What I learned last night

I don't know how this conversation even started. ITSam and I were talking and he was telling me something or asking me something but I got confused because of my apparent lack of knowledge. His story went by the way side when he learned he had to sort me out.

I didn't know I needed sorted.

Until last night I thought...

Well, I guess I was wrong...

My pop culture references short circuited somewhere.

Paul Hogan was the star of the movie Crocodile Dundee. This movie was a fake. Paul Hogan is an actor. And he's still alive. He isn't dead, and wasn't killed by a manatee. Also, he doesn't have a daughter who has her own TV show on the Animal Planet called To Catch a Predator. And The Rock is not the nickname of Vin Diesel. And Vince Vaughn was not in Walking Tall. That was Johnny Knoxville.

Okay so I thought Paul Hogan was in a movie about his life (Crocodile Dundee) and that he was the Crocodile Hunter. Paul Hogan was the actor in a movie that was not about the life of Steve Irwin who IS... well, WAS the Crocodile Hunter. And Steve Irwin is dead. He was stung to death by a manta ray. Not a manatee. They are two separate guys. And two separate ocean creatures.

And Steve Irwin has a daughter who does have her own TV show, about animals.

The TV show To Catch a Predator is about catching Internet child molesters. Steve Irwin's daughter has nothing to do with the child molesters.

Ummmmm, let's see.... what else?

Oh, I thought the Rock, who's real name is Dwayne Johnson, was Vin Diesel. Or, rather, I thought The Rock was a nickname for Vin Diesel. They are two different guys. And while I was trying to figure out which guy was in what movie, I thought that Vince Vaughn was the sidekick in Walking Tall. Uhhhh, nope.

I hate it when I'm an idiot.

All these years.... I was just confused. I was content in my ignorance.

The Rock was The Scorpion King and he was not Fast and Furious.

A manatee looks like the cow of the ocean.

And I laughed until I about peed myself.

I've no idea, either...
Maggie

This is a manatee and it didn't kill Steve Irwin (or Paul Hogan).

This is a manta ray and it DID kill Steve Irwin (not Paul Hogan).

This is Steve Irwin. He is the real life Crocodile Hunter and he is dead, killed by the manta ray (not the manatee). The movie Crocodile Dundee has NOTHING to do with him, at all, ever.

This is Paul Hogan, an actor, who is alive and was not killed by a manatee nor manta ray and has nothing to do with Steve Irwin. Paul starred in the movie Crocodile Dundee, which is NOT about the life of Steve Irwin.

This is Vin Diesel who is just Vin Diesel. He was in the Fast and the Furious. He was not a wrestler, a pro football player, and was not in Walking Tall, nor was he the scorpion king. And lots of Internet sites speculate that he's gay.

This is The Rock, aka Dwayne Johnson. He was a wrestler, and could've been a football player. He was in Walking Tall, and was he the scorpion king. No Internet speculation about his sexuality.

Does anyone other than me see I could at least get these two guys confused?

Johnny Knoxville who IS in Walking Tall

Vince Vaughn who is NOT in Walking Tall

Now that we have that all cleared up...

Foray into Facebook

Reasons I don't Facebook:

1. I will not do anything that supports Mark Zuckerburg

2. Anyone I like well enough to be in contact with, I already am

3. I blog

4. I don't care

5. I would be upset if I was blocked or un-friended or if people wrote bad things on my wallpaper.

6. I'll be the person who can't keep her mouth shut and would wind up fired because I said something inappropriate or had pictures of me doing something "inappropriate."

That being said, I have apparently been a topic of discussion on my son's Facebook account, and ITSam has pictures of me on his. The easy one first: Sam did ask me if it was okay to have pictures of me on his Facebook AND he let me pick which ones I wanted him to use.

As for Mac... well, the background is that Sam and I were kissing on the couch the other night, after we thought everyone had gone to bed. We were not naked, touching naughty bits, or having sex, not groping or dry humping. We. were. kissing. on. the. couch. At my dad's. Mac came downstairs; he didn't say anything, but he did make gagging sounds. I thought nothing of it.

Until after school yesterday when Mac TOLD me he wrote it on his F-book, about it was "gross and disgusting to see" his mom and her boyfriend making out. Well, I guess he's gotten about 100 comments. The kids are teasing him to death- hey, he asked for it. And he told me I have a fan club. I've met most of the kids who said anything, either while they were hanging out with Mac or when I worked at his school for 8 weeks. One girl (she and I had a discussion one day about the difference between black and white guys) asked mac if my boyfriend was chocolate. Mac said, "NO! He's hairy, bald and vanilla- and mauling my mom." (there was no mauling, I swear!) The girl responded "Oh yuck- what is she thinking?" (Is it yuck that he's bald, hairy or vanilla?). The kids have really razzed him and love me, and just him to get over it. Mac said he was shocked at the number of kids who said they walked in on their parents having sex. He decided at that point, it could've been worse.

I can't believe he wrote any of if. I can't believe the kids commented. I can't believe I have a fan club.

Sometimes I wish I had a Facebook account only to see the pictures my sister-in-law posts of Fab Finn and the Divine Ms K. She takes tons of pictures and the kids are adorable and I would just love access to that. Sometimes I would like access to Facebook to ask, for example, Sam's cousin's wife (his 2nd cousin in law?) for a copy of a picture she took of him and me last summer at a picnic. That's pretty random, I know, but it's an example I can think of right now. Or when Farrago is going to sing karaoke or be in a show I could easily see this info- if he would let me be a friend.

