So I'm sitting here, typing away, watching Toby sit on Ben's head. I have to capture this moment. Toby has learned a new trick! Yay! As if eating toilet paper & carpet isn't enough. I'm a little surprised that she took so long to learn this particular trick since we hold her all of the time and she has such a penchant for climbing. She's practically made of velcro the way she sticks to us to much when we're in the house. I think that these particular cats are a bit puppy as well what with the way that they walk around the house, holding their toys in their mouths, crying for attention. And, they generally follow us from room to room, especially at tnight.
So Toby has learned a new trick. She has learned how to not only climb onto our shoulders while we are holding her (and frankly, she's really pretty slippery at times), but she has also learned how to jump onto our backs/shoulders while we are standing. She's even pretty good at jumping & balancing on the backs (not really all that thick) of our dining room chairs. She's quite the talented one, I assure you. This is mostly funny because it happens to Ben a whole lot more than it happens to me. But now that Ben has taught her how to do it (and yes, she was encouraged by him, not me), she does it ALL of the time. It can be quite unnerving when you're cooking and all of a sudden Toby is balancing on your shoulders.
She's moved beyond just balancing, however. Now, she settles in and basically camps out on your shoulders/back. Hence why she is sitting on Ben's head. She's laying parallel to Ben so that her head is betwee his shoulder blades and her bum is squarely situated on his head. Laying down. Quite happy. Probably purring (she purrs a lot). If I knew how to put a picture on here, I would. This moment should be enjoyed by more than just myself.
"Cats regard people as warm blooded furniture."
Jacquelyn Mitchard
Saturday, February 23, 2008
Monday, February 18, 2008
New nephew
So we haven't met him yet, but Ben & I just looked at the first pictures of our (first) newborn nephew, Jacob. His older sister looks very mature and happy with her new brother.
By the way...someone used the word "erudite" in class tonight. I giggled (on the inside). :-)
"There is no cure for birth and death save to enjoy the interval." George Santayana
By the way...someone used the word "erudite" in class tonight. I giggled (on the inside). :-)
"There is no cure for birth and death save to enjoy the interval." George Santayana
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
Meandering thoughts
All is going pretty well tonight. Toby is sleeping in a bag. Leo is cuddling with me (not with Ben). I'm pretending to do homework. My laptop is working again. And, I found an interesting book today..."The Pirate Cookbook".
So embarrassing happening of today. It had snowed and iced during the day, which meant that I needed to scrape my windshield before I could drive, which is saying something if you could have seen my windshield into school this morning. Yet, I don't have an ice scraper in my car. Wierd. It used to be there. It's not like I've never needed one before. So I did what any intrepid and inventive teacher would do. I interrupted someone else's class in order to relay my problem and have them solve it. It was hard work too!
Apparantly our garage door froze shut (that's never happened before) Sunday and didn't decide to open again until Sunday afternoon. As soon as I couldn't get my car out, I felt trapped, thus reminding me of my dependence on my freedom. I even went to school to work for a while, partly because I needed to and partly because I needed out of the house! Sad.
Leo is offering his fuzzy white belly up to be rubbed by all of you right now. If there is an all of you.
Alexander the Great was embalmed in honey.
Because we were frozen into our house on Sunday, we didn't get to church. Because we didn't get to church, we didn't drop off the 40 cookies that I had baked Saturday night to take to church Sunday morning. Now I have many cookies. Many. I'm willing to save some for anyone who comes to visit me. :-)
Sugar cookies, half dipped in chocolate. Mmmm.
2nd annual chocolate fest, February 29, 2:45
"Part of the secret of success in life is to eat what you like and let the food fight it out inside."
Mark Twain
So embarrassing happening of today. It had snowed and iced during the day, which meant that I needed to scrape my windshield before I could drive, which is saying something if you could have seen my windshield into school this morning. Yet, I don't have an ice scraper in my car. Wierd. It used to be there. It's not like I've never needed one before. So I did what any intrepid and inventive teacher would do. I interrupted someone else's class in order to relay my problem and have them solve it. It was hard work too!
