1.24.2006
Don't read this. It's boring.
Ahhh...new job. You know, I just realized today that this psuedo-teaching thing is the closest thing to a "real job" that I've ever had!
It's true! I get a lunch break, I'm not required to lift 50+ pounds all the time and I don't feel the need to clean whenever I find myself sitting for five minutes...although, I'm just as antsy in a classroom as I've ever been...but, for once in my life, I'm actually being productive (well, in controlling behavior...) when I pace around the room.
Today was my second, and notably more civil, day as a leader of a classroom...on day one, I mistakenly expected to be internally showered in the same type of emotions I used to get when feasting on chicken-fried steak...instead, I found myself smothered in cream-gravy madness...
I figure things will get less exhausting when I get more comfortable...I figure...right?? Ok...actually, I don't have high expectations for this. In fact, I don't have any expectations for anything...basically, where will this job lead me? I have no idea.
There are also a few other things that I've chronicled in the past week...maybe not new things, but maybe just things that have finally come to my attention:
1. I don't know how to iron. I've been asked this before,like,"Hey, do you even know how to iron?" Me: "Pssh. Of course I know how to iron. Who doesn't know how to iron?"
So, in reality, I've done my best to learn as I go and I've found that it's not all that difficult...but, I'm sure I'm doing things the hard way. Should it take 25 minutes to get the wrinkles out of pants?
Also...to make this circle complete...I've also realized that I HATE ironing.
2. Attempting to get teenagers to "behave" completely sucks all the humor and easy-going-ness out of my personality.
3. I'm so lame. I found myself standing over a couple of 15-yr-olds today...policing their internet activities...and, without a thought, the phrase, "What is that,a ninja?" actually came out of my mouth. Umm...they weren't looking at ninjas...they were looking at a band's (unknown to me) website. Not ninjas.
This may sound funny now, but, I assure you...no chuckles were had.
4. There's more...but, I'm tired...and still trying to figure out how I'm going to pay my way-over-due bills...besides being called a racist, the other downside of sub-ing is learning to deal with not being paid out in cash daily...
Right. One day...it'll all become normal...
It's true! I get a lunch break, I'm not required to lift 50+ pounds all the time and I don't feel the need to clean whenever I find myself sitting for five minutes...although, I'm just as antsy in a classroom as I've ever been...but, for once in my life, I'm actually being productive (well, in controlling behavior...) when I pace around the room.
Today was my second, and notably more civil, day as a leader of a classroom...on day one, I mistakenly expected to be internally showered in the same type of emotions I used to get when feasting on chicken-fried steak...instead, I found myself smothered in cream-gravy madness...
I figure things will get less exhausting when I get more comfortable...I figure...right?? Ok...actually, I don't have high expectations for this. In fact, I don't have any expectations for anything...basically, where will this job lead me? I have no idea.
There are also a few other things that I've chronicled in the past week...maybe not new things, but maybe just things that have finally come to my attention:
1. I don't know how to iron. I've been asked this before,like,"Hey, do you even know how to iron?" Me: "Pssh. Of course I know how to iron. Who doesn't know how to iron?"
So, in reality, I've done my best to learn as I go and I've found that it's not all that difficult...but, I'm sure I'm doing things the hard way. Should it take 25 minutes to get the wrinkles out of pants?
Also...to make this circle complete...I've also realized that I HATE ironing.
2. Attempting to get teenagers to "behave" completely sucks all the humor and easy-going-ness out of my personality.
3. I'm so lame. I found myself standing over a couple of 15-yr-olds today...policing their internet activities...and, without a thought, the phrase, "What is that,a ninja?" actually came out of my mouth. Umm...they weren't looking at ninjas...they were looking at a band's (unknown to me) website. Not ninjas.
This may sound funny now, but, I assure you...no chuckles were had.
4. There's more...but, I'm tired...and still trying to figure out how I'm going to pay my way-over-due bills...besides being called a racist, the other downside of sub-ing is learning to deal with not being paid out in cash daily...
Right. One day...it'll all become normal...
