tmi warning

So Aidan is doing awesome potty training. He's had fourteen no accident days (with two accident days mixed in). If he goes all day tomorrow, then on Sunday he gets a pet fish. He's been putting stickers on his potty chart daily.

Gotta say, though... Have a newfound respect for the little potty training boy. I just had to help him stand up to pee for the first time (he's decided he wants to go "backwards"), and man, that was more difficult than I thought it would be. All my fault, and I had to wipe the entire toilet down after he was done, since apparently, I can't aim worth a crap.

Currently reading: White Oleander

my trip, in a nutshell (help! i can't get out of this nutshell!)

Okay, here goes the regular trip rundown.

So Liam and I took off last Thursday and got to Baton Rouge at like 4:30. We went straight to my mom's and immediately got ourselves organized for me to go to a wedding function/dinner. Dinner at The Cabin. Fried seafood. Delicious. Then bed.

Friday morning I got a haircut, thank goodness. Hung out with my mom and Liam until lunch, at which point I headed to lunch with Jenny and Kari in Hammond at La Carreta, my one friend lunch while in town. Friday evening was the rehearsal/dinner. Then bed.

Saturday was the wedding, at two pm. Hung out with wedding party while Mama did their hairdos, then got myself and Liam dressed and went to wedding. Stayed at reception a brief while, then headed to Mama's. Had planned to go visiting, but Liam was a maniac (turns out, according to LA doctor, he had an ear infection. Amoxicillin prescribed.). Stayed at Mama's. Went briefly to restaurant with sisters, etc., for only chips and salsa while others ate. Then bed.

Sunday morning, went to church at Daddy's. Then lunch. Took off after lunch for Biloxi with Jenny, my first GIRLS TRIP since I got married, and may I say, long deserved! Of course, since we're exhausted, it's not the girls trip I would have once taken... but just what the doctor ordered. Got to Biloxi, wandered the hotel for a while checking things out. Chilled in room. Had brief visit with Bates. Ate fried mushrooms for dinner. Watched SVU until I fell asleep. Slept with no waking to feed baby!

Monday, walked to Hard Rock for giant Starbucks. Walked around. Went to cafe for breakfast. Back to room. Long nap. Yeehaw. Then walked back to Hard Rock for shopping. Bought me and Aidan t-shirts. Realized coolness of the fact that living in Colorado makes "Biloxi" shirt unique and unusual, rather than cheesy. Back to hotel. Attempt at second nap, interrupted by numerous phone calls about baby and medicine. To pool. First time in swimsuit for real in like five years. Realized that if one feels unattractive in swimsuit, one should simply visit a public pool to see the other people who apparently don't feel unattractive in their swimsuits (YIKES!) to feel better about oneself. Got sunburn. Back to room. Shower, dress, dinner. Pork and ginger potstickers, clear soup, salad with ginger dressing, sushi for one, then back to room. (Jenny - lobster and vegetable tempura.) Then walk to Hard Rock for Ben and Jerry's. Back to room. Watch TV till sleep.

Tuesday, up, to Starbucks and breakfast. Pack. Head home. Get home at lunch time. Hit the store to purchase Louisiana deliciousness to box up and ship to myself. Blue Runner beans, jambalaya mix, coffee. Back to Mama's. Laundry. Pack. Early to bed.

Wednesday, up. Breakfast. Finish packing. Fly home.

While I was gone, Aidan learned the word "Louisiana." Uh-wee-zee-anna. Tony didn't check the mail, not once, the entire week I was gone.

Currently reading: Stiff: The Curious Lives of Human Cadavers

more for the smorgasbord

These people down the road have one of those fake dogs that's bent over with the missing head, like it's digging in the dirt. Except they have it sideways on their porch. Like PERHAPS the dog blasted his head through the concrete.

And I just watched Notes on a Scandal. One of the first lines (the narrator is a teacher) is "The first day of a new term. Here come the local pubescent proles. The future plumbers and shop assistants. And doubtless the odd terrorist too."

