A school list.

Things that have happened at school in the last few days that bear mentioning:

1. I waited outside the open door to the girls' bathroom and was forced to listen to one of my students who vomited at least 12 times so I could walk her to the office to go home. It was loud and completely revolting and I thought I was going to have to puke too. Upon re-emerging her words to me were, "I knew I shouldn't have eaten that hot dog."

2. One of my... slower students... told me that we used to eat worms. I asked her when that was. Her response: "Back when the Indians were born. We fried them." Oh.

3. I waited outside the boys' bathroom after one of my students threw up all over his table in the classroom. Afterwards, I asked if he was ok. His reply: "Yeah. I'm straight. I just had to get that out."

4. A couple of weeks ago, two of my boys told me that somehow, glue had gotten on their desks and that they couldn't get it off of their fingers. They were really upset and said that it was burning. Although I found this odd, I was in the middle of Science Fair HELL and had 8 different experiments going on at one time in a class of 24 and frankly, could care less about my kids' fingers getting glued together. (Can you still finish this *&%$ science board before the fair? Yes? Then SUCK IT UP!) This week, one of them again complained about gluey fingers. "Where is this glue coming from?" I asked. "I dunno! It just keeps getting on my hands!" After school today, his pencil box had fallen off of his desk and opened. Laying there right in the middle of the mess was a little tube of Super Glue. Thus, my boys had been gluing their fingers together and then freaking out about it. Hmmmm. Fun with a capital F.

On an unrelated note, I finally took down my Christmas tree this week (rather, Bryan did) because on the same day that my female student puked, Catboy threw up all of the fake Christmas tree needles he'd been eating. I don't really want to talk about or see puke again for a long time.

Times I have been stupid.

I bought my ticket to NYC over my birthday next month. :) I could use a little NYC. On buying my ticket, I was talking to my mom about buying insurance for my ticket. Here's the conversation:

Me: I'm worried that my plane will crash and then I'll die on my birthday and that would be really sad.
Mom: Sara. Do you think that if you died on any other day I wouldn't be as sad?
Me: Oh. I guess not. I don't know. Pretend I didn't say that.

This converstation reminded me of other times I have had completely abusurd thoughts:

1. When I was about 10 I was afraid I was pregnant because my stomach looked bigger after I'd eaten. (This was before my mom took Alison and I to a sex ed. presentation through the girl scouts and also before Alison and I got introduced to a book at a friend's house which explained sex in what I suppose were intended to be kid-friendly terms and had cartoon illustrations of people who were extremely large.)

2. In middle school there was that urban legend going around that people would take AIDS infected needles and put them in phone coin return slots and in movie theater seats so people would poke themselves and get infected. It took a while before I was not afraid to sit down in the theater.

3. At the 8th grade dance there was a rumor going around that the punch bowl was spiked. At our girls' sleepover that night at Erin C's, I spent the entire night FREAKING out that I was drunk and didn't know it. My friends made a lot of fun of me. It was mean.

Here are some new pictures. One of Kevin, Frenchy, (on Frenchy's behalf, he is much taller than he appears- he was sitting down... This picture was bothering him...), and I last night and the other is of my new 'nephew', Kristin & Shawn's baby Kaden.




(Just because football isn't my thing doesn't mean that my avatar has to dislike it. I let her have her way sometimes.)

About Grillz.

A couple of days ago I took a note away from one of my boy students who was trying to pass it. Of course I read it. I was hoping for a 'Do you like me' type note but, alas, it was just a playlist including (spelling left intact): Oh Yes = J-Santana, Fresh AZImIZ = Bow wow, and Grillz = Nelly, and more. I looked up the lyrics to the Nelly song which is apparently a song about wearing metal caps on your teeth and includes the following words:

Open up my mouth and you see mo carrots than a salad
My teeth are mind blowin givin everybody chillz
Call me George Foreman cuz I'm sellin everybody grillz

I have no hope teaching kids when this is what I'm up against. *sigh*

Grillz. Give me a freaking break.

WOMEN. READ THIS. CAPITALS MAKE THINGS MORE SERIOUS.

I have a job now where I actually have to do work at night. I'm tired as crap. (No messages back about "How can crap be tired?" I'll punch you in your face if you do that.) So, instead of sleeping, I'm catching up on my blog because I've been going through withdrawals.