Apparantly our garage door froze shut (that's never happened before) Sunday and didn't decide to open again until Sunday afternoon. As soon as I couldn't get my car out, I felt trapped, thus reminding me of my dependence on my freedom. I even went to school to work for a while, partly because I needed to and partly because I needed out of the house! Sad.
Leo is offering his fuzzy white belly up to be rubbed by all of you right now. If there is an all of you.
Alexander the Great was embalmed in honey.
Because we were frozen into our house on Sunday, we didn't get to church. Because we didn't get to church, we didn't drop off the 40 cookies that I had baked Saturday night to take to church Sunday morning. Now I have many cookies. Many. I'm willing to save some for anyone who comes to visit me. :-)
Sugar cookies, half dipped in chocolate. Mmmm.
2nd annual chocolate fest, February 29, 2:45
"Part of the secret of success in life is to eat what you like and let the food fight it out inside."
Mark Twain
Sunday, February 3, 2008
Crocs & Football
Crocs. The funny, spongy, goofy-looking plastic shoes. They look like they'd last for a few days before falling apart (or disintigrating in water). They come in clownish colors. They have holes in them. How can these possibly be good shoes.
Yet, I love my Crocs. (Mine are red.)
I'm not normally into rushing out and buying the latest fad. But after awhile, I give in. It only took me approximately 4 years to purchase my first pair of capris. I remember laughing at them and thinking how ridiculous they looked the first time I saw them. I love my capris. They are, literally, just about the perfect pair of pants. Flattering to most. Not too hot. Not too cold (usually). And, they match most shoes that I own.
I am still surprised that I even tried on any Crocs let alone buy any. But I love them (even more than my capris). In fact, I really think that these might be the best investment of shoes that I have ever made.
So I think that Ben should try whatever I'm all about because obviously if I love my Crocs then Ben would love Crocs too. Croc insanity hath spread in this house. Ben not only found his own cute little pieces of hole-y plastic, but he found cute little Colts pieces of hole-y plastic. And the best part is...side by side, Croc by Croc, they actually make my feet look small. Crocs are truly the miracle shoe.
************************************************************************************
Football. Before I met Ben, I kind of knew the idea of football, but only because I had to go to every home football game in high school and eventually someone explained the basics to me. Before I met Ben, I don't think that I ever watched a single Colts game. But now, ha, I can (kind of) talk football smack with the best of them...just don't ask me what the difference between a shotgun formation and a slant. In actuality I am pretty good about regurgitating whatever I read in the newspaper and hear other people say about it. But I'm enjoying it. It's really quite a fun game. I've watched more of the post season this year than Ben has...nearly every playoff game. But this is all fair because...
Ben now likes the Braves. Before I met Ben, he thought that the Braves were evil (seeing how he was a lukewarm Reds fan and we all know how fans of teams who never win get jealous of fans of teams who are actually good, whether that good team wins or not...this complex gets much much worse with Cubs fans, unfortunately). Actually, Ben just never watched the Braves and simply had a jaded opinion of the boys in Hot 'Lanta. Now, Ben knows the Braves; he knows the stats, he knows the past players, he knows the good & bad trades, he knows the personal stats of my team. All considering, if Ben's really close second favorite team in baseball is now the Braves, it seems like a small price to pay to learn more about the Colts.
"Nobody in the game of football should be called a genius. A genius is somebody like Norman Einstein."
Joe Theismann
Yet, I love my Crocs. (Mine are red.)
I'm not normally into rushing out and buying the latest fad. But after awhile, I give in. It only took me approximately 4 years to purchase my first pair of capris. I remember laughing at them and thinking how ridiculous they looked the first time I saw them. I love my capris. They are, literally, just about the perfect pair of pants. Flattering to most. Not too hot. Not too cold (usually). And, they match most shoes that I own.