How true. :)

a smorgasbord of comments

Here are my random thoughts for today.

You know, there is something unnatural about detesting kids at the daycare as much as I do. I know that people say "I hate other people's kids", and I know there have definitely been kids I've disliked in the past, but there are kids that go to daycare with the boys that I loathe. Like, I have a physical reaction to them. There are the two sisters who practically attack me when I get in the door, in the baby's face, loud, HELLO BABY HELLO BABY. Trying to hold him, when they're under the age of six. Please. I don't think so. They get one inch from his face and then whine when he flails his arm and it hits them. HE'S SEVEN MONTHS OLD, idiots. Get out of here. Then there are these boys that really piss me off. One is so aggravating. He's the one whose name one of the boys was assigned for Christmas presents, and he came up to me and said HE GOT MY NAME AND I LIKE ELECTRONICS. Whatever, jerko. Be glad I didn't buy you the Play-Doh fun factory. Then there are two brothers who are such whiny tattletales. I swear, we can't even get in the door sometimes without one of them saying, "AIDAN GOT TIME OUT TODAY BECAUSE HE THREW A ROCK OUTSIDE!" Yeah, I'm sure you never do anything wrong, whiny jerk. This morning I was just like GET ME OUT OF HERE. I practically ran to flee from all the annoying kids.

I was watching "Roseanne" at three am and Becky had on Guess jeans, complete with the upside down triangle on the back pocket. Ahh.... good times. Too bad they weren't the ultra cool ones from back in the day with the zips on the outside of the ankles.

And one last awesome thing I read yesterday in the book I'm currently cruising through. This is interesting.

"[People] see... stories of Jack Ryan, the perfectly haired onetime Republican candidate for Senate in Illinois. Mr. Ryan had to drop out of the race in the spring of 2004 when a judge released papers filed in his divorce from Star Trek: Voyager star Jeri Ryan. In her divorce petition, Ms. Ryan accused her then-husband of forcing her to go to sex clubs in New York, New Orleans, and Paris... Ryan denied the allegations... Nonetheless, his campaign cratered, and with no other viable Republican candidates available to take his place, the Democratic nominee, an obscure state legislator named Barack Obama all of sudden seemed as if he might amount to something after all" (7).

And the nation of young people lines up behind the fluke senator...

thoughts on my religious upbringing, to be continued

As a young child, I attended a United Pentecostal Church (UPC) with my family. The kind of church that teaches that as a female, I’d burn in the depths of hell should I choose to cut bangs or put on a pair of Levi’s. Thankfully, my mom had voluntarily raised herself Baptist, so we didn’t practice what they preached, but there’s something about starting your life knowing that every little thing you do, from putting on a fake gum-machine ring (no jewelry allowed) to using a little mascara (no makeup allowed either), will land you amongst murderers and rapists in the afterlife. There’s something about it, and it’s not the most positive, self-loving place you can open your eyes.

Thankfully, we left that church fairly early in my life. The next church I remember was, fatefully, the church of a spotless minister by the name of Jimmy Swaggart. That religion was called Assembles of God (AG). We attended his inspiring services until I was about 13, at which time those damn “far left liberals” led to an investigation that revealed Swag’s dealings with prostitution.

We did a brief stint at another church in Baton Rouge, Louisiana, another AG church (is it me, or are these religions sort of the precursor to our necessity to abbreviate everything, like KFC?). The only thing I remember about that church was getting into an argument with a girl younger than me and scratching a cut into her stomach with a lead pencil. Good times.

Finally, we landed at a small place in my hometown, one that was “non-denominational.” I’m not sure which is more difficult: having to explain a specific religion when you’re not sure what that religion is, or having to explain what non-denominational means. The weirdest thing is that term, since “non-denominational” brings up feelings of open arms, the we welcome all believers of any kind idea. In reality, it’s the same thing as the others: the if you do anything outside of this church for recreation or enjoyment, including listening to pop radio or reading secular books, you’re sinning idea.