Actually, Farrago had an idea. He said if there was stuff on Facebook and I didn't want to have contact with people in my past, that I could Facebook as Maggie. Now, that's a thought. Though, he did say this about 8 months ago and I haven't done anything like that so I think that's just what it is: a thought.

I think Mac gave me a new reason to stay off Facebook.

Maggie

Be careful what you wish for

I've really wanted a work study student in the library. We have a few spots on campus where students can work and after I begged and pleaded, the library was added to the list. I was given a student. She's supposed to work for me three periods a day.

This is where the title comes into play. I should've be careful what I wish for. Or maybe I should be much more specific in what I wish for.

See, I wanted someone who could put books away, straighten shelves, cover books, help with inventory, put the shelves in alphabetical/ Dewey order, make bulletin boards, and do some desk top publishing to promote library activities. This was my dream person.

What I got was a girl who is special education and very low functioning. One reason she's at our facility is that she couldn't function in a regular school setting, and her parents don't want her. While this is a heart breaking story, and it is, this is the person they assigned to WORK IN THE LIBRARY. This is not a good fit.

She worked with me for a week. She is a very sweet child. I don't think she would harm a fly. She is certainly not a troublemaker. But she is very, very slow. And she doesn't really read very well. She can't do complex tasks. I saw this was not going to work well but I tried. At the end of the week when the Work study director and I met with her, we asked what the most difficult task was she was given. She said that straightening shelves. people, straightening the shelves is the easiest thing I have to do in the library!

No one knew how low functioning she was when she came to our school so no one can really be blamed. The problem is we have nowhere else to put her. Most of the work study jobs are independent and I think she would be better as part of a team, where she would have other people to keep her on task, keep her motivated and for her to follow what they do.

I like her and I feel bad that after a week and a half, it isn't working. I just can't afford to stand next to her to show her the steps over and over again. This isn't me being mean and not wanting to work with special ed- ah, contrary since that's what I did for the last year and a half in education. And I like working with special ed. kids. This is just an a bad fit job for this particular child.

We think we might have some other choices rather than a work study for her. But if she's pulled from the library, I won't be assigned another person. All the kids in the program have been placed. Drat!

I had such great plans! Ah, maybe next semester!

Maggie

How can I have the weekend blahs?

You ever have so much going on in your head you can't find your sense of humor, or at least for very long?

I shouldn't let all this shit rent space in my head but I do.

And for the last 7-10 days I've been experiencing something new- anxiety attacks. First time it happened I thought I was having a freaking heart attack and I would've been pissed if I had one at age 38 and my ex husband who is older, meaner, fatter and far uglier didn't have one first.

That all being said, yesterday was tons of fun because Daddy-O and Curley and I did a shopping at craft store day. I'm going to make a dress! Let me amend that; Curely is going to show me how to make a dress and then I'm going to do the second one by myself. Pictures will follow.

Other than a blow by blow of my weekend, which I'm sure isn't all that exciting to read (though props to Curley's Son, the King of Computers, for doing some super fun, cute things to my machine!!!! he so rocks! Kisses to King of computers!) I really don't have anything to add.

I think I need to go do something crazy and see if it generates some material. As soon as I come up with something I can afford, I'll get right on that.

Oh, wait! While Mac hasn't decided what to sing for Spring Spec, I guess at the pep session at his school on Friday, he rapped "Jump On It" in front of the entire student body to rev up the crowd and got a standing ovation. Wish I could've seen that!

So, have a good night, and tomorrow will bring another attempt to post. I'm sure I'll come up with something, right?

Mags

Revenge of the Music God

Saturday I was driving home from spending the day in Northern Civilization at Half Price Books and since Mac and I have been sharing my car, I've found my CDs end up in a pile. I hadn't listened to a CD for a long time. I found a bunch that had been burned- no labels & not titles of course- so I thought I would just play musical surprise and pop them in to see what was on there. And it sure was a surprise! I haven't burned a CD since summer 2007 so all these blank ones were before that.

And what a schmaltzy mess I found. That's when I decided the God of Music was a man because if she were a woman I wouldn't have had this bizarre conglomeration of music we could call "Remember all the Men in your Life set to Music"!

And right now, we're not going to examine my head space- we can armchair psychoanalyze me later. That's not a good idea now... I have some thoughts but right now, let's not. Let's just check out these tunes.

First I had "Thank you for Loving Me" by Bon Jovi. This is a special memory song with a Sam from many years ago. He actually proposed to me and I said no. Anyway, he was a DJ part time, for wedding receptions and other events. One night he was doing a wedding reception and he invited me to go and help and I did. We actually were both friends of the bride and I had been invited to the wedding so I was really there as a guest. This was on the bride's play list and when he played it, he took me in his arms and we danced on the stage in front of everyone and he sang this to me. Another time we were out at a karaoke bar and he sang this to me (and he is GOOD, and can really SING!), bringing me up on stage and serenading me.



Not kidding, the next song that popped up when I hit random was the song "God Bless the Broken Road" by Rascal Flats. That belonged to a Sam I dated the summer before I moved to the Wild West. Well, we didn't start dating, we were just VERY good friends (he's a memory I want to explore mentally and might write out sometime), but on July 4, 2006 this song played and he declared his love for me... we were both drunk. But after that night, it became our song. That relationship ended REALLY badly... I wanted AlaskaSam and he wanted some chick in Philly but we cared for each other... yeah, how many ways can you spell Fucked up? The day I was leaving for the Wild West, he sent me this song in an email. I still think of him just a little bit fondly when I hear it. He's one that I should hate but don't, oddly enough. Guess we all make mistakes.



