Welcome to Turner Land. Enjoy your stay.

Embarrassing Moments

2008-11-12T20:39:00.002-05:00

Many of us tend to feel embarrassed at the doctor's office. Whether it is an unmentionable problem or an awkward conversation about our "uncomfortable zones," it may be easy to feel nervous around the doctors...but never fear.

I stepped embarrassment up to a new level today with my eye doctor.

Brian Regan said it best in his sketch about eye doctor visits. The doctor closes the door. He dims the lights. He wheels up REALLY close to your face. And here you are, 1 inch away from a virtual stranger, as he peers deep into your eyes...with that friggin light...

...and in the midst of the dark room, light shining in my eye, part of the exam, my stomach announces it's presence in the form of a long, drawn out gurgle that must have lasted at least 30 seconds.

And then, as he's giving me the "do you like a or b" clarity test, my stomach begins singing its aria, "Feed Me Seymour" as if competing in the finals of American Idol.

I was mortified...and tried desperately not to laugh.

And what made this situation more awkward was that the doctor just stared at me...like he didn't hear it!! Ummm, I'm pretty sure there are spy satellites linking up trying to find out what atmospheric disturbance occurred around 3 pm today.

I know he heard it. It wouldn't stop. My belly was making sounds like it was trying to communicate with the dead. And he just sat there, asking, "number 1 or number 2? Is this better or worse?" DUDE!! How can you not say something about the tummy??

I can't go back now. I'm sure he was writing nasty things in my file about the symphony playing in my stomach.

Note to self: Find a new eye doctor.

Olympians?

2008-08-11T09:55:00.003-04:00

I have been avidly watching the Olympics since they began on Friday. I love the summer games much more than the winter games. And NO, it's not just because volleyball falls in the summer games. =)

But there is something that bothers me about some of these "Olympic" events.

The Olympics began in Greece as a competition among the elite athletes (get it, Athens--athletes) as a test of strength, speed, stamina, and skill. No one could be compared to these Olympians because they were head and shoulders above the "normal" Greeks as physical specimens.

Now we see the modern Olympic games. I don't doubt that every Olympian is the most skilled at his or her event. BUT, some of these events do not hold true to the strength, speed, and athletic quality that the Olympics was born out of. I don't think that air rifle is an Olympic-level sport. Fencing? Seriously folks, these are NOT athletes. They couldn't hold a candle to the training and physical strength it takes to be in any of the track and field events, swimming, cycling, etc.

I'm also not a fan of the judged events. This also detracts from the original intent of the Olympic games. Judging is too subjective to truly declare "the best" in the event. Although gymnasts and divers and the like are highly trained, strong, competitors, they leave their fate to subjectivity. And we've seen time and time again of the fallacy of this issue...judges not scoring because of prejudice, discrimination, or just plain idiocy (the Chinese women gymnasts were docked .10 point because the judges didn't like their uniforms).

So what is an Olympic event?

Running/swimming/cycling faster? Olympic.
Lifting more? Throwing farther? Olympic.
Scoring more points IN A PHYSICALLY DEMANDING SPORT? Olympic.

Therefore, ping pong is not a sport. It is a past time that should NOT be an Olympic event. Badminton is NOT a sport. It is a past time and NOT an Olympic event. If these are considered Olympic events, then we may as well have Olympic poker, foosball, billiards, bowling, bocce ball, and beer pong. They require the same physical condition and training as some of these other "Olympic" events.

Olympic competitive eating anyone?

Note to self: Find an event to get Olympified in.

Am I old?

2008-08-07T09:52:00.005-04:00

Am I old?

The scenario:
Dewey Beach is a small beach town by Rehobeth Beach. Dewey has good beach areas, plenty of hotels, and the strip of bars and clubs to keep the parties going...until 1 am when they close. My man and his buddies have gone to Dewey for several years running for his birthday celebration. But this year was a little different.

We arrived Friday, laid out by the pool, ate some food at Starboard, and prepared for our night out on the town.

As we walked up a driveway leading to two clubs, it was hard not to notice the prominent difference in atmosphere between these neighbors.

The club on the left was full to the brim with beverage-wielding young adults. While the dj pumped top 40 hits, there was some sort of contest going on that occasionally caused a whooping holler from the crowd in between pelvic-grinding dance moves.
The club on the right was full, but all of the patrons were seated, enjoying their meals and perhaps a beer or glass of wine. A calypso band added a Marley-esque relaxed atmosphere. The noise this club yields, outside of the cool band beats, is a dull mumble of stimulating conversation.

So which club would we enter? As we are all hovering around the bubble of 30, where do we fit more? The Mtv 20 something crowd OR the AARP groupies?

As we entered the silver-laced bar to the right, it occurs to me that we don't quite fit here. A couple is dancing a waltz on the lower deck by the band and much of the conversation reeks of retirement. Not to mention the bartender who thought she "got us" by carding us. Clearly we are the youngest ones in this establishment.

BUT, none of us were interested in the Paris-Britney obsessed crowd in the bar to the left. Personally, I didn't want to throw out a hip trying to make my way through the packed house of skin-baring babes (or should I say babies). The irony is that we all admitted that we used to love that kind of bar.

So does this mean we're old? We'd rather dance a jitterbug and talk about hair replacement than get beer spilled down our backs? And by the way, why are those are only two choices?

Note to self: Design stylish orthopedic shoes. Who said getting old had to be style-less?

What is the deal?

2008-08-06T09:26:00.003-04:00

As volleyball season is a week away, I am very, very excited at the prospects coming back, looking forward to meeting the incoming freshmen, and putting it all together for another run at a state championship. Looking at the rising juniors and returning Varsity girls, I can't wait to see what my months of brainstorming on what I could do to get us that final pearl, that seemingly unattainable feat for this young program who has been denied the blue banner on the wall for three straight years. And as many of us athletes know, once you get a taste of something great, something amazing...that number one ranking and state champion title...you want it more than anything the next time around.

But there is a dark, ominous cloud shadowing my excitement: the ugliness of uncertainty has been rearing its head in the rumor mill. My staff and I have heard all shades of "so-and-so isn't coming back to play next season." After a perfectly fabulous season, great team chemistry, and few intra-team issues....what??!?!?!

What is with the uncertainty? Why don't athletes want to continue playing in the program? This situation isn't isolated to my team or this season, so what's the deal?

Is it positioning? The classic "I should have played that spot instead of her" syndrome?

Is it loss of interest? The old "I don't like playing anymore" issue?

Is it conflicts with teammates or coaches? The ever-present "She doesn't like me/I don't like her" debacle?

While all of those are possible (or probable), I feel that they are all parts of a pervasive issue that is creating weaker, less able kids that believe they should get everything they want when they want it.

My generation (and those before me) were raised with the idea that you finish what you start, you don't question authority, and hard work will pay off in the long run. What is the deal with these athletes? They're not bad kids. They are respectful...to my face. They do work hard. If they didn't, my teams wouldn't be as successful as they were. But on what planet to they think that difference of opinion, be it coach-wise or teammate-wise, isn't going to exist?

Maybe a forum should be presented every year to every kid and parent involved in school and any after-school activities. The theme would be this: working hard and dealing with conflict are parts of becoming a well-rounded, productive adult. Not everyone can be the best. Not everyone wins 1st place. Not everyone is a starting athlete. Not everyone wins the award. And sometimes it isn't fair (or what you deem as fair). But if you quit, and give in, then the person you thought was wrong wins. What could be worse than losing...twice...to your worst enemy??

Maybe I'm totally off-base and there is a plague of disinterest running rampant around my county. But I can't help but question what is making so many kids stop playing a sport they've played for years for seemingly no reason.

All I can say is that there are few people in this world that have ever said that they were sad or wrong for finishing what they started. Not many would say that a difficult situation made them weaker or hurt them beyond repair. The majority would say that sticking to something proved they could do anything they put their minds to and, in the end, they were better for it.

I can't imagine what my life would be like if I didn't play because I disagreed with my coaches, or if I stopped because I had a teammate who didn't like me, or if I stopped because I didn't think I liked playing anymore. I would have missed out on so much...and I would have more regrets than anything else.

SO why don't these kids want to be better people?!? Or a part of a great experience? And most importantly put a State Championship banner on the wall????

Note to self: Apparently winning 4 straight Regional titles isn't enough. Obviously embarrassing a cocky home-team to advance to the playoffs isn't enough. Clearly having two energetic, athletic, and knowledgeable coaches isn't enough. Research what x factor is missing to retain kids in the program.

We came, We ran, We lived.

2008-04-05T10:18:00.003-04:00

Last Saturday, Schneeb and I ran the National Marathon in DC. As many believe that we officially lost our minds, we did indeed finish the 26.2 miles in 5 hours, 11 minutes and 54 seconds. We had an awesome cheering section of Baby Sister, Safety Jon, Josh, Kara, Airbo, McC, Trost, and of course Mr. & Mrs. Schneeb and JMack.

I have to say, although I thought my leg wasn't going to make it around mile 18, I felt really good when we finished. We finished in 1324 place out of 1387 total finishers. I finished 91 out of 95 runners in the female 25-29 age range. At least we can say we weren't last...although it was very discouraging when some runners (the real runners) were finishing the marathon as Schneeb and I crossed the half way point. =P

I don't think I'd run the race again, but I may do this same course for a half-marathon next year. It is an awesome way to get in shape for the spring!!

Note to self: The best motivation to finish a race is running through the worst part of DC. It's amazing the energy you find when you're a little worried...

How to Prepare for a Night Out: Part 1.

2008-01-27T13:08:00.000-05:00

To help bridge the gap between those of us who are applying for AARP and the 20somethings that are in touch with the latest club scenes...here's the list of how to prepare for your night out on the town/clubbin.

TOP SELECTION: Ladies. Shirts that fit are OUT!! You simply must have a top that is one size too small. Why? Because how else are you going to showcase your twins if they aren't busting (pun intended) out? More boobs showing=more free drinks. Double bonus points if your top's first button is strategically located between your twins.
BOTTOM SELECTION: You have a few choices here. A very short, tight black mini can work for you. Just be careful when the "Low" song comes on...you can't get low without a Spears' flash of your haha. If you prefer to get your groove on, the skinny jeans with sleek knee-high boots on the outside is the route to take. Again, more drinks will come if you can't breathe in these jeans. Sitting is simply not an option. Muffin tops sold separately.
SHOES: These are an often over-looked accessory, but it can make or break your ensemble. The shoe of choice MUST include 2 inch heels. Although you'd think these would be uncomfortable....wait...they ARE! All the more fun added to the challenge. Double bonus if you can't walk in them because the heels are too skinny. Nothing is more attractive than a female wobbling across the dancefloor.
MAKEUP: The key here is to draw attention to your most expressive attribute: your eyes. Don't be afraid of the eyeliner. There is no such thing as too much. Think raccoon. The club will be dark...we want the whites of your eyes to glow like Ross' teeth on Friends. Double bonus points if you can slap on some fake eyelashes too.
SMALL TALK: It is imperative to seal the deal with a bubbling personality to go with your bubbling beverage of choice. What better way to display your inner-you than by mind-numbing small talk. Parroting whatever is said to you is the safest route. Although, simply giggling, nodding, and talking extensively about minute details (like how much wine you've already consumed) cannot be discounted here. Please don't forget the side of “fishing for compliments” by commenting on your “big butt,” “thunder thighs,” “flabby arms,” etc. You are sure to draw attention to your perfect rock-hard body by pointing out your "flaws."

So all in all my friends, there is much to be said about the preparation to branch into the new generation of club scenes. Stay tuned for the next installment of How To Prepare...

Note to self: Invest in Icy Hot and ankle braces to make it through the night with the 20somethings.

Reflections of Blue Knob

2008-01-21T12:02:00.000-05:00

Last weekend, I accompanied the band, Justin Mack, to Blue Knob Ski Resort for some winter wonderland experiences. Here's the hit list of observations.

People slow down for flashers regardless of the flashers use. Even if the state cruiser is CLEARLY escorting some precious cargo on a wide flat-bed truck, everyone slows down to 35 mph on Rt. 70. Awesome. Do they realize this is the one time they can fly past and not get caught?
PA is COLD. The -13 windchill reminds me exactly why I moved away from the frigid north.
Blue Knob=Out Cold the movie. Watch it and learn.
Don't eat pretzels in bed even if you think you're being careful. Those little salt granules are abrasive and hard to see on white sheets!
Sheetz MTO rocks.
Wedges can fly...from my trunk into the middle of the parking lot.
Naps are completely necessary.
Never underestimate the number of times the phrase "I love you" can be used in 1 hour by numerous liquor-loving patrons.
You can have entertainment ADD. Be careful about the bands/djs you book. They may not mesh well.
The 1980s are alive and well on the mountain. Tight jeans were the number 1 offense committed by men. Huge hair maintained by Aquanet tops the list for the ladies. Only 1 pair of jorts were present.
Showers and deodorant are NOT optional.

Note to self: Open a dance studio for those who'd like to be corrupted by experiences of dj'd events.

Holy Crap!

2007-11-17T11:13:00.000-05:00

Ok, so I have been insanely busy with school, volleyball, and my boy...but oh what an awesome time this has been!!

Here's the 411:

My 'Canes are headed back to their 3rd straight State Championship match tonight!! We'll face the formidable Reservoir Gators in the 3A finals...and hopefully the euphemism will prove correct that the 3rd time IS the charm!! I'm so proud of my Awesome 8...and anxious for the match to begin!
I never knew how many meetings would come with teaching 45 special ed students AND being a head coach. Screw SMAC voting and IEPs!!
My own team, the Titans, played in our first fellowship last weekend. The outlook is good...we did pretty well for a new team. They are playing right NOW at the U of Maryland. Unfortunately, I am with my 'Canes, calming nerves and preparing to kick some rear!
Justin and I are moving into a cute little townhouse around the corner from my current place in Naptown. We may be moving as soon as next week! I'm so excited! It all started with some alfredo noodles...=)

SO...hopefully tomorrow will bring happy news!!

