Merry New Year!

Marriage According to Kids

I believe this has gone around and around the internets, but that doesn't mean I can't post it. Considering I spend my days with kids, and I'm not married, I felt this was a very topical post for me. And it has nothing to do with the fact that I'm in the midst of a holiday sugar coma and can't think of a coherent thing to say.
Shut up.

HOW YOU DECIDE WHOM TO MARRY?

You got to find somebody who likes the same stuff. Like, if you like sports, she should like it that you like sports, and she should keep the chips and dip coming.
Alan, age 10

No person really decides before they grow up who they're going to marry, God decides it all and you get to find out later who you're stuck with.
Kirsten, age 10

WHAT IS THE RIGHT AGE TO GET MARRIED?

Twenty-three is the best age because you know the person FOREVER by then.
Camille, age 10

No age is good to get married at. You got to be a fool to get married.
Freddie, age 6

HOW CAN A STRANGER TELL IF TWO PEOPLE ARE MARRIED?

You might have to guess, based on whether they seem to be yelling at the same kids.
Derrick, age 8

WHAT DO YOU THINK YOUR MOM AND DAD HAVE IN COMMON?

Both don't want any more kids.
Lori, age 8

WHAT DO MOST PEOPLE DO ON A DATE?

Dates are for having fun, and people should use them to get to know each other. Even boys have something to say if you listen long enough.
Lynnette, age 8

On the first date, they just tell each other lies, and that usually gets them interested enough to go for a second date.
Martin, age 10

WHAT WOULD YOU DO ON A FIRST DATE THAT WAS TURNING SOUR?

I'd run home and play dead. The next day I would call all the newspapers and make sure they wrote about me in all the dead columns.
Craig, age 9

WHEN IS IT OKAY TO KISS SOMEONE?

When they're rich.
Pam, age 7

The law says you have to be eighteen, so I wouldn't want to mess with that.
Curt, age 7

The rule goes like this: If you kiss someone, then you should marry them and have kids with them. It's the right thing to do.
Howard, age 8

IS IT BETTER TO BE SINGLE OR MARRIED?

I don't know which is better, but I'll tell you one thing. I'm never going to have sex with my wife. I don't want to be all grossed out.
Theodore, age 8

It's better for girls to be single but not for boys. Boys need someone to clean up after them.
Anita, age 9

HOW WOULD THE WORLD BE DIFFERENT IF PEOPLE DIDN'T GET MARRIED?

There sure would be a lot of kids to explain, wouldn't there?
Kelvin, age 8

And the #1 Favorite is........

HOW WOULD YOU MAKE A MARRIAGE WORK?

Tell your wife that she looks pretty, even if she looks like a truck.
Ricky, age 10

Happy Christmas To All

Bring On Da Funny

Sharkbait got in a fight the other day. Ironically, he got into a fight with last year's Sharkbait - who I used to refer to as The Whiner. Yes, it seems that I am doomed to have one student in my class every year who is so obnoxious, so annoying, so all-around icky, that having him in my class makes me question my decision to become an educator. I never wrote about The Whiner because it was too exhausting to think about him outside of work, and also there was really no good material on him. He just was, and still is, a major pain in the ass. Only now he's taller, so there's more of him to dislike. It scares me that I will have a kid like this every year, but I have a very bad feeling it's my destiny. It must be a Murphy's Law thing, or maybe the universe is pissed at me for not perpetuating the species.

There is, however, one big difference between Sharkbait and The Whiner. When Sharkbait is not being loud, rude, and horrible, he is an extremely funny little kid. He is still the bane of my existence and a professional pain in the ass, but his ability to make me laugh has proven to be a lifesaver - and by that I mean it is the only reason he is still alive. And of course, it's wrong to hurt children. Also, I'm deathly afraid of prison.

I have another boy in my class who is the polar opposite of Sharkbait. I'll refer to him as Lil Obama. He is smart, sweet, helpful, and extremely well-spoken for a six year old. Well he will be when his front teeth come back in. Lil Obama also has something else going for him, he too is an extremely funny little kid.

I laugh a lot in my class. Kids are funny in general, and I always make sure to laugh with them, and not at them. OK, sometimes I do laugh at them. Like whenever Sharkbait wears his plaid shorts and polo shirt to school and I ask him if he's got an after school tee-off time. My kids have come to appreciate the humor in our class, and they turn themselves inside out to be the source of my chuckles. And this leads me to yesterday in class.

Sharkbait had made himself a crown in the Art Center. He came up to proudly show me his masterpiece - a piece of paper glued end to end with his name scrawled across it. It perched precariously atop his head. He could barely take a step without it falling down. He gave me a smirk, waiting for me to abuse him. He knew it was awful, and he was dying to get me going.

Me: Nice hat.

Sharkbait: It's my birthday crown.

Me: Nice crown.

Sharkbait: Isn't it great? (at this point the crown falls off and blows across the room. He runs to catch it, runs back to me, and places it back on his head, waiting for me to tell him how bad it is)

Me: It would be better if it fit around your head instead of on top of it, you know, so you could actually wear it.

Sharkbait: The paper was too small.

Me: I'm not surprised. No way you could get that thing around your great big head.

At this point, we have an audience. You can't have a 10 second conversation in a room full of six year olds without all of them wanting in on it. Sharkbait, aware of his audience, screws up his face into a big pout, and replies dramatically:

How could you be so cruel to me!!!

And then promptly pretends to burst into tears. Five seconds later we were both laughing hysterically. All the other kids started laughing too, though they didn't really get the joke like we did. Only one child didn't laugh - Lil Obama. He was mad with envy. MAD! He wasn't used to seeing me laugh like that at anybody but him. I could see he was preparing to one-up Sharkbait. He gave me a look and then mumbled something.

Me: What was that?

Lil Obama: (mumbling still) must be funnier....must be funnier....Sharkbait's stealin' my funny.

Stealing my funny. At this point, I'm losing it. All I can think about is how can I get a video camera in here right this minute.

Me: Stealing your funny???

Lil Obama: Sharkbait's stealin' my funny!

Sharkbait: (from across the room) You got a problem, Lil Obama?

Lil Obama: Yeah! You're stealin' my funny!

Lil Obama walks over to Sharkbait. They stand toe to toe, staring each other down. You can cut the tension with a pair of child-safe scissors. Lil Obama baring his toothless snarl, Sharkbait wearing his retarded crown, the students waiting in breathless anticipation, and me on the verge of wetting myself.

Sharkbait: I'm stealing your funny? Well bring it on then! Bring on da funny!

Lil Obama: Yeah? I'll bring it!

For the next five minutes the two of them proceeded to twist, contort, snarl, wiggle, jump, shake, scratch, cross eyes, pick noses, roll around with their legs waving in the air, give self-imposed wedgies - anything to break the other down with time-tested Three Stooges humor. It was a Funny-Off. I was absolutely weeping by the end of it. I couldn't have stopped them if I wanted to. And why would I want to stop a classic moment like that? They don't come around very often.