1.23.2006
What ye ask? Well, my favorite socks happen to be arrrrrrgyle.
Ok. Because I'm lazy and I can't think of anything original to say, I'm going to leave you with some pre-packaged entertainment. This pretty much sums up my entire sense of humor....except for mabye Simpsons and MST3K (um...if you've ever thought that I was funny, it was a complete sham...sorry)....
So, enjoy.
So, enjoy.
1.21.2006
I'm getting a gun. Seriously.
I'm so fucking sick of the ghetto.
I'm sick of everything in it...about it...the goddam people...the mentality...and the attitude.
As I sit here at 4 am listening to incredibly loud and blaring techno music come from the apartment complex across the street while waiting for the police to arrive, I have time to contemplate life's complexities...
Oh no, wait...this gives me time to think about who the hell might have been banging on my front door an hour ago...basically, that's what woke me up in the first place, but it didn't wake me up enough to figure out what was going on and have me call the police then...
On top of this, I had my first experience substitute teaching today (yesterday?)...and, let me tell you, I pretty sure I learned a hell-of-a-lot more than any student did. By the time I left that school, I had been threatened, called many a name (I'm not really bothered the least bit by this...), and, of course, been deemed a racist four times (well, four incidents by two different girls).
I had to explain to one girl that her being an asshole didn't have much to do with her race...but, if she wanted to think that I was racist, she could go right ahead.
Anyway, I know that I'm dealing with kids...I'm trying not to take it personally...because it's not. I know this.
But, my general anger at society fire has just been flaming particularly hot today...and then I abstract it and apply it to the fact that I live in a country that's doing it's best to keep people like me from ever having children or a family...because, gee wizz, look how great all the hetro's kids turned out! Hell, if the homos ever get their hands on the ability to marry or raise children, society will be in shambles and completely destroyed!
Well, the news is...we're already there, and I'm pretty sure that the gays didn't take the lead...but, hell, maybe they....um, I mean we, did.
Ok. I figure the cops came and told that complete fucking idiot to turn off his music...and maybe he even suggested that Apt. Idiot turn his speaker towards the inside of his apartment, rather than the street...Whoa! Whatta concept!
I'm sick of everything in it...about it...the goddam people...the mentality...and the attitude.
As I sit here at 4 am listening to incredibly loud and blaring techno music come from the apartment complex across the street while waiting for the police to arrive, I have time to contemplate life's complexities...
Oh no, wait...this gives me time to think about who the hell might have been banging on my front door an hour ago...basically, that's what woke me up in the first place, but it didn't wake me up enough to figure out what was going on and have me call the police then...
On top of this, I had my first experience substitute teaching today (yesterday?)...and, let me tell you, I pretty sure I learned a hell-of-a-lot more than any student did. By the time I left that school, I had been threatened, called many a name (I'm not really bothered the least bit by this...), and, of course, been deemed a racist four times (well, four incidents by two different girls).
I had to explain to one girl that her being an asshole didn't have much to do with her race...but, if she wanted to think that I was racist, she could go right ahead.
Anyway, I know that I'm dealing with kids...I'm trying not to take it personally...because it's not. I know this.
But, my general anger at society fire has just been flaming particularly hot today...and then I abstract it and apply it to the fact that I live in a country that's doing it's best to keep people like me from ever having children or a family...because, gee wizz, look how great all the hetro's kids turned out! Hell, if the homos ever get their hands on the ability to marry or raise children, society will be in shambles and completely destroyed!
Well, the news is...we're already there, and I'm pretty sure that the gays didn't take the lead...but, hell, maybe they....um, I mean we, did.
Ok. I figure the cops came and told that complete fucking idiot to turn off his music...and maybe he even suggested that Apt. Idiot turn his speaker towards the inside of his apartment, rather than the street...Whoa! Whatta concept!
1.13.2006
Sufferin' succotash! Ssthomone ssthould take tthis girlssth's credit card away!
I received my Simpsons-related-impluse-purchase in the mail yesterday...
