Okay, so while I've been a little MIA lately, I promise I'm still among the living.
And I'm actually getting some great material to blog about.
Saturday night, I was in a limo with twelve other crazy ladies on a bachelorette party, where lots of funny shenanigans took place, which I will post about soon, I promise!
I also need to tell everyone about watching New Moon with the husband. You would've thought I was pulling his toe nails out with pliers. Seriously.
And today, I'm heading to Cocoa Beach, where my spring break commences. I'm currently sitting here posting this, fully prepared for the beach while two of my princes(esses) are taking their sweet time on packing a bag.
I hate waiting on people.
I'm sure I'm going to be a total biotch once we finally get on our way, because they are not making sure I'm happy. It's not going to be premeditated bitchiness (no matter the fact that I'm already predicting this).
It's going to come out at the most unexpected times, much like turret's syndrome. I'm going to bust out with something like, "Do you need me to get your balls out of my purse?! What the hell are you waiting for?!", when my husband wants to wait FOREVER and a day to pull out onto the highway. He does this type of thing frequently. And there is no happy medium. He will either pull out in front of someone and make me nearly crap my pants out of sheer terror or he will wait until I sprout a grey hair to make up his mind to go. Drives me effing crazy.
Oh, oh...I think they might be getting close. Let me go kick them in their asses and get this show on the road.
Peace out, girl scouts.
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Okay, so I totally found something that is going to make my days much more pleasant..
I've found the secret to peeing quietly. Yes. It's true. I'll tell you how. (and why.)
So, the staff bathroom (the only one that I'm not afraid something is going to jump onto my nether regions if I use) is in a hallway with offices all around. One day, I was walking down this hallway (to the bathroom no less) and heard the sound of a gigantic horse taking a leak. I was kind of embarrassed for the person on the other side of the door, (and concerned because I thought the bathroom was for women only and it surely had to be a man draining his boy bit)when the door opens and out steps this little petite woman.
First off, I was amazed that such a little thing could make such a racket (is that with a 'w'?) and then I was relieved that the one bathroom I was comfortable using wasn't a unisex potty.
(No offense meant, gentlemen...okay, so that's a lie. You may be offended, because I frankly don't give a shit...You guys are disgusting. For real.)
So, it had me slightly freaked out that every time I go to this potty, the sound of me peeing is echoing into the hallway like Niagara Falls.
Anyway, I've since experimented with the angle of my urine. (I really would never have thought that 'angle of my urine' would be something that I would ever say, much less write for anyone that suffers severe boredom and has access to the Internet to read, but there you go...'angle of my urine'.)
I've since found that if you pee on the porcelain, not directly into the water, there is virtually no sound.
*Sigh of relief...
I can now piss unselfconsciously.
Thursday, March 11, 2010
I love some of the assignments some of these teachers come up with. They keep me highly entertained...
For instance, today, I had a group of students that were in trouble that were given a very interesting writing assignment. They were to write an ENTIRE PAGE (oh, no!) on a day in the life from their shoes, their agendas, a poster from their favorite class, the oak tree in front of the school and one of their teacher's, perspective.
A few of them totally blew it, even with me giving them ideas, and hello, in case you haven't noticed, I'm totally the bestest writer in the whole wide world. Right? Right?
Anywayz, one of the boys actually took my suggestions and had me laughing my ass off.
He wrote one from his shoe's perspective, such as how badly he hated having dog crap on himself and how much he enjoyed the fact that his owner talked to him, and even occasionally would sing to him....and how all the other shoes were jealous that they didn't have such wonderful owner's that bathed them regularly and how he was always a-shinin', yo....
Anyway, it was really funny and I hope he sticks with writing, because his imagination might just outshine mine. Maybe...but probably not. :-)
There was this other assignment that I ran across, one that a child had not completed from last month. It was a Valentine's Day resume.
In resume format, you were supposed to list all the attributes you had that would make a prospective valentine desire you.
Am I the only perve in the room?
I totally would've mentioned my boob size, ass shape, shapely legs and the way I fill out a skirt. But I don't think any of the kids did that. Which made me wonder about this generation.
Because if this were MY assignment, I would've headed straight to the gutter with it.
The kids today have no imagination.
So, excluding the kid with the shinin' shoes, I think it's safe to say that all of the good writing jobs are safe for all of us current writer's out here. Especially those of us that enjoy bringing a smile to a reader's face.
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Do you ever wonder why things happen at the worst possible time?
Four days before I started my new job, my youngest broke his wrist, and it couldn't be a typical run of the mill break....no....It had to warrant surgery, so I missed a day of work for that.
This week we are having testing, very important testing, and while I normally don't mind missing work (I actually relish playing hooky from time to time), I refuse to miss this soon into a job. So, here I am, sick again and having to drag my snotty, congested, eyes watering, scabbed up nose ass to work. It sucks.
But on the plus side, I witnessed a very funny thing happen.
Kids today are asses. They possess no work ethic, nor any moral values worth mentioning. (With a few exceptions to the rule...I don't want to forget my own precious angel, of course.)
One of our deans called some girl down to the office. When she walked in, she had no idea what she was there for. The dean asked the girl for her boyfriend's name, so she gave it. The dean then proceeds to call the boyfriend up. I was almost afraid to ask, but of course, I'm a nosy bitch so I wanted to know if they were caught scrumping in the potty.
Unfortunately, the girl was just spotted making out that morning and the dean wanted to chew the P.D.A loving couple a new one.