Especially with Sharkbait.

Bring on da funny!

Dumb and Dumber

I found this story in Strange News on my Yahoo! page. Yes, the man starring in the story is clearly dumber than a bag of hammers, but what disturbed me more was how pathetically written this piece was. Now don't get me wrong, I am no grammar expert, but I am not an Associated Press writer either. I always assumed that these writers had to have some sort of expertise in ....you know...writing. My mistake.

Man calls 911 to report stolen drugs

Mon Dec 11, 4:59 PM ET

WICHITA, Kan. - A Wichita man called 911 to report he was the victim of an armed robbery. The theft? A pound of marijuana worth about $1,100 that he had been trying to sell at his home. At his home? Was he trying to sell it to his brothers and sisters? His mom? Grampa? Maybe Gramma needs it for her hip. Also, shouldn't there be some commas in that last sentence?

The victim told police Thursday that a buyer had pulled out a sawed-off shotgun and stole the drugs. Everything about this sentence is wrong. Did the victim tell the police on Thursday? Or did the buyer rob him on Thursday? Why is Thursday an integral part of this one-sentence paragraph? And don't get me started on "had pulled out a sawed-off shotgun and stole the drugs." Learn how to use a verb, asshat.

Police brought in a drug-sniffing dog to the house and located more marijuana and drug paraphernalia. So they brought in a drug-sniffing dog to the house? Not out? Or around? Redundant much? And how much more marijuana? Be specific, you work for a news organization, dipshit.

The victim was booked into Sedgwick County jail on several charges, including possession with the intent to sell drug. Intent to sell drug. Drug is the singular of drugs - the word that should have been used in this sentence. I'm guessing our writer used that word because there was only one drug being sold. Or because he was on drug.

The thief has not been found. Alleged thief! You imbecilic, no-talent moron!!

I can only hope the alleged dealer goes to jail for being an idiot, the alleged thief goes to jail for being a scumbag, and the alleged writer of this story gets fired and gets a job digging ditches.

-----------------------------------------

In other dumb news, maybe fired publisher Judith Regan can get a job working for Mel Gibson.

Best. Bond. Ever.

Rowr!

Happy Hanukkah!

That's Why They Call Them Crushes...

Today is Reveal Your Blog Crush Day, a concept conceived by two of my favorite chicks in blogdom, Ms Sizzle and The Ramblin' Sandra. On this day, bloggers from all over are revealing their crushes in the blogosphere. I'm late to the big reveal. It was a hellish day, which I will bitch about later. Right now I just want some wine and to not back out of my commitment to admit to my crush. The problem is, I have a few. That should really be no surprise to anyone, as most of you know I'm incredibly fickle. But let me make something clear, I do not necessarily want to have sex with any of these people...errr...bloggers. I just enjoy their writing and look forward to seeing what they have to say. But then again, sex could be an option if they weren't married. Or geographically undesirable. Or if they were actually human. Or if I actually knew what they looked like. Just remember, if you aren't listed here, that doesn't mean I don't crush on you. I may be too embarrassed to reveal my true lascivious feelings in the open.

1. Rich of G3T Films: Not only is he a talented filmmaker, but he lives in my favorite city in my favorite country. We both have had disturbing windpipe injuries, and have both considered murdering our brothers. The 10,000 mile distance only adds to his allure, as there is no chance of ever actually meeting him at some ridiculous blogger convention.


2. Danny of Jew Eat Yet?: I have only just discovered Danny of Jew Eat Yet? His writing is brilliant, his Jewishness hilarious, and his love and pride for his daughter makes my ovaries ache. After finding out that we both spent the same weekend with miserable colds watching That Girl on TV Land, how could I not crush on him?


3. Todd of Death Wore A Feathered Mullet: Todd has been with me since my first week of blogging. He started out sweet and nice and even a little flirty, but then he discovered a certain word, and all hell broke loose. That's when my crush began. Any man who can use the C word as a noun, verb, adjective, and adverb - without being the least bit offensive - is my kind of guy. Too bad he doesn't have a blogroll.


4. Michael of Skinny Legs and All : Even though he ran off and got married (to someone else!) without telling me, I still adore him. He is full of political righteousness, but is never insulting or belittling. He is more aware of world events than most broadcast news anchors. He is a well-traveled, successful, smart, true blue New Yorker who loves Italy as much as I do. And he is a true gentleman as well. Call me when your marriage falls apart! I wish you well in your future!


5. Billy of Living the Romantic Comedy: Not only is Billy a published author and well-known screenwriter, but he is my new favorite film critic as well. I was truly floored and beyond flattered when I discovered he had linked me on his blog. And I do think, as he does, that he and I are married in some alternate universe. I'm sure he got me a beautiful ring.

And no list of mine would be complete without special mention of Monkey of Monkey's Deep Thoughts: Come on. Look at that fine face! Drink in his mind boggling movies! Listen to that velvety voice! Check out his humongous hoo-hah! I dare you not to fall in love with the Monkey. And Purple ain't so bad either.

There are others, but I don't want to look too slutty.

Shut up.

Yet Another Childhood Survey

Purloined from Lushy:

Are you a child of the 70s, 80s, or 90s?
The 70's. God, I'm old.

Where were you born?
The Jersey Shore.

What city did you grow up in?
A little beach side town on the Jersey Shore.

Did you enjoy your childhood?
Immensely.

When you were a kid what did you want to be when you grew up?
The first female football coach in the NFL. Seriously.

What do you want to be now?
Over sexed and independently wealthy.

Name the first memorable vacation you took as a kid?
When I was about six, my mother, brother, and I drove to Florida to visit my oldest brother in college. I was actually quite good for most of the trip, until I saw the giant Welcome to Florida sign, and then I started the ubiquitous "Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet?" That lasted for the next nine hours until we got to Sarasota. Who knew Florida was so long?

What was your first best friend or friends' name?
Lori F. We found each other the first day of kindergarten. The teacher lined us up by height, and Lori and I were last. Being the two shrimps of the class, we found it wise to stick together.

Are they still your friend?
We stayed friends all the way through high school, where we continued to be the shrimps of the class. I haven't seen her in years. If I were to run into her, I would tackle her with all the delight of a slobbering puppy.

Can you name all the schools you ever attended?
Of course, I'm not that old.
You don't want me to do it here, do you?

Who was your first crush?
Richie H. in kindergarten. I started young. Even at five I could appreciate big blue eyes and long lush eyelashes. We walked to and from school together with our moms and I would pretend we were married. This did not please Lori F, as she too had an eye for the cuties. Fortunately, we never allowed boys to get in the way of our friendship.

Were you closer to your Mom or Dad as a kid?
I was always closer to my mom, but like Lushy, I longed to be closer to my dad. Daddy issues anyone?

Do you have any embarrassing school stories to share?
I used to beat up boys. Like, a lot.

