Words of wisdom for Mac

Each morning, Mac and I carpool. Usually he drops me off at school. Each morning I get out of the car and bid him a good day.

And apparently I give him some sort of daily advice.

One day 2 weeks ago, I just said, "Bye. Have a good day. love you." And he says, "what, no advice?" He then proceeds to tell he that I always dispense some sort of advice to him each day. And sometimes I repeat myself.

I had no idea I did that each morning but apparently I do, and I've done this for years.

Repeated phrases that are popular are "be nice", "work hard", "learn something", "have fun", "be good", and occasionally, "be thankful it's Friday."

So now for the last couple weeks that I've been very aware of this, I've made sure I say something. Since he's a senior these are going to be the last days I can give him life altering advice before he walks through the hallowed halls of higher education. I mean, now there's pressure. I want to tell him things that he'll take with him into the world, to make him a better adult.

Lately, I've said things like:

• "don't hit people."
• "don't have unprotected sex. Always use condoms."
• "sometimes in life we should drink milk and have cookies for no special reason"
• "share."
• "work hard and don't cheat"
• "play nice"
• "sing loudly and shake your booty"
• "hold hands"
• "show a little respect"
• "nice shoes will make you feel better"
• "don't call girls chicks or broads. Or dames"
  

This morning was a little different. After complaining vehemently that he was.... um, shall we say... unable to poo for a few days, he still went to school. And my parting advice this morning was, "eat more bran."

He flipped me the bird.

Ah yes, I'm teaching him well.

Mac's mom,
Maggie

The Philosophy of Mac

Mac told me that he makes stuff up about being sick to get out of doing things- like go to school or whatever. Like most kids have done.

I told him that it was bad karma to make up things about being sick and he could get sick.

He told me that he's never been sick because of it.

I told him it was all storing up and would hit him later. I told him that all that bad karma would come back and run over his dogma.

He said if that happened, "I'll just buy a new dog."

Scoop-tacular Attitude

Even though I've always had some other full time job- education, social work, non profit- I've usually kept a part time job in food service, often because my full time job paid peanuts and I needed to make ends meet. I've worked in coffee houses, tended bar, and worked in restaurants. But I have to say that working in the ice cream parlor is by far the best food industry job I've had.

Oh the money was so much better in waiting tables and tending bar because of the tips, but with those-- people were crabby or drunk and hard to handle. Folks would be miserable and complain about everything. Even if Martha Stewart herself prepared the food and served it on gold plates, some folks would find something to complain about. Kids would scream- and smear crackers over everything. People would cry in their beers. It was usually pretty miserable, most of the time. The coffee houses were okay, but often people were cranky, waiting for their coffee, not having had their caffeine yet, already frustrated with traffic or upset with having to go to work at all. Tips were sparse. And it wasn't my fault you had to be at work at 8 am and came in at 7:40 am and were pissed that you had to wait in line behind 122 other people who also had to be at work at 8 am!

But working in the ice cream parlor is a different sort of food service. It's... wait for it... HAPPY! People are happy when they come in to get ice cream, generally speaking. Oh there's the occasional person who gets bummed that we don't have their very favourite but are quite content with their second fav. Once or twice someone is shocked at a price, but we have 2 kinds of hard ice cream- regular Atz flavors and then gourmet, and the gourmet costs more. But what floors me, is that these cases are few and far between and people are just generally happy when they come in.

And not only are customers happy and kind, so are my fellow employees! I've worked primarily with the same two women and they are just happy workers who love their jobs. Other employees have come in as customers, or I've worked with them briefly as the shift changes, and they too have been happy. And they were teenagers. They said they like coming to work there, they like their jobs! Happy teenagers?!? Wow- what a phenomenon.

I also love the fact that most people usually don't stay and eat their ice cream in the dining area- most people order and then leave. People are nice and excited. Even the grumpiest lady, with the biggest frown on her face when she orders, ends up with a smile when presented with her cone. It's a transformation. Kids come in and oooo and ahhhh over the 53 flavors- and then jump up and down when they get their cones, and everyone loves our super sundaes or our HUGE banana splits. People are in good humor to us staff members and to each other. It's nice to see everyone being nice. As Hawkeye Pierce said in M*A*S*H: "It's nice to be nice to the nice!" I wish I would've known about this part of the idealized food service industry earlier!

Hmmmmmmmmm, I wonder what they're really putting in the ice cream? Doesn't matter to me as long as everyone stays happy! So, while I was bummed that I still hadn't found a full time professional position, I have to say I'm at least enjoying the wonderful world of scooping ice cream for the masses!

Please pass the chocolate cherry amaretto,
Mags

This post has been edited and formatted to fit your screen

So I wrote a post and thought I hit "publish post" but I hit save- last night. The post was about how tired I was last night, and about subbing and blah blah blah... maybe it was a sign from the writing gods that the post was utter and complete shite that it didn't deserve to be read by the human eye. Or I could've been really really tired and hit the wrong button. Could go either way.

But now it's Friday and most of the crap doesn't make sense so to combine what would've been yesterdays post and some thoughts about today....

I subbed the last 2 days and I was in for English teachers!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! In my former life, I was known to impart knowledge to teens in a classroom setting about writers of the day and from 'back in the day' so this was a real treat. (And since I've subbed for science where I felt stupid, Calculus where I felt stupider and Spanish where I felt stupidest, I was purty darn thrilled to know sum'in' 'bout sump'in). I knew these ladies and made contact with them days in advance and we worked out lesson plans that would be fun for the kids, keep everyone on track and not lose an instructional day and was stuff that I enjoy teaching. I even wrote the activities and lesson plans for one class.