The next disc played the song "Josephine" by the Wallflowers. At this point I'm laughing, rather than crying, and thinking "Are you freaking kidding me?" as the music spilled through the speakers. Some of you might remember this... when I lived in the Wild West I met a Cowboy Sam. And while I'm being a melancholy schlaub I want to say that at the end of our first date... well, around 6:30 a.m. I got of CowboySam's bed (yep I broke the cardinal rule but since it turned into a 5 month stand rather than the one night kind it wasn't a bad call... and I learned my lesson thank you very much!) and went home in the dark and cold, listening to the song "Josephine" (by the Wallflowers) on the radio. And bam- on Saturday- there it was on the CD! Ah, memories. And it's a pretty obscure song that kept haunting us though our relationship. It was on the radio a few times when we went out and the one and only time we watched VH1 together it was on.



Okay, this was a good one that made me smile. You know the song "You're Beautiful" by James Blunt? Well, there was a woman who sort of had a crush on me (yeah she's gay), and if I were to play for that team we could say I had a Girl Crush on her, too. So right before I went to the Wild West I found out that this song and her and me were all sorta linked. Yeah... she's hot. But taken. *a-hem!*



And I swear I must have had a CD that I should've called "AlaskaSam." He and I actually have a huge list of "us" songs and I already shared our "In the Wee Small Hours" last week, I thought I would pick something else. There are waaaaaaaaaaay to many stories about each of these songs to try and explain them all. And they all played in a row. Wonder what was happening in my head when I made that damn CD, eh? So, here's "Full of Grace" by Sarah McLachlan". The story with this one is that he moved to Alaska and I didn't go. The first winter he was there was REALLY miserable for both of us. I sent him the lyrics to this song in an email one dark and dreary night. Apparently, at the same time I was sending him that email he was writing one to me with this an audio wave file attached- of this song. We have always been connected in an ethereal way.



This is another song that's us. Just take my word for it, okay?



I was trying to decide if I should chuck the CDs out the window one at a time or hang on to them or use them as coasters or what. I mean, really? REALLY? What sort of weird crap was going on there? I think of the dozen songs I played only 3 had nothing to do with men. Almost downright cruel. But in a weird way, it was funny. It was.

By the end of the car ride (I thought I was never going to get home!) I thought this song probably was more apt to describe me than anything else at this point!



Now go listen to some music, okay?

Melancholy Mags

*and remember, these are here for the MUSIC not because I necessarily like the videos, okay?*

Book it!

So, guess what? In the month of January 2010- just last month- I read a grand total of 5 books. Yup, a grand total of 5. And so far, these five whole big days in February I've read 1. ONE book!

Is this really a big deal? Is it important? Why does this matter?

Well, last year during the month of January (2009) I read exactly 9 books. In one year the monthly difference is 4. What the hell? And by this time last year in February I had read 1 book, so there is still time to kick some February reading ass but I was just shocked that my January number is so low.

Last year my goal was to read 10 books a month and I came up shy 3 books for the entire YEAR. But if I keep going like this, I'll be waaaaaaaaaaaaaay off.

I think my problem this year has been more of what I was talking about yesterday: being tired. I'm tired and stressed. I also have some other projects this January that I didn't at this time last year. And during January this year, I'm working full time at a school. Last year, in January, I was just subbing and I could read during the day. For example, last year in January I subbed for a whole week for a Spanish teacher. I speak no Spanish so he left a video for me to show to six periods a day: it was a Spanish soap opera. What would I do with the whole day then but read? And this went on for a week, mind you, so no wonder I killed off ten books in January 2009.

Who knows what February 2010 will bring? I hope I can read more than 5... I guess the odds are good since I have read one book and I have less than 100 pages of another so I might actually make a few more than 5. But if I want to surpass my own bad self for my February goal, then I need to read 13+ books since last year I read 12 in February.

Oh help. Why do I do this to myself?

Maggie

Grammar alert at 1:52 am

The other night I woke up at 1:52 am thinking, "OMG! I sent Ms. English Teacher an email thanking her for her 'patients and understanding' regarding a situation." Yes, I swear to goddess, I was wide awake at 1:52 am and that was the first thought in my head.

I was so upset that I might've sent my fellow colleague, and an English teacher at the middle school, an email using the wrong version of 'patience' that I got OUT of BED and went to check my sent box to see if I really, really did that. I didn't. What I did say was: "Thanks for being patient with me; I'll do my best."

Yes, get the visual. It's 1:52 am and I left my cold bed to sit huddled in front of the computer to check this. I looked at my "sent" box to verify. Then I sat there trying to remember if that was still correct or not, so I went so far as to check on dictionary.com.

The things that keep me awake at night.............

I need a life,
Maggie

Stifling my inner freak

I've discovered since living with Daddy-O I have some really weird habits. Or if you don't necessarily want to call them habits, you could say there are some strange things I like to do. And since I live here, I don't do those things because... well, I guess I don't want anyone seeing me do them. But I don't mind sharing...

I like to make bread dough while drinking glasses of wine while wearing my pajamas. And I usually play big band music or Rogers & Hammerstein scores and sing along. Often time, the bread never comes to fruition because I knead it too much. I'm really working out frustrations and I enjoy the process of whacking, pounding and banging the dough around that it bakes up really shittily so I usually toss it before baking. And when I'm not singing and dancing around, I'm usually talking to the pile of dough, swearing at it and calling it by names of people who make me angry. Yup. I've stopped bread dough abuse for the last 11 months.