What was the first record, tape or CD you remember buying?
Shadow Dancing by Andy Gibb.
Shut up.

Were you scared of anything?
I was afraid of our basement. It had all these creepy little rooms and closets from its former glory days as a speakeasy. Even though it was my favorite place to play, I still remember being petrified when it was time to go back upstairs. For some reason I had it in my head that if my feet were on the basement floor when I turned out the lights, the Boogie Man could get me. The lights had to be turned off before you went up the stairs, which posed quite the dilemma. So I would stand on the bottom step and lean over as far as I could so I could turn out the lights and not actually be touching the floor. I almost fell on my face on a daily basis doing this, but the Boogie Man never got his grubby paws on me. Suck it Boogie Man!

What was your favorite class in elementary school?
The first year the government started doling out money for the Gifted programs, I was tested and immediately sent to be in the new "Special" class. There were only a few of us in this little room, and I don't think our teacher, Mr. K, had a fucking clue what to do with us. I can still see the Incentive Chart on the wall covered with bright shiny stars to keep us interested. We were meant to put on some sort of play for the school, but that never happened. In fact, suddenly Gifted class just stopped and nobody ever told us why. It wasn't until I was about 30 years old that my mother gently explained to me that my beloved Mr. K had had a nervous breakdown and had been carted off in the Twinkie Mobile. I blame myself.

Broke any bones or had any freaky accidents as a kid?
I was quite the little athlete as a child, mostly because I thought I was a boy until the twins arrived. The two major injuries I remember were both sports related.
Injury One: in my valiant effort to avoid getting hit in Dodgeball, I slid across the gym on my shoulder and wound up slamming head first into a bench. You should have seen the look on the school nurse's face when she saw me - subdural hematoma anyone?
Injury Two: I was playing Kickball with the boys for the world championship (of the playground). I was in third grade at the time, and not only was I the only girl allowed to play, but I was the pitcher as well. The last one up was a fourth grade boy who snickered derisively when he saw that a girl was pitching. He kicked the ball right at me with all his might. I stood my ground, held my arms out, and literally caught the ball with my neck. I toppled over onto my back with the ball but never let go. We won!! Everyone was screaming and cheering and going wild until they realized I couldn't get up. The ball hit me so hard that I literally could not move, speak, or breathe. The aforementioned and now traumatized nurse actually thought that it had fractured my windpipe. Fortunately I was ok - after a week or so of bed rest.
The important point to remember here is that we won the game - because of me. That's all that matters. Windpipes come and go, but glory on the playground lasts forever.

Did you play house or pretend to be a super hero?
I did it all baby. I was a thoroughly modern woman.

Things I Have Learned From Relationships with Men

1. How to drive on the left side of the road.
2. How to drink Jack Daniels without making a face.
3. Liking football does not make me less feminine.
4. Tequila. Bad.
5. Strawberry Body Butter. Good.
6. Dimples make me weak.
7. I am worth fighting for.
   
8. If a man tells you he is not good enough for you, believe him.
9. Men can't read minds.
10. He either loves you or he doesn't. He's not "afraid" or "freaked out" or "going through a bad time."
    
11. Stay away from bartenders and musicians.
    
12. Being vulnerable will not kill you.
13. How he looks is not as important as how he treats you.
    
14. It's ok that I'm not perfect. So I have a bit of a potty mouth, deal with it.
15. Always fight fair.
16. After a break-up, do not leave the house unless you look fabulous.
    
17. A king sized bed is an absolute necessity.
18. Humor is hot.
    
19. Smart is sexy.
20. Sex is fun. Laugh. Enjoy. Don't hold back.
21. Morning sex is better than coffee to get you going.
22. It's ok to let him take care of you.
23. Being alone is better than being in a bad relationship.
24. Being alone is not the same as being lonely.
25. Settling is not an option.

Inspired by This Fish. She did ten things, but I'm older, so I figure I should have learned more by now.

Crash Test Dummies

Dear Volkswagen,

Your "crash" commercials are on my last nerve. I hate them with every last fiber of my being. The only thing that could make them worse was if you had David Spade as your spokesman. Do you really think that showing people getting smashed into by some idiot on the road is going to encourage us to buy your product? I mean, seriously, where is the logic here? "Oh look, a traffic accident. My worst nightmare. Let's go car shopping." The moment a commercial comes on where two people are chatting away in their car, I change the channel. I'd rather watch bug-eating asshats on Fear Factor than suffer through another one of your inane ads.

These spots do not make me want to buy a Volkswagen, in fact, I am going to pronounce right here and now that I will never, EVER, buy a Volkswagen. I don't care if you invent a car that runs on dirty tap water, I'm not buying it because I hate your commercials that much. Not only do I not want to buy a car after watching your one of your advertisements, but I actually feel like getting into my car and ramming into a Volkswagen just for the hell of it.

Now go find an ad company that has a fucking clue. Maybe you should hire the company that created the spot below. This is funny. This is entertaining. And I am now going to Starbuck's to have myself a coffee cause the ad is that good. Let that be a lesson to you.

You better hope I don't see a VW on my way over there.

Signed, A Disgusted Viewer

Virgo - The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly

I have to say, these pretty much sum me up. Except for the argumentative part. I'm not argumentative. Seriously, I'm not!

Shut up.

Top Ten Reasons Living Alone Sucks

1-10. Nobody to take care of you when you are sick.

Please send chicken soup.
Thank you.

Top Ten Good Things About Living Alone

Also known as 10 things I can do in my apartment that I don't have to be embarrassed about since nobody else is around to see it.

1. I can shloof around in my favorite ratty sweatpants with the big hole in the ass and not wear panties.
2. I can spend an entire day watching reruns of Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
   
3. I can have cake for breakfast.
4. I can have popcorn for dinner.
5. I can consume all the greasy pancakes I want.
6. I can sweat and moan and groan all I want while doing my Tae Bo.
7. I can take an hour long bubble bath and nobody will ruin it by needing to take a poop while I'm in the tub.
   
8. I can go days - even weeks - without shaving my legs.
9. I can sleep in the center of the bed, hog all the covers, and take off my pajamas in my sleep without bothering anyone.
   
10. I can enjoy my fantasies about my various crushes with no sense of guilt whatsoever.

Next: Top Ten Reasons Living Alone Sucks

Ms. Woes - Now With New More Appropriate Spelling

We teachers don't make much money, nor do we get much appreciation. That's the just the way things are in our society - a blonde stick figure makes millions to smile and starve - while someone who is truly contributing to the future makes barely enough to pay the rent. However, this is not a complaining post, because we do get certain bonuses that make it worth the crappy pay and lack of appreciation. And besides, who would listen? So, in honor of the Thanksgiving holiday, I thought I'd share the following exchanges so you can see why I am thankful that I am a teacher - and not a vapid, anorexic, bleach-blonde bimbo. Enjoy.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Ms. Woes, you marked this one wrong, but I got it right.

I'm sorry honey! I guess I just read it wrong. I'll fix it.