My friend Todd sent me this email because he thought, correctly, that I would appreciate the absurdity of this serious email. Ladies: THIS COULD SAVE YOUR LIFE. VERY SERIOUS. Thus, I will write my comments in italics so as to further the helpful advice. Read and be savvy.

Warning for Women
After reading these 9 crucial tips, forward them to someone you care about. It never hurts to be careful in this crazy world we live in.

1. Tip from Tae Kwon Do: The elbow is the strongest point on your
body. If you are close enough to use it, do!

I once watched a show with my Grandma about self defense on tv. It said that if you were being attacked, you should stick your fingers in your attacker's eyeball sockets. I saw this probably 6 or 7 years ago and, I am not kidding, I have often thought about whether or not I would be able to do this. I think I could, but I would be REALLY grossed out. I've considered the sensation this would have on my fingers and it really disgusts me. It is a question that haunts me. I think it would be more effective than your elbows though.

2. Learned this from a tourist guide in New Orleans. If a robber asks
for your wallet and/or purse, DO NOT HAND IT TO HIM. Toss it away from
you....chances are that he is more interested in your wallet and/or purse
than you, and he will go for the wallet/purse. RUN LIKE MAD IN THE OTHER
DIRECTION!

I don't think I even need to comment on this one. This is too stupid for words. I don't even want to waste my time pointing out the absurdity of this tip. Run away... As opposed to what? Giving him a hug?! I will say though, that whoever wrote this email was CRAZY about CAPITALS. Freaking loves them.

3. If you are ever thrown into the trunk of a car, kick out the
back tail lights and stick your arm out the hole and start waving like crazy. The driver won't see you, but everybody else will. This has saved lives.

I don't think that this tip was clear enough. Are you waving for help or just to be friendly? It might actually get even more people to notice if you waved your middle finger. I would be a lot more interested to know what the problem was if I saw that coming out of the trunk of a car.

4. Women have a tendency to get into their cars after shopping, eating, working, etc., and just sit (doing their checkbook, or making a list, etc. DON'T DO THIS!) The predator will be watching you, and this is the perfect opportunity for him to get in on the passenger side, put a gun
to your head, and tell you where to go. AS SOON AS YOU GET INTO YOUR CAR, LOCK THE DOORS AND LEAVE.
First of all, I don't know how to balance my checkbook. This is the beauty of having online banking. Second of all, if I did, I would certainly not do it in the car. I would do something stupid like honk the horn while writing on the wheel. Thirdly, don't you sort of HAVE to sit for a second when you get in? Is the writer proposing that the woman get a running start, dive into the car, and slam on the gas? I'm not sure how quickly I am supposed to be starting to drive, but I really need to practice if this is what they are implying. I'm not so awesome at diving right now.

a. If someone is in the car with a gun to your head DO NOT DRIVE OFF, repeat: DO NOT DRIVE OFF! instead gun the engine and speed into anything, wrecking the car. Your Air Bag will save you. If the person is in the back seat they will get the worst of it. As soon as the car
crashes bail out and run. It is better than having them find your body in a remote location.

I have many thoughts about this one. The first is, isn't gunning the engine another way of saying 'drive off'? I'm confused about the conflicting information. Drive off? Don't drive off? By the time I figured it out, I would have had my brains shot out. Also, I have a hard time believing that after smashing into an air bag, I would have the ability to just bail out and run. It is not like a pillow fight collision. These things break freaking necks sometimes. There is a reason you have to face baby car seats away from air bags. C'mon now. Finally, the punctuation is atrocious in this tip. Instead isn't capitalized for starters, and why is air bag capitalized? *sigh*

5. A few notes about getting into your car in a parking lot, or
parking garage:
A.) Be aware: look around you, look into your car, at the passenger side floor, and in the back seat.
B.) If you are parked next to a big van, enter your car from the passenger door. Most serial killers attack their victims by pulling them into their vans while the women are attempting to get into their cars.
C) Look at the car parked on the driver's side of your vehicle, and the passenger side. If a male is sitting alone in the seat nearest your car, you may want to walk back into the mall, or work, and get a Guard/policeman to walk you back out.

IT IS ALWAYS BETTER TO BE SAFE THAN SORRY. (And better paranoid than dead.)

