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Wednesday, February 1, 2012
Good one, South Carolina
I feel like this is the equivalent of me reading Korean spelled phonetically.
Sunday, January 29, 2012
Welcome to Sacramental Meeting
One of my grandma's frequently repeated stories was that when my grandpa was Stake President, she had to give a talk during a conference. People were dozing off, so she took it upon herself to belt out her version of the Muslim call to prayer to wake them up.
In light of the fact that I very recently heard one of the strangest sacrament meeting talks of all time, I have asked my friends to contribute their own. DISCLAIMER: I am cognizant of the fact that some people's weirdest sacrament talk could very possibly have been one of mine. Also, Youth Conference and Girl's Camp are in a category of their own, so maybe I will have a separate blog about that one.
My Best of Sacrament Meeting
* This actually happened in Sunday School when I was at BYU. The teacher was giving a lesson on kindness and said, "When I first started walking the hallowed halls of UVSC, I expected everyone to be friendly and loving, because there were so many Mormons. However, I met people like Jill who disappointed me in that respect (I had recently declined his generous offer to make out)." Everyone looked at me and I said with disgust, "I don't go to UVSC." Needless to say, that didn't go over well.
* "Ladies, all I have to say is that "Bob" (guy in the ward who she had made out with) is great! I really recommend him."
* "My name is Anne with an "e," but you can call me Cordelia." The weirdest part of this is that her name was not even Anne, with or without an "e."
* "John Bytheway doesn't have anything on me. I can teach you to scour Facebook for foreign saints and I have a wedding date in Vladivostok to prove it. Ed. note: I actually admire this one because I like when people set goals and achieve them. "
* An entire talk using the plot of Mars Attacks as an allegory for the Atonement.
* A man in the ward said, "I love my wife so much because she forgives me even when I don't pick up my socks due to ADD." A few minutes later another man said, "That's great! The next time I feel like throwing my socks on the floor I will say, 'Sorry, honey, I can't. I have ADD.'"
* At five minute intervals, the speaker kept chanting earnestly, "Stop and smell the roses."
* I thought that this was more scandalous before I was in New York City wards, but a guy told and inspirational story about a wake boarding challenge and exclaimed, "That freakin' sucked!"
Friend Poll Best of Sacrament Meeting
* Woman stood up and said how she was so glad that her dog was doing missionary work with the other dogs in the neighborhood and he had converted a lot of them to the gospel. She knew that when dogs were converted they became much easier pets.
* My sister-in-law told me of a woman in her ward who stood during Testimony Meeting with her baby girl, and had the baby give her "testimony" by holding her up and speaking in a high-pitched baby voice
* I once heard someone give the sacrament prayer entirely in their own words. Same points were hit, but completely re-worded.
* Once a man calling himself "Jimmy Boston" bore his testimony of God using an analogy about squirrels he developed during a time he spent living in a park. He also quoted Rocky IV. Ed. note: This was the first movie to make me cry. It might have remained the only if I had never started watching so many weird foreign dramas. At the end, instead of the usual closing sentence, he simply raised both hands, said "thank you! Thank you!", walked down from the stand and out of the chapel and church, never to be seen again.
* Another time in the same "ward" a man stood and bore his testimony about his gratitude for his beautiful girlfriend, sitting in the congregation, who was a blatant tranny.
* Then there was that time that a leader from unidentified New York borough got up in a YSA conference and in one sweep called anyone who was a model, had piercings, tats, unnatural hair color, or...i-pods bad people. That was awesome. He managed to offend 90% of the congregation, people actually got up and left (including the dudes with tats and gages right behind me) and then another stake president had to get up after him and do damage control.
* The speaker said that Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ were completely selfish. (I think she meant to say 'selfless')
* In a singles ward a girl described how she snuck into her boyfriend's tent at the ward camping activity and how hard it was not to have sex. She went on and on about how bad they both wanted it and how good it would feel. Pretty much dirty talking during testimony meeting.
* At BYU during the chastity lesson our Bishop told us he wanted us all to identify our own personal lines and get as close to them as possible to ensure we wouldn't be "disappointed" once we got married.
* A guy bore his testimony about how he was glad for the plan of salvation because he knew his sister's murderer (she was killed that past week) was going to outer darkness.
* A missionary telling us about the dreams they "gave" to their investigator to convince him to join the church. They were all about video game demon destruction, which had something to do with the gospel. The investigator didn't get baptized, and the missionary was wondering why.
* One week a girl told us: "If you don't do your visiting teaching you will never get married" She also quoted Nelson Mandela and told us that he was a former member of the Quorum of the Twelve.
* In a closing prayer at sacrament: "Please bless all the girls in this ward who have sexual transgressions, help them to humble themselves and repent in full."
* Also, my first week in NYC: a father in the ward said during a talk, ”Everyone needs good parents. I just want everyone to know that sometimes kids go wrong anyway and you need to go to God then. He will help you. I used to have my son hang from the door frame by his fingers, like a pull up? I'd use the belt on him and tell him how he'd done wrong. That was really hard for me and even with all that trying, my boy went to jail anyway.”
In light of the fact that I very recently heard one of the strangest sacrament meeting talks of all time, I have asked my friends to contribute their own. DISCLAIMER: I am cognizant of the fact that some people's weirdest sacrament talk could very possibly have been one of mine. Also, Youth Conference and Girl's Camp are in a category of their own, so maybe I will have a separate blog about that one.
My Best of Sacrament Meeting
* This actually happened in Sunday School when I was at BYU. The teacher was giving a lesson on kindness and said, "When I first started walking the hallowed halls of UVSC, I expected everyone to be friendly and loving, because there were so many Mormons. However, I met people like Jill who disappointed me in that respect (I had recently declined his generous offer to make out)." Everyone looked at me and I said with disgust, "I don't go to UVSC." Needless to say, that didn't go over well.
* "Ladies, all I have to say is that "Bob" (guy in the ward who she had made out with) is great! I really recommend him."
* "My name is Anne with an "e," but you can call me Cordelia." The weirdest part of this is that her name was not even Anne, with or without an "e."
* "John Bytheway doesn't have anything on me. I can teach you to scour Facebook for foreign saints and I have a wedding date in Vladivostok to prove it. Ed. note: I actually admire this one because I like when people set goals and achieve them. "
* An entire talk using the plot of Mars Attacks as an allegory for the Atonement.
* A man in the ward said, "I love my wife so much because she forgives me even when I don't pick up my socks due to ADD." A few minutes later another man said, "That's great! The next time I feel like throwing my socks on the floor I will say, 'Sorry, honey, I can't. I have ADD.'"
* At five minute intervals, the speaker kept chanting earnestly, "Stop and smell the roses."
* I thought that this was more scandalous before I was in New York City wards, but a guy told and inspirational story about a wake boarding challenge and exclaimed, "That freakin' sucked!"
Friend Poll Best of Sacrament Meeting
* Woman stood up and said how she was so glad that her dog was doing missionary work with the other dogs in the neighborhood and he had converted a lot of them to the gospel. She knew that when dogs were converted they became much easier pets.
* My sister-in-law told me of a woman in her ward who stood during Testimony Meeting with her baby girl, and had the baby give her "testimony" by holding her up and speaking in a high-pitched baby voice
* I once heard someone give the sacrament prayer entirely in their own words. Same points were hit, but completely re-worded.
* Once a man calling himself "Jimmy Boston" bore his testimony of God using an analogy about squirrels he developed during a time he spent living in a park. He also quoted Rocky IV. Ed. note: This was the first movie to make me cry. It might have remained the only if I had never started watching so many weird foreign dramas. At the end, instead of the usual closing sentence, he simply raised both hands, said "thank you! Thank you!", walked down from the stand and out of the chapel and church, never to be seen again.
* Another time in the same "ward" a man stood and bore his testimony about his gratitude for his beautiful girlfriend, sitting in the congregation, who was a blatant tranny.
* Then there was that time that a leader from unidentified New York borough got up in a YSA conference and in one sweep called anyone who was a model, had piercings, tats, unnatural hair color, or...i-pods bad people. That was awesome. He managed to offend 90% of the congregation, people actually got up and left (including the dudes with tats and gages right behind me) and then another stake president had to get up after him and do damage control.
* The speaker said that Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ were completely selfish. (I think she meant to say 'selfless')
* In a singles ward a girl described how she snuck into her boyfriend's tent at the ward camping activity and how hard it was not to have sex. She went on and on about how bad they both wanted it and how good it would feel. Pretty much dirty talking during testimony meeting.
* At BYU during the chastity lesson our Bishop told us he wanted us all to identify our own personal lines and get as close to them as possible to ensure we wouldn't be "disappointed" once we got married.
* A guy bore his testimony about how he was glad for the plan of salvation because he knew his sister's murderer (she was killed that past week) was going to outer darkness.
* A missionary telling us about the dreams they "gave" to their investigator to convince him to join the church. They were all about video game demon destruction, which had something to do with the gospel. The investigator didn't get baptized, and the missionary was wondering why.
* One week a girl told us: "If you don't do your visiting teaching you will never get married" She also quoted Nelson Mandela and told us that he was a former member of the Quorum of the Twelve.
* In a closing prayer at sacrament: "Please bless all the girls in this ward who have sexual transgressions, help them to humble themselves and repent in full."
* Also, my first week in NYC: a father in the ward said during a talk, ”Everyone needs good parents. I just want everyone to know that sometimes kids go wrong anyway and you need to go to God then. He will help you. I used to have my son hang from the door frame by his fingers, like a pull up? I'd use the belt on him and tell him how he'd done wrong. That was really hard for me and even with all that trying, my boy went to jail anyway.”
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
Shining Stars of the American Public School System
One of the good/bad things about being a teacher is the potential that you have to send a little piece of yourself into the future. Everyone remembers their influential teachers, especially the super eccentric ones. Sometimes I get nervous about the weird stories that could be circulating in Turkey/Honduras/throughout the U.S. regarding a certain batty blonde woman, but it doesn't really impede me from saying really weird stuff to keep myself entertained all day.
I asked my friends to share their most memorable experiences with me and the following are the sometimes horrifying results. If you gave me one on gchat and I forgot to cut and paste it, my most sincere apologies.
* I didn't have her but there was an English teacher at my high school who had a psychotic episode and truly believed that she was Scarlett O'Hara. She showed up at school wearing a hoop skirt and gargling perfume, although that may have been partly to mask the scent of other liquids she'd previously imbibed. Ed. note: I think this is my favorite one.
* Her make-up was tattooed to her face in a way that made her look elated when she was off-put and her zeal for sex scenes kept us focused on very small windows of Shakespeare's collected works.
* A 60-something who dates much younger men, only wears clothes from the thrift store, cuts her hair in the work bathroom, will say the opposite of whatever someone else says, hates all people (but will defend subs to the death for some reason), loves animals and regularly eats herring and odd items (eg a potato) found in her purse.
* The Gilderoy Lockhart of Behavioral Psychology. He would tell crazy stories about solving all the problems of mass quantities of boys with autism simply by using string or something.
* One of my crazier professors suggested (during the DC sniper rampage) that all people in the greater DC area wear a target on their back to show solidarity.
* I had a "diversity class" professor who constantly referenced her children in class and referred to them as her "brown children". She was obviously very proud of herself for marrying a hispanic and producing "brown children". She was very white, and living in Provo. I guess you cling to what you've got.
* A political science professor, offending at least half the class per semester, Brother ___ would spit through his floppy dentures how women shouldn’t leave the home or gain an education. Ed. note: I think that we can all infer that this incident did not take place at UC Berkeley.
