ADHD Personified...That's Me
1 Comments Published by Kimmah on Sunday, November 01, 2009 at 4:03 PM.
We have two alarm systems at school--one for the high school and one for the middle school. I hate the middle school alarm--it takes FOREVER--and I don't know the code, so I have to use my cheat sheet. I got to work today and turned off the high school alarm as usual and went to my room to get my m.s. code. Well, that was a doomed attempt. As soon as I walked in to my room, I was assaulted by the piles upon piles of stuff that had to be dealt with--Halloween stuff everywhere, craft stuff out from mask projects in elementary school classes...just overwhelming. Soooo, I forgot to get the code and turn off the alarm.
Unless someone goes into the m.s., this isn't an issue, but naturally this was the day that I decided to go unpack a box of novels that I've had about a month just sitting in the floor. And they go in the book room in the m.s., so off I go to unpack. Never even thought about the silent alarm alerting sonitrol, who in turn notified the sheriff's departmet, who in turn notified the principal. My first sign that something was amiss was Mrs. Cook peering into my classroom and asking Jay if he'd been out in the middle school. As soon as she said it, I knew what I'd done. Talk about embarrassing. Then I had to explain to the deputy that I'm an idiot.
So, this week, I will be memorizing the middle school alarm code to avoid further incident. In all my spare time, of course.
Unless someone goes into the m.s., this isn't an issue, but naturally this was the day that I decided to go unpack a box of novels that I've had about a month just sitting in the floor. And they go in the book room in the m.s., so off I go to unpack. Never even thought about the silent alarm alerting sonitrol, who in turn notified the sheriff's departmet, who in turn notified the principal. My first sign that something was amiss was Mrs. Cook peering into my classroom and asking Jay if he'd been out in the middle school. As soon as she said it, I knew what I'd done. Talk about embarrassing. Then I had to explain to the deputy that I'm an idiot.
So, this week, I will be memorizing the middle school alarm code to avoid further incident. In all my spare time, of course.
Labels: dumb shit I do, work stuff
I teach 6th grade Creative Dramatics, which usually involves having class in our huge theater where we can get up and move around. No such luck today. We're having to watch a video because we were booted from the theater because of D.A.R.E. graduation. My room is not really large enough for 30 6th graders--I only have 26 desks, so some have to sit in chairs. Anyway, here's a real time update of our day today:
8:00--come in the room and find a seat. Fight over who gets to sit in a chair. There is one desk left and two girls who want to sit together. Neither wants to sit in the desk. They stare at it as if it is magically going to split in two. Needless to say it doesn't, so I have to order one of them to go sit in a chair and leave her bosom friend behind. Tragic.
8:03--everyone is seated. "Why aren't we in the theater?" "Can we go watch D.A.R.E?". etc.
8:05-I tell them they have two choices: Watch a movie--Night at the Museum--or we'll do a report on Shakespeare. "Who is Shakespeare?". "Can we get extra credit?" "What if we want to do both?" "Can I get a drink of water?"
8:07--Movie in and on. Chaos ensues. So-and-so can't see because of X (person, position, angle, height). Much moving and shuffling ensues. Very loud kid in back asks me who is on my poster--it's Humphrey Bogart in Casablanca--so I tell him and immediately have to point out that he did NOT play Inspector Gadget. Loud kid is moved to the front table.
8:09--other kid at the front table is in my office chair with broken arm rests and pretends to be wounded from sharp plastic. I suggest he move, and he's suddenly healed.
8:10-movie starts
8:13--I take up a note from my repeat note offender.
8:16-small scuffle breaks out between the two table boys because the 1st kid is pretending that the piece of arm rest is a pet and he won't let the other kid pet it. Seriously. Sixth graders. I kid you not.
8:19--"Can we skip the beginning and just get to the good parts?"
8:20--one kid is playing with his hair another is kicking a table leg.
8:25--I turn off the rest of the lights.
8:29--random discussions about decapitation, why a skeleton can drink, people's favorite part coming up as he gets off an elevator and runs in a room with Lewis and Clark and the Civil War.
8:35-tremendous laughter when there is monkey pee. Really, who doesn't laugh at monkey pee, though.
8:39-have to tell the girls to quit whispering
8:40-have to have one girl move because she doesn't understand "don't talk"
8:43-one kid is cold.
8:44--two more are cold. and another.
8:43-one more cold, one is hot and one girl likes my eyeshadow. I drag out my pliers to turn on the heat.
8:45-random plot questions
8:47--I see some kid doing a weird hand signal that involves him sucking on his fingers and pointing at another boy (whose mother I taught in 1995. I'm OLD).
8:48-room is unbearably hot, so off goes the heat.
8:48.5-girl with a history of major grand mal seizures gets down in the floor beside her desk and nearly gives me a heart attack. She just wanted to be more comfortable watching the video
8:50-random humming from unknown source
8:51-another kid is doing the finger wiggling move, so it obviously means something more. and yes, it is, a third kid (boy with the pet armrest) is doing it back. I have to fuss and it stops.
8:52-chatty girls redux
8:53--or does it? sheesh. TREVOR, PUT YOUR HANDS DOWN.
8:54--drumming again. LANE, STOP IT!.
8:55-time to wrap up. Frankly, it's easier to have a " real class"
8:00--come in the room and find a seat. Fight over who gets to sit in a chair. There is one desk left and two girls who want to sit together. Neither wants to sit in the desk. They stare at it as if it is magically going to split in two. Needless to say it doesn't, so I have to order one of them to go sit in a chair and leave her bosom friend behind. Tragic.
8:03--everyone is seated. "Why aren't we in the theater?" "Can we go watch D.A.R.E?". etc.
8:05-I tell them they have two choices: Watch a movie--Night at the Museum--or we'll do a report on Shakespeare. "Who is Shakespeare?". "Can we get extra credit?" "What if we want to do both?" "Can I get a drink of water?"
8:07--Movie in and on. Chaos ensues. So-and-so can't see because of X (person, position, angle, height). Much moving and shuffling ensues. Very loud kid in back asks me who is on my poster--it's Humphrey Bogart in Casablanca--so I tell him and immediately have to point out that he did NOT play Inspector Gadget. Loud kid is moved to the front table.
8:09--other kid at the front table is in my office chair with broken arm rests and pretends to be wounded from sharp plastic. I suggest he move, and he's suddenly healed.
8:10-movie starts
8:13--I take up a note from my repeat note offender.
8:16-small scuffle breaks out between the two table boys because the 1st kid is pretending that the piece of arm rest is a pet and he won't let the other kid pet it. Seriously. Sixth graders. I kid you not.
8:19--"Can we skip the beginning and just get to the good parts?"
8:20--one kid is playing with his hair another is kicking a table leg.
8:25--I turn off the rest of the lights.
8:29--random discussions about decapitation, why a skeleton can drink, people's favorite part coming up as he gets off an elevator and runs in a room with Lewis and Clark and the Civil War.
8:35-tremendous laughter when there is monkey pee. Really, who doesn't laugh at monkey pee, though.
8:39-have to tell the girls to quit whispering
8:40-have to have one girl move because she doesn't understand "don't talk"
8:43-one kid is cold.
8:44--two more are cold. and another.
8:43-one more cold, one is hot and one girl likes my eyeshadow. I drag out my pliers to turn on the heat.
8:45-random plot questions
8:47--I see some kid doing a weird hand signal that involves him sucking on his fingers and pointing at another boy (whose mother I taught in 1995. I'm OLD).
8:48-room is unbearably hot, so off goes the heat.
8:48.5-girl with a history of major grand mal seizures gets down in the floor beside her desk and nearly gives me a heart attack. She just wanted to be more comfortable watching the video
8:50-random humming from unknown source
8:51-another kid is doing the finger wiggling move, so it obviously means something more. and yes, it is, a third kid (boy with the pet armrest) is doing it back. I have to fuss and it stops.
8:52-chatty girls redux
8:53--or does it? sheesh. TREVOR, PUT YOUR HANDS DOWN.
8:54--drumming again. LANE, STOP IT!.
8:55-time to wrap up. Frankly, it's easier to have a " real class"
Labels: work stuff
Will post something brilliant or witty or insightful later. For now, I must go be professionally developed to better prepare me for what I am determined will be the best school year ever.