Note to self: Hand lotion is necessary from August to November. Christmas shopping has already begun...for everyone else! Project Runway is back...and I get to "design" a new house! Schweet!

Ren Fest 2007

2007-10-07T09:30:00.000-04:00

If you have never been to a Renaissance Festival...you NEED to go! And let me tell you why:

A) The food. Ren Fest is a celebration of food from the "Renaissance Era" whilst enjoying a slightly modern twist. You can get a gigantic turkey leg and steak on a stake. Who wouldn't want to honor the Atkins diet in a better way? There are healthier options (salads, wraps, etc), but WHO wants to be healthy at Ren Fest?

2) The meade. Not only is Ren Fest a celebration of food, but it also gives a huge shout out to the lagers and ales we all enjoy. 'Tis a tad pricey per beverage, but totally worth it in the way you get to carry the plastic cup all the way to the priveys every 15 minutes. =)

D) There is no better place for people watching EVER. There are shows, shopping, and activities (like axe throwing) where all the freaks and geeks from everywhere come to gather in celebration of their oddness. Not to mention the costumes!! Many of the patrons dress in Renaissance garb, complete with women proudly displaying their breasts in corsets and men in tights with swords. I'm telling you...it is worth every penny you spend on grub and meade to enjoy the "scenic" views.

As Billy says, "I'll put money on it that these people also attend comic book conventions." I added that Star Trek conventions couldn't be too far behind.

Note to self: Gyros NOT in Greece just plain stink.

Oldies but goodies.

2007-10-03T21:44:00.000-04:00

Have you heard the new Bruce Springsteen song?? I'm obsessed since my man played it for me last night.

Check it out here.

Too bad youtube blocked the video. It is refreshing to hear some solid music by someone who used to rock when I was a wee little tot. It give me hope for the music world....maybe this song can beat out some of the earth-shattering lyrics atop the charts today:
....let me buy you a drank....
....i don't need the cheese or the car keys boy i like you just the way you are...
....g-l-a-m-o-r-o-u-s yeah...

Note to self: Use quotes from student papers to write the next hit song...alone in my principals...(please get it baby sister).

I will survive...

2007-10-01T19:29:00.000-04:00

Yes I know. It's been awhile...but I'm so swamped with volleyball and teaching that I hardly have time to eat and sleep. Sheesh I'm tired.

But I need some help on this one. Halloween is right around the corner...and we all know that means it's time for the witty costume. Hmmmm. I don't have time to think, so what do YOU think I should be?

Requirements need be:

Funny
Ironic
Clever
Easy to put together (budget and time are NOT on my side)
Slut-factor need be included
Can work as a duo with Justin

Post it soon!!

Note to self: Find a way for papers to grade themselves.

If it ain't broke, it ain't mine.

2007-08-22T22:10:00.000-04:00

I'm living in technological hell.

My camera was (and is no longer) broken. Stupid campers.
My hard drive DIED. 4 trips to the Geek Squad later, I have a new hard drive, NONE of my old files, and now I get to redo EVERYTHING.
My car lighter isn't working anymore, which is totally lame since now I can't charge my phone OR my iPod while driving.
AND today, my left front headlight went out.

It all started with the tv. What's next...WAIT...I retract the question. I don't want to know.

Note to self: Service plans rule. Double days are OVER. I love food and sleep...and a little bit of Greek time.

5=45.

2007-08-10T18:45:00.000-04:00

5 miles to the Wilson Bridge. That's what the sign said as Schneeb and I rolled to a stop on my favoritist of roads, The Beltway. 5 miles. 5 measly little miles.

5 miles that took us 45 minutes to cross over the bridge. That's right folks. 45 minutes of rolling at 2 mph, stopping, cursing, lane changing, stopping, cursing, shifting in the seat, cursing, etc.

This leads to Turner's School of Driving rule #95634: (and aptly put by Schneeb) The Bridge is the same width as the road so you DO NOT HAVE TO SLOW DOWN TO CROSS IT.

And draws a reference to rule #4: Pass on the LEFT you psychotic idiots. If you can't hang with the big dawgs in the left lane, resign yourself to that fact that you are a tortoise and join your flock in the right lane.

Note to self: Never work in DC because your road rage will cause harm to yourself and others. Stay clear of the Beltway and anything with a 4, 9, or 5 in the title from the hours of 4-6 pm.

And now a word from our sponsors...

2007-08-09T22:18:00.001-04:00

To summarize today's McC shopping extravaganza, in straight-up Sesame Street style, today's blog has been sponsored by: pants, the number 3, and the Visa Gold Card (cause Visa is everywhere you want to be).

Pants: McC needed "work pants" and we made a VERY big step today. That's right. McCandless has joined the 21st century style SANS PLEAT. Yes ladies and gents, McC is now the proud owner of non-pleated, no wrinkle, fade-resistant khaki pants. (insert round of applause here) It has taken me 5 years, but it paid off. They look good Brian.

The number 3: This was the magic number of the day. Brian has 3 pairs of new pants. We only had to go to 3 stores to find them. I bought 3 bags of things. We were done shopping after 3 hours. We waited 3 years for our drinks at Chevys. We watched 300 this afternoon. Maggie McG is turning 3 (a very cute 3 at that) very soon. I could go on, but I'll stop.

And the Visa Gold Card: Visa paid for everything today. Now, it would truly be a miracle if we could get the bill to disappear.

Note to self: Liam loves to jam, eat lemons, and knock over water. Maggie loves to share ice cream cones, play dominos, and give herself a black eye. I loved every second of their awesomeness at dinner tonight....especially the qt with Bill, Sue, and Brian.

Words of Wisdom.

2007-08-08T10:23:00.000-04:00

I’m guessing it was the Chinese who decided that people needed bits of wisdom and inspiration from their food. I mean really. Do we really like fortune cookies or are we really after the advice on the inside?

And many other companies have jumped on the “food for thought” bandwagon. Laffy Taffy has jokes. Starbucks has “fun facts” on the sides of the cups. And Dove Chocolate puts little nuggets of zest on the inside of the wrapper.

So here’s what I really want to know: how does one become a writer of these juicy pieces of worldly knowledge? Here are the nuggets of zest from this morning’s sugar rush:
“Go to your special place.”
“When two hearts race, both win.”
“Smile. People will wonder what you’ve been up to.”
“Keep the promises you make yourself.”

Do they post in the local paper? I can only imagine what the job description would read. “Are you full of useless knowledge? Can you predict the future? Can you write a wonderfully-crafted, vague sentence that can provey earth-shattering wisdom upon the chocolate eater?”

Note to self: Never underestimate the power of a $70 train ticket and a whole day of peppering with Baby Sister. Or the right phone call on a long drive home.

Life's a Beach.

2007-07-30T13:19:00.000-04:00

Just got back from a weekend getaway to Dewey Beach in Delaware. Although weather had called for storms, we escaped the weekend with a few drops of rain, one hand-war with the ac unit, very little sleep, and stories that will go down with laughter for years to come.

I'd never been to Dewey, but I liked the quaintness. It has a lot of the same amenities and attractions as its counterparts (Ocean City, Virginia Beach)...but, there were fewer people, no boardwalk, and space to hide if you wanted to. We were right near the beach so the 2 minute walk RULED. You can't really do that in a bigger beach scene. There was enough soft sand for people to lay comfortably and we got to see a rather large group/family/pod of dolphins right off the shore. That was totally worth it.

And it makes me have to point out one not-so-tiny AMEN to the land of beach fashion: the board short. God was having a good day when He decided to create the many prints of the board short. It wins hands down over it's rival, the Speedo. You really can't go wrong with a board short...even old-man obnoxious flowers work well in comparison to the banana hammock. It leaves just enough to the imagination, yet accentuates on many a man some areas that deserve a little shout-out. So, to you God, I say THANK YOU for the board short. =) And thank you for accessible distribution as to make the Speedo a no-go for most men.

And who does a tall girl have to kill to get a towel that is long enough for the beach? Eh? What does Shaquille O'Neal or Yao Ming use? Can I get a witness for the sandy shins??

Note to self: Never underestimate the attractiveness of Jeep-blown, alcohol-soaked, chlorinated, salted, sandy, humidified, sunscreened hair. No really, it looked good. =P

The Best Buy?

2007-07-18T09:32:00.000-04:00

Today's topic came to me with yesterday's unexpected burial of my tv. My poor tv exploded (smoke and all), which caused an impromptu Best Buy run for a newer, better version of my tube. After standing in the tv section for 20 minutes without a single probing worker hovering around me, it made me wonder...how do the workers know who to annoy?

Usually when I go to Best Buy (or any other store for that matter) without the intent to buy, I can't keep the store workers away from me. But yesterday, I walked into the store with the intent of spending a fair amount of moolah, and I couldn't buy a worker. They weren't anywhere in sight. And the kicker is that I was sniffing around the heavy artillery (the plasma/LCD tv section) where the big guns go. Nobody in sight. I even searched around the section of the store to find a worker lurking in the shadows. No one there. I could have been standing there naked and nobody would have known.

Why is that? Why is it that when you don't want help, they're annoyingly willing to help you? "What can I help you find today?" "Do you need to try that on?" "What size do you wear?" "Would you like to open one of our ridiculously high APR credit cards and save $2 today?"

Yet, when you actually NEED the help, they're MIA? Oh wait...that would require work. Dangit.

Note to self: Flat screens rule. Dukes of Hazzard still rocks. Bo Duke on a flat screen with great company=priceless.

But seriously...

2007-07-16T23:59:00.000-04:00

Rough day today. I find myself questioning AGAIN why I'm a teacher. (But Turner, you're not in school now. How is it possible that you're questioning that AGAIN??) Well, after attending my second funeral of a student and noting that I've lost 5 in 5 years, it makes me wonder.

It makes me wonder a lot of things.

To me, there are few things that feel worse than hopelessness. Hopelessness loomed in the chapel today as we heard the eulogy of a 16 year old girl with a bright future ahead. Although I didn't know her that well, it was time for reflection on the others lost. I felt hopeless against the "invincible" teenaged thought process, the drug issues, the "it will never happen to me" syndrome. Is it possible to do this job and not feel hopeless? Is it possible to do this job and not invest and care in them (even the "challenging" ones)? Is it possible to go a year without losing another one?

Then the second notion hits: fear. I don't like to be afraid. I try not to be. What is there to fear? I fear feeling hopeless. I fear feeling the loss of a loved one. I fear that I could have done something to prevent some of these losses.

And I know that it's irrational, but is it possible to teach/coach these kids and not have that fear?

Note to self: People who cut in funeral processions should have to do grounds keeping in the cemetaries.

2007-07-10T19:04:00.000-04:00

Can anyone tell me why my blog won't let me title anymore?

SO, today was day 2 of Turner's volleyball camp. I'm exhausted, but the 34 campers rule! This camp is the 7-9 graders...and I like the mix of half experienced, half no clue kids. They make me laugh, especially with the "sumos" in warm-ups. There is something particularly hilarious about them squatting to the floor and screaming "oootttaaaahhh."

The best news is that I have 3 boys amidst the sea of pre-pubescent estrogen. I can't stress how STOKED I am to have the boys. I have the grassroots of a men's team starting. The 3 are actually pretty athletically inclined and seem to enjoy volleyball...so I'm jumping all over them, gently persuading them on WHY they should continue to play volleyball... Stay tuned while I work my magic.

The unfortunate thing is that I'm supposed to have 4 former players helping me. Today, I had 2. Not cool. How did volleyball players get so unreliable?? Hmmm.

Note to self: Nothing tops a day better than double stuff peanut butter Oreos...

2007-07-07T06:12:00.000-04:00

Happy Birthday McC!! Tonight's 7/7/7 at 7 party should rule!

So Billy, Jen, McC and I saw "The Jokers" play last night at Quig's house. It's a new band based out of The Beach and they were playing a tune-up gig out of the garage of a fellow cowoker. I've taught Z.Bob and T.V....and couldn't help but feel instantly transported back to the high school days of yore. Watching the local band play at somebody's house, parents around, other kids there but not really paying attention. Totally retro. They did a half-way decent job...especially since Z.Bob is not a singer (nor does he pretend to be), yet he is the front man in this band. He's come a long way since our Chilli Pepper renditions in Broadcasting. =)

So, other than the mass amounts of bug bites, last night was a trip down memory lane and fun. But it was hard not to feel like "that teacher" even though there were plenty of other adults around.

Note to self: Keep a can of Off in the car.

More than meets the eye.

2007-07-04T14:59:00.001-04:00

DUDE.

You have to see Transformers. It is AWESOME. I went with Adam, Christie, and Josh today and we were not disappointed. I was instantly taken back to the days of yore when the biggest concern of the day was who's house we were going to play Nintendo at, what Barbies we should bring, and wearing the right shorts as to not get burned on the big slide.

Ah, memories.

AND they had the original Optimus Prime voice. Does life get any better? I submit that it cannot.

Note to self: Popcorn cures all.

I left my heart in Greece.

2007-07-02T19:39:00.000-04:00

Greece is simply amazing. Gorgeous. Awesome. Unbelievable. Amazing.

Team Currier just got back into the States today...and I am suffering from a severe case of Greek haze. I've been up since 3:30 am Athens time and it is technically the same time in Athens as I type right now...so I am the poster child of tired...and still in LOVE with Greece and all associated memories. =)

It was an unreal 2 weeks of disconnected-from-real-life bliss complete with sides of scenic views, white buildings, beautiful sunsets, and black-sand beaches. I wasn't a huge fan of Athens; Paros and Santorini were the best of the islands. In many ways it's good to be home...flushing tp, drinking from the tap, enjoying the deodorant-scented people, choosing clothes from my closet and not a suitcase. BUT, I have never NOT wanted to leave a place so much in my entire life.