Funny thing about buying stuff online, I don't always remember that I bought something incredibly pointless and inane until it shows up in my mailbox...I will never get back $7 I spent on a tongue-ring whistle.
Of course, I bought it, so I figured I'd try to get some use out of it.
But, first, a little background on my tongue piercing...
I had a professional-dude put a hole in my tongue about nine years ago...almost to the date, actually. I really had no reason to do it...besides that I found a place that would pierce me without parental consent (as I was 17 at the time) and I was caught in a short-lived current of controlled self-mutilation...in the same week, I put three holes in my earlobes using a sewing needle and a thimble (I tried using ice too, but the cold hurt more than the dullish needle)...
The guy who aided in my moment of suburban rebellion was nice enough to pierce it further back than most people usually sport it...so, consequently, I've never really had to be self-conscious of being perceived as a "wild child"* when I'm interviewing for jobs or singing in the church choir.
I'm providing you with this background, because when someone does realize that I still have my tongue pierced, I'm almost ALWAYS asked, "Well, if you don't pay attention to it...and it really doesn't serve any purpose...why do you still have it?"
I'll tell you why...because when I was 17 and people asked me why I had it pierced in the first place...the only thing I could come up with was, "...so I can see how far in life I can go with a piece of metal through my tongue...why else?"
So. There you have it...and I'm still working on it...and it hasn't gotten in the way of me doing anything that I've wanted to do up to this point...and, as soon as it does, I'll get rid of it.
...generally speaking, I don't pay attention to it...I don't notice it...I don't play with it...it's just there. But, earlier this week, I saw that whistle-ring and I thought that it'd be cool to accessorize just because I could. The last time I even thought about my tongue piece is when my dentist reminded me that it need to come out during my root canal...
In steps the tongue whistle...I became giddy while inserting it into my tongue-hole...thinking of all those uses this accessory would present (see posting from earlier this week)...I positioned according to the directions and proceeded to awkwardly blow...
...and...got nothing. Well, unless you count the noise air makes when it's blown through teeth and the subsequent sound of spittle being forced out of slightly open lips...but, certainly not the awesome sound a $7 tongue-ring-whistle should make.
I even messed with it a little...took it out and put it back in the opposite direction...and still, no whistle power.
So, I gave up after wasting five minutes of my precious time on this earth. But, I didn't immediately take it out...I closed my mouth and tested how it would feel if I did decide to keep it in.
This was kinda the fun part...so, it didn't make the noise it was supposed to make when I was using it properly...but it DID give me a marked speech impediment a la your standard cartoon character (there's one I'm thinking of particularly, but I can't seem to place it right now...maybe later)...you know, the lispy whistle sound made whenever a word requires the tongue to press against the front teeth?
So neat, it is. So, if you were ever wondering how you could obtain that oh-so-sought-after lisp you've always wanted...now you know.
*I think that if ANYBODY still believes that having a tongue piercing is a sign of a wild, uncontrollable personality, they need to wake up from their nap at Nancy Regan's "Just Say No!" Tiny Tots Day Care...I would guess that about 85% of people my age have some sort of outrageous and rebellious body piercing.
Funny thing about buying stuff online, I don't always remember that I bought something incredibly pointless and inane until it shows up in my mailbox...I will never get back $7 I spent on a tongue-ring whistle.
Of course, I bought it, so I figured I'd try to get some use out of it.
But, first, a little background on my tongue piercing...
I had a professional-dude put a hole in my tongue about nine years ago...almost to the date, actually. I really had no reason to do it...besides that I found a place that would pierce me without parental consent (as I was 17 at the time) and I was caught in a short-lived current of controlled self-mutilation...in the same week, I put three holes in my earlobes using a sewing needle and a thimble (I tried using ice too, but the cold hurt more than the dullish needle)...
The guy who aided in my moment of suburban rebellion was nice enough to pierce it further back than most people usually sport it...so, consequently, I've never really had to be self-conscious of being perceived as a "wild child"* when I'm interviewing for jobs or singing in the church choir.