Have a lovely Monday and go blog to amuse me.
Ta ta!!
Have a lovely Monday and go blog to amuse me.
Ta ta!!
Labels: work stuff
I'm Still Not Dead..But I May Kill Someone
0 Comments Published by Kimmah on Thursday, May 08, 2008 at 7:50 PM.
It was a funky, mystery virus. The bloodwork didn't pick up anything except that I have evidently had parvo in the past---wouldn't you know it? I have had the dog disease. How typical. My blood sugar was really low--64 at around 4 in the afternoon after a full day of eating. I have to keep an eye on that and watch my carbs and such because when I eat them it causes my blood sugar to spike and then drop way too low.
Enough of the boring health shit. Who am I going to kill? Well, there's a fairly long list comprised almost exclusively of senior boys. I cannot wait for this year to be over. I've done it to myself--I've let them play around and we joke and really have a very good relationship as far as teacher-senior goes. But because they are 17/18 and male, they can't self-monitor, so I give a foot or two and they take a frigging mile and a half. I totally lost it today and told them exactly what I thought. I yelled, which I rarely do, and I told them I was tired of them acting like jerks and being rude and most of all talking while I was trying to explain something. It was the quietest the room had been all semester. Of course that made them a bit subdued (to say the least), so I had to really work the room in order to get them back on track. On the plus side, two of them apologized for their mouthiness and we did laugh a lot while they were doing their improv scenes. It's just time for them to graduate. As one of the guys said, I've had them in class for at least an hour and a half a day all school year and 11 of them I've had for three hours a day since January. That is enough to make anyone crazy.
I love my job, but I could never do it if there wasn't a generous summer break.
Enough of the boring health shit. Who am I going to kill? Well, there's a fairly long list comprised almost exclusively of senior boys. I cannot wait for this year to be over. I've done it to myself--I've let them play around and we joke and really have a very good relationship as far as teacher-senior goes. But because they are 17/18 and male, they can't self-monitor, so I give a foot or two and they take a frigging mile and a half. I totally lost it today and told them exactly what I thought. I yelled, which I rarely do, and I told them I was tired of them acting like jerks and being rude and most of all talking while I was trying to explain something. It was the quietest the room had been all semester. Of course that made them a bit subdued (to say the least), so I had to really work the room in order to get them back on track. On the plus side, two of them apologized for their mouthiness and we did laugh a lot while they were doing their improv scenes. It's just time for them to graduate. As one of the guys said, I've had them in class for at least an hour and a half a day all school year and 11 of them I've had for three hours a day since January. That is enough to make anyone crazy.
I love my job, but I could never do it if there wasn't a generous summer break.
Labels: health, teaching, work stuff
Sweet Jesus, if I make it through this year alive it will be a miracle.
I ran in my really high heels today...we were playing Duck, Duck, Goose (don't ask...Tennessee requires physical movement of high schoolers) and I discovered that I can't corner very well in them. Despite all of the potential ways that I could have rendered myself cripple, THAT did not cause my injury.
Changing a light bulb did.
We were putting new bulbs* in some fixtures in the theater. This requires the climbing of a 25 foot ladder, thankyouverymuch. I have never gone more than 12 feet or so up it...I just get queasy when I'm on a ladder, but Isaac didn't know how to change these bulbs and I've never actually done it, either, so I figured that I might as well suck it up and just conquer my fears (as Sam would say) and headed up said ladder to help Isaac figure out how to change the bulb. We'd already done the 1000 watt fixtures. This was a mere 500. Smaller bulb, same mechanism.
The bulbs are halogen, so you can't touch them with your skin--have to have them wrapped in foam. I was about two feet below Isaac on the other side of the ladder making sure he didn't have trouble. As he was putting the bulb in, I said, "Make sure it's turned off." Someone went to the light board to check it, but before they had it off, he put the bulb in.
500 watts + foam=smoke.
He yelled, "Turn it off!" about the time the smoke started billowing out of the socket. He jerked his hand back because he'd been holding the foam, which melted. I was looking up the whole time and the hot, partially melted foam came straight down and landed on my face...the melty part concentrating itself on my eye. Thankfully, it was on the inner corner and up closer to my eyebrow. At first I thought it had burned my entire eyelid.
Picture this if you will: Me, standing on a 25 foot ladder--about 23 feet or so in the air. Wearing 4" wedge heels (yeah, this was a terrible idea and will never be repeated). With smoking hot foam in my face. I? Did not say a curse word. You can rest assured that I thought one, though.
I batted the stupid foam to the floor and Isaac and I both recovered on the ladder before trying to go down. He was insistant that he get the thing put back together before we stopped, so we got it. I held my eye closed the whole time. I told some girls to go get me a 'piece of ice'.
As I was climbing down the ladder, I saw Taylor burst through the door with a sack of ice you could have cooled a keg in. It was quite funny. I took a piece out and made Isaac use it for his thumb. Minor burn, no blister at the time. Hopefully he'll be well.
Foam smells to high heaven when it burns, ftr.
I have a reddish spot on my eye--not bad. It's still uncomfortable, but not painful really. I am just glad I cut my hair...my old bangs would probably have gone up in smoke.
*for theater-types, I know that the bulbs are really called lamps. It's just less confusing this way.
I ran in my really high heels today...we were playing Duck, Duck, Goose (don't ask...Tennessee requires physical movement of high schoolers) and I discovered that I can't corner very well in them. Despite all of the potential ways that I could have rendered myself cripple, THAT did not cause my injury.
Changing a light bulb did.
We were putting new bulbs* in some fixtures in the theater. This requires the climbing of a 25 foot ladder, thankyouverymuch. I have never gone more than 12 feet or so up it...I just get queasy when I'm on a ladder, but Isaac didn't know how to change these bulbs and I've never actually done it, either, so I figured that I might as well suck it up and just conquer my fears (as Sam would say) and headed up said ladder to help Isaac figure out how to change the bulb. We'd already done the 1000 watt fixtures. This was a mere 500. Smaller bulb, same mechanism.
The bulbs are halogen, so you can't touch them with your skin--have to have them wrapped in foam. I was about two feet below Isaac on the other side of the ladder making sure he didn't have trouble. As he was putting the bulb in, I said, "Make sure it's turned off." Someone went to the light board to check it, but before they had it off, he put the bulb in.
500 watts + foam=smoke.
He yelled, "Turn it off!" about the time the smoke started billowing out of the socket. He jerked his hand back because he'd been holding the foam, which melted. I was looking up the whole time and the hot, partially melted foam came straight down and landed on my face...the melty part concentrating itself on my eye. Thankfully, it was on the inner corner and up closer to my eyebrow. At first I thought it had burned my entire eyelid.
Picture this if you will: Me, standing on a 25 foot ladder--about 23 feet or so in the air. Wearing 4" wedge heels (yeah, this was a terrible idea and will never be repeated). With smoking hot foam in my face. I? Did not say a curse word. You can rest assured that I thought one, though.
I batted the stupid foam to the floor and Isaac and I both recovered on the ladder before trying to go down. He was insistant that he get the thing put back together before we stopped, so we got it. I held my eye closed the whole time. I told some girls to go get me a 'piece of ice'.
As I was climbing down the ladder, I saw Taylor burst through the door with a sack of ice you could have cooled a keg in. It was quite funny. I took a piece out and made Isaac use it for his thumb. Minor burn, no blister at the time. Hopefully he'll be well.
Foam smells to high heaven when it burns, ftr.
I have a reddish spot on my eye--not bad. It's still uncomfortable, but not painful really. I am just glad I cut my hair...my old bangs would probably have gone up in smoke.
*for theater-types, I know that the bulbs are really called lamps. It's just less confusing this way.
Labels: dumb shit I do, pain in general, teaching, work stuff
One of my favorite senior boys showed up at school with a shirt that had a big cartoon Earth on it and some wording that started with Keep...I just assumed it was some free Earth day promo tee and didn't pay it much attention for the first part of class. As we were leaving lunch, though, I noticed that there was a smaller, brown 'planet' and suddenly the rest of the text jumped out at me like a beacon. Turns out that it was from Hot Topic, not a tree-hugger and said:
Keep Earth clean...it's not URANUS.
I love my job.
