allergic to the fur in her sweatshirt. Of course, my mom immediately bitched her out. Why would she wear a furry shirt when she knows she knows how sensitive her skin is? My mom asked her what kind of fur it was, thinking rabbit hair or something.

My sister reaches for the tag and reads, "Fox fur."

Laughing, my mom asks, "And how do you spell that fox?"

"F-A-U-X. Fox, right?"

Apparently, one of my sister's friends came over later, and my mom was preparing to embarrass my sister with the story. She asked him how he would pronounce the name of fur on her hoodie.

He looked at her, dumbfounded, "Fox?"

Birds of a feather...

Creepy McCreeperson

2008-12-30T15:47:00.000-05:00

Dear Realtors,

When I heard aggressive knocking on my door this afternoon, I was indeed sitting on my ass and ignoring it. Because you have not installed a peephole in my door per my request, I decided that I would just stop answering my door. It's usually just your people or the guys in suits, "spreading the good word". I decided if was a safe bet that I would not be missing much. Therefore, you can guess my surprise when, as I was hanging off the balcony to get a better view of who was pounding on my door, I almost fell hearing the door unlock and swing open. Don't worry though, it wasn't a criminal (to my knowledge), just one of your maintenance geniuses.

When I gave him my "Wth!?" stare, he simply replied,

"Oh. Sorry. I saw your car was here, so I thought I would let myself in. Do you still have that dehumidifier?"

Oh yeah that dehumidifier, from when my entire apartment flooded because the chain you put in the toilet was the "wrong length". Yeah, still here. Now I realize I must be super tight with your peeps in the office and the maintenance crew (or a big pain in the ass) if everyone knows what car I drive in a several hundred occupant apartment building, but I just wanted to let you know that you won the award for creepiest encounter of the day, again. Congrats.

Signed,
Currently looking for a new apartment..

P.S. Also, I was awoken this morning, on my vacay, WHEN IT WAS STILL DARK OUT, to my carbon monoxide detector beeping every thirty seconds. (I may have let it go for a few or several days, but it only intensified this morning.) After I was pretty sure I was not being slowly poisoned, I was forced to get out of bed at the ungodly hour of 7:30am and drive to the store to buy batteries .. and a croissant .. and an iced coffee.

Can I get reimbursed for that?