Preparing for Unemployment

So this year, my boss decided that instead of him writing a performance evaluation on each of us teachers, we should write it ourselves. In essence, the one opportunity I have to be given criticism that could be helpful to me, is now gone. Here is the evaluation I wrote on myself: (By the way, does anyone have any leads on open positions for smart-ass middle school teachers?)

Observation of Classroom Practice (required annually): I think I am a pretty spectacular teacher. I work hard to make sure that I am never neglecting math nor drama. That being said, I feel that it is not possible to split me in half and expect an outcome to be wholly spectacular. People tell me I am doing well in two departments, but the truth is that if I was able to teach only one subject, the outcome would be nothing less than miraculous.  I carry a Wonder Woman backpack for a reason. My goal in life is to improve kids’ lives, whether it be through helping them discover a talent they never knew they had or helping them discover the ability to conquer the fear of their most terrified subject. I know I rock, but I wish I could be given the chance to rock a little harder.

Kids need electives, they need help in math. Kids also need teachers who are getting enough sleep and have the opportunity to properly prepare for lessons, evaluate their work and respond to their concerns.  So why aren’t they getting this? If the answer is “budget,” I am going to lose it. I am going to finally fall all the way off my rocker. Most of us know what is best for kids: tons of good teachers and small enough classes so that kids get the opportunity to interact with those professionals. Instead, they get computers. Well, I’m sorry. If computers could teach kids then we’d all be unemployed.

            I feel this rant would end nicely with a metaphor. Being so involved in dramatic arts, I am a proficient juggler. This metaphor compares teaching to juggling. When a person begins to juggle, they are given scarves. Scarves stay afloat longer and are easy to grasp. The juggler then moves onto balls and pins. Once the juggler proves to be an expert, she is then told to juggle fire, chainsaws and other dangerous objects. An amazing juggler can throw and catch many different and terrifying objects at once, in a delicate, mid-air ballet. The juggler can only do this for so long before they reach exhaustion. Eventually, a chainsaw will fall and the juggler’s career (and femoral artery) will be cut short.

A Case of Synnonym Confusion

The counselors at my school are putting together a focus group of students to address some middle school issue or other. They sent around a questionnaire asking students if they would be interested in joining said focus group.

One of my students became immediately terrified and said "Why would we want to join one of those? Isn't that what Hitler did to the Jews?"

No, son. Those are called concentration camps.

The good news is I snapped.

Dead dads and shitty schedules made me very, very tired. Maybe it was just the dead dad that made my work life seem so shitty, but whatever caused it, I've been a terrible teacher for an entire semester. Teaching without passion is like drinking without getting drunk. There's just no point.

I would like to announce that the despression cloud has lifted. In a glorious display of sarcasm, anger and self-righteousness, my desire to live passionately returned. Last Friday I walked into my boss' office and (very loudly) announced that he had allowed his ego to superceed what was best for kids. I also added that his sloppy handling of school operations was not only unfair to students, but illegal. After my berrating monologue directed at my seated boss, I took a deep breath, felt the sweat that had pooled in various areas of my body and prepared to be told to quietly return to my room and be a team player. Instead, a look of panic fell upon is face and he... apologized.

I feel so alive.

Missed Conections

You: a hot, greasy McRib, slathered in BBQ sauce. The sun was glistening off the reflective surface of your billboard about a mile from my house. The caption next to you said "Missed me?"

Me: driving past you, finding myself jealous of the box of fries resting next to you. I did miss you, with all my heart. I'm fighting the urge to order you and gobble you right up, McRib. Why must you torture me? You are gone most of the year and then just show up around the holidays, expecting me to take you back? I haven't even seen you since last January. Just go McRib, it easier if I never see you again.

Children and Guns and Dr. Seuss

This week I received two pictures of my brother's children. The first was a beautiful nature shot of my niece and nephew, both under the age of ten, bundled in their winter coats, posed proudly next to two deer carcasses and the guns that killed them.

The second was all three of his kids. The oldest boy in a Cat in the Hat costume and his two little sisters dressed as Thing 1 and Thing 2. How adorable they were, and innocent looking. Then it occurred to me. If a child can look so harmless in a striped stovepipe hat and large bow tie, and also be capable of murdering a deer, then what else are they capable of?

