Tag! You’re It! September 29, 2012

I have found, when I am reading blogs, that I can be swayed by a mere random tag.  I have followed blogs based on tags alone. I am not really interested in the tags that will drive traffic (why is the blogosphere so reflective of car culture?); I like weirdness when it comes to tags.  Why, I asked myself earlier this week, has it never occurred to me to tag my work as “bullshit,” as blogsister Ambling and Rambling did? It’s because I like randomness, but I don’t think of tagging anything as “randomness” either. TheFurFiles remembers, all the time.

“Satan’s microwave” is one of my favorite tags, from my post about making Caprese Salad .  Tags referring to cured meats? Magic. 

Are there ethical questions surrounding tagging? How random is too random? Could I legitimately tag a  post as “Area 51” and go on to write about my classroom? Wait. Bad example.

“Quilting” with no quilt?

“Ultimate Cheesy Goodness” with no cheese?

“Trouble in the Middle East” with a Prince clip?  It turns out that Prince clips have all been hijacked, so no worries there! Sinead shall be called into service.

I think that I need a tagging tutorial.  Also one about tag sales, please.

 

 

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Peachy And The Purple Pen September 27, 2012

 

There are times when one needs a Valium, a trip to Fiji, a pitcher of margaritas.  Or an independently wealthy benefactor to finance all three.  In lieu of these, sometimes, one receives, delivered by a student from another classroom, an envelope containing a purple pen.

There are times when this is enough.

Despite the presence of soul-sucking dementors in my place of employment, I am also surrounded by magical, purple pen-weilding defenders of my sanity.  For these fellow warriors, I am so grateful.

I shall also gratefully accept any independently wealthy benefactor who seeks a worthy cause. . .

I Feel Ugly, But I Forget Why September 25, 2012

 

Today, a student drew a likeness of me standing by a likeness of her.  She was saying, in a cartoon bubble, “Me you ugly.” I think that was her way of writing a little micro-screenplay where she was writing her part, as in, “Me: You ugly.” I did have a cute little flipped-up-at-the-end hairdo, and my skin was shaded in, while hers was not.  This does not reflect the physical reality of our skin tones, which makes it that much more intriguing and avant garde, I guess. I am what is known in polite circles as Super Caucasian.  In less formal terms, I have been described as a “White Cracker.” In her view, I must inhabit the dark side, though.  This is due to the fact that I took issue with her telling another student to “Shut the f— up.” I’m outrageous like that. Even more outrageous, I asked her to write something in paragraph form.  My students view this as tantamount to waterboarding, especially when I slip in the requirement of using periods.  So she was pissed, as well she should have been.

You are going to be extra mad at me when I tell you that I stood between a kid and his destiny today.  It’s true. And I am deeply sorry.  I have a student who gives me resentful looks when I ask him to follow ANY direction within thirty minutes of uttering the direction.  He looks as if he is planning his return to school with semi-automatic weapons, because I have the unmitigated gall to suggest that he should not be using his scissors to create a mini-snowdrift of paper cuttings underneath his desk.  But that is not the destiny to which I refer.  After the scissor confiscation, I looked over toward where his homicidal looks should have been leveled in my direction, and I noticed that he was no longer inhabiting an above-desk profile.  “WTF?” think I to myself.  At this point, I noticed that he was underneath his desk–communing with the paper cuttings, apparently.  In predictable teacher fashion, I merely shot HIM a look, and said, with gusto, “No!” Well, apparently, he was “repairing” his desk.  And when I say “repair,” I mean “disassemble.” A few minutes later, he stole the show when his desk essentially collapsed.  No stranger to desks being kicked, thrown, and vandalized, I held out my hand to receive the two bolts that had miraculously loosened themselves.  WHO FIXED THE DESK?  Come on! You know it was Peachy!

There are precious few “vocational” paths these days, and even fewer “Become A Skilled Tradesman But Only Do Your Trade When You Feel Like It” paths available. My student is unlikely to succeed at taking shit apart as a career path, not so much because we don’t need folks to TAKE shit apart, but because their bosses will expect them to take shit apart WHEN THEY SAY SO, not when they are good and ready.  There’s the rub.