A) Will you not look like you are casing out the car if you go around, suspiciously looking into it? Just my luck, I'd get arrested for auto theft by trying to keep my body from being found in a remote location. B) What if you are parked BETWEEN two vans? The author didn't give me enough information for this to be helpful. Do I enter through the trunk? C) Why does guard get to be capitalized and policeman doesn't? Probably the author of this stellar piece of work did ask a policeman to walk them out and got laughed at and she had to get a guard to do it because they don't do much anyway. She'd show that damn policeman someday. See if they get THEIR name capitalized in her mass email. Yeah. Showed him. I do, however, agree that it is better to be paranoid than dead. Unless I was schizophrenic in which case I might reconsider because that is a truly debilitating and horrible disease and I think I'd rather be in Heaven in that case. That's the one exception.

6. ALWAYS take the elevator instead of the stairs. (Stairwells are horrible places to be alone and the perfect crime spot. This is especially true at NIGHT!)

I don't have an elevator in my building. Thus, I will be unable to attend any after dusk functions with any of you ever again. Better paranoid than dead. Better a lonely hermit with no friends than finding my body in a remote location. And anyway, last year when I lived in Harlem I had to walk by the crack addicts under scaffolding every night and it was alright. Even before some girl told me that I should walk around it because once she almost got poked by one of their needles. Stairs. HAH! I laugh at you stairs. You pose no threat to me.

7. If the predator has a gun and you are not under his control, ALWAYS RUN! The predator will only hit you (a running target) 4 in 100 times; And even then, it most likely WILL NOT be a vital organ. RUN, Preferably ! in a zig -zag pattern!

Is there a scenario in which the predator could have a gun and you would not be under his control? Would he just be showing it to you? Maybe a predator eager for attention? Is this gun ok? What do you think of it? Too showy? Also, I'm pretty fond of all of my organs really. I think if I had to choose one to lose it would be my appendix because everyone knows you don't need those. But I don't think it's very likely that the predator would hit that.

8. As women, we are always trying to be sympathetic: STOP. It may get you raped, or killed. Ted Bundy, the serial killer, was a good-looking, well educated man, who ALWAYS played on the sympathies of unsuspecting women. He walked with a cane, or a limp, and often asked "for help" into his vehicle or with his vehicle, which is when he abducted his next victim.

The next time anyone with a cane or limp asks me for help, I'm going to laugh in their face- I don't care WHO it is. Oh ho ho! I know what you're playing, you sick, twisted, sorry excuse for a human being. No one is abducting me today! I will keep all of my vitals intact and will live to see tomorrow! Open the door yourself! Loser.

Finally, I think it should be noted that at the beginning of the list it clearly states that 9 tips will be included. Since I cut and pasted, I think you will see that, for some reason which I'm sure makes complete and utter sense of which I am not aware, the number 5 was replaced with the letter a and then 5 picks back up after a, leaving only 8 tips.

Ladies, learn these tips and love them. Learn them and love them...

Awkward Conversation: Take 2

Directly after posting the previous entry, I called the house of one of my new students to tell his mom what a great job he did this week. The conversation went as follows:

Me: Hello? Is Ms. White there?
Gruff, Older Voice: HELLO?! (Talking at far beyond normal phone etiquette range.)
Me: Hello?
Gruff, Older Voice: WHAT?!
Me: Ms. White?
G.O.V.: MS. WHITE??! MS. WHITE DONE PASSED AWAY 7 YEARS AGO!
Me: (Thinking, well this is fabulous...) Um, I'm looking for Marlon's mom?...
G.O.V.: WELL WHY DIDN'T YOU JUST SAY TAMMY?!
Me: Um, I didn't want to be informal. (As though, at this point, being informal is apparently more important than bringing up a deceased family member.)
G.O.V.: WELL THIS IS MARLON'S GRANDFATHER. I CAN GIVE YOU TAMMY'S CELL NUMBER IF YOU WANT!
Me: (Thinking, even better- it was probably his wife. Well done Sar.) That would be great. Thanks.

Lessons learned: It is better to be informal than to risk bringing up someone's dead spouse.

An NYC memory which could have hysterical stories, but I'm not sold on the idea of posting them on here...