* Another high school teacher who I didn't have was an Iranian political refugee who taught physics and shocked students who fell asleep in class with a cattle prod. After being informed that that wasn't acceptable he switched to pelting snoozers with tennis balls as hard as he could, he kept a pretty alert group of students in his room.
* White shirt, black bra, liked to lean in and say how she liked women who wore red lipstick - her voice was incredibly high pitched and she looked a lot like kung fu panda.
* Mr. E. (we called him "Lloydski" since his name was Lloyd) was straight out of the 70s with an alcohol-induced red face, gold chain, and curly graying chest hair...for any class party when the sign-ups went around he always thought it was hilarious that someone would sign him up to bring Kahlua and coffee since we were pretty sure that was what he was drinking all day long. Oh, and did I mention he was an aspiring actor and in his 60s was an extra working as a "peasant" on Titanic? Apparently you can catch a glimpse of him in the opening scenes when they are loading the boat.
* He took me skydiving and when I landed, he ran over to hug me and squeezed my butt with both hands. Ed. note: More information, please
* I had my first semester Humanities professor at BYU tell me personally that the only teachers that were good ones were members of the church, and all the others were useless.
* The male Shakespeare professor who wore all the gaudy rings seemed really on edge all the time.
* I loved my tenth grade English teacher, who wrote and sang ballads that helped us memorize the rules of grammar. DO re Action to the tune of Do Re Mi (direct object receives the action of the sentence). IO re DO (EIEIO), etc.
* My freshman HS Geography teacher taught us how to spell the 50 states. And we were quizzed. When my mom complained to him about this at parent teacher conf, he told her that he was too busy managing the football team and she needed to understand priorities. Every parent teacher night after he would ask me if my mom was planning on coming so he could "prep."
* My HS math teacher's fave endearing term for his students was "perverts." When asking us questions he would say "which one of you perverts knows the answer??" He was also a Bishop at the time.
* Miss H., the worst 1st grade teacher ever, who couldn't understand why 5-6 year olds didn't have the attention span of adults and was constantly yelling. I remember her having us stand next to our desks silently during an entire lunch recess while she talked on her phone to her friend about how annoying we were. She was maybe 22. Most parents tried moving kids out of her class but after 10 kids moved out, they wouldn't let anyone else out
* A football coach teacher who would use all his might to slap students desks with a yard stick during tests to "ease the tension in the room"
* In college I had a teacher (with whom i had zero relationship on any kind of personal level) who blew a huge misunderstanding out of proportion and ended up staging a confrontation with me which turned out to be a therapy session for her, with me as her impromptu and involuntary therapist. All I know is I sat there the entire time feeling like i was in an alternate universe or maybe Totally Hidden Video and the therapy session ended with me apologizing again and asking her what she wanted me to do and she sat quietly weeping, shook her head and said "nothing."
* And finally, a response in the form of a poem:
wore bike helmet to class, so excited
about particle physics
he forgot to take it off.
office a stack of papers ten feet
with a two foot circle in the middle
just large enough for a brain and chair
died his shirt tie-dye to hide a ketchup stain
believed in mars
and the colonization thereof.
I asked my friends to share their most memorable experiences with me and the following are the sometimes horrifying results. If you gave me one on gchat and I forgot to cut and paste it, my most sincere apologies.
* I didn't have her but there was an English teacher at my high school who had a psychotic episode and truly believed that she was Scarlett O'Hara. She showed up at school wearing a hoop skirt and gargling perfume, although that may have been partly to mask the scent of other liquids she'd previously imbibed. Ed. note: I think this is my favorite one.
* Her make-up was tattooed to her face in a way that made her look elated when she was off-put and her zeal for sex scenes kept us focused on very small windows of Shakespeare's collected works.
* A 60-something who dates much younger men, only wears clothes from the thrift store, cuts her hair in the work bathroom, will say the opposite of whatever someone else says, hates all people (but will defend subs to the death for some reason), loves animals and regularly eats herring and odd items (eg a potato) found in her purse.
* The Gilderoy Lockhart of Behavioral Psychology. He would tell crazy stories about solving all the problems of mass quantities of boys with autism simply by using string or something.
* One of my crazier professors suggested (during the DC sniper rampage) that all people in the greater DC area wear a target on their back to show solidarity.
* I had a "diversity class" professor who constantly referenced her children in class and referred to them as her "brown children". She was obviously very proud of herself for marrying a hispanic and producing "brown children". She was very white, and living in Provo. I guess you cling to what you've got.
* A political science professor, offending at least half the class per semester, Brother ___ would spit through his floppy dentures how women shouldn’t leave the home or gain an education. Ed. note: I think that we can all infer that this incident did not take place at UC Berkeley.
* Another high school teacher who I didn't have was an Iranian political refugee who taught physics and shocked students who fell asleep in class with a cattle prod. After being informed that that wasn't acceptable he switched to pelting snoozers with tennis balls as hard as he could, he kept a pretty alert group of students in his room.
* White shirt, black bra, liked to lean in and say how she liked women who wore red lipstick - her voice was incredibly high pitched and she looked a lot like kung fu panda.
* Mr. E. (we called him "Lloydski" since his name was Lloyd) was straight out of the 70s with an alcohol-induced red face, gold chain, and curly graying chest hair...for any class party when the sign-ups went around he always thought it was hilarious that someone would sign him up to bring Kahlua and coffee since we were pretty sure that was what he was drinking all day long. Oh, and did I mention he was an aspiring actor and in his 60s was an extra working as a "peasant" on Titanic? Apparently you can catch a glimpse of him in the opening scenes when they are loading the boat.
* He took me skydiving and when I landed, he ran over to hug me and squeezed my butt with both hands. Ed. note: More information, please
* I had my first semester Humanities professor at BYU tell me personally that the only teachers that were good ones were members of the church, and all the others were useless.
* The male Shakespeare professor who wore all the gaudy rings seemed really on edge all the time.
* I loved my tenth grade English teacher, who wrote and sang ballads that helped us memorize the rules of grammar. DO re Action to the tune of Do Re Mi (direct object receives the action of the sentence). IO re DO (EIEIO), etc.
* My freshman HS Geography teacher taught us how to spell the 50 states. And we were quizzed. When my mom complained to him about this at parent teacher conf, he told her that he was too busy managing the football team and she needed to understand priorities. Every parent teacher night after he would ask me if my mom was planning on coming so he could "prep."
* My HS math teacher's fave endearing term for his students was "perverts." When asking us questions he would say "which one of you perverts knows the answer??" He was also a Bishop at the time.
* Miss H., the worst 1st grade teacher ever, who couldn't understand why 5-6 year olds didn't have the attention span of adults and was constantly yelling. I remember her having us stand next to our desks silently during an entire lunch recess while she talked on her phone to her friend about how annoying we were. She was maybe 22. Most parents tried moving kids out of her class but after 10 kids moved out, they wouldn't let anyone else out
* A football coach teacher who would use all his might to slap students desks with a yard stick during tests to "ease the tension in the room"
* In college I had a teacher (with whom i had zero relationship on any kind of personal level) who blew a huge misunderstanding out of proportion and ended up staging a confrontation with me which turned out to be a therapy session for her, with me as her impromptu and involuntary therapist. All I know is I sat there the entire time feeling like i was in an alternate universe or maybe Totally Hidden Video and the therapy session ended with me apologizing again and asking her what she wanted me to do and she sat quietly weeping, shook her head and said "nothing."
* And finally, a response in the form of a poem:
wore bike helmet to class, so excited
about particle physics
he forgot to take it off.
office a stack of papers ten feet
with a two foot circle in the middle
just large enough for a brain and chair
died his shirt tie-dye to hide a ketchup stain
believed in mars
and the colonization thereof.
Monday, January 23, 2012
My Life As A Carny: Part Two
I know that I have discussed my freakishly small feet before, but I think that this picture sums it up pretty well:
Let me know if you have any tips on where to buy size 5 shoes. I am starting to come to grips with the fact that stuffing size 6 so that they fit me is giving me a strange gait.
Let me know if you have any tips on where to buy size 5 shoes. I am starting to come to grips with the fact that stuffing size 6 so that they fit me is giving me a strange gait.
Sunday, January 15, 2012
Toward the Peaceful Coexistence of Introverts and Extroverts
In the spirit of full disclosure, I am not even a little shy or introverted. In fact, I realized recently that spending too much time alone turns me into a nihilist (and probably also the gloomy month of January). I almost always know what to say and I don't ever get tongue tied. And I usually have pretty good comebacks, which has proven to be a professional asset.
I have been surprised in recent years to realize that not everyone feels the same way. One of my friends told me once that she experienced social anxiety before she hung out with me for the first time and I was shocked. Understanding that everyone isn't instantly effusive has really helped me not to have hurt feelings so easily. It is hard for me to imagine that someone wouldn't talk to me because of shyness, but I'm sure that it happens sometimes.
Thanks to Bridget of Arabia for posting Socially Awkward Penguin. It really made me think about my own social awkwardness.
Socially Awkward Miss Jill
* Post something on my blog, think of it two hours later and then start to stress that it is too offensive. I am usually driving or on public transportation at the time, so nothing can be done.
* I make friends in weird places, so I am frequently invited to events where I only know the host. This is one of the only things that gives me social anxiety, because you know that the host doesn't want to babysit you and you will be stuck having awkward convos with strangers.
* Sometimes I get too keyed up to eat (obviously not that often) in social situations and people think that I don't like the food.
* Laugh at my own jokes and stories, way too loudly.
* Tell too many weird stories in a row so that I sound like a pathological liar. Even I listen to myself and think, "How could all of this happen to one person?"
* Constantly check to see if I texted/e-mailed the wrong person (because I have done this)
* I am usually too self-conscious to make comments in classes or discussion groups, which always surprises people.
* Check my phone for pocket dialing before I start to talk about something personal.
* Remember random things about people for decades so that I look like a stalker.
* Talk to myself.
* I will admit that there have been times that I pretended not to see people on public transportation.
I will examine my own behavior today and see if I can come up with some more.
I have been surprised in recent years to realize that not everyone feels the same way. One of my friends told me once that she experienced social anxiety before she hung out with me for the first time and I was shocked. Understanding that everyone isn't instantly effusive has really helped me not to have hurt feelings so easily. It is hard for me to imagine that someone wouldn't talk to me because of shyness, but I'm sure that it happens sometimes.
Thanks to Bridget of Arabia for posting Socially Awkward Penguin. It really made me think about my own social awkwardness.
Socially Awkward Miss Jill
* Post something on my blog, think of it two hours later and then start to stress that it is too offensive. I am usually driving or on public transportation at the time, so nothing can be done.
* I make friends in weird places, so I am frequently invited to events where I only know the host. This is one of the only things that gives me social anxiety, because you know that the host doesn't want to babysit you and you will be stuck having awkward convos with strangers.
* Sometimes I get too keyed up to eat (obviously not that often) in social situations and people think that I don't like the food.
* Laugh at my own jokes and stories, way too loudly.
* Tell too many weird stories in a row so that I sound like a pathological liar. Even I listen to myself and think, "How could all of this happen to one person?"
* Constantly check to see if I texted/e-mailed the wrong person (because I have done this)
* I am usually too self-conscious to make comments in classes or discussion groups, which always surprises people.
* Check my phone for pocket dialing before I start to talk about something personal.
* Remember random things about people for decades so that I look like a stalker.
* Talk to myself.
* I will admit that there have been times that I pretended not to see people on public transportation.
I will examine my own behavior today and see if I can come up with some more.
In Which the Latest Parisian Trends Hit the Defensive Line
Ok, I try not to blog about work, but this one can't be helped.