Last thing: scholars, am I off-base with this next item? When I studied Multiple Learning Styles, I did not see the categories, “Lazy,” “Obnoxious,” or “Making Fart Noises.” Research this, will you? Thanks.

 

Not Funny, But Lovely September 24, 2012

All I want to do today is to share a beautiful post written by Lynne Knowlton–the one with the treehouse. Dear Cancer, I HATE you and I THANK you is a must-read if you love real. It is a must-read if you have been impacted by cancer. It is a must-read if you are feeling numb.

I lost my dad three years ago this summer.  Cancer brought him to a hospice residence that was the most beautiful place he had ever lived. He thrived there, far longer than he “should” have, because he was so loved and appreciated there.  For these things I am grateful.  But my son still cries at bedtime, wishing that he could have just a little more time with his grandparents.

 

Celebrity Dream Team Makes Supporting Cuteness Priority September 23, 2012

IBS?

Crayola Crayon Color: Purple Brown?

What do Erik Estrada, Ani Difranco, Julio Iglesias and Bruce Springsteen have in common?

Did you guess that they have each named a Crayola crayon color?

Do they all suffer from Irritable Bowel Syndrome?

Have they each shared a deep and abiding relationship with Patty Scialfa?

Surprisingly, none of these are true. They are all breeders of miniature horses! Look it up! Seems that nobody can resist those adorably small and unrideable equines.

Julio, down by the schoolyard

You didn’t look it up, right? Cool.

Happy Birthday, all y’all.

Gratitude In Your Face–You Are Not In Any of These Photos (hopefully) September 21, 2012

source: buzzfeed.com

I’m sorry.  No, really, I am sorry, but I could not escape the compelling magnetic field surrounding these photos. I shall try not to insult photographers by not categorizing this as “photography.”  Please click below to see the Gallery o’ Glamour.

 

http://www.buzzfeed.com/whitneyjefferson/12-ways-to-get-the-best-glamour-shot

 

Looking At the World Through Rose-Colored Glasses. I Mean, Purple! How Did You Do That? September 18, 2012

I have a lovely colleague who has some lovely eyeglasses.  In fact, she has a couple of different pairs that she wears on a regular basis.  One of them is pink. One of them is purple. They are not identical. Not even close.

She does not teach pre-school.

She was asked by a student, “How do your glasses change color?” This is cute when you have a three-year-old.  It’s a bit scary when you multiply that by three.

My colleague did not reply by asking the student “How did your pants change color between yesterday and today?”  By virtue of this fact, I feel that she should be receiving some sort of merit pay; that is,  if any teacher in the civilized world actually supports the idea of merit pay.  Combat pay, yes. Merit pay? No, thank you.

Fast forward to snack time.  Here come FREE, beautiful, fresh fruits and veggies to be distributed “at our discretion” at some point in the day when we are down for hand sanitizer-squirting, napkin-giving, and manner-teaching (“If you don’t like it, we say ‘No, thank you,’ not ‘Ewww, that’s nasty!’).  Example: baby carrots.

Heard in another colleague’s classroom, before the snacks even hit the slab: “Where the ranch?” Translation: “I will have a side of ranch dressing.”

Teacher response: “I don’t know, Ungratefulique, where IS the ranch?”

Student: “Where the RANCH?”

Teacher pulls down the U.S. map, and suggests, “Ungratefulique, I believe that many of the ranches in the US are in other parts of the country, such as Texas, and other states in the Southwest region, as we studied last week, with our map keys.”

Student, rolling eyes: “No, the ranch DRESSING!”

Teacher: “OH! That’s in Hidden Valley, sweetheart.” This is the point at which teacher is utilizing deep breathing techniques purported to prevent hyperventilation without the smoking of a cigarette.

We may need some professional advice here from waitress-laureate– http://javaj240.wordpress.com/

Heard in my classroom: “Wow, I see why they call them baby carrots. They are really small.”

Yes. Yes they are. They are some small carrots. We are making a wonderful learning connection between your prior knowledge about babies as the smaller versions of grown up things, and baby carrots as smaller versions of bigger carrots. Let’s write a five- paragraph essay and expand upon this, relating it to other important babies and big things.  And, let’s use capitals to start your sentences. At least the first sentence. Please?

Or you could just pretend that they are your bicuspids and that you are a vampire.