How are you today? I'm superfantastic.

XOXO

Dear New Kids on the Block,

Your new song is awful.  Just really, exceptionally atrocious.  Which is fine.  Quality of musical selection was never your strong point.  I guess I wasn't expecting it to be quite as bad as it is, but overall I can't say I'm too surprised.  At least it's not, like, comically bad (*cough* Step by Step *cough*).

The problem that I do have is with some of your lyrics.  A bad song I could overlook, but glorification of improper verb conjugation I cannot forgive.  "You wasn't lookin' for a man", New Kids?  "As long as we was together"?  What kind of example are you setting FOR THE CHILDREN? 

Allow me to point out that "was" and "were" involve the very same number of syllables.  So it wasn't a matter of making the word fit.  This is just poor grammar for poor grammar's sake.  A senseless act of language butchery is what it is and I won't stand for it.

I mean, not that I can actually do anything about it, short of changing the station when it comes on and not buying the tape downloading it from iTunes.  But I will strongly consider throwing out my giant Joey button, antique circa 1990. 

See that it doesn't happen again, Kids.

No longer a screaming 12 year-old fan,

Lori

P.S. Joey is still the dreamiest.  Totally.

Grammar Geek Wednesday: I Do Not Think It Means What You Think It Means Edition

I've heard and seen some bad stuff since starting my teaching program.  And I do not mean from the 11th graders I spend my mornings with.  Not because it would be too easy to make fun of the grammar of high schoolers who mostly failed English last year.  No, because it's what I've seen from the adults who are running my program that makes me even crazier.

(Although, honestly, the adults make me crazier in general.  I'm always in a good mood when I leave my practice teaching with the 11th graders at noon.  I am generally in a homicidal rage when I leave my teaching course with the adults at 3:30.  Two and a half hours of group work with people who not only cannot draw a conclusion independently but fail to even read directions makes something in my head go *pop*.)

Anyway, some things I've seen and heard this week from folks running my teaching program:

- Where your nametags.

- I hope everyone found today to be resourceful.

- Thanks for your timeliness this week.

So, the first one is pretty simple.  She meant "wear".  Although "Where your nametags?" would be similarly disconcerting.

#2: Yes, that day was full of resources, but that is not what resourceful means.  In case anyone here is similarly confused, resourceful is an adjective for someone who can find information, tools, and creative ways of solving problems.

And in the case of our third sentence, the word they actually wanted was not timeliness but punctuality.  They appreciated us showing up on time, not at an opportune time.

And finally, this doesn't come from my program, but I did read something this week lamenting the death of the semicolon.  I can't say I'm overly torn up about it.  Back in the day, the semicolon started out as a glorified comma, eventually becoming a way to stick two entire sentences together.  I've never fully understood the point.  This could be because my sentences are so long to begin with that combining two of them seems downright irresponsible.  Although it is a bit sad to see something with such a long and distinguished linguistic history relegated to being primarily used as the eyes in a sideways winky face.

As always, I welcome your own contributions to the grammar pet peeve bank that is this blog.  Ready, set, geek!

Everything she says really IS fascinating.

Most people, if you suggested that they pose for a picture with a Kung-Fu Panda statue would give you a ha, ha good one and keep walking.  Particularly if you suggested that they imitate the pose of the panda.

What I love about Melissa is that her response is more like HA, HA YES! HERE IS MY CAMERA WHICH I HAVE IN MY PURSE FOR JUST SUCH AN OCCASION.

This was after dinner and Get Smart with some friends.  (In case you were wondering, I believe Get Smart got a full eight thumbs up.)  Then Melissa and I went to her apartment where she explained to me her plan for the perfect nap: buy a massage table so she can nap face-down without turning her head to the side.  That, folks, is a serious commitment to napping.  Something about her explaining this plan to me gave me the giggles and I laughed until I was in tears.  It was the best (oh, ok only) workout my abs have had in quite some time.

It's good to be in the same city again.  You can count on me to continue bringing you all of the hijinks as they occur.  And they will.  Oh, how they will.

There haven't been any unicorns. Yet.

I'm a hippo.  I was a giraffe earlier this week, but have since become a hippo instead.