One of my students is a colossal football player who happened to have a birthday on Wednesday. He celebrated the day by not attending school. When he came into class on Thursday, the first thing that he said was, "Ain't you going to wish me a happy belated birthday?" I complied and asked, "So, what did you do yesterday instead of going to school?" He replied, "I went to the mall, went out to eat, went to the spa..."
"Ok, wait a minute. Please give me more information about the statement 'I went to the spa.'"
"I got my nails fixed. A manicure and pedicure. My mom don't like me to look raggedy."
"Please show me your hands."
Imagine Shaq thrusting his hands into your face. Then imagine that his nails were filed into perfect ovals and painted pink.
A few hours later I had study hall duty with another teacher. When he came in, I immediately asked him to interrogate the student about what he had done for his birthday.
A few boys started mocking him immediately. "He went to the spa! He gay!."
For a second I thought that I would have to intervene, but he responded confidently, "No I ain't. I just like to look good. All the men in Europe is doin' it."
One of my students is a colossal football player who happened to have a birthday on Wednesday. He celebrated the day by not attending school. When he came into class on Thursday, the first thing that he said was, "Ain't you going to wish me a happy belated birthday?" I complied and asked, "So, what did you do yesterday instead of going to school?" He replied, "I went to the mall, went out to eat, went to the spa..."
"Ok, wait a minute. Please give me more information about the statement 'I went to the spa.'"
"I got my nails fixed. A manicure and pedicure. My mom don't like me to look raggedy."
"Please show me your hands."
Imagine Shaq thrusting his hands into your face. Then imagine that his nails were filed into perfect ovals and painted pink.
A few hours later I had study hall duty with another teacher. When he came in, I immediately asked him to interrogate the student about what he had done for his birthday.
A few boys started mocking him immediately. "He went to the spa! He gay!."
For a second I thought that I would have to intervene, but he responded confidently, "No I ain't. I just like to look good. All the men in Europe is doin' it."
Thursday, January 12, 2012
In Which the Heckler and the Victim are Irrevocably Linked
I would like to point out that every time I say something slightly humorous about Utah, I lose several Google Reader subscribers. However, when I dedicated a whole post to making fun of California, no one unsubscribed and several Californians left affirming comments. What can we learn from this?
When I was in a BYU ward, I had to give the Sister Spotlight every Sunday in Relief Society*. I did copious research and came up with some pretty good gossip-one that stands out to me is that one of the girls had sustained a gun shot wound to the buttocks. I usually would tell a story or read some clues and then everyone would have to guess who it was, then I would give them a personalized gift. Once there were some visitors who remarked that they wanted to move into our ward after I gave a girl a guitar, not realizing that I had broken into her house during Sunday School and taken it from her bedroom. Like every high profile ward member, I was a polarizing figure. Many girls told me that Sister Spotlight was the only reason that they went to Relief Society, but I do remember someone saying, right after I was finished, "And now I will give the lesson on reverence, in complete contrast to what just happened."
One Sunday I launched into a particularly juicy Sister Spotlight. I can't even remember exactly what I said, but I laid out tons of salacious details. The girl had once had a death crush on a guy who was too skinny to donate blood. Her retainer fell on another guy's head at an ice skating rink. Some people chuckled nervously, others looked really uncomfortable. Later, the Relief Society President told me, "I thought, 'This time, she's gone too far. I have to stop this!'" However, before she could act, one of my friends realized what was happening and yelled, "You are spotlighting yourself!" Everyone started laughing, relieved.
I was at a party a year later and a girl came up to me and said, "This is going to sound really weird, but I think that I recognize you. I might have visited your ward with my ex-boyfriend. Are you the Sister Spotlight girl?"
* Mormon women's organization.
When I was in a BYU ward, I had to give the Sister Spotlight every Sunday in Relief Society*. I did copious research and came up with some pretty good gossip-one that stands out to me is that one of the girls had sustained a gun shot wound to the buttocks. I usually would tell a story or read some clues and then everyone would have to guess who it was, then I would give them a personalized gift. Once there were some visitors who remarked that they wanted to move into our ward after I gave a girl a guitar, not realizing that I had broken into her house during Sunday School and taken it from her bedroom. Like every high profile ward member, I was a polarizing figure. Many girls told me that Sister Spotlight was the only reason that they went to Relief Society, but I do remember someone saying, right after I was finished, "And now I will give the lesson on reverence, in complete contrast to what just happened."
One Sunday I launched into a particularly juicy Sister Spotlight. I can't even remember exactly what I said, but I laid out tons of salacious details. The girl had once had a death crush on a guy who was too skinny to donate blood. Her retainer fell on another guy's head at an ice skating rink. Some people chuckled nervously, others looked really uncomfortable. Later, the Relief Society President told me, "I thought, 'This time, she's gone too far. I have to stop this!'" However, before she could act, one of my friends realized what was happening and yelled, "You are spotlighting yourself!" Everyone started laughing, relieved.
I was at a party a year later and a girl came up to me and said, "This is going to sound really weird, but I think that I recognize you. I might have visited your ward with my ex-boyfriend. Are you the Sister Spotlight girl?"
* Mormon women's organization.
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
Dominican Decade Anniversary or In Which I Sadly Realize That I Used To Be Super Fun
I just remembered that it is the tenth anniversary of my study abroad in the Dominican Republic. I was kind of horrified when I realized that my passport had expired and that I had obtained it as an adult. I lost the previous one in London and they still let me back into the United States without it (1999). I've written about the D.R. before, so hopefully this is not too repetitive.
Highlights
* I lived with an alcohol/drug abusing family that didn't give me any food on the weekends when the maid went back to the countryside. I kind of wish that it would happen again, because it was better than Weight Watchers. Once they pressured me into eating liver, because they wanted to enjoy the face of revulsion that I would inevitably make. They kept joyfully exclaiming, "Gringos hate liver!" I also recall several incidents of the dad prancing around the house in tighty whities. Worst host family ever!
* Everyone who went to the salon got the Rachel. Somehow, I decided that it was appropriate to wear the same shades of eyeshadow as the locals, who may or may not have been of a slightly darker skin tone. When I returned, my brothers kept calling me Mimi until I learned my lesson.
* My professor's son fell asleep on the bus and I succeeded in applying a full face of makeup before he woke up.
* Somehow I collected this rank posse of street dogs that followed me to school every day. It expanded even more when one of the dogs randomly dropped a litter. I wish this wasn't before digital cameras, because the pics of it are hilarious.
* Getting into Havana at night and thinking that it was really swanky, then waking up to see peeling paint and a general state of disrepair.
* When I depanced another girl at the airport. Mixed reactions from locals.
* Always wanting to try the bidet in the bathroom, but always succumbing to the fear that I would break it.
* Swimming at a local luxury hotel because the owners thought that it looked posh to have Americans in their pool.
* In Cuba, a guy screamed, "Too much McDonalds!" at a group of us. For days, everyone nervously wondered who he was referring to and how he knew about McDonalds.
* My host mother's 19 inch waist and 57 inch booty.
* One of my neighbors was this massive adolescent everyone called "La Grandota." The kid at my house told me that she came from New York after 9-11 and didn't even know the days of the week in Spanish, so I went to investigate. Somehow this scenario ended up with us giving La Grandota a makeover in my bedroom.
* Our tour guide was a chain smoker named Oscar who told us that there was a city where girls turned into boys (or something like that???). He took some pictures of the group and somehow most of them had a panoramic view of a girl's butt (I will keep her identity secret as she is now a mild mannered housewife).
* NUDE EUROS EVERYWHERE
* Holy War over going out to eat on Sunday in San Juan.
* A group I dubbed, "The girls who talk about love," because they always sat around saying dreamy stuff like, "It's all about the way he treats you... " sigh
* The night when we had a private island and people started skinny dipping while our professor peacefully slumbered. The next day was the only time that I did not take a shower, ever.
* Everyone who was getting it on with Dominicans, Cubans or Colombians. I wish that I had had the foresight to do some discreet camera work, because I'm pretty sure that I could have become a millionaire off "Girls Gone Wild: BYU Study Abroad."
* I have a distant memory of leading games of truth or dare, but I am having a difficult time remembering. Maybe someone can help me out.
* Pretending to be communists in a hotel in Havana.
* Eating Cheetoes, just like I ate french fries in Honduras. I never eat either of those foods in the U.S., but for some reason I get hit by culinary homesickness.
* A lady b-slapping my friend in Haiti when she refused to buy cans of American aid food.
* The fact that I am still friends with a majority of the people in my group. Let's face it, you have to be kind of off to pick that study abroad option in the first place.
I have really fond memories of that period of my life, because I was still really idealistic. I had no reason not to be. I'm not sure which person I would rather be, but I suppose that you can't get away with depancing someone at age 30.
Monday, January 9, 2012
Miss Jill's Compendium of Turn-on Triggers
The other day my friend told me that she met a guy at a YSA conference and she was instantly smitten, because he used the word "reconnoiter."
That gave me the idea to poll some women and to compile a list of people's split second turn ons. For me, I could only think of asking questions, showing interest in my life and offering to help women with heavy luggage (I have spent too much time on subways). Ok, I have been attracted to unibrows in the past, but I seem to be over that. Quite a few of my respondents are already married and one asked that I not share the list with her husband, because none of them applied to him.
FOR THOSE WHO DO NOT READ CAREFULLY, THESE ARE NOT MY RESPONSES. SORRY IF YOU SAID THAT CANNING IS SEXY, BUT I DON'T WANT THAT ATTRIBUTED TO ME
Winner: Attraction to clowns.
Multiple people responded with: Recycling, sense of humor, beards ed. note: gross!, foreign accents (especially British), knowing how to fix a car, pays for you
Highlights:
"My friend helped a woman over some bikes on a bus to make sure she had a seat and I wanted to make out with him RIGHT THEN."
"He started going off on libertarians at dinner and that's when I knew that I wanted to have his baby."
"You know how some people marry for money? I would marry for building skills."
"Argyle sweaters. I gave my brother one for Christmas so he would attract my type of girl."
"Well as for me, I love the nerd. Kind of odd, super intelligent. In the beginning, I liked husband's name because he was really witty and seemed to have zero interest in me. This may imply that typically every guy was into me but it's just not true. But he is the opposite of a player."
"Canning is really sexy. As is bike riding. Not road biking necessarily, but someone who uses a bike to get around." ed. note: I hate people on bikes in cities. They give me road rage
Molly Mormon Answers
Will sit in the front row of church
Giving blessings is sexy. Nothing beats a guy who is worthy to give a blessing.
Miscellaneous
If the person is in a street theater troupe (same person who likes clowns)
Having a job/financially independent (bonus if it's manual labor, food service a close second) ed. note: please make sure that you noticed that this said food service
Nice to people with disabilities
Brings me berries
Give up seat for random woman on metro/anywhere else
Likes opera
Flannel button downs
Jewish comedians
Windsor knots
Tallness
Smelling good and manly
Putting your hand on my back when i walk through a door.
Putting your hands on my face while we're kissing.
Knowing how to cook
Maintaining an orderly filing system
Aqua di gio
Playing the drums
Correct use of your/you're, etc.
Capable hands
Dancing skills ed. note: this is actually a turn off for me
Tips well
Having left the US or travelled
Taste in music
Thanks to everyone who responded to my survey! Please feel free to add anything.
Sunday, January 8, 2012
Calithority
If life circumstances pushed me to live in California, I would be very, very happy. I like the west coast. However, I cannot tell you how many times I have heard someone say, "Well, I'm from California, so fill in the blank with an authoritative opinion.
