A solemn vow, surrender and public warning

After an afternoon of fun and a couple of beers, we somehow though it might be a good idea to order pizza. Right? Ordering pizza is fun. People order pizza to have fun and spectate things. It's the American way, I think. Pizza and the Oscars, seemed harmless enough.

Not so. A few pieces of pizza later and we are in full on food poisoning mode. Child's pose on the bathroom floor never felt so right, than after the yack attack that was endured. It's amazing the range of emotions one feels when vomiting: pain, grief, desperation, remorse, distress, regret, utter depletion, and surrender. It is a truly humbling experience.

And so, I say this to you. I will never eat Papa John's pizza again. Never. Never. Next time you want pizza, make it yourself. The novelty of ordering pizza is over rated and not worth the chunks that could be spewed.

Everybody likes...

Hanging out in the yard
Playing yard games
Drinking beer
Eating cupcakes



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What's on your mind?

On educators and bad breath

Growing up, I remember thinking that most or all of my teachers had bad breath. Is it because they were always in my face trying to get me to learn stuff? Is it that most teachers drink way too much coffee and eat unhealthy foods which cause them to have bad breath? Does everyone have bad breath, because it is breath and by definition must be odd smelling in some way? Or is it that teachers are just cursed with bad breath? Like, along with all of the other burdens and difficulties that accompany the teaching profession: low pay, politics, obstinate students and parents, etc... Now you can add chronic bad breath to the list. The sad thing is that as a teacher, you are so often put in positions for people to notice your breath. And its not very respect commanding for you to be laying into a student about the importance of the effort that they put into school and for him or her to thinking Whatever dude, your breath stinks.
The up side to this is that, if per chance, teachers were to become super heroes they would have their stinky breath as an awesome super power for fighting crime.

As a teacher now, I worry about this quite often. I drink coffee. I get all up in my students faces trying to get them excited to learn things. And thus, I might be remembered as a bad breath teacher. I tell you this now because I forgot to brush my teeth this morning and I am almost certain that today I am an educator with bad breath.

never brushing again

No need to brush your hair when it's long and wavy. I shall never brush again! I calculate that to be an entire 5 more minutes of sleep each week. Score!

Ahhh...a sigh of release, not a scream

I know I've said this before, but there really isn't anything better than a nice cold after work beer on a 65-70 degree evening.

Ahhhhhhh.

but...

Fashion trends that I just simply can not abide include but are not limited to:




Harem pants- unflattering, dumpy, and unflattering. Enough said.




Bubble dresses- no



Lace up booties- hello J. Lo circa Puff Daddy, era 1997. Ewe.



Long skirts- not unless you're 6 feet tall and 110 lbs.



Maxi dresses- again, not unless you're 6 feet tall and 110 lbs.



White denim- only, and I mean it, only if you are a celebrity or over 60 and currently residing in Miami.

Getting started early

Next year, for Halloween, I will dress as one if these annoying Bratz doll things.




I'm already trying on outfits in preparation.




By the way, why would anyone want to encourage their child to be a brat? Or to have an extremely large head? Or to wear gigantic shoes?

Toys these days...

They asked me and I said yes

If you happen to be a person who always says "yes" to things, you automatically become a person who is, more often than not, taken advantage of for your yesness. People begin to remember that you always say "yes" while others say "no". Then, people just stop going to the "no" people for things and they start coming to you. And you say "yes".

Truth

When actions line up with words

and

words line up with thoughts

Clever Quips of Love

One of my favorite things about Valentine's Day has always been the clever little Valentine quips like "Bee Mine" (said by buzzing bee) or "I Loaf you" (said by a loaf of bread).
So cute. So clever.
Here are some of my most beloved valentine quotables, all of which apply to my own feelings about my valentine:

Levitating

I wish I could. Levitate, that is.




But since, for the time being, I cannot; at least I know a way to trick people into thinking that I can.

Things that need to happen before it gets warm

I know it's only February, and I think it's 25 degrees outside right now, but I got to thinking about Spring for some reason. Then, it made me sad at the possibility of bidding adieu to winter. So, I've compiled a to-do list of things that I would like to do before Spring hits:

1) One more snow, please?
2) One more snow day, followed by a 2 hour delay
3) Chicken Soup
4) Use Crock-Pot 1-3 more times
3) Find cute spring dress to go with boots
4) Order 10,000 lbs of allergy medicine in preparation for spring pollen
5) Fire
6) Make myself sufficiently sick of red wine, so that I will be ready for white
7) Find out if I will be running the New York Marathon in 2011
8) Find out if I will be attending school in the Fall
9) Wear scarves and hats as much as possible
10) Write a children's book

I'm scared

People, video games are messed up!
Between my job and blogging I do a fair amount of google image searches. Inevitably, when I do a google image search for anything these days, I come across some pretty weird and scary stuff. Crazy pictures of people tied up, dead bodies, shootings, kidnappings, etc...all from video games. All digital but trying to look like real people engaging in these horrific things. Why?