Labels: funny kids, work stuff
1.We have mice in our sunroom. I was freaked out several times yesterday. Now I'm just annoyed. Mousetraps freak me out and W. is working all day today. He told me to have Five deal with the catch, but I can't even set the damn thing. *shudder*
2. I'm suddenly freakishly addicted to eating biscuit dough. WTF this came from I have no idea. Probably some vitamin deficiency or something (how that can be, I have no idea since I eat such a healthy, balanced diet of bagels, popcorn, swiss cheese and grilled chicken I have no idea).
3. In a probably-not-unrelated note, I had to pull out my 'fat' jeans Friday. Pissed me the fuck off like you cannot imagine. Did I go work out? No. I ordered a chicken sandwich combo and chocolate chip cookie dough pie at Burger King. I did give away the drink. most of the fries and half the sandwich to people (thank you, John, for saving me from the sandwich). The pie? I ate the whole damn thing myself. It is a little slice of heave loaded with high fructose corn syrup, xanthan gum (no, I don't know what that is), white flour and up to 2% choclate liquor. Buy it. Eat it. Live it.
4. I do not like the way the tanning bed smells. Every tanning bed smells the same...is it the scent of cooking flesh? I know it is unhealthy. I know this, but I have tried the tanning lotions and just don't like them. I like to be tan. I'm vain in my old age. I can't help it. I don't have the pretty porcelain (I can't spell for jack) skin that some pale people do. I have the pasty, shut-in look instead.
5. Saturday School was a colassal waste of my time--I didn't do anything useful until the last hour, when I cleaned up my classroom.
6. I'm tired of television.
7. I've also read the entire internet this weekend. Am bored shitless this morning and too cold and sore (my back is going to be the death of me) to do anything productive at home.
8. I need a new hairstyle. I'm trying curly this weekend. I might take pics and get feedback.
9. Am skipping the prom for the Cornbread Festival this year. I think this officially makes me a redneck nerd.
10. I am more than ready for school to be DONE. I have to proctor TCAPS four days next week, which means no planning period for me for those four days. Thank God I stocked up on books. I will have six hours that I am forced to sit in a room and look around every fifteen minutes or so. I didn't grade yesterday because I decided to save it for that time.
2. I'm suddenly freakishly addicted to eating biscuit dough. WTF this came from I have no idea. Probably some vitamin deficiency or something (how that can be, I have no idea since I eat such a healthy, balanced diet of bagels, popcorn, swiss cheese and grilled chicken I have no idea).
3. In a probably-not-unrelated note, I had to pull out my 'fat' jeans Friday. Pissed me the fuck off like you cannot imagine. Did I go work out? No. I ordered a chicken sandwich combo and chocolate chip cookie dough pie at Burger King. I did give away the drink. most of the fries and half the sandwich to people (thank you, John, for saving me from the sandwich). The pie? I ate the whole damn thing myself. It is a little slice of heave loaded with high fructose corn syrup, xanthan gum (no, I don't know what that is), white flour and up to 2% choclate liquor. Buy it. Eat it. Live it.
4. I do not like the way the tanning bed smells. Every tanning bed smells the same...is it the scent of cooking flesh? I know it is unhealthy. I know this, but I have tried the tanning lotions and just don't like them. I like to be tan. I'm vain in my old age. I can't help it. I don't have the pretty porcelain (I can't spell for jack) skin that some pale people do. I have the pasty, shut-in look instead.
5. Saturday School was a colassal waste of my time--I didn't do anything useful until the last hour, when I cleaned up my classroom.
6. I'm tired of television.
7. I've also read the entire internet this weekend. Am bored shitless this morning and too cold and sore (my back is going to be the death of me) to do anything productive at home.
8. I need a new hairstyle. I'm trying curly this weekend. I might take pics and get feedback.
9. Am skipping the prom for the Cornbread Festival this year. I think this officially makes me a redneck nerd.
10. I am more than ready for school to be DONE. I have to proctor TCAPS four days next week, which means no planning period for me for those four days. Thank God I stocked up on books. I will have six hours that I am forced to sit in a room and look around every fifteen minutes or so. I didn't grade yesterday because I decided to save it for that time.
Labels: fat chick stuff, hair stuff, who doesn't love a list, work stuff
I'm glad the holidays are officially over. From Thanksgiving thru Easter there seem to be a million different reasons to eat candy and other junk food. Now it has all passed. Fourth of July candy doesn't really appeal to me, lol.
It's Spring Break, but I'm working a few hours each day Monday-Thursday. The kids have lots of things going on this week and we'll be fairly crazed leading up to our trip to Chatt. I'm hoping I can just get my act together and get some things done house-wise. That's the plan, anyway.
It's Spring Break, but I'm working a few hours each day Monday-Thursday. The kids have lots of things going on this week and we'll be fairly crazed leading up to our trip to Chatt. I'm hoping I can just get my act together and get some things done house-wise. That's the plan, anyway.
Labels: ramble, work stuff
Tomorrow is the first day back to work after Christmas break. It's a teacher work day, which is a great thing, but I'm only going in for a few hours and then I'm going to be homebound until Monday. I'm staying home to let the knee get a little bit better before I take a chance on going to work for a long day. I have my disability insurance, which will pay me for the days, so I decided to take it easy and not strain the knee. It's still looking pretty nasty and I don't go back to the doctor until Thursday.
I've got a lot of stuff to do around the house, so hopefully I'll be able to get a few things done without my three helpers under foot. For now, I'm going to sit around and watch some more Law and Order marathon on TNT and enjoy mynew flannel jammies, cozy slippers and fabulous down throw. I had a very lovely Christmas.
I've got a lot of stuff to do around the house, so hopefully I'll be able to get a few things done without my three helpers under foot. For now, I'm going to sit around and watch some more Law and Order marathon on TNT and enjoy mynew flannel jammies, cozy slippers and fabulous down throw. I had a very lovely Christmas.
Labels: holidays, ramble, work stuff
new school year=time to start from scratch:
1. i colored my hair today and did not use anything from the red family--i went with biscotti, which is dark blonde and a cool tone. i'm not sure i like it--it's not that dramatically different, really, just no red tones, but i think it's a bit ashy or cool for my skin. i'm going to give it a couple of weeks and then assess. i'd like to go lighter and blonder--not blonde, really--so i figured i'd just work my way there slowly. now i'm thinking i really do like the red, so who knows.
2. my desk is CLEAN. i can walk in my classroom and see the top of my desk, i can find pens and pencils and i can put my hands on files. it's my new promise to myself--clean desk at the end of every day. we'll see how long this one lasts.
3. i have faculty meetings every monday. by the end of this semester, i think we'll have had more meetings than i've had to attend in the previous 12 years. i'm okay with it, though, because they will actually have a purpose and we'll have goals. what a concept.
4. on a not as pleasant note--our teacher handbook says we can wear jeans on friday with a school shirt or school colors. um. no thank you. i do not want to be limited to school color stuff with my jeans--our school colors are black and gold. yucko. i also have a little bit of an issue with the idea that jeans cannot be 'professional dress' yet knit pants and top sets that essentially look like pajamas would be acceptable. i'm pretty sure that i'm going to wear jeans with whatever i feel like and see if anything is said and then make my argument. part of me thinks that the policy is just a holdover from the past regime and no one ever enforced it then, so i should be okay. technically, i don't think the principal can restrict jeans because it is a contract issue, so i'm hopeful that i will not be relegated to wearing wildcat crap if i want to wear denim.
5. w. has been admitted to the nursing program for the fall, so he'll be quite the busy guy and i'm going to really have to come out of my lazy mode and pick up the slack. i've gotten very spoiled having him around as needed on his own schedule to deal with whatever came along. 18 months from now, though. he should be looking for a job, so it's definitely worth it.
crazy week over and crazy one approaching---i'll be around more, though, i hope. the balancing act begins.
1. i colored my hair today and did not use anything from the red family--i went with biscotti, which is dark blonde and a cool tone. i'm not sure i like it--it's not that dramatically different, really, just no red tones, but i think it's a bit ashy or cool for my skin. i'm going to give it a couple of weeks and then assess. i'd like to go lighter and blonder--not blonde, really--so i figured i'd just work my way there slowly. now i'm thinking i really do like the red, so who knows.
