Stereotypes are (NOT) fun!

Racism!

I don't know. I'm white. I feel odd calling people out. It makes me seem so holier than thou- but when someone says this,

"They're like that, you know..." (I was going to give all sorts of details, but then realized it actually doesn't matter what behavior was in question or what race we're speaking of. Clearly, it's just all the biggest bunch of crap any way you look at it.)

When it's someone you absolutely have to have a good relationship with, when the comment is not even true of the specific people in question let alone their entire race, when you're seething but she's just got the best of intentions- what do you say?

Only on the internet

Happy Birthday, Roses!

This is so bizarre. I just followed the directions here, and this is what came up:


But then I realized that I had used my real name instead of my on line name, so I typed in my on line name, and this is what came up:



I thought I'd share both, because, you know, whatever floats your boat.

Watch This

I loved this movie. I'm not even going to review it, because I knew nothing about it and I believe that the lack of knowledge enhanced the experience.

Mantras

I have this quote above here, "However vast the darkness, we must supply our own light." I think that, when I was a kid, I went to Sunday school with my friends to pass the time, and we sang that, "This little light of mine" song a bit too much.

I have a new friend at work who has a motto,
"Don't get into a knife fight unless you're prepared to get cut."
She's a teacher. This is her motto. I guess she won't have a TV movie made after her, but she sure does seem like an interesting person to me.

There was this guy I worked with my first year of teaching, and he said once in a staff meeting,
"Teaching is really the toughest job you'll ever love."
At that moment, with all that was happening- well, let's just say I only partly agreed with that statement.

Another guy always said, "Just keep pounding that stone." If applied to teaching, I have absolutely no idea what that means.

I worked with yet another teacher who told me,
"First, keep them busy. Second, teach them something." Hm...
That's almost like "Safety second" or "Put on the condom after you pull out..."

Then, one of my oldest, dearest friends has a motto, "Even the air itself is filled with monsters."
She isn't a teacher. I think she works retail. So, that makes sense.
She wrote the most fantastic thing in my yearbook one year, and it all turned out to be a quote that wasn't in quotations.

Truly, my own motto is, "Do your best with the time you have been given." I think that quite often. It's really boring, though.

Anyone else have a motto to live by?

The Art of Teaching

I feel like it's wrong to blog about work. However, I can make a few general statements, now that school has actually started, like this:

Teaching is ___________________ .


A. a performance art

b. very gratifying

c. very frustrating

d. fun

e. exhausting

f. all of the above



Good test takers will note that, if the test is written by a human (and not by committee), "all of the above" is the most likely correct answer. Good writers will note that "very" is an overused word that should be avoided at all cost.

The things people never believe, Part 3

I started life as a redhead, and the older I get, the blonder I get. The most dramatic change happened when I was away in Sweden for a year at the age of seventeen. I came back to California, and most people assumed I had died my hair blond. It was just too unbelievable that someone could actually turn blond from living in Sweden. I mean, come on!

I never wanted to be a blond. Ever. At all. I would have loved to spend my entire life as a redhead, or even a brunette.

So, when I swear I don't dye my hair blond, I think I come off just a little bit over-the-top.

The things people never believe, Part 2

I went through this phase in college when I really liked root beer. Seriously. A&W was my favorite. But whenever I talked about my love for root beer, people invariably believed that it was a euphemism for actual, alcoholic beer. I guess it's just a stereotype about college students. When I said,

"No, really, root beer!" That just brought on laughter and nudges and such.

I finally learned to keep my root beer habit a secret.

The things people never believe, Part 1

Have you ever been in a situation where denial only made you appear more guilty?

Situation Number 1:

The Scene: Junior high school, sixth grade. Mr. Rob's class.

I was awkward and goofy and new to town, and I liked to wear clothes that clashed. I had a secret crush on a monosyllabic toeheaded guy whose name was not Jeff.

In Mr. Robb's class, Jeff (Jeff who was not the object of my affection) walked by me and whispered,

"Meet me by the drinking fountain."

I didn't really know a thing about Jeff, but you know, in the sixth grade, this was high drama. No way was I going to not meet him at the drinking fountain.

Five minutes went by. Class continued in some chaotic way. Eventually, Jeff (did I mention I hadn't really noticed him before?) mosied on over to the drinking fountain. I followed, feeling very self conscious.

Once I arrived beside him, Jeff addressed me with a great air of authority,

"Listen, I know you like me, but I already have a girlfriend."

And then he left. Before I could say anything. He just left. Back to his seat.

Of course, I could have followed him and insisted I didn't have a crush on him. I could have written him a note and told him what a pompous lummox he was. But wouldn't it all have made it look sort of like I really had a bad crush on him?

I stood there, for ages, in front of that drinking fountain, my mouth hanging open in shock.

I think he later did some modeling and I remember that, in the eighth grade, he kept feeling my legs when we were on the school bus on some field trip.

What a lummox.

A Minor Injury

This morning, as I was getting Little Z ready for her second visitation at preschool, and getting ready to go to work at my new job and plan some curriculum (awesome!) I stepped on something. Something sharp. In the bathroom!

So, my foot was bleeding and the bandaides were downstairs and I was upstairs and we were in such a rush and - well, I just patched it up and went on our merry way.

But it hurt. It felt like there was something in my heel.

About four hours later, I was trying to figure it out but I could barely wrap my foot around my body enough to see what was going on, and then Little Z was crawling on my shoulders. I started wondering if I should go see the doctor? Surely having something stuck in your foot was reason enough? But I felt like such a woose. It was probably just a splinter. I finally convinced Little Z to try and take a nap- if only for the sake of my foot- and then I started digging in some horrible way with a needle, right into my heel, and wouldn't you know it? THERE WAS A BIG PIECE OF GLASS IN MY FOOT! Which I pulled out with some tweezers.

So, I guess there was some cause for concern.

My foot feels much better without the piece of glass stuck in it. I have no idea how the glass happened to be on my bathroom floor.

I'm a little embarrassed about the lame nature of this post. Most of my creative energy is going towards my new job, about which I am very excited.

Little Z actually asked me about my foot when I went and got her from her nap. I was surprised. What's this? Empathy? Herra Gud.