Be careful this Halloween season, you don't know what these little creatures can do.

Whatever story your son is telling you, the truth is: he punched me.

It's so nice to meet you. Thank you so much for coming to your son's parent-teacher conference. I know we have never met, even though I had Stephen in class last year. I'd just like to say, no matter what your son has told you, he is the one who punched me in the mouth.

I'm sure he's at least mentioned the incident last year, but let me be clear: I did not bite your son's hand. I'm sure he will tell elaborate stories about how other students saw me bite him and how I called him a liar. Honestly, who are you going to believe? Some snot-faced kid who punches teachers in the mouth? Or me? Look at me, I'm like, a grown-up.

I'm sorry about having to tell you that your son is a liar, and prone to violence against educated women, but I think it's best that you know. I hope you are able to find him some help. He may need years of therapy to reprogram his obviously confused memory. How sad, I think he actually believes that I bit his hand and then lied about him punching me. Poor kid.

A Teacher's Funeral

Here's the deal. I know this guy who was a teacher at a school in my district. He was the drama teacher (like me) and did a lot of shows at the community theater (twinsies!). This guy was a really nice teacher guy, and honestly I didn't know him that well, but rather knew of him. Anyway, I thought it would be prudent for me to attend the memorial service and pay my respects, along with the rest of the theater community.

I show up and there are a lot of nicely dress kids there. "Wow," I thought, "How nice of them to pay their respects by showering and putting on clean clothes." During the service, lots of actors and other directors got up to memorialize this man's contributions to their lives and the community as a whole. Then the kids began to bravely, and tearfully, speak about their "favorite teacher." Their words were kind, and truthful and eloquent (for the most part.) As the audience sat in the theater and shed a few well-deserved tears, listening to children speak from their hearts, I was suddenly struck with a sobering thought: "What will the children say about me when I die?" Here are a few possibilities:

"She used to tell me to turn my face off."
"She fell a lot."
"Even when she threatened me with the pointiest part of her elbow, I knew she was kidding."
"One time she bit my hand." (I will argue, to my grave, that kid punched me in the mouth.)
"Sometimes we thought she might be possessed by some type of evil spirit."
"I remember how she used to say that the crushed soul was the most delicious part of the child."
"I'm pretty sure she wasn't a real teacher."
"She used singing as a torture device."
"I think she changed her name so often because she was running from the law."

I'm not saying that this sudden realization is going to make me change my teaching strategies, just that if I die, you might want to record what the children have to say. It could be entertaining.

I have a confession to make.

Hey Blog,
Listen. I know I have been kind of distant lately. I feel really bad about it. It's just that... I have something I need to tell you.

You know that when I started you, you were my only blog. I had a lot of emotions I needed to get out and enough time to spend with you. Remember when I used to update you nearly every day? Those were really good times.

Well, things have changed. I didn't want to tell you, but I know you've noticed my neglect. The thing is that I have another blog. Well, three actually. Two of them are for my classes at school, but I run them from the same account, so I guess they are twins. The other one is on my Avon website. I started them because I worked with them, and you weren't there. I know that sounds shallow, but they do things that you never have. My school blogs fulfill my needs during the day and the Avon blog just understands me and my beauty product issues.

So, I'm really sorry. I know you probably won't be able to trust me for a while. But I'm begging you, come back to Ike baby!

In the Old Days, I Was Not Old

I haven't blogged in over a week. I went to bed last night at 7:00 PM, after I watched most of an episode of Dr. Phil. What happened to me?

I'm buying night cream for wrinkles and making desperate phone calls to my hairdresser/sister because the gray hairs keep showing back up. Each time I look, the little silvery bastards are more organized and have become so daring as to appear in a perfect little boot camp line along my part.

Two nights ago, I woke up to pee. TWICE.

The stand-up comedians on cable are becoming less and less hilarious, and I hear my mother's words pour out of my mouth "That's not funny, that's just rude."

So forgive me if the inevitable arrival of my 30th birthday is causing me to pop a xanax and rant about some flawed political system or other. I've got to let the stress out somehow, and doing a keg stand with a beer bong on the side just doesn't seem to do anymore.

You Expect Me to do WHAT?