That's ok. You're still the greatest teacher in the history of the universe.

-------------------------------------------------

Ms. Woes, from now on you will call me Bubbie*. And I will call you Bubbie. We will be Bubbie to each other and nobody else. OK? You got it?

So let me get this straight. You are commanding me to call you by a nickname that you came up with yourself, and you will call me the same name.

Right.

You got it. You want to tell me why?

Because I love you so much. And I want to have a little part of you all to myself.

Later I asked her where she came up with the name Bubbie. I was curious as to why she wanted me to call her my jewish grandmother. Her response was,
I found it. In my head.

Well, I can't argue with that.

* A little added note about my Bubbie. She is a tiny Spanish thing with enormous eyes who skips wherever she goes. She is insanely cute, and one would never guess that she spent the better part of the beginning of the school year beating the crap out of all the boys in class. Kicking, pinching, and slapping were her areas of expertise. She has since gotten better and now just bosses everyone around. Today the biggest boy in class called her Bubbie. She made him cry.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Ms. Wose! Sharkbait said the "E" word!

Really? What's the "E" word?

Idiot.

Again, I can't argue with that.

-------------------------------------------------------------

The new "thing" in class is for the kids to beg me to take them home with them. So the following is a typical exchange with my kids on any given day. It usually starts out with one and then all start chiming in.

Ms. Woes!! I want to come live with you!! Take me home!!

Can you cook?

YES!!

Can you clean?

YES!!

Can you do laundry?

YES!!

You can not!! You can't even reach the buttons! You're no good to me! Come back in a few years when you're over three feet tall!

NO!!! We can do it!!

Hmmmm....can you drive? I'll need you to buy the groceries.

Yes!! We can drive!

You can not!! You can't even see over the steering wheel! Liars! Forget it!

Of course at this point they are all giggling uncontrollably, and now the serious bargaining begins.

Pleeeeeeeeeeeeease take us home with you!

No way, what do I get out of it?

I can do your hair!

No.

I can wash your car!!

No.

I can make Crème Brulée!!!

Crème Brulée...hmmmm.

I can do your taxes!!

You can't even do double digit addition! Forget it! No way!

Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

---------------------------------------------------------------

And my favorite, from my new Bubbie, who may have just made my year.

You all did so well on that test! I'm so proud of my smarties!

Ms. Woes, you know why we are so smart?

No, why?

Because you are here for us.

------------------------------------------------------------------

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

Weekly Forecast for November 20, 2006

You are more in touch with your emotions on Monday than you have been in a while. Am I going to be crying a lot? I hate that. My eyes get all puffy. Consequently, you're asking more probing questions of others than they're used to being asked hehehe, they said probing -- and the answers you're getting are deep. Hehehe, they said deep. Tuesday and Wednesday see you being daring in other ways, too, but not being wild. Oh for sure! I have a totally daring new green bean recipe I'm trying out for the holiday. You have a lot of responsibility this week and that's something new?, at least until Thursday and Friday woohoo no school!, when your hard work pays off and you have some free time at your disposal. What's more, you have someone who makes your heart jump to spend it with. Oh yeah? Is he hot? He better be hot. Saturday and Sunday are illuminating. So many things this could be, please be more specific.

Horoscope: Astrology.com - Commentary: The Babbling Brooke

Friday Night

Fortune and Fantasy

Fortune: no I didn't hit the lottery yet, so don't get too excited. But I did get Chinese take-out last night and got an extra fortune cookie! Woohoo! Yes shut up I know my life is pathetic and I don't care. However, I have decided that these two fortune cookies were matched by the evil fortune cookie factory writers simply to taunt the future-too-lazy-to-cook-her-own-dinner recipient. Here are my fortunes, you decide:

1. Your skills and talents will be called on in unusual areas.



2. Don't kiss an elephant on the lips today.

Now I ask you, can you think of a more unusual area for my skills and talents to be called on than to smooch an elephant? What if someone had called on me to do just that? Which fortune should I have ignored? This will be the dilemma that haunts me for months to come.

Fantasy: don't get too excited about this one either. After my distressing fortune cookie incident, I cheered myself up by watching my favorite new show with my favorite new object of desire. Yes shut up I've heard the gay rumors and I don't care. But not only was my recently escaped released prison hunk on, but so were the Tampa Bay Buccaneers! Yes shut up I know they lost and I don't care. This has nothing to do with football, though as those close to me know, I'm a football freak. No no no, it just so happens that I am more interested in the coach of the Bucs than I am the actual team. For some bizarre reason he just does it for me. And as I watched his sideline antics with more than a little shame... I recalled that I had written about how Jon Gruden just happens to be my shamefully shaggable man - exactly one year ago to the day! Yes, Gruden still makes me hot. Nice to know some things don't change.

Ok maybe not.

Five Things That Make Me Go EEEEK!

1. Bugs. Hate 'em. All of 'em. Except for ladybugs. They are adorable and I do everything I can to save them. I used to feel this way about spiders too. "NO! Don't hurt the spider! It could be Charlotte!" That sympathy went out the window after I lived in Australia and learned about spiders like this.

2. Light bulbs. Not in general, it's not like I have some twisted phobia. I just hate when they blow out. I squeal like a little girl when they make that pop sound as you turn on the light. It's really quite embarassing. I also break into a small sweat when I have to pull a new one out of its protective cardboard casing. Will it come cleanly? Will my freakishly strong fingers bust through the delicate glass? Someday when I find a man, lightbulbs will be his dominion.

3. Shopping. Clearly I am missing some sort of girlie gene that makes the shopping experience enjoyable. I especially hate shopping for clothes. And shoes. And lingerie. Pretty much anything that I have to physically try on is not a pleasant time for me. Today I went shoe shopping and I could not wait to get out of the store - and that was just to buy work shoes! Buying high heels? The very thought makes me break out in hives. Are they cute according to the cute girlie standards? Or are they trashy and make me look like a $20 whore? I have no clue.

4. Poop.I really don't like anything poop. I mean, I like a good poop joke as much as the next person, but the reality of poop makes me very uncomfortable. Actually it's not the poop itself, it's the odor. I have a highly sensitive sense of smell, and poo stink just makes me gag. There are few things worse than walking into a bathroom where someone has just dropped a cagadota. Dirty diapers, doggy doo, even just stanky farts can bring bile to my throat. In fact, this entire paragraph is making me a little ill.

5. Boys. EEEEK!

Photo Caption Contest!

Rick Santorum and family during his concession speech.

Winner will get nothing and like it.

Hey Ya!!! It's Time for a Happy Dance!!!!

This Pleases Me to No End

You Are Buffy the Vampire Slayer

"We saved the world. I say we have to party."

What Superheroine Are You?

Keyword Searches and Asshats

I so enjoy seeing how people land on my site that I am thinking of making this a monthly feature. Yes, that is what I am going to do. Starting now I will post keyword searches at the beginning of each month. Or the end of each month. Either way. I'll have to think about it. I feel my anal retentiveness going into overdrive.