There will be many more posts to come from this life-altering experience...

Note to self: Marble is slippery. Cacti are sharp. Crabs aren't worth it. Scooters suck. But we LOVE the Greek medical system!

Turner Driving School, Day 2.

2007-06-05T18:42:00.000-04:00

Welcome to Day 2 of the Turner Driving School. Day 1 involved the imperative lessons on driving in the snow and ice. Today, we'll discuss the "school area" speed limits.

Just to make sure we're all on the same page, a "school area" is designated by the speed limit sign with the yellow flashing lights that will illuminate when it is time to drive the slower speed because of beginning/ending times of the school day.

Need I repeat YELLOW FLASHING LIGHTS. That's right everyone; the LIGHTS WILL FLASH when it is necessary to drive the 25 or 35 mph speed limit to ensure the safety of the angels beginning or ending their day at school. If lights are not flashing, then the normal speed limit applies to this area.

Is this hard to understand?? No. If you are confused, please give me your KEYS because you don't deserve your suped-Civic with NOS anyway.

Note to self: T minus 2 days 'til I'm DONE "teaching" my students. Can I get a witness?

Grad-u-ate-shun.

2007-06-04T22:02:00.000-04:00

Last week was quite the whirlwind of pre, during, and post graduation activities. Here's the hit list...of Project Grad which I FINALLY got to chaperone. Here's what I learned.

1. Gotta love the 1.5 hour nap from 8:30 pm til 10 pm. I woke up completely disoriented...and craving breakfast and coffee. Thank goodness for Sams making a pot of Folgers...with chocolate syrup.

2. I got the "enthusiastic" bus. Bus #5 full of all the kids who thought that singing all the way up to DC was a grrrrrrrrrrrrrreat idea. The best part was that they started the kareoke fest with Ginuine's "Pony," a song that surely was not out when they were born. Nothing like off-key singing of various hip-hop and go-go hits at 11:30 pm.

3. Then some dumb ass lit a cigarette on the bus. When I stood up to search, I could see the whites in their dark little eyes and could hear a pin drop (thank goodness they stopped singing). What kind of retard thinks I wouldn't smell that??

4. The boat ride up and down the Potomac was fine. Great weather. Perfect for sitting outside on the deck and admiring the sights of Virginia and DC. Also a fabulous place to escape the "CC" representin going on the dance floor.

5. On the way back, my "enthusiastic" bus #5 believed that playing "Yo Momma" all the way (mind you it is about 3 am) was the most fabulous way to end this magical evening.

6. The only thing that interrupted the stupendous Yo Momma game was their keen idea of hanging out the bus and yelling at the police drug bust in progress. Seriously. This is what happens when idiotic "hick rats" are taken out of their little safe haven and placed in an area where real crimes happen. They do something dumb. I'm still shocked that the police didn't chase us down in our big cheese bus.

7. 4 am arrives and sees us back at the school for breakfast. I don't remember much from this period of time due to my exhaustion. But when I woke up at 11:30 am on Friday I was the happiest person alive since I WASN'T AT SCHOOL!!

Note to self: Never, EVER, be a senior class sponsor again. Project Grad really isn't worth the pain in the patootie.

Yes, they're real.

2007-05-10T19:50:00.000-04:00

There. All you nay-sayers. We do exist. And it's not like we're wearing obnoxiously bright yellow shirts that have "PLAY KICKBALL" plastered on the back. It's not like we have a clever name (Moby Kick) or anything. It's not like we think we're cool.

We play kickball. We play with a red, bouncy ball which is a direct shout-out to all the elementary PE teachers. We play on The Mall in DC (notice the Washington Monument in the left corner).

PS: We haven't won a single kickball game. I'm sure you can't tell by this picture. It hides our athleticism and cat-like speed.

Bonus points are earned for all CCPS employees named.

DifferenceMaker

2007-05-09T22:00:00.000-04:00

This is Teacher Appreciation Week. Shout it from the rooftops!

Yeah. RIGHT.

We had a fabulous luau-themed lunch from the PTSA yesterday. No really. It was FABULOUS. Today we got memo paper with our names on it and little keychain flashlights from the union. But the icing on the cake was the "emergency" staff meeting...with the grand finale of the student-produced video of pictures of various staff members with voice-over commentary. The commentary said things like, "Because of you, I know how to do Algebra" or "Because of you, I know the scientific method."

I couldn't help but laugh.

Of course, that was after our special teacher pin gifts. They are dime-sized apple pins with the word DifferenceMaker written in "gold" across the center.

Is it wrong if the first thing I think is that difference maker is a TWO WORD adjective phrase? And the second thing I think is how excited are the students about learning algebra and the scientific method? Are those differencemaker subjects??

Note to self: 20 more instruction days 'til I'm free.

Last day of HER.

2007-05-07T20:50:00.000-04:00

Tis a day for celebration.

I have finished my last grad class with VK...and it is a HUGE relief. No more pointless assignments that she doesn't even read. No more tallies and bet pools of how often she says "everyone." No more handouts...ps...I wonder if she even realizes how many trees she could save by not copying everything under the sun from 1979. No more CUTTING ME OFF!! Yessssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss.

Note to self: Put a Tide pen in the car...cafe mochas are unforgiving.

Crabfeast and Hot Fuzz.

2007-05-06T19:42:00.000-04:00

What a weekend! I guess I can't expect any less when I get to reunite with Marisa and my surrogate brotha.

It all started with the Quatro de Mayo celebracion with brotha's work peeps. Nothing like burning tequila and a spitting 23-year-old Archaelogy grad assistant to get the weekend off right. Oh wait, I think Critter's hubcap margarita was better ON FILM. =)

The crabfeast on Saturday was great...if you don't count the freezing cold, overcast weather. I don't know what could be more entertaining than fitting 30 some cases of beer in the back of the Jeep with 30 some bags of ice...twice! Nevermind the flip cup and pop bottle assaults to boot.

Then onto the Cinco de Mayo fiesta at la casa de Adam/JB/Dan etc. Massive props to JB for letting me use one of his sweatshirts...and all of the reminiscing about the hot tub from the Outer Banks. I love lamp.

Marisa, Erica, and I saw "Hot Fuzz" today and it was fun-neeeeeeee. A must see by all "Shawn of the Dead" fans.

Note to self: Never underestimate how much flip cup the future business leaders of America really want to play OR how much beer pong boys will play.

Moby Kicked.

2007-04-22T14:56:00.000-04:00

I had my debut as an adult kickball player yesterday. Let me set the scene:

Time: 1:30 & 2:15 pm
Place: Washington DC National Mall, between the Washinton and WWII Monuments
Weather: A beautiful 70-something degree, sunny, blue-sky day

Result: 0-2, with the second loss coming much more smoothly than the bloodbath of the 5th inning in game one.

Overall it was a lot of fun. Team Moby Kick in the yellow shirts are definitely not there to win the kickball championship...but we will have good times in the beautiful weather. And heck, we may win the flip-cup tournament. It is just like elementary school playground kickball...except that we are all out of college and there are real rules that we must follow (some are more sticklers for those rules than others).

One of the highlights of the afternoon were the alternate team names we came up with for next season (which may not be suitable for younger readers):
-Ball Burn (as sustained by Jeff on his miraculous chin catch)
-We're here for Flip Cup or simply Team Flip Cup
-Last ones picked
-Gym Class Rejects

Note to self: Learn how to kick with your FOOT. Find way to cover lower shin bruise before the prom next week.

Are you serious?

2007-04-16T20:44:00.000-04:00

I am shocked and completely dismayed at the news coming from Virginia Tech today. It is almost unreal. The news keeps showing shots of about 30 ambulances lined up on a road on the campus and sobering shots of students in fright.

As an educator, this is a nightmare beyond nightmares. Before today, school shootings had sort of died off from the popularity in previous years (I can remember 5 shooting/bomb threat drills during my first month of student teaching 5 years ago). But now, I fear the carry-over into our high schools...or spread to other college campuses.

I don't want to know about this story, but at the same time, I'm strangely drawn to it in confusion of motive. What could drive someone to do this? It appears to be carefully calculated, the classroom carefully chosen since it was an enclosed environment. Previous campus shootings were done outdoors, randomly, and by madmen atop clock towers. Augh. I can only hope that there aren't any ties to our families in Calvert. We have many students who have attended this school, and were there today...

Note to self: Loan my bullet proof bracelets and lasso of truth to the Virginia Tech police. Perhaps a ride in the invisible jet will help.

Follying is Fun!

2007-04-02T09:04:00.000-04:00

So the end of the March of death came with an extra special send-off: the 2nd Annual Faculty Follies show.

For those that are unfamiliar (which I think is 1 of the 2 people who actually read this blog), Faculty Follies is a HHS staff-produced variety show used as a fundraiser for the school newspaper. It is meant to be FUNNY (hence the use of Follies in the title) and by no means a talent show.

We had a good crowd and a good selection of skits for this year...and for once, no major technical difficulties...unless you count the few times the students forgot to give us mics.

Brian and I KILLED with our opening act, Weekend Update. Although we shouldn't leave our professions and hop on the stand-up circuit, we got some good laughs (and a little soothing to our frightened comedic egos). Overall, we all did an awesome array of skits...from HHS Cribs, to Wild 'n Out, to showcasing our amazing Step skills. It was a fabulous way to end this horrific month and get a week off for Spring Break!

The parentals are flying in today for an early Easter celebration...so I'm sure there will be posts to follow our adventures.

Note to self: Not that anyone is counting, but we have 40-ish days with students left. Please hold all applause until the end...

TIREd.

2007-03-22T16:33:00.000-04:00

First: Who knew how important tires are? Wait. That sounds stupid. Let me try again. Who knew how much tires really impact the ride of the car? I just invested (and I do mean INVESTED) in new tires for Anna and WHOA NELLY! She doesn't squeal, shake, wobble, spin, hydro-plane, or make so much noise anymore. I had no idea that those issues were all tire-related. I feel like a bad mom for not taking her in for new tires sooner...since I was scolded by the tire-dude for not buying them 25000 miles earlier.

At least I can play the girl card there.

Second: What about March makes us teachers so exhausted? Is it that there aren't any breaks of student contact? Is it that it is almost the end of the year, but not quite? Is it the weather change? I'm not sure if it is one or a combination of these things, but DUDE. I'm totally shelacked with work and no time/energy to complete it! Ick.

Note to self: Beware the Ides of The Htown Steppers...

Yin Yang?

2007-03-12T21:03:00.000-04:00

First: massive props to R. Monroe for the token of Old Bay affection. I so can't wait to Garlic and Herb my chicken. =) You RULE!

Second: today's topic.

Contradictions. They can walk, they can talk. Are they necessary? Some might say that without contradictions, there'd be no opposites and that'd throw off the balance of the world. I say they are full of crap and OBVIOUSLY haven't worked in the field of education.

We educators get used to contradictions like "Get your students to produce higher test scores...but we're going to cut your funding and lessen your resources." But what drives me even more crazy is when educators create/force contradictions on each other without realizing it.

See what you think of this one:
Professor V shares her interview story. She tells of how the superintendent was impressed that she had a portfolio since he'd never heard or seen of such a thing before. Professor V then assigns the class to create professional portfolios.

Ummm...if you only had ONE person ask to look at your portfolio only out of CURIOSITY, then WHY are you making us do them? (And I feel it's necessary to add that I had to do one in order to graduate from undergrad...I took it with me on all interviews and job fairs and because so many people never asked to see it I found myself FORCING it on others to validate all of the work I put into it.)

OR how 'bout this one:
Professor V says you should put test scores in your portfolios. Not student scores, but YOUR scores from the Praxis exams (teacher certification tests). Then, in the same breath, she says that the only thing that employers look for in the test is a passing score, not necessarily the level of achievement.

Ummm...why bother searching for your scores then? Wouldn't it be rhetorical that we passed since we're CERTIFIED TEACHERS?

Note to self: Get a Ph.D. OBVIOUSLY common sense is not necessary to complete the degree process.

Old Bay revisited...

2007-03-07T16:03:00.000-05:00

Perhaps the addiction is the packaging.

The yellow and red can has an appeal that is unparalleled in the land of spice. Most spices come in bags or round plastic containers that are undistinguishable. Not to metion the multiple spouts at the top to accommodate your taste of a sprinkling of the yummies OR a spoonful of zest. One can walk down the spice aisle and see that yellow can set itself apart from its inferior spice companions.

The Bay stands alone.

Note to self: See what is that largest size of Old Bay available. R. Monroe says it comes in gallon form...check the local Safeway or Giant to see who has the biggest Old Bay.

Old Spice? NO! Old Bay!

2007-03-06T20:51:00.000-05:00

There is a culture here on the East Coast that is unmistakeable. Fast-paced life, seafood, and Old Bay. Anyone who has visited the East Coast has had a dish that was seasoned with the most versatile spice...and then has a hankering that permeates their own cuisine for the rest of time.

I remember my first taste of "The Bay." And then the desire for the spice made my dad make a separate container of "spiced ketchup." Then came the Old Bay eggs...and Old Bay chicken....Old Bay burgers. And so on and so on.

I bought young Vince a can of the Bay to take home to Chicago...and he apparently stores is on his tv tray for ease of access. Vinney had an Old Bay meal the other day were each dish was seasoned with The Bay....and is constantly telling me how much stuff he has eaten that he put the Old Bay on it. I'm sure his cereal is next.

Why is it so addicting? Why do we crave the Old Bay chips or Old Bay shrimp? But never crave Allspice Chicken or Ground Coriander Steak? What is in the Old Bay?

I've got one guess: crack.

The Fame Game.

2007-02-27T19:49:00.000-05:00

Ok, so I've just spent the last 30 minutes discovering a new online toy: www.myheritage.com

The obsession begins when you click on the celebrity look-alikes link and a prompt comes to scan your photo in. The "scanner" will "read" your picture, then provide you with 10 celebrity look-alike photos. The program will tell you what percentage your photo matches the celebrity.