2. my desk is CLEAN. i can walk in my classroom and see the top of my desk, i can find pens and pencils and i can put my hands on files. it's my new promise to myself--clean desk at the end of every day. we'll see how long this one lasts.
3. i have faculty meetings every monday. by the end of this semester, i think we'll have had more meetings than i've had to attend in the previous 12 years. i'm okay with it, though, because they will actually have a purpose and we'll have goals. what a concept.
4. on a not as pleasant note--our teacher handbook says we can wear jeans on friday with a school shirt or school colors. um. no thank you. i do not want to be limited to school color stuff with my jeans--our school colors are black and gold. yucko. i also have a little bit of an issue with the idea that jeans cannot be 'professional dress' yet knit pants and top sets that essentially look like pajamas would be acceptable. i'm pretty sure that i'm going to wear jeans with whatever i feel like and see if anything is said and then make my argument. part of me thinks that the policy is just a holdover from the past regime and no one ever enforced it then, so i should be okay. technically, i don't think the principal can restrict jeans because it is a contract issue, so i'm hopeful that i will not be relegated to wearing wildcat crap if i want to wear denim.
5. w. has been admitted to the nursing program for the fall, so he'll be quite the busy guy and i'm going to really have to come out of my lazy mode and pick up the slack. i've gotten very spoiled having him around as needed on his own schedule to deal with whatever came along. 18 months from now, though. he should be looking for a job, so it's definitely worth it.
crazy week over and crazy one approaching---i'll be around more, though, i hope. the balancing act begins.
Labels: fashion, hair stuff, mr kim, who doesn't love a list, work stuff
my brain is too fried to focus on one topic, so i'm just going to sort of release the pressure.
- school starts tomorrow and i have a small bitchy rant. i had the cutest outfit planned to wear for registration day--it's a short day for kids and i can change after they leave. i was going to wear my cute new skirt from target (susan knows the one) and a black tee and my favorite black wedges. very professional and cute and summery. on friday i found out that we are expected to wear a school t-shirt to make the faculty more visible. like i was going to get lost in a high school with less than 200 students? where i've taught for twelve years? where my homeroom students haven't changed from last year? where maaaaybe ten parents will show up in grades 9-12 and need to talk to a teacher? so, the cute outfit is scrapped and i get to wear a gray-tshirt with school crap on it (it's not even cute) and jeans. i don't have a clue what shoes to wear now--my tennies are brown, mywedges are too dressy, obviously, and old navy flip flops are almost too low and make me walk on my hem in the jeans. pisses me off.
- our internet is so slow, i swear dial-up would smoke past it. charter said it was probably the modem, so we bought a new modem. still creeping along at the speed of molasses. neither of us will be home this week, so who knows when we'll be able to get a service call. pisses me off, too. more than the clothes thing.
- some friends of ours are having marital problems--probably divorcing. i've never really understood how they ended up married in the first place. i've never known a couple that was so drastically and totally opposite. night/day and then some. do you think that opposites attract? i do, actually. i think there is something inherently interesting and exciting about connecting with someone for reasons other than the typical common interests or background, etc.; however, they are such an extreme that i can't even see where the common thread could have ever been.
- i love pringles. they have no nutritional value and aren't even real chips, but i enjoy them tremendously.
- i have spent entirely too much money and time on underwear lately. i am on a quest to find comfortable panties--i've tried several styles and i'm just NOT loving any of them: boy brief, hipster, low rise, low cut. i swear, what does it take to make a pair of underwear that doesn't hang out the top of my pants nor ride up my butt nor put seams in uncomfortable places? sheesh.
- i'm eagerly awaiting the new matt damon movie, the bourne ultimatum. i have been watching the bourne supremecy on dvr. i have the bourne identity on dvd. love matt damon and love the series. it will be a nice back-to-school treat for me.
- i do not have killer abs. i will never have killer abs. i go to a class called killer abs and i enjoy it muchly. it's futile, though, rather like banging one's head, or abs, against the wall, i suppose.
- i'm watching shark and tonight's episode is about a madam. i find it utterly ridiculous that prostitution is illegal.
- i need to color my hair. i have no idea what color i want to use--i'm sort of sick of the same old red. may do more blonde this time, just for the hell of it while i'm tan.
- do you have one person that you use as your 'confessor'? a person that you can tell anything without any qualms? other than a spouse or s.o., of course. i think everyone needs a friend like that. i feel very lucky.
- just to make it odd and get outside my comfort box, i'm going to add an 11. did you know that you can pre-order wheezy's book?
Labels: fashion, friends in general, physical exertion, relationships, television, who doesn't love a list, work stuff
back-to-school is upon me. i left home at 10 this morning and did not get back for good until 8.30--i did come home long enough to check on the boys and run to kroger for them something for dinner.
my classroom looked like a tornado had struck. it's unreal the mess--a combination of factors at play: 12 years of accumulated teacher crap, i'm a packrat, i didn't file stuff at the end of the year, the painters totally trashed my floors, all of my desks plus another teacher's were heaped in the middle of my room, of my 9 computers, only two were on their correct table/desk with nothing else on top of them, part of my furniture was pulled apart, literally, and i had to empty a cabinet and a bookshelf to deal with the damage, i had about eight boxes of other people's crap in my room, i threw stuff in piles when the rains came, so there is no rhyme or reason, i can't open my desk drawers...and so on.
but today, things are MUCH better. i could teach if i had to, albeit maneuvering around piles of things i can't really totally identify. i have a shitload of filing and sorting to do (the 'put it all in a box' method is NOT effective) and i have to hang up all of my posters, which in itself will take a couple of hours because i have dozens.
i shall post before and after pics to impress everyone with my teacherly devotion.
tomorrow, wednesday, is our last full day to hang out at the pool, so we're heading over there around 11 and may not return until they close at 7 if we're so inclined and not sunburned or too cranky. thursday, i return to work for teacherish meetings and the whole 'get ready to start the school year' deal. i've already planned to work late that night, so i'm hoping that i won't have to spend the entire weekend getting things ready. i have vowed that i will not start the year off with things crammed in corners or shoved under tables--i'm sooooo sick of the chaos. i need calm and order as i face the 33 seniors in my brit lit class this year. yes, 33. last year? i had 12. talk about a drastic change. oy.
my classroom looked like a tornado had struck. it's unreal the mess--a combination of factors at play: 12 years of accumulated teacher crap, i'm a packrat, i didn't file stuff at the end of the year, the painters totally trashed my floors, all of my desks plus another teacher's were heaped in the middle of my room, of my 9 computers, only two were on their correct table/desk with nothing else on top of them, part of my furniture was pulled apart, literally, and i had to empty a cabinet and a bookshelf to deal with the damage, i had about eight boxes of other people's crap in my room, i threw stuff in piles when the rains came, so there is no rhyme or reason, i can't open my desk drawers...and so on.
but today, things are MUCH better. i could teach if i had to, albeit maneuvering around piles of things i can't really totally identify. i have a shitload of filing and sorting to do (the 'put it all in a box' method is NOT effective) and i have to hang up all of my posters, which in itself will take a couple of hours because i have dozens.
i shall post before and after pics to impress everyone with my teacherly devotion.
tomorrow, wednesday, is our last full day to hang out at the pool, so we're heading over there around 11 and may not return until they close at 7 if we're so inclined and not sunburned or too cranky. thursday, i return to work for teacherish meetings and the whole 'get ready to start the school year' deal. i've already planned to work late that night, so i'm hoping that i won't have to spend the entire weekend getting things ready. i have vowed that i will not start the year off with things crammed in corners or shoved under tables--i'm sooooo sick of the chaos. i need calm and order as i face the 33 seniors in my brit lit class this year. yes, 33. last year? i had 12. talk about a drastic change. oy.
Labels: ramble, teaching, work stuff
1. i have one of THOSE zits that hurts like a mofo and is just sitting there, taunting me as it causes most of the left side of my face to throb. i'm 38. i should not be having zits still. it's not fair, dammit.
2. i've started running on the treadmill at the Y. i am so NOT graceful that it is ridiculous. these wee, lithe women sprint effortlessly and silently along on their treadmills while i give the impression that a herd of small african animals are charging toward the watering hole. maybe i need new shoes??? yes, that must be it.