You Looking for Me?
Brooke - now found in Iran!
Brooke needs - newly #1!
Brooke sucks - not #1!! Yay!
The story of Brooke - I started out as a child...
Badgirl Brooke - #1 for this one is titled "Bad Girl Brooke Gets a Spanking." No, it's not me. Shut up.

Perverts
Accidental Flash - still #1!
I want to see my teacher's boobs - from St. Paul Minnesota. I do believe I have a friend in that area.
Women's Rears - that could be just about anyone.
Does Jon Gruden have a honey girlfriend? - I'll be his honey girl! (Shut up!!)
Barbra twat - who is in no relation to Turkey Twat or Ham Twat.
Barney Fife lookalike - ew.
Dakota Fanning lookalike - seriously.
Bea Arthur lookalike - what the hell is wrong with these people?
Amsterdam hookers drunk - I'm so ashamed.

Things That Make You Go What the Fuck?
My body feels like its boiling and going to explode - I hope they found a doctor.
Priceless grampa fish - see title of this section.
Breakfast of champions coffee cigarettes - this is either my doppelganger or the man I've been waiting for my whole life.
Cheeburger for gays - I think that all people, regardless of sexuality, are entitled to a good cheeburger.

------------------------------------------------------------

While the searches are amusing, they have also brought some stress. I have a new freak hanging around my blog. Unlike the regular freaks that hang about, this freak is not welcome and is starting to piss me off. For purposes of this post, I will call him Asshat. Asshat seems to be obsessed with someone named Mel and someone else named Jason. Now, it seems that Jason has a dog named Ralph. Coincidentally, I once wrote about a guy I knew - 15 years ago - who had a dog named Ralph. Here is the post, it happens to be one of my favorites.

Asshat was apparently doing a search for Jason and Ralph when he happened upon my blog. Because Asshat is an illiterate troglodyte, he did not bother reading anything else on my blog, and has now become convinced that I am this girl Mel under another identity. I'm sure there are thousands of girls out there who go undercover as 41 year old single schoolteachers to attract men, and I can't help but wonder how that's working for them. It's doing shit-all for my social life, that's for sure.

Asshat went so far as to leave obscene comments on my blog. Allow me to share.

Melanie you are fat and ugly. Cut out your tongue and what is left - one ugly mean person. - left on the celebrity look-alike post - so apparently it's true!! I'm fat and ugly! Woah is me.

sent to your husband mel. you are pathetic. - left on my post about losing my second mom. So mourning the loss of a loved one is pathetic.

I think that Jason has a lot to answer for. Melanie S. has leveled some pretty serious allegations against what Jason lets Ralph do to women. - left on the Ralph post last month. And may I add - HUH??

Ask Melanie Spencer what she thinks of Ralph. I think she might say that Ralph likes Jason's girl friend as much as he does. Sick. - also left on the Ralph post last month. HUH???

Not only has Asshat left me these completely bizarre and fucked up comments, but he has gone so far as to create a completely incoherent blog and list me on there as - are you ready for this - Jason's Dog home page written by Melanie. My blog is a dog's homepage??? Who knew?

I made a comment on Asshat's blog telling him to leave me alone, and while he hasn't been back, he didn't take me off his blog either. Feel free to go over there to recommend some medications and forms of therapy for Asshat. And thank him for taking a perfectly lovely post about a dog saving my life and turning it into something sick and twisted in his fucked up little world. Also, feel free to kick his ass and make him cry like a girl.

Thank you. Please send Grand Marnier.

Current Man of My Sexual Fantasies Dreams

Weep Not For The Memories

I lost someone close to me this week. A woman who was like a mother to me. An aunt, a friend, a mentor. A rock of strength and a beacon of warmth. A true inspiration. Words are not working here...they sound shallow and pointless. You had to have known her. I can not begin to explain the depth of my sadness. Just the thought of never seeing her again brings me to tears.

The funeral was on the street where I grew up, just two blocks from the very beach where our families played when we were very young. It was like being transported in time; at once wonderful and painful, comforting and agonizing. My heart is heavy, literally, I can feel its weight in my chest. It hurts to breathe.

I hugged her children before the service, grown-ups now with kids of their own. We still play together on holidays, but now there is an uncertainty. What will we do now? She was the glue, they know that. How lucky they were to have her as their mother. They know that too. I tried to be strong, to not cry. When one of them whispered to me, "Oh how she loved her Brookie," I broke down - just fell to pieces. I know though, that I was lucky to have her in my life. Not just have her in my life, but be loved by her. I take pride in that - that she loved me as one of her own. I have been blessed.

I weep not for the memories. I weep for not having her with me to share my future. I am selfish. I know this. I want her here with me, with all of us.

I want to be better. I want to be like her. And I will be. I just wish she were here to see it.

---------------------------------------------------------

May the road rise to meet you.
May the wind be always at your back.
May the sun shine warm upon your face.
And rains fall soft upon your fields.
And until we meet again,
May God hold you in the hollow of His hand.

Like I Needed A Quiz to Tell Me This

You Are a Bad Girl

You are 30% Good and 70% Bad You're a total bad girl, from your wild hair to tattooed toes. But you're too badass to even care if you're labeled "bad"!

Actually my toes aren't tattooed, but my bad-ass is. Thank you.

Are You a Good Girl or a Bad Girl?

What I Learned in School This Week

About fire safety:
Remember Ms. Wose, never play with mattresses.

About the vocabulary word "coincidence":
I know a coincidence, Ms. Wose! My daddy and her daddy are getting out of jail on the same day! That's a coincidence!

About how to spell the word "but":
giggle giggle giggle

The Colors of Ms. Wose

When I asked her why the two pictures, she said, "This one is with your skin....

and this one is you with my skin."

My Celebrity Look-alikes

See which celebrities you look like.
Comments not included.

I Have Nothing to Say

That is all.

Free Hugs

To offset my previous hate-filled rant - a little love.
Bet you cry.
Read about Free Hugs here.

10 Things I Hate About You

An open letter to the Sunshine State.

1. I hate the way you are so fucking hot all the time. Enough already. Change your fucking seasons and get with the program. Walking from the front door to the car should not turn me into a sweaty mess every morning. Try spending some time below 90 degrees for a kicky change of pace.


2. I hate your lousy pay wages. The concept of Sunshine Dollars - crappy pay for the privilege of living in your crappy state - is a bunch of crap. And stop patting yourself on the back for not having state taxes. You tax the shit out of everything else to make up for it on a daily basis.
   


3. I hate your drivers. You have four kinds: those who are too old, those who can't speak or read the language, those who are visiting and don't have a clue where they are going, and those who are talking on their cell phones. And they all suck.


4. I hate your politicians. Particularly your governor - who has stolen elections for himself and his big brother. His right hand twat - who helped him and is now being kicked to the curb. This tool - who is quoted as saying, 'I start out with a basic assumption, that the president knows more than I do, and I trust his judgment.' And let's not forget your latest prize: is he a drunk? A gay man? A victim of the clergy's lascivious ways? You decide, cause he sure can't.