This is where it gets interesting.
Turns out the boy that the girl was making out with that morning WASN'T her boyfriend and she totally got busted. The dean was rather embarrassed and vowed that she would be more specific in the future. Instead of asking, "What's your boyfriend's name?" it would go more like this, "Whose tongue did you have in your mouth this morning?"
Serves the little hooch right...He dumped her right there in the office, too.
I'm ready for some hot weather. I need the sun. Seriously. I need the water to warm up, so that I can cool off after the U.V rays eats my skin off. I need to run around in flip flops and tank tops and cut off shorts. I need to have tan lines. I need my hair bleached out naturally so that I don't have to spend a fortune getting it artifically colored. I need to be on the water. I also need an excuse for a pedicure as my feet are beginning to scare me...even worse than normal.
And I need an excuse to wear my new red bathing suit, as I tried it on the other day and I'm totally rocking it. (Not that I'm bragging or anything....okay, so I totally am, but in my defense I've busted my ass over the last year for my body, so I've earned the right.)
I also need my hair to grow another half inch so that I can wear it in a pony tail because I had to chop all the dead crap off the last time I had my hair did, due to flat ironing the shit out of it. I recommend a blow dryer and a paddle brush if you want straight hair. The flat iron is a murderer. Seriously.
This is just a few things I need. I'm sure I could go on...and on...and on...and on...but I won't bore you with the details.
Peace out, peeps.
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
When I was young(er), I worked as a waitress at this little barbecue joint that smokes the ribs in the middle of the restaurant, no air conditioner and concrete floors. The working conditions were atrocious, but the people were some of the best I've ever met.
With a few exceptions, but that's a story for another day.
Throughout the course of my time employed there, there were many pranks that were pulled.
One of which was where I poured mineral oil all in one girls sweet tea (I didn't like her a whole lot and didn't care if she sat on the shitter for the majority of her shift).
Another one, I put a rubber snake in a guys truck that habitually left his window down even though he parked under a group of oak trees. The guy got a shovel (after he finished screaming like a little girl) and proceeded to beat the shit out of his seat four or five times before he realized it was fake.
Another time I closed someone up in the freezer (only for a few minutes, though) and was highly amused at the level of hysteria a middle aged lady (I use the term loosely) can get in just a few minutes.
I guess you could say that I'm something of a pain in the ass, maybe even a little mean at times. And it really was all in good fun (for the most part).
So, I know that I have something coming for me, as I don't include the time that my shirt was frozen into a solid block of ice when I had to change due to barbecue sauce down my front.
There's really no point to this post, other than the fact that I've been reminiscing about some of my old jobs, the good, the bad and the sheer awfulness of some of them.
I do want to point out that I was also stabbed in the leg while working at the above restaurant, so I figure that probably balanced the scales a little bit. It was apparently on accident, but as I didn't get along with the girl wielding the knife, I do have my doubts. I was about to beat the shit out of her until I looked down and saw blood pouring down my leg. Have you ever been stabbed? Not cut, but stabbed? That shit hurts like hell. For real.
At my job as a lifeguard as a teenager, I took a nose dive off my lifeguard stand. How reassuring is that? The lifeguard doesn't even know how to climb up a very large wooden ladder and she's guarding the lives of your children?
I also once worked at a hospital and would take patients for x-rays, M.R.I.'s etc. I quit when I had a psyche patient about ripmy co-worker's hair out from the root and I had to tie her to the stretcher with a sheet in order to subdue her. That one was fun.
So, my work history is long and varied and I wonder what is going to happen in my new job that I will remember years from now (excluding the kid whacking off in class).
I just hope that one student will think that I've made a difference for them. If that happens, I'll think that it was totally worth it. (plus, summer's off BABY)
I hope everyone is having a good week.
Monday, March 1, 2010
Dear Mom of dumb ass student,
I apologize for ruining your day by phoning you and letting you know that your daughter has bladder issues and is unable to make it to her class on time.
I apologize for letting you know school policy so that you may talk with your daughter about taking more timely bathroom breaks.
I also apologize for the fact that the apple didn't even take a slight roll away from the family tree and fell in a rotten, gooey heap upon the algae, moldy infested roots of said tree.
I apologize for the fact that you're a complete dumb ass, waste of space and will most likely contribute an exact replica of yourself onto the good/tolerant graces of society.
I would also like to inform you that I'm very glad that I met you in my professional work space, because that made it your safe place, as I refrained from doing what I wanted to do, which was crawl through the phone and let you know all of the above and if you took issue, settle it the old fashioned way.
The dumb ass teacher you disrespected and left with a foul taste in her mouth.
Honestly....I'm amazed at the sheer stupidity of some so-called adults. This woman was actually pissed that her daughter's teacher took exception to the fact that she interrupted class by entering late, due to the fact that she had to pee.
This is especially galling, as not a teacher at our school would refuse the request to go to the bathroom. If the little twit would've at least went to class, explained that she was in dire need of the potty, she would've gotten a pass and then my work would not have been interrupted and I wouldn't now think that said girl is doomed to a life of crime, promiscuity and complete ignorance of the way the world works.
I actually had to send this girl to the principal, rather than have her stay in my class for the length of the on going lesson. The principal then had to deal with her dumb ass of a mother, and then turn the girl around to, HELLO????... spend the rest of the class period with me.
What a dumb ass. Seriously.