3. my kids have a puking virus. sam started it and passed it to jay and then five. and of the three kids--sam is the super puker. he woke from a dead sleep and went straight to the bathroom, puked, got a drink, and went back to sleep. no huge drama, no vomit onthe floor. just did his thing. he's 6. jay? puked all over the sunroom carpet, which required us to rent a carpet cleaner. he's 8. five? he threw up in a bucket and then proceeded to bring the bucket outside to show me and w. while we were at the neighbors. and then, later, after he'd thrown up again and made such a ruckus i was sure an internal organ had been regurgitated, begged me to take him to the doctor because he 'obviously' had a life-threatening illness. yeah, whatever buddy. he's 14.
4. if i get the puke virus, i'm going to be pissed off if for no other reason because i ate a protein bar today (EAS Advant Edge carb control chocolate creme) which was 1.79 and i'll be pissed off if i throw it up without getting the 21g of protein.
5. today is five's birthday. i am simply not old enough to have a 14-year-old child. i have acne, for god's sake. where did the time go?
6. i wanted some sugar-free ice cream last night and my kroger didn't have any. wtf? i can get edy's sf butter pecan at walgreen's--everyone's source for ice cream products-- but KROGER doesn't carry it? so now i get to pay walgreen's prices if i want to eat it.
7. my classroom is the biggest wreck you can imagine. it is going to take days to straighten thanks to blind, illiterate prisoners who put our stuff back in our rooms after the floors were cleaned.
8. where are all of my socks? where, where, where.
9. i have yet another skort with hidden, mystery shorts. it's very comfy--goodwill, thank you, a liz claiborne. this one has a much more complicated entry, but it looks like a cute wrap around skirt when on. i need a tan t-shirt. i've been wearing white, but tan would look better.
10. jay is the whiniest child in the western hemisphere--8-year-olds annoy me.
2. i've started running on the treadmill at the Y. i am so NOT graceful that it is ridiculous. these wee, lithe women sprint effortlessly and silently along on their treadmills while i give the impression that a herd of small african animals are charging toward the watering hole. maybe i need new shoes??? yes, that must be it.
3. my kids have a puking virus. sam started it and passed it to jay and then five. and of the three kids--sam is the super puker. he woke from a dead sleep and went straight to the bathroom, puked, got a drink, and went back to sleep. no huge drama, no vomit onthe floor. just did his thing. he's 6. jay? puked all over the sunroom carpet, which required us to rent a carpet cleaner. he's 8. five? he threw up in a bucket and then proceeded to bring the bucket outside to show me and w. while we were at the neighbors. and then, later, after he'd thrown up again and made such a ruckus i was sure an internal organ had been regurgitated, begged me to take him to the doctor because he 'obviously' had a life-threatening illness. yeah, whatever buddy. he's 14.
4. if i get the puke virus, i'm going to be pissed off if for no other reason because i ate a protein bar today (EAS Advant Edge carb control chocolate creme) which was 1.79 and i'll be pissed off if i throw it up without getting the 21g of protein.
5. today is five's birthday. i am simply not old enough to have a 14-year-old child. i have acne, for god's sake. where did the time go?
6. i wanted some sugar-free ice cream last night and my kroger didn't have any. wtf? i can get edy's sf butter pecan at walgreen's--everyone's source for ice cream products-- but KROGER doesn't carry it? so now i get to pay walgreen's prices if i want to eat it.
7. my classroom is the biggest wreck you can imagine. it is going to take days to straighten thanks to blind, illiterate prisoners who put our stuff back in our rooms after the floors were cleaned.
8. where are all of my socks? where, where, where.
9. i have yet another skort with hidden, mystery shorts. it's very comfy--goodwill, thank you, a liz claiborne. this one has a much more complicated entry, but it looks like a cute wrap around skirt when on. i need a tan t-shirt. i've been wearing white, but tan would look better.
10. jay is the whiniest child in the western hemisphere--8-year-olds annoy me.
Labels: all the cool kids like Dweeze have blogs, inquiring minds, physical exertion, rant, vomit, who doesn't love a list, work stuff
- that's really all i got.
- the closer is about to premier. i love the closer.
- i missed the first epi of top chef: miami. pisses me off, stupid dvr and stupid digital cable that doesn't 'see' bravo for some effed up reason.
- i am thru with summer school as of today. going back down to work in my room for a bit tomorrow evening, but that's MY choice, no kids, my time. the way i like it.
- i am having surgery of the knee a week from tomorrow--at least i think it is. that's the 26th, right? i'm totally out of it.
- mr. kim is taking anatomy and physiology this summer---i've not felt so dumb in a long, long time as i did when i tried to help him review. me? not so much a science girl. i know, you're shocked.
- i forgot that once upon a time, i was almost a mod at OT. talk about a flashback--ayak posted about it and it was like, 'hey! that's me!!' and can i just say, the drama from that year? not the mod stuff, but the rest of it? gah. live and learn and become a better person.
- and may i also just add that based on a post sunday night that nearly sent me into frigging coronary arrest, i'm GLAD i don't have to watch my tone or worry about 'playing favorites' there as a mod. argh....flames and steam are shooting from my head right now.
- sam hs been having me 'act out scenes' with him on the digital camera. in this scene, he is 'tarzan' and i'm supposed to be alternately puzzled and then scared. i'm not sure WHAT his looks were, but they sure are cute.
Labels: funny kids, mr kim, ramble, teaching, work stuff
One week from today I will be preparing to don a lovely black robe and try not to look bored as our little darlings participate in commencement. One week and one day from now, I will be kicked back on my couch drinking wine and reveling in the fact that I don't have to look at more little darlings for two whole months. One week and two days from now, I'll try to post something remotely interesting and potentially meaningful or at least current.
End of the year kicks my ass every stinking year.
End of the year kicks my ass every stinking year.
Labels: my life, teaching, work stuff
I've gotten rather lax on the blogging thing lately. Not exactly sure why--I just can't seem to focus long enough to type something out that makes sense. Probably because things in real life are rather hectic. My list:
1. School--spring break is upon us and that means that kids are in antsy mode. It's always fun to try and pound sentence structure and comma splices into the heads of vacation-minded 15-year-old boys.
2. School pt. 2--it has suddenly turned into summer, despite the impending SPRING break and we've been treated to high temps ranging from 82-88 this week. Sounds great? Well, it might if we were in an air conditioned building during the day. As we are not, it is like some form of torture. There has been no discernible breeze, no relief of any kind from my ancient fan, and no hint of artifical coolant. My room is on the west side of the building with 6-foot windows to let in loads and loads of blistering heat just in time for my class of 35 juniors and seniors. Sweltering doesn't even come close to describing it--actually, if we could just swelter, we'd be happy.
3. School pt. 3--because it's the end of the year and I teach seniors, it's also field trip time. Normally this happens in April-May, but we've started early this year. The new quarter started March 9. Since that day, I have not yet had all of my students in my 4th block Theatre Arts class (the one with 35 kids) at school and in class at the same time. Not one day. My attendance book looks like some sort of weird modern heiroglyphics with all the absents, tardies, field trips, doctor's notes and other sundry markings. It's a nightmare. Today was our last day of class because we have an assembly tomorrow. On the day before Spring Break. Good thing I don't give grades on written work in there or I'd never get the make-ups done.
4. School pt. 4--I'm on the retirement-party-planning committees for TWO different teachers this spring. I've also agreed to plan a little something for another teacher's 50th birthday on Friday. I also have to sort out three days' worth of lesson plans before I leave on Friday. I also have to clean off my desk. I also have to turn in my grade verifications. I also have to stay at school until seven again tomorrow night for inservice and then spend all day Friday in meetings that are stupid and boring and useless to anything that I do for a living.
5. Vacation--I leave for London on April 9. Wooohooo! That's a good thing. I'll be back on April 19.
6. Vacation pt. 2--Before I leave I have to pack up clothes for the kids to take to my parents' house for a week. I also need to clean my house because it is gross.
7. Vacation pt. 3--I haven't even thought about starting to pack for myself yet and I don't have any decent walking shoes. Oh, and London is insane expensive and I have not saved one penny toward spending money. Not one red cent.
8. Life in general--all I seem to have time for is wake up, work, home to eat, Y, home to put kids to bed, read online for an hour, go to bed. Something has to give.