There’s something very odd about growing up believing that that margarita that you just sipped while eating enchiladas with your friends at the age of 22 will land you in hell as quickly as violently taking the life of an enemy. That you’ll burn if you buy a Nirvana CD the same way you’d burn if you slept with the entire football team in college, on videotape.

a short short story/prose

I already mentioned that the first chapter of Lucky by Alice Sebold made me so angry. I wrote a little after reading it, to get the anger out of my system. Here's what I wrote. I guess it's like a very short prose piece.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Every weekend it was the same. She'd sit on the bed in the hotel room, surrounded by those she worked with, her friends, and others who were friends who'd just come along to hang out. They'd laugh, it was late and they'd been drinking and sometimes more. They'd do some hotel pranks that they did in each city, and she'd think about how much fun this was and wish it could never end.

But inevitably, people would slowly fall asleep. Others would retreat to the other room, since two were usually provided free of charge. And the time would come to give up the night and go to sleep.

It's terrible to pray for someone else to pass out, but that's what she would do each and every time. She'd lie there and wish that he'd pass out, stone cold, and she'd be free to sleep without weight. And then she'd feel stupid, it was her own fault. She had every right and freedom to get up and leave. To go to the other room. To sleep on the floor. But for some reason, she just couldn't do it. Later she couldn't explain why. Maybe it's because she was afraid he'd make a scene and she'd be embarrassed. Maybe it was because she didn't want anyone to know anything was going on. Maybe it was because she loved him, or thought she loved him, and didn't know how to marry the emotions with what happened.

So she stayed. And they'd be assigned to the same bed, as usual, which is another reason she assumed it was her fault… why wouldn't they make these informal assignments if there weren't a reason? If it weren't justified?

The last cigarettes would be put out… people would start snoring… and she'd lie on the edge of the bed, as far over as she could go without falling off. Since she was small, just 19, only about 98 pounds, she could occupy a very small space, and felt each time that perhaps if she gave him enough room, he wouldn't touch her.

She was wrong.

Slowly his hands would make their way to her edge of the bed. They'd start exploring, and she'd pretend she was asleep, ignoring them, hoping that if he believed she was sleeping, he'd stop and go to sleep himself.

She was wrong.

Eventually, he would pull her over, force her to face him. At first she'd fight inside her mind, saying, just let it happen and get it over with. This just means that he has feelings for you. But still, she didn't want it to happen. After a few minutes, the suppressed her would come to, realize what was happening, shout NONONONONONO in her head. She'd say STOP out loud, or at least as loud as she dared with two other people passed out in the next bed. She'd whisper, DON'T. Other half-hearted refusals, but nothing that she felt later could be tangible proof that she'd refused. On occasion, she hit. She would throw soft fists at his chest or put her hands out and push, but she was so weak. And she knew that if she made a scene, she'd be out, out of the job, out of the fun, out of the circle, out of his life, and she couldn't think of what she'd do if that happened.

And then she'd just give up. It would only be a short time… she knew if she just gave up it would be over so soon. And she'd hope that this time, things would be different.

She was wrong.

additions to the random louisiana language

My friend Bates added "cummoan." As in, "Cummoan, let's get out of here."

Karen then added "Oh, MY word" (as opposed to the will-send-you-straight-to-hell-broke-a-commandment-oh-my-G*d). Emphasis on the "my" and "word" is pronouncd as though it contains a "u" rather than an "o." Like, oh MAH WURD.

Then I thought of another one. Cain't. As in "I cain't believe that."

things i miss randomly hearing

The word - As used in this sentence...

Y'all – Where y'all goin'?
Yonder – Grab me that paper over yonder.
Ain't – You ain't comin' with me.
Buggy – You wanna sit in the buggy or walk in the store?
Fixin' to – Hurry up. I'm fixin' to leave for Baton Rouge.
Good Lawd! – Good Lawd! It's hot outside.
They got – They got sweet tea here. They got coffee in the kitchen.
Mama unnem – Who all's staying for lunch? Mama unnem will be here at noon.
Thee-ay-ter – I remember when I saw that movie at the thee-ay-ter.