5. I hate the way you ruined Fall for me. It was always my favorite season. Now every year I live in fear of the dreaded H word. For that you suck.
   


6. I hate that everybody is so shallow and obsessed with youth, looks, money, and working out. There is more to life than muscle mass and fat percentage. Guys, stop looking in the mirror and try reading a book. You might learn something. Like you're going to be old someday and nobody will care what you looked like. Or that most girls here are not interested in your looks anyway, just your bank account.
   


7. I hate that you spend as little as possible on education. Nationally, you rank 29th for teacher salaries, 38th in per pupil spending, and 43rd in class size. In short, you are creating a generation of citizens who will have a bottom-of-the-barrel education.


8. I hate that you are the only state that explicitly prohibits adoption by gay and lesbian individuals and same-sex couples. And yet in your typical hypocritical fashion, you allow these same people to foster your unwanted children. They can't adopt them and give them a real sense of family, oh no, that would be wrong. So not only do you discriminate against gays and lesbians, but you also punish children who have no families.


9. I hate the fact that blue land crabs run around the streets threatening me with their big claws and making me scream like a little girl. Leave me alone! Go back to the ocean where you belong you dumb freaks! I hate you!
   


10. I hate that there are no rights for tenants so it's ok for my landlord to suddenly decide to jack up my rent by $200. Thanks asshole! Jersey, here I come!

All Quiet on the Jersey Shore

Garden State, Birthday Wishes, and Soundtracks

1. I just flew up to Jersey for a long weekend. I look forward to:
Several nice long walks here.
Eating one (or several) of these.
And some of these.
And drinking lots of this.
Oh, and seeing my family. That too.

2. It's the fantabulous Miss Kendra's birthday. I send boob smooshes and inappropriate groping her way for her big day. And this too. Enjoy!

3. For those who didn't believe my perfect soundtrack, I did it again. Cause yes, I'm that anal and insecure.

Opening Scene: Din Da Da - George Krantz
Bah!... Bah!... Bah!... Bah!...
Bah!... zoom zoom
Bah!... zoom zoom
Bah!... zoom zoom
Bah!... zoom zoom

Wake Up Scene: A Little Less Conversation - Elvis
A little more bite and a little less bark
A little less fight and a little more spark
Close your mouth and open up your heart and baby satisfy me
Satisfy me baby

Average Day: Heavy - Collective Soul
Complicate this world you wrapped for me
I'm acquainted with your suffering

1st Date: You Suck - The Murmurs
Oh you paralyze my mind
And for that you suck

Falling in Love: Crazy - Seal
No we're never gonna survive unless
We are a little Crazy

Fight Scene: Tubthumping - Chumbawumba
I get knocked down
But I get up again
Youre never going to
Keep me down

Break Up Scene: Ocean - Mother Nature
Sounds of waves breaking on the beach. I swear!!

Back Together: Somewhere Out There - Our Lady Peace
Last time I talked to you
You were lonely and out of place

Secret Love: Let's Talk About Sex - Salt and Pepa
Let's talk about sex, baby
Let's talk about you and me
Let's talk about all the good things
And the bad things that may be

Life's OK: 10th Avenue Freeze-out - Bruce Springsteen
The night is dark but the sidewalk's bright
And lined with the light of the living

Mental Breakdown: All These Things That I've Done - The Killers
Help me out
Yeah, you know you got to help me out
Yeah, oh don't you put me on the blackburner

Driving: Why Can't I Be You - The Cure
You're so perfect!
You're so right as rain!
You make me make me make me
Make me hungry again

Learning a Lesson: Crown - Collective Soul
Who's gonna be my savior
Now that I've learned to believe
Who's gonna be the answer
To all of my questioning

Deep Thought: Like A Rock - Bob Seger
Twenty years now
Whered they go?
Twenty years
I dont know
Sit and I wonder sometimes
Where they've gone

Flashback: I'm A Believer - Smashmouth
Love was out to get to me
That's the way it seems
Disappointment haunted
All my dreams

Partying: Delicate - Damien Rice
And why do you sing Hallelujah
If it means nothing to you
Why do you sing with me at all?

Happy Dance: Strict Machine - Goldfrapp
Wonderful electric
Cover me in you

Regretting: Like A Friend - Pulp
You are the last drink I never should have drunk
You are the body hidden in the trunk
You are the habit I can't seem to kick
You are my secrets on the front page every week

Long Night Alone: Coconut - Harry Nilsson
Put the lime in the coconut
You drink 'em both together
Put the lime in the coconut
Then you feel better

Death Scene: Still Got The Blues - Gary Moore
So long
It was so long ago
But I've still got the blues for you

Closing Credits: I'll Be Your Baby Tonight - Robert Palmer
Kick your shoes off
Do not fear
Bring that bottle over here
I'll be your baby tonight

What's Your Soundtrack?

Found out Lushy's.

Here's how it works...Put your iPod or whatever music player you have on shuffle. The first song that you hear will be the song for your Opening Scene. Skip to the next song, this is your next category. Keep doing this until the end.

Opening Scene: American Girl -Tom Petty
Well she was an American girl
Raised on promises
She couldnt help thinkin that there
Was a little more to life somewhere else

Wake Up Scene: Chasing Cars - Snow Patrol
If I lay here
If I just lay here
Would you lie with me and just forget the world

Average Day: It's My Life - Bon Jovi
Better stand tall when they're calling you out
Don't bend, don't break, baby, don't back down

1st Date: Learning to Fly - Pink Floyd
Can't keep my eyes from the circling skies
Tongue-tied and twisted just an earth-bound misfit, I

Falling in Love: Why Can't I Be You? - The Cure
You turn my head when you turn around
You turn the whole world upside down
I'm smitten I'm bitten I'm hooked I'm cooked
I'm stuck like glue!

Fight Scene: Machine Head - Bush
Breathe in breathe out
Breathe in breathe out
Breathe in
Breathe in
Breathe in

Break Up Scene: Save Yourself - Stabbing Westward
I know that you've been damaged
Your soul has suffered such abuse
But I am not your savior
I am just as fucked as you

Back together: A Song For You - Ray Charles
I love you in a place
Where there's no space or time
I love your for my life
Cause you're a friend of mine

Secret Love: White Flag - Dido
I will go down with this ship
And I won't put my hands up and surrender
There will be no white flag above my door
I'm in love and always will be

Life's OK: Sweet Caroline - Neil Diamond
Hands, touching hands, reaching out
Touching me, touching you
Oh, sweet Caroline
Good times never seem so good
I've been inclined to believe it never would

Mental Breakdown: Head Like A Hole - Nine Inch Nails
Head like a hole
Black as your soul
I'd rather die than give you control

Driving: Bawitdaba - Kid Rock
Bawitdaba da bang da bang diggy diggy diggy
Said the boogy said up jump the boogy

Learning a Lesson: Harder to Breathe - Maroon 5
You drain me dry and make me wonder why I'm even here
This double vision I was seeing is finally clear
You want to stay but you know very well I want you gone
Not fit to fuckin' tread the ground that I'm walking on

Deep Thought: Delicate - Damien Rice
So why do you fill my sorrow
With the words you've borrowed
From the only place you've known

Flashback: Into The Mystic - Van Morrison
I want to rock your gypsy soul
Just like way back in the days of old
Then magnificently we will float into the mystic

Partying: A Little Less Conversation - Elvis
A little less conversation, a little more action please
All this aggravation aint satisfactioning me
A little more bite and a little less bark
A little less fight and a little more spark

Happy Dance: Ooh La La - Goldfrapp
I need la la la la la la
I need ooh la la la la
I need la la la la la la
I need ooh la la la la...

