For having a link to this site on your blogspot.
This entertained me for a good hour or so. Start with the January 9th post and read forward.
Heather, Sally and Aki - do you think this person is rooming with Miriam?
http://ihatemyflatmate.blogspot.com/
Monday, March 14, 2005
Saturday, March 12, 2005
What do people do in Suburbia?
As of late, I find myself wandering around my house in my pajamas muttering about the slow, spiritless world of suburban Surprise. I peer out my library windows and surreptiously spy on my neighbors, wondering what they are doing in their little stucco sanctuaries. Are they bored like me?
How long can I hide in my garage going through truckloads of "boxed things" that connect me to my vibrant past? Is it wrong to stand in my shower, gaze up through the skylight and wonder what would happen if a tornado struck the barren desert? Would my Solatube go before the rest of the ceiling? Would I be sucked up through the hole?
Elvis even looks bored here. His big puppy eyes roll heavenward hourly as if to say, "I can't believe we are here. Perhaps we can take another road trip and I can pee on the world's largest ball of twine once again."
Years ago, my friends predicted that I'd rack up college degrees, move to Manhattan, storm Corporate America and have some boys-as-toys to keep me occupied on weekends. How did I end up in the place where people go to reproduce and mow lawns? How come those colorful tri-fold brochures for new housing developments never feature a truthful slogan such as "Suburbia. A vortex of nothingness."
I've come to the conclusion that if I don't figure out how to liven this place up, I may have to schedule a prison break.
Anyone in?
How long can I hide in my garage going through truckloads of "boxed things" that connect me to my vibrant past? Is it wrong to stand in my shower, gaze up through the skylight and wonder what would happen if a tornado struck the barren desert? Would my Solatube go before the rest of the ceiling? Would I be sucked up through the hole?
Elvis even looks bored here. His big puppy eyes roll heavenward hourly as if to say, "I can't believe we are here. Perhaps we can take another road trip and I can pee on the world's largest ball of twine once again."
Years ago, my friends predicted that I'd rack up college degrees, move to Manhattan, storm Corporate America and have some boys-as-toys to keep me occupied on weekends. How did I end up in the place where people go to reproduce and mow lawns? How come those colorful tri-fold brochures for new housing developments never feature a truthful slogan such as "Suburbia. A vortex of nothingness."
I've come to the conclusion that if I don't figure out how to liven this place up, I may have to schedule a prison break.
Anyone in?
Thursday, March 03, 2005
Swamp Ass Cooler
Have you ever been in Phoenix, dead August, no AC, your only hope a metal box on the side of your house? If so, you know that the only so-called substitute for AC is a pathetic "swamp" cooler that doesn't do much to cool your festering house and rid you of that not-so-fresh-feeling.
But alas! There is hope! Someday, my friend Ericka and I will own and operate a chic-chic, uber-cool coffee grotto near Arizona State University. Our mission, aside from caffeinating college co-ed's, will include keeping a cozy, comfy,clothes-minimal establishment called Java-n-Jammies. You show up in somewhat tasteful jammies, and we'll provide a venue for you to hang out (figuratively, at least).
We bet our business will have year-round appeal. In the winter, visit in your flannels and hoist a cup of steamy Joe. In the summer, buy an iced-coffee and avoid the sweaty, smelly clubs that crowd the Mill Avenue strip.
This brings me back to my original point. Summertime in Arizona is damn, frigging hot. Not just warm. Not toasty. Ridiculously over the top crockpot hot. Even with the AC blowing, you will accumulate beads of perspiration which eventually will travel downward and settle in your buttocks region. People know this syndrome as "swamp-ass."
Ericka and I have decided (with a little help from Bettina) that we need to tackle this sticky situation. Therefore, in all bathrooms at Java-n-Jammies, you will not find a typical hot air hand dryer. Oh no. We at JnJ want to go above the call of duty to dry out your drawers. Every bathroom will have an AC-like blower known as a "Swamp Ass Cooler." Aim the nozzle at your nether-regions and blow.
We figure if it blows your skirt up, it's gotta be good.
But alas! There is hope! Someday, my friend Ericka and I will own and operate a chic-chic, uber-cool coffee grotto near Arizona State University. Our mission, aside from caffeinating college co-ed's, will include keeping a cozy, comfy,clothes-minimal establishment called Java-n-Jammies. You show up in somewhat tasteful jammies, and we'll provide a venue for you to hang out (figuratively, at least).
We bet our business will have year-round appeal. In the winter, visit in your flannels and hoist a cup of steamy Joe. In the summer, buy an iced-coffee and avoid the sweaty, smelly clubs that crowd the Mill Avenue strip.
This brings me back to my original point. Summertime in Arizona is damn, frigging hot. Not just warm. Not toasty. Ridiculously over the top crockpot hot. Even with the AC blowing, you will accumulate beads of perspiration which eventually will travel downward and settle in your buttocks region. People know this syndrome as "swamp-ass."