I'm sorry. Excuse me? I'm a little unclear as to precisely what you want me to do. See, I'm incredibly busy right now. I'm not sure how you think I have to time to "return to work." Yes, I understand I signed a contract that indentures me to another year of servitude in the educational system, but I'm just not sure I'll be able to fit educating into my really packed schedule.

See, I already have a pretty full day as it is. I wake up and check my e-mail right about the time your bell rings. I mean, I don't usually take a shower until ten or 11 o'clock. Then I get back on the computer and blog, or read blogs for a while, then it's youtube and Facebook for at least two or three hours a day. I can't even get to youtube or Facebook at work because the web filter blocks them, so multitasking is out of the question.

I'm also confused because I watch 5-6 episodes of Hoarders, Intervention, Toddlers & Tiaras, House or NCIS every day, and there is no cable connection in any of my classrooms.

Also, there is no way all those kids would let me get any rest during my usual nap time either, so even if I did bring my little couch from home it would be totally useless. I can't be expected to miss my nap, I'm pretty sure that's an ADA law or something.

So, yeah. If you can come up with a way for me to take care of all my necessities and do this precious work you keep talking about, let me know. Really. I'm totally open to suggestions.

Crusader Promises Bloodbath

8.3.11

Cancer Crusader, Jordan Dlask vows eternal alliance of  Crusaders and Vikings in an all-out, 50 mile walking war against all cancer pirates. In a show of solidarity and honor, Dlask inscribed the name of Gary Richardson, King of the Vikings on his Crusading Cape. He will be walking this Friday, August 5th, in a lap-by-lap pirate slaughter. If you wish to support him verbally or monetarily, visit http://main.acsevents.org/site/TR/RelayForLife/RFLFY11GW?px=22368700&pg=personal&fr_id=34020

As of press time, there was no contact with the Unicorns, but it can be assumed they are also an Allied Force. The Ninjas have yet to choose a side.

I know this is like way off topic...

... but does anyone remember what Black Snake Moan was about? I know it had Samuel L. Jackson and Christina Ricci, but what the eff was it about? All I remember is the part where she's in a half shirt and panties and he's got her chained to an engine block. Oh, and it's in the South. Duh! Samuel L. Jackson.

You know, I'm pretty sure I never understood what that movie was about, so it's not that I don't remember, it's just that I don't get it.

OK, I also know that movie was from like 10 years ago and maybe I missed whatever conversations people had about it when it came out. But it has really been bugging me lately. I realize I could Netflix it and watch it again and try to figure it out, but from what I do recall, I'm pretty sure it would be a huge waste of time.

So, you know, whatever. Any insight you may have would be really great. Thanks!

Cat Food, Meat Tenderizer, Air Fresheners

These were the contents of my shopping cart at Target last night. A large bag of cat food, a meat tenderizing hammer (special care taken that it is the dishwasher safe model) and two 2-pack air fresheners. That's four air fresheners. As I exited the retail market, a number of possible newspaper headlines ran through my mind:

Area Cat Owner has Stinky Home and Tough Meat

Lonely, Smelly Cat Lady Doesn't Like to Wash Kitchen Tools by Hand

Crazy Woman Lures Neighborhood Cats, Bludgeons Them, Hoards Carcasses, Police Alerted by Smell of Death and Fresh Waters

Huge Sale on Cat Food, Meat Tenderizers and Air Fresheners!

Local Chef Actually Cat-Person, Hid Tail Under Apron and Feline Odor with Plug-Ins

Meow Mix and Lavender Fragrance Theft at All Time High, Protect Your Goods!

Psychosis Often Begins with Over Analysis of Personal Retail Purchases

Thanks, Amy Winehouse

No, really. Thanks. I appreciate it. Your death has, once again, reminded me that I am already too old to die at the age of 27. Not only that, since you died, I have been reflecting seriously on our lives and when I compared them, I realized:

1) Neither of my two albums ever won a Grammy.
2) I don't have a soulful command of jazz music even though I'm white and Jewish.
3) The gigantic pile of mess on my head isn't an original, eccentric beehive hairdo. I just need to brush my hair.
4) When I stumble out of a bar with my bra showing, TMZ doesn't show up and no one is fascinated by my lifestyle, it's just sad.
5) Your tattoos scream "Bad Ass Hellcat," mine say "I got this little shamrock with my sister..."
6) When I went to rehab, there were no incredibly catchy songs about it on the radio.
7) When you died, millions of people mourned talent gone too soon. When I die, tens of people will hope they can get the funeral over with soon.