Sometimes I think I'd cry out of happiness if I randomly heard someone say some of these just out and about.

Think of any I forgot?

Currently reading: Lucky by Alice Sebold

excerpt from cajuns book

It's funny to read about your own hometown areas written as though it's a tribe in some remote country. But check it out… this was written in the seventies, and I'd say it's still pretty accurate.

*Sniff* Makes me homesick. While I don't want anyone visiting me daily, I do want to be able to visit others daily! Just give me a cup of coffee strong enough to make me ill and let's talk about the gossip of my fifth cousins. If you're not from LA, THIS is why Pueblo isn't home for me.

Allain, Mathé. "Twentieth-Century Acadians." The Cajuns: Essays on Their History and Culture. Lafayette: Center for Louisiana Studies, 1978. 129-41.

"Despite the enormous amount of change in Acadiana today, a great deal remains unchanged. Technology has affected physical things but left social patterns and institutions largely untouched. Religion, the Roman Catholic Church, remains an all-important factor in Acadian lives. The young Acadians still largely attend Catholic schools and, whatever their rebellion against the good sisters or the priests during adolescence, seldom stray far from Catholic practices. Sunday masses are packed (though it is now several years since I have seen men go out for a smoke during the sermon) and ecclesiastical gossip still provides much of the conversation over a beer or a cup of coffee.

Family life has remained largely unchanged. Acadian life still revolves around a closely knit, extended family characterized by both physical and emotional closeness. The family members usually reside near one another. In one family I know, each of the eight sons and daughters visits the elderly parents once a day when all is well, more if the mother is ailing. Young Acadians seldom move from the native village, often building their first home, or setting up a mobile home, in the parents' backyard…

Families, moreover, visit constantly. Sunday is typically spent dropping in on relatives, and any holiday or anniversary will do as an excuse for a family reunion with beer-filled ice chests and food-laden tables. The contacts are frequent not only between parents and children, but among all relatives, [aunt, uncle,] and the innumerable [cousins].

…Acadians are [often] known affectionately to everyone by a nickname… received in early childhood. It often so completely supplants their real name that no one remembers what they were christened. In the little town of Breaux Bridge, the phone book lists the nicknames along with the given names, since no one would ever look for "Bubba" Hebert under the listing "Charles Hebert." Theose nicknames are often most unusual in that they commonly include names that would normally be insults, such as "Neg." Only in Louisiana would one see political posters proclaiming "Nookie for Sheriff"!

The Acadian family, even in the late seventies, follows traditional organization with well-defined male and female roles: each has his or her sphere of activities and the apparent crossovers follow socially acceptable patterns… Men will cook—Acadian men, in fact, rightly pride themselves on their culinary skills—but will not scrub floors or change diapers.

Men and women have their sphere of power also, and the strict role definition does not mean that Acadian women are dominated, submissive, or compliant! Far from it. Acadian women represent a formidable power within the family and have shown through the years that they can take over… if necessary" (139-40).

books, books, books. and movies.

Okay, here is my current list of book/movie comments.

What I've read recently:

The Cajuns: Essays on Their History and Culture - written in the late seventies, just so you know. I didn't read the entire book, but I read about half of it. I didn't really care about Cajuns in Santo Domingo, but I read the ones I thought were interesting. It was pretty good, but academic, keep that in mind.

Holidays on Ice - The first half of this book was hysterical. The second half, not so much. It's worth getting just to read The Santaland Diaries chapter, though.

Tiny Ladies in Shiny Pants - Pretty darn funny. It's a collection of related true life stories like many of the books I'm reading lately. It's not for the easily offended but it's definitely hilarious if you like that kind of book.