9. Stupid things--oh, I also have time to go to the tanning bed. Skin cancer is a terrible thing and some day I'm going to really be pissed off at myself; however, I have no plans to quit going until I am suitably browned. I usually don't mind being fashionably pale, but for some reason this year, it has bugged me. Maybe because summer started in March.
10. Pets--we have a chick named Austin. Sam brought it home from school--they kept eggs in an incubator. If Austin survives chickhood, it will be a miracle. A bloody miracle. Sam has picked him up two dozen times a day, he's carried him around the house and he's taken him out to play in the front yard. Poor Austin has been a trooper through it al. I'll be most relieved when he goes to live at the farm--which shouldn't be much longer because he's got an incredible vertical jump and he's going to leap out of his box any minute. He bangs his head on the books we have covering him for every so often.
I think that's it for now. I'm going to attempt to catch up on blog reading. I don't have much faith that I will get far, though.
1. School--spring break is upon us and that means that kids are in antsy mode. It's always fun to try and pound sentence structure and comma splices into the heads of vacation-minded 15-year-old boys.
2. School pt. 2--it has suddenly turned into summer, despite the impending SPRING break and we've been treated to high temps ranging from 82-88 this week. Sounds great? Well, it might if we were in an air conditioned building during the day. As we are not, it is like some form of torture. There has been no discernible breeze, no relief of any kind from my ancient fan, and no hint of artifical coolant. My room is on the west side of the building with 6-foot windows to let in loads and loads of blistering heat just in time for my class of 35 juniors and seniors. Sweltering doesn't even come close to describing it--actually, if we could just swelter, we'd be happy.
3. School pt. 3--because it's the end of the year and I teach seniors, it's also field trip time. Normally this happens in April-May, but we've started early this year. The new quarter started March 9. Since that day, I have not yet had all of my students in my 4th block Theatre Arts class (the one with 35 kids) at school and in class at the same time. Not one day. My attendance book looks like some sort of weird modern heiroglyphics with all the absents, tardies, field trips, doctor's notes and other sundry markings. It's a nightmare. Today was our last day of class because we have an assembly tomorrow. On the day before Spring Break. Good thing I don't give grades on written work in there or I'd never get the make-ups done.
4. School pt. 4--I'm on the retirement-party-planning committees for TWO different teachers this spring. I've also agreed to plan a little something for another teacher's 50th birthday on Friday. I also have to sort out three days' worth of lesson plans before I leave on Friday. I also have to clean off my desk. I also have to turn in my grade verifications. I also have to stay at school until seven again tomorrow night for inservice and then spend all day Friday in meetings that are stupid and boring and useless to anything that I do for a living.
5. Vacation--I leave for London on April 9. Wooohooo! That's a good thing. I'll be back on April 19.
6. Vacation pt. 2--Before I leave I have to pack up clothes for the kids to take to my parents' house for a week. I also need to clean my house because it is gross.
7. Vacation pt. 3--I haven't even thought about starting to pack for myself yet and I don't have any decent walking shoes. Oh, and London is insane expensive and I have not saved one penny toward spending money. Not one red cent.
8. Life in general--all I seem to have time for is wake up, work, home to eat, Y, home to put kids to bed, read online for an hour, go to bed. Something has to give.
9. Stupid things--oh, I also have time to go to the tanning bed. Skin cancer is a terrible thing and some day I'm going to really be pissed off at myself; however, I have no plans to quit going until I am suitably browned. I usually don't mind being fashionably pale, but for some reason this year, it has bugged me. Maybe because summer started in March.
10. Pets--we have a chick named Austin. Sam brought it home from school--they kept eggs in an incubator. If Austin survives chickhood, it will be a miracle. A bloody miracle. Sam has picked him up two dozen times a day, he's carried him around the house and he's taken him out to play in the front yard. Poor Austin has been a trooper through it al. I'll be most relieved when he goes to live at the farm--which shouldn't be much longer because he's got an incredible vertical jump and he's going to leap out of his box any minute. He bangs his head on the books we have covering him for every so often.
I think that's it for now. I'm going to attempt to catch up on blog reading. I don't have much faith that I will get far, though.
This is really going to be my year. I can just feel it. Somewhere among the chaos and confusion and carnage that is sure to lie ahead, I will be celebrated for the spectacular person that I really am. Or, if that doesn't pan out, I feel confident that I will at least look fanfuckingtastic since I am now losing weight and actually eating in a somewhat healthy manner. No matter about those things, though, because the one thing that is guaranteed to make 2007 the best damn year ever is this:
BUBBLEHEAD IS RETIRING!
Yes, kids, you heard it here first. The worst boss in the history of bosses is, after much pain and suffering on the part of her staff, riding off into the florescent glow of the Hobby Lobby lights and bidding us farewell as of June 30. There are simply not words to describe my glee, my exuberance, my outright ecstasy at this turn of events.
Needless to say, we won't be shedding to many tears on June 30 and we may all be shitfaced, rolling drunk from celebrating on July 1. All I know is that suddenly 2007 became my all-time favorite year and I'm going to savor every day of it.
*edited to remove details that were a little to personal and potentially identifying*
BUBBLEHEAD IS RETIRING!
Yes, kids, you heard it here first. The worst boss in the history of bosses is, after much pain and suffering on the part of her staff, riding off into the florescent glow of the Hobby Lobby lights and bidding us farewell as of June 30. There are simply not words to describe my glee, my exuberance, my outright ecstasy at this turn of events.
Needless to say, we won't be shedding to many tears on June 30 and we may all be shitfaced, rolling drunk from celebrating on July 1. All I know is that suddenly 2007 became my all-time favorite year and I'm going to savor every day of it.
*edited to remove details that were a little to personal and potentially identifying*
Labels: announcements, my life, work stuff
Am under threat of deletion from bookmark list and favorites by various individuals, so am forced to update blog in manner of favorite movie/book and merely blog out thoughts quickly so as to avoid said tragedy.
Life is most bothersome lately with the work and family and home and health things all converging upon my head at once, which should come as no suprise since this is about the 10th or 11th time that I've endured a back-to-school routine, but this one is particularly brutal thanks to the introduction of a foriegn element to my work habitat--water.
Last year, whilst I was strolling along the banks of the Thames, I knew that sheer and utter madness awaited me upon my return to the workplace due to a very unfortunate contrusction fuckery which is now known as "the middle school wing" but should, by all rights, purposes and intent be, in fact the high school wing, but I'm not one to carry a grudge a year or more later. Oh, no, not me. This fuckery, however, did cause major mishaps in my classroom in the manner of a plague of dust and construction destruction that no one bothered to clean up whilst I was taking said strolls, so I spent the better part of a semester, nay, three quarters, cleaning up grit and grime from the various intrusions into my domain in order to hook various bits and pieces to the "middle school wing". Finally, sometime in late January, the wing was at least opened and they stopped using my room as a vehicle for abstract pipe art and weird metal boxy coverings and I was able to at least enjoy the project for what I now consider its true purpose...a $900K bathroom and teacher's lunch roomy place to benefit me. The rest of it? I couldn't give less of a rat's ass if I had a mangy rat that I hated.
Why dredge this up now? Because I'm me, of course, but also because that sets the stage for the unbridled clusterfuckery of THIS school year's start: the failure of the roof. This actually started late last year, and one would think that some sort of repair process would be good seeing as my work environment is loaded with papery things and all manner of bookishness, but that would be assuming that anyone with any power has his, her or its head out of the ass to which it belongs. Really. All summer long, instead of just letting the classrooms sit and mellow sans children, a few choice ones (mine in particular--you don't really care about the others) were allowed to fester in their own Tennessee Rain Forest. Sadly, there was no cafe added--in fact, the cafe was gutted and students and adults alike have been sentenced to sack lunch hell, but that's a rant for another day. Instead, we have a smelly, wet, bucket-filled swamp with nary an animatronic gorilla or elephant in sight.
So, that essentially pissed me off (and I made a few calls to those who don't have heads in asses--all anonymous like, of course, and brought the enlightment that was so desperately needed to the situation). Little did I know that I could be more pissed off, but when it actually, literally rains into your workspace? And soaks your furniture in a puddle of water about .25 inches deep and then leaves a malingering odor that is, as God is my witness, beyond any and all description even by the msot talented wordsmith? Well, that just tops it all and puts one in a most foul mood, although now I am awaiting the collapse of a very bulgy, nasty, sodden piece of tile that just happens to be located directly over my podium because when it falls, I plan to take off for the rest of the day at someone else's expense.