I am still surprised that I even tried on any Crocs let alone buy any. But I love them (even more than my capris). In fact, I really think that these might be the best investment of shoes that I have ever made.
So I think that Ben should try whatever I'm all about because obviously if I love my Crocs then Ben would love Crocs too. Croc insanity hath spread in this house. Ben not only found his own cute little pieces of hole-y plastic, but he found cute little Colts pieces of hole-y plastic. And the best part is...side by side, Croc by Croc, they actually make my feet look small. Crocs are truly the miracle shoe.
************************************************************************************
Football. Before I met Ben, I kind of knew the idea of football, but only because I had to go to every home football game in high school and eventually someone explained the basics to me. Before I met Ben, I don't think that I ever watched a single Colts game. But now, ha, I can (kind of) talk football smack with the best of them...just don't ask me what the difference between a shotgun formation and a slant. In actuality I am pretty good about regurgitating whatever I read in the newspaper and hear other people say about it. But I'm enjoying it. It's really quite a fun game. I've watched more of the post season this year than Ben has...nearly every playoff game. But this is all fair because...
Ben now likes the Braves. Before I met Ben, he thought that the Braves were evil (seeing how he was a lukewarm Reds fan and we all know how fans of teams who never win get jealous of fans of teams who are actually good, whether that good team wins or not...this complex gets much much worse with Cubs fans, unfortunately). Actually, Ben just never watched the Braves and simply had a jaded opinion of the boys in Hot 'Lanta. Now, Ben knows the Braves; he knows the stats, he knows the past players, he knows the good & bad trades, he knows the personal stats of my team. All considering, if Ben's really close second favorite team in baseball is now the Braves, it seems like a small price to pay to learn more about the Colts.
"Nobody in the game of football should be called a genius. A genius is somebody like Norman Einstein."
Joe Theismann
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Lit theory? Holy flaming potholders, Batman!
Sooo...
I dislike literary theory. Vigorously. Some of it is okay I guess, but really overall, what's the point? Why should I really care about structuralism? semiology? new criticism? At this point, I ineveitably question how it is helping me, thus I must leave it to the powers-that-be to decide what I should know (or at least have some better working knowledge of than, say, my dentist). So basically, I think this is going to be one of the more laborious semesters to make it through with the lit. theory intensivity of it. (I think that intensivity is a word...but I have been know to make them up on occasion to suit my needs, like right now.) Not only is my lit. theory class a hard 3 hours to sit through once a week, but my Brit. Modernism class has also been heavily laden with theory thus far (granted, 2 classes into the semester). And, it's not like Modernism is marshmallow reading (definitely not candy books)...I dare you to read Ulysses (Joyce) and find your way out of that morass whole and unscathed. There's a reason why it is taking a graduate level class an entire month of classes to get through it. 12 hours of class over nothing but Joyce/Ulysses.
I just finished my first venture into the at times mind-numbing literary narrative of D. H. Lawrence (I definitively understand why he was banned in the earlier 1900s!), not that it was a bad read, especially since it was completely refreshing to read that rather than lit. theory for a while. That really may be the longest 459-pager ever. On average, I read about a page a minute...this one was about 2 pages per minute through sheer depth in every sentence and paragraph. I cannot recall another text that I have read that just struck me as so full of pointed meaning in every minute detail...remarkable, yet discouraging in its colossal depth. I bet that even Ben (for all of his so-called symbolism inferiority) would have no issues with deciperhing the amount of recurring images.
Holy flaming potholders, Batman! There really is a point to this. I realize that thus far, this particular post is rather heavily weighted toward the literary, so for those of you who aren't really minded as such and may be reading this, here's my offer at levity. So Ben has this theory that I am the cause of all checkbook woes with him because he has never had an issue with balancing his checkbook until me. Not that I dispute this claim (it's not everyone who deposits their paycheck into someone else's bank account and then bounces three checks...). However, I have my own claim. Before Ben I never set anything on fire in the kitchen (melting a plastic container in an oven doesn't count obviously since there was no fire...and those brownies still tasted just fine). Since him... Tonight was my 2nd reason why I should really have a fire extinguisher stored in the kitchen. When we lived in the apartment, I maybe set the oven on fire once. Tonight, I managed the fire on top of the stove. Potholders make kind of a cool noise when they catch on fire, I discovered. Who knew.