On weekends I often used to put my jammies on when I got home from school, around 330 in the afternoon and not take them off until Monday morning when I went back to school. I would mostly lay around, sleep, nap, read, talk to myself, and just do nothing (maybe make a batch of bread dough). I might grade, I might listen to music, I might grade, I might read. But mostly I would lay on my bed or on the couch and watch one movie after another after another. I wouldn't even answer the phone. I wouldn't shower. I would eat mac and cheese at 2 am for dinner or just have popcorn for breakfast. Or eat crackers. The goal was to "lay". And do nothing. I haven't done this since I've been here.

You can't just stay in your jammies for 60 hours when there's another person in the house unless you're deathly ill. It's weird to the other person and they get all worried. And part of that fun is the not talking to or associating with other humans. If I did that here, I would have to talk to Daddy-O and if I'm gonna talk to him I might as well do it in street clothes and be ready to go somewhere since I'm already in regular clothes, with shoes next to the front door. Ya know?

Nor do I dance around in my underwear and sing in my hairbrush, pretending to be giving a concert at Carnegie Hall. I also don't read letters from old boyfriends aloud and make fun of their grammar. (I usually drank wine when I did this.) I also don't talk to the movies on tv, throw food at the screen, or trash talk the cat, mostly because I don't have a cat. I also don't get out all my shoes and try them on and talk to them. (Hmmmmm, that one even sounds weird to me.) I also don't play my favorite game: get either a really bad action movie or find a soap opera on the Spanish channel. Then I put it on mute. And I write my own dialogue and I do voices. I don't really 'write' it down though; I just lay there and make it up aloud.

Maybe it's a good thing that I'm here and am giving up all these unusual little hobbies for things that are more productive and involve interaction with real humans rather than my tv and a wine bottle? Oh hell, we all know I'm lying. We know that as soon as I have my own place again I'll be back to my old habits of weirdness.

One weird chick,
Maggie

Here today, Gone Tomorrow

I've stayed away from Facebook for LOTS of reasons and one of them is my fear of rejection. Yup, that's right: rejection.

From what I gather, people want to add you as a friend to their pages and I'm afraid no one other than my former high school students will want to friend with me. Or that I'll try and friend someone who will decline my friend request. Or worse yet, someone will add me as a friend and then at some arbitrary point in the future, decide to "UNfriend" me. I just couldn't handle it.

Yes, I realize that is completely silly and probably borderline stupid, but right now with the way my life is arranged, I just don't think I could handle any MORE rejection which I would manipulate into into failure.

All that being said, I've been trying to decide what to do with my little followers sidebar thingy. I like that I have followers- that is so cool, unbelievably flattering, and it frankly makes me feel good. I also get jealous when I go to other blogs and they have more followers than me. Then there's the rejection aspect. I lost a follower the other day. Yup- gone. She just decided to quit following me. I wonder if I offended her, or if she just didn't have time to read me (and if that's the case, why is it ME she doesn't read rather than some other blog?) or it just didn't suit her fancy or whatever. See, rejection. I LIKE seeing there are people who choose to be my friend (to quote Bragger!) but it makes me sad when they leave, so I've wondered if I should just omit it and deal.

I want to thank everyone who follows officially and unofficially. I also appreciate your comments and just knowing there are people out there in the great wide world who make time in your busy lives to see what's up with me is amazing, and I thank you. Check out the bloggers in my sidebar who are followers; there are some talented writers in there.

And welcome to all those new followers, who've signed up and those who choose to read! Welcome to my world. I'm glad you're here.

(an aside: I like saying 'followers'; it's so very guru like. Ah, the directions I could go with this.)

And the purpose of this post? Well...... honestly, it probably could've just been a point on a bulleted list of randomosity, but I'm trying to really blog real stuff during this "national blog every day" month and not resort to memes and Johnny D pictures. And lately I'm struggling with feelings of failure and I also lost a follower all at the same time- illogical rationalization I realize but right now I'm sweating the small stuff.

Okay, I'm done. I'm gonna go eat gummibears.

Maggie

I just can't do it

I love to cook and I'm pretty good. Oh, the ant chicken, the flaming chicken, the flaming pizza, the flaming apple pie, and the exploding eggs were about 20 years ago. I've gotten better in the kitchen over the years. I can make some pretty extreme dishes: I can do homemade noodles and tomato sauce for my lasagna, apple stuffed pork chops, a killer twice baked potato, homemade chicken and noodle soup, a great crock pot roast in a red wine sauce, and some funky mashed potatoes.

But there are two things that I've yet to master. I can't even come close. The first thing... well, it doesn't matter what apartment I live in, I've still never done it. We can't blame the refrigerator. Even here at my folks house, Daddy-O can make it so it has to be a chef's error. I can't make Jell-O. That's right, I can admit it. I can't make Jell-O. I have no idea what I'm doing wrong. Sometimes it won't stand up, or it's grainy, or it forms with a layer of gooey water on the top or it freezes. It never matters where I live or what I do, I CANNOT make Jell-O. And yes, I follow the directions on the box to a "T". I don't try anything fancy with fruit nor do I try to make jigglers, using "knox". I'm trying to make plain old Jell-O. I've talked about this with friends and family over the years and it doesn't matter what suggestions are made, my Jell-O turns out the be a mess.

The only thing I can make that involves Jell-O are Jell-O shots. If I can use booze in it, they turn out okay- not perfect, but good enough to count as Jell-O shots. Weird...

Finally, the other thing I can't make right are rice crispy treats. I've tried several times over the years and I usually end up with an unsuccessful mess. Usually they turn out really hard, not gooey. Again, I follow the directions but to no avail. I even tried to make special "Halloween treats" and substituted Halloween Capt'n Crunch for the rice crispies and again, they were hard and not gooey and not yummy. Now, Daddy-O thinks these failed because the marshmallows were stale. Possible. I thought it could be because I didn't cut back on the amount of cereal used and it's bulkier than rice crispies.