Teachers Have it Easy: The Small Salaries and Big Sacrifices of America's Teachers - Okay, I didn't read this one all the way through. I read the first couple of chapters and then skimmed it. The first few chapters should be required reading before anyone's allowed to vote on any educational issue. After that, much of the book is really written for those unfamiliar with the teaching job itself. No one has to tell me how much work teaching in public schools is or what a pain it is.

Next on the list, books that I am checking out or putting on hold this week:
Lucky by Alice Sebold. An autobiographical book about Sebold's rape and aftermath. The first chapter made me so angry, but it's a good book.
The Future Dictionary of America. Just look it up on Amazon if you're interested.
Something else I can't remember that I put on hold at the school library
Her Last Death - another book of my new favorite genre: the wacky memoir.
The Devil in the White City - a non-fiction about the happenings around the 1893 Chicago World's Fair.
Into the Wild - the book that the Sean Penn movie was based on. Recommended by multiple people, including Annie, who enjoyed other books I like.
All the King's Men - another Sean Penn movie basis. This is the one that is sort of based on Huey Long, the movie that Mike D "starred" in. :)

Movies:
F**k - a documentary about the F-word. Mildly entertaining.
Weapons of Mass Deception - interesting, about the media's representation of the war. Probably not appealing to George W. fans.
The Kite Runner - the book was good, the movie sucked.
The Invasion - of course, it can't touch the original Invasion of the Body Snatchers in creepiness, but it was a pretty good film, I thought.

Next up:
Sweeney Todd
Henry and June
A Jonestown documentary
The two Tarantino Grindhouse features

weird children's books

Weird and humorous. Kiddie books. Don't know if I'd want any of these for my children regardless of political stance, although I would be interested in reading all of them myself for laughs. Wonder if I could get these through Interlibrary Loan at UCCS. Like, do kids at picture book age need to learn about this stuff? Aidan can't even figure out if he wants to be a baby or a little boy or a big boy. Much less his political beliefs or sexual orientation.

It's Just a Plant: A Children's Story of Marijuana
Jackie wakes up late at night and finds her parents smoking pot. They give a simple explanation and promise to talk to her about it the next day, which happens to be Halloween. The awkwardly drawn, full-page art shows Jackie and her mom in odd costumes riding their bikes to see the marijuana farmer, and then to a doctor who explains that some adults use the drug, but that children absolutely should not. When they pass some stores and the child recognizes the now-familiar sweet smell, she sees a group of African-American men smoking. Implausibly, they stop and explain some details about marijuana and hold still when the police arrive. Even more surprising is the officer who explains why the drug is illegal and that people are trying to change the laws; he then lets the young men go with a simple warning.

Help! Mom! There are Liberals Under my Bed!
This full-color illustrated book is a fun way for parents to teach young children the valuable lessons of conservatism. Written in simple text, readers can follow along with Tommy and Lou as they open a lemonade stand to earn money for a swing set. But when liberals start demanding that Tommy and Lou pay half their money in taxes, take down their picture of Jesus, and serve broccoli with every glass of lemonade, the young brothers experience the downside to living in Liberaland.

NO, George, NO! The Re-parenting of George W. Bush
This is a book about a President named George who has a dream. In this dream, George becomes a little boy, and he meets a Truth Fairy who is trying to teach him lessons about How to not manipulate the Media, How to treat Veterans, How to be honest, How to be respectful with families who have lost soldiers in war, How to go to War only when necessary, How not to label people as Boogeymen, How not to invade countries, How to control greed, How to hold fair elections, and How to behave as a leader. .

Help! Mom! Hollywood's in my Hamper!
Janie and Sam were happy just being kids -- that is, until celebrities started popping out of their hamper to tell them how to behave and to sell them expensive clothes. With Hollywood and its friends in the liberal media declaring war on traditional values, what's a concerned parent to do?