I don't even know what I could say with geographic certainty. I'm from Chicago, so I know how to register dead people to vote? I'm from Chicago, so I know how to get an illegal drivers license?
Things that people from California think that they are experts on:*
1. Earthquakes- All I have to say is that if Miami got hit by a tornado, I wouldn't try to go all Midwesterner on their expletive deleted. and say that it was no big deal.
2. Traffic-I thought it was interesting to note that my hometown and my current city both beat SoCal, although I have never given someone a lecture about traffic.
The top 10 cities for traffic delays in 2009:
1st - (tie) Chicago, Washington, D.C. – 70 hours
3rd - Southern California – 63 hours
4th - Houston – 58 hours
5th - San Francisco-Oakland – 49 hours
6th - (tie) Dallas-Fort Worth, Boston – 48 hours
8th - Atlanta, Seattle – 44 hours
10th - New York- Newark – 42 hours
3. Having good weather-I concede.
4. Mexican food-I can't tell you how many times I have heard people say, "There is no good Mexican food in this city. I am from California, I would know." Yeah, one of my parents is actually from Mexico and I would never call myself an expert. I think that the only place I have ever lived with absolutely NO good Mexican food was Honduras, because they always mixed their nasty cheese into everything. Just go somewhere that looks like it is due for a city sanitation department bust and you should be good.
5. Wearing flip flops in the middle of January when it is snowing-Maybe this is just a BYU thing? Also, wearing board shorts/booty shorts to places that it is inappropriate.
6. Electing actors as governor-I had a long standing crush on Reagan as a child, so this isn't a d-i-s-s-. It keeps autocorrection to "ids," so I had to write it like that.
It is 9:15, good night.
* This is all based on my personal interactions. I have no idea if these are universal.
I don't even know what I could say with geographic certainty. I'm from Chicago, so I know how to register dead people to vote? I'm from Chicago, so I know how to get an illegal drivers license?
Things that people from California think that they are experts on:*
1. Earthquakes- All I have to say is that if Miami got hit by a tornado, I wouldn't try to go all Midwesterner on their expletive deleted. and say that it was no big deal.
2. Traffic-I thought it was interesting to note that my hometown and my current city both beat SoCal, although I have never given someone a lecture about traffic.
The top 10 cities for traffic delays in 2009:
1st - (tie) Chicago, Washington, D.C. – 70 hours
3rd - Southern California – 63 hours
4th - Houston – 58 hours
5th - San Francisco-Oakland – 49 hours
6th - (tie) Dallas-Fort Worth, Boston – 48 hours
8th - Atlanta, Seattle – 44 hours
10th - New York- Newark – 42 hours
3. Having good weather-I concede.
4. Mexican food-I can't tell you how many times I have heard people say, "There is no good Mexican food in this city. I am from California, I would know." Yeah, one of my parents is actually from Mexico and I would never call myself an expert. I think that the only place I have ever lived with absolutely NO good Mexican food was Honduras, because they always mixed their nasty cheese into everything. Just go somewhere that looks like it is due for a city sanitation department bust and you should be good.
5. Wearing flip flops in the middle of January when it is snowing-Maybe this is just a BYU thing? Also, wearing board shorts/booty shorts to places that it is inappropriate.
6. Electing actors as governor-I had a long standing crush on Reagan as a child, so this isn't a d-i-s-s-. It keeps autocorrection to "ids," so I had to write it like that.
It is 9:15, good night.
* This is all based on my personal interactions. I have no idea if these are universal.
Friday, January 6, 2012
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Have these people even read Les Miserables? What's next? Sir Anthony Hopkins on Hangover 3?
Wednesday, January 4, 2012
The Beijingish Nightingale
Don't close your eyes, because you might get confused and think that you are at Sea World at a dolphin show. As someone who hit the apex of her piano talent in 1998, I was so impressed that this little girl can even turn her own pages:
My grandma was an opera singer who allegedly belted out tunes while in labor. Before she died, she made a CD with her greatest hits and gave it to everyone in the family. I listen to it in the car all the time, because I still miss her. However, I was a little bit surprised that someone turned the Gettysburg Address into an aria for mezzo-soprano (track 2).
My grandma was an opera singer who allegedly belted out tunes while in labor. Before she died, she made a CD with her greatest hits and gave it to everyone in the family. I listen to it in the car all the time, because I still miss her. However, I was a little bit surprised that someone turned the Gettysburg Address into an aria for mezzo-soprano (track 2).
Saturday, December 31, 2011
My House On New Year's Eve At 6:40 P.M.
Not the most flattering pics, but none of them read my blog (it is not a Louis L'amour or book about a coach). I wish that I could add audio of the chorus of snoring.
La Fiesta de Baby Troy
All week my mother has been trying to get us to play games with her and every time she asks, everyone just stares into space and pretends like it isn't happening. Sometimes my sister-in-law misunderstands and accidentally answers her. After several days of frustration, she announced that tonight we are having a birthday party for Baby Troy. The party includes playing multiple games and eating an ice cream cake that has been in the freezer since his actual birthday on December 6. Baby Troy's response to the plan was, "You know that we have the best time as a family when we go on laptops and hang out in separate rooms."
Friday, December 30, 2011
2011 Recap/First and Last Emo Post of My Life
Sorry, we are going to the airport so I can't proofread this.
One of my great joys in life comes from scrolling down my Facebook newsfeed on December 31 and reading fifty times, "Fill in the blank year sucked! Welcome 20...This is my year!" I am going to go out on a limb and say that the worst thing that happened to some of those people is not dating.
Noteworthy Events of 2011
My Favorite Movies
Sorry to all of you who are disappointed in me for watching R-rated movies, but at least I am not singing the praises of The Hangover. All of my sinning is educational.
Of Gods and Men
Incendies
I wrote a blogpost about how traumatizing this movie was here. Yes, there is a typo on the word "soothe," but I am too lazy to go in there and fix it. I'm sure if you are a regular reader, you have seen your share of typos.
And the only movie that has ever had me leaning forward, on the edge of my seat:
Too bad I had to keep telling the man next to me to stop loudly translating the movie into Chinese for his girlfriend. I would love to know how he translated "Hufflepuff."
Moved To DC Against My Will
I am one of the most decisive people I have ever met, but that is because I usually get pretty clear divine guidance. The Holy Ghost has told me to do some pretty weird things, like move to Honduras or quit my job in a scathing e-mail, but it has worked out enough that I just do it. In August I got the feeling to apply to schools in DC and the feeling was confirmed when I got a job the same week.
To be honest, I was kind of horrified. I kept succumbing to these melodramatic moments in which I looked out the subway window onto South Brooklyn and sobbed. Ugh, writing this is making me nostalgic. I have liked my job since the first day (the earthquake), but I think that the move was more traumatic for me than I admitted to myself, since I am such a professional transient. Even though it can be a really hard place to live, I loved New York from the first day to the last. I don't think it would be productive to make a list of everything/everyone that I miss, but leaving kind of robbed me of my usual joie de vivre attitude for a while. I was so sad and lonely that I think that I was semi-catatonic until maybe mid-November. Maybe I was finally getting PTSD for everything that happened since I graduated from college. Then I decided that I had let the mourning period go on long enough and snapped out of it. It was actually a pretty cathartic experience and really it is a small price to pay to have more empathy for sadness.
Drivers Licenses
Illinois: January and February
New York: February to September
Virginia: September to December. My Virginia license is so bootleg that not only is my birthday incorrect, but the picture is super bad (they don't let you smile). Maybe the DMV worker should have focused a little more, instead of monologuing me about how her co-worker asks too many questions in staff meeting. The security woman at the airport told me, "This don't look like you," so I showed her my New York license. Sometimes my hair disappears in black and white photos.
Best Television Show
I don't have a tv, so the competition was not very stiff.
My Dad Had Chemo, a Stem-Cell Transplant and An Angioplasty
Hey, as long as I'm writing uncharacteristically depressing stuff... I think that the first time that I really understood the gravity of the situation was when my brother texted me a picture of my other brother sitting with his legs crossed and the caption, "Look who's gay, lol" (ok, some people in my family have meathead tendencies). My dad was sitting behind my brother and his hair was gone. I was so shocked that I started crying on the subway, which seems to be a theme of this post. When the subway is full of break dancers and drunks, no one is fazed by a little emotional breakdown. It was agonizing for me to realize that he wasn't invincible and that we had so little control over the outcome of the procedures. I think up to that point, I never imagined that my family would be affected by something so harrowing. Luckily my parents live by Northwestern and everything has gone as well as possible and many positive things have happened.
I'm not really sure what inspired me to write all that, except that is really some of what happened. I post the funny stuff all the time, so you are already up to speed. 2011 had a lot of great moments and the bad ones had good outcomes, so I have nothing to put in a Facebook status.
Happy New Year!
One of my great joys in life comes from scrolling down my Facebook newsfeed on December 31 and reading fifty times, "Fill in the blank year sucked! Welcome 20...This is my year!" I am going to go out on a limb and say that the worst thing that happened to some of those people is not dating.
Noteworthy Events of 2011
My Favorite Movies
Sorry to all of you who are disappointed in me for watching R-rated movies, but at least I am not singing the praises of The Hangover. All of my sinning is educational.
Of Gods and Men
Incendies
I wrote a blogpost about how traumatizing this movie was here. Yes, there is a typo on the word "soothe," but I am too lazy to go in there and fix it. I'm sure if you are a regular reader, you have seen your share of typos.
And the only movie that has ever had me leaning forward, on the edge of my seat:
Too bad I had to keep telling the man next to me to stop loudly translating the movie into Chinese for his girlfriend. I would love to know how he translated "Hufflepuff."
Moved To DC Against My Will
I am one of the most decisive people I have ever met, but that is because I usually get pretty clear divine guidance. The Holy Ghost has told me to do some pretty weird things, like move to Honduras or quit my job in a scathing e-mail, but it has worked out enough that I just do it. In August I got the feeling to apply to schools in DC and the feeling was confirmed when I got a job the same week.
To be honest, I was kind of horrified. I kept succumbing to these melodramatic moments in which I looked out the subway window onto South Brooklyn and sobbed. Ugh, writing this is making me nostalgic. I have liked my job since the first day (the earthquake), but I think that the move was more traumatic for me than I admitted to myself, since I am such a professional transient. Even though it can be a really hard place to live, I loved New York from the first day to the last. I don't think it would be productive to make a list of everything/everyone that I miss, but leaving kind of robbed me of my usual joie de vivre attitude for a while. I was so sad and lonely that I think that I was semi-catatonic until maybe mid-November. Maybe I was finally getting PTSD for everything that happened since I graduated from college. Then I decided that I had let the mourning period go on long enough and snapped out of it. It was actually a pretty cathartic experience and really it is a small price to pay to have more empathy for sadness.
Drivers Licenses
Illinois: January and February
New York: February to September
Virginia: September to December. My Virginia license is so bootleg that not only is my birthday incorrect, but the picture is super bad (they don't let you smile). Maybe the DMV worker should have focused a little more, instead of monologuing me about how her co-worker asks too many questions in staff meeting. The security woman at the airport told me, "This don't look like you," so I showed her my New York license. Sometimes my hair disappears in black and white photos.
Best Television Show
I don't have a tv, so the competition was not very stiff.