I had 7th grade speech for a day and 8th grade literature for a day. The speech was fun and I did activities with non verbal cues, focusing on non verbal communication. The kids were GREAT and thought it was fun. They were well behaved and seemed to "get" the point or the purpose of the lesson and the activities. Today with Poe we read and discussed "The Tell Tale Heart" aloud and did a story board project- again my idea. Since I wrote a paper on the madness of Poe and his narrators when I was working on my masters, this was right up my alley. I love some good Poe and I love spinning a bullshit web for the kids about Poe's crazy writings and his crazier life.

Both days were good and fun. I had little to no discipline problems- which to me is a sign of an excellent classroom teacher in the first place. Their regular teachers have high standards so they were a joy to have because someone else did all the work that goes into creating a good class atmosphere for me- kudos to Mrs D and B! These were just good teaching days. I felt like I was doing something more than babysitting and was actually giving them knowledge!

What I also learned was that I do not want to make a career out of this- and yes I'll probably eat my words at some point when the only job I can get is another teaching gig. But I was exhausted the last 2 days when I got home. I was thrilled at no homework but pitted the "real" teachers who had to grade the stuff. These were rare red letter days where it all clicked but they are rare. I don't have the energy to battle kids, dealing with them being rude, discipline, the No Child Left Behind (the worst education legislation in history) paperwork, the administrative paperwork, the grading, lesson plans, faculty meetings, staff meetings, team teacher meetings, mentoring meetings, any other meeting is bullshit meetings, pissed off parents, and the lot of it- all the bloody rubbish- that goes with education.

So I did have a good 2 days. But now what the hell am I going to do when I grow up?

Back to Neverneverland,
Maggie

I suck. I owe.

I suck. I know. I suck. I'm having adjustment issues since I've been back thus making me really suck...

I owe you, my wonderful readers, so much. I owe you

• a fixed blog
• an actual real post about something, like my trip to Ireland, my love affair with a novella, my love affair with Sam, my job hunting fears, the bullet hole in my car, the stress of a long distance romance, finding oneself- which is a fucking horrible phrase, Mac's zebra hair, hanging with Lilith,
  
• reading your blogs! I've missed you and can't wait to have time to catch up
  
• getting back to writing, of clearing my head and purging my soul here

So thank you for being patient with me and starting tomorrow I am going to buckle down and generate some good stuff here. I'm going to fix the blasted missing image from photobucket, hopefully with the help of Hecate my other techie guru and Goddess of all things Blogtemplate. I'm going to write one good solid post. About something.

making promises and hoping to keep them,
Maggie

Picasso I ain't!

Yesterday Hecate and I met in Northern Civilization to hang out. We met early and left early because of the HUGE winter storm that was headed our way.

After I arrived 25 minutes late because I overslept like the dumbass I can sometimes be, we dined at Arbys and got caught up on the usual stuff. (I had to tell her about a former Sam of mine who wanted a date but then proceed to tell me about having to come up with an excuse (LIE!) to feed his fiancee... OMG! WTF! WAJ! [What A Jerk!]) Then we headed out to paint pottery.

I have zero artistic ability. I can barely draw stick figures. I have no talent when it comes to painting or drawing or sketching or knitting or crocheting or anything artsy or crafty. I love art history and I love to look at art, but to create it... well, for me, it's not my strong point. All that being said, I had a great time.

After getting slightly lost on the way to the studio, we finally arrived. We were the only ones in the brightly painted shop, other than the owner, which was good since I asked lots of questions and we moved about a lot to get supplies and stuff. We browsed the bisque pieces and each selected a coffee mug to paint, ironically. We also selected the SAME piece to paint, double irony.

We got our paints and brushes. I sort of had a vision of what I wanted it to look like- something to do with coffee, pink and shoes. But when one has no artistic ability, one needs to describe her vision to someone who can do more than straight lines and produce the desired art on said coffee mug. ie: The woman who owned the place drew a shoe on my mug for me.

Hecate and I sat and painted in contented silence. I think she was amazed that I could be quiet for so long. The radio was on to music I liked and we chatted and listened to music and painted. It was a quite a fun time, at least for me. My mug looked like... I tried, while Hecate's, on the other hand, looked beautiful with her Chinese symbol and lettering. It turned out great and nice and neat and professional looking, completely unlike mine...

And in one week we can go back and pick up our "creations" after they are fired in the kiln. And I promise to show pictures here next week when we get them back.

I love doing stuff like this, even though I have no art ability. And lemme be the first to tell you, I don't try and pretend to have art ability either. (I'm also not one of those people who say they have no art ability and then can draw a complete replica of the Sistine Chapel and be all modest. I really can't do ART!). Several years ago when Mac was just little and I was dating Canadian Sam we painted at a similar type of place and it just stressed to out because mine always looked awful compared to everyone else's work. this time it didn't matter, as long as I had fun doing it- and I did. Don't sweat the small stuff and this was small. Important, but small. And fun, which is all that matters!

It seems that all my friends and family have some artsy ability, or crafty ability, whereas I'm lacking. I like to try and I have fun. I do like to mess around and scrapbook, which is crafty but I will never make a page that will be featured in a magazine. I just like to give it a whirl and if I'm please with the results, then I keep trying. If I frustrate myself into NOT having FUN, then I stop. I don't give up, but I realize this is something I'm trying as a hobby or for fun and if it's not FUN, and not a life requirement, then I'm just not gonna do it. Life is made up of too many things we MUST do that aren't really all that fun so why add on more?

So, painting pottery scores high on the fun list. And I can't wait to go back and make a saucer to match my mug... or paint one of those cute frog statues... can I have a pink frog?

No stadingstill life,
Maggie