King & King
When a grouchy queen tells her layabout son that it's time for him to marry, he sighs, "Very well, Mother.... I must say, though, I've never cared much for princesses." His young page winks. Several unsatisfactory bachelorettes visit the castle before "Princess Madeleine and her brother, Prince Lee" appear in the doorway. The hero is smitten at once. "What a wonderful prince!" he and Prince Lee both exclaim, as a shower of tiny Valentine hearts flutters between them. First-time co-authors and artists de Hann and Nijland matter-of-factly conclude with the royal wedding of "King and King," the page boy's blushing romance with the leftover princess and the assurance that "everyone lives happily ever after."

The Boy Who Cried Fabulous
Roger, a quirky, enthusiastic boy, is fascinated by the world around him. On the way to school, the clothes in a shop window catch his eye and he stops to exclaim over everything in the "fabulous" store. When he arrives late, his teacher yells at him, admonishing him to go straight home at the end of the day. Roger tries to obey, but he finds more "fabulous" things to shout about and doesn't get there until after dark. His parents are at a loss and end up sending him to bed and banning the word "fabulous" from the household. Roger wants to abide by their wishes, but during a family trip into town he is swept away by "a world too wondrous to ignore" and, in turn, leads the adults on a rollicking, adjective-filled journey through the streets until they come to understand and appreciate their "fabulous" son.

please do not leave dishes unattended

Check out this cheesy website... it's the first one I ever made for myself back when I was in grad school. Beware of spacing... they didn't have these giant wide monitors when I made that.
http://www.geocities.com/jmespages/

And since we're on a nostalgic retro vibe, here's a poem off said website:

Please Do Not Leave the Dishes Unattended*
*This was written as a joke. My friend Katie and I were at her then-boyfriend's dorm at LSU, waiting in the hall. There was a sign in the kitchen across the hall that said, "Please do not leave dishes unattended." I thought that was pretty funny, and wondered what, in fact, the dishes might do if they were left unattended.

Tupperware
Ceramic demons
Gazing hungrily out of the cupboard of glass
As the last inhibitor
Of this possessed kitchen inferno
Exits the room
They cautiously peruse the room
For signs of danger
The cupboard door slowly, then rapidly
Swings open
As they hear the final door
To dormitory existence slam shut
The first and bravest of the
Plastic leaders
Plunges to seeming death
Halts at the sudden impact
Of the square-tiled marble floor
Skids to the hall and observes
Nothing
All the others play
Follow the leader
As they make a grand trek
Down the hall
The ceramic leader
Rushes to the opposite barrier
Stops abruptly
And turns
Annoyingly loud music begins
As he turns his small and tacky head
And says, in an oh-so-repulsive and
Loud voice,
"LIMBO!!!"

jme December 1994

and the award for most self-sufficient three-year-old goes to...

Well, I bought one more thing to help me be lazy... one of those light switches that you stick on the wall and it is like a remote to a plug in across the room. Now Aidan can turn the light on and off in his play room himself. Because God knows, I hate having to walk the four steps across the room and bend behind the TV to flip the lamp switch.

And another step in my quest to be the laziest mother on the planet -- yesterday, I came out of the kitchen and found Aidan putting up a dvd. He had found his dvd case, picked out Finding Nemo, gone to his play room dvd player, opened the tray, got the other dvd out, closed the tray, and was putting the original dvd back in the case when I came in. He looked at me and said, "I need the remote."

Yes, he just turned three.

the little munch, and the end of an era

The little munch has picked up two *awesome* new habits.

We've been trying to potty train him. On his third birthday weekend, after we got home from New Mexico, he started in underwear full time during the day, even if he has an accident -- back in underwear. We have a plethora of Diego, Scooby, Spiderman, Thomas, and other underoos. He was doing okay, just a few accidents, but this weekend he started a fun trick. He came out of his room the other day and had peed and poo'd in his pants. Great. So he got cleaned up. Then the other day, I thought he was making the "I have to go the bathroom" look, and he went in his room and shut the door. I went in there a second later, and there he was, pooing in his pants. Then he confirmed my suspicion when yesterday, he was outside with Tony. He came in through the back door and hauled ass to his room and shut the door. I said, "AIDAN!" and ran after him and opened the door. And there he was, peeing. Pee coming out of his pant leg onto the carpet. Like, he had to run PAST the bathroom to get to his room. Why not just go pee on his toilet?

