Girassol

So the new school year is going OK

We are now in the fourth week of the school year.  HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE?  It is only September and I am already freaking out about how fast the year is going!!! 

I have a good group of kids this year -- about half of them are kids I've had before, and half are new.  I got very spoiled last year when a new teacher came and doubled the size of the Spanish department (from 1 to 2!) and I got to keep all the upper level kids and had NO freshmen and NO new names to learn.  It was blissful. 

It is incredible how much growing up teenagers can do when you don't see them over the summer.  They look physically different, of course, but even more noticeable are the social and emotional changes they make.  Sophomores walk in with a spring in their step that says, "Not being a freshman anymore is so SWEET!"  Juniors have turned into upperclassmen with attitudes and ambitions and the exuberant independence a driver's license can bring.  Seniors have a look in their eyes that is half "I have so totally arrived, and my friends and I are going to rock this place" and half "Holy crap I have to figure out what I'm doing with the rest of my life FAST."   

One of the things I like the most about a new school year is reconnecting with my students and seeing how their personality, and especially their sense of humor, develops as they get older.  On Friday afternoon during a test, the following exchange happened between Jiggywidit (a very white boy who wishes he were from the hood, and who is funny but not as funny as he thinks he is), Brainiac (a tall, awkward kid who is known for being a brain and NOT for being funny), and myself:

Jiggywidit:  Señorita, I'll pay you five bucks if you tell me all the answers.

Me:  Jiggy, dude, I would never sell my soul to you for a measly five dollars.

Brainiac:  How about ten?

Not bad, brain boy!  Cracked everybody up, especially since he was the LAST kid in the class who would have needed the answers anyway.  The best part about it was the look on his face when he realized he had just successfully, and with spot-on timing, had a class clown moment.  So great!

Then, the fire drill bell rang and everyone had to evacuate the building and so they probably all compared answers anyway while they filed outside.   

They're sharing a drink they call loneliness, but it's better than drinking alone

I live in a historic house that predates the Civil War.  It's charming and quaint, sure.  It's also old enough that certain modern conveniences, like air conditioning, are out of the question.  The house is not built for it.  Not even for a window unit, as the electrical wiring won't support it.  So during the dog days of a Pennsylvania summer (90°and 69% humidity at lunchtime yesterday), I pull out the fans and sweat it out. I also live downtown on a street that gets enough traffic to send a good coating of dust through my windows daily.  The front wall of my house is right on the sidewalk, and with the windows open it is downright loud most of the time. I've gotten quite good at tuning out the dust, heat, and noise, and going about my business. 

Sometimes, though, things happen out on the street that I would never be aware of if I didn't live in this old house with the windows open, and it feels like the universe has just sent me a treat.  Like this morning.  I'm sitting at my desk, checking my e-mail, when I become aware that the traffic outside has stopped at the red light, and I can hear loud music blasting from someone's car.  Normally it's rap with the bass turned up so loudly that my windows rattle, or Nickelback.  The people in my traffic are exceedingly fond of Nickelback.  But this morning?  Billy Joel.  Specifically, the song "Piano Man."  Accompanied by some driver who is singing along with reckless abandon.  In a Jetta, with the windows down.  He's sitting at a red light, singing a Billy Joel song with his head thrown back and his eyes closed.  Singing badly.

You know the saying, "Work like you don't need the money, love like you've never been hurt, and dance like no one's watching."  I'm going to add to it, "Sing like no one is listening."  Because that just made my whole morning.  Jetta Dude, we're all in the mood for a melody, and you've got us feelin' alright.

The Paris Hilton of the motorcycle world

Every summer, my town hosts a Bike Week, which is when something like 15,000 Harley-Davidsons meet here, cruise around on their choppers and participate in tattoo contests.  When I first moved in, I was nervous that it would be rough and scary, but it's actually a very community-friendly event, and the bikers are some of the nicest, friendliest people I've seen come through here.  Yet, they've still got that tough exterior thing going on.