Regardless of this attempt of something different, I can't seem to make the traditional Rice Crispy treats without them coming out like bricks.

I would love some suggestions for making a nice, gooey, soft, pull apart rice crispy treats like everyone else can make. Please!

And well, not to be ungrateful or anything, but just forgo the suggestions for Jell-O. I don't think anyone could help me with that issue, not even Emeril, Paula Deen or Julia Child!

Do you think I can't make these perfectly wonderful but typically kiddie treats because I don't like kids? Karma?

Snap, Crackle, and Pop are making fun of me,
Maggie Mae

Mac was 'driving' me crazy!

I've been teaching Mac to drive for the last 2 months and a few days. I'm really proud of him and he's been doing a really good job.

There, of course, there are just a few times when I've wanted nothing more than to come home from a driving lesson and drink heavily. There are a few times I thought it would make more sense to drink heavily and then take him for a driving lesson.

I've also learned that it's too bad I couldn't get a brake installed on the front passenger side temporarily.

Actually, considering he drove about 3 times ever, before he got his permit, he's done a fabulous job! Other than having a heavy foot (re: speeding) he's a pretty decent driver. We've driven almost daily for 2 months. We've been in town, the interstate, country roads, highways, construction zones, bigger cities and small towns, in parking lots, one ways, neighborhoods, drive thrus, everywhere that I could think of that would help him gain driving skills.

I will admit I refused to teach him to parallel park. I can barely do that myself so I told his dad he had to cover that part of the lesson. Mac parallel parked about 25 times, over and over again, all over town, in his father's pick up truck on Tuesday night, until he nailed it perfectly. (Maybe he can give me some tips?)

Since he's my baby and he'll be the only child I ever have, this driving thing has been stressful on several levels. First, I want him to be a good driver and since he didn't take driver's education (he missed his when he moved from the Wild West back to Civilization and then it would've taken about $400 to attend a driving school) I taught him so I hope I didn't forget something in the driving process. Second, I only have one car and if he borrows it and would have an accident, I'm out the insurance deductible and a vehicle. Third, I'm scared to death to have him drive alone. I've spent the last 16.5 years taking care of him and if he's driving, then, his well being is totally out of my control and in his own hands or that of someone else driving a car who could be a stupid idiot. At least if I'm driving and something happened it would be my fault. What if he's driving and something happened? Then it's my fault, too, I guess, since I taught him to drive.

He's growing up and I'm scared. I hate this. I really do. I want him to have wings and fly and succeed but I'm terrified because he's my baby, and I want to protect him.

Which brings me to what happened Wednesday.

He had to take his driving test today with a driving instructor in my car at the DMV. We reviewed all the way there. He and I bounced "things to remember" off each: don't play the radio, turn off the cell phone, don't swear, remember to 10 and 2, no California stops, be aware of school zones and one way street signs, don't follow too closely, don't be sarcastic about anything, seatbelts at all times, watch the RR crossing, and don't speed on the highway (or anywhere else). He was a nervous wreck but still confident. (I was so nervous I threw up but didn't tell him that.)

The instructor said the test would be about 15-20 minutes long. They had been gone about 20 minutes and came back in. He failed the test.

She said they were on their way back to the DMV and he had done perfectly (including the parallel parking!) until he ran a stop sign. Yup, blew right through it. He didn't know the test was almost over or that he had a perfect score until then so he wasn't hurrying or celebrating. He had just left a school zone (where the yellow lights had been blinking) , in a neighborhood he had never been in, on a street he'd never been on, and near a fire station (he said he was concentrating on having to pull over if he hear a siren)- so much going on and he just missed it. No excuse, I know it, really I do. I understand he had to be failed. He knew it, too. Still, I felt sick for him.

The test lady told him he had done great until then but that's an automatic failure. She told him he just needed to relax and to try and not be so tense and nervous. She also told him he could come back in 2 weeks, and she wouldn't make him parallel park again since he did it so well.

I feel so bad, bad, bad for him. He was so upset. It really hit his self confidence and his self esteem. He feels embarrassed and stupid and like a failure. I feel like I failed him.

But in 2 more weeks we're gonna go back and he's gonna try it again. In the meantime, we're going to drive every single city street in this town so he's at least seen it all at least once.

Before the test I wasn't sure if I really wanted him to pass, that I just wanted a few more days of being in control of taking care of my baby boy, but after seeing the look on his face when he didn't make it--- I would take the "pass" and let me deal with my own stress than ever see him fail again.

Being a kid is very hard and life lessons to learn really suck, but being mom and letting him grow up is really hard, too. It all sucks.

Mama,
Maggie

My issue with schools and reading

And the ranting continues: what is WITH schools and reading?

What I mean is.... when kids get to high school, why can't we let them read for fun?!?

Just about every school here in the Midwest (in Civilization as well as teachers I know in surrounding states have confirmed this with me) has a standardized reading program for high school kids. I'm not talking about English classes and the novels read in Language Arts. I mean schools set aside time for students to read.

But they can't just have an SSR (Sustained Silent Reading) period; no, the schools decide we must TEST the students. Goddamnit I am so sick and tired of students being tested to death over everything. SSS started out as a class period, separate from the rest of the class periods, as a 15-20 time of day where students were supposed to read something for fun. As long as they were reading and not sleeping, talking or doing homework, they could read anything that was school appropriate: novels, biographies, magazines, newspapers, comics- anything they were interested in was fair game.