It is really an interesting concept...and some of the matches are amazing. I never realized how much Amanda Bines and I look alike. Another hit I got a few times was Laura Linney and the flute girl from "American Pie."

BUT. Do I really look like Lisa Ling? Lance Bass? David Schwimmer? And better yet, how do I go from looking similar to an Asian woman to a gay blonde man within the same picture? Hmmm.

And here's the funny part. I scanned a picture that had a former boyfriend in it...and the first matches at 80% for the two of us: Lance Bass (me) and Magic Johnson (him). Ummmm. Could that be a sign of why the relationship didn't work?

Note to self: Find the freaks who are STILL watching American Idol and isolate them from the herd, thus leading them to a Darwinian "death." Let's rid our tvland of reality tv!

Are you from around here?

2007-02-26T18:24:00.000-05:00

If there is one thing that separates city mice from country mice it would be the mastery of the mass transit system. Does it take a trained eye to tell the difference between a "local" and a "tourist?" No. Here's why.

1. Tourists display MTA...mass transit anxiety. It can take a number of forms, but is most commonly displayed in these ways:

The look of terror at the realization that one has gone the wrong way on the Metro.
The fidgeting and constant checking of the map on the side of the car/bus...as if they missed their stop between the last time the doors opened and the current moment.
Those who get picked from the herd as the Darwinian doors of the Metro close and they don't fight through.
Those who resemble the nerdy kid who is searching for a seat on the school bus as there are no available seats...and the thought of being the ONE person standing is too much humiliation for one ego to take.
Why do they hate standing? Because these tourists don't have "Metro legs" aka know how to position/brace themselves so they don't trip/fall/stumble when the Metro starts/stops.
Statue syndrome. These idiots get on/off the car and just stand there as if their will to walk has ceased to exist. Perhaps prior experience of going the wrong way has scarred them for life.
The cringe of disgust when a complete stranger sits next to them...or tries to talk to them. It gets even more severe when said stranger smells and tourists are not used to smelly transportation.

2. Locals heckle the tourists. These meanies will stare and laugh, point and laugh, scream and swear, push and shove, etc. Why do they heckle? Because it was done to them...they feel the need to keep the tradition alive since they too were the subjects of public humiliation when their dollar bills wouldn't go into the bus meter.

3. Locals also know "the rules" of traveling...aka...what you can and can't bring on the Metro with you. More importantly, the locals know what they SHOULD or SHOULDN'T bring. Tourists are the freaks trying to carry 8 bags and luggage during the morning commute.

4. Locals don't laugh at the colorful characters who are regular riders of public transportation.

5. Locals sleep and read on the Metro. Tourists are too stressed out to relax and do anything other than focus 100% of their attention on getting off at the right stop.

AND THE MOST IMPORTANT ONE: if anyone in a security uniform asks you, "are you from around here," the locals KNOW to answer NO since they have obviously broken a law of some form. Right McC? =)

NOTE TO SELF: Practice acting like a local...or the therapy is going to get too expensive.

Hump Day...with a special kick.

2007-02-15T17:55:00.000-05:00

SO yesterday was a helluva good time. (insert sarcasm here) Let me 'splain.

A) It was the most dreaded of all Hallmark Holidays, which my friends and I have aptly renamed "Single and Celebrating" Day. Instead of molling around and feeling like poo because a few of us do not have a significant other to tell us how rad we are with some fattening (yet tasty) chocolates, we did it ourselves! We gathered at Mitchell's casa for some awesomely bad-for-you food and watched "Little Miss Sunshine." Good times had by all SACers.

2) Oh, and did I mention it was a snow day? So, good eats, good times, NO STUDENTS. Sometimes it's just too good to be true.

D) Oh yeah...it WAS too good to be true. Did I mention that we didn't have school due to the .5-1" of ICE we had the pleasure of receiving overnight? Did I mention that Mitchell was the only one of us with POWER (aka HEAT), so it was only natural that we meet at her crib? Not to mention the complete RETARDS that drive on such perfectly dry roads slowly and STOP when the ice is falling like gigantic hunks of hail from the trees, thus allowing more gigantic missile-like ice darts to pierce the sanctity of your vehicle whilst trying to escape the frigid cold of your power-less house! But I digress...

Note to self: Sometimes making lemonade out of life's lemons would be easier WITH AN ELECTRIC JUICER!

A pot of Gold's.

2007-02-11T12:58:00.000-05:00

The gym is a place wrought with intriguing observations about people. And the gym which I attend is no stranger to the mysterious behavior that is displayed as people get their sweat on.

1. "Street-clothes" guy. This is an individual which apparently doesn't realize that there is a multi-million dollar industry that is devoted to workout wear. This person sweats, runs, and lifts in his street clothes. I'm talking jeans, heavy fabric shorts, IZOD tops, etc. How?!?!?! Why?!?!!? As said individual peels himself off the bike, sweat dripping from his face, it makes me want to smack him with my Nike Dri-Fit towel! I wonder if he knows that he can go to Target, invest $10 in some mesh shorts and a t-shirt in order to be more comfortable. Idiot.

2. "Smelly" guy, deodarant-deficient type. This dude is the one that is obviously a member of the "I don't need it" clan. OH YES YOU DO. The air that I breathe when running needs not to REEK of your nasty B.O. The best part is this guy always appears at the treadmill/machine/stretching mat next to me. Yesssssssssss. How can he not smell himself? Should it be a law that you reapply deodarant prior to leaving the lockerroom?? I'd hate to be the one that has to wash his yellow-pitted polo shirts.

3. "Smelly" guy, gas-x type. Oye. I understand that some people have issues when it comes to gas and gastrointestinal distress. I happen to be someone who suffers from gastrointestinal distress. BUT, I DON'T STINK UP THE GYM WITH FART SMELL. Goodness gracious. The gym has 2 sets of bathrooms to remedy the problem, use one...PLEASE. And once again, this guy ends up at the treadmill/machine/stretching mat next to me. And I know what you're thinking, just breathe through your mouth. Umm, then I can taste it too. Iew.

Note to self: Bring a can of air freshner and see if Oust really does work.

Girls just wanna have fun?

2007-02-10T16:59:00.000-05:00

We celebrated Amandahanukkah last night in Federal Hill. Good times were had by most (I spilled half a glass of red wine all over my pants). I found an intriguing way to measure girliness as time passed with the posse of Amanda fans... Here's the hitlist:

1. Our "party favors." These were favors indeed in the form of a blinking plastic heart ring. We are beginning a tradition where anytime we all get together, at least one of us must be blinking. LESSON: I have abnormally large fingers = less girly...everyone but me could fit said ring on right hand ring finger. I was the pimp with the pinky ring. But trust me, I rocked it right.

2. Happy Hour at Nacho Mamas. The scene of the diss: "I didn't peg you as a picky eater." AND the discussion of "When a guy says to me, 'nice ass,' I know it's time to lose weight." LESSON: Girly girls like to point out "negative" things about others in order to make her feel more worthy. Don't worry M...Karma is making it's rounds.

3. Dinnertime discussion....and perhaps the scene of the largest girliness meter. How devasting is the news that Liz Clairborne has taken over Kate Spade? NOW, if you even know that these two things are actually companies, you are in fact female. LESSON: However, if this news is the central aspect of conversation for at least 25 minutes, and you continually believe that is the worst thing in the world during those 25 minutes, you are indeed a girly girl.

4. Dinnertime discussion...part 2. What is everyone wearing? Shirt colors, styles, and how similar everyone is is a key element to girliness. LESSON: If one girl is an "outlier," she must be plucked from the herd.

5. Dinnertime discussion...part 3. How can you tell if a Coach purse if fake? Should Target sell expensive jeans and/or Coach purses? This is how Darwin's natural selection process begins. LESSON: Since I prefer cost-effective accessories, I will never be a girly-girl. I don't care if it is real or fake...is it cute? pretty? large enough to hold my wallet, cell phone, and other important items needed on a regular basis?

6. Makeup reapplication. After drinks and dinner, it is appropriate to reapply lip products. Which lip product is used? This is the measure of girliness. LESSON: Lip gloss = understated flirtation/chic. Lip stick with mirror and lip gloss = umm, girly girl?

Note to self: Although I thought I was becoming more girly, it is VERY clear to me that I am still a tomboy in disguise. But at least I have a cool blinking heart ring. =) PS: club soda is AWESOME.

S.A.D.

2007-02-03T21:48:00.000-05:00

One has to love the amount of acronyms we have in our lexicon today. We are always looking for shorcuts, nicknames, and the like to make our language faster and easier. Need I reference our insane obsession with short names (J.Lo, Diddy) or how many different acronyms we could list in 10 seconds that we use in our daily lives...

But there is a newer one introduced to me via a contest from a local radio station. S.A.D...Singles Awareness Day. Let me 'splain.

S.A.D. is the more common celebration of February 14th...the one and only, most repulsive of all Hallmark Holidays, and the bain of many people's existence. I'm not and never have been a fan of 2/14...but do we need to call single people "sad?" Are single people sad as in boo-hoo or sad as in pathetic?

Being a singleton myself, I'm not sure "sad" is an appropriate term to describe my state of mind or being. I happen to think I've been better off than the handful of times I've messed with actually celebrating the date in the way in which Hallmark had intended.

Or is this a scam from Hallmark to make more sales by offering a line of "sad" cards? Hmmm...any ideas on creative messages for those pathetic singles out there?

Note to self: make plans with single pals for appropriate hate-fest of St. Valentine.

A Flury of Prayers.

2007-02-01T16:01:00.000-05:00

It has happened again.

A few shards of white fell from the sky today and all of Maryland has gone straight into a snow-freak-out frenzy. After school activities were cancelled. Students and teachers alike are speaking volumes about no school probability and how much/little snow/ice we're supposed to get.

All I can say is GET A GRIP! Are you serious? If one were to look outside at this very moment, it is simply cloudy and cold. It's not even raining. Just because some weather guy said it MIGHT snow does not mean it actually will snow.

Oh, and PS, snow accumulation actually means that...ACCUMULATION. There should be evidence of said snow to warrant cancellations, delays, and frenzies. Not the thought of snow.

Think of what life would be like if we freaked out simply at the thought of things happening.

Oh wait, they did that in Boston yesterday. My bad.

Note to self: Start rumors of a mudslide occuring on Friday...cuz if it doesn't snow, I'm having one!! =)

We NEED another hero.

2007-01-25T19:43:00.000-05:00

I played the best video game ever recently. Prior to this life-altering experience, I was partial to old-school games such as the original Super Mario Brothers (which remains the only game I've ever beaten) and Pong. I love the classic graphics, simplified controllers, and the basicness of the older games.

That is until I was forced to play Guitar Hero. And now I have a new addiction.

Against my will, at friend Vince's crib, the guitar controller was shoved into my feeble, uncoordinated hands and the next thing I knew, I was playing the opening guitar riff of Joan Jett's, "I Love Rock n Roll." This game is amazing. It is an extremely accurate experience of playing guitar. Left hand vs right hand playing responsiblities using a guitar-shaped controller create the feeling that one is actually a rocker...and you get to choose your rocker icon AND GUITAR to watch on the screen. The notes fly at your face on frets and as you hit the notes, the guitar part is played. And as I discovered, when you don't hit the notes, bleeps and bloops fill in for the missed riffs in the song track.

Now, all I can think of is who owns a Playstation 2 and has this game. I can't get the stupid songs out of my head and have become keenly aware of this strange desire to play a freaking video game.

Note to self: I am not allowed under any circumstances to purchase a Playstation 2. If so, I will never see the light of day again...but I will ROCK.

Frankie and the Drain.

2007-01-22T18:17:00.000-05:00

Yeah I know it's been awhile. Shut it.

So, I've been to Chicago twice in the past month to visit sweet Baby Sister...and one thing that stands out as blog-worthy: her roommate's cat, Frank.

Frank appears to be a "normal" cat. He's probably about a year old, black back, white belly, and curiosity is definitely his middle name. BUT, the thing that makes Frank hilarious is his interest-nay, obsession-with drains. I have never seen a cat SO obsessed with drains before. Most of the time, cats are intrigued with the drip...batting at the droplets of water in a game of wits with the faucet. But no, not Frankie. He also digs the swirling of the drain.

During both stays, I don't remember a single time of using the bathroom facilities (including showering) alone. In fact, I'd bet that Frankie won EVERY RACE to the bathroom since he was there, waiting on the sink next to the toilet, to find out why I was there. Washing? Potty? Shower? Any choice is a good one to this freak-show. Frankie wants to see the water and the drain. He wants in on the "bathroom fun." He even hopped in the shower (seemingly by accident) once because he leaned so far over to watch the drain, that he slid in. Unlike normal animals who detest bathing, Frankie simply stood, feet spread apart, and stuck his nose down the drain. Again, NOT NORMAL.

I guess I can't really do Frankie justice without a picture...so maybe one will follow at some point...but seriously. Drains are in...spread the word.

Note to self: I love to hate the snow when traveling. I love to hate Peyton Manning and his freaking Colts. I love to hate how far my Baby Sister lives from me...sniff sniff.

Where's the winter wonderland?

2006-12-27T12:01:00.000-05:00

So I have been in the north now for a week. AND WHERE IS THE WINTER? It is supposed to be freezing cold, snowy, slushy, icy, and MISERABLE. That's why I visit here. I get in touch with my northern eskimo-esque roots and "love" the weather for the week or so I'm here and return to the coolness of the coast.

It has tried to flake once. It has been 40 degrees. And the sun has been out. WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?

It is a tragedy of the utmost proportions. Michigan is supposed to be cloudy, gray, and crappy. It has been the opposite, thus throwing off my chi.

Other than the messed up "winter," it has been nice to chill (no pun intended) with the fam and enjoy the holiday season. I don't miss the trashiness of Flinttown inhabitants. I do enjoy hearing the Canadian pirate accents. Shiver me timbers is coming back, just in case you didn't know.