My Dad Had Chemo, a Stem-Cell Transplant and An Angioplasty
Hey, as long as I'm writing uncharacteristically depressing stuff... I think that the first time that I really understood the gravity of the situation was when my brother texted me a picture of my other brother sitting with his legs crossed and the caption, "Look who's gay, lol" (ok, some people in my family have meathead tendencies). My dad was sitting behind my brother and his hair was gone. I was so shocked that I started crying on the subway, which seems to be a theme of this post. When the subway is full of break dancers and drunks, no one is fazed by a little emotional breakdown. It was agonizing for me to realize that he wasn't invincible and that we had so little control over the outcome of the procedures. I think up to that point, I never imagined that my family would be affected by something so harrowing. Luckily my parents live by Northwestern and everything has gone as well as possible and many positive things have happened.
I'm not really sure what inspired me to write all that, except that is really some of what happened. I post the funny stuff all the time, so you are already up to speed. 2011 had a lot of great moments and the bad ones had good outcomes, so I have nothing to put in a Facebook status.
Happy New Year!
The Bizarro Miss Jill
This is going to be a weird post, since I just discussed my hatred of chick flicks. This video has been making the rounds lately:
First, I think that the parents probably coached this girl. Second, she would have been my arch-nemesis in the eighties. Anything associated with being a boy was right up there with The Black Cauldron on my list of childhood horrors.
1. I hated wearing pants.
2. I refused to wear my hair in a ponytail* because I thought that people might see me from the front and get confused.
3. My sister Jr. always had to be the boy when we played. She is not very masculine either, but I had seniority.
4. I liked when the Young Women's activity was makeovers. Women always complain about how the boys got to do these awesome wilderness adventures, but my sister and I even did makeovers during free time at Girl's Camp. Then we took it to a whole new level by constantly turning my little brother Ty into a girl (when my dad wasn't home)-I even lovingly curled his hair.
5. Not only did I play with dolls as a child, but I still buy dolls from foreign countries. They are widely reviled. In our house, the Barbies always starred in epic dramas like The Ten Commandments.
6. My dad futilely tried to make us jocks by signing us up for every sport possible, but we always pretended to be sick to get out of it.
Everyone is saying "you go girl" to this video, but I don't think that gender is foisted upon us through a conspiracy by Hasbro or the media. Nobody is going to stop a parent from buying a superhero for a girl or a doll for a boy. They advertise like that because it works.
* This began when my pediatrician said, "I know that your sister is a girl, we are going to have to check with you." I was in first grade and my hair was so long that I could sit on it. Thanks, Dr. Sheade, I still don't really wear ponytails.
First, I think that the parents probably coached this girl. Second, she would have been my arch-nemesis in the eighties. Anything associated with being a boy was right up there with The Black Cauldron on my list of childhood horrors.
1. I hated wearing pants.
2. I refused to wear my hair in a ponytail* because I thought that people might see me from the front and get confused.
3. My sister Jr. always had to be the boy when we played. She is not very masculine either, but I had seniority.
4. I liked when the Young Women's activity was makeovers. Women always complain about how the boys got to do these awesome wilderness adventures, but my sister and I even did makeovers during free time at Girl's Camp. Then we took it to a whole new level by constantly turning my little brother Ty into a girl (when my dad wasn't home)-I even lovingly curled his hair.
5. Not only did I play with dolls as a child, but I still buy dolls from foreign countries. They are widely reviled. In our house, the Barbies always starred in epic dramas like The Ten Commandments.
6. My dad futilely tried to make us jocks by signing us up for every sport possible, but we always pretended to be sick to get out of it.
Everyone is saying "you go girl" to this video, but I don't think that gender is foisted upon us through a conspiracy by Hasbro or the media. Nobody is going to stop a parent from buying a superhero for a girl or a doll for a boy. They advertise like that because it works.
* This began when my pediatrician said, "I know that your sister is a girl, we are going to have to check with you." I was in first grade and my hair was so long that I could sit on it. Thanks, Dr. Sheade, I still don't really wear ponytails.
Thursday, December 29, 2011
Wasting Your Life Away Watching Boring People Fall in Love
One of my friends decided that the easiest way to get published was to write a chick lit book, so she read "Something Borrowed" as inspiration. Ladies, really? I feel the same way about romantic comedies. I watched 27 Dresses with my sister-in-law today and I found myself jealous of her limited English comprehension. I was going to make a New Year's resolution to stop watching movies in which you are faced to accept that life is an endless exercise in futility (as demonstrated by civil war, abandonment and the destruction of everything you hold dear), but the experience helped me to realize that I was actually on the right track all along.
Things I Hate About Chick Flicks
1. Girls Suddenly Get Hot By Putting in Contacts or Brushing Their Hair I would rather wear headgear than put in contacts, but I continue using them. I suspect that I watched too many questionable movies as a teen.
2. One night stands turn into true love- I'm not going to pretend that this never happens (and some success stories read this blog), but I think that it is rare. I think that there are a lot of men who will booty call girls that they would never have a relationship with and that causes all sorts of problems. The only girl I have ever met who didn't get emotionally involved after getting physical was a self-diagnosed nympho.
3. Comic Relief by the Annoying, Wisecracking Sidekick Who is Obese or Looks Like Kathy Griffin
4. They Make Women My Age or Older Get Crushes on Guys Born in 1992 (That's you, Team Jacob PTA Moms)
5. After a Night of Drunken Karaoke, You Realize That the Creepy Guy From Your Department is Your Soul Mate
6. Anything In Which the Heroine Runs Away From Her Problems to Exotic Lands Between us, as a nomad, I am going to have to tell you that your problems follow you, unless you figure out how to identify and to break your self-destructive patterns. Eat, Pray, Love is bad for society.
7. Declaring Love On a Megaphone, Microphone or With the School Band- I'm sorry, but if you decided to declare your love to someone you were not dating, would you really do it in a football stadium? My sister and I have both received declarations of love via text message, which is cowardly, but prudent. In my case, he was in the same room.
8. An Entry Level Administrative Assistant Can Afford a Two Bedroom on the Upper West Side
9. Running To the Airport and Stopping a Plane-I'm sure that most of you have been fondled in a post-9/11 airport, so I don't feel the need to elaborate.
10. They Make You Stupider*- I'm not saying that all of your time should be devoted to watching Ted Talks on youtube, but at least find something to do that will not irreparably destroy your understanding of relationships and society.
* Yeah, I know. Not changing that.
Things I Hate About Chick Flicks
1. Girls Suddenly Get Hot By Putting in Contacts or Brushing Their Hair I would rather wear headgear than put in contacts, but I continue using them. I suspect that I watched too many questionable movies as a teen.
2. One night stands turn into true love- I'm not going to pretend that this never happens (and some success stories read this blog), but I think that it is rare. I think that there are a lot of men who will booty call girls that they would never have a relationship with and that causes all sorts of problems. The only girl I have ever met who didn't get emotionally involved after getting physical was a self-diagnosed nympho.
3. Comic Relief by the Annoying, Wisecracking Sidekick Who is Obese or Looks Like Kathy Griffin
4. They Make Women My Age or Older Get Crushes on Guys Born in 1992 (That's you, Team Jacob PTA Moms)
5. After a Night of Drunken Karaoke, You Realize That the Creepy Guy From Your Department is Your Soul Mate
6. Anything In Which the Heroine Runs Away From Her Problems to Exotic Lands Between us, as a nomad, I am going to have to tell you that your problems follow you, unless you figure out how to identify and to break your self-destructive patterns. Eat, Pray, Love is bad for society.
7. Declaring Love On a Megaphone, Microphone or With the School Band- I'm sorry, but if you decided to declare your love to someone you were not dating, would you really do it in a football stadium? My sister and I have both received declarations of love via text message, which is cowardly, but prudent. In my case, he was in the same room.
8. An Entry Level Administrative Assistant Can Afford a Two Bedroom on the Upper West Side
9. Running To the Airport and Stopping a Plane-I'm sure that most of you have been fondled in a post-9/11 airport, so I don't feel the need to elaborate.
10. They Make You Stupider*- I'm not saying that all of your time should be devoted to watching Ted Talks on youtube, but at least find something to do that will not irreparably destroy your understanding of relationships and society.
* Yeah, I know. Not changing that.
Monday, December 26, 2011
In Which Miss Jill Would Survive an INS Crackdown
I have been hearing for years that the US citizenship test prohibitively difficult, so as the child of an immigrant, I wanted to try my hand:
US Citizenship Test
Ok, the only way that this test is difficult is if you don't know English. You only have to figure out 60% of the questions to pass-I think I could do that in any romance language. Maybe I'm being snobby, but "What ocean is on the east coast?" Come on.
US Citizenship Test
Ok, the only way that this test is difficult is if you don't know English. You only have to figure out 60% of the questions to pass-I think I could do that in any romance language. Maybe I'm being snobby, but "What ocean is on the east coast?" Come on.
Sunday, December 25, 2011
Thursday, December 22, 2011
In Which I Share More With Hobbits Than Body Type
This is unrelated, but once I made fun of someone on Facebook and my brothers did a print screen and put it in a place where my parents would see it.
On my friend's birthday, all of the party guests dressed up as her. She described the experience as a "wake-up call." I had a similar experience when I took this stress test. I got a 384 for this year with the prognosis: "You have a high or very high risk of becoming ill in the near future." I think that the result would be equal or higher for every year after I turned twenty-five and it doesn't even account for scenarios like working for Neo-Ottomans or finding out that your neighbor got stabbed outside of your building. I don't even write about most of the weird things that happen, unfortunately.
When I moved, a lot of people warned me that New York to DC was a really hard move, but I felt that I was supposed to, so I did it anyway. It is a million times less exciting and a lot of people are the same genre of boring mixed with delusions of grandeur. At church the other day I thought that it would be hard to pick any of the people out in a police lineup, because they were all kind of the same. But I'm starting to think that maybe the boringness is what I need right now.
This morning on the way to work, I randomly started thinking about how after the War of the Rings, Frodo is spent and done with adventures. Maybe I got all the weird stuff out of my system and it is better to be boring for a while. Maybe 2012 is the year of no jarring life experiences. Did anyone else feel like that when they hit 30?
On my friend's birthday, all of the party guests dressed up as her. She described the experience as a "wake-up call." I had a similar experience when I took this stress test. I got a 384 for this year with the prognosis: "You have a high or very high risk of becoming ill in the near future." I think that the result would be equal or higher for every year after I turned twenty-five and it doesn't even account for scenarios like working for Neo-Ottomans or finding out that your neighbor got stabbed outside of your building. I don't even write about most of the weird things that happen, unfortunately.
When I moved, a lot of people warned me that New York to DC was a really hard move, but I felt that I was supposed to, so I did it anyway. It is a million times less exciting and a lot of people are the same genre of boring mixed with delusions of grandeur. At church the other day I thought that it would be hard to pick any of the people out in a police lineup, because they were all kind of the same. But I'm starting to think that maybe the boringness is what I need right now.
This morning on the way to work, I randomly started thinking about how after the War of the Rings, Frodo is spent and done with adventures. Maybe I got all the weird stuff out of my system and it is better to be boring for a while. Maybe 2012 is the year of no jarring life experiences. Did anyone else feel like that when they hit 30?
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
Things I Would Never Buy Even If I Were a Billionaire
1. An expensive phone. Whenever I want a cheap laugh from my students, I pull out my $20 phone. I can leave that thing anywhere in the school and I know that no one would steal it. I could leave it in the rec room of juvie and no one would touch it. That is a priceless quality for a space cadet like me. Whenever I see someone middle class with a RAZR flip phone, I immediately think that they are cool. I would still have one if I hadn't given it to the Chinese laundry by mistake.
2. A performance from a famous musician at my child's sweet sixteen party. I would be really sad if my child wanted that, because then I would know that my value system had not been properly passed on. I hate groupies and I hate sycophants and I agree with Dante about their deserved fate:
I respect people's accomplishments, but I can't imagine acting servile or thinking that people were superior.
