FOR SERIOUS. I was very specific last week that Thursday mornings are henceforth supposed to be deliciously sunny for my weekly ME binge. Someone out there made a mistake and ordered the wrong kind of weather today. I will probably forgive you, though, so feel free to let me know who it was. You might not get a Christmas card from this year, however.
I don't have much to write about today, but I like this time for writing, so I'm going to throw something out there anyway. Plus, we were able to finagle a new, free (what to the what what???) laptop (touch screen, too...weird) over the summer and got it a few weeks ago. As much as I hated the last one, which we still have and which still works, I actually don't like this one a whole lot better. Other than the keyboard...other than the keyboard. It's clackity-ness is really ideal for promoting writing. Watch out students! I'm going to be writing longer comments on your writing!!! Not so much.
Lest you think that I over exaggerate my point about not having anything to write about, I will now recount a short conversation I had on the phone with my dad yesterday.
Dad: So what's new with you?
Me: Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
Dad: Nothing at all?
Me: No. Really.
Boring, no? Boring, yes.
Did I tell you that there's a C.O.T.D. (coffee of the day) at my new fav Thursday morning hangout? It's kind of a high point of my week now--guessing what the flavor will be. I'm never right. But I will be one day (shaking fist in the air, all Scarlett O'Hara style)!
(I warned you...I have nothing of much interest to really write about. Thanks for sticking with me.)
Oh, I got some serious hate mail from an angry, petulant student this week. Yaaaaay. Bless his creepy, 40-something heart. In 10 years of being employed as an educator, and having some seriously disgruntled students in that space of time, this ranks right up there at the top of the list. My top 3 list of angry student/parent encounters: the student who threw a highlighter at me as he left my class for the office because of who knows what (and was summarily removed from my class); the angry mom who blind ambushed me in my classroom after school and ripped me apart for the lies that her son was telling her to protect himself (and he was there...wouldn't look at me); and the juvenile, angry, creepster who really should know better (this is college, my friend) & has a history of childish behavior I have since found out.
I kid you not, I have a taser (gift, of sorts, from my dad to all of the females in the family) and will probably start carrying it with me on Monday nights. The boy suggested pepper spray. Another person proposed wasp spray. Suffice it to say, campus security has been notified. Sad, friends...sad.
I didn't tell my dad about angry 40-something-male student. He already gave me a taser, no need to instigate a litany of "Be carefuls..."
The sun came out! I'm actually part cat, or so the boy claimed in college. See, I had this 2nd story south facing window in my room (shout out White House!) during my senior year, which afforded me a small patch of late day sun. And in that drafty old place, the warm spots were hard to come by.
Lest I ramble ad infinitum, I'll end with this happiness. I had Sweetness with me in the grocery story yesterday for a yogurt, eggs & bananas run post-gymnastics, and at one point, she climbed out of the car-cart to look at something when I stopped for a moment. While she was out, I had turned the cart around to move on, and when she turned around, she was obviously surprised as she loudly (loudly!) exclaimed "Yowzers!" Really. Yowzers. It's no wonder I can't help but kiss her little pizza dough cheeks.
So with that I say here's to the end of another nothing-happening week. Yowzers!
P.S. If you're wondering about what kind of technology our Kindergarten program is using, I posted a follow-up comment about apps and such. Feel free to chat about what you think, what you use, and home schooling if it applies to you. I might write about homeschooling in the near future as it's an intriguing option that seems to be mushrooming wildly. Maybe I just run with the cool cats.