A random, good memory of NYC because I'm missing it. On the Upper West Side is this little Chinese restaurant called Silk Road. You get free wine from the time you come in until the time you leave and the food is good and cheap. A few of us went there so often that the owner knew us and said hi when we came in. So we'd go to Silk Road for dinner and there was so much that you'd always have some to take home for the next couple of days. After Silk Road, we'd go across the road to a bar called Gin Mill. I suppose that everyone in NYC has to have a bar and this was my roommate Laura's and mine. We knew all of the fabulous bartenders and what nights they worked. We got so much free stuff- lanyards, shirts, keychains, lei's, buttons... And an awesome thing about NYC bars is that once you're friends with the bartenders you get free drinks. Many amusing stories occur with Gin Mill involved. One of the bartenders, Jon, and I still talk sometimes since I've moved and even though he's Jewish, he was the first person on Christmas to wish me a Merry Christmas. :) I need another Gin Mill night sometime soon- February?... This wasn't a very good story, but it is a good memory for me and... it's my blog. So here are some pictures to make up for it.

Laura and I at Silk Road at my going away party.
Michelle, Lindsay, Laura, and I at Gin Mill.
Jon! :) My favorite maker of rasperry frozen margaritas.

I am the tiredest girl alive.

It's 7:30pm and I could have willingly been in bed about 30 minutes ago. I'm freaking beat. I started teaching yesterday in the class I will have until the end of the year because the teacher went on maternity leave. Yesterday was not so good so today I was mean. And I didn't care. Also, for the last week I have had this random twitch under my left eye that is driving me insane. I googled it as a symptom this morning (I am a recovering hypochondriac) and it turns out that it is a symtpom of brain cancer, which prompted me to call my mom at 7am to reassure me that I will live to see tomorrow. But, as it happens, I have nothing funny to write about because I'm so tired. So, in compensation, I will put up this picture of me in my sophomore year of college, staring down a Keebler Elf tin. I hope that will suffice.

Yep. Still tired.

Hope you all had a fab New Years. I'm basically incredibly tired and can't believe that I have to go back to work on Tuesday. Yesterday during the day, Cindy and I got pedicures. Although the guy who did mine, Long, rubbed the first layer of skin off of the side of my right foot and cut the cuticle of my big toe down so far that he drew blood, he did share with me his clever ploy to get a girlfriend at parties. According to Long, the secret is: "Find drunk girls. Girls always very drunk at parties. Girls stupid! I make these girls my girlfriends!" I told him that that sounded more like one-night-stands to me. I don't think he got it and then I felt kind of sad for him. Anyway, I got two lotion rub downs on my legs because "Your legs very nice!" Aww! Thanks, Long!

Today I cleaned my apartment and called all of the parents of the kids whose class I'll be teaching for the rest of the year to introduce myself. It's always a little awkward, but not as awkward as that phone call to Charlie's mom. (Charlie did call me back by the way. He reassured me that he told his mom that I was not guilty of being the mistress to his dad. Whew.) Anyway, while taking a break from cleaning today, I ran across the music of James Blunt. He'll be my new musical addiction for a bit- sounds kind of like Damien Rice and David Grey with a bit more edge.
Of interesting and irrelevant information (as most of this crap I write is), the last thing I did last night before going to sleep to begin the first day of 2006 was annoy Catboy by petting him excessively after realizing that somehow the conditions in my apartment made it possible to create sparks when I did so. It even made a tiny snap sound.

And finally, I leave you with an intellectual question asked of me by neighbor Kevin:
"If necessary, how large of an animal do you think you could take in a fight?" I am still mulling this over.

Here are some pictures too. Because they always make things more interesting. I think.
Benjers, Alio, and I on Christmas. I am helping my mom's cat wave.

Me, my grandma, and Alio. (It may need to be said that Alio's actual name is Alison. She spelled it wrong once when we were younger and, being a dutiful older sister, I never let her forget it. While we're at it, Benjers' name is Ben. I don't know why I call him that...)
Alison, my dad, and I. My dad jumped in at the last minute and, being my dad, did this weird pose. Being myself, I found it hilarious and am laughing at him. Also, I own something like 20 of these camis now. (Camisoles for those of you not in the know. It's the lace thing. It's kind of like a little tank top. I would like to wear them everyday. I often do. True story.)

This is Catboy sleeping with his Christmas toy. He has another one, but it has an elastic string to it so I have to hide it from him unless I play with it with him because he eats elastic. And sometimes nails or paint. Often bugs. Or ponytail holders.