So thanks again for rubbing your post-mortem superiority in my face, and if you see Heath Ledger, tell him I'm still pretty pissed about that whole "Overdose/Dark Knight" thing. That was just tasteless grandstanding, in my opinion.

This Would be Upsetting if I Didn't Write It

http://lascruces.en.craigslist.org/cto/2506932616.html

Reality TV Star Laments People not Knowing Her "For Reals"

7.20.11

Hollywood, CA -- During filming of her Lifetime Television reality series, Paris Hilton complained to some other skinny blond girl about people not knowing the real her, in what can only be described as the most annoyingly nasal voice ever caught on digital media.

"It's like, people don't know who I really am, and stuff" Hilton said, "They don't even know what I do," she continued after a day of acupuncture, driving around in a really expensive pink car, eating at restaurants with tiny tables and doing voice-overs to narrate aforementioned actions.

The two thin blond girls talked some more about not being understood by the public after being offended by another blond girl who mentioned the infamous sex tape Hilton was seen in several years ago.

"I can't believe she even brought that up," Hilton told the skinny blond girl who was still her friend, right before Hilton's voice over changed topic to her current pregnancy scare.

The rest of the episode Paris Hilton spent laying in her bed, telling her current boyfriend how angry it makes her when the media says she looks fat and how that made her think she was pregnant. "I'm a business woman" Hilton concluded, "I'm just not sure that a big stomach really matches my brand, so I don't know what I would do if I was pregnant."

The episode ended with the star taking the pregnancy test, since "looking fat, according to bloggers and paparazzi" and "that outfit not fitting in Spain" are two of the top symptoms of pregnancy. The new boyfriend mistakenly proposes marriage before the results are revealed, but then takes the offer back and suggests they go for a jog instead, once it is discovered she has only gained a few pounds, rather than become pregnant.

In the end, our heroine learned that if she wants people to know the real her, she must listen to her own instincts and stay true to... Wait, no. She doesn't learn anything.

Today Was a Good Day

Spending hours mindlessly reading Craigslist adds has finally paid off.

http://lascruces.en.craigslist.org/rnr/2443391920.html

Are You from the Future?

If you answer "yes" to any of these questions, you might be from the future.

1. Do you drive a DeLorean?
2. Do you constantly find yourself trying to return to October 26, 1985?
3. Are you half naked, riding in Bruce Willis' taxi right now?
4. Is your Soylent Green made of people?
5. Are you currently hunting genetically engineered humanoid robots through dystopian Los Angeles?
6. Are you the founder of the Army of the Twelve Monkeys?
7. Is Big Brother watching you?
8. Are these the droids you are looking for?
9. Is it your duty, as a fireman, to burn all the books in your society?
10. Have apes replaced humans as the dominant life form on your planet?
11. Is your palm flower / lifeclock blinking, hence indicating your time for voluntary execution?
12. Do your mashed potatoes "mean something"?
13. Ewww, did an alien just burst from your chest?
14. Are you a software engineer digitally transported into the mainframe of your employer's computer?
15. Is Drew Barrymore your little sister and are you hiding a deformed midget from the government?
16. Did you intend to travel through time but accidentally become a fly?
17. Are you Will Smith? Because Will Smith is from the future, a lot.
18. Did your on-board computer just alert you of danger, Will Robinson?
19. Is there an asteroid headed toward you, right now?
20. Did Keanu Reeves just tell you he "knows kung fu"?

Keep in mind that this is simply an evaluation tool to help you determine if you have future-like symptoms. If you think you are futuristic or may be going back to the future, contact Doc Brown immediately.

When I say Harry,

You say:

For Your Reacting Convenience:

A brand new element had been added to my blog beneath each post. There are three choices after the phrase "I was all" and they are: "Ahahaha!", "What?!?" and "Sad Face". Please feel free to react to my posts using these highly simple responses by clicking on the boxes next to each reaction. It is far easier than formulating an opinion and actually writing a response. It lets me know that my, shall I call it an organized readership? is still out there. No pressure.