3. An expensive car. A Corolla will get you the same place as a BMW.
4. Clothes with expensive brand names displayed. VULGAR.
5. Implants. See above reason.
6. A star named for my cherished loved one.
7. First-class plane tickets. For various reasons, I have been seated in first-class lots of times and all it seems to do is get you in awkward convos with men your father's age in business casual attire.
What I Would Buy
1. Amtrak tickets. I only do this if I have time constraints, but it is SO MUCH BETTER THAN THE DC BUS.
2. Hair extensions. I would put so much fake hair up there that people would think that I were the blonde Kim Kardashian (if the only part of my body they could see were my head).
3. A school.
4. Cancer researchers, so that there would not be special interest involvement. There has to be a better way than the nightmare of chemo.
2. A performance from a famous musician at my child's sweet sixteen party. I would be really sad if my child wanted that, because then I would know that my value system had not been properly passed on. I hate groupies and I hate sycophants and I agree with Dante about their deserved fate:
I respect people's accomplishments, but I can't imagine acting servile or thinking that people were superior.
3. An expensive car. A Corolla will get you the same place as a BMW.
4. Clothes with expensive brand names displayed. VULGAR.
5. Implants. See above reason.
6. A star named for my cherished loved one.
7. First-class plane tickets. For various reasons, I have been seated in first-class lots of times and all it seems to do is get you in awkward convos with men your father's age in business casual attire.
What I Would Buy
1. Amtrak tickets. I only do this if I have time constraints, but it is SO MUCH BETTER THAN THE DC BUS.
2. Hair extensions. I would put so much fake hair up there that people would think that I were the blonde Kim Kardashian (if the only part of my body they could see were my head).
3. A school.
4. Cancer researchers, so that there would not be special interest involvement. There has to be a better way than the nightmare of chemo.
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
Monday, December 19, 2011
Especially For Mormons: How To Make Friends and Not Alienate People
Once in Honduras, someone randomly pointed to me and said, "Esa muchacha es muy directa (that girl is really blunt)." That is actually only partially true-I am really only frank with people I care about, otherwise it isn't really worth it to me. So rest assured that if I sent you a curt text about your lack of reliability, it could easily be interpreted as, "I'm glad that we are friends." That being said, I cannot be relied upon to tell you that you look ugly or that your cooking sucks.
As I also care deeply about Miss Jill, I have been known to tough love myself. For example, I recently gently told myself that if you want to have a cooking hobby, you also need to have an exercise hobby. This resulted in buying a mini-elliptical machine that I can't figure out how to put together.
In that light, as many of us know, Mormons consistently suffer from PR problems. Although, it is fine to hope that people will not be offended, I think that the onus is on us to figure out what we can improve on our end to be less offensive. I myself was very annoying and sanctimonious after I graduated from college and moved to Honduras. I wish that I could time travel back to 2005 and b slap that girl. I would like to help others avoid falling into that trap.
In order to avoid alienating people....
Disclaimer-I don't think that most Mormons do most of this stuff, but the fact that anyone does is scary.
1. The day after your coworker's kid got busted for shoplifting at the mall, don't brag about little Ammon's Court of Honor (based on real life events).
2. Most people think that overly perky people are annoying. I am a morning person, so I sometimes have to fight this. Don't have a creepy permasmile and a glazed expression.
3. Stop getting haircuts that no one else in America has. People with slicked missionary 'dos or short, chunky layers with skunk highlights-I'm looking at you.
4. The Starbucks employee does not need to hear that drinking coffee is against your religion (based on real life events).
5. Unless you are their teacher, please avoid telling people not to swear unless they are dropping 25 f bombs a minute. Get over it. Once they get to know you, they will probably stop.
6. Don't try to be hip. There is a 99.5 percent chance that you are not. People like you more if you make fun of your own unhipness, trust me.
7. Don't sneak into the art classroom and put construction paper clothes on all of the nude prints (based on real life events).
8. Don't elongate the skirt on the stick figure on the women's restroom sign (based on real life events recounted by the person who did this).
9. Don't freak out about Coke products. I don't like soda very much, but I drank some Pepsi once just because a girl was loudly proclaiming to nonmembers that it was a sin.
10. Don't sever relations with friends and family members who leave the church and don't make people your projects.
11. Don't refuse to check someone out at the grocery store (as the cashier) just because they are buying a beer (based on real life events).
12. Don't yell at the other team's cheerleaders for being immodest (based on real life events).
13. Don't constantly spam Facebook with Conference talks and the caption "Love it!" or "So true!"
14. Don't view someone offering you a drink as a challenge to your moral code, when really they are just being polite.
I'm sure there are more, so maybe there will be part 2.
As I also care deeply about Miss Jill, I have been known to tough love myself. For example, I recently gently told myself that if you want to have a cooking hobby, you also need to have an exercise hobby. This resulted in buying a mini-elliptical machine that I can't figure out how to put together.
In that light, as many of us know, Mormons consistently suffer from PR problems. Although, it is fine to hope that people will not be offended, I think that the onus is on us to figure out what we can improve on our end to be less offensive. I myself was very annoying and sanctimonious after I graduated from college and moved to Honduras. I wish that I could time travel back to 2005 and b slap that girl. I would like to help others avoid falling into that trap.
In order to avoid alienating people....
Disclaimer-I don't think that most Mormons do most of this stuff, but the fact that anyone does is scary.
1. The day after your coworker's kid got busted for shoplifting at the mall, don't brag about little Ammon's Court of Honor (based on real life events).
2. Most people think that overly perky people are annoying. I am a morning person, so I sometimes have to fight this. Don't have a creepy permasmile and a glazed expression.
3. Stop getting haircuts that no one else in America has. People with slicked missionary 'dos or short, chunky layers with skunk highlights-I'm looking at you.
4. The Starbucks employee does not need to hear that drinking coffee is against your religion (based on real life events).
5. Unless you are their teacher, please avoid telling people not to swear unless they are dropping 25 f bombs a minute. Get over it. Once they get to know you, they will probably stop.
6. Don't try to be hip. There is a 99.5 percent chance that you are not. People like you more if you make fun of your own unhipness, trust me.
7. Don't sneak into the art classroom and put construction paper clothes on all of the nude prints (based on real life events).
8. Don't elongate the skirt on the stick figure on the women's restroom sign (based on real life events recounted by the person who did this).
9. Don't freak out about Coke products. I don't like soda very much, but I drank some Pepsi once just because a girl was loudly proclaiming to nonmembers that it was a sin.
10. Don't sever relations with friends and family members who leave the church and don't make people your projects.
11. Don't refuse to check someone out at the grocery store (as the cashier) just because they are buying a beer (based on real life events).
12. Don't yell at the other team's cheerleaders for being immodest (based on real life events).
13. Don't constantly spam Facebook with Conference talks and the caption "Love it!" or "So true!"
14. Don't view someone offering you a drink as a challenge to your moral code, when really they are just being polite.
I'm sure there are more, so maybe there will be part 2.
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
In Defense of Teaching
I already posted today, but I'm proctoring a makeup exam for my coworker, so here is another one. I have all the time in the world, because I don't leave until tomorrow night and my entire family is getting gift cards.
Does anyone ever wonder if they had the potential to be really good at something, but never had an opportunity to try it? I always wonder that about elementary school teaching. When I was at BYU, people always rolled their eyes at el ed majors, because it was seen by a lot of people as an M.R.S. degree for dumb girls (and I wonder if this is just a Mormon thing). It wasn't as bad as majoring in Marriage, Family, Human Development, but it was almost tantamount to giving the feminist movement a swirly. It never even occurred to me to major in it-then I ended up teaching sixth graders in Honduras and at the Turkish school and I LOVED it. They are so cute and you can do creative projects without having to worry about anyone thinking it is uncool and giving you attitude. I like teaching high school, but I wonder all the time if I missed my vocation.
One of my good friends did Teach for America in New York and moved here when I did. She is an elementary school teacher and she was talking about the condescending things that people say to her when they find out that she is a teacher. She is very smart and could have done anything that she wanted, so it irks her. In her honor...
Why I Like Being a Teacher
1. Constant stream of weird/funny stories, although I generally don't feel comfortable putting them online.
2. In stark contrast to when I worked for personal injury lawyers, I never have to wonder if I am making the world better or worse. Being nice to teens has to positively impact the world somehow.
3. My capacity to love has grown so much. If you can love an obnoxious kid who yells "Shut up, lady" while you are dutifully trying to teach Utah Studies, you can love anyone.
4. I have a gang sign associated with my name.
5. I have never met anyone who could find jobs as quickly as I can, regardless of the economy and location. Sometimes it happens a little too quickly, just as I am starting to enjoy the company of showbiz folk.
6. I am an expert on ineffective parenting, because I have seen so many examples of the result.
7. I have a collection of evil eye jewelry.
8. I have had some very intense intercultural experiences that I don't think would be possible any other way. Although I am interested in cultures, I was never very interested in Turkey and now I am an expert.
9. It is hard to micromanage teachers and no one cares if a staple is in the correct place.
10. Twenty years from now, some kid in Honduras or DC or Turkey or Uzbekistan or New York will say, "Remember when that crazy blonde lady....."
So let's have a truce. If you don't automatically think that I was a mediocre student because I'm a teacher, I won't snap judge you as boring because you are a bureaucrat or a finance person.
Does anyone ever wonder if they had the potential to be really good at something, but never had an opportunity to try it? I always wonder that about elementary school teaching. When I was at BYU, people always rolled their eyes at el ed majors, because it was seen by a lot of people as an M.R.S. degree for dumb girls (and I wonder if this is just a Mormon thing). It wasn't as bad as majoring in Marriage, Family, Human Development, but it was almost tantamount to giving the feminist movement a swirly. It never even occurred to me to major in it-then I ended up teaching sixth graders in Honduras and at the Turkish school and I LOVED it. They are so cute and you can do creative projects without having to worry about anyone thinking it is uncool and giving you attitude. I like teaching high school, but I wonder all the time if I missed my vocation.
One of my good friends did Teach for America in New York and moved here when I did. She is an elementary school teacher and she was talking about the condescending things that people say to her when they find out that she is a teacher. She is very smart and could have done anything that she wanted, so it irks her. In her honor...
Why I Like Being a Teacher
1. Constant stream of weird/funny stories, although I generally don't feel comfortable putting them online.
2. In stark contrast to when I worked for personal injury lawyers, I never have to wonder if I am making the world better or worse. Being nice to teens has to positively impact the world somehow.
3. My capacity to love has grown so much. If you can love an obnoxious kid who yells "Shut up, lady" while you are dutifully trying to teach Utah Studies, you can love anyone.
4. I have a gang sign associated with my name.
5. I have never met anyone who could find jobs as quickly as I can, regardless of the economy and location. Sometimes it happens a little too quickly, just as I am starting to enjoy the company of showbiz folk.
6. I am an expert on ineffective parenting, because I have seen so many examples of the result.
7. I have a collection of evil eye jewelry.
8. I have had some very intense intercultural experiences that I don't think would be possible any other way. Although I am interested in cultures, I was never very interested in Turkey and now I am an expert.
9. It is hard to micromanage teachers and no one cares if a staple is in the correct place.
10. Twenty years from now, some kid in Honduras or DC or Turkey or Uzbekistan or New York will say, "Remember when that crazy blonde lady....."
So let's have a truce. If you don't automatically think that I was a mediocre student because I'm a teacher, I won't snap judge you as boring because you are a bureaucrat or a finance person.