Plagues, I suppose, one could consider these. Two years ago there were mice, then came the grit, and now the water. If bugs are next, I'm officially going into early retirement. No questions asked, no debate.
Must now go prepare to face another day in my own little terrarium--if you're in the area, stop by. I'm easy to find. My classroom is the one with the duct-tape repairing the window which was broken in 1993...I wish I was joking.
Life is most bothersome lately with the work and family and home and health things all converging upon my head at once, which should come as no suprise since this is about the 10th or 11th time that I've endured a back-to-school routine, but this one is particularly brutal thanks to the introduction of a foriegn element to my work habitat--water.
Last year, whilst I was strolling along the banks of the Thames, I knew that sheer and utter madness awaited me upon my return to the workplace due to a very unfortunate contrusction fuckery which is now known as "the middle school wing" but should, by all rights, purposes and intent be, in fact the high school wing, but I'm not one to carry a grudge a year or more later. Oh, no, not me. This fuckery, however, did cause major mishaps in my classroom in the manner of a plague of dust and construction destruction that no one bothered to clean up whilst I was taking said strolls, so I spent the better part of a semester, nay, three quarters, cleaning up grit and grime from the various intrusions into my domain in order to hook various bits and pieces to the "middle school wing". Finally, sometime in late January, the wing was at least opened and they stopped using my room as a vehicle for abstract pipe art and weird metal boxy coverings and I was able to at least enjoy the project for what I now consider its true purpose...a $900K bathroom and teacher's lunch roomy place to benefit me. The rest of it? I couldn't give less of a rat's ass if I had a mangy rat that I hated.
Why dredge this up now? Because I'm me, of course, but also because that sets the stage for the unbridled clusterfuckery of THIS school year's start: the failure of the roof. This actually started late last year, and one would think that some sort of repair process would be good seeing as my work environment is loaded with papery things and all manner of bookishness, but that would be assuming that anyone with any power has his, her or its head out of the ass to which it belongs. Really. All summer long, instead of just letting the classrooms sit and mellow sans children, a few choice ones (mine in particular--you don't really care about the others) were allowed to fester in their own Tennessee Rain Forest. Sadly, there was no cafe added--in fact, the cafe was gutted and students and adults alike have been sentenced to sack lunch hell, but that's a rant for another day. Instead, we have a smelly, wet, bucket-filled swamp with nary an animatronic gorilla or elephant in sight.
So, that essentially pissed me off (and I made a few calls to those who don't have heads in asses--all anonymous like, of course, and brought the enlightment that was so desperately needed to the situation). Little did I know that I could be more pissed off, but when it actually, literally rains into your workspace? And soaks your furniture in a puddle of water about .25 inches deep and then leaves a malingering odor that is, as God is my witness, beyond any and all description even by the msot talented wordsmith? Well, that just tops it all and puts one in a most foul mood, although now I am awaiting the collapse of a very bulgy, nasty, sodden piece of tile that just happens to be located directly over my podium because when it falls, I plan to take off for the rest of the day at someone else's expense.
Plagues, I suppose, one could consider these. Two years ago there were mice, then came the grit, and now the water. If bugs are next, I'm officially going into early retirement. No questions asked, no debate.
Must now go prepare to face another day in my own little terrarium--if you're in the area, stop by. I'm easy to find. My classroom is the one with the duct-tape repairing the window which was broken in 1993...I wish I was joking.
Labels: ramble, rant, work stuff
Why We Englishy-Types Don't Do Mathy Things
0 Comments Published by Kimmah on Friday, June 23, 2006 at 8:55 AM.
I've never claimed to be anything that I'm not, well, other than allowing folks to think I'm a redhead and not really correcting people who assume that I'm essentially perfect, but on the really core things, I'm pretty good at admitting my own shortcomings. As such, I'm submitting the following statement:
Seriously. And I'm not even giving to hyperbole as is my natural tendency. I swear on Pythagoras, Newton and even the beloved Aristotle that I'm just about two steps over incompetent when it comes to anthing that involves "computations" or "figuring" or "forumlas". For some of you, this is probably incomprehensible because I have some very smart friends--some of whom even make their living doing all sorts of bizarre things with numbers that I can't even fathom (hello, Cary and Tonya)--but for me, math might as well be presented in Russian pig Latin because I'm totally and completely bumfuzzled by pretty much all of it.
There are those who would be embarrassed to admit this. Me? Not so much. You see, I've come to embrace my complete lack of mathmatical comprehension. Really, there's no sense in fighting it--one might as well try to make a lefty thread a needle with their right-hand as make me figure algebra. It's against my nature, you see. I'm a word person, not a number person--or I should say an abstract and concept person, not a concrete and application person, since I do very much enjoy a nice Suduko-- and it's time that those who are of my ilk stand tall and be proud.
We Englishy types have a tremendous skill set that should be embraced; we create something from nothing. We dissect the written word and add to the breadth and depth of the human experience...or at least give folks something to read in the bathroom or on the subway and I think there's a universal appreciation of either one of those contributions. The fact that we can't figure out percentages without a calculator, a forumla and a quizzical look is really irrevelavant in the grand scheme of life because, honestly, when is one NOT going to be able to find some sort of calculator-things on the Internet or a little cheat sheet for your wallet to help you with that? Ratios? I mean, really? Ditto on that one. Area, volume, blah, blah, blah...in this day and age, one can buy any mannner of little gizmos to measure and calculate the stuff for you. All one has to do is point and click and make the laser stand straight and then hit enter. Trained chimps are capable of that...but can they craft a poem? Are they able to make someone cry from laughing or yell at their computer monitor simply by writing a paragraph? I think not. They can fling poo, swing around on ropes, play with toys and solve puzzles and puzzles=math when you get right down to it, so, well, you see the correlation, don't you? I mean, I took statistics for my doctorate program (and actually made a B) and I'm sure that I could make that work given the time and the effort and the right little computer program with which to run some sort of T-test or whatnot.
Englishy people are entirely too creative and nuturing to be worried with the constraints of something like a formula. Mathy folks like to do things in a certain order and if you screw up and multiply before you've added your dear Aunt Sally or whatever, then nothing you do after that will be correct. Or, if you've been asked to create some sort of statistical analysis, half a page of work can be for naught simply because you accidently forgot that 2x2 was 4 and not, say, 2 and then you'd have to erase an entire page of work and start all over again with a ridiculous table of numbers and you'd be worrying about running out of time on your exam, so you'd start to stress...well, uh, you get the picture. Math is very structured and confining--one could almost compare it to a jail of the mind, I think.
English? It's free and flowing. We let you put subjects and verbs just about anywhere you please. Want a sentence with one word? Fine. How about a sentence that has two hundred words? Go right ahead. If you can't think of just the right word, then by all means, just make one up. We're not elitist. You don't have to be some dead Greek in order to have control with the Englishy...even if we do pay an inordinate amount of attention to commas and Shakespeare, we're really very flexy on just about anything when you get right down to it. Some where along the way, we realized that we could have rules just like the Mathy folks, but we could also adapt those rules so that more people could play and, to be perfectly honest, so that we wouldn't all have to do the detail thing that some of us aren't really so great at. Voila! If you're an Englishy type, you may create your own style. Doesn't that sound divine? How very dashing and all, and there's just no way in the world that a Mathy person could ever get away with creating a new style for doing calculus. How dreary is that? The one time that anyone really tried to be adventurous in math was when the idea of New Math came along and, while I'm not even sure to this day what that was, it was pretty much roundly criticized by whom? Mathy types, of course. They're very proprietary, methinks.
My real estate class has served to highlight what I already knew--I'm not so much of a detail person. One has to be to be a Mathy person. I'm forever forgetting a decimal here or a zero there and, unlike a rough draft, it actually, uh, matters in figuring out interest rates or market values. There isn't a Math Check, which is just a damn shame, because it would really make things easier.