Because my advisor in my teaching program has assigned us group membership via brightly colored animal heads placed in our attendance folders.  Yes, of course we have attendance folders.  They too are brightly colored.  We attach them to the chalkboard rail using brightly colored clothes pins.  We wrote our names on school bus stickers to put on the outside.

We work in groups.  We make posters using Mr. Sketch scented markers (Is it just me or does Mr. Sketch sound like someone who should not be permitted within 500 feet of a school?) to show each other what we have talked about in our groups.  Today we read a case study that made us angry, so we all stood up together and said RAAAAAAHHH!

We finished the first part of our training today, so we all went out in the hall and made a line, all of us standing on the first tile block next to the lockers.  Then we put up our hands like we were pushing a wall, jumped forward and shouted WE DID IT!

This morning the 11th Graders I am student teaching with read and discussed Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God (the 11th graders seemed unconcerned) and then I went to my training in the afternoon, where we gave the other animal groups standing o's by standing up, making O's with our arms over our heads, and saying OOOOOOOOHHH!

To be fair, some other people in my training class seem really into this stuff.  And yes, we're getting firsthand experience with some things some people may want to use with their students.

It's just, I'd rather we acted like we were all adults.  I have no doubt whatsoever that my advisor is an excellent teacher of elementary special ed.  But with grown ups, there wouldn't seem to be a need for all of the bells and whistles and Sesame Street stickers.  There shouldn't be a need of gimmicks or techniques to keep us engaged in the lesson.  The desire to be good teachers and the thousands of dollars we're paying for a program to that end ought to take care of that.

So here's my idea: reading, lecture, note-taking, discussion.  I picked up the idea somewhere, oh I don't know, maybe college, that this is how you educate adults.  Particularly when there is a lot of material to cover in a short amount of time, as is the case for us.

Then again, I am cranky and no fun and wasn't even into WE DID IT! kind of stuff when I was an actual kid.  So maybe it's just me. 

But let me plainly state here that I absolutely will not take part in the Elmer's school gluing of macaroni to any surface whatsoever.  This is where I draw the line.  With a scented marker.

I'll Take Potpurri for $1000, Alex

So.  Some stuff has happened.  Just not anything that wanted to turn into a post.  Now that it's been a week, allow me to just smash all of the things together with only the faintest hint of a transition between them and call it a post.

My drive down here last week was pleasantly uneventful.  My mom's friends, sort of my other mothers, Jean and Mary rode down with me so they could visit my mom and see the babies.  We made it to Oklahoma on Tuesday night, where we encountered our camo-clad hotel clerk friend who, seeing the Wisconsin plates, asked if any of us were from Madison.  I said I was and he told me that my money was no good there (Sweet!) because he can't stand all of those God-and-country-hating hippies from Madison.  Sure.  Yes.  That's me.  He accepted Mary's Footville, Wisconsin-based money, we spent the night, and rolled into San Antonio late Wednesday afternoon.

Then on Saturday, I took the Texas Examination of Educator Standards (TExES) (seriously).  I wasn't overly concerned going in since standardized tests are sort of a special gift of mine.  On the other hand, it was pretty important that I pass it since not only would school districts not even interview me until I passed, but also I did not want to pay another $117 to retake it. 

I used only an hour and a half of the FIVE HOURS allotted to finish the test and walked out with absolutely no idea as to whether I had passed.  I've never been one of those people to say "oh, I don't know if I passed" just to get people to say "of course you did, you smartypants, you."  Because, really.  False humility: what is the point?  This test though, involved quite a few questions that were basically judgement calls on the best way to handle a classroom situation.  I knew what I would do, but not whether that was considered the right answer.  Turns out, enough of them were.  I got my scores today and out of a possible 300, I scored whatever was enough to pass and that's all that matters.  Whew.

Hey!  Look!  We have ads!  Over there to the right, below all of that other stuff.  Alan put them up for me today, which, folks, is why we stay friends with ex-boyfriends.  To make them keep doing stuff for us.  I don't think I'm going to make my fortune or anything but it would be nice if at some point, this blog would begin to actually pay for itself.

And finally, a lot of people over the years have seemed to find the depth of my love for Tim Russert a bit odd.  But if you saw the tribute on Sunday, you saw his friends confirm all of my impressions that had so endeared him to me.  That even more than smart, he was endlessly curious.  That he saw his role in large part as that of educator.  That he felt strongly that politicians should be held accountable for what they did and said, particularly when those two things did not align.  And that he was good friend, husband, father, son, and above all, an honest-to-God decent human being.  Our country is the poorer for his loss.