Oh no. Apparently we don't want to make reading fun for the age set that typically hates books. Oh no, we can;t let kids have fun in school- the absurd notion! Oh no, we must test kids! Let's have a program called Accelerated Reading (AR) or Reading Counts- both programs involve every book in the school library being assigned a reading level and then a test is written for each book and the books are assigned a point value. The tests are computerized. These are national programs, not just here in my state, though some places have them under different names or have their own "Meet the State Standards" equivalent.

So now, the English teachers decide in addition to all the poetry and novels and books reports kids do, let's make kids get AR or Reading Counts points! Oh golly gee wow! So each semester kids need to earn X number of points as part of their grade, or as a percentage. And when do the kids read these books now? Why, during SSR of course. So no longer are kids reading for fun and pleasure and finding something that interests them. No longer are those kids who hate to read allowed to find something the grabs them. No longer are kids allowed to read what they want. Why? Because not every book ever written has a "test" so if you read something with no test, then you don't get any points. Now kids are hunting for books with high points to read.

I was looking as these lists the other day, just perusing and some of the choices were atrocious. I mean, some of the shit I've never heard of, some was on my college reading list and most of is would work better than an Ambien. Google AR or Reading counts with your state name and look at the high school list. Go on... I'll wait.

DAMN IT!!!!!!!!!!! Why can't they be allowed to read for fun? No wonder kids hate to read! It's because we test the hell out of them and don't make it fun. I was an English teacher for almost 10 years and I am a complete bibliophile whose read 10 books this month alone (and 95 this year) so I am most certainly NOT saying kids shouldn't read for a grade, but if we are going to allocate time during the school day and tell kids they have to read during this time, then let them read anything they want. Without a test. Just. read. for. fun.

I know kids who are LD (Learning Disabled) where reading is so hard for them but they love the magazine Sports Illustrated. Some of the students who hate to read, especially LD kids, have an interest in a specific topic like trains or war or dinosaurs or vampires. So now instead of taking 20 minutes to read an article in the magazine or a topic specific book, they have to go back to struggling through another novel of some kind- like a classic- to ear points to get another damn grade.

I am so so so sick of this stuff. I hate that kids hate to read. Kids need to be given an opportunity to explore all sorts of reading material from the novel to the memoir to newspapers to... anything that interests them.

Another disservice brought to you by the public education system.

the newly Jaded one,
Maggie

Friends with potential

For a few folks who've been inquiring about the status of "Trooper & Maggie" the status is: friends with potential. That's it.

He's still trying to get healed from his back surgery and it's not going as well as he was hoping. He's still trying to catch up on all his 30 days of back logged work as well as staying on top of the new work that comes along. He's still taking care of his kids (he has them half of the week or more) and helping his father farm- and it's harvest time for those of you who aren't in the "know" with farm life. And his area just got some snow, which can making farming and his job a bit of a nightmare. Gee- is that all?

He's still trying to figure out if he wants to make time in his life to date, and such. And when he'll be able to make time. Hmmmmm, when in writing, it sounds pretty bad. But we've made tentative plans to see each other sometime in November, before Thanksgiving; that's the extent of the plan.

But he and I talk and text a few times a week and all is well. We're still friends and might become more or we might just stay friends. So... that's it for the love and dating life of Maggie Mae.

Batting zero,
Mags

For Stephanie Plum fans- plus, I might have an OCD

I was at Wally World last night and was doing some shopping and while I was perusing the junk food, I spied something special. So special, I squealed and jumped up and down chanting, "Oh My God Oh My God" while trying to dial my sister-in-law on my cell. There are 2 people (Hecate being the other but she was in class) in the entire history of the world that I knew I could call who would get this. And when Booknut answered the phone I practically screamed THE WORD: "TASTYKAKES!!!!!!!!!" It took about a nanosecond for her to scream back at me, "OMG TASTYKAKES!!!" Of course, I had to take a picture of the box and send it to her And for those of you who are crazy about Stephanie, here ya go!

And no, I didn't see Steph or Lulu lurking in the aisles, darn it! (And for those of you who have no idea what I'm talking about, I apologize because I try to never have an "inside joke" here unless it's among all my regular readers who are in on it but I couldn't help it this time, so just please keep reading!)

Whilst speaking of Wally World, I need to confess something. I'm the crazy Wally World lady. You know the one: I push my cart up and down the rows, muttering under my breath, trying to read signs, glaring at other shoppers to get the hell outta my way, clutching my list. I also find myself talking to myself as well. And when I talk to myself, I don't do it quietly. I find I talk out loud to the point where people look at me or think I'm "blue toothing". But I'm not. I'm just the crazy lady at Wally World.

Like last night, for example, I bought a package of soup mix and it was printed on the packaging "0 transfat" and I said, "Well, Auntie, how do you like that? I'm being healthy by accident. So there! HA!" and I chucked it in my cart. And other people were looking at me.

I also stood looking at a pastry display of fall treats asking "Where the hell is the pumpkin roll? Damn it, where IS it?" People clutched their small children to their breasts and fled the area, while a brave bakery worker asked me if I need help. I'm happy to report there was no little white jacked in her hands.

As I walked passed the Junior clothing department, I said, "Oh gee, look, the latest and greatest in slut wear for the 12 year old set." When I got to the body soap aisle, I bitched because I couldn't find it and when I did, I said, "What's aqua scent? Where's original? I NEED original! Shit!" People were staring!

I think the topper was when I was picking boxes of Puffs. I bought the kind with Aloe but not the kind with menthol in it "because I don't like menthol cigarettes so why would I want it in my tissues?" I proclaimed this loudly and clearly. People were trying to hide from me at this point, I think.