I'd like to be able to have a calculator that allowed me to choose a task, say, "Capitalization Rate" (I know, you don't really give a damn about a Cap Rate, either, but play along, just don't ask me to explain it because, frankly, I can't) and then be presented with a screen. Sort of like Word does when I choose New Document. Then when I enter totally stupid figures that don't have a chance in hell of computing correctly, I'd like a nice squiggly green or red line and some text to alert me. For example, if I'm supposed to figure out the value of a property with a cap rate of 25% and a net yearly income of $15,000 per month, there's a myriad of problems that can arise.
See, how helpful that would be? Instead, I get this:
And no helpful hint, no suggestions, nothing. For those of us who are more literal and, I'll admit it, spastic when using a calculator, there is now a conundrum of sorts.
So, we have to start all over. Obviously, even I can't make .00092 turn into a number that is even remotely representative of value, so if you flip the two, you can get this:
Which at least could be a value, but it's wrong.
Ha! Screw you, pretend real estate calculator and math and logical thinking and Mr. Pythagoras and Texas Instruments and even that stupid little pi. Phfffft. The fact that I'm not one with my algebraic self is of no consequence to me. My inability to string together long sets of numbers and come up with numbers that don't make my calculator go EEEE is irritating, yes, but look at all the words I can string along. So what if the most important Mathy thing that I really care about is Word Count or my PIN number? That's why God made bankers and CPAs and all those other Mathy people--to serve at the will of the Englishy, who will in turn, entertain the masses and shape culture and history for years to come with our finely crafted words and painstakingly edited bits of literary goodness.
Disclaimer: Of course, when I get my real estate license, I will pretend to be pseudo Mathy and turn all actual mathmatical stuff over to W. or some fine assistant if one of the numerous gadgets that I'll be purchasing should fail me. I do like that other numbery-thing--money--after all.
I'm a fucking moron when it comes to math.
Seriously. And I'm not even giving to hyperbole as is my natural tendency. I swear on Pythagoras, Newton and even the beloved Aristotle that I'm just about two steps over incompetent when it comes to anthing that involves "computations" or "figuring" or "forumlas". For some of you, this is probably incomprehensible because I have some very smart friends--some of whom even make their living doing all sorts of bizarre things with numbers that I can't even fathom (hello, Cary and Tonya)--but for me, math might as well be presented in Russian pig Latin because I'm totally and completely bumfuzzled by pretty much all of it.
There are those who would be embarrassed to admit this. Me? Not so much. You see, I've come to embrace my complete lack of mathmatical comprehension. Really, there's no sense in fighting it--one might as well try to make a lefty thread a needle with their right-hand as make me figure algebra. It's against my nature, you see. I'm a word person, not a number person--or I should say an abstract and concept person, not a concrete and application person, since I do very much enjoy a nice Suduko-- and it's time that those who are of my ilk stand tall and be proud.
We Englishy types have a tremendous skill set that should be embraced; we create something from nothing. We dissect the written word and add to the breadth and depth of the human experience...or at least give folks something to read in the bathroom or on the subway and I think there's a universal appreciation of either one of those contributions. The fact that we can't figure out percentages without a calculator, a forumla and a quizzical look is really irrevelavant in the grand scheme of life because, honestly, when is one NOT going to be able to find some sort of calculator-things on the Internet or a little cheat sheet for your wallet to help you with that? Ratios? I mean, really? Ditto on that one. Area, volume, blah, blah, blah...in this day and age, one can buy any mannner of little gizmos to measure and calculate the stuff for you. All one has to do is point and click and make the laser stand straight and then hit enter. Trained chimps are capable of that...but can they craft a poem? Are they able to make someone cry from laughing or yell at their computer monitor simply by writing a paragraph? I think not. They can fling poo, swing around on ropes, play with toys and solve puzzles and puzzles=math when you get right down to it, so, well, you see the correlation, don't you? I mean, I took statistics for my doctorate program (and actually made a B) and I'm sure that I could make that work given the time and the effort and the right little computer program with which to run some sort of T-test or whatnot.
Englishy people are entirely too creative and nuturing to be worried with the constraints of something like a formula. Mathy folks like to do things in a certain order and if you screw up and multiply before you've added your dear Aunt Sally or whatever, then nothing you do after that will be correct. Or, if you've been asked to create some sort of statistical analysis, half a page of work can be for naught simply because you accidently forgot that 2x2 was 4 and not, say, 2 and then you'd have to erase an entire page of work and start all over again with a ridiculous table of numbers and you'd be worrying about running out of time on your exam, so you'd start to stress...well, uh, you get the picture. Math is very structured and confining--one could almost compare it to a jail of the mind, I think.
English? It's free and flowing. We let you put subjects and verbs just about anywhere you please. Want a sentence with one word? Fine. How about a sentence that has two hundred words? Go right ahead. If you can't think of just the right word, then by all means, just make one up. We're not elitist. You don't have to be some dead Greek in order to have control with the Englishy...even if we do pay an inordinate amount of attention to commas and Shakespeare, we're really very flexy on just about anything when you get right down to it. Some where along the way, we realized that we could have rules just like the Mathy folks, but we could also adapt those rules so that more people could play and, to be perfectly honest, so that we wouldn't all have to do the detail thing that some of us aren't really so great at. Voila! If you're an Englishy type, you may create your own style. Doesn't that sound divine? How very dashing and all, and there's just no way in the world that a Mathy person could ever get away with creating a new style for doing calculus. How dreary is that? The one time that anyone really tried to be adventurous in math was when the idea of New Math came along and, while I'm not even sure to this day what that was, it was pretty much roundly criticized by whom? Mathy types, of course. They're very proprietary, methinks.
My real estate class has served to highlight what I already knew--I'm not so much of a detail person. One has to be to be a Mathy person. I'm forever forgetting a decimal here or a zero there and, unlike a rough draft, it actually, uh, matters in figuring out interest rates or market values. There isn't a Math Check, which is just a damn shame, because it would really make things easier.
I'd like to be able to have a calculator that allowed me to choose a task, say, "Capitalization Rate" (I know, you don't really give a damn about a Cap Rate, either, but play along, just don't ask me to explain it because, frankly, I can't) and then be presented with a screen. Sort of like Word does when I choose New Document. Then when I enter totally stupid figures that don't have a chance in hell of computing correctly, I'd like a nice squiggly green or red line and some text to alert me. For example, if I'm supposed to figure out the value of a property with a cap rate of 25% and a net yearly income of $15,000 per month, there's a myriad of problems that can arise.
You divided the percentage rate by the income a property generates. Note that the number you have could not possibly, in any currency, be converted to a value of any kind. The forumula is Rate/Income=Value.
See, how helpful that would be? Instead, I get this:
.0000192
And no helpful hint, no suggestions, nothing. For those of us who are more literal and, I'll admit it, spastic when using a calculator, there is now a conundrum of sorts.
- Did I enter the numbers wrong?
- Should this convert to something and if so, what?
- Was I supposed to divide or multiply?
- Damn, how do you move the decimal again? Did I put a decimal in the percent?
- What was the question again?
So, we have to start all over. Obviously, even I can't make .00092 turn into a number that is even remotely representative of value, so if you flip the two, you can get this:
60000
Which at least could be a value, but it's wrong.
In order to figure Cap Rate, you should use the Net Yearly Income, not the Net Monthly Income, which anyone with a basic understanding of simple accounting or who had read the book would know.
Ha! Screw you, pretend real estate calculator and math and logical thinking and Mr. Pythagoras and Texas Instruments and even that stupid little pi. Phfffft. The fact that I'm not one with my algebraic self is of no consequence to me. My inability to string together long sets of numbers and come up with numbers that don't make my calculator go EEEE is irritating, yes, but look at all the words I can string along. So what if the most important Mathy thing that I really care about is Word Count or my PIN number? That's why God made bankers and CPAs and all those other Mathy people--to serve at the will of the Englishy, who will in turn, entertain the masses and shape culture and history for years to come with our finely crafted words and painstakingly edited bits of literary goodness.
Disclaimer: Of course, when I get my real estate license, I will pretend to be pseudo Mathy and turn all actual mathmatical stuff over to W. or some fine assistant if one of the numerous gadgets that I'll be purchasing should fail me. I do like that other numbery-thing--money--after all.
Labels: English, my life, rant, real estate, work stuff