Note to self: There is NOTHING better than sitting on your hind-parts all day while eating and watching movies.

Taste the Rainbow.

2006-12-20T23:12:00.000-05:00

I was at the salon getting my hair did today and I couldn't help but overhear the two receptionist women conversing about their most recent vacations. The brunette was sharing info about her roadtrip (I'm not sure where they were in the US). She mentioned that she and her hubby were driving along and saw a rainbow, then their car shook violently and unexpectedly. She explains further that she and her husband had driven to the end of the rainbow and the electrical fields at the end of the rainbow shook her car.

Whoa whoa whoa...wait. Electrical fields? Apparently she missed the day in 2nd grade where one learns about what makes a rainbow. Perhaps she's never read the best story ever, The Rainbow Goblins, where you learn about where rainbows come from hypothetically. Or maybe she's never eaten Lucky Charms or seen a Skittles commercial!! Are you serious?

Maybe these electrical fields are next to the raisin fields that Billy's students reference in their work.

Note to self: Hot tubs are necessary after a week like this.

Capital Punishment.

2006-12-12T20:04:00.000-05:00

Here are some nuggets of wisdom from the stupendous fans at the Caps vs Penguins game from yesterday:

"You can't win if you're down 4-1." Obviously this Captain Obvious found his information from the "No sh*t Sherlock" file. I feel that this doesn't even warrant a comment.
"They need to score!" Really? That's the problem? Why don't you march down the 400 stairs and let the coach know. That'll solve it.
It's very VERY important to substitute the opposing team's info into home team cheers. For example, c-a-p-s becomes p-e-n-s...otherwise your street cred is shot. The MORE cheers you're able to sabotage, it becomes "easier" for your team to win.

Note to self: Give someone a "security" uniform and they'll become the Great Wall of China if you're trying to get to your seat. Fingerprints, retinal scan, and blood-typing are possible substitutes for your ticket.

Brookstone and WeedHead

2006-12-10T19:02:00.000-05:00

AKA another day of holiday shopping with the girls. Here are some observations from a day of hilarity with said chicas:

Has anyone been to Brookstone lately? They are apparently now in the sex toy business by way of a core workout machine. This machine is on display in the front of the store and is a fan favorite of passers-by. The machine rivals a mechanical bull...and creates these responses from my friends: I want it to go faster! It really does work my abs. You've GOTTA try this thing. (insert porn-esque facial expressions here)
I also find it disturbing how or why parents would allow their CHILDREN on this machine, especially the little girls. And who could forget the birthday girl who kept pushing her friends away to get "another ride."
Beverage of the day: Pomegranate Juice Blend. Just ask Mitchell, who CHANGED HER ORDER at Starbucks. I have to admit, I didn't know they allowed anyone to change their order once you've passed the "order here" sign.
Best buy of the day: Tshirts at the Gap for $1.97. It's so retro to have prices throwback like Walmart but with Gap "quality."
Did you know that Yin Yankee (the supreme sushi restaurant) has forks? I didn't since they're never on the table and the waitstaff never offer them. Except to Mitchell tonight. She can't use her chopsticks, despite several tutorial sessions pre-calamari with me...and we were joking about how she should bring a fork. Then the waiter brought her a fork and I think I hit Sara with a projectile piece of rice from laughing at her.
Post-dinner we HAD to top it all off with my two favorite men: Ben & Jerry. We make our way toward the glassed-in area of the shop to look at our choices when Mitchell sees that there are also some very phallic, chocolate-covered frozen bananas. Of course, this channels us back to the Brookstone moment from earlier and we laugh loudly, causing an immature scene at the previously quiet ice cream shop.
Casey called herself a "weedhead"...you can only imagine what she was trying to say.

Note to self: What is it with people who take forever to put their money back into their wallets post-purchase? Shove it in there and fix it later you anal-retentive freaks! Do they not realize how much they hold up the line?

Question...

2006-12-09T10:08:00.000-05:00

How do people get along without being able to drive?

I know some aren't allowed to drive due to medical reasons, but other than those few, how do the non-drivers live? I was without a vehicle (thanks Adam!) for 2 days and I thought I was gonna die. Well, perhaps that's a little extreme, but the lack of freedom and mobility was killer. No errand-running. No quick trips here and there. It was go-to-school and tagalong to wherever chauffer Bol needed to go.

In a big city, public transportation or good ol' fashioned walking can suffice when one is without a vehicle. In fact, I know some city mice that don't even own a car. But how do those in the suburbs or farm land do it? And NO, tractors don't count as transportation.

Needless to say, I'm happy to be back behind the wheel again...free to roam the interesting lands of the mall and downtown shops.

Note to self: I can't stand stupid people. Thanks for the 12%. How many more days 'til vaycay?

Guest appearances.

2006-12-01T22:02:00.000-05:00

The Bol and I went for a little Lebanese Taverna and hit up "For Your Consideration" tonight...the latest Christopher Guest mockumentary.

The movie is a behind-the-scenes look at a crazy group of actors making a movie whilst the buzz of Oscars makes its way around the set. It wasn't as good as "Best in Show," but was still good for a few laughs. Parker Posey is awesome and I love the air-head blonde. Bol and I returned home, sufficiently chilly from this crazy weather, to find that "The Princess Bride" is on tv! My all-time fave, which has Christopher Guest as the 6-fingered man. It makes me have a whole new appreciation for this comic genius.

And yes, I can still quote the ENTIRE movie without mistakes. And YES, I am proud to admit my nerdiness.

Note to self: "It smells like butter." Hmmm. Why isn't there butter-scented air freshener? Wouldn't that make people feel like they're in a theater? Or do people not enjoy the scent of a theater?

Observations...

2006-11-30T16:18:00.000-05:00

Here's just some bits of food for thought from this past week of hell.

What possesses people to wear sweatpants and holey t-shirts into a courtroom? Even further, what possesses said people to actually argue against the prosecution's charges? They're not helping themselves by stating their stressful jobs lead them to drink excessively and then drive home...not to mention their crimes not caught by the fashion police.
Why do people drive 25 mph during the morning commute on Rte. 2? Seriously, this morning, a car that shall remain nameless, slowed down from 45 to 25 mph (almost like s/he was going to turn) but then decided that 25 was the appropriate traveling speed. Needless to say, me and the 45 cars behind me BARELY made it to school in time.
Why do the fine souls randomly selected to sit next to you on airplanes NEVER have a clue as to when to stop talking? I'm all for witty banter, the exchanging of random information, and being "personable." But good lord! Recognize the signs of tiredness/naptime.
Is there really a need for obnoxious lighting displays for all the world to see? I'm all for lights and decor to celebrate the season...but if you wanna be tacky, be tacky INSIDE so only you and yours can deal with your tackiness. Don't make the rest of us wonder why you're mixing colored lights and white lights, why you have one strand that blinks, and why you think the 30 ft inflatable Frosty is neat.

Note to self: Why do I miss pie and mashed potatoes but NOT the turkey? Investigate thoroughly.

Deep Relief

2006-11-26T09:00:00.000-05:00

Lots has happened since the last post. Lemme sum up:

The Hurricane Volleyball team won its 3rd consecutive Regional Championship in fine style (not dropping a single game).
The Canes continued on to the State Finals, where we met our rivals Centennial for a rematch of last year's finals...but to our disappointment, we lost in 4 thrillingly close games. Hats off to the phenomenal season we had, losing our only match in the State Championship match.
The Lord is supposed to retire (although no formal announcement has been made, she has informally told Fe and me OVER AND OVER). Can I get a witness for that?
Turkey Day has come and gone...and oh, what a tribute to gluttony. I love coming home to find a whole pie just for me, more turkey and mashed potatoes than I can eat, and fam to chill with after the sleepies set in.
No required Black Friday shopping. Amen to that and ALL that entails.

Now it's the countdown 'til the Christmas holiday...and all the crap that has to happen before then. Oye. Midterms, shopping, and decorating...oh the stories to come!

Note to self: 3-1-1. You never really notice how many of your liquids are NOT in 3 oz or smaller containers. Don't worry. You know I live on the edge and managed to get a 3.3 oz moisturizer through security. Bring the pain!

Mickey's Last Supper.

2006-11-09T21:28:00.000-05:00

Our third roommate's tenure has come to a close. That's right. Bol and I kick some bootay when it comes to pest control.

We caught the mouse with our peanut butter sticky trap.

And I put Mickey in a paper bag and set him outside to die in nature.

So that makes me the man...even though we BOTH screamed like 5 year old girls yesterday as he scampered around our living room.

Note to self: Keep peanut butter on hand...but not on the floor.

Popcorn AND Curtain Calls.

2006-11-02T19:45:00.000-05:00

SO things have been 8 shades of hectic in Turnerland these days. Between coaching, teaching, and sponsoring, it has been a helluva time trying to maintain some sort of normal-esque social life. I did manage to help Casey to celebrate her birthday in total Adams-Morgan style, helped my team to an undefeated SMAC championship, carved a pumpkin with my bestest friends, and went on a date.

And yes, to answer your question, I AM WonderWoman.

And NO, there is no end in sight to the insanity.

Since I'm too exhausted to be funny, I'll just have to leave you with some notes-to-self.

the farther south into Calvert County you go, the longer the mullets become.
don't EVER eat at Moe's Southwestern Grill...your tummy will hate you for days.
never underestimate the power of a great dress.
Dancing with the Stars may possibly be the best non-thought-oriented show EVER.

A Great Day...

2006-10-15T15:08:00.000-04:00

for a white wedding!

Craig and Marisa are now officially The Savilles!! Yeah!! They had the most beautiful wedding in OC yesterday. From the sun setting during their nuptials to everyone in their formal wear, the day was perfect. Chilly, but perfect. I had the time of my life...and it looked like everyone felt the same. Good times had by all, great company, good food, a happy couple, and gorgeous weather. What more could you ask for?

Hats off to the Saville's and their awesome planning. You guys are amazing and I couldn't be happier for both of you. =) Thanks for allowing me to be a part of your special day.

Note to self: Remember that time can heal wounds...and sometimes people can surprise you in a good way.

Celebrate, Celebrate, Dance to the Music.

2006-10-08T18:32:00.000-04:00

Observation: Many people throw out some wicked 80s dance moves in celebration. Go ahead. Watch any tv show (particularly comedies) or movies or some of your friends and see what I mean. The cabbage patch is a fan-favorite...but the running man and roger rabbit are also popular.

Question: What did people do in celebration before the 80s?

Did they bust out the twist? the mashed potato? Did they "stay alive?" Seriously. What was the celebratory move of choice?

Note to self: 6 days 'til Marisa's wedding. 5 days 'til Homecoming Hell Week is over. And I still don't know what to wear for celebrity day. AUGH. (Go Seniors)

Memories...

2006-10-02T20:03:00.000-04:00

The only thing cuter than a little boy with curly blonde hair tightly gripping his mother's finger, trottin along at the mall is the t-shirt that he was wearing:

"What happens at Grandma's stays at Grandma's."

Not only did I giggle (and make other people look at me curiously at why I'm laughing at myself), but it made me think about all the good times and "secrets" that my grandparents made my sister and me keep on our sleepover nights.

all the pizza and candy we ate.
the movies we watched...mostly "Annie."
how late we stayed up...and how we'd run to get in bed at Gma Roger's house when we heard the garage door open...
bunny cookies.
bowling.
arcade games.

Ah, the olden days when life was simply about cartoons and sugar highs.

Note to self: We are at the half-way mark of volleyball season. We are half-way to our goals for the season. Can I get a witness?

The Apocalypse?

2006-09-27T20:03:00.000-04:00

So you know it's gonna be a bad day when:

a) Starbucks is CLOSED at 6 am?!?!?!? The workers standing outside the joint said their manager didn't show up...or something like that. I couldn't really make out what they were saying in my uncaffeinated state.

2) You hit every light on the way to work...and there's an accident that causes a massive rubber-necking back-up on Rt. 2. As if Rt. 2 isn't fun enough, add in the lights and the accident for a super fun time without caffeine.

d) But seriously, Starbucks was CLOSED. I just feel it's important enough to mention twice. How often does that happen? Batten down the hatches; the apocalypse is coming.

BUT, at least the day ended well with a sound 3-game win over Northern and the team looked amazing. So proud, so proud. And massive props to the awesome crowd!

Note to self: Soccer = democracy. Best words of the day. Who knew that the sport was also a form of government!! Leave no one behind. =)

The Devils went up to NYC!

2006-09-24T17:12:00.000-04:00

Last weekend was Marisa's surprise bachelorette party!! Jen, Amanda, and I donned our devil-horned headbands and whisked the bride-to-be off for a weekend of fun and adventure in the city of all cities, New York.

And boy, did we have fun and adventure. Here's the long and the short of it:

There is a hidden agenda on trains. Did you know that Canada Dry Gingerale and Mug Root Beer are high-class beverages? Because we were not in business class, we were not allowed to consume these drinks in the food car! AND because of that, we all wanted root beer and gingerale the whole weekend.
There is no such thing as too much blinking. Just ask Marisa.
There is such a thing as STARING...and because of our horns and Marisa's blinking, we got our fair share of that. We were even seated in the back of the Italian restaurant as to not draw attention to ourselves. Nice.
The Culture Club was a fantastically 80s joint. It came complete with 80s named drinks including the Bon Jovi, Billy Ray Cyrus, and Loraina Bobbit shots. Even in that context, I still preferred Bon Jovi. =) Marisa enjoyed her "bitches" getting the job done...finding the guys with the chest hair, shot-buying power, boxer-short guy, and even the freaky German ones who didn't understand what a bachelorette was. However, one must question the number of times it is acceptable for a dj to "shout out" the bachelorettes in the house...along with the shout outs to the alcoholics...
Catching cabs are harder than it seems...especially when you're blinking and have 5 "bitches" with you in devil horns. "What is this? Frogga?"
The day after was equally as awesome with Chinatown Canal St. shopping. We did the whole "dark-alley-van-weilding-secret-back-room" purse shopping gig. Although there were moments where we thought we were gonna die, it was FUN. There is a rush in sneaking into back rooms and basements to look at counterfeit purses. We also enjoyed our $4 coffees, $3 breakfast, $14 ruebens...and priceless time with fabulous people on a gorgeous day.