Ericka and I have decided (with a little help from Bettina) that we need to tackle this sticky situation. Therefore, in all bathrooms at Java-n-Jammies, you will not find a typical hot air hand dryer. Oh no. We at JnJ want to go above the call of duty to dry out your drawers. Every bathroom will have an AC-like blower known as a "Swamp Ass Cooler." Aim the nozzle at your nether-regions and blow.
We figure if it blows your skirt up, it's gotta be good.
Monday, February 28, 2005
Food Porn
I was online looking for barbeque clip art (don't ask - something for Prom committee) and I ran across this site.
http://www.house-of-sins.com/food/
This site was created to help people not crave food. I, however, would like some of the chocolate covered strawberries.
http://www.house-of-sins.com/food/
This site was created to help people not crave food. I, however, would like some of the chocolate covered strawberries.
Wednesday, February 23, 2005
The Rain in Spain
My poor friend Greg is bored at home with only his lovely wife and beautiful daughter to keep him company (pobrecito). He is looking for a job right now as he has been taking care of his little one this past school year. Today, he comes to my classroom to deliver two pieces of information. The first is that I don't write on my blog enough to keep him happy, hence this post. The second, I found worthy enough to share with my public.
The Arizona Republic (aka "The Rag" and "The Repulsive") published an article last November that originally ran in the Wall Street Journal. If it hadn't run in the Journal, it wouldn't be appearing on my oh-so-superior blogspot.
The article, "Some talk ain't cheap," highlights the problem of poor grammar in the workplace. According to the article, a person can be overlooked for potential job promotions due to how he or she sounds.
I always believed this fact to be common knowledge. Presentation is everything, right? In fact, concise communication is so important that many companies are paying speech and image consultants thousands of dollars to play Professor Henry Higgins for their junior and senior execs.
This led me to think about my current workplace environment. Every once in a while, I slip in a “y’all” to get my students’ attention or I throw out some gangsta-speak to connect with my homies in the classroom. They need to identify with this almost 30-year-old white girl somehow.
I can’t tell you, however, how many times a student has looked at me and said, “Ms M., you talk way too smart for us.” When that happens, I correct his grammar. And then I reflect about my teaching style because I know if I “talk too smart” that my students will tune out.
The writer of the article warns me that I can’t sound like a teen, use poor grammar, use an abrasive accent, curse or talk tentatively if I want to succeed. In most workplace environments, these are words to live by. But to play communication coach in the high school environment, I sometimes have to display 4 out of the 5 above listed characteristics just to get my stubborn, smut-speaking students to “talk pretty” so that they can succeed after graduation day.
Sadly, the clever consultant’s check is worth so much more than my own.
The Arizona Republic (aka "The Rag" and "The Repulsive") published an article last November that originally ran in the Wall Street Journal. If it hadn't run in the Journal, it wouldn't be appearing on my oh-so-superior blogspot.
The article, "Some talk ain't cheap," highlights the problem of poor grammar in the workplace. According to the article, a person can be overlooked for potential job promotions due to how he or she sounds.
I always believed this fact to be common knowledge. Presentation is everything, right? In fact, concise communication is so important that many companies are paying speech and image consultants thousands of dollars to play Professor Henry Higgins for their junior and senior execs.
This led me to think about my current workplace environment. Every once in a while, I slip in a “y’all” to get my students’ attention or I throw out some gangsta-speak to connect with my homies in the classroom. They need to identify with this almost 30-year-old white girl somehow.
I can’t tell you, however, how many times a student has looked at me and said, “Ms M., you talk way too smart for us.” When that happens, I correct his grammar. And then I reflect about my teaching style because I know if I “talk too smart” that my students will tune out.
The writer of the article warns me that I can’t sound like a teen, use poor grammar, use an abrasive accent, curse or talk tentatively if I want to succeed. In most workplace environments, these are words to live by. But to play communication coach in the high school environment, I sometimes have to display 4 out of the 5 above listed characteristics just to get my stubborn, smut-speaking students to “talk pretty” so that they can succeed after graduation day.
Sadly, the clever consultant’s check is worth so much more than my own.
Tuesday, February 22, 2005
Big Chicks Rock
Yeah, yeah, yeah. I want to lose weight. Who doesn't? But dammit, I'm still sexy. And I found a great site to share with all my sexy, not-so-size-six friends.
I found this website while in search of vintage style dresses in not-so-vintage style sizes. Curvy chubbies unite!
http://venusimaging.com
I found this website while in search of vintage style dresses in not-so-vintage style sizes. Curvy chubbies unite!
http://venusimaging.com
Monday, February 14, 2005
I'm gonna be girly...
On the radio the other day, two disc jockeys were postulating that Valentine's Day was all about bragging rights. One woman cannot stand to keep quiet when her man does something wonderful for the Hallmark holiday. I agree.