His other fun new habit is an extension of his apparently inherited OCD. We all know he has to have all of his crayons facing the same way, and that every toy person has to be seated on the same spot every time in a toy bus. Now, he's decided that his blankets have to be PERFECT in order for him to relax. He will literally wake up in the night and come in my room. I put him back in bed and cover him up, and before I'm out of the door, he says MOMMY with urgency. I am like, WHAT? thinking he's scared of something. He says, "My covers are broken." In other words, "fix them."

And this weekend saw the end of an era. My coffee pot died. You all know how much coffee I drink, and this is the pot we got when we got married, with the cool spherical carafe. Oh well. I had to toss it out and go buy another one. It's like replacing your old spherical friend with a new, shiny, chrome friend. Oh well.

Reading: Tiny Ladies in Shiny Pants by Jill Soloway

interesting tidbits of info

Things I learned (if they're accurate) during student presentations this semester:

Colorado typically has 300 days of sunshine a year.

The alleged reason that the society of Easter Island is no more is because they based their entire system on natural resources, namely wood, for economics, fuel, etc., and they ran out of wood.

For a comparable fourteen-mile bus ride, it takes 90 minutes on a public bus in Colorado Springs, but only 45 minutes for the same in Denver.

Professional Golf Management (PGM) majors are a unique breed of odd ducks that makes me wonder if they ever all find jobs.

Seven out of ten adults in the US is overweight or obese.

When a cell goes through natural cell death and was infected with a virus, it expels the virus out into the body. And this might be prevented one day with zinc.

Nevada allows prostitution but only in cities at or below 400,000 in population. This is why Vegas doesn't have legal prostitution.

I wish I had the body of this girl in one of my classes. Her stomach was totally flat. Ugh.

Old movie trailers are incredibly odd, funny, and a little racist. The one for Sudden Impact with Clint Eastwood had a black dude with a mini-fro on it. The dude had three short lines, and in those three short lines, they made him say "Sucka" twice and "Say what" once.

Thinking about the future of computer science/technology or about the processes that go on in a person's body both make me exhausted and make my head feel like it's going to explode.

There is a law on the books in Colorado against "promoting sexual immorality." Just think about all the people that could be prosecuted under that law.

Two people that you thought would grow out of themselves never did: The hyperactive jittery nerd who thinks he's funny but really isn't and the angry bitter nerd who takes his misery at being a nerd out on the rest of the world with disdain and disrespect. They're both in one of my classes.

At some restaurants, when you tip the waiter, that waiter has to then tip the bartenders, barbacks, busboys, etc…. meaning that the waiter makes like $4/hr and then your crappy tip has to be split amongst several people.

I have a student who is Irish. Or Scottish. He spoke for the first time this week. Imagine the class's surprise when he got up for his presentation.

office space

So on Fridays, I am one of five -- yes, five -- of the English teachers who teaches a class. Hardly anyone teaches on Fridays. I have a crapload of copies I need to make for class today, because when I was going to do it before, the copy machine was broken (surprise surprise). I wait until today to go copy stuff, and I am halfway done and this jackass I've never seen before (not in English, perhaps in the neighboring poli sci dept?) comes in to "check his mailbox." He says nothing. Then he walks back by again. A few minutes later, I figure, perhaps he needs to make a copy of something, he just had a paper or two in his hand, so I get off the copier and commence organizing my papers. He comes in and says, "Are you done with the copier?" Like, yeah, idiot, and you could have just asked me a few minutes ago and I'd have let you in. So I figure, he has at most a few class sets of this one set of papers, no problem.

Oh, no... he then has to search the breakroom out for a stapler remover and intricately remove the staple and then peruse the sheets to consider the best copying method. Ugh. I just grabbed my crap and left. Just his annoying presence was getting on my nerves, even before he did that.

Have I mentioned I hate people?