I love Twisty Faster. Her writing is educational, and at the same time, funny enough to make me giggle out loud almost daily.
Today she posted a great link, where - according to Twisty - "if one is a fart in human shape," they may wish to purchase fake testicles for dangling off the lower back end of their truck.
Yes. She said, "If one is a fart in human shape." We are in the presence of greatness.
I was a substitute teacher today...in the Junior High...in the Special Ed room. It was going to be an easy day. All I needed to do was follow students from room to room throughout the day, help them out if they needed, and possibly keep them in line when they got squirrelly. But the plan went awry, my friends, when it came to be known that 4 of the six regular teachers were at a conference, meaning that in most cases we were two subs with a room full of tricky, conniving and hormonally charged youth. God help me.
Finally, in 8th hour (the last hour of the day for those who don't know), I got to be in a room with a regular teacher instead of a sub. The same students, that had just four minutes ago tried to out-yell one another while we struggled to get them to do their science projects, were completely docile, sitting nicely in their desks, paying attention, and doing what they were told. It was as if I had stepped into the Twilight Zone.
I can still remember the moment when I realized that there was only one wonderful sound (the teacher's voice) in my ears, instead of a clamor of teenage shrieks and hollers. I actually felt my scalp relax.
It has always irked me (in a purely theoretical and perhaps elitist way) how we demand so much from our teachers and yet pay them so little. Today I came away with concrete experience, and I'm very far beyond "irked". I think it's absolutely criminal that these people don't get over 60k a year - STARTING - because this job is way harder than the 30k-a-year salary that most teachers get (lower for starting wages, esp. in rural areas like this.) I was paid $97 (gross) for my work today, and I am feeling very used. GAWD. This was worse than my stint in the elementary a few weeks back, when I subbed for the gym teacher.
Maybe with experience and training, this gets easier. Probably it does. But I still think we're screwing our teachers by underpaying them. It's not fair to them, or to our kids.
End rant.
I remember this theme song, but I can't remember what the show was about...
And I LOVE this Sesame Street clip (it WAS Sesame Street, right?) - but the one I remember was a little different. This one has a Yellow Submarine and a Beatle head in it...does anyone know if this is the original or a remix?
Mondays Suck. Here's something that will make you laugh and feel better.
(Courtesy of Bitch PhD.)
My mom is known for mixing up common sayings. One of her most famous mix-ups is, "You can't make a dead horse drink."
Today we were talking about how somebody had been a tad dishonest with her, and she said, "Wow, he really played me for a loop!"
I love you, mom.
By the way, why aren't you lame-os doing my Johari Window?
And some of you have not placed your pin in the map that is located on my sidebar yet. C'mon, what do you think I have this blog for, my own entertainment? Jeez.
Man I've been busy this week. Thanks to Old Man Winter for dumping wet, heavy snow on us in the night, because we finally got a snow day! I'm not looking forward to shovelling, but it's better than spending time in my "office" (actually a room full of servers and other junk with my little desk pushed in a corner and there is no phone and I still have to use my personal computer because mine has not been ordered yet, and I can't even print, and have intermittent email access...are you sensing a theme here?). I've learned that having a part-time salaried job is very sucky, especially in the non-profit realm, because it means there is a shortage of resources anyway and I'm having to work until the job is done so I'm not staying within 20 hours a week. I've spent hours and hours begging, scrounging, and even stealing things I need to do my friggin' job. Sigh. End of rant.
This day off is so wonderful.
To kill time, I have created a "Johari Window", and I can't really explain what it is (cuz I'm not really sure), so please go to the link and follow the instructions.
I just walked into the living room and saw this:
Explanation: Isaac's dollar got stuck in the pig's head. He's trying to get it out. Am I raising a serial killer?
My dad is a Republican. I'm working on him, though. I really think he's an un-enlightened Democrat...all he needs is some gentle prodding from me and he'll figure it out.
So we were talking about politics this weekend, and usually our political discussions devolve into a volley of low blows and sarcastic exaggerations within minutes of having been started. Here is how the conversation ended...
Me: Republicans are just not as close to nirvana as Democrats are.
Dad: One thing is for sure, you are really getting on MY nirvana!