So last night I'm driving downtown, and as I stop at a stoplight, I hear a dog yipping at me. I turn my head left to see what's going on, and there's a dude on a Harley (totally tricked out, with a trailer and custom everything), with his sleeves rolled up and his boots and his American flag doo-rag and stubble and everything.  And he's holding a tiny, fluffy bichon frise ON HIS LAP. And the dog is wearing a doo-rag and motorcycle goggles.

Awesome!

ppl r so funny lol :-)

So this morning I got a message from my phone saying memory was running low and I should delete some messages.  While reading through everything stored in my phone, I found some texts that made me laugh.  If they don't make you laugh, go read these because her friends are funnier than mine.

I'm in class and i just peed off the top of a mountain.

I have a retarded boss.

Fyi i was singing about throngs today & thought u would b interested :P

I'm on my way to the snow palace!

Don't be such a curmudgeon.

She leaves Tues. and we're gonna hang out a couple more times.  Get a little more action!

Omg!  You r the math grandmaster!

Hey, M doesn't have your bikini trimmers.

I miss you and my wardrobe does too.

D and H broke up.  We should do something for him like get him a voodoo doll and ice cream.

I'm single again.  But everything's ok and I won't throw rocks at her!

Rolling stones tonite.  seats close enuf to squeez mcjaggers bum.  also free.

I have coloring books for the boys but I will be in canada on sat.

I am getting seriously hit on by a waiter at montezuma.  Help!

Down with the pig tie!

I'm gonna be a half blind freak, yahoo!

So is it motorific?  Have you seen any hot mullets?

Black suit.

she doesnt know.  Shes sleeping

Can't talk.  I'm at a marching band competition.

You wanted to get a shave with a straight edge razor.

What constitutes a mountain?  Call me.

I just found a piece of paper where you wrote ride a double decker bus so put that on your list ok?

Today i passed a restaurant called the red horse steak house and anvil bar, whatever that is... Naturally i thought of you!

Some people spend their summer vacation by visiting the beach or hosting a barbeque. These people clearly are not true Pennsylvanians.

Overheard this week at Curves:

Woman #1:  Where were ya at this mornin'?  I tried callin' ya ta see what time ya were comin' in.

Woman #2:  Yeah, we wasn't around.  We had ta go d'the taxidermist, ya know.  Fer our bear.

Mad Scientist

This is my little brother, the geological research assistant:

While he was home for a visit last month, we had an interesting conversation about dating, and about how there are certain deal-breaking things that a person might do that will immediately exclude them from your "dating gene pool."  Mine was if a guy has a tattoo of a cartoon character, or wears cartoon character t-shirts, or worse, cartoon character ties.  (Just today, I saw a guy with a tattoo of a Tasmanian devil in a footbal helmet on his bicep.  There are WAY TOO MANY of these people.)  Little bro, it turns out, has an aversion to those teeny-tiny shrug sweaters. 

You know what happens when you start talking fashion with a scientist?  You get new and improved garment-related terminology, perfect for the runway AND the lab!

Behold, the "exoskeleton bra sweater"!

Mack Grandaddy

My grandad was widowed last fall, and is wasting no time in getting back out into the dating game.  He is seeing a "nice Christian lady" named Lucille, and they have gone out on "six or seven dates."  This afternoon he was over for lunch and was telling us about how Lucille is a good woman, a good cook, a good pianist, a good this, a good that, and a good the other.  I asked him, "So, is she a good kisser?"

His reply: "Oh, I wouldn't know about that.  We don't go any farther than sex just yet."

The REAL Reason All Those Pioneers Had So Many Children

My 75-year-old grandfather has a lot on his mind lately:

"I often think of those women going across the plains... you know, menstruating, and the like.  I mean, in the first place they must have been uncomfortable, and in the second place they were a mess.  Nothing to use but grasses!  No wonder they were pregnant all the time!"