One more for the road

I keep wondering which will happen first: I'll think of something to post or the Charter person will come and disconnect my cable and internet.  So far neither. 

But I'm not likely to be online again until Wednesday night, when I will hopefully have no interesting tire and/or car malfunction problems to report to you.  Regarding my car anyway.  Jake (driving up here with his brother in his truck, loading my stuff into a trailer, and pulling it back to Texas) has already had engine trouble in Kansas last night, which was fixed miraculously quickly, and he should be here in three hours or so.

In the meantime, since I have thought of nothing more interesting to tell you, allow me to share a couple of packing lessons learned. 

There is no good way to pack hangers.  On the way up, I threw all of my clothes in a big pile in the back seat, still on hangers.  This time, since I had gotten rid of so much stuff, I had room to pack the clothes instead.  Leaving me with one million hangers to somehow pack.  My solution involving my laundry basket and a lot of packing tape across the top is probably far more Lucy Ricardo than it is MacGuyver.  I suppose I'll find out in a couple of days.

Secondly, if you think you have an extra box lid, probably look around to make sure there aren't any lidless boxes sitting around.  I'm not saying it's impossible that you somehow lost the box that went to that lid, just that if you discover that you did in fact need that lid after you've already put it in the recycling and then go to retrieve it, you may wind up scaring the crap out of yourself and the squirrel who was rooting around in the recycling bin.

I better quit playing chicken now with the Charter guy and publish.  I'm sure I'll be Twittering from the road.  Stay tuned...

Yeah, yeah, it's a cheater photo post

All those who want to complain are welcome to come over here and pack my every worldly possession.  No takers?  Alright then.  Photos.

Just in case it wasn't clear, I think we all see who is in charge around my family these days.  Although he may not rule uncontested for long.

There's a new baby in town and she does NOT appreciate your boy hands on her pink throne of power.  Crawl away, giant baby, crawl away.

God help us all if they ever figure out how to team up.  It's only a matter of time, isn't it?

You heard it here first. No, really.

My first job in high school was selling shoes at Finish Line.  I had a boss there who was hilarious.  He told me a story once about how he was supposed to be getting ready to go somewhere with his wife but instead was busy discovering that some old cheese he found in the refrigerator would bounce.  His wife found him bouncing the ball of cheese in the kitchen and said, "David, stop playing with that cheese and shower."  And he said, "I bet no one has ever said that sentence before."

Ever since then, I've kind of listened for sentences that might be being uttered for the first time ever.  Such as one time when Amy and I were out walking the dogs and she went to warn me about some food on the sidewalk that I should keep the dog away from.  She phrased it, "Careful, Pop Tart!"  I have to believe that there aren't too many people going around issuing Pop Tart warnings.

Then there was the time that Angela and I were walking along near the Lincoln Memorial and some ducks took off from the sidewalk just in front of us, barely clearing our heads on their way over.  Angela said, "That duck tried to kick me in the face."  (Angela is deeply suspicious of birds in general.)  I am not sure that anyone has ever laughed harder on the grounds of the Lincoln Memorial than I did about this duck face kicking remark.  I mean, imagine how it would feel to be kicked in the face by a webbed duck foot.  That's funny stuff, right?

It's in the spirit of these three instances that I have tried to come up with some brand new sentences that I believe might have never before been said:

I like a man in sweatpants and a comb-over.

The Arizona Cardinals are the best team in football.

I think mosquitoes are kind of cute.

No thanks, I don't like bacon. (I get that some of you don't eat it for religious and ideological reasons, but to not like it?  I think not.)

Which of these outfits best highlights my muffin top?

If you're looking for a light summer beach read, I recommend Heart of Darkness.

I wish we had spent more money on the wedding.

Hell no, I don't want to play Plinko.

I was really hoping you would ask me to help you move.

Appearing topless in Girls Gone Wild was a really sound decision on my part.

I like Carrot Top, both for his subtle humor and undeniable sex appeal.

Why can't you be more like that Amy Winehouse?

What have you got for us, Internet?  Something you actually heard or whatever you can come up with.