In other news, I had a nice day yesterday. I finally mopped the kitchen floor - something that I've been wanting to do for a few weeks now. You have to understand that this is a monumental task for me. It requires moving furniture, pulling up rugs, and mopping at least twice with two buckets of clean soapy water. This is not only due to the fact that I have an irrational germ phobia, but also because this floor has a coating of grease on it from years of not being mopped. I'm working down to the real linoleum. And the fact that I felt this was a blog-worthy topic should be a testament to how important mopping is to me, and also how severe my OCD is!
To wrap this post up, here are some funny Isaac-isms for your daily comic relief:
Instead of flushing the toilet, Isaac "reloads the toilet."
Yesterday Isaac pointed out the playground bully and "his assistants" when we saw them at school.
Thursday at school, Isaac hit one of his friends. His excuse? "My brain made me do it!"
Isaac is building an Egyptian sarcophagus with his grandma on the weekends. It's about 2 feet long and quite elaborate. He has been thinking about what to put inside...one day as he was leaving grandma's house, he looked up excitedly and said, "How about the cat? We could mummify the cat! It would fit just right!"
I love this age.
Here is a list of things that gross me out.
1. Public restrooms, especially when people forget to flush. Wow, people, how can you forget to do that? Especially when there is a great turd lying in the bowl? I avoid public restrooms whenever possible. Isaac has inherited this habit, and refuses to poop anywhere but in our own home bathroom. He's a very normal child.
2. Eggs, and people who eat them. Don't get me wrong - I understand that eggs are an essential ingredient to delicacies like cake, cookies and other confections. What grosses me out is when people crack an egg and fry/scramble/poach it and then eat it just like that. The smell alone is enough to make me gag.
3. Meat is very gross. Especially meat that is still attached to a bone. It's a piece of dead animal people! Hamburger is ground up muscle, fat and connective tissue! Bleck!
4. Why do people use their tongues to moisten the adhesive on envelopes or stamps? Convenience? Chances are I will have to touch that with my finger while I am opening it. I don't want your slobber all over my finger! Use a sponge, a wet napkin, anything but your tongue.
5. Speaking of slobber - what is with those people who allow their dogs to lick their faces? Would you allow me to come up and lick your face in greeting? Gross! I had a friend whose dog used to eat cow pies and then my friend would allow this dog to lick her face. Oh, the horror.
I've posted previously about my dad and sister's involvement in the community theater. They performed this weekend. The play was "Moon Over Buffalo" - a PG-13 comedy that was full of swear words and physical comedy. If you would have told me ten years ago that MY DAD would say "Dammit" and "Shit" in a public setting, and walk around on a stage in his boxer shorts (the man does not even wear shorts in the summer - he's that much of a prude!), and KISS a woman who was NOT his WIFE...well I probably would have fainted. But he was really good, and I'm not just saying that because he's my dad! I admit that I am biased, but the audience agreed that he was great!
My grandpa is usually in bed by 4:00 p.m., but he managed to stay up until 10:00 that night! I happened to glance over at my grandparents when my dad was prancing around in his boxers, and I just wish I could have taken a picture. The look on my grandpa's face was hilarious - a mixture of laughter and amazement!
I couldn't take pictures during the performance of course, but I managed to get a few bad shots of the curtain call. My sister Page is so beautiful, and she was very good in this play. I'm jealous...both of her good looks/acting talent and the fun she must have had with our dad!
I really want to audition for the summer play but I feel very over-extended already. If only there were more hours in the day!
Let's face it, we all work hard. And after a hard day's work, all you really want to do is go home, scarf down some carbs, watch American Idol and then pass out. Spending quality time with our spouses just isn't something that happens on a weekday.
That's where the DMV comes in. Today I picked Masud up from work and we drove to the Department of Motor Vehicles so that we could finally get our new WI drivers licenses. We could have done this in Portage (where Masud works), but we also needed to register our Honda, and they don't do titles in the Portage office.
That's okay, we got to have a nice lunch at Ella's Deli. (I had an avocado-cream cheese-alfalfa sprout sandwich...mmmm...and a hot fudge sundae on toasted pound cake....mmmm...)
Then we drove over to the DMV, fully expecting to get in, get out, and get back in time to pick up Isaac. WRONG. There were over 100 people in line ahead of us. Sigh.
This is the miracle of the DMV. With all of that waiting time on our hands, we were able to have some serious spousal quality time! We discussed finances, our future, Isaac's education, our summer vacation plans, and still had time left over to tell funny stories and make each other laugh! (Although I did have to call my mom to pick Isaac up from school because we were still in line at 2:15.) By the time we went to get our new DL pictures taken, we were laughing so hard that the picture taker guy had to get stern with us.