I'm providing you with this background, because when someone does realize that I still have my tongue pierced, I'm almost ALWAYS asked, "Well, if you don't pay attention to it...and it really doesn't serve any purpose...why do you still have it?"
I'll tell you why...because when I was 17 and people asked me why I had it pierced in the first place...the only thing I could come up with was, "...so I can see how far in life I can go with a piece of metal through my tongue...why else?"
So. There you have it...and I'm still working on it...and it hasn't gotten in the way of me doing anything that I've wanted to do up to this point...and, as soon as it does, I'll get rid of it.
...generally speaking, I don't pay attention to it...I don't notice it...I don't play with it...it's just there. But, earlier this week, I saw that whistle-ring and I thought that it'd be cool to accessorize just because I could. The last time I even thought about my tongue piece is when my dentist reminded me that it need to come out during my root canal...
In steps the tongue whistle...I became giddy while inserting it into my tongue-hole...thinking of all those uses this accessory would present (see posting from earlier this week)...I positioned according to the directions and proceeded to awkwardly blow...
...and...got nothing. Well, unless you count the noise air makes when it's blown through teeth and the subsequent sound of spittle being forced out of slightly open lips...but, certainly not the awesome sound a $7 tongue-ring-whistle should make.
I even messed with it a little...took it out and put it back in the opposite direction...and still, no whistle power.
So, I gave up after wasting five minutes of my precious time on this earth. But, I didn't immediately take it out...I closed my mouth and tested how it would feel if I did decide to keep it in.
This was kinda the fun part...so, it didn't make the noise it was supposed to make when I was using it properly...but it DID give me a marked speech impediment a la your standard cartoon character (there's one I'm thinking of particularly, but I can't seem to place it right now...maybe later)...you know, the lispy whistle sound made whenever a word requires the tongue to press against the front teeth?
So neat, it is. So, if you were ever wondering how you could obtain that oh-so-sought-after lisp you've always wanted...now you know.
*I think that if ANYBODY still believes that having a tongue piercing is a sign of a wild, uncontrollable personality, they need to wake up from their nap at Nancy Regan's "Just Say No!" Tiny Tots Day Care...I would guess that about 85% of people my age have some sort of outrageous and rebellious body piercing.
1.11.2006
Body by Sting and my brother.
When I picked up the mail yesterday, I passively thought to myself, "Christ, why am I receiving so many damned Victoria Secret catalougs? I don't remember ever signing up for anything...whatev...I'll just throw it on top of the other 8."
It actually even went through my mind that maybe Vicky's started doing some sort of daily newletter/catalouge that I couldn't care less about.
But, as I was checking my email this morning, the back of the most recent delivery sat on the couch and stared back at me reveling a nugget of truth...
It was addressed to my brother...so, of course my curiosity sparked...I went and checked out all the other catalouges....they were ALSO addressed to my brother!
My brother's never actually lived here, but this is one of his several mailing addresses in town...and I guess the one that he enjoys doing all his mail-order linerge shopping from.
We'll be having a little talk about this upon our next meeting...
It actually even went through my mind that maybe Vicky's started doing some sort of daily newletter/catalouge that I couldn't care less about.
But, as I was checking my email this morning, the back of the most recent delivery sat on the couch and stared back at me reveling a nugget of truth...
It was addressed to my brother...so, of course my curiosity sparked...I went and checked out all the other catalouges....they were ALSO addressed to my brother!
My brother's never actually lived here, but this is one of his several mailing addresses in town...and I guess the one that he enjoys doing all his mail-order linerge shopping from.
We'll be having a little talk about this upon our next meeting...
1.10.2006
Ouch.
Ok. So, I don't know if you guys have noticed or not, but I haven't really been writing on the "blog" very regularly...It just feels kind of pointless and blah blah lately...and, this "lately" has been going on for a while. I'd retire it, but that'd be pointless too...I wouldn't want to have nowhere to blab when I feel like it.
...and, when I can't organize a complete thought, it's frustrating...and here I am. Today, I looked at my hands and realized that all the scars that I've acquired in the past year aren't going anywhere...ever. I guess that's why they're really scars.