Regretting: Under the Milky Way - The Church
Wish I knew what you were looking for
Might have known what you would find

Long Night Alone: Thunder Road - Bruce Springsteen
So you're scared and you're thinking
That maybe we ain't that young anymore
Show a little faith there's magic in the night

Death Scene: The World I Know - Collective Soul
So I walk up on high
And I step to the edge
To see my world below
And I laugh at myself
As the years roll down
Cause it's the world I know
It's the world I know

Closing Credits: All These Things That I've Done - The Killers
Over and out, last call for sin
While everyone's lost, the battle is won
With all these things that I've done

A Picture's Worth A Thousand Words

Sharkbait Update

Yes yes, you all want to hear about Sharkbait - especially my favorite simian - whom I can never say no to. See how that works? You don't want to know about my sweet little girls and my adoring little boys (one of whom brought me a first edition of Uncle Tom's Cabin today - I'm still trying to work that one out) but no, you want to hear about the bane of my existence. The hell in my heaven. The pain in my ass.

We finally had a meeting with Mother Sharkbait. Much to Sharkbait's delight, his mother was hostile, angry, and eager to jump to the defense of her poor persecuted child. In my kindliest teacher voice, I explained how Sharkbait's safety, health, and education are the most important things to me - that his best interests are all I care about. And then I gently dropped the little bombs - the use of both the F word and the N word, the dirty looks, the pushing and shoving and kicking of other children. Slowly but surely Mother Sharkbait worked her way to my side of the room. Much to Sharkbait's horror, the words "military school" and "permanent grounding" started being thrown about. By the end of the meeting, she was promising to send me pictures of her newborn twins, and Sharkbait was looking at me with that old familiar, "Where did I go wrong?" look on his face.

So Ms. Wose, has he gotten any better?
No, not really. Well, maybe a little.

Does he still make me crazy?
Yes. Every. Single. Day.

So then, he's still alive?
Yes. Every. Single. Day

to be continued...

Reason I Teach #5

We have a fabulous vocabulary program at our school. Each week we read a story to the kids that has six new words in it. The words are not simple little words like house and bad; but words like shelter and dreadful. The concept is that kids from lower-income families don't get exposed to the kind of vernacular that children from more privileged families experience on a daily basis. The children are not required to learn how to spell the words - this is about exposure to language and the meaning of the words. And it works! I often hear the kids use the words in everyday chit-chat, and I get a huge chuckle out of hearing them.

"Ms. Wose, that homework was a real challenge last night!"

"Wow, that was a delightful story!"

Last week one of the words was complain. The story I read was all about a boy who complains non-stop about his horrible day. As we talked about the story and the word, we all decided that nobody is really interested in listening to a complainer - it's just no fun.

Today one of my students told me that she used the word complain at home.

ME: "Oh really? How did you use it?"

Student: "I tole my grampa he need to knock off all his complainin' - cause nobody's interested."

I wonder when grampa will be calling to complain about his grandchild's teacher.

My Cable Network

Celebrating 200 posts! These are some of the more interesting ways people have happened upon the Babbling Brooke in the last few weeks. I haven't bothered to include the dailies: Brooke, Brooke Burke's tits, and Accidental Flash (still number one!) cause it's just redundant already. So here are the recent keyword searches - in the now easy-to-read television listing format. Welcome to the Brooke Dork Network.

Lifetime

• Boys wear capri pants
• Lonely Margate City moms - Flounder, is that you?
• Jojo does she have a older sister
• My missing fingers

CNN

• Tickling torment
• Photo reign of terros
• Ear piercing baby in europe godfather
• Brunei trivia

HGTV

• Brooke HGTV
• How to behave in someone's house
• Signs of anal retentiveness
• Pic hanky over tits

Animal Planet

• Largest german shepherd that ever lived
• Death omens white german shepherd
• Tattoo monkey lips
• Jasons dog Ralph blog Australia saved me - clearly this person was looking for this post. I'm not afraid to say that I'm a bit afraid.

E! News Network

• Scofield a sociopath
• Hot teacher interview
• Who is Viggo's girlfriend - I never get tired of this one.
  

MTV

• Flashing boobs
• Babbling boobs
• Teacher boob accidental flash

The Discovery Channel - new!

• Mummification sex
• Hanky Panky tattoos Amsterdam

Also, I would like to add that Technorati blows. And sucks. It sucks and blows. That was for you Todd. Whenever I check who is linking to me, I see new blogs there, but the actual number of links doesn't change - if anything, it keeps going down. This leads me to believe that I am either being totally dissed by Technorati - fuck you I'm not even linking your dumb site here so there - or I am being dumped by blogger after blogger. I'm guessing this is happening because I'm a dork. No, I really am. I took the test and everything, and it turns out that I am an official dork. Power to the dorks!

My Relationship Destiny

...according to Tickle.

Wild thing, you make our hearts sing. Daring and headstrong, you know that the world is full of all kinds of adventures and possibilities, and you want to try as many of them as possible. Whether you've already met the action hero who's bold enough to join you on your travels, or are still looking for a soul brave enough, you're sure to enjoy the search.

A risk taker by nature, you're not afraid to put yourself on the line, whether you're scaling mountains or falling in love on the first date. Sure, that means you'll get a few bumps and bruises along the way, but for a courageous spirit like you, that's part of the fun. How romantic!

I think this is Tickle's nice way of saying, "Get used to being alone, slut. No wedding bells for you."

For The Hass-Been Fans

Kudos to the has-been never-was who is not afraid to admit to being a dirty old scumbag desperately trying to pick up teenagers in his penis mobile. Bravo to The Hass-Been!

A Message for the President

Click here for a good laugh.

9/11

I still can't look at a firefighter without thinking of that day. I can't watch old movies or tv shows that have shots of the Towers. I can't see pictures of Ground Zero without feeling a physical ache in my chest. I can't watch anything about September 11th without bursting into tears. I can't believe that the pain is still as fresh as it was five years ago - if not more so.