No, I'm not on medication but maybe I should be. I hate going to Wally World alone- this could be part of the reason. And I have no idea when it started, this talking aloud to myself on a regular basis. I seem to only do it when I'm in Wally World- no where else. Either living in a small town is getting to me or a huge corporate conglomeration is sucking the soul out of me each time I cross the threshold.

Oh well, now, at least, I'll have the TASTYKAKES!

Losing my sanity at Wal-Mart,
Maggie Mae

Random thoughts from my brain on a rainy Friday

• I've had several people ask me, since I started back subbing, if my last name was still the same. How sad people thought I got married when I'm not even dating.
• I found a radio station whose tag line should be "songs to slit your wrists by"
• And speaking of music, have you ever woken up in the morning with a super obscure song running through your head and when you turn on the car radio later that same day, it's the first song you hear. That happened to me this morning with the song "Send in the Clowns." See, I told you it was obscure.
• It's always 10 or 11 pm at night when I want to cook a huge meal or I'm in the middle of doing something work related when I have a brilliant writing idea and then when I finally have the time to write it, I just can't seem to recapture the moment.
• Who came up with the term HTML code? And what is the HTML code for a strike through and how do I use it in blogging?
• I resigned from ice cream under good terms with the agreement that I would fill in when possible but when the time came for me to fill in, the older lady owner threw a fit so I guess I really AM done!
• Why have I never learned to drive a stick shift?
• When did it become dark at 7 pm at night? I've been here and awake at that time but last night it was black as pitch at 7 pm and I just noticed it.
• I've fixed up four people in my day and 3 of them married the person I fixed them up with. I think some reciprocation is in order.
• I don't care how much rain we get- I'm not sticking any animals in the ark I might have to build. And in the words of Bill Cosby channeling Noah, "What's a cubit?"
• I forgot how tired subbing can make me but I'm glad to be doing it!
  

I think we need to learn Spanish before we try to speak it

Last night XRay girl and I decided to have a pitcher of margaritas at our fav Mexican restaurant.

By the end of the evening, XRay girl thought she could speak Spanish and ALL the waiters were laughing AT us. Though we had no idea what they were saying, we KNEW they were laughing at us.

But we didn't care since we were laughing at ourselves.

One minute we were actually talking and making sense and being quite serious and philosophical and then all of a sudden we both stopped and said, "We're drunk" and it was downhill from there. The giggling escalated into full blown laughter.

Neither of us took waiters home, which is a good thing because I think XRay girl's husband might have been pissed about that. And I don't think DaddyO would appreciate me bring home men to the attic... I just don't even want to go there.

Mr. XRay Girl came to get us and take us home, which is good because neither of us could drive a lick. Hell, we were giggling so hard that I'm sure people thought we couldn't even walk- but we could, really, I swear. I think.

We also learned that some of XRay Girl's ability to speak Spanish came from the tv show Cops, which means that her language skills were 1) not good 2) she knew dirty Spanish words and gang lingo but didn't know it, and 3) and our waiter thought it was hilarious that she could barely count to about 6 but knew LA Barrio gang words. Oh shit.

Our poor waiter. Our poor poor waiter.

If she and I ever go back, I know they'll flip a coin to see who gets stuck with us.

I would like to say we are good tippers. We had a sober moment there before we departed and I know we left a nice healthy tip. ($6 on a $20 tab isn't soooo bad, right? 30% is okay?)

Did I mention we giggled and laughed A LOT?

And "moo-la" is NOT Spanish for money?

And apparently there is an age cut off between calling us senoritas and senoras. And we're apparently senoras. Which for some reason really bothers me.

And now in the light of day, I really hope XRay Girl didn't holler at our server: "Yo Amegio, here's your moo-la, ese." Shit.

And this is where I'm bringing 9 people Saturday night for my birthday....XRay Girl included. Maybe I'll drink agua. Maybe they won't recognize me since I'll look a year older.

But damn we had a good time. And damn those margaritas were FINE! And we laughed so much my sides ache today. I really really needed that!

And I actually had planned to write a semi serious post today about something.... no clue.

I did learn a very important lesson: when Mr. XRay Girl comes to pick our drunk asses up, don't try and pet his pet bird because it bites.

Until next time,
Maggie

Matter of Trust

You would think that after that that's happened with the Shrews, with the mean That Bitch from back in the Wild West, all the Sams (especially AlaskaSam and CanadianSam), and more recently Trooper I would have more trust issues than I really do.

It hit me like a ton of bricks that I should stop trusting anyone after Trooper's phone call. Then I thought that was sort of drastic and probably a knee jerk reaction. He didn't really violate my "trust" exactly- he just hurt my feelings, hurt my heart, and disappointed me a whole bunch.

Then last night one of the kids came in to relieve me at the ice cream and he asked how my weekend was and I rolled my eyes or something and he said, "Oh yeah. I forgot. I'm sorry." And I looked at him with that "what?" look and he said, "I heard you got dumped by your cop boyfriend." I asked him where he heard that and he said "XRay Girl told me all about it," and he proceeded to tell me about my life in detail. (I would like the record to state that I never once referred to Trooper as my 'boyfriend' to anyone.)

I was shocked and surprised that XRay Girl would tell after I told her not to. And to tell one of the HS kids at the ice cream parlor where I worked! I was pretty mortified.