"I'm going to have to ask you to stop fooling around, there is a line, you know!"
Thanks to the DMV, we'll make it to our 9th anniversary! That's not saying much, I guess, since it's only 17 days away...
Tanya is the best, and here are ten reasons why.
1) She is a vegetarian.
2) She is dedicating her life to international development and activism.
3) She is very good at explaining complex concepts using excellent examples that are very relevant. (She'd make a great teacher!)
4) She has a mean chandrabindu. (Say it dude! "Chand-e Panch Kanthal Khabo" I will eat five jackfruits on the roof!)
5) She has the Bengali gift for hospitality. Example - when we were in India, we organized an impromptu party in our hotel lounge. Not only did she convince the entire wait staff to keep the lounge open for HOURS past closing time, she also bought like 15 huge bottles of beer to get things rolling. AND she somehow got several people to sing, and an elderly man to shake his booty. It was one of the most fun parties I've ever attended!
6) She is SO GOOD at impersonating people. The accuracy makes it hilarious without being mean!
7) She is obsessed with the Lord of the Rings, and she's not ashamed to say it!
8) I think I caught feminism from her. At the very least, being around her fanned the flames of my patriarchy-blaming.
9) She is extremely humble about her radness, which makes it all the more rad.
10) The girl can SING! AND play the guitar.
And, most importantly (I couldn't keep it at ten!)...
11) She is a very sincere friend - one that I am very lucky to have in my life!
*Sniffle
Here's to you, girl. Now stop procrastinating and get some work done!
I just added a nifty little "guest map" on the sidebar. Take a minute to stick your pin in it!
Is this real? Because, if it is true, why haven't I heard this on the news? And if it isn't true, it's a very cruel rumor.
(Yes, I realize that the above title is not appropriate for someone who is the substance abuse prevention coordinator, but get over it!)
So today I had to go to the doctor and show him my wrist wounds. When he walked into the room, he kindof glanced sideways at me and snickered. Odd, I thought. I had been a little worried ever since the surgery because I was not completely knocked out - just under sedation - and I knew I had been talking through the entire procedure, but I can't remember any of it for the life of me! So his sideways glance unnerved me a little!
Then he said, "Well, Katie, I gotta say, that was one of the most entertaining surgeries I've done in a long time!" Oh, man, I must have revealed some secrets or something.
I tentatively asked, "Really? I don't remember any of it! What did we talk about?"
His one word answer made my stomach drop out of my gut. "Politics."
Now, let me just paint a picture for you. This doctor is a manly man. His office walls are covered with dead animals and fish. He went to Africa on a hunting safari. He brought back a stuffed wild boar. Not that I'm one to assume things, but I think I am pretty safe in saying that he's a gun-toter. He's also probably a member of the NRA. And isn't it a pre-requisite of NRA membership that you be a registered Republican?
So I asked him to tell me about our conversation. He was really cracking up! He said that after he took out the tumor on my arm, he was explaining to me that it was a "fatty cyst", nothing to worry about. "In fact," he said, "these are very common. Most Democrats have them in their brains."
To which I replied, oh so smartly, "Well, that's okay. At least Democrats HAVE brains!"
I do remember laughing really hard on the table, and looking around at the doctor and the anesthesiologist as they cracked up. I'm glad they have a sense of humor!
I thank God above that he did not decide to "accidentally" cut my hand off!
since i'm one-handed, there will be no capitalization for a while. my surgery went well - i was actually awake the whole time, but i dont remember much. the worst part was the iv! it's a little sore now, but definitely worth the attention i'm getting from my fam.
in lieu of a post, here are some digital doodles...
I'm likin' the comment action, people! I should have invasive medical procedures done more often!
This was a big week, work-wise. I had a long and detailed meeting with my supervisor (which went well), managed to hire someone who will be working under me (how do you say that without sounding like a power trippin' elitist?), personally called the candidates that were not chosen for the job and told them "best of luck" (it was hard), and today I headed up my first big meeting. All in all I think I did pretty good! I really like this job, now that I'm getting the hang of things.
Tomorrow I have to write a mini report (due Friday) for a grant that I just found out about on Monday. That's a little hairy but I've got help so it should be okay.