It would seem to me that there is already enough horror in the world without people needing to simulate more for entertainment purposes. No wonder our kids are so disturbed. No wonder.

I guess this officially makes me old, talking about "kids these days". I will now story you about how I used to walk ten miles up hill in the snow when I was your age.


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Elizabeth Gilbert!

Or better known as "that lady who wrote EAT PRAY LOVE"...

We saw her last night at the Durham Armory. She's on tour now promoting her new(ish) book Committed: A Skeptic Makes Peace with Marriage. She was spectacular. Not only was she well-spoken, intelligent and every bit as hilarious as she seems via book, but she was warm, poised, well dressed and just plain gorgeous! I was most impressed with her answers to questions. For every question that she was asked, she possessed a perfect well-thought out, yet seemingly spontaneous, answer riddled with wisdom and humor.

I want her to be my cool aunt.

Super Bo(wl)ring

Today is the Super Bowl. I am in no way excited about or interested in football or the Super Bowl. I don't know why, but I've never been able to get in to football.
Here's what I do know:

1) No matter how hard I try, or how many people I ask, I do not understand football. Numerous boyfriends, friends and sports enthusiasts have tried to tutor me, but it just won't stick! Downs, goals, touchdowns...what?

2) I do like to drink beer and eat snacky foods and get belligerent with people, so therefore, I like to go to Super Bowl parties even though I don't watch the Super Bowl or care about it at all. Shouting and ranting at the TV? I'm in! I confess, I pretend. I pretend to like a team based upon colors, emblem, city locale, mascot, or under-doggedness. This year I pick the Steelers because I know 3 people who like them; plus Pittsburgh and I have a history.

3) I am not entertained at all by the commercials. Most Super Bowl pretenders at least find some solace in the commercials. I, however, find them, well...too commercial.

4) I do not like the intermission show (I mean half time- is that what you call it in football?) even though as a female and former studier of the show biz, I feel that I am supposed to feel tethered to the half time show and excited about the potential entertainment of it.

5) Even though i'm not much of a traditionalist, I do enjoy the camaraderie of the Super Bowl. It is somehow comforting to know that a majority of the people the United States are doing the same thing at the same time, like voting or Christmas.

So, I'm off to partake in American culture. I'll eat and drink too much and regret it tomorrow. It's the American way.

Happy Super Bowl friends! Go...Steelers?!

The Things They Put Into Our Heads

I wonder if worrying is an innate biological process meant to somehow evolutionarily protect us from larger predators; if those who worry somehow protect themselves and survive the natural selection process?
OR
is worrying something that is passed down, embedded in us by our families and the social constructs within which we live?

I got to thinking about this yesterday on my run to the top of Occoneechee Mountain in Hillsborough. Parts of this run are fairly remote and at times have prompted me to worry about my safety from rapists, serial killers, AWOL rednecks, and the like. But why? Why do I fear these things? I believe it is due to years of 1) socialization from the fear driven media- news, lifetime movies, crime obsessed TV shows and 2) being taught that because I am a girl I am somehow at more of a risk. This may be true, but why instill a worry into all women because of it?

As I began to ascend the mountain, I looked ahead and saw three large men. My heart began to race, and thoughts of the many horrific things that they would do to me prior to disposing of my body began to fill my mind. As I got closer, the men began to appear harmless: three young chaps sharing in friendship atop the mountain over an herbal cigarette, perhaps. Ah Ha! No use in worrying.

I came to the conclusion that worrying about these things has no effect on the actual situation. Some could argue that worrying makes you more aware of a potentially dangerous situation, providing you increased chances of escaping. This may be true, but I would argue that if something horrible is meant to happen to me then it will happen either way, and having worrisome day dreams during my run is in no way protecting me but making me crazy, rather.

When I reached the top of the mountain, I deduced that, yes, the aforementioned "sketchy" men were indeed sharing in some fellowship atop the mountain. Then, I noticed something. The truly worrisome thing. These were bad men! The summit was a gruesome crime scene littered with the remains of their victims: fast food trash. Disembowled fry boxes, fully drained 40 oz. sodas, and cheeseburger corpses.

Rapists indeed! Raping the environment.

Now you're speaking my language

This year's best picture nominees...as LEGOs. I love it!
Can you guess what is what?












The Social Network, Winter's Bone, The Kids Are Alright, 127 Hours, The King's Speech, The Fighter, True Grit, Inception, Black Swan, Toy Story 3