I've got my favorite: the "quick grab it outta the oven, that swordfish's way over-done!" left-forearm tag...this one's about two inches long...(if only I had an OveGlove!)
..and my least favorite: the "ok, I'm just about ready to check out...just let me clean this chef's knife really quick...OH DEAR GOD, NO!" right index finger cut/scar...I'm not really sure how to categorize this one. It's been over a month since the initial injury and it STILL hurts...like, significantly...like whenever it's brushed, I can feel it and it makes me cringe...like, whenever I put ANY pressure on it, I whimper...um, I don't think this is going away.
...and while I thought about...yes, it's true, I was thinking...I do this sometimes....about things. I was thinking about how I'm *seriously* applying to the Peace Corp...how I'm barely working at my current part-time job but I have a slew of ideas for other jobs being thrown my way...how QP was drinkin' some Mississippi stuff this evening and talked about moving to Austin...how the girl, who swore UP AND DOWN over and over again, for OVER A MONTH that she was going to move into my house...bailed on me last night....AND how nothing is really causing me any stress in the current moment.
...except for my hand scars and their unfading presence.
...and, when I can't organize a complete thought, it's frustrating...and here I am. Today, I looked at my hands and realized that all the scars that I've acquired in the past year aren't going anywhere...ever. I guess that's why they're really scars.
I've got my favorite: the "quick grab it outta the oven, that swordfish's way over-done!" left-forearm tag...this one's about two inches long...(if only I had an OveGlove!)
..and my least favorite: the "ok, I'm just about ready to check out...just let me clean this chef's knife really quick...OH DEAR GOD, NO!" right index finger cut/scar...I'm not really sure how to categorize this one. It's been over a month since the initial injury and it STILL hurts...like, significantly...like whenever it's brushed, I can feel it and it makes me cringe...like, whenever I put ANY pressure on it, I whimper...um, I don't think this is going away.
...and while I thought about...yes, it's true, I was thinking...I do this sometimes....about things. I was thinking about how I'm *seriously* applying to the Peace Corp...how I'm barely working at my current part-time job but I have a slew of ideas for other jobs being thrown my way...how QP was drinkin' some Mississippi stuff this evening and talked about moving to Austin...how the girl, who swore UP AND DOWN over and over again, for OVER A MONTH that she was going to move into my house...bailed on me last night....AND how nothing is really causing me any stress in the current moment.
...except for my hand scars and their unfading presence.
1.08.2006
Well, it's company policy to give you the plauge.
Every week there's a canal...or an inlet...or a fjord.
Yes. Every week...
So, here it is. At this late hour, all I can think of to make myself more interesting are Simpsons quotes and Simpson's related impulse purchases.
As I went on an endless search for the shifty whistle-ring, I found myself falling upon a variety of breath-powered novelties...
such as: the Oscar Myer Wienermobile whistle, the boring and useless key ring whistles, and, last but not least, my favorite...the tongue ring whistle.
Which did I end up purchasing?
Well, lets just say that all of you naysayers of ornamental mouth pieces are about to be...um, blown down...if you will.
Just think of all the everyday goings-on that'll give me the opportunity to help thy fellow man... It'd be like...like...I'm living a new life....
Day One
Little Girl: Mommy! Mommy! Puppy looked at me and then he ran-ed to the car that moved fast and didn't see puppy! Look Mommy!
Me: Don't worry, Little Girl......TWEEEEET! TWEEEET! You there, puppy! Stop before you find yourself flat!
Conclusion: Tongue whistle saves the day.
Day Two
Tongue whistle and Mel-a-rific break for Flag Day.
Day Three
Government Official: Alright then. It's settled. From this day forward, no other legislative action will commence officialdom until the sound of the whistle is heard during the 26th session of our...
Me: TWEEEET! TWEEET!
Government Official: Oh no! That's not how it was supossed to happen....!
The rest is left to your imagination....
Yes. Every week...