An ode to Joyce and flaming potholders both:
"Mistakes are the portals of discovery." James Joyce (1882-1941)
I dislike literary theory. Vigorously. Some of it is okay I guess, but really overall, what's the point? Why should I really care about structuralism? semiology? new criticism? At this point, I ineveitably question how it is helping me, thus I must leave it to the powers-that-be to decide what I should know (or at least have some better working knowledge of than, say, my dentist). So basically, I think this is going to be one of the more laborious semesters to make it through with the lit. theory intensivity of it. (I think that intensivity is a word...but I have been know to make them up on occasion to suit my needs, like right now.) Not only is my lit. theory class a hard 3 hours to sit through once a week, but my Brit. Modernism class has also been heavily laden with theory thus far (granted, 2 classes into the semester). And, it's not like Modernism is marshmallow reading (definitely not candy books)...I dare you to read Ulysses (Joyce) and find your way out of that morass whole and unscathed. There's a reason why it is taking a graduate level class an entire month of classes to get through it. 12 hours of class over nothing but Joyce/Ulysses.
I just finished my first venture into the at times mind-numbing literary narrative of D. H. Lawrence (I definitively understand why he was banned in the earlier 1900s!), not that it was a bad read, especially since it was completely refreshing to read that rather than lit. theory for a while. That really may be the longest 459-pager ever. On average, I read about a page a minute...this one was about 2 pages per minute through sheer depth in every sentence and paragraph. I cannot recall another text that I have read that just struck me as so full of pointed meaning in every minute detail...remarkable, yet discouraging in its colossal depth. I bet that even Ben (for all of his so-called symbolism inferiority) would have no issues with deciperhing the amount of recurring images.
Holy flaming potholders, Batman! There really is a point to this. I realize that thus far, this particular post is rather heavily weighted toward the literary, so for those of you who aren't really minded as such and may be reading this, here's my offer at levity. So Ben has this theory that I am the cause of all checkbook woes with him because he has never had an issue with balancing his checkbook until me. Not that I dispute this claim (it's not everyone who deposits their paycheck into someone else's bank account and then bounces three checks...). However, I have my own claim. Before Ben I never set anything on fire in the kitchen (melting a plastic container in an oven doesn't count obviously since there was no fire...and those brownies still tasted just fine). Since him... Tonight was my 2nd reason why I should really have a fire extinguisher stored in the kitchen. When we lived in the apartment, I maybe set the oven on fire once. Tonight, I managed the fire on top of the stove. Potholders make kind of a cool noise when they catch on fire, I discovered. Who knew.
An ode to Joyce and flaming potholders both:
"Mistakes are the portals of discovery." James Joyce (1882-1941)
Thursday, January 10, 2008
Happy Unexpectedness
Imagine the scenario:
26 special needs students (learning disabled, emotionally disabled, autistic...some just lazy)
4 adults (teachers/aides)
1 school bus taking this rag-tag group to Indianapolis to watch what would be for most of the group a real, honest-to-goodness play (who knew that people acted in real life and not just in movies and on tv?!?)
Such was my workday. When I woke up with a headache (and who wakes up with a headache?? there's been no time in the day to accumulate enough headache fodder!), I was figuring that it was surely some sort of physical sign that taking this bunch of kids on a field trip was an exercise in futility.