A huge hand to Jen for the coordination of the awesome event that I can't even do justice to in one entry. =) Congrats again to young Marisa and her beau. I can only hope that this isn't the last time we'll go to NYC for a weekend getaway.

Note to self: Never underestimate the power of the devil horns. And sliding doors on a bathroom without a fan are cool.

Logic Problem?

2006-09-06T19:36:00.000-04:00

There is a phenomenon at Htown High that I must share: Stairway 5.

First...some background info to set the stage...
Stairway 5 is just outside of my classroom door. For the past 2 years, it has been an "up-only" stairway. FYI: "up only" means that students are only allowed to walk up these stairs, not down. There is so much traffic that the creation of the one-way stairwells is the primary form of crowd control for our Hurricanes. AND because Stairway 5 is just outside of my classroom door AND I am the ONLY teacher at that end of the hallway, I am blessed with the policing of the stairway and all of it's wonders. =)

Here's my dish.

Stair 5 is UP ONLY, and has been for 2 years. YET, nearly every period of every day I fight the battle of the upperclassmen who want to be THAT badass that goes DOWN stairway 5. WHY? Even more phenomenal are those kids who walk RIGHT UP TO ME and then sigh when I tell them/force them to walk back the other direction to go downstairs. Did I mention that there are several LARGE YELLOW SIGNS with "up" written on them and arrows that point "up" posted right by the doors, in the stairwell, etc. YET, every period of every day students try to go down the stairs.

Tell me, what is the appeal? Why fight the establishment? Why give me a hard time when it's not my rule? Why can't you just go away?!

Note to self: Amish parties are fun. Take backs are NOT cool. Kids that think brown-nosing is fun and cool are suckers. =)

Gyms, Beaches, Showers, and Clothes...Oh My!

2006-08-27T17:54:00.000-04:00

As you may have guessed, I am back in the full-swing of fall...which means, I sleep at home and live at school. =)

Volleyball season has started and the team has survived a harrowing experience in OC, 2 scrimmages, and 2 full weeks of kick-ass conditioning. They look good and I'm very optimistic about our chances of fulfilling our season's goal of taking our team all the way to the championship trophy. Any team that stave off Laverne's pool workout, the drunk Canadian stalker, 100 degree heat in the gym, AND laugh about it is gonna make it far.

School started last Tuesday and I am excited about this year's crop. They seem to be energetic and fun...but again, it may just be "showing off." We'll have to wait and see in a few weeks once the novelty has worn off. I am encouraged that all but one turned in their first assignment. Massive improvement from last year.

I attended Marisa's surprise bridal shower yesterday. Nothing beats surprising someone who finds everything out ahead of time. She had no idea!! HA! It was a great afternoon and fun company too. Hats off to the future Mrs. Saville!

Note to self: Tax free stuff is ALWAYS more appealing than normal sale stuff. (and easier to justify I might add.) Everyone needs "a mitt," right Marisa? And ice cream makes everything better.

On my way to N.C.

2006-08-11T11:59:00.000-04:00

SO people watching is not only for malls and grocery stores. Another fabulous location happens to be the highway. In my travels to NC yesterday, I saw some intriguing stuff that I just HAD to share.

1) Did you know that there is a fast fix for your air conditioning in your car? Instead of spending oodles of dough by going to the garage to get it fixed, simply attach a window unit to the back window of your van and attach it to a generator. Duh! The trick is making sure the generator doesn't fall off the crate that it sits on...just use enough duct tape.

2) Did you know that you can buy a pre-fab log cabin? Yes. For all of your rustic needs within your budget and put together fast (think linkin logs), you can get a log cabin delivered to your city land plot within a week (the sign said so).

3) Did you know that you can drive your tractor to the Dairy Queen/Subway/gas station/rest stop...and they have DESIGNATED PARKING SPACES for them? Perhaps So.Mar. should consider this parking feature.

Note to self: Painting and moving are FUN...no matter what other people say. I love peach and ectoplasm. Nothing makes me happier than manuevering stairs covered with slippery tarps. And the best part: PIZZA for every meal. =)

Scuse me??

2006-08-07T11:02:00.000-04:00

So I spent a day helping Casey paint her new crib (aka the former Sammons household). It looks fabulous now after rolling 2 coats of peach paint all over the place.

BUT apparently something happened whilst I was sweatin' to the 80s in la casa de Mitchell yesterday.

On my drive this morning, I noticed that there are some trees that have leaves that are starting to change...and gasp...even fall to the ground. Scuse me?? I do believe it is still officially summer. We still have temps in the 90s. We're still swimming in the pools. We're still craving Rita's Italian Ice and Ben & Jerry's. Ok, so maybe that last one never stops, but still. The leaves are starting to change ALREADY!

Is this just reminent high-ness from painting? Is this a facade? Is this a hallucination? Did I hiberate for a few months and think it was only one night?

Note to self: Try not to listen to Justin Timerlake's new song. Not only will it get stuck in your head, you'll want to keep listening to it...so stop the insanity before it starts.

Do you live in a ghetto?

2006-08-04T13:28:00.000-04:00

Here's how you can tell...

1) Count the number of cars in the parking lot with flat tires. NOW count the number of expensive cars (Caddy's, Lincoln's, Benz's). If the numbers are equal, you live in the ghetto.

2) Observe the manner in which people are cooling their homes. Is tin foil involved?

3) How many speed bumps are there in the approach to your residence? If there is a speed bump every 20 feet...you DEFINITELY in a ghetto-esque area. If there aren't any, consider why people are allowed to speed by your residence...

4) Do people hang out on the stoop of the residence? If so, they are ghetto as well as your crib.

There will be further installments of "do you live in the ghetto" sooner than later. However, these are important questions to consider if you are a) looking for a new place, 2) are considering moving from your current residence, or d) evaluating your life choices.

Note to self: Fanta is the best drink...when you can't get the damn song out of your head.

A Love/Hate Relationship.

2006-07-31T12:00:00.000-04:00

I have learned patience over time from one activity and one activity only: shopping. School shopping is a fab time of year...for most people. Parents are eager to ship off their kids to teachers, kids are ready to shop for their new wardrobe, and there's an air of excitement in the stores...for MOST PEOPLE. I have never been one of these excited people. School shopping only reminds me that I am abnormally sized compared to what most shoppers are.

Let me splain.

Pants shopping. Apparently the 5'10"-no-curve look is very rare as most pants are too short and have fabric hanging off my boyish shape. And let's not forget that in order to find A pair of pants that fit, I have to try on an AVERAGE of 10. Ask my sister or my mom...they understand the agony of me and my nemisis: the fitting room.

Shirt shopping. In addition to the struggle to clothe my long legs, finding shirts that are not about to split their seems across my athletic shoulders YET ALSO do not give the impression that I am pregnant is a challenge of olympic proportion. Where are these skinny armed girls? Are there no athletes who have a day job?

AND THE ULTIMATE WOE: shoes. I love shoes as much as the next girl. But I have been blessed with big feet. You know what they say about girls with big feet? They wear flip flops because 90% of the shoes in the stores are sizes 7-8-9. Oye. I don't usually pick my shoes; they pick me. That is, I have to select styles because they actually have my size.

I've seen women like me...and we're wearing the same clothes and shoes. Is it possible that the fashion industry is stuck in a time warp? Do they not realize that women are bigger now? Maybe I just have to become famous so designers will make clothes that fit me.

Note to self: Start a support group for "unaverage" women. Rent a stadium for the meetings.

Shopping Phenomena

2006-07-29T18:48:00.000-04:00

I am always amazed by human nature. Our accomplishments, creativity, abilities, and cultures are unbelievable considering that we also have some of the dumbest actions, beliefs, and behaviors on this planet.

These dumb actions can be seen regularly at one location in particular: the mall. The mall appears to be a haven for idiot behavior. I swear, people will do things in malls that would not occur anywhere else on Earth. So here goes: Mall Observations, Take 1.

Whilst I wait for my mango bubble tea, I am amazed at the tenacity passers-by have for the thimble-sized sample tray by the register. Not only will these thirsty shoppers wait in anger for the tray to be refilled, but they will push you out of their blood thirsty way for a taste of sugary heaven in the center kiosk of the mall. WTF!
The pace of shoppers from store to store varies along the spectrum of slowness. It never ceases to amaze me that some people not only want to challenge the tortoise to a race, BUT they want to walk in lines of 4-6 such as to take up the entire walkway. I know that shopping is therapeutic, and for some of these poor souls, this walk down and back is the only form of exercise their saggy bodies see in a week, but sheesh! Step aside! I'm going to hazzard a guess that these are also those retards that drive -10 mph in the left lane.
There is also a special place for the stoppers. You know who these mo-fo's are. These are the peeps that browse the aisles of a store at a snail's pace and then for no apparent reason, stop. That's right. They stop in the middle of the walkway, aisleway, or better yet, pin you between a rack and the wall so you can't escape. Then, when you try to pass, they give you that look of disdain like you shouldn't be annoyed that they have trapped you in a form of hell called "the junior's section" or "designer clothes you can't afford."

I'm sure there are more that I'll add later...but just reflect here...where does this behavior come from? Is it some sort of chemical in the air? Is it the power of credit that causes lapses in human judgment?

Note to self: I love watching tourists in downtown Annapolis. It is a small city, but you'd never know it by the looks of these freak shows. It's easy to find them...they're the ones that are wearing shirts with sleeves, sweaters, and pants in 100 degree weather while the locals are sitting outside having a drink.

The Rules...

2006-07-18T22:27:00.000-04:00

...for surviving the night in Adams Morgan.
1. Be prepared to drive around for 45 minutes, carefully navigating the spiderwebs of back streets searching for a parking spot. Pay attention to street names and directions you walk and you weave your way back to the main street. YOU WILL GET LOST when you leave in an altered state (and don’t trust your friends because they aren’t paying attention).

2. Be ready to stand in lines to get into overflowing bars and clubs. These are apparently elite establishments that cater to the “it” crowds…since they’re always at capacity. And if you have group, you’ll wait forever to get everyone in.

3. After a night of being packed in like sardines, top it off with a slice of heaven. Pizza by the slice (and by slice I mean plateful) is sold every 10 feet. It is the almost perfect end to an evening of insanity.

4. Remember, it is commonplace to walk down the middle of the street when exiting the bars and searching for your midnight snack. Literally. Feel free to join the herds and hoards of people walking like sheep down the middle of the street. Don't worry. The cars won't hit you. You outnumber the cars 5000:1. Besides, real-life Frogger is fun...but only if you've had some pizza.

Note to self: Try these. Stand in the middle of an intersection to hail the one cab that has already passed you. OR knock on the window on the second floor of a building in hopes of attracting the attention of someone below on the sidewalk. Sure, people will hear you.

Navy and the Pier.

2006-07-13T19:31:00.000-04:00

Two Trips. Too much fun.

First: a week in Chicago with my baby sister. I LOVE Chicago more and more each time I go. There aren't many places where you can run in a beautiful park, eat phenomenal food, play beach volleyball, and shop in some of the best stores all in the same day. Not gonna lie, I might just have to move there. Best parts: fireworks over Navy Pier, playing the Duo and VV, the zoo, the park, and Thai with Coppertone, shoe shopping on the Mile, and getting rid of my ORANGE hair.

Then, I spent 5 days coaching at the Navy Volleyball camp. I have never worked or sweat so much in my life. It was like a blast from college past. I stayed in a bunk in the dorm, fan blowing on me all night, ate dorm food complete with Mystery Meat Monday, and walked all over the campus from gym to gym. Sheesh. It was fun and I met some really cool peeps...and I got to laugh at the pleebs who are fresh on campus and have to run everywhere they go. HA. Suckas.

Note to self: If you find yourself on a plane and the woman who is reading a book next to you puts the book down in her lap, then places her head on the head rest, this is NOT an invitation to open a 35 minute conversation about football and the military. Thanks.

An Eye for an Eye.

2006-06-30T22:11:00.000-04:00

You never know what you'll get from a doctor's visit. I often look at it as a way to catch up on gossip by reading every magazine in the waiting room...but this year's eye doctor appointment came with a special kick this year.

It's not like visiting the opthomologist is at the top of my sweet list of fun things to do. It is totally weird going to a doctor who I can't see because my contacts are out and my pupils are huge. It gets even better when he turns off the lights, so it's just me and him in a dark exam room with one of those funky gadgets pressed up to my face. He wheels his stool over, I can hear him moving in the squeaky chair, and all I can see is the little pen light he's flashing in my eyes. He sighs, sufficiently freaking me out (I have anxiety about going blind), and says, "You have beautiful retinas."

Come again? Jigga what? Exsqueeze me? Just to be clear, the retina is the area in the back, inside your eyeball that the image falls on...not the iris (colored part in the front).

Apparently I have not been flaunting my best feature. Who says that? Beautiful retinas. What am I supposed to do with that comment? in the dark with my opthomologist? shining a bright light into my dilated eyes? I said thank you...but what? Turn the light on and let me put my contacts back in before you start saying weird things.

Note to self: Make a shirt that says "Check out my retinas. And yes, they're real."

Lemon Aid?

2006-06-27T17:49:00.000-04:00

Can anyone tell me when lemons became the water garnish of choice? I mean seriously...I seem to vaguely remember being served water with just a glass when I was just a wee lass. But these days, you'll be hard-pressed to find any restaurant that serves water sans lemon wedge.

