peachyteachy

For realsies

Rage of the No-Bake Cookies March 21, 2015

I was so pissed tonight when I went to make No-Bake Chocolate Oatmeal Cookies, aka Cowpies, aka Pooper Cookies, —and there was almost no sugar! In a fit of rage,  I wrote “SUGAR” in Sharpie ink, many times, on the grocery list.  Then I told the dog to shut up. What the fuck is so hard about putting words on the damned grocery list? This is, after all, the definition of a sin of omission. A Seven Deadly Sin of Omission.

There is no question that this is disproportionate rage. I suspect that there may be hormones prodding at me with sharpened mini-spears, but then I think about the dismissal that accompanies hormone-related rage, and that just pisses me off more.  I am a good time today, for sure.  Then someone messes with my chocolate therapy.

As I was ascending the stairway, laptop in hand, I was asked if I was “going up?” No, I thought, I am going down in a massive fireball, and if you dare to make a comment about “going down,” you are going to experience post-fireball nuclear winter of biblical proportions.

I believe that I fall into the category of “peri-menopausal,” which means that I get the menopaus-ish crap AND the PMS-ish terrorism, only twice as often. This probably is why going to work on Mondays feels like the Bataan Death March (in addition to the fact that I am a teacher, and therefore responsible for the Pipeline to Prison}.  But, dude, don’t say a word about the hormones, because the result will be that I will, as the youngsters say, cut you.

I’m a good time, in case I didn’t mention it, or you missed it. .

I make up for it by making nice treats for the fam.   Unless someone has used up the sugar and failed to utilize the list that could be  employed  by a lobotomized chimpanzee.

For those of you who do keep the most basic of ingredients on hand, here’s the recipe!

http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/katie-lee/no-bake-cow-pile-cookies.html

image: http://thebestcookierecipes.net/wp-content/uploads/2014/12/peanut-butter-oatmeal-no-bake-cookie-recipe.jpg

 

Drinking the Kool Aid of the Cult of Inadequacy March 15, 2015

Filed under: family,humor,inspiration,life — peachyteachy @ 12:32 pm
Tags: , , ,

Everyone likes a good shortcut, I suppose.  In the era of multitasking and inadequacy, I fear that things are getting out of hand. When the hell did Hints from Heloise morph into life hacks? I know that it emerged from the geek world, but if you find  yourself bringing a Magic Eraser® into the shower to multitask/hack in there, you might very well be drinking that Kool Aid®, and chances are that you have been Pinterest-shamed out of ever purchasing that powdery pack of sugar and color again.  Cuz that is not clean food. That is hair dye.

And another thing: the word “hack” brings to my mind images of a saw, used to escape dark and dreary prisons (as opposed to the light and airy prisons where they keep the criminally adequate), 0r something I might find in the bottom of one of my second grade students’ backpacks.

Have you ever clicked on a link to a video of three hundred hacks for apple cider vinegar? No. No, neither have I. All of these opportunities to become better than ever before through the miracle of life hacking have made me feel less together than ever.

That damned eraser displayed no magic, by the way. Kool Aid man, take me away!

 

‘Tis Fried Fish Season March 5, 2015

Filed under: education,humor,music,teaching,Uncategorized — peachyteachy @ 8:02 pm
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I don’t give up special things for Lent, because I have relinquished my sanity, permanently. I figure that should cover it.  Additionally, fish sometimes makes me puke, which is very dramatically Lenten, but a situation I, curiously, strive to avoid.

Today, as I wandered, comatose, around my classroom after the longest instructional day permitted by law, I puzzled over a student name for minutes on end. The best I could discern was that the paper had been generated by my unknown phantom student named “Man Call.”  He’s not on my roster, but that was as close as I could get. There was an identifiable gun in his masterful illustration, which clued me in to the fact that Man Call has an interest in becoming either a police officer or a soldier. The assignment, incidentally, had to do with students making a choice of a “community service worker” that the students might like to be someday.  They were light on veterinarians, heavy on cops and soldiers (one would think that we were under the National Guard and martial law; I think that there has been too much media coverage of our men in uniform removing truckloads of snow from northeastern cities).

I don’t think that Man Call is going to be a police officer.

He is going to become the premier James Brown impersonater in Vegas.

 

Brief Author Grief January 25, 2015

Filed under: authors,books — peachyteachy @ 8:08 pm
Tags: ,

I just finished reading my first David Rakoff book.

Sharp pain at the fact that he will not be adding more volumes, once I have exhausted the rest of his published stuff.

Big baby, I think—you don’t get sad that Shakespeare is dead and won’t be contributing more to the Complete Works.

Some folks are prolific enough.

Still. . .

 

2015 For the Type Z Personality OR The Forever Sink January 4, 2015

If I read or hear the phrase “New Year, New You” once more, it is very likely that I will throw a slipper.  A new one.  A Christmas  present–from me.

That is because my aspiration for 2015 is to wear them as often as is humanly possible.  I can do it.  They have  rubber soles that will help me to disguise them as shoes should I accidentally exit the house before spring.

If I can tell  you where my slippers are, then I don’t need another de-cluttering checklist.