Tonight Isaac and I made cupcakes in celebration of my success at work. Any excuse for cupcakes is fine with me. He is learning stuff like how to measure 1 1/2 cups of water, how to crack eggs without getting the shell in, and why we have to preheat the oven before we put the cake in. He's also learning that true joy is a warm cupcake with lots of frosting melting down the side. I hope he got his father's metabolism, cuz man I'm setting him up for obesity.
I may need to post photoblogs for the next week or so, because I'm not supposed to type for a week. Like that will happen! Maybe I can get creative.
Thanks to everyone for all of your good vibes! I'll be fine, I'm sure. I've got a nice full bottle of narcotics.
If you know my husband at all, you probably know that he is very blunt. He will call a spade a spade. He will also call a fat spade a fat spade. He has no concern for certain cultural expectations, especially in the US, that make comments on another person's body shape, size or other attributes taboo. For the first four years of our marriage, I would get really offended when he would comment on the largeness of my belly roll. I tried very hard to explain to him that it "hurt my feelings" (a concept that does not translate well) when he said that. In his point of view, he was telling the truth, so why should he sugar coat it? In my opinion, why does it need to be brought up at all?
I finally got some enlightenment on this issue while in Bangladesh. My nieces were commenting on my "fatty" nature, and I said I felt sad when they called me fatty. They asked why it made me sad. I said, "Well, wouldn't you feel sad if someone said you were ugly?" and they said, "Yes, but calling you fat has nothing to do with how pretty or ugly you are." We then had a conversation about how a person is always pretty or ugly no matter how skinny or fat they get. They even said that fat people are more attractive, nice and soft and round. Ahhh, this is a concept I could latch on to!
Anyways, back to the original point of my post...
Masud has always called me "deformed". He has several points.
1) When I was young, I had a tumor the size of a golf ball on my index finger. It was gross. I had it removed in a painful surgery involving replacing missing bone in my finger with bone marrow from my pelvis when I was eleven. Yowch.
2) In the pictures of me as a young girl, the first thing a viewer will notice is my HUGE front teeth, protruding from my face like a lighthouse beacon. Thanks Gramma for paying for my braces.
3) Speaking of teeth, I have these hereditary white calcium deposits on them, which makes it look like my teeth are really yellow in comparison. The only way to get rid of them is to get expensive veneers, so I choose to say that they give my smile "personality".
4) My fingernails and toenails are tiny, oddly shaped, and paper thin. They never grow past my fingertips without tearing in an excruciating accidental brush with anything harder than a marshmallow.
5) My ears stick out. This is combined with the unfortunate physical reaction I have to nervousness, tiredness, and alcohol - they turn purple.
6) I have this "swirl" of hair at the base of my neck, so that when my hair is cut short, my hairline looks like a mullet gone awry.
7) And speaking of hair, I have more body hair than Masud does. Ahem.
8) I have these gross lumps all over my body. My mom and brother have them, too. Some of them are just "fatty cysts", but I have some special ones called "ganglion" cysts on my wrist (see picture). They have roots, and one of them is rooted in my wrist joint, causing considerable pain. The other one is wound around an artery, causing occasional numbness.
Soooo, this Friday I am going to have them whacked off in an outpatient procedure. I'll be sleeping as much as possible, and waiting very, very long before I get the bandages removed, so there will be no dish washing for me. Yay, ganglion cysts!
I guess a little deformity pays off now and then. (Feminist side note: It's really shitty that in order to get a vaycay from doing dishes I have to undergo surgery.)
Yikes, it's almost been a week since I posted. I guess I'm finally settling in to my new schedule. I generally like working, gives me something to think about besides myself, but I really miss my extra time. I've got to figure out how to get some of that back. I have not read Amy Tan for a week. A week! The protagonists are stranded at some hotel in Burma, about to be attacked by terrible dysentery, and I left them hanging there.
One of Masud's old buddies came to visit this weekend. He's a smarty - did his MS and PhD at Cornell in something called Biometrics (think hard hard math) and then got a Royal Family Research Fellowship to research at Oxford. He came from the UK to attend a conference in South Dakota, and then flew over to WI to spend the weekend with us. He is one smart dude, but he was really good with Isaac - they got out Isaac's microscope and looked at gross stuff on slides. He showed Isaac how to focus and stuff. Neato.
Nothing much else is new. And I've got to get some work done. So that's all you get for now.
 | "I paint self-portraits because I am so often alone, because I am the person I know best." |