I'd like to send out a special thank you to CBS for showing this beautiful, heartbreaking, and moving documentary on 9/11. It was incredibly classy, sensitive, and responsible all at once. Well done, gentlemen.

I'd also like to send out a special fuck you to ABC for showing their bullshit "docudrama of the events leading to 9/11" on the five year anniversary of that very day. It shows a remarkable lack of class, sensitivity, and responsibility. Well done, assholes.

September 7th

Last year nobody was able to get me what I wanted for my birthday. Maybe this year I will nail him get lucky. I'm still holding out hope. In the meantime, Sysm sent me this as a substitute until the real thing comes along. And Tits sent me this, so I am at least on the right track. Tits' present is NSFW - you've been warned.

Just because I turned 40 last year does not mean I can't turn 35 this year. Time is relative. Ask Einstein. I don't know what that means but it's my birthday so I can say what I want.

Happy birthday to me! Yay!~~

Where's my cake?

It's Raining Again

New Do

May I present - my new look. I like it. If you don't like it, keep it to yourself. I'm really not all that interested in your opinion. Unless you like it, of course. Then feel free to express your thoughts. In other words, if you don't have anything nice to say, go fuck yourself.

So instead of actually getting any real work done today, I played around with my new template. I wonder sometimes what I would do with my time if Al Gore hadn't invented the Internet.

Five days 'til my birthday. I'm turning 35.

Shut up.

You Can Take It With You

Telephone conversation with a friend while watching The Mummy on television for the 112th time.

Friend: Damn, Brendan Fraser has never looked so good.

Me: I know, he's usually so pasty.

Friend: I think The Mummy is hot, too. I'd do him.

Me: I think mummification should come back in style.

Friend: Did you hear how they removed your brains? No thank you.

Me: Yes, but you're already dead anyway, and with mummification you can take your stuff with you.

Friend: That is a bonus. Ok, works for me.

Me: So what would you take?

Friend: My jewelry for sure. And probably my breadmaker. I love my breadmaker. And I'm sure they like bread in heaven.

Me: You're so sure you're going to heaven?

Friend: Fuck you. What would you take?

Me: George Clooney.

Friend: You are such a freak.

Me: Fuck you, you're the one who wants to do a mummy. You're just pissed you didn't think of him first.

Friend: Do you always think of sex?

Me: Do you always think of food?

Friend: Like you don't.

Me: You can make us toast in the mornings after all the sex.

Friend: You're so sure you're going to heaven?

Me: Oh I'm going to hell. Actually no, I teach in the ghetto! I have a free pass to heaven. And I'll be banging George Clooney for eternity while you serve us fresh toast every morning.

Friend: Fuck you.

Me: Don't forget the butter.

**edited slightly after morning phone call from Friend stating that I didn't get all the dialogue correct. Well excuse the hell out of me. Artistic license or failing memory, you decide.

The Weturn of Ms. Wose

Now well into my second week of the new school year, I finally have a moment to take stock of the happenings thus far. The difference between being a first-year and a second-year teacher is beyond comprehension. I spent all of last year without a fucking clue as to what to do or how to do it. I don't even think that I realized how clueless I have been and for how long until just this week. I hate being clueless - it puts me in perpetual state of panic. It doesn't help that I am an anal-retentive freak who has to have everything perfect - an impossible feat for any first time teacher. But now I actually feel like...dare I say it... I know what I am doing. Other people are now asking me what to do and how to do it - and the best part is - I know the answer! It's nice to actually have some confidence again. Also, I like telling people what to do.

And now, a few highlights of the past couple of weeks.

• My classroom is so fucking cute I can barely stand it. I actually went to work a week early - with no pay - to work on it. Hello anal-retentive freak! But it was worth it. It's organized, colorful, and inviting. And the best part is, it no longer smells like dead rat. Why did it smell like dead rat, you ask? Because there was a dead rat in my room the week before school started. Welcome to the hood!
  


• Soooo excited about the promise of smaller class sizes this year. Last year I had 23 kids, 24 at one point until one child moved away. We were told we'd have no more than 20 this time around, and back in May I got my class list and saw that I had 19. Joy oh joy! Only 19, perfection! Two days before school I got my revised class list. 24 kids. I like to think of my naiveté as charming.
  


• I have a class full of sweet little girls and bad little boys. It's every kiddie stereotype you've ever seen. The boys actually pull the girls' hair. However, the girls outnumber the boys, so I'm looking forward to the girls kicking a little boy butt this year.
  


• There is one little boy in particular I am hoping the girls take care of for me. I never thought I would say this about a student, but honestly I'd like to throw this kid to the sharks. He's spoiled, loud, and generally a shit. He has had seven tantrums in seven days of school. And when I say tantrum, I mean crying-screaming-stomping-will-not-move-or-respond tantrums. Two of them were over crayons. One was because he got in trouble for kicking another boy. Another was because he got caught tripping a girl and laughing at her. If he doesn't throw a tantrum he gives me dirty looks or clucks his tongue at me. When he does behave, it's ruined by his need to point out his good behavior - I have heard "Look, I'm being good," come out of his mouth about 20 times a day. Yesterday he melted down yet again right before dismissal - which seems to be his favorite time. This was a mistake. I had had it. I dragged his scrawny butt to the office and let the principal ream him a new one. He actually gave her dirty looks while she did so. So Mom was called in for a conference. Today he showed me the mark on his leg where Mom took the belt to him. It was tiny, barely a scratch, but I actually smiled. Yes, I'm going to hell. I'm sure I'll be writing more about him in the future, so from this moment on, he will be known as Sharkbait. Hoo ha ha!
  


• Sysm sent me yet another fabulous present for my class. The kids went wild when they saw their new ubercool markers. Mr. Sysm is now the class hero, as he was to my class last year. All hail Sysm!!!
  


• My feet hurt.
  

I Have a Cold... Already

It's That Time Again

Tomorrow is the first day of school. Wish me luck!

Almost Famous

So a few weeks ago I received an email requesting an interview for The Blog Reader. Yes, you read that right. Someone actually wanted an interview. With me. To talk about blogging. Fuck, the world is a wonderful place. Of course I happily agreed, and two days later young Justin called me at the designated time to talk about ME.

Poor guy didn't know what he was in for. We wound up talking on the phone for well over an hour, and I was able to learn quite a bit about my new friend. Of course he didn't mention in his (well-written) article my amazing ability to get people to talk about themselves while elusively avoiding any personal questions about myself. In fact, he didn't even mention the laughter, the tears, the bonding! Harumph! Actually, I'm impressed he was able to cull anything at all out of my incessant rambling. In short, I'm a lousy interview. But a fabulous conversationalist!

Anyway, here it is: My Interview. Please click and read. And comment. Show Justin some love. Thank you.

P. S. I have no recollection of ever uttering the name Murgatroid.

It's a bird! It's a plane!

It's Super Teacher!

Super Teacher will be busy for a while as she makes the world classroom beautiful for her new crop of monsters students.
Carry on!