Personally, I think Valentine's Day is a bit cheesy and overblown. But I am still going to simper and brag. 100 red and white roses, beautifully arranged, arrived in my classroom this morning. A chorus of ooh's and aah's followed. I welled up, just like a typical chick.
It is such a drag to find out I'm so common.
Personally, I think Valentine's Day is a bit cheesy and overblown. But I am still going to simper and brag. 100 red and white roses, beautifully arranged, arrived in my classroom this morning. A chorus of ooh's and aah's followed. I welled up, just like a typical chick.
It is such a drag to find out I'm so common.
Friday, February 11, 2005
Quoth the husband...
Tomorrow is my husband's birthday. He is oh-so-woeful because he is turning 23. Getting old is hard (ha!). I wish I was 23.
To take his mind off his age troubles, I suggest he help me clean up a bit as we are having some people over tomorrow afternoon. He hangs some pictures and attacks the library area with gusto. Within a few minutes, I realize the house is silent so I go to investigate.
I stand in arched doorway watching him fidget with a blue and black raven ornament that I bought from an artist a few Christmases ago. He had torn the ribbon from the top of the small bird and was trying to balance the thin wooden legs on one of the bookshelves. He gets frustrated every time the bird falls over.
He senses my presence and looks up. Deadpan he states, "If only we had the bust of Lenore."
I love this man and his wacky sense of humor. Happy birthday, Honey!
To take his mind off his age troubles, I suggest he help me clean up a bit as we are having some people over tomorrow afternoon. He hangs some pictures and attacks the library area with gusto. Within a few minutes, I realize the house is silent so I go to investigate.
I stand in arched doorway watching him fidget with a blue and black raven ornament that I bought from an artist a few Christmases ago. He had torn the ribbon from the top of the small bird and was trying to balance the thin wooden legs on one of the bookshelves. He gets frustrated every time the bird falls over.
He senses my presence and looks up. Deadpan he states, "If only we had the bust of Lenore."
I love this man and his wacky sense of humor. Happy birthday, Honey!
Wednesday, February 09, 2005
Perhaps a Cinquain...
Recently, we did Cinquians as summaries for some stories we read. Cinquains are structured as follows:
The first line is the subject line
Second line - a two word description of topic
The third contains an action related to the topic
The fourth line is four words containing emotion and providing insight
The fifth line is synonym for the first line
Here was my example:
Teenagers
Lost Sheep
Exploding with Anger
Infuriating, reaching for acceptance
Chaos
My kids actually thought it described them very well. Of course my seniors said it described them years ago... I let them have their pride.
The first line is the subject line
Second line - a two word description of topic
The third contains an action related to the topic
The fourth line is four words containing emotion and providing insight
The fifth line is synonym for the first line
Here was my example:
Teenagers
Lost Sheep
Exploding with Anger
Infuriating, reaching for acceptance
Chaos
My kids actually thought it described them very well. Of course my seniors said it described them years ago... I let them have their pride.
Friday, February 04, 2005
Teaching Reflections
I am not a great teacher. I usually pass mediocre. Sometimes, I stumble upon good. In no way am I teacher of the year.
Lately, I've been disillusioned with my current profession. Endless questions---was I chosen to do this? Should I be teaching? Why am I here?
Upon reflection last weekend, I realized I wanted to remember what it was like to be a newby. My colleagues in my Masters program are beginning their student teaching and I am jealous. I want to have that excitement again.
I came into my classroom Monday and looked around at my quasi-depressing room. Yes, there are pictures on the walls but there are also carvings in the tables. I could have chosen to focus on the bad, but I knew I needed to change my attitude.
I decided to smile more and scowl less. I changed all my lesson plans around. I altered policies and procedures in my second hour class. I listened to their stories with virgin ears. I shared some of my own stories as well. I opened my heart. I reached some of them and reaffirmed my belief that I can't help the ones who don't want the help.
Teaching is not my last profession. For now, it is my current calling. And no matter what, this journey into the classroom is worth it every day as long as I help one child.
Lately, I've been disillusioned with my current profession. Endless questions---was I chosen to do this? Should I be teaching? Why am I here?
Upon reflection last weekend, I realized I wanted to remember what it was like to be a newby. My colleagues in my Masters program are beginning their student teaching and I am jealous. I want to have that excitement again.
I came into my classroom Monday and looked around at my quasi-depressing room. Yes, there are pictures on the walls but there are also carvings in the tables. I could have chosen to focus on the bad, but I knew I needed to change my attitude.
I decided to smile more and scowl less. I changed all my lesson plans around. I altered policies and procedures in my second hour class. I listened to their stories with virgin ears. I shared some of my own stories as well. I opened my heart. I reached some of them and reaffirmed my belief that I can't help the ones who don't want the help.
Teaching is not my last profession. For now, it is my current calling. And no matter what, this journey into the classroom is worth it every day as long as I help one child.
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