Monday, December 12, 2011
CNN Tribute to My Former Home
It is hard to read, but it says:
Q: Which country has the worlds [sic] highest murder rate, at 82 per 100,000 people a year?
You answered correctly: Honduras
If I ever have a child who turns out like Jill: July 2005-August 2011, I think that I will develop an anxiety disorder.
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
Monday, December 5, 2011
Exploring The Seedy Underbelly of DC Nightlife
A few years ago for my birthday, my friend bought me a ticket to the musical Fela. Per Wikipedia: "Fela Anikulapo Kuti (15 October 1938 — 2 August 1997), or simply Fela, was a Nigerian multi-instrumentalist musician and composer, pioneer of Afrobeat music, human rights activist, and political maverick."
In New York, most amateur cultural events take place in the basement or some kind of annex to a bar. Seriously everything-from poetry readings about the Iranian Green movement to improv shows to an accordion band performance to New Age Shakespeare adaptations- takes place in some sort of bar, because people can afford to rent the space. For a teetotaler, I have been to lots of bars. Sorry Mom, but there is alcohol served at TGIFriday's, so I don't see how this is any worse.
Most of the people I know here are pretty conservative, so I didn't realize until this weekend that the same thing happens here. My friend has a coworker who plays the drums in an Afrobeat group, so we went to his performance on Saturday. It was in the basement of a vegan friendly bar.
Some highlights
* For an Afrobeat band, I was surprised that its membership skewed very white and very middle aged. They were good, although I might not be the most knowledgeable critic of that genre.
* I was happy to still get carded, but sad the next day when it was Sunday and I was still wearing a wristband that said "Tequila!" and the scissors were in the kitchen with the mouse.
* The featured co-worker was sporting a ZZ top beard and pirate jacket (which I wasn't into due to the PTSD I have developed from my GPS being stuck in pirate mode)
* A group of fourth graders head banged with a white Rasta guy in the front row. I will file that for my list of "Things My Ten-Year-Old Will Never Do, Because She Will Not Have A Cool Mom."
* They were also joined by a man in his sixties wearing a wig and a cheerleading uniform, complete with pom pons.
* About a fourth of the patrons belonged to some sort of middle-aged lesbian social group, so I felt like I was surrounded by Bieber and Velma from Scooby Doo, dancing giddily under the influence.
It is funny, because when I was in my twenties, I had panic attacks whenever I thought about a life in which the ward Halloween party would be the most exciting part of my week. Now, I'm scared of becoming a forty-year-old at a bar show on a Saturday night. What is happening to me?
In New York, most amateur cultural events take place in the basement or some kind of annex to a bar. Seriously everything-from poetry readings about the Iranian Green movement to improv shows to an accordion band performance to New Age Shakespeare adaptations- takes place in some sort of bar, because people can afford to rent the space. For a teetotaler, I have been to lots of bars. Sorry Mom, but there is alcohol served at TGIFriday's, so I don't see how this is any worse.
Most of the people I know here are pretty conservative, so I didn't realize until this weekend that the same thing happens here. My friend has a coworker who plays the drums in an Afrobeat group, so we went to his performance on Saturday. It was in the basement of a vegan friendly bar.
Some highlights
* For an Afrobeat band, I was surprised that its membership skewed very white and very middle aged. They were good, although I might not be the most knowledgeable critic of that genre.
* I was happy to still get carded, but sad the next day when it was Sunday and I was still wearing a wristband that said "Tequila!" and the scissors were in the kitchen with the mouse.
* The featured co-worker was sporting a ZZ top beard and pirate jacket (which I wasn't into due to the PTSD I have developed from my GPS being stuck in pirate mode)
* A group of fourth graders head banged with a white Rasta guy in the front row. I will file that for my list of "Things My Ten-Year-Old Will Never Do, Because She Will Not Have A Cool Mom."
* They were also joined by a man in his sixties wearing a wig and a cheerleading uniform, complete with pom pons.
* About a fourth of the patrons belonged to some sort of middle-aged lesbian social group, so I felt like I was surrounded by Bieber and Velma from Scooby Doo, dancing giddily under the influence.
It is funny, because when I was in my twenties, I had panic attacks whenever I thought about a life in which the ward Halloween party would be the most exciting part of my week. Now, I'm scared of becoming a forty-year-old at a bar show on a Saturday night. What is happening to me?
Sunday, December 4, 2011
Fast Sunday, Within the Parameters of Satan's Plan
I'm generally pretty good at fasting and I actually feel very strongly that it works, from a religious perspective. However, this morning I woke up feeling really nauseated, in a feminine kind of way. I decided to go the Muslim route and to fast another day. I went to the kitchen to get some crackers and in the middle of the floor, a small mouse lay in state with his eyes open. After moving from New York, I honestly thought that those days were over.
As I fled the scene without taking any measures to deal with the issue, my first thought was that my roommate had bought a fake mouse to scare me. There really wasn't a valid reason for a mouse to 1. Be in our kitchen 2. Drop dead. Once Baby Troy left a lizard toy in the front lawn of my parent's house and through some strange twists of fate, I ended up believing that it was real and extremely dangerous. The incident damaged my reputation, so I wasn't about to get duped twice.
My roommate disposed of it while I watched Everybody Hates Chris on a bootleg website. The good thing about going like ten years without having a t.v. is that there are constantly new treasures to be discovered. I would like to publicly thank her for that, although I deem my gratitude null and void if she planted the mouse.
So if you heard my stomach pharisaically rumbling during church, know that it was only doing so under extreme duress.
As I fled the scene without taking any measures to deal with the issue, my first thought was that my roommate had bought a fake mouse to scare me. There really wasn't a valid reason for a mouse to 1. Be in our kitchen 2. Drop dead. Once Baby Troy left a lizard toy in the front lawn of my parent's house and through some strange twists of fate, I ended up believing that it was real and extremely dangerous. The incident damaged my reputation, so I wasn't about to get duped twice.
My roommate disposed of it while I watched Everybody Hates Chris on a bootleg website. The good thing about going like ten years without having a t.v. is that there are constantly new treasures to be discovered. I would like to publicly thank her for that, although I deem my gratitude null and void if she planted the mouse.
So if you heard my stomach pharisaically rumbling during church, know that it was only doing so under extreme duress.
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
In Which Homework Falls From The Heavens Like Manna (Instead of free food)
It is an achievement to receive a failing grade when I am your teacher. You really have to set a goal, pursue it without wavering and tune out the annoying midwestern accent that constantly tells you what assignments you are missing. A few kids didn't do my semester project and I remind them about it every single time that I see them. Most of them gave up and did it, but there are a few stalwart homework avoiders who refuse to buckle. Let's call one of them "Dave." Dave asked me if I would just give him a 20 percent for not doing it and was surprised when I said no.
Dave ran into my classroom the other day and exclaimed with glee, "Good news! I have a project."
I raised my eyebrow at him. "How?"
"I found an unclaimed one and put my name on it. Can I have an "A" now?"
"Please elaborate on 'an unclaimed one?' "
"My other teacher showed us the projects for her class that didn't have names. I saw that one was about Cesar Chavez, so I took it."
"How can I give you credit for a project that you did not do?"
"It's mine. I claimed it. My name on it."
Another student who was eavesdropping said, "Yeah, it his. God wanted him to have that project or he would not have found it. You can't refuse God."
"This conversation is endangering my mental health."
******************************************************************************************************************************
Me: Can you please stop texting ladies from under your desk?
Student: That is the incorrect word. It is not ladies, it is shawtys*
Me: Does it really sound natural if I say, Stop texting shawtys? How do you spell that? (I really want an audio clip for this one)
Student: S-h-a-w-t-y-s, but the academic spelling is s-h-a-w-t-i-e-s
Definition from urbandictionary: Fine a** woman, or your girl.
Dave ran into my classroom the other day and exclaimed with glee, "Good news! I have a project."
I raised my eyebrow at him. "How?"
"I found an unclaimed one and put my name on it. Can I have an "A" now?"
"Please elaborate on 'an unclaimed one?' "
"My other teacher showed us the projects for her class that didn't have names. I saw that one was about Cesar Chavez, so I took it."
"How can I give you credit for a project that you did not do?"
"It's mine. I claimed it. My name on it."
Another student who was eavesdropping said, "Yeah, it his. God wanted him to have that project or he would not have found it. You can't refuse God."
"This conversation is endangering my mental health."
******************************************************************************************************************************
Me: Can you please stop texting ladies from under your desk?
Student: That is the incorrect word. It is not ladies, it is shawtys*
Me: Does it really sound natural if I say, Stop texting shawtys? How do you spell that? (I really want an audio clip for this one)
Student: S-h-a-w-t-y-s, but the academic spelling is s-h-a-w-t-i-e-s
Definition from urbandictionary: Fine a** woman, or your girl.
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Cherishing the Legacy of Selena, Sixteen Years Too Late
Sorry if you are on my g-chat contact list-this will be a repeat.
Watching movies with my class reminds me of the time that I saw Harry Potter 6 at the Magic Johnson theaters in Harlem. There is a lot of high volume emoting going on. We watched Selena in class the day before Thanksgiving break.
Selena and father engage in an emotional fight about her love affair with rocker Chris.
Student stands up and screams: Ima cut that old fool!
The class went crazy and just as I was about to scold them, a student contentedly smiled and observed, "This Spanish class is like a family!" Not wanting to be a crotchety old matriarch, I held my tongue.
The next day when Selena and her father had a tear-filled reconciliation, I asked, "Are you still wanting to cut that old fool?*" The student replied, "No, he tight now."
The next day when Selena met her untimely demise at the hands of her fan club president, Yolanda, a girl yelled, "Miss! Don't do us like that!"
I replied, "I'm sorry, but I was not responsible for the unfortunate death of Selena." She implored, "Look at this face! Look at this face!" I turned on the light so that I could look at her face. Tears were streaming. She looked so shaken that I was unsure if she could function for the rest of the day. Then I looked in the back row and saw a massive football player, staring forward, bravely blinking away tears.
The culprit:
* I wish that I could put audio of myself using slang. It sounds so unnatural that it is really funny.
Watching movies with my class reminds me of the time that I saw Harry Potter 6 at the Magic Johnson theaters in Harlem. There is a lot of high volume emoting going on. We watched Selena in class the day before Thanksgiving break.
Selena and father engage in an emotional fight about her love affair with rocker Chris.
Student stands up and screams: Ima cut that old fool!
The class went crazy and just as I was about to scold them, a student contentedly smiled and observed, "This Spanish class is like a family!" Not wanting to be a crotchety old matriarch, I held my tongue.
The next day when Selena and her father had a tear-filled reconciliation, I asked, "Are you still wanting to cut that old fool?*" The student replied, "No, he tight now."
The next day when Selena met her untimely demise at the hands of her fan club president, Yolanda, a girl yelled, "Miss! Don't do us like that!"
I replied, "I'm sorry, but I was not responsible for the unfortunate death of Selena." She implored, "Look at this face! Look at this face!" I turned on the light so that I could look at her face. Tears were streaming. She looked so shaken that I was unsure if she could function for the rest of the day. Then I looked in the back row and saw a massive football player, staring forward, bravely blinking away tears.
The culprit:
* I wish that I could put audio of myself using slang. It sounds so unnatural that it is really funny.
Monday, November 28, 2011
Things That I Love On Blogs
Overshares/TMI: If you are the relative who wrote about locking your kids in the playroom in order to have trysts with your husband-props.
Really unintelligent arguments for ideas that I disagree with: Example-An emotional treatise on why people should only watch G-rated movies would be my ideal reading material.