The ironic part is that she and I had plans to see a movie and have dinner last night as well. So when she came to get me for the movie (her turn to drive since I did last time) I called her on it. I figured worst case she would lie and then I would cause a huge ruckus and then end up back home, or she would fess up. Basically, she said she was sorry, she wasn't sure why she told and was sorry, didn't mean to hurt me and was sorry, and she seemed fairly chagrined. Okay.

So rather than end the friendship, I've decided to learn something important here: don't tell XRay Girl anything that I don't want the entire world to know. We can still be friends but I need to keep my secrets to myself. This seems more adult and grown up than never speaking to her again and bitch slapping her for being a blabber mouth.

It's funny really, that no one knows all my secrets. If you get all the people I know together in one room after I die and they start comparing stories, then all the pieces will fall together, but no one person knows it ALL! And it's also funny, I realize, that I don't make friends very easily and I don't usually tell secrets to people, yet here on my blog I'll write whatever-- maybe because here started as a bunch of strangers so it didn't matter? This was a good place for me to kick down some walls and let down my hair? And because here I think, most of the time, like a writer and sometimes my 'Maggie' persona spins a good story?

I've always had a rough time making friends and have done better as an adult than I ever have as a teenager or a young kid. My problem has always been about trusting someone and it seems like when I do let my guard down, I get burned by someone, accidentally or on purpose. I think maybe the wall should come back up? Dunno.... Just thinking out loud here....

All in all, it's just another brick in the wall,
Maggie

I wish it wasn't that easy for me

It’s hard to become good at leaving, but I think I am. I’ve done enough of it in my life. And leaving seems to come easy to me. This isn’t to say that I don’t have connections, but leaving and wanderlust and discontent seem to go hand in hand with leaving.

I taught college, my first teaching job and when I left, it was so sad. The students and faculty gave me a farewell party and said their good-byes. I still miss those kids, those people and that particular job. I felt like I belonged. I miss the camaraderie with my colleagues.

I also left my family and moved to the Wild West. I knew I would be back to see them, but initial good-bye was hard. I left everyone and everything and no matter who you are, me included, or what dream I was following, I couldn’t help but have second thoughts and twinges of guilt.

Leaving doesn’t just mean leaving a place or a job. Leaving is just a parting, a saying good-bye to a person you may or may not ever see again. When my mother died I said good-bye forever. When I left the Wild West, I left kids, my students, who I knew I would never see most of again. When I said good-bye to AlaskaSam in DC many years ago, awash in tears and standing at the airport terminal, watching his limo pull away, I never knew that would be the last time I would see him, so far.

More recently I said good-bye to an old friend, a lover, a possible future… It was in a parking lot, and we kissed and chatted. I was calm on the outside and frantic on the inside that this connection might not last, no matter how much I wanted it. For the first time in a very long time that I can even remember, I didn't want to leave, didn't want to say good-bye, didn't want to break a connection.

But we both got into our automobiles and I drove away first, holding my breath, forcing myself to not look back, willing my fingers to not call Trooper on the cell phone. I drove away, hating that I was so good at leaving.

Maggie

Mac's view on relationships

I really can't believe he said any of it...

Mac said, "Look, when I meet a girl I can stand, then she can be my girlfriend. That's how you pick someone. Find a person you can tolerate, stick with 'em and hope you can tolerate them for a long time. And since there isn't anyone in high school I can stand for longer than 10 seconds... well, hence why I'm single."

I stupidly asked if looks mattered and Mac then said, "If she's super hot but dumb, I'd learn to tolerate her. But since women in real life aren't super hot, it doesn't matter. Even if she's 'ugo' [teen speak for ugly] but tolerable, that's fine. Most girls, well most people are just stupid, therefore intolerable."

Voodoo isn't always a bad thing, right?

The above is my voodoo doll. Okay, I bought it for my folks when I was in The Big Easy about 10 years ago and after my post last week, Daddy-O dug it out.

But here's the news that's fit to print. Think I should or should NOT use the Ol' Black Magic?

• Sperm Donor had emergency surgery and came out fine. He was in the hospital for 5 days and was in a lot of pain but is home now.
• Grandma Shrew is in the hospital as well with some sort of flu. She was there for a whole day and never called anyone because she couldn't remember any numbers, even though I live at the same number my mother (her daughter) had for 40 years. I'm just too terrible of a human being to call apparently. (Actually it's a good thing she didn't call. I don't want that sort of responsibility to her.) She would rather sit in the hospital without her family knowing than call me. COOL!
  
• Trooper has not told me to go away, though his gun shy-ness is shining through, but he's sweet about it. he's such a... trooper. *giggle* (Oh come on! That was a great pun!)
  
• ItalianSam sent me an email about a job that he has connections to so I might actually get an interview, at least. It's in Wisconsin somewhere... And it was a nice olive branch from him.
  
• The insurance office might have a full time opening and I might be considered- if I want to become an insurance sales person... That would involve commission and more schooling.
• The ice cream owner has to have some medical stuff done and wants me to run the day to day operations while this happens.
• I can't find a bottle of Johnny Walker Blue that I bought for AIISam last March at duty free. I've had it here in my room since the break up and was going to give it to Farrago as a birthday gift and now it's missing. And no I didn't drink it.
• I can't find my tv remote, either.
• When I told the bank about all the hoops I have to jump through for that stupid fucking Verizon Wireless to give me the overdraft fees back, they just credited my checking account and told me to not worry about it.
• I almost have free Indianapolis Colts tickets and am taking Trooper there on a date, if they come through. Now, am I the coolest could be girlfriend in history? (I think he might consider drastic measures if I scored Packers tickets... HAHA!)
  

So, it's a mish- mash of all sorts of blessings and curses.

Witchy woman,
Maggie