Alas, the trip was a dream. The kids were a dream. My doubts were guiltily assuaged. I feel vindicated for my wanting to trust these kids, who many other teachers would never (justifiably) take beyond their classroom door. In fact!!! the kids beat 3 of the 4 chaperones (yes, including myself) back to the appointed meeting place. They were on time, I/we were five minutes late. How often does that happen when too many of these kids try to play beat-the-clock with the tardy bell before our class begins. As a sugary candy cherry on top of this deliciously relief-filled field trip, they even left our school bus in the same condition as when we got on (i.e. they left no trash on the bus that my previous groups of seniors have). How cool are they??? Bless them for overall being more nicely dressed than many other students in the theatre. Bless them for (overall) staying awake and drawn-in by their first ever stage production. Bless them for the joy of adventure that they exhibited as many of them visited the new, exciting territory of the Indianapolis mall (serious grandiosity in their eyes) for lunch. My optimism hath been restored.
Hope magazine: I have no website information beyond this...http://www.hopeforwomenmag.com/. I know that it's not much.
May the happy feelings associated with the smells of freshly baked bread wash over you. I'm sniffing some of that scent right now, just for you! The sacrifice is great.
Politeness and consideration for others is like investing pennies and getting dollars back.
Thomas Sowell
26 special needs students (learning disabled, emotionally disabled, autistic...some just lazy)
4 adults (teachers/aides)
1 school bus taking this rag-tag group to Indianapolis to watch what would be for most of the group a real, honest-to-goodness play (who knew that people acted in real life and not just in movies and on tv?!?)
Such was my workday. When I woke up with a headache (and who wakes up with a headache?? there's been no time in the day to accumulate enough headache fodder!), I was figuring that it was surely some sort of physical sign that taking this bunch of kids on a field trip was an exercise in futility.
Alas, the trip was a dream. The kids were a dream. My doubts were guiltily assuaged. I feel vindicated for my wanting to trust these kids, who many other teachers would never (justifiably) take beyond their classroom door. In fact!!! the kids beat 3 of the 4 chaperones (yes, including myself) back to the appointed meeting place. They were on time, I/we were five minutes late. How often does that happen when too many of these kids try to play beat-the-clock with the tardy bell before our class begins. As a sugary candy cherry on top of this deliciously relief-filled field trip, they even left our school bus in the same condition as when we got on (i.e. they left no trash on the bus that my previous groups of seniors have). How cool are they??? Bless them for overall being more nicely dressed than many other students in the theatre. Bless them for (overall) staying awake and drawn-in by their first ever stage production. Bless them for the joy of adventure that they exhibited as many of them visited the new, exciting territory of the Indianapolis mall (serious grandiosity in their eyes) for lunch. My optimism hath been restored.
Hope magazine: I have no website information beyond this...http://www.hopeforwomenmag.com/. I know that it's not much.
May the happy feelings associated with the smells of freshly baked bread wash over you. I'm sniffing some of that scent right now, just for you! The sacrifice is great.
Politeness and consideration for others is like investing pennies and getting dollars back.
Thomas Sowell
Saturday, January 5, 2008
424-257
No matter which way you look at it, 424-257 is a thorough domination in Scrabble. Luckily, I was on the higher end of the the score (guess who lost). This is the (only) time of year when you want me on your team. Quick, someone organize a game of Euchre so that I can win for once!
Check out Hope magazine for women, published out of Muncie, IN, especially if you're a woman since it's designed to reach out to this demograhic in particular. It seems like I will be working in some capacity for them proofing/editing. I believe that the website is going through an overhaul, but I was told this morning that my name will appear on the masthead as well. As if teaching and taking classes weren't enough already...!
"Always be nice to those younger than you, because they are the ones who will be writing about you."
Cyril Connolly
Check out Hope magazine for women, published out of Muncie, IN, especially if you're a woman since it's designed to reach out to this demograhic in particular. It seems like I will be working in some capacity for them proofing/editing. I believe that the website is going through an overhaul, but I was told this morning that my name will appear on the masthead as well. As if teaching and taking classes weren't enough already...!
"Always be nice to those younger than you, because they are the ones who will be writing about you."
Cyril Connolly
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