Even better...I love it PARTICULARLY when the server will bring you a new glass of water to replace your emptied vessel with a fresh lemon wedge WHEN THE OLD GLASS'S WEDGE IS STILL ON THE SIDE OF THE GLASS. Isn't that a sign? Should I wear a shirt that says, "Save the Wedge"?

What if I don't want lemon? What if I'm more of an orange fan? Can I get an orange wedge to grace my glass? I'm starting a revolution.

Note to self: Whenever you buy stuff to wash your car, get a bathing suit, a pool pass, and a new towel, and have time....it WILL rain everyday so you can't enjoy it!

The June Bug

2006-06-26T19:31:00.000-04:00

So...it's been awhile since I've blogged. Here's the skinny...

-School is OVER. Amen. Rough end to a rough year. Nuff said.
-Surprised the Dad for Father's Day with a 4 day trip to the Mitt. Good times in the frigid north.
-Finished one grad class, in the midst of another, one on the horizon. Don't be jealous.
-Threw a bday party for Jen and Josh. Good times, good food, good dancing, and a sobriety checkpoint test aced. Go Brian go!
-Celebrated Karyn and Josh's graduation from grad school. So proud and so jealous!
-Baby Sister's 25 now. Damn I'm old.
-End of the season party with Heidi and Black Attack. Despite the rain, we still had a blast.
-Pimped the outside of the house with some flowers from Home Depot. Don't ask me what kinds they are cuz all I'll say are red, white, and blue.

I love being a normal adult...meaning that I get up at a reasonable hour and go to sleep at a reasonable hour.

Note to self: Friends don't let friends work with controlling, nosy, old, out-of-shape, bitchy adults who are so insecure that they let it affect their ability to be SANE. Roots are in (haven't you heard?). Project Runway and America's Next Top Model are the BEST shows...no matter what you say...judge me anyway!

4 Down.

2006-06-05T20:51:00.000-04:00

Today was the last full day with students. My kids took their exams, so officially, I'm done with my 4th year of teaching. Can I get a witness??

And kudos to Mitch for tackling her first year with more grace than most. Here's to you Ms. Thang. =)

It's weird, but I almost can't believe that I've been doing this for 4 years. It is by far the job I've had the longest (other than babysitting, but I don't think that is a real job). I've lived here in MD for 4 years?!?! Why do I still feel like such a foreigner still? I still don't know my way around very well. I still don't know where things are. I still sound like a flippin northerner...eh? =)

Ah well...at least I can look forward to another kickin summer of volleyball, working out, camps, grad class, Chi-town, and chillin with my peeps...and unlocking the mysterious lives of Maryland residents (like my shady neighbor).

Note to self: (from 5th period psych today) I've got a fever, and the only prescription is more cowbell.

White hats, Red Sox.

2006-05-18T19:33:00.000-04:00

Vikki, Karen, Missy, and I all braved the trek into Baltimore to watch their beloved Sox take on the Orioles in the last game of their series. It was fabulous!! We had unbelievable seats: 11 rows behind the Sox dugout. Amazing.

AND we got free white Orioles hats for being some of the first 20000 fans. Nothin like wearing the Orioles hat and a Sox shirt. Burn.

The only problem? I WANTED A FLIPPIN HOT DOG. Where was the hot dog man? No where to be found. I mean, seriously. Baseball=hot dogs. But not last night...we waited PATIENTLY until the 5th inning...by that point, we could have had a dozen beers, peanuts, pretzels, lemonade, and rainbow-colored slushies...all those dudes went scooting by. But no hot dog man. That is, until AFTER we had our dogs and fries (a healthy meal), and then all that came by our stellar 11th row seats were the hot dog dudes. What?!?! Apparently there's a rule about post-5th inning hot dog sales. Oye. What's a girl gotta do to get the yummy goodness brought right to her lazy behind?

Note to self: Still not a fan of baseball...but love the Oriole hotdogs. Still not a fan of the end of the year...but love the prompt exit of certain kids. Still not a fan of late school nights...but LOVE Grey's Anatomy!!

And one more thing...

2006-05-14T17:55:00.000-04:00

I can't believe I forgot this one...

We saw Rod Stewart at Yellowfin on Friday. Well, maybe it wasn't THE Rod Stewart, but he could be a double for him...hair and all. Close enough to warrant bets from my posse to go up to him and ask, "Do you want my body? Do you think I'm sexy? Come on baby, let me know."

I heart my friends.

Note to self: FE...have I told you, lately?

Watermelon and Dancing.

2006-05-14T15:58:00.000-04:00

Thanks to all for making Birthday 2006 a ton of fun!! Misson accomplished in both phase 1 and phase 2.

Phase 1: We hit Yellowfin for half-priced appetizers and desserts. OOOOO!! It was yummy and the company was fabulous...and I don't just mean El Posse de Turner. I'm also talking about those peeps that come outta the woodwork for some cheap good food. First, there was a man we referred to as "Watermelon." This was the code so we could ensure everyone's attention would be on him as he'd walk by, proudly displaying his hideously heinous silk shorts outfit...tie-dyed to perfection. Then, as if life couldn't be better while stuffing our faces with Brian's girly mini-brie plate or crab dip, these 2 40 year-old guys stood (that's right, stood) at the end of our table at ate their soup, hit on my sister, and proceeded to talk to a woman who has definitely spent too much time on her sugar daddy's yacht sunning her George Hamilton-shout-out tan and displaying her multimillion dollar investment chest. Good times.

Phase 2: Fur Nightclub. After getting into town, finding parking, and then finding the club (harder than it seemed), the night at Fur proved to be fun as well. We got VIP stamps, which is the first time any of us had ever got VIP stuff before...probably why we totally forgot about it and never went into the VIP lounge. Sheesh. We danced the night away amidst a sea of men and hooched out women...with a twist. Apparently, the 4 of us looked bootylicious to the African American male crowd since we couldn't beat them off with a stick. Once one left our crew, a replacement quickly followed. It was hysterical...especially since these male specimens were...cough cough...rather well...cough cough...spunky. Good times, again.

Note to self: Can't wait 'til summer...more time with baby sister and my peeps...

How to be a Pimp: Lesson 1.

2006-04-30T17:09:00.000-04:00

First, and foremost apparently, you must have a low-ridin' truck complete with a custom spray-paint paint job AND hydrolix. Nothing makes you look more pimp than backing up your 1986 Chevy truck and then pop your hydrolix in the outskirts of Baltimore. Seriously.

It also helps if you are confused about what race you are. This Eminem wanna-be was wearing uber large pants with a white t-shirt that really could have been accessorized with a stylish belt and made into a dress. It only added fuel to the fire when we discovered he was the owner of the hydro-low custom-painted Chevy.

Did I mention the Cadilac throw-back rims? That earns a bonus point on the way to become the Grand Master Pimp.

Note to self: Avoid the Wilson Bridge at all costs...OR...go pee before you take off REGARDLESS of how long you THINK it will take you to get home.

Back in the Saddle...again

2006-04-18T20:48:00.000-04:00

Is it possible to build a tolerance to one's job? Only to go through a withdrawal of sorts and then get drowned in sorrow at the job's return?

I say this on my first day back from a week's vaycay from my an-hells...and I'm totally dead tired. A week of getting up at "normal time" and going to bed at "normal time" killed my work tolerance to getting up at the butt-crack of dawn...making today's alarm the true sound of the devil.

Is it possible to build a tolerance? Do doctors have this problem? Lawyers? Mail persons? Nail technicians? Help!! No towel, need sleepy.

Note to self: Sugar crashes are worse than caffeine withdrawal. Chocolate is an addiction. The Cadbury Cream egg Gods hate me I'm sure of it.

The Prince of the "Revolution"?

2006-04-02T09:55:00.000-04:00

As a fan of Dave and Busters, I can see the appeal of wanting to play the best games (aka skee ball) and enjoy the company and craziness of one's companions. However, at what point do you become obsessed, nay even a fanatic? I believe I have found the answer: The dude at the Dance, Dance Revolution game.

I have been to Dave and Busters twice...dude was there both times and always at that game. I mean, he's a pro. He brings a water bottle and even wears lifting gloves to prevent chafing while he firmly grips the bar to allow his feet to move faster (a move he patented I'm sure). I'm not sure if he thinks Dave and Busters is a gym, but he's sweatin out all his worries as witnessed by the soaking wet shirt he dons while starting his very own revolution.

My question: does he think he's bad ass? cool even? I'm not sure about other girls, but the mastery of DDR is not at the top of my "must haves" list in a man. I mean, he was even talking to the machine!

Note to self: Begin a skee ball revolution. It is the only game that rules no matter how old you are. The only thing that'd make it better is to win chocolate instead of tickets.

Am I a Girl?

2006-03-28T19:43:00.000-05:00

Here's the deal. I have never been one to be described as "girly," "delicate," "dainty," or "graceful." However, I think I am getting in touch with my inner girl. I know, I know...I should have warned you to sit down first. Relax, relate, release. Let me splain.

Sign #1 of the "girly" disease: caring about makeup.
Felicia is hooking me up on the Mary Kay tip. Her anti-aging tips and color consultation abilities have created a small monster inside this massive body o'mine that actually is CONCERNED about wrinkles, lines, and whether or not I'm a summer or a winter. Is it weird if I'm actually excited about getting new colors tomorrow?

Sign #2 of the "girly disease: desire for shoes
I almost tried on/bought a pair of Jimmy Choo shoes with my sister last weekend. Let me sum up: we went shopping on Michigan Ave., and I had a hankering for shoes. I saw what I have deemed as the cutest pair of shoes ever. And noticing the Choo label, freaked out at the price, and carefully placed them back on the rack.

Sign #3 of the "girly" disease: actually thinking about dropping $500 on a pair of black heels...that are "cute."
After placing the Choos back on the rack, I actually thought about opening a charge card to get the discount to justify the $500 for the shoes.

Somebody call 911 or the fashion police or the Ghostbusters...there is obviously something wrong with me. What is the deal?!?!

Note to self: Schedule a mani-pedi more often with the sista. Who new parrafin wax could be so fun. Don't underestimate the power of the inner girl...it takes the edge of frustrations with NCAA bracketology.

Shamrocks and Shakes

2006-03-20T15:47:00.000-05:00

I heart St. Patty's Day in Annapolis with my posse o' peeps. Had quite the bunch giving the floor some much needed TLC on Friday night, but from what it seems, good times were had by all. From the Jihad that Brian almost had put on him by the cabby to swervy, wandering while looking for a 679 that didn't exist...thanks guys. It was sa-weet!

Needless to say, I woke up on Saturday with the shakes and the worst cramps I've ever had...to the point where I almost passed out in the shower. Lovely way to begin the weekend. Hats off to Casey for not totally freaking out on me when she heard my groans and gasps for air. =P

Note to self: Green makes people crazy, so whoever said that green is a soothing color is OBVIOUSLY not Irish. Car bombs still rock. I love blinking beads. I don't like green-shirt wearing drunkards who spill their car bombs all over me shorting out my blinking beads.

The hot spot...

2006-03-10T17:25:00.000-05:00

...is in my classroom! Sheesh. It was gorgeous outside today and very warm (pushing the 80 degree mark). And you'd think that the genui (plural for multiple genuis people) at the BOE would KNOW that you don't need HEAT if it is warm outside. My poor babies cooked as they tested today.

Is it sick if I enjoyed watching them sweat it out and wondered if it was in fact the test or the temperature?

And can I get a witness for the weekend? Praise the God of all that is holy for the opportunity to sleep in for the 1st time in 3 weeks. Hopefully all of that rest will get me motivated to grade papers...a girl can dream can't she?

Note to self: Never underestimate the power of Dave n Busters...and an ironic movie...with Marisa...on a payday Friday. Sounds like I'm setting myself up for a fantabulous night of memories. Sometimes life is just good.

Disappointment

2006-03-05T15:47:00.000-05:00

Nothing like a double whammy.

Taxes=retarded! I can't believe that I owe such a significant amount of moolah to GB and our freaking government. I hate that they take so much outta my hands anyway but now I owe more? What kind of world is this? I owe like 500 Jr. Bacon Cheeseburgers. And I don't even like bacon on my cheeseburgers.

Tournament yesterday=pathetic. We played horribly. Granted, we lost to good teams...but it is ridiculous that we can hang in there with good teams, but not put them away when it counts. We just couldn't get anything started and it was mucho frustrating. Hopefully tomorrow evening we'll be able to redeem ourselves a little. Sheesh.

Note to self: Is it bad if I look forward to the next installment of Sex and the City On Demand? Is it wrong if I never get tired of Friends re-runs? Is it weird if I apparently don't understand what is so great about Santino on Project Runway?

The curse is broken!

2006-02-25T20:59:00.000-05:00

Black Attack finally made it out of semis! It was fabulous. We also played the same flippin team in the finals as we had played in our first match of the day. AH! I hate losing to them though. We lost in the finals...but played pretty well overall.

The best part is that we play again next Saturday at the Armory at UMD. Sweet.

And I bid farewell to Adam last night. I can't believe he was only here for a month and now POOF! Off for training and then to Kuwait. Sometimes life really stinks.

Note to self: Whoever discovered ibuprofen should be knighted or made an angel or something. Whoever perfected the candy coating on Advil is next in line.

And?

2006-02-21T22:01:00.000-05:00

Holy schnikes! Good. Bad. Weird.

Good: Marisa, Jen and I had a BLAST on the Eastern Shore doing very girly wedding things. It was a nice quick getaway...and successful too! Dresses found, good food, curling, convo, and the all-important disposable camera. Couldn't have come at a better time! =)

Bad: Just found out that my good friend Adam is going to Kuwait for flippin' 2 years starting...mmm...next week! He was supposed to be here in Naptown for 2 years teaching at the Academy, now he's headed to N.C. for training, then to flippin' Kuwait with a M-13 and kevlar. SOOOOOO not cool.