Blogs By People In Other Hardcore Religions: I read blogs by Orthodox Jews, polygamist Muslims, Quiverfulls (people who believe in having a million children like the Duggars) and more than I am willing to admit. I decided yesterday that I need to do something about my internet research addiction.
Challenges With Mental Illness: My only personal experience with mental illness was a couple of weeks ago when I was too sad to get out of bed. It kind of scared me. Then I realized that the source of my malady was that I watched too many episodes of Mad Men in a row, as my sister had warned me against.
The older I get, the luckier I feel that I don't have any chemical imbalances or baggage or issues from childhood. It seems kind of rare. However, I am really interested in the treatment/healing process for some reason. Maybe I should have been a counselor. I think that it is great that people feel comfortable talking about their challenges, because it could be really helpful to others.
Pictures of Mormon formal wear: I especially like when they say stuff like, "It is so hard to be modest in this evil world.* Luckily, I found the cutest prom dress of all time, lol."
Said dress:
Personal vendettas: I am usually pretty careful not to air grievances on my blog, although it might make it more interesting. Luckily, not everyone shares my views on discretion.
Funny Stories-- VERY RARE
Expatriate/travel stories: Thanks Julianne and Bridget of Arabia. It isn't that season of my life right now, so it is fun for me to hear about other people's adventures.
Adults Who Make Costumes for Movie Premiers
Pictures of kids- Sorry, I am lame. I am a teacher for a reason.
Anything Involving D & D- I would actually like to watch this at some point.
Stuff That I Can Make Fun Of
* I have said this before, but I totally disagree with that statement. What is so hard about layering? Most Mormon girls I know have PLENTY of clothes.
A Few Other Things That I Hate
Retread feminist arguments- I don't necessarily disagree with all of them, but think of something original to talk about, people.
Anti-Mormons Who Keep Saying "Drink the Kool-Aid" Like It Is The Cleverest Thing On Earth: My parents weren't even married when Jonestown happened.
Really unintelligent arguments for ideas that I disagree with: Example-An emotional treatise on why people should only watch G-rated movies would be my ideal reading material.
Blogs By People In Other Hardcore Religions: I read blogs by Orthodox Jews, polygamist Muslims, Quiverfulls (people who believe in having a million children like the Duggars) and more than I am willing to admit. I decided yesterday that I need to do something about my internet research addiction.
Challenges With Mental Illness: My only personal experience with mental illness was a couple of weeks ago when I was too sad to get out of bed. It kind of scared me. Then I realized that the source of my malady was that I watched too many episodes of Mad Men in a row, as my sister had warned me against.
The older I get, the luckier I feel that I don't have any chemical imbalances or baggage or issues from childhood. It seems kind of rare. However, I am really interested in the treatment/healing process for some reason. Maybe I should have been a counselor. I think that it is great that people feel comfortable talking about their challenges, because it could be really helpful to others.
Pictures of Mormon formal wear: I especially like when they say stuff like, "It is so hard to be modest in this evil world.* Luckily, I found the cutest prom dress of all time, lol."
Said dress:
Personal vendettas: I am usually pretty careful not to air grievances on my blog, although it might make it more interesting. Luckily, not everyone shares my views on discretion.
Funny Stories-- VERY RARE
Expatriate/travel stories: Thanks Julianne and Bridget of Arabia. It isn't that season of my life right now, so it is fun for me to hear about other people's adventures.
Adults Who Make Costumes for Movie Premiers
Pictures of kids- Sorry, I am lame. I am a teacher for a reason.
Anything Involving D & D- I would actually like to watch this at some point.
Stuff That I Can Make Fun Of
* I have said this before, but I totally disagree with that statement. What is so hard about layering? Most Mormon girls I know have PLENTY of clothes.
A Few Other Things That I Hate
Retread feminist arguments- I don't necessarily disagree with all of them, but think of something original to talk about, people.
Anti-Mormons Who Keep Saying "Drink the Kool-Aid" Like It Is The Cleverest Thing On Earth: My parents weren't even married when Jonestown happened.
Friday, November 25, 2011
Taxonomy of High School Teachers
Ugh, why do I find it impossible to sleep past six? I have some Thanksgiving guests from New York and it will probably be a few hours before anyone is awake. I think that I have some secret gland that secretes coffee/speed and makes me hyper starting at 5:30 a.m. I can seriously get ten errands done before 9:00 a.m.
I have been wanting to classify high school teachers for a while, so here goes.
Teacher Archetypes
Lovable Mr. Wizard who blows stuff up and launches it into space- I hate Science and Math, but Chemistry was one of my favorite classes in high school, because my teacher was hilarious. On my 16th birthday, she pretended to get angry with me and wrote me a referral to the Dean's office. I was a huge suck up, so I was devastated. She let me walk pretty far down the hall, tears streaming down my face, when she started running after me, yelling that it was all a prank. I would totally do something like that now.
Music Teacher Who Has Nuclear Meltdowns Whenever a Performance Date Looms
The constant complainer- Everyone hates the Pollyanna coworker who praises the boss and follows the company line; a certain amount of complaining helps everyone to bond. But someone always takes it a step too far. My coworker who yelled, "Eat s@#$ and die" comes to mind.
Pedagogical Pol Pot- This individual takes pleasure from rigidly enforcing arbitrary rules in order to wield power.
The Young Hottie
The Middle Aged Prom Queen- This teacher uses students to supplant adult friendship and cares deeply about his/her popularity with the student body. When you are really young, it is harder to be an authority figure, but by your forties you should have this figured out. I student taught at two different schools and I loved the middle school because the teacher let me do everything by the second week and never came in on Fridays. Some of you readers were students there and now somehow became adults, which makes me feel old.
Then I got transferred to a high school and fell into the clutches of the worst teacher of all time. The first thing she said to me was, "I am not friends with any teachers-my friends are the kids." She fruitlessly spoke through a microphone while all of the students did their own thing. Once I teased a kid (who laughed a lot) and she told me that my joke had hurt her deeply. My BYU professor was chilling in Spain most of the time that I was there, so I got trapped.
Cynical Social Studies Teacher- I don't have an anecdote for this one, but it is common. As a former Utah Studies teacher, I usually think that these people are cool.
Foreign Language Teacher Whose Whole Curriculum is Watching "El Rey Leon" on repeat- My Spanish 2 teacher was this guy and I am proud of myself for getting good grades in Spanish 3 (possibly related to the fact that my dad is from Mexico). I recall that he had a mail order bride. A bunch of kids got angry and plotted to make fake deportation papers and leave them on his desk. It broke my heart to tell them that you can't deport a Puerto Rican. That reminds me that my American friend got deported from Mexico once. I need to get that story.
First-Year Teacher Who Constantly Cries
The Coach Who Teaches For Five Minutes and Then Lets You Talk the Rest of the Period- I have to tread carefully with this one, because my dad was a basketball coach/teacher and I'm sure that he actually taught. However, this is not the case with everyone.
Beatnik English Teacher With a Glazed Expression- This person is just biding time with teens until his poetry anthology is published. Likes to talk about the local scene. Sexually explicit works.
Veteran Teachers Who Don't Take Any Pains to Hide the Fact That They Hate Kids
I have been wanting to classify high school teachers for a while, so here goes.
Teacher Archetypes
Lovable Mr. Wizard who blows stuff up and launches it into space- I hate Science and Math, but Chemistry was one of my favorite classes in high school, because my teacher was hilarious. On my 16th birthday, she pretended to get angry with me and wrote me a referral to the Dean's office. I was a huge suck up, so I was devastated. She let me walk pretty far down the hall, tears streaming down my face, when she started running after me, yelling that it was all a prank. I would totally do something like that now.
Music Teacher Who Has Nuclear Meltdowns Whenever a Performance Date Looms
The constant complainer- Everyone hates the Pollyanna coworker who praises the boss and follows the company line; a certain amount of complaining helps everyone to bond. But someone always takes it a step too far. My coworker who yelled, "Eat s@#$ and die" comes to mind.
Pedagogical Pol Pot- This individual takes pleasure from rigidly enforcing arbitrary rules in order to wield power.
The Young Hottie
The Middle Aged Prom Queen- This teacher uses students to supplant adult friendship and cares deeply about his/her popularity with the student body. When you are really young, it is harder to be an authority figure, but by your forties you should have this figured out. I student taught at two different schools and I loved the middle school because the teacher let me do everything by the second week and never came in on Fridays. Some of you readers were students there and now somehow became adults, which makes me feel old.
Then I got transferred to a high school and fell into the clutches of the worst teacher of all time. The first thing she said to me was, "I am not friends with any teachers-my friends are the kids." She fruitlessly spoke through a microphone while all of the students did their own thing. Once I teased a kid (who laughed a lot) and she told me that my joke had hurt her deeply. My BYU professor was chilling in Spain most of the time that I was there, so I got trapped.
Cynical Social Studies Teacher- I don't have an anecdote for this one, but it is common. As a former Utah Studies teacher, I usually think that these people are cool.
Foreign Language Teacher Whose Whole Curriculum is Watching "El Rey Leon" on repeat- My Spanish 2 teacher was this guy and I am proud of myself for getting good grades in Spanish 3 (possibly related to the fact that my dad is from Mexico). I recall that he had a mail order bride. A bunch of kids got angry and plotted to make fake deportation papers and leave them on his desk. It broke my heart to tell them that you can't deport a Puerto Rican. That reminds me that my American friend got deported from Mexico once. I need to get that story.
First-Year Teacher Who Constantly Cries
The Coach Who Teaches For Five Minutes and Then Lets You Talk the Rest of the Period- I have to tread carefully with this one, because my dad was a basketball coach/teacher and I'm sure that he actually taught. However, this is not the case with everyone.
Beatnik English Teacher With a Glazed Expression- This person is just biding time with teens until his poetry anthology is published. Likes to talk about the local scene. Sexually explicit works.
Veteran Teachers Who Don't Take Any Pains to Hide the Fact That They Hate Kids
Thursday, November 24, 2011
You Tool
As I was walking into my apartment building yesterday, I saw an older lady intently reading something that was lovingly taped to a pole. I asked, "Is that interesting?" She shook her head and said, "Someone's car was stolen." She was very nice, but reading comprehension may not be her strong suit.
Exhibit A:
DEAR THIEF!!!!
Thanks for steeling from my car, nothing better then finding that your space has been violated.
Keep the GPS and sell it if you are so desperate.
BUT I WANT MY I-POD BACK!!! It is sentimental (that means it means something to someone).
WHY would you steal something that is 5 years old anyway???
YOU TOOL
Return the stolen merchandise before the police find you!!!
THERE ARE MANY EYES WATCHING IN THIS NEIGHBORHOOD. YOUR TIME WILL COME.
Leave my I-pod in front of building number 53. THANKS!
PS: Hope the bottle of water you took was refreshing.
Exhibit A:
DEAR THIEF!!!!
Thanks for steeling from my car, nothing better then finding that your space has been violated.
Keep the GPS and sell it if you are so desperate.
BUT I WANT MY I-POD BACK!!! It is sentimental (that means it means something to someone).
WHY would you steal something that is 5 years old anyway???
YOU TOOL
Return the stolen merchandise before the police find you!!!
THERE ARE MANY EYES WATCHING IN THIS NEIGHBORHOOD. YOUR TIME WILL COME.
Leave my I-pod in front of building number 53. THANKS!
PS: Hope the bottle of water you took was refreshing.
Leaked Scientology Rap Video
As we started making fun of this, I quickly realized that it was yet another one of my encounters with hypocrisy. It took me approximately .00005 seconds to find this:
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