Slippers? Check!

IMG_0467

My super-achiever sensibility has filtered down to my 10-year-old son as well! HE just took a shower! Hot damn. Happy New Year!

In addition to hygienic prowess, he also managed to work the term “crap-ton” into conversation twice in twenty seconds. You gotta respect that.

Shower? Check!

“Crap-ton” usage? Check!

Type A Together People out there, I love you.  But I am aware of the fact that you may be picturing us in a Judgy show about New You-ness, with you as Simon Cowell and me as me.  I know that you buzzed me or dinged me or gonged me back in the introductory slipper section.

Hang on for just a second there, Simonizer.  In my defense, let me tell you about how things transpire when I follow a more conventional checklist in an effort to adopt new and glorious habits just because the calendar isn’t working anymore.

On New Year’s Day, I opened the napkin-light bulb-water bottle cabinet.  Predictably, I was assaulted by a lot of water bottles, and a couple of the other things.  So I “de-cluttered” it.  That just means that I took everything out of there and spread it all over the counters  organized it into matching containers labeled “Donate,” “Sell,” and “Trash.” Then I went to find a rag under the sink, where I keep 2 or 3 on a regular basis. I am proud of the fact that I do not keep 17.

Guess what I found under the kitchen sink?

If you guessed “A crap-ton of water?” you are correct!

Now it was time to de-clutter THAT cabinet.  Time to throw away another crap-ton of those white sponges that claim to erase anything, but do not erase pencil marks made by second-graders–but that is another arena.

The drain was leaking. It was nasty.

Backstory:  our kitchen faucet (not the aforementioned drain, mind you) has been doing some low level dripping for a couple of months.  Here was the perfect opportunity to fix it! Wait! I know! Since we have to do intensive sink intervention, we might as well do a teeny-tiny upgrade and buy a new faucet!

Yaay! Crap-ton of crap everywhere and we are off to the big orange store where people get things DONE! But NOT a new faucet, because in order to do that, one has to lift that sink out of its sink hole.  Our sink, however, was apparently sealed into place with the same sealant used to seal stuff on the space shuttle or the Millenium Falcon, and a crap-ton of it.

The point is, Simon, that I transformed a de-clutter checklist into a full day of plumbing.  I don’t know a lot about plumbing, but the one tenet of plumbing is that when you work on plumbing, you cuss.  Like, a crap-ton. I ended up manning the screwdrivers under the sink a lot, too, on account of the fact that I am smallish and can fit under there.  And you KNOW there wasn’t just one trip to the store.  No New Year, New Faucet.  Oh, the humanity.

Slippers? Check!

 

Extreme Couponing as Second Career December 27, 2014

Filed under: humor — peachyteachy @ 5:53 pm
Tags: , ,

‘Tis the season when the teachers begin to speculate about alternate  professions.

I’ve decided to become a Specialized Extreme Couponer ®!  Deodorant only.  I’ve noticed, in the tens of minutes that I have devoted to researching the topic, that the coupon people always have lots of feminine products (like, enough for women of biblical lifespans who never go through menopause). Therefore, I will not be targeting that area.

However, I am hopeful that I will have big success in selling some clinical strength anti-perspirant on the deodorant black market. It’s got to be at least as lucrative as this blogging gig!

Another possible avenue I am considering is the ripe market of Sierra Leone! But not for deodorant. That would be insulting at best.  I think we need to be looking at macaroni and cheese couponing here.  I have a feeling that the generic mac and cheeses are few and far between here, and that Kraft is sitting on a big fat monopoly.  Let’s make a difference, people.

 

Surviving a Fire Safety Assembly December 6, 2014

Recently, our school hosted a Fire Safety Assembly.  The second and third graders—all 200+ of them—filed in, sat down, and behaved themselves while the blockbuster DVD, Hector the Smoke Detector, was projected in all its splendor.  A few  years ago, the fire department had abandoned the live mascot in costume, presumably due to the fact that the costume had become increasingly grimy and flaccid. I guess they didn’t want to give kids the impression that smoke detectors were constructed of giant flour tortillas.

The gentleman who presented this year was energetic.  Fervently so, really.  I knew that something was awry, though, when he called on a student to demonstrate how to “Stop, drop, and roll,” THEN proceeded to bring each of the nine classes to the front of the auditorium, where the kids lined up, enchilada style, on the floor in glaring violation of the gospel of personal space that we preach day in and day out.  It is a miracle that no one dislocated a clavicle.

This was, however, a mere preview of the ultimate evidence of divine intervention witnessed that day. For when the youngsters had returned to the upholstered seats, bouncy and kicky as all hell, Reverend Firefighter called upon each and every child to pray to be rescued if they were ever trapped in a fire!

The final act involved having every student drop to the ground as if crawling below the smoke, then complete the enormous square of auditorium aisles on  hands and knees.  My students were now not only prepared to respond to a fire emergency, but to a European soccer riot as well!

Did I mention that I had a new student that day? He channeled James Brown in the aisle of the auditorium.

Safety first!

 

 

Image: https://c1.staticflickr.com/1/29/97364215_6f82a4b257_z.jpg?

 

 

 
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