Weird: The only sport that I've watched on the Olympics is curling. Every time I turn it on, curling. Even when I tried to Google something today, the friggin Google icon was curling. What the hell?

Note to self: Cheese and chocolate at The Melting Pot=Delish. Cheese, chocolate, and convo with Marisa=Fab. Cheese, chocolate, Marisa, and volleyball in one night? Perfection. =)

Eating my words.

2006-02-12T15:12:00.000-05:00

It happened. We got about 10 inches of snow (which the weatherpeeps predicted) yesterday. It is beautiful outside. It's the kind of wet snow that sticks to the branches of the trees and makes you want to take pictures of it. It wasn't so beautiful trying to drive home on 97 last night when I could not make out where the road was vs the median...and it took me 30 mins to take a 10 minute drive. BUT...it's pretty today from the safety of my warm home. =)

Good times with the peeps yesterday...from PTing with Marisa, to watching Merlin get thumped by the Blue Devils with Heather, JB, and Adam, to Jen's potluck....tiring, but a much-needed day of laughter, apples to apples, and sports.

Note to self: Do not allow a 45 lb weight to roll on your foot. Chocolate chips make pancakes better. Sex and the City make pancakes and a sore foot awesome.

Danger Will Robinson!

2006-02-08T18:58:00.000-05:00

I'm pretty sure hell is frozen over...

Why?

A) My worst, most unruly class was the best class today. I mean, silent, engaged, working on their research papers.

2) On the subject of engagement, Tom Brady is single again. Look out New England...I'm coming to stake my claim!

D) I ate 2 pieces of corn bread with dinner tonight. I have never liked corn bread. But I liked it tonight.

Note to self: Finish the will since I'm obviously going to die in the apocolypse that is going to occur very soon. Hey, I should eat more chocolate since calories don't count before an apocolypse.

Freudian Slips into my Classroom

2006-02-02T15:42:00.000-05:00

Some days I realize how entertaining teaching really can be...like with our development monologue-esque presentations today. The kids were put into groups and assigned to present "Bob" at a certain age and explain his development through the theories we've covered.

Scene:
Bob at age 3 proposes to his mother, who says she loves his father. Bob dramatically plots the murder of his father to make his mother available for nuptuals. Bob is then rejected and scarred for life when his mother turns him down again.

I laughed so hard, not only did I cry, but I almost peed my pants. Not only were they right on with Freud's theory and creatively integrate the other 3 theories into their performance, BUT this was a group of all girls, complete hams, and they had plotted out the execution of the performance flawlessly.

Note to self: Navy basketball stinks...but the halftime dodgeball game ROCKED and was so worth the $3 under-18-student fee I paid to get in. =)

#12

2006-01-30T17:54:00.000-05:00

First: massive props to Keith and his AWESOME repetoire of 80s low-lying hits. It made Saturday night better! =) Nothing like somebody who can appreciate and remember the b-side hits and obscure movie songs.

Second: Apparently Tom Brady was on Family Guy last night and I MISSED IT! Oye. There simply are not greater tragedies.

Third: Saw my long-time college friend Marcus Knight on tv yesterday playing for the Philadelphia Soul...wearing #12...which was my number in college...also shared with a certain aforementioned quarterback...coincidence? Maybe. Cool? Definitely.

Note to self: Never underestimate the power of chocolate.

Wrestlemania

2006-01-24T21:12:00.000-05:00

So I finally get to a wrestling meet to cheer on some of my students...and what?! 3 of them get wins via forfeit. What the crap?! This is insane. In fact, only 3 or 4 kids actually wrestled. The rest of the meet was this: check in at the table, run out on the mat, ref raises Htown's arm in victory. Stupid.

But after going to the wrestling meet...it makes me want to revisit the men in spandex argument...

Note to self: I have a confession. I'm addicted to postsecret.blogspot.com. Strange, aren't you supposed to be healed after a confession? I just read the blog again. OYE.

Oye.

2006-01-19T18:58:00.000-05:00

It has been a tough week in Turnerland.

It began with the loss of one of my favorite students to a car accident. Needless to say, my troops and I are hanging in there, but we're definitely not going to be right for awhile. The week continues with a 2.5 hour meeting with the Lord. Do I need to elaborate on that? mmmmm NO. And today is the end of 2nd quarter. As anyone knows, the end of a marking period is always a stressfully notable occasion on both sides of the desk.

Oye.

BUT I have also become addicted to TWO must-see shows: Carnivale and My Name is Earl. Earl is flippin hil-arious (I laughed so hard a little pee came out). Carnivale is totally weird but captivating. If you haven't indulged...whatcha waitin fo?

Note to self: Is it bad if I miss my cat? Is it bad if I can't get Rump Shaker out of my head? Is it bad if I love cookie dough in the plastic container as much as the warm cookies out of the oven? Is it bad if I like to write comments on papers because I like my pen? Such are the questions of my life.

Fiesta Pats and a volleying Geisha

2006-01-16T11:33:00.000-05:00

Massive props to Tom and Amy for a kick ass Fiesta Mexicana on Saturday. Another nod to J. Co, Marisa, Casey, and all my other drinking game peeps. Nothing says noble more than holding your own at Kings! PS: next time, you must drink to play...no designated drinking Casey!

My beloved Brady is now at home. No longer to be donning the hot pants, masterfully crafting the deceptive offense of the Pats. Damn broncos. BUT, in lighter news, Peyton Manning is at home crying, moaning, and complaining because his Colts couldn't manage to pull one out over those Steelers. So, just because the Steelers made Peyton cry, I'm inclined to cheer for them.

Saw "Memoirs of a Geisha" yesterday. It was fabulous. I have once again decided that my boring English and Canadian heritage is not gonna cut it. Do you think I could manage to become a Geisha? Do they accept 5'10" of athletic prowess with a ghetto booty? Do they even make kimonos that large?

Note to self: Find a great tent print for making of kimono. Bring own water to movie theater. Stretch before playing tonight...no Geisha can be sore.

Playa playa

2006-01-08T08:57:00.000-05:00

Words cannot express the amount of stress relieving and fun that occur when playing volleyball! Played in a tourney yesterday with my new team, Black Attack. Despite original thoughts that this team would be filled with players that fit the description of the title, my friend Heidi and I seemed to fit right in. Although we hadn't practiced together or even knew each other before stepping on the court, BA made it to the semifinals! A feat to be insanely proud of...and we had a blast too.

Now...the dark side of playing: soreness. Oh yeah. I can feel every muscle in my shoulders, back, behind, and legs. I am walking like a granny after hip and knee replacements. It is really funny in a way, but holy schnikes! No amount of hydration, fruit, and drugs could have prevented this, especially since I TRIED TO PREVENT IT! Ah well, at least I know those muscles exist.

And while we're on that note, I have a rant. I can't stand playing against 2 types of people. Type A: the ridiculously competitive "I-know-I'm-great-so-I'll-talk-trash-to-show-my-bitchiness" queen. Please. Leave your trash talking in college. We're adults now. We're not training 3 hours a day or more 7 days a week like we used to. There aren't coaching jobs at stake. There is no real "award" or recognition for playing. Aren't we supposed to be having FUN? If you need to trash talk like that, then might I suggest roller derby? becoming a lawyer? anger management?

And type B: the slimy older lady. Oh I know, how un-pc of me. But seriously. If you can't move, don't play. If you can't hit, don't play. If you can't play the way that the Volleyball God (aka Karch Kiraly) intended, then DON'T PLAY. Nothing is more irritating than slimy crap that older not-so-mobile-so-I'll-tip-retardedly-and-one-arm-everything play. Augh.

Note to self: Candy=good. Candy coating=gooood. Candy coating on Advil=priceless.

Spandex.

2005-12-15T19:05:00.000-05:00

Ok. I don't care how hot you are. I don't care how great your body is (or how great you think it is). Friggin Tom Brady could walk into the gym and I would PUKE if he committed the one style sin to rival the speedo: MEN IN SPANDEX.

I have noticed that men at the gym I work out at are particularly fond of the spandex. No. No. No. Shorts. Strike that: knee-length shorts. I don't wanna see your bulge and neither does the old heart-attack-prone woman next to me. Keep it in the shorts. Whatever happened to leaving something to the imagination? PLEASE.

Note to self: I love brownies. I love Christmas cookies. I love wearing spandex after eating brownies and Christmas cookies.

The Final Countdown.

2005-12-11T21:19:00.000-05:00

One helluva weekend.

Started off right with a sleet day on Friday. Super sweet. I needed a free three-day weekend from those jerks. Movies with the boys then down to see The Boy at his place of work for a holiday par-tay, complete with Keeram eating everything with chocolate.

Saturday, after grading papers, it was off to McGowan's for the December version of the potluck. It rocked! Complete with super cute children, extra good food, and the desire to eat! Massive props to McC and the dip, Bol and the butter cake, and Sara & Casey's role as my leg warmers.

Today was spent at Arundel Mills shopping for Raymond's parentals and trying to get some odds and ends taken care of. Sheesh. I've never had so many problems getting stuff for holidays!

Note to self: What would be the ultimate Christmas/New Year's story? gift? event? What can I expect this year compared to the CRAZINESS of last year's flights, lost luggage, trips, and peeps met? =P

Skee Ball!!

2005-12-04T20:02:00.000-05:00

Ok, so I got to relive some of the most awesome games of my childhood on Friday night. I accompanied some super cool peeps to Dave and Busters, the Chuck E. Cheese for adults. Having never been, I was intrigued by what the big deal is about D & Bs.

First of all, Skee Ball rocks. It took me back to my roots...where I was too big to do any of the other rides and games at Chuck E. Cheese's. Apparently I still have the touch with those smooth wooden balls.

Secondly, basketball games rock. It was raining hoops when we stepped up to that plastic partion! Apparently, I still ahve the magic touch, even under the influence. =P

Note to self: Beware of driving games, ring issues, and ticket stealers.

Toof.

2005-11-29T20:27:00.000-05:00

So when did the dentist become a somewhat enjoyable experience? Let me splain.

1) Metal, sharp, hooked instruments of death commonly used to scrape plaque off your teeth have been REPLACED by a water pick that uses sonic waves. What the hell? Talk about taking the fun outta it for the hygenist.

B) Gritty, gag-reflex-causing polish has been REPLACED by an assortment of flavors of fine polish that really tastes and feels very much like toothpaste. Shit, I could get a Sonicare and Crest and do the same job! What the hell? No more chewing sand-esque morsels for an hour after the appointment or DREADING the rinse.

4) Fluoride is now mulit-flavored...but actually tastes like the flavor and not some attempt at a sour version of bubble gum. What the hell? No more tongue dodging! No more strategic moves with the sucky thing that dries out your throat.

What is the world coming to when you can't dread going to the dentist?

Note to self: Stop flossing. Must make another dentist appointment.

Frozen Turkey.

2005-11-28T20:17:00.000-05:00

The Boy and I made the trek back to the Mitt for some good ol' fun with the fam and food galore. 4 pies, 1 cake, 24 lbs of bird and all the fixins. MMM MMM good. It snowed and was ridiculously cold the entire time we were there. It's funny how easy it is to be reminded as to why I don't live there anymore!

Regardless of the cold, we had a good time and I was totally stoked that he finally got to meet my sister, best friend, and assorted Michigan extended family. Sweet.

Note to self: Coming back from 5 days off BLOWS. As significant as that statement is, it seems impossible to forget but I always do! Augh. Caffeine on a Monday? Unheard of.

That's all folks.

2005-11-17T21:44:00.000-05:00

It's over. Not quite the end we had in mind, but not too shabby either. The Huntingtown Hurricanes were defeated by Centennial in 3 close games in the 3A State Championship match tonight. I am so proud of my girls and how they fought through the match...but in the end, we just couldn't overcome the powerful Eagles. It was a great season and the girls deserve all of the credit. They worked so very hard and put in a lot of heart.

Needless to say, I'm exhausted. It's been a long season...with many trials and tribulations. And hopefully, things will turn out for the best next year.

Note to self: Some remember whens from the season...
-telescope, pencil, CORN! -ladies, ladies, beautiful ladies -beach workouts, waves, and ocean city -core workout and the impossible move -hair ties -woo woo -tournaments at 2 am -the Broadneck match -team bonding part 1, 2, 3, ... I love you guys.

Gone til November

2005-11-01T20:45:00.000-05:00

I can't believe it is November. Where the hell did October go? Oh yeah, I was in a gym. My bad.

It is astonishing just how much a difference 1 hour can make. Fall back rocks because you get an extra hour to...well...sleep. But when that sun sets at friggin 6 pm, my body is definitely thinking it is much later than that. Driving home in the dark takes way longer!

Great times at the Currier's Halloween par-tay. Big ups to Angelina and Maddox, Queen Victoria, Tom and his kid, and, my personal fave, my Swedish Chef.

And a huge LAME to all the kids out there and their lack of Halloween costumes. Where I come from, you gotta have STYLE to get the good candy. Bring it.

Note to self: Lame costumes means more candy for the Vikster and T Unit. Sugar comas are hard to sleep off.

Odds and Ends.

2005-10-17T19:56:00.000-04:00

1) Rome is awesome. If you haven't watched it, you totally should. It's history visually and with graphic violence and sex. It just doesn't get any better than that (it sure beats reading it out of some dry History book).

2) On Demand rocks. I can't stay up to finish watching Rome because my sleep schedule sucks. SO watching the part I slept through the day after is hotter than my classroom on a sunny day.

3) 5 matches left in the regular season. Great Mills & Leonardtown this week; Calvert and Thomas Stone next week; Westlake the week after. The light at the end of the tunnel is getting LARGER. And the girls have been playing so much better since we introduced/made-up the plays last week. I'll take some shred of credit for that.

Note to self: Buffalo Chicken Dip. Own it. Taste it. Keep it on hand. Imagine: cream cheese, bleu cheese, chicken, Frank's Red Hot, mozzerella cheese. Melted & baked. MMMMM.