Tongue in Cheek

Congratulations to Dave, who after a devestating apartment fire in which he lost everything, has just announced his engagement to Zooey Deschanel, and subsequent Target registry.

But seriously, check out the registry. And Zooey Deschanel. She's hot.

The Right Image?

The speaker at our teacher's convention the past few days was quite compelling. He did use one metaphor I can't quite get out of my head. He said that we as teachers should reflect Christ so that when "students rub up against us they smell Jesus." Eeeewwwww.

Speaking of children, I get to babysit the nearly-named-after-an-eagle nephew next week when I'm home. whoo-hooo!

Worth the chance?

It's teaching days like today when having kids seems a lot like playing Russian roulette. There are the kids about whom I think "That is the sweetest, kindest child I've ever seen." Then there are the ones who I swear I will never, ever, in a million years, name any child after. How do people get pregnant when you have no idea what you're going to get?

Back Off!

I love shopping. I admit it, fully and openly. What I do not love is the zealots that run the mall kiosks. I've tried being nice, but it gets me nowhere. They don't take no for an answer, though I've told them endless times I'm not interested in pink straightening irons, bulghur-filled neck pillows, or (gasp!) moving printed beach scenes in a lamp/picture/keychain.

So last night I'm in the mall, trying to finish Christmas shopping so I don't have to go anywhere near the slow-walking crowds who will soon descend. I'm walking past a kiosk. Now, when I walk past kiosk, I make some deliberate "Don't talk to me!" moves and use as much body language as possible. First, I look at the person in the eyes, look down, and purposefully break eye contact. Next I visibly veer off my path toward the edge of the mall, away from the shady gift-monger. Appearantly this is not enough.

Despite my dodging the guy last night verbally accosted me: "Ma'am, can I ask you a small question?" Instead of self-proclaimed witty banter of how many letters are included in a small question, I said forcefully "No." Still, he did not relent. And this almost made me laugh out loud. He said "Ohhh" like he was sad. "It's a really good one."

Now, what might be a really good question from a man standing in front of a kiosk selling pink and white zebra-printed straightening irons? I guess I'll never know. I kept walking.

Cats + Stuff

Cats with Stuff on Them is capital "H" Hilarious! Thanks Panda!

Those Good Iowans

I was watching Extreme Makeover: Home Edition tonight, and was reminded of an episode a few weeks ago. The family was from Iowa, and had moved from the city out to the farm because they thought it would help their kids to grow up "right." The reason they got a home makeover was that they had a fire and their house burnt down.

They built them a beautiful house, had a few sentimental moments, and the obligatory Iowa activity--a combine derby. Even having been a trophy girl at a tractor pull this summer, I didn't know combine derbys existed until a fellow Iowan at school told me.

Anyway, after the house was built the Extreme Makeover team kept talking about how friendly and caring the Iowans were, helping with construction, moving furniture, etc. And I couldn't disagree more.

The episode came up in the teacher's lounge the next day, and I was surprised that we all agreed--this shouldn't have happened. In the towns where we grew up, no one would have let someone's house burn down without rebuilding it. A good neighbor and a good small town pulls together to get families through those times. There are soup suppers and pancake breakfasts and change cans at Walmart to help raise money. People give money for their school tuition and donate clothing.

Elections: Whoo-hoo!

I love election day! California's proposition makes me feel like I'm really participating in democracy, though it's not quite as hopeful when you realize all the stupid people participate too. Regardless, my usual cynicism about politics seems to take a back seat to the actual process on election day. Too bad they don't give out the "I voted!" stickers to people who vote absentee.

I put up my Christmas tree tonight. Yep, skipped straight from Halloween to Christmas. Being gone for Thanksgiving though makes me feel like that's okay. There's that, and the fact that I do not own any cornucopia decorations.

I do, however, own a Christmas tree. It's one of the easy ones, already strung with lights. Managing to drag it up from the basement storage was not easy, but definitely worth it. I didn't put it up last year, so it was a surprise to open the boxes with the decorations.

I'd forgotten how many ornaments I have, and I thought I would never be taken with a sentimental, schmaltzy attachment to decorations, but I was wrong. The tree skirt my grandmother gave me and the disco ball ornaments I brought to Haiti brought back the fondest memories.

My grandmother has made stockings and tree skirts for my family as long as I can remember. She embroiders all the sequins and stitching on them, and personalizes each one with a name. Right now there are four generations in my family who all have stockings and tree skirts made by her.

The disco balls are great because they remind me of our Haitian Christmas tree: a dead tree, painted white, cemented into a paint can. I'm confident that Charity is decorating hers as I write. Anyway, the disco balls have lasted from that sad little Charlie Brown tree all the way to my grown up, already lit tree. Yea for them!

Happy Belated Halloween!

Happy belated Halloween everyone! Last year I said Reformation Day because I planned the R-day celebration at school. This year we took a field trip to a science museum. I liked Martin Luther better, personally.

And a huge THANKS! to Dave for the fabulous costume idea. Though my embroidery skills are obviously not as stellar as Hester's, it won me third place at a Halloween party last night. I think it could have been higher if the other party-goers knew who Hester Prynne was and why I was carrying a Cabbage Patch Kid around. Then again, I didn't know who the one-armed drummer from Def Leppard was. Oh well. I did win orange hot chocolate, so that makes up for it. Thanks for that, Chef Mayhem!