tirade tuesday 9/26

i don't have much to tirade about that will interest most people, but allow me to step onto my soapbox for just a few moments.

today we had a professional development day at school. it's always fun to sit in monotonous meetings for hours and listen to your colleagues tell you shit you already know or shit you could care less about. shit, regardless.

so today, three teachers present from a meeting they attended yesterday. let me take two steps back and say that the hand-picking of teachers to attend such meetings is complete bullshit. it's about who can kiss who's ass more. and the caliber of these choices is, well, poor. okay, so anyway...they are talking to us about curriculum mapping, assessment frameworks, blah, blah, blah. and one of the teachers makes the comment (coming from our area instructors) that "the standards need to be followed. basically, the cutesy, fun, thematic stuff needs to go." um, try again.

school is not fun. teaching is not fun. there will be no fun. books need to be followed. no color, only black and white, will be allowed. students will only use pencil and paper. scripts will be distributed. in a dramatic summary, it seems this is what's being passed down.

i will not follow these demands. i will continue to do the fun things that my kids enjoy. isn't there such a thing of having kids enjoy learning to create lifelong learners?!

the bottom line is that states, filtering down to the school districts, are getting scared. they're scared that federal funding is going to decrease more than it already is due to 'no child left behind'. it's ridiculous.

i expect to see a generation that is flat. they won't yearn for knowledge because boring instruction has been crammed down their throats.

i wish there were more people that would speak up and explain the damage that is being done. we will have many children left behind if we don't make some changes NOW!

i only give to gucci

i live in chicago. i expect to see people along the streets, holding their signs explaining that god will bless me if i give them my spare change. i'm used to seeing the vietnam vet with his matted hair, dingy clothes and limp, hoping for my dollar. but today's panhandler takes the cake.

each day i come to the intersection of sheridan and hollywood. the multitude of lights almost guarantee that i'll be sitting for a while. i've noticed a few times, a middle-aged lady walking between the lines of cars with her neatly folded sign reading 'spare change'. she always seems well dressed, much different from others with their tattered and torn clothing and dirt-covered faces. today, however, was a slightly different story. no, there wasn't an inch of dirt or tear in her clothes. instead, it was even better.

this lady, with her highlighted hair pulled back in a tight braid, walked between the cars as usual. unfolding her sign to reveal her request for loose change, i noticed her nice capris, a rather expensive looking jacked and WHAT? is that seriously a prada bag over your shoulder? and you want spare change?!

a wild assumption would lead me to believe that if you're asking for spare change you wouldn't be able to afford your highlights and nice clothing. and definitely not your prada bag!

c'mon lady! make it look real!

and he makes my lunch!

irritations turned golden.

SWAlife
i used to make fun/get irritated with gary being on SWAlife (a website to mangage his work schedule). constantly, he was clicking away to look at trips, see where people were, and hope to find a better paying or easier trip. i now view this once-hated website much differently. for you see, it was able to get us a fantastic, inexpensive trip to paris this summer. and now that i know how to use SWAlife, i must say that it's as fun as playing the quarter slots at a vegas casino! it's a rush trading trips, looking to see who has the better trip available (all other sorts of fun stuff that now i, too, am obsessed with as the husband of a air hostess).

OCD/anal retentiveness
while i too am as anal as they come, gary is fanatic about certain things that i, to be honest, could care less about. one of those is balancing the checkbook on a daily basis. per his request, i am to keep my receipts from my many debit card purchases so that he can write them in the checkbook immediately to know the up-to-the-minute balance of our account. now, after going through the checkbook and looking at the bank's balance of our account, there seemed to be a slight difference in the two amounts. three months of account statements were quickly printed out and the reconciling of the account (from the time it was opened) quickly began. SIDE NOTE: i use my debit card like it's on fire...no wonder i've had to request new cards! ... okay, back to the story. so, at the end of month two/beginning of month three, it became clear. my boyfriend's OCD/anal retentiveness caused the duplication of four transactions and a $115 in our favor!

seriously, how can i not love this boy for everything he is?!

the evolution of straight boys

i have come to the realization that most straight boys have not finished the process of evolution.

after walking behind a sad male specimen wearing a purdue tshirt (strike #1), i watched the way he walked. wearing his flip-flops, he walked much like a duck or some other bill-footed animal. his feet were turned outward, unable to walk with his feet pointing the direction of travel. this was not a rare case, as i've noticed other straight males walking similarly.

next, their dialogue. it sounds much like their caveman predecessors. replies or comments to their kind sound like grunts. it is definitely unable to be deciphered by those further in the evolution process.

finally, their ability to select a mate. watching and/or hearing my female friends attempting to hold a mere intellectual conversation with these neanderthals is almost humorous. they might as well say "ugh! you woman. i take you back to the cave and make you mine. we make baby." not even slightly coy about their intent.

i do not speak for all of their kind, but for the majority, a few more thousand years will be required for them to move along the evolutionary process.

i'm jill....

i just pulled a jill. i was walking around the house, perplexed.

"where the hell is my phone?!"

oh, that's right....it's in my pocket.

seriously? c'mon!

i'm sitting here, enjoying a relaxing glass of wine, pondering a few things that are seriously baffling me right now.

1) what fuck nut seriously allowed kevin federline to record a rap album? i'm watching 'ellen' with k-fed as her guest. i'd just like to remind him that he's white and nothing but pure trash. aside from his sad performance, my favorite comment had to be when he was talking about how much people love britney. um, k-fed, we think she's trash, too. but alas, you're two peas in a trailer park pod.

2) when did it become okay to stand outside on the fire escape of your building and enjoy your after-work-doobie? i mean, could you be any more obvious?

training little soldiers

my first day back with kids. i was excited. i was anxious to meet the little ones that would fill the desks. my nerves began to rise as the time drew closer to the opening bell. i met them outside, with parents asking a multitude of questions.

our day went fairly smoothly, but i seemed to have forgotten just how needy and helpless new first graders are. this morning, we were only able to accomplish a few things on the list of many activities planned for the day.

having the kids introduce one another and themselves was a chore. they were shy, embarrassed, and not quite sure how to respond to me and their peers. we pushed through. next came collecting their supplies. after piling the tissues, baby wipes, copy paper, and ziploc bags, we moved on to their school supplies.

"i have scissors!"

"i have two glue sticks!"

"i have a purple folder!"

great. good for you. excellent, but i didn't ask for that. just a few of my remarks!

it took 20 minutes to teach them procedures to potty. yes, it seems brainless to us, but imagine getting 24 kids to go to the bathroom quietly, without disrupting others, and to find their squares to form the perfect, straight line for mr. hahn.

i look at the clock. it's 11. 15 minutes until lunch and we have yet to discuss rules, let alone tour the lunch room, foreign to them.

the afternoon allowed us more time to complete the things i had originally hoped to accomplish.

45 minutes until the end of the day, it was already time to pack up. with 24 kids and 5,328 papers to go home to their parents, it was just enough time to teach them how to use their "take-home folder", color in their behavior, read a chapter of "junie b. - first grader at last", and send them on their way (only after teaching them which way their chair should face when stacked on their desk at the end of the day and the importance of picking up trash off the floor!)

i thought to myself: i wish we were 6 weeks into the school year. the kids would know the routine, and i would have to say very little to get them to do what i asked.

eventually, i will have trained my 24 little soldiers. and room 113 will be the envy of the school.

day 2, here we come!

my feet hurt. my back is sore. i am exhausted!