So, here it is. At this late hour, all I can think of to make myself more interesting are Simpsons quotes and Simpson's related impulse purchases.
As I went on an endless search for the shifty whistle-ring, I found myself falling upon a variety of breath-powered novelties...
such as: the Oscar Myer Wienermobile whistle, the boring and useless key ring whistles, and, last but not least, my favorite...the tongue ring whistle.
Which did I end up purchasing?
Well, lets just say that all of you naysayers of ornamental mouth pieces are about to be...um, blown down...if you will.
Just think of all the everyday goings-on that'll give me the opportunity to help thy fellow man... It'd be like...like...I'm living a new life....
Day One
Little Girl: Mommy! Mommy! Puppy looked at me and then he ran-ed to the car that moved fast and didn't see puppy! Look Mommy!
Me: Don't worry, Little Girl......TWEEEEET! TWEEEET! You there, puppy! Stop before you find yourself flat!
Conclusion: Tongue whistle saves the day.
Day Two
Tongue whistle and Mel-a-rific break for Flag Day.
Day Three
Government Official: Alright then. It's settled. From this day forward, no other legislative action will commence officialdom until the sound of the whistle is heard during the 26th session of our...
Me: TWEEEET! TWEEET!
Government Official: Oh no! That's not how it was supossed to happen....!
The rest is left to your imagination....
1.05.2006
I said it once and I'll say it again...Hook em' Mutha Fuckin' Horns!
Ok. So, I'm not the biggest football fan around, but tonight, this one big guy ran up and tackled this other big guy on the field..next thing you know, we're all cheering!
So, then after that, the faster, more nimble big guy on OUR team (this would be the Longhorns, if you weren't following) threw the ball and another one of our guys caught it...he ran and ran and ran....and then, TOUCHDOWN!
We were cheering. This calls for a shot.
There were times when the bad guys were winning...this was not very happy...no cheers were called for...
But, in the end...OUR team won...(this would be the Longhorns...if, um, you weren't following..)...so that means, hey..
WE'RE NATIONAL CHAMPIONS! (...the Longhorns, that is...)
It was really weird...everyone else in the city thought it was pretty cool, too! And to think..I thought I was the only one. They were all honking their car horns and shouting and stuff...neat.
I can say it's actually one of the neatest things I've seen 'round here.
Ever. Really...ever.
Ok. So, I'm not the biggest football fan around, but tonight, this one big guy ran up and tackled this other big guy on the field..next thing you know, we're all cheering!
So, then after that, the faster, more nimble big guy on OUR team (this would be the Longhorns, if you weren't following) threw the ball and another one of our guys caught it...he ran and ran and ran....and then, TOUCHDOWN!
We were cheering. This calls for a shot.
There were times when the bad guys were winning...this was not very happy...no cheers were called for...
But, in the end...OUR team won...(this would be the Longhorns...if, um, you weren't following..)...so that means, hey..
WE'RE NATIONAL CHAMPIONS! (...the Longhorns, that is...)
It was really weird...everyone else in the city thought it was pretty cool, too! And to think..I thought I was the only one. They were all honking their car horns and shouting and stuff...neat.
I can say it's actually one of the neatest things I've seen 'round here.
Ever. Really...ever.
1.04.2006
Nobody walks in Memphis.
Stupid holidays. Kills my brain. Makes me feel no talk about it.
I was in Memphis for the past five days. I just got back today after an ever-so-fun 10 hour drive...by myself...but, I had da IPod with all my favorite sing-a-long tunes. So, it wasn't that bad.
I had a fucking blast during my trip...and that's an understatement. I'd talk about it, but...I feel like I've been trumped already..
So, honestly...I just don't see the point in doing anything...anymore.
I was in Memphis for the past five days. I just got back today after an ever-so-fun 10 hour drive...by myself...but, I had da IPod with all my favorite sing-a-long tunes. So, it wasn't that bad.
I had a fucking blast during my trip...and that's an understatement. I'd talk about it, but...I feel like I've been trumped already..
So, honestly...I just